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1kook · 3 years

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BORN SINNER III

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summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

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that-shamrock-vibe · 3 years

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Movie Review: Cinderella (Spoilers)

Disclaimer: I am posting this review the day after the movie airs on Amazon Prime, so if you haven't yet seen it don't read on until you do.

General Reaction:

It is slightly weird to think of another movie studio taking on one of the classic fairy-tales that isn't Disney, because, as I am sure is the case for a large portion of the mainstream audience, Disney have almost claimed fairytale adaptations as their own.

However, as identified, Cinderella, is a fairy tale and one created long before Disney came about. As such, other studios are allowed to put across their own interpretation of these classic stories that we have seen a lot of times adapted at this point.

That being said, we have seen many different adaptations of Cinderella at this point from the classis Disney Animation version and it's live-action counterpart, to modern-day reworkings like A Cinderella Story of the mid-noughties starring Hilary Duff.

It's quite an easy story to tell and adapt to a variety of different settings, and what this 2021 retelling does with the story blends the old-fashioned with the modern. Does that mean it is set apart from the others? Well in my opinion yes and no.

While this is a Sony movie, it plays a lot like a Disney Channel Original Movie. From the comedy to the settings to the costuming and the music, it plays like the best of those types of movies. I'm talking the High School Musical franchise and the Descendants franchise. It is by no means bad or corny, but it isn't even on the level of the 2016 live-action Cinderella.

While that version was pretty much a straightforward live-action version of the original animated version, the style of the movie outweighed the substance.

Here however, there is a great blend of both style and substance. The story takes the classic elements of the original Cinderella fairy tale but tries to inject a modern and feministic twist that the recent live-action Beauty and the Beast tried to do.

In terms of whether this version of Cinderella stands out in the crowd of Cinderella movies, I would say it does. Not only is the titular character race-bent and the setting she is in seemingly plays into that, but the reworking of the Fairy Godmother as the Fab G as well as giving the Stepmother a more humanised backstory allows for a more compelling take on a classic.

Cast:

Because this is just the one all-in review I'm not going to do an in-depth character analysis and instead group the characters as who were my favourites, who did a passable job, who was bad and who were for some reason just there.

Favourites:

I have a top 3/4 favourite characters in this movie. Idina Menzel's Stepmother Vivian, Billy Porter's Fab G, Minnie Driver's Queen Beatrice and additionally Beverly Knight's Queen Tatiana.

Idina Menzel was always going to be fantastic in this movie, but to see her portray what is traditionally the villain character in the movie as a sympathetic character as part of the movie's feminist agenda was an interesting twist. No cat for a start, I don't know if Lucifer was a part of the original fairy tale but of course in the Disney adaptations Lady Tremaine is always accompanied by her faithful feline, but also the fact that her backstory parallels Ella's current story and the fact Vivian was so willing to have Ella reject her passion to do what is expected of her just as was forced on her was actually great motivation.

In truth I have only ever seen Billy Porter in one other thing aside from this movie and that was American Horror Story: Apocalypse. I have never seen Pose though I have heard good things, but from what I understand, Billy Porter only really has one speed. However, as the character's name states, that speed is fabulous. I loved Fab G in this movie, the fairy godmother is usually one of my favourite characters in the movie and every interpretation I have seen has brought something different and memorable. If this version of Cinderella is remembered for anything it will be for this very modernised take on the Fairy Godmother, not only gender-bending and race-bending a traditionally white female character, but with Porter choosing to make the character non-binary and that outfit speaks for itself, Fab G was simply a fabulous character.

In both Disney adaptations, I have never heard mention or reference to Prince Charming having a living mother...or a dead one for that matter. So to not only have the Queen being in a chunk of this movie, but also having her own story branch tying into the feminist agenda running through the movie and being portrayed by Minnie Driver, I was in love with this character.

Pretty much similar to the Fab G, if you've seen Beverly Knight's one second in the trailers you've pretty much seen her in the movie. She contributes to Ella's story in the movie and only appears in the latter half of the movie in 2 maybe 3 scenes but she makes an impact because she's Beverly Knight. My only gripe with her is she does not sing in the movie, you have Beverly Knight with not even a solo in a group number?

Passable:

Unfortunately the star of the movie Camilla Cabello is just passable in this movie as Cinderella. She does have some humour about her and her singing is great despite maybe being autotuned because I know how she can sing, but she doesn't feel like Cinderella to me, it actually feels more like a version of what Emma Watson was doing with Belle in the live-action Beauty and the Beast rather than Cinderella but at least she tried.

As for Nicholas Galitzine, he's definitely more engaging as a modern-day Prince Charming, Robert is definitely more engaging a character than Ella unfortunately, which to be fair is still good as the 2015 Cinderella is the only other adaptation to really make the Prince interesting, but I can't quite put my finger on exactly which movie it is but there is another movie I have seen where the Prince Regent doesn't want to be king but the Princess does and has to fight for her right to be it...that's pretty much this story for them.

Also Pierce Brosnan as the King, despite jokingly singing towards the end, did a great job at being the archetype of old-fashioned values with his on-screen wife Minnie Driver's queen pushing him into a modern-day thinking.

Bad:

As for who's bad, I have to say it pains but the British comic relief characters really let the side down in this movie.

In the three mice defence, Romesh Ranganathan and James Acaster are somewhat funny but unnecessary. James Corden however is abismal in this movie. I get he produces it, but particularly after Cats I do not understand 1) Why he'd want to portray another CG animal or 2) Ever think that one shot of him changing back from human to mouse with his head on a mouse body was funny...it was terrifying.

Also this movie is supposedly a family-audience movie...so why include a crass joke of Corden's character talking about peeing out of his front tail?

Additionally to the three mice, Rob Beckett has a surprising role in this movie as a potential suitor for Vivian's daughters, but he simply portrays such a creepy, cringe-worthy character it's almost uncomfortable to watch.

New Additions:

So as well as the two queens and the British comic relief there is also the addition of Princess Gwen to the movie who is the sister of the Prince and the one who wants to be ruler. It's kind of the same story as Jasmine's in the live-action Aladdin as wanting to be Sultan but being a woman isn't taken seriously, however here it is treated more comedically as every time there is a serious moment with the King trying to force Robert to grow up and be King, she always tries to interject with "Would this be a bad time to tell you about an actual real reason why I would be a good ruler" and they make sense but she's always dismissed until the very end.

Then there's a town crier, who is also inserted as a musical number while he's reading his proclamations but as a rap. Honestly I don't know Doc Brown as an artist but I did happen to enjoy what he contributed.

Music:

Which brings us on nicely to the music of the movie as this is a musical and I usually break down the songs. Again this time I will be doing groupings of best to worse.

Honestly my favourite number is probably "Shining Star" mostly performed by Billy Porter with verses by Camilla Cabello and, unfortunately, James Corden.

I also enjoyed the two original songs of the movie, "Million to One" which is Cabello's "I Want" song of the movie and used a lot through the movie, and then also "Dream Girl" which is Idina's main other song but also sung by basically the women of the movie, it's Idina Menzel if you don't give her an original song it's an insult.

Idina's other song is a cover of "Material Girl" and honestly it is a lot of fun, Nicholas Galitzine's rendition of "Somebody to Love" was also fun and surprising as I did not think this guy could sing that well.

The group numbers were fun and well choreographed but they are also somewhat forgettable. The song at the ball of "Whatta Man/Seven Nation Army" was probably the most memorable but still just mediocre.

Recommendation:

So with all that said, would I recommend watching Sony's Cinderella? Honestly I would say it is worth at least one viewing, and I do recommend watching all the way through just to get the full experience. I do think it will do better as a streaming movie than it would have done as a theatrical release, but I cannot pinpoint a market for this movie.

I don't think this will go down as one of the great adaptations, but there are moments and aspects of the movie that sets it apart from the crowd.

Overall I rate this movie a 7/10, it's not as fantastic as I feel the trailers were making it out to be, but having seen the movie twice there are definitely elements of the movie I looked forward to watching the second time around.

So that's my review of Sony's Cinderella, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Movie Reviews as well as other posts.

#cinderella #cinderella 2021 #camilla cabello #nicholas galitzine #pierce brosnan #idina menzel #minnie driver #romesh ranganathan #james corden #james acaster #billy porter #rob beckett

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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

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Practically a Weasley Epilogue

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Little Kayda has finally finished her seven years at Hogwarts, much to the cheer and delight of her parents, Charlie and (Y/N). Her future is crawling near, if only her parents knew what it could possibly hold.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is mostly centered around Charlie and his girls, I will make that clear. The reader is there, and she’s important, but I wanted to highlight their daughters, as this is an Epilogue. I hope you all enjoy their three tornadoes angels as much as I do. Enjoy!

Part 1 … Part 1.5 … Part 2 … Part 3

The end of the school year finally came, leaving many Hogwarts students to come home for the summer holiday. For some, this was their first year at the school for young witches and wizards, eager to share their stories with their families. For others, it was their final trip from the platform, until they choose to have kids of their own to see off. Regardless, the reunion of the various families on the platform at Kings Cross was a warm one.

“Dad…” Kayda moaned, trying to wriggle herself from Charlie’s grip. No luck.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Charlie exclaimed, hugging his daughter tighter. “Missed your birthday, two weeks ago! Consider it a late birthday present.”

“I’m eighteen now, I don’t need to be coddled at the platform,” Kayda sighed, patting her dad’s back. After finally wriggling herself free, Kayda nodded at her friends passing by, snickering at her father’s bear hug. “You can hug me more at home.”

“I plan on it,” Charlie beamed. Coming from the other end of the platform, (Y/N) walked between two redheaded girls, identical in their freckled face, both pushing their respective carts. “I see your mum found your sisters. Why didn’t you sit with them?”

“I sat with them at the beginning of the year,” Kayda shrugged. “I offered for them to sit in my compartment, but they said they had their own friends now,” she looked up, noting the presence of her sisters and mother. “Hey, mum.”

“Kayda,” (Y/N) said, tears glistening her eyes. “I know you probably don’t want a hug right now,” Kayda gave her dad a pointed look. Charlie smirked, shrugging. “But know that I’m so proud of you.”

“What about us?” the twin wearing a Slytherin scarf retorted, eyes turned downward, almost sad.

“Yeah, aren’t you proud of me and Harper?” the other added.

“Ellie…” Charlie sighed. “You know we’re proud of you two, but Kay just finished her schooling. It’s a big deal.”

“Well we just finished our first year. Big deal all around!” Ellie exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Besides, Kayda didn’t get to do hardly any of the fun stuff we did.”

“Like what? Going into each other’s common rooms? Wearing the other’s uniforms?” Kayda laughed, mirroring her sister’s stance. “I know you two switched. Often, at that.”

“You two did what?” (Y/N) asked, glaring at her twin daughters. “Harper? Ellie?”

“Come on mum,” Ellie laughed. “You really think that we wouldn’t try it? Harper’s in Slytherin, I’m in Gryffindor. It was bound to happen.”

“Ellie!” Harper hissed. “I thought we weren’t going to tell mum and dad!”

“Did you ever get caught?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Harper admitted. “Well, I guess Kayda knew, but she’s our sister, so…”

“Nice,” Charlie said, lifting his hand up, ready to give his daughters high-fives. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, bringing it down.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) said, glaring at her husband. “I guess it’s not the end of the world. I should’ve known the two of you would’ve pulled something like that the second we heard you two weren’t in the same House.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” Harper said, her hands gripping her cart a bit tighter. “But on the bright side, I grew to like my House a bit better, even after everyone made fun of me being a Weasley!”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, noting the way her daughter’s blue eyes lit up. She had been worried about this very thing. Not every day a Weasley gets put into Slytherin House, is it? “How so?”

“Conrad has been hanging out with me in the common room and helping me study,” Harper said, smiling lightly. “He’s been keeping the bullies away too!”

“Conrad Lee? Barnaby’s son?” Charlie asked, crossing his arms. Harper nodded. “He’s a nice kid, coming from his parents it was bound to happen,” Charlie laughed, recalling the Magizoologist and his Curse-Breaker wife, close friends of his from his time at Hogwarts. “I figured he’d look out for you.”

“He only did that because Kayda asked him to do it,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t know how, seeing as they snog more than talk—”

“Ellie!” Kayda exclaimed, slapping her sister’s arm. Ellie winced for just a moment, fully prepared for the slap she received. “Shut it!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Kay,” (Y/N) laughed, the panic on Kayda’s face not fading. “Conrad’s a nice boy. His mum and dad raised him well,” she smiled, patting her daughter’s back. “You’ve always got off well with him whenever they’d come to visit. Playing around in the dirt and whatnot.”

“Isn’t he a year younger than you?” Charlie asked, eyes pointed at Kayda, crossing his arms.

“Don’t you and mum have like five years between the two of you?” Kayda retorted, mirroring his pose.

“She has a point, Charlie,” (Y/N) laughed. “Enough of this idle chatting! We have a portkey to make if we want to get back to the cottage in time,” She pushed the twin’s backs, pushing their carts forward.

“You just don’t want to be stuck chatting with the entire family,” Ellie yawned, slowing her pace.

“I talked with Harry and Ginny, James just got done with his second year,” (Y/N) scoffed. “Your father caught up with Bill and Percy with their girls, too. We’re seeing Fred and George for dinner, we’ll be chatting with them then.”

“I don’t buy it.”

The warm glow of the kitchen radiated throughout the cottage. After Charlie and (Y/N) received the news of their, rather unexpected twins, the two moved to the Romanian countryside. It was farther off from the sanctuary, so Charlie had to either Apparate or take his broom, usually he chose the latter, enjoying the quiet moments of the morning rolling through the valley from up high, wind in his hair.

“Dad, should I take the pie out of the oven?” Harper asked, staring at the light brown crust intently.

“No,” Charlie hummed, pushing his sleeves up. He continued chopping the onions. “Shut the oven door, Harpy.”

“Sorry,” Harper said, gently shutting the door. Her fingers traced over the handle for a brief moment. “Do you need any help?”

“Blimey, I thought you’d never ask,” Charlie laughed, tilting his head at the aprons hung on the wall. “Grab your apron, kiddo.”

“Mum’s soup recipe?” Harper asked, tying the red apron around her waist, enjoying the feeling. She always liked helping her father out in the kitchen, ever since she was young. Molly often noted how her knife skills outshone those of her father, bringing much pride to the girl.“I can cut the carrots—”

“No carrots,” Charlie said, sternly.

“Right, sorry dad,” Harper giggled. “I quite like the carrots in this soup though. Mum added them whenever you were out for work…”

“Well I’m here right now,” Charlie huffed, pushing the onions into the simmering pot on the stove. “You can chop the cabbage. Speaking of your mum, is she still helping your sister pack?”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, eyes focused on her knife. She hadn’t had much practice at school, only using the skills in Potions class. “Why are you letting her move?”

“She’s an adult,” Charlie shrugged, stirring the burbling pot. “She said that she got a job and plans on moving this summer to start it. Still hasn’t told us the job… but she said she’ll tell us tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to miss her?”

“Of course I am,” Charlie said, washing his hands. “You, on the other hand, aren’t allowed to move out. Ever.”

“Dad!” Harper giggled. “I don’t want to move anyway. I missed the dragons terribly enough when I was at school.”

“The dragons missed you too. Well, I can only imagine. Can’t speak dragon. Harriet seemed rather glum, though,” Charlie clicked, drying his hands off with a towel. “Wait until third year,” Charlie mused, crossing his arms. “Care of Magical Creatures is going to blow your mind, kiddo.”

