#this is what i get for watching star trek in a random ass order
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lower decks and its gorn wedding lead me to believe that the gorn were a fun goofy species, like tribbles or maybe cardassian voles at worst. anyway im now watching strange new worlds and apparently this is not the case
#star trek#snw#strange new worlds#lower decks#guys why was i not told that they were on like a species 8472 level#this is what i get for watching star trek in a random ass order
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given the birth of a second hyperfixation in this new era of mine i decided to try and think of all of the ones i’ve had before lol. long ass post under the cut
I don’t know the exact order of some of these things but roughly, and mostly categorized by what school I was in at the time because its easier to remember where I was spending my time thinking about these lol:
Robin Hood. (just elementary school I think) Just in general. Consumed anything I could find about him. Somehow believed I was his descendent 💀 I actually visited Sherwood forest and I can’t remember if this Started the madness or if I was already starting lol
Warriors (elementary and I think going into middle school a bit too) The king. the big one. It was my fucking lifestyle. Believed I was a cat in a human body. I had my dad preorder the books as they came out, they’d come in the mail and I’d read the whole thing in a day. I literally prayed to StarClan. I prosthelytized these books to anyone who would listen. I still proudly display the books in my room they are a part of my soul even if I barely remember particular events of them anymore lol
Fushigi Yugi (middle school I think) I don't know how tf I found this anime and I've never heard of anyone else talk about it before. I don't even remember what it was really about anymore. But I know I was making OCs and drawing fanart and had books of notes and little fanfiction things that I never shared with anyone lol. I vaguely remember that this show actually had a trans character, though its anime so of course it wasn't done particularly respectfully lmao. But I think its part of why it stuck with me so much at this time that my gender was starting to trans lmfao. (All i remember is the protagonist was going to get the ability to grant wishes at some point, and one character who was mostly seemingly male asked if she would use her wish to term him(?) into a woman)
His Dark Materials (middle school) I ate these books up and I liked The Golden Compass movie too, but definitely not as much as the books. I made myself a daemon and I am so sad to say I don't remember his name anymore. At the time I was still identifying as female so the daemon was a male lol. I think I had decided his settled form would be a Jaguarundi even though I was still a kid lmfao. I remember gently forcing my friends to make daemons for themselves too lol
Hetalia (middle school. pretty sure the hyperfixation was about done before starting high school) I don't know that I want to share much details about these dark times but I was so insane 💀
Star Trek (high school) I watched The Original Series when I was younger with my dad and I loved it but didnt particularly hyperfixate until high school, where I started also watching The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager. Loved them all so much. Made OCs, fanart, etc. For some reason I never really got into shipping with Star Trek though. I've always said they feel like my family members so it feels wrong LOL. I do ship Spock and Kirk and stuff but it took me awhile to get into seeing actual ship fanart because it felt like seeing your parents kiss or something 😂 I remember I would draw little star trek things and look up lore and I'd talk about the different species and stuff to anyone who would listen lol
SuperWhoLock (high school) I sort of fixated on each of these more at random times, though I'm pretty sure that Doctor Who was the strongest interest of the three? I think I did cosplay stuff for all of them, fanart stuff for all of them. Read so much Sherlock fanfiction it makes me sick to think about now
Homestuck (high school) pain. OCs, fanart, cosplaying, everything. Parodies of real songs made to be about homestuck filled my song library. Madness
Marvel (high school and slowly tapered off into the medicated years lol) MCU, Xmen, comics, everything. I watched all the movies religiously and I had a subscription to the marvel comics app where you could read most of the comics or whatever. I LOVED The Young Avengers and I was sad that they never really made a movie or show for them, but I'm sorta glad they havent now. They would have fucked them up. I also loved the XMen First Class movie and was obsessed with Cherik. And I ate up all the MCU crap, I loved Thor and Jane. I just watched Thor: Love and Thunder which was my first MCU movie in quite awhile and the Thor and Jane stuff in it was kind of cathartic tbh
And then I was medicated 💀 The medication was good in some ways, but it seriously deadened all of my emotions. I just did not deeply care about anything or anyone and thought that was just part of maturing. The MCU movies getting worse and worse until they were unwatchable kind of crushed me and the urge to be interested in anything as well. The closest thing I had to big interests in this time was weirdly enough all games: Pokemon Go, Animal Crossing: Pocket Camp, and Minecraft. Not full obsession but they took up most of my free time. But I sort of realized that most of my zest for life died around the time I started taking the medication. And the main reason that I stopped taking it was that when I forgot to take it the detox symptoms or whatever were so violent and it literally would make me sick for days just from forgetting ONE day. So I decided to stop taking them (I weaned off them slowly) and have mostly not regretted that decision. Now I get the thrill of hyperfixations again, which feel even more exciting after being numb for so long lmao
Our Flag Means Death. Obsessed obsessed obsessed. I think I may have read more fanfiction for these ten bitch ass little episodes than anything else before. I made the sideblog to allow myself to go full balls to the wall without flooding my main lmfao. I loved being a part of this fandom as it was born and it has been so much fun. I joined a discord server for this show and I love talking to them. Even though the hyperfixation has faded I still adore this show and I am SO happy there's going to be a season 2, I can't wait, and I hope the hyperfixation sparks up again when it comes out. I can't wait to tear apart every little detail again.
The Magnus Archives. This shit hit me out of left field. I was sad from my OFMD era being burned out and I was tired of all of my music and I decided to listen to this just for something to do. This shit grabbed me by the gooch and swung me around the room. I listened completely blind I had no idea what was going to happen at all and I am just fucking losing my shit. That ending literally has me eating drywall. And since it ended like over a year ago pretty much everyone else is over it now and I have no one to talk to and I'm losing my mind. Help. Help.
Notable shoutouts for things I really loved/love but they never fully manifested into like. obsession (at least they haven’t yet lol)
Animal Ark (elementary) I just ate up these books I read so many but didnt quite have enough lore to obsess over lmao
Animorphs (elementary/middle) not sure why this didnt really manifest into obsession. i own all of the books though, and still display them lol
Several random animes I no longer remember. (middle) There was some period where I'd watch any anime/read any manga I could get my hands on and have a brief little moment with that lol
Merlin (high school) loved it but alas. no insanity
Teen Wolf (high school) even closer to hyperfixation but not quite
In The Flesh (high school) I think this one almost could have been considered a hyperfixation but I got into it like. basically right when it got cancelled and it just SHATTERED my heart I did not recover for years I still live in terror from that
Welcome To Nightvale (high school) So I was MAINLY obsessed with the fact that the protagonist was gay and less so with the actual plot lol. I did cosplay for this though, I was even Cecil for Halloween one year. I want to restart listening to this soon, to give it another chance, since I have a new appreciation for spooky shit. Once my TMA era has faded lmfao.
Ice Planet Barbarians Series (I think I was reading these right around the time I stopped taking meds lol) I started reading the first one as a joke because it has a funny name and funny cover but I actually loved it. I loved the world and the lore and everything. It frustrated me in the end though because a) each book got too formulaic. Every book was a brand new couple. Girl I want to hear more about the established couples and their families and shit. and b) because gay stuff was almost impossible given the way things worked in this series lol. Anyways close but no cigar. I read at least 20 of those fuckin books tho
Howl's Moving Castle book series (Post Medication Modern Era) I fucking adored these books, they were so easy to read and the world was so delightful and funny. I wish there was more. But there was not enough lore or community for me to hyperfixate
The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings books (PMME) Fucking incredible even if they were very hard to read. I'm almost certain I would have had a full LOTR era if OFMD had not hit me like a train. So maybe this will happen eventually but I think I've been enjoying it The Normal Amount for a longer amount of time instead lol. I did also have sort of a mini era back in high school or something over The Hobbit movies but now that I've read the books those leave sort of a bad taste in my mouth lol
Black Sails (PMME) I was still too obsessed with OFMD when I watched this lol. This show was so good and had I seen it before OFMD I might have gone super crazy for it. I still think it was such a good story though.
Theres a good chance that I'm forgetting some stuff here but oh well lmfao. If you actually read all of this I give you a kiss on the lips
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Janwum IV Update: 2808
I think this has been going well. The goal is 25k by 1/15, but I purposely set aside the first five days for 5000 words of plotting. I've barely managed half of that, but I still feel like I've made a lot of progress figuring out what I want to do. I knew it would probably be this way, and 5000 was a shot in the dark, so I'm just gonna forge ahead and not worry about hitting that target by Friday night. That just means I'll need to pad out my wordcounts a bit from Jan 6-14, but I don't expect that to be an issue.
The harder part will be nailing 2500 words a day for... wait, I should only need eight days for that. Why did I schedule nine? Oh well, it doesn't matter. I added the 15th as a makeup day, so now I get two makeup days. Anyway, the hard part will be maintaining that pace. I mean, I managed similar numbers in November, but then I had the luxury of being able to jump from one project to another when I got stuck.
If you're bored, you can head on over to my main blog @sodiumlamp , where I have improbably begun hateblogging Star Trek: Picard because they had the temerity to put random present-day labware in a scene set 375 years in the future. Sure, that may sound crazy, but it's a pet peeve of mine when TV shows half-ass laboratory scenes by just putting flasks of colored liquid and acting like that makes it science-y. It's bad enough in police procedural, but this is some hoity-toity big shot production that should know better.
To be fair, Picard only committed this transgression in a single episode, but that episode was really, really terrible, and so are all of the others, so I'm just watching them all and complaining about them to cope.
I bring this up because I was looking up YouTube reviews to see if anyone else hated the show as much as I do, and this has led me to the unfortunate discovery that a lot of the criticism of Picard comes from internet chuds who are just mad because it's "woke" or there are too many women in the cast. You know the type, they're mad at Kathleen Kennedy for existing. Let me assure you, I only hate Picard because it's extremely badly written and slow-paced. I actually feel bad for the actors, because they all seem quite talented, and they're just trying to make the best of the lines they're given.
The important thing is that Star Trek: Picard is a lousy, rotten TV show, and props departments should think twice and do some research before they just order a bunch of graduated cylinder and fill them with Kool-Aid.
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Endeavor
Spock x Reader
Summary: Really just playing to my obsession with Spock having hidden relationships that McCoy and Kirk learn about at random moments.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters.
Several beeping machines surrounded you as you woke up. You blinked slowly, letting the surroundings sink in. A sick bay, you knew that much, but it wasn’t your ship. Of that you were certain. Definitely Starfleet, you breathed a sigh of relief, at least you knew you were safe.
You close your eyes, trying to bring back the memories of what had lead to your current medical leave. There was an attack, Klingons, you knew better than to engage. But you were clever and knew you could get yourself out of this fight. You could protect your crew…. Your crew, where were they, were they safe? The heart rate monitor began to speed up.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” A voice drawled from your right side. You opened your eyes to a gruff looking man, handsome, but gruff. “Breathe.”
You cocked an eyebrow at him, “I’m not having an admiral die on my watch.” He grumbled.
You smirked, “I’ll have to remember your dedication.” You mumbled as he tapped his pad and let out a puff of breath.
“At least you have a sense of humor.” He retorted, continuing to look over the machines around you and back to his pad.
“Tell me doctor, which ship am I on?” You asked as he continued to fiddle around you.
“Enterprise,” he said, as he began quickly typing on the pad, the heart rate monitor began to frantically beep. “Shit.”
Your eyes flickered up to his, “Doctor?”
“Just what the hell did you think you were doing taking on Klingons in your state?” He snapped, pulling himself away from the pad to focus on you.
“I’ll have you know I am a decorated admiral…” You began, only to be cut off.
“You don’t know.” He murmured, his eyes boring into yours. “Admiral, you are pregnant.”
Your breath hitched. Pregnant. You were pregnant. On his ship and pregnant. But you had both kept your relationship a secret. You both respected each other’s career too much to ruin it with a relationship. Space was not a place to raise a child, especially not when you just lost your ship. A family put too many nails into the coffin of your life. “No.” You stated firmly.
He chuckled, “This isn’t something an order is going to erase.”
You sat up, instantly regretting it as your head began to spin. “My crew,”
“Fine, all beamed onto the Enterprise as the Endeavor blew. You’re all lucky.” He said, “If we had not intercepted your distress call you all would have been gone.”
You knew why your distress call had been picked up. He was listening, he would deny it to his final breath, you had no doubt, but he was listening for you. It had been months since you had seen him. And now you were pregnant. You should have known that your perfect game of dancing around the universe would come back and bite you in the ass.
“Doctor,” You began.
“McCoy, sir,” He interrupted.
“Bones! How’s the patient?” A man bounded up behind the doctor, an infamous man, who you had the privilege of seeing during multiple hearings, all to determine his future in Starfleet. Captain James T. Kirk.
“Alive.” McCoy grunted, finally turning away from you to look at the captain.
“Admiral Y/N, it is a privilege to have you aboard my ship.” He stated, with a slight bow.
You chuckled, “Captain Kirk, you’ll receive a commendation for this.”
He smirked, “You know I’ve always been worthy of one.”
You rolled your eyes, you couldn’t deny that you had a soft spot for the impulsive captain. He reminded you of yourself, even if he broke your age records, at all but admiral.
“So what brings you to the Enterprise?” He asked.
“Klingons,” you mutter.
He nods and looks up as another presence enters your small hospital area. You feel his worry, but you can’t see it, no one can as he meets your eyes.
“Admiral,” He states nodding his head toward you.
“Commander Spock.” You say, returning the nod, feeling your insides begin to squirm, you had forgotten McCoy’s news for a moment.
Kirk stared between the two of you, looking back and forth. McCoy glanced between the three of you and shrugged. “Captain, I believe the Admiral will need medical attention beyond my expertise.”
Kirk turned to the doctor, drawing his gaze away from his first officer and you. “What makes you say that Bones, you’re the best one in the universe?”
McCoy gritted his teeth, you could see his brain trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t ruin his doctor patient confidentiality.
You sighed, “I’m pregnant.” Spock’s eyes quickly darted to your face, flickers of emotion flew across them in an instance before being pushed down into his regular stone faced demeanor.
“So, why can’t we deal with that?” Kirk said unceremoniously. Looking at McCoy.
“Perhaps, this is not a normal pregnancy, Captain.” Spock stated. Gazing at you, “If it was merely a human pregnancy I doubt Doctor McCoy would have any problems.”
You nodded, glancing down at your stomach where a new life was growing, you had not given it much of a though. You brought up a hand to rest on your still flat stomach, sensing a small flutter. Your eyes met Spock’s and he gave a small smile from the corner of his mouth.
“Not up to the challenge Bones? I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that.” Kirk said, smacking the doctor in the arm.
“Interspecies pregnancies are not my speciality!” The doctor snapped, both oblivious to you and Spock staring at each other.
“I imagine that the genetic makeup of this particular child would cause even more complications.” Spock murmured, moving closer to your side.
“And how would you know that just looking at her?” The doctor snarled, losing his cool at bickering with Kirk and being showed up by Spock.
“Because the child is mine.” Spoke stated placing a hand on top of your stomach.
The two men froze, staring at the two of you, mouths open. You laughed, “Spock, I think you shocked them into silence.”
“It’s about time.” He murmured, a gentle smile on his face as he moved his hand along your stomach, you could feel him reaching out to the child.
The other two men began bickering amongst themselves, falling out of their dumbfounded silence. You saw McCoy grumble as he started tapping on his pad, something about losing a bet.
You looked up at Spock, It will be alright. You heard him say in your mind, I will take care of you. You weren’t too sure if he was talking to you or the child, but all the same, for a moment, you forgot that your universe was crashing down around you.
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I tried to give the 2000+ Trek movies a go recently, and I love Beyond, but JJ Abrams can [redacted]. Kirk's mother doesn't matter (and book rec, the official autobiography of James T Kirk give Winona far more character and fuck ups I love it), Amanda is called a whore and killed, Chapel was sexually harassed off the ship, Uhura and Carol get random ass underwear scenes, and someone please tell Abrams that Spock flagrantly disobeyed orders before Kirk did
blegh that sucks! Ive yet to watch them (and don't intend to) but from what I know of the modern film adaptations of trek what's always put me off is the fact that not only are they not good, but theyre not in character. I can handle tos being not good often because for all its flaws, it exists in the past and can be challenged. (there's an established canon/characters have canonized identities etc.) when directors try to make star trek something it's not to reach a wider audience I think it really falls short.
#maybe im being harsh but the 2000/2010s action movie style i simply don't care for. also i thought the casting was mediocre#i have a lot of gripes.#anyway i will absolutely check out that book when im able! im always looking for book recs + new star trek content#ty!#inbox
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I ordered groceries yesterday. This is not uncommon, given that I can be hospitalized if I get a bad enough cold, let alone SARS-CoV-FUCKING-2. And also that Pengy and I are inherently lazy people.
My shopper was Robert, who was very nice and understanding about all the heavy-ass shit in the order (cat litter, case of Coke, 12 pack of mini Pepsi, entire box of Ensure...) and I gave him five stars and a decent tip, which is what I pretty much always do, honestly. You start at five stars with me and I deduct stars as I feel that you, personally, done fucked up, which is rare with this sort of thing.
Now, as is also fairly freaking common, I didn’t get everything on my list. One of the things I had to have was the iron supplement pills (because guess whose iron levels are stupid low?) and one of the things I really wanted was what I call CFP: cheap frozen pizza. Look, sometimes you don’t want quality, you want the nostalgia of the shit you bought and ate in college because it was all you could afford.
Well, neither of those things were in stock yesterday. I always put No Substitutions because I hate going back and forth with a stranger about The Exact Thing I Want. Communicating with strangers is best done as little as possible, and I still have this inherent feeling that “having standards” is the same thing as “being selfish.” So when these two items didn’t show up in the order or receipt, I figured it was a matter of that No Substitutions rule.
