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sahsoosahku · 3 years

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FanFic - Chaos Commencing at Konoha's Korean BBQ

On their night off the Konoha gang get back together for some Korean BBQ! But knowing these ninja's - something is bound to go seriously wrong. Poor Ino and Tenten, their organised night was ruined by Soju Sasuke and Drunk Lee.

Characters: Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Shikamaru, Choji, Ino, Sai, Lee, Tenten, Hinata, Kiba, Akamaru, Shino, Drunk Lee, Charasuke

Pairings: Sasusaku / SaiIno / Naruhina

______________________________________________

This only happens once in a blue moon!

The gang is back together!

Somehow all of Team 7s classmates aren't on any missions or busy for just one night. Naruto, Sasuke, Kiba and Shikamaru just returning from their weeklong mission, and late tomorrow Hinata, Sakura and Sai leave for 2 days.

Tonight, they reunite for some babbling, eating, and of course drinking.

Ino and Tenten organised for this rowdy bunch to relax in front of an open flame for some Korean BBQ at Konoha's finest. Ensuring there were 12 seats ready to go, Tenten smiled at the display before her.

One by one familiar faces rolled in. Sai, greeting Ino with a peck, Choji appearing from the corner as if he was already in the restaurant. Hinata, Shino, Shikamaru and Kiba with Akamaru soon followed, bowing their heads and thanking the ladies for their thoughtfulness and hard work.

"HEY!" Kiba yelled soon after "Where is Akamaru going to sit?"

"You know dogs can't be here!" Retorted Ino.

Kiba responded with a puppy dog frown then winked over at Akamaru who burst into smoke becoming a carbon copy of Kiba. "Sit! Sit here Akamaru!" He leaped into a seat Shino was just about to take.

And then finally, team 7 (who are always late), burst in with Naruto's "WOW! THIS IS GREAT! The Genin's are back together!"

"Speak for yourself, Naruto" laughed Shikamaru.

"Oh yeah" frowned Naruto, looking over at Sasuke, knowing at least he wasn't the last Genin there.

"Wait a minute-" Sakura searched "Where's Lee?"

"He is somewhere training" brushed off Tenten "He always adds another thousand something finger push ups before a big meal, don't worry, he'll be here soon!"

Sasuke and Sakura took the last paired spots beside Ino and Sai, Naruto trying to squish into the booth with them.

"HEY! NARUTO! Just what are you doing!" Yelled Sakura, who was sitting on the edge trying to push him off. "But I want to sit with you guyssss!" he sulked leaning on Sakura.

"We were just on a mission together Usuratoncachi-" scowled Sasuke, pushing Naruto's face off of Sakura "Go sit with your wife!"

"But she let me!" He pouted looking at her for confirmation, Hinata nodding with a smile and polite wave.

"NOW!" Kicked Sakura.

And with a frown he leapt to Hinata and whinged "NOW THAT THEY ARE TOGETHER, THEY DON'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME ANYMOREEEEE!"

"It's ok Naruto-kun" patted Hinata, "I can feed you some pork belly!"

"Did someone say Pork belly?" Interjected Choji, munching on the sides.

And with a smile Naruto hugged Hinata tightly and filled her face with kisses repeating "Ah I missed you!" "You're the best Hinata!" "I love you so much!" Then blowing a raspberry at Sakura and Sasuke.

They looked on with blank faces, embarrassed for their irritating teammate.

"Can I sit here? Thanks Shino!" Naruto rushed - half his butt cheek already shoving Shino off - forcing everyone to shuffle around. "How troublesome" sighed Shikamaru and everyone laughed.

"Let's order!" Smiled Tenten and Choji cheered along. "Let's also make it 10 bottles of Soju and a beer for everyone, does that sound good?"

______________________________________________

The sizzling kobe beef and pork belly were barely heard over the sound of laughter and chatter. Sasuke, mainly silent, munched away at his Kimchi and seafood pancake.

"Sasuke-kun! You barely touched your beer" smiled Ino, already a few shots of soju in. "Here let me pour you some soju, it's grape flavoured!"

"He is a light drinker!" Insisted Sakura, also a few drinks in "He can stick to his beer"

"Wow Sasuke! I see who wears the pants in this relationship" Ino teased, embarrassing a somewhat intoxicated Sakura.

"I-" Sasuke began.

"HEY, WATCH IT! Before I fry you on this grill myself INOPIG" Jumped up Sakura with a fist ready to go.