Charlie loved all of his daughters equally, so he said, but the connection he had with Harper was undeniable. While Kayda took much after her uncles—to Charlie’s dismay—and Ellie took after her mum—to an extent, the lip on that girl was unquestionably a Weasley trait—Harper took most after Charlie. She adored creatures, dragons especially. He would take her to the sanctuary whenever she asked, from a distance, per (Y/N)’s request. She was soft-spoken, hardly the one to lead her siblings, but her heart was bigger than her mouth.

“I can’t wait!”

“Can’t wait for what?” Ellie asked, throwing herself onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“To learn something I’m genuinely interested in,” Harper said, finishing her cabbage. She silently looked at Charlie, who nodded. “I mean, I like Charms and Potions, but I have a feeling Care of Magical Creatures is going to be a good one.”

“Well, I like Herbology—”

“You like Professor Longbottom’s face,” Harper snickered, pushing the cabbage into the pot.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the Herbology type, Eleanor,” Kayda smiled, walking into the kitchen. “Smells good, dad.”

“Shove it! Both of you!” Ellie exclaimed, her face growing pink. She tapped her nails against the counter. “I-I just think he’s a good teacher, that’s all.”

“He’s married you ninny,” Kayda said, flicking Ellie’s forehead. “Or did you not pay attention to the way he stares so sappily at the Potions Professor?”

“Wait, that’s his wife?” Ellie asked, rubbing her now red forehead. “They don’t have the same last name, though!”

“It’d be confusing to have two Professor Longbottom’s, wouldn’t it?” Kayda laughed. “She uses her maiden name for teaching at school. Her last name’s still Longbottom, though.”

“How do you know?” Ellie spat, voice dripping with venom.

“I took her N.E.W.Ts level class. Hardly a big class,” Kayda shrugged. “Always willing to chat with us, especially if we’ve done well in lesson. You never would’ve stood a chance, you’re nearly twelve.”

“I know,” Ellie huffed, the realization dawning upon her.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) said, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, everyone’s here. It’s been a while since the kitchen was this full…”

“Flower, don’t start crying again,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his wife. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying.”

“You two are a bunch of saps,” Kayda laughed, noting her parent’s glistening eyes.

“Yet, you came from this bunch of saps,” Charlie laughed, kissing (Y/N)’s temple. “Think about that.”

“I try not to think too deeply about it,” Kayda said, rolling her eyes, fighting back a grin. She missed her parents, no matter how disgusting their lovey-dovey nature may be. “What time are Fred and George coming?”

“Any minute now,” (Y/N) said, glancing at the clock. “Fred said they’d Floo here by six—”

“Did someone say my name?” A voice bellowed from the living room.

Kayda’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading to her face. “Uncle Fred!”

“Hey there, partner,” Fred winked, pulling his niece into a side hug. “Hi (Y/N). Hi Charlie.”

“Glad to see you still don’t pick favorites,” Charlie smiled, nodding at his brother.

“We could never, Charlie. Just because we like our little Kay-Kay better than the two of you doesn’t mean we pick favorites,” George said, entering the conversation. “Honestly, you’d think our brother would know us better.”

“No, not at all,” (Y/N) laughed. “Where’s Angelina? Or the kids?”

“Get this,” Fred moved his voice to a small whisper. “Dragon pox, the both of them.”

“Fred’s lying,” George laughed. “Mine’s at his mum’s this week,” he shrugged.

“You’re right,” Fred sighed, taking off his bright orange jacket. “Angelina wanted to spend more time with our boy now that he’s home from his first year, much like Harper and Ellie. Nearly bit my head off when I told her I was coming here tonight instead.”

“They’ll all be sorely missed,” (Y/N) hummed, glancing at the large pot on the stove. “Though, had you two told me, I wouldn’t have made so much soup—”

“You didn’t make the soup, dad did!” Ellie pointed.

“And I helped!” Harper added, crossing her arms.

“You should’ve never had more kids, mum,” Kayda laughed. “Little snitches, the both of them.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” Fred agreed, placing his arm around Kayda’s shoulder. “One and done. Angelina and I listened to it. George had no choice, poor girl broke it off with him after their little one was born—”

“Honestly, Fred? Pipe down,” George said, growing annoyed. George never liked talking about his ex-girlfriend much. They had dated for a few years before she became pregnant, but they split a year after their son was born.

“Please,” (Y/N) scoffed, trying to diffuse the situation. “You two were beyond thrilled when you found out that Charlie and I were having twins!”

“We thought you’d name them after us!” George exclaimed, falling wistfully onto a dining chair. “But then you had more girls, what a waste of perfectly good names!”

“Technically they did,” Ellie said, groaning. “I’ve hated my middle name as long as I can remember.”

“I quite like mine…” Harper said, voice growing small.

“Your name isn’t ‘Eleanor Frederica’, Harper. All my friends have normal middle names, but no,” Ellie pointed at Charlie and (Y/N). “You had to make my life hard!”

“Ellie,” (Y/N) sighed. “Middle names aren’t the end of the world. Be happy you’re named after two of the coolest people on this planet.”

“Gross,” Ellie groaned again. “If you want to name me after someone cool, take a look at James! He has a cool name! James Sirius Potter, even the sound of it makes people sigh!”

“Ellie, we love your Aunt Gin,” Charlie said, glancing down, “but we’ve never been in real favor of their children’s names. A bit heavy handed, honestly.”

“When she told us the name of little Al, we nearly passed out,” George nodded. “Next year’s going to be a fun one for him, starting school with a namesake like that.”

“Having Frederica and Georgina is the least of your worries,” Fred laughed. “At least you,” he pointed at Ellie, “you got the better of the two.”

“I prefer Harper’s name,” George quipped, “sounds cooler, more hip.”

“Can we stop talking about my children’s names?” (Y/N) said, finally growing tired of the arguing. “Ellie, sweetheart, your name is fine. Fred, George, both of the twins names are equally sweet, be grateful that Charlie agreed with the idea.”

“It’s true,” Charlie hummed. “I wanted more dragon-related names…”

“I could’ve had a dragon name?!” Harper practically screamed, forcing her voice towards her parents. “Why does Kayda get one?”

“People don’t mispronounce your name,” Kayda retorted. “Never get ‘Kayla’ Weasley? Do you?”

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) groaned. “I wanted to have a normal family dinner, now my daughters are screaming bloody murder about their names—”

“Sounds like a normal Weasley dinner if I’ve ever seen one,” Charlie said, ignoring the bickering, the loudest coming from his three daughters. “Love, you knew full well what you got yourself into almost twenty years ago.”

“Hardly gave me a moment to think about it, didn’t you?” (Y/N) smiled, glancing up at her husband. “Pulled the rug out from beneath me that day.”

“Like you weren’t expecting it,” Charlie smirked. “I told you almost a year in that I wanted to marry you. Besides, you said yes.”

“I did. I don’t regret it,” (Y/N) sighed, glancing at her beautiful daughters, now arguing with their lively uncles. “How could I regret this?”

“The soup was great Charlie,” (Y/N) said, dabbing a napkin on her lip. “Harper, you did a great job helping.”

“Thanks, mum,” Harper smiled, feeling the pride well in her chest.

“Fred? George? You two have been awfully quiet,” Charlie said, noting his brother’s unlikely silence, “what’s up?”

“Well…”

“Actually…”

The twins looked to Kayda, who still had a spoon in her mouth. All of the Weasley’s eyes fell to her, watching as she fumbled with the silverware.

“Oh,” Kayda said, fumbling with her hands. “Do you think…?” She looked to her uncles, as if for permission. Fred nodded, George merely winking. “Well, I suppose,” she stood, seated at the foot of the table. “So, I’ve accepted a job—”

“We know,” Ellie sighed, twirling her spoon against the table. “You’ve only been talking about it the last month of school…”

“Eleanor,” Charlie hissed, eyeing his daughter. “Let your sister speak.

“Sorry,” Ellie lied. She hardly was sorry about anything.

“Anyway,” Kayda said, scowling at her younger sister for a moment. “So you know Zonko’s, in Hogsmeade? I’ve accepted a management position there—well, not at Zonko’s, I wouldn’t work there,” Kayda paused, flushing over her words. “I mean, I wouldn’t not work there, but I’ve been working at Fred and George’s place the last few summers and holiday breaks, a-and they’ve offered to buy out Zonko’s and—”

“Spit it out!” Ellie cut Kayda off again, growing more annoyed.

“Alright!” Kayda exclaimed, slamming her hands onto the table. “Fred and George are opening a branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, in the old Zonko’s shop, and they’ve asked me to be the manager, want me to run it.”

“Kayda, that’s wonderful!” (Y/N) said, clasping her hands together. She looked to her brother in-laws. “You’ve always wanted to buy out Zonko’s, why now?”

“Well, we finally have our little prodigy out of school,” Fred looked to (Y/N). “Seeing as you lot wouldn’t let her drop out early, much like her successful uncles—”

“Who turned out to be quite the entrepreneurs despite it all…” George added.

“I wasn’t going to drop out, mum,” Kayda said, assuring her mother. “It seemed like a good time, me fresh out of school, ready to take it on.”

“So you’re running it on your own?” Charlie asked, eyeing his daughter down, a bit of hesitation in his voice. “All by yourself?”

“We’re going to let her do as much as she wants on her own, but we’re always a call away,” George said, fiddling with his spoon. “She’s already come up with at least a hundred and ten new ideas for products and marketing—”

“All based on what a student is really looking for outta jokes and tricks these days,” Fred said, cracking his knuckles. “Gotta keep the products young and hip as we can, what better way than insight and perspective from a more recent former student? Considering the market is loads of Hogwarts students on their weekends off?”

“I suppose…” Charlie mumbled, looking in his hands. “Are you going to be living on your own?”

“Dad, I’m eighteen, I think I can manage on my own, especially in Hogsmeade. I found a little apartment to lease, it’s near the shop.”

“I’m sure Conrad’s going to be moving in after next year anyway…” Harper mumbled from her mother’s side, glancing at her half-full bowl of soup. She didn’t exactly have the appetite for it, all things considered.

“He’s thinking about it,” Kayda added. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Nope,” Charlie stood up from the table, pushing his chair back. “Nope, not happening. Absolutely not.”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) sighed, pressing her hand against her husband’s forearm, her fingers tracing a recent burn.

“Nope, not happening until I sit down with the Lee’s,” Charlie said, pacing lightly. “Maybe take Conrad down to the sanctuary…”

“Dad!” Kayda cried. “My boyfriend doesn’t need an interrogation!”

“Boyfriend?!”

“This is getting good,” Fred said, leaning into his brother’s good ear.

“Way better than what mum used to spout, Charlie’s a spittin’ image of her I reckon,” George added, leaning back in his chair, noting how red Charlie’s face was turning. The father and daughter continued to shout, much to (Y/N)’s dismay. Her head was in her hands, sighing loudly.

“See, mum? This is what happens when you let your daughter run wild with a Slytherin,” Ellie said, reaching over the long table to gain her mother’s attention. “Dad’s gone mental.”

“I’m a Slytherin!” Harper added, her cheeks growing pink. “What does that say about me?”

“You know I love you, Harper,” Ellie sighed, looking at her twin. “But Slytherin stinks. Your common room isn’t even all that neat, green is such a boring color and your Quidditch team sucks. Besides, a Weasley in Slytherin? How absurd! Half the Great Hall nearly lost their lunch at the sight!”

“Hey!”

It wasn’t long before the entire table was up in a roaring thunder, the youngest Weasley twins were bickering—like always— Kayda and Charlie were near a dueling stance over some boy, and the eldest twins just sat back and laughed at the continued horror. (Y/N) sat idly by, truly ignorant to her wishes of a functioning family unit. How long had she waited for a moment like this? Her family back together? Surely she didn’t expect her eldest and her husband going almost as far as a duel, she also didn’t expect her youngest daring to speak the few swears she picked up at school, either.

But, deep down, (Y/N) knew this was her ideal life, the one she had dreamed of years ago. A hearty family, filled with enough personality to go around thrice the time as normal. Her daughters were intelligent, bright and full of spunk, her in-laws were closer to her than blood would allow and her husband… Godric, her husband was more than she could’ve dreamed, attentive, loving and protective of their family—even if it was a sore subject in the moment, considering the environment. (Y/N) knew that the dream life she had planned was far from her reality, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. After all,

She was a Weasley.

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#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #harry potter #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley imagine

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alexajanecollins · 3 years

Text

Mixed family, Mixed feelings - Part 4

Without the kids this time! Here you can find: Part 1 and Part 2 and Part 3 💙

Weeks had passed since you told Ben everything about the calls you had been receiving from Lucas’ school about the boy getting in trouble more and more often. Lucas had promised Ben he was going to behave and act better, and he was very truth to his words. You hadn’t received any calls anymore, the school only calling Ben for the minor things such as the amount of times Lucas had forgotten any books at home or didn’t do his homework.

It wasn’t the usual Wednesday evening but the middle of the week without the children at the house. Ben was invited to a gala/ award event, meaning he asked you to be his plus one and the children were sent away for the night. You had gotten so used to having Lucy and/or Lucas around that it felt very weird to not be with them for a moment.

Lucas was spending the night at Maxims. His mother and you getting along very well, the boys practically always together. The both boys being able to drive their bikes to school the next day. Lucy on the other hand was spending the night at Bens parents. Lucy loved being at their place, Bens mother always treating her with the many things you deny her time after time. But that’s what grandparents are for right? You knew, and for sure didn’t mind.

“How do you feel about being without Lucy?” Your best friend asked, chances are your best friend is a professional make-up artist who gladly said yes when you asked her to do your make up for the event. “Don’t start me on this. It’s like a piece of me is missing.” You said with a bit of laughter, closing your eyes for a second as she worked on the eye look.

“I can imagine, like, you and Lucy are like always together.” She smiled as you nodded. “My little princess, I just can’t live without her anymore.” You added looking at yourself in the mirror for a second. “Wing or not?” Your friend asked as you thought about the right answer. “Wing sounds good.” You nodded looking at your friend in the mirror, a nod coming from her as she finished your make up after a while.

“Our ride is here in 30 mins.” Ben said while walking inside of the room, his dressed shirt still unbuttoned as his tie was hanging loosely around his neck as well. “Can you manage to be ready on time?” He asked and your friend laughed for a second. “My job is done here.” She smiled while she started to pack all the items she had used before. “You still need to help me with my dress.” You said while getting up from your seat.

“I think she is referring to you” Ben said buttoning up his shirt after he tucked it into his trousers. “Yes, I am.” You smiled with a nod. “The dress is in the bedroom. I am sure you will love it as much as I do.” You added and your friend smiled walking towards the bedroom excited to see your outfit for the evening. “Well don’t you look handsome.” You smiled moving the tie under Bens shirt collar, a smile on his face as he realised you started tying it as well.

“Thank you.” He smiled, his hands resting on your waist as you tapped his chest when finished with the tie. “Now go change, we can’t be late.” He said and you nodded, a quick peck on his lips before you rushed towards the bedroom. “Gross.” Ben laughed to himself wiping away the bits of lip gloss he now had on his lips thanks to your kiss.

“Someone is going to steal the show for sure.” Your friend smiled as she sat down on the bed, a big smile on your face as you entered the bedroom. “Not what I want to achieve but maybe.” You laughed shaking your head. “Let’s get it on, before he really gets annoyed for being too late.” You said and your friend nodded helping you with the dress and your heels.

