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#the last decade of entertainment seems to have forgotten how to be entertaining
resplendentgoldenwings · 10 months
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Doctor Who, Totally Killer, the Star Trek musical episode...I'm seeing more, nonsense, fun and silliness in media and I like it!
I hope it's a trend. TV and movies have been taking themes too seriously for too long.
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livwritesstuff · 4 months
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boston pride is today so here have an edited repost from when i walked in the parade last year
Steve is getting boring in his old age (forty-four, almost).
It was inevitable, he supposes when he looks back, and he likes being boring. 
He likes the steady routine of the life he and Eddie (married for seven years, now) have built with their three daughters (four, seven, and nearly ten, a notion Steve is choosing to ignore because there’s no goddamn way Moe nearly has an entire decade under her belt already), and he doesn’t find himself making attempts to mix things up all that often.
Naturally, Eddie is the one to suggest they make the trip into Boston with their daughters for the annual Pride parade, and when he does, Steve isn’t automatically inclined to agree.
Look – Steve knows it’s important for kids to see the world and do new things and all that enriching shit, but maybe he still bears some of the scars from keeping a semi-feral pack of teenagers alive amidst the eldritch hellscape of their hometown, and it’s not like they don’t keep themselves entertained at home – Hazel had finally got the gist of Go-Fish not too long ago and that’s been a whole new ballgame Steve is perfectly content to continue exploring.
In the end, however, the logical side of him (and Eddie’s ever-persistent badgering) wins out, and come mid-June of 2011, they all make the drive into Boston to see the parade.
It doesn’t take Steve long at all to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He hadn’t been to Pride in many years (again – he’s boring in his old age), and he’d forgotten how much fun it is – a true celebration of love and happiness in the face of a lot of fucked up shit and all that. The parade’s pretty good too (definitely a few floats he hopes the girls are too distracted chasing after candy to notice and ask questions about later, but only time will tell), and so is the festival afterwards. It ends up being a really great time for all of them.
Of the whole day, though, Steve’s favorite part is the trip home, a drive that should have only been thirty minutes, but turns into nearly two hours with all the traffic on I-90.
The girls are still riding the sugar rush of an afternoon’s worth of lemonade and fried dough and candy thrown from parade floats (Hazel might be succumbing though, if Steve’s quick glances in the rear-view mirror at the way her eyes are drooping closed are anything to go off of), and it seems as if the day’s contagious joy had followed them into the car. Robbie and Moe have been asking a lot of questions – mostly chatter about what floats were everyone’s favorites and who got the best face paint until Moe, perceptive as she’s always been, hits them with, “What’s Pride for?”
Which turns into, “Why do people think it’s a bad thing?” and that becomes, “So how did you and Papa fall in love?” at which point Eddie, who’d been fielding their daughters' questions so Steve could keep his focus on the stop-and-go highway traffic, launches into a dramatic and involved retelling of how their relationship had begun nearly eighteen years ago.
“So I told him that I liked him and what do you think Papa said?” Eddie eventually asks as he approaches the end of the story.
“What?” the girls ask with eager smiles and wide eyes.
“Nothing,” Eddie says ruthlessly, a wicked grin on his face.
“Alright,” Steve cuts in over the laughter coming from the backseat, “Let’s not be dramatic. I said something...eventually, and it wasn’t even that long later – four hours tops.”
“That’s right,” Eddie concedes, “And then we all lived happily ever after and all that jazz.”
“Good,” Robbie says, “’Cos if you hadn’t, today wouldn’t happen.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweet pea,” Steve replies, “but I’m pretty sure Pride would still happen even if Dad and I weren’t there for it.”
“We wouldn’t be here," Moe corrects him, "All together.”
Steve blinks.
Jesus Christ, these kids are gonna be the death of him. Can’t drive the damn car if his eyes are misting over, can he?
“Yeah,” Eddie says as he reaches over to curve his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, “Yeah, bug, that’s true.”
And thanks goodness for that.
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cakesandfail · 1 year
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Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?
Actually yes I do!
I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:
There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement
That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)
Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy
So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:
Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.
This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.
And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.
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nahoyasboyfriend · 6 months
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Not an ask, just a Jamie imagine for you.
Year 1992. James was aware that it was the end of the golden era for serial killers; very few true sickos left on this Earth to do his bidding. His darling wife's favourite era was the 70s, and so was his - the most depraved men could enact their violent fantasies on unsuspecting victims, and he could consult them on their insanity. If he deemed them worthy, they'd become part of his soirée on Devil's Night, but not all were invited. Somehow, he knew most of America's more prolific killers, as the energy of Cortez seemed to lure them in. But he only invited his friends, his comrades, his brothers in sin.
In 1992, he was sure he was the last of his kind, the last true serial killer left. And he kept searching for new victims. Over the years, he had them less and less frequently. Thrice a week or more when he was alive, about weekly in the 40s and 50s, two a month the next decade, moving to about 5 a year in the 90s. Entertaining people were hard to come by, and his old methods couldn't satisfy his hunger anymore. He was tired of unsuspecting prey; he needed the chase, the game, the hunt to last longer.
He planned this quite meticulously, and his plan was to come to fruition when you walked into the hotel, announcing to the receptionist thst you'll be staying here for two weeks, all alone. Oh, your boyfriend? He left you a few months ago, leaving you depressed, desperate and with quite low self esteem. A perfect target. After a few days at the hotel, you knew something was... off. The bartender was mysterious and gave you hints about the paranormal activity here. You've always believed in spirits, but surely they couldn't ever harm anyone? They were just that, spirits.
After about three days, you started getting scared for real - nightmares, creepy sounds, blood stains that appear and disappear. You were also quite lonely, arriving to the hotel because of a friend's recommendation, yet you had no one to talk to in all of LA. All the spooking was, of course, orchestrated by James. He wanted you vulnerable and delicate for him.
He started talking to you a week after you moved in to your room. A charming, albeit eccentric gentleman he was. Never making advances towards you and always knowing what to talk about. He seemed well-read and intelligent, but also unsettling somehow, fake, as if all his emotions were play pretend. But you, lonely and abandoned, felt attracted to him. So for the next week, you two met up regularly at the hotel bar. He even led you to your room once, and didn't try to invite himself in. Never even suggested sex. You started to wish that he did... he was incredibly attractive and sweet, after all. You were sad when your stay was up, you wanted to stay here longer with the man. So, he paid for your extended stay - just another week. You were too enamored to doubt him, as you two were practically dating already. He introduced himself as James March, told you he was an architect, specializing in the art deco design style. That explained his outdated attire, right? He was amazing at shushing your concerns about him. His cold hands? Oh, low iron levels, my dear, such a nuissance. The lack of knowledge on modern culture and television? Ah, he is just more of a book person, coming from a traditional, intelligent family. He was clearly well off, too. Perfect man.
After the additional week was up, you gave him your phone number and promised to call frequently, maybe meet up. He asked you for one last drink. You agreed, despite how strangely excited he was. Shouldn't he be sad you were leaving?...
"Darling, you have forgotten your suitcase... yes you have, see? Oh, it appears that the drinks proved too strong for you. Yes, I will help you to your room, sweetheart."
You had no idea the drink was spiked. You also had no idea when he led you to room 78 instead of yours, too hazy from whatever drug he dosed you with. When you woke up, you were tied. Your hands above your head, and you stood on a stool. If he removed that stool, you'd be hanging by your hands. The sudden disturbance would cause your shoulders to dislocate and cause unbearable pain... wait, why were you thinking about that? Shouldn't you be getting away?
You looked around, and there he was, sitting on a chaise-lounge and smoking a pipe. He was smiling. You panicked, but stayed silent, waiting for an explanation.
"You've come to your senses, dearest, how wonderful." He pulled a knife out of his cane and you almost stumbled off the stool, "You are in for an amazing night... maybe another day, too. I have been aching for something... different, you see."
He stood up and approached you, blowing the aromatic smoke in your face, making you frown and tremble. Your James did this?... your charming, sweet, one-of-a-kind James Patrick March? Why?...
He smiled. Oh, your panic. So sweet. Oh, he would savor this expression of yours, your delicious fear. You had no idea who he was, had you? He gripped your waist, making you flinch, yet the familiarity of his touch made you feel safe as well as aroused. It was strange.
"You will suffer quite a bit, as my delicate dessert, but I want you to know, you are my most special and cherished prey. It will be an honour having you in my hotel for all of eternity, by my side.", he stated with that charming smile of his.
After that, he began.
-love, Nika
Sorry if it's messy! I wrote it in like 30mins, and on my phone and barely edited😭 I'll write you a part 2 if ur interested <3 bcs I'm always eager to talk about him. Feel free to publish this ask or keep it, whatever u prefer.
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beautifulgiants · 1 year
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Article in link or read below:
We Are Entering Into the Josh Hartnett-aissance
BY LIAM GAUGHAN
PUBLISHED JUL 28, 2023
Are we seeing Josh Hartnett's comeback?
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like a movie star’s face can sell a movie on its own anymore — unless you happen to be Tom Cruise. While this is tough news for the stars of this generation (apologies to all four Chrises), it’s even more disappointing for the actors that were iconic in the early 20th century that no longer have the same draw over audiences. Young, charismatic leading men who once starred in action films, romantic comedies, and major blockbusters are now left to fend for minor roles in either independent projects or television shows; it’s been a while since we heard from Ryan Philippe, Ashton Kutcher, Jim Sturgess, or Hayden Christensen in a major, lasting way.
However, Josh Hartnett has had a surprising comeback in the past year thanks to his roles in the sixth season of Black Mirror and Christopher Nolan’s historical masterpiece Oppenheimer. These roles suggest that the “Joshaissance” is about to take Hollywood by storm, and it’s about time that Hartnett’s talents are finally being rewarded and praised.
Josh Hartnett’s Career Had an Ambitious Beginning
While Hartnett’s name is often thrown around as yet another forgotten heartthrob of yesteryear, his career was one that started out in a very ambitious place. Hartnett managed to crawl his way out of the Halloween franchise after his debut role in 1998’s Halloween H20: 20 Years Later, preventing himself from being stuck with the series for the disastrous Halloween: Resurrection. His next horror film wasn’t in a major franchise, but with a rising auteur in Robert Rodriguez via The Faculty. The role showed the versatility that Hartnett had at his disposal; not only could he play a compelling teenage protagonist in a fun horror film with a tone akin to Scream, but he could deal with some of the weirder decisions that Rodriguez made in order for the film to feel so unique compared to other teen monster movies.
Before Hartnett started becoming a mainstream romantic comedy icon, he worked with several more significant directors. Another role that showed the range of his abilities was Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides; it’s a film that revolves around how young men perceive beauty and innocence, and how misguided their beliefs on love and romance really are. However, Coppola allows Hartnett’s character Trip Fontaine to be one that the audience can feel sorry for, as his feelings for the girls are genuine, and the sense of danger that he adds to their lives feels exciting, and not toxic. It’s a multifaceted role that once again required Hartnett to fit within the parameters of Coppola’s commentary and play the role of a traditionally charismatic leading man.
Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor isn’t a film that anyone is particularly proud of, but Hartnett’s decision to join the film is completely understandable; what actor of his age would turn down the opportunity to star in a major World War II epic (only a few years after Saving Private Ryan) from the director of The Rock and Bad Boys? Hartnett certainly sells the melodrama better than Ben Affleck and manages to add a touch of emotion to a largely soulless action spectacle. Adding charisma to a project that lacked it before is something that Hartnett began to make a habit of; in the next decade of his career, he made rather generic romantic comedies like Blow Dry, Mozart and the Whale, 40 Days and 40 Nights, and Town & Country more entertaining thanks to his personality.
Even when appearing in mainstream films, Hartnett clearly had the ambition to work on more ambitious projects. He tried his hand at something far more unsettling than The Faculty with the gruesome vampire film 30 Days of Night and worked with Rodriguez again for an intimidating role in Sin City. Even some of his failed prospects suggested good intentions on Hartnett’s part; he got to work on a Brian De Palma movie (even if it was The Black Dahlia), co-starred with Harrison Ford (even if it was the disastrous Hollywood Homicide), and tried more than once to work with Nolan.
Netflix’s science fiction anthology series Black Mirror has an affinity for casting A-listers, even if they’re stardom may have faded in recent memory. While Season 6 was a mixed bag that contained some of the show’s most biting commentary and its worst clichés, the standout episode by far was the 1960s space romance “Beyond the Sea.” It served as a surprising comeback for Hartnett, who showed a true villainous, toxic side to himself that has never been seen in any of his previous work. Hartnett isn’t a mustache-twirling supervillain; he appears as David, a lonely astronaut whose family is killed by a cult leader (Rory Culkin) and longs for someone to care for him in their absence. It’s when David starts crossing the line of consent in his quest to heal that Hartnett transforms him from being sympathetic to scary.
Hartnett finally got his chance to work with Nolan in Oppenheimer, a film that co-stars many once promising young leading men whose careers have hit a standstill, including Josh Peck, Alden Ehrenreich, Scott Grimes, Dane DeHaan, Alex Wolff, and Jack Quaid. Hartnett showed maturity himself with his performance as Ernest Lawrence; while he’s friendly with Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and even supports some of his more experimental propositions, he’s also deeply skeptical about any political movements that arise in the laboratory. Hartnett shows these convictions as unrelated to Lawrence’s personal stance; he simply wants to avoid distractions and keep the experiments objective. It’s an understated, subtle role; while Oppenheimer’s Best Supporting Actor campaign during the Academy Award season will likely revolve around both Robert Downey Jr. and Matt Damon, Hartnett is no less worthy.
2023 was a year when Hartnett recognized his talents and chose to challenge himself once more; he even managed to lampoon his own stardom with a self-referential role in Guy Ritchie’s action comedy Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre as the goofy action star Danny Francesco. Hartnett’s absence from mainstream projects was just a brief setback; he’s now reached the most interesting point of his career, and it’ll be exciting to see where the “Joshaisssance” goes next.
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denimbex1986 · 1 year
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'Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like a movie star’s face can sell a movie on its own anymore — unless you happen to be Tom Cruise. While this is tough news for the stars of this generation (apologies to all four Chrises), it’s even more disappointing for the actors that were iconic in the early 20th century that no longer have the same draw over audiences. Young, charismatic leading men who once starred in action films, romantic comedies, and major blockbusters are now left to fend for minor roles in either independent projects or television shows; it’s been a while since we heard from Ryan Philippe, Ashton Kutcher, Jim Sturgess, or Hayden Christensen in a major, lasting way.
However, Josh Hartnett has had a surprising comeback in the past year thanks to his roles in the sixth season of Black Mirror and Christopher Nolan’s historical masterpiece Oppenheimer. These roles suggest that the “Joshaissance” is about to take Hollywood by storm, and it’s about time that Hartnett’s talents are finally being rewarded and praised.
Josh Hartnett’s Career Had an Ambitious Beginning
While Hartnett’s name is often thrown around as yet another forgotten heartthrob of yesteryear, his career was one that started out in a very ambitious place. Hartnett managed to crawl his way out of the Halloween franchise after his debut role in 1998’s Halloween H20: 20 Years Later, preventing himself from being stuck with the series for the disastrous Halloween: Resurrection. His next horror film wasn’t in a major franchise, but with a rising auteur in Robert Rodriguez via The Faculty. The role showed the versatility that Hartnett had at his disposal; not only could he play a compelling teenage protagonist in a fun horror film with a tone akin to Scream, but he could deal with some of the weirder decisions that Rodriguez made in order for the film to feel so unique compared to other teen monster movies.
Before Hartnett started becoming a mainstream romantic comedy icon, he worked with several more significant directors. Another role that showed the range of his abilities was Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides; it’s a film that revolves around how young men perceive beauty and innocence, and how misguided their beliefs on love and romance really are. However, Coppola allows Hartnett’s character Trip Fontaine to be one that the audience can feel sorry for, as his feelings for the girls are genuine, and the sense of danger that he adds to their lives feels exciting, and not toxic. It’s a multifaceted role that once again required Hartnett to fit within the parameters of Coppola’s commentary and play the role of a traditionally charismatic leading man.
Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor isn’t a film that anyone is particularly proud of, but Hartnett’s decision to join the film is completely understandable; what actor of his age would turn down the opportunity to star in a major World War II epic (only a few years after Saving Private Ryan) from the director of The Rock and Bad Boys? Hartnett certainly sells the melodrama better than Ben Affleck and manages to add a touch of emotion to a largely soulless action spectacle. Adding charisma to a project that lacked it before is something that Hartnett began to make a habit of; in the next decade of his career, he made rather generic romantic comedies like Blow Dry, Mozart and the Whale, 40 Days and 40 Nights, and Town & Country more entertaining thanks to his personality.
Even when appearing in mainstream films, Hartnett clearly had the ambition to work on more ambitious projects. He tried his hand at something far more unsettling than The Faculty with the gruesome vampire film 30 Days of Night and worked with Rodriguez again for an intimidating role in Sin City. Even some of his failed prospects suggested good intentions on Hartnett’s part; he got to work on a Brian De Palma movie (even if it was The Black Dahlia), co-starred with Harrison Ford (even if it was the disastrous Hollywood Homicide), and tried more than once to work with Nolan.
Josh Hartnett Has Been Making a Comeback This Year
Netflix’s science fiction anthology series Black Mirror has an affinity for casting A-listers, even if they’re stardom may have faded in recent memory. While Season 6 was a mixed bag that contained some of the show’s most biting commentary and its worst clichés, the standout episode by far was the 1960s space romance “Beyond the Sea.” It served as a surprising comeback for Hartnett, who showed a true villainous, toxic side to himself that has never been seen in any of his previous work. Hartnett isn’t a mustache-twirling supervillain; he appears as David, a lonely astronaut whose family is killed by a cult leader (Rory Culkin) and longs for someone to care for him in their absence. It’s when David starts crossing the line of consent in his quest to heal that Hartnett transforms him from being sympathetic to scary.
Hartnett finally got his chance to work with Nolan in Oppenheimer, a film that co-stars many once promising young leading men whose careers have hit a standstill, including Josh Peck, Alden Ehrenreich, Scott Grimes, Dane DeHaan, Alex Wolff, and Jack Quaid. Hartnett showed maturity himself with his performance as Ernest Lawrence; while he’s friendly with Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and even supports some of his more experimental propositions, he’s also deeply skeptical about any political movements that arise in the laboratory. Hartnett shows these convictions as unrelated to Lawrence’s personal stance; he simply wants to avoid distractions and keep the experiments objective. It’s an understated, subtle role; while Oppenheimer’s Best Supporting Actor campaign during the Academy Award season will likely revolve around both Robert Downey Jr. and Matt Damon, Hartnett is no less worthy.
2023 was a year when Hartnett recognized his talents and chose to challenge himself once more; he even managed to lampoon his own stardom with a self-referential role in Guy Ritchie’s action comedy Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre as the goofy action star Danny Francesco. Hartnett’s absence from mainstream projects was just a brief setback; he’s now reached the most interesting point of his career, and it’ll be exciting to see where the “Joshaisssance” goes next.'
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csmelody · 2 years
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haunted
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Welcome to my (mad) attempt at finishing all the prompts for Bart prompt week 2023. These will all be drabbles because I am married in all but proper paperwork to TLA. Also, I’ve never read or watched Lockwood & co. Please don’t spoil me, I’ll be forced to haunt you for life.
Read on AO3.
fandom: Bartimaeus Trilogy
rating: teen
pairing: bartnat if you squint
day 2 - day 3 - day 4 - day 5 - day 6 - day 7
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Day 1 — haunted
Thorn Manor had long ceased to house mirrors.
The master and mistress of the ancient London home, motivated by a scare with scrying mirrors a few years back, had decided to take the drastic approach and save themselves the trouble in the future. Built for intimidating whoever dared to stand at the gate, the estate donned watchful gargoyles, black iron gates and fences two metres tall, trees with gnarly branches, unkempt bushes filled with blood-red roses clad in thorns.
So it was no surprise that rumours of a haunting presence began circulating soon after the scrying disaster.
At night, while master and mistress slept, a lone human figure could be seen strolling—nay, floating—from third to first floor before it again vanished from sight. Every night the same. Some claimed it had to be the ghost of a child, somehow forever trapped in this mysterious building. Others would swear it was too big to be a child—a young man seemed more likely. As the living occupants of the house were rather tall, or not the right species at all, they were quickly discounted.
Regardless of how often and however Mr and Mrs Thorn attempted to dispel the rumours, they had taken a life of their own. But neither believed them. And neither was bothered. Magicians attracted too much attention; it was a profession with high social demands. Having to entertain fewer guests was not much of a loss. And managing to survive in a haunted estate did wonders for their already healthy reputation.
On it went.
As the clock struck twelve, as the human residents dreamt, and as the hearth drew its last breaths, the cat jumped off its place on the windowsill. But paws never landed on the crimson carpet, only two bare golden feet, held by knobby knees and thin thighs. Two moles on the thin neck, two otherworldly amber eyes. A faded scar cutting beneath the chin. Dark hair fashioned in a style long forgotten. The boy padded across the room, a slim, bony hand turning the copper doorknob.
And the ritual began.
I moved through the long corridors of Thorn Manor, dim light casting long shadows. Varnished banisters and carpeted stairs awaited. Past windows I strolled, past dozens of dark oak doors left unopened for many a decade, ancient dust clinging stubbornly to every nook and cranny of the estate.
In the morning, the rumours would reignite. But the night was mine alone.
Thorn Manor had long ceased to house mirrors. Yet, a magician must always be prepared. Some creatures would only be defeated by a reflection. Others needed it to stay.
One room held them all, from the tallest, full-body piece to the tiniest hand mirror. Oval, rectangular, round, or square-shaped, with simple wooden framing, or the most intrinsically complex metalwork. The room vibrated with their biting coldness, hints of incense, rosemary and thyme still claiming this space as their own, where magic had once bled from every wall. But master and mistress seldom visited anymore. The summons could be done elsewhere.
I matched my footsteps to those on the floorboards, dust and cat hair delineating the day-old tracks. The lithe body was ideal for moving between mirrors, feline reflexes keeping me from touching any of them. In the centre, a circle. Or rather, a faded pentacle outlined by inward facing mirrors. And in all of them I saw him.
Pale skin, raven hair, thin body caged in a black suit so tight it would have asphyxiated a less stubborn man. The magician in the mirror adjusted his cuffs, blood-red lips set in a stern line, brow permanently vexed. Deep burn blue and a signal fire in his eyes. And a voice that had been silenced five decades prior.
“Hello, Bartimaeus.”
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artylo · 1 year
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After Five Years
After five years, I looked into her eyes and that girl was gone. The girl that knew me best, the one I had only ever grown fonder of over the last ten years. What peered back at me was a different woman – a woman who had been so desperate for me to never notice. It finally became clear to me why she had been so apprehensive about meeting all this time. The way she would avert her gaze, so that I could not dispel all doubt, that the girl I knew and adored was no longer standing there with me. Only a fading reminder of who I used to be. What I had been talking to over the last half a decade was a ghost of my own past – one she no longer embodied in earnest, but nonetheless kept up as a charade, so that we might keep what little we had in common tending the light at the end of the tunnel.
