#the interview itself is 10 minutes long

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Couch surfer in his 30s. Oscar winner in his 40s. Why the whole world wants Taika

**Notes: This is very long post!**

Good Weekend

In his 30s, he was sleeping on couches. By his 40s, he’d directed a Kiwi classic, taken a Marvel movie to billion-dollar success, and won an Oscar. Meet Taika Waititi, king of the oddball – and one of New Zealand’s most original creative exports.

Taika Waititi: “Be a nice person and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole.”

The good news? Taika Waititi is still alive. I wasn’t sure. The screen we were speaking through jolted savagely a few minutes ago, with a cacophonous bang and a confused yelp, then radio silence. Now the Kiwi ­ filmmaker is back, grinning like a loon: “I just broke the f---ing table, bro!”

Come again? “I just smashed this f---ing table and glass flew everywhere. It’s one of those old annoying colonial tables. It goes like this – see that?” Waititi says, holding up a folding furniture leg. “I hit the mechanism and it wasn’t locked. Anyway …”

I’m glad he’s fine. The stuff he’s been saying from his London hotel room could incur biblical wrath. We’re talking about his latest project, Next Goal Wins, a movie about the American Samoa soccer team’s quest to score a solitary goal, 10 years after suffering the worst loss in the game’s international history – a 31-0 ­ignominy to Australia – but our chat strays into ­spirituality, then faith, then religion.

“I don’t personally believe in a big guy sitting on a cloud judging everyone, but that’s just me,” Waititi says, deadpan. “Because I’m a grown-up.”

This is the way his interview answers often unfold. Waititi addresses your topic – dogma turns good people bad, he says, yet belief itself is worth lauding – but bookends every response with a conspiratorial nudge, wink, joke or poke. “Regardless of whether it’s some guy living on a cloud, or some other deity that you’ve made up – and they’re all made up – the message across the board is the same, and it’s important: Be a nice person, and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole!”

Not being an arsehole seems to have served Waititi, 48, well. Once a national treasure and indie darling (through the quirky tenderness of his breakout New Zealand films Boy in 2010 and Hunt for the Wilderpeople in 2016), Waititi then became a star of both the global box office (through his 2017 entry into the Marvel Universe, Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion worldwide) and then the Academy Awards (winning the 2020 best adapted screenplay Oscar for his subversive Holocaust dramedy JoJo Rabbit, in which he played an imaginary Hitler).

Waititi playing Adolf Hitler in the 2019 movie JoJo Rabbit. (Alamy)

A handsome devil with undeniable roguish charm, Waititi also slid seamlessly into style-icon status (attending this year’s Met Gala shirtless, in a floor-length gunmetal-grey Atelier Prabal Gurung wrap coat, with pendulous pearl necklaces), as well as becoming his own brand (releasing an eponymous line of canned ­coffee drinks) and bona fide Hollywood A-lister (he was introduced to his second wife, British singer Rita Ora, by actor Robert Pattinson at a barbecue).

Putting that platform to use, Waititi is an Indigenous pioneer and mentor, too, co-creating the critically acclaimed TV series Reservation Dogs, while co-founding the Piki Films production company, committed to promoting the next generation of storytellers – a mission that might sound all weighty and worthy, yet Waititi’s new wave of First Nations work is never earnest, always mixing hurt with heart and howling humour.

Waititi with wife Rita Ora at the 2023 Met Gala in May. (Getty Images)

Makes sense. Waititi is a byproduct of “the weirdest coupling ever” – his late Maori father from the Te Whanau-a-Apanui tribe was an artist, farmer and “Satan’s Slaves” bikie gang founder, while his Wellington schoolteacher mum descended from Russian Jews, although he’s not devout about her faith. (“No, I don’t practise,” he confirms. “I’m just good at everything, straight away.”)

He’s remained loyally tethered to his ­origin story, too – and to a cadre of creative Kiwi mates, including actors Jemaine Clement and Rhys Darby – never forgetting that not long before the actor/writer/producer/director was an industry maven, he was a penniless painter/photographer/ musician/comedian.

With no set title and no fixed address, he’s seemingly happy to be everything, everywhere (to everyone) all at once. “‘The universe’ is bandied around a lot these days, but I do believe in the kind of connective tissue of the universe, and the energy that – scientifically – we are made up of a bunch of atoms that are bouncing around off each other, and some of the atoms are just squished together a bit tighter than others,” he says, smiling. “We’re all made of the same stardust, and that’s pretty special.”

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We’ve caught Waititi in a somewhat relaxed moment, right before the screen actors’ and media artists’ strike ends. He’s ­sensitive to the struggle but doesn’t deny enjoying the break. “I spent a lot of time thinking about writing, and not writing, and having a nice ­holiday,” he tells Good Weekend. “Honestly, it was a good chance just to recombobulate.”

Waititi, at right, with Hunt for the Wilderpeople actors, from left, Sam Neill, Rhys Darby and Julian Dennison. (Getty Images)

It’s mid-October, and he’s just headed to Paris to watch his beloved All Blacks in the Rugby World Cup. He’s deeply obsessed with the game, and sport in general. “Humans spend all of our time knowing what’s going to happen with our day. There’s no surprises ­any more. We’ve become quite stagnant. And I think that’s why people love sport, because of the air of unpredictability,” he says. “It’s the last great arena entertainment.”

The main filmic touchstone for Next Goal Wins (which premieres in Australian cinemas on New Year’s Day) would be Cool Runnings (1993), the unlikely true story of a Jamaican bobsled team, but Waititi also draws from genre classics such as Any Given Sunday and Rocky, sampling trusted tropes like the musical training montage. (His best one is set to Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.)

Filming in Hawaii was an uplifting experience for the self-­described Polynesian Jew. “It wasn’t about death, or people being cruel to each other. Thematically, it was this simple idea, of getting a small win, and winning the game wasn’t even their goal – their goal was to get a goal,” he says. “It was a really sweet backbone.”

Waititi understands this because, growing up, he was as much an athlete as a nerd, fooling around with softball and soccer before discovering rugby league, then union. “There’s something about doing exercise when you don’t know you’re doing exercise,” he enthuses. “It’s all about the fun of throwing a ball around and trying to achieve something together.” (Whenever Waititi is in Auckland he joins his mates in a long-running weekend game of touch rugby. “And then throughout the week I work out every day. Obviously. I mean, look at me.”)

Auckland is where his kids live, too, so he spends as much time there as possible. Waititi met his first wife, producer Chelsea Winstanley, on the set of Boy in 2010, and they had two daughters, Matewa Kiritapu, 8, and his firstborn, Te Kainga O’Te Hinekahu, 11. (The latter is a derivative of his grandmother’s name, but he jokes with American friends that it means “Resurrection of Tupac” or “Mazda RX7″) Waititi and Winstanley split in about 2018, and he married the pop star Ora in 2022.

He offers a novel method for balancing work with parenthood … “Look, you just abandon them, and know that the experience will make them harder individuals later on in life. And it’s their problem,” he says. “I’m going to give them all of the things that they need, and I’m going to leave behind a decent bank ­account for their therapy, and they will be just like me, and the cycle will continue.”

Jokes aside – I think he’s joking – school holidays are always his, and he brings the girls onto the set of every movie he makes. “They know enough not to get in the way or touch anything that looks like it could kill you, and they know to be respectful and quiet when they need to. But they’re just very comfortable around filmmakers, which I’m really happy about, because eventually I hope they will get into the ­industry. One more year,” he laughs, “then they can leave school and come work for Dad.”

Theirs is certainly a different childhood than his. Growing up, he was a product of two worlds. His given names, for instance, were based on his appearance at birth: “Taika David” if he looked Maori (after his Maori grandfather) and “David Taika” if he looked Pakeha (after his white grandfather). His parents split when he was five, so he bounced between his dad’s place in Waihau Bay, where he went by the surname Waititi, and his mum, eight hours drive away in Wellington, where he went by Cohen (the last name on his birth ­certificate and passport).

Waititi was precocious, even charismatic. His mother Robin once told Radio New Zealand that people always wanted to know him, even as an infant: “I’d be on a bus with him, and he was that kind of baby who smiled at people, and next thing you know they’re saying, ‘Can I hold your baby?’ He’s always been a charmer to the public eye.”

He describes himself as a cool, sporty, good-looking nerd, raised on whatever pop culture screened on the two TV channels New Zealand offered in the early 1980s, from M*A*S*H and Taxi to Eddie Murphy and Michael Jackson. He was well-read, too. When punished by his mum, he would likely be forced to analyse a set of William Blake poems.

He puts on a whimpering voice to describe their finances – “We didn’t have much monneeey” – explaining how his mum spent her days in the classroom but also worked in pubs, where he would sit sipping a raspberry lemonade, doodling drawings and writing stories. She took in ­ironing and cleaned houses; he would help out, learning valuable lessons he imparts to his kids. “And to random people who come to my house,” he says. “I’ll say, ‘Here’s a novel idea, wash this dish,’ but people don’t know how to do anything these days.”

“Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met or a story I’ve stolen from someone.” - Taika Waititi

He loved entertaining others, clearly, but also himself, recording little improvised radio plays on a tape deck – his own offbeat versions of ET and Indiana Jones and Star Wars. “Great free stuff where you don’t have any idea what the story is as you’re doing it,” he says. “You’re just sort of making it up and enjoying the ­freedom of playing god in this world where you can make people and characters do whatever you want.”

His other sphere of influence lay in Raukokore, the tiny town where his father lived. Although Boy is not autobiographical, it’s deeply personal insofar as it’s filmed in the house where he grew up, and where he lived a life similar to that portrayed in the story, surrounded by his recurring archetypes: warm grandmothers and worldly kids; staunch, stoic mums; and silly, stunted men. “Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met,” he says, “or a story I’ve stolen from someone.”

He grew to love drawing and painting, obsessed early on with reproducing the Sistine Chapel. During a 2011 TED Talk on creativity, Waititi describes his odd subject matter, from swastikas and fawns to a picture of an old lady going for a walk … upon a sword … with Robocop. “My father was an outsider artist, even though he wouldn’t know what that meant,” Waititi told the audience in Doha. “I love the naive. I love people who can see things through an innocent viewpoint. It’s inspiring.”

After winning Best Adapted Screenplay Academy Award for JoJo Rabbit in 2020. (Getty Images)

It was an interesting time in New Zealand, too – a coming-of-age decade in which the Maori were rediscovering their culture. His area was poor, “but only ­financially,” he says. “It’s very rich in terms of the ­people and the culture.” He learned kapa haka – the songs, dances and chants performed by competing tribes at cultural events, or to honour people at funerals and graduations – weddings, parties, ­anything. “Man, any excuse,” he explains. “A big part of doing them is to uplift your spirits.”

Photography was a passion, so I ask what he shot. “Just my penis. I sent them to people, but we didn’t have phones, so I would print them out, post them. One of the first dick pics,” he says. Actually, his lens was trained on regular people. He watches us still – in airports, ­restaurants. “Other times late at night, from a tree. Whatever it takes to get the story. You know that.”

He went to the Wellington state school Onslow College and did plays like Androcles and the Lion, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Crucible. His crew of arty students eventually ended up on stage at Bats Theatre in the city, where they would perform haphazard comedy shows for years.

“Taika was always rebellious and wild in his comedy, which I loved,” says his high school mate Jackie van Beek, who became a longtime collaborator, including working with Waititi on a Tourism New Zealand campaign this year. “I remember he went through a phase of turning up in bars around town wearing wigs, and you’d try and sit down and have a drink with him but he’d be doing some weird character that would invariably turn up in some show down the track.”

He met more like-minded peers at Victoria University, including Jemaine Clement (who’d later become co-creator of Flight of the Conchords). During a 2019 chat with actor Elijah Wood, Waititi ­describes he and Clement clocking one another from opposite sides of the library one day: a pair of Maoris experiencing hate at first sight, based on a mutual suspicion of cultural appropriation. (Clement was wearing a traditional tapa cloth Samoan shirt, and Waititi was like: “This motherf---er’s not Samoan.” Meanwhile, Waititi was wearing a Rastafarian beanie, and Clement was like, “This ­motherf---er’s not Jamaican.”)

With Jemaine Clement in 2014. (Getty Images)

But they eventually bonded over Blackadder and Fawlty Towers, and especially Kenny Everett, and did comedy shows together everywhere from Edinburgh to Melbourne. Waititi was almost itinerant, spending months at a time busking, or living in a commune in Berlin. He acted in a few small films, and then – while playing a stripper on a bad TV show – realised he wanted to try life behind the camera. “I became tired of being told what to do and ordered around,” he told Wellington’s Dominion Post in 2004. “I remember sitting around in the green room in my G-string ­thinking, ‘Why am I doing this? Just helping someone else to realise their dream.’ ”

He did two strong short films, then directed his first feature – Eagle vs Shark (2007) – when he was 32. He brought his mates along (Clement, starring with Waititi’s then-girlfriend Loren Horsley), setting something of a pattern in his career: hiring friends instead of constantly navigating new working relationships. “If you look at things I’m doing,” he tells me, “there’s ­always a few common denominators.”

Sam Neill says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “The basis of it is this: we’re just a little bit crap at things.”

This gang of collaborators shares a common Kiwi vibe, too, which his longtime friend, actor Rhys Darby, once coined “the comedy of the mundane”. Their new TV show, Our Flag Means Death, for example, leans heavily into the mundanity of pirate life – what happens on those long days at sea when the crew aren’t unsheathing swords from scabbards or burying treasure.

Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard, centre, in Our Flag Means Death, with Rhys Darby, left, and Rory Kinnear. (Google Images)

Sam Neill, who first met Waititi when starring in Hunt for the Wilderpeople, says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “And I think the basis of it is this,” says Neill. “We’re just a little bit crap at things, and that in itself is funny.” After all, Neill asks, what is What We Do in The Shadows (2014) if not a film (then later a TV show) about a bunch of vampires who are pretty crap at being vampires, ­living in a pretty crappy house, not quite getting busted by crappy local cops? “New Zealand often gets named as the least corrupt country in the world, and I think it’s just that we would be pretty crap at being corrupt,” Neill says. “We don’t have the capacity for it.”

Waititi’s whimsy also spurns the dominant on-screen oeuvre of his homeland – the so-called “cinema of ­unease” exemplified by the brutality of Once Were Warriors (1994) and the emotional peril of The Piano (1993). Waititi still explores pathos and pain, but through laughter and weirdness. “Taika feels to me like an ­antidote to that dark aspect, and a gift somehow,” Neill says. “And I’m grateful for that.”

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Something happened to Taika Waititi when he was about 11 – something he doesn’t go into with Good Weekend, but which he considered a betrayal by the adults in his life. He ­mentioned it only recently – not the ­moment itself, but the lesson he learnt: “That you cannot and must not rely on grown-ups to help you – you’re basically in the world alone, and you’re gonna die alone, and you’ve just gotta make it all for yourself,” he told Irish podcast host James Brown. “I basically never forgave people in positions of responsibility.”

What does that mean in his work? First, his finest films tend to reflect the clarity of mind possessed by children, and the unseen worlds they create – fantasies conjured up as a way to understand or overcome. (His mum once summed up the main ­message of Boy: “The ­unconditional love you get from your children, and how many of us waste that, and don’t know what we’ve got.”)

Second, he’s suited to movie-making – “Russian roulette with art” – because he’s drawn to disruptive force and chaos. And that in turn produces creative defiance: allowing him to reinvigorate the Marvel Universe by making superheroes fallible, or tell a Holocaust story by making fun of Hitler. “Whenever I have to deal with someone who’s a boss, or in charge, I challenge them,” he told Brown, “and I really do take whatever they say with a pinch of salt.”

It’s no surprise then that Waititi was comfortable leaping from independent films to the vast complexity of Hollywood blockbusters. He loves the challenge of coordinating a thousand interlocking parts, requiring an army of experts in vocations as diverse as construction, sound, art, performance and logistics. “I delegate a lot,” he says, “and share the load with a lot of people.”

“This is a cool concept, being able to ­afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.” - Taika Waititi

But the buck stops with him. Time magazine named Waititi one of its Most Influential 100 People of 2022. “You can tell that a film was made by Taika Waititi the same way you can tell a piece was painted by Picasso,” wrote Sacha Baron Cohen. Compassionate but comic. Satirical but watchable. Rockstar but auteur. “Actually, sorry, but this guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Cohen concluded. “Can someone else write this piece?”

Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office. (Alamy)

I’m curious to know how he stays grounded amid such adulation. Coming into the game late, he says, helped immensely. After all, Waititi was 40 by the time he left New Zealand to do Thor: Ragnarok. “If you let things go to your head, then it means you’ve struggled to find out who you are,” he says. “But I’ve always felt very comfortable with who I am.” Hollywood access and acclaim – and the pay cheques – don’t erase memories of poverty, either. “It’s more like, ‘Oh, this is a cool concept, being able to ­afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.’ ” Small towns and strong tribes keep him in check, too. “You know you can’t piss around and be a fool, because you’re going to embarrass your family,” he says. “Hasn’t stopped me, though.”

Sam Neill says there was never any doubt Waititi would be able to steer a major movie with energy and imagination. “It’s no accident that the whole world wants Taika,” he says. “But his seductiveness comes with its own dangers. You can spread yourself a bit thin. The temptation will be to do more, more, more. That’ll be interesting to watch.”

Indeed, I find myself vicariously stressed out over the list of potential projects in Waititi’s future. A Roald Dahl animated series for Netflix. An Apple TV show based on the 1981 film Time Bandits. A sequel to What We Do In The Shadows. A reboot of Flash Gordon. A gonzo horror comedy, The Auteur, starring Jude Law. Adapting a cult graphic novel, The Incal, as a feature. A streaming series based on the novel Interior Chinatown. A film based on a Kazuo Ishiguro bestseller. Plus bringing to life the wildly popular Akira comic books. Oh, and for good measure, a new instalment of Star Wars, which he’s already warned the world will be … different.

“It’s going to change things,” he told Good Morning America. “It’s going to change what you guys know and expect.”