“Thank you again for helping me with everything for this evening.” You said walking down the stairs together. “Pleasure doing business with you.” She laughed while putting on her sneakers at the door. “Always a pleasure.” You added and she nodded, quickly giving you a hug before she shouted a goodbye to Ben who friendly replied before she left.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded. The both of you leaving the house, your ride organised by the event waiting for the both of you outside. “You know what’s really sad about this evening?” You asked, holding Bens hand in yours looking outside the window as the car left the house. “What is?” He asked surprised for a minute. “That we don’t have this evening for just us.” You smiled, Ben finally understanding what you were referring to.

“I am sure we can arrange a childless evening more often if that is what you desire.” He smiled moving your hair behind your shoulder, his lips attached to your neck pretty soon after. “That actually sounds like such a good idea.” You smiled squeezing his hand for a second as he placed some soft kisses on your skin. “Okay stop this now, before I ask the driver to turn around and bring us home.” You said pushing him away from you, Bens laughter filling the car as he knew exactly where your soft spots were.

After a while the car dropped both of you off at the venue, Ben leading you inside greeting the people and stopping to chat with some others time after time. You smiled as you reached your table for the evening, your company of the evening surprisingly some people you knew already. “Thank god they assigned us together.” Masons wife smiled and you nodded while taking a seat. “I wouldn’t survive this evening without being seated with someone I know.” You said, and the both of you laughed for a second.

“Would you mind taking a picture of us?” You asked her and she smiled taking your phone. “Lucy would have loved this.” You said tapping Bens leg to catch his attention for a second as he was talking with Mason. “What?” He asked but smiling as he saw what you wanted, a couple of pictures quickly taken as the both of you posed for them

The evening filled with speeches and prizes collected by the people who earned them. “Didn’t know you even were in for a prize tonight.” You said as Ben took a seat again after giving a speech to thank some people, his second men’s coach of the year price. “You don’t always have to know everything.” He smiled kissing your cheek for a second.

The event comes to an end after a while. Most people already heading towards the other venue close by for the afterparty. “Please tell me you are joining to the after party, right?” Mason asked and Ben looked at you for a second for an answer and you nodded. The evening filled with a lot of dancing, laughter, serious conversations and enough alcoholic drinks.

“I don’t know who will be the proudest.” You said leaning your back against the front door as the both of you arrived back home. “Me, Lucy or Lucas.” You said taking off your heels and dropping them at the door, your feet already aching from wearing them the whole evening. “Lucas will be like – wow nice – and Lucy will be like – WOW NICE.” Ben said saying the first words very uninterested while he said the last in a very exciting tone, just like Lucy would say it.

“What about me?” You asked walking up the stairs backwards, very slow as your eyes focused on him since he followed. “How would I react?” You asked, Bens tie already untied and hanging around his neck as he started unbuttoning his shirt with a smile on his face. “I think you would be all over me for the night, extremely proud, wanting to show me just how proud you are.” He smirked as your eyes widened with his words, a giggle escaping as you turned around and rushed to the bedroom. “How sure are you about that?” You asked in a teasing way, Ben quickly rushing after you.

“Very sure.” He smiled moving his one arm around your waist, the tie thrown somewhere in the room. You giggled the minute he lays the both of you down on the bed in one swift movement. “Are you sure? Like you haven’t been as fit since you became the coach. And this was a long evening.” You said, your fingers running through his hair as you laughed. The boy moving to lay on top of you, his hands squeezing your waist.

“I can show you just how fit I still am.” He smiled; his lips pretty soon attached to your neck. The soft spot he just knew made you feel weak all the time, your hands soon moved to remove his shirt. “We need to arrange these childless evenings more often.” You whispered, both of you agreeing as the night ended in the both of you exploring each other’s bodies all over again.

tags: @ellarrose @rosie7703 @shewritesfootie @cam-blog98 @riccivrdo @chilly-me-softly @bbychilly @bichotaa @champagne-coys @pulisic10 @furiouscaseofastudent @quacksonlover81 @kingkepa

#ben chilwell #new series #part 4 #family ben #dad ben

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telehxhtrash · 3 years

Note

How important do you think religious imagery and themes will be in the future of HxH? I know you've pointed it out with Kurapika and mentioned some stuff in that last ask, but now I'm super curious. I might be misremembering, but wasn't the testing gate at the Zoldyck mansion also called "the gate to hell"?

I think religious imagery has always been important in HxH! There are a lot of things that are rooted in religious imagery, off the top of my head there’s Kurapika with a lot of his religious symbolism, there’s also Ging that encompasses buddhist philosophy, obviously Chrollo Lucilfer and his 12 apostles followers, Hisoka posing as the “Judas”, I think I read that Chimera Ant Arc’s story was based on something religious but I honestly can’t remember where I read this so take this with a grain of salt, there’s the whole Gon being reborn and saved by Alluka, Togashi also represented the Royal Guards on one of the volume covers using religious imagery (i can’t find the post i’m sorry!!) and the most important one to me so far is the entire Succession War arc that’s just religious symbolism galore, from Morena to Tserriednich to the general plot itself.

I promise I’ll make a post on this because I really really want to go over this, but I think religious imagery and themes are gonna be extra important this arc. I’m pretty sure the plot of succession war follows so closely St Brendan’s story that it’s possible to foreshadow the plot and outcome of the arc based solely on the religious imagery Togashi used. I don’t have the brainpower to go into detail rn, but if everything goes to plan, I should be able to finish writing it soon. But based on a few things, I think religious themes will help us predict the plot of succession war!!

I think religious imagery and themes in HxH are meant to sort of highlight the narrative of the story : healing, second chances, growth, rebirth. I think Togashi is picking religious symbolism to sort of elevate those themes and emphasize them if that makes sense? Religious imagery is usually used in HxH as a way to highlight the positive message of the narrative. It’s sort of like a second layer to emphasize the message of the story to me. Idk if that makes a lot of sense HAHA but yeah that + it’s also there to sort of be a basis for the plot of the current arc. But once again, if my theory on Kurapika’s fate is right (i promise ill write the post cuz i probably dont make a lot of sense rn), then the symbolism would be here to highlight the narrative of rebirth.

As for the testing gates, yes!! The guide says the gates are also called “the Gates to Hades”, and in japanese, 黄泉への扉, “yomi he no tobira”, “the gate to Yomi”. In Japanese culture, from my quick wikipedia search, Yomi is the land of the dead. It’s not Heaven, it’s not Hell, it’s the Underworld. This is where the deads go, and unlike Hell, they aren’t punished for their past sins, they just.... keep on rotting there forever. It’s the place where you go after you die no matter your past actions. The deads keep on living a gloomy and sad existence forever. So it’s not really religious imagery, but sort of cultural imagery? Kind of like Tanabata! I think it was meant to highlight that the place Killua is going back to is a dark terrible place, where if he stays, he’ll live a meaningless, gloomy, empty and aimless life forever. This denomination is meant to enhance the idea that the Zoldyck Mansion is a terrible place where Killua would keep on rotting forever.

I’m not too knowledgeable on this since literally all I’m saying about Yomi comes from a 10min google search but it’s interesting to note that this idea of reunification is also present in Yomi’s lore, since in legend, the god Izanagi undertook a journey to Yomi in hopes of retrieving the goddess Izanami that was rotting there. So culturally speaking, when Togashi compares the Zoldyck Mansion to Yomi, he also redirects japanese readers to this lore and this idea of someone undertaking a journey to bring someone else back from there, just like what Gon is doing!

Also, I’m not good at Greek mythology at all, so this is also the result of my googling skills once again, but it’s worth mentioning that Yomi is oftentimes translated as Hades, and Viz used this translation.

So this also takes us to Greek mythology, where there’s also a similar story involving Hades and a journey to the underworld... Orpheus and Eurydice’s story. I’ll let you read on the details if you’re unfamiliar with it, but basically, Orpheus took at trip to the underworld to save his wife Eurydice. Anyone would’ve died doing so, but Orpheus is protected by the Gods and managed to make it through various life-threatening situations. So while Orpheus didn’t manage to save Eurydice, there are still some elements that are similar to Gon and Killua’s situation in their story. It’s also funny to note that the greek underworld is kept by a three headed dog, Cerberus, just like the Zoldyck Mansion is protected by Mike, a huge dog, and there are also 2 other dogs guarding the Mansion. (seen on chapter 323)

And I love that this is intertwined with the Tanabata legend as well, the reunification of lovers.

So I’d say when it comes to the testing gates, Togashi played with japanese lore and greek mythology to reinforce the idea of taking a journey to save someone and being reunited after a rough journey. He managed to weave together Greek lore with the notion of the Underworld and Orpheus & Eurydice’s story and Japanese lore with Izanagi’s journey to save Izanami from Yomi and finally Tanabata, the legend of two lovers reunited by birds (Canary :3) after being separated.

I got kind of carried away but I guess my point is that Togashi loves to play with cultural and religious references to bring a second layer and emphasize his narrative, which is something that I greatly admire!!

Thank you so much for this ask I learned a lot about Japanese and Greek lore, so this was fun !! This was a bit messy so I’m thinking of maybe properly writing a post on the lores of the testing gates and how they intertwine because this is very interesting. I had no idea this was a thing until you sent me this ask and I had to look at Japanese scans!! So thank you!! I’ll definitely write my post on Kurapika & religious imagery, and I might put together this post on Yomi, the Unwerworld and Tanabata. Ty for this ask I hope i replied to your question!

#thoughts #my meta #meta #im tagging this as meta until i write an actual post

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shestrying2write · 4 years

Text

Blank Pages pt 1

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: My timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.

Word Count: 2,305

Author’s note: it’s kind of angsty? I love Ivar and I love suffering so here you go. I will probably write a second part, just because I don’t want this part to be too long. Please let me know what you guys think! I also didn’t edit it, so if you see any mistakes let me know.

Summary: Ivar must choose between the love of the man who abandoned him and the love of a woman he promised to never abandon.

Masterlist

Pt 2 // Pt 3

“What do you mean you’re leaving?!” A hurt Y/N shouted through tears as she stared at her best friend of years and recent lover.

Ivar stared back, with his impatient blue eyes. “I’m going with my father Y/N” he repeated again. “Which part confused you?” His condescending tone, a mask to hide that he was truly sad to be leaving her. Y/N grabbed the first thing on her dresser, a brush, and threw it...hard. Ivar skillfully dodged it. “That almost hit me woman” he growled.

“Yes. That was the point Ivar. Better I kill you than the saxons, or worse, your own father” She couldn’t believe her ears. After years of friendship, they finally had the courage to admit they had more than friendly feelings toward each other. Then came Ragnar and Ivar ran to him, like a dog whose long lost owner came back.

“No one is going to kill me Y/N.” Ivar took a deep breath to calm himself then chuckled at seeing her red face. She cared. He could tell that she truly cared for him and he didn’t know why. She was better off without him, a cripple, bringing her down. He saw the way people looked at them together, he heard the whispers. “Except perhaps for you” he tried joking to ease her anger. It worked, slightly. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him, dropping to her knees in front of him, to be more at eye level as he sat on her bed.

“I’m scared of losing you. I just found you. We just found each other” she whispered, her hand resting on his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch and smiled, his eyes closing.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’ll come back to you...Eventually” his words brought her no comfort. She knew she couldn’t just sit around and hope that he was alive and well. So she did the one thing she promised herself she’d never do to anyone. She gave him an impossible choice, in the hopes of convincing him to stay.

“Then you’ll lose me” she stated coldly as she removed her hand. Ivar’s eyes opened wide as he looked at her, waiting for further explanation.

“Wh-What do you mean?” He mumbled, his hands trying to seek out hers.

“If you go with your father, I will not wait for you Ivar. Stay with me or lose me” she couldn’t look into his blue eyes without tears threatening to run down her face. Though as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop them. She slowly inched closer to him, her lips a centimeter from his. “Please Ivar. Choose me, choose happiness, stay with me, marry me” her voice broke on her last words as she pleaded with him. He leaned in and closed the gap between their faces, pressing his lips against hers as hard as he could. Trying to memorize every inch of her lips, the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the way she whimpered softly when he bit her lip and the way her eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, begging for more. Her eyes were filled with hope, and it broke his heart that he now had to break hers.

“I can’t” he whispered almost inaudible, but by the look on her face, he knew she heard him. She stood up and wiped her eyes. “Please understand. I have to do this. I have to prove myself” he pleaded, but she was in no mood to hear him anymore.

“Get out” she said through gritted teeth

“Please understand Y/N…” she didn’t give him a chance to finish. She wanted nothing more than to cry and throw things. Ivar knew he needed to do this. He needed to prove that he was a Viking and that he deserved the love of someone like her.

“I SAID. GET. OUT!” He had never heard her so angry, and when he tried to reach out to her she yanked her arm away and walked to the other side of the room. “Please just — just go Ivar” she was hurt and he could see that. He had hurt the one person who had loved him as much as he loved her for someone who abandoned him and there was no turning back.

Before he dragged himself out he muttered his last words to her “I really do love you. I hope you will be at the docks when I return and I truly hope you will come see me off” she didn’t respond, she didn’t even look in his direction, but he could hear her soft sobs. With that, he left.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

He looked onto the docks, there was his mother and other people he didn’t care for. He had truly hoped and expected that Y/N would show up to say goodbye, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. Their argument had been two days ago and he hadn’t seen her since. He gave a letter to one of his thralls to give to Y/N. He had stayed up all night thinking about what to write and what to say to make it better. But he knew nothing would change what was going to happen. It was all in the hands of the gods now.

Ivar left and the thrall arrived at Y/N’s door. She gave her the letter and was dismissed back to Aslaug. Y/N’s eyes were red and puffy, she hadn’t stopped crying since Ivar had left. She felt destroyed. When she opened the letter there were only ten words on it.

“Y/N,

I love you and I’m sorry.

Forever yours,

Ivar”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Her days felt lonely and she tried to keep them busy by visiting Queen Aslaug. She was just as torn as Y/N and together they found comfort in each other. Aslaug hadn’t always been a fan of Y/N because she always suspected that she might be using her son, and she constantly waited for the other foot to drop, but it never did. Then she felt like Y/N was stealing Ivar from his mother, but seeing her all mopey now, she realized they were the same. They both loved Ivar and wanted nothing but his return. What Aslaug didn’t know was that Y/N had already packed her belongings and was simply trying to find the courage to leave.

She knew she told Ivar that she wouldn’t wait for him, but she wanted to. She didn’t want to leave him, she loved him, more than she had ever loved anyone else. She had turned down foreign suitors when they had asked for her hand, and denied the advances of most men if Ivar hadn’t liked them. Of course now she knew why he didn’t like most men, he was jealous. The thought that he couldn’t possibly love her as much as he claimed if he left her so easily always rattled in her mind and she hated it. Of course she understood that he had always felt like he had to prove himself a warrior, a true viking, but she wished that her seeing him that way would have been enough.

Once Aslaug had woken up screaming and crying of Ivar’s death, Y/N knew there was nothing tying her to Kattegat. Aslaug was never wrong, her dreams, her premonitions, always being clear and true. Y/N comforted Aslaug as best as she could and one night while Aslaug was asleep, she had slipped a letter under her pillow explaining that she had to leave and that she was sorry and that she looked forward to seeing Ivar again when it was her time to go and eat with the gods.

She had left most of her belongings in her home, not wanting to carry more than she needed. Her desk covered in crumbled pieces of parchment, all started with varying versions of ‘Dear Ivar,’ but not much else. She could never bring herself to write much after his name because she found herself crying or throwing things. The final letter she wrote had the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ crossed out before they too were tossed aside.

She loaded her cart with some dresses that Ivar had the best seamstress in Kattegat make for her, a dagger he had gifted her and enough food and water to last her a week. She let one last tear fall from her eyes as she said goodbye to her childhood home forever.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“A great army. At my command. Imagine it brothers” Ivar had been on one of his rants again. His brothers had, had enough. Sigurd with his mockery began pestering Ivar. And as always Ubbe made an attempt to settle their quarrels while Hvitserk just sat there eating.