"I'm just saying! C'mon I know he has never tried soju before, isn't that right Sasuke?" Ino purred grabbing a shot glass to make him a drink.

"I haven't-" Again Sasuke said trying to get a word in.

"HEY! If anyone is going to be pouring him a drink, IT'S ME" scowled Sakura.

"OI! I am the one who offered" growled Ino back.

"Go make your own boyfriend a drink!" Jumped Sakura over Sasuke, trying to grab the shot glass and bottle from Ino's hands.

"Sai- doesn't- mind-!" she said fighting Sakura for grip.

"I don't mind sharing my girlfriend!" smiled Sai from behind Ino.

"See! Now- let- me- pour-!"

As the girls where wrestling each other over an irritated Sasuke, he tsked and snatched the soju bottle from their hands and quickly shot up.

To everyone's amazement he threw beck 6 long gulps, finishing the bottle. And with a scrunched face he smacked his lips and frowned "it's sweet"

Shocked, everyone looked over. Sakura, frightened by the amount of alcohol a cheap drunk like Sasuke just drank, she carefully whispered to him "Sasuke… Soju is not like beer… it's a lot stronger…"

Sasuke sat down slowly and burped "I feel fine"

The onlookers giggled and whispered, "I wonder which drunk Sasuke we are going to see tonight" "Happy again?" "Sad?" "Angry" "Oo- I hope is dancy" "No- no- SINGY! Then we can go to karaoke!"

"Hey, Akamaru eat up" smiled Kiba, feeding his twin. Then..

BANG!

Sasuke's face slammed down into his food.

"I guess it's a passed out Sasuke" sighed Shikamaru. A tipsy Naruto burst out laughing, followed by a howling from the other boys.

"Oh no" sighed Sakura, trying to pull Sasuke up "I told you he can't hold his liquor"

Ino apologised grabbing tissues and moving his plates aside to make room for a sleeping Sasuke. "Is he going to be alright?"

"His vitals feel fine, but he usually blacks out after 2 or 3 beers… Maybe I should take him home?"

Nooo! Everyone replied urging her to stay. It was too rare to have everyone together again.

She wiped his face and slowly put him back down on the table for a nap.

______________________________________________

The night carried on, bringing laughing tears into the eyes of anyone who remembered that Sasuke was there.

"Just like back in the day I suppose" Chuckled Kiba, "Not hearing a word from Sasuke!"

"HEY!" Naruto responded and Sakura giggled. "Just like the old days" she recalled. Oh, the silly antics Team 7 and the others used to get into.

Almost done with their meals an excited Lee blazed in with his legs up and hands to the floor. With a flip he announced "HELLO MY FELLOW BRETHREN'S LIVING IN THE SPRINGTIME OF THEIR YOUTHS! I, ROCK LEE, AM READY TO ENJOY A HEARTY MEAL WITH PALS!"

"Lee!" The drunken crowd cheered, for once meeting his enthusiasm.

"Where were you, Lee? We are almost done!" Asked Tenten, blinking slowly.

"My apologies Tenten! I just finished training; I lost my count 3 times at around 700 so I started again! And with every time I miscounted, I added another 1000!" He beamed too proudly.

"Seems a bit excessive" she sighed making the others laugh.

"Ah I am famished! I do desperately need a glass of water!" And with the slip of a hand Lee grabbed the bottle of soju rather than the jug of water right beside it.

NooooOooOooO

Everyone yelled in slow motion jumping for Lee, but no one could match his incredulous speed. By the time Naruto, Choji, Kiba and Shikamaru were pulling back his arms and hands, the empty bottle shattered to the ground.

"Oh no-" said Tenten

"Fuck" muttered Shikamaru as Lee slipped out of their hands.

He reappeared beside an unsuspecting Sakura, wobbling beside her and with a drunken smile. He blabbered "Hey, girl, wasssuppppp"

Freaked out Sakura wailed "Eeehh?! Knock it off Lee!" trying to push him off.

Shikamaru tried the Shadow Imitation Technique but somehow Lee's speedy feet just kept missing him.

"C'mon give me a little sugar" he mused to Sakura sending her air kisses while easily dodging her punches.

...

There was a shift in mood.

Suddenly the air turned sinister.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" Grumbled Lee.

Behind Sakura was a dark shadow looming over them. "Back off" growled Sasuke, preparing his Chakra.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the guy who copied my Taijutsu!" Spat Lee, almost tripping over his own feet.