It had been so long that all I could remember of her were vague smudged shapes, resembling nothing more but a deteriorated and withered image of her. No new memories had formed over such a long time, I was beginning to worry it might not all be true. My eyes ate up every detail of her like a starved beast, clawing for every morsel it could get its hands on. A visage once forgotten, now renewed with little conjecture. Yet, for her, the significance of this event seemed to be yet another footnote in an already busy day.
As she turned her back on me and began talking with her acquaintances – ones that I neither knew, nor was introduced to. As she eagerly tapped away at her phone, visibly impatient, the only thought that ran through my head was to bolt. Run away from here as fast as possible. “You are nobody here anymore.”, it said. “Make this all go away.” There was no longing to match my own. No fears over missed opportunities, no dread over an ever-growing distance.
All she did was keep on typing, messaging someone she probably heard from day in and day out. Someone she had seen several times in the last week, month, year. Someone who was obviously closer to her than I would ever be from now on, and perhaps had already been so for even longer.
I could barely listen to what was being said. My mind was rushing with all manner of pained thoughts and shattered expectations, culminating in one desperate unspoken sentence: “I won’t wait another five years for this.”
And then he came, and they kissed - as if I should have known. There was all that warmth I could no longer see with my own eyes. All of this busywork that had made our chances to meet null and void was no more than an elaborate smear campaign. One orchestrated specifically to avoid the reaction I was currently taking the full brunt of. Every fibre of my body felt like death. It was almost pathetic. I had let it happen again. I had let my best friend turn me into a fool once more. All of those pleasantries, passionate exchanges, deep sincere hear-to-heart conversations were nothing more than having your cake and eating it.  I could no longer even entertain the thought of being there for her. At that moment I died and came back, as if awakening from a long dream. Unfettered by sentimentality or want, as that old version of me that had felt this before. Its tongue split in two, as it spit venom, hatred, repulsion, as it began thinking of revenge, of cruelty. My own Ahab, stabbing away from hell’s heart.
Not a word, not an expression, I broke off. No one seemed to notice.
I sat alone on a wet bench in the garden grounds, as more content individuals around me spoke colloquially to each other. My phone began buzzing, but I couldn’t bear to look at it. It could have been a call that would change my life and I still wouldn’t pick it up. All I could do is sit there, unblinking, filled with every emotion my body knew how to synthesize. Every moment we had shared, I tore to shreds. Trent Reznor understood me. Johnny Rotten understood me. The both offered solace to an aching mind with words which I was finally able to meet half-way.
I blinked twice and sat in an uncomfortable chair, surrounded by grins on all sides, in a room that was as baroque as it was large. It echoed every sound, including the ones no one else could hear. I clapped. I clapped for hours as everyone’s name was called, even her – especially her. The echoes of his claps meeting the back of my head with a deafening thud. They were having the best day of their lives and I wanted nothing to do with it. I was no longer there for her. I wasn’t there for me either. It was everyone else. I sat there until the very last person had gone and left.
I picked up my bag and left, in a rush. I dared not look behind, as if embodying some contemporary image of Orpheus on his way out of Hades. Then I looked, on purpose, so that it may all fade away to nothingness. Every step along those long winding stairs screeched as every muscle in my body followed my only desire – to get away as fast as possible. Hiding, like a rat, evading her every gaze. I walked for hours in any direction that came to mind. Parks, roads, buildings all blended in.
Another two blinks and I was leaning against a wall in a long corridor that was devoid of all life. One of those spaces that is only ever traversed - never a destination. Slowly standing became slouching, slouching became sliding, and sliding became sitting. Every piece of fabric on me was either choking me or making my own heat even greater. The only compassion I was to see that day was when a cleaning lady passed by and asked me if I was feeling well. What could I say to her? Regardless, it came out as “Oh, I’m just waiting.”
Two more blinks and I was outside in the pouring rain, no longer walking in any direction, but walking home. I felt no fatigue, no inkling of pain – just dull down to the bone. More parks, more roads. Eventually I get home as my cat stares at me from the top of the flight of stairs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, I ask her. And as she rubs against my now-aching legs I look at her and think: “Maybe you did.”
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grandhotelabyss · 1 year
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Was just reading your now nearly decade old piece on “Penitential Realism”- I dig the term, it’s probably a more useful way to look at the (still) currently prevailing vein of literary fiction than the other term one often hears (and irresponsibly throws around.)* I wonder if you’d add anything to it ten years on- how do you see your idea having held up, what would you add or subtract from it?
* Autofiction, sure but Renata Adler is autofiction if anybody is, and Speedboat is a delightfully funny book, whereas it’s that bruised, wounded confusion we’re expected to take deadly-seriously that I suppose really bugs me about so much of this stuff, especially knowing the class of person who produces it. (Not saying you can only write what you know of course, but part of why Beckett works is that he actually beheld the burning cities- but even then think of Vonnegut, who I don’t really like either)
Thanks—the reference is to an essay of mine from 10 years ago (!) trying to define the prevailing mood of then-contemporary fiction after the waning of what James Wood had called "hysterical realism."
I think the piece holds up well enough, except that some of the books, hyped at the time, are now forgotten, which fortifies me in my resolve not to read hyped-up new fiction lest I fall for another Submergence.
I like almost every book on that list less now than I did then, and I didn't like a lot of them then. I exempt Ishiguro, who possesses an ineffable genius irreducible to categories, and won't judge late DeLillo too harshly given the strength of his best work; I've always been ambivalent about Sebald, finding him gimmicky and even somewhat tacky with his "after Auschwitz" mode of goth glamor, though he is, in his way, entertaining; Coetzee was an enthusiasm I haven't been able to sustain, and I suspect I liked him as much as I did at one point less on the actual strength of his work (so dry, so spare!) than because of the types of positions his work allowed one to take in academe (i.e., burdened by conscience but still formalist and non-Marxist), which I no longer care about at all; I have no opinions about the other novels on the list nor do I even really remember them. I don't have the same ambition to survey my contemporaries the way I did then; I'm too (apologizes to the forgotten Ledgard) submerged in my own work and its dialogue with the literary dead and the unliterary present.
I will say this: I've recently mentioned Leave Society and My Year of Rest and Relaxation. These might be the two most prominent American literary novels of the last half decade. They actually found a popular or pop-cult audience and were even read across the political spectrum. They superficially seem to resemble penitential realism—they're short and benumbed and burdened with suffering—except that each is its way finally light, affirmative, wholly jailbroken, in a way that the prior books aren't, even thought the "out" in both cases is somewhat mystical (Li's psychedelia, Year girl's perceptual awakening). It occurs to me that this is also true in its heavier Dostoevskean way of Coetzee's Jesus trilogy, which concluded in the same period, and of Ishiguro's strangely luminous fable Klara and the Sun, too. An open mysticism or sense of the numinous or even religiosity seems to be coming in.
This turn to the beyond is probably a step in the right direction, but still, a lot of new books seem—I rarely finish new books—to be very "I" oriented and small. I almost want to say, "Come back, hysterical realism, all is forgiven!" Not really; the flaws Wood noted in that mode were there, especially its facetiousness in figures like Rushdie, Pynchon, and Wallace (not DeLillo).
As the polemical, almost belligerent omniscience of Major Arcana indicates, however, I believe it's time to maximize and to universalize again—to "affirm and persist" as the manifestation coaches say. Writing little "me" stories won't save us from the fact that writing is a hostile act (as Didion told us) and an arrogant one (as Vidal maintained). If we're going to presume to write at all, we might as well try to wrestle the whole world to the ground—and not in a cell, but in the open air.
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sodomyordeath · 2 years
Text
The Hellscape that is youtube
I accidentally klicked the "explore" tab on youtube and that convinced me that this planet needs to be cleansed in a nuclear fire.
From utterly trivial "life hacks" to mindnumbingly stupid "entertainment". Only a bullet hole in the head is more fun.
And that's what you all are watching?
Life is not a competition in who's the dumbest that can get must other dummies watch 'em shitting the bed. Unless you are a "creator" or an "influencer" it seems.
Maybe all youtube needs is a new tab with content for people with a attention span above 7 seconds and an IQ above room temperature (in °C).
Thereis a bunch of really good content on yt created by people who are actually entertaining and good at what they are doing.
Names like Christopher Barnatt (all things computers for people of almost all levels of knowledge), Jessie Earl and Vera Wylde (both regular "geek" stuff mostly film and tv). Abigail Thorn (philosophy), Mia Mulder (history, politics), Jay Will (entertainment), Alok Kanojia (mantal health), Cass Eris (cognitive psychology), Justin King ( journalism) and many many more come to mind.
In fact some of the more "special interrest" channels are really good. For people who are getting into shooting Tacticool Girlfriend is a good place. Forgotten Weapons by Ian McCollum is a treasure trove. Heared about an obscure firearm from the last 150 years, chances are there's a video of Ian taking that thing apart and explaining, on detail how it works and what makes it special, or not. The dry sense of humor is also very welcome.
Elizabeth Zharoff's "The Charismatic Voice" never fails to crack me up with her joy and deep deep passion for the art of singing and the love for music. She probably forgot more about singing than I ever knew (I only have 3+ decades of experience as a vocalist)
Anyways youtube seems to be good in pushing shit to people who are happy to consume shit for everyone else it's of no use.
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casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years
Text
HEART'S DESIRE - CHAPTER 12
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*Warning: Adult Content*   
No one in Montreal Hunter’s family likes to fly. 
Noah Hunter gets sick every time and Freya Hunter hates sitting still and standing in lines. 
Monty takes up two seats ‘even then it's not comfortable’ and somehow Alpha Dane Hunter always gets flagged by airport security. 
When he was a cop he could just flash his badge and say 'fuck off' in so many words but now he has to go through the same shit as everyone else. 
In this case, though, Monty and Dane would gladly opt for the two-hour flight over the twenty-hour drive from California to Montana but they each have liabilities. 
For Dane, it's his mate, Julian Hate and their children, they draw stares and the sight of two men traveling together with two unnaturally beautiful children is sure to attract unwanted attention. 
And it's not as if Luna and Luca Hunter have proper birth certificates to prove their fathers' parenthood. 
For Monty, it's Kit Montraine. 
He's got no ID, as far as official records are concerned, he doesn't exist and people like that aren't allowed on planes. 
And so they drive. 
They take Monty’s car, the Navigator's big enough to seat them all and Dane and he take turns at the wheel while Kit helps Julian keep the twins entertained. 
As they pass over the majestic, tree-lined mountains of California and into the relative barrenness of Nevada, then up and into the wilds of Idaho and finally into the rugged lands of Montana, they grow increasingly quiet and tense. 
Even the twins sense something is wrong and only fuss when they're sleepy, or when they want Kit to play with them. 
It helps when Julian sings to them in Fae. 
He says he didn't learn the tongue on purpose but picked it up naturally during his stay there, as if it was something he'd always known and had merely forgotten over time. 
As they near their destination, their unease and anxiety increases. 
Dane has the driver's seat, which gives Monty’s mind the freedom to wander. 
Their parents' land, about ten square miles that's been in Monty’s mom's family for generations, is in the northern part of the state. 
It's 'ranch' land but his parents keep it wild, a home for wolves. 
There are high hills and low vales, forests and fields and flat plains crisscrossed by creeks and streams. 
It seemed like an endless wilderness when Monty was a kid, 'adventuring' out here, in the green of spring and the heat of summer, the decadence of fall and the chill of winter and always there was the house, waiting to welcome me when he got tired and hungry and wanted to go home. 
The house, with its low, ranch-style roof and wrap-around porch, the big drafty kitchen with its high ceiling beams and cool stone floors, where his dad taught him how to cook, his room, with the custom-made desk where he'd sat as an over-grown teenager, struggling through his homework while rain streaked the window with a view of the woods. 
The house, which is gone now, along with his parents. 
Monty hasn't spoken to either of them recently and can't remember the last thing he said to them. 
And if it was the last thing he ever said to them... Dane taps his knee. 
He looks down and  see he's holding a paper napkin from their last fast-food stop. 
Then Monty realizes his face is wet. 
He takes the napkin and dries his eyes. Dane glances in the rear view mirror. 
The twins are sleeping in their booster seats and Julian and Kit sit in the back row, each looking out the window on their side.
"Try to keep it together," Dane mutters, glancing at me. 
"They're gonna need your strength, Sasha and Martin, too."
Montreal Hunter nods, slips his sunglasses from his front shirt pocket and put them on. 
It's a trick he learned as a bodyguard, if people can't see your eyes, they can't read your expression.
 Another thing he’s learned is that when you're big and physically strong, people assume you're emotionally strong, too or at least they think you should be. 
You're supposed to be the rock, the foundation, the pillar that lets everyone else be vulnerable and soft. 
The big guy who cries isn't tragic, he's the comic relief or else he's just pathetic. 
So, as Dane advises, Monty tries not to let anyone see. 
They pass the signpost that marks the border of their parents' land and a few miles further, they turn off on the private road that winds through it in a loop. 
Their parents' house is or was, down on the southeast side but Dane follows the road counterclockwise and turns west. 
There are two other houses on this land. 
One belongs to their brother, Martin and the other to their sister, Sasha. 
It's not uncommon for Wolves to stick close together, even when kids grow up and start families of their own and there's plenty of room for them all here, if they wanted it. 
Martin Hunter and his mate, Elena, already have four kids and no room to spare, so they head for Sasha's place. 
She's got a big house, simple and unassuming but roomy. 
It looks like a big log cabin with two stories and a gabled roof. 
As they pull up, Monty sees a row of cars outside. 
Martin's Prius is here and Monty spots Freya's motorcycle parked beneath a tree. 
The others he doesn't recognize, Sasha's and her mate's, probably. 
They all come out to greet them as they disembark, having heard the low rumble of the old Nav's engine.
Sasha and her mate lead the charge, with Freya and Martin hanging behind. 
Martin looks a bit like Noah but taller and more sturdily built, while Sasha got the most of our mother's light tones. 
She has dense, chestnut-colored curls, honey-brown skin with a dusting of cinnamon freckles and amber eyes that catch the sun with the blaze of autumn leaves. 
With a full figure, bright smile and a laugh that lights the room, she's easy to fall in love with. 
It's a wonder she didn't find her mate sooner but she only met him about eight months ago. 
As for him, Monty hasn't even met him in person, until now, that is.
"Dane, Monty," Sasha exclaims, wrapping them each in a quick, soft hug.
 Her usual smile is nowhere in sight, though and the marks of recent tears stain her cheeks. 
"Oh. And sweet Juju and the Faebies."
She embraces Julian next, interrupting him as he unbuckles Luna and Luca from their car seats. 
Julian smiles and murmurs a greeting in return, but scowls at Dane over his shoulder. 
Freya had bestowed that nickname on him and it had stuck, at least among their family but Julian's not fond of it.
"And who's this?" Sasha asks, releasing Julian and spotting Kit where he stands at Monty’s back.
"Uh..." 
Monty glances at Dane but he just narrows his eyes and nods at his brother, trusting him to handle it. 
"This is Kit. He's, um... He's my... Well, he's staying with..."
Sasha's eyes go wide and she catches Monty by the shoulders.
"Oh my Lord of the Hunt. Monty..."
Monty raises his hands, seeing the misunderstanding in progress but it's like a car crash or some other horrible accident, where everything seems like it's in slow motion and yet you're helpless to stop it.
"No, he's not—"
"Your Mate?" Sasha squeals and pulls Monty into another, much tighter embrace. 
"Oh, Monty. Congratulations," she says, taking a shuddering breath and lets him go, wiping at her eyes. 
"Oh, Gods... I wish it were under better circumstances. I wish... Well..." 
She pats Monty’s arm. 
"When the time's right, we'll celebrate properly, 'kay? You and me and..." 
She looks at Kit, who looks back at her with wide, black eyes.
"Kit," Monty supplies, weakly.
Monty: ‘At least I don't have to explain what he is or where he came from.’
"Kit. Oh, goodness, what a perfect name." 
Sasha reaches for Kit, intending to include him in a hug as well ‘Wolves being physical creatures’ and Kit simultaneously shies away, ducking behind Monty’s back. 
Thinking fast ‘Or as fast as he can’ Monty catches his sister by the shoulders and pulls her back into a hug before releasing her quickly.
"Thank you, sister," he says. 
"But... I haven't met your own Mate, yet. Won't you introduce us?"
Sasha laughs and wipes at her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Monty," she apologizes and taking a breath, shuts her eyes. 
"Everything's just... so messed up right now. Yes, let me introduce you. This is my... well, this is Jake Nash."
She steps aside and gestures to the man who's been standing at her back all the while. 
He's tall ‘not as tall as Monty but 'normal' tall’ blond and his blue eyes glint in the sun. 
He looks like a stunt double for any number of actors who fit the mold, trim and muscular, handsome in a generic, boxed-brand kind of way. 
He's also, quite obviously, a Wolf.
"Uh... Hi," Monty says. 
"Nice to meet you."
Jake Nash nods and takes Monty’s hand, maintaining a grim countenance.
"Likewise. You live in California, now, is that right?"
"Uh... yes. Since last December."
"And... I take it you're the second eldest, Montreal?"
Monty blinks. 
"Um... Yeah. That's my... that's my name."
His full name, which no one ever uses. 
Sasha blushes and elbows Jake in the ribs. 
"You gotta excuse him, Monty. Jake's a cop."
"Is that so?" Dane says, stepping forward and extending his hand.
"No," Jake says, laughing easily. 
"I'm just a park ranger, law enforcement on the wild side."
Dane's expression doesn't change. Like Monty, this is the Alpha’s first time meeting Sasha's mate.
"Guess you know who I am, too," he says.
Jake Nash nods. 
"Alpha Dane Hunter, current private eye, formerly of the Spring Lakes PD, homicide division. Am I right?"
Dane's expression doesn't change. 
"Yep."
All of that is public knowledge, anyway.
Except the 'Alpha,' part. 
Jake nods, his expression equally grim. 
"I hope we can work together here," Jake says. 
"I've been over the... well, the 'scene' several times now. But I'd be grateful for another pair of eyes. Or two," he adds, glancing at Monty.
Dane takes a step forward and extends his hand.
"Your Pack's based in Texas, that so?"
Ranger Jake Nash nods.
"Born and raised."
"And before you became a park ranger, you did a stint in the army, then joined the Austin PD, then took courses in criminal justice through University of Texas Online, before becoming a Park Ranger, here in Montana."
"You've done your homework." 
Jake's still smiling but Monty can hear the 'asshole' in his tone. 
Monty suppresses an unfortunate a giggle. 
Dane was a good cop and is a good detective but there are times when his brother wants to add 'asshole' to the ends of his sentences, too.
"Seems like everything I've heard of you is true," Jake says, his eyes locked on Dane's. 
Then his expression sobers to humorless sincerity and he steps back, giving Monty’s brother a respectful nod. 
"All things considered, I'm glad you're here. I know it's your parents and your childhood home we're talkin' 'bout and I understand how difficult that is, but... Well, there are some things that don't add up. I've done my best, but..." he says, swishing a hand through his silky blond hair and sighs. 
"I'd be grateful if you and..." he adds, glancing at Monty and Julian, 
"Anyone else, for that matter, wants to examine the scene. Different wolves have different gifts, as you know."
Dane lifts a brow at him.
"That I do," he says, as he takes one of the twins from Julian, bouncing the baby on his hip. 
Effortlessly, he's two things at once, all business, cop on the scene, detective ready to take the case and a father who loves his children above all else.
"So, what have you found?" he asks and Jake Nash casts him a sidelong look.
"C'mon inside and I'll catch y'all up."
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MOM, COME GET ME I'M WRITING GAY STORIES ABOUT A DISEMBODIED VOICE AGAIN
💙🔶💙🔶💙🔶
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💙🔶💙🔶💙🔶
"Was I worth the wait?"
Tw: slight swearing
Rated Tea for tyrannosaurus
•.✧෴💙෴✧.•
"Ooh, it's beautiful, isn't it Stanley?" His gorgeous baritone voice cut through the air smoothly.
And it was. Definitely unique. Stanley couldn't remember ever seeing anything like this before. The void stretched out endlessly, breathing in a sense of calm and wonder he wouldn't have expected. And the colors. Beautiful neon hues speckle the voidscape, glowing and vibrant and beautiful in their majesty. It looked like space in a way. A few pin pricks of light could be seen off in the distance, as if looking at a beautiful velvety black night sky.
Were they in space? Is that where Stanley had been all along? All of these years here, probably even decades, and it never would have occurred to him that he could be in space. Out of all the possible places he could be.
The Narrator sighed again, pulling in the curly haired man out of his thoughts. Why, if he didn't know any better he would assume the voice was actually enjoying this. Was he content? Feeling a happy sense of serene peace? Was the voice even capable of feeling these things? Stanley shook his head, dismissing his wondering thoughts. Any longer and he'd drive himself mad, and that's not why he's here, is it?
To be fair, he still had no idea why he was here.
Stanley thought little as he bent down to sit on the cold concrete floor, fully content to just watch the neon colors lazily float on by. He felt a smile pull at his lips, giving off a voiceless sigh of his own as he laid down on his back. It definitely was relaxing. Stanley could almost feel all of his troubles melt away as he puts his hands behind his head, settling in for at least a few good minutes of peace. A part of him thought the Narrator would chastise him for this. "Ah Stanley," He would say in that pompous voice of his, "do get off the ground, you don't want to get your clothes filthy."
But to his mild surprise the Narrator said nothing. The voice seemed to be paying him no mind, humming some unknown tune, soft and low. Stanley hadn't noticed before, and really didn't mind. It sounded nice. Was that a lullaby? Who knows.
Soon enough Stanley felt his eyelids droop, and a silent yawn leaves his mouth. He felt tired. When has it been since he'd last slept? Matter of fact, when has it been since he last ate? Stanley felt his brow furrow as he thought. There he goes thinking again. But honestly, sooner or later these questions had to have popped up in his mind, yes? Surely. Mmm, No, Stanley didn't seem to recall asking himself these questions before. For all the possible decades he's been here, he never really thought to stop and ask for food. Or even a bed! Well, there was that couch in the employee lounge. Looked like a nice couch. Looked old. Comfortable probably. He briefly wondered how many people would have slept on it, working long hours in an office building would tend to leave someone tired. Or insane.
"Oh Stanley, I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed!" The Narrator spoke suddenly, making Stanley jump in his spot. "Oh! Do pardon me, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm glad you're enjoying the room." Stanley looked up furiously, his face flush. Well now he's embarrassed, he'd almost completely forgotten about him, the Voice. Or was he a man? It was a disembodied voice, for all Stanley knew it was just in his head and he was going crazy. Although, it wasn't a bad voice to have stuck in your head for all eternity. Nice and velvety, like warm honey. It had an air of pompous sophistication to it. Hell, the man could read a dictionary and it would be entertaining.
Stanley felt himself blush as his thoughts. Well how unprofessional of him! He didn't even know this man-voice-person-thing, and he's already over here content with having said voice stuck in his head for the rest of time.
Stanley shook his head again, and took a second to look up. Where would the Narrator be, the man wondered? He would be above him wouldn't he? That's where Stanley always imagined the voice being. Above him. Or... maybe below? Was he an Ethyl being, floating gracefully all around him?
Who cares. Stanley smiled, voicelessly grunting as he lifted one of his arms from behind his head. The Narrator gave off a surprised hum as he noticed Stanley waving at him.
"Yes Stanley, what is it?" The Narrator asked, and it's so gentle and warm. Stanley smiled as he waved towards himself with his hand. Come down?