Bjorn having had enough just slammed his fist on the table, making all the brothers turn their attention to him, “we won’t succeed in avenging our father if we cannot get Earl Erik to agree to join us” with a frustrated gruff he pushed his plate far away from him.

Ivar rolled his eyes “Brother please, with all the men and women coming to help us, we have more than enough to succeed” biting another piece of meat.

Bjorn chuckled “You are naive brother, if you believe your words. Earl Erik has enough men and women at his disposal that he would nearly double our current army. They say his current wife is a great shieldmaiden who helped him conquer many villages. We want them as an ally, we want their loyalty. He has agreed to hear me out. We will place nice” he looked directly at Ivar and then Sigurd “We will make him feel welcomed and we will not waste his time with your pointless pissing contests. Are we clear?”

Both brothers just gave a grunt of agreement and said nothing else. “I’ve heard she is as beautiful as she is terrifying in battle” Ubbe jumped in.

Hvitserk nodded “They say she seduced her first husband and then murdered him for his army and now she’s slowly conquered Norway with her new husband. She’s giving king Herald a run for his money” he laughed as he continued eating.

“A woman that powerful? I’m sure they greatly exaggerate. She’s probably not even real. I’m sure it’s all stories spread by Earl Erik’s own people.” Ivar grumbled.

“Well whatever the case. We will pose our arguments and try to convince him to help. I expect you all on your best behaviors” as Bjorn finished his sentence a thrall rushed in slightly out of breath.

With very little patience Ivar yelled “Spit it out already!” The poor thrall jumped and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Earl Erik’s boats are on the horizon. He will be here before nightfall” She quickly exited as to not anger the brothers any further.

Bjorn smiled and sent the slaves to prepare for the festivities that would be occurring as soon as Earl Erik arrived. “Let the preparations begin.” He stood up and excused himself to get ready.

“I bet his wife won’t even show up with him” Ivar mockingly laughed. “And if she does I’m sure she is as average as they get.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“Earl Erik!” Bjorn held his arms out “Welcome to Kattegat. I hope your journey went well”

Earl Erik towered slightly over Bjorn as he walked over. “Prince Bjorn. Long time, no see” They hugged and Erik turned to the rest of Bjorn’s brothers as he was introduced to them. They bowed heads to each other and everything seemed to be flowing nicely as they walked to the great hall together.

Once they were there and everyone had a drink in hand Ivar opened his mouth. “So Earl. Where is this wife we’ve been hearing so much about?” Ubbe gave him a warning look but Ivar didn’t care “Was she too sick to travel perhaps?” Bjorn heard his tone and knew exactly what Ivar was insinuating.

Earl Erik just chuckled and finished his drink. “She traveled with me. But said she did not want to be introduced to Ragnar’s sons right after a long trip. She told me to go ahead and she and our son would catch up later.” He knew what Ivar implied. Erik wasn’t stupid he knew exactly what Ivar meant to imply. It didn’t go past Erik that he was much older than they were and his once pretty looks were overtaken by white hairs in his red beard and scars on his cheeks from years of battle. “I’m sure you all will enjoy her company. Just not too much I hope” he teased his old friend Bjorn with an elbow to his side. Ivar just nodded and continued drinking, saying nothing else.

After several rounds and toasts, the doors opened once again, and there stood two women, one holding a bundled up baby and behind her a woman with her face hidden by a cloak. Erik’s face broke into the biggest smile he had since arriving and the brothers took notice. “That must be your wife” Ivar half chuckled, staring at the lackluster blonde woman in raggedy clothes with spots across her nose, holding the baby. He knew it, a woman, nothing special or grand about her. What Ivar wasn’t expecting was for Erik to walk right past her and lean down to the smaller woman in the cloak. His hands were on either side of her face as he pulled her in for a kiss, making her hood fall. He turned his attention to the crowd “Everyone. Please, meet my lovely wife—“ as her face came into view Ivar whispered her name at the same time that Earl Erik shouted it to the room “Y/N”

Tags:

@hunnybunn56

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sondepoch · 4 years

Text

Day 6

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST

BREAKING NEWS: C&R Chairman Han to wed BC-Sonic's Corporate Heir?!

After a tip from an anonymous source, it has been newly confirmed that corporate heir (F/N) (L/N) has is engaged to C&R's Chairman Han, and has been for the past eight months! Looking through recent media footage, several sources have discovered multiple pictures and instances of these business lovebirds on various romantic getaways in these past few months. There has been a noted increase in sightings over the past few days of the lovers as they prepared for what we just learned is their approaching wedding date—a short four days from today!

"They wanted the wedding to be a private affair," A reliable source, wishing to remain anonymous, has informed us. "They were worried that if the media caught wind of their plans, then their relationship would suddenly be under scrutiny. But now that the date of the official wedding is so close, no one can keep the surprise any longer!"

The wedding is currently set to be in a private location, the two business typhoons wishing to keep the ceremony as intimate and secretive as their discreet relationship thus far; but now that this news has reached the media world, every outlet in Korea is abuzz with excitement for their future!

There is currently an interview scheduled with Chairman Han on the 12th, just after the wedding. Tune in to this outlet channel to watch the interview LIVE as he reveals all the exciting details of the relationship he's managed to keep secret for so long and stay tuned for a followup article to reveal all the juicy details!

With the number of times you've reread this article, you should be able to recite the whole thing from memory, but your mind simply cannot. You can't process it. Your brain can't begin to comprehend the utter, ridiculous possibility that this is real.

You drop the phone Jumin had handed to you on the table, leaning back in your chair. For once, he doesn't say anything and leaves your mind to process what you just read.

They got so many details wrong, you think. It's the media, shady and unreliable, so the severe drought of truth in the article was rather unsurprising. But the sheer confidence at which the information was delivered made even the lies seem convincing.

Eight months. They said I've been with Chairman Han for eight months.

If not for the severity of the situation, you would scoff at that fact alone. The two of you have been engaged less than eight days, and the 'multiple' pictures showing the two of you together weren't linked anywhere in the article, an obvious nod to the fact that you two had yet to even meet each other during that time.

But the biggest lie is even more troubling.

The words still bounce around in your mind, numb and daunting. Wedding date. Approaching.

You swallow.

Four days from today.

You close your eyes, shutting them before any tears can form and escape. You don't need Jumin to see you cry again.

But the man can practically read your mind.

"(Y/N)," He murmurs, placing a comforting hand over your trembling one. "Don't..."

But even Jumin can't complete the sentence.

Don't what?

This article isn't the only one popping up on headlines today. There are at least a dozen other articles, all quoting the same anonymous source, and you're quite confident that, if you turn on the television, you'll see features talking about your love life there, too.

The article said it.

All of Korea is abuzz.

And there are only a few people in this world who have the power to do such a thing.

You clench your jaw. Anonymous source. After meeting with the woman just yesterday, what other person can this mystery person be?

"Why would my mother leak these details to the public?" You ask, voice breaking in the middle.

Jumin knows the answer.

He also knows that you know the answer.

But you want him, you need him, to lie to you. To tell you that maybe it isn't true. That you aren't going to be marrying Chairman Han in four days. That your mother didn't inform the media as a cruel Checkmate against you, tying you down to the future that the world now expects of you.

Jumin is quiet.

You clench your fists, too horrified by the situation presented in front of you to even relax as the man squeezes your hand tenderly. You close your eyes, trying to think and find a way out of this situation.

And ridiculous as it seems, there's only one thing you can think of.

Something stupid.

Something you should have done a long time ago.

Pulling yourself out of Jumin's arms, you force yourself into a standing position, hoping that the assertive pose will give you the courage you need as you dial Chairman Han's number. The moment he picks up, you don't even give him the chance to bid you his usual "Hello darling," cutting straight to the point.

You take a deep breath.

"I don't love you."

***

Somewhere, in the distance, your father watches the scene playing out before him in the afterlife. Heaven is supposed to be a place of joy, he's been told, but ever since arriving here, he has only been brought misery at seeing all the paint that befell you after his death.

A tear slides down his cheek.

He's so proud of you for having the courage to tell your betrothed the truth: of your unwillingness in this godforsaken marriage.

But then another tear slides down, and another, and the man is quietly sobbing as he continues to watch the scene before him.

It's too late for you, he knows.

It's too late.

***

"I know, my darling."

Your eyes widen at Chairman Han's words, turning to Jumin in shock. The man seems just as surprised as you are at the words, though on his face, confusion overrides everything else. You can hear the gears turning in his head as he thinks: his father knows? This can't be happening, right? This can't.

"But in time, you will come to appreciate me as much as I do you." Chairman Han continues. "There's no other solution. Your mother sees it as much as I do, and while it will be difficult at first, things will definitely sort out. You will be happy in the end, my child. Truly."

Silence.

You know that Chairman Han is waiting for a response from you, but you can't think of anything to say. He knows you don't love him, and he still intends on continuing with the engagement?

In your state of shock, Jumin takes over.

"Father, what is the meaning of this?" His voice is controlled, but there's no mistaking the raw fury that lurks in between every word. "Surely you do not intend on marrying a girl who is unwilling?"

"She may not wish it now, but in time she will see that this is the best thing for her," Comes the Chairman's response, loud and clear. "If anything, Jumin, you should be the one to understand my situation here. You know of the...issues C&R has been facing, the very reason why I'm in international waters right now!"

"That?" Jumin's nostrils flare, and your ears perk up. C&R is facing issues? You knew that Chairman Han had left because of something serious, but what could be so ridiculous that the only solution he sees is marriage?

"As an independent company, C&R's stock will drop five days from now when the press statement and the details of this data breach get released. We need as much positive PR as we can get right now—this is to benefit your future, my son."

And then, it clicks.

Everything.

Your mother, she seeks to torment you. To return to you all the pain that you caused her when your father protected you from a drunk driver and lost his life. That's why she's so on-board with this situation.

On the other hand, you'd thought that Chairman Han wanted to marry you because he had taken an actual liking to you, and perhaps he had. In the beginning.

Now, it's obvious.

It's not a marriage Chairman Han seeks.

It's the cushion that the marriage will provide.

Marrying you, to him, will be a safety net.

Linking BC-Sonic and C&R will automatically ensure that his company doesn't go under, no matter how large the scandal caused by the data breach C&R suffered. Moreover, the current benefits that both BC-Sonic and C&R are facing are immense, the amount of media coverage going into investigating the details of your supposed "love life" only further advertising both companies and raising their value.

The rise caused by the media hype around your two companies will offset any losses that C&R takes when the public learns of this data breach, and the empire that Chairman Han has worked so hard to build will be safe.

And on top of that, he gets a pretty and young wife out of it.

"Father, you cannot be serious." Jumin looks terrifying now, pure wrath dripping into his every word. You wish that Chairman Han could be here now and see his son in front of him, see the distress that he is causing. "Do not marry (Y/N) for the sake of your business."

"Our business, Jumin."

"I would rather have no company to inherit than to inherit a company that was saved through you ruining an innocent girl's life."

"Goodness, Jumin! I am not ruining her life," Chairman Han defends. "She may not love me today, but she definitely will in the future. You know I will treat her well. I'm telling the truth."

And angry as Jumin is, you're shocked to find that even he does not contest that statement—though you're not sure if that's because it's the truth or because the man's judgment is being shrouded by the fact that he's dealing with his own father.

"Father, if it is the PR that you seek..." Jumin's voice wavers uncharacteristically, his tone desperate. "Please let her marry me instead. It will have the same benefits you seek."

You know you should pretend to be surprised, but you're too tired to put up an act. These past six days have shown you an entirely new world with Jumin, a world that you never want to leave.

You love him. And you know he feels the same way.

No doubt, you adore the idea of spending the rest of your life with him.

"You love her?" Chairman Han asks.

"Yes." Jumin doesn't hesitate. His father, however, does.

It's a long time before the man's response finally comes, but the weight of his words seems to sink your entire world. "I'm sorry, my son. Your hand in marriage is to be saved for separate business pursuits, and the public already knows about the two of us, and..."

You tune out the rest of Chairman Han's words, only aware of the fact that, other than Jumin, no one is on your side.

And now that Chairman Han has made his priorities clear, nothing can save you from your future.

"Please, put her back on the phone. This wedding will do no harm to any of us—it simply quickens things. (Y/N) and I were to marry from the very start, and we're going to be doing just that."

Jumin bites his lip, internal conflict glowing darkly in his grey eyes.

You can see his turmoil over having to accept his father's words or fight against them. Your heart softens. Just as weak as you are in front of your own mother, Jumin seems to harbor the same soft spot for his father.

You sigh.

Jumin has done so much for you.

It's time for you to accept that this is beyond your hands.

Gently, you take the phone from him. "Fine," You murmur into the microphone. You keep the words coming steadily, not giving Chairman Han a single chance to interrupt you. "I will marry you in four days. Send me the details over text, and please have all arrangements ready. Do not call me until then, do not contact me until then. Say what you will to the media—I'll marry you. But, Chairman Han, I do not love you."

You hang up the call, somewhat shocked that you even had to courage to say those words. They were so bold. So unnaturally bold, coming from you.

Then again, nothing about this situation is natural.

Closing your eyes, you slink back into your seat.

So much has changed over the course of these past few days.

Too much.

Just yesterday, when your mother had left the apartment, you'd been so willing. You'd truly accepted your fate. Resigned yourself to the fact that your life would be spent with the Chairman, as your mother wished.

You knew that you would have to marry Chairman Han.

But now, things are happening too quickly.

And...

"I don't want to marry him, Jumin." Your voice is small as you say the words. "I don't want him."

I want you.

"I know," Jumin murmurs. For once, he doesn't fight back or try to offer you any way out of the situation, now that he, too, knows how futile it is.

Fighting against one parent was one thing, but for both to be in on it?

Nothing could have prepared him for this, just as nothing could have prepared you.

"We have three days," You murmur quietly to Jumin. It's a silent proposition.

Three days until the day of your marriage, three days for the two of you to bask in what you both recognize as newfound love. Why, six days have already been wasted—you don't want to sacrifice even a minute.

Jumin turns to you, eyes focused. "I'll take these days off, then." He comes close to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You do want this, correct?"

You nod your head.

You don't just want this. You need it.

And then Jumin's lips are on yours, as tender and delicate as the very first time you'd kissed.

You kiss back with a strange sense of solemnity, noting how this kiss is different from the previous ones. It's sad, the tear stains on your cheek moistening Jumin's own face. It's pained, with the knowledge that the two of you won't have the rest of your lives to continue kissing and loving each other. It's yearning, yearning for more of each other and more time to appreciate each other.

But most of all: it's helpless.

Because at last, the two of you have come to terms with the truth: you're soon going to be sealed away in marriage to another, and Jumin will meet a similar fate.

You can't belong to each other.

But, perhaps, for these next few days, you can forget that truth.

You gasp lightly as Jumin wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring the word "Jump" huskily into your mouth. You don't waste a moment in complying and wrapping your legs around the man as he walks you to his room, pressing you against the wall. He keeps you pinned upright with his body, kisses trailing lower and lower until his mouth is settled over a familiar spot over your neck.

He sucks.

Your moan is breathless as it leaves your lips.

Jumin continues, slowly pulling articles of clothing off of you until you're entirely naked for him, only your underwear separating him from unleashing all his lust upon you. His eyes are hungry, starved for contact and starved for you as he gazes down upon your exposed form.

You can't belong to Jumin.