"And I was better at it" slurred Sasuke.

"Now, now, calm down!" Sakura pleaded standing between them.

"I CHALLENGE YOU!" Pointed Lee.

"YEAH, WELL TRY ME BROWS!" Pointed Sasuke back.

"OH YEAH"

"YEAH"

Lee grabbed another bottle of soju from the poor people behind him to arm himself. Sasuke did the same snatching another bottle from Sai's hand.

Sasuke activated his Sharingan ready to copy, ready for battle.

And Lee with a smile prepared his greatest weapon –

- guzzling the soju.

Sasuke mirrored his actions, trying to beat the speed of the other. Finishing at the same time they extravagantly threw their bottles on the table smashing and spraying it onto a grill, causing a minor flame.

Everyone was mortified, and in shock Hinata and Ino quickly threw water on the grills to extinguish the fire.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo"

Cried Choji, watching the meat bubble and sear in the coals.

"Haha a worthy opponent!" cackled Lee.

"Let's take this outside!" Hiccuped Sasuke.

"I guess Sasuke is an angry drunk on soju" Naruto commented following the crowd outside.

...

"…And on my birthday" sighed a wet Shino, covered in spilled water from the glass attack. Hinata still by his side smiled and said, "I didn't forget your birthday Shino."

*Poof* They turned to Akamaru reappearing beside a wailing Choji crying over ruined beef. "WHYYY!"

"HEY" screamed the shocked hostess "NO DOGS!"

______________________________________________

Lee and Sasuke stood before each other on the open street. Civilians passed by whispering and watching the ensuing mayhem.

"WE WILL FIGHT FOR SAKURA'S LOVE!" Exclaimed Lee.

"Ew" Sakura loudly thought.

"FOR SAKURA'S LOVE!" yelled Sasuke, confident in reply.

"Not you too... Sasuke" everyone sighed.

Everyone pleaded for them to stop but a powerful Lee interjected "This is between me and Sasuke!"

Both men began to prepare to fight. Lee unlocking his third gate yelling "DRUNKEN FISTS" and Sasuke replying with "MANGEKYO SHARINGAN"

"WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS DESTROYED OUR GRILLS!?" Yelled the hostess with a swinging ladle in one hand and dragging Akamaru out with the other. Shino, Hinata, and Choji appeared behind her.

As everyone pointed towards Sasuke and Lee, the two drunkards used it as a signal to start charging towards one another.

AHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

they both yelled and bracing themselves.

AHHHHHHHH-

AHHHHHH-

THUD.

CRASH.

SPLAT.

EEEHHHHHH!? Reacted everyone seeing both Lee and Sasuke trip over themselves.

"CHOJI NOW! SHADOW IMITATION TECHNIQUE" prepared Shikamaru, strapping Lee down at any chance he could get. "EXPANSION JUSTSU" Choji formed and rolled onto Lee.

"Sakura!" Ino yelled "RUN!"

Sakura quickly pulled a passed out Sasuke over her shoulders and began to sprint home hearing the echo "YOU TWO ARE BANNED FOR LIFE...!" follow her down the road.

"HEY WHATS THE BIG IDEA!" Cried Lee.

Amongst the current chaos Sai turned to Ino smiling "What a fun night!" You did a great job!" he said earnestly. Ino groaned into her palm.

"Oh Yeah!" Blurted Kiba, "Happy Birthday Shino!"

_____________________________________________________

I love the silly antics the gang gets into. I hope you enjoyed my story, if you did please leave a review on:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13943114/1/Chaos-Commencing-at-Konoha-s-Korean-BBQ

Drunk Lee is the best and always has me dying from laughter. I found most of my inspiration from this episode of "Rock Lee and his Ninja Pals"(Drunk Lee Ruins Tsunade's Picnic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqnz3v_vsRY).

I wanted to start a series of Sakura dealing with drunk Sasuke and was inspired by this comic strip: ( https://www.instagram.com/p/CFcE6NcFvX6/ ) I really wanted to showcase the multiple personalities Sasuke has depending on the amount and type of alcohol he drinks. In a later SASUSAKU smut chapter, soju Sasuke becomes Charasuke which I was trying to allude in the line "Fight for Sakura's love." I just thought it would be hilarious to combine Drunk Lee and Charasuke in a fight.