Earlier today, I went to the grocery store myself. I had forgotten to put my also-much-needed omeprazole on the list, so I had to get that, and I wanted to pick up those iron pills. I had initially planned to trek over to get the CFP and some cereal (another forgotten item on the list), but I wasn’t feeling well, so I just got those two items (and, yes indeed, they had another brand but not the one I specified, so that was the only problem there) and a Sprite and returned home.
But a little while ago, I thought, “Well, let’s see if I can get those items now.” I was hoping they’d be in stock, but, if nothing else, perhaps they’d have the CFP. I had put a 4 pack of them on the list, but I was hoping they’d have some individuals. Part of me felt like I was “going behind Robert’s back” which is silly, but I didn’t worry about it too much ‘cause I’ve never had the same shopper twice.
“Hi, I’m your Shipt shopper Robert. Again lol.”
I WANT TO DIE
I hurriedly type in about forgetting items (which was true), and he told me he does it all the time. He also said that since I gave him five stars, I’m more likely to get him when he’s working and the time slot I’d chosen - the same as yesterday’s, coincidentally - is the last slot of his shift on days he works.
I am just mortified for reasons I can’t even really analyze and, frankly, don’t want to. I dive back into watching old John Oliver clips and try to forget that this dude probably remembers the pizza at least and may even now be saying to himself, “Bitch, they didn’t have it yesterday...”
He does end up contacting me though to tell me that, basically, only two of the items I wanted were even available. So I ask him, with many apologies, if he can cancel the order? I feel even worse now, because now he’s not getting a tip, y’know?
“I can do that, no worries. See you next time!”
oh god I don’t know if I want that or not
At least he already knows where to go and won’t drop our shit off at some random other building?
But now I have no CFP upon which to nom.
So I guess I’ll just... I dunno, have fudge bars and kettle chips.
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If you feel like it : develop on your hatred of the new Beauty and the Beast movie? I've heard a lot of salt about the way the music score was handled 👀
O MAN DO NOT DO THIS
Every time I think about this film, rage fills me like a super saiyan powering up and i scream
How do i even start
i think i will do bullet points
these will not be in any coherent order, I take no criticisms on this or my extreme bias
also i have not watched this movie for like years so my rage may outweigh my accuracy BUT
The opening?? With Cate blanchett narrating?? Who do u think u are?? Lord of the Rings? Peter Jackson in an epic trilogy changing the world forever?? You’re Disney eating your own meal and shitting it out again don’t fucking even try it
They didn’t even change anything and the animated intro was much shorter and better
The enchantress enters like Malificent, acts like a trickster god japing bitches, but try to paint her as Good uwu Princess.
Gaston, roughly the size of an ox if the ox was a slightly buff man who would bounce off Terry Crew’s majestic chest like a ping pong ball
You don’t have to be a crusty cynical adult to narrow ur eyes at that twunk picking up a solid 170kg of two people and think CGI
Yes, a queer-coded snivelling sidekick who adores a horrible man is exactly the gay representation we all wanted may I lick ur boots Disney and also suck ur dick but only if we say no homo
Gaston’s sidekick (don’t ask me to spell french) bribing the bar people to like Gaston or something??? The whole point?? Is that Gaston DOES check off the list for Desirable Bachelor in those times!! Can hunt? Yes. Lorge? Yes. Well off? Yup! An asshole? Of course, but does that matter in these times? No! Your privilege is to wash his socks! But Belle is a Different and Special Girl who DOESN’T find Gaston attractive for all the things the village thots do! Gaston is the outer ‘perfection’ that society praises while he’s still a cunt, the Beast is seeing the goodness within no matter what society says! The whole movie is fucking inverted by that one goddamn scene!! I hate this film!!!
this also makes it fuckin weird that they then discriminate against Maurice and side with gaston in the end? The villagers just do whatever the fuck the writer wants them to do and in this it’s so painfully obvious, the CEO of disney may as well be standing there with flags directing their movements in the background, I hate this fucking film
Instead of making cool inventions belles dad just makes like, a weird dolls house if I remember correctly
THEY DUBBED THE WOLVES IWTH TIGER NOISES! W H Y
The Be My Guest was so lacklustre. It was like a clown singing kareoke in an empty warehouse while frisbees fly around. You wasted Ewan McGregor on this. Disney has no imagination anymore
To add to that, the ending ballroom scene dance thing?? Lacklustre. Disappoint. Bad dress.
The best character in this film is the horse, who not only remembers the impossible way to the Beast castle, but runs at max speed between the two locations (a half-day journey), regularly with ease, carries the Beast, who IS roughly the size of an ox, and fights off fucking wolves who also seem to totally ignore his presence
Disney robbed me of the one scene I did desperately want, which was Belle deadlifting the Beast on to the main character, the horse
THE PLAGUE
ok the fucking plague ok. You do not mess with the goddamn plague. And this wasn’t cowpox either, this was the full 1500’s shithole Paris Black Death burn-you-alive fucking PLAGUE. Belle’s mom had the Plague, and both her and her dad somehow did not contract this while living with her through her entire sickness, they go to a different town (ISOLATE U HEATHENS) and then?? The Beast and Belle GO BACK to a plague house and run their hands all over shit! Do you know how long the plague takes to die off?? Even TODAY when we dig up a plague pit, everyone has to get immunized, I know this from EXPERIENCE. Congratulations, you and the Beast either have plague or have introduced it to your lovely village. Do not fuck lightly with the plague.
The magic fucking teleportation book.
Why
what the shit
w
t
WHY
They use this shit to instantly Star Trek beam themselves into a plague house
I assume the Beast wasn’t using this to heist random women to see if they would fall in love with him because, like, why would you not do this when you can just politely return them with your stupid magical teleport book
People attack the castle? Use the magical teleport book dumbass
The Beast’s unnecessary, long, boring song from the top of some fucking tower, idk, I skipped it, I got bored
The Beast design. What’s the point if he doesn’t look like feral garbage please. Also his voice pissed me off but I can’t remember why
I dont like him even personality wise
give him to Guillemo del toro you cowards
This was set in Actual History for some fucking stupid reason, and for another unfathomable reason, it was set directly before the French Revolution, so I guess it’s not a happy ending at all. Who wants to be transformed into a guillotine ?
Why is it so fucking dark half the time
The teapot is creepy
Why in the shit did we get the Prince’s fuckin weird tragic backstory? We don’t care. Man get turned beast is what we come for. And why? Why do we need a tragic backstory to excuse his actions? Can he not just be an asshole? Rich, stupid asshole? Who then maybe has to learn a lesson? Instead of oh tortured soul rich boy is so misunderstood! No. Die.
Disney’s absolute desperate need to have characters be ONLY GOOD or BAD BAD makes me want to knee the face of the collective corporation so hard that they are sent into the Hell Dimension
Where did the hot priest at the start go? Why do I think of him sometimes
They want this to be painfully French, but somehow ends up and an even more agonizing blend between painfully British and ass-kissingly american.
Why does the castle just fall apart like that. What is holding it together? Spirit gum? Why? Stone that looks like it has been soldered together with a welding iron doesn’t just give out, or The Earth would have caved in millenia ago
Ian McKellan uses his Gandalf voice and in this film it’s honestly a crime and also jarring to hell
The prince is not hot at all
The stupid dubbed growl at the end which I try so hard to repress makes me want to throw myself into a swimming pool full of mace
The only 1 good thing about this film was the dude who got dressed up by the dresser and was so fucking happy about it.
People complain about the soundtrack, but I for one refused to listen to the songs that bored me within the first 20 seconds, and the ones I listened to were like average remakes of the OGs so that wasn’t really the worst sin
This film so visibly sucked its own dick that this is probably why it was banned in china
Thinking about this film makes me want to commit Violence so I think it’s about time I stopped
I will not be taking constructive criticism or counterpoints to anything about my thoughts on this ever.
Goodbye and thank you for your curiosity
#beauty and the beast#beauty and the beast 2017#disney#emma watson#disney remakes#I want to beat this film to death#asks#my asks#awesome people#writing#film reviews
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Cardassians
Main memory of this episode: Garak gets bit
Also a Cardassian child is indoctrinated to hate Cardassians. I don't know how to feel about this, bc I think it's a clear metaphor for Native children being stripped of and raised to hate their own culture by colonizers, but I think this is one of the cases of "What if it happened the reverse way?" is offensive, bc it places colonizers (Cardassians) as the victims and also lowkey implies that this is just something that happens when raised in another society? Which A, no, and not a great message for Star Trek, and B, hating colonizers is incredibly fucking different from hating other people who just exist. Of course, this is all just based on my memory of the episode, I haven't even actually started it yet, and hopefully the actual episode has some nuance to it. Regardless, I think this is another episode that would best be analyzed by a Native person from a colonized country and not me, a random white American, so feel free to tell me if I am uneducated or approaching this the wrong way
Watermelon outfit!
Julian being sensitive to smells? Autistic!Julian rights!
The people in the background's hats made me think they had heads like hammerhead sharks for a second and I was so disappointed that they're just hats
Gay bitches
What the fuck is this man wearing?
Garak, don't touch a stranger's child without their consent and comment on how handsome the kid is
Get bit, bitch!
Do you really need to clarify "Garak, the tailor?" Everyone here knows who you're talking about, especially since you ran into ops last season excitedly telling everyone he hit on you
Love that Jadzia doesn't care about Garak being bit and just makes fun of it
Is Garak actually a bad tailor?
How did Dukat find out about this?
Also, why does he care? He hates Garak
Y'all are the ones who abandoned them, of course they're bitter
Which is another reason this doesn't work as a metaphor for residential schools, bc those kids were largely kidnapped or otherwise forced away from their families by the people teaching them to hate their families; not intentionally abandoned
"Poor Garak, an amiable man if ever there was one." Bitch??!??!?! BITCH???!?!?
Again, Garak touched a strange child without his consent. It makes perfect sense the kid bit him
Okay, badly dressed dude's accusations are cause for investigate
Listen, I get trusting Keiko, but Miles is a known space racist. Why would you place a kid you think is being abused bc of his race with a racist?
Does Garak really still need medical treatment? It's just a bite
Maybe I am wrong about what this episode is a metaphor for
Everyone being like "Julain, what the fuck are you doing talking to him?"
Nerys, however, looks delighted
It's Garak's hand, Miles, who cares if it's bitten off?
Get his ass, Keiko!
I didn't realize Bajorans prayed before meals
You could have asked the kid what he likes to eat, Keiko
It's replicated food, it's not like it has to go to waste. Just recycle it and order something different?
It's interesting that it seems to be the norm for everyone to eat the same food when it's all replicated as individual portions
Why is spanking normalized in the Federation???
Maybe it's more about internalized racism in general than specifically Natives? But again, considering he's a member of the colonizing race, it feels like a reverse racism thing. I can't begrudge Bajorans for teaching the truth about what Cardassia did to them
Julian has a surprisingly chill reaction to Garak watching him sleep
Elim Cullen
I know that the Federation isn't capitalist, but Benjamin deserves a raise for having to put up with Julian's Garak bullshit
I know all the captains get made fun of for space skyping people in their pajamas, but it's especially hilarious that Benjamin does it with his mortal enemy
Interesting that Cardassia's "renowned" filing and record keeping system is something that comes up on multiple occasions
Garak, when would you have met members of the Bajoran underground? Where exactly was Garak during the Occupation?
Of course he knows how to fix computers, Julian, he's a member of a species that apparently wants to be interstellarly known for their filing systems
Bi bitch
Garak looks so terrified of these kids
Oh, Julian being upset by parents using and neglecting their children...
Keiko, if the kid is trying to back away from an adult he's clearly scared of, maybe don't hold him in place
Sorry about your wife and thinking that you lost your kid dude, but Rugal's right that it wouldn't have happened if you weren't a colonizer
Dukat's really been planning this for 8 years?
Where's that post about Julian interrupting the dad convention?
Dukat looks like he's about to murder Julian
Julian is so pleased with himself
I don't know how to feel about Rugal going back to Cardassia
Hmm. The Garak-Dukat rivalry hits different after Andy saying they fucked
I honestly don't feel qualified to rate this episode
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August 20: 1x11 The Menagerie Part 1
Hello time for Spock’s Mutiny Part One
That is a LOT of 50s looking sci fi background to hit with me all at once.
Spock with his carefully neutral face like ‘hmmm? a distress signal that did not come from here? how COULD that be?’
Kirk and Spock tilt their heads at the exact same time lol.
“Subspace chatter.” Please, Commodore, call it what it is, “gossip.”
“We met when he was promoted to Fleet Captain.” Okay so he was promoted, but to a weird rank that literally only exists for like two people in Star Trek I guess. (I had to look it up because I don’t know what a Fleet Captain is lol.)
I don’t understand how Pike could be the same age as Jim and yet hold the Captain’s position for 11+ years before Jim was promoted like??? Did he become a Captain faster than AOS!Kirk? Also, he looked like he was Jim’s age now in those tapes from 13 years ago. He cannot possibly be in his mid-30s now, or he’d be in his early 20s on the Talos tapes, and also, younger than Spock. So either I misheard or...it’s wrong. I guess it was supposed to mean that he was, at the time Spock served with him, the same age Jim is now?? But it shows up in a weird place to be making that point.
Oh, Spock’s mentor. The emotion.
And so begins Spock’s amazing cavalcade of lies, lies, and more lies. Doesn’t even look like it’s hard. He’d basically do anything for his replacement father.
Pike must be the only other person Spock has ever served under.
I love it when they argue about records and log books. Like, this sort of bureaucratic dueling makes up a lot more of the TOS plot than people think. The record logs must have been changed because Spock never lies!
Love that Kirk and Mendez are fighting and Mendez just yells “Well you’re right!” and that’s the end of the argument.
Is this the same Jose who wanted his peppers in another episode?
Spock is so supremely sneaky here. Mission Impossible theme plays as he skulks around and messes with the computers.
Okay, that little flirting thing with Miss Piper and the mention of “Helen” and Kirk looking briefly worried about what Helen might have said about him--that does make him look a little slutty. So he loves love okay guys!!!
That scenery out the window omg 1954 called it wants its illustrations back.
All these dumbasses on the bridge and only Uhura is suspicious.
Spock is so exasperated. All these questions! Good thing he has a fake recording of the Captain telling them all to just listen to Spock. He really thought of everything.
Kirk is looking very handsome and thoughtful. (My mom: finally a man who can think and still look fine.) He’s so distressed at the idea of Spock doing something bad.
This Bones and Kirk scene. I’m so distracted by their insistence that Vulcans can’t lie. I mean have you considered that when they told you they can’t lie.... they were lying??? Also lol @ the idea of Spock’s human side being “completely submerged.” That’s another lie he’s telling you Bones!
Love Bones defending Spock though. “He would never make a false entry! This is the LOGS were talking about here!” He adores Spock too.
That’s a cool little secret book they got there.
Kirk’s face when the Enterprise leaves without him!
Self-driving Enterprise.
I love how everyone is just unaware of the mutiny lol. Just cackling at Spock’s blatant and constant lies. “I’ve placed myself in command of the Enterprise.” Sitting in The Chair.
I’m sorry but I’m laughing so hard at all of this. He made sure to lure Bones back onto the ship with the vaguest of messages just so he could be like “Look, friend, I have a secret... I stole a Captain!”
Lol Jim following in the shuttlecraft. Can’t get rid of him that easily! Also I love the shuttle design. Adorable.
Oh no, Jim’s in danger! You can tell from Spock’s face that this was a crimp in his plan that he did not entirely expect. (I do think he figured he’d be court-martialed eventually but this specifically, Jim not turning back when he ran out of fuel, I think did throw him.)
Jim, caring more about Spock than about himself.
Bones like “hmmm who could it POSSIBLY be in the shuttle?”
“I never received orders to take command. Just went ahead and did it.”
Well this is an awkward situation!
Bones: “Well, confine him!”
Uhura’s reaction lol. Always a cutie.
Dammit I’m a doctor, not an arresting officer.
Scotty muttering (possibly his only line in this ep)
Spock’s weird statue. Lurking in the background while Spock somehow spies on the transporter room from his room? With a camera that can zoom in and out for dramatic effect?
So Spock thought it was possible Jim would follow him, so he made his mutiny impossible to undo.
Weird how they yet again call Spock a lieutenant commander when his rank stripes have always indicated he’s a commander.
I love when they discuss regulations. These nerds! They locate so much drama in it and the JD in me is having a damn good time.
I feel like this is the closest Jim and Spock have ever come to fighting. DENIED!
Oooh fancy dress time.
I feel like Spock is having a good time here lol. He lives for the drama.
He’d make a good lawyer. Kirk would too.”Commodore, you’ve opened the door” takes me back to Evidence.
And now, 13 years ago...
Jim, you’re ruining the DRAMA with your interruptions!
“Could you be biased because he’s your personal friend? Your special friend? Your best buddy Spock?”
This pilot looks like it was made 10 years before The Corbomite Maneuver or even Where No Man.
Young Spock wants to go exploring on the new planet! Kirk 100% would have gone, like, no question.
What kind of random ass outfits were those? Tennis Sunday on the Enterprise?
Look at that close up shot of the communicator. My flip phone c. 2032.
Gotta flop on the bed in the most photogenic way possible. Google Earth, always taking pictures.
This doctor is so obviously proto-Bones. And Pike IS Kirk but whinier and without that Shatner charm.
Swords and armor and deserted fortresses?? What?
This whole ep just reads as SUCH a rough first draft.
Knowing what we know about Spock, I almost doubt there was a distress message lol.
Time warp factor 7.
Court of space law.
Literally can’t believe they watched a 10 minute clip of Pike whining as part of this actual legal proceeding.
Kirk’s probably very curious to see more of Spock in his 20s.
Spock’s eyeshadow at the trial is super on point.
I can’t believe Pike has literal papers lol. Like papers made out of paper. They have printers in deep space?
Their little away team jackets, so cute.