But for these next few days, that doesn't matter. For these next few days, you're his, and he's yours.

And as he tosses you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to continue leaving love marks all over your body, you can already sense that he plans on showing you all the love and lust and passion and happiness of your would-be life together in the short time you have remaining.

So with thoughts of Chairman Han and your mother pushed far to the back of your mind, you yank Jumin by his tie and pull his lips back onto yours, savoring the contact.

For these next three days, nothing will be able to pull you from him.

Nothing.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: i havent seen my best friend in over a month and i hate it

Comment & Like

Next Update: 5/06/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

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jadelotusflower · 4 years

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Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x02 Sheriff Got Your Tongue?

So for My Gang to Me this year I rewatched the first episode, intending to leave it at that, but recently I’ve been really in my feelings about this show again so I’m going to go all the way and rewatch the whole thing. Yes, even season 3.

So, some random thoughts, and Emotions about That Robin/Marian scene.

It’s rare we see some spunk from Locksley villagers, so Sarcastic Bow Man was very much appreciated. RIP Sarcastic Bow Man’s tongue.

“We are also against the Sheriff!” I really love Much’s earnest logic, and good heart - he doesn’t want the men robbing them to get sick from eating undercooked rabbit - or alternatively, doesn’t want them thinking he’s a bad cook, and either way it’s precious and Protect Much Forever. “Well those were horrible men” is also a very charming line reading.

Aw, Forrest and Hanton. I wonder that they went to the trouble of establishing them and including a wife for Forrest, only for them never to be seen or spoken again after this episode. When exactly were they cut, since I would have assumed the script for episode 3 at least would have been written before filming started in Hungary? Anyway, my personal headcanon: Forrest reconciles with his wife and she gets pregnant, so they leave to live somewhere he’s not a known outlaw, and Hanton goes with them.

“With your lawlessness and your...disgusting camp, and your snide...your snide...” It’s the way Sam sells it, Much is MVP in these scenes.

Okay, Robin’s been gone for five years, Alice lives in Locksley, little Little John is ten (?) years old. So why doesn’t Little John recognise Robin? Or he does, and doesn’t care until he hears about the reward, or doesn’t actually remember what Robin looks like, since Robin would have been a teenager when John was outlawed? I feel this is untapped story potential.

Concussion count: 1 (Robin)

Guy telling the Locksley villagers that they should have no fear of reprisal from Robin just goes to show how much he doesn’t get it. The Sheriff, on the other hand - the attempted manipulation by portraying Robin as brainwashed in a pow camp is clever (and of course that comes up again a terrible later episode).

“If I tell you where I am, can I claim the 20 pounds?” The pose, the quip: Peak Robin.

“In the Holy Land my master had dreams - he spoke your name.” Called out like that in front of your father, yikes. But the way Much looks right past Edward and stares at Marian, while she can’t look him in the eye - I really love the Much and Marian dynamic.

Speaking of great dynamics, the Robin and Sheriff scene. Within a day, Vaisey already has Robin all figured out (well mostly) and knows exactly what buttons to push. I credit the show with attempting to address the problem of why Robin just doesn’t kill the Sheriff, and tying it to Robin’s broader ptsd is a good choice.

A Look. A Scene. Moving back to regular formatting because I have Feelings:

It’s very telling that Robin actually seems rather upset when he first sees Marian - he thinks he will soon die, and doesn’t want to her to see him like that. But that very quickly changes to amusement by her manipulation of the jailer, but crucially, he can’t let her know he’s impressed, he has to look away as soon as she turns her attention to him. And of course, begins to berate him, but what I love about this scene (and this pairing) is that they’re both right! Marian’s point that getting himself killed will doom more lives than he has saved is sound, but so is Robin’s, that he can’t stand by and weigh up lives to sacrifice for the greater good.

And he’s enjoying the banter, since Marian was probably the only person who ever argued like this with him, but then the tone of the conversation shifts:

“You could have stayed here in the first place instead of following your King to the Holy Land if you cared so much about your precious people. But you didn’t. You chose war. You chose glory.”

Marian slips here, she gets emotional - “you chose war (over me)” “you chose glory (over me)” And Robin thinks he’s got the upper hand here - he leans in and says “What is this about?” when he knows what it’s about, and she knows he knows what it’s about. It’s a reflection of their scene in the first episode, except this time with real emotion rather than flirtatious bravado, but neither of them want to admit it, they want the other one to first.

“This is about you saying that you care about me the people of Locksley when the truth is you ran off to battle thousands of miles away.”

Lucy’s delivery of this line just kills me - the hesitation, the hurt, the way she can’t meet his eyes until the end. Even behind veiled words, it’s the most honest she is about her feelings until the season finale. His return has thrown her off kilter, afraid she’ll drown in all that water under the bridge, and she is angry at him, angry at herself for feeling for him when she swore she never would again, for not even knowing what she wants from him in that moment, because when he does reach out for her she can’t handle it, and slaps his hand away.

And I don’t think Robin really understands until that moment how much he hurt her by leaving - it was all fun banter like it used to be until he sees what it really is, so he tries to show affection and is rebuffed. So in response, he withdraws too, back to that safe banter-place where everything is played off as a joke, and even gives her (and himself) an out - he wasn’t reaching out for her, there was “just something on [her] cheek” - but even that is a pointed remark, allowing him to wrest back the power in the conversation. It’s sets up their relationship for the whole rest of the season - Marian is very, very careful never to let her true feelings show like this again, and he is too easily rebuffed and hides in that safe place, where there is distance and he can say exactly how he feels but pretend it’s a joke and push her buttons - “I love it when you look at me in anger.”

It’s so good, because they are both just crying out for each other, but they’re too proud, in Marian’s case too hurt, in Robin’s case too defensive, and both of them too afraid to be open and risk getting hurt.

“If you go back in and die, then I will die. Of grief. So you must come now, if only the save me.” PROTECT MUCH FOREVER.

Robin proving that he’s willing to kill requires a bit of suspension of disbelief (wouldn’t Vaisey notice the “dead guard” disappears?) but it’s plot necessary, so we’ll go with it.

“That arrow hurt, lavender boy” - I love Roy.

When Robin tells the others to go, and then holds off the rest of the guards by himself it is A Moment, and while it’s Robin being flashy and showing off, it’s also showing them that he’s fit to lead them, because he’s willing to put himself in danger to protect them, to demonstrate how capable he is - but risky behaviour is also linked to ptsd and I think is also absolutely Robin always seeking control over any situation, and the more dangerous it is, the more rewarding when he succeeds.

Oh, I forgot this outfit. A +

#robin hood bbc #robin hood rewatch #robin x marian #my gang to me #sheriff got your tongue?#this week in Everyone Needs Therapy #and why can't these tragics just communicate #+ precious much is precious #and whatever happened to forrest and hanton?

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 5 years

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J2 tinhat summary

For a while now I’ve been wanting to piece together a more comprehensive version of J2 tinhat facts/observations/thoughts/etc., and although the project is obviously an incredibly lengthy one, I figured I would at least create a kind of summary to post in the meantime. Even the summary however is VERY long, and I don’t have the ability to do cuts, so I apologize for that! But I am going to post the summary in a few parts, so here is the first!

This does not follow a linear timeline by the way, just as a heads up, and I’m not including many examples that I’ve already talked about recently to save space.

1. The Js spending holidays together and also vacationing together, like their skiing trip to Whistler, Canada for example and the Padackles family vacation to the Turks and Caicos among others. Recently the Js traveled to Europe, Dubai, and Australia.

2. Of course Jensen’s public move from Malibu to Austin (conveniently near Jared’s house) is a strong piece of evidence. Jensen’s comments about being closer to friends and family don’t make much sense as most of his friends live hours away, and he has also stated several times in the past that he loved living in Malibu and being on the beach, yet he still relocated (to be closer to Jared, we know).

3. This Js have used the word “we” instead of “I” on quite a few occasions while talking about things that should not involve the other J (again, as far as the general public is aware). They have also done the same thing with the word “our” instead of “my” and “us” instead of “me.”

4. Both Danneel and her brother Gino were nearly bankrupt when Danneel began her ‘relationship’ with Jensen. Jensen 100% supported (even way back then) both Danneel and her brother financially, which is often one of the main benefits a faux-spouse receives in the bearding arrangement (financial security and/or the recognition that comes with marrying a celebrity/someone who lives in the public eye).

5. We know for a fact that the Js share clothes and belongings very frequently (and have for many years). Not only do we have photographic evidence of this, but they’ve also both admitted that it’s true.

6. There is now a vast amount of evidence that Jared and Jensen spend a great deal of time with each other’s children, together and by themselves, and keep in mind that even the evidence we do have is likely only a small fraction of the actual reality. They really do seem to function in a lot of ways as one family, which of course makes sense from a tinhat’s perspective.

A few examples that I haven’t posted recently:

Jensen talking about how he used to wear a sherif’s belt and nothing else as a child and then when Jared makes fun of him, reminding Jared that Shep also likes to go nude and that Jensen has to remind him to put clothes on at the breakfast table.

Jensen: “[Jared] was out, so I was watching the kids.”

^ the above blurb by Fangasm

In 2015, Jensen said during a convention panel that he has “kids now,” realizing the error and correcting it to “kid” (he only had one at the time according to public knowledge).

Along the same vein, we can look at things that Genevieve and Danneel have said as well, such as Genevieve stating that one thing she loves about Jared is that “he shows up as a co-parent to our kids.” The definition of co-parenting is “the experience of raising children together as single parents like when a divorce or separation occurs,” or in this case, an agreement to parent together alongside the guise of marriage.

7. At this point the Js have accidentally mentioned so many things that relate to sleeping with each other/being with each other late at night or first thing in the morning etc. that I won’t even try to list them all. But just know that there are many of these examples (I’m happy to specify if anyone wants to send me a message about it).

8. The Js have been spotted dining together (or out at bars/other venues together) on many occasions, less in recent years, some of which have even been described as quite romantic/intimate settings. And of course, again, these are just the ones noticed by the public, not the likely many times the Js have booked private dining arrangements or something else of that nature. I just posted a few of these examples separately if you want to check them out.

9. Jared has forgotten the specifics of his ‘dating’ timeline actually a few times, probably the most well-known of those times being during his Live With Kelly interview where he claimed to have been single at the start of Supernatural when in reality (according to the information given to the general public), he and Sandra McCoy were very much together at that point. He also told an interviewer that he was single and then later on claimed to have been dating Genevieve two full months before that interview took place.

10. I already posted a fantastic humorous account of the many different stories told concerning the period of time Jensen publicly lived with Jared (again, message me if you’d like me to send it to you), but suffice to say…the lies became quite immense and tangled up in each other and the whole thing made many people wonder about what might really be going on between the Js.

11. Jared posed in front of a mural by himself (without Gen) that said “Love will win” in response to Jensen posing in front of a mural earlier that same day that said “Love is love,” a well known LGBT slogan.

12. Jensen has rotated between several different wedding rings, which I have yet to see anyone come up with a believable-enough reason for, but whatever the reason, it certainly is something that makes you wonder.

13. When asked about “finding the one,” Jensen gave a very long, beautiful, thoughtful response during which he never once used the word “she,” “her,” “wife,” etc. (or Danneel’s name). His reply also contained several things that he had previously said (and would say again) to describe Jared and/or his relationship with Jared:

Another similar example is when Jensen was asked about his favorite memory of SPN and he responded with his journey from single-hood to marriage, again not using female pronouns or “Danneel,” who hadn’t had anything to do with the show at that point anyway.

14. This one I remember having to hunt down and verify back when I first started “hardcore hatting,” and yes it is true. Sandy, Jared’s ‘girlfriend’ from years ago, favorited a tweet once in which she was referred to as Jared’s “ex-beard.” I mean, it’s pretty hard to misinterpret that…

15. Gossip columnist Ted Casablanca once pretty much accused Danneel of her relationship with Jensen being fake. Previously to that spat, he had also written an article in response to double engagement rumors saying that “Jensen and Jared would sooner marry each other than who they’re currently rumored to be getting hitched to. If I’m wrong I’ll get Taryn Ryder a date with Ryan Gosling.”

16. Speaking of the engagements, nearly everything about them was highly suspicious. Both occurred on the same weekend under the guise that each J had no idea the other was proposing, despite having said multiple times that they tell each other everything and showing that to be true through their actions as well. When asked on the spot what his proposal story was, Jensen retold the exact proposal story that had taken place a year earlier with Jared and Sandy, changing only the location.

17. Another well-known mishap was the ‘dinner in Italy’ story, told first by Jared in which he claimed to have been with his wife at the time and told second by Jensen at a different convention in which JENSEN was in fact the one who had been with Jared. Of course ironically, nothing would have even seemed strange about the whole thing if the story had been told truthfully from the get-go, but keeping up with lies is far from easy.

18. This one I think we all know. Joanna Krupa, known for her role in The Real Housewives of Miami, has admitted to bearding for someone in the past, and the only real celebrity she’s ever dated was Jensen. Which of course, like many of these observations, is not proof as much as it’s, well…an observation. Albeit quite an interesting one.

19. It was revealed by Ryan Seacrest (who has been at the center of many “gay or straight or other?” whispers for a long time now) that he used to live with Jensen, which wouldn’t be odd if Jensen had ever mentioned it while talking pretty extensively about his past roommates/living situations.

Like, for example, we HAD known that Jensen and Ty Vaughn lived together for a stretch, and some hats believe (due to the seemingly very intimate nature of their relationship at the time) that Ty may be an ex of Jensen’s.

20. I saw someone point out the fact that Jensen’s oldest daughter’s middle name is Jay (a nickname Jensen has for Jared and actually something they’ve each said they call each other). On its own, this could just look like either a coincidence or a testament to the strong friendship between the Js, but it’s an interesting bit of information alongside everything else.

21. Richard Speight Junior has flubbed pretty famously a few times and nearly given away sensitive information about the Js being together. I’ve posted a few of these examples recently so I’ll hold off on including them here, but-, you know by now, just ask me if you’d like them!

And he’s not the only one who’s said some interesting things!

#j2 tinhat

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poorreputation · 5 years

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That Being Said, So Get This

A Supernatural-Buzzfeed: Unsolved Crossover! All part of the @cocklesdestielfiction Cockles-Destiel Crazy Crossover Challenge! (and @verobatto-angelxhunter)

To read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960567

Wordcount: 6390

Ship: Destiel

Rating: Teen and up

Any kind of warnings: canon-typical violence. If you watch either show, you should be fine. Also, lots of in-jokes. Maybe too many in-jokes.

Also: contains SPN S14 Spoilers

Summary:

What happens when Buzzfeed: Unsolved and Supernatural are set in the same universe! Ryan Bergara, the believer. Shane Madej, the skeptic. The Winchester Brothers- serial killers? And whatever happened to James Novak?

Story below the cut!

Ryan Bergara waits for the sound engineer's cue, then begins reading aloud from his script, "In June of 2008, James 'Jimmy' Novak disappeared, leaving behind wife Amelia and daughter Claire. Just a few years later, in 2010, Amelia vanishes, as well. Jimmy is reported to have been spotted a handful of times since then, but what could have lead a loving father and husband to vanishing from the face of the earth? And what prompted his wife to join him?"

A pause, a second reading of the same paragraph, and then Ryan continues, "The Novaks were known for their devout faith and regular church attendances. According to close friends and family, Jimmy became a zealot in the months leading up to his disappearance, saying that he'd gained the ability to 'talk to Angels'. It's said this put a great strain on his and Amelia's marriage. But, is this what caused him to leave? Did he even leave under his own will?"