Also third wheel Naruto get me going as well. In my mind, he instantly reacquainted himself with Hinata after the mission (if you know what I mean) and being Shino's birthday, Hinata wanted to spend the night with her team mates, encouraging him to third wheel the two love birds.

I hope you guys enjoyed my story! Stay tuned for part 2.

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atsukashii · 4 years

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❝back again❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ When pro hero ground zero destroys your shop trying to take down a villain, you don’t hesitate to curse him out. What you don’t expect though, is for him to come back again the next day.

» CHARACTER PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

» WORD COUNT: 5K cause I have no self control

» GENRE: pro-hero!katsuki, aged up characters

» WARNINGS: swearing of course, fluff, fluff, and oop surprise more fluff,

» PROMPT: lilac - “if you don’t kiss me right this second i swear”

« masterlist || ao3 »

Anonymous: can i get uuuuhh ‘lilas’ with pretty boy katsuki 🥺💕💕

a/n: hell yes you can! I went a bit overboard with this request but I hope you love it! Also i’m running off the non-canon idea that Katsuki’s hero name is Ground Zero here.

Pro Hero Ground-Zero is an asshole. He’s an attractive one, but an asshole nonetheless. The explosive blonde was the hero on patrol this morning, when a villain decided to attack some old lady in the middle of the street. Ground Zero fought the villain and left behind a crater in his wake. One you are currently staring at, steam almost coming out of your ears. Because that crater consisted of half of your flower shop.

Are you fucking kidding me? You hear the news reporters behind you, talking to their cameramen about what went down on this normally quiet street.

“This morning, Pro Hero Ground Zero successfully defeated a villain known to police as ‘FrostBite’. The villain has been responsible for many civilian attacks recently, he’s been linked to a heist just three days ago, which saw the criminals get away with over fourteen thousand…” You tune out the reporter's voice as you step back into your shop, through the gaping hole that was once your front exterior wall. Great, this is so fucking what I needed right now, you think.

This whole shit fest is the icing on an already bad cupcake. It started when a woman had come into the store just last week, complaining about your goods. Which caused such a ruckus that an inspector was called, only for him to find some bullshit excuse that had stopped you from selling coffee’s in your hybrid cafe/flower shop momentarily. Add on top of that the fact that you are currently in your final semester of university and you’re about to sit your final exams in literally three days. The word stressed does not even come close to describing your inner turmoil right now.

“-and here he is now! Ground Zero! Can you give us any information about what happened today?” The reporter asks.

“A villain got what he fucking deserved, the end.” A deep voice says from behind you, and you just know it’s him. Clenching your fists, you resist the urge to turn around and scream at the man. What about what you deserved? You look around your store once more and stifle a whimper at all the damage; crumbling walls, plants scattered across the floor, pots shattered and your precious neon sign. Broken. You kneel down and pick up the now dull yellow neon light and feel your eyes begin to sting. This shop had been your dream since you were a little girl, and now it was torn apart by a villain.

“I do my job, and I do it well. Write that in your fucking paper.” The hero reiterates again. Pure fury floods your brain until you are seeing red. Spinning around, your eyes focus onto the battered hero and the flawless reporter, and suddenly, all you want to do is scream. Your mouth begins moving before your brain can follow and say it's a bad idea.

“You do your job well?!” You hiss at them. Everyone’s attention moves from the asshole hero to you, your apron covered in dirt and rubble from when your front wall crumbled right in front of you, because a villain was physically thrown through it.

“You destroyed my store!” Ground Zero’s face flushes red in anger as he stares at you with his scarlet eyes. If you weren’t so mad, you could maybe appreciate how handsome he is, but currently you can see too much damage - expensive damage - to even think like that.

“That villain was a threat to society, he got what he deserved. You should be thanking me, you damn extra!”

“Thanking you? You left a DAMN HOLE IN MY FUCKING STORE!” You scream at Ground Zero. “And what about what I deserve? I don’t deserve to have to pay for all of these fucking damages that you caused!” The anger seeps out of you as you look at the small crowd around your store, gawking at you. You can’t imagine that this is a normal response for heroes to get from civilians. What a mess…

“Y/n!” A voice interrupts the crowd and you look to the right where someone is pushing through the mass of people slowly, to get into the store. The second your best friend & work colleague see’s the damage, she lets out a sad sigh and looks your way.

“Oh sweety…” you hold up your hand, making them stop from walking in.