More 50s sci fi backgrounds! I feel like people who think TOS is dated or ages badly need to watch this and, to a lesser extent, Where No Man. I think it shows just how much TOS did its own thing bc those pilots really took from the recent sci fi landscape, whereas TOS created its own thing. I think that’s why TNG looks more dated to me--it seems of a piece with other 90s media, whereas, aside from stuff like the hairstyles or the miniskirts, TOS doesn’t look 60s and it doesn’t look like other contemporary genre work.
Pretty blue flowers that make music make Spock smile--that’s my favorite part of the whole pilot. He’s so cute.
A GIRL.
I love that reveal that the transmissions are coming from Talos IV because it means that Spock, while on trial for mutiny and an attempted capital offense, commits ANOTHER capital offense AS PART OF his trial. The balls.
“I respectfully decline.”
Literally the only time he freaks out about anything is when Jim is blamed. I mean truly his plan is at least 50% more complicated than it had to be solely to protect Jim. And now the Captain is going down with him, and he’s mad at him!! A cliffhanger for sure.
Honestly, even the power of Jim just standing alone in the room.... Underrated.
“To be concluded next week.”
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Mischief Night | a destiel fic for the Promptus Exchangarama on the @writersofdestiel server
written by myself and @gii-heylittleangel
Summary: Dean and Cas are the last ones to leave the graveyard after they wrap filming for the day and they see a bit more than they bargained for.
read here on ao3 or continue reading below the cut
Julian ducks behind one of the large marble headstones, cradling the wound on his side. Wincing, he yanks off his henley, ripping two strips off and folding the rest into a thick square, pressing it over the wound and tying the strips around his torso to hold the fabric to his side. It’s a terrible bandage, but it’ll do until he manages to get out of this graveyard and back to his car. Carefully, Julian peeks around the side of the headstone and immediately regrets it.
He comes face to face with a pair of bowed legs that he’d know anywhere. “Bet you’re wishing you’d kept running, Agent Shurley,” the man sneers, a sliver of moonlight glinting off his blade.
Julian grunts, grabbing onto the headstone as he forces himself to his feet, defiant in the face of the serial killer he’s been hunting for nearly a year. “I’m not running from you, Decker. Only one of us is making it out of this cemetery and it won’t be you.”
Smirking, Decker steps closer and grabs him by the throat. “I guess we’ll see about that.”
“Cut! Great take, let’s reset and we’ll go once more,” Gabriel yells, already turning to talk to his assistant.
Dean quickly releases Cas’s throat, thumb stroking down the side. “That was a really good take.”
Castiel hums, leaning back against the fake headstone behind them. “You did well. Very scary.”
Dean and Cas are shuffled off the set under Gabriel’s orders so it can be reblocked before the next take. They end up in their chairs far behind the camera setup, shoulders brushing as they relax.
“I hate filming in graveyards,” Dean whines, gazing hopelessly around the spacious, dark graveyard their camera crew is currently set up in.
Castiel, his boyfriend of nearly three years and co-star for this movie, smirks. “You’d think after six years doing horror movies, you’d be used to it by now.”
Scowling, Dean leans his head on Cas’s shoulder. “I am used to it, that’s the problem. They’re so creepy. I mean, there are dead people six feet under us.” He shudders.
Castiel smiles, patting Dean’s cheek gently. “Not right under us, but nearby. Only two more scenes and then we can go back to the hotel.”
Dean catches a movement in the corner of his eye, but by the time he turns to look, there’s nothing there. Writing it off as the semi-darkness playing tricks on him, Dean turns to press a kiss to Cas’s temple. “We don’t have to be on set until the afternoon tomorrow,” Dean grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Castiel shoots him a dry look of exasperation, but Dean knows it’s just for show.
They film two more takes before wrapping for the night. Dean and Cas both stick around to help the crew pack up until, eventually, they’re the only two left in the graveyard. Wrinkling his nose, Dean reaches over to grab Cas’s hand. “Let’s get out of here, this is creepy.”
Castiel grins. “What, you don’t want to spend the night strolling through this beautiful graveyard? It could be very romantic.”
Dean shoots him a glare, tugging on his hand to get him moving. “No, I’d like to be out of here as quickly as possible, thanks.”
Castiel laughs, allowing Dean to tug him along. “You don’t want to wait and see if the ghosts decide to show themselves? It is Mischief Night, after all.”
Dean scoffs, turning back to look at his boyfriend. “You can’t really believe in that stuff, can you? Mischief Night is just a night for kids to pull pranks on their neighbors and get away with it, there’s nothing spooky or scary going on.”
Castiel hums, falling into step beside Dean. “Some people say the veil is thinner tonight, with it being the night before Halloween and everything. Perhaps we’ll get the chance to see a real ghost.”
Rolling his eyes, Dean shoulders the bag he’d left near where the crew had been set up, slipping his hand back into Castiel’s almost immediately. “I hope for both our sakes that we don’t.”
Laughing, Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand and the two of them start their long trek through the cemetery. The state of Massachusetts had been kind enough to lend their movie the use of Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge. It’s a huge cemetery and the first garden cemetery in the entire United States. There are more than a few sections that are still unoccupied, so they’d set up shop in an unused part of the cemetery out of respect for people who had loved ones buried there. The set designers had dressed it up with a few fake headstones and some random flowers dotted around, just enough to make it look like a real cemetery. It still didn’t make Dean any less nervous. Cemeteries are objectively creepy, no matter what Castiel says.
“I hope Baby hasn’t been egged,” Cas says idly, peeking at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
Scoffing, Dean rolls his eyes. “Anyone in their right mind would know better than to egg a beauty like her, Cas. Besides, it’s usually houses that get egged, not cars.”
Cas freezes beside him, which tugs Dean to a stop since they’re still holding hands. Frowning, Dean turns to look at him. Cas’s got a mix of terror and awe on his face, which is more than a little disconcerting. “Cas? You okay?”
Hushing him, Castiel nods at a spot to their left. “Tell me you see it too.”
Dean narrows his eyes at his boyfriend before following his line of sight. His heart stops when he finally sees what Cas is looking at. There, off in the distance, is a person. The cemetery closed hours ago, they only had special clearance to be here because of filming. Dean nervously reaches for the pocketknife he keeps in his bag. “Hey, you okay? What’re you doing here so late?”
Castiel slaps a hand over Dean’s mouth, glaring at him. “Sh! You’ll scare it off.”
Dean scoffs. “It? What do you mean by it?”
Castiel just shakes his head, which doesn’t help at all. Frowning, Dean turns back to find the figure gone. “Where’d he go?”
Castiel rolls his eyes. “They disappeared. Back to wherever they came from, I presume.”
Dean raises an eyebrow at Castiel. “You don’t honestly believe that was a ghost, do you?”
Cas cocks an eyebrow at him. “Is it really that unbelievable? We’re in a cemetery on the night people claim the veil is thin.”
“You should believe him.” Dean jumps, head whipping around so he comes face-to-face with a cheery redhead who has her arms crossed over her chest.
“I should? Why’s that?” Dean asks cautiously, scanning the woman from head to toe. She certainly doesn’t look like a ghost.
“It’s not every day you get to talk to a real dead person,” she answers with a grin, eyes flickering between Dean and Castiel. “I’m Charlie, I was murdered by the straights a few years ago.”
Dean snorts, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth in abject horror. Castiel smirks. “The straights can be quite awful, truly.”
Charlie grins. “I’m glad someone finally gets it, jeez. Straight white dudes, right?”
Dean squints at her. “You can’t really be dead. You don’t look like a ghost.”
“Oh, right, because you’ve seen a ghost before?” In the blink of an eye, she disappears entirely, reappearing behind them and prompting Dean to fall flat on his ass in shock.
“Holy fuck, you’re a ghost?”
Castiel’s stifling laughs as Charlie just grins at him. Castiel offers him a hand to help him up, which Dean grudgingly takes.
“Believe me yet?”
Dean scowls at her. “Unfortunately. Shouldn't you be in Heaven or something?”
“Technically, yeah. As far as the angels are concerned, I am. I like to take a few nights to have some fun on Earth, though, and the veil is particularly thin for the next couple of nights, which means people can see me.” She grins, slipping her hands in her pockets. “It’s fun to scare you, mortals. Gives me a break from all the dumb Heaven stuff for a little while.”
Dean squints at her, glancing at Castiel. “You planned this, didn’t you? You hired her to prank me or something?”
Castiel rolls his eyes. “I apologize for my boyfriend, he’s very resistant to things like this, especially when they’re in front of his face like you are. It’s a gift.”
Charlie smirks, raising her eyebrows. “Boyfriend, huh?”
Castiel turns to smile at Dean, lacing their fingers. “A very good one.”
Dean blushes, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She botherin’ you, boys?” A gruff, distinctly New Orleans-tinged voice asks. Dean and Cas turn to find a burly man standing behind them, wearing suspenders over a dark henley and a flat cap perched on his head.
“Oh, Benny, relax. I’m just having some fun!”
Benny smirks, eyes sliding between Dean and Castiel before ultimately settling on Charlie. “Best to keep them away from Alastair. And probably Crowley too, just to be safe.”
Dean glances between them, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Right, uh, Cas and I should be going anyway, so… nice to meet you.” He grabs Cas’s hand and heads in the direction of the cemetery entrance. Castiel doesn’t fight him on it, thankfully, and they make it a couple of roads up before they encounter another ghost, this one watching them with interest and a smirk that makes Dean’s skin crawl.
“Out here all alone, hm?” he asks, barely glancing at Castiel as his eyes settle on Dean. “Probably not a good idea.”
Dean grips Cas’s hand tighter, clearing his throat nervously. “We’re leaving.”
Before either of them get a chance to move, the ghost is charging at them, eyes entirely white. Dean dives out of the way, dragging Castiel to the ground with him. Both of them are quick to scramble to their feet, only to find themselves face to face with the ghost.
“You’ll be a perfect vessel,” he purrs, grabbing Dean by the throat.
“Alastair! Hands off the humans.”
Dean stumbles back a few steps when he’s released, looking around for whoever had just saved them. He finds a man in a dark black suit, so dark that he nearly blends in with the night.
Alastair smirks. “I found them first, Crowley. I’ve got dibs on Green Eyes.”
Dean takes a few steps back warily, dragging Castiel with him. “Listen, we don’t want any trouble, we just want to get back to our hotel room.”
Crowley sneers, stepping closer. “Oh, you’ll get back to your hotel room alright. Just not in the driver’s seat.”
Crowley takes one step in their direction and Dean pulls Cas to him, taking a few steps back. They look behind them only to find Alastair staring at them with his unnervingly white eyes. Dean lets out a squeak of surprise as he stumbles back, his hand letting go of Cas’s.
“Come on, Green Eyes. We’ll have some fun, maybe scare some humans, huh? I can’t exactly leave the cemetery in this form.” Alastair’s hand comes to Dean’s cheek but Dean ducks, stepping away from the ghost. Alastair sneers, turning to Dean with an annoyed face. “You can’t run, Pretty. Not from me.”
“Okay, you two, leave the humans alone,” Charlie’s voice comes from behind Cas, who jumps as he turns to face her. “You know you’re not supposed to possess any humans and me and Benny won’t let you anyway.”
Crowley snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if you two could stop us.”
Benny raises an eyebrow. “Y’all both know we can, and without even breakin’ a sweat.”
Dean slowly walks to Cas, grabbing his hand when he’s close enough. Dean puts his other hand over Cas’s mouth before he can say anything that will bring the ghosts’ attention back to them and starts pulling him away from them, using their distraction as an advantage.
The four ghosts start to bicker at each other, discussing who’s stronger and how easily they could take the other out. Dean and Cas stare at them for a moment, not sure if they should be scared or consider it a comedy. Cas is the first one to take a few steps back, pulling Dean with him. Dean doesn’t even resist, letting Cas pull him backwards as they stare at the ghosts.
They manage to walk a few feet like that, which makes them start to think they’ll be able to escape the cemetery without the ghosts noticing. They turn to run through the last roads but before they can take two steps, Crowley appears in front of them. “Hello, boys.” He shakes his head lightly, lips pursed in disappointment. “So, you two thought you could just sneak out of here? You do remember we are ghosts, right? Not that easy to trick us.”
Alastair materializes on Cowley’s right, his arms crossed over his chest. “Very naughty of you two. Leaving without us? Tsk, tsk, that’s not our agreement.”
Dean and Cas turn to run in the other direction, getting separated when their hands untangle. Dean runs towards the right, but Alastair appears in his view and makes him stop in his tracks. Alastair smiles at him. “I thought we covered this, Green Eyes. You can’t hide, not forever, and I’m the only one here that has eternity to play seek.”
Cas runs towards the left and he’s able to take a few more steps than Dean before Crowley appears in front of him with a snarky smile. “Come on now, angel. We can have some fun, don’t you think?”
Cas shakes his head, dodging Crowley as he keeps running, trying to get away from him. Crowley only smirks, disappearing again. He appears in front of Dean, who is trying to make his way to the cemetery’s gate. Dean stops so suddenly that he almost falls on his back.
“Oh, c’mon. What, you two get your kicks chasing humans?”
Crowley shrugs. “Well, it is fun, especially when the humans are as dumb as you two are.”
Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t stay still long enough to reply, starting to run to his right, toward Cas. They meet in the middle and run towards the gate, not even worrying about their stuff. Alastair materializes in front of them, making them stop in their tracks and start running in a different direction.
Crowley and Alastair play with them for a long time, each time making them run back into the cemetery and getting them as far away from the gate as they can. Dean and Cas start to get tired, their steps losing intensity and not long after, their breath comes out shallow, and they don’t have enough time to get it back to normal.
Charlie watches the two with a smile on her face, laughing every time Dean or Cas almost fall on the ground. Benny has an annoyed expression, his brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest as he stares at Crowley and Alastair playing with the humans.
After what must be almost an hour or more, he pokes Charlie in her ribs, taking her attention away from the humans. “We should do somethin’, Charlie. Help those two before Crowley and Alastair get tired of just playin’ with them and actually possess them.”
Charlie sighs but nods. “Yeah, fine. The last thing we need is those two dicks out there in the world, again. But you have to admit, it’s pretty funny.” She waggles her eyebrows at him.
Benny tries to fight the smile on his lips but ends up giving up. “Alright, yeah, it is. But I think they’ve suffered enough.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
Charlie and Benny disappear only to appear in front of Dean and Cas, making the two stop on their tracks. Alastair and Crowley materialize themselves in front of Charlie and Benny, who have their arms crossed over their chests and brows arched. Crowley and Alastair stare at the two ghosts, squinting their eyes at them.
“You two are going to protect the weak humans, eh?” Alastair’s the first one to speak, giving a snarky smile.
Charlie shrugs. “You can count it more as trying to keep you two idiots here. I don’t think the world needs to have you two out there again.”
Benny looks at Dean and Cas, nodding towards the cemetery gate. “Get your things and go. We’ll keep ‘em here.”
Dean grabs Cas’s hand and they start taking a few steps back to where Dean’s bag had been discarded earlier. The sunrise illuminates their path as they walk slowly, still keeping their gazes locked on the four ghosts.
Charlie sighs as she rolls her eyes. “C’mon, man, me and Benny can take care of these two, just go!” She waves her hand at them, an invisible force pushing them to walk faster or they would both fall on the ground.
Dean and Cas look at each other, then at the ghosts, before looking at each other again. They give a small nod to each other and start running towards Dean’s bag, Dean grabbing it as they keep running to the gate.
Charlie chuckles, rolling her eyes softly as she turns to the other ghosts. “These humans, always so scared.”
Crowley and Alastair scoff at her, Crowley walking closer to her. “Why would you let them get away? They were ours.”
Charlie shrugs as Benny answers, “They’re not yours and they deserve to get out of this cemetery as themselves, not as you two.”
Alastair growls and disappears. Benny also disappears, reappearing in front of Dean and Cas again, with Alastair in front of him. “Face it, Alastair, you’re not gettin’ ‘em,” Benny’s voice sounds flat as if he’s just bored with Alastair. He looks at Dean and Cas and waves his hand at them. “Go on, he won’t get to you.”
Dean and Cas walk past the two ghosts, walking backwards as they stare at them, worried to let them out of their sight. Benny sighs and waves at them again, making them turn and a force pushes them to run. They don’t even fight it, just start running to the Impala, which is now only ten feet from them.
When they get to the car, they turn to look at the ghosts as the sun finally gets full in the sky. The four ghosts vanish before their eyes, Dean and Cas’s eyes widening. They stare at each other, not knowing what to do.
Dean shakes himself and stares at Cas in annoyance. “Are you happy now? We saw four ghosts and two of them wanted to use as meat suits.”
Cas sighs as he opens the passenger’s door. “Can we please just go, Dean? I don’t want to see any other ghosts.”
Dean scoffs, sliding behind the wheel. “Oh, now you don’t wanna. You better not. I think we’ve had enough experience for a lifetime.”
They sit in silence for a few minutes, staring at the road in front of them, until Dean starts to laugh. Cas stares at him with his brows frowned and his head tilted. “Dean, why are you laughing?”
“Dude, we just spent a night in a fucking cemetery, running from ghosts who wanted to use us as meat suits. This would be a hell of a story for a movie.”
Cas chuckles lightly. “Yeah, just not a horror one. But I’m sure Gabriel would love to direct it anyway.”
Dean nods softly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m sure he would.”
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Star Wars: The Last Jedi - First Thoughts
Below are my first reactions to Star Wars The Last Jedi a day after I saw it in theaters. I posted this on Facebook that started a lot of discussion.
To be clear I didn't completely hate Star Wars The Last Jedi. But it suffers from poor writing. Below are spoiler heavy points that I think amount to a 3rd grader writing a movie script.
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1.) The slow chase scene of the First Order pursuing the Resistance is BORING! We are watching a Star Wars movie here not an episode of Star Trek Voyager. If I was the writer, I would make the Resistance fleet have enough fuel to make multiple jumps to lightspeed. Then have a cat and mouse chase between the Resistance and the First Order. We could have exciting and multiple star systems that the Resistance fleet could hide out. Sort of like the chase between the Millennium Falcon and the Imperial Fleet in Empire Strikes Back. But on a grander scale. We could see the fleet be picked off one by one in more of a dramatic way. We then could see Poe Dameron, Finn and Rose Tico shine better in defending the fleet.
