#recognizable guest star

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode 12: Faith

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Faith

So I've been waiting for this episode. It's literally my favorite of the entire season. We don't get much in the way of backstory but it is a tour de force for Jensen Ackles. (More on that below the cut.)

When Dean is electrocuted during a hunt and told he only has weeks to live, Sam finds a faith healer to help who might not be as benevolent as he seems.

Okay so before I start, I want to talk about Jensen for a minute. This blog's main focus is Dean not Jensen (which is why the caption on the main photo I post always says it's DEAN in the show not Jensen...I don't want to muck up the Jensen tags with this stuff and I think the fact that I focus on Dean is proof enough I'm a Jensen fan. No need to belabor the point). But it would be remiss of me not to note that the main reason Dean is such a great character is because of Jensen Ackles' performance. Period. He took a character they seemingly wanted as comic relief and turned him into (IMO) the main character, with a deep, rich, history and emotional baggage that kept us compelled for 15 seasons.

And as good as Jensen has been up to this point in the show, he fucking kills it in this one. We get dying Dean, recovered Dean, guilt-ridden Dean, angry Dean, sad Dean, and soft Dean. He covers it all and does it effortlessly. I will continually mention here that it's a crime against God that this man never even got an Emmy nomination for his portrayal of Dean Winchester, let alone the actual Emmy...and this episode is one of those instances where I want to know what the fuck is wrong with the Academy?

Back to the show.

So while battling a Rawhead (a fucking what?) Dean, using an amped up taser (he tells Sam it's 100k volts) electrocutes both himself and the monster, killing the monster and wounding his heart so badly the doctors tell him he's going to die within the month.

Sam can't have this so Sam goes a little wild trying to find something to help Dean, including calling John. Except Sam doesn't ask John for help (unlike when Dean called John)...Sam basically says "Dean's gonna die, I'll figure it out."

I hate John so much. Have I mentioned this?

One little interesting note (I found it interesting anyway) - Sam gives the hospital a medical card for a Mr. Berkovitz. Did he tell the hospital that was Dean's name? I need to know these things.

We get a rare glimpse of one of the Winchesters (Sam) talking to the cops about the case they just solved. (Basically just, 'we heard the kids screaming and ran in.')

Saving little kids and Dean getting hurt in the process sent me to the series finale and for a moment during season 1 I was mad at Sam again for not trying to get Dean help....let it go...let it go...(never!)

Shout out here for what a good job the makeup department did making Dean look like he was dying.

Good lord, my little heart.

After Dean tries to cheer up Sam with jokes (Dean thinking about someone other than himself, even while he's dying) he gives him the hard truth:

"I'm gonna die, and you can't stop it."

Sam, realizing he's the one in charge now, replies with a defiant, "Watch me."

And here is where it starts. The whole "My brother can never die" stuff that will make Sam and Dean fight for the next fifteen years.

When Sam calls John to fill him in about his oldest, he literally says, "Just wanted you to know."

He can be a passive aggressive ass, huh? (Not that John doesn't deserve it.)

Sam is surprised by Dean at the motel. He's liberated himself from the hospital because:

"I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."

Because even in the episode where Dean's humanity is on full display, the writers want to remind us that he's kind of a dick. (he isn't, but the writers want us to think he is for some goddamn reason.)

So Sam tells Dean they're going to see a specialist and Dean thinks that means a doctor and is PISSED when he discovers it's a faith healer. He goes all grumpy into the tent, meeting Layla, someone else who needs healing and has been to the tent a few times but never chosen. He softens around her and even flirts with her before heading in. (We also find out Layla is NOT long for this world. She has weeks if even that apparently.)

Dean has a great line in regard to good and evil: "I've seen what evil does to good people." (this is pretty much the theme of the episode.)

Against his wishes AGAIN, Sam makes Dean sit closer to the front (Dean had chosen seats near the back) and when he makes a crack about the pastor wanting people's money, the pastor hears him and ends up calling him up on stage.

Dean tries to get him to choose someone else and when that fails very reluctantly takes the stage.

Throughout this episode Dean makes it very clear he doesn't think he's worthy of saving. SEASON ONE we get this from him and Cas clocks him on it all the way in season four.

So the pastor lays hands, brings Dean to his knees, and Dean passes out momentarily....healed when he regains consciousness.

The next day Dean visits the pastor and his wife because they found out aguy Dean's age died from a heart attack the same day Dean was healed. While Dean is there to get info, he very earnestly asks the pastor flat out:

"Why me? Why save me?"

And my little heart breaks a bit.

The pastor's response: "I looked into your heart and you stood out from the rest."

So Dean needs to know: "Whad did you see in my heart?"

Get ready for the entire reason for this damn show:

"A young man with an important purpose. A job to do and it isn't finished."

This isn't good enough for Dean, though. He's just not buying it.

Meanwhile, Sam finds out that the guy who died was perfectly healthy and died at the same moment Dean was healed. When Dean returns to the motel and Sam has to tell him this news, it does not go well.

Dean: You never should've brought me here.

Sam: Dean, I was just trying to save your life.

Dean: But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.

Sam: I didn't know.

Couple of things here: I think it's 100% possible that Sam had no idea that Dean would react badly to someone dying in his place. Because at this point, Sam still really doesn't know a fuck ton about his brother. But I also don't think it would have mattered either way. Because I don't think Sam was thinking JUST of saving Dean, he was thinking he didn't want to be alone. Dean brought him on this journey and he wasn't going to let Dean off so easy.

Oh I skipped a part...when Dean is leaving the pastor's house, Layla and her (rightfully) cranky mother are trying to see him and the pastor's wife Lee Ann won't let them. The mother goes off on Dean, not understanding why after he got his miracle he's still taking up the pastor's time and she barks at him:

"Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

And she's right. In a way. And Dean agrees with her...except he can't tell her that, so he just stands there silently while inside he's agonizing over what has transpired.

So anyway, Dean, of course, figures out that he saw a reaper when he was healed and that Roy, the pastor, is somehow controlling it. Can't kill a reaper, so Dean wants to kill Roy. Easy Peasy. But Sam won't let him. They have to do it the hard way and find the things that are binding the reaper to Roy and voila they're done.

So blah blah blah,stuff happens. Sam figures out how the victims are being picked, while Dean gets that job of stopping the next healing.

And guess who the next person was to get healed? Layla. So Dean first tries to convince her not to let him heal her and then Dean yells fire and interrupts the healing. Dean is no one's favorite except mine right now.

If there's a season 16 of Supernatural, I'd love one episode where Dean if not deals with at least acknowledges how traumatic his life has been. It's incredibly cruel that not only was he healed before Layla but that HE gets tasked with having to prevent her getting healed.

When her healing gets stopped Layla asks Dean why...but he doesn't tell her. Because right now we're in "we don't tell civilians about the monsters" mode...which doesn't last long. But at least if he told Layla she would have had a better understanding. She was a nice person, it would have helped, I think.

Layla walks away from Dean but not before sincerely saying, "I wish you luck. I really do."

KNIFE IN DEAN'S HEART

He responds with, "Same to you." And then under his breath he says, "You deserve it a lot more than me."

KNIFE IN MY HEART

So Dean and Sam figure out that it's the wife, Sue Ann, not the pastor who has bound the reaper and they have to go back that night to the pastor's house because he's going to do a private healing for Layla.

Sam thinks Sue Ann is evil but Dean sees things more rationally and tells Sam she was desperate to save her husband and did something bad. But now she's using the reaper to punish people she thinks deserve it and notes:

"God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work."

Dean really does get all the best lines.

I won't lie. Every time I watch this episode I think that they could let Layla get healed and let one more random person die. I mean Layla dying is just as random. She got a brain tumor...that was random.

And then I realize that's a little bonkers but still...

Dean notes that if Layla doesn't get healed at this session she's going to die soon and Sam tells him they can't play God.

But they kind of play God with every hunt, don't they? (that's me asking, not Dean.)