"What Stanley? Do you want me to... Oh! Oh no no no, I can't do that!" The Narrator says with a lighthearted chuckle. Stanley rose a brow in mock irritation. He waved his hand again, then moved to pat the empty spot beside him, the loud claps of his flesh and the concrete echoing throughout the space. Come down and lay with me! It's nice down here.
"No Stanley, I don't think you understand," the Narrator says, his voice somehow sounding just a bit closer, like he's leaning in towards a microphone. "I can't go down there Stanley. I don't even think I'm able to. What do you think I am Stanley, some psycho in a back room with an open door leading right to you? I'm a voice Stanley. In a way I don't exist. Well- I could exist, but that would take a lot of effort on my part."
Bullshit. Stanley's brows furrowed together, him crossing his arms in an almost childish manner. Hell, if Stanley could talk he'd be putting up a good argument right now on how the voice should definitely come down here and spend some time with him.
Please come and sit with me.
He heard the Narrator sigh heavily, and it shouldn't have rattled Stanley's spine as much as it did. Stanley waited, almost expecting to get no response in return. He looked up again, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.
It's really pretty here.
The Narrator hummed in thought, and Stanley could almost hear his frown. 'Come on, just come down here?' Stanley thought, and he desperately wanted to speak. 'It's not like I'm going to immediately glomp you. Although any physical contact would be great right now.'
Stanley only waited a few more seconds before the Narrator finally spoke again.
"Oh, ok, fine Stanley! You and your stupid eyes." He heard the Narrator grumbling some more, and couldn't stop the smug little smirk that crept onto his face. "If you want me to come down there so badly, I suppose I will. I will. ... Ummmmm... Actually stanley, I'm not sure how this is going to work. Let me... Um..." He sounds genuinely confused. Stanley could hear multiple papers and things being shuffled around. "G-give me a minute. I need to figure something out."
And with that Stanley's eyes widened. Figure what out? It took him a second to figure out what the narrator had implied. Was he actually coming down? Wait- wait a minute. He just, what, asked the Narrator to come down and sit with him and... He will??? But how was the voice supposed to sit with him if he was just a voice? Stanley's mind began to wonder. He never once thought about meeting the voice face to face before. Face to... Magical orb? Face to mystical glowy demon of magic? Face to alien... with magic powers? Hopefully not an evil one that could be hungry for... Um... human flesh....
He didn't think this through, did he?
Stanley sat up, bringing his knees to his chest as he thought. 'Well this is going to be weird, isn't it' he thought as he propped his elbows on his knees. He never once thought to try and put a face to the man. Voice. Thing. The most Stanley ever envisioned when he thought of the voice was an empty seat in front of a microphone. Like a ghost or something. Stanley tried to conjure up an image of what his Narrator would probably look like. Probably tall. With silky black hair and huge orange alien eyes? He's probably floating off the ground too, with sharp teeth and an impossibly tone body. Stanley felt a silent laugh rip from his chest. It sounded like he was thinking of the perfect imaginary boyfriend, how silly.
"All right, I think I finally figured it out."
His pulse quickened as he heard footsteps behind him. No, surely that couldn't have been him. His mind all but went blank as he spun his head around. The click of expensive shoes tapping against the concrete got louder as the new figure walked closer. The obscured features becoming slightly clearer as they slowly came into the light, carefully walking up the stairs. Stanley stared wide-eyed at this figure. Another person. Someone other than him!
Oh. Oh dear. Well he was an older gentleman, caucasian from the looks of it. His gaunt face shows off his age almost beautifully, the strong laugh lines and other wrinkles seem to perfectly frame and accentuate the best features of his face. Such sharp cheekbones and defined jawline. Stark light grey hair is perfectly styled, contrasting nicely with his much darker suit. And his eyes. Blue and almost piercing, they seemed to glow in the darkness. 'They actually do', Stanley notes with a bit of surprise. His posture held nothing but elegance and grace as he walked towards the awe-stricken office worker.
"I suppose it was about time we met officially." He says, and it is indeed the Narrator's voice that flows through this man's thin lips. Stanley almost can't believe what's happening right now, still standing wide-eyed, his mouth agape and his heart beating noticeably faster. How is it really you?
"Do forgive the wait Stanley, it's been a while since I had to manifest a physical form." The Narrator chuckled quietly, his hands move to smooth out his suit as he begins to speak again. "Yes, I know I was rushing, but I believe I've gotten everything right." He says as he begins to examine himself proudly. Stanley almost laughs as he notices the narrator's hands only had four fingers on each rather than five. Was that a mistake from him rushing? Best not to say anything, the man looks proud of himself. Stanley watches as the Narrator gives himself a final pat down before turning towards him fully, a smile resting on his face. Stanley couldn't stop himself as he stared up at the other man, who was a fair bit taller than him. At least he got that right. He just couldn't get over the fact that there was another *person* here. Even if that isn't technically a person, it's still something!
Another chuckle. The Narrator can't help but laugh at his only companion's reaction.
"My my my, you look rather flustered." He says with an all-knowing tone and god damn him. Stanley let out an irritated huff as the Narrator simply walked past him, hands clasped behind his back in only the most formal of ways. "So, what is it you wanted me down here for again Stanley?" He asks curiously, is glowing blue eyes surprisingly haven't left Stanley's face yet.
The brunette finally snapped out of his thoughts as he excitedly walked towards the man. The smile on his face was so wide and happy and oh dear this was exciting! Stanley grunted as he sat back down on the ground, then pointed upwards. The Narrator rose a thin brow at this. "Stanley, if you wanted me to see the lights, I didn't have to come down here for it. I could see them perfectly from where I was."
Stanley shook his head hurriedly, and patted the spot next to him once again, this time with less force.
The Narrator rolled his eyes, his expression nothing short of playful. "I doubt it would really change anything if I saw them from down there." Stanley really had to keep himself from standing back up and grabbing the man. Just sit down with me!
The Narrator's look softened as he watches Stanley straighten up, big brown eyes staring back at him. Damn those puppy dog eyes. The Narrator was almost certain he'd be broken by the end of this.
He sighs quite over dramatically, leaning his weight onto one leg as he pretends to be irritated. "Fine Stanley, I'll sit with you." He says as he crosses his arms. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt too much."
Stanley couldn't stop the wide smile that erupted over his face. He watched as the Narrator finally sit down beside him, not as elegantly as the man would have probably liked. The older man let out a tired gasp, as if the simple action of sitting down alone was too taxing.
"Oh dear," he says tiredly, "I forgot how difficult it was to move like you humans." And it's not in a condescending tone that he says it either. Stanley felt his eyes widen slightly, subconsciously making a mental note that the Narrator was definitely not a human. As if that wasn't painfully obvious enough already.
The lights.
Stanley audibly gasps, having almost forgotten about that entirely. He scootches closer to the Narrator, startling the older man. The narrator watches, the excited human beside him bouncing in his spot as he points up once again. He had to resist another eye roll as he finally decided to comply.
"Right Stanley, our little light-"
His blue eyes widen as he finally looks up. It was all around him. Spiraling and lazily swirling around the lonely circular platform out in the voidscape he created. He knew what it looked like. He knew how it worked. He has seen everything in this room and yet he felt like he was bearing witness to it all for the first time.
It was astonishing. He was so used to seeing everything from everywhere all at once. All angles and all sides observed and memorized, but this was...
This is what Stanley saw.
He had never seen it from this point of view before. It felt like he was in the center of a gigantic cave, so small and helpless and at the mercy of the beautiful wonders around him.
He felt so small. So insignificant. And it felt beautiful.
This is what Stanley saw.
The Narrator's glowing blue eyes snap back towards his companion. The man was too busy admiring the colors to notice the older man's gaze. He couldn't say anything. Nothing he could think of could capture what he felt at this moment. Did words even exist to describe this? His eyes turn back towards the void.
"S-stanely..." The dark skin man finally turned, coffee eyes meeting turquoise. What does he say? A simple thank you isn't enough, this is amazing! The narrator stumbled over his words as he tried to think of something, anything to say. His hands absently wave as he tries to think of something.
"Why, I don't think..." He stops, then tries again. "Oh dear, I-i don't think a simple 'thank you' could ever be enough."
Stanley's eyes softened as he gives a knowing smile. You made this place. You made it this beautiful.
The older man hums thoughtfully as he runs his perfectly manicured fingers along his pencil mustache. He never saw anything from Stanley's point of view. He was always too big. That had to have been it, hadn't it? Too big? Stanley was so small compared to everything he made, and the Narrator was just. Everywhere? The omnipresent nature of his existence confused even him, but he was definitely bigger than Stanley. There was always the off chance, in his mind, that whatever the narrator made wouldn't be grand enough for Stanley. He never saw it through Stanley's eyes, so how would he know?
But down here, in this fragile little body, it felt right. His creation finally felt right. It felt grand! It felt perfect!
"My word Stanley, this is truly amazing." He says barely above a whisper. "I genuinely had no idea that it would have looked like this!" His eyes turn upward once again, hand's motioning at the lights around them. Stanley looked at him with a gentle smile. Of course you didn't, you're too stuck in your own head sometimes. The Narrator makes a shocked noise, turning back to his companion with a look of mock irritation.
"Stanley, how dare you, I am not stuck in my own head!" The Narrator crosses his arms over his chest, face struggling to keep up the irritated facade. "What about you, Stanley! You're always so tiny! Such a tiny little thing, down there running around from room to room!" The older man had noticed Stanley slowly scooting closer to him, and only said anything when their shoulders touched, his eyes still widening at the sudden contact.
"Oh Stanley, please!" The Narrator says mirthfully, gently pushing the younger man away, ignoring the way Stanley's warmth shocked him. "I spent quite a bit of time trying to make this physical form as neat as I possibly could, I don't want you mucking it up."
Stanley silently chuckled as he pushed back. The suit looks nice! You did a great job. Very snappy.
The narrator laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, well, it's nothing special. I didn't even try, really."
It was nice in the light room. Peaceful. You could stay in there forever and watch all the lights go by, beautiful heavenly sounds ringing in the air.  And stay they did, laughing and joking about random things, pointing out random shapes that the little light clouds made and genuinely having a great time in each other's company. It was much to both parties disappointment when the Narrator finally had to leave. Go back to wherever the hell he came from. It truly did take everything in Stanley not to grab the man and beg him to stay. Not that he was the clingy type, or that the narrator was the most pleasant person, no. Just a mere fact that he saw another being at all made him happy.
A hug wouldn't've hurt. A nice and long hug, squeezing the other man so tightly to his chest. Stanley was only human after all. Humans crave physical affection, they need it. And after so long without it, it was a miracle Stanley even held himself back. But he knew that even after all he and the narrator had been through, it would have been severely inappropriate. They were still acquaintances at this point. 'We should be friends by now.' Stanley thought almost bitterly, but it wasn't without a light-hearted chuckle.
But damn. Damn it, was that unexpected! Was that amazing! Stanley decided that he had to come visit this room a lot more often!
•.✧෴🔶෴✧.•
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CAN I JUST SAY THAT YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING????? Its so detailed with a great flow and filled with so much emotion I LOVE ITTTT!! You got me lying in bed tossing and turning with “in pursuit of knowledge” 🥰🥰 that’s my favourite one I really hope you continue it!
Can I request one of the upcoming chapter to explore more on how Zhongli and reader first meet and what are the other things they did that made him fall for them more and more each day? Zhongli doesn’t seem to be the kind that falls in love at first sight so I’m interested to see how the reader seems to have slowly crawled her way into his stone heart UGHHH ❤️❤️😩😩 It can be filled with fluff or with smut, up to you! Thank you so much ❤️
Thank you! You can keep on tossing and turning then with this! I also head canon that when it comes to love, Zhongli wouldn't fall in love at first sight but instead he'd be like a snail. The entire time I'm writing this I thought long and hard on how to proceed because I couldn't decide on a satisfactory way Zhongli would meet reader. I already knew that it would be a speed run of Enemies to Friends, and slow burn Friends to Lovers. So I wanted their first meeting to be seemingly unremarkable to Zhongli.
In Pursuit of Duty
Summary: The simplest of things can lead to the greatest moments of our life. Meeting you was Zhongli's greatest fortune.
There were a few mortals in Zhongli’s life, both as an Archon and on the few occasions he mingled with humans, that were able to capture his attention or even his praise. And in all of his life, mortal and divine, no one was able to capture his enmity in the way you did.
“Would it really matter what Rex Lapis thinks if we entered and fucked around the domain in Guyun stone forest?”
Zhongli blinked, aghast at your tone as Childe covered his mouth to stifle his laughter.
“What?” You asked the two of them as if you had not merely suggested tampering with the seals of Guyun Stone Forest.
“The entire place is home to the fallen gods” Zhongli reminded you “a graveyard for those who died in the Archon War”
“It’s been decades, they should be already on the reincarnation wheel at this point” You waved his worries off, sending Childe to another fit of laughter while Zhongli felt indignant “‘sides Rex Lapis is busy doing fuck knows what he probably wouldn’t even notice if one of the seals got messed with unless one of the dead Gods decide to fuck shit up”
Zhongli, who was very much Rex Lapis in disguise, very much noticed it and though he was the one who orchestrated this whole scenario, felt no less than pleased with the attitude you were having.
“The dead still deserve to be respected!” Zhongli insisted as he blocked your hand from reaching towards one of the seals.
“You stick in the mud! You make it sound like I’m defiling their graves or something!” You whined “Besides the Heavens must be willing if they had a stray seal plaster itself on my face!”
“It was a ruined seal. The divine powers had long since dwindled from it. Thus, the Heavens had no hand on it” Zhongli stubbornly insisted as he moved to block your path.
On the side, Childe was still laughing loudly.
“That’s it! Fight me you bastard!” You shouted as you took a few steps back and summoned the elements to form your weapon, a spear.
And really, it was almost funny in hindsight, how you would choose his weapon of all things. The one weapon he was best at among others but right now, in this moment, Zhongli had felt more than annoyed.
“Very well” His spear, dragon’s bane, at his side “I accept your challenge.”
There were a few opponents in his life that gave Zhongli a thrill of the battle. Ever fewer were able to make the gears in his head turn as quickly as it did when facing you, each strike of your spear was clearly aiming for his life, and yet the look in your eyes didn’t carry a single thought of murder.
It was frustrating. It was Confusing. It was, most of all, fascinating.
Fighting you brought him back to the days before the Archon Wars, where the Gods of Liyue were at a semblance of peace. It made him remember the joy of fighting someone your equal, it made his blood rush in a way that it had almost forgotten. And Zhongli was starting to see that beyond your heretical ways, behind your annoying mask of affability, was someone who can walk in the path of the divine.
‘No, you would walk in it for the sake of your knowledge’ Zhongli thought as he blocked your attack and moved his feet to kick you in your stomach.
“This ends here” Zhongli declared as he summoned a steele behind your back.
The sound of your back hitting it rang loudly in the air but the look on your face was something he would never forget in a long while.
You spat out blood, shakily standing up from your position, “You win this round! But I swear on Rex Lapis’ six pack abs I’ll find a way to replicate that fucking seal!”
And then you were gone in a spark of electro.
The peaceful sound of waves remained in the air that somehow hung heavy. Childe had stopped laughing and was looking confused as he mused, “That’s the first time in a long while I’ve seen them look like that.”
Zhongli paid no attention to his words and instead picked up the abandoned seal and returned it to its proper position.
“Interesting” Childe muttered, softly and slightly ominous to Zhongli’s ears.
What he found interesting was something Zhongli wisely decided to not entertain. He really hoped that today would be the last time he’d ever have to be in the presence of Childe’s...friend.
For his part, Childe had no regrets in introducing Zhongli to you, or rather having Zhongli experience the misfortune of knowing you. From the moment Childe had met you again, he knew that his life would be thrown out of whatever carefully calculated plan Pulcinella had made. And it was one he was happy with, if the rumors in Snezhnaya had him part of the chaos then you were chaos incarnate.
It was precisely the reason why Childe had brought Zhongli with him when meeting you in the Guyun Stone Forest.
“A friend of mine, an expert in the ways of the divine and assorted knowledge, would lend us their skills in challenging the...impossible, shall we say” Childe said on the way “Most of their thoughts are heretical, almost, but well no one has ever said it wasn’t effective in reaching the desired result.”
“Ah, a researcher from Sumeru then?” Zhongli had asked, the light in eyes glinting in interest.
“Of sorts” Childe answered because as much as you stayed in Sumeru, most of your knowledge had come from your own experiments and cases from clients seeking answers the divine could not give.
This was why you were almost heretical.
“I must warn you that for them the sacred can be profaned and the profane can be sacred” Childe added as they reached the shores of Guyun Stone Forest, and found you basking under the gentle rays of sunlight in front of the Domain.
Zhongli stared at you, the sight of you head looking up with your eyes closed as it felt the warmth of the sunlight. Geo crystalflies surrounding you as a light breeze had the ends of your hair fluttering in the wind.
“Who is that?” Zhongli asked.
“My friend, the infamous Xiézhihuā Mìngfù of Liyue” Childe answered.
In that exact moment, you slowly opened your eyes, lashes fluttering softly as you blinked. The wind blew and a rain of leaves fell on you, gentle and calm as you stared at them.
--
Like an ill-fated omen, Zhongli began to notice you on the streets of Liyue Harbor. Rumors and words of your deeds would reach his ears, on occasion some of your cases would be told in the tea houses.
“Miracle” a few bystanders would say.
“Heretical” the few devout traditionalists would mutter in hushed tones.
But all agreed that you were a genius. An innovator that brought changes like a storm. You gathered envy and admiration in your wake, foreign nobles and dignitaries seeking you out for consultations or to ask for your help. And yet, for all of your infamy and prestige, Zhongli often found you amidst the crowd of orphans or Liyue’s slum dwellers.
Sometimes, Childe was with you, other times it was Director Hu and her friends, the second young master of the Feiyun Guild and the exorcist. In one memorable moment, Yanfei. But more often than not you were by yourself, answering questions from children with a pleasant smile and mischievous glint in your eyes.
It was such a huge contrast from the one he first met that it made Zhongli pause and observe you from afar. Enough times that those around him would say, “No need for alarm, Mr. Zhongli. Xiézhihuā Mìngfù is honorable.”
It was those words that made him ponder. For all of your borderline heretical actions, miracle works that trespass on the Divine, the entirety of Liyue agreed that you were honorable.
It wasn’t until Childe had asked for his help did he cross paths with you again. Weeks of avoiding you to maintain peace were all for naught when he found himself in your presence once more. A jar of osmanthus wine on your hand and an ingratiating smile on your face, you offered it to him and said, “Osmanthus wine, I’ll give this to you so don’t be a stick in the mud!”
In his youth, he would have immediately brawled with you. But now, Zhongli settled for drinking a cup of tea with contempt as much as the act could convey. Your laughter, melodious, rang in the private room of Liuli Pavillion.
“Aiyo! What a tough crowd!” You said as you sat opposite him and placed the bottle in the center of the table, “Then shall we begin anew? My birth name is a secret, my courtesy name is a secret, my title is Xiézhihuā Mìngfù! Xié for Heretic, zhi for knowledge, and huā for flower!”
“What kind of introduction is that?” Childe teased as he began his battle with chopsticks.
“An unforgettable one!” You replied, sending a wink to Zhongli who merely pursed his lips.
“I am Zhongli, a consultant for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”
You smiled and decided to leave the matter at that, somethings could not be forced. So you retreated and decided to just straightforwardly tell him your intentions.
“I’ve heard that Mr. Zhongli is knowledgeable in Liyue’s history.”
Zhongli could sense your sincerity, it placated him a bit, made the dismal first meeting a little bit better. So he tries because he is magnanimous and there was no reason to burn a bridge, “I am merely remembering what others have forgotten.”
He looked at you in the eyes, drawn to the way your eyes burn bright with curiosity. It reminded him of Guizhong so he shakes the thought away because the dead and the living must not be compared. But as the conversation grows long, the topics eventually shift from the job to everything else, Zhongli can’t help but notice your innate desire to help those who are unfortunate.
Somehow it made him understand why you were seen as honorable. It wasn’t until all of you were facing unknown danger did he realize what it truly meant when used on you.
The case you were asking was slightly connected with Childe’s job for you. The case was about the sudden deaths of several brides that were kidnapped and found dead at an abandoned temple. No one had reported it to the Qixing until one of the victims involved was a distant relative of a Qixing who was to be wedded to one of the Szehnayan Merchants.
Childe had taken the chance to offer aide, calling for your help as one of the known detectives of Fontaine. It had surprised Zhongli, and made him respect you but all of it was quickly thrown away when you had given him a cheeky wink and said, “I can even tell how big a man’s dick is.”
“Shameless” He had admonished and yet he was unaware of the small smile he wore on his face.
The investigation led the three of you to a small village in the mountain, with a local shrine that was dedicated to an old god that even Zhongli had never heard of. The three of you had pored over legends passed down by mouth, discussing and comparing with the records found in Liyue’s public library and scholars. Childe, through his seemingly endless funds, had paid for information on every victim so far that wasn’t in the packet given by the millelith. Zhongli, with his seemingly endless connections, had talked to everyone and anyone that had studied Liyue’s countless lores and legends. And you had talked with the family of the victims, investigating the crime scene and connecting everything that could lead to an answer.
That was how Zhongli found you, messed up clothes and tired eyes poring over documents in the middle of discarded papers that laid on the dark wood floor of your secluded residence in Minlin.
“Have you not slept?” Zhongli asked, frowning as he made his way towards you.
“Not yet” You answered as you got up and discarded the paper you were reading to go to your wide cork board that held all the relevant information you had, “I’m close to figuring out what sort of deity or demon we’re going to fight.”
“What about the reason?”
“Solved it ages ago” You answered carelessly, pointing at the left corner of the board.
Zhongli went over and flitted through the papers on that side until he found what he was looking for.
“A vengeful bride?”
“Mn” You replied as you removed a pin and replaced the paper with an old newspaper clipping “There was a record of a previous incident however the Ghost of that time was listed as defeated. The stories all claim that the ghost was of savage rank, and disappeared after letting go of their obsession.”
“Then it returned?” Zhongli turned to you, alarmed and visibly frowning.
“No.”
You sighed and rubbed your aching forehead, “This was a man made disaster that went out of hand, I’m sure that whoever started this is probably dead. Chances are the first death awakened a sealed something” You looked at him, eyes serious “I’m figuring out just how old this thing is and what exactly are we going to face.”
“...The older it is…”
“The harder it would be to defeat it. Liyue’s lands are drenched in blood. Old grudges mixed with new ones from the Archon Wars. With cultivation clans dying out and having a single yaksha around, the karmic cycle of Liyue is already out of balance” You revealed and Zhongli was amazed with your discovery.
“Is there anything Rex Lapis could do?”
“...Fixing the karmic cycle? None. Solving this? His dragon qi would only end up being corrupted or he’d be punished by the Heavenly Dao. Time has changed a lot of things, but the rule that the Gods may not interfere with the mortal realm remains true.”
Both of you remained silent, You stared blankly at your board while Zhongli watched you. The heavy air from your words made your heart heavy, and Zhongli could see it. The fear that lingered in your eyes, the firm determination to save lives.
It left a ripple in the calm waters of his heart. A small unnoticeable ripple.