2.) Finn’s character has NO point in this movie. Finn goes off on a wild goose chase because the movie needed something for him to do. (If they used my chase idea, Finn and Rose would be busy fight the First Order.)
In the past the rebellion had existed for generations simply because ships can pop from one place to the next in the blink of an eye. The Last Jedi introduces magical GPS tracking that essentially makes guerrilla-style warfare impossible. It’s the understandable why Finn and Rose fly off to a random planet modeled off of Monaco so they can disable the technology. This is something the movie does repeatedly, creating problems that didn’t exist before just so its characters can pull off blockbuster high jinks in pursuit of their solutions. Sadly, this entire plot is rendered pointless by the end as we learn Leia was retreating to an old Rebel base on the planet Crait. Alas, Fin, Rose and BB8 are caught and almost have their heads cut off by laser axes.
One of the best part of this movie is to see Finn’s character stop running. In the beginning Finn tries to escape the fleet in an escape pod and the end Finn is ready to sacrifice himself to save the Resistance.
3.) Poe Dameron is always wrong and then is rewarded for it. When Leia tells Poe to break off the attack on the First Order Dreadnaught, Poe ignores her. This leads to heavy losses for one victory. Poe is demoted because of this. When Poe is given no plan from Vice-Admiral Holdo (because COs don’t have to explain themselves to their subordinates), he concocts a plan for Finn and Rose to run off and find a codebreaker so as to infiltrate the First Order ship that’s chasing them. Then when his plan is almost ready to go into action, Poe finds out that Holdo is abandoning ship for the planet Crait. What does Poe do? He mutinies. One of the worst thing that can happen in an armies chain of command. But… the movie ends with Poe being rewarded as leader of the Resistance by Leia saying “don’t look at me, follow him”. (To your certain death?)
4.) Captain Phasma turns out to be completely pointless and dies.
5.) I have no problem that Leia might have powers from the Force. But we have never had a clue from her onscreen history. Yet we have the weird angel like (almost Twin Peaks-ish) scene
Where her powers of the Force pulls her back from the brink of death. She’s floating in outer space without any protection and freezing her skin off. In this moment it’s done in a cringeworthy sort of way that’s obnoxious and very strange.
6.) Snoke dies in a hurry. In “The Force Awakens” the big bad was Snoke. There was all this speculation on his character - who he is, where did he come from. Fuck it! Kill him we don’t need to know. Like Darth Maul, Snoke seemed like an awesome bad guy. A suitable opponent to Rey and crew. Instead we are left with whiny emo bad guy Kylo Ren. For as fearsome as Snoke seemed to be, despite being able to throw a human being across a huge room with a flick of his finger and read everyone’s thoughts, has apparently lost his peripheral vision and can’t see that a lightsaber sitting right next to him is moving on its own. Dumb and lazy writing.
7.) Porgs and Vultpex (the Crystalline Fox) are almost pointless and they are a marketing ploy by Disney to make stuffed animal toys for children. Cash grab.
8.) Kylo Ren still is a whiny bitch. Isn’t Star War supposed to be epic? Why is the bad guy an emo kid that hates his dad and looking for a daddy? Darth Vader gave no fucks. The ending scene in Rogue One depicts this. But Kylo Ren is no Vader. He is a fainting baby of a bad guy. That punches his bedroom walls when he feels bad. When Kylo “turns” it prompts a truly fantastic fight scene where both Rey and Kylo are fighting side by side and working together to defeat their foes. It looks and feels so perfect, but that goes out the window the moment the fighting stops and Kylo reveals that he’s really just as much of an angsty kid as he’s always been. Couldn’t we have seen Ren evolve in this movie? Nah - Instead of fearsome we are given pathetic.
9.) Luke Skywalker is a hermit that wants out of this universe. I have no problem that Luke is shakened by his experience with Kylo Ren (Ben Solo). I have no problem that Luke wants to hang up his lightsaber. But Luke knows that Kylo killed his good buddy Han, that his sister is in deadly trouble and the universe is about be handed to the bad guys. And he still won’t spring into action??? When Rey asks Luke to train her, she receives a 3 minute crash course in the Force. Then Luke gives up when Rey is interested in a Dark Side seaweed hole. Well duh, yes - because NO ONE HAS TRAINED HER. (Dumb Ass!)
We do have a great scene when Force projection Luke faces off with the First Order and Kylo Ren. It was super fun and worth watching. But then Luke dies… So I guess Luke gets his wish.
10.) Rey is still untrained. Rey has no mentor. Maybe in episode 9 she’ll get a trainer. But I guess the untrained Rey can just magically control her powers and not be easily led to the Dark Side. But considering that Kylo Ren is such a weak bad guy, I guess she will prevail.
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Scarab #6
I don't know what's happening on this cover but I definitely have a new sexual fetish.
This comic book stars a raccoon. Rating: A+.
Most of the weird dialogue in this comic book probably comes from John Smith's high school notepads full of terrible poetry. I mean, this part about winter isn't too bad! I kind of like it. It's almost as if William Carlos Williams and H.P. Lovecraft were caught in a Star Trek transporter malfunction where their minds were melded but they had to overcome the horror of their new two-dicked physical existence to continue writing poetry.
I knew John Smith was English from his previous work on 2000 A.D. and other British comic book periodicals but then he uses the phrase "Chinese whispers" in this issue and I think, "If I hadn't already known he was English from his previous work on 2000 A.D. and other British comic book periodicals, I'd now know he was English by his use of the phrase 'Chinese whispers.'"
Here are some of the ideas John Smith throws into a two-page account of Scarab's recent adventures that he couldn't bother writing into full scripts but wanted everybody to know he thought up anyway: a television at the Waldorf haunted by the 20th Century, a pervert breaking the spirits of kids with his Zoo of Shame, The Phantom Barber stealing scalps from runway models, the world's sexiest man raped by Tarot cards, and the Electric Fetus Machine which manifests as a large organ whose music foments rebellion in fetuses. Is this how the British writers took over DC's adult comic books? By occluding our minds with so much random and weird pseudo-philosophical garbage that we couldn't think straight? Sure, I guess an Electric Fetus Machine sounds like a way better story than Batman beating The Riddler near to death. But is there really any substance there? I suppose there could be if the idea were fleshed out and some kind of theme built around the idea of fetuses rebelling. Maybe all of these ideas John Smith throws out are just a game of Chinese whispers where he takes, say, a story by John Barth from Lost in the Funhouse about the thoughts of a sperm considering how the race toward life is pointless and, maybe, they should all just give up, and he turns it into the Electric Fetus Machine so that when I read it, I don't instantly think, "Isn't this a John Barth story?" Instead, I think, "That's a better sounding story than the one where the guy is raped by the Three of Wands!"
Meanwhile, Scarab spends his downtime watching Eleanor turn into a Dr. Seuss tree. Or a mushroom cloud (because remember the theme established by the beginning quote and title?!).
Try to ignore Scarab's ass in the previous scan. It's phenomenal.
If you're training to be a comic book artist, you need to spend a lot of time getting the ass right. And once you do, you'll never get an ass in pants right again because all you have ever learned to draw is a naked ass which readers will know is actually under skin tight Lycra unless the colorist completely shits the bed.
The guy in the jar on the cover is a Russian experiment in psychotropic warfare called a Gloryboy. There are three of them and they're some kind of pacifist dream come true. They constantly mutter Vertigo phrases in a tonal frequency that makes normal people vomit and shit themselves. It's the Brown Note theory of winning battles but taken to the Vertigo extreme. Instead of a whomping bass sound system, the noise comes form a naked albino in a jar composed of dream matter.
Maybe they're not composed of dream matter. And maybe they're not about pacifism at all. It seems they've been altered and experimented in such a way that they can give voice to "the Scream over Hiroshima!" That sounds pretty bad. It's probably some form of psychic bombardment, comparable to a nuclear blast, which drives everybody in the vicinity completely insane. Or maybe it really will just be a thing that pacifies everybody because have you ever tried to do anything while shitting yourself? I mean other than read the ingredients in your shampoo. And even then, I bet you take your eyes off the bottle for a moment to really be in the moment.
As an aside, do women find shitting as enjoyable as men or is it just the fecal matter pressing up against our prostate as it passes that makes a big shit feel so good?
The Russians test the Scream Over Hiroshima on London. What it does is project into the minds of everybody who hears it the entire reality of what happened in Hiroshima. It's the truth of war. It's pure horror and death and consequence. It probably also makes everybody shit themselves. But when it's done, they'll all understand, on a physically primal level what war is. And the assumption is that everybody will finally be against it, I guess? I've been on Twitter for many years and the one thing I know is that even physically experiencing the horrors of the bombing of Hiroshima isn't going to change the minds of most idiots. I mean, if you didn't become a vegan pacifist hug machine after hearing Sting's song, "Russians," why would you become one after living the horror of fifty thousand lives snuffed out in an instant?! Some people, you just can't reach.
London turns into a burning chaotic mess as everybody flips the fuck out from suddenly experiencing the most painful thing they've ever experienced. Scarab arrives after it's all over and everybody is afraid of him. Surprise! There's nothing he can do. He just observes the mess and meets a psychic who tells him that Eleanor is coming back. And isn't that the most important part of this eight issue story? That Louis the Scarab's love returns to him while the rest of the world falls into death and chaos?
Scarab #6 Rating: C. Smith seeded this issue with more story ideas than story. The main story is an idea that really goes nowhere as well. It's a thought experiment. It's a minor philosophical musing. And Scarab doesn't do anything but distract himself from his wife's condition. But it also wasn't uninteresting. So I think that means it's a C? What am I, a high school teacher? I don't know how to grade shit!
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Like Ghosts In Snow (Ch. 2)
While your guardian is keeping a huge secret you take on the nightlife and find yourself in a mad supernatural hellzone.
Vampire au, villain au
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence
A/N: I had written 90% of this before I started requests and figured I’d finish it before continuing. I’ll get on to do more requests Thursday at the latest! Deku is here! I’m stoked.
Previous
Chapter 2: Ambrosia
You sat on the passenger seat of Bakugou’s Oldsmobile and listened to his shitty gangster rap music. Eijirou moved around in the back seat from window to window allowing his head to pop out to catch the cool salty pacific air, occasionally popping his head over your seat to give kisses and sniffs.
Bakugou parked the car on the side of the road. You knew immediately by looking around that this was a college town. Kids around your age walked in groups up and down the street, shopping, finding hot spots, looking for places to get a drink or go to dinner. They skipped and cheered and laughed with one another. You felt a twinge if jealousy watching other kids having fun with their friends.
“The comic book store a couple blocks away so we’re gonna have to walk,” Bakugou said letting Eijirou our of the car. Eijirou sat on the sidewalk waiting patiently for the two of you to start walking. A good boy.
Before you got out of the car, you bent down to tie your shoe. Bakugou opened your door for you. You looked up at him surprised. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you said slightly slurring the word ‘chivalry.’
“Hurry the fuck up.” Woah there, partner.
You slid down your seat and out of the car and walked fast paced towards the sidewalk however you managed to trip over your own leg and nearly fell into the road.
It was like you were frozen in air. You started at the street but your face never met it. At that same moment a 1967 black mustang sped down the road. The would’ve hit me, you thought yourself.
Bakugou pulled you onto the sidewalk. He had caught you by your hand just in time. “It would be really nice,” he growled at you, “if we could make it to this damn comic book store without you getting yourself fucking killed.”
You blinked at him. He had saved you by he was still so mean. You looked into his glowering red eyes. He did look a bit concerned. Still he was being so rude to you, and why?
You laughed. “I just wanted you to hold my hand,” you said innocently. You looked down at your hand still intertwined with his.
He threw it away stalking off down the street. You thought for a second you had seen him blush. You just shake your head.
You walked in silence for a while, watching as Eijirou sniffed every lamppost, ever plant, and every trash can you passed by. People avoided Bakugou on the street, making sure to walk into the road to avoid being near him. It probably didn’t help the Eijirou was a growling machine whenever anyone looked his way.
“We’re going to cut down this alley and walk behind the buildings. The dog is wasting our time stopping every second he can to get his damn fix.” So you followed Bakugou down an alley with Eijirou watching carefully behind you.
The alleyway was plastered with ‘Missing Person’ posters. Faces of all ages stared at you with messages from loved ones pleading for the viewer to call specified numbers if there was any information on their whereabouts. You read some of the names. ‘Momo Yaoyorozu’... ‘Denki Kaminari’... ‘Hitoshi Shinsou’... You came upon a poster where the person’s face was torn away from the wall. The name read ‘Izuku Midoriya.’
Bakugou has stopped walking to watch you look at all the posters. You turned to him and asked, “is this town safe?”
“Does it feel safe?” He glared at you. He was so cryptic.
You gulped. It didn’t. But you weren’t going to let this smug fucker spook you out when you wanted to enjoy your night. You sarcastically fluttered your lashes gave him a smile, curling a lock of hair around your finger and gushed, “I feel safe knowing that a big strong man such as yourself is here to be my personal body guard.” You could nearly see steam fuming out of his nostrils. Eijirou barked at you, as if to say, I’m here too you know! You turned away from him and skipped down the alleyway.
The back of each building had something beautifully painted on it. You were mesmerized by the swirl of blue mixed with an orange and pink hue that painted a landscape of a giant wave crashing against a bluff. The next building had the scene of a thunder storm in the middle of a desert, the cactus and dunes were silhouetted against a purple night sky with a white lightning bolt bursting through it.
The last building on your trek really caught your eye. An incredibly bulky man stood over a mound of skeletons that had pointed teeth. His blonde hair seemed to be blowing in the wind. He held a medieval axe in one hand while his other flexed showing off rippling muscles. He had a huge conquering smile on.
“We’re here,” Bakugou snapped you out of your daze.
“Wow,” was all you said.
“Tch,” Bakugou looked down at Eijirou who seemed almost as amazed as you were at the painting. You didn’t think dogs could understand artwork. “You’re staying right here,” Bakugou said to the dog.
Eijirou let out a whine but he sat down obediently.
A bell dinged as you entered the store. At the front, an older man sat staring blankly through the window at people walking by. He was scrawny, nearly skin and bones, eyes sunken in casting a shadow over his face, but he had wild blonde hair, with bangs parted down the middle falling to either side of his face. When you walked by, giving him a smile, he slowly put up a hand to greet you but continued to stare outside, as if his greeting was only a reflex. Bakugou didn’t look at him.
The place was filled. Different swords and weapons decorated the walls, comic books grew in stacks, there were standees of heroes from recent movies you’ve watched in theaters, and separate sections for old movies, games, and cds were labeled in pictures and stickers, and there were stairs towards the back of the store labeled ‘records,’ with a sign pointing up.
You slowly walked to a stack of books and fingered the folds of a random book before picking it up. It had been a manga from the mid 2000’s called, ‘My Date With a Teenaged Vampire.’ You snickered to yourself as you flipped through the pages, watching the heroine blush and swoon over a very cheesy looking vampire.
Bakugou scoffed over your shoulder causing you to jump and throw the book back into the stack. “Jesus! Hover much, Katsuki?”
“It’s Bakugou,” he rolled his eyes at you. “Of course you’re one of those girls that believe in that ‘vampires are romantic, star crossed lovers, fate’s kiss’ bullshit. Vampires feed, kill, and burn, in that order.”
“And werewolves howl, piss on trees, and hump each other, in that order,” you wanted to defend yourself but you didn’t want him to think you cared about what he thought about you. You didn’t.
“Werewolves don’t exist,” he said crossing his arms, challenging you.
“And vampires do? Honestly, Bakugou, if you are gonna be a killjoy, you could just wait outside.”
“I don’t see why the fuck not. It’s not like I wanna be here.”
“The door,” you said, motioning towards the outside, “is right over there.”
He narrowed his eyes and slammed his hand on the table next to you and started leaning in to you causing you to move away from him. For a split second you thought he was going to kiss you but the thought quickly left your mind when he stopped right in front of you, his hot breath on h s face. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he whispered and shoved something to your chest before stalking away towards the front. You watched as he swung the door open, causing the bell to ring, and the shopkeeper raised his hand to say goodbye to his guest.
You looked at what Bakugou had left you. It was a comic book from the 1980’s. The title of the book was blacked out with sharpie pen and over it written in chipping whiteout was ‘10 Ways To Absolutely Destroy a Vampire.’ You flipped through the comic and saw various different scribbles over the original work, seeming to correct or call bullshit on certain things the comic had written in it. You read through a strip where the hero dramatically piles a stake through the heart of a vampire the words ‘obviously’ were messily scribbled next to the perishing vampire. You scrunched your face. Why did Bakugou give you trash? You flipped to the last page of the book where ‘property of Edgar and Alan Frog: vampire hunters’ were written. “Well, Edgar and Alan Frog, you guys are psychos,” you said aloud.
A sudden ring from the door front caused you to jump. You glanced up to see the shopkeeper put up his hand in greeting but didn’t see anybody in the store. A shiver went up your spine. Maybe it was someone lost or confused and turned back immediately? You shrugged it off but you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
You made your way up the stairs to look at the collection of records. You flipped through the $2” stack and read through dozens of bands you hadn’t heard of. Your hand ghosted over some lapel pins representing music labels. You made your way over to the rock bands that were in an alphabetized order. You scanned through through the D’s; David Bowie, Dead Kennedy’s, Depeche Mode, and your fingers landed on the Morrison Hotel album by the Doors. You pulled it out of the stack and you felt eyes on you again.
You turned abruptly and your eyes met with mesmerizing emerald ones. You smiled at the messy haired boy who was fixated on you before returning reading the back of the album.
“Jim Morrison... quite the inspiration,” a friendly voice rang in your ears.