Did I say I was stressed for Waititi? I meant physically sick.

“Well…” he qualifies, “some of those things I’m just producing, so I come up with an idea or someone comes to me with an idea, and I shape how ‘it’s this kind of show’ and ‘here’s how we can get it made.’ It’s easier for me to have a part in those things and feel like I’ve had a meaningful role in the creative process, but also not having to do what I’ve always done, which is trying to control everything.”

In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows, which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement. (Alamy)

What about moving away from the niche New Zealand settings he represented so well in his early work? How does he stay connected to his roots? “I think you just need to know where you’re from,” he says, “and just don’t forget that.”

They certainly haven’t forgotten him.

Jasmin McSweeney sits in her office at the New Zealand Film Commission in Wellington, surrounded by promotional posters Waititi signed for her two decades ago, when she was tasked with promoting his nascent talent. Now the organisation’s marketing chief, she talks to me after visiting the heart of thriving “Wellywood”, overseeing the traditional karakia prayer on the set of a new movie starring Geoffrey Rush.

Waititi isn’t the first great Kiwi filmmaker – dual Oscar-winner Jane Campion and blockbuster king Peter Jackson come to mind – yet his particular ascendance, she says, has spurred unparalleled enthusiasm. “Taika gave everyone here confidence. He always says, ‘Don’t sit around waiting for people to say, you can do this.’ Just do it, because he just did it. That’s the Taika effect.”

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Taika David Waititi is known for wearing everything from technicolour dreamcoats to pineapple print rompers, and today he’s wearing a roomy teal and white Isabel Marant jumper. The mohair garment has the same wispy frizz as his hair, which curls like a wave of grey steel wool, and connects with a shorn salty beard.

A stylish silver fox, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if he suddenly announced he was launching a fashion label. He’s definitely a commercial animal, to the point of directing television commercials for Coke and Amazon, along with a fabulous 2023 spot for Belvedere vodka starring Daniel Craig. He also joined forces with a beverage company in Finland (where “taika” means “magic”) to release his coffee drinks. Announcing the partnership on social media, he flagged that he would be doing more of this kind of stuff, too (“Soz not soz”).

Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to spirits.

There’s substance behind the swank. Fashion is a creative outlet but he’s also bought sewing machines in the past with the intention of designing and making clothes, and comes from a family of tailors. “I learnt how to sew a button on when I was very young,” he says. “I learnt how to fix holes or patches in your clothes, and darn things.”

And while he gallivants around the globe watching Wimbledon or modelling for Hermès at New York Fashion Week, all that glamour belies a depth of purpose, particularly when it comes to Indigenous representation.

There’s a moment in his new movie where a Samoan player realises that their Dutch coach, played by Michael Fassbender, is emotionally struggling, and he offers a lament for white people: “They need us.” I can’t help but think Waititi meant something more by that line – maybe that First Nations people have ­wisdom to offer if others will just listen?

“Weeelllll, a little bit …” he says – but from his intonation, and what he says next, I’m dead wrong. Waititi has long been sick of reverent ­portrayals of Indigenous people talking to kehua (spirits), or riding a ghost waka (phantom canoe), or playing a flute on a mountain. “Always the boring characters,” he says. “They’ve got no real contemporary relationship with the world, because they’re always living in the past in their spiritual ways.”

A scene from Next Goal Wins, filmed earlier this year. (Alamy)

He’s part of a vanguard consciously poking fun at those stereotypes. Another is the Navajo writer and director Billy Luther, who met Waititi at Sundance Film Festival back in 2003, along with Reservation Dogs co-creator Sterlin Harjo. “We were this group of outsiders trying to make films, when nobody was really biting,” says Luther. “It was a different time. The really cool thing about it now is we’re all working. We persevered. We didn’t give up. We slept on each other’s couches and hung out. It’s like family.”

Waititi has power now, and is known for using Indigenous interns wherever possible (“because there weren’t those opportunities when I was growing up”), making important introductions, offering feedback on scripts, and lending his name to projects through executive producer credits, too, which he did for Luther’s new feature film, Frybread Face and Me (2023).

He called Luther back from the set of Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) to offer advice on working with child actors – “Don’t box them into the characters you’ve ­created,” he said, “let them naturally figure it out on their own” – but it’s definitely harder to get Waititi on the phone these days. “He’s a little bitch,” Luther says, laughing. “Nah, there’s nothing like him. He’s a genius. You just knew he was going to be something. I just knew it. He’s my brother.“

I’ve been asked to explicitly avoid political questions in this interview, probably because Waititi tends to back so many causes, from child poverty and teenage suicide to a campaign protesting offshore gas and oil exploration near his tribal lands. But it’s hard to ignore his recent Instagram post, sharing a viral video about the Voice to Parliament referendum starring Indigenous Aussie rapper Adam Briggs. After all, we speak only two days after the proposal is defeated. “Yeah, sad to say but, Australia, you really shat the bed on that one,” Waititi says, pausing. “But go see my movie!”

About that movie – the early reviews aren’t great. IndieWire called it a misfire, too wrapped in its quirks to develop its arcs, with Waititi’s directorial voice drowning out his characters, while The Guardian called it “a shoddily made and strikingly unfunny attempt to tell an interesting story in an uninteresting way”. I want to know how he moves past that kind of criticism. “For a start, I never read reviews,” he says, concerned only with the opinion of people who paid for admission, never professional appraisals. “It’s not important to me. I know I’m good at what I do.”

Criticism that Indigenous concepts weren’t sufficiently explained in Next Goal Wins gets his back up a little, though. The film’s protagonist, Jaiyah Saelua, the first transgender football player in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match, is fa’afafine – an American Samoan identifier for someone with fluid genders – but there wasn’t much exposition of this concept in the film. “That’s not my job,” Waititi says. “It’s not a movie where I have to explain every facet of Samoan culture to an audience. Our job is to retain our culture, and present a story that’s inherently Polynesian, and if you don’t like it, you can go and watch any number of those other movies out there, 99 per cent of which are terrible.”

*notes: (there is video clip in the article)

Waititi sounds momentarily cranky, but he’s mostly unflappable and hilarious. He’s the kind of guy who prefers “Correctumundo bro!” to “Yes”. When our video connection is too laggy, he plays up to it by periodically pretending to be frozen, sitting perfectly still, mouth open, his big shifting eyeballs the only giveaway.

He’s at his best on set. Saelua sat next to him in Honolulu while filming the joyous soccer sequences. “He’s so chill. He just let the actors do their thing, giving them creative freedom, barely interjecting unless it was something important. His style matches the vibe of the Pacific people. We’re a very funny people. We like to laugh. He just fit perfectly.”

People do seem to love working alongside him, citing his ability to make productions fresh and unpredictable and funny. Chris Hemsworth once said that Waititi’s favourite gag is to “forget” that his microphone is switched on, so he can go on a pantomime rant for all to hear – usually about his disastrous Australian lead actor – only to “remember” that he’s wired and the whole crew is listening.

“I wouldn’t know about that, because I don’t listen to what other people say about anything – I’ve told you this,” Waititi says. “I just try to have fun when there’s time to have fun. And when you do that, and you bring people together, they’re more willing to go the extra mile for you, and they’re more willing to believe in the thing that you’re trying to do.”

Yes, he plays music between takes, and dances out of his director’s chair, but it’s really all about relaxing amid the immense pressure and intense privilege of making movies. “Do you know how hard it is just to get anything financed or green-lit, then getting a crew, ­getting producers to put all the pieces together, and then making it to set?” Waititi asks. “It’s a real gift, even to be working, and I feel like I have to remind ­people of that: enjoy this moment.”

Source: The Age

By: Konrad Marshall (December 1, 2023)

[acesw]

UTTU Part 1: The Magazine

Welcome back to A.D. doing mega lore posting because good god this will never get old. But anyways, this post will be about UTTU and not only about their magazine, but also about their Flash Gathering. (This also counts as my birthday gift for Sonetto since she likes being info-dumped, probably. Happy Birthday Sonetto!)

“Standing in the shadow, we tell all the stories which were once unknown, like a weaver in silence, or a moth light trap in the dark night.” - Pandora Wilson, UTTU Journalist

First, who even is UTTU?

UTTU Magazine is an arcanist magazine organization that releases stories about notable arcanists. According to Blonney, they are "the greatest fashion and arcanist information magazine." They operate globally as well as privately, going so far as to hide the physical identities of their reporters and their main headquarters.

There’s not a lot of things known about how UTTU works, but what we do have is information about their magazine and their Flash Gathering event, which we can start off from there. But first, what does the name mean?

The name ‘Uttu’ comes from the Mesopotamian goddess of the same name, one of Sumerian origin. She was associated with weaving (and spiders but the claim of Uttu being envisioned as a spider is limited).

They sell their magazines in the form of seasonal subscriptions, advising to only purchase the subscription and not much else. From there, they create the articles and send out monthly updates.

UTTU also hosts “Flash Gatherings” for the game’s events as a reading club, where the arcanists are invited to see the UTTU market situated in the area of where the in-game event takes place; they can read the Flash Journal and FLASH:FAME, obtain FAME cards from retails, and get rewards. I’ll get into this in Part 2.

First, we'll explore the magazine since there's so much questions surrounding them.

UTTU Magazine

Of course, the magazine is the main brand of the organization. The magazine has properties in which only arcanists are able to read it (speculation), and it has a scheduled self-update to release new articles/artworks.

The reason why we are able to see such a large amount of information is because from what can be told, Vertin is an avid collector of this media, even being titled “Top Collector” in the introduction of the Green Lake Flash Gathering.

Anyway, the magazine has a very interesting way of how it works, and they even have their own reading guide, including instructions of how to manage the magazine and activate the self-update.

Reader’s Guide and Self-Updating system

Welcome to UTTU. This is a magazine.

Don’t skip this page. Unlike those useless prefaces filled with boring platitudes, this one is important.

1. Don't doubt the truth of UTTU. We only tell true stories that happened to real arcanists.

2. You only need one copy of UTTU. After you make the seasonal subscription, the copy will update itself on 15th every month.

3. Whenever the copy updates itself, please place it below a cupboard or the firewood in a fireplace, but do not leave any fire or light. Then step back to 8.8 feet away and wait for 10-15 minutes. It is normal to hear the sounds of sewing and crawling during the update.

4. Don't be confused about the interviews of the artworks. Please note that anything can be an artwork: they can be alive, or dead. Whoever has a story to tell can be deemed an artwork.

5. You might smell a fine aroma from the pages while reading an interview. This is normal.

6. Do not be shocked by live photographs, and do not let any of them come in contact with dark coffee or matches.

8. Keep UTTU away from fire. This is an arcanum magazine and is definitely not fireproof.

9. Although it's not fireproof, UTTU is waterproof, but please do not soak it in water for too long. If you do so by mistake, please prepare enough insect repellent.

10. Don't ask where article 7 is. (lmao)

11. If you see any ads about nightmare recycle on the attached pages, do not call the number on it or make any attempt to catch those monsters. If your children report strange goings-on to you, comfort them with one extra milk candy before bedtime.

12. Try to enjoy reading UTTU.

The way one could get the magazine is buying a seasonal subscription, and upon receiving it you’d have to take care of it regularly since it is delicate. When updating, you put it in a place where you’d most commonly find spiders. That way, these arcane weavers can multiply and add to the tapestry. Additionally, this magazine seems to be a live and interactive type of media, which does explain the “live photographs” and the spiders.

Magazine Contents

Now, what are the contents of the UTTU Magazine?

First, we look at our Role Atlas. Yes, the Role Atlas is involved in this too.

There are categories of our roster that classify them by what they are: Beyond, awakened, arcanist, mixed, and infected. Now, what are each of these?

Beyond: an Arcanist with unexplainable origins not found within Arcanum (Ex: Voyager and aliEn T are aliens born of supernatural causes rather than arcanum. Jessica is a hybrid species of a deer woman (a spirit in Native American myth) and a changeling (a supernatural creature in European folklore) )

Awakened: an Arcanist who was once an object and has been given sentience one way or another (Ex: Sputnik was a regular space probe as the real Sputnik 1 who gained sentience when entering orbit).

Arcanist: A general term for those who are born with a different physiology that makes them able to sense and use arcanum, this is not limited only to human arcanists. (Ex: Door was born of arcanum on Earth and was always sentient thus is not a Beyond nor Awakened arcanist)

Mixed: People who both have the genetics or blood of a Human and an Arcanist. (Ex: Pavia and Satsuki were implied to be born of a human and an arcanist)

Infected: Currently unknown, no arcanists within this category.

They also have a “Bound Volume”, which serves as a gallery collection of arcanists that Vertin has and has not met. Those she (and we) haven't met will be obscured.

The “Artwork”

Artworks in this game are basically the arcanists that UTTU chooses to write about. As long as there is one to tell, they will conduct an interview and report on it. For each artwork they contain: Exhibition details, Item Collection, and Story/Interview.

First, the cover. Made by my friend and fellow lore chat dweller Rabies En., this is what can be made out of what each part of the exhibition details mean:

And of course, the “Completion” date is their birthday.

When it comes to describing their inspiration, it tends to be left on a vague note and left for speculation. While concluding that the first half is the title of the arcanist’s afflatus, the second half has left most people confused. My speculation is that this latter half is something that is related to their job, hobby, skill, or interest.

For example, Balloon Party’s inspiration is quite straightforward: “Remains of a Rock Formation [Mineral] Bones Balloon.” It directly showcases her afflatus and what she is inspired by, which also goes hand in hand as to what her arcane skill is. Meanwhile, Sonetto’s is more vague and unique: “Trained Loyal Dogs [Mineral] Foreign Affairs.” These reflect her upbringing and main interest respectively. With this theory, I concluded that the afflatus and inspiration boost one’s arcanist’s medium, which in turn helps fuel their arcane skill.

Second, the items. All arcanists have a section that lists personal items that closely pertain to their character, usually, these things would be visible on their person. The author analyzes them and relates them to their story and character. And depending on the item, they are priced by clear drops.

Additionally, if a character has a garment that isn't their I2 (e.g. event garments), they will have a special section for a new set of items. (Ex. Sonetto's Parade Anthem garment isn't exactly her I2 outfit, thus she has another set of items that relate to the uniform.)

Lastly, the Story and Interview; Each and every arcanist is interviewed by Pandora Wilson, another fellow arcanist and one whose face is obscured to the world other than a pair of lips.

The first story is a retelling of their background and upbringing, the second is a story about their daily life or lifestyle, and the third is a transcripted segment of their interview. The interview segments usually starts with Pandora greeting and/or asking a few questions towards the interviewee, but occasionally they also include the end of these interviews.

They highlight parts that make the interviewee unique; It exhibits their distinction, their personality, and most importantly, their overall character and the life they lead. These help us learn about the arcanists in a more deeper level the more we bond with them, as well as learning about the world they live in considering how all of them come from different times.

Now, our magazine analysis ends here. Feel free to ask questions and Part 2 is linked below!

Part 2: The Flash Gathering

[ghostherlig]

Twirling my hair you should totes share more of your Johnny hcs w/ him being trans :3c

asdfadkjdfj my man!! here are some hcs bc i cant keep my mouth shut about him for longer than ten minutes-

(for those who missed the ask-) he worked out to have pecs instead of getting top surgery but he does still think about it sometimes bc he's curious about how that wouldve changed his life

he constantly thinks about getting a chest tattoo- whether that's his mk11 "JOHNNY" tattoo or a chest mural as an homage to kenshi's body murals, he doesnt know, but he wants one

on a similar note, he has a few smaller tattoos that only a few people know about- like a small raven he got stick and poked by a friend in high school and more recently a small "TK" on his hip bone (kenshi has a "JC" hidden behind his ear under his hair)

got laser hair removal in his bikini area for movie purposes but also bc he just prefers to be hairless-

he loves shaving his beard though, it's his favorite morning ritual along with the rest of his skincare- also offers to shave kenshi's beard just bc he likes doing it, has an old fashioned razor and solid shaving cream to do it too since he thinks it works better

doesnt really like packing bc he feels like he walks weird and he doesnt love the weight at the front of his pants, but he will sometimes for interviews or when he'll be noticeably flat on camera

some period hcs:

his periods are AWFUL- he has debilitating cramps, gets headaches, gets light sensitivity, and is very easily overstimulated by noise and lights- kenshi is always very helpful and patient with him when he gets snippy but he feels real bad about it afterwards

gets morning sickness sometimes when he wake up too early or eats too early in the morning- kenshi always cuts him fruit around 10 am to keep him hydrated and fed

if he drinks anything cold his cramps will go haywire- he drinks mostly tea when he's on his period since the hot water helps keep his cramps from throwing fits and the tea itself can have other benefits

whoops- this got kind of long, but alsdfkjasdc i love him a lot, and him being trans is so real to me <333

bonus trans kenshi headcanons ;)

got top surgery but his scars are hidden under his tattoos

loves having a beard but hates how itchy it is so he stays pretty stubbly for comfort(even though it also itches) (also hates the act of shaving and is happy to let johnny do it)

packs everywhere- grocery store? packing. starbucks run? packing. morning run? packing- he does not care, he likes running errands with one just bc he feels more comfy that way

kind of misses the feeling in his chest but also is so happy to be free of the weight there and sometimes forgets that he cant feel that well

likes having hair where he can but yearns for chest hair- he just likes the aesthetic look

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 10 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: Depictions of violence, trauma, lots of angst, recovery

A/N: ok this one is a longgggg doozy… gonna apologize in advance cause it is really just all angst lol BUT I'm hoping there's a treat in here that'll make y'all hate me less? lol maybe?? Enjoyyyyy!

It took everything in Charlotte physically and emotionally to drag herself to the theater the next day for opening night. She was physically exhausted, only sleeping in increments of 30 minutes or so before her own screams jolted her awake. Mentally, she was hanging on by a fraying thread. She had not felt this jumpy in so long, every unexpected noise causing her to look over her shoulder every five seconds, even in the comforts of her own home. But nothing was worse than the physical pain she was in. The bruise on her side was far worse without the adrenaline of the night before pumping through her veins. The cry of pain she let out when she first moved that morning sounded more like a dying animal than a person. 