“Is it worth it?” Zhongli asked “Is it worth betting on your life to save the common people?”
You smiled at him, almost pitying, “To an adeptus like you, the amount of times mortals would bet on their lives to save others must be few, but Zhongli...I am the sort to always think that the common people are worthy.”
At that moment, Guizhong’s words echoed in his mind.
“Let me help you.”
--
A red sedan trudges up the mountain path, intending to pass through the temple. Behind the bridal sedan was a short entourage carrying three chests of dowry. In front of the sedan, were two people beating drums to celebrate the auspicious day.
Zhongli, Baizhu, and the Fatui disguised as locals were on alert as it watched the ominous trees of the mountain road. You sat inside the sedan, meditating in lotus position. Chongyun and Xingqiu were waiting in the temple where the zombified bodies of the previous brides were found. You had advised Ajax to not participate in the inevitable battle. Ensuring the possibility that his abyssal powers would react badly with ancient powers. With all of the preparations, you hoped that the odds would be in your favor.
You sighed softly, eyes opening as you felt the air change. You readied your weapon as soon as you heard the sounds of fighting.
The door opens and you throw out a talisman. In a quick move you stepped out, geo shield forming around you as you began plucking the strings of the Guqin. You looked at your enemy and found your heart easing up.
What stood before you was neither an ancient deity or demon, but rather a ghost on the verge of breaking through the Malice Rank.
“Don’t fear! We can subdue this one!” You informed your party, as you played the Sound of Vanquish.
Vines subdued the ghost, wearing the red robes of a groom. The Fatui began surrounding the ghost. Nine stone pillars acted as the foundation of the seal, pulsing with geo energy.
You felt rather than saw Chongyun come close, allowing you to draw upon his yang energy to balance out the pure yin energy of the ghost. Xingqiu stood on standby ready to recite the incantation for parting in case the seal fails.
The final notes of the song lingered in the air as Zhongli walked towards you, eyes never leaving the ghost, “I thought it was a bride.”
“A minor mistake” You replied as you played Inquiry.
‘Who are you’
The ghost didn’t answer.
‘Who are you’ you repeated the question.
‘Kill me’ it answered.
Your hands stilled in the air. You sighed and looked up from the strings and found yourself staring straight at the eyes of the ghost. Stunned at the mixture of emotions in its eyes.
“...There is no need to surrender to despair, your soul can still be saved.”
The ghost gave a mocking smile, “So what? My Chang’er is gone. We can never meet again in this life or the next.”
Zhongli’s eyes widened at the implication, just as Chongyun let out a small gasp. You felt your heart turn heavy even so you soldiered on, there was a need to find out the cause of this tragedy.
“Then tell me, why did you kill those women?”
“They deserved it!” The ghost screamed in anger, “They killed her! They killed her like she was nothing! Chang’er was innocent! They knew she was innocent and still-”
“You could have reported to the Millelith!” Chongyun said.
Cold mocking laughter rang loudly in the air, in it you could hear the bitterness of defeat and anger.
“Would it have done anything when the person behind this is an official? You’re too naive, boy!”
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and decided to shield Chongyun from one of the dark sides of Liyue.
“Are you really forsaking salvation?”
“Yes.”
Zhongli watched as you walked towards the ghost and asked its name. He watched as the ghost whispered its name and you nodded before raising your hands, your index and middle finger pointing towards the sky, while the rest were closed.
Light gathered on your finger tips, the air charged with spiritual energy that was not of Celestial origin. It was an ancient divine power that Zhongli used to feel before he ascended to the peak of cultivation as a dragon.
With one downward stroke, the light slashed through the ghost. The light was so blinding that Zhongli had to shield his eyes as he watched the ghost turn into dust, its soul scattering to the wind. Your back stood straight, your hair gently fluttering.
Even though you were expressionless, Zhongli felt the heaviness of your heart. Despite that your eyes remained strong, unyielding as righteousness burned in your eyes. He watched as you strode in Ningguang’s jade chamber, as you reported your findings.
He accompanied you in going back to the village where it all began as you read the Liyue Qixing’s edict. He watched as you went beyond what Childe asked and went to the unmarked grave of Chang’er, offering incense on the blood stained stones of the temple.
He went with you as you sat on the highest mountain peak in Bishui, looking at the horizon with a blank look in your eyes. He didn’t speak and instead poured you a cup of osmanthus wine and silently waited.
“...Sometimes, I wonder if I can remain in the path of righteousness” You spoke, “I can never understand the hearts of humans, how could they easily ruin someone’s reputation, ruin someone’s life because of greed? I can’t understand why there was a need to go as far as scattering the soul?”
You cried without any tears, and Zhongli remained silent, unable to answer something he had always witnessed in his long life.
“Have you changed your answer?” He asked as he stared at his cup of wine.
“No” You replied and Zhongli could hear the self-mockery in your tone, “Even if one day I find myself in unbearable pain, I’ll never stop believing that the common people are worthy of saving.”
You looked at Zhongli, solemn in your bearing as the sun disappeared in the sky “Zhongli, no one has the right to decide on the outcome of human lives. Be it human or adepti.”
Zhongli thought back to the case, the sad story of two lovers who parted eternally because of jealousy and greed. The greediness of an official’s son for a woman who had no affection for him, the jealousy of the ladies over the popular young scholar. The selfish righteousness of the village folk that stoned an innocent woman to death over ruined reputation.
Zhongli thought of his contract. He wondered for a moment what you would say to him if knew that he dared to bet on the safety of Liyue and its people.
He closed his eyes and drank the wine that still tasted as he remembered.
“I pray that your heart remains in paradise.”
You toasted him and smiled softly. Zhongli vowed to never forget how beautiful you looked in that moment, with the slight smile gracing your lips as you drank the osmanthus wine.
The moon was beautiful that night.
--
Zhongli watched from afar as Osial rose. His thoughts echoing to the oath you swore that day in Guyun. A part of his heart felt sad and yet in awe of what you had accomplished.
He watched as the Millelith, Adepti and Fatui worked together to evacuate the civilians. He watched as humans and adepti fought together to bring down Osial once more. He felt proud and relieved at the result, glad at the knowledge that Liyue had no need of him anymore and yet a part of him felt trepidation.
The knowledge that the Age of Archons was drawing to a close. He thought of you, a beloved child of the Heavens, who could boldly declare that the Gods can be wrong. He thought of the words you spoke that night.
He thought of the days he spent with you, the rare times he went along with your tricks and harmless schemes. The easy way the two of you became friends. You were the first person he had easily became friends with, he mused at how quickly his dislike of you melted into fondness.
The way his heart had pinched when you said he wasn’t fun. The elation from being one of the few people you found interesting. He thought all of this as he handed his gnosis, as he kept his reason a secret. He thought of this as he looked around Liyue that had no need of him anymore, he thought of you as his feet automatically walked to where you were.
He stood away from you, watching as you cared for the wounded and then silently left. He spent the aftermath ruminating on his decision, on his actions while silently watching your actions with Childe during the last week of his stay in Liyue.
He waited for you to come to him, and ask him the question he could not answer. He steeled his heart and yet when you came to him, you didn’t ask and instead began talking about your recent adventures, asking him of his days and Zhongli didn’t know what to feel.
He knew that you knew nothing then. That you remained unaware of the truth but he let himself believe that you didn’t mind. So he spent his days with you, silently caring for you, protecting you in his own way.
He let himself bask in your vibrant presence, allowed himself to savor the feeling of watching you walk the path of righteousness. He unknowingly and willingly let you walk inside his heart, step by step, with each moment you spent helping others.
The days spent by your side, knowing the parts of yourself that no one else knew was the closest he felt in being mortal. It was so easy to forget that you remained ignorant when he spent his time worrying about your ability to be where chaos was, when his heart was easily influenced by you.
But now, in the privacy of the Dwelling in the Clouds, Zhongli watched as you grew disappointed. Your soft laughter filled with heartbreak and weariness broke his heart for reasons he couldn’t understand.
He regretted not telling you the truth when he had the chance.
He hated how he had no right to wipe away your tears even though he had spent countless nights and days warming your bed.
“Zhongli, I hate how I can understand why you did it” Your voice was so soft “Really, as an Archon you are undeniably good, you are peerless in that regard.”
He closed his eyes and readied himself for your next words.
“But I can’t call you a good person. Human lives aren’t something you should bet on so easily, no matter how careful you are” Your disappointment, your grief, and your weariness were all visible in your tone and body language.
He remained where he stood, watching as you descended. Each step breaking his heart as he slowly understood what you meant to him. He cried silently as you disappeared below the clouds and slowly sank on the ground.
For the first time in his life, Zhongli didn’t know what to do. There was no one he could turn to. He dreaded going back to a cold empty house devoid of you. He feared going back to the days that were dull, to a time where you did not exist in his life.
Where the sound of your voice was not commonplace, or the comforting scent of your magic that lingered in the space you occupied.
Zhongli laughed, loud and unrestrained, mocking himself for his stupidity. He hated how he didn’t realize it sooner, if he did then perhaps things would not turn out this way. He cried with all of his broken heart as he remembered the loneliness in your eyes.
He drank his sorrows away and as daylight broke through the clouds, he stumbled his way home. To the place that was devoid of you who he loved.
He fell on his bed that still smelled like you and silently cried himself to sleep.
He was already missing you dearly.
--
You stared at Zhongli, eyes distant as he stood in front of your door. A distant part of you wondered if things could be fixed, if the two of you could move forward from this pain.
But the rest of you were waiting for further disappointment, you knew the bone-deep pride of Gods. You understood that there was a bigger chance that Zhongli would cease contact with you, no one can easily put down years of habit and thought as a god so easily.
And yet as Zhongli stood beneath you, looking up to you. You couldn’t help but hope.
“...I can’t apologize for what I did” Zhongli began, “I don’t regret doing it the way I planned but I regret that I didn’t think of another way to test my people.”
You remained silent.
“I asked you once if the common people are worthy, the truth is I don’t know whether I find them worthy or not...but with you…” Zhongli trailed off, he felt that his next words were heavy.
He was afraid of laying his heart bare to you. The deepest parts of him that he didn’t fully understand, “I know that your life alone is worthy. I am a being born from rock, gaining humanity through cultivation. My heart is made of stone, softened by the dust. I don’t know if I would ever understand what being human means and everything it entails…”
You stared at him, unmoving, silently and patiently hearing him out.
“But I know that the only way I can keep on being with you is by changing this stone heart. So please, let me walk by your side, protecting you and your belief.”
Zhongli bent his waist, solemnly asking for your forgiveness and acceptance. He heard your footsteps coming closer and swore to himself to accept whatever the outcome would be.
“Stand straight.”
He stood and then he found himself in your embrace, your familiar scent filled his nose and Zhongli gently and firmly hugged you back. He held you fearing that all of it was an illusion.
“Let me learn how to be good while staying by your side” He whispered.
“I was afraid” You replied “of how easily you can decide on the outcome of your people’s life and death.”
You hugged him tighter, “I know that you still have secrets that you can’t tell. That even as you live as a mortal, the consequences of your actions as an Archon is something you would live with for the rest of your life. So I won’t judge you for that but Zhongli, I can’t be with someone who can easily bet on other’s life.”
“I understand.”
He thought of your words in Qingyun Peak, your confession that night in Minlin. He thought of the day he met you. He thought of the words he said in that temple ruin.
Zhongli understood what it meant to walk by your side, to take the same path as you did. He knew that from this moment onwards he would never be able to untangle himself from you.There was no room for anything else in his heart that was filled with you. It would always remain with you even if one day his entire being ends up in the abyss.
‘As long as your heart remains in paradise, I don’t mind letting myself fall into the abyss.
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iamdeku · 4 years
Text
Needy: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Me? Making a fic title that isn’t based off a song somehow? Seems unlikely. 
Warnings: school stress. makin’ out. not proofread.
For @sems-diarie
You hated your classmate Bakugou Katsuki with a passion. He was arrogant, brash, and extremely loud. He was rude to you and he was rude to everybody else and he was completely convinced he was the greatest thing to ever exist. There was really only one thing you hated more than Bakugou.
Being teamed up with him for your class’s newest group project.
You had pleaded and begged with Aizawa to let you pair up with literally anyone else, but he was unyielding. All of his pairings were final, and you and Bakugou were no exception. You were just going to have to learn how to work with him, your grades be damned, apparently.
“Alright, listen up,” you said, taking your seat next to Bakugou the day after your group pairings had been announced. “You are not going to mess up my grades. If anyone is going to mess up my grades it’s going to be me. I don’t think you’re an idiot. I know you’re an idiot. So just sit down, shut up, and follow my lead.”
You were perhaps slightly harsher than necessary, even for a guy like Bakugou. In your defense though, you’d had a truly garbage day. Your coffee machine had broken, leaving you with no caffeine this morning. It was an expensive coffee machine too, and you weren’t sure when you would be able to buy a new one. You had spent half of your morning looking for the manual to the coffee machine in the hopes that Momo could just create another one for you, and by the time you realized what time it was you had no opportunity to do anything but toss your clothes on before heading to class. On your way to class, it had rained, soaking you through because you had forgotten your umbrella and provoking Mineta to make a comment on the clinginess of your wet uniform. You had gotten a worse grade than you were expecting on your last test, you had tripped and spilled all of your lunch across the floor, and now here you were, having to sit next to your assigned group partner, hair still damp and mood still very, very bad.
“Hey, I don’t know who you think you are extra, but I’m no idiot. If you think we’re not beating everybody else in this class, then you’re wrong. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but Bakugou Katsuki never loses.”
You had known the great Bakugou Katsuki for the last 3 years of yours and his UA career, and now, in your final year, you were pretty confident that you still knew him. You knew him as a guy who had definitely lost before in the past. There was no particular shame in that, but you couldn’t afford to lose this time, especially not on Katsuki’s account.
“You better be right about that, pretty boy, because this grade is important to me. If we get a bad grade on this assignment it’s going to throw off my entire average, which I really can’t afford right now. Speaking of which, we really don’t have the time for all this dilly-dallying. Let’s get to work, king explosion murder,” you mocked.
To your surprise, the ever confident Bakugou turned bright red at the old nickname.
“Whatever. Let’s just get to work. We’re going to have to trade contact information so we can figure out a time to meet up. Plus I don’t trust you not to screw this up without my advice.”
You rolled your eyes. The nerve of this boy. The sheer gall.
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” You reached into your soggy backpack and pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper, scribbling down your phone number.
“We should just be able to meet up in one of the dorm’s common areas. The trick will be finding a time when everyone else isn’t working there.”
You sighed, knowing your classmates wouldn’t make the scheduling of this easy. Even ignoring the fact that you might have to deal with their noise and obnoxious planning, Bakugou’s sleep schedule was another barrier to your project design. He went to bed early enough to severely limit your time for working on the group project. You honestly didn’t know when he found the time for homework. If you didn’t do yours immediately it probably wouldn’t get done until the very last minute.
“We can just study in our rooms. It will be quieter there.” Bakugou shrugged.
You froze at his casual words. Study in your rooms? As in study in his room? Nobody had ever been invited into Bakugou’s room. Not his best friend Kirishima. Not his childhood rival Midoriya. Not even that girl from the gen-ed course he’d dated when you were second years. Nobody.
“Uh…are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re making a weird face, idiot.”
You shook your head. “Nothing. I was just thinking. Yeah, we can just study in our rooms. Just text me before randomly showing up, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Aizawa was starting up class, causing you both to shut up. You felt a part of you get very excited that you might be about to see Bakugou’s room. There was something sort of forbidden to the feeling, fluttering around in your chest like a stupid flock of butterflies or something. You were sure it was just the appeal of his room, the secrecy of it all. You loved knowing other people’s secrets. That must have been what it was.
As it turned out though, your hopes and dreams were all in vain. Bakugou texted you to ask about studying, not in his room, but your room. You complied of course. As much as you wanted to see the inside of his mysterious room, you respected his privacy. After all, rooms were sacred. Your room was a deeply personal expression of yourself, and you weren’t about to pry into his space. It wouldn’t get you a better grade anyway, seeing as your project wasn’t on the inside of Bakugou’s room.
You had cleaned up your room earlier in preparation for this moment, anticipating that sooner or later Bakugou would want to study in your room even if you had briefly entertained hopes that he would want to study in his. Your normally messy desk was cleared off, your bed was made and your dirty laundry was all in the basket where it belonged. If you hadn’t cleaned the room yourself you would probably think that you didn’t live here.
Bakugou walked into the room with all the posturing of royalty, shoulders thrown back confidently as he eyed your room. He sniffed, passing whatever final judgement he would, and proceeded to sit down at your desk.
“Nice room, nerd. Cleaner than I thought it would be.”
You grew uncomfortably warm at the truth of his accusation, feeling specifically called out. Could he possibly have heard you vacuuming earlier? It didn’t matter. You didn’t care about his opinion.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get to work, shall we?”
You pulled out your notebook, taking a seat on the floor and gesturing for him to join you.
“Why are you sitting on the floor, idiot?”
“I don’t have two chairs for both of us to work at the desk, so therefore the floor is our next best option.”
“No it isn’t.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You have a bed, don’t you? We can just sit on your bed and that way you don’t have to break you tailbone on the floor. Unless you like sitting on the hard floor.”
You gritted your teeth, glaring up at the challenge.
You pushed off from your hand, standing so you could loom over where he sat at your desk. “Fine. Bed it is then.”
You took a seat on your bed as he stood up from your desk chair he had invited himself to sit in. You waited for him to take his spot next to you on the bed, but he hesitated. For a guy who had suggested this idea, he didn’t seem to like it very much. Your surprise wore off though when you realized that he was being…awkward. Bakugou Katsuki was being awkward.
Was it you? Had you done something to make him uncomfortable? Or had he just been shy this whole time?
You could have laughed at him, but instead you took pity. You remembered your first year, when you had been painfully awkward. Maybe Bakugou had always been like that and you had just never had occasion to notice until now.
“Go ahead,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “Take a seat. I don’t bite, and even if I did you would like it.”
You laughed a little bit at your own joke, even if Bakugou didn’t seem to think it was very funny. You did succeed in getting him to sit on the bed though, so some small victories were won. He was stiff and sat much farther away from you than necessary, but he sat nonetheless.
After hours of working together, you managed to have a rough outline for the project. It was sort of a tricky project, based around gathering knowledge and making a presentation on the hero you thought to be the best. Bakugou had insisted with surprising vehemence on making it on All Might, and you agreed with him. After all, he was the symbol of peace and had been the #1 hero for decades. Even though this was a move you would have predicted more from Midoriya, you figured if you were going to do this project you might as well do it right.
Bakugou got up to head to bed, but you stopped him before he could leave. “Hey…I didn’t know you were so into All Might.”
Bakugou blushed, nervously scratching the back of his head.
“I mean, we all love All Might, don’t we?”
“I mean, I know I do.” You laughed a little to set him at ease before revealing a little bit of yourself. “When I was a kid All Might was always my favorite hero because of his smile. I always thought that if someone were ever to come save me, I would want them to smile at me like that.”
Bakugou was silent for a moment, thinking about your words.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I was always so impressed by his strength, and the way people loved him. I always wanted to be loved like that. I wanted to make people believe that I could help them. That they could trust me.”
There was a deep sense of vulnerability to his words that made you want to know more and made you want to understand this boy you had clearly underestimated.
“Is that why you became a hero?”
He huffed, retreating back into himself.  “I became a hero to prove I was better than everybody.”
In a way, it was a yes.
“Have a goodnight, Bakugou.”
He stopped in your doorway, looking back at you with a hint of that vulnerability from earlier.
“Goodnight.”
You had been working nonstop for the past 4 days. You had your schedule set up to an unreasonable level of strictness. You would work for an hour, watch a 10 minute motivational video, then work for an hour again. The only real breaks you took were to eat and sleep, and it was starting to wear on you. You just had so much work to do, and you needed to be free this weekend for the sleepover Mina was having, but you were exhausted.
You had finally reached a breaking point tonight, and you found yourself sitting in your bed crying. You weren’t pretty crying either. It was an ugly, exhausted cry, yanked out of you by the hours of work and stress. You had fallen onto your side, curled up in bed as the sounds choked out of you, ugly things breaking you open and cracking your chest and your voice.
Because of all the stress you had been under, you had completely forgotten about your group project. You had met up with Bakugou the first couple of days, but yesterday you had begged off and reschedule for…today. Right now.
You didn’t even hear Bakugou’s polite knock on your door, the same three knock rap he had given the last few days before coming in to work on your project with you for an hour. If he thought you were ignoring him or just not there, it didn’t stop him from coming in. You didn’t notice, completely oblivious to his presence until he spoke.
“Are you hurt?”
He rushed over to your side, rolling over your body to inspect you. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they skimmed over your body, checking for injuries, gently pressing into the divots of old scars. He found no hurt on you though, and pulled back, frowning.
“What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
You sniffled loudly, shamefully wiping your arm across your face.
“I’m fine,” you reassured him, repeating it for your own benefit. “I’m fine, I’m totally fine. Everything is fine.”
“You sound like stupid Deku. Every time he’s ever told me he was fine he was lying.”
You choked out a giggle against your will. “Yeah, he does that doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he does. But unlike Deku you’re not stupid. You want to explain this little episode to me?”
“I’m just…stressed.” You sighed, explaining your situation to him.
He sat back, stunned. “Well no wonder you finally broke. Nobody can work like that. You have to have fun, you idiot!”
For such a nice sentiment, he said it awfully aggressively. He almost made you burst into tears again, but he seemed to realize his mistake, quickly softening his voice again as he floundered for something to say.
“I…you…I’ve never seen you cry before,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I do it. This may come as a surprise but I’m human too, y’know.”
His hands still rested on your thighs, and you looked up at him hesitantly, breath catching in your throat. You had, of course, noticed that he was pretty before. Sharp cheek bones, harsh blond hair, bright red eyes that dug into your soul. Somehow though, he had gotten prettier over the past couple of days as you had gotten to know him, gotten to understand him better.
Before, you had thought he was arrogant. From your conversations though, you knew better. He just cared about people too much. Cared about their opinions too much, feared rejection. You offered up a little piece of yourself in exchange for everything he had admitted to you.
“Remember what I told you about All Might being my favorite hero? I thought to be a good hero you had to always be smiling. You could never show weakness. Not anger or sadness or anything else. That’s why you’ve never seen me cry before. Why I’m always so happy go lucky. Because I have to be.”
There was a pause while Bakugou processed that information.
“That’s…stupid,” he decided. “You shouldn’t hold back on your emotions like that. You deserve to feel things. You can’t dedicate your life to other people like that.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m starting to figure that out.” You stared down at your bedspread.
You were shocked when you felt a warm, calloused hand brush your cheek. Bakugou hesitantly, tenderly wiped the last of your tears away, and you felt something in your heart flutter. You had known Bakugou Katsuki a long time, but you had never known him like this. Looking up into his eyes did nothing to dispel your butterflies when you saw how soft his gaze was. Something in you ached to be looked at like that, to be held in someone’s hands as carefully as he was holding you now.
“Can I…can I kiss you?”
You weren’t sure where the question had come from, and yet you were, because some time along the way of getting to know him you had realized something. Everything you had thought there was to hate about Bakugou was really something to love. Over the course of this project, you had done something extraordinarily stupid. You had developed feelings for a boy who would never like you back. Which was why his next words stole your breath entirely.