Nervous at the stranger speaking to you you didn’t look up from the album when you replied, “yeah... I think my dad is a big fan of his. I’m thinking about getting him this album.”
“You should get it for yourself,” the voice was right up against your ear. You took a step away and turned to the boy, giving him a surprised look.
His green irises peaked through half lidded eyes, face dusted in freckles, his red lips stretched into a lazy smile when he got a good look at you. He almost looked like a doll. He wore a white dress shirt with a black vest, black slacks, and converse. His cute face did not match his clothes at all.
“M-maybe I will,” you felt an uneasy tension creep up your back.
Taking a step closer he reached behind you, his arm pressing uninvitedly on your shoulder, and pulled a different record back into his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. “If you’re going to get an album by The Doors, might I suggest ‘Strange Days,’?” He flipped the vinyl over to show up the list of songs, rubbing his shoulder against yours. “Some of the songs feature a harpischord, an elegant instrument that’s not usually associated with rock and roll.” When you didn’t say anything he continued, “you know, when Morrison died they didn’t do surgery on his body to see what his cause of death was. Some believe he might still be alive.”
That made you laugh. “Yeah he’s probably somewhere sharing a drink with Elvis, right?”
The boy grinned at your joke. “Yeah, something like that,” the spirit of eerie irony filled his voice.
You took the vinyl from his hands and admired the odd photo they used as the album cover.
“What’s your name?” The boy asked.
“F/N L/N,” you said without hesitation. You felt you should be cautious around him but you couldn’t help but blurt out the honest answer immediately. A shiver shot through your body.
“F/N L/N,” your name was drawled our through his lips, slowly, as if he was savoring the taste of it on his tongue. “You’re a friend of Kacchan’s?”
“Who?”
The boy chuckled humorlessly. “Katsuki Bakugou. I can smell him on you.” Another uneasy wave hit you, still you were unable to move away from the boy. “He has a hard time making friends.”
“I can’t fathom why,” you said rolling your eyes.
The boy jumped up to sit on top of the counter holding the records. He smiled down on you. “I like you, y/n,” he said slightly kicking his feet. He reached over to the box of lapel pins and held it in his lap. He tilted his head to the side and asked, “Will you do me a favor?”
I don’t think so. “Sure.”
“Give me your hand.”
Your right hand involuntarily reached up to reach the boys. Taking one of the lapel pins he pricked your pointer finger. You winced, shooting your hand back. A drop of scarlet oozed from the tip. You sucked at your wound.
The boy’s smile grew, his tongue pressed against his white teeth. “What does it taste like?”
Leave. Turn around and leave. Go find Bakugou and go home. “It takes like,” you licked your finger, “skin and copper.” Why do you want to know?
He bit his lip, looking pleased. He held out his hand to you once more. “Let me try.”
Again your hand met his. He caresses your arm as he brought your bleeding finger to his lips, keeping eye contact with you, he kissed your finger. “Oh,” he took your finger into your mouth, you felt his tongue swirl around the wound, and he sucked. A greedy moan escaped his lips.
You felt a different kind of tingling envelope your body. It’s like you were entranced by this man who was sampling your blood.
Looking pleased, he let your hand fall to your side. “You taste magnificent. Like honey, sunshine,... ambrosia.” He licked his lips as if the taste of you lingered on them. “I can’t wait to have you when you’re not intoxicated.”
How does he know? How am I not screaming? Why can’t I call for help? Questions ran rapidly through your head as you stared at the green haired boy, paralyzed.
He hopped down from the counter and started walked towards the stairs. “Sadly, we’ll have to save that for another... date.”
Your body was burning to move. “What’s your name?” Was all you could muster.
He tossed his head back, sleepy eyes landing on you. “*Izuku Midoriya*, but you won’t be remembering that anytime soon.” The boy disappeared down the stairs.
Chapter 3
~
Tags for EVERYTHING: @yandere-inamorata @doriichii @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @kido-is-not-a-ghost @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelenore @kpanime @jetblackjessie @ayeputita @bokunoheroes-stories @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland
If you asked to be tagged in Like Ghosts In Snow please remind me. The list slipped through my silly seal flippers and I misplaced it.
#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader#mha#my hero academia#bnha imagine#bnha reader insert#reader insert#villain deku x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#deku x reader#izuku midoriya#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#midoriya izuku x reader#izuku x reader#midoriya x reader
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Hi, would it possible, I don’t know if you’ve done this prompt, to get like a cute ficlet for Kali & Nancy (like them in a relationship) on a double date with Steve & Jonathan?
kalancy + stonathan being friends is my jam and all i can think of is the cliche trope that Nancy & Steve are “dating” and Kali & Jonathan are “dating” so they can protect each other. They have a double date where Jonathan & Steve are sitting together in one booth & across the table is Kali & Nancy & everyone thinks it’s boy/girl pairing but in reality Jonathan keeps grabbing Steve’s hand under the table and Kali has her hand on Nancy’s thigh
I’m combining these two asks, plus a conversation I had with @lesbxdyke for this little fic. If you wanna read on ao3, otherwise read below!
Jonathan and Kali are already sitting at the back booth when Steve and Nancy walk in. Nancy looks good, Kali thinks, she always looks good. Her short hair up in a pink scrunchie, wearing a white sweater and light wash jeans. Kali wishes she could do nothing more than wrap her arms around Nancy’s slim waist and kiss her senseless. But they’re in public. So she just stands up and waves, and gives Steve, her “boyfriend” a hug. He kisses her cheek. He looks good, hair perfectly styled, in what she knows is one of Jonathan’s sweatshirts because the arms are entirely too long for him. Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy is hugging Jonathan, and she kisses his cheek softly. Kali wonders if she’s wearing her favorite watermelon lip gloss tonight.
Finally the “couples” sit down, and Kali’s hand is on Nancy’s thigh before she can even pick up the menu. Nancy giggles at that, and turns to look at Kali, biting her lip. Nancy is beautiful. Her eyelashes are long and black, her eyeliner thin and precise and perfect. She’s got blush high on her cheeks and just a dab of pink gloss on her lips. Kali wants to count her freckles.
“What are you looking at?” Kali asks quietly.
“Something beautiful.”
Kali squeezes her thigh and turns back to her menu. Steve and Jonathan’s voices are getting higher and higher because Steve keeps arguing that Jonathan should order cheese fries so Steve can have them.
“Why don’t you order cheese fries?” Asks Jonathan.
“Because I want onion rings,” Steve says whiningly.
“Well you’re just gonna have to choose,” says Jonathan.
“What a good boyfriend you are,” he mumbles under his breath turning back to the menu.
The girls laugh at him, and decide what they want and it’s not long before the waitress comes up to them,
“What can I get you guys?” She asks, with a snap of her gum.
Kali orders the double bacon cheeseburger, with well done fries, or Nancy will eat them all, and an extra pickle, for Nancy. Nancy orders a chocolate milkshake and a grilled cheese. When it’s Steve’s turn, her poutily orders a mushroom and swiss burger with onion rings, and his face lights up when Jonathan orders a plain hamburger with a side of extra large cheese fries.
“See, you do love me!” says Steve quietly, even as he reaches out to hold Kali’s hand across the table, because he needs to remember his place.
Steve wishes he could do nothing more than hang all over Jonathan. Wrap an arm around his shoulders, his waist, rest his head on his shoulder, ruffle his hair, kiss his forehead, his neck. He likes him so much. It’s such bullshit. The fact that they can’t be together in public. The fact that this whole stupid ass town is homophobic. His only solace is that his best friend happens to be gay too. They’d come up with this whole fake dating scenario while they were drunk one night, still pretending to be dating, in Nancy’s room.
She’d stolen some vodka out of her mom’s liquor cabinet and they were sipping on that and diet coke, sitting on the slant of the roof, right outside her bedroom window. Nancy liked boys and girls, she didn’t know what that made her, and when she’d announced she’d had sex the previous weekend, at some party at the college, their friend Kali had invited her too, he assumed it was a boy. Until she tipsily admitted it had been Kali and the girl had a wicked tongue. She’d blushed as she’d said it, but Steve knew she meant it, knew she loved getting eaten out, and knew how attractive Kali was. It’s not until a few drinks later when he admits Jonathan is good with his fingers, and Nancy nearly tosses him off the roof, because they’re supposed to tell each other everything dammit.
It’s neither here nor there that Nancy hadn’t told him about her sexcapades. They both gush over the other, how Jonathan is actually really cool and has great taste in music. He’d made Steve a mixtape and he adored it. Nancy had stated how Kali had let her wear her leather jacket home and it made her feel warm and protected. The thing was, no matter how much they all cared about each other, they still lived in a time where this simply wasn’t allowed.
In order to avoid suspicion, especially for the boys, so they’d announced that Steve and Nancy were together, and so was Jonathan and Kali. While the four of them had been friends, this gave them an excuse to constantly be seen together. If it was just Nancy and Kali somewhere, they figured that they were waiting for Jonathan and Steve. Or if Steve and Jonathan were somewhere, trying on clothes or buying beer and cigarettes, it was assumed, it would be for their girlfriends, and unfortunately that was the way it had to be. The four of them didn’t mind hanging out together, it was fun. There were no boundaries between them, as their couldn’t really be, being the only gay teens in their town, and best friends.
For example, if Steve’s parents would be out of town, instead of throwing parties like he’d used to, he’d invite the girls and Jonathan over. Sometimes they’d watch a movie yeah, or get high and make brownies, they’d play drinking games or card games or dance to music, but what Steve’s empty house really meant was a safe place to fuck. Kali and Nancy could practically move in to the spare bedroom if they wanted, and Nancy had taken to leaving spare toiletries and clothes over there. Steve’s parents loved Nancy, and it had been forever since a relative had visited, and Steve had told them about a hard time Nancy had been having lately. Not only that, but if Nancy was sleeping in the spare bedroom, that meant she wasn’t sleeping in Steve’s.
Steve’s parents were in town, along with everyone else’s, so they were at the diner on a date. Even though Kali’s hand rests hotly on Nancy’s thigh, or Steve’s palm is sweaty because his fingers are linked with Jonathan’s, it’s not exactly the same. It’s still fun, of course it is. Nancy’s playing with Kali’s hair and begging her for the fifth time to help color it. Kali’s dipping her fries in Nancy’s milkshake to her horror, but Kali still wants to lean in and kiss Nancy’s lip gloss off her soft lips. Steve is eating more cheese fries than Jonathan, licking his fingers teasingly, as Jonathan attempts to eat his burger. Steve’s lips are greasy and red, and his hair is starting to fall a bit, but he looks adorable. The air is blasting in the diner, and there’s goosebumps on his arms, and Jonathan wants nothing more than to slide off his plaid and put it around Steve’s shoulders.
“Hey, after this do you guys wanna go to the lookout?” Steve asks, as if noticing the look in Jonathan’s eye.
The lookout is a patch of land at the edge of town. It used to be a huge makeout spot years ago, but the police had blocked it off after lots of drug activity. You could still get there, if you drove a roundabout way and didn’t care about trekking through the woods for about half a mile. It’s not like any of them really had a choice and it wasn’t like it was bad. Jonathan always had blankets in the back of his car, a small boombox and weed. Steve was cuddly when he was high, and he wanted nothing more than to lay on his favorite quilt, high, with Steve resting on his chest, prefferably shirtless, lsitening to The Clash in the distance, and Nancy going on about the stars.
Drunk Nancy never shut the hell up, which Kali found adorable, because she never talked much sober. But she’d go on, on rants, talks of the future, random rants. It was beautiful. Kali would kiss her to shut up sometimes, mostly when Steve had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her voice, and the comfort of Joanthan’s eyes around him, and Kali wanted attention from her girlfriend. Want Nancy to straddle her, have her girlfriend half naked in the moonlight.
“Oh hell yeah,” said Nancy, “My parents are at a cocktail party, I have until at least one.”
“Can’t you say you’re staying at my place?” Kali asks, brown eyes wide.
“And stay where?”
“My mom would probably be down for letting us stay at my place. But no funny business,” He warns, eyes on Nancy.
“UH! You better talk to your boy about funny business,” she hisses, cheeks pink.
“Oh I’m gonna wear him out before we get home,” Jonathan says, squeezing Steve’s hand.
Steve winks, “Is that true?”
“You bet your sweet ass it is.”
“Check please,” calls Steve waving his hand.
Nancy laughs so hard she almost chokes on her milkshake, and Kali slaps her back,
“I don’t know what you’re laughing for.”
“Oh I’m going to give you a run for your money,” Nancy says, going to stack up their plates. “You always do,” Kali says, patting her thigh, wishing she could do more. But then she realizes she has the whole night to lavish her girlfriend in the attention she deserves.
“Boys are paying right?” Asks Nancy, tapping Kali so she can slide out of the booth.
“Well shit, I guess so,” Steve says as Nancy heads to the back corner of the bathroom.
It’s not thirty seconds before Kali stands up, and jerks a thumb back towards the bathroom, “Um, I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta go… do… some stuff.”
Jonathan looks at Steve, “Is that we’re calling Nancy these days?”
The waitress comes back and delivers their check and they wait, a bit impatiently for the girls to come out of the bathroom. Nancy comes first, looking out of breath, face red and lips swollen. Then Kali comes, flipping up the collar of her leather jacket to cover her neck.
“Strategically staggered entrances, you two are very subtle,” deadpans Steve, standing up so they can all leave.
“Shut up Harrington,” Kali says, linking arms with Jonathan, “Or my boyfriend is gonna kick your ass?”
Steve looks Jonathan up and down, “Eh, I could take him.”
And they head out into the cooling summer night.
Jonathan and Kali are already sitting at the back booth when Steve and Nancy walk in. Nancy looks good, Kali thinks, she always looks good. Her short hair up in a pink scrunchie, wearing a white sweater and light wash jeans. Kali wishes she could do nothing more than wrap her arms around Nancy’s slim waist and kiss her senseless. But they’re in public. So she just stands up and waves, and gives Steve, her “boyfriend” a hug. He kisses her cheek. He looks good, hair perfectly styled, in what she knows is one of Jonathan’s sweatshirts because the arms are entirely too long for him. Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy is hugging Jonathan, and she kisses his cheek softly. Kali wonders if she’s wearing her favorite watermelon lip gloss tonight.
Finally the “couples” sit down, and Kali’s hand is on Nancy’s thigh before she can even pick up the menu. Nancy giggles at that, and turns to look at Kali, biting her lip. Nancy is beautiful. Her eyelashes are long and black, her eyeliner thin and precise and perfect. She’s got blush high on her cheeks and just a dab of pink gloss on her lips. Kali wants to count her freckles.
“What are you looking at?” Kali asks quietly.
“Something beautiful.”
Kali squeezes her thigh and turns back to her menu. Steve and Jonathan’s voices are getting higher and higher because Steve keeps arguing that Jonathan should order cheese fries so Steve can have them.
“Why don’t you order cheese fries?” Asks Jonathan.
“Because I want onion rings,” Steve says whiningly.
“Well you’re just gonna have to choose,” says Jonathan.
“What a good boyfriend you are,” he mumbles under his breath turning back to the menu.
The girls laugh at him, and decide what they want and it’s not long before the waitress comes up to them,
“What can I get you guys?” She asks, with a snap of her gum.
Kali orders the double bacon cheeseburger, with well done fries, or Nancy will eat them all, and an extra pickle, for Nancy. Nancy orders a chocolate milkshake and a grilled cheese. When it’s Steve’s turn, her poutily orders a mushroom and swiss burger with onion rings, and his face lights up when Jonathan orders a plain hamburger with a side of extra large cheese fries.
“See, you do love me!” says Steve quietly, even as he reaches out to hold Kali’s hand across the table, because he needs to remember his place.
Steve wishes he could do nothing more than hang all over Jonathan. Wrap an arm around his shoulders, his waist, rest his head on his shoulder, ruffle his hair, kiss his forehead, his neck. He likes him so much. It’s such bullshit. The fact that they can’t be together in public. The fact that this whole stupid ass town is homophobic. His only solace is that his best friend happens to be gay too. They’d come up with this whole fake dating scenario while they were drunk one night, still pretending to be dating, in Nancy’s room.
She’d stolen some vodka out of her mom’s liquor cabinet and they were sipping on that and diet coke, sitting on the slant of the roof, right outside her bedroom window. Nancy liked boys and girls, she didn’t know what that made her, and when she’d announced she’d had sex the previous weekend, at some party at the college, their friend Kali had invited her too, he assumed it was a boy. Until she tipsily admitted it had been Kali and the girl had a wicked tongue. She’d blushed as she’d said it, but Steve knew she meant it, knew she loved getting eaten out, and knew how attractive Kali was. It’s not until a few drinks later when he admits Jonathan is good with his fingers, and Nancy nearly tosses him off the roof, because they’re supposed to tell each other everything dammit.
It’s neither here nor there that Nancy hadn’t told him about her sexcapades. They both gush over the other, how Jonathan is actually really cool and has great taste in music. He’d made Steve a mixtape and he adored it. Nancy had stated how Kali had let her wear her leather jacket home and it made her feel warm and protected. The thing was, no matter how much they all cared about each other, they still lived in a time where this simply wasn’t allowed.
In order to avoid suspicion, especially for the boys, so they’d announced that Steve and Nancy were together, and so was Jonathan and Kali. While the four of them had been friends, this gave them an excuse to constantly be seen together. If it was just Nancy and Kali somewhere, they figured that they were waiting for Jonathan and Steve. Or if Steve and Jonathan were somewhere, trying on clothes or buying beer and cigarettes, it was assumed, it would be for their girlfriends, and unfortunately that was the way it had to be. The four of them didn’t mind hanging out together, it was fun. There were no boundaries between them, as their couldn’t really be, being the only gay teens in their town, and best friends.