The entire drive she dreaded the facade she’d have to wear all day. She did not know how she did this years ago, mustering up her last kernel of strength to plaster a stupid fake smile on her face. Perhaps because back then, it was a means of survival and this situation was caused by her own hubris. She wanted to fight, she wanted to do this her way, but this path was lonely and more difficult than she thought. And reality was sinking in fast that she was, perhaps, not strong enough to deal with him alone this time.

She did not regret staying, that was the right decision. But she just wished Michael was here. She wanted him here, not to do anything, but just to fold her up in his soft embrace. He was the epitome of safety and she severely underestimated how alone she would feel without him here, even just for a few days. She was balancing on a tightrope and the bungee cord that secured her was nowhere to be found. She already made one wrong move, she could not let herself think what risk another one would bring her. 

Here he is, about to ruin another special moment for you, she thought to herself as her driver weaved in and out of traffic to get her to the theater. 

He doesn’t have to, another voice spoke up louder. 

She thought back to their argument in the hallway the night before. Until she found herself on the floor beneath him, she had been proud of herself. The old her would have never said a fraction of those things to him. But she had squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye, and pushed back. Sure, she could not physically win a fight against him. But last night proved the psychological power he held over was indeed gone. And despite the emotional distress and pain she was in, that small act felt like a win in and of itself. 

That small win was all the strength she needed to push through. Today was her moment, something she’d worked for for years. He could not take this away from her, the bruise he gave her could not take this away from her… not if she didn’t let him. 

“You look like hell. You good?” Malcolm remarked as she dragged her feet past his dressing room.

She glanced back at him and gave him a smile that was more like a pained grimace. “Remember what you told me about fighting? Well, I got knocked down… trying to pick myself back up again.”

He raised his coffee cup as if to salute her. “That’s all you can do.” 

As the day went on and she did interviews with the camera crew recording footage of opening night and they did a final rehearsal of one or two of the numbers, she did find her exhaustion and pain slowly dissipate. She knew it was all in her head, she was still very much both exhausted and in pain, but she just found the strength to ignore it. The stage was her home, her domain, and she felt at her strongest here. It was the flicker of light that she could always cling to when everything else felt dark. And so she held onto it, seized it with every fiber of her being and allowed that to give her whatever she needed to get through the day. 

There was no other option, no other bungee cords to fall back on. It was just her and she had to pull herself, hold herself up, and shine bright even as she wanted to fall. Besides, she had not done all this, the secrets and lying, to let him psych her out so close to game time. She could fall apart when the show was over, but until then, her own strength was all she had. And that’s what she held on to as the day passed and showtime drew closer. 

By the time she slid on her dress, she felt more like herself than she had in the last two weeks. She was ready a bit early so she slipped out and snuck to the stage. As everyone hustled around her to prepare for showtime, she watched through a slip in the curtains. The audience was almost full already. Her eyes followed the front row, recognizing some folks like Malcolm’s wife, Vanessa. She did a double take when she saw who sat next to her. 

“Michael,” his name came out as a breathless sigh of relief. She did not know whether to cry tears of joy or have a panic attack. On the one hand, she could already see her web of secrets untangling right before her eyes. Even if they made it through the night without Michael and Shaun’s paths crossing, the moment they got home, there would be no hiding the angry black and blue bruise that covered her side. And she knew Michael was too smart to believe any lie she could come up with to explain it away. 

However, as she looked at him, her fear of his reaction did not outweigh the joy and relief she felt at seeing him. He came back to see her, to be there for her on the biggest night of her career to date. And even if all her secrets fell apart, she could not feel anything other than gratitude and love for him for sacrificing his plans for her. Every day, he chose her and made her feel loved, supported, and safe. He did not need to say a word to her and his very presence made her stronger. Knowing he was nearby made her feel lighter and more at ease. She was no longer alone and felt as if someone attached more bungee cords to her to steady her. 

She returned to her dressing room and pulled out her phone. She walked around her room, texting him. 

Els: Funny… I don’t remember LA looking quite like where I work? 🤔

She did not have to wait long for the response bubble to emerge and her phone to ding. 

Bakari: How’d you spot me? It was supposed to be a surprise for the end of the show ☹️

Els: I have eyes and ears everywhere 😉 seriously, though something happen in LA? Not that I’m not happy to see you but why’d you come back early? 

Bakari: Something told me I was needed here more. Was I right? 

She nodded as if he could see her. He knew her far too well. She did not even bother lying this time. 

Els: Yea you were. Thank you ♥️♥️

“Maybe I’ll go introduce myself,” a voice whispered behind her, Charlotte’s heart sinking. “I always liked him, great actor.” 

She should have known he would not let the day go by without finding some way to torture her. And she knew him stopping by minutes before show time was not a coincidence. But she refused to let him throw her off her game like he did at rehearsal. 

“Hit me again and I’ll scream bloody murder,” she threatened as she turned around. She could tell he did not believe her but she knew it was effective. This was just as much his job as it was hers. He would not risk someone seeing him hurt her.  

He merely sneered at her and shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. “Nope, just came to wish you luck. And say I’m a bit surprised to see you. It must be hard to dance with that?” He gestured toward her side. 

“I’ve performed through a lot worse, remember?” She reminded him through gritted teeth. “This was always the one thing you couldn’t take.” 

She studied him for a moment as he sucked his teeth in annoyance. She could tell he seemed a bit disappointed and frustrated by that fact, by the knowledge that she was not in bed nursing her side, crying over what he had done. Instead, she was here with a smile on her face, ready to do her job. 

She had always felt like he had taken everything from her, broken her and reduced her to nothing. But this very moment was proof that he hadn’t. Every time she got up and performed with bruises or broken bones or any other injury, she silently told him that this was the one thing he could never have, the one thing she would never yield to him. That she would fight through all the  pain to make it onto that stage night after night, to savor the few minutes every day where she could be the version of herself he tried to destroy. This was that flicker of light and he had always tried to stomp it out. Her brain was immediately filled with recollections of all their worst fights, all of which coincided with important shows or huge moments in her career. And every time, Charlotte never faltered, she never fell down, she never broke. She just bandaged herself up and kept moving. Not even the threat of him looming had driven her away this time. 

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out why you did all this. You want your plaything back, want that control again, sure. But this,” she gestured around them. “Is a fucking insane way to get to me. But now I know why, because this was the one thing you could never take. You took everything from me for years, reduced me to nothing but a shell of a person. N-No light, n-no personality… no agency. Nothing. B-But when I went to work a-and got on stage, even if it was for only two hours a night, I became something again. Was reminded that I was more than the nothing you made me believe I was. And you hated that. This is the last piece. You take this, you destroy my career, and I’d really have nothing.” 

“I already did,” he took a menacing step toward her. Charlotte did not move though, forcing her body to stay rooted like a tree. She did not know where this sudden insurgence of strength came from but she welcomed it. For the first time, she had the upper hand. And she was going to use it. “I already took it once. You don’t think I can do it again? You were nothing back then and you still aren’t. A pretty face, a famous nigga on your arm, a nice voice… None of it changes what both of us know. I’m the only one who can love you like you deserve. I’m the only one who knows the truth about you.” 

And for the first time that he told her that, she thought about all the ways in which Michael and her family proved to her daily that his words were not true. And though she still did not know if she truly deserved someone as perfect as Michael, she knew she deserved so much better than him. 

She sighed, taking a step forward to close the space between them. 

“I lived in absolute terror of you for years. My entire world was dictated by the look on your face. Three years ago, I would’ve believed every word you just said. In some lights, I’m still terrified of you,” she admitted, taking a deep breath. “Last night proved that. But since I left you, I built myself back up brick by brick. I met someone,” she smiled. “Who holds me up when I can’t, someone who rushed back here to protect me when he didn’t even know what I needed protecting from, someone whose very being and presence reminds me every minute of every day that I am something and I deserve so much more than the scraps you gave me. And in that light, you are far less terrifying.” 

He let out a low chuckle, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. His grip was tight and painful but she still did not waver. “You keep forgetting what I’m fuckin’ capable of, Charlotte. Maybe I need to close the door and remind you?” 

The prospect terrified her but she knew his hands were tied. It was just intimidation and she would not fall for it again. 

“The thing is… I haven’t. You’ve shown me the worst you have to offer time and time again and I’ve survived every time. And it’s true. If you want to hurt me, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I know I’m only alive because of God and luck. I can’t win in a fight with you. So take your best shot. But you know what else is true? I’ll still never choose you. No amount of fear or intimidation or pain will make me choose you. It’s him. For the rest of my life, it’ll always be him. And no matter what happens to me, you’ll have to live the rest of your miserable life knowing that.” 

She used all of her force to rip her arm out of his grip, her skin stinging, as she grabbed the sweater that went with her costume and slid it on her arms as she spoke. 

“You are right about one other thing though. I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve this light or the love he gives me. And maybe,” she offered sadly, “Maybe one day, he’ll realize that too and leave me. And maybe I’ll never find anyone to love me like he does ever again. But even then, I’d spend the rest of my days alone before I spend another moment of it with you. So I hope all of this time and energy was worth it. Because I’m done… I’m done giving you a return on this investment. You can’t take this and you can’t take my joy, my body, my relationship, my peace, or anything else from me again. Your time controlling my life is over.” The lights around them started to flash, signaling that everyone needed to get in their places. She took a deep breath and offered him a smile. “That’s my cue. Enjoy the show. I’ve got a good feeling about it.” 

She smiled before walking around him and walking out the door. She could feel his rage wafting off of him but that did not stop her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. She let out a breath she had not even realized she was holding in, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She messaged her arm, another bruise she would have to explain away. But that one had been worth it. To say those things and finally say her piece… the only thing better would’ve been to punch him in the face but she refused to resort to violence as he did. 

“Fuck, that was terrifying,” she mumbled to herself. “But you did it, you did it. Another win for today. Deep breaths,” she instructed herself, her entire body relaxing as she took several calming breaths. “Now let’s go get another one.” 

She steadied herself for a few more minutes before getting in her spot just as the announcer came on to start the show.  

***

She was in the middle of changing when Michael finally made his way backstage to her dressing room. Her after party dress was just passing her hips when she heard her door open. 

She did not even give him a chance to speak, she barely held in the tears that immediately welled up in her eyes as she saw him. She just immediately rushed into his arms, her lips slamming into his. The breath of relief she let escape was muffled as she kissed him. She buried her face in the space between his shoulder and neck as he held her, forcing herself not to flinch as his arm rubbed against her side when he pulled her in for a tight hug. Her breath was shaky as she breathed him in, grateful to be in his arms again. 

“I-It’s so good to see you,” she whispered. “I m-missed you so much.” 

His hand cradled her head into his neck, surprised at her intense reaction. He was concerned when he arrived but the tremble in her voice and body, the way she sagged into him, only increased his concern tenfold. He could tell she was trying to hide whatever it was that was wrong, hold it back. But he could feel it, feel everything that simmered beneath the facade of a performer.

“You were amazing.” His other hand rubbed her back. “But what’s going on, love?” He leaned back to force her to lift her head and look at him. His thumb wiped one of the stray tears from her cheeks, kissing the path it trekked. He did not see a point in prolonging the question. He knew it was a special night but she needed help. What kind? He had no idea. But the version of her that stood in front of him was not her, at least, not a healthy version of her. “You’re not ok.” 

Charlotte sniffled. She could not keep this in any longer. This was just not sustainable. That had been the problem the first time with Shaun, she had dealt with it utterly and completely alone. And here she was, falling back into that same pattern of isolation. No one in her corner, no one to support her or help her. And she could not survive that way. If she was going to stay here, she needed someone’s help. Even if all they did was help pick her up when he mentally knocked her down. And she had robbed Michael of the opportunity to do that, and she knew there would be anger for that. But more importantly, she had tied her one hand behind her back by doing so. She had robbed herself of safety and comfort and it showed in the hell-ish experience of the last two weeks. She had asked Michael to move with her because she needed him. Now, it was time to call that support in.

“No… I’m not. But now that you’re here, I will be.” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “I need to tell you something though… about-”

The last part of her sentence was drowned out by Chris sticking his head in her door. She had not realized that Michael left her dressing room door open and glanced up to find Chris, Malcolm, and a couple other company members standing outside her door. 

“Everyone’s heading over to the lounge. You two ready?” 

“Umm… actually I think we’re gonna head home?”

“Home??” His tone was so filled with offense, you would have thought Charlotte quit the show. “Absolutelyyyyyyy not! The star of the night can’t miss the after party. Trust me, the sex’ll be 10 times better after a few drinks.” Chris, inappropriately so, automatically assuming they just wanted to go home to fuck. “Come on!” 

She sagged deeper into Michael and rolled her eyes. She glanced at him, a silent conversation passing between them. She knew they weren’t going to take no for an answer, everyone was on too much of a high from the night. Her eyes searched for his approval to which he gave her a small nod. 

“Fineeeeee, we’ll come but just for a bit,” she acquiesced, Michael’s arm not leaving her waist.

“Alrighty. You better. I have at least two cocktails with your name on it!” The man disappeared, everyone starting to head over to the party. 

“You sure you’re ok with going?” 

He nodded. “Yea, tonight is still your night and you should enjoy it. As long as you’re up for it. We have plenty of time to talk.” 

She squeezed his hand before following him out to their car. She had no interest in staying at the party too long. She found it hard to relax at first, her eyes constantly darting around the party to see if Shaun was there. But as she and Michael had those two drinks promised by Chris (and then some additional ones), she still did not see Shaun anywhere and loosened up. 

Despite the looming difficult conversation she knew she would have to have with him when they got him, she still managed to have fun. The night moved faster than she expected as she and Michael danced with Malcolm and his wife. Unlike the stuffy cocktail event from the night before, this was a true party, an opportunity to let their hair down and celebrate. 

Charlotte escaped the dance floor to grab another drink, leaving Michael chatting with some of the other actors and their partners. 

A hand touched her arm unexpectedly, Charlotte flinching and a groan escaping her before she could stop herself. She clenched her fist in pain. However, when she turned and realized it was Michael, her heart sank. 

Fuck. 

“You’re hurt?” His hand gently grabbed her arm and lifted it up to examine under the dim lights of the bar. She braced herself, his eyes flashing with rage.

“Who did that to you?” he demanded as he took in the light but distinct bruise disrupting her otherwise flawless skin. He had never seen a bruise or mark on her before. 

“U-Um… no one. I m-must’ve hit it or something,” she lied. She could not even stop herself, it was as thoughtless and second nature as breathing or walking and talking to lie about an injury. She also knew this was not the venue to tell him what really happened. She wanted to tell him everything in the privacy of their own home. 

“You’re lying,” he said immediately, his anger only rising. “Nothing you could’ve done would cause that. Who. Did. That. To. You? Tell me right now, Charlotte.” His voice was low but she heard it. There was no room to lie or hide the truth from him now. He would not accept it. 

“I p-promise I w-will tell you. B-but can y-you just wait till we get home? I d-don’t want to talk about it here. Please,” she begged. 

He studied her, his hand going to her neck to hold her gaze to him. “But you’re ok right now? Whoever did it isn’t here?” he glanced around as if he could spot the person in the moment. 

“N-No, no. I promise. They aren’t here. It’s just a l-long story a-and I'd rather tell you at home. T-that’s all, I promise.” 

He kissed her temple, nodding. “Ok, ok. I’ll call the car.” 

“Thank you. I j-just need to run to the bathroom. 5 minutes?” She could tell he did not want to let her out of his sight but she offered him a reassuring nod. “I promise I’m ok. Just five minutes. I’ll be right back.” 

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, watching as she left. 

Charlotte had to take a couple turns to find the bathroom, finding it empty when she entered. She tossed her clutch and phone on the couch before going into one of the stalls. She took a few deep breaths, already strategizing how she would explain the last two days to Michael. She was almost thankful the tower was crumbling, it was too hard to hold up anyway. But she wasn’t ready for the fall out, not fully anyway. But she knew once she told him, the weight would be off her shoulders and she could breathe easy for a moment. And she welcomed that. She knew honesty after secrets and lies came with a storm but there was always calm after, eventually. 

As she finished up and readjusted her clothing, she heard the door open. However, she did not think much about it until she stepped out to find Shaun standing in the bathroom. 

“W-what are you d-doing in here?” She asked, taking in his staggering posture and eyes. They were red, glazed over with rage. She was not even sure when he arrived at the party. She had not seen him once since she left him in her dressing room. 

“You know I tried. I fuckin’ tried so hard to be reasonable…” he remarked as he reached back to the bathroom door and locked it behind him.

Charlotte let out a shaky breath, all of that confidence from earlier vanished in an instant. No escape and no upper hand this time and she knew, when push came to shove, he would always overpower her. She wondered if anyone would even be able to hear her scream over the loud music. She knew Michael would come looking for her in a few minutes if she did not return or some woman would likely try to come use the bathroom. However, she also knew Shaun did not need long.

“But then… you parade that nigga around in my fuckin’ face?!” He slammed his hand against one of the stall doors, the force causing it to bang against the wall loudly. Charlotte nearly jumped half way out of her skin, taking another step back from him. “‘It’ll always be him,’ he mimicked her speech from earlier. “It’s me… Or it’s no one, Charlie.” His steps were measured and menacing, despite the alcohol that clearly seeped out of every pore of his being, a predator who had finally cornered its prey and was tired of the games. There was nowhere to run or go as Charlotte found herself cornered by the wall. “You choose.” 

Charlotte knew what she should say, lie to get herself out of the situation alive. And if he had asked something else of her, perhaps she would have said anything to appease him. However, she could not force herself to do it, not this time and not about this. She knew in her heart and soul that Michael was it for her. And she would never deny that, no matter the consequences. 

Her heart pounded out of her chest but she forced the words out, “I-It’s… it’s still him, Shaun. M-My h-heart is his, my soul is his. A-and I c-can’t give you what you want. Not anymore. If it’s not him, t-then it’s n-no one.” 