So Sue Ann's plan is to kill Dean while Layla gets saved. Poetic, huh?

But that doesn't happen. The reaper tries to get Dean but Sam stops Sue Ann before he can kill Dean (but destroying the thing that binds the reaper) and then, guess what? Reaper kills Sue Ann just as Roy is trying to heal Layla and...nothing. His power is gone.

The episode ends in literally one of the more depressing ways we've seen. Sam contacts Layla and tells her Dean wanted to say goodbye...so she shows up at the motel and Sam fucks off to leave them alone.

Layla tells Dean Roy couldn't heal her and Dean notes it must be hard to be disappointed with something you had so much faith in and we get this nugget of wisdom from the dying woman:

"If you're gonna have faith you can't just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don't."

She's a bit of a Mary Sue but, still, she's not wrong.

Then the gut punch. As Layla is about to leave, Dean says something we won't hear him say again:

"I'm gonna pray for you." (And we know he means it.)

Layla considers THAT a miracle and I finished watching the episode sobbing.

And Dean probably did too.

(I'm gonna go cry again.)

Some notes for posterity:

Significant music in this episode: Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult used in the absolute best way while showing a reaper chasing down and innocent victim. Chills. I got chills.

Everyone in town knows their first names are Dean and Sam but when Dean is in the hospital Sam gives the nurse a medical card with the name Mr. Berkovitz on it.

Sam drives the Impala when they go to the faith healer's tent for the first time because Dean is too sick to drive.

This is the first time we see a reaper.

This hunt takes place in Nebraska

Recognizable Guest Stars: Julie Benz as Layla

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?

Nancy: I never really liked crowds.

Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.

Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.

Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.

Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.

Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.

Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.

Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!

Nancy: Hello Mother.

Queenie: Nancy.

Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?

Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.

Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.

Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?

Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?

Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.

Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.

Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!

Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.

Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.

Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.

Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.

Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-

Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.

Nancy: Nathan was your student?

Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.

Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.

Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?

Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!

Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?

Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.

Nancy: What about your husband?

Professor Munch: Husband?

Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.

Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?

Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.

Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.

Nancy: [sobs quietly]

Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?

Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?

Nancy: [nods once]

Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.

Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]

Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.

Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.

Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.

Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!

[delimeful]

you can't go back (10)

warnings: depression mention, death mention, animal violence mention, angst, lmk if i missed any

-

Roman had been poking and prodding the alien in his barn for answers for the better part of a month, to no avail. 

No matter what combination of words, actions, or prop-laden charades he and Logan had attempted, they’d come no closer to anything resembling communication than they had when Roman had been angrily threatening the alien with a broom. He’d been growing more hopeless— and admittedly, more guilty— by the day. 

And then, entirely unintentionally, along came Patton. 

Less than an hour after their accidental introduction, Patton had somehow managed to not only convince the alien to speak to him, but also earn their apparent undying loyalty. 

Roman kind of got it, because, well, it was Patton, but he was still feeling incredibly miffed about how the entire situation had played out. He couldn’t even say as much, because then Patton would start making pointed statements about not hiding things from one’s friends and how nice it would have been for him to have met their excitable extraterrestrial earlier. 

Going by the way the alien kept hovering over Patton like a brooding hen, Roman figured their captive-turned-guest(?) probably felt the same way. Not that he could really blame them.

Despite Patton’s gentle prompting and Logan’s intense staring, the alien refused to utter so much as a recognizable syllable in front of them, sticking firmly to bobbing a clawed hand up-and-down or side-to-side for ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers, respectively. 

That alone was enough to confirm that Patton was right: the alien absolutely could understand human speech, though not as comprehensively as Star Wars would have had him believe. Even with this new willingness to interact, around half of their questions were still answered with a hesitant motion of bumping the sides of their forearms together and then drawing them back apart, which seemed to be the alien’s version of a shrug. 

This wasn’t the only new gesture they were introduced to over the course of the next few days. From subtle shifts of their faceplates to the absent air-pedaling their stabby limbs did while they were thinking, they were now witness to a whole gallery of unfamiliar mannerisms. The thick spiral-ring notebook Logan had dedicated to documenting the alien’s body language had rapidly begun to run out of blank pages, with the frantic scribbling becoming such a well-worn background noise that even the alien stopped being wary after a while. 

As it turned out, the alien was a lot more expressive when all six of their limbs weren’t forcibly restrained. This was one of those things that seemed a lot more obvious in hindsight. 

Given that four of those limbs had both the sharpness of a spear and the spring-loaded power of a harpoon gun, Roman still felt a fair amount of uncertainty about just how much trust they were placing in a relative stranger, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

After all, this was a welcome change from the quiet, still way the alien had been curled up on their makeshift bed for the past week, not nearly as aggressive as before but also not nearly as alert or even responsive, some days. Roman had been getting more and more worried, half-expecting to find a corpse every time he went to check on them, like a bug left in a jar to suffocate. 

Whatever magic Patton had worked, it had brought an undeniable spark of life back to the alien, and wary or not, Roman was unspeakably relieved about it. 

The past couple of days had been dedicated to finding supplies for the alien’s project, which they had figured out (mostly through extensive guessing) was a makeshift translator. One of Logan’s old laptops, the disemboweled guts of the alien’s helmet, and an old car battery from the junkyard had been sacrificed to the alien’s tinkering, along with various bits and bobs pulled from old charging cables and a broken VCR player. 

After the third unsuccessful game of charades, Roman had just grabbed the whole junk drawer in the kitchen and tipped all the contents out in the hopes that the alien would find what they needed. 

Seeing as there hadn’t been any more requests, they seemed to have found the pieces they needed— or at the very least, acceptable substitutes. From there, all that was left to do was loiter in the barn and wait for them to finish. 

“Guys,” Patton called, the only one allowed to sit nearby while the alien worked. “I think it’s ready!” 

The moment the words split the air, Logan practically teleported over to their corner of the barn, and Roman was only a step behind, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm in his chest at the thought of finally learning what had happened to his brother. 

The alien was crouched with their backwards-jointed legs folded under them, and as they all gathered around, the limbs on their back pulled in to avoid grazing any shoulders, as though even the barest touch would be poisonous. As always, they didn’t make direct eye contact with anyone, simply reaching out to the contraption and pressing one of the buttons on the VCR. 

They made a series of carefully enunciated clicks and churrs, the same muffled language that they had used during Roman’s pointless interrogations, and then released the button and pressed down another one. 

There was a brief moment of silence, and then: 

“Can you understand this sentence?” 

The voice was robotic, the inflections slightly strange, but the words were clear. 

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed, half an answer and half a cheer of success. “It worked, we understood that!” 

The three of them exchanged glances, sharing a sort of awed joy at the impossibility of it all. The alien waited for a moment longer before recording another stretch of clicks and sending it through the translator. 

“The energy cell won’t last long. Ask important questions first.” 

Like mirror images, both of his friends turned to look at him at the same time, and whatever expression he was making seemed to tell them everything they needed to know. 

“No matter what the answer is,” Patton told him, reaching out to hold onto his hand tightly, “we’ll figure it out together, okay?” 

Logan flipped his notebook over, abandoning the list of questions to set the tip of his pen to a blank page. “I’ll record the information verbatim. It’ll ensure we don’t miss anything.” 

Embarrassingly enough, Roman’s eyes began to sting. He cleared his throat, smiling weakly at his best friends. “Thanks, guys.” 

The question sat heavy on the back of his tongue, the shape of words practically memorized after the many times he’d spoken, shouted, screamed them. When he looked forward to the alien, though, he realized that there was something else he owed it to them to ask. 

“What’s your name?” 

The alien went rabbit-still for a moment, a reflexive attempt to hide that Roman was pretty sure meant they were surprised. He didn’t rush them; he was pretty surprised at himself, too. 

Finally, they leaned close to the speaker again. “I am known as Anxiety.” 

“Anxiety?�� Patton echoed, his eyebrows lifting in bewilderment. 