“Please,” Bakugou said, his words a sticky sweet, fervent plea.
You blinked, daring to look at him again only to find him wide open to you. He was leaning forward, a look in his eyes you could scarcely describe, a feverish desire overcoming him. His hand on your face twitched ever so slightly in anticipation as you leaned forward.
When your lips met his, you were surprised by the easiness of it. You fell forward into him, arms draped around his broad shoulders as he pulled you in, large hand wrapping around your waist, firm and capable. He tasted like burnt sugar, impossibly so, and it made your head spin, made you dizzy with the sensation. It made you hungry for him.
When he licked your lower lip, you let him swallow you down, hands blazing a fiery trail across your waist to your back, making the trip over and over and burning into you with their warmth. You tugged on his hair lightly, eliciting a moan from him that shot straight through your chest. You gasped into his open mouth, your clumsy kiss flipping when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Everything became easier when you let him take over, let him pull you into his lap up against the hardness of his body and tilt your head to the side just so, pliable and soft in his arms. Kissing him became easy and natural, shivers running through your body as you surrendered yourself to the experience.
When he finally pulled away, you found yourself licking a mixture of your spit and his off your mouth, not even minding how profoundly gross that was. Normally you would have shuddered, but you were far too busy staring at him, mesmerized and breathless.
“You, uh…that was…that was really nice. And I think you’re pretty.” Bakugou coughed. “Do you want to go out sometime? Because obviously you need somebody to distract you from your homework, stupid. Look what you did. Made a mess of yourself.”
You ducked your head into his shoulder at his words, hiding your face and your embarrassment. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.”
He hummed, the sound resonating in his chest and traveling straight to your ear. “Can I…kiss you again then?”
“I thought you would never ask.”
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thanksjro · 3 years
Text
Bayverse: Treating These Movies with More Dignity than They Deserve or Contain, Because I’m a Goddamned Professional - Part One
TRANSFORMERS (2007) - UNCOMFORTABLE SEXUAL TENSION BETWEEN TEENAGERS THAT I DIDN’T NEED TO SEE
So.
This is a little different than what I usually do.
Clearly.
God, how did we even get here?
Oh, I remember.
The date was September 17th, 2020, and I was in a stream with nine or ten other people watching the first Bayverse Transformers movie. Why we were watching it doesn’t particularly matter- sometimes you just gotta watch garbage so you can refresh your palate for the good stuff, I suppose. Also, a couple of folks wanted to make goo-goo eyes at Blackout’s rotors.
...It’s not my thing, but I’m glad they’ve got something to make the journey worth taking.
I made some sort of comment about only using my brain for this blog’s content, and someone (you know who you are :)) suggested that I take a proper look at the film. Being who I am, I immediately latched onto this idea, despite it being technically outside of what I write about.
And then I quintuple-downed, because winners don’t quit.
Good to know that my BA in Film Production wasn’t a complete waste of time.
Fun fact, I broke my television trying to watch Transformers for this. I think the universe was trying to stop me, by making me perform surgery on electronics, and also aggravating my carpal tunnel.
This movie came out when I was 13, and it was the first Transformers thing I saw after Cybertron. Yes, the anime one. No, not the one that’s objectively terrible.
Anyway.
How did I feel about Transformers when I saw it the first time? Well… it was okay. I liked the robots. I thought Mikaela was pretty, not that I knew what that meant back then. I watched it a few times, if only because my oldest younger brother kept renting it at Blockbuster. It was fun.
Now I’m older, and wiser, and know feminist theory, so my opinion is less “this exists” and more “blind, murderous rage”.
Our film opens up with some claptrap about the Cube™, a MacGuffin of ultimate power that allows the Transformers to create worlds in their image and populate them. Which means this is how they reproduce.
It always comes back to baby-making, doesn’t it?
The narration goes on about how the Cube™ is very powerful, and some folks wanted it for good, and others for evil. The criteria for being “good” and “evil” isn’t established, and I’m not exactly sure how one would define such a thing, when all the Cube™ does is create life, but, well, we’ve only just begun. Maybe we’ll get some answers later on.
Haha, I doubt it.
So, the Cube™ is the catalyst for our 4 million year war this continuity, and that sucker was lost in the shuffle a while back. This is a problem, because, again, the Cube™ is how the Transformers reproduce. Now everyone’s in a mad scramble to find the thing so their species doesn’t die out.
Three guesses as to where it ended up, and the first two don’t count.
Smashcut to the shit nobody cares about- the humans. We see an Osprey fly over the Qatar desert, carrying a buttload of American soldiers. We get a taste of some good old-fashioned xenophobia, as several soldiers mock a guy for not speaking English and loving his mother’s cooking, going full “funny haha gibberish language” on him. We’re two and a half minutes into the film, and I already want to stab something.
Ed Sheeran breaks into the conversation, I guess because he was feeling left out, revealing that he is the New Yorker stereotype of the film, for some reason. The fellas ask their captain, Lennox, what he’s looking forward to most about getting home from their tour, and he reveals himself to be a family man. While he’s been away, his wife had a baby, who he hasn’t so much as held yet. His men respond by mocking him.
For loving his child.
We’re three minutes into the film, and the toxic masculinity might actually make me have an aneurysm.
The Ospreys land, the lads disembark, and we get a snapshot of what downtime during deployment looks like to Bay. There are a lot of kiddie swimming pools involved. Two men play basketball. We watch multiple men take outdoor showers. A young Qatari boy brings Lennox a camelback water pack with a smile on his face. This lets me know that he’s a prop and not a character in this film. I can’t wait to see how many horrors he’ll be put through to simulate pathos.
We get a shot of a helicopter flying over the desert, one that the US military doesn’t recognize as their own. They send a couple of planes to check it out, and said planes get their shop wrecked. The helicopter is revealed to be the same ‘copter that was shot down several months prior. That’s… not good. Ghost helicopter?
No. Not at all, actually.
Lennox gets on a video chat with his wife and daughter, who is wearing one of the most ridiculous baby outfits I’ve seen in a hot minute. And I used to work in childcare, so I’ve seen a good amount of those. The writing implies that normal bodily functions are unladylike and therefore undesirable… in an infant… and that’s when all hell breaks loose, thankfully saving me from more of Bay trying to make me give a shit about these characters.
The helicopter lands, we get a shot of the mustachioed pilot, who glitches (gasp), and the line “have your crew step out or we will kill you” is uttered. Not even trying to hide the nationalism, are you?
This film hit theaters in 2007, when the xenophobia from 9/11 was still heavy in the air of the general populace, so things like this were more tolerated, and in fact approved of. Of course, it’s not like America has really improved on that subject, or ever really had a point where we weren’t terrible about it, since we live in a world where the military-entertainment complex exists.
See, the Department of Defense and a good chunk of American entertainment industries have a little deal going, and have for the last few decades, and it goes like this: The DoD will allow the use of their vehicles, personnel, and bases, or the likenesses of such, for free, in exchange for their operations being shown in a positive/morally justified light. This is why you never see the armed forces portrayed in a way that makes them out as anything less than heroes- nobody would be able to afford the sets/likenesses without the DoD’s aid. This is also why you see straight-up advertisements for the military branches on televison, in cinemas, and online, and why both the Army and Navy have flirted with having Twitch channels.
It’s all a ploy to get you to join the military, kids. It’s propaganda.
But enough about that, it’s time for our first transformation sequence!
We get a lot of moving parts with this, since it’s realistic CGI in a live-action movie, and it still holds up. It’s hard to tell what’s actually happening, but it, if nothing else, feels alien, surreal, and horrific to behold. They even included the original sound effect in the cacophony, which is nice.
Our ghost helicopter reveals itself to be a Transformer, not that we get that terminology at any point in this film. This specifically is Blackout, a Decepticon. The soldiers start firing on him the moment he starts transforming, then are surprised when the thing they started shooting with several guns retaliates. This is the point where everything ever in this military base explodes, brilliantly and repeatedly, because it wouldn’t be a Bay film without it. There’s a lot of shouting and bright lights, and I’m positively certain that a great deal of people died during this fight.
It’s just a shame that I don’t care.
Blackout rips the top off of a building like it’s a tin of anchovies, and then snags all the hard drives he can, downloading everything. This is a problem, but it seems like nobody was prepared for a giant alien robot hack-attack, because in order to shut down the power to the servers, you need to be able to unlock the breaker box, and no one seems to have the key. They solve the problem with a fire ax.
Lennox is leading the Qatari boy through the base towards safety. I should mention that it’s night now, and several hours seem to have passed since the Ospreys landed, so I don’t know why this kid is still here. He’s got, like, a house and family to go home to.
We get some more tank-throwing action, Sergeant Epps almost gets flattened under Blackout’s foot, then the movie decides it’s going to try to make things more interesting by having each shot cut flash, for whatever reason.
Someone shoots Blackout with a rocket launcher, I think, and this is the point where he throws his tiny little man off his back to go do his job. Yes, Blackout’s got a baby, and that baby is Scorponok, his symbiotic pal who likes to dig into the ground and be a sneaky little bastard.
Blackout blows up a ton more military equipment and personnel, and then it’s time for another smashcut.
Now we’re in high school, just like all those dreams I’ve had where I’ve forgotten my homework. This is where we meet Sam Witwicky, our main character, and also the stand-in for our target demographic. He’s insufferable, and I don’t like him. Mikaela Banes, our love interest, is also present in this scene, but we don’t get to know about her character for, like, another 20 minutes, because who gives a shit about women, right? They’re just props, right?
Right???
RIGHT??????????
RIGH-
Sam is presenting on his great-great-grandfather, Archibald Witwicky, for his family genealogy report, in front of a class containing maybe three actors who are age appropriate.
I know child labor laws are a good thing, and that hiring adults to play teenagers is just the lay of the land, but I swear some of these students look like they’re old enough to be on their second mortgage and third kid.
Anyway.
Archibald Witwicky was an explorer, one of the first to traverse the Arctic circle, and apparently his crew was made up of folks from 2007, because I swear the clothing for a few of these dudes isn’t period-appropriate. We get a seamen joke, because of course we do, and a sextant joke, because of course we do. Sam is also hawking all this crap he’s brought in for the presentation, because he is a little bastard who has no idea what his peers would want to buy, or really how to relate to them at all. He’s selling these “priceless” artifacts so he can get a car. Mikaela finds this charming, for some fucking reason. Also, her boyfriend is weirdly stroking her shoulder blade with his knuckles the whole time this is happening, and I hate it.
Archibald Witwicky went mad after his expedition, talking about an “ice man” so often that his family ended up locking him in a mental asylum, likely to be forgotten about. Which is sad. But we won’t be getting into the medical mistreatment of the mentally ill in Bayverse, now will we? That’s just Too Deep™.
Sam’s teacher didn’t very much appreciate having his class be turned into an episode of Antiques Roadshow, but still gives Sam an “A” on the project, despite it being a very poor report that lasted all of two minutes. I suspect the teacher has tenure, and therefore no longer gives a shit about academic integrity. This “A” means that Sam’s father will buy him a car.
Which is nice, I suppose, if I gave a damn.
Sam’s father, Ron, picks up his son in a car he probably bought at the crux of his midlife crisis, in a green that reminds me of a school gymnasium floor, then plays a prank on his child by pretending to pull into the Porsche dealership. Sam isn’t getting a Porsche, which is good, because he doesn’t deserve one. As Sam gripes to his father, a yellow Camaro drives by oh so conspicuously. Wonder what’s up with that.
Instead of the Porshe dealership, they head over to the used car lot, which is being run by Bobby Bolivia, who spends his time yelling at his employees and wanting to murder his mother. Sam is incredibly ungrateful about the fact that his dad is helping him get a car, even though it’s his FIRST car, and nobody gets a nice one the first go around. Or, at least, they shouldn’t, given the statistics about accidents with young drivers.
“No sacrifice, no victory” is uttered by Ron, which is the family motto, or so he claims. Archibald Witwicky said the same thing when he had multiple people dying trying to get to the Arctic Circle, so there’s precedence for the phrase, but we’ll see how it holds up throughout the film.
Bobby Bolivia shows Sam and Ron the cars he has for sale, and Sam is immediately drawn to the yellow Camaro in the lot, though there’s a small problem- it’s too expensive for what he and his father agreed to. Also, nobody knows where the hell it came from, so paperwork might be an issue. When Bobby tries to show Sam the yellow Beetle they have right down the line, everything explodes, because this is a Bay film, and fuck the original material this movie was based on. Bobby lets them have the Camaro for a lower price, suddenly fearful of whatever strange powers have just visited his place of business. “The car picks the driver” is suddenly more than a bullshit line to spout off in order to sell cars, and I’m certain that’s shaken the poor man.
Over in Washington, D.C., the Secretary of Defense prepares to address just what the hell happened in Qatar, lamenting on how young the audience he’s going to be speaking to is. In particular, he’s referring to the two dweebs and the hot chick sitting in one of the rows. All the women in this movie who aren’t someone’s mom are made up to be very pretty. And not even in a realistic way. But we’ll get to that in a bit.
So, the military network was hacked. That’s bad. Nobody knows who did it. That’s also bad. The only lead the US has is a soundbite, which is the signal that hacked the network.
Everyone here at the briefing is going to be helping to figure this mess out. This is great, if you like looking at Rachael Taylor for a few seconds at a time, and can compartmentalize hard enough to make that worth the effort of watching this godforsaken film.
Back at the Witwicky household, we meet Mojo, a chihuahua with a cast that doesn’t seem like it’s actually doing anything. I wish he was the main character instead of Sam.
Sam arrives home from the dealership, and says “alright, Mojo, I’ve got the car. Now I need the girl.”
As if ownership of a person is something to aspire to.
As if women are property to be owned.
As if women aren’t people, but rather commodities.
We’re 17.5 minutes into this film.
We’re introduced to Judy, Sam’s mother. She’s shrill, and annoying. This is by design, because none of the women in this film are actually people, but rather archetypes to bounce off of the male characters.
Sam and his father have a moment of what some might consider banter, then Sam gets huffy with his mom over gender roles for the dog. I, for one, think Mojo looks positively dashing in his bedazzled collar, and to hell with whatever Sam says to the contrary.
Sam drives off to go be a misogynist, with the promise to be back by 11PM.
Over in Qatar, the soldiers and that little boy are running from the attack on their base, as Lennox’s wife watches a public announcement on the matter back at home. The Secretary of Defense lets us know that we’re at DEFCON Delta at this point. Lennox Jr. cries, and all I can think about is how they probably pinched that baby to make that happen. They pinched a baby for Transformers (2007).
The soldiers in Qatar talk about shit they have no idea about, Sergeant Epps going on about somehow having been able to see a forcefield around Blackout through his super special binoculars. I don’t know how, or why, he knows this. I don’t know anything anymore.
Ed Sheeran has his doubts about this whole thing, and Lennox is also present in the scene, because I guess he’s important. Through a bit of dramatic irony, Fig- the guy everyone was making fun of for being bilingual at the start of the film- says that this probably isn’t over, as the shape of Scorponok shifts through the sand just beyond them.
Epps is having a minor crisis over the fact that Blackout saw him, but we don’t have time for that, because we’ve got to get to cover. The lads decide to head to the little Qatari boy’s house. Again, I wonder why he was at the base at all, considering that it seems like they’ve been traveling for a good portion of the day.
Back with Sam, he’s picked up his friend Miles, and together they’re going to a lake party. Are they invited to this party? Yes, but also no. It’s public property though, so it should be fine. As they park, Sam notices that Mikaela is here, which is great for him.
Mikaela’s boyfriend, Trent- whose name I had to look up- is a massive tool, and starts pestering the two boys for daring to exist in his airspace. Miles climbs a tree. I’m glad he’s having fun, at least. Sam makes a joke at the expense of people with brain injuries, and this for some reason? Warrants a shot of Mikaela making the blank “pretty girl” face? In response?
Mikaela saves Sam from becoming a wet stain on the grass, which is very kind of her, and more than Sam really deserves. Trent, his boys, and Mikaela start to head off for another party, to get away from Sam and his tree-loving friend. Mikaela offers to drive, and Trent says that she can’t handle his truck, because she’s a ~girl~. This causes Mikaela to ditch him, and start walking home.
The script knows enough about misogyny to know that this would be a nice “take that”. Michael Bay, however, likely fails to see why everything he did with said script involving this character is a goddamned problem.
Because Mikaela, bless her heart, has a lot of problems.
Let’s start with the outfit: a croptop, a jean skirt that BARELY covers her ass, and a pair of wedge heels that are at least four inches tall. On a character that is, at oldest, freshly 18.
Look, I’m all about self-expression and the freedom to choose how you dress for yourself and yourself alone, but this clearly isn’t that. This is a character, not a person, whose wardrobe was designed for the straight male gaze. She’s wearing fucking STRAP HEELS to the lake. This is about oogling. This is about reducing a whole-ass person to the same status as a piece of meat. In fact, who was on wardrobe for this? I’d like to have a few words with-
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A woman? Okay, well, what else has she worked on?
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You can’t be fucking serious.
ANYWAY.
Miles just called Mikaela an “evil jock concubine.” I don’t like Miles anymore.
As Mikaela walks down the road, strutting hard enough that I’ve got sympathy pains in my hips, the radio in the Camaro turns on, playing “Drive” by the Cars, and giving Sam a hell of an idea; he’s gonna drive Mikaela home, so she doesn’t have to walk the 10 miles to her house. Why he knows how far she lives from the lake isn’t addressed.
Sam kicks Miles out of the car and goes to give Mikaela a ride, which she accepts after a bit of self-deliberation, and also him making an ass of himself. The shot here is framed with Sam like he’s a normal-ass person, and Mikaela from her breasts to the top of her waist. Because of COURSE it is.
She hops in the car and then goes off about her taste in hot guys. Which is weird, and out of left field. Sam is about as confused as I am, then continues to make a fool of himself. This is his nature as a person. Mikaela has no idea who Sam is, even though they’ve gone to the same school for the last 10 years and have multiple classes together. And the fact that she was staring him down all through his genealogy presentation. And at the lake.
This movie isn’t very well thought out, I feel.
It’s at this point the the Camaro turns the key on itself and starts to sputter out and die, as “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye pops on the radio.
I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid.
I don’t like how this car is trying to get Sam laid with a girl who didn’t even know his name five minutes ago.
I don’t like how this car knows what sex is.
The Camaro breaks down on a cliff, and Mikaela hops out to work on the engine, and also to get the hell away from Sam’s sputtering.
As Mikaela admires the sweet engine in this Camaro, showing off her knowledge of cars, we get several shots of her from her breasts to her thighs, while Sam is treated like an actual person. Don’t bother trying to play it off as an artistic choice, Bay, this is blatant horndogging. This adds to NOTHING, other than my ire.
Sam says more stupid shit, and Mikaela, who must be the nicest fucking person in the world, just tells him to fire up the engine so she can try to sort out the problem. Then he asks why she goes for jackasses like Trent, and she decides that she’s hit her limit for today, opting to walk the rest of the way home. Good on you, Mikaela. Don’t take Sam’s bullshit.
Sam, realizing that he’s put his foot in his mouth for the 80th time today, pleads with his Camaro to do him a solid and work, and this actually works out for him. Great. Sam, victorious, once again offers Mikaela a ride, which she, once again, takes.
He drops her off without further incident, and she thanks him for listening. Even though they didn’t really talk that much. I dunno, maybe they had a super deep conversation offscreen. Mikaela asks Sam if he thinks she’s shallow, because clearly all women need approval from the men around them, and Sam says that there’s more to her than meets the eye.
Which made me groan aloud.
Anyway, she gets inside without a problem, and Sam professes his love for his new Camaro for allowing him to talk to a girl. Or at least talk at her.
Back in Washington, D.C., at the Pentagon National Military Command Center, we’re making weirdly racist calls on who hacked the military.
Up with Air Force One, a conspicuous boombox transforms into a robot, and then runs off to hack shit. The President of the United States requests some snack cakes. A flight attendant goes down to storage to retrieve said snack cakes, and finds that boombox in the elevator with her. Considering this is Air Force One, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse, and we don’t think here.
The flight attendant brings the boombox down with her and places it on the counter as she goes to get the presidential snack cakes. The boombox immediately disappears. Now, you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing, but this is Bayverse-
The flight attendant opens up the snack cake package, for some reason, and drops the cake on the floor. She then proceeds to eat it, and then act shocked when it tastes like floor. There’s a robot in her fucking line of sight, and you’d perhaps expect her to immediately be suspicious of such a thing-
She leaves to go feed the President floor cakes, and our little robot friend gets to work stealing government secrets. He, if nothing else, looks pretty cool doing it. He’s a very pointy lad.
Back at the Pentagon, Maddie- Rachael Taylor’s character- can hear the hacking. This sends everyone into a panic, because, well, that shouldn’t be happening. The hacking noise is a direct match to the one from Qatar, so that’s obviously a problem.
Back on Air Force One, our little robot friend is looking for “Project Iceman”, which he very quickly finds, and downloads everything they’ve got on it, and also plants a virus. The process seems to be… doing things to him. It’s weird. This movie is weird.
The Pentagon cuts all the system hardlines, stopping the process, but it’s too late- he got what he wanted, just about. Two security personnel come into the room, and the robot kills them both with some spinning blade disc nonsense. Air Force One is forced to land for the safety of everyone on-board. More security detail comes in to deal with the little bastard, but he transforms into a boombox and sits on a shelf to avoid suspicion. Now, you’d perhaps expect-
With the plane grounded, our robot is able to walk his little ass over to a cop car. And when I say walk, I do mean walk; this fucker is in multiple folks’ line of sight and nobody notices a thing. When he enters the car, he’s greeted by the mustachioed driver- the same driver who was operating the helicopter at the beginning of the film. This mustache man is a holographic avatar, one that’s being used by all the Decepticons.
We get our first real taste of Cybertronian language, as our robot- it’s Frenzy, his name is Frenzy- lets everyone know that he’s found a clue to the location of the AllSpark, and, through the power of the internet, knows where to find the guy who’s gonna give them what they need.
Three guesses to who it is, and the first two don’t count.
Back at the Witwicky household, Sam’s car does a runner in the middle of the night. Sam, horrified that his property is being stolen, pursues on a bike, screaming at his dad to call the cops. Sam also calls the cops, as he tears through the neighborhood.
The Camaro breaks into an abandoned building, Sam follows, and we finally get a shot of our audience appeal character. Sam watches in disbelief as a giant yellow space robot shines a beacon into the sky, then makes a video on his flip phone recording the experience. He apologizes to his parents for owning pornographic magazines, and goes to face his probable demise.
However, death does not come from above, instead manifesting itself as two of the strongest junkyard dogs in the known universe, who break their brick-inlaid chains to get at this little dip of a man. Sam is chased through the yard, climbing on top of a couple precarious oil drums, even though there’s a ladder, like, right there. The Camaro rolls in, scaring off the dogs, and Sam bolts, throwing the keys to his ride at his ride. When he gets outside, the cops have arrived, and immediately arrest him.
Back with the US government, the Secretary of State is having a conversation about all the bullshit that just went down with Air Force One. He and his fellow cishet old white men discuss their options, until Maddie comes in to set them straight on some of the facts. They act all indignant about it, because women can’t be smart, right?