He let out a few deep breaths of shock and staggered back from her for a moment as if she had slapped him. She imagined he did not expect her to answer truthfully but she could not deny Michael. She would never. 

Charlotte started to peel herself off the wall, hoping this was her moment to leave and escape. However, she only made it a step before she felt a sharp sting across her cheek, the force of his slap sending her body crashing into the sink in the bathroom. She grunted as her stomach hit the hard edge of the counter and knocked the wind out of her. She used one hand to brace herself to stop from falling to the ground. The other immediately touched her cheek, pulling her hand back to find blood where his ring had cut into her skin.

“S-Shaun, p-please d-don’t… do this…”

He scoffed and shrugged, his face resigned as if she had given him no choice. “I told you. Me or no one.” He slapped her again, harder, her body falling to the ground as her head hit the cold tiles of the floor. Her vision immediately grew blurry as he appeared over her. Her arms and legs flailed violently as she tried to fight back. 

She could feel every blow, his fists aiming for any part of her body he could reach. Her face, her chest, her stomach. All she could do was scream for help as she futilely tried to fight him off of her. 

His hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as she realized his intentions, her fingers clawing at his skin with all her might to force him to break his grip. However, it was no use. He had strangled her before, which was scary but she always knew he would stop. This, however, was totally different. This time she knew he had no intention of stopping until he felt the life drain from her body. She could see it in his eyes, it was over for her. 

The edges of her vision started to blur. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his weight and hands being ripped off her before everything went black and her last thread to the conscious world snapped. 

***

Michael took a last sip of his drink as Charlotte walked away from him to the bathroom.  Michael sighed as he did a scan of the party, his eyes following on a man in a disheveled suit who appeared at the entrance. Michael stared at him for a moment, something about him gave him pause but he could not place why. He watched as the man did a scan of the room before heading to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He figured he was merely on edge as the sight of Charlotte’s arm came back into his mind. His hands clenched into a fist. 

Another puzzle piece, another thing that did not make sense. Someone had clearly hurt her but he did not understand how or when or who would do that. He had only been gone for two days. Shaun did pop up in his head but he dismissed that quickly. When would the man even have shown up without Michael knowing? Michael was pretty much with her anytime she was not at the theater since they moved.

He continued to people watch for a few minutes, his eyes glancing in the direction of the bathroom every few seconds as he waited. His phone dinged with a message from Rob letting him know he was waiting downstairs. Michael glanced at his watch, realizing more than five minutes had passed since Charlotte went to the bathroom. He searched the crowd for her. He happened to run into Malcolm and his wife during his search.

“Aye,” Michael grabbed their attention. “Have you seen Charlotte?” 

“Nope, not since she went to get a drink. Why?” 

“Y-Yea. She said she was going to the bathroom but it’s been a minute. And she didn’t answer her phone. Figured she maybe passed by me or thought I was gonna meet her outside or something.” 

“I was about to head to the bathroom before we headed out too. I’ll walk with you. I’m sure she’s fine.” 

Malcolm and Michael walked the maze of hallways to the bathrooms, Michael stopping as they turned the last corner and another sound filled his ears, battling against the thundering bass of the music from the party. 

“You hear that?” 

“Yea. Sounds like someone screaming?” 

Michael rushed up to the ladies’ bathroom door, getting close enough to hear the screams behind it. He only needed to hear one to recognize the voice. Charlotte. It was as if someone had replaced the blood in his veins with ice water. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his days, he was sure of it. 

He immediately went to open the door, finding it locked. However, he did not give that a second thought as he told Malcolm to call the police and ram his entire body into the door. It took two tries before it yielded to his force and weight. 

Michael did not need an introduction or explanation as he took in the scene in front of him. He had never seen a picture of Shaun in his life but instinctively, he knew who he was. Charlotte’s brief descriptions of him, her actions for the last two weeks, her nightmares, her injury, all those puzzle pieces seemed to fit instantly and paint quite a clear picture. 

Michael immediately grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him off his girlfriend.  He got a quick glimpse of Charlotte’s bloodied and bruised form, her eyes half closed, as he pulled the man away from her. He threw him down to the floor and kicked him in the chest, a satisfying crack filling the quiet bathroom. And he did not stop at one. 

Shaun barely had time to think or defend himself as Michael channeled a year’s worth of boxing training into beating the life out of him. This man who had terrorized the love of his life for years, this man who had been the source of so much strife and pain in her life, this man who had been the reason for the rage filling Michael’s body. All he saw was Charlotte’s broken body and he lost all sense of himself. 

He was thankful the loud music of the party drowned out Shaun’s screams. Every punch he rained down on him felt cathartic. Every scream and yell felt like music to his ears. Though he typically believed violence could be avoided, in this case, his soul needed this more than anything. This was the only answer. Michael had never felt the desire to feel someone’s life leave their body but he felt it in that moment, strongly, fervently. And he knew, if it came to that, he would not feel an ounce of guilt about it. This man did not deserve to be among the living, not with all he had done. 

He thought about every time Charlotte screamed or whimpered in her sleep; every time her big brown eyes filled with terror and panic as something triggered her; every time she thought of herself as broken, unworthy, and unlovable - these things that were the farthest from the truth but he made her believe; every scar littering her perfect form that she looked at with disgust. He thought about it all and every time his fist connected with Shaun’s skin, he felt a bit of that rage he had bottled up since he learned about Shaun release. It felt good to finally do something with it. No longer did he have to punch the punching bag in his gym pretending it was this man’s face. The object of his rage was right there and he did his worst.  

Michael only stopped when a force pulled his arm back, his savage beating cut short by Malcolm.

“It’s over, it’s over.” He whispered, holding Michael’s raised arm back. “I think Shaun understands your point. The police are coming. Charlotte needs an ambulance, now.” 

Michael stopped, his hand still holding Shaun up by his collar, and glanced at Charlotte who was unconscious and propped up against the bathroom wall. He almost wanted to throw up at the blood that smudged the floor by her body. 

“She’s alive,” Malcolm assured him as he took in the look on Michael’s face, Michael knew it must have looked lethal. “She hit her head but she’s alright. But she needs you right now and you can’t be there if you get arrested for killing him.” 

He nodded and pulled his arm out of Malcolm’s grip. He stood and pulled the man to his feet. He was not even recognizable now, covered in blood. Michael could tell his nose was broken, a few teeth had been knocked out, and he was not even sure if the man could still see with both of eyes nearly swollen shut. And despite this damage and the pleasure he felt administering it, it still - somehow - did not feel like enough. The man was still conscious and still breathing and that did not feel fair. 

“I’m only gonna tell you this fuckin’ once.” Michael’s voice was low and lethal, he did not even know his voice could sound so terrifying. He did not know who this person was, this dangerous version of him he’d never needed to pull out before. “Stay. The Fuck. Away. From. Her. If I ever see you again or you ever lay a finger on her again, I swear on everything I love, I will fuckin’ kill you. I’ll make what just happened look like a scratch. And I’ll end your pathetic life. We clear?” At his silence, Michael scoffed before throwing two back to back jabs into Shaun’s ribs, the sound of more bones cracking filling the air along with a pathetic, girlish scream. “I said, are we fuckin’ clear??”  

“W-we’re c…c-clear,” Shaun forced out, the words barely audible as Michael’s arm pinned him to the wall by his neck, crushing his windpipe, was the only thing keeping him from doubling over in pain.

“Good.”

Michael removed his arm, the man unceremoniously crumpling to the ground with a groan. He could not help it but he kicked the man once last time for good measure as he shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were caked with blood and ached but it did not matter as he rushed over to Charlotte.

He pulled her body into his arms, propping her up against his legs. His breaths were shallow and rushed as he pressed his fingers against her neck. He knew Malcolm said she was alive but it was as if he needed to prove it to himself, assure himself. He let out a strangled sigh at the pulse he felt pumping against his fingers, strong and distinct. 

She’s ok, she’s ok. Just knocked out. 

“I’m here, baby. I’m here. I gotchu. You’re safe, you’re safe.” he whispered as two EMTs rushed into the bathroom. Michael did not notice the small crowd that followed them, Malcolm going over to Chris who was standing at the front, his face the picture of shock and confusion. 

Michael felt as if he was just going through the motions as he rode with Charlotte in the ambulance. He merely just repeated that same refrain over and over again, holding her hand as the EMTs worked around him. They assured him none of her injuries were life threatening or severe. She took a beating but she’d be fine once they treated the head injury.  

They forced him to wait in the waiting room while they rushed her to the hospital, Michael calling all of her family and his to tell them what was going on. He knew this would likely make it onto the news somewhere and did not want anyone to find out about it. Her father, who lived in Baltimore, and oldest brother, who lived in DC, promised to drive up first thing in the morning, Lauren, Jackson, and Jazz were planning to be on the first flight out of LA, and her eldest sister would be on a flight from Atlanta. 

He cycled through pacing and texting her family until a nurse came to get him. He was thankful, the two hours he waited seemed to move by in slow motion. 

Michael absentmindedly scratched the nape of his neck as he rushed behind the polite nurse, his ears barely registering her preppy and annoying voice. Her words were nonsensical until he saw Charlotte. He barely registered them once he realized she had little information to offer him. He knew nothing she could have said would satisfy him anyway until he saw her for himself, saw the warmth in her skin, felt the blood pumping through her veins, saw her injuries without blood caked in them, making them look far worse to his eye. He had not seen her in hours and he did not want second hand accounts that she was ok, he wanted to see her for himself.

The cycle of torture he had been on for the last few hours finally ended in front of her closed door. He took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer before walking into the room to find Charlotte, his sweet honey bee alive and conscious. He studied the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand fidgeted with the fraying edge of her blanket. He let out a strangled breath he did not realize he was holding in. He felt as if he was breathing for the first time in hours, a weight lifted off of his heart and body. The room was completely silent aside from the beeping of machines surrounding her, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the skyline out of her window. 

He examined the injuries he could see: the bandage on her forehead, the bruises already blooming on her face and neck. He imagined more had to litter the rest of her body, the areas hidden beneath blankets and a hospital gown.  

“H-Honeybee…” his voice came out as a strangled whisper, his pain and fear flowing from his words like blood from an open wound. Her eyes clenched shut as she heard his voice, and heard the emotions laced throughout it. 

At her silence, his hand wrapped around hers as he sat in the chair by her bed. He did not bother stopping the tears that slowly trekked down his face as he gently stroked her forehead. 

“Baby…” 

“I-I’m ok… r-really, Bakari,” she croaked out, her voice sounding small and broken. She avoided his eyes but he could see the clouds of guilt, shame, and embarrassment that filled hers. He knew she likely hated that he saw her like this. But it did not matter to him. He was just happy she was alright. “I-I’m o-ok.” 

“No, you aren’t. Els... baby. Look at me, please," he whispered, noting the small shake of her head as she bit her lip. He could hear her silent pleas to not push. However, he needed to see her, truly see her.

“Charlotte.” His rare use of her full name did the trick, the young woman turning her head toward him.

Her eyes still did not fully meet his, but he decided it was a start. His thumb stroked her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the soothing gesture. Her head lulled to the side and rested in his palm. He did not say a word, he just offered her what he could tell she needed. His presence and his gentle touch that always soothed the troubled waters of her soul. However, so much of her face was bruised that it did not take long for him to graze a tender spot and cause her to wince. 

“I-I a-a-m so-so sorr-sorry…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I f-…” she started to hyperventilate, her hand going to her chest as she felt the shooting pain of her sharp breaths radiating against her fractured ribs. “I-I t-tried to fight… I-I s-should’ve t-told…”  

Her words became incoherent as she tried to talk through a panic attack. Michael immediately moved to the edge of the bed, hoping he could calm her down. 

“Hey… hey, shhh… baby, take a deep breath for me. It’s ok, Els. You ain’t got nothing to apologize for, I promise.” 

His voice was low and soothing as he tried to get her to calm down. He took a few deep breaths, encouraging her to mimic the action to slow her own breathing. “There we go… That’s good, baby. Relax, it’s ok. You’re with me and you’re safe now.” 

He watched her eyes fall down to his hands, which a nurse cleaned up and bandaged for him. She sniffed. 

“You saved me?” She asked quietly. 

“Yea… I c-came for you.” 

She wiped the tears from her eyes, refusing to let them fall. She winced slightly as she hit a bruised area. “You always do. Thank you.”  

“Always,” he whispered, his hand wiping his own tears that started to fall. He knew he could be vulnerable but part of him battled to be stronger, despite how upset and scared  he was. Right now she needed to be the vulnerable one, which meant he had to be the rock. 

“I-I s-suppose y-you wanna know w-what happened?” she asked quietly, knowing he likely still did not know how they ended up in this situation in the first place. 

“Yea but… that conversation can wait till we get home. All that matters right now is that you’re ok.” 

She did not argue with him on that point. Charlotte’s head pounded as she laid in the bed, Michael sitting quietly next to her. Neither of them said much, she just closed her eyes and focused on his touch, his hands, strong and comforting against her skin. But cautious, she could feel that caution with every caress and stroke. She thought she had lost this forever, that she would never feel the heat of his loving touch on her skin again. 

A knock at the door tore their moment of solitude away from them, both of their eyes moving to find two men in dark suits standing in the doorway. They flashed their badges identifying themselves as NYPD. The back of Charlotte’s hand hastily whisked away her tears before forcing herself up into a seated position. She forced a smile on her face but she knew with the cuts and bruises, it likely did not look like one.

“Good evening. We are sorry to interrupt. I am Detective Simpson and this is Detective Zidan. Ms. Bennett, we are so sorry for the ordeal you have suffered tonight. The doctors told us you were conscious. Would you be up for talking about what happened?” 

She nodded, gesturing for the two men to come farther in. “Y-You can just call me Charlotte. And yea… Um… we were at the Purple Cat lounge, c-celebrating the opening night of our broadway s-show.” 

“The Lighthouse?” Detective Simpson interjected. “My wife’s a big Broadway fan… we saw it last week in previews,” he clarified. “You were phenomenal.” 

“T-thank you,” she whispered. However, even that compliment could not lift her spirits right now. “Umm, we had a few drinks… two or three I guess? But I w-was tired a-and M-Michael realized I was injured so w-we decided to go home. I went to the bathroom a-and when I came out of the stall, Shaun was there. H-he locked the bathroom door and knocked me down… hit me. A-and then he started choking me.” 

“Did he try anything else?” His words were vague but Charlotte and Michael understood the implication. She felt Michael stiffen beside her. 

“No, no. He didn’t do anything like that.”

“And what is your relationship with Shaun Parker, the assailant?” 

“We dated for about three years a few years ago? He was abusive. I-I had a restraining order against him when I lived here back then. F-filed a police report a couple times then dropped them.” 

“That’s great, very helpful thank you. That’ll establish a history of violence, pattern of behavior. How’d he know about the show? Have you had contact with him since you broke up? Any idea how he might’ve gotten access to the event you all were at?” 

Charlotte clenched her eyes shut. And here goes that wrecking ball, she thought to herself. She prepared her mind and heart for the inferno of rage Michael was about to experience, this time directed at her. 

“H-He showed up at o-our last rehearsal b-before previews two weeks ago. H-he’s a-and investment banker or manager and w-was working with one of the producers.”  

Michael’s head whipped around in her direction, shocked that her answer was not a simple no. 

“What the fuck?? He’s been around for two weeks??” He approached the bed, his brow furrowed and his heart rate increasing as his frustration skyrocketed. He was seething.

Charlotte’s hands twisted in her lap as she felt his anger waft toward her. 

“I… I-It was fine at first, he didn’t really say anything o-or bother me. But l-last night, one of the investors hosted a cocktail event for us a-and he approached me… and punched me,” her voice got really small as she said that part, Michael stepping away as his rage grew to unprecedented levels. “A-and then today b-before the show, he c-came by my d-dressing room to taunt me. A-and grabbed my arm, l-left a bruise. I t-told him that I’d n-never be with him a-again.” 

Michael ran his hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I didn’t want you to worry!”  

He threw his hands up in the air, his exasperation obvious to everyone in the room. “I don’t believe this shit,” he muttered under his breath before turning back to her. “You’re in a fuckin hospital bed, Charlotte. There was clearly a reason to worry! A-and you let me go all the way to fuckin’ LA where I couldn’t do shit to help you??”  

“Michael, I-I’m s-sorry, I j-” 

“Charlotte, Mr. Jordan, please,” the detective interjected. “Let’s all just calm down for a second. We don’t want to take up too much of either of your time. We know this is difficult to hear and a lot to process. Mr. Jordan, can you tell us what happened when you arrived in the bathroom?” 

Michael turned away from Charlotte. His mind was on information overload, his anger pulled him in 30 different directions. But he knew the detectives were right, now was not the time. And putting this man behind bars was more important than his anger. 

“It had been a few minutes and she didn’t come back, I went to the bathroom and heard her screaming. I forced the door open a-and saw him choking her. I-I pulled him off a-” Michael stopped speaking, the anger of that moment flooding back. 

“Yea we saw Mr. Parker’s injuries. We can piece together the rest. Well, that’s all we need for now. Your accounts align with Malcolm Roberts’, the witness, and the scene so we are good for the evening. We’ll leave you two to get some rest.” He fished his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Michael. “If you think of anything else once you’ve gotten some rest, give us a call.”  

Michael stopped the men. “And what about me?” While Michael did what he did to protect Charlotte, and did not regret it, he knew his beating of Shaun would be considered overkill by anyone with eyes. 

The detective shrugged. “From my assessment of Mr. Parker’s injuries, you used necessary force to subdue him. And that’s what I plan to write in our report.” 

At the raised eyebrow Michael gave him, the other detective merely winked at him. “I’m a husband… If I’d walked in on what you did… let’s just say he’s lucky he got off the floor at all. Even if he wants to press charges, given the circumstances and well, your status, the DA will likely decline to move forward and we would back that up. We aren’t here to ream you up, Mr. Jordan. You will have to pay for the damages to the door at the club but that’s it.” 

Michael felt relief wash over him. 

“We’ll be in touch,” the detective said before turning to leave. However, he turned back and said, “Loved you both in Creed. Take care of yourselves.” 