For example, if Steve’s parents would be out of town, instead of throwing parties like he’d used to, he’d invite the girls and Jonathan over. Sometimes they’d watch a movie yeah, or get high and make brownies, they’d play drinking games or card games or dance to music, but what Steve’s empty house really meant was a safe place to fuck. Kali and Nancy could practically move in to the spare bedroom if they wanted, and Nancy had taken to leaving spare toiletries and clothes over there. Steve’s parents loved Nancy, and it had been forever since a relative had visited, and Steve had told them about a hard time Nancy had been having lately. Not only that, but if Nancy was sleeping in the spare bedroom, that meant she wasn’t sleeping in Steve’s.
Steve’s parents were in town, along with everyone else’s, so they were at the diner on a date. Even though Kali’s hand rests hotly on Nancy’s thigh, or Steve’s palm is sweaty because his fingers are linked with Jonathan’s, it’s not exactly the same. It’s still fun, of course it is. Nancy’s playing with Kali’s hair and begging her for the fifth time to help color it. Kali’s dipping her fries in Nancy’s milkshake to her horror, but Kali still wants to lean in and kiss Nancy’s lip gloss off her soft lips. Steve is eating more cheese fries than Jonathan, licking his fingers teasingly, as Jonathan attempts to eat his burger. Steve’s lips are greasy and red, and his hair is starting to fall a bit, but he looks adorable. The air is blasting in the diner, and there’s goosebumps on his arms, and Jonathan wants nothing more than to slide off his plaid and put it around Steve’s shoulders.
“Hey, after this do you guys wanna go to the lookout?” Steve asks, as if noticing the look in Jonathan’s eye.
The lookout is a patch of land at the edge of town. It used to be a huge makeout spot years ago, but the police had blocked it off after lots of drug activity. You could still get there, if you drove a roundabout way and didn’t care about trekking through the woods for about half a mile. It’s not like any of them really had a choice and it wasn’t like it was bad. Jonathan always had blankets in the back of his car, a small boombox and weed. Steve was cuddly when he was high, and he wanted nothing more than to lay on his favorite quilt, high, with Steve resting on his chest, prefferably shirtless, lsitening to The Clash in the distance, and Nancy going on about the stars.
Drunk Nancy never shut the hell up, which Kali found adorable, because she never talked much sober. But she’d go on, on rants, talks of the future, random rants. It was beautiful. Kali would kiss her to shut up sometimes, mostly when Steve had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her voice, and the comfort of Joanthan’s eyes around him, and Kali wanted attention from her girlfriend. Want Nancy to straddle her, have her girlfriend half naked in the moonlight.
“Oh hell yeah,” said Nancy, “My parents are at a cocktail party, I have until at least one.”
“Can’t you say you’re staying at my place?” Kali asks, brown eyes wide.
“And stay where?”
“My mom would probably be down for letting us stay at my place. But no funny business,” He warns, eyes on Nancy.
“UH! You better talk to your boy about funny business,” she hisses, cheeks pink.
“Oh I’m gonna wear him out before we get home,” Jonathan says, squeezing Steve’s hand.
Steve winks,
“Is that true?”
“You bet your sweet ass it is.”
“Check please,” calls Steve waving his hand.
Nancy laughs so hard she almost chokes on her milkshake, and Kali slaps her back,
“I don’t know what you’re laughing for.”
“Oh I’m going to give you a run for your money,” Nancy says, going to stack up their plates.
“You always do,” Kali says, patting her thigh, wishing she could do more. But then she realizes she has the whole night to lavish her girlfriend in the attention she deserves.
“Boys are paying right?” Asks Nancy, tapping Kali so she can slide out of the booth.
“Well shit, I guess so,” Steve says as Nancy heads to the back corner of the bathroom.
It’s not thirty seconds before Kali stands up, and jerks a thumb back towards the bathroom,
“Um, I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta go… do… some stuff.”
Jonathan looks at Steve,
“Is that we’re calling Nancy these days?”
The waitress comes back and delivers their check and they wait, a bit impatiently for the girls to come out of the bathroom. Nancy comes first, looking out of breath, face red and lips swollen. Then Kali comes, flipping up the collar of her leather jacket to cover her neck.
“Strategically staggered entrances, you two are very subtle,” deadpans Steve, standing up so they can all leave.
“Shut up Harrington,” Kali says, linking arms with Jonathan, “Or my boyfriend is gonna kick your ass?”
Steve looks Jonathan up and down,
“Eh, I could take him.”
And they head out into the cooling summer night.
Jonathan and Kali are already sitting at the back booth when Steve and Nancy walk in. Nancy looks good, Kali thinks, she always looks good. Her short hair up in a pink scrunchie, wearing a white sweater and light wash jeans. Kali wishes she could do nothing more than wrap her arms around Nancy’s slim waist and kiss her senseless. But they’re in public. So she just stands up and waves, and gives Steve, her “boyfriend” a hug. He kisses her cheek. He looks good, hair perfectly styled, in what she knows is one of Jonathan’s sweatshirts because the arms are entirely too long for him. Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy is hugging Jonathan, and she kisses his cheek softly. Kali wonders if she’s wearing her favorite watermelon lip gloss tonight.
Finally the “couples” sit down, and Kali’s hand is on Nancy’s thigh before she can even pick up the menu. Nancy giggles at that, and turns to look at Kali, biting her lip. Nancy is beautiful. Her eyelashes are long and black, her eyeliner thin and precise and perfect. She’s got blush high on her cheeks and just a dab of pink gloss on her lips. Kali wants to count her freckles.
“What are you looking at?” Kali asks quietly.
“Something beautiful.”
Kali squeezes her thigh and turns back to her menu. Steve and Jonathan’s voices are getting higher and higher because Steve keeps arguing that Jonathan should order cheese fries so Steve can have them.
“Why don’t you order cheese fries?” Asks Jonathan.
“Because I want onion rings,” Steve says whiningly.
“Well you’re just gonna have to choose,” says Jonathan.
“What a good boyfriend you are,” he mumbles under his breath turning back to the menu.
The girls laugh at him, and decide what they want and it’s not long before the waitress comes up to them,
“What can I get you guys?” She asks, with a snap of her gum.
Kali orders the double bacon cheeseburger, with well done fries, or Nancy will eat them all, and an extra pickle, for Nancy. Nancy orders a chocolate milkshake and a grilled cheese. When it’s Steve’s turn, her poutily orders a mushroom and swiss burger with onion rings, and his face lights up when Jonathan orders a plain hamburger with a side of extra large cheese fries.
“See, you do love me!” says Steve quietly, even as he reaches out to hold Kali’s hand across the table, because he needs to remember his place.
Steve wishes he could do nothing more than hang all over Jonathan. Wrap an arm around his shoulders, his waist, rest his head on his shoulder, ruffle his hair, kiss his forehead, his neck. He likes him so much. It’s such bullshit. The fact that they can’t be together in public. The fact that this whole stupid ass town is homophobic. His only solace is that his best friend happens to be gay too. They’d come up with this whole fake dating scenario while they were drunk one night, still pretending to be dating, in Nancy’s room.
She’d stolen some vodka out of her mom’s liquor cabinet and they were sipping on that and diet coke, sitting on the slant of the roof, right outside her bedroom window. Nancy liked boys and girls, she didn’t know what that made her, and when she’d announced she’d had sex the previous weekend, at some party at the college, their friend Kali had invited her too, he assumed it was a boy. Until she tipsily admitted it had been Kali and the girl had a wicked tongue. She’d blushed as she’d said it, but Steve knew she meant it, knew she loved getting eaten out, and knew how attractive Kali was. It’s not until a few drinks later when he admits Jonathan is good with his fingers, and Nancy nearly tosses him off the roof, because they’re supposed to tell each other everything dammit.
It’s neither here nor there that Nancy hadn’t told him about her sexcapades. They both gush over the other, how Jonathan is actually really cool and has great taste in music. He’d made Steve a mixtape and he adored it. Nancy had stated how Kali had let her wear her leather jacket home and it made her feel warm and protected. The thing was, no matter how much they all cared about each other, they still lived in a time where this simply wasn’t allowed.
In order to avoid suspicion, especially for the boys, so they’d announced that Steve and Nancy were together, and so was Jonathan and Kali. While the four of them had been friends, this gave them an excuse to constantly be seen together. If it was just Nancy and Kali somewhere, they figured that they were waiting for Jonathan and Steve. Or if Steve and Jonathan were somewhere, trying on clothes or buying beer and cigarettes, it was assumed, it would be for their girlfriends, and unfortunately that was the way it had to be. The four of them didn’t mind hanging out together, it was fun. There were no boundaries between them, as their couldn’t really be, being the only gay teens in their town, and best friends.
For example, if Steve’s parents would be out of town, instead of throwing parties like he’d used to, he’d invite the girls and Jonathan over. Sometimes they’d watch a movie yeah, or get high and make brownies, they’d play drinking games or card games or dance to music, but what Steve’s empty house really meant was a safe place to fuck. Kali and Nancy could practically move in to the spare bedroom if they wanted, and Nancy had taken to leaving spare toiletries and clothes over there. Steve’s parents loved Nancy, and it had been forever since a relative had visited, and Steve had told them about a hard time Nancy had been having lately. Not only that, but if Nancy was sleeping in the spare bedroom, that meant she wasn’t sleeping in Steve’s.
Steve’s parents were in town, along with everyone else’s, so they were at the diner on a date. Even though Kali’s hand rests hotly on Nancy’s thigh, or Steve’s palm is sweaty because his fingers are linked with Jonathan’s, it’s not exactly the same. It’s still fun, of course it is. Nancy’s playing with Kali’s hair and begging her for the fifth time to help color it. Kali’s dipping her fries in Nancy’s milkshake to her horror, but Kali still wants to lean in and kiss Nancy’s lip gloss off her soft lips. Steve is eating more cheese fries than Jonathan, licking his fingers teasingly, as Jonathan attempts to eat his burger. Steve’s lips are greasy and red, and his hair is starting to fall a bit, but he looks adorable. The air is blasting in the diner, and there’s goosebumps on his arms, and Jonathan wants nothing more than to slide off his plaid and put it around Steve’s shoulders.
“Hey, after this do you guys wanna go to the lookout?” Steve asks, as if noticing the look in Jonathan’s eye.
The lookout is a patch of land at the edge of town. It used to be a huge makeout spot years ago, but the police had blocked it off after lots of drug activity. You could still get there, if you drove a roundabout way and didn’t care about trekking through the woods for about half a mile. It’s not like any of them really had a choice and it wasn’t like it was bad. Jonathan always had blankets in the back of his car, a small boombox and weed. Steve was cuddly when he was high, and he wanted nothing more than to lay on his favorite quilt, high, with Steve resting on his chest, prefferably shirtless, lsitening to The Clash in the distance, and Nancy going on about the stars.
Drunk Nancy never shut the hell up, which Kali found adorable, because she never talked much sober. But she’d go on, on rants, talks of the future, random rants. It was beautiful. Kali would kiss her to shut up sometimes, mostly when Steve had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her voice, and the comfort of Joanthan’s eyes around him, and Kali wanted attention from her girlfriend. Want Nancy to straddle her, have her girlfriend half naked in the moonlight.
“Oh hell yeah,” said Nancy, “My parents are at a cocktail party, I have until at least one.”
“Can’t you say you’re staying at my place?” Kali asks, brown eyes wide.
“And stay where?”
“My mom would probably be down for letting us stay at my place. But no funny business,” He warns, eyes on Nancy.
“UH! You better talk to your boy about funny business,” she hisses, cheeks pink.
“Oh I’m gonna wear him out before we get home,” Jonathan says, squeezing Steve’s hand.
Steve winks,
“Is that true?”
“You bet your sweet ass it is.”
“Check please,” calls Steve waving his hand.
Nancy laughs so hard she almost chokes on her milkshake, and Kali slaps her back,
“I don’t know what you’re laughing for.”
“Oh I’m going to give you a run for your money,” Nancy says, going to stack up their plates.
“You always do,” Kali says, patting her thigh, wishing she could do more. But then she realizes she has the whole night to lavish her girlfriend in the attention she deserves.
“Boys are paying right?” Asks Nancy, tapping Kali so she can slide out of the booth.
“Well shit, I guess so,” Steve says as Nancy heads to the back corner of the bathroom.
It’s not thirty seconds before Kali stands up, and jerks a thumb back towards the bathroom,
“Um, I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta go… do… some stuff.”
Jonathan looks at Steve,
“Is that we’re calling Nancy these days?”
The waitress comes back and delivers their check and they wait, a bit impatiently for the girls to come out of the bathroom. Nancy comes first, looking out of breath, face red and lips swollen. Then Kali comes, flipping up the collar of her leather jacket to cover her neck.
“Strategically staggered entrances, you two are very subtle,” deadpans Steve, standing up so they can all leave.
“Shut up Harrington,” Kali says, linking arms with Jonathan, “Or my boyfriend is gonna kick your ass?”
Steve looks Jonathan up and down,
“Eh, I could take him.”
And they head out into the cooling summer night.
#asks#anon#stonathan#stonathan fan fiction#stonathan fan fic#kalancy#kalancy fan fic#kalancy fan fiction#stranger things fan fic#stranger things fan fiction#fan fiction#lgbtq#wlw#mlm#stranger things#Nancy Wheeler#Kali Prasad#steve harrington#jonathan byers
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Your tv experience is not universal
So I got this ask, like, two months ago. And it took me a few minutes to figure out what they were talking about, since they provided absolutely no context. But luckily the post they were responding to was recent enough that I managed to guess correctly. I then decided to wait a while to respond, in order to make it harder to guess, in order to demonstrate the folly of providing so little context in a rather snippy Tumblr ask. See, because this anon is basically depending on me to make their random-ass comment look like it makes sense, but they aren’t exactly getting on my good side by copping an attitude.
Anyway, rhetorical masochist that I am, I wanted to write a legitimate response. All will be explained under the cut, but basically: My TV experience is representative, which is sufficient to make my point, buddy.
All right, in June I commented on some Star Trek screencaps, saying that the show’s prediction that television will “not last much beyond 2040” is on track to be eerily accurate. In support of that point, I described how preposterous I found the prediction back when I first saw this episode, and how drastically my television consumption has already changed since then.
Obviously one cannot determine what all television viewers will do based on what I do. However, the changes in my TV behavior are of a kind with anecdotal accounts of cord-cutters, of declining ratings, of the TV industry’s fixation on live sports for stemming their losses, of kids growing up more interested in YouTube than the “boob tube.” It still baffles me that I have to spell this out, which I didn’t want to do in a brief comment on a reblog, but here’s a nice shiny tl;dr essay for those who get off on me doing it the long way.
I suppose someone might want to get super-pedantic and devastatingly point out that I’m basing my claim here on anecdotal evidence without any hard statistics or citations to back it up. Firstly, no shit, I was making a funny little comment, not testifying in court. Secondly, if you’re gonna go there, you therefore set yourself up to do the legwork you’re suggesting I should have done. If that’s what you want to do, you’ll need a lot better than implying I don’t resemble most TV viewers by trivially “proving” I can’t resemble all of them.
This is a lot of time to waste going after a six-word ask I received two months ago, but honestly I find the topic interesting enough to invite even this meager prompt for further examination. How do we define “television” well enough to agree on the conditions for its extinction? Why does it seem unremarkable to assert that TV has died out by 2384 (nobody on Star Trek watches it) but questionable to predict its demise as soon as 2040?
So, let’s provide a little context for “The Neutral Zone,” the Trek episode in question. The Enterprise picks up some people who were cryogenically frozen in 1994. One of them, Sonny, wants to “see if the Braves are on” and nobody understands his request. I think this context provides a good sense of what “television” meant to people in the 20th century--the notion of turning on a screen to receive a video feed and watching whatever programs happen to be on the air. Sonny is explicitly looking for a baseball game, not a “TV show,” so we’re talking about the medium, not genres developed for that medium.
It is implicitly understood that things like theatrical films, home video releases, and the Internet are not “television” because you don’t use a “television set” to consume them. It is also implicit that services like Netflix and MLB Network are not “television” because they compete with traditional “television networks.” We collectively describe all this stuff as providing “video” but not “television.” Colloquially, “television” is understood to be limited to the video signal that can be provided by a TV station over a TV channel to a TV set, without the Internet. Replacing any or all of those qualifications results in a thing that is treated as an alternative to television.
With all that in mind, “television” is going away because we are moving away from TV stations to internet services, from TV channels to on-demand archives, and from dedicated TV sets to video devices that do not exclusively support television signals. The TV show is not going anywhere anytime soon, but the “TV” part of that term is becoming a holdover from a bygone era, in the same way “radio” now means “program with no video” and “phone” means “handheld computer,” irrespective of the technology that inspired the terminology.
Now, it’s still absurd for Star Trek to predict that humans will one day stop killing time by passively watching video of a baseball game for three hours. I can’t take that seriously. But the idea that we’ll channel surf the boob tube because we don’t have anything else to do? That’s already on its way out.
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Tiny
Pt 1 cuz I can never seen to get it all in one part.
Tags –
@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @abiwim
...
Irony, oh the deliciously bitter taste of it. Pianos raining from the sky always was your favorite death for the cartoon characters you grew up on. Slumping into your bus seat you crossed your legs brushing down the flowy peach floral coated sundress back down again then slid your fingers across your middle across the thick denim vest under your leather coat bouncing your boot coated foot to the song replaying through your head.
Once again your latest job interview had been a flop, apparently the required degrees were useless without a lifetimes supply of experience that you lacked, though this latest job had been merely as an illustrator for a Children’s book company. Yet again the silent no rang through their eyes, starting always with the struggle to say your name, the endless sense of humor, Tinúviel, your parent’s love of Tolkien never ended and the first blink of your silvery eyes and pitch black hair sealed your fate.
In the passing days their joy faded slightly as your silver eyes dimmed to a pale lilac shade that deepened as you aged shining brighter revealing the lingering ring of silver within them adding to the dim fate of ‘No’. Day by day your parent’s joy grew as you had, as they originally hoped, grew to be just as breathtaking as your Grandmother, your namesake and guardian as your parents were once again sent overseas for their work. The life of Marine Biologists drew them from home often leaving you to dive shamelessly into your sketchbooks and endless supplies of paint between their ordered nightly reading of Tolkien over skype even through your early adult years.