The alien shuffled their hands over each other in an uncertain-looking gesture before speaking into the translator, a little quicker now. “Was that the wrong word? The direct translation is more like ‘he who fears needlessly’?” 

“Anxiety… is a good word for that, yes,” Logan answered after another uncertain pause. “It simply isn’t a word we would usually use as a name.” 

“Alien,” Anxiety replied succinctly, with another one of those forearm shrugs. 

Roman nodded, fitting the name carefully into the list of things they’d learned about this stranded stranger. “My name is Roman, and this is Logan and Patton.” 

Each of them waved on cue, one perfunctory and the other over-enthusiastic. Anxiety glanced between them for a moment before apparently giving in to his curiosity. 

“Who is first?” he asked through the translator, earning three confused looks. 

“I’m the oldest?” Roman offered, not in the least confident that this was the answer Anxiety was looking for. “But not by that much? We’re all in the same grade, um, which basically means we’re only a few months apart in age.” 

Anxiety didn’t lose the air of puzzlement, but he shook his hand in the ‘no’ gesture. “Nevermind. Ask your questions.” 

Roman swallowed, his nerves returning to him twofold, and forced the words past numb lips. “What… What happened to my brother?” 

Although Anxiety had almost certainly expected the question, his limbs still flexed behind him, trembling slightly with tension. Foreboding sunk into Roman like a stone through water. 

“Your brother was abducted,” Anxiety finally answered, the translator turning the words flat and stilted. “Stolen, but most likely alive.” 

Alive. Alive. Most likely alive. Roman’s chest felt like it might burst with how hard his heart was beating.

“Why? What are they going to do to him?” he asked, his voice rising louder in his desperation. Patton squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

Anxiety’s hesitance stretched even longer. This time, after speaking into the translator, he shuffled backwards slightly. Preparing for a violent response to whatever he’d just said. 

“Deathworlders are valuable in some circles. That crew is money-hungry. They probably took him to use as a champion in illegal fighting rings. Dangerous, but not lethal if he can fight,” the translator spit out dutifully. 

Fighting rings. Roman thought about every movie scene he’d ever watched with gladiators, every news article about local dog fighting, every old story about men shoved into a pit of starving lions. Pictured Remus, dropped into some horrible real-life version of that scene from Star Wars, but without magic powers or even so much as a lightsaber to his name. 

He felt sick. His hand went limp in Patton’s grip, nausea churning in his gut. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. What could he possibly say to that? How was he supposed to ask about his own brother’s odds, his life expectancy on an alien battleground?

“What do you mean by ‘Deathworlder’?” Logan asked, his gaze sharp as he picked up the slack. 

Anxiety’s attention was clearly riveted on Roman’s response, but he managed to answer after several seconds passed without anyone lashing out, leaning forward again. 

“It’s a title. Sapient species that originate from deathworlds.” When this clearly wasn’t as helpful as he thought it would be, he elaborated further: “Planets with harsh terrain, hostile fauna, lethal weather patterns. A Deathworlder has adapted to thrive in these conditions. You make a home out of a place that is difficult for most aliens to even survive.” 

Patton frowned, confused. “You’re surviving just fine, aren’t you?” 

Anxiety’s faceplate twitched slightly, an expression they had no reference for. 

“I thought Patch would kill me for our entire first interaction.” For the first time, a sense of his voice was audible even through the machine-tone translator. “I pay attention to danger. This planet is full of things that could very easily kill me.” 

His extra limbs twitched slightly, as though he’d said more than he’d meant to, and he firmly averted his gaze to the ground. 

Abruptly, Roman realized that they were one of the things Anxiety was referring to. The primal panic that they’d witnessed while interacting with him wasn’t a farce or an exaggeration. To Anxiety, humans were a potentially lethal threat.

“Patch?” Patton asked.

The angles of Anxiety’s back limbs shifted to point at where Lady Macbeth was sprawled out in a beam of sunlight, content that all was well within her kingdom. 

“You renamed my cat?” Roman asked incredulously, and then, more pressingly, “If you thought she was going to kill you, why did you befriend her? You tried to stab me the moment we made eye contact!” 

Anxiety’s arms twitched in what seemed like a hastily-aborted shrug. “Predatory beasts normally kill to eat or to defend territory. Sapient species are capable of a lot worse. If I am going to die, I want it to be quick.” 

Something about the way the words were spoken, present tense and oddly direct, made Roman’s skin prickle unpleasantly. It was uncomfortably close to a request. 

(Sure, Anxiety understood their language, but had they ever said aloud that they wouldn’t kill him?)

“To aliens, humans are dangerous?” Logan asked, dragging them back on-topic. “How so? From my perspective, you have more natural weapons than we do.” 

Anxiety made a dragging chirp that seemed to serve as a wordless scoff. “Humans are impossible to kill. I bite you, and you hit me. My bite bothers you, but your hit shatters my exoskeleton. I bleed out and I die. Your body heals and you live.” 

Patton looked discomfited at the very idea.

“Aliens are delicate, compared to us,” Logan surmised. “Because the environments they evolved in weren’t as hostile as Earth.” 

Anxiety nodded a fist in confirmation. 

By the time Logan turned to him with a grim look, Roman had already put the same pieces together. 

“They wanted Remus because they were sure he would win,” he said, fists clenched at his sides. “Because he’s a Deathworlder, so he’s hard to kill.” 

Remus wasn’t being tossed to the lions. He was the lion, trapped and caged far from home. A monster only let loose to slaughter. 

Sure, maybe his brother wouldn’t die, but what kind of a life was that? Remus was sixteen. He was supposed to be trespassing in abandoned buildings with his shithead friends and creating bizarrely gory trash sculptures for his art portfolio, not fighting for his life in front of a crowd of alien scumbags. 

“How do we get him back?” he asked, lifting his jaw stubbornly.

Anxiety only watched him, making no move to speak into the translator. 

“Come on, there has to be a way,” he urged, shoving to his feet and staring down at the alien. “He can’t just be gone. I have to help him! You have to do something!” 

Patton stood too, frowning in a way that suggested he thought Roman needed to back off, take a few deep breaths. 

“Please!” Roman added instead, his voice cracking down the middle of the plea. “Please.” 

Anxiety shifted to press the record button again, but the laptop screen flickered and faded, nonresponsive. Their battery power had run out. 

With a displeased sound, Anxiety slowly rose back to his full height, immediately moving several steps away, and for a moment, Roman thought that was it, his begging had been rejected. It was hopeless, and there was nothing else to be said. 

Then, there was a strange crackling sound from Anxiety, who had turned to face away from them in an uncharacteristic move, his spidery limbs shifting tensely. 

“Give t—ime,” he spoke, the words nearly made unfamiliar by the odd pronunciation. “Thhhin—k.” 

“Think?” Roman echoed with uncertainty; the ‘th’ sound dragged so long it was almost a hiss. 

“You need time to think of a way?” Logan interpreted, clearly exercising all his willpower to remain where he was instead of circling around to see Anxiety’s face. 

“T—ry,” Anxiety emphasized. “Don—t. Hope.”

“Trying is all we can do,” Patton replied warmly, while Roman was still puzzling out the soft clicks Anxiety was using for the ‘T’ sound. “Thank you for trying to help us, Anxiety.” 

There was another odd noise, like the crinkling of paper, and Anxiety’s face was as concealed as ever when he turned and hurried back over to his makeshift bed, apparently done with speaking for the day. 

Feeling more than a little exhausted himself, Roman didn’t begrudge him it. All that mattered was that Remus was alive, and they would figure out a way to rescue him. Anxiety might have warned them not to hope anything came of his efforts, but long odds had never stopped Roman from hoping before. 

He wasn’t giving up on his brother. No matter what it took to bring him home. 