Michael pocketed the man’s card and watched as they left before turning his attention back to Charlotte. 

They sat in silence for a while, Michael’s hand rubbing her arm to comfort her. She could still feel it, his anger, but he controlled it, kept it to himself. They were both two powder kegs ready to explode. Both of them were using materials as flimsy as scotch tape to hold back the avalanche of emotions that threatened to consume them. 

It took a few more hours of poking and prodding before the doctors told her she could go home. She was thankful, just wanting to sleep in her own bed in Michael’s… if he was not too angry at her to deny her that. 

She pushed herself out of bed, Michael handing her the clothes Malcolm had picked up and brought over for them. She started to lift the nightgown over her head but groaned lightly at the stretch needed to do so. She let it fall back down over her legs. 

“Let me help.” 

She bit her lip, fiddling with the gown for a moment as her eyes bounced between him and her body, before shaking her head.  “Umm no, no… I got it.” 

“Why won’t you let me help you?”  

“Because I don’t need it. I got it.” 

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her. “You really think now is the best time to lie to me again, Charlotte?” 

She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment before sighing. “I j-just don’t want you to see t-the bruises… I k-know you’re mad at me. I-I don’t want to m-make it worse. A-and I don’t want them to change h-how you see me… feel about me.”

Michael’s feet came into her line of vision before he lifted her head and kissed her forehead. 

"Look at me," he quietly demanded. He rarely demanded but she heard it in his voice, it was not a request she could refuse. His hands held her face, holding her gaze to his once she looked up at him. “There is nothing in this world that’ll ever stop me from wanting you, aight? These bruises are just a reminder that you survived and that’s all that matters to me. And it doesn’t matter how mad I am, I’ll never deny you what you need. And right now, you need help. So let me help you.”

It took another moment or two of coaxing but ultimately, she relented. He kissed her cheek before his hands pulled her gown over her head, the young woman wincing at the stretch in her side. Michael’s eyes trailed up her body, happy to see most of it looked fine. Her upper half though, her chest, her stomach, her neck and her face were covered in bruises that made his hand clench into a fist. 

His eyes focused on the bigger one on her side, one that clearly had been there longer than the others. 

“That’s where he…” he could not even say the words. At her small nod, he took a step back from her and turned away from her. His breaths were shallow and pained.

“It’s not as bad as it looks… I’ve had worse.” 

He shook his head, the scotch tape simply could not hold his rage back any longer. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“M-Michael… I’m s-sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.” 

“I’m upset because this,” he gestured at her bruise, “is upsetting. This nigga was terrorizing you, Els. And hurting you while you let me fly across the county to sit in bullshit ass meetings when you knew you needed me here.”

“I thought I had it handled!” 

“Oh so what? You’re fuckin’ Olivia Pope or some shit?” 

“Not funny, Michael.” 

“I aint fuckin’ laughin’ Charlotte. If this was handled, I would not be looking at your body covered in bruises and we wouldn’t be in a hospital. He could’ve killed you. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he would have killed you. I mean… what were you thinking??” 

“I-I s-should’ve told you,” she admitted. She knew there was no excuse for lying as she had and she would not waste his time trying to come up with one. “I-I just didn’t t-think you’d understand.” 

He shook his head, a strangled sigh of frustration escaping him. “Well you’re right. I don’t understand why my girlfriend, the love of my life, the woman I want to marry and build a life with, lied to me and hid something so dangerous and life threatening for weeks. You let me move all the way here to protect you, and when you needed it most, you didn’t trust me to do it. I don’t understand why you didn’t trust me.” 

All she heard in his voice was his pain. Beneath his righteous anger, she understood where it stemmed from, a well of hurt and disappointment that she did not trust him with this problem. 

“M-Michael,” she approached him. “I t-trust y-you with my life. I-it wasn’t a question or lack o-of trust. I w-wanted to tell you so b-bad. T-that night when you helped t-through that nightmare, when you called me the other night from LA…in my dressing room earlier. I wanted to tell you.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

She sighed, she turned back to the bed and sat down. Her physical body was barely standing, barely holding on. 

“I dunno… I t-thought I needed to d-do it alone. It’s a-always been me d-dealing with him… I g-guess it’s just a-all I know. A-and I-I was t-tired of losing… tired o-of him t-taking everything… tired of r-running,” she admitted. “A-and I was afraid, afraid you a-and my family w-wouldn’t understand why I would w-want to stay once I knew he w-was around. A-and I was afraid you’d try to stop me. A-and worst of all, I w-was afraid if you gave me an out, I’d be a coward and take it a-and then he w-would’ve taken something else from me. So I l-lied. I lied and kept it from you b-because I knew it would force me to handle it on m-my own a-and it almost killed me. Literally a-and figuratively. B-Because I did… need you.” She let out a small sob. “I needed you so bad. J-just to be there. A-and I deprived myself o-of that and I deprived you of the chance to help me a-and I am s-so so sorry.” 

Michael unfolded his arms as he listened to her. He could hear it, her regret and the sincerity of her apology. He was still angry but the roaring rapids of anger were now more like a quiet stream. Far easier to manage and put in perspective. He understood that her scars with Shaun went deeper than he could possibly understand. It was not shocking that she had defaulted to these choices. Michael sat next to her on the bed, his hand resting on her thigh. 

“I know, I know. But listen to me, Charlotte.” She lifted her eyes to look at him, surprised to find the anger gone and nothing but grace and compassion remaining. “You never have to deal with anything alone again. I’m here and whether I agree with your decisions or not, I’ll always support you and help you. I promise you that. But you gotta come to me from now on, Charlotte. This? The lying, the secrets, putting your life in danger. You can never do this again. When I saw you, I thought you were…” he stopped himself and let out a shaky breath. “You can’t scare me like this ever again. Do you understand me?” 

“Never. I promise. I’m so so sorry, baby.”

He nodded. “I know you are. It’s ok. Let’s get you home and in bed, aight?” Michael still felt guilty, ashamed that he was across the country instead of protecting her. He had known something was off and still left and that would haunt him for a while. But holding her choice against her because he felt ashamed would not help either of them. He trusted that she understood him and would come to him if she ever needed help again and that would have to be enough.  

***

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte’s dad asked as they settled around the living room. 

Charlotte was tucked into Michael’s side as she talked with her family. She had not really left his side since they left the hospital that morning. And he kept his hands somewhere on her the entire time. She knew they were both clinging to each other, unsurprising given what all had transpired. 

She was not surprised but still slightly put out to find her entire family waiting in their apartment when they finally got home. She had not slept well in weeks and had not gotten more than an hour or two in the last 48 hours. She just wanted to curl up into Michael’s chest and sleep for days. Instead, she was on hour four of her family fawning over her. It was sweet and she understood why but she had never been less excited to see them in her life. Emotionally, she was barely holding it together and she was ready to fall but instead she was forced to hold on a bit longer, remaining upbeat so her family knew she was alright. 

“I’m in some pain b-but none of it is super bad. Doc said I c-could be back on stage in a week as long as this heals alright,” she answered, pointing to the bandage on her head. Her voice signaled her hopefulness that that would be the case. 

“That fast?” Tiffany, her eldest sister, asked from the kitchen. 

Charlotte nodded. “Yea, I was kind of surprised too. But Chris canceled a couple shows, just till Tuesday so I won’t even miss a full week. The optics of his lead almost dying at the after party weren’t the best,” she admitted. She glanced up at Michael. “Can you make sure we send him some flowers and a bottle of wine? There’s a Merlot he loves that I can try to find. As an apology. I know that’s not how he saw his opening night going either.” 

“Whatever you want, babe.” 

Charlotte smiled, trying to keep the mood positive as everyone’s faces still looked grim every time they looked at her. “Well in a sort of silver lining from last night, the show went really well? Reviews came out a-and Michael read them on the way home. They are so amazing. I can’t wait for y’all to come back so you can see it.”

“Oh that’s great!” Allen offered. 

“As if there was even a doubt about -” CJ started to say before Jackson cut him off.  

“Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” Jackson blurted out, his anger getting the better of him. Charlotte could tell he was more upset than the rest of her family as he had been virtually silent since they arrived. But she knew why. “Are we really gonna talk about that damn musical like she didn’t fuckin’ almost die to be in it?” 

“Baby…” Lauren chastised him. She offered Charlotte and Michael an apologetic glance that told them she tried to head off this outburst before they arrived. “We said we were gonna talk about this later.” 

“Nah, fuck that!” Jackson stood up and all the anger in him seemed to explode. “What the hell is wrong with you?? How could you be so reckless? So fuckin’ stupid to let him do this shit to you again?? What the fuck, Charlie?”

Charlotte knew her brother did not mean his words, knew he was just angry. However, in such a fragile state, she could not help the way her body folded into Michael’s at Jackson’s tone and his words. She knew she deserved it. She had kept secrets and lied to her family as much as she did Michael. She knew what she put them through was wrong. 

Michael immediately stood up in front of her, using his body as a protective shield from her brother’s harsh tone. He understood Jackson’s anger, he really did. But he had made peace with Charlotte’s choices and accepted her apology. And hours removed from the shock of everything, he regretted piling onto her pain in the hospital by blowing up at her. It was the wrong time to have that conversation. And so was this. He refused to allow anyone else to do it either. She had been knocked down enough in the last 24 hours, the last thing she needed was to get it from the people she loved too. 

“Aight brah. Cool it. She knows she messed up but regardless, what happened last night wasn’t her fault. You need to take a breath and calm down.”

“Like hell it isn’t. She knew what he was capable of! And no disrespect but I’m tryin’ to have a conversation with my sister. In case you forgot, I’m the one that pieced her back together after that nigga fucked her up the first time. Meanwhile, she wouldn’t even look like that if you had been here protecting her instead of out in fuckin’ LA.” 

“Aww shit,” Jazz muttered as Michael took a menacing step toward Jackson, his words clearly striking a sore spot. 

There was barely any space for God between the two men as they stood off, Michael ready to throw hands with anyone who stepped at Charlotte the wrong way, present company included. The other men in the room rose from their seats as well, the tension between the two men palpable. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re tryna do. I’m the one takin’ care of her now. And I’m tellin’ you to back the fuck up and calm the fuck down. Take another step toward her or raise your voice at her in my house again and I won’t be tellin’ you shit.” 

“Alright, enough, enough.” Charlotte called out. She grunted in pain as she pushed herself up from the couch and made her way through the sea of testosterone to her brother and boyfriend. “Let’s all just calm down and sit down. N-No one, least of all me, has the energy to hear either of you argue about who’s more protective.” She placed a gentle hand on Michael’s chest to nonverbally let him know she was fine. He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. However, when Charlotte stepped in front of him, his hand still went to rest on her hip as if he would need to move her behind him again. He was on edge, everyone understood it. 

She turned and faced her brother. “You’re right. What I did was reckless and it was dumb. But I know you, Jackson. Look me in my eyes and tell me if you knew what was going on, you wouldn’t have flown here and made it your mission to drag me back to LA with you?” 

Jackson scoffed. “Of course I fuckin’ would’ve. Because I’m the one that nursed you back to health when you left him, the one who woke up to you screaming night after night for months. Every good day, every bad day, every horrible day. I was there. I saw what he did to you, how he destroyed you. And I never wanted to see you go through that again. But I can’t believe I would’ve even had to convince you. The fact that you weren’t on the first flight home after you saw him is fuckin’ insane, Charlie. It makes me question your judgment entirely.” 

“I know I wouldn’t be standing here without you, Jackson. Y-You and Lauren saved my life. A-and I am sorry for the lying and the secrets. Truly. I-If I could go back and do it differently, I w-would have told all of you. But even though I regret that, I still would’ve stayed here and done this show even if I knew this would be the outcome.” At her family’s shocked expression, she sighed. “Question my judgement, call me stupid, I don’t care. You helped me heal but I put myself back together piece by piece and I didn’t do that to live in fear of him for the rest of my life. I did it so I could live the life I want. So I could build the life I want, so I could be free. And I don’t regret staying here to fight for that life. I almost died and it was terrifying for me a-and I can only imagine how it felt for you all for the second time. And I’m truly sorry for that. But it was my choice. And I’m not gonna apologize for fighting for what I want, for what my soul needs. You don’t have to like that decision but you do have to respect it.” 

“Jackson… she’s right,” her dad, Christian Sr, interjected. “Charlie has always been smart and driven. I wish there’d been another way but I understand. I’m just glad you’re ok, squirt.” Her dad wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“Same, sis. But can this be the last time you almost die on us, please? It’s getting kinda old,” Tiffany joked under her breath, CJ hitting her on the arm. 

Charlotte let out a belly laugh that made her ribs ache. “Y-Yea, I can do that. I’m down to 6 or 7 lives now anyway. I should preserve them. I’m sorry for scaring everyone. Seriously.” She glanced at her brother who had now gone silent. “Can you forgive me, J? Please?” 

He pulled her into a hug, his lips pressed into the top of her head. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Charlie,” he warned. 

“I promise.” 

“Ok, let’s all go check into our hotels and give Michael and Charlie some time alone. She needs rest. We can come back tomorrow,” Lauren remarked, shoo-ing everyone toward the door. 

Charlotte mouthed thank you to her before wrapping her in a hug. If there was one person who was always a ride or die for her, it was Lauren. She never failed. Michael immediately led Charlotte into their room as soon as everyone filed out and started to help her get ready to finally rest. 

“I-I think I want to shower first?” 

“Whatever you want, baby. Need help?” 

She shook her head. She had not been able to detach herself from Michael since they got home. But she realized after her family’s visit that she needed at least a moment of solitude, a few moments to process the last 48 hours alone. “No, I don’t think so. But I’ll leave the door open just in case.”  

Michael settled into bed himself, grabbing his phone to check his email and text messages. It took him a while to make his way through all of them. He had ignored nearly every notification in his phone since he got back from LA. He clicked on one, a link to CNN from Steelo.

He wondered if he should even press play on the video but he decided to. 

“And now, breaking news from Broadway. Last night, after the opening night performance of The Lighthouse, the musical’s star, Charlotte Bennett was attacked at the show’s afterparty at a nightclub in the Upper West Side. Bennett, a rising star most known for her role in the recent blockbuster hit Creed, recently returned to Broadway after a two year absence. The assailant, Shaun Parker of New York, was apprehended and is in police custody. NYPD held a press conference late this morning where they announced the state would be pursuing assault and attempted murder charges against the 30 year old investment banker. NYPD also shared that Bennett’s boyfriend, actor and star Michael B. Jordan, also from Creed, was also involved in the altercation, restraining Parker until police arrived.” 

“NYPD found that there was a history of domestic violence between Parker and Bennett, Bennett having filed a restraining order and several police reports during their relationship. Lead detectives are still determining Parker’s motivation for attacking Bennett but evidence suggests it was in retaliation for rejecting his advances. Parker’s lawyers were not available for comment.” 

“Guess that cat’s out of the bag,” he heard Charlotte mumble. Her body was wrapped in a towel, leaning against the door. He had been so wrapped up in the story that he had not even seen her exit the shower. He quickly closed the link and threw his phone down on the bed. She looked better to him, the light and life returning to her skin. She still looked dead on her feet but he knew only time in bed would fix that. He watched as she chewed on the side of her lip. 

“I guess… I knew it’d make the news a-and people would find out. Now everyone’s gonna know how dumb I was, every stupid mistake I made.” 

“Or… everyone’s gonna know you survived something awful and applaud you for it,” Michael offered as he grabbed clothes for her to change into and handed them to her. 

She used his arms for balance as she stepped into a pair of his Calvin Klein briefs and he helped her pull the sweater over her body. She tried to control the grimaces and small expressions of pain but it proved difficult.

“Somehow I doubt that,” she whispered as he helped her get situated in bed. She let out a deep content sigh of relief at finally being able to relax. She looked at him for a moment and pulled on his arm to bring him close to her. “Thank you for taking care of me and for saving my life… a-and loving me.” 

He shook his head. “You don’t ever have to thank me for any of that.” He pecked her on the lips. 

However, as he leaned back, her hands cupped his face to stop him. Her thumb rubbed the stumble of his beard as she studied him. After a moment or two, she kissed him again and this time, they did not stop. Michael could feel it, all the pain she felt, her desperation and need as she clung to his body as if he would disappear if she let him go. However, when her hands naturally drifted to the waistband of his sweats to take it to the next level, he wrapped his hands around them to stop her. As much as his body responded to hers, he knew he could not allow this moment to go too far. 

His hesitation had nothing to do with a lack of desire, his straining manhood was the proof of that. However, given how Shaun treated her during sex, Michael took great care in how he did. He vowed to ensure she never felt like she was merely a plaything or a warm body for his use. And while, after the day they had and almost losing her, he would love to bury himself inside her, he knew he could not do it even if she wanted it. Even if she chose to ignore it, Michael knew she was merely minutes away from falling apart and this would not help her hold it together.  

However, the pained and disappointed look in her eyes almost made him question that resolve. And it broke his heart. 

“W-what’s wrong?” 

“You were almost murdered less than 24 hours ago. You’re injured and in pain. I can’t fuck you like that didn’t happen. I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

“But I wasn’t. And I appreciate you being a gentleman but I’m fine, I promise.” She captured his lips again.

“I-It’s not about being a gentleman. It’s about knowing you and what you need and this ain’t it.” 

“ I need you,” she whispered back, her forehead resting against his. “Bakari, please. Don’t make me beg you. Please.” She tried to stop her voice from breaking, she knew that would not help convince him she was ok enough to do this. But she could not describe how desperate she was to feel something other than her current pain. 

And now, his refusal only made her feel worse. This was utterly foreign to her. There had never been a time where Michael denied her or pumped the brakes. She had not even considered this outcome, figuring he would be ready to go if she was. But she supposed she could not blame him. Her bruised body was far from attractive. 

He’s angry and disgusted by you, a voice in her head rang out loudly.

His eyes clenched shut as he struggled to stay steadfast in his convictions. But the need in her voice tested every fiber of his being. That voice, so vulnerable, so clearly desperate for him, made him want to relent. But he couldn’t.