“There’s broken glass everywhere. Let me clean up first,” You whisper, suddenly ashamed of your outburst. Ground Zero had been doing a civil duty, and you’d just jumped on his case about the damage he caused? Good one y/n, real smooth. Turning your back on the hero and the crowd, you weave around smashed pots and dead plants, reaching behind the counter for the broom you keep there and begin to sweep up the mess. You can hear the group begin to disperse, but can’t get rid of the feeling that someone is watching you. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes lock onto the vermilion gaze of the upcoming hero, known for his brash attitude towards reporters. Your breath catches in your throat as his intense stare seems to look into you more deeply than anyone ever has. Like he’s analysing your very being and everything about you. You shift away from him, grabbing the plastic rubbish bags you leave next to the till for the frequent mishaps that happen in your store, and you get to cleaning.

What a mess.

❀ ❀ ❀

For the past two nights since your shop was damaged, you’ve been crashing with your best friend who deemed it unsafe for you to stay at your apartment located above the partially destroyed store. You didn’t have the energy to argue against them at the time, so now as you walk down the main street towards your shop, you’re thinking about how strange it is that you need to travel to get to work. At least it's a sunny day, so surely this has to mean something good... You hope.

But as you round the corner convenience store on your block, you stop in your tracks. In front of your pathetically boarded up store, stands a tall man in black jeans and a matching jumper, the hood pulled up over his head. Because that’s not suspicious at all. Unfortunately, he’s leaning up against your front door, so you’re going to have to at least ask him to move.

“Uh, excuse me?” His head whips towards you, and your gaze immediately locks onto the ash blonde hair that peeks out from under the hood, and the matching eyebrows partially hidden by his dark sunglasses. It’s him, Ground Zero. Here. At my store. You don’t have the drive like you did the other day to be mad, so instead you keep walking towards your store with a raised eyebrow aimed at the pro hero.

“Shouldn’t you be patrolling somewhere Ground Zero?” You ask the man as you approach. He shifts away from the door, but doesn’t move far, allowing you to use your keys to unlock it. Not that locking the door would do anything to deter intruders considering there’s a fucking hole where the almost floor to ceiling windows once stood.

“It’s my day off.” Now that you’re not overcome with rage towards the man, you can appreciate the deep tone to his voice. One so alluring it sends chills down your spine. Do not go there, seriously y/n. No, it doesn't matter that you’re not mad, he’s still an ass.

“Good for you.” You mutter, before stepping through the doorway. You had cleaned up a lot of the debris from the room over the past two days, but the council wouldn’t let you begin working on the wall until today, as they had to deem it still structurally sound before you went around doing things. Hopefully, if all went well, you would have the shop open again in less than two weeks.

You notice that the further you walk into Daisy Chains, the hero follows. You place your bag on the till and round to face him, leaning your weight against the wooden counter.

“Are you here to mug me or something?” What use did a pro hero have to you? What use did he have coming here either?

“I’m a fucking hero dumbass, its literally my job to detain people who do that.” He growls, his vermilion gaze forming a scowl that really shouldn’t be attractive on him, but somehow is.

“Well how am I supposed to know? First, you damage my shop, then show up in all black, glaring at me and following me into an empty store?” You challenge, meeting his intense glare straight on. If he thinks he’s intimidating you like this, well he’s right. But, you’re not going to let him know that.

“I’m here to help.” His voice echoes throughout the dead quiet store. For a moment, all you can do is blink at the somewhat stranger. He lets out a growl at you that has you steeling your spine.

“You kick up such a fuss about your fucking store, then what? Don’t want help when it's handed to you?” Ground Zero barks at you, bringing you out of your stupor.

“I’m just surprised is all.” Your honesty makes him pause. “But if you’re serious, I’ll take the offer. It wouldn’t hurt to have another set of hands.” You’re not an idiot, you know you’ve got a lot of work to do in order to get the shop back up and running, and considering you’re not the only employee here and it's your livelihood, you need it up and running as soon as possible.

“The contractor says it's going to take about two weeks.” You comment.

“Then we’ll do it in one. I’ve only got a few days off, so we need to get this done soon.” Ground Zero replies with a blank expression, before getting up off his spot of leaning against the wall. You can’t help but admire his determination, especially to fix something he may have helped cause. A lot of hero’s you know wouldn’t even have bothered to come back for this, it was just another ‘ casualty of the job’. But for some reason Ground Zero did, and you weren’t about to look the gift horse in the mouth.