Right???
RIGHT??????????
RIGH-
Anyway, we get a weird little deflection of Maddie’s role in everything, because a woman is nothing without the men around her, then she brings up the point that the bullshit that happened on Air Force One went down in just a few seconds, which isn’t something that anyone can actually do. She brings up quantum mechanics, which everyone blows off as nonsense- not that I wouldn’t as well- and theorizes on a DNA-based computer, which is technically a thing, if not trapped in the realm of speculation. It’s at this point that the Secretary of Defense tells her to come back when she can back these wild claims up, and isn’t just clearly spitballing.
And then he snaps his fingers at her, and any point he might have had leaves my brain so I have more room for being enraged.
Back with Sam, we’re at the police station talking to the cops. His dad is here, and Sam is trying to explain that his car is a dude. Even though he took at a video (one that was likely crap, given how quickly he spun his phone around to show off what he was seeing) the cops, understandably, don’t believe him. Then one of them, not so understandably, starts… threatening Sam? With his sidearm? And daring him to try something? This isn’t any sort of statement on the corruption of American law enforcement, it’s just bizarre.
Back in Qatar, our soldier buddies have found a telephone line, and are going to try to use it to get in contact with the rest of the world. It’s just too bad that Scorponok’s decided to make an entrance, and knock said telephone line the hell down. Ed Sheeran has next to no reaction to this, despite it happening maybe ten feet behind him. Fig speaks Spanish, and Ed Sheeran makes a point to be an asshole about it.
Scorponok is about to stab Lennox with his very pointy tail, when Epps notices- finally, someone with peripheral vision- and starts shooting. Then everyone starts shooting, kicking up enough sand to blind themselves, as Scorponok scuttles away, buries himself, then reappears behind Ed Sheeran.
Ed Sheeran does not survive this experience.
The others bolt, not wanting the same to happen to them, and for the fourth time I wonder just why the hell this young boy was at the base in the first place.
Off in the distance, the community of a nearby town wonders just what the shit is going on out in the desert. Our soldiers run into the town, and everyone gets their guns and start firing on Scorponok, who retaliates, because why the hell wouldn’t he?
Lennox demands that the young boy take him to his father, and proceeds to borrow his phone. As shit goes down outside, we have a sort-of gag where Lennox is trying to contact the Pentagon, while a telemarketer tries to get him to buy a phone package. In order for this call to go through, he’s going to need a credit card. This is where the well-known “pocket” scene comes from, as Lennox searches Epps’ pants for his wallet as he fires on Scorponok. It’s probably the best-written thing in this whole film.
With the credit card acquired, Lennox finally gets through to the Pentagon, and tosses Epps the phone so he can talk. Maybe he’s got anxiety about speaking on the phone, I dunno.
Scorponok shows off his disregard for historical architecture, blowing up several buildings, and the US government just watches this all go down. One of the actors in this scene looks like my dad, and it trips me up every time he’s on screen. Anyway, now the Pentagon knows about the giant space robots running around in Qatar. They send over some air support about it. All this manages to do is piss Scorponok off.
So they try it again.
This time it works, sort of.
At the very least, he’s left now.
Tail fell off, though.
Also, Fig’s been grievously wounded. The others, for once, don’t make fun of his native language while they help him hold his blood inside his body.
Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s looking to prove that the bullshit that’s been going on is of the sci-fi variety, and in order to do that, she’s going to need a little outside help. She takes the information from the Pentagon, slaps it into an SD card, hides that shit in her blush compact, and then runs out the door to Glenn Whitmann’s house. Or, rather, his grandma’s house.
Glenn is a hacker, and shouldn’t be seeing anything that Maddie’s brought him, but everyone knows that confidentiality is for nerds, so whatever.
Back at the Pentagon, Maddie’s immediately been caught. It’s almost like slapping the military network onto an SD card maybe wasn’t such a hot idea. But what do I know?
Glenn takes a look at the soundbite and figures out that there’s a code embedded in the thing in about two seconds. Good to know our tax dollars are being well-spent on the US military, that some dude in his jammies can figure this shit out faster than a whole team of analysts. They figure out that “Project Iceman” is involved with this somehow, and also the existence of Sector Seven. It’s at this point that the FBI busts in. Good. I kind of want Maddie to go to jail for this, because she was about as stupid as she could be handling the situation.
Glenn’s cousin goes through a closed glass door- don’t worry, it’s tempered- and there’s a weird cut before that exact same shot continues, and he’s tackled into the pool. There was no reason for that to have happened, but here we are.
Back with Sam, we’re treated to him in his boxers, shooting basketballs in his room. He goes into the kitchen, where Mojo is standing on a stool. It’s a very tall stool, the sort you sit on, and he’s just… there. I don’t know how he got there. There’s no one else in the room besides Sam, and I know he didn’t put him there.
Clearly this must mean Mojo is God, and being on that stool is his divine will. I will be approaching the rest of the franchise with this in mind, because it’s clearly the only answer.
Our merciful Lord Mojo jumps up on the kitchen counter and begins growling at something through the window. Sam looks out… the opposite window… to find that his Camaro has returned to him, and is less than thrilled about it, to put it lightly. He drops a jug of milk- luckily it was mostly empty, given the sound it makes when it hits the floor- and gives his buddy Miles a call. You remember Miles, don’t you? If you don’t, it’s fine, because he reestablishes his quirkiness with a single shot, as he sits in a swimsuit and bathes his huge-ass dog in a kiddie pool, and answers the phone with a headset he just happened to be wearing. He must get a lot of calls during Dog Washing Hours.

After giving us one of the most intense voice cracks I’ve ever heard, Sam books it out of his house, hopping on a bike to escape his murderous Camaro. He’s not seen the thing commit any murders, mind you, but he seems pretty convinced that it would do the job, given half a chance. Also, this isn’t the bike he rode the night before; that one is likely being chewed on by those strong-ass junkyard dogs. No, for some reason, the Witwickys have a pastel pink girl’s bike, with the fun little handle tassels and the basket and everything. As far as I can tell, Sam is an only child, and if you think Bay’s going to allow for a teenage boy to have the vulnerability to own a pink bike, you’ve not been paying attention for the last 48.5 minutes.
The Camaro gives chase, rolling after Sam on his bike at a brisk 7 MPH down the friggin’ sidewalk, one of the only scenes in this travesty of a film to actually get me to crack a smile. Sam races through town until city planning puts a stop to him, through the magic of using chunks of cement to decorate the mulch around their trees. He crashes his bike, faceplants into the concrete in front of Mikaela, and promptly dies, thus ending the film.
No, he doesn’t die. I just told a fib. I’m sorry.
Instead, he does a flip and lands on his back, likely receiving a concussion, in front of Mikaela and her friends. Her friends laugh, because everyone hates Sam, as they should, and Mikaela says that what he just did was “really awesome.” Don’t try to be nice, Mikaela, this is Sam we’re talking about; you could stick the dude in the freezer overnight and he still wouldn’t be even remotely cool.
Sam gets back to the whole “running away from a car” deal, and Mikaela decides that this is the sort of thing she’d like to do with her day, so she ditches her friends in the middle of their scheduled Burger King™ time to go see what the hell Sam’s on about.
As Sam is chased by the Camaro who is being chased by Mikaela on her motorized scooter, a cop becomes involved, tearing through the streets to join this ridiculous game of tag. Now, we’ve seen two different flavor of cop so far- the mustachioed avatar cop car that picked up Frenzy from the airport, and the dude who threatened a teenage boy with a gun after accusing him of being under the influence of drugs. Either way, I don’t think this is going to turn out well for Sam.
Sam’s cornered himself under one of those really wide bridges where people can park their cars, which wasn’t terribly smart, but it’s Sam, so this is about par for the course. The Camaro manages to miss him, but the cop car does not. Sam is actually pretty cool with the cops being here, as if they could do anything about “Satan’s Camaro.” I guess he didn’t see the decal on the side of this car that says “to punish and enslave…”
Sam attempts to approach the car for help, and gets clotheslined by a car door for his troubles. He hits his head on the pavement, certainly exasperating the brain injury he received not ten minutes ago. Still, he continues to try to talk to the holographic avatar through the windshield, revealing that the bike he’s been riding is his mother’s. Mystery solved, I suppose.
The cop car doesn’t much appreciate being slapped on the hood, and begins to rev violently at Sam, threatening to run him over several times. Then it explodes into being a robot. Sam, who’s seen a lot of really weird shit in the last 24 hours, nopes out of the situation. It’s at this point that I realize he’s wearing a shirt for the band the Strokes. I don’t know why that stuck out to me, but it did. Guess my brain needed something to latch onto during all this.
Sam is running as fast as his little legs allow, as our newest robot friend takes up a leisurely jog to keep pace. Then he kicks Sam. He kicks Sam’s body like the football. This, of course, instantly turns Sam into a bag of jelly and kills him, thus ending the film.
No, he doesn’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.
Sam somehow survives being punted by a giant metal leg and lands in the windshield of a car that doesn’t turn into a robot. Then he gets yelled at by the cop car. This is Barricade, a member of the Decepticons, and Sam’s got something he wants. Or, should I say “LadiesMan217” has something he wants.
LadiesMan217 is Sam’s Ebay username. This is both stupid because no teenage boy existing beyond the year 1985 would have ever called himself that, and also because it’s just stupid.
Barricade wants the glasses Sam presented for his genealogy report, and he wants them NOW. Seeing as the thing he wants is for sale, and nobody had been bidding on it, one would wonder why Barricade and his associates didn’t just try to purchase them like upstanding citizens. Perhaps Decepticons don’t understand the concept of money, or perhaps they don’t have a stable address to have the glasses shipped to. Or perhaps nobody considered that angle when the script was being put together. Who can say?
Sam gets back to running away from Barricade, we see where Mikaela got to, and the two of them collide. Sam rips Mikaela off of her scooter, and they both fall to the ground. Mikaela, who did not buckle the clasp on her helmet, asks Sam what his fucking problem is. Then his problem shows up, and they take a very long time to get up so they can run. So long, in fact, that the Camaro has to swing in to save them. After much pleading from Sam, Mikaela gets inside Satan’s Camaro, and the two of them are whisked away to safety. Barricade pursues, and then the butt rock starts.
There’s a lot of screaming and yelling, the Camaro busts through a window and several shelves in an abandoned building, there’s some drifting, and then suddenly it’s nighttime. Barricade somehow got in front of the Camaro, and is circling like a shark. The Camaro locks the two teenagers inside itself, though I suppose they could climb out through the still-open windows if they really wanted to. The Camaro cuts the engine off, then cuts it back on and bolts for the exit, and this somehow tricks Barricade long enough for them to get past.
The Camaro dumps Mikaela and Sam out one of the doors and then transforms into that yellow space robot we saw a bit ago. It’s Bumblebee! Nearly an hour in, and we finally get a proper look at the little bastard. I guess that’s what happens when you spend the first 20-something minutes on being xenophobic and appealing to the focus groups that think it’s fine sexualize high schoolers.
Bumblebee- no, he’s not introduced himself yet, but I just can’t keep calling him “the Camaro” anymore- comes out of his transformation ready to square the fuck up. Barricade throws himself at Bumblebee, they roll around on the ground for a bit, then things start sparking and exploding, because this is a Michael Bay film. Frenzy jumps out and starts chasing down Mikaela and Sam, while Bumblebee and Barricade murder death punch each other. Frenzy manages to grab Sam by the ankles, drag him to the ground, and rip his pants off. Not sure how that happened, considering he’s still got his shoes on.
While Sam’s busy being chased by a sentient pile of safety pins, Mikaela’s taken it upon herself to be proactive about her survival, and is raiding a nearby building for power tools. She sprints out holding an electric jig saw and saves Sam by decapitating Frenzy. If you know anything about Transformers, then you know this doesn’t actually kill Frenzy, but good on her for being a badass. Why couldn’t Mikaela be our main character again? Oh, right, because she’s a ~girl~.
Sam punts Frenzy’s head, like, 50 yards, which seems like something he shouldn’t be able to do, given that he’s a massive weenie, but there you are. With that out of the way, Sam takes Mikaela’s hand and they run off to go watch the giant robot fight. The bottom of Frenzy’s head turns into a spider and he crawls his way over to Mikaela’s purse. He’s gonna steal her gum, the fiend!
Mikaela and Sam have, unfortunately, missed the giant robot fight, which means that we, as the audience, have also missed the giant robot fight. Which is unbelievably stupid, seeing as everyone who has ever watched this movie came for the GIANT GODDAMN ROBOTS.
Mikaela asks just who the hell the yellow robot is, I guess because she’s finally had a second to process what the hell’s going on. Sam claims that he’s a super-advanced robot, “probably from Japan.” Whether or not this is a reference to the Japanese origins of the original toy line isn’t clear, though somehow I think it’s more xenophobia. Sam also makes the claim that if Bumblebee had intended to hurt them, he would have done it by now. This is quite the jump from a few hours ago, when he was calling the poor guy “Satan’s Camaro.”
Sam finally, finally asks Bumblebee what his deal is, and we get our first taste of the Bayverse Bumblebee Gimmick. The Gimmick here is that, due to an injury to his vocal processing, Bumblebee cannot communicate through traditional means, i.e. speech. Because of this, he instead strings together sentences by flicking through the radio frequencies and choosing key words. This can lead to some interesting audio design, like describing his fellow Autobots to “rain down like visitors form heaven, Hallelujah!” because a radio sermon fit what he was trying to say best.
This gimmick is one that has been used in other pieces of Transformers media, at least in part. Bumblebee is unable to speak traditionally in Transformers: Prime, and instead communicates in beeps and clicks that his teammates can understand, but not so much the humans, save for Raf. In Bumblebee (2018), the idea was used whole-cloth, with the injury resulting in his inability to speak happening on-camera within the first 10 minutes of the movie, and the idea of “expressing oneself through music” being introduced by his human companion Charlie Watson.
All in all, I rather like the idea going on here; it’s an interesting part of his character that opens up for a lot of interesting and creative moments.
It’s just too bad it was introduced in fucking Bayverse.
But yeah, anyway, the other Autobots are coming to Earth. Shit’s gonna be lit.
Bumblebee turns back into a Camaro, and Sam uses the power of FOMO to get Mikaela to go in the car with him. We get a shot of Barricade fucking dying on the side of the road. Frenzy murders Mikaela’s phone, and then steals its identity, including the little bejeweled heart stickers. Good thing Mikaela remembered to go get her purse, otherwise he probably would have felt very silly doing that.
Mikaela refuses to sit in the driver’s seat, seeing as she now knows Sam’s car is sentient, and sort of feels weird about this whole thing. Sam suggests that she sit in his lap instead, as the camera angles to give us a peek at the cup of Mikaela’s bra. When asked why the hell she should do such a thing, Sam says it’s a concern about her safety, given that the middle console of the car does not have a seatbelt. Sam either fails to recognize that seatbelts going over two layered bodies won’t save either of them in the event of a crash, or he’s just trying to make an excuse to have a pretty girl in his lap.
Given what movie this is, I’m going to guess it’s the latter.
Mikaela has a similar line of thought, but scoots over anyway, saying that the seatbelt line was a “smooth move”. It wasn’t, but if I picked apart every single bad line Sam had in this film, I’d be here all day.
Mikaela questions Bumblebee’s taste in alt-mode, which offends him to the point of dumping both her and Sam out in the street and driving away. He returns, moments later, as a sleek new Camaro, that I’m sure some car aficionados would call “sexy.”
Bumblebee’s alt-mode is a 2009 Chevrolet Camaro, of which there were none during the time of filming. It was put together for this movie in roughly five weeks. Sam is blown away by the fact that he now owns a car that does not currently exist in his universe. Mikaela is impressed, or at least she would be, if women were allowed to show that emotion in a non-horny way in a Bay film.
Judy doesn’t count.
As Bumblebee breaks into yet another restricted area, we get a shot of the Earth from orbit, as several objects rocket towards the planet. Sam and Mikaela watch the Autobots burn up in the atmosphere, and Mikaela tries to hold Sam’s hand as they do, and it’s at this point that I have to address how much I hate these two’s dynamic.
I don’t give a single solitary shit about this romance, because A) it’s poorly written, B) Mikaela could do infinitely better than Sam, C) I dislike Sam so very much, D) Mikaela, who is a way more interesting character, got placed on friggin’ love interest duty because ~girl~, and E) it’s useless padding to try and make me care about what’s happening here, and I just DON’T. I do NOT care about whether these two get together or not.
We see the Autobots crash-land, three out of four of them causing massive amounts of property damage and possibly killing at least one person. Their stasis pods crack open, and they each climb out, completely naked and in desperate need of clothing to hide their shame. With a quick scan of nearby vehicles, they’re once again decent to be seen in public.
Bumblebee drives the kids out to what I can only assume is the warehouse district he sent that beacon out in, as our collection of good guys finally come together at long last. A massive Peterbilt semi-truck stops directly in front of Mikaela and Sam.
We’re over an hour into this film, and we’re just now getting to the quintessential Transformer, Optimus Prime himself.
In the original cartoon, Optimus’s alt-mode was what’s known as a cabover truck, one where the cab- where the driver sits- is seated directly over the engine. These were popular during the days when maximum truck-lengths were much shorter than they are currently. This is why when you look at height charts for Optimus over various continuities, his G1 cartoon counterpart much shorter than his other iterations.
Modern trucks are longer, and don’t need the cab to sit on top of the engine to save on space. The designers chose to use a Peterbilt to make sure that Optimus would have an imposing stature when compared to his fellow Autobots.
Because heaven forbid we not have heightism come into play in this film.
Our Autobots transform, and say what you will about these bastards being visually incomprehensible, the transformations themselves are cool as hell. My personal favorite is Jazz’s, where he does a cool windmill into his root mode.
Optimus crouches like he’s looking at a cool bug on the sidewalk and addresses Sam by name. He doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela, which I find to be a bit rude, but whatever. He then introduces himself as the leader of the Autobots.
Peter Cullen is back as the voice for Optimus Prime, sounding wonderful as always. He almost wasn’t brought on for this project, because Michael Bay didn’t want him. If the fans hadn’t thrown a hissyfit, who knows who we would have gotten to be our space dad for the next hour and a half?
This is actually an issue that’s recurred several times in the last few years, and not just with Cullen; Frank Welker, the voice of Megatron, as well as many other Transformers, has been refused roles within Transformers properties. In general, this is because both Cullen and Welker are union actors, and Hasbro would prefer to hire sound-alikes than pay more money for the originals. This isn’t to shame the non-union actors, goodness no, just to merely point out less-than-fantastic business practices.
I realize there have been a lot of tangents, but you have to understand that I am suffering as I do this.
Optimus then introduces his team- there’s Jazz, whose first line is “What’s crackin’ little bitches?”, Ironhide, who incorrectly quotes Dirty Harry, and Ratchet, who calls out just how obnoxiously horny Sam’s character is. We also finally get Bumblebee’s name.
Mikaela asks the very good question of why the fuck the Autobots are here on Earth. Optimus explains that the AllSpark is here, and they’ve got to get to it before Megatron does. He then goes on to explain who Megatron is, stating that he “betrayed” the Cybertronian empire.
No, how exactly he did that isn’t addressed. We’ll just have to take Optimus’s word, I suppose.
If you’ve sussed out by this point the the AllSpark and the Cube™ are the same thing, congrats! You win. Megatron followed the AllSpark to Earth, where he promptly was neutralized by the cold of the Arctic circle. This was 110 years prior to the events of this film, and where Archibald Witwicky came in to the story.
When the expedition was happening, Archibald fell through the ice during a collapse, and ended up finding Megatron’s frozen body in an ice cave. He went poking around on this strange metal giant, and ended up activating Megatron’s navigation systems, which imprinted the coordinates of the AllSpark onto Archibald’s glasses.
Don’t ask how that works, it just does.
So, the Autobots need the glasses, so they can find the AllSpark before the Decepticons do, so those guys don’t use it to build an army out of Earth’s machines, which will destroy humanity.
Sounds simple enough, let’s go get that vision correction device!
Back with the military dudes, everyone’s taking a gander at the tail that Scorponok left behind. They theorize that the metal that makes up these giant murder-robots reacts to extreme heat, but elaboration on that point will have to wait, because the tail has begun to flail. They quickly strap it down, then call the military to let them know to strap anti-tank guns onto anything that’s going to be approaching any giant robots.
Meanwhile, in an interrogation room, Maddie and Glen have been left to sweat a bit. Glen takes to stress-eating, while framing it as a psychological tactic to subconsciously prove his innocence to the FBI.
This is a fat joke, with the added nasty layer of Glen being a black man about to be interrogated by one of the most intimidating white cops I’ve seen in a hot minute.
Glen immediately folds, pinning all the blame on Maddie, and claiming that he’s been a perfect angel his whole life. We get some weird purity culture out of him, before Maddie lets the FBI know that she needs to talk to the Secretary of Defense, NOW.
Over at the Witwicky household, Sam’s parents are watching the news, trying to find out what all those loud crashes were about. Optimus Prime drives down their residential street, the rest of the gang in tow, then they all park to wait for Sam to go get the glasses.
For about 20 seconds.
Sam has to physically hold the door shut to prevent his father from coming out and seeing several very tall robots from outer space tip-toeing around his freshly-landscaped yard, I guess because they got antsy. Optimus plods around on the grass and breaks a fountain, and our benevolent god Mojo comes out of the house, assuredly to smite the leader of the Autobots.
Mikaela runs onto the scene, and Sam chastises her for not controlling the robots who didn’t even acknowledge her existence, outside of pointing out Sam was sexually attracted to her.
Mojo pees on Ironhide’s foot, which prompts Ironhide to threaten to shoot the creature. This is why Ironhide isn’t getting into heaven. Sam, one of Mojo’s chosen few, claims that the mortal shell of his god is seen as a beloved pet by many humans. Sam runs into the house, before Mojo can incur his divine wrath on the Autobots.
While Sam goes to get the glasses, the Autobots decide to do a little peeping on the house, watching his parents watch TV. Sam tears his room apart trying to find the glasses, and Optimus thinks that it would be helpful if he brought Mikaela up to help look. It’s at this point that I realize that Sam has an utterly bizarre fish tank.
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I mean, legitimately, what the fuck is this? No filter, no plants, might not even have any rocks on the bottom. Is this a comically oversized bong Sam threw a couple fish into? What the fuck.
Mikaela starts looking for the glasses, running into what is likely a box of porn mags, then they both look out the window to find that the Autobots have decided to hide in plain sight by transforming... in the middle of Sam’s backyard. Amazing work, gentlemen.
Sam finally convinces the Autobots to go sit in the alley and wait, only for Ratchet to run into a power line and trip into a greenhouse. The resulting impact is interpreted as an earthquake. Judy does not have the reaction one might expect from someone who’s lived in California for at least ten years.
Ratchet’s fine, by the way.
The power cuts out, and Ron goes up to check on his son, because he’s at least a halfway-decent father. Ratchet’s shining a light to aid in the search for the glasses. Sam’s parents notice this bright light, and bang on Sam’s door to see what’s up.
Sam quickly hides Mikaela and then attempts to salvage the situation, answering the door and trying to control the narrative. Unfortunately, Ron is far too inquisitive for Sam to do this, and then Judy asks if Sam was masturbating.