[mymindhesmine]

His Favroite Star, The Sun

💌 pairing: Zayne X Reader X Sylus (Love Triangle)

💌author's note:

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this, this is my first post here on tumblr! Before starting the post please read this! This is a fanfic in an AU from the Love and Deep Space storyline. Details such as back stories, present events and others will differ from the games story. Please keep that in mind that this fic is not going to follow the plot of the game exactly. Some events will live up and others won't.

Also this js my fic and my writing, if you don’t like how the characters are written or the plot, feel free to exit.

And in this fic, it is a love triangle and reader is not MC from the game. in this fic, reader is a famous idol, as well as Sylus (Sylus is still the leader of Onychinus but in this fic the leader is faceless and unknown and goes by an alias), Zayne however is still a world renowned and highly recognizable cardiac surgeon/ doctor.

As well as this fic will have a music element where I will state the song of the chapter/section. Feel free to listen if you want to. Lyrics will be in italics.

🎼song: 'I Wanna Be Yours' by Arctic Monkeys

🍒tags: mention of previous relationship (Sylus X Reader), F! Reader

Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoy!

🎀 synopsis: It has been your dream since you were a little girl that you would be a star, an idol, to let the whole world know who you were. But if the world knows who you are, they know everything about you from your work, to what you do personally and your relationships including past and present. The past of being with another famous solo artist Sylus, who is now your ex with the public knowing of the messy relationship and breakup from it. The present of being with a world-renowned cardiac surgeon Zayne. The limelight seems to shine too bright sometimes, and along with it following you, so does your past. Will it catch up to the present?

"Y/N! Please face this way! Smile!"

"Y/N! Do you have a moment for a quick interview?"

"Y/N, say hello to all your fans watching at home!”

Between all the yelling and bright lights flashing in your face, all you could do was smile.

Smile and pose, hands placed on your hips, turning slightly when you deaned it appropriate. Standing for a bit before walking down the carpet further and repeating the steps.

Smile, turn, walk, repeat.

That was until a large camera was pushed in front of you, a woman wearing a long floor length champagne colored gown with a slicked back bun approached with a microphone in her hand and a wide smile on her lips.

"Y/N! It is so lovely to see you tonight at the Golden Star Music Awards! How are you this evening?" The woman said, pointing the large microphone towards you.

"Hi! Good evening! I'm doing amazing, I’m so excited." You greeted to the woman, smiling brightly.

"You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, so beautiful as always." She complimented.

"Thank you, you look so beautiful as well." You complimented.

"What a sweetheart you are! I heard you were nominated for an award at tonight's show, do you think the odds are in your favor?"

"I have no idea, if I did win that would be so amazing but even it I didn't I applaud whoever does. Everyone deserves recognition on a night like this."

"Are you excited for any of the guest performances?"

"I am! I can't wait to see what is in store. I wish them all good luck, I know everyone will do amazing!"

"How sweet! And I see you came alone tonight, are you attending with friends or a plus one?"

"Actually my-"

Before you could finish your answer you felt a hand gently place itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to a figure slowly. Making you tense up and then look up to see who it was.

"You made it, I didn't even know you were already here." You said smiling, as soon as you saw those familiar and warm green eyes you felt yourself relax.

"I wrapped things up earlier than expected, I just decided to find you instead of waiting inside." A soft voice said, as you felt the hand move from the small of your back to your waist.

"Oh my! Is this your famous doctor boyfriend I've been hearing so much about? two make such a cute couple!" The woman complimented, chuckling as you smile and nodded.

"Yes, he's-“

"Seriously, I think you two are perfect for one another. Obviously better than the last one right?" The woman said, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she chuckled and shoved the microphone closer to you.

"I-I um, I don’t-" You stutter to say, your hand gripping tightly at the skirt of your dress.

"I heard he's also attending tonight's show, do you think he'll…"

'It's one of those gossip reporters wanting to get more details in my life to sell an article or something.' You thought to yourself as you drowned out the rest of her conversation, you could feel you face growing hot and your hands becoming clammy with embarrassment.

"We should be heading inside and finding our seats soon, the show will be starting soon." You heard his voice respond rather strictly and coldly, making you look to him.

"I understand totally, I just wanted to ask since so many people have been curious.it was nice to meet you-"

"Let’s go before the show starts without us, it was nice meeting you as well." He said, taking your free hand in his own and walking off with you.

"Bye Y/N! Enjoy the show, hope to catch you after-" The woman said, but you had already drowned her out as your attention was faced to his broad back as he guided you down the carpet and to the entrance of the venue.

"Are you all right?" He questioned, his voice ringing with concern and worry as he watered your features.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." You managed to stutter out, not wanting to cause commotion with so many people around still.

"Some people just don't know how to respect others, regardless of status or attention. She shouldn't have asked such inappropriate questions." He stated, as you nodded in agreement and exhaling a long breath.

"Look at me." You heard him say softly, making you look up to meet his warm green eyes.

"If you don't want to stay longer or don't feel comfortable, we can leave. You tell me."He said softy, as you shook you head.

"I think I’m okay, thank you." You said, as he eyed you a bit.

"Even if you feel fine now, you tell me if anything changes. All right?" He said, and you nodded.

"I will. Thank you Zayne.”

You got inside the venue with no issues and were guided to your table by a staff member. Zayne had pulled out your chair, and you sat down as you thanked him. He sat down next to you as the staff around served water glasses to the both of you.

"Are you looking forward to the show?" He asked, as you sipped at your glass.

"I'm excited to see the performances, but I'm more nervous for the awards." You admitted.

"You were nominated for a few of the categories, no?" Zayne asked, as you nodded.

"Mhm, that's why I'm a bit nervous. I didn't really prepare before hand. It’s just a little nerve wrecking not knowing." You admitted, and he nodded understanding.

"But maybe I won't win, and that's okay too! I just hope if they do that they're more prepared than me." You chuckled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. As the show is about to start." A loud voice boomed through the venue and the other guests started bustling to their tables.

As the noise died down, and the lights on the stage shone brightly on the host you and Zayne made small banter.

"Welcome to this years Golden Star Music Award Show, I will your honest for the evening. Who is ready to win some awards and watch some amazing performances?!" The host announced, making the other guests cheer in response.

The show went on as typical from what you expect, guest artists performing their latest and most popular hits with dancers and over the top visuals, awards being handed out with heart filled speeches and tears, all with you and Zayne bantering and basking in each others presence without a care in the world.

"Our next performance is from an artist who we all love for his sultry sound and unforgettable voice. Appealing to the masses with his dark image so far that his latest album sold tens of thousands of copies within the first week, made it number one on the charts and is nominated for awards in multiple categories at tonight's show. Please give a warm and inviting welcome to Sylus!"

The audience cheered loudly as the spotlight shifted to the center of the stage, you could see Zayne shift from your side slightly and you turned to him and smiled before looking back to the stage.

The lights surrounding the venue darkened, as solem tempo music started playing. You recognized the song all too well, it was on the radio on repeat so much and you did like it.

You saw the figure on stage, a band behind him as the spotlight shone bright and cameras panning across and showing his face on large screens to the audience who weren’t close enough to the stage. You had to admit he did have a nice voice, you’ve heard his previous work in the past and you did like it.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You could see people slowly swaying in their seats, mouthing to the lyrics. You felt a soft brush against your hand as you looked to see Zayne interlacing his fingers with yours. It made you blush slightly at the small physical contact, and you quickly looked back to the performance.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots babe

I just wanna be yours

A spotlight that was hung over the audience shown, carefully dancing across the guests until it slowed and rested its attention on you and your seat. You flinched slightly at the brightness, making you look away and resting your sight on one of the large screens. Maybe it was the camera angle on the stage but with how it was positioned, it was like he was staring straight at you.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

You looked back at Zayne and although he was looking disinterested you could see how white his knuckles in his free hand look, balled into a fist. You carefully ran your thumb over his knuckles in your hand, seeing his tightened fist relax and his stance less tense. He looked to you and you gave him a soft reassuring smile.

You both knew what was going on.

He was playing games.