More details are fleshed out, more takes are made, until Ryan reaches his favorite part of every Unsolved episode, "That being said, let's get to the theories. Our first theory builds off of Jimmy's known fanaticism. That he had become convinced he could talk to, and become a vessel for, Angels, and so left his family to fulfill his mission to god. This, however, does not explain what happened to Amelia, or why she disappeared so long after her husband.

"Our second theory is more far-fetched, and comes mostly from the internet rumor-mill. Over the years, there's been alleged sightings of Jimmy Novak, not only nationally, but internationally, as well. He's most controversially been claimed to have been spotted with infamous serial killers, Sam and Dean Winchester. Coupled with this is the idea that Jimmy and Dean are romantically connected, which people cite as to why Jimmy left his family in the first place, and that Amelia didn't disappear while looking for Jimmy, but was, in fact, killed by Dean. And, for the record, I think this is horseshit."

Ryan looks up to see the sound engineer silently howling with laughter, which puts a dumb grin on his own face, "But wait, it gets worse!"

Clearing his throat, and fighting to keep a straight face, Ryan continues, "Our third and final theory is that Jimmy and Amelia weren't running towards anything, but away from someone. That someone? Their 10 year old daughter Claire, who some, as in the internet, claim is a Demon-" Ryan breaks off his sentence, laughing so hard he gives himself the hiccups, "This is gonna be our worst episode, ever."

3 WEEKS LATER

Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej step out of one of two rental vans, as the rest of the crew starts to unpack. Shane, the taller of the two hosts, stretches his arms, "God, it's good to get out."

Ryan doesn't respond, looking on at the location for that week's episode. His stomach aches just from the sight of it.

"You all right there?" Shane asks, "Breakfast making a reappearance?"

"Nah, just." Ryan shakes his head, "The cases with murder always get me. So fucking creepy."

"Yup." Shane claps his shoulder, leading the way to the front door.

The house is a single story home, very modern, less than ten years old. Only one family had lived in it, and now it's vacant. The lawn is trimmed, as it's the least the city can do, but the walls, windows and porch are filthy. Items deliberately thrown at the windows are dry and caked on, and Ryan can just picture kids in costumes throwing eggs at the house on Halloween, probably on a dare.

Shane fishes out the keys from his pocket, waits for their cameraman to give them the thumbs-up, and unlocks the door. Motioning for Ryan to go first, Shane gives a cheeky bow.

"Alright, whatever." Ryan mutters.

Everyone filed in, lighting tested and cleared, Ryan begins. He walks into the living room, Shane just a pace behind, and soaks in the scene. The furniture is gone, a light fixture and a bookshelf are all that remain. trying to recall the grisly crime scene photos, Ryan waves hand where the couch should have been. "In August of 2011, Marianne Wyatt and her three boys sat in this area, as someone came up behind them, and shot them, one after the other. They'd been bound, unable to escape, and-" Ryan blinks, nausea overwhelming him, "And a few days later, the father, Marianne's husband, Phil, was found dead. His death ruled a suicide, no note was ever found. Police couldn't prove it, but the theory was that Phil killed his family, and then himself. No one knows why."

"Neighbors on either side said they heard nothing?" Shane says, prompting Ryan out of his daze.

"Heard no screams, no shots. Police couldn't even pinpoint the wife and kids' time of death." Ryan nods, "I think I need some water."

The cameraman shoots some B-roll as Ryan sits, one of the producers handing him a water bottle. "thanks." Ryan nods, as he takes a swallow.

There's rumbling outside, followed by one of the crew commenting, "whoa, look at that ride!"

"Sweet car." the boom operator quips.

Shane looks out the window, "Eh, too obnoxious for my tastes."

"That's a '67 Chevy Impala." the first crew member replies, "You have no taste."

Several people, including Shane, laugh at this, and leaves Ryan with an odd sense of deja-vu. Maybe if the room would stop spinning, he could figure out what it is.

With Ryan looking so sick, the rest of the crew agree to break for the day. Shane drives Ryan to a gas station to get the sickly man some medicine and a Sprite to calm his stomach. Feeling much better, Ryan stays back for a bit to check out the souvenirs the store has to offer, "We could get a hat, or maybe something small like a shot glass."

"Or, we can get gas station nachos!" Shane grins, his smile only getting broader as Ryan pales at the thought, "And here I thought you were a hardened pro, Ryan Bergara."

"It might just be food poisoning." Ryan replies, thumbing through some key chains. A car pulls into the lot, loudly announcing its presence, and Ryan has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "What's it with people around here and their shitty mufflers?"

"Oh, that's not very fair." Shane replies, the sarcasm lightly sprinkling his words, "I mean- look! -it's the same car from earlier. You shouldn't make such generalizations."

Ryan peers up as they start walking towards the cashier, as the black, classic car comes to a stop, the engine cutting off a second later. Ryan's eyes widen, as he remembers where he's seen this car before. He shakes his head, willing his heart to slow down. As Shane pays for their stuff, Ryan can't resist the urge to try and catch a glimpse of the car's owner. Just to reassure himself, nothing more. However, by the time Shane's ready to leave, the driver of the Impala has already gotten back in the car.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, save for the radio tuned into some local station. It's a sports station, and Ryan feels it's a nice gesture Shane put it on for him, but Ryan just can't concentrate. He can feel Shane glance his way every now and then, and as he pulls into the hotel parking lot, "Hey, if you're really feeling that bad, I'm sure we can find an Urgent Care, around here."

Ryan shakes his head, "It's not that."

"What's on your mind?"

Ryan stares out the window as Shane parks the rental, "Reading up on all of these cases, it makes ya kinda paranoid after a while."

Shane laughs, "You don't have to be so serious about it."

"No, really. The car we saw earlier? It reminds me of the episode we filmed a few weeks back. The Novaks, remember?"

"I don't recall the devout Christian couple driving a muscle car."

"Right." Ryan nods, "I'm an idiot, I didn't include it in the script, but it's the car Dean Winchester's known to drive."

"So? It's a 'classic car', I'm sure a ton of people drive it."

"But it was in front of the Wyatt house, earlier."

Shane gives a single shrug, "Maybe it's a fan. There was a data breach, last week. Someone could've leaked the location of this week's episode."

Ryan has to admit to himself, Shane's reasoning does make him feel better, "You're probably right."

Dean steers the Impala into the motel parking lot, as Sam sits next to him, reading from his phone, "Marianne Wyatt and her kids are buried together at Eternal Rest Cemetery. Phil, however, was cremated."

"But, a man is reported to be seen in the house?" Dean asks.

"That's right." Sam confirms.

"Some personal items of Phil's still there?"

Castiel speaks up from the backseat, "House was empty when we searched it earlier, save for some signs of 'squatters'." he answers, using air-quotes, "Have we considered the possibility of the spirit not being Phil Wyatt?"

"No one else has lived in the house, let alone died here." Sam says.

"What if Phil's suicide was staged?" Castiel poses, "The wife and children are killed, the husband's taken hostage for insurance. Something goes wrong, Phil is murdered, and it's staged as a suicide."

"There wasn't any physical evidence tying Phil to the murders." Dean agrees, "Could've been a set-up. It'd also make sense why he'd be a vengeful spirit."

"Again, we don't know it's Phil, or what's tying him, there." Sam sighs, "It feels like we're going in circles."

"If not Phil Wyatt, then what? The killer?" Dean asks, "Unless the guy died in the house, why would he be stuck?"

Castiel thinks, "Maybe the real killer has something from this crime. Kept it one his person, even in death."

"So, the 'real' killer's stuck in someone else's house?" Dean shakes his head, "This shit's giving me a migraine, god."

Entering the motel, Sam gets to work researching any possible leads on the Wyatt murders, as Dean hops in the shower, and Castiel is left standing in the middle of the room. After a minute of tense silence, Sam takes the bait, "What's wrong, Cas?"

"The beds look disgusting." Castiel practically spits, not in harsh judgement, but genuine concern. Sam looks over at what he's talking about, and sees the usual grimy, cheap motel pillows and comforters. Both beds have old, faded stains, and minute tears. Sam figures Castiel being without powers makes him more sensitive to cleanliness, or lack thereof, more than as an Angel.

"Don't know what you want me to do about it." Sam sighs, "I'm sure they're just old."

"I think I want to sleep out in the Impala." Castiel mutters.

Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes, "Ask Dean for the keys when he gets out, then."

Castiel resorts to standing awkwardly in the corner, as Sam does his best to just research the Wyatt murders. By the time Dean returns to the main room, back in his old, sweaty clothes, making the shower seem entirely pointless, Sam stumbles upon some interesting information.

"Hey. So, get this," Sam calls the other two men over, "There was this leak at the Buzzfeed headquarters, some of it revealing the Unsolved guys' sites for the new season."

Castiel stares blankly at him. Dean sees this and goes, "It's a couple of assholes on the web who mess with ghosts and Demons. Sam, being the serial killer fanboy he is, is obsessed with their true crime series."

"I'm not a fanboy."

Dean mutters to Castiel, "Yes he is."

"The reason I bring it up," Sam presses, "is because this week, they're covering the Wyatt murders."

Dean pauses, "Wait, that camera crew we saw earlier-?"

"Looks like it's Buzzfeed."

Castiel leans over, peering at the computer screen, "The- the disappearance of the Novaks?"

Sam and Dean turn, and confirm Castiel’s observation, "Oh, my God."

"I mean," Dean starts, "There's more than one Novak out there, you know?"

"From Pontiac, Illinois?" Sam asks.

Dean frowns, "Well, I guess that means you can't meet your idols, Sammy."

Sam scoffs at this, "They're probably gone by now, anyway. They never stay in a location for longer than a day."

"Let's use caution when going back, regardless." Castiel says, turning to Dean, "May I stay in the Impala, tonight?"

Dean, flustered and blushing, replies, "What's wrong with in here? Afraid to share the bed? I was gonna make Sam sleep on the floor, anyway."

Sam feels a part of his soul wither away from the second-hand embarrassment.

"This room is filthy, and I don't want to stay here." Castiel answers.

"That's just character." Dean mumbles, taking out his keys, "Fine. Whatever."

After Castiel shuts the front door, Sam braces himself for Dean's inevitable angsty tantrum, "He didn't have to be so rude. We stay in places like this all the time! Sure, none of these rooms come with a third bed, so maybe he was afraid to bunk with one of us, especially you." Dean points at Sam, "You kick in your sleep. In fact, I was just gonna make you sleep on the floor, with you being the youngest and everything."

Sam wonders how close the nearest liquor store is.

At midnight, Dean can't help himself but to check on Castiel. He needs a good excuse though, so he grabs the remainder of the six pack, all that Sam didn't drink, and heads out into the dimly lit parking lot.

Dean can tell from some distance away that Cas is still awake. The Impala's interior is alight, and as Dean nears he can see Cas in the backseat holding up a book. Reaching the car, Dean knocks on the window, then lifts the cans of beer when Castiel glances up. Castiel moves to unlock the door, and without invitation Dean scoots in, ignoring how close-quarters the situation is, and offers Castiel a drink. Dean's so preoccupied with not brushing up against Castiel in any way, that he forgets to actually say anything.

"Did you need something?" Castiel asks, opening the can with a pop.

Dean, suffering from a brain-fart, "Just, uhm, checking in."

The awkward silence is so palpable, Dean feels like he's about to choke, "So, this place can get pretty uncomfortable. Did you, er, want a pillow? Or something? Blanket?" he says, sweating profusely.

Castiel points to the front seat, "I already have a pillow, thank you."

Dean gives a high-pitched hum, and, with little to add, exits the car.

Back in the motel, "I think Cas is upset." Dean says as he closes the door, "He doesn't want to be in the same room as m- us," he looks up at Sam, who's doing his best to ignore his older brother at the moment, "You think he's still mad about the whole 'you're dead to me' thing?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "Gee, what could ever give you that impression."

"I was just being angry!" Dean starts to pace, right as Sam's head starts to pound, "I yell at you sometimes, and you know I don't mean it!"

"I've known you for 36 years, I think I've picked up on that." Sam deadpans, "Maybe, and here's a novel concept, you tell Cas that yourself?"

"I don't know, I think you-"

"No." Sam presses, "I'm not gonna be the messenger between you guys. You want to patch things up with Cas, do it yourself."

In the morning, after a full night of not resolving their issues, Castiel returns to the motel from a coffee run. Wordlessly passing around three cups, the group huddles around Sam as he gets ready to show them his recent findings.

Ryan and Shane return to the Wyatt house first thing in the morning, the crew waiting for them out front. Working off of nothing but coffee and toast, Ryan's ready for take two. They enter the house, set up their equipment just like the day before, and get situated.

"There's one suspect, outside of Phil Wyatt himself, police posit committed these crimes" Ryan says, "And since the guy's dead, it'll remain as speculation."

"Victor Myers was the personal assistant to a business mogul." Sam begins, "He traveled frequently, mainly within the United States. Occasionally, he would go into the next town over, pick a target, and kill them. The longer he did this, the bolder he got."

Ryan says, "Victor started off killing one, then two people at a time. After a couple of years, he found his rhythm in killing families and making it look like a break-in." he looks around the vacant living room, a chill going down his spine.

"He wrote about some of his kills," Sam continues, "but it's suspected he took many more lives, around 30, at least. He died of a stroke, four years ago. Police only knew of the murders after searching his home and DNA evidence. The deaths of the Wyatts are thought to be connected to Myers, judging by Victor's whereabouts at the time and the nature of the kills, but obviously the police can't pursue it."

"So, we're dealing with the ghost of a serial killer?" Dean asks.

"Serial killers are known to keep 'trophies' of their victims." Castiel adds, "It could be what's tying him to the house."

Sam's eyes widen, as he lifts up the laptop for everyone else to see, "Maybe not."

Castiel tilts his head to the side, "The events began before Victor's death?"

"So," Dean asks, "Who's haunting?"

"The thought of Victor Myers being behind these killings seems like a no-brainer," Ryan says, "but it doesn't have everyone convinced. Personally, I think the cops here know it's the truth, but don't want to go through the trouble of proving Myers did it."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Shane nods in agreement, "Too much paperwork."

After filming, the cast and crew pack their things, and get ready to leave the Wyatt house, and the small suburban town, for the last time. Ryan can't help but breathe a sigh of relief; the suffocating feelings he'd had the day before weren't as strong, now, but they were still incredibly unpleasant. At the threshold of the once occupied home, he turns back to the empty rooms that echoed their steps and voices, "If there's a Victor around here, you can kindly fuck off."

Shane shrugs his bag higher up on his shoulder, "The camera's are off, buddy. No idea what you're trying to prove."

"That there's a thick and toxic presence in the house?" Ryan asks, shutting the door behind him, "One that we'll never have to deal with again?"

Shane groans, "It's True Crime season, Ryan. The one season where you and I are on the same page. And you have to make it about your spooky stories."

"Most murders have some whisper of the supernatural to them." Ryan replies, "I just don't always bring it up. This time I did. So, there."

Shane shakes his head, "What an active imagination you have."

Dean methodically checks all of their weapons, handing each item one-by-one to Sam for packing. Their gear, stored in two duffels, is almost ready to go, Sam zipping up the first bag and readying the second. Castiel does a once-over of their motel room, as after they're done with the Wyatt house, they're heading straight out of town; all three men agreed, with the extra attention on them from those 'paranormal investigators' from Buzzfeed, it wouldn't be smart to linger.

An hour later, Dean gathers everyone around, "We'll park the Impala a block from the house, walk the rest of the way. Someone spots the car, they won't automatically know where we are. Ready?" a nod from Sam and Castiel, "Right, let's go."