“If i’m going to have a stranger help me out for the next couple of days, don’t I have the right to know their name?” You ask, walking forward towards him. He straightens up at your approaching figure - as if going on the defensive, and you notice as you come to a stop that he’s quite a bit taller than you. His nose would touch your forehead if he bent forward, no wonder he wasn’t intimidated by me when you yelled at him the other day.

“Y/n Y/l/n, proud owner of Daisy Chains.” Sticking out your hand, Ground Zero looks between your eyes and your hand for a moment before reaching forward and gripping it.

“Katsuki Bakugou, also known as Ground Zero.” He introduces, shaking your hand. You can’t help but notice how calloused it is compared to your own. Well he literally works with his hands due to that explosive quirk of his.

“Katsuki Bakugou…” You breathe, testing the words out on your tongue. You glare half-heartedly at Katsuki, “I still don’t like you.” You finish, pulling your hand away from the blonde. He huffs at you and scowls.

“The feelings fucking mutual. Let’s get this shit done.” Katsuki orders, pushing up the sleeves of his hooded jumper and walks over to the boarded up wall, grabbing a hammer as he moves. He’s definitely determined, that's for sure. One however, can also describe Katsuki as elegant. You observe the way that he moves; every motion fluid with a sort of grace you wouldn’t have pinned with someone like him. He yanks of his hood as he begins to pull the nails out of the wooden beams. Strong too. Unfortunately, his sweater hides his defined biceps that you know are there due to seeing him the other day in his hero costume and you - nope, stop right there. Shaking your head to clear your wandering thoughts, you reach over to the tool kit your best friend brought over for you to borrow and follow Katsuki’s lead and begin ripping down the wood.

With two sets of hands, things get done much faster than you had originally thought it would. You had ripped out the hastily put up wood, and began to demolish the rest of the damaged structure like the contractors had marked out for you. Due to being too poor to afford builders, you had planned to do the whole thing yourself, so as much as you hated to admit it, Katsuki’s presence was actually a major help. Not like you’d tell him that anyways. By the time it was five thirty that evening, you had already begun to put up the interior wall structure. Katsuki somehow knew what the hell he was doing, and barely had to look at the tips the contractor wrote down for you. When you had questioned him, he’d just barked at you to mind your own dang business, and proceeded to pout like a child for the next hour. Some of your neighbours had brought some temporary fencing to put across the front of the store to try and stop people from getting in during the day - and you had thanked them profusely as they waved it off. Because you were only twenty one, the owners of the shops either side of you had taken you under their wings so to speak. The old lady who ran the bakery next door often ‘made too much’ bread and gave some to you, and you in response 'accidentally ordered too many of her favourite roses’ so they’d go to waste if she didn’t take them. And when they’d seen Katsuki, he’d just huffed and managed to find something to do on the opposite side of the store. He’s a strange one that Ground Zero.

As the sky kept darkening, you look from the star speckled darkness slowly settling outside to your watch and decide to call it a day. Reaching over your head, you groan as your muscles pull tightly and ache from all the labour.

“I think we should call it a day Katsuki.” You yawn, looking over to the blonde who has already started to pack up the tools. He glances at you when he’s done, and dusts his hands on his black jeans.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at eight. Don’t be fucking late or I’ll break in the door to get in.” Katsuki promises, before pushing out said door.

“I won’t pay for that damage!” You call after him, watching as his shoulders tense in annoyance at your words. Holding in your laugh, you observe as he pulls his hood over his head and stalks down the street, slipping into the shadows like he’s made of them. You let out a sigh and lean back against the counter, suddenly feeling much more optimistic about your store and its progress now that Katsuki’s helping.

He definitely is a strange one.

For the next three days, your progress clicks like clockwork. Arriving at eight am and leaving at seven when it gets too dark and you’re both too tired to do much more, the store is slowly coming back together. Last night, you’d even ordered take out and actually had a civilised meal together. Sitting on the floor of Daisy Chains, you’d both eaten gyūdon, conversing in innocent small talk whilst you gaped at the hot sauce that Katsuki kept adding to his food. He had smirked at your expression, which then resulted in a two hour Q&A with pro hero Ground Zero. Where you learnt that he absolutely loves spicy food, likes mountain climbing of all things, and can actually cook - which you only learnt because he called the food bland and was offended when you sassed saying that he couldn’t do any better. Apparently, he can. It was a weird experience, getting to know Katsuki as someone other than Ground Zero, Pro Hero destined to be number one - his words of course. It was actually… Nice, talking to him. Your heart jumped around inside your chest like an overexcited child in those moments, just getting to know him and seeing his lips tick up ever so slightly for the first time at a joke you cracked. And you need your heart to stop. You have no reason to feel like this, if anything you should be mad. No, you think. He’s using his days off, things he’s mentioned that he rarely gets, to help you fix something that - yes, he caused damage to, but could have just left alone.