Judy, is privacy just not a thing to you? Because if not, it really ought to be.
She keeps going with it too, trying to come up with code words, until another one of the Autobots trips and causes Ron to panic again, climbing into Sam’s ancient claw-foot bathtub to protect himself. He looks out the window to check on his beloved yard, lamenting that the earthquake tore it up.
Ironhide is strongly considering killing Sam’s parents. Optimus tells him that they don’t harm humans, and also begins to wonder if he made a mistake bringing this guy along.
Back in Sam’s room, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Sam is an absolutely terrible liar, and Mikaela reveals herself, if only to prevent Judy from trying to talk about self-pleasure again. Of course, now she gets to be subjected to both of Sam’s parents objectifying her, so this might be a lose-lose situation.
Sam is reminded that his backpack is in the kitchen, just in time for the government to show up at his house. Mikaela makes a comment about Judy being nice. I suppose on a surface level, yes, being told that you’re gorgeous by someone’s mom is nice. I do have to question the context that compliment took place in, however.
Sam’s about to hand the glasses over to the Autobots, when someone rings the doorbell. It’s Sector Seven, and they’re here to talk to Sam about his stolen car being part of an issue involving national security. Ron and Judy are more concerned about their yard being torn up, Judy yelling that they “need to get their hands off [her] bush.”
We still have another hour of this movie.
The agent leading this mission asks Sam to come with him for questioning, which his parents are very much against. Mojo also voices his displeasure, but it would seem that Agent Simmons is not a follower of the Tenets of Mojo. Sam gets geigered, and his readings are high enough for Sector Seven to take him and everyone in this house into custody.
As Sam and Mikaela are riding in the back of the car, Simmons brings up Sam’s Ebay account, and also the phone video he took of Bumblebee earlier in the week. Mikaela is rather unimpressed with Sam at the moment, probably because he’s gotten her arrested. She still tries to help him out though, because she really is just the nicest fucking person on the planet.
Alas, the combined efforts of these two teenagers isn’t enough to fool the long arm of the law, especially when it’s a branch of said law that deals with extraterrestrial activity. Simmons threatens to lock up these literal children for life if they don’t start talking. Mikaela isn’t taking the bait, so he goes after her father’s parole hearing instead.
Yep! As it turns out, Mikaela and her father stole cars to get by, and she’s got the record to back that claim up. Simmons calls her a criminal, then says that criminals are hot. Mikaela looks like she’s about to cry, and I don’t blame her in the slightest.
Optimus, I suppose because his dad senses were tingling, takes the opportunity to place his leg in the road for the car to run into, then grabs said car like an unruly cat and lifts it until the roof rips off due to stress. The agents in the other cars pile out and point their guns at the giant space robot. The rest of the Autobots quickly relieve them of their weapons.
Optimus notes that Simmons doesn’t seem surprised that a bunch of giant robots just took all his guys’ guns, and demands that he exit the vehicle, posthaste. Simmons obliges, after a bit more prodding. Mikaela undoes Sam’s handcuffs, and he gets fucking pissy about it, as if this girl he’s had a grand total of three (awkward) conversations with should have told him something as personal as “hey, so my dad’s in jail and I’ve been to juvenile detention.”
Luckily, she doesn’t let him get away with it, calling him out as the spoiled, self-centered, privileged little shithead that he is.
Of course, we don’t get any sort of real acknowledgement from Sam, having to move on with the plot. Perhaps, if we hadn’t spent the last hour and 20 minutes faffing about on drivel, we could have had Sam get an actual moment of self-reflection, and potentially even character growth. However, this is Bayverse, and everyone knows that personal accountability is for fucking sissies.
Mikaela and Sam ask several questions, but get no answers from Agent Simmons. And then Bumblebee pees on him.
I hate that I had to write that. I hate it very much.
Anyway, I don’t know why that had to happen, but it did, and I’m nothing if not thorough.
Optimus tells Bumblebee to cut it out, and with that the Sector Seven agents are cuffs and left on the side of the road. Mikaela orders Simmons to strip, as punishment for threatening her father, then cuffs him to a street lamp.
...Yes, that does sound like a bizarre sexual fantasy, doesn’t it?
Unfortunately for our teen heroes, they forgot to confiscate everyone’s phones, and Sector Seven knows what’s up, thanks to the power of speakerphone. More cars and a couple of helicopters show up basically immediately, and the Autobots decide it’s time to dip.
But not before Ironhide fires off a pulsewave into the ground that causes a five-car pileup.
Optimus, I suppose because he knows he chose a ridiculously flashy alt-mode that is in no way practical, just picks the kids up in and places them on his shoulder like a couple of parakeets, then takes up a leisurely jog to get away from the eyes in the sky. He runs through the city, racking up what is likely millions in property damage, as the helicopters pursue. He passes by a “Legalize LA” billboard, which feels odd to see, given what movie this is.
The ‘copters somehow manage to lose Optimus, despite him being relatively slow, and having a notable radiation level that they’ve been using to track him. He hides inside the scaffolding of a bridge, only for Mikaela and Sam to slip off of his polished body to their deaths, thus ending the film.
No, they don’t die. I just told another fib. I’m sorry.
Bumblebee snatches them up just before they hit the ground, the impact of his metal body catching them at 75 mph, killing them instantly and ending the film.
Nope, that doesn’t happen either.
Mikaela and Sam are fine, some-fucking-how, but Sam’s dropped the MacGuffin glasses. The helicopters swing back around, having noticed the sound of a car crashing into the ground and the screams of two whole adolescents. They break out a fucking harpoon gun and fire on our kid appeal character.
Repeatedly.
They wrap up Bumblebee in a series of cables, as he screams like a moose. Mikaela and Sam are held at gunpoint by what is honestly far too many dudes, and are then arrested for the second time in ten minutes. Bumblebee is smoked... because he’s a bee? Sam, not liking this one bit, finds the strength in his weenie body to push a cop off of himself, run at one of the dudes with the smoke guns, throw him to the ground, and then start smoking him. He’s immediately tackled, but points for trying.
Sam and Mikaela are placed back into custody, and the rest of the Autobots regroup with Optimus to see what the plan is. Optimus says that they can’t save Bumblebee without hurting humans, so I guess Bumblebee is just a POW now. Well, at least they got the glasses. That’s cool.
Back at the Pentagon, things are getting dicey, as the other world powers are starting to suspect that something’s up. The Secretary of Defense is approached by a man with a mustache and a briefcase. He’s from Sector Seven, but the Secretary gives not a fuck about mysterious organizations. All the computers in the room suddenly go down, the virus from earlier working its magic- only this time, the blackout is global.
Mr. Mustache opens his briefcase, while explaining that Sector Seven is something known as a “special access” sector of the government, which is why nobody’s ever heard of it; it’s beyond top secret. Commissioned by President Herbert Hoover 80 years prior, it deals with alien life.
When the Beagle 2 spacecraft was lost on the way to Mars in 2003, the mission was declared a failure. This was a lie. The Beagle 2 recorded several seconds of Mars before being crushed to death by a Transformer. This tidbit is pretty funny, given that the Beagle 2 was rediscovered on Mars in 2014, seven years after this film released. Not a terribly mysterious death anymore, is it?
Comparing the footage from Mars to the footage from Qatar has Sector Seven thinking that these are the same species. Which they are. God, it’d be so fucked up if there were two species of giant robots in this film.
Mr. Mustache theorizes that because the Transformers now know that they can be harmed by human weaponry, they’re being proactive about their safety and shutting down all forms of communication technology with that virus that keeps popping up. It’s only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan for humanity.
Mr. Secretary tells his guys to try going analog with comms, breaking out the short-wave radios, to tell their ships to return home.
Over at an Air Force base, Lennox and the gang have landed, only to be scooped up by a bunch of dudes in suits.
Back with Maddie and Glen, the two of them have fallen asleep in the interrogation room, Maddie still wearing her friggin’ four inch pumps as her legs are propped up on the table, crossed in a way that seems rather uncomfortable. Glen gets to sleep like a normal human being, with his head resting on his forearms. Why this place doesn’t have a holding cell for these situations is beyond me.
Mr. Secretary comes in to bring Maddie on as his advisor. Glen can come too, I guess, considering he’s the one who actually figured out the sound file virus.
We get a little military glorification, and then it’s revealed that Mikaela and Sam, as well as Maddie and Glen, are aboard this helicopter. Their paths cross at last. Our heroes are transported to the Hoover Dam, where Bumblebee is also. They are still smoking him.
Meanwhile, the Autobots are figuring out where to go, with the power of Archibald’s glasses. Ratchet, who I guess is omnipotent, senses that the Decepticons have also figured out the location, and that this is going to be a race against the clock. And I mean, he’s right, but the phrasing is a bit odd.
Jazz wants to know when they’re going to save Bumblebee. Optimus says that they aren’t, and that Bumblebee’s sacrifice is noble, and that he would want the Autobots to leave him and complete the mission. As this is said, we get another shot of Bumblebee getting smoked and trapped in a lab. Yep, this is totally what he would want. He absolutely signed up for this, giving himself up to the government and not at all fighting like mad to not be captured.
I don’t think Bayverse Optimus actually knows what martyrdom is, which is bizarre, given that it’s a major trait in a lot of other iterations of the character.
Ironhide isn’t even sure why they’re bothering to save humanity, given that humans are violent and awful, his point being hammered home as Bumblebee is tortured for scientific reasons. Ironhide seems to have forgotten that Cybertron has been at war for literally millions of years. Optimus has faith in humanity, however, stating that we’re “young”.
And then he says that he’s going to end his own race, by destroying the Cube™, which is how they reproduce, because that’s the only way to end the war.
Which is arguably one of the most hardcore fictional applications of eugenics ever conceived.
Being advocated for by Optimus Goddamn Prime.
We still have another 50 minutes of this movie.
Optimus then proves that he does, in fact, know what self-sacrifice is, stating that, if all else fails, he’ll shove the AllSpark into his spark, which will destroy them both. He’s pretty chill about it, too.
Up on top of the Hoover Dam, Frenzy has fallen out of Mikaela’s bag.
Mr. Secretary is also at the Hoover Dam now, as is Lennox’s team. Oh, and Agent Simmons, who is thankfully wearing pants. He offers to buy Sam a coffee, as repartitions for threatening his family, arresting him, and being a complete creep to a teenage girl. Sam gives not a fuck about caramel macchiatos with extra foam and chocolate drizzle, however. He only cares about his car.
Mr. Mustache, who is also here, needs Sam to spill the beans on all these friggin’ giant robots that are running around. This is where Sam realizes he has the upper hand for once, and he starts making demands. One such demand is having Mikaela’s record scrubbed clean, which is an actually very nice thing for him to have done for her. We’ll see if his intent comes to fruition. For now, it’s time to talk about Bumblebee.
We get a shot of all these folks heading into the secret base hidden inside the Hoover Dam, and it’s at this point that I notice that Maddie’s shirt is basically see-through.
Inside the Dam, we see that Sector Seven′s been keeping Megatron this entire time, keeping him neutralized with cryo-stasis since 1935. Cryopreservation was invented in the 50′s. This isn’t a nitpick, I just thought it was a neat little fact.
Megatron being on Earth has resulted in most modern technology. This sort of plot point always bothers me, because it takes away agency from the entire human race. We didn’t use our own ingenuity and work ethic to advance society, we plagiarized from a more advanced species. I dunno, it just rubs me the wrong way.
We get the part of the movie where info is hashed out, so that everyone is on the same page, Sam spouting off Autobot propaganda. We can forgive him for this,considering he’s 16, and no one is immune to propaganda, especially when they have zero way of doing their own research to form their own opinion with.
Sector Seven also has the AllSpark, kept in the room next to Megatron’s, like the chumps they will soon find themselves to be. It’s about ten stories tall and the reason the Hoover Dam exists. With so much concrete suppressing its alien energies, surely no one will ever find it!
Except for Frenzy, who came in through a mouse hole. Whoopsie-doodle!
The AllSpark zaps the nasty little man, restoring his body with its weird MacGuffin powers. Frenzy tells all his coworkers that he found what they were looking for, and everyone starts heading over.
Maddie asks Mr. Mustache what exactly he means by “energies”, perhaps worried that this whole thing has been some elaborate ploy to get her to invest in magic healing stones. Mr. Mustache brings everyone into a testing chamber, since the best way to explain how the AllSpark works is through a demonstration.
There’s a big fish tank in the middle of this testing chamber, in which Agent Simmons places a donated device from the crowd- Glen’s Nokia phone, specifically. Simmons makes a geologically-confused comment. When this is pointed out by Maddie, Mr. Secretary hushes her, simply saying that Simmons is a strange man. The tank is locked down, and then the show starts.
Cube™ energies are shot into the tank, and the phone explodes into life, transforming into a gorilla-shaped gremlin creature. Happy birthday, little dude!
Little dude starts shooting at the tank walls, cracking the glass until Simmons pulls the trigger and ends it. Happy deathday, little dude!
The Decepticons are making tracks towards the Hoover Dam, but Starscream- yeah, he’s in this now, don’t worry about it- arrives first, because he is a very fast jet. He transforms, showing off his ridiculous Dorito body, and fires on the base’s generators. The resulting explosions can be heard all the way down in the testing chamber, and Mr. Mustache calls upstairs to see what’s up. Looks like Megatron may be getting warmed up, seeing as his ice bath has been cut off. Lennox asks if there’s an arms room in Sector Seven, which sort of feels like asking a bakery if they have any flour.
Frenzy has entered the room that houses the controls for the cryo-stasis and set that whole system to “no, thank you”.
Mr. Mustache runs through the base, screaming for everyone to get to the Megatron chamber. Off in the distance, the Autobots approach. Could probably used some fliers on your team, huh Optimus?
Back with Frenzy, he’s decided to just straight-up raise Megatron’s core temperature directly. Hope he doesn’t do it too fast; rewarming hypothermia victims recklessly can do some serious damage.
Outside of the base, Lennox and the boys are loading up with weaponry, along with what’s the entirety of Sector Seven′s cannon-fodder department. Oh, and all the main cast. Yep, just got a couple of teenagers chillin’ in the munitions room.
Sam wants Simmons to take him to his car- he hasn’t used Bumblebee’s name in a hot minute, not sure what’s up with that- even though Simmons is currently busy loading a very large gun. Simmons doesn’t want to do that, because he’s got no idea if what Sam mentioned earlier is even true, and he doesn’t want to pin the fate of humanity on a single Camaro. Lennox takes this opportunity to tackle Simmons, despite likely not knowing that Bumblebee is one of the “good guys”. A Sector Seven guy very much doesn’t like that, and points a gun at Lennox, which prompts all of his guys to also start threatening folks with guns.
Mr. Mustache walks in on the scene, but doesn’t do anything, since he isn’t armed and knows better than to tangle with someone who’s packing. Simmons tries to intimidate Lennox, because he must have missed the day of boot camp where they tell you that guns kill people. Lennox is fully committed to shooting this dude in the lungs before Mr. Secretary suggests he give the people what they want, before things get ugly.
Simmons takes everyone to the robot torture department of Sector Seven, where they are still smoking Bumblebee. Geez, you’d think they’d have something in place for if they ever came across another giant robot after Megatron, but I guess not. The gang gets everyone to stop smoking Bumblebee, which allows him to stop moose-screaming and strongly consider murdering everyone involved with his forced captivity. Unfortunately, revenge with have to wait, as we’ve still got to deal with the AllSpark, and the fact that the Decepticons are here.
They take Bumblebee to the AllSpark, where he makes direct contact the thing, causing the AllSpark to transform, compacting itself down into a far more reasonable size that Bumblebee can carry in one hand. It doesn’t seem to weigh more than a grown adult, if his body language is saying anything. I’d make a joke about the conservation of mass being ignored, but since this is Transformers, I can’t really say much. Conservation of mass doesn’t exist for this franchise.
Bumblebee would really like to get this show on the road, and Lennox agrees, quickly formulating a plan to get away from Megatron and taking the AllSpark to Mission City, which is relatively close to their current location, so that they can hide it there.
Lennox, I know this plan is a first draft, and we don’t have a ton of time for revisions, but the whole point of building a whole-ass dam around the Cube™ was because it was very difficult to hide, given its magical MacGuffin powers. Regardless of this flaw, Mr. Secretary agrees. Lennox also asks that the Air Force be involved in this, I guess because the U.S. military wanted more screentime.
Of course, that whole “global blackout” thing is still going on, so we’re going to have to get creative with how we’re going to contact the Air Force. Mr. Secretary and Simmons make a break for the WWII-era radio Sector Seven has, while Lennox and the boys head out to shoot things, and Mikaela and Sam hop into Bumblebee with the Cube™.
This is about the point that Megatron wakes up. The first thing he does is introduce himself, which I thought was very polite of him. Then he breaks out his flail and starts bashing shit around. Not so polite, that.
Over with Bumblebee, we’re shown that the AllSpark, all-powerful object that can create life and is the whole reason this conflict is even happening, is just chillin’ in the back seat by itself. It’s not even buckled up.
Megatron escapes the base, and it’s actually super easy. He just transforms, goes through the tunnel, and he’s free. I feel like we could have at least attempted some security measures for in case the cryo-stasis failed, given that we’ve had this dude in containment for the last 70-something years, but okay.
Starscream comes over to say hi to his boss, not that Megatron gives a shit. He just wants to know where that fucking Cube™ is. When Starscream tells him that the humans have it, Megatron makes a comment about how Starscream has failed him yet again. This is their first interaction in this movie, and Starscream’s been in the story for a grand total of five minutes at this point. I know that this is a reference to their dynamic in just about every installment of the franchise up to this point, but it doesn’t feel earned in the slightest. Even if it’s going to be expanded upon in future sequels, this is a shit-tier way to set their (awful) relationship up.
Not that anyone should ever bank on getting a sequel anyway, but that’s a discussion for another time.
Megatron tells Starscream to retrieve the AllSpark, and then we cut over to the radio plotline. The radio, which is so cobweb-covered I feel like Sector Seven needs to have a serious discussion with their custodial staff, has its nobs and buttons fiddled with by Simmons until it crackles to life. But where are the microphones? Everyone starts looking for the mics, as Simmons pushes Glen into the seat, I guess because hacking modern computers and using Depression-era radio tech are similar enough.
Maddie asks Glen if he can hotwire a 90′s-era computer to transmit a tone through the radio, so that they can send a Morse code message to the Air Force. Which sounds ridiculous to me, but I don’t know enough about radios or computers to know if that sort of thing would be possible. Maybe it’s fine. Or maybe it’s Hollywood bullshit. Who knows?
Back over with Bumblebee, we get a bunch of car commercial shots, of both him and the other Autobots. Aww, the gang’s back together again! Nobody tell Bumblebee that Optimus was completely cool with leaving him to his fate.
Optimus and the gang whip around to join the convoy, and everyone makes their way towards Mission City.
Back at the radio subplot, someone’s bangin’ on the door, trying to get in. The others try to block the intruder, while Glen does his hacking stuff. Mr. Secretary breaks a case and pulls out a gun that’s about as old as he is.
Glen gets the computer working, and Mr. Secretary gives him the Super Secret Military Codewords™ to use to talk to the Air Force. While he does that, Simmons finds a flamethrower and starts burning Frenzy as he attempts to enter the room. The Air Force receives the message for an air strike. Oh, goody.
Over with the convoy, it appears that the Autobots and Lennox’s boys are being pursued by the Decepticons. It’s difficult to tell, seeing as the cameras have gone full Bay-mode, but I’m guessing that’s what’s up. One of the Decepticons flips over a minivan, likely killing a family of five. another causes a multi-car pileup.
Bonecrusher transforms, then Optimus transforms. Bonecrusher iceskates across the highway, slamming into a bus so hard it just straight-up explodes. He is on fire. He tackles Optimus, and they proceed to fall off the side of the raised highway they’re on. Then they beat the shit out of each other, until Optimus decapitates Bonecrusher with his arm-sword.
Yeah, space dad is a little intense in the Bayverse.
Back at Sector Seven, Frenzy’s decided to leave the door alone, and instead is crawling through the ventilation shaft. Mr. Secretary and Simmons fire off shots into the duct above them, as if bullets would do anything against this nasty little pile of needles.
Frenzy bursts through the bottom of the duct and crash-lands into a glass case, taking cover behind a pillar and fires on the humans on the other side of the room. While this shootout is happening, Glen receives a response from the Air Force, just in time for Frenzy to accidentally decapitate himself with one of his own spinning blades of death. This time, he does not survive losing his head.
The Air Force will be sending fighter planes to Mission City, and to establish this, we get several shots of what some might call “military porn.”
Over in the city, the convoy has arrived. Lennox hands several short-wave radios over to Epps, telling him to use them to direct the Air Force when they arrive, so they can take the AllSpark... somewhere, I guess. Above, an F-22 zooms across the sky. It is not one of the Air Force’s F-22s.
Ironhide recognizes Starscream, and gets ready to throw down. Bumblebee grabs a nearby Furby truck and hoists it up to use as a shield. This marginally works, as the missile that hits the truck doesn’t immediately kill him, though it probably did all those Furbies inside.
The resulting explosion throws all the humans around, Mikaela getting weird heaven lighting as she lies unconscious on the pavement. Sam gets it too, though, so I suppose I can’t complain too much about this particular shot. They touch hands. I really wish that I could take this moment of vulnerability as being anything other than an attempt to set up a romance between these two teens who have known each other for maybe half a week. This movie has so starved me of genuine human interaction I'm jumping at the smallest of scraps.
Bumblebee actually didn’t get out of that missile-strike unscathed, his legs having been blown off. All those Furbies died for nothing. Tragic. Sam asks Bumblebee if he’s alright, and immediately tells him to get up. Sam then remembers that Bumblebee’s legs are off, so he yells for Ratchet.
Over with Lennox and Epps, they’ve realized that the plane they saw wasn’t one of theirs. Which, you know, has already been established, but points for getting caught up, fellas. Sam is crying and still telling Bumblebee to get up. Bumblebee is dragging himself across the pavement and whimpering. It’s awful. Where the fuck is Ratchet? This is basically the only reason he’s in this film, and he’s nowhere to be found.
The actual Air Force calls on the radio, asking for their location. Brawl, who is a tank, starts firing on Lennox’s gang. Jazz and Ratchet race through the city streets. How they were separated from the rest of the team is anyone’s guess.
Sam takes a little sit on the pavement to be with Bumblebee, while Mikaela decides to problem-solve and heads for a nearby tow truck. Bumblebee hands Sam the Cube™ because, as the designated protagonist, it’s his job to handle it in the climax of the film.
Ironhide is shot at several times by Brawl, narrowly avoiding being hit each time. This, of course, means that the people he drives by in this shot are almost assuredly dead, since they’re right next to the explosions. He transforms and does a flip, as the film goes slow-mo on a shot of a woman in a low-cut dress watching him flip. She screams. Ironhide screams. I scream, though probably for a different reason.
Jazz jumps on Brawl, managing to kick off a couple pieces of kibble before Brawl grabs him and throws him into the side of a building. Ironhide, Optimus, and Ratchet descend on Brawl, and so does Lennox’s team, Brawl losing a hand and getting thrown into his own building as a result.
Mikaela breaks into the tow truck and starts to hotwire that shit. Wow, a relevant back story that culminates in her being able to save the day, thus completing her arc and staying on-theme for her character. Why isn’t Mikaela the protagonist again?