“The last 48 hours have been hell. I see it in your eyes, you’re barely… you’re barely holding it together, love. You need rest and maybe you need me but I don’t think sex is what either of us need right now. And… whether you realize it or not, I imagine the things he did to you, however long ago, are gonna come back up. I don’t want to trigger any…” his words failed as she tore herself from his arms and turned on her side to face away from him in frustration.

“I-I k-knew this would happen,” she whispered to herself. “The bruises… s-seeing what he did. I d-disgust you.” 

“That’s not it! Look at me. You have never and will never disgust me. I don’t even want to hear you say that shit. I always want you. But your physical and mental health is more important to me than anything else and that means we can’t do this.” 

“I just want…” she whispered, unable to put her desires into words. It was not even a physical desire she craved. She just wanted to keep moving. She just knew if she laid here and sat in the stillness with him, the dam would break and she would fall apart. And she just was not ready to feel the extent of all of this yet. And she hated that Michael knew that, picked up on that so quickly. “I’m fine, Bakari.” 

“I think you just want to feel something else… I think if we do this, it’ll make you feel like you’re fine when you aren’t. I know it’s hard for you to be vulnerable. But you got me, I’m here and you can fall apart, scream, cry… whatever. You can be not fine. You got me and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Her eyes went to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. “I am fine, Bakari.” She let out a groan of frustration at his silence, knowing he did not believe her. She could not tell who she was trying to convince more. Him or herself. “I’m fine.” 

His hand wiped a tear that fell from her eyes as she stammered. “I promise you… I’m fine. I’m… fine,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it all, the simple words being much more difficult to say. “I’m… f-” the words died in her throat as she started to sob.

“Come here.” He enveloped her in his arms as she broke down into tears, her sobs filling their bedroom. “You’re gonna be ok, Els. I promise. I gotchu and you’re safe. I promise.” 

He moved onto the bed to better cradle her into his side, her face buried in his chest. They stayed like that all night, until she cried herself asleep, finally releasing weeks of pent up pain and fear. Michael watched her for most of the night, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest next to him. Every so often, she woke up whimpering softly, nightmares plaguing her sleep. And he would just hold her again and whisper the same refrain in her ears until she calmed down again. She was safe and he'd never let her feel this pain again. And he would make it his life’s mission to ensure he kept that promise.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless

A/N: First, if you made it through this long sad chapter, THANK YOU! I hope the savage beating of that nigga was worth it LOL If you are wondering what I envisioned, if you watched Game of Thrones, think about when Jon beat the hell outta Ramsey after Battle of the Bastards lol that sort of visceral rage and Ramsey looked better than Shaun in my mind haha… I promise y'all, our story is on an upswing from here on out lol 90% fluff from now on, I promise!

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged! How do you think Bakari and Els are gonna recover from all this?

[fansplaining]

IWTV is the best show on TV. In today’s media environment, it is singular to be able to enjoy a show without the toxicity of the large fandoms. I have found that a majority of the show’s fans are hardcore Anne Rice fans making conversations about the show far more interesting. I am concerned of how this will change once S1 premiers on Netflix. The show deserves a larger audience and it will get it after it premiers on Netflix, but I hope the show runners remain true to the source material and continue on the path they have laid. Looking forward to future IWTV episodes.

Hello! Apologies for the delay in answering this, which I believe was in response to this article I wrote about the show and its audiences. With the official announcement this week that the AMC slate of shows are coming to Netflix on August 19th—

(also: lol Netflix, thank u)

—I was reminded to come back to it!

I totally agree with you re: the show itself, of course—but I also think you've curated your feeds very well haha. I've been observing many corners of the fandom throughout s2, partly because I was reporting on the fan/creator stuff, partly because I'm in the fandom, too. Fandoms are multifarious, and I'm not trying to paint with an overly broad brush—I've seen a ton of creativity and plenty of smart analysis etc. But I have also seen *so* much toxicity and *so* many willfully bad readings over the past few weeks, it's been shocking. Twitter in particular seems to have a literal Discourse of the Day and I don't understand how this is going to be sustainable over the year+ until s3 (lord help us all when s3 arrives lol).

There's a running joke—made so many times I'm not even thinking of a specific post—that people fear ~the Netflix masses~ will bring Bad Takes, but it seems highly likely a casual viewer will go, "Wow! Entertaining!" and move on with their lives, whereas existing fans of this show are already rocket-launching The Worst Takes at each other like clockwork (and even at random viewers who love the show but aren't a part of fandom conversations—because they don't like a person's phrasing, or the picture they chose for a post, etc etc etc).

As far as the idea that Rolin Jones or AMC will waver from their plans, I absolutely don't see that happening. AMC has long licensed their shows to large-audience platforms (Netflix in particular), but they're not making TV *for* those platforms. Jones and (IWTV EP) Mark Johnson have been pretty explicit about how they only could have made this show at AMC. I also found these post-finale comments from Jones very interesting:

I’m confident that we made the best vampire show we could make. I’m proud of the adaptation. There’s the element of second windows, how these things are going to be disseminated going forward. There does seem to be a lot of legwork done by fans. I look at 98 percent on Rotten Tomatoes, and part of me is like, Ugh, that’s way too high. If the intention here is to make something that will haunt you and that will work 15, 20 years from now, did we piss off enough people?

There was another interview I cannot find now about how a larger viewing audience in those "second windows" means more chances for the people who really connect to the show to find it. I've loved seeing that this season, even—people who hadn't checked it out for whatever reason and have now been changed by it. When I wrote that article, fans were kind of cycling in an information vacuum, with minimal signals from AMC/the creators that the metrics for success weren't a pure numbers game. But in the final press run, they hit that message hard—they are in it for the long run, they want to make the best show they can, and they understand this is a sustained partnership with fans. I think they're going to continue taking the biggest creative swings they can, and I can't wait to see what's next.

(BTW, IWTV folks: I pulled @flourish away from their baby for 90 minutes and despite their combined total of perhaps 10 hours of sleep over the past 4 weeks lol we managed to finally record a season 2 special episode. It should be out for patrons early next week!)

[gothra]

Obsessed with thoughts of HBO!Supernatural. It would have been so good. Effectively terrifying, beautifully detailed. Masterfully written. Full-bodied and rich like wine. We would have had full-frontal nudity (bush and balls), explicit and creative kills and gore, everything.

HBO would have made the show good. HBO would have made it popular by way of quality, people would be compelled to see it because of how well composed and executed it would be. It would be an efficient show, with less characters, slower storylines.

But the camp. You can’t have quality and be camp, not according to the definition of camp itself. HBO would have had the quality, but to do so, they would have to sacrifice the silliness that makes Supernatural so popular. CW Sam and Dean go back in time to the Wild West. Dean gets turned into a dog. They get transported to a universe where they are trapped in the bodies of their real life, nonfiction counterparts. Dean gets turned into an old man. Every important character has died, at least once. Dean microwaves a fairy. Sam loses his soul and turns into a dick. Paris Hilton is in an episode, playing a wax version of herself that has come to life.

HBO Sam and Dean would have to hunt one monster over the course of a season, kicking the Monster-a-Week format to the curb. The first season would be the ghost of a woman who had psychic visions or something, but Sam and Dean wouldn’t know that until the 4th episode, which would be 50 minutes long (10 minutes shorter than every other episode in that season). The first three episodes would be spent watching Sam and Dean interview everyone in the woman’s life, in deep detail, her romantic interests, her best friends (who secretly despised her), her mother who turns to the bottle in grief, and her father, who moved out and on years ago and who feels like a failure because he couldn’t protect his beloved daughter. Eventually, they’d discover her diary, where premonitions of Sam and Dean would be scribbled in charcoal and they’d wonder what it all meant, while cutting back to moments in Sam’s life where he experienced violent and terrifying visions as a child living in motels, and at Harvard.

Every moment the ghost appeared would be a deeply terrifying visual experience, artistically crafted and truly haunting. CGI would be replaced with expert angles and amazing SFX makeup. At the end of the season, it would be revealed that the young woman turned to the Catholic Church to help her explain her premonitions, only to be murdered by a Priest who was secretly lusting after her. The drawings in her journal would be bait for the next season. Sam and Dean and Castiel would meet the Pope, who would actually be possessed by Lucifer and they’d kill him and that would be the final episode of the show, in the 5th season, because HBO would never let the show get into the 10s.

[sid-the-sandwich]

The Obey Me! Anime but as a Mockumentary

This is part 3 of stealing stuff from other franchises (LOL), but this time I'm writing about the anime because I was bored and had another thought that needs to be set free onto the world.

I want to preface this by saying I LOVE the anime, its funny and cute; its very 'slice of life'-ie and the boys are all so silly in this version. but I want something different, and hopefully longer episodes.

So, what is a 'Mockumentary'? essentially its a mix of the words 'Mock' and 'Documentary'. Google defines it as 'a type of film or television show depicting fictional events, but presented as a documentary which in itself is a subset of a faux-documentary style of film-making.' Think of shows such as 'Modern Family' and 'The Office'.

i'm going to try and follow some of the plots in the actual anime but trying to get it to fit 22 minutes which is how long episodes usually are of this type.

i try to keep it condensed or we'd be here all day <3

I tried my best

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

i've decided to write episodes down with a formula of:

Ep 1- No Motivation to Study. (All brothers)

Ep 2- Ruri-Chan Viewing Party. (Leviathan)

Ep 3- For Whom the Belly Rumbles. (Beelzebub)

Ep 4- Princess Asmodeous is in Another Castle. (Asmodeous)

Ep 5- Mammon and the Dog. (Mammon)

Ep 6- Detective Satan. (Satan)

Ep 7- Camp Lucifer. (Lucifer)

Ep 8- A Trip for 7. (Belphegor)

Ep 9- Beach Babes (All brothers)

Ep 10- A Bunny Boy's New Years' (All brothers)

Also, i thought it would be funny if MC was the one doing the interview portions; of course, we'd never see MC, but it is alluded that they are behind the camera.

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

Ep 1: No motivation to study

Main Plot points:

A plot- The brother's are studying for an exam

B plot- Mammon's makes the 'miss em' doll

Story flow:

Plot A:

The brothers are introduced

the brothers are studying for an exam

Mammon is slacking off as usual

the brothers cant concentrate as they keep getting distracted

they want MC to come back to the devildom

The brothers goof off

Plot B:

Mammon makes the Miss 'em dolls and sells them

Ep 2: Ruri-chan viewing party

Main Plot points:

A plot- Levi grabs all the dateables for a viewing party

B plot- the rest of the brothers are hiding from Levi

Story:

Plot A:

Levi squeals in excitement which means there's a new Ruri-chan movie.

he tells the camera in the 'interview' how much he LOVES the movie he wants to show them today,

he continues talking and talking

Levi tries to find his brothers around the house but can't

he decides to find ANYONE who will listen

He finds Simeon who was badly hiding behind the couch, Simeon rats Luke and Solomon out.

Levi even takes Diavolo and Barbatos

keeping the dateables in his room, not letting them leave

he over-explains everything to them

He stops them from leaving multiple times, Luke even tries to fake an illness to get out

Even Levi's snake hides from him

Plot B:

All the brothers try to tiptoe around the house, trying to avoid Levi who is constantly listening to find people who would listen find others

The brothers express in the interviews how they love Levi... but they cannot stand another one of his movies

Ep 3: For whom the belly rumbles

Main Plot points: (I got inspired by the episode of 'Modern Family', 'Connection Lost')

A plot- Beel is lost in some sort of island. the whole ep takes place on the DDD interface.

B plot- Lucifer, Satan and Asmo are at Diavolo's castle

C plot- Levi, Mammon and Belphie are in the HOL

Story:

Plot A:

Beel scrolls through apps on his phone, somehow having internet access

he then opens his contacts and dials Lucifer on facetime

Asmo pops into facetime on Lucifer's laptop

Beel dials Belphie who is asleep, then he dials Levi who is always on his phone.

they all try to find out what and where Beel is

they offer suggestions but Beel keeps getting distracted

All it ends up, is that Beel accidentally sent himself into a game world after eating a game disc

Plot B:

Lucifer has to give a speach on behalf of Diavolo

when Beel calls on Lucifer's laptop, Lucifer was going over his speach as Asmo does his makeup and Satan was checking who attended.

they try to help Beel out of where he is before Lucifer gives his speach

Plot C:

Levi was chasing Mammon around the house when Beel calls

Belphie was asleep

Ep 4: Princess Asmodeous is in another Castle

Main Plot points:

A plot- Asmodeous gets sent into Levi's game as the princess, he loves it a little too much

B plot- Lucifer giving Mammon a driving lesson

Story:

Plot A:

Asmo and the other brothers are sent into a game

at first, Asmo is annoyed but then he realises he is the princess and forces everyone to do his bidding

he wants to be saved in a certain way, dressed in a certain way, etc

Asmo likes it

Asmo becomes like an evil dictator

the brothers revolt against the prince and they win the game

Plot B:

Mammon got a parking ticket and it turned out his license expired a few months ago

Lucifer gives Mammon a driving lesson

Ep 5: Mammon and the Dog

Main Plot points:

A plot- Mammon was turned into a dog, and Mammon runs away

B plot- Levi and Asmo had a previous fight but also Satan and Belphie had a previous fight

Story:

A plot:

Starts with Mammon having a dumb look on his face, his lips not moving but he is talking with the camera zooming into Mammon's face, Mammon then says "Hey over 'ere!", the camera zooms out and shows Mammon sitting next to a dog. Mammon is the dog.

Dog Mammon explains how he got cursed and then it plays out like the anime for the first 5 minutes

The brothers go out to eat dinner where they tease Mammon like usual

Mammon mishears something Lucifer said

Mammon leaves when no one was looking

The brothers in groups look for Mammon (Group 1: Levi and Asmo, Group 2: Satan, Belphie and Beel), they go to Casinos, clubs, bars to try look

Lucifer finds Mammon in MC's bedroom, they talk

Everyone resolves their conflicts by the end

B plot:

Asmo and Levi are fighting because Levi didn't include Asmo on a stream

Satan and Belphie are fighting because of an understanding when talking about the Anti-Lucifer defense league

Ep 6: Detective Satan

Main Plot points:

A plot- Detective Satan with the younger brothers

B plot- Mammon, Lucifer and Levi are taking Mammon to his driving test

Story:

Plot A:

Satan solves his brothers mysteries, expanding on 'Detective Satan' 1 and 2.

Plot B:

Lucifer and Levi take Mammon to the driving center

When Mammon is having his exam with Little D no. 2 as the examiner, Mammon is chased by a guy who he owns a debt to

Mammon tries to out drive the debt collecters

Levi and Lucifer chase after them in a third car

Mammon somehow passes his test

Ep 7: Camp Lucifer

Main Plot points:

A plot- Lucifer takes his brothers to a camp

B plot- Mammon and Asmo want to go to a party instead

C plot- Levi, Satan and Belphie just want to go back home

Story:

Plot A:

Lucifer is overzealous about camp, he's doing everything

All the brothers gather around the campfire, and each brother wants to get away.

When Lucifer goes away to deal with an argument Beel caused because he ate the next door camp's food

When he comes back all his brothers except for Beel have gone

Beel is eating all the food at the campfire, Lucifer pets him on the head

after a while of Lucifer and Beel alone, where Lucifer is just watching Beel eat, Lucifer goes away to wash his hands

the rest of the brothers feel bad, and return

Lucifer returns and sees ALL his brothers back around the campfire again roasting marshmallows

Lucifer joins them

Plot B:

Asmo and Mammon have big plans to escape for the night because they heard that a devildom celeb was at a club

they sneak out when lucifer is distracted

but eventually they return after a while

Plot C:

Levi, Belphie and Satan hide in the tents wanting to just rest and get away from all the insects and flies

Ep 8: A trip for 7

Main Plot points:

A plot- Belphie is sad because his brothers are treating him different

B plot- Road trip with all the brothers in a caravan

Story:

Plot A:

Part one and two of 'A trip for 7'

Belphie is just watching as his brothers interact

but most of the trip takes place in a caravan as they going to their destination

Plot B:

The brothers have a pillow fight and play cards without belphie because things are still awkward with him

Ep 9: Beach Babes

Main Plot points:

A plot- Mammon trying to get pics of Lucifer shirtless

B plot- Asmo takes Beel as his wingman to pick up some 'babes'

Story:

Plot A:

Mammon wraps up each of his brothers to help him in his endeavours

he asks Levi to dress like an octopus to catch Lucifer off guard

he asks Satan to place a curse of Lucifer that raises his body heat until he is so warm he wants to take his shirt off

he asks Belphie to create an elaborate trap but Belphie just throws crabs at Lucifer while not even moving from his place under the umbrella

Plot B:

Asmo takes Beel with the promise of food to find some 'babes'

Asmo tries flirting with some people but Beel is somehow doing better than him

Asmo finds someone from behind

the 'babe' is actually Solomon

Ep 10: A bunny boy's New Years'

Main Plot points:

A plot- Brothers as Bunny boys

B plot- the dateables come to the Bunny boy restaurant for New Years

Story:

Plot A:

the brothers have to be bunny boys to make up for Mammon's debt

they attend to the dateables

Plot B:

Season finale where the dateables recap the whole season

-----------

Yh... idk what this one was- i think i hallucinated half of it <3

[tripthelightfatality]

Snapshot Brat

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), Edging, Mentions of spanking, Mentions of toy use, Slight choking, Slight slapping, Daddy kink, Begging, Spanking, Dirty talk, Sending nudes, Bondage, Dom! Danny, Sub! Reader, Brat! Reader, Spit play, Rough sex, Squirting, Orgasm denial, Hickeys, Dacryphilia, Pure filth

Pairing: Danny x Reader

This is my first smut fic in a long time! I hope you enjoy <3

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, Princess” Danny rasped into your ear. You were sitting in his lap with your back flush to his chest and wrists bound behind you. Danny has been edging you for the past fifteen minutes with no remorse. 

His fingers curled inside of you at a torturous pace while his calloused thumb toyed with your aching clit. He knew what motions made you writhe and squirm. Playing fair was never a part of a punishment.