Flight not until mid-morning, the crew decide to treat themselves to some drinks at the local bar. A couple of rounds in, Shane returns from the bathroom and says to the group, "Hey, guys, I forgot to leave the key at the house. Can one of y'all drop me off?"

Ryan, who's only had one beer, raises his hand, "Got ya covered."

A minute later, both men are back in the rental, driving down that familiar street. Ryan pulls up to the curb, front passenger's door lined up with the sidewalk leading to the house. Shane steps out, then looks back at Ryan, "Aren't you coming?"

Ryan blinks, "Why would I?"

"Make sure I get to the door safely. For goodness' sake, Ryan, if I can't drive myself, what makes you think I can walk straight."

"Bullshit, you just want me to go near that house."

Shane's face splits into a wide grin, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Get it over with." Ryan says, climbing out of the car.

With more than a little swagger to his step, Shane leads the way. Both men, however, stop in their tracks as a crashing sound is heard, coming from within the house.

Ryan doesn't dare blink, "What-?"

One of the lights turns on. Ryan recognizes it as being the bedroom window.

"Well." Shane says, "Leave a door unlocked for a few hours, and this is what happens." Ryan doesn't miss the note of unease in the other man's voice. Unbelievably, Shane continues to walk towards the front door.

"What are you doing?!" Ryan hisses.

"Well, we should probably kick them out." Shane explains, as if it were obvious.

"No, we call the cops."

"You do that, then."

Ryan pulls out his phone as Shane foolishly enters the house. Before Ryan can pull up the keypad, he hears Shane exclaim, "Holy shit!"

Ryan can't help it, "What's wrong?" Not waiting for an answer, feet with a mind of their own, Ryan walks through the darkened doorway.

More crashes are coming from one of the other rooms, people yelling, grunting, as Ryan turns on his phone's light. All along the walls of the living room are pentagrams, the smell of spray-paint permeating the air, making Ryan dizzy. He can feel his hands start to shake, and he thinks he's gonna puke.

Shane turns to him, pale in the light, "We should leave."

The bedroom door shakes, the voices on the other side increasing in volume until-

-silence.

Simultaneously, the front door slams shut as the one to the bedroom swings open, bouncing off the wall and sending small chunks of plaster flying. It takes a moment for Ryan's eyes and mind to come to the same conclusion, that within the room, standing around the body of a man, crumpled on the floor, are three men. It takes a second longer for Ryan to realize who these men are.

The eyes of infamous killers Sam and Dean Winchester, and missing person James Novak, stare back at them.

Shane runs to the front door, trying for the lock. The door wiggles and shakes against the frame, and Ryan can tell it's not budging. "Come on, COME ON!" Shane grunts.

"That's not gonna work." Dean Winchester, the shorter of the brothers, says, "Bastard is keeping that, and all the other doors, shut. We're on lock-down."

"How did you do that?" Ryan chokes out, impressed with himself that he can say anything at all.

"Let us out." Shane rejoins Ryan, standing side-by-side.

Dean grimly laughs, "Would if I could. Last thing I want is for a couple of vloggers getting in the way."

"We were just returning a key." Ryan doesn't know what else to do, what to say.

The tallest of the trio, Sam, comes walking towards Ryan and Shane, hands held out in submission, a container of table-salt in his right, "I'm not gonna hurt you, but we need to get you guys in a safe place."

Shane isn't so convinced, "And what's 'safe', exactly?"

"Within a ring of salt." Sam answers.

"Oh, god." Shane groans, "Don't tell me- you're dealing with Demons?"

Ryan turns to his friend, "Why would you suggest that? What is wrong with you?!"

"Um, yeah." Sam grimaces, "I realize that's gonna be... a bit of a problem..."

Ryan can already begin to feel his heart race, palms sweating and legs becoming like lead, "No, this can't be real."

"We don't have time for this." James Novak says, and the sheer fact he's in the room, saying anything at all, brings Ryan that much closer to a panic attack. He doesn't even flinch when Novak uses a gun, Ryan has no clue what kind, to direct where he and Shane should go.

At the appearance of the weapon, Shane's tune changes, "You know what? Fine. Demons are real, where do you want us to stand?"

This snaps Ryan out of it, "Wait, so it takes spending five minutes with serial killers to convince you, but I can't?!"

"They have guns, Ryan. They could sell me a piece of the moon and I'd write them a check."

Ignoring the banter, Sam pours a circle of salt around the two men, "No matter what happens, stay in this circle."

"Who are you people?" Ryan asks, feeling unusually brave.

"Not what you think." Sam replies.

"We're Hunters." Dean states, chin up in pride.

"Hunters of what?" Shane asks.

"Monsters, ghosts, Demons." James Novak replies.

"And how'd you get involved?" Ryan asks Novak, "Where's your wife?"

Novak tilts his head, "The Djinn Queen?"

"They were doing a video on Jimmy, remember?" Dean says.

Ryan pales, "You- you saw the leak?"

"That you spoke of the Novaks, yes." not-Novak answers.

Annoyed, Shane goes, "If you're not James Novak, who are you?"

"Castiel. I'm- was, an Angel."

"Was." Shane nods, "So, not anymore?"

Castiel shakes his head.

"Meaning," Shane continues, "There's no way to prove with, say, magic tricks, your claims?"

"Stop needling the serial killers." Ryan hisses.

"You mean monster hunters." Shane sarcastically corrects.

"I'm sorry about my friend." Ryan announces, "He's kind of a dick."

"You don't say." Dean deadpans.

"Hey, is it true," Shane starts, "that you and Columbo over there are knockin' boots?"

Castiel stares down at his shoes, while Dean goes red and Sam sucks in a breath, trying not to laugh.

"You're insane." Ryan says to the air, unable to look at Shane.

"Might as well find out." Shane shrugs.

"Dean," says Castiel, "I apologize if, at any time during the evening, I've stepped on your toes."

Dean looks to age five years in as many seconds, "No problem, Cas."

"And that man, in there?" Shane asks, "He's just sleeping, right?"

"He was dead before he hit the ground." Castiel responds, "We never know for sure, when there’s a Demon present."

This information makes Shane falter, if only a little, "And why do only we need to be in the salt circle?"

Dean and Sam pull down their shirt collars, revealing pentagrams tattooed in black ink, just above their hearts. Castiel lifts up the hem of his shirt, revealing several lines of text written in a foreign language. "We're good. And unless one of y'all's a tattoo artist… ?" Dean says.

"No." Shane relents, "You still can't prove it, but whatever."

"You are exhausting." Ryan says.

"I'm thorough."

"Shut up, Shane."

"That's enough!" Dean barks, "We're dealing with a fucking Demon, now act like it." he glares at his two companions. As the trio resumes their work, Shane and Ryan are left in silence.

"You gonna try your phone?" Shane mutters.

"No, they've got guns." Ryan responds, "I think they can draw faster than I can dial."

After a few minutes of tense silence, Shane pats Ryan's arm, getting his attention. Turning to him, Ryan mouths 'What?' while following Shane's gaze. Down the hall, leading all the way to the back of the house, is the only other door leading outside.

It's open.

Glancing at one another, the intent is understood; at least one of them can make it out. Knowing Shane's got the longer legs, Ryan figures he'll have a better chance, so he prods at Shane's back, encouraging him to make a break for it.

Shane sprints for the door, and is at the other end of the hallway by the time the Winchesters or Castiel notice. Ryan doesn't see the trio's reactions, though, focusing on whether or not his friend escapes.

Shane opens the door wider, gets one foot on the first concrete step-

Cold air fills the room, enveloping every inch of Ryan's skin. The room grows darker, like someone's dimming down the lights. Every breath he inhales is freezing, and every exhale the same temperature. It's like Ryan's overcome with a sudden fever, left weak and in a cold sweat. Arms and legs locked in place, he can feel his heart slow...

"RYAN!"

Dean looks from one idiot to the other; the tall one that tried to leave the house, in what was obviously a trap set up by the Demon, and the second, shorter one that was in the broken salt circle, currently having a long stream of black smoke rush into his throat.

The Demon's found a new body.

"RYAN!" Shane shouts, and for all his smart-ass quips, the tall one wasn't that sharp. Perfect opportunity to get the fuck out and leave things to the pros, but he's gone and pissed that away. Dean feels his lip twitch into a smirk, realizing he'd do the same if it was his family. Hand closing around the Angel blade, his smile falters.

Ryan collapses to the ground, still as stone. Sam intercepts Shane, who tries to rush to his friend's side. "What did you do?!" Shane yells.

"Stay back!" Castiel shouts, charging forward with more salt. Dean's stomach jumps with worry at the sight of Castiel going in on his own. Old habits of being an Angel, thinking himself indestructible. Dean begins reciting the exorcism, his Latin clunky, as always. Smoke begins to spill from the corners of Ryan's mouth as Castiel approaches.

A hand suddenly lashes out, striking Castiel with such ferocity it throws the man clean across the room. Dean continues the exorcism, mind on autopilot, as he looks to see if Castiel is still in the fight. The former Angel knocked out cold, Dean turns his head just in time to see Ryan's hand extend out towards him.

"I'm tired of playing with you." the Demon smirks a toothy grim, causing Ryan's brown eyes to flash to black.

Dean feels his feet lift from the floor, and in a blur of speed, his body be thrown up against the ceiling. Pinned here, and momentarily stunned, Dean tries in vain to continue the exorcism.

"Shut up." the Demon hisses.

Dean's voice dies away. He can only watch as Sam tries to take the Demon on.

Angel blade in hand, Sam goes in, and Dean can tell Sam isn't looking for a kill shot. Swipes, stabs and arcs to distract, but none fatal. Maybe he's hoping for Castiel to wake, maybe he hopes the Demon can't concentrate on more than one Hunter at a time. It's not a bad strategy.

One slice too close to Ryan's neck makes Shane rush forward, spin Sam around, and snatch the blade from Sam's stunned hand. "What are you doing-?"

Both men are sent crashing to the floor, as the Demon steps out of the remains of the salt circle. Cracking knuckles and stretching arms, Ryan's lips curve into a smile, as Dean realizes what's coming next:

Villain monologue.

"Winchesters, your reputations proceed you." Ryan walks over to Castiel, who's starting to stir, "Here I am, with my humble, little set-up, and here you are, sticking your noses where they don't belong." He presses a boot against Castiel's neck, pinning him to the wall, "Don't you have bigger fish to fry? A God to fight?"

Castiel gasps for breath, and Dean struggles to free his arms, legs, willing any muscle to move.

"I'm a nobody." the Demon laughs, "I should be dead, right now. You all have lost your touch."

Shane slowly starts to rise from the floor, trying not to get the Demon's attention.

Ryan's head snaps in Shane's direction, "Shane! Buddy! How ya been?" with a hard kick to Castiel's head, Ryan begins to calmly walk over.

Shane tries for the door, and it looks like Sam was right; it's unlocked, and the Demon can't focus on more than a few things at a time.

With that, Dean frees his arm, can move his lips. He starts the exorcism from the top.

"WHAT DID I SAY." the Demon bellows, waving his hand towards Dean, again. This time, Dean's throat closes up.

Sam continues the exorcism from his place on the ground.

Ryan waves his hand again, throwing Sam into the room with the man's corpse.

Castiel, blood pouring out of his mouth, picks up the chant where Sam left off. The Demon is so distracted, Dean's able to get free. Bracing himself, Dean falls to the floor, and, after a few shaky seconds, joins Castiel.

Teeth clenched, veins pulsing, Ryan yells, "ENOUGH!" sending both men staggering back, falling to the ground, and then pressed up against the wall.

The front door bursts open. Dean cannot, for the life of him, believe that the tall idiot's back.

"Hey! Dumbass!" Shane calls.

The Demon turns to look at him.

Dean, thinking he's seen it all, and can't be surprised anymore, tonight, feels his jaw drop.

"Do you want to di-" Ryan starts, just before Shane douses him with a water gun.

The screams coming from Ryan are simply inhuman. Smoke rises from his skin, as he covers his face. The air, already pungent with sulfur, becomes insufferable.

Sam staggers from the back room, finishing the exorcism.

A rush of smoke exits through Ryan's mouth, the pained scream still echoing off of the walls. And then-

-silence.

Shane considers the squirt gun in his hand, then looks back up at the trio of Hunters staring at him. "It's- it's filled with holy water." he gestures to an unconscious Ryan, "His idea."

"So, you're really monster hunters?" Shane asks, wincing at the alcohol being applied to his scraped knees. They were the worst of the gashes on him, sustained when the Demon threw Sam on top of him.

"Yes." Sam replies, taking a bandage from the Impala's first aid kit. Shane had gotten Ryan, who was still out, in the rental car, and parked that just behind the Chevy. Everyone is now taking a breather before parting ways.

"So, not serial killers?"

"No."

Shane pauses, "Sorry, about taking your knife. I just didn't want you stabbing my friend."

"You ended up saving all of us, so I think we're square." Sam looks over to the open trunk lid, behind which Dean and Castiel were securing the corpse the Demon had initially possessed.

"Ryan's gonna be unbearable when he wakes, you know." Shane says, "'Ooh! Demons are real! We don't have it on camera, but it happened!'"

"Will you keep doing the show?" Sam asks, trying not to sound too eager.

"Probably. Ryan'll want to catch lightning in a bottle twice, but never do another Demon location, again."

"You sound disappointed."

Shane shrugs, "It's fun seeing him scared."

Sam shakes his head.

"So," Shane begins, "You watch the show."

"... maybe."

"How many of the places we visit are actually haunted?"

Sam thinks, "Most were, but we, or other Hunters we know, cleared 'em."

"Huh."

After saying their goodbyes, and with the understanding that no one would believe Ryan and Shane if they tried to profit off of their Demon encounter, the two groups part ways. The Hunter trio climb back into the Impala, but not before Dean throws Sam the keys.

"I'm spent." Dean explains, "You take over for a while." Dean also opens the back door for Castiel, but only when he thinks Sam isn't watching. Dean crawls in after him, and does everything he can to not meet Sam's eyes in the mirror.

It's a half hour later, when on the highway, heading towards the Bunker, that Dean tries to make amends.

"Cas-" Dean starts, voice just above a whisper.

Castiel grabs his hand, both are dried and crusted with blood, "I'm sorry." he mouths, "For everything."

"No." Dean fails to keep the break out of his voice, "I'm sorry. You're family, Cas. Nothing's gonna change that."

Castiel looks away, and Dean knows from personal experience what he's trying to hide.

"I miss Jack." Comes Castiel's broken sob.

Dean squeezes his hand, "I know. I do, too. I should've done more."

"We should have." Castiel corrects.

They sit together in a bittersweet silence. The car interior is dark, the rumbling of the road beneath their feet thunderous, and Sam's eyes on the road. Dean and Castiel are in their own little world.

"I love you." the words spill from Dean's mouth before he can stop them, and funny enough, he doesn't regret it, or treat it like a mistake. It's been years in the making, really. And when Castiel looks back at him, eyes wide with wonder, and more than a little red from fatigue, Dean just brings their joined hands up to his lips, and gives the back of Castiel's palm a gentle kiss. Castiel leans in, meeting Dean forehead-to-forehead, "I love you, too."

Shane's pulling up to the hotel parking lot when Ryan finally wakes.

"Ugh, god." Ryan rubs at his eyes, "What a fuckin' nightmare."

Shane puts the car in park, turning off the engine, "What do ya mean, buddy?"

Ryan looks over at Shane, then around the rest of the car, "Wait, didn't we go by the Wyatt house, and drop off some keys?"

"Yep."

"And I was driving."

"Uh-huh."

Ryan blinks, "Did I hit my head or something?"