The show went on like clockwork, awards and performances continued and you waited with bated breath for the next awards announced.

"Now for the award for 'Best New Rising Star, with several amazing nominees. The winner for last years award will be announcing the winner." The host said, as the audience clapped.

"Please welcome back Sylus to the stage!" The host exclaimed, as more cheering and clapping ensued.

You could see the familiar figure nod to the host, taking the microphone they held along with the award. Once done they turned to face the audience at the stage.

"It is my honor to be able to give this award to the nominee who most certainly deserves it. "The winner of this year’s Best New Rising Star Award is…" He started, you bit your lip with anticipation.

The silence was slowly killing you, you just wanted this done and over with. You could feel your grasp in Zayne"s hand tighten and you tried to not chew your lip off.

"Y/N L/N." He said slowly, as the audience started clapping and cheering.

You face froze in shock for a moment, as you looked to Zayne who stood up from his seat and guided you to stand. You smiled and hugged him tightly, feeling tears threatening to spill as he whispered in your embrace.

“Congratulations." He said, as you let go of him reluctantly.

You wanted him to come to the stage with you but you knew it wasn’t the best option for now, instead one of the guests would help you up to the steps as you made your way up before getting on the stage alone.

As on cue, one or the guests who was often seen accompanying winners onto the stage held their arm out for you to take and you did so. Hearing cheers and whistling as you smiled and waved to the crowd, the cameras panning and following you as you made your way to the steps of the stage.

You thanked the kind guest before adjusting your dress and walking across the stage, hugging the host before they walked off to the far side of the stage.

Leaving you alone with all eyes on you, with Sylus.

"When I met Y/N, it was as if it was never meant to happen. Just a coincidental meeting that sooner became the start of a beautiful connection, as if faith knew it was destiny for us to meet. Only for years later I would be the one on this stage presenting her this award for the world to see." He started the speech, the crowd cheering and clapping as you did as well.

"From the first moment we met I knew I was in the presence the most talented person I would get the pleasure to know. When it comes to music, she has dominated the industry with hit pieces without failure. When it comes to personality she has always demonstrated kindness from the bottom of her heart. And when it comes to determination and work ethic, her work is never underestimated or undermined."

"Even with all these awards, music, recognition and status of being an artist, what counts is the person who put their heart into what they value. She succeeds it by not changing or letting herself be pressured into doing so. She has been able to accomplish so much while not letting the pressure change her into something she isn’t. Even if the times has changed along with many others things, she is still the same girl I met all those years ago."

"She is someone I respected highly, whom I hold so much pride and admiration to. Who I’m proud to say I know, proud to say I’ve looked up to and proud to say I love with my chest and won’t ever stop loving."

You felt your chest tighten, your hands become clammy as the crowd only got louder at the statement.

"I’m proud to present this award to her as she deserves it more than anyone in this world, ladies and gentlemen the winner of the Best Rising Star Award, Y/N." Sylus finished, turning to you as the crowd continued to cheer and all you could do was stand in shock.

Standing there as if caught in the act, surprise and fear etched into your face as everyone was looking at you. You could see the edge of a smirk resting on his lips from your peripheral vision, as you slowly got over the anger and nerves. Approaching him with your hands out, a tight smile on your face as you accepted the trophy from him.

His hand lingered as you grasped the award, before letting it go slowly and you approached the microphone on the stand.

"I want to thank everyone here tonight for the opportunity of receiving this award, this is such an honor to be nominated and win this so thank you again." You started, as the crowd cheered and you could see him sits, smirking from your side.

"Thank you to everyone who has even given me the chance to make this dream come true. From my team to my family, writers, producers, friends, colleagues, and the people closest to me that I love and hold dear to me thank you for all the support and love you have shown me. I hope to keep amazing everyone with all my work and hope you can see me continue to grow not only as an artist but as a person too. Thank you again, I love you all." You finished, waving as you held the award up again before quickly rushing to the stairs you came from.

You could hear footsteps follow you and already knowing who it was, holding onto the railing to make sure you didn’t fall. You looked to see Zayne at the bottom of the staircase waiting for you and you smiled in relief.

"Here, let me-"

"I’ve got it, thank you." You responded quickly, holding onto the railing and going down a few steps before reaching out to the outstretched hand before you.

Taking Zayne's hand once in reach and having him help you down to the ground level, clutching the award. Once you were stable, you looked at him and with the look that he gave you in return you could tell he wasn’t happy but more concerned than anything.

"I wanna go home."

💌 author's note:

Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, if you liked it please let me know! I hope to be posting soon!

[pangurbanthewhite]

I've mentioned this a couple of times but I think another reason the live action One Piece is working so well for me is that it's bringing in a lot of comparative unknowns.

Like, you can tell that they actually took the time to actually cast the best people for the roles. Rather than doing the usual thing of going "oh we hired the best people for the roles" after the fact to try and downplay how they actually hired the person with the most recognizable face and biggest box office numbers who'd also return their calls.

Jacob Gibson had a handful of television guest star roles and did 15 episodes of a drama series that aired on the Oprah Winfrey network.

I actually thought Emily Rudd was a bigger name going in but no, that's mostly because she was in all three Fear Street movies in 2021 and a now-deleted HBO film from 2022 on top of some scattered TV guest star roles.

Taz Skylar has mostly done short films that don't have Wikipedia pages and I think this is his first main television role ever.

Inaki Godoy is more well established with television roles going back to 2015. They have seem to have been largely been Spanish-speaking roles on Mexican and Latin American networks, however, and so in terms of reporting and coverage of the show it still seems like he's being treated as a relative unknown.

Out of all of them, Mackenyu seems to be the most established name, with film and TV appearances going back to 2015 (notably as the live action Kenshin Himura and Scar from a couple of FMA movies) but y'know, you kind of want the guy who's going to be swinging swords around to have been around the block a few times.

[stonesilhouette]

Thanks For Nothing

Yandere America x G.N. Reader

TW: General Yandereness | Implied Kidnapping | Imprisonment | America feeds you food with a fork so idk | Non-consensual kissing (just for a moment) | Thanksgiving? | Reader is tied up

If you can't tell I'm really bad at adding tw's but I always find it helpful to avoid stuff I don't want to read so I tried my best. Go ahead and tell me if there's something I missed.

Also, I know Thanksgiving was two days ago I randomly got the urge to write this last night. I'm like slightly embarrassed by this but I haven't posted anything in over a year so you get this.

Tableware clinked against wood as it was gingerly laid down by an uncommonly careful hand. The room was well lit with candles flickering shadows across the walls, a large chandelier over top. The table was set with an orange and red color scheme with autumn bleeding into every aspect of decoration. Even though only two would be used, eight seats had been set in nothing but false pageantry. The smell of baking turkey wafted in from the kitchen off the ways. Most of the other food had already made its place on the table, surrounding a cornucopia, reflective only in name. Six chairs, three on each side, were all tightly pushed into the table, ready for the use of no one. The spread was massive and one could wonder how only two people, the only residents of the large house, would finish it all.

Humming came from the kitchen, the voice masculine in pitch. The tune was easily recognizable as the Star Spangled Banner, which was more a feat to hum then one would expect. Some of the high notes came out scratchy and the mumbling of the lyrics did nothing to ascertain any kind of satisfying harmony. Both rooms were pleasantly warm, though the kitchen held itself in a higher regard after repeat use of the oven and stove. Light leaked out through the open windows as it bathed the rest of the house.

It was pitch dark outside and a person coming or going could see no more than fifteen feet in front of them. Not that there would be any extra guests anyways. The building was located in the middle of nowhere, a long, winding road the only gleam of civilization. At one point the property had been a farm, but after the changing of owners, its purpose drastically changed.

The deafening silence was interrupted by repeated shifting, a desperate attempt to move. This sound was picked up by the ears of the blonde in the other room. He stuck his head in the doorway, the cowlick on top denying gravity its rightful dues. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, though you could see none of it. In fact you could see nothing at all. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. All you could do was listen. The man laughed boisterously like you had just said the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry!” He said, knocking on the wall in a way meant to exude comfort. “It's almost done.”