Once again the lyrics replayed -
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
A glint on your right drew your eyes that soon widened as your had gripped your bag resting on your lap to rush to the other side of the bus at the sight of the truck with a giant piano painted across the hood to crash into the bus right at your section. Glass shattered trough the metal crunching as you were hurled through the air only to open your eyes at the cold surface in the darkened area you had landed in. Shifting your eyes your hands released your bag to grip your dress as a large hand grabbed your leg and dangled you midair causing your long curls to hang above your head. Turning your head your glimpse of the group of Dwarves all wrapped in sacks as a familiar sacked Hobbit stared at you open mouthed stunned at where you had come from.
Turning back brushing your hands to clutch the dress lower on your thighs your eyes landed on the Troll gripping you chatting with the two at his side on how to cook you.
Wiggling one of your feet free you kicked his finger as hard as you could, ignoring the stunned Company around you, screaming, “Hey Ass hat!” You kicked his finger again as the trolls all turned to look at you while the younger Dwarf Princes snickered in their heap behind you, “I’m a Lady Damnit! You put me right side up right now! I’m in a dress you know!”
Darting his eyes from his kin back to you your body was tossed mid air so you could be gripped tightly around your torso in his fist before he asked, “What sort of Kin do you have to abandon a Lady to wander unattended?”
Blowing softly the last of the curls coating your face after the shake of your head left your eyeline as you sighed wiggling your arms free to rest on the top of his fist, “It’s a really long story.”
Settling down the three Trolls turned to you as the eldest said, “We’ve got a gaggle of Dwarves to boil and broil so you go on ahead.”
Nodding you drew in a breath, “Ok, well it started last week with this message I got from my Cousin Shelly…” Snores and eyes rolling back in their heads your endless ramble of a story that only Bofur could easily follow continued through to your next piece, “Then her intended just ran off with another woman, not even a suitable match. She sells fruit, fruit, in the middle of the Mountains! Just some random fruit stand stop and he’s run off with the Kiwi Queen!” Blinking at your arms flailing around as you emphasized your speech through your pace after you’d been lowered and freed at their growing interest in your melodrama. Bilbo’s eyes shifted to the bushes noticing your pointing finger behind your back before you tapped your other wrist giving another arm flail as the Hobbit spotted the coming sunrise soon freed as Gandalf split the boulder blocking you from it.
.
Turning away from the troll statues you walked to the side of the Dwarf King giving him a faint smile through his waking glare as the cracked boulder woke him from his nap. Untying him first you shifted and went to help him free his Kin feeling their eyes lingering on the softly glowing woman before them as they watched you collect your bag and turn to them again. Waving you walked closer allowing the full glaring group to circle you mumbling to each other in what you’d assumed as Khuzdul, somehow being one of the endless languages you’d learned back in your own world. After your brief explanation the squinting Wizard paced as the Dwarves all circled again in conference causing you to roll your head back in an exaggerated sigh breaking their speech as you called out, “I get that you don’t trust me, but how would a giant heap of gold and weapons smooth things over with you?”
Turning to face you your smirk grew catching Gloin’s eyes sparkling as he timidly asked, “Miss, Elf maiden, you said a ‘giant’ heap of gold?”
“Well, depending on your definition of giant, but yes, there’s a Troll hoard in those peaks up there and it’s all yours if you don’t kill me or whatever you’re voting about.”
All glancing at Thorin they waited for his final vote as he eyed you curiously before saying, “For now the gold will earn you a spot in our group until we reach the next village.”
.
Waiting outside the cave you spotted Thorin’s near scowl at the Elven blade drawing another eye roll and sigh from you that didn’t go unmissed from him before you turned to wait by the tree looking around as your fingers on your right hand trailed over your ears feeling the new points they had formed. Then untangling your hair from your dangling earrings branching through the two piercings going up along the lower half of your ears. The sapphires and diamonds coating the studs shaped as stars with chains and white gold stars hanging from them drew the eyes of the group curiously wondering why an Elf would ever pierce their ears confirming at least partly your story of being sent here.
Moving closer Thorin approached you curiously eyeing you clutching the sword before him. Pausing before you he asked, “Is there something about this sword I need to know?”
Your eyes met his to say, “Orcrist, forged in Gondolin, you won’t find another like it in these lands, but feel free to hand it over if you don’t wish to keep it.”
Exhaling his eyes narrowed as he drew the leather strap laying over his shoulder and passed you a set of twin blades similar to Orcrist, “You’re unarmed, at least to our eyes.”
A smirk slid on your face drawing a curious sparkle in his eyes, “And here I thought you were just going to unfeelingly drop me on the nearest village without so much as a wave goodbye.”
Raising a brow he asked after wetting his lips and swallowing, “We would never leave a woman unprotected, especially a Lady.”
Giggling you replied, “When I said Lady I was referring to my gender not the title Prince Thorin.”
His brow rose again at your using his name without introduction, “Your name then? Since you’re so familiar with ours?”
“Friends called me Tini, or Tiny, depending on who they were and how tall they were.”
He nodded slightly asking, “And your full name, we’re not writing down Tiny the Elleth in our Journal for this Journey.”
“Tinuviel Erchamion,” His brows rose, “My Parents had a sense of humor.” Unable to think of any words at all, pouring his gaze deeper into your eyes his body turned and he trudged away starting the trek off through the forest again, with a stolen glance back at you being helped with strapping the swords across your back by Gandalf who gave your shoulders a gentle pat remaining at your side through the dark forest walk at the end of the pack.
…
Rolling your eyes again you slid your bag forward grabbing one of your breakfast bars from it to snack on, giving a flashing smile to Bilbo who turned as he caught the scent of the chocolate drizzle. Shifting quietly backwards through the two bickering elder Ri brothers you passed half to him gaining a signed thanks as he eagerly scarfed it down while you finished yours and drew your water bottle for a drink then passing it to him and the curious Ori after before putting it away again. Glancing past them your eyes rolled again at the whispered conversations ahead of you, eyeing the rock formation ahead you gently tapped Bilbo’s shoulder giving him another smile passing him another of your breakfast bars saying, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Opening his mouth his voice cracked as you gave Ori a gentle pat on the shoulder repeating the same then walking off by yourself while the rest carried on ahead without a clue. Passing you entirely the group neared the top of the hill Thorin was leading them to when he stopped to steal another glance at you only to find you missing. Turning sideways he spotted you hopping onto the lowest rock forming a large pile before giving a soft growl and trudging heavily to go claim you again. Rushing forward with your slide into a hole he’d have to save you from, jumping to the top he caught sight of you nearing the first corner in the hidden path as he called out, “Where are you going?” The Company all piled around him watching as you pointed farther into the crevice, “Your immeasurable burden is going to Rivendell, you’re free Master Oakenshield.”
Turning again you took the corner following the path as they one by one slid into the crevice to follow you allowing Thorin and Bilbo to reach your sides admiring the city when it came into full view.
Following the path the Company trailed your steps as Gandalf instructed them not to speak in hopes of easing their acceptance into the city. One by one guards approached as another familiar face walked to the foot of the steps and nearly stumbled with a stunned expression when he spotted you. Straightening his robes he moved closer with his eyes locked on you as you smiled at him causing the Dwarves to group closer to you. A few feet away Lindir stopped bowing his head to you as you said, “Lindir, pleasure to finally meet you.”
His smile twitched larger as he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something only to turn and move aside as Lord Elrond came to the foot of the stairs and froze when he saw you as well causing Thorin to ask, “Do you know him?”
You smiled at him saying, “I know him, but we’ve never met.”
Turning to the still frozen Elf Lord you stepped forward giving him a smile saying, “Lord Elrond, bit of a complicated explanation, but I sort of woke up here after dying. But you can call me Tini, everyone used to.”
Swallowing dryly he asked, “Tini, is that short-.”
Smiling larger, “Tinuviel, after my Grandmother. Let me guess, there’s a likeness to the original?”
He nodded, “An exact copy. Welcome to Rivendell. You and your traveling companions are welcome here. I’ll have a meal prepared for all of you.”
.
The men bathed as you followed the Elf Lord explaining the situation more fully as he said you were free to remain here as long as you wished and anything you needed would be gifted to you, claiming the seat at his side Elves passed staring as they did bowing their heads as they passed each giving a faint whisper of ‘Princess’ as they did. One by one they drove your nerves to spike as you looked to Elrond who stated, “For our records you will be recorded as the returned Princess,” His hand gently rested on yours, “Mainly for your safety and to assure your well treatment through your journeys here.”
Shifting your eyes Thorin eased his tense shoulders and claimed the seat at your side giving you a faint smile, “So I hear you’re a Princess?”
Blinking you replied, “My Parents are Scientists, study aquatic animals, it’s only a title Lord Elrond is claiming due to my likeness to my namesake. No worries you can go back to being your usual brooding self, no need to force polite conversations assuming I’m anything close to your equals.”
His smile dimmed slightly unable to find even a hint of sarcasm in your statement before he said, “You were sent here, with that face and that name for a reason. And though my Company has to move on without you I do hope once we’ve achieved our goal you would join us for a visit in our Homeland. I assure you you would be well treated there, up to your new title.”
Sighing your hand folded around your glass giving them a chance to eye the white gold spiral rings coated in sapphires curled around your right middle finger covering from knuckle to knuckle with three bright diamonds mixed in representing the Simarills as you took a sip and lowered it again. “You’re lucky you’re impossibly handsome or I might just be mad at you leaving me here and expecting me to still visit you after.” Dropping your gaze to start eating Thorin’s lips parted as your compliment sunk in as Elrond blinked through his shock while Gandalf chuckled softly enjoying his one tiny glass of wine he was allowed.
..
Walking through the glowing city you claimed a seat between two roots settling down with your sketch book landing on the next to last page with a near painful sting lifting your broken pencil from the fall, adjusting it in your fingers starting your sketch of the eastern stretch of the Kingdom with all the waterfalls. Detailing the sketch your few additions, unknowingly to you, a few flowers here and vines coating a few pillars that soon sprouted from glowing orbs of light with each finalized line forming them drawing several stunned gasps from the Elves nearby. A shadow passed onto your paper causing your head to turn bringing the apologetic gaze that dimmed as Lindir’s eyes locked with yours to say, “Princess, I apologize for disturbing you.”
You smiled larger, “No need to apologize, and I’m no Princess. You can join me if you like.”
He smiled and moved closer to settle near your side at a comfortable distance as he eyed your sketch noting the changes and the creations they had spawned making his smile grow. Daily between learning the Company and the few Elves willing to speak with you, crossing the imaginary class barrier accepting your friendship and sharing more about yourselves and this new world. Nightly however you would tour the Kingdom accepting tour after tour from Lindir, who eagerly soaked up your stories from your lifetime between the few stories he shared.
The night the Company left however left a sting in your chest missing them already, nearly two nights later after avoiding Lady Galadriel you ran into Lindir at the back gate with a bag and a wrapped package in his hands as he gave you a saddened smile, “I guessed you were thinking of leaving soon.” Dropping your eyes he held the package out for you with a forced smile, “I got you something.”
Smiling you accepted it, breaking the seal holding the paper together around the intricately wrapped leather bound journals that brought a large smile to your face before you crashed into him with a large hug, bringing an awkward smile to his face in return passing you the bag he had, “Thank you Lindir.”
“There’s a few changes of clothes in your size, some basic healing supplies and another empty journal.” His hands carefully folded over yours, “Please stay safe Melon.”(Friend).
…
Rain poured over you coating you completely soaking through your exposed jeans, thankfully your coat held out the rain, at least for now. Maps, how in hell could I forget to study map reading better. Shifting the paper under a rocky ledge you huffed folding it and sliding it back into the weatherproof bag Lindir had gifted you. Turning again you continued your path through the worst of the storm that broke from rain into snow instantly, as if you had passed through an invisible barrier. Eying your surroundings you paused at the first cave you could find, setting your bag down and changing your wet clothes before continuing on giving the snoring bears farther inside the cave another shifting glance as you left confirming they were still sleeping.
Snapping your coat back together over the strange fitting Elven layers your eyes scanned over the snow your feet barely brushed away through your steps hoping to remain on the same path. Coated in snow an open rocky path appeared as night fell around you, dropping suddenly with darkness and the pausing of the onslaught of white coating your layers. Brushing it free from you the path grew rockier delving deeper and deeper into a rocky crevice that drew a giggle from you at the familiarity of it. Avoiding the lake you followed the memory straight to the only tree you could find resembling the one outside the hidden Elven door. Stepping forward you uttered ‘Melon’ quietly causing a deep crack to form on the solid rockwall without a trace of glowing ithildin at the covered moon.
Reaching in your bag you quickly sketched the large pillard hall and all the rooms you could remember with brightly glowing trees formed of glowing crystals bringing massive pained screams from inside the orc and goblin infested Kingdom. The final touches were small clumps of ash forming from the creatures burning alongside a larger pile from the crumbling Balrog as the endless waves of the Men of Dunharrow forming the Army of the Dead cleansed the halls down to the deepest depths.
Scream after scream you leaned against the wall inside the now closed door covering your mouth as tears streamed down your face at the near deafening echoes. Instantly a numbing silence fell through Moria at the last of their kind falling. Rising with a tremor your fingers clutched around the book you pinned to your chest for a step against the invisible crushing wave of silent echoing ghostly boots fighting to keep you in your hiding spot.
Moving into the brightly lit hall, wiping your cheeks, the Army turned with curious eyes sliding over you at your brief wave, “I, um, thank you.”
Stepping closer their leader bowed lowly to you with a ghostly expression akin to a smirk on his deteriorating skeleton, “For you Lady Luthien, any force you aim us at will fall. Was this your only task for us?”
You nodded, “Yes, thank you, really.”
Their expressions softened, bowing to you in ripples as they faded in a whispering breeze wafting them back to their dwelling leaving you alone again you followed the main hall tracing the steps you saw in the movie as best as you could somehow finding the back exit towards Lothlorien after sketching a riddle of your own around it sealing the Mountain for you.
.
Sighing, you exited slipping your book back in your bag and made for the edge of the woods trailing the edge of the river. Stepping lightly across the shifting small smooth stones the green grew around you again. Raising your arms your fingers rose to remove your hair tie to fix the dropping ponytail hanging to the middle of your back across the bag over your shoulder before returning your grip onto the strap on your arm. Trailing the forest edge drawing closer shifting green inside brought the watching guards to your attention.
Glancing at the water again your path shifted wider to pass up the stalking Osprey eyeing you closely then returning to its meal as you moved on with a faint smile. The sun rose higher drawing your feet to a stop at the next rocky peak, opening your bag the last package of your dried fruit found its way into your hand while the guards moved closer holding their distance locking their eyes on you. Watching as you held a piece out for a small Robin that landed next to you hopping happily as it finished the piece of strawberry you’d offered before claiming the next for yourself as the group neared again, pausing as you called out, “One of you wouldn’t happen to be Haldir would you?”
Freezing the guards glanced at each other from behind their trees before the blonde in question approached, “I am Haldir, but I have no recollection of you my-.”
His words broke at your head turning to face him, “You wouldn’t, but I know you. I’m merely passing through, no need to keep stalking me. If your Lord Celeborn is curious of my arrival he can ask Lord Elrond about my stay. Left just a short while ago.”
He nodded his head then wet his dry lips as he swallowed dryly, “Are you in need of any supplies?”
You shook your head, “No, thank you though.”
Bowing his head to you he and the rest of the guards slipped back through the woods to their former posts allowing you your meal in peace. For days you followed the river pausing for short rests turning to the trees each time finding the March Warden approaching with another set of food rations for you, under the guise of claiming a break for himself. “Lord Elrond sent word Princess, though even he is unsure of your destination.”
Meeting his eyes a dazed expression slid onto his face at your large smile, “Well that would make two of us.” Brushing the stray curls hanging into your face behind your ear, “Though I’m sure this river will lead me to it.”
Blinking he wet his lips again shuffling his feet slowly, inching closer to you, “Will you come back?”
You smiled at him again, “Probably. But I’m sure we’ll meet again. I shouldn’t be too far away.”
Nodding again he said, “Then we will be eagerly awaiting your return.” Giving you a kind smile making you giggle drawing his dazed expression out again.
“We? So far you’re the only Elf here I’ve spoken to. But I’m sure it shouldn’t take too long.”
He nodded again, “That rocky path is the end of our borders and I won’t be able to bring you supplies any longer, but we can send word through to Greenwood if you wish.”
You smirked at him, “I’m not sure it would make much of a difference. Thank you for your kindness, and company I do hope you haven’t gotten into too much trouble for our daily meetings.”
He chuckled softly, “I volunteered for the privilege of monitoring your passing.”
“Watching me stumble in the rocks, quite a privilege. Hope you got a few laughs at least.”
Chuckling again he glanced at the tree line as a bird call sounded, once again calling him back to safety in their borders, bowing deeply he smiled softly at you, “I wish you safe travels Princess and a swift return.”
…
Silence and unease surrounded you passing the unclaimed stretch of Greenwood, pausing for another meal your book was opened on your lap and you sketched while you snacked. Branches danced and shook as your sketch drew to completion shifting the leaves to a deep green brightening as butterflies formed a coat above them fluttering happily at the stirring trees.
Flipping the page over your pencil found the page again as the darkened peak in the far edge of the withered forest lit up forcing a pained scream surrounded by more and more while it cleansed the peak now shifting into the castle you copied from memory of old sketches of the former lost Kingdom finalized with an invisible barrier you added to keep it safe. Line by line on the following page a comic strip formed easily drawing the withered form of Thrain from that keep towards the river gaining his former girth and sturdy beard as he did silently hoping that it would actually work.