"No, we met up with serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester, along with missing person James Novak, and took on a Demon. You got possessed."

Ryan's face screws up in disbelief, "Very funny, asshat."

"No!" Shane insists, "It really happened."

"Bullshit."

"Then, what was your nightmare about?"

"Getting chased by a rabid Paddington." Ryan replies, his eyes glazed over in a haunted stare.

Shane throws his hands up, "Fine, we’ll go with that."

________________________________________________________________

Thank you!! For reading!! ♥♥♥

#SPN #Buzzfeed: Unsolved #crossovers #fanfic #writiers #writing #Dean #Cas #Destiel #Sam #Pray for Sammy #Ryan Bergara #Shane Madej #RPF #AO3 #S14 Spoilers

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jbuffyangel · 5 years

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It Ain't Nothing but a Family Thing: Arrow 7x17 Review (Inheritance)

“Inheritance” is equal parts necessary exposition and filler episode. Not quite sure how the writers accomplished that, but they did.

Let’s dig in…

Emiko and Oliver

Soooo… here’s the problem guys. I don’t really care about Emiko. The whole time I’m watching this plot line unfold I am thinking, “Couldn’t Thea have gone all evil?”

Take a pause and give that a good think. How awesome would it have been for Thea to take a deep dive down the evil hole? It would have been amazing, which is why I loudly demanded it for the six years Willa Holland was on the show.

Watching Oliver try to pull Thea away from the Ninth Circle would have been a good time.

Not so much with Replacement Thea. The problem is I just met Emiko this season. I understand that’s typically the case when it comes to Arrow villains, but I’m supposed to bond with her character as Oliver’s sister and then be horrified when she turns out to be a villain.

Arrow even tried to fast track my bonding by making Emiko into Oliver 2.0. I’m not really seeing the individualism except for evil. Every week the writers were hanging a sign out that said, “SEE? SHE’S JUST LIKE OLIVER!” by mimicking previous OG Oliver Queen scenes. Just in case you missed any of the visual cues or copied verbatim scenes, the other characters are here to verbally proclaim Emiko is just like her brother.

Eh… keep it. Unfortunately, none of this has accomplished Arrow’s intended goal which is for me to give a crap about Emiko.

It should be noted that when Arrow does the “SEE? SHE’S JUST LIKE OLIVER” with Mia or “SEE? HE’S JUST LIKE FELICITY!” with William (and vice versus) I love it. Yes, I am aware this is a double standard. Maybe it’s because the kids have more personality than cardboard. Sorry Emiko. Facts are facts. Maybe it’s because they are Olicity’s kids and therefore my investment is virtually guaranteed. I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s Season 7 and I’m gonna do me.

The only thing keeping me mildly entertained with Emiko is that she is evil. I’m not really interested in watching her be redeemed either. I know I know. The season theme is redemption, but come on! Someone has to burn in the fires of Hades for all eternity. It doesn’t mean anything if every character is redeemed.

Typically, I am down for Robert Queen flashbacks whenever possible, but in order to make this storyline work they had to turn Oliver’s father into a tremendous pile of stinking douchebag. Robert was always kind of a douchebag what with the whole killing a man by accident, lying about it and then getting embroiled in Merlyn’s plot to destroy half the city because of his guilt.

But he had gravitas. The class of an elder statesman. Maybe it’s the silver hair and grumbly grandpa voice I pray Oliver Queen will have some day. Maybe it’s because he put a bullet in his head to save his son. Annnnd… also murdered someone else in the process. Alright. Robert was a douchebag, but he was a mildly noble douchebag and I love him okay? I DON’T KNOW WHY!

But the Robert Queen in “Inheritance” is a misogynistic, slimy, cheating, coward who kicks his mistress and love child out of the swanky apartment he was putting them up at and tells his daughter, “Life isn’t fair. We don’t always get what we want.” Wow.

That’s a great way to create a villain, Robert. Watch Batman or Star Wars or ANY HERO STORY EVER and learn fool.

Emiko worked hard to get her father’s approval or acknowledgement of her existence to the world. She wanted to run Queen Consolidated, but nope that’s a man’s job sweetie. Oliver Queen and his penis, which was whoring its way through Starling City at the time, are destined for CEO. Emiko takes Robert’s misogyny in stride and simply asks him to back a company of her own, but he balks at that too. This is the last straw in a very long line of straws.

Unfortunately, Emiko doesn’t tell her father where to stick it and cut off all contact. No, that would be reasonable. Instead, she decides to go super villain on him. She impresses Dante after stealing from him and he agrees to train her. Emiko vacillates between being a Queen and joining the Ninth Circle for years, but the final brush off from Robert is the tipping point. She decides Dante is right and the Ninth Circle is her real family.

Oliver follows Emiko after Bl*ck S*ren warns she may not be playing for the home team and he sees her with Dante. Oliver confronts Emiko and she sings some song and dance about not knowing who the real Dante was when she signed up with him. Now she’s trapped. It works. Oliver buys it hook line and sinker, because blindly ignoring blatant warning signs is what he does when it comes to the Queen family.

He smartens up once he figures out Emiko sabotaged Felicity’s Archer program to protect Dante’s location. DO NOT MESS WITH THE WIFEY’S TOYS.

Oliver and Emiko face off in a fight that’s a lot about her ponytail. It had a life of its own.

Sadly, this is one of the worst fights I’ve seen in Arrow’s history. I really hope Sea Shimooka isn’t taking acting tips from KC, because it sure looks like it.

WHO IS SHE LOOKING AT? I’m not putting all the blame at her feet. Stephen upped his cheese factor about ten notches too. The whole scene felt awkward, choppy and forced.

Source: smoakmonster

Diggle sits Oliver down for a much needed Yoda talk. John warns him not to be so invested in Emiko’s redemption that he ignores the threat she poses. Ah yes, the evil sibling plot line also happened in Season 4 with Diggle and Andy.

Yeesh, alright it’s time for this show to end. John’s need to save his brother ultimately cost L*urel her life and he doesn’t want Oliver to make the same mistake.

It’s time you left yourself off the hook on that one, Diggle.

It was all win from where I sat, so stop being so hard on yourself.

UGH. I tell the man to be Jesus and then he starts acting like Jesus!!! The nerve. Oliver, being a fully realized superhero doesn’t mean you save EVERYONE. Jesus didn’t save every – never mind. The point is, after seven seasons, now the pine tree listens to me? He could’ve popped the question in Season 3 and I’d be on my way to a second set of triplets, but nooooo.

Oliver wants to redeem Emiko because then it means he’s redeemed the family in some way.

Source: olivergifs

Why isn’t enough that you’ve redeemed yourself Oliver? You’re a Queen. You count. Yes, you were a massive douchebag once upon a time, but you stopped sleeping with Lance sisters (thank God), fell in love with sunshine, and embraced monogamy & commitment like the squishy teddy bear with abs we always knew you were. You also fight for the city, save lives, and cook your pregnant wife yummy veggies to munch on. You’re evolved dude. Cut yourself a break. And Thea isn’t exactly the Mistress of Satan. She’s off saving the world too. Two out of three ain’t bad.

This whole “Right my wrongs” needs clarification. First it was the list, but it morphed into saving the Glades. Then Tommy died and things kind of snowballed. So, how many wrongs are we talking Bobby? Let’s get specific. We’ve only got 15 episodes left. Did you sell Iran nuclear weapons? Use Moira’s toothbrush and not tell her? Steal candy from babies? Are there a dozen more Robert Queen kiddos intent on world destruction?

Time is a wasting. I have a spin off coming and it needs to not be about your bullshit man.

Team Arrow ultimately foils Emiko’s plan. Well… kind of. They miss one drone, but no worries! It was just a demonstration. They’re worried about the next time, when it’s not a demonstration, but I was more focused on the few extra tidbits delivered in the final moments of the episode

Not only does Emiko choose the Ninth Circle, she is their leader.

She is also targeting the Archer program, which means nothing good for Oliver, Felicity and their children. Despite, my frustrations with Emiko’s character I am glad they are tying this all back to Robert and the Queens. Family is where this story began and it’s where it should end.

Dante gave Emiko a gift when she was struggling between being a Queen or joining the Ninth Circle. It was the most hilariously unrealistic looking invoice from Merlyn Global, but it showed the location of the bombs on the Queen’s Gambit. Emiko knew about Merlyn’s plan and she could have saved her father’s life if she simply passed on the information at their meeting. But he rejected her once more, so Emiko sent Robert to his death and unknowingly condemned her brother to five years of hell. Damn.

What Emiko doesn’t realize is that by keeping quiet about the bombs on the Queen’s Gambit she helped set her brother on a path to become someone who can stop her. In the immortal words of Leo McGarry, “ "It ain't nothing but a family thing.”

Felicity Smoak

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Felicity wins Walter White.

This is something many fans have been saying for years, including yours truly, so I am quite happy the writers agree.

Felicity continues to slay at all three, but a key part to “having it all” is knowing when you need help. Felicity asks her friend Alena to join the company as CTO. Look how excited this human rainbow is. She melts my heart.

Source: felicittysqueen

Unfortunately, I don’t really trust Alena. Yes, I know she’s helped Felicity in the past, but I still feel uneasy about her. Perhaps that distrust is unnecessary and her interactions with Felicity will continue to be adorable and on the up and up. But Archer is corrupted somehow in the future and I’m keeping an eye on Alena in present day.

Concerns aside, I did have myself a petty little cackle. Technically speaking, Felicity had a built in CTO for Smoak Tech on Team Arrow – Curtis Holt. Instead, the writers ship him off to D.C. and bring in Alena who, shady or not, is far preferable to Curtis. I just didn’t think Beth would agree with me. She’s like friggin Santa Claus.

The biggest issue I had with the spinal technology was it didn’t really connect to the Team Arrow storyline. A character feels isolated on their own show whenever that happens. My concern was Felicity’s great individual storyline was going to cut her off from the action.

The genius of this season, and the retooling of Felicity’s company, is the writers have found a way to weave it in with the vigilante storyline. Smoak Tech no longer feels like an island they are placing Felicity on, but rather it permeates almost every facet of the show – both past and present. This means Felicity permeates every facet of the show.

Last, but certainly not least, Felicity continues to be a bad ass wife as she manages more Queen family drama. The man is an Adonis who cooks, but oy does he come with family baggage. At least, Oliver’s reaction to this type of drama is predictable and Felicity doesn’t miss a beat.

When he comes back from the field empty handed Felicity knows immediately how to make him smile.

Source: olicitygifs

She tells Oliver he’s hot. That’s it. That’s how Felicity cheers him up.

He compartmentalizes and hyper focuses on stopping Emiko, but Felicity tells Oliver to take a beat and process.

Source: olicitygifs

Of course, Oliver ignores her and becomes frustrated with the team when they aren’t moving fast enough. So, Felicity tells him to cool it.

He ignores her AGAIN, but at least we are blessed with this glorious response.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Where has this gif been for the last seven years? If Oliver is going to be a stubborn ass then at the very least his wife is going to drag him for it with some patented Felicity Smoak snark.

I think Felicity and Diggle have a system for deciding who talks to Oliver. Maybe it depends on circumstance. Diggle seems like the obvious choice because he had an evil sibling too. Maybe they rock paper scissors. Whatever the system, it was Diggle talking down their boy this week.

We did, however, get some quality husband and wife crime fighting team work. YOUR OTP WOULD NEVER.

Source: olivergifs

After a long day of supporting her husband, incubating their child and stopping criminals, Felicity returns to the loft to work on Archer with Alena. And this was a light Felicity Smoak episode. Damn. Queen of DCTV is right.

Sweet holy Moses, how are we going to do ten episodes without her?

I love Oliver Queen. He is my favorite character, but I think we can all agree Felicity Smoak makes him infinitely more tolerable. Oliver can be stubborn, grumpy pine tree left to his own devices. Hopefully, he’s evolved enough that all of Felicity’s hard work doesn’t go down the tubes the moment they are separated. He is supposed to be Jesus now. I think Slabside is evidence it won’t, but ten episodes without Felicity Smoak feels like a daunting task. It feels like climbing a mountain...

only to get stabbed in the chest and chucked off the edge once we reach the top.

Bl*ck S*ren

BS decides to follow Emiko and gets spliced with an arrow because she sucks at covert ops.

Source: nyssaalghl

She goes to Olicity’s apartment to speak to Felicity about her Emiko suspicions, but unfortunately the wifey isn’t home. Bl*ck S*ren turns to leave when she realizes the only person available to discuss her suspicions with is Oliver. I believe there's 0% chance of L*urel falling in love with Oliver and 99.99% chance she's already in love with Felicity.

Not to be outdone, Oliver offers to bandage up her bleeding wound. He takes out antibiotic and gauze and SETS. IT. ON. THE. KITCHEN. COUNTER.

It’s a very large kitchen counter too, so it creates the wide berth these two require to stand being in a room together.

Source: nyssaalghl

We’ve gone from main love interest to stay on your side of the room. I died.

I don’t know how we got here family, but we’re here and it’s fabulous.

The writers are more anti L*uriver than I am, which is an impressive level of hate - if I’m being honest.

I need to put on a sweater whenever Stephen and KC film a scene because brr it’s cold!

The L*uriver fans expecting sexy bandage time must have been deeply disappointed. Or at least the two fans left were deeply disappointed.

Of course, Oliver doesn’t believe BS because duh. My dog could’ve called that one. He tells her to mind her own business and pretty much kicks her out the apartment. Obviously, L*urel is right about Emiko, but Oliver telling her to shove it never gets old under any circumstances.

Then Dinah accuses her of murdering a witness

Source: nyssaalghl

and L&urel is righteously indignant.

Of course, L*urel is right. It’s not like she has ever murdered before. Why on earth would anyone ever think that?

Dinah even has the nerve to bring up her dead boyfriend again. She really needs to let this Vince thing go because L*urel played lawyer for the last seven months and helped get Oliver out of a jail. See? All better.

BS is redeemed now, so Dinah really needs to stop bitching. Arrow is my life tutor, so following that same logic I’m going to murder a baby and then buy a puppy because it will even the cosmic balance.

The best moment is when Emiko releases images of Savior of the World L*urel L*nce meeting with Ricardo Diaz.

Source: nyssaalghl

It’s going to be pretty tough for BS to keep up the pretense she is law abiding, justice yielding District Attorney L&urel L*nce when she’s hanging out with one of Star City’s most notorious criminals. I take it back. Emiko is awesome.

Of course, I’m not delusional enough to believe Arrow is going to give BS an arc that actually qualifies as redemptive. Helping Felicity was a good start, but it doesn’t wipe the slate clean for me. Not by a long shot. Neither does being a fake lawyer. I would like to see L*urel pay for her crimes the same way Oliver paid for his by going to PRISON, but I doubt the writers will give me that much Christmas. I am very curious to see how “Lost Canary” shakes out. That said, I have very little doubt BS will betray her one true love.

Stray Thoughts

“Which doesn’t mean she’s bad.” I told you Olicity wouldn’t care Emiko killed Diaz. They brought the marshmallows to his bonfire party.

“On your own.” Stephen read that line super diva and it cracked me up.

“Being a father is more than just blood.” I hate to agree with a villain but damn he’s right.

Every time Felicity touches her stomach I happy clap. Source: olicitygifs

L*urel’s shoulder pads have to be stopped. Just say no wardrobe department.

Forcing me to go without this adorableness for an additional ten episodes is not oka. I’ll go through Felicity Smoak withdrawal which is hazardous. Source: ebett

Does Emiko visiting her father’s grave make a damn bit of sense now that we know she played a role in his death? Nope. Didn’t think so.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x17 gifs credited.

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