-Earlier that day- 

“Y/N…if you keep this up, you’re not going to like what’s waiting for you” His tone of voice indicated that you were playing a dangerous game. Despite his warning, you wanted to push the limit. 

You’ve been on a serious brat streak lately and this was the one act that could get you into a world of trouble. Danny had an interview today and was not in the mood for any of your antics. After getting some makeup on and changing the bedroom lighting, it was time to put your plan into motion.

A nude as sinful as lust itself sat on the screen. The only thing stopping you from sealing your fate was the send button. Hesitation crept behind you for a second but that was put to a swift end with a push of the button. The screen lit up with Danny’s name and your heart dropped into your stomach. 

“You have 10 minutes until I get home.” 

There were two different types of punishments for being a brat: spankings and edging. If Danny was feeling generous, he’d only give you a certain amount of swats with his hand or toy choice. Edging was used when disobedience needed to die. 

“P-Please Daddy…I-I learned my lesson…please let me cum” you whimpered out. The mascara ran down your cheeks and pussy was making a mess of his thighs. 

Danny sucked a hickey on the junction of your neck and chuckled, “I don’t believe you have, baby. It’s a shame Daddy has to make your pussy cry when I should be spoiling her.” His tone was dripping with false sympathy. 

You felt yourself teetering on the edge of release when Danny removed his fingers suddenly. You thrashed against him and let out a pitiful wine. A hand wrapped around your throat and the sting of a slap spread across your inner thigh. 

The hand around your throat gave you a light squeeze as if it was a warning to stop. You immediately stopped moving to salvage any chances of cumming tonight.

He laced his arms under your thighs and lifted you out of his lap. “You just had to be a little brat huh? I even warned you, yet you still chose to defy me.” Danny growled while placing you on the bed. A gasp fell from your mouth as he ran the head of his cock through your folds.

“Are you going to be my good girl again?”

“Y-Yes I’ll be good! Please fuck me please daddy!” you babbled out.

The groan that escaped from Danny’s lungs was almost primal as he slid into you. The sounds of raw sex filled the room as he pounded into you.The grip he had on your hips was guaranteed to leave bruises. A wail of pleasure ripped from your lungs as Danny hit all the right spots inside of you. 

“Is this what you needed? For daddy to fuck your pretty cunt until you’re a screaming mess?” Danny taunted, his palm cracking against your ass. 

The only things coming out of you were a string of curses and moans that occupied the bedroom. Danny wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you back against his chest. His fingers rubbed harsh circles against your screaming clit. Your legs were threatening to give out from the feelings of overstimulation.

“What do brats get when they act out?” 

“T-They get punished” you whispered out

Danny untied your bonds and flipped you onto your back with ease. He slid back inside of you and grabbed your jaw. Without command, you opened your mouth. A moan that would put a porn star to shame erupted from you as Danny spat directly into your mouth.

“That’s right, baby. They do get punished.” He purred while fucking you into the mattress.

Right when you thought the torture of being edged couldn’t get worse, Danny played the dirtiest card in his arsenal. He propped your legs onto his shoulders and slowed his thrusts down. The tears that brimmed your eyes fell down your cheeks once more. 

Danny took pity on you and softly kissed your tears. This action was enough to have you teetering on the edge of your climax. 

‘Be a doll and cum for me…make it nice and pretty” 

 A scream ripped out of your core as a rush of liquid covered Danny’s chest as your release took over your body. Danny moaned at the sight of you and hit his high shortly after. The both of you hissed in unison as he pulled out. Stars clouded your vision as you fell into a blissful state.

Danny’s soft voice pulled you back into reality.

“You did so good, dove. I hope I wasn’t too rough on you” He said with a kiss on your temple. A fucked out grin spread across your face. “Not at all, babe. I think the punishment was fitting” 

 Danny picked you up gently and made his way to the bathroom. The smell of lavender soap filled your nose as he placed you into the water. He joined you inside the tub and held you close. 

“I love you, Y/N”

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @oxygenforthewicked  |  AO3: Oxygenforthewicked

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

10 Reasons Why Rift Hopping Is Probably Hazardous to Your Health (Hint: Cassandra Is One of Them)

Gin and Dema talk process, inspiration, and what to do when a character kicks down your door

Dema: Since this is a Big Bang I'll start there: have you done one before? If you have, what made you want to do it again? If not: what made you wanna give it a go? 

Gin: I've considered being a part of a Big Bang event before but I haven't actually done one yet. However, after seeing all of the fics and artwork that came out of other bangs last year, I got a better feel for it and decided I wanted to give it a try!

Dema: So exciting! Are you finding that this process feels different from how you usually write?

Gin: Not really, honestly. I've done NaNoWriMo in the past, and this feels similar in terms of working towards a set goal. I think the big difference (and better difference, honestly) is that this is much more community-centered, and the goal is to finish the project instead of just reaching a word count minimum. That in and of itself is a really refreshing new challenge.

Dema: When you tackle a project like this, what does that look like for you?

Gin: Usually I like to prepare a concept/vague outline first, write out in more detail the major plot points, create a mood playlist, and just start writing! I do tend to carve out time for writing, too, as that helps me focus better.

Dema: How much time do you feel like you need in a chunk? (Me, interviewing: “So, writing. How Do You Do It. AND WHY??)

Gin: It depends. Sometimes I can write for several consecutive hours, other times my brain can only handle about thirty minutes. Either way, I know that as long as I get words on the page, I'm making progress! But creativity isn't something that can be forced, so if the words just aren't coming out, I'll take a break for a while and refresh my brain by reading a book or watching something. Once my creative battery is full again, I can knock out a huge chunk of the project, and that usually feels so much better than trying to strongarm my brain into getting words out.

Dema: Is there something you are reading or watching right now that is providing particular inspiration? Or if not inspiration, rejuvenation?

Gin: Yes, actually! I'm currently reading A Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss, and it's been giving me all sorts of good inspiration.

Dema: Oh yes! I love that book. Is there anything in particular about it that's scratching the itch?

Gin: The lore and worldbuilding are both so interesting, but I'm also just very invested in the characters. This series so far has done a great job of creating a rich world with fleshed-out characters, an intricate magic system, and I love the complexity of the relationships. (In short, all of it!) 

Dema: Hard agree, I love those complicated characters and dynamics. Speaking of characters, when you're crafting an OC, what's your starting point? What was the spark that birthed Saeris, if you want to be more specific?

Gin: Most of the time, it's a picture or a song that sparks the initial concept. But there are other times when OCs kick down the door in my head and decide that they live there rent-free. Saeris was one of those characters. Admittedly, I did intend on creating Saeris for a specific project after reading The Horror of Hormak, but he was supposed to be a minor character that I was going to write once and never write again after that. (Boy was I wrong.) But what really sparked the inspiration for him was a photo I found while looking up references for gray eyes. The vibe of that photo just seemed like it fit him so well that his entire character quickly started unfolding bit by bit after that. I chose a name for him, a class, and all of it snowballed until he became my most fleshed-out character (and my favorite).

Dema: How long ago was that?

Gin: April 2022

Dema: Awwww! He’s two! 

Gin: LOL! It was when the event I was writing him for took place. 

Dema: I will not ask you if your Bang fic involves Saeris because I do not want to pry any spoilers from you, but thank you for your click-bait title and for your interview! Gin: Sounds good! And thank you!! It was very fun chatting.

[animesavior]

"The Earth just draw the attention of some of the most despicable beings the universe has to offer. If something isn't done soon, we could find ourselves in a lot of trouble. what can we do? We could try to wish our enemies away, but even the great Shenron might be powerless against their tremendous strength. Goku is the greatest Warrior the Earth has ever known. Yet to these Saiyans, he's nothing more than an inconvenience. I wonder if King Kai's instruction will even help? Until Goku returns, it seems Gohan is our best hope. He's young though, and there's so little time." -          Kami, Dragon Ball Z Kai (Ep. 04)

The Toonami Trending Rundown for March 2-4, 9-10, and 16-17, 2024. The 27th anniversary of the better cartoon came on a somber note, as it was reported on March 8th that Akira Toriyama, the creator of the Dragon Ball franchise, had passed away on March 1st at the age of 68 due to acute subdural hematoma. Dragon Ball is considered to be Toonami’s greatest success story, as since DBZ first aired in the lineup back in 1999, the show led the charge to bring about the 90’s-2000’s anime boom and the overall popularity of anime in the west today.

And as the anime world paid their respects to a legend, Toonami fans celebrated the life and legacy of Toriyama the best way they knew how, by enjoying Dragon Ball Z on Toonami.

Toonami made a quick tribute to Toriyama during the night of March 9 as the news came on short notice for the Toonami staff. But for the following week on the night of March 16-17, following the regular schedule (save for One Piece and Naruto which took the night off), Toonami aired a marathon of the first eight episodes of DBZ Kai.

In regards to social media buzz, For the night of March 2-3, #Toonami trended in the United States on Twitter alongside Ninja Kamui, Demon Slayer, and Lycoris Recoil. #Toonami also trended on Tumblr alongside Naruto Shippuden. Later, on the night of March 9-10, #Toonami also trended alongside Ninja Kamui, Demon Slayer, and Lycoris Recoil; with #Toonami and Demon Slayer trending alongside the late Akira Toriyama, Dragon Ball Z, and DBZ. And on the night of March 16-17, #Toonami trended on Twitter alongside Ninja Kamui, Lycoris Recoil and DBZ Kai. #Toonami also trended on Tumblr.

As a bonus, this rundown includes a list of trends that occurred when we got the news of Toriyama’s passing to showcase his impact to the world. Besides Akira Toriyama, #Toonami and other Dragon Ball related content trended as fans made their tributes to Toriyama.

On a more positive note, on March 8, Viz Media and Toonami announced that Zom 100, the hit new anime series by Haro Aso and Kotaro Takata, will be airing on Toonami beginning this March 30, 2024 at 12:30 a.m. Zom 100 will be replacing Demon Slayer on the lineup, which will be going on hiatus from the block after completing the Entertainment District Arc the week before on March 23. There is no word when Toonami and Aniplex plan on airing the show’s next season, the Swordsmith Village Arc, at this time.

In an interview with Variety released on March 22, James Gibbons, President of Warner Bros Discovery’s Asia-Pacific division, revealed that WBD plans on increasing its anime output for 2024 and beyond, saying “We have a Japanese anime studio, which has been producing five or ten anime series per year, over the last few years. [...] We’ve approved expansion to take that to more than ten series per year.” How many of those titles Toonami itself will get to broadcast is yet to be seen, but it's a good sign that WBD remains committed to anime overall.

Tune in tonight for the finale of Demon Slayer’s Entertainment District Arc, among other great moments. Do note that as the season finale of Demon Slayer is 45 minutes long, every show after will air 15 minutes later than usual tonight. Stay gold as always, and Toriyama-san, may you rest in peace in the Other World and thank you for everything. Until we meet again.

Legend: The shows listed are ordered based on their appearance on the schedule. Show trends are listed in bold. The number next to the listed trend represents the highest it trended on the list (not counting the promoted trend), judging only by the images placed in the rundown. For the Twitter tweet counts, the listed number of tweets are also sorely based on the highest number shown based on the images on the rundown.

March 2-3, 2024 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#6]

#NinjaKamui [#3]

#DemonSlayer [#11]

#LycorisRecoil [#10]

Tweet Counts:

#Toonami [3,490 tweets]

#DemonSlayer [3,256 tweets]

#LycorisRecoil [1,812 tweets]

Tumblr Trends:

#toonami [#4]

#naruto shippuden [Trended with #toonami]

March 9-10, 2024 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#9]

#NinjaKamui [#10]

#DemonSlayer [Trended with #NinjaKamui]

#LycorisRecoil [#9]

Tweet Counts:

#Toonami [4,435 tweets]

Tumblr Trends:

#toonami [#1]

#DemonSlayer [#6]

#akira toriyama [#7]

#dragon ball z [Trended with #akira toriyama]

#dbz [Trended with #akira toriyama]

March 16-17, 2024 Trends

United States Trends:

#Toonami [#5]

#NinjaKamui [#8]

#LycorisRecoil [#Toonami]

#DBZKai [#Toonami]

Tumblr Trends:

#toonami [#2]

If you wish to send me a tip for the work on the trending rundown, donations can be sent to PayPal.Me/DanielLimjoco.

Until we meet again…Only Toonami on [adult swim] on Cartoon Network.

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "A Tour of Odd Squad" Episode Followup, Part 1

Newbies to the fandom might not remember this, but a long long time ago, as part of a charity event for Make-A-Wish Canada, the people behind Odd Squad held an auction for various props used in the show. With it also came a tour of the set, which is how we got the infamous "Walmart canon" bit between Joshua Kilimnik and Olivia Presti.

This...may or may not serve as a continuation. Hard to tell from teaser images and a synopsis. But the vibe is very much the same.

So without further ado, let's get "A Tour of Odd Squad" below the break.

Your writer for this e- oh God.

Well that opening blurb just got yoted into the fire.

Hey, remember when "Off the Clock" established that Odd Squad has Timekeepers that are in charge of all time in the world? Remember how nonsensical that was?

Hahahahaha...ha...aah...

*low pained groan*

And your director, a newcomer to the franchise who...has only done the franchise.

Once again, I will repeat: a 10-year-old franchise is not the best place to start for amateur writers and directors, and please keep them away until they have some good experience.

He went from an agent to an advertiser within the span of one gadget zap.

'S what happens on the job. Your brain gets fried sometimes. That's why lobotomies are handed out like candy!

This...okay, it was fine when Ozzie did it, but now it's just getting stale. We got 11 minutes. Let's hurry this up, please?

Going to set aside Orli's comment (which should be answered with "how do you know they aren't clients?") to discuss something.

See, I want you guys to look at this group. Really look at it. Sweep your gaze all around. Watch the scene itself if you have to.

You will notice...you will notice...there are no children.

Now, this is very much a crackpot theory, but I'm going to pose it based on scraps of previous evidence: this is a jab at older fans of Odd Squad who may or may not have children of their own.

Making jabs at adult fans, and those outside of the demographic in general, is nothing new. Tim himself remarked a long time ago in an interview about the show regarding wearing Odd Squad costumes that "when a kid does it, it's cute. When an adult does it, it's creepy." And no, he's not talking about parents -- parents dressing up in matching costumes with their kids is normal and not creepy. He's talking about the people who don't have kids in the family but watch the show anyway and dress up in agent attire. (I can't say for certain whether those outside the demographic but are under the age of 18 fall under this branch. I wouldn't think it does, but he hasn't said anything official regarding that and I'm not sure if he's even aware teens and young adults who watch the show actually exist in the first place.)

Given how this episode is about two villains one villain joining this superfan group in disguise...it makes me wonder if this episode is some kind of "take that" at adult fans who watch the show, since adults in this franchise are often villainized.

...Ahh I dunno. Maybe it's just me being more cynical than usual. But whether my theory is farfetched or not, you can't deny that there are a couple layers of metaness to it.

Let's move on.

More fake than the smile Oscar put on at the end of "Ms. O Uh-Oh", and with none of the charm and all of the creepiness.

Smile 2's lookin' great.

THE SCOOTER'S BACK!!!! IT DO BE BACK!!!!!! AND I THINK HE DO BE RIDIN' IT!!!!!

...I'm starting to think this is the modern version of that Segway Oscar once drove.

Might as well lay down the one thing I don't like about Orwell: he needs to be stoic all the time. Real calm, like Ocean, but a lot more stoic. This line? Should be said entirely deadpan. Take a few cues from Oksana.

That's what I like.

But that's not what he is. And I'm not too keen on what we're getting.

*long sigh*

Girl with the red hair.

Pack it up, next episode.

"Just avoid taking them anywhere of interest or telling them anything interesting."

Heh...ha...yeah, I dunno, that might be hard to do. It's Odd Squad. Everything is interesting.

Well, your cousin got paired up with a chipper helpful guy.

You, sir, are paired up with an idiot.

These tours will not be the same.

Wh- lmao what is this, Owen and Ohio Mk. II?

What's more offensive: the fact that these villains talked loudly during the movie, or the fact that this Security agent recorded them during the movie?

Both are very sinful and go against theater etiquette. Recording someone without their consent also goes against moral standards.

Ohhh...so it's like "Good Egg Bad Egg" but more meta...

I'd like this math lesson in anything that wasn't meta, in all honesty.

Ohhh...y'see that's how you know they're fancy. They got swivel chairs.

I can see Otis toppling out of them every minute.

"Nine of these people aren't villains, and they deserve a good tour!"

And all of those non-villains...have children.

They can't say it because it makes no sense in the context of the episode, but you know the thought was running through Rob's mind in some capacity.

...

Fine. I will go get the tinfoil hat. Leave me alone.

take criminals to gun range

"hey, anyone wanna shoot some targets with fancy small handguns?"

It is.

The same.

EXACT.

THING.

And this guy was clearly made in my image.

Gadgets, and what they have are blue Macbooks.

I mean...to some degree, they are gadgets, so I can't complain too much...

Osgood better watch out. Man's got competition.

"Hate to say it, but this tour isn't as much fun as I thought it'd be."

Because you're adu- okay, that's a stretch. That's really a stretch.

For about half a second, I thought her name was "O'Crap", but I think it's actually "Okra" and I'm reading too much into it.

If Odd Squad got a parody, though, you know "O'Crap" probably would be one of the names of the agents.

I would have also accepted "DoorDash Danielle", because that's exactly who this lady works for.

...Look at it. It's red. It's DoorDash. Don't fight me on this.

I can already see where this is going.

The guy who got all excited about gadgets is the villain.

...Pack it up, next epi-

Ah, I see Opie's whipping out her hidden sarcasm.

*long deep sigh*

Halfway into the goddamn season and all they can think of in terms of references is to reference a mere two of the thirteen living-legend agents.

I'm not even mad. I'm not even surprised. I'm just sorely disappointed they'd slip a reference to Oscar into a meta episode.

They massacred my boy and now he looks unrecognizable because sounding unrecognizable was not enough.