Any chance you had of escape was quickly ticking away alongside that turkey clock, and yet you could do nothing. Maybe he really was the original boy scout because his knots were flawless. Arms bound tight to a chair, any attempts at kicking did nothing to loosen the ropes tying your legs to the chair’s. Your back was flush with the chair, cord tightly wrapped around your torso. You were, in all sense of the word, stuck.

The silk material used to blind your sight was far softer than the harsh twine of the ropes. The same was used to bind your mouth. Any of the tears you had cried had long since dried, making the cloth more uncomfortable and sticky than before. What did you do to deserve this?

Time to ponder than question was quickly snatched away as the retro cooking clock sprang to life. You snapped your head towards the sound, not having prepared yourself for it. Suddenly the smell of turkey became stronger than ever before and you swore you could feel its heat as the man set it down on the table. He lit what you could only assume were candles before approaching you. You visibly shook as he gently removed the blindfold.

Blinking furiously to adjust to the light, your pupils contracted at the heavy light, causing you to shut them closed and throw your head down away from the obtrusive shine. A large hand came above you to pet the top of your head. He kneeled down on one knee, grasping your arm, which was still bound to the chair’s, and gently massaged the skin. He almost didn’t seem real, the light making him look like an angel. Then he looked back up at you, sky blue eyes piercing your own (e/c) ones. Any thoughts of a divine existence were quickly washed away as you stared deep into the possessive pools that were his oculus. The man smiled at you, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fell. He licked the thumb that had made contact with the salted droplet, never breaking eye contact with you. 

He abruptly stood up, shifting his attention over to the extravagant feast on the table. He quickly piled on his own plate, seemingly stacking it sky high, before coming back over to your side and collected your piece of dishware. Moving around the table, he began to fill your own plate, though not nearly as large as his own. He placed it back down next its proper napkin, an orange maple leaf.

The man began to slice apart his pieces of turkey, clearly satisfied with how it had come out. It didn’t take him long to begin gobbling down his food like a hungry soldier on the battlefield. He talked while chewing once or twice in a way that would have made a proper British noble scoff in disgust. Though he quickly quit after he realized that he was eating like such. A look fell across his face that made you think that he might have been told off for a bad habit like that. From then on he ate properly, carefully using his utensils and always chewing with his mouth closed.

From the moment he had brought the turkey in, you had felt your mouth water. You hadn’t eaten anything all day and the food laying out before you felt torturous. You didn’t make a sound however, trying to conserve all of your energy into not bursting into another round of tears. Your stomach on the other hand, had no such qualms, and loudly made its presence known.

The blonde looked over at you, to your uneaten plate of food, and then back to you. He was about to ask why you hadn’t started eating before he realized the obvious. Gulping down the last of his diet soda, of which he had put into a glass with ice to look slightly nicer, he made his way past the table and back over to you.

All you could do was sit there, cursing your stomach and every decision that led you to this horrible fate. Standing at far over six feet, he easily towered over you, causing the shaking from earlier to come back tenfold. You must have looked like a frightened little lamb to the big bad wolf. He cupped your face in his hands, rough from years of war. By now you had begun hyperventilating, shoulders moving up and down in desperate disharmony. You tried to suck as much air as possible in but the gag in your mouth stopped most of the air flow. He reached his right hand farther up your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were any place but here. Any images of tropical vacation were vanquished after he softly removed the fabric. It was soaked with hours worth of saliva and he threw it off to the side on the table.

Properly swallowing for the first time in hours, your lips finally closed. You still shook but had noticeably calmed down as he focused on your lips.

“A-Alfred.” You finally whispered. “W-Why? I don’t u-understand.”

Tears still occasionally fell down and you desperately wanted to hide your face from him with your hands, but couldn’t because of your binds. You desperately searched his eyes for some clue, a hint, anything. But there was nothing there but pure, unbridled, adoration. His face melted into a content smile and he dove in to kiss you with no prior warning.

His lips melded against yours and he furiously attacked them until you opened. The man pressed you farther against the chair, using both of his hands to keep your head in place. His tongue swirled around your mouth, traversing every cavity and frantically tried to keep your own in this cursed dance. He finally parted from you, a string of saliva connecting you until it finally snapped.

Even more tears had begun to form, all threatening to fall at the slightest motion or whisper. Alfred brushed his thumb over your soaked eyelash, clearing your vision in that eye for just a moment.

“Does that answer your question?” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, taking in the smell. “I just love you that much.”

Suddenly reminded as to why he had come over to the other side of the table, Alfred quickly pulled out an empty chair and sat next to you. He unwound the napkin and the utensils, placing all of them in the correct positionings like he had been taught to do. He then pulled the plate towards the edge of the table, carefully stabbing a piece of turkey he had cut apart with a fork.

“Say aww!” He urged, but you knew it was more of a command.

You opened your mouth, feeling completely demeaned by the nature of the situation. He couldn’t even let you use your own hands. Your chewing was slow as your mouth still hurt from the gag. Alfred didn’t seem to mind as he just fed you another piece, repeating the cycle a few more times. Finally it seemed like he had finally gotten enough out of you and stopped, only to be repeated with a different food instead. As you were chewing, he spoke adoringly to you.

“I love you (Y/n).” He said as he continued to dote on you. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

[venbetta]

The "Golden Child" Headcanon (Glamrock Freddy)

Something I've constantly based my interpretation of Freddy on is him being the golden child of Glamrock era. (Mixed with the pyromaniac Freddy hc)

For those curious, golden child syndrome is "One who is favored or the favorite (in a family, on a team, at work, etc.), often held in high esteem by others, and for whom there are high hopes"

I thought it fit him pretty well. It's not canon. It's my hc/portrayal of him... with no Michael Afton influence involved.

Enjoy

____________________________________________

Fazbear Entertainment have always been under fire for the decades of failed franchises and establishments, following the grizzly tales of child murders, conspiracy, and corporate corruption. Along with technological malpractice, injuries, negligence and many other violations under the sun.

With the new Mega Pizzaplex underway, they might as well have slapped a new coat paint against the many dozen layers of past mistakes.

The well known iterations of Freddy Fazbear have always shifted through the times, but he's the face of the company, so it's great to make him both recognizable and a role model for all children. Every Freddy that's been made almost had a paternal facet to them, some more than others.

Glamrock Freddy was no different, only rocking the glamrock aesthetic and based on the late singer Freddie Mercury.

His design was simple yet his build was far more advanced than any of his predecessors, and due to the company's tendency of shrouding the past, they wanted to make him even more inviting.

The usual coding followed a similar format with permanent traits:

Optimistic, passive, charismatic, and committed, to name a few.

These traits are what made Glamrock Freddy “Freddy Fazbear”, or at least a modern version of him.

The company wanted these traits to be followed to a T, not wanting incidents from the past occurring the same way. While they wanted their other glamrock stars to strive, their focus on the main attraction caused some shortcomings in managing the cast.

Overlooking some programming errors and disregarding the less than desirable traits given to the other mascots.

Because of their fixation on Freddy, the others suffered.

The company perfected Freddy's programming and wanted nothing but that from him. Anything less would result in disciplinary measures or “bug fixes” to make sure he knew how to work properly.

Freddy's optimism was overbearing to the point that it felt unnatural and forced. His general disposition was the friendly front man, but in the confines of his room, he was aware of his lack of independence.

Some companions, like Chica and Bonnie, although we're programmed relationships, he leaned on them as his lifeline. Most of his bandmates meant a lot to him, as they were all made under the same creators that have each of them life and sentience.

Seeing children happy was another thing that kept him going, knowing he was created specifically for the joy of children.