Step after step the forest grew around you switching from the silent unclaimed section abutting the chattering forest swaying at your arrival. Night fell bringing you to folding your still slightly damp clothes leaving you back in your dress and vest coating it for your entrance to the borders of Northern Greenwood. Double knotting your second boot a soft crunching turned your head as you stood with a soft smile as the Dwarf Prince came into view. Bowing his head with a cautious gaze around you the corners of his mouth flicked upwards before he said, “I’m not sure why, but I’m supposed to meet you here.”
Your smile grew as you offered him some of your lembas, “I sent for you. I’m Tini, I know your Son Thorin. He’s been looking for you.”
Moving closer his shaking hand folded around the bread to lift it for a bite as you eyed his dirt coated form helping him to the fallen log beside you resting his tired feet. While you used the healing kit to mend his chaffed wrists and the few scattered cuts along his cheeks after you helped him to the river to scrub using your soap. Sliding the dust and dirt caked layers he accepted the comb you drew for him to fix his beard and thinned hair as he asked, “How is my Son?”
You smiled at him drawing a deeply buried light in his eyes closer to the surface, “Grumpy and stubborn, brooding and impeccably well dressed for a wandering Blacksmith. He’ll be coming as soon as he finds out I’ve found you, I’m sorry I didn’t escort you from the keep but I don’t know these lands it was easier to have you find me.”
He smiled softer at you in return sliding his eyes over your face, “Not a problem Miss Tini. I would have preferred it that you didn’t go near that place, far too dark. Though there was this light when I left.” Tilting his head slightly he asked, “That was yours wasn’t it?”
You nodded, “Had to get you out somehow and light seems to do the trick.” His eyes dropped to your book, “Apparently, I found out I can create things with my drawings. A new friend gifted me the book.”
His smile grew, “Thorin is lucky to have made a friend like you.”
Giggling again you helped him to his feet saying, “Oh he hasn’t known me that long. There’s tons to turn him away from befriending me yet.” Eyeing him up and down you raised your book with a soft exhale, “We can’t have you wandering around in that. It’s going to be simple, but it’ll be better than your shirt.” Eyeing him again your pencil sketched his frame feeling the flowing inside your body as you did watching the colors and fabrics in your mind forming each detail. Adding the deep blue shirt with three quarter sleeves, and black pants under with simple but thick square toed boots with a fur lining with thick socks sticking out of the top to ensure they would appear as well bringing a smile to the Dwarf’s face while he slid his hands over the new layers.
Meeting your eyes again he said, “Thank you. So much, that is quite a gift you have there, and I am honored to have received something from it.”
Smiling at him again you put your book and pencil back up again, claiming another piece of lembas to share as you nodded your head to the side, “We should keep moving. If you get cold let me know, I can try for my first coat.”
He chuckled softly joining your side contently noting his eye line at your shoulder wondering if he’d grown or shrunk through his imprisonment, “Shouldn’t get too cold. Doesn’t feel like fall’s reached through the trees yet.”
..
Holding your hand out Thrain accepted your hand climbing over an overturned log after allowing you first due to your short dress. Smiling at him you watched him smooth down his new shirt making sure it wasn’t snagged on anything and flicking any trace of dirt from it at each obstacle revealing his cherishing your gift. A flash of red caught your attention making your smile grow causing Thrain’s curious glance around at your smile at nothing. Looking at the nearby trees you asked, “Tauriel?”
Thrain looked up at you as the red haired Elleth came into view poking her head out from behind the tree she hid behind cautiously looking you up and down asking, “How do you know that name?”
Your smile grew seeing her fully before you, “It’s hard to explain. This is Thrain Son of Thror, fallen King of Erebor, and you can call me Tini. I was hoping we could have a word with your King?”
Cautiously eyeing you again she lowered her blades with a soft exhale bowing her head to Thrain, “Prince Thrain Welcome to Greenwood, I’ll lead you to our King.”
You smiled at her again as she took in the details on your earrings while he said, “Thank you. I’ll be glad to see an old friend again.”
Moving to the side she allowed you forward as a group of blonde Elves joined you from their hiding places as you scanned the group she caught you biting your lip trying to hold back the pout you felt coming on at the absence of the Elven Prince then turned back again.
..
Widening again your smile grew as the front gate came into view, lowering your eyes again Thrain tapped your elbow offering his arm kindly making you giggle softly as he whispered, “I’m sure they’ll give you the full tour if you wish.”
The guards stole glances at you again wondering at your strange clothes and jewelry trailing you to the Throne Room door you had stopped at. Shifting your fingers along his thinly muscled bicep the doors shifted shut allowing Tauriel time to inform the King before you were finally welcomed inside.
Following the tall blonde in front of you your eyes locked on the rail-less walkway you were led across before the guards halted stopping your path near the Throne as the Elf King’s voice rang out above you, “Prince Thrain, Welcome to Greenwood. Your Son has spent a long time searching for you,” looking at Thrain your smile grew as he replied.
“Thank you for your welcome. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken. It’s heart warming to speak to such an old friend again.”
Thranduil’s eyes narrowed slightly eying the bag and swords strapped to your bag curiously, “That it is. Though I am curious who your companion is Prince Thrain.”
Turning your head his eyes widened as his lips parted along with the guards who hadn’t gotten a clear glance at you before as you smiled brightly while Thrain said, “This is Miss Tini, she rescued me. Led me through the forest until we met your guards.”
Standing Thranduil started his decent down the stairs approaching at an easy pace then halting at the foot of the stairs before saying in a questioning tone, “Miss Tini?” You nodded, “And you don’t go by any other name?” Taking a few steps closer noting your short stature against his.
“I’ve been told by Lord Elrond I bear a resemblance to my namesake,”
He cut you off, “Lady Luthien?”
You forced your smile back after it had dropped at Thrain’s arm tensing at the title, “My parents named me Tinuviel after my Grandmother, who was named for the original doomed lover herself. But everyone calls me Tini, or Tiny depending on how close they were to me.”
The Elf King’s eyes shifted between you two, “And yet you neglected to inform the Prince just who he was escorted by?”
A smirk slid across your face as you replied, “Your Son shares a name with another Legolas in your Kin’s past, did he inherit his titles and accomplishments as well or is it just to those who bear a resemblance, granted of course, if he doesn’t in fact bear a resemblance?”
Thranduil’s eyes narrowed at you again, “You have her name and her face, who’s to say you aren’t her?”
“For one I haven’t made a strike at Morgoth, for two, my Mother wasn’t a Maiar, or shown any affection for me at all. Plus the giant glaring difference of not having even seen my Parents in 14 years since I was a child, but that was only because they visited me when I had a bad accident and they were gone before I woke up when the Doctors told them I wasn’t going to die, before that it had been four years for a drop in on my birthday. Not even mentioning the whole, ready to revoke eternity for the love of a Mortal bit.”
Stepping closer to you he eyed the swords in your bag drawing one revealing nearly half of the blade, “And yet you bear Gondolian blades. If not Luthien, then who are you?”
“I’m nobody of importance. Prince Thorin gifted me these blades, we found them in a Troll hoard before he left me in Rivendell.”
“Then how did you arrive here before him if he left before you?”
You shrugged, “Sheer dumb luck I suppose, plus I haven’t slept in over a week and following the river near Lothlorien probably kept me on a truer path than the one I assume Thorin’s taken.” Turning to face Thrain you said, “Sorry, but he is a bit rough with a map.”
Thrain chuckled softly saying, “Bit of a Durin weakness dear, nothing new to hear.”
Giggling you turned to the King who seemed slightly relieved and un-tensing as your eyes met his again, “So Lord Elrond and Celeborn will confirm your places in their Kingdoms if I send for confirmation?”
“Well, Lord Elrond I met but I merely passed along the borders of Lothlorien, though their March Warden Haldir ensured I made it safely through their lands.”
Thranduil nodded, “Prince Thrain, I will send word to your kin in the Iron Hills and ensure your safe travels. Miss Tini, however, you will remain my guest until your story is confirmed and I am satisfied enough as to your identity and intentions in my lands.” Turning he instructed you both to be escorted to the rooms he had ordered earlier as he slid your bags from your shoulder causing your lips to part, “I will be examining these as well.”
Exhaling you forced a smile back at him, “Do what you wish, There’s a journal and a locket in a small coin purse in the older bag, it was my Grandmother’s do what you want with everything else don’t break that. It’s all I have of hers.”
Nodding his head and eyeing you again when you followed the guards while Thrain grabbed your arm curling it around his bicep giving your hand a gentle pat saying, “Don’t you worry dear. He’ll release you soon. I know with a light like yours he couldn’t dream of harming you.”
“I suppose it’s merely his curiosity. I assume it’s something like the several times your Durin has returned to you.”
Thrain chuckled softly patting your hand again, “Though my Dear, he knew from the start who he was. In the least you’re her Granddaughter.”
.
Your room was immaculate, grand and massive leading to your early removal of your boots wishing not to touch anything so you wouldn’t soil the clean surfaces. Moving to the windowsill you removed your jacket laying it inside out to sit down on looking out at the stars after snapping off a scraggly branch tapping against the window pane. Listening as Thrain eased himself onto the bed in the room beside yours over the guards blocking your door that had been locked behind you as more filed in outside your window blocking your view. Exhaling your fingers rose to pull your ponytail free so you could run your fingers through it closing your eyes trying to calm yourself with thoughts of your Grandmother as the click of another door closing nearby sounded out. How am I supposed to get him to trust me. Sliding your fingers over the stick absently.
..
Walking into his rooms Thranduil walked into his bedroom setting the bags on the empty table along the wall pulling out item after item. First his fingers found your still wet clothes drawing his eyes to furrow as he dug through the pockets, refolded and stacked them before digging through the other dirt coated replacements.
Empty pockets, random tubes with small lids all filled with wax smelling like fruit, a comb, broken hair clip, journals that he set to the side along with the coin purse you had mentioned. Leaving only another leather folded pouch, pulling at the fold his eyes scanned curiously wondering if he’d broken it only to relax at the hidden pockets contained behind the metal snapping button. Small cards and colorful paper with portraits and numbers all in some strange script with another jingling pouch with strange coins. A small portrait behind a card drew his eye, you and an older twin with a legendary scar across the elder’s cheek parted his lips, No, not Luthien. But kin none the less. Why is she here?
Snapping it together again he set it aside to raise the small hard rectangle with yellow and green dots over the black back that drew his eye from the bag. Turning it his fingers slid over the metal raised ovals that he took turns hitting before flinching as the front lit up revealing a small flashing rectangle before it died again. Try after try he kept hitting it without success at being able to replicate the reaction again.
Exhaling he set it with the others before finding only a few random bits of ribbon and a pouch of pencils and wax colored sticks, examining each of them before claiming his seat lifting the first of the journals. Settling back his leg rested across the other gently easing the tight cover back, timidly flipping the first few pages before gripping the sides of the pages to quickly flip through the rest seeing the empty state of the book until he landed on a note intricately placed on the page reading, “I await in wonder imagining your future creations, Your eternal friend, Lindir”
Lindir. Hmm. Shutting the book he set it aside eyeing that books twin and collected it, easing back again then flipping it open and eyeing the strange drawings. Glowing trees in Dwarf Halls. Piles of ash and a skeleton army. Birds, butterflies…then Thrain…
Blank pages again left a stirring curiosity through the Elf King as he skimmed over the same dedication on the inner cover before claiming the larger journal worn with age. Page by page the intricate drawings caused his lips to part as he noted the known and unknown subjects before he landed on one of him. Seated on his bed with a smile in a simple shirt over baggy pants bearing a wrapped Infant he was cooing at while the hand curled around his fingers.
It wasn’t his room, his clothes but the sentiment behind it, the hours you must have spent on it, something about it warmed his heart. Flipping through again Thorin was next, shirtless though with a tattoo he would never bear, a Raven facing the wrong way across his chest rather than his shoulders bearing two Children across his chest. Followed by, who he assumed to be, the rest of the Durin clan then Legolas with Tauriel in one after with one of the Durins surrounded by Children.
Strange landscapes followed with a few strange smiling faces mixed with more of your Grandmother. Each image filled him with a brief knowledge of who you could be followed by more images of the same Dwarves and Legolas with the last ten pages covered in varying sketches of the Elf King. On his Elk, his throne, randomly in gardens and the last few dancing with extra care taken into detailing his face and eyes. Somehow she knows us, our world, but how? Ending with two pages of scattered sketches in Rivendell including one of Lindir.
Holding onto your journals he set your belongings back into the bags leaving your clothes he called a guard in to have them taken to be cleaned along with your swords before collecting the coin purse to open it and timidly draw out the white gold locket shaped as an owl coated in diamonds and onyx stones on the front. Opening it carefully his eyes landed on a man nearly the twin of Dior, Luthien’s only known Son beside a woman bearing a nose similar to yours that must be your Mother. Returning the locket to the pouch he noticed the small key inside turning his eyes to the last thickly wrapped journal with a solid lock on it.
Raising it the key eased in the lock to open and hesitating wondering if he should open it before finding his fingers had already flicked the cover back. More of the strange script mingled with passages in Quenya, Khuzdul and Sindar were scrawled across the pages along with several images ranging back to the Years of the Trees. This must be the Grandmother’s journal.
Stopping again, his face was on the page as a child in the background near his Families’ shop alongside his Parents. Minutes he lingered on their faces remembering that day, seeing Luthien there, how differently she carried herself. Flipping again his hope for more on that day were dashed landing him with only more on her life’s journey ending with a shift to more landscapes like yours after Namo’s symbol at the start of the page.
Their mortal lives must have ended and sent them there.
Skimming through he focused on the sketches and sheets with burned in images of you growing in her arms making him smile until he got to the last pages added in folded, refolded, crumpled then straightened and tear stained. All in words he couldn’t understand but each word driving a pain he knew closer to the surface, all those images, all of you two, none with your Parents and just this, a simple tear stained sheet coated in butterflies with a signature at the bottom.
Her goodbye. Turning his head barely in time as his tears slid down his cheeks, another warm streak slid down through a trembling breath as his lip quivered and he shut the book re-locking it and adding it inside the bag after he wiped his cheeks. Shutting his eyes he rubbed his face sniffling at the memories trying to flood back only lowering them as a gentle tap came to the back of one of his hands. Opening his eyes they widened as he scanned the room with an open mouth eyeing the glowing bright blue butterflies flowing in from the open door to his rooms as a guard entered with a timid smile and bowed his head, “My King, there are butterflies in the Castle.”
He nodded, “I can see that. Where are they coming from?”
“Lady Luthien’s door.”
Thranduil’s eyes narrowed as he walked to the open doorway and saw for himself the butterflies flying through the thick wooden door as another guard called for him drawing him towards an overlook facing the front gates after saying, “She does not leave her room!” The sight dropping his jaw even lower at the side of his Son wearing the same expression alongside the guards.
Moving closer his hands rested on the railing watching the swarms of butterflies flying over the forest that was now shifting and shaking free their darkened bark with loud groans as the shrieks of the fleeing Spiders filled the castle while The King mentally called for each of his guards to return to the gates and for them to be sealed. The castle darkened as the openings sealed them in at his order as the last of the already fled guards were accounted for inside before he turned around running his hand over his mouth.
Legolas, “Ada, what’s happening?”
His eyes met his Sons, turning his head, “Miss Tini is doing something, the butterflies are coming from her door.”
Legolas, “I thought she was locked in.”
“She is, they’re coming through the door.” Walking away as Legolas followed after to see for himself, dropping his jaw lower when he did. Exhaling Thranduil approached the door unlocking it and swinging the door open with a stern gaze watching as you stood on a chair with a poorly crafted paint brush apparently including a snippet of your hair, with a small plate of crushed blueberries in your open palm adding yet another butterfly to the wall over the green canopy you had somehow managed to paint.
Each stroke drew out the colors resembling a watercolor style you had intended making, his eyes searched the creations before looking at you again finally understanding Lindir’s inscription. Drawing in a breath as Legolas allowed a butterfly to land on his finger Thranduil cleared his throat, “Just what are you doing?”
You turned with a giggle at his growing dazed expression under his twitching eyebrow, “Proving a point, well two actually.”
“And those would be?”
“For one, in all the records the infamous Lady Luthien never was recording doing this.”
“And the second?”
“That you can trust me, should you ever choose to.” His brow raised as you smirked at him, “When you’re done investigating me that is.”
His eyes scanned over the wall at the intricately detailed portrait before looking at the guards standing inside inspecting the last of the butterflies coming from the painting leaving only the fading trees as the wall went back to normal, “Kindly have someone fetch art supplies for Miss Tini here before she coats the entire room with berries.” He turned to walk out after nodding his head at you, “Miss Tini,” but stopped after you spoke.
“I think I’m going to add you to the list of people who get to call me Tiny.”
“Excuse me?”
Your smirk returned as you said, “One thing you need to know about me, there’s a method to my madness. So you get to call me Tiny. Main point being you have no choice but to be nice to me then, not that you’re rude, past the whole imprisonment thing. But with your size if you go around yelling at me you’re going to have to say my name and if you’re yelling all they’re going to see is all of you yelling at little old me calling me Tiny.”
He couldn’t help but struggle against the smirk fighting onto his face as Legolas snorted and covered his mouth trying to hold in his chuckles before he lowered it and said, “That is a brilliant plan actually.”
You smiled larger at him through a giggle, “See, there’s a method.” Shifting your eyes back to the stunned King who promptly walked out after he said, “I’m not calling you Tiny.”
Giggling again you waited until he walked through the door to say, “Oh, you’ll come around Dew Drop, pleasant dreams.”
The doors shut behind him as his shoulders tensed hearing Legolas snort again repeating under his breath as the King eyed the stunned guards stuck between trying not to laugh and turning away with their mouths still hanging open. The King returned to his room closing the door exhaling and walking over to stretch out on his bed with a soft groan into the thick sheets as he heard Legolas’ muffled laughter break free next door then die as he shut his door.
Pt 2
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