Security agent

scared of the dark

Sucks for a man who has to "secure the perimeter", huh?

I...okay, but aside from him showing off his scooter...why not just give Opie the earpiece to begin with?

...FUCKING ROB.

(On to Part 2!)

[galaxy-jessie]

Summary of the 45 minute long interview with Todd regarding starfield:

No fishing

Procedurally generated content includes pre-built locations that will be generated when you land. An abandoned station for example will be generated only after you land on a planet, but the layout of that station is hand crafted. So expect 500+ identical dungeons

Such hand crafted content will not spawn as often, to give planets the feeling of desolation, to make you think you're the first person to ever land there and all you could really to is grind resources

Only 10% of planets actually have life on them, majority will be lifeless as are most planets we know about. So life itself will be pretty rare, scattered on only ≈100 out of "1000" planets

Some planets have only 1 biome. But that's probably related to already inhospitable planets. Can't have a biome if you have no biosphere

Planets with life do have multiple (says "few") biomes

You need to prepare before landing for environmental hazards, such as temperature, radiation and weather (think sand storms or icy winds)

You can get certain ilnesses / health problems (in direct we see "cough" and you can have multiple health issues but we weren't shown a lot of it)

"Planet traits" are mostly geological traits (likely related to just resource grind)

Surveying planets provides data. That data can be sold. The more you scan, the more money you'll receive. So you can earn for living just by scanning planets. Planet traits are included in this scanning

Aggressive animals can and, given the circumstances, will kill all other peaceful animals around

No land vehicles

You'll have to move around on foot or using a jetpack, which comes really handy on planets with lower gravity

Companions aren't mandatory / you can play the game solo without relying on companions, and certain character traits / skills help you with this specifically

There are multiple robot companions but Todd didn't want to share anything about them (so they're likely story relevant). "There is Vasco and something else"

Only constellation followers (4 of them) are romanceable and they have personal quests and affinity system (like in fallout 4). They're "more fleshed out" meaning other crew members you can hire are probably just generic npcs

If you don't like your companion anymore you can "leave them behind" or asign them to some middle of nowhere and forget about them or just leave them to some random outpost to farm materials for you

There are some "local radio stations" to tune

Todd doesn't think he'll be a good radio host

If you want to upgrade stolen ships, you must first pay to register them

Ship building / upgrading is reserved for late game, and it's very expensive

Todd didn't want to share what happens if you're scanned and caught with contraband

"Grav drive" is short for "graviton loop field array"

FTL works by bending space in front of you, like folding a paper and poking a hole through it

Volumetric fog and motion blur are a thing and it's one of the things that made the game locked to 30fps on consoles and Todd doesn't feel like removing those

Generic fetch quests are a thing obviously

Making outposts is for late game, it's expensive and requires some skills for advanced outposts (again like in fallout 4 with charisma perks). Supply lines between outposts is a thing

Outposts can generate revenue

When asked about black holes, he said he is "passing the question" so black holes will likely be very very relevant to the story

Vasco can't wear a hat :/

On a personal note:

I don't think the lack of land vehicles is a bad thing. From what we've seen, we're not supposed to stay on a planet for too long in one spot. So a vehicle for a small area we're expected to explore would be unnecessary. I mean, I see the reasoning not to include them, but I would've prefered if they were a vanilla thing

Radios are most definitely not going to be music stations like in fallout. They'll most likely be distress calls. That, and if bethesda feel generous, we'll get another silver shroud-esque quest

Lack of life forms isn't surprising. I mean, other than our planet we don't know about life anywhere in space. So only 10% of planets having life isn't that unrealistic

We certainly won't be clapping any alien cheeks, but I'm convinced that the game is about First contact. We have plenty of AAA games where humanity works with / against / for different alien races, but one about meeting aliens for the first time, I can't think of one

Black hole(s) will be extremely important, given how reluctant Todd was to talk about them

[ppenguinpperson]

The Admission of RT002-465

Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research LOG: XXXXXX Written by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN. XXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Regarding Anastasia Komarova (Lacking ID)

BASIC INFORMATION Subject is 13 years old (F). It came to the facility on 21. 08. 2009. We have not been able to reach the subject’s legal guardians. It is presumed they are avoiding contact with us/law enforcement. Subject voluntarily gives information on itself, but it is not clear whether it’s telling the truth. The information it’s given us, and information that has been brought to our attention by observing it, goes as follows:

First name: Anastasia Last name: Komarova Mother: Anna Komarova Father: Anatoliy Komar Date of birth: 01. 09. 1995 Place of birth: XXXXX, XXXXXX Address: XXXXXXXX, XXX, XXXXX/XX Disabilities, allergies: — Appearance: 158 cm, 62 kg – Eyes are blue. Skin is white. Hair is long and ginger. At the time of capture, the subject was wearing a school uniform (white shirt, black skirt, black shoes) with its hair in 2 braids. No scars, no piercings, no birthmarks. Subject’s appearance holds no abnormality. Extra information:

It is presumed the subject is mentally unstable. It cries at random times with no fixed schedule. It yells at staff if displeased. It refuses to eat the food and wear the clothes we provide it with. It only calms if it deems it has been treated fairly.

It is presumed the subject’s homelife was unhealthy. See above. The subject claims both legal guardians were aware of its anomalous nature and chose not to report it.

The subject’s mutation has regenerative qualities (read for more information).

The subject’s capture is unusual. I wish to document it for future reference. All parties were interviewed separately, but recounted the events in a near identical manner. The event prescribed here took place 21. 08. 2009, ~10:15-11:00. The security guards (EN XXXXXX, EN XXXXXX), posted at the entrance of block A. claim the subject approached them ~10:15 AM. They claim it requested to be let inside the institute, and declared itself a mutant. Neither of the guards have the ability to detect anomalies, and due to the subject’s human appearance, neither believed it was telling the truth. Both claim it grew distressed upon being repeatedly denied access. XXXXXX claims he panicked when it approached him. He then raised his gun at the subject (Note: At the time, he was not aware he was in contact with an anomaly), in what he claims to be self defense. XXXXXX claims he had no intention of shooting the anomaly. From my office in block A, I heard 2 gunshots ~10:20. Dr. XXXXXX (EN XXXXXX) and Dr. XXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX) can confirm. XXXXXX shot the subject in the chest, in its left lung. He claims he missed the second shot (This is true: a bullet was found in the grass where the incident took place). He shot it with the Glock 22, which has bullets 10 mm diameter. Both guards claim nothing happened between ~10:20 and ~10:30 while they were alone with the subject. After ~10 minutes of the subject being injured, XXXXXX called for help. Dr. XXXXX, Dr. XXXXXX, and I rushed it to the 2A operating room. (Note: This is NOT something we should practice in the future. I agree the situation was difficult , but we CANNOT afford to operate on people when we don’t have clearance to, especially CHILDREN. Had the subject turned out to be a human, it would not only have died, but we would have been liable. Do NOT do this again.) The subject should have been in critical condition, but it was only moderate. The subject managed to speak short coherent sentences (It repeatedly said “Help me” and “Don’t shoot me”). The subject was exhibiting abnormal behavior during preparation (ex: not bleeding as much as expected, not coughing up blood, not passing out from blood loss). It turned unconscious when Dr. XXXXXX administered anesthesia. We successfully managed to reach the bullet located in the left lung, only to find an anomaly. The lung tissue had already begun to grow over it and fixed the bullet in place. The bullet was successfully removed with minimal damage done to the subject’s lung. Halfway during the operation,~10:40, the subject woke up. It should have been unconscious for another few hours. No more anesthesia was administered so as to not risk its health. Subject was restrained for the rest of the operation. The operation ended ~10:50 when the subject was deemed stable. Subject later confirms the events prior to administration of anesthesia. It only claims it was not ‘distressed’, as the guards and I claim, and instead says it was perfectly calm. It is presumed it is lying about this to appear more mature.

REQUESTS Written Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (E.N. XXXXX) 23. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (E.N. XXXXXX) 25. 08. 2009 Regarding Anastasia Komarova (Lacking ID)

Request to give the subject proper ID. Request it to be categorized as Regenerative Type. Request for the third digit of the ID to be 2. Request for the last three digits of the ID to be standard (Ex: RT002-XYZ – I do not know how many Regenerative Types we’ve had.) Request for minimized contact with other subjects. Request to be primary handler of the subject. Request to get different clothing for the subject.

REASONS: Reason for Type: Subject is breathing well despite being shot in the lung. Dr. XXXXX and Dr. XXXXXX can confirm the visuals of tissue growing over its wound. Subject agrees that this Typing would be accurate. If my request for Typing is denied, I request more tests to confirm my theory. Reason for Class: Subject has not yet shown traits that would deem it deserving of 01 treatment. Subject has not yet shown violent tendencies and claims its Anomalous nature holds no dangerous properties, which I am inclined to believe. Undeserving of 04 treatment. Subject is very eager to help and has repeatedly stated, I quote, “I love you”. Classing it as 03 could discourage it from cooperation. It is deserving of 02 classing. Request for Other: 

 Primary Handler: Multiple times, it has expressed gratitude to me for ‘saving it’, and has requested me multiple times for unimportant reasons, such as ‘feeling lonely’. In any other case, I would request to be as little involved with the subject as possible, but because this one has spent its life disguised as a human I suspect it’s important for it to build an attachment to the institute. I will keep the relationship strictly professional. I will not pursue this request if it is denied.

Clothes: Subject refuses to wear what has been picked out for it. It claims that ‘(it) didn’t come here to be treated like a little kid’. It will be easier giving it the clothing that it wants. This would provide comfort and build trust.

RESPONSE: Written by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                                25. 08. 2009 Authorized by Dr. XXXX XXXXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                          25. 08. 2009

ID: APPROVED (Subject will receive ID)             Type: DISAPPROVED (It is too early for Typing) – APPROVED request for more tests (On the requirement that there are results)             Class: APPROVED (On the requirement subject will be demoted to 03 if it shows signs of aggression, or to 04 if it shows signs of desire to leave)            Other:

Primary Handler: TBD (02 Class subjects do not usually get PHs. I was planning to let group AA get control of it, but it’s true it’d be useful to create an attachment early on. Many factors to consider here.)

Clothing: APPROVED (Don’t push it, it’s not getting new clothes. There’s a bunch of old clothes that should be the subject’s size in block C. Give it those.)

CONCLUSION: Written by Dr. XXXXX XXXXXX (EN XXXXXX)                                                     02. 09. 2009 Authorized by Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX)                                             02. 09. 2009 Regarding RT002-465 (Anastasia Komarova)

ID: RT002-456 Primary Handler: Dr. Gabriela Kozlova (EN XXXXXX) and team AA Extra Information:  RT will have no contact with other subjects for a minimum of a month. This includes giving it its own room for the time being. RT’s legal guardians have agreed to pay child support until the subject turns 18 years old. RT will receive a psych. evaluation. RT’s antics will not be tolerated. RT will receive checkups by its PH twice a week for the next month. The PH will then monitor it as he/she sees fit. RT’s mutation is still a mystery. Take care to keep it alive during experiments.

[shiftingrn]

Incorrect quotes as me and my family in my One Piece Dr

For reference I am the daughter of Mihawk and a woman named Cassandra, and my siblings are Perona, Lynn (oc), Zoro, and Jason(oc)

Dracule: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Sam: What if it bites me and it dies!? Perona: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Sam, learn to listen. Lynn: What if it bites itself and I die? Zoro: That’s voodoo. Jason: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Sam: That’s correlation, not causation. Lynn: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Zoro: That’s kinky. Dracule: Oh my God.

____________________________

Dracule: Time for plan G. Sam: Don’t you mean plan B? Dracule: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Perona: What about plan D? Dracule: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Lynn: What about plan E? Dracule: I’m hoping not to use it. Zoro dies in plan E. Jason: I like plan E.

__________________________

Jason: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Sam: Several traffic violations. Perona: Three counts of resisting arrest. Lynn: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Zoro: Also, that’s not our car.

_______________________________

Jason: I’m an idiot. Sam: Perona: Lynn: Zoro: Jason: Sam: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

___________________________________

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Cass: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Sam: ...I did. I broke it. Cass: No. No you didn't. Jason? Jason: Don't look at me. Look at Lynn. Lynn: What?! I didn't break it. Jason: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Lynn: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Jason: Suspicious. Lynn: No, it's not! Zoro: If it matters, probably not, but Perona was the last one to use it. Perona: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Zoro: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Perona: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Zoro! Sam: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Cass. Cass: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Zoro: Cass... Jason's been awfully quiet. Jason: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Cass, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Cass: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Cass: Cass: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

[itskobold]

Morning thoughts about Chris Dane Owen's Empire Queen, spoilers under a readmore.

CDO has always seemed like a really self-serious guy, I've seen interviews with him and he's always struck me as a little ambivalent to the idea that people find his work ridiculous.

And yet, Empire Queen is a comedy. Or at least, it's obviously not taking itself very seriously. I went back and watched the music videos this morning and the difference is striking because those are played completely straight, and the dumb, dumb narrative is clearly being played out in a much more elaborate form. Clearly the story had to be boiled down to its absolute essentials to give us Empire Queen (and yet we still somehow got like 45 minutes of Sterling peering at crevasses in caves which like, okay).

But yeah, I genuinely believe that the story CDO originally conceived was a sweeping fantasy epic. What made him rework it in this form? Increasing comfort with the way people have perceived his work? Just the simple constraint of needing it to be 2.5 hours long? Budget? Perceived marketability? The fact that everyone involved is over 10 years older?

But imo you can still feel Arra of the Third Kingdom inside Empire Queen, trying to break free. The goofy expositional VO, the weird asides to music video content that couldn't fit in the movie. I wonder if this is the movie he really wanted to make. Certainly it's not the movie he'd have made a decade ago.

It makes me a little sad, in a way.

I think the winking is half-hearted. I think Empire Queen wishes it was earnest.

[talasterism]

Winnow Weekly, pt. 2, Inked Maps & Blue Like You

Let us start in the beginning: Winnow's three years old and he is the only child in Den Delanor, consiting of three cartographers with too much passions for maps and way less child-raising skills, even if they tried their best. Winnow grows up as an avid reader, parcour-beginner, and he's entirely oblivious that he's was born in an entirely different Den, where he lived until they sent him into Den Delanor, for one reason or another.

& of course, everything changes when a member of Den Daev'yana comes into his life to tutor him, and something clicks, and he wishes his life was slightly different.

Without acknowledging it directly for most of his childhood, Winnow felt lonely; a lot of the stories he was reading started with an independent loner who worked best alone - only to end up time after time entangled in a group of misfits just like them (and yet utterly different) and be found without knowing they were lost, and sometimes it was almost easy to think that he just happened to not relate to the main characters for that reason, that he would be different, choose differently, given the opportunity. But being home-schooled with same three adults, sets of books, and occasional clients (none of which his age) proved to strip him of the mere possibility. Until the morning of 21st of Brussendar of his 18th year of life, the day that would change his life irreversibly.

The moment he spied the door opening to a tall figure with the face as blue as his, with the nose similarily straight, hair so familiarly out of place, he felt a curiosity jump in him like a startled bird taking flight.  

Orlas Daev’yana - he first overheard sneakily and then heard officially - has heard that he is a bright young gentleman and came to discuss his potential further education, if that is alright. Now, Winnow never considered himself to be exceptionally bright - he never even did any tests and how would they hear of him being home-schooled?, but he was also not about to admit it to the person who occupied his thoughts with unreasonable intensity for such a short time (approximately 97% since he first saw her 10 minutes ago); it felt headachingly important, and it felt like an uprooting and he was suddenly yearning for fresh soil. So he politely agreed to the interview in the messily cleaned guest room, and in the process of answering Orlas’ quizzing found himself hoping she was at least a little bit impressed. The understanding of the tale of a new face was a scary task, but he was brave and hoped his hope wasn’t getting in the way of his better judgement;  but with each question they eased into each other’s presence more, like a butter slowly melting in Brussendar, and by the seventh she even quietly laughed at his comment. It was suddenly hard to not feel like he was finally winning.

She left him several textbooks, assignments, and a promise to come back. Months past, and they returned now and now, and quicker than rain, the one day together was becoming too short and months of waiting too long. But he learned a lot more, and enjoyed learning a lot more - Orlas had a distinctly better way of teaching than anyone in Den Delanor, their words laced with their own passion for the subjects, and for the art of teaching itself that was inviting.

In her presence, he felt bewitched and elated, and could do nothing but feel ecstatic about their conversations growing longer and more personal - he learned that they wanted to become a teacher (even though he thought she was one already) and she was the meanest Trivial Pursuit player in the family - and in return she heard all about his favourite books and towers in the city, and that the only board game they had was Aseza, a cooperative game of building settlements and harvesting resources which bored him to death. And so Orlas snuck in games for two to play and taught Winnow a valuable gift of him having a competitive streak (another similarity he started to over-analyse right after they left).

For almost three years they were dancing into a new routine; for almost three years Winnow was hoping it was not just him who thought themselves to be friends, but he has outgrown the times when asking such a question would be anything but embarrassing. Their routine involved meeting in different places - it started exclusively in the Delanor Den, but they slowly progressed to neutral-zone spots like teashops and public libraries and parks when the weather graced them (which was not particularly often, to be entirely fair; one summer Orlas was going through some major pollen allergies so they spent a lot of the time relocatin; the next - Winnow was catching colds with more finesse and ease than a frog catching a snack in a fly-crammed pond). There were a couple of times when he was invited to go to the Daev’yana Den - even met the whole family, although the biggest treasure was seeing Orlas’ room. Twice, he was allowed to stay for dinner and once they even played a game together - Orlas had a lot of siblings (even the littlest one was invited to the game night, although he could barely talk), a mother who hated board games and another who loved it, and a weird uncle who took way too long to decide on the next category. But everyone treated him so nicely, and the kind of fun he had was a new discovery to him, and he was so happily grateful for that night that he almost decided to start a gratitude journal that evening. On the way home, he walked almost dazed, head buzzing with questions he didn’t know how to ask, a balloon ready to burst from happinness. 

Until,---