However, a single mistake or flaw in a performance could cause him to internally spiral and shut down. When that happens, Freddy retreats to a charging station or his greenroom to contemplate his actions. Even when nothing happened, he couldn't help but be rattled, on edge knowing that the higher ups were always watching. All eyes were on him after all. Not a single slip up should be happening, not when he was a perfect machine created to make people happy.

His hyperactivity and drive to keep guest spirits up would mess up his battery charge, leading to more needed breaks. But that wasn't something he needed, he just needed to keep working.

Because what good would he be if he wasn't striving to work harder to make others happy.

[mostlyinthemorning]

Highlander Rewatch Episodes 1.2-1.6

I have been doing a very poor job of my rewatch summaries for Highlander, so here is a group post for:

1.2 Family Tree

1.3 The Road Not Taken

1.4 Innocent Man

1.5 Free Fall

1.6 Bay Day in Building A

1.2 Family Tree

It was a bold choice to have the second episode of the show focus entirely on Richie's backstory (a bold choice, but not necessarily a good one-where is Tessa's backstory episode?). Macleod is much smilier in this episode, which makes for a nice change from his usual Broody McBrooderson personality. And apparently, he cooks - get yourself a 400 year old man who knows his way around the kitchen!

There's a scene in the middle of this episode that is just Richie walking around the city talking to people with soundtrack music playing and this is the kind of television that 10-episode/season streaming has taken from us.

There are no sword fights in this episode but there are two very fun scenes where Macleod practically giggles with joy as he's defeating a couple of goons barehanded.

1.3 The Road Not Taken

I found the plot of this episode was a little weak - an old friend of Macleod's is developing a drug that will...bring peace? help humanity? something? Anyway, it does not do that, instead, it makes people strong and then kills them. Macleod is unhappy about this.

I think this is the first appearance of the classic Macleod trench coat, which is an important milestone. Richie ends the episode by kissing an old girlfriend...who is never seen on the show again. Are we supposed to believe Richie is some sort of teenage player? Annoyance with Richie's character is slowing increasing.

1.4 Innocent Man

I liked this episode quite a lot, although the ending tried to be a bit too cute in tying the past and present storylines together. Guest starring Vincent Schiavelli, who is one of those classic 80s character actors who is recognizable, but not known by name. One of Mac's old friends is killed and Mac sets out to discover the truth about who killed him. One of the best early themes for the show is how incompetent the police are in every episode. More police incompetence on today's TV, please!

I would also like to highlight this shot, which catapulted me directly back to my rural childhood in a way that would take far too long to explain.

1.5 Free Fall

Look, everyone! It's Joan Jett!

Joan Jett is the absolute bomb and I won't hear anything against her, but I will say that the moment she seduced Richie should have been the moment that everyone in this show realized she was up to something, because, come on.

Anyway, it's a wonder Macleod is still alive, what with the way he continually lets other immortals off the hook.

Much swordplay in this episode and a delightful scene where Tessa holds her own using a welding torch.

Side note: Everyone wears so many vests in this show. Did we really wear that many vests in the 90s? I guess we did.

1.6 Bay Day in Building A

I think this is the episode where the show is finally starting to find its feet. Interestingly, there's no flashback scene in this episode, nor is there another immortal. It's basically a hostage taking episode, with the twist that shooting hostage!Macleod is not going to get the results you expect.

That's all I have for now, I'll be back with random thoughts about the next unspecified number of episodes! Stay tuned!

[maygrcnt]

omg so glad i'm not the only one being haunted by the charlie thing? (also, and i know this is very far-fetched but it's the weewoo show so, but abigail spencer being a guest star in episode 8 is well-known enough to hypothetically be a victim named charlie in a hypothetical car crash that leads to a hypothetical nde for buck or eddie and some hypothetical definitive buddie going canon moment. maybe even an almost kiss. hypothetically.)

first of all i’m here with you that detail literally makes me crazy. second of all i can’t. stop. thinking. about abigail spencer like … megan hunt what are you DOING HERE??? dana scott what’s UP. like i know it means nothing but okay guest star who’s two recent recognizable roles are the show with the most famous will they won’t they main couple and the show with an insanely famous slow burn….. sureeeee man. idk i think she’s got something to do with it too

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode 9: Home

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Home

Oh yay. The episode that began my lifelong hatred of John Winchester.

When Sam has visions of a woman in trouble at the old Winchester house in Lawrence, Kansas, he makes Dean go back home in an attempt to both help the new homeowner and possibly discover what really happened to their mother.

This episode annoys me so much I almost don't even want to write about it...but I will.

So it's been 22 years since the fire and John presumably selling the house. (By the way, where did the money from the sale of the house go because it didn't go to housing or feeding the boys, but I digress.)

It's been sold more than once (if they mention how many times in this episode I missed it) because this new family just moved in and shit is happening that Sam dreams about. Now you're caught up.

We know it's the old Winchester house because the new owner finds a wooden box with stuff in it including what looks like could be a handmade card that says DAD across it (which would have had to be from Dean) and some pictures. Another question, why did John leave this box behind? Especially when it gets established in this episode that Dean has family pics. Why save some and not all, John? Huh?

Sam has a dream something bad is going to happen and demands they go back to Lawrence. As anyone not self-involved would be able to guess, Dean is not so keen on this idea given the last time he was in the house he saw his mother burning.

"I swore to myself that I'd never go back there."

Now I know Dean swore this when he got older but I did get a kick out of the idea of a four-year-old making himself a solemn oath to never go back to that house. Actually,that would be very Dean-like.

In spite of that, Dean knows that they have to go check it out. Dean tries to lie to the new homeowner that they're FBI but Sam interrupts with the truth...kind of. He gives their real names and says they just wanted to see the old house.

This happens a lot in fiction and I have to tell you if strangers came to my house and said "we used to live here can we look around" I'd say 'fuck no" for various reasons, among them, I'd need time to clean the damn house but more pressing would be WHY WOULD I LET STRANGERS IN MY HOUSE?

They find out about the weird stuff happening at the house and when Sam tries to get Dean to open up about how he feels about being home Dean drops a truth bomb Sam didn't expect:

"I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions have come true."

Thus begins the storyline of psychic Sam and how somehow this freaks Dean the fuck out. I guess because Dean doesn't want to look at Sam like he's a 'monster' but I still always thought they went a little overboard with how much Sam being psychic weirded Dean out.

Also, I'm team Psychic Sam all the way. They should have never taken his powers away from him.

We have another episode where Dean's instincts about what the monster of the week is - is. I get that Sam is out of practice but we end up hearing about what a great hunter Sam is and, really, from the get-go Dean had it all over him.

We do get some good tidbits in this episode about the night of the fire. 22 years later and Sam JUST learns that Dean was the one who got him out of the house that night. How does that not get mentioned in all that time?

Oh here's how: John never told Dean or Sam what he thought killed Mary. So 22 years of running around the country chasing monsters and almost getting killed and John never actually discussed specifics with the boys. Nice. Nice.

After sharing with Sam about getting him out of the house, Dean ducks out under the guise of having to use the bathroom and makes a desperate call to John's cell phone and we learn that Dean has been leaving messages for John ever since they discovered the phone was turned back on...and, of fucking course, John hasn't responded to any of them.

"...I’m with Sam. And we’re in Lawrence. And there’s something in our old house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not, but….(at this point his voice starts to shake and he's trying to keep it all together)…I don’t know what to do. (THEN HE STARTS TO CRY) So, whatever you’re doing, if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad."

So of course the next scene is John calling Dean back right?

RIGHT?

Of fucking course not. I hate that (fictional) man so much.

We find out that John was co-owner of a garage until the fire made him nuts. Dean and Sam talk to his former partner who tells them that John "sure loved Mary and doted on those kids." Also, the partner begged John to get help so someone saw John going down a bad path and tried to do something.

This dude gives them a lead: John hood up with a "palm reader in town" and the boys track down Missouri (again, thanks to Dean remembering something John wrote in his journal about Missouri).