You let out a sigh at your confused thoughts and dip the paintbrush back into the bucket on the floor. Your feelings towards the confident blonde are perplexing at best. Yet, as you look around the nearly completed store, and the painting you have left to do, you couldn’t help but want him there. Sure, you argue - a lot, but you also really enjoy his company. And no, it wasn’t because around midday every day, he’d shed his jumper and you’d be graced with toned muscles bulging out of his tank singlet.

Except he had mentioned to you last night that he wasn't coming in today because he was back on patrol. It’s fine really, you have managed to get a lot done today anyways, as a lot of the heavy lifting had already been finished earlier this week. You had given the new wall a coat of primer after the window installation guys had come in and done their job on the brand spanking new windows that made your bank account cry. Having them back in and the wall officially closed in, you were also finally able to move back into your apartment upstairs and off your friends couch, which was a massive relief.

Dipping your brush back into the paint, you look at the rest of the wall that has to be done. You had decided earlier that you may as well give the rest of the store a bit of a face lift whilst you were at it. Half of it was completed when you had to take a break before you gassed yourself with the paint fumes. Deciding to leave the back door open and turn on the fan, that usually is only made use of in the summertime to attempt to decontaminate the air, but the store still reeked of paint fumes. So you settled on keeping the front door open using a cinder block. It was working, gradually.

Slowly, the sun set behind the skyscrapers and you are still painting. Letting out a yawn, you carefully paint around the edge of the window frame, trying not to either touch the tape you had previously put down or let any drip onto the paint cloth on the floor. You are so focused on the task that you don’t notice someone has walked into the store until they speak.

“You shouldn’t leave the front door open like that dumbass, some creeper is going to take that as an opportunity to come in.” You let out a terrified scream and the paintbrush flies out of your hand and onto the floor. Placing a hand to your chest to slow your thundering heart, you look to Katsuki who's standing in the middle of the store, arms crossed on his chest, his usual glare ever so intensely settled on you, and still dressed in his hero costume. Good gracious.

“I thought you had patrol?” you ask, not moving an inch. It feels like forever since you’ve seen him in his hero costume, and somehow it looks even better then it did the first time you saw him in it. But your opinion may be biased seeing as you’ve unfortunately found yourself thinking of the hero constantly recently. He’s grown on you, like an annoyingly attractive fungus you can’t seem to get rid of.

“Just finished up. Thought I would come over here and see how slowly you’ve been going.” He smirks. You almost choke on your saliva as you look at his ticked up lips. Is he… Teasing me right now?

“Slow? I’ll have you know that i’m moving much faster today than I have with your help Mr Pro Hero.” You sass, picking up the brush and moving to continue on the wall.

“Obviously, that's why you're still going at this time.” You know he’s only trying to rile you up, but you can’t stop yourself from shooting him a playful glare over your shoulder at him But as you move, you find him no longer standing there. Katsuki’s fishing behind your front counter for something, and you’re about to ask what he’s looking for before he walks towards you, a paintbrush in hand. You blink at him as he stands next to you, dips the new brush in the paint and begins to pick up where you left off.

Your brain can’t seem to comprehend that he’s here, when he said he was super busy, in his hero costume, helping you paint. You’re unsure as to how long you’ve been standing there staring at him for, until Katsuki looks at you with a frown.

“You better not start fucking slacking now dumbass. I didn’t come here to do it all for you.” He says with a small smile and god what the hell is going on right now? Your cheeks suddenly feel hot and you don’t need to touch them or look in a mirror to know that you’re blushing. Hurriedly, you scramble for your thrown paintbrush, reaching down to the pastel blue liquid that almost looks white and begin to paint.

The radio plays softly in the background, the only source of noise in the store, and you find yourself bopping your head with the music as you work. Suddenly, when your favourite song comes on, you make a mad scramble to the machine and turn it up loudly, ignoring Katsuki’s protests. Dancing as you walk back to the wall, he’s glaring at you but there