Oh, right, because ~girl~.
Megatron lands in a nearby alleyway, and Ratchet, knowing this dude is bad news, tells everyone to head for the hills. Jazz isn’t fast enough, however, and gets shot for his troubles.
Mikaela drives the truck over to Sam, who is still sitting there with the Cube™, and tells him to get his ass in gear.
Jazz gets taken to the top of a nearby building and is ripped in two by Megatron, who acts like a bird of prey the whole sequence. Down on the ground, Brawl is starting to get back up from his smackdown. Blackout appears on a nearby skyscraper. Things are looking grim for humanity.
Mikaela and Sam hook Bumblebee up to the tow line as Lennox approaches them. Sam has left the AllSpark out of his line of sight, like a fool. Despite seeing this, Lennox still gives him the flare to let the military know where to pick up the AllSpark. Doesn’t even acknowledge Mikaela. He tells Sam to head for the white building with statues on top of it and set the flare on top of the roof. Lennox can’t leave his men, because he’s the head of his operation. Why he can’t send literally anyone else who isn’t a 16 year-old boy isn’t made clear.
Sam really doesn’t want to do this, probably because he’s a child, but Lennox has recruited him to the military against his will, so he must. Lennox then attempts to make Mikaela leave for her own good, but she tells him to fuck off, because she’s gonna save Bumblebee. Clearly, this is a win for feminism.
Epps radios the choppers coming from the Air Force to let them know they’ll be picking up a package from a teenager, thus locking Sam into the job. Ironhide and Ratchet vow to protect Sam from the Decepticons on his way to the pickup point. Not one single person has pointed out how fucked up this is.
Sam starts to run off, when Mikaela stops him to let him know that she’s glad she got in the car with him roughly an hour ago. They don’t kiss goodbye, which, honestly? Good. This fucking movie hasn’t earned that. Sam for sure hasn’t earned that, even if he did clear her juvie record. No word on that having actually been done, by the way. Sam never got confirmation, and I feel like he’s not really the type to follow up on things.
Brawl fires off some shots and makes things explode. Ratchet and Ironhide provide cover fire as Sam sprints down the road. Yep, they’re making this idiot WALK to the pickup point. Sure hope the elevators are working today, otherwise this is going to take forever.
Sam carries the AllSpark like a football, and in a better movie, this would have been foreshadowed by Sam having actually been a football player prior to the events of the film, perhaps removed from the team for some character flaw he’s since grown from/accepted. However, this is Bayverse, and well, men don’t have to justify their existence in the story with things like themes and having even an ounce of thought put into their character.
Back with Mikaela, Lennox has refused to learn her name, calling her “girl” as he screams at her to get Bumblebee hooked up to the tow truck. Which she was already doing when he got here. Lennox, dude, you’ve got a daughter now, you’re super extra not allowed to treat women like this.
Optimus Prime pulls through an alleyway and crashes into a pile of garbage. I can forgive him being late, seeing as he is a big rig, and probably had to take the long way into town so he didn’t get stuck in too-low tunnels. Don’t worry about how we briefly saw him during the Brawl take-down. This is his for real entrance into the climax.
He whips around and transforms, ready to throw the fuck down. Megatron spots him from his perch and descends.
Y’know.
Like a vast, predatory bird.
Megatron shoots at Optimus in his alt-mode, and Optimus catches him like a frisbee. Unfortunately for Optimus, it would appear that the horsepower on a Cybertronian flightcraft is hella intense, and he’s carried away. The two of them crash through an office building, then roll around in the streets punching each other in the face, debating the worth of humanity as they do so. Wish I actually gave a shit about either of these people, but alas! The film spent most of its runtime objectifying women and insulting minorities. I know nothing about Optimus, and even less about Megatron.
Megatron transforms his arms into a laser gun, and Optimus does the same. They shoot at each other. Optimus gets thrown into a building, then lands on the sidewalk below, definitely crushing a dude underneath him, but I guess we didn’t check that the shot was clear for where the CGI was gonna go, so he’s fine.
Sam’s still running through the streets, while Blackout murders, like, so many people behind him. Starscream lands in front of Sam, running into roughly 30 cars as he skids to a halt. Ratchet and Ironhide fire on him, as Sam takes a breather behind a car. Starscream transforms and blasts off. He was here for about 15 seconds. Sam begins running again.
Megatron is now following Sam, because he wants that Cube™. Sam is hit by a car- not an evil one, just a regular car- and trips. The impact makes the AllSpark activate, which grants several machines in the vicinity the gift of life, including the car full of bitchy women that just hit Sam, who are upset that hitting a human being might have scratched the paint.
I get it, you hate women, can we PLEASE stop beating this dead horse?
Sam finally gets to the pickup building, which turns out to be abandoned and fenced off. Good thing the gate was open, otherwise things could get really complicated. He heads inside, Megatron crashing through a floor-to-ceiling window shortly behind him. Megatron makes the claim that he can smell where Sam is. I’m going to choose to believe that he isn’t lying here, since Ratchet did something similar earlier.
Sam finds the stairs, and Megatron calls him a slur.
He doesn’t, really, but the voice modulation certainly makes it sound that way.
While this is happening, Mikaela is driving the tow truck down an alley, dragging Bumblebee behind her with the tow cable. She stops for a moment to have a short breakdown, seeing as she is a teenager in what is currently a warzone.
Sam is still running up the stairs. Outside, the military shoots at one of the Decepticons. It is, of course, doing absolutely nothing to the giant metal space robot. Mikaela concludes her moment, looking back at Bumblebee, who gives her the okay to keep going with dragging his ass across the pavement. She whips the truck around and tells Bumblebee “I’ll drive, you shoot.”
Mikaela then proceeds to speed down a main road of this sizable city backwards, running into cars and more or less shoving Bumblebee along to his destination.
The military has finally realized that their efforts have been pointless, but it’s okay because Bumblebee is here with his superior firepower. Bumblebee proceeds to shoot Brawl in the chest, which kills him. After this, he tries to act cute, lifting up his battle mask in a very “did I do that?” way, as if he’s not the same guy who ripped Barricade apart earlier.
Sam, meanwhile, has finally reached the top of this dilapidated building. Helicopters are approaching his location, but will they make it to him before Megatron does? Honestly, I’d be more worried about Starscream on the building just due East.
Sam is just about to hand the AllSpark over, when Starscream fires at the ‘copter, causing it to crash and nearly chop Sam to pieces. Optimus Prime runs towards the scene, on a roof that I refuse to believe could actually support him. Megatron punches thought the roof from the bottom and asks Sam some philosophical questions. Sam can’t answer, given that he’s hiding on the edge of this building, his flimsy grip on one of the angel statues being the only thing keeping him from falling.
Megatron tells him to give him the AllSpark, and in exchange he might not kill him immediately. Sam tells him to fuck off, and Megatron flails the chunk of building he was hanging on to, causing Sam to fall to his death, thus ending the film.
I’m lying to you. Michael Bay is making me into a liar.
No, Sam is, instead, caught by Optimus, very likely breaking several ribs on impact. This is the point where I realize that they’ve given Optimus fingernails. Sam clings to him like a baby koala, as Optimus parkours down the sides of two buildings, Megatron in pursuit. Megatron actually lands on Optimus 2/3rds of the way down, causing the both of them to fall onto the pavement below. How Sam survives this is a mystery.
Megatron recovers from the fall first, flicking a human away from him for having the audacity to exist in his space. The flicked person hits a car, and is almost assuredly dead. At least, I sure hope so, given that this is the director cameo by the Bayman himself.
Feminist icon Megatron?
Feminist icon Megatron.
Optimus comments on the fact that Sam almost fucking died to get the AllSpark out of dodge, and we get the return of “No Sacrifice, No Victory”. Which, I mean, I guess he’s allowed to say that, since he’s actually had to do something that warranted it. His dad doesn’t get to, though.
Optimus then tells this teenage boy, who has already had a hell of a day, to kill him by shoving the AllSpark into his robot-soul-heart, should he be unable to defeat Megatron.
I dunno, I just feel like it’s a bit of an ask.
Sam climbs off of Optimus so the Prime and Megatron can rumble. He runs through the ruined infrastructure of the city, so he’s less likely to be crushed. Optimus tells Megatron to square the fuck up, stating that “one shall stand, one shall fall.”
Then he gets ragdolled around a bunch, so maybe he should have saved the talk for later in the game.
The military is running around some more, stopping in an alley to see Blackout transform to root mode. Yes, the goo-goo eyes were indeed made by several members of the watch party that started this whole thing. People went wild for Rotor-Cape Johnson.
The fighter jets from the US military are arriving in a minute. Epps warns them to aim for the robots that aren’t evil. Lennox and the gang spread out, reminding each other to aim for the underboob, since Transformers’ armor is weak there. Epps marks Blackout with a little green light, which Blackout almost immediately notices. Blackout fires on the military.
Lennox has stolen a motorcycle and is driving through the streets to circle back around and jump off of the bike, sliding on his back to shoot Blackout directly in his underboob. Wonder what his uniform is rated for for road rash.
Sam is watching as Optimus gets his ass handed to him. Up in the sky, Starscream commits identity theft, and then attacks the Air Force. The Air Force can multitask however, and light Megatron the fuck up. Sam has, for some reason, come out of hiding, and Megatron uses this to his advantage, trying to take the AllSpark from him.
Optimus tells Sam to put the AllSpark in his chest, but Sam has a better idea. He shoves it into Megatron’s chest, which has been basically shot open at this point. Megatron makes a Space Invader noise, convulses a bit, then falls over dead.
Congrats on your first murder, Sam.
Optimus tells Megatron’s corpse that he got what was coming to him, then implies that they’re brothers. What flavor of brother isn’t established, but neither was basically anything between the two main faces of the franchise in this film, so it’s fine.
Ironhide walks up holding the two halves of Jazz. Optimus informs Sam that he now has a life-debt to this child. Whether or not Sam is absorbing any information at this point is up in the air. Mikaela shows up, with Bumblebee in tow.
In tow.
In tow-
Sam stares at her blankly. Mikaela stares back, making the pretty girl face. Man, what a great dynamic these two have.
Jazz is dead. That sucks. Optimus is handed his corpse to hold, while he thanks his new friends for helping out.
Then Bumblebee talks and he’s fucKING BRITISH.
Sam is obviously shocked by the fact that Bumblebee is British able to talk now, since not talking has been his whole thing up to this point. Optimus doesn’t let it phase him. Neither does Ratchet, despite having been working on Bumblebee’s throat injury for centuries at this point.
Bumblebee wants to stay on Earth with Sam. Optimus is just like whatever. Sam agrees to have a sweet Camaro from outer space.
Optimus pulls what is left of the AllSpark out of Megatron’s chest. I’m sure that’s not a setup for potential conflicts, not in the slightest.
Over in Washington, D.C., the US President has ordered Sector Seven be terminated, and all the Transformer corpses be disposed of. And by “disposed of” they mean “thrown into the ocean.” Dang, sure hope Earth signed some sort of agreement with the Transformers so that they never come to Earth again. You know, just be proactive about our galactic safety.
The Linkin Park kicks on, as Optimus gives us our bookend narration, telling us what the Autobots plan to do now that their race is at a genological dead end. As he does, we see Lennox reunite with his wife and child, who I had genuinely forgotten were in this movie.
Optimus is pretty chill with Cybertron dying out, because now they know about Earth. We get a shot of Sam and Mikaela making out, a shot that becomes more and more horrifying the further they zoom out, because they’re making out on top of Bumblebee. Who they KNOW is a sentient creature at this point.
And then it gets even worse, because the shot changes, and oh hey! Turns out that the rest of the Autobots were just chillin’ off to the side while this went down. Optimus continues his monologue, just walking around in his root mode as he tells all of Makeout Point how they’re “robots in disguise” now.
The monologue is actually a transmission he’s sending out into space, inviting any of his leftover pals to come kick it on Earth with them, because Earth is pretty cool.
And that’s where they leave us.
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IT TOOK THREE PEOPLE TO WRITE THIS SCHLOCK.
So. Bayverse 1. A film showcasing xenophobia, misogyny, and toxic nationalism. It’s rough. Is it the worst film I’ve ever seen? Not even close, but it’s bad, and it was a huge deal at the time of release. Everyone was seeing it, everyone knew the actors and robots, everyone had a scene that they liked. Everyone was exposed to Bayverse, and as a result, a lot of people entered the Transformers franchise thinking that it was all like this.
And really, how far off would they have been in 2007?
When a franchise refuses to introduce female characters until years after being established, when all those female characters have the exact same body type, when a franchise hires misogynists to write stories, when it allows shit like “Prime’s Rib!” to be published- no wonder Michael Bay was approached to direct.
What a mess.
--------------------------
COMING SOON:
TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN (2009) - MEGAN FOX I AM SO FUCKING SORRY
TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON (2011) - WILL YOU JUST STAY DEAD
TRANSFORMERS: AGE OF EXTINCTION (2014) - SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW SHUT UP ABOUT THE LAW
TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT (2017) - ACTUALLY, FUCK CONTINUITY
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baubuttercup · 3 years
Text
Mini Garcia pt1/ Spencer Reid
Summery: Y/N is the new Tech Analyst intern under her mentor Penelope Garcia and has just started her first day at the BAU. During a case Y/N get a few calls from a not so familiar boy genius who seeks her help...or does he seek more? 
Spencer Reid x Reader
Warning: Fluff/none 
A/N: This is the first of many stories i will be writing and i look forwarding to writing more. I haven’t fully edited it but hope you enjoy it :)
Please Interact for more Spencer Reid/ MGG fics!!
“you will be fine trust me, you are already a natural and thats coming from yours truly” you were so nervous because today was your first day working at the BAU as a Tech Analyst Intern. Penelope was the one who got you the job working along side her. She was your teacher, mentor, and even your close friend and you knew working with her would be nothing less than entertaining. “P what if they don’t like me or I don’t fit into their group, you told me that they were like family” you followed the women wearing a floral dress with glittery high heel through the halls of the FBI coming to a stop next to two glass doors. “Y/N before we go in you are going to take three deep breathes and snap the hell out of it, cause you my little prized protege, will fit in just fine, so stop over thinking and pull yourself together”. I inhale three breathes before she pulled the glass door opened guiding me into a large room which from memory i think she had called it the “Bullpen”.  As we walked in i noticed in the corner of my eyes a man and a women eyeing me up and down. The man was large and muscled, he was appealing to the eye, just not preferably my type “Babygirl who is this fine little thin-” Penelope put her hand out barricading me from the man “cool it hot cakes, she is pure” I chuckled under my breath at her immediate response “This Derek chocolate thunder Morgan is the new Intern, working beside me as i mentor her into become the next best Garcia, Y/n meet Derek Morgan” we both extend our hands to go in for a friendly handshake “Oh and this fine ass piece of women is Jennifer Jareau” I smile shaking the pretty blondes hand “JJ for short its lovely to meet you” she hesitated for a moment before continuing “You seem so young, if you don’t mind me asking how old you are” I nervously try not to stutter upon my words “Oh um-m yeah i’m 20, but I got into the early acceptance program for computer programming and coding at Georgetown and now i’m here” Derek and JJ both exchange stairs before Derek opens his mouth “you, princess should meet our resident genius, i’m sure you two would get along quite well” JJ chuckles before giving Derek a smirk “OH YES how could I have forgotten about boy genius, where is he by the way” A tall dark haired man and a slightly shorter Italian looking man appeared from behind us “Reid and Prentiss are at a conference they will be meeting us in San Francisco” He looked intently at the group surrounding me then turned to look at me “You must be Y/N L/N, i’m Aaron Hotchner but please call me Hotch, and this is David Rossi, we are happy to have you on board, Garcia has spoken very highly of you” both men shake my hand firmly “I’m glad to be on board sir and thank you for this amazing opportunity” Hotch goes to say something before he was cut off by a text message appearing on his phone. “Wheels us now, they need us down their asap, Garcia brief us on the plane” and with that they were all making their way to the elevator. “Come on little Einstein we have work to do”
--
Garcia had just finished briefing the team on the case they were assigned to. From what i could catch it was about a Zodiac killer who had been killing over a decade ago and has recently just started up again. I tried to listen in and take note on everything Garcia was doing because god knows this job is fast past and i don’t want to fall behind on my first day. I found myself continuously zoning out thinking back to what that Morgan guy said about a “resident genius”. Who was he and why was Morgan so sure we would get along. So many questions were crossing my mind, before i heard Garcia’s voice continuously saying “Earth to my little oracle, hello, Y/N come back down to earth little one” i snap back to reality seeing Garcia waving her hand in front of of me “oh sorry- P who was that resident genius Morgan spoke about earlier” she spun in her chair making eye contact with me smirking “Oh my god yes Reid, how could i forget again. So you didn’t meet Emily Prentiss she is a total kick ass babe who is super cool and Spencer Reid who is a total genius with an eidetic memory and a whopping I.Q of 187″ i began to open my mouth to say something when Garcia interrupted “you guys would totally be so cute together, i need to set you two up, it would be a match made in heaven” I blush, a little taken back by the abrupt comments made by Garcia who is now really cheery “P calm down i haven’t event met the guy and i think you are a little in over your head” she looks at me still smirking “you are already intrigued by him aren’t you” just as i was about to stop her, the computer phone began to ring and the caller I.D was most clearly someone i didn’t even know yet but for some reason already was under affect by “ANSWER IT” Garcia motioned to the headset on my head “no i don’t even know what to say” she pointed at me with her fluffy unicorn pen “answer the phone i trained you for this” I reluctantly answered and within seconds i was met with a masculine yet soft voice on the other line “Hey Garcia I need you to track the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an internet cafe” I immediately got butterflies in my stomach, no stop Y/N you have never met this person and Garcia is just getting in your head, you continue to remind yourself. “U-mm i’m sorry I-I’m not Garcia i’m Y/N L/N the new Tech Analyst intern” I began to fidget with my figures staring between the plasma computer screens and Garcia “Oh Hi, I’m Reid, I mean I’m Spencer, let me start over I’m Dr Spencer Reid but you can call me Spencer or Reid, nice to meet you” my nerves begin to calm at the sound of his voice and the fact that he sounded just as nervous as me. I look to Garcia as she was smiling and motioning her hands to continue the conversation “Oh um-m sorry, you needed me to track the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an internet cafe...right?”I patiently await his response, which seemed like forever “Yeah, if you can do that, that would be great, thanks” I look to Garcia once again as she gives me a reassuring smile of encouragement before i turn to the monitors and type away, I remember everything Garcia taught me about the bureau system and was surprising easier to manoeuvre once actually assigned to a task “Hey um Reid, you still there?” thinking maybe he hung up “still here buttercup...um i mean Y/N” Garcia nudged me overhearing what Reid had just said and was cheering in the air, I quickly regained focus “so yeah unfortunately the unsub used a prepaid credit card, so I don’t have an I.D, i’m sorry” i felt my nerves regain their position in my stomach as i thought i didn’t do a good job “Thats okay, thanks for your help L/N and am excited to meet you in person, hopefully soon” I blush quickly at his comment, this going unnoticed by Garcia who is in her own world of happiness at the moment. “Yeah same goes for you, take care and if you need anything else you know where to find us” I end the call not wanting to make anymore of a fool of myself than i already have “BUTTERCUP, HE CALLED YOU BUTTERCUP” I groan at Garcia’s response already embarrassed by the ordeal “Y/N i know Reid and i have know him for many years, never in my time of being in boy geniuses presence have i ever heard him call someone BUTTERCUP” a million things swoop through my mind in that moment, why did he call me that, was it a fluke, was he just trying to be friendly, what am i saying i have literally never met this guys before its for sure nothing. I turn my head to Garcia giving her a please stop looking at me face, before she puts her hands up in defence” Okay okay i’ll stop, but you guys would make cute babies” she whispered the last part just loud enough for me to catch it. 
--
As time goes on I observe everything Garcia continues to do in order to find the details of the unsub. This job although seeming like fun is very high pressure and i made sure i noted down everything that Garcia done so i didn’t seem like the biggest failure in front of the team, or one team member in particular. The phone rang once again causing Garcia to answer it “He who seeks the queen of all knowledge, speak and be recognised” I chuckle under my breath at the witty response before i felt a tap on my shoulder “Pretty boy wants to speak with you” I give her a confused look “Boy genius, girly” I straighten up and answer my headset “Hello L/N speaking” i try to analyse why on earth he would want to speak with me and before he got a chance to answer a million conclusions were rushing through my mind “Hey L/N, long time no speak” there was a pause in the background before i heard a male chuckle and whisper “thats one way to get the girl Reid” he cleared his throat before continuing on “So i just thought i’d give you more training so can you run something for me” I physically prepare myself for what he is about to ask, ensuring i don’t screw this up “I need you to compile a list of people with I.Qs of 160 and above in the region” I type away trying to speed up so i don’t slow the team down “I’m checking with the bay area mensa society which is kind of slumming cause folks can get in with a measly I.Q of 130″ Reid chuckled at my statement making me feel more comfortable about what i was doing “try and check old school records, we’re looking for someone who is in his 20′s or 30′s” as I am intensely try my best to recover these names it appears in front of me “BINGO, Caleb Rossmore and Harvey Morell, they both have I.Qs over 160 and get this they both use to write about the Zodiac in their junior high school newspaper” I smile at myself, kinda proud at what i just accomplished on my own “thats amazing, thanks Y/N and tell Garcia she has the best intern” I smile to myself satisfied that i done something right and that Reid thought so too. “Yes that’s my little Einstein, ah you are moulding into a beautiful little Garcia, how proud i am right now
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The team had just got back from catching both Caleb Rossmore and Harvey Morell and Garcia had gone to greet Morgan at the elevators. I had stayed behind packing my belonging as i was ready to head home to my fluffy dog Milo and sleep for hours. A knock on the door startled me. I abruptly turn around and was met with a tall figure who had beautiful brown eyes and shaggy hair. “Hi, I’m so sorry to have startled you, I’m Spencer Reid the one that kept annoying you on the phone” I feel my cheeks heat up from the sight of how pretty this boy was “um yes, i mean no you weren't annoying at all if anything you gave me the training i need, so i should be thanking you, and I’m Y/N L/N” Reid stuck out his hand which took me by surprise because according to Garcia he was not a handshaker and refused to shake hands with anyone, stating that even kissing was more sanitary “Well, in that case i’m glad to be of assistance and its nice to officially meet you Y/N” we stared in each others eyes for a few moments before we were met by Penelope and Morgan “Hey guys you have met, yay, okay now can we go this princess is getting bags under her eyes and those aren’t the kind of bags i want” we all laugh at Garcia’s remark as we start to head towards the elevator. “So I heard you went to Georgetown” i look up at the brunette boy who was gazing down at me “yeah, I actually graduated this year, which i’m kind of sad” “oh why’s that” I look straight into his eyes “I like educating myself, and expanding my field of study is something that i genuinely enjoy, so i’m kind of sad its over, but i’m looking at going for my PHD in Computer engineering” Reid looked me deeper in my eyes without saying anything, just then i heard a murmur “they will make such cute babies and i’m going to be the best godmother” and with that the elevator doors open and we all began to file in. 
I may have just met Spencer Reid but i have a feeling we are definitely going to be getting along. 
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