A side note about Missouri. I know everyone loves her but she was at the very least counseling John and knew about Dean and Sam and STILL John ended up being John. As a psychic, she could have done more, IMO, to protect those boys.

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." Is what John wrote in his journal. So he knew all along and never.told.the.fucking.boys.

You'll note I usually write Dean and Sam. That's because normal people usually say the older sibling's name first. On Supernatural Sam gets first billing, I'm guessing, because Jared got first billing. It's stupid. I always thought it was stupid and I will always hate it.

I only bring it up because when they go see Missouri they don't even have an opportunity to lie about how they are, she clocks them as "Sam and Dean" immediately. She only knew Sam as an infant. It makes so much more sense that she would have said "Dean and Sam" is all I'm saying.

As an aside, in my notes I made a point of writing down that this episode is rife with dramatic close-ups of Dean. This is supposed to be Sam's story, really, but the director reminds us at all times that it's also Dean's.

We get an obligatory dumb thing to happen to move the plot along when the mom in the Winchester house leaves her baby alone in the kitchen after all kinds of sketchy stuff has been going on...only to give us a truly frightening moment when the kid crawls into the open fridge and gets locked in. Christ, that was scarier than most of this show's monsters.

Dean makes it his job to make sure "no one else dies" in the house/ Because it's always on him.

I think this is the first episode where we see hex bags (although they don't call them that). Missouri and Dean are making them and are going to shove them into the walls of the house. Okay, let's go.

I don't know if it was my tv, my eyes, the time of day I watched the episode or the actual episode itself, but man this one seemed to be shot much more darkly than other episodes.

The poltergeist basically kicks Misssouri's and Sam's asses while Dean fends it off...and comes to Sam's rescue...of course.

They trash the house in their efforts to get rid of the poltergeist...and Dean seemingly does just that according to Missouri.

When the owner comes back to the house, Missouri tells her Dean will clean up. She's been giving Dean shit the entire episode with no explanation. It makes no sense. Dean is the one who was old enough that she would have remembered, connected with. Why is she so shitty to him.?

They all leave with literally no proof that they've done anything but destroy the house and the new owner is all "Thanks!"

Just like the film Poltergeist, even though they thought the thing was gone...it wasn't. And Sam senses it so luckily they are right outside the house when Sam's vision starts to come true and they rush in to save the day.

The poltergeist is still in the house...but so is another ghost...Mary Winchester.

And she's a bit of a drama queen...appearing to them in flames. And she only says three things, their names "Dean." "Sam." and then she says "I'm sorry" to Sam. That's it. Then she turns around, yells at the poltergeist and he leaves.

Who knew it was that simple?

We get a shot of Dean holding a picture of him holding Sam and it is just too squee for words.

So according to Missouri, Mary "destroyed herself" when she yelled at the poltergeist so the house is clean of ghosts and hopefully (I guess) that means Mary got destroyed to Heaven.

The last thing Missouri says to them is "Don't you boys be strangers." Dean's response? "We won't."

Twelve years later Dean and Sam see her again.

We get a huge reveal at the end of the episode which isn't that huge a reveal since Jeffrey Dean Morgan's damn name was in the opening credits but when Missouri goes home, guess who's there? Fucking John.

Missouri can't figure out why with his psychic powers Sam couldn't sense John was there. She tells him Mary DID save the boys and she's upset he won't tell them he's there. He tells her he can't until he 'knows the truth.'

Oh shut the fuck up, John. You suck so goddamn hard.

Some notes for posterity:

THERE IS NO MUSIC IN THIS EPISODE. None. WTH?

Dean tries to tell the new homeowner they're FBI but Sam tells the truth. They pose as cops investigating the house fire/John's disappearance when interviewing his ex-business partner.

Movie References: Dean brings up both The Shining and a reference to Poltergeist in this one.

This hunt takes place in Lawrence, Kansas.

Dean wears John’s jacket in this episode but only at the end.

Not including the pilot and John's outgoing voicemail message, this is the first time both John and Mary are in an episode taking place in the current day.

Recognizable Guest Stars: Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Samantha Smith, Loretta DeVine

[ekjohnston]

Spencer Reid, any given week on Criminal Minds: We have to do more digging before we can know for sure who he is.

Me, who has been watching procedural TV since 1997: HE'S A VERY RECOGNIZABLE GUEST STAR, SPENCER

My mother, who birthed me and has never really understood me: How can you always do that?

[lesbiancolumbo]

one of the things i really love is how all the westies are played by recognizable actors but compared to the other omitb guest stars, they're character actor people. and to have their ringleader/mentor figure be played by like one of the og "hey it's THAT guy from that thing!" guys is like. so charming to me specifically. i love that

[mashmaiden]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Eric Christian Olsen Fans (@ericchristianolsenfans)

Well, I bugged @ericchristianolsenfans all day to make this post (and she obliged me cuz she's awesome!), but I should probably also share it here before the day ends! 😂 (Plus, I provided her with the screencaps, so it's technically like half my post too! 😂😂)

But Get Real turns 25 today (Sep 8)! I still don't know how I missed this show when it was actually airing on TV. I was totally the right demographic and would've loved it! Thankfully, in the past few years, some wonderful people have put the episodes up on YouTube so I've finally gotten to see them all! Well, all the ones that aired in the US - the show was canceled with two episodes to go, but some of the international broadcasts actually aired those episodes. Maybe someday those will surface again. Till then, if you search on yt you can find the 20 aired episodes and enjoy some young ECO!

There are also a fair number of recognizable faces who guest star in the series, which is fun to see too!!

[hootenanie]

if you where an actor in the 70s who had achieved moderate fame and seemed recognizibly not straight they made you guest star on Columbo as the killer of the week it was like manitory military service for them

[trillscienceofficer]

Reverse unpopular opinion: do you have any thoughts about costuming in trek?

[For the reverse unpopular opinion ask game, where I talk about an aspect I like of any topic]

I generally have no strong opinion on costuming and alien make-up on Trek. I'm actually quite impressed by what the costuming department managed to deliver week after week back in the 90s, oftentimes with scripts that were only at a very early stage when it was time to start designing. I'm still very much in awe at the gigantic effort that was doing Far Beyond the Stars and Killing Time at the same time, delivering hundreds of period- and location-appropriate costumes!! From what I've read the guest actors seemed to appreciate that the costumes were made with their characters in mind, as it allowed them to physically inhabit their roles much more easier. Certainly a lot of designs for older Trek seem quite dated in a way that's not as iconic as the 60s low-budget miracles of TOS, and yet I think they sort of manage to make 90s Trek still very easily recognizable. It's likely that the costuming in the recent/current live action shows will date them just as much!

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Pheobe Waller Bridge, cover story for Vanity Fair July/August 2023 speaks about life and work since Fleabag, including Star Wars, Indiana Jones (finding out Harrison Ford is a massive Fleabag fan) and her future projects including Laura Croft. (The interview also includes some lovely quotes from Andrew Scott.)

(on being recognized and interacting with fans) “The funny thing about Fleabag fans is they are so apologetic,” “Gentle, gentle people. I think when you write a show about love, people come to you with love.”...

“My friend thinks that maybe I am still stuck in that moment pre–all this madness, because I still have no real awareness of how recognizable I am now. I think maybe it’s a kind of thing that I’ve done subconsciously on purpose, because I’m not going to hide out. But I’m always surprised!”

Speaking about Waller-Bridge’s gifts as a storyteller, Scott compares her to the host of a dinner party who leads guests gently through the evening: “Her hands are on the smalls of their back and it feels like, ‘Okay, this is my party, and I want to make sure you have fun, so let me introduce you, first of all, to the bar. And here’s a handsome stranger….’ Audiences love to gasp and they like truth as well. And I think Phoebe’s able to juggle all those things because of her enormous brain, but also because of her enormous heart.” He pauses. “I’ve just found her to be incredibly thoughtful and fun—and just good at life. She’s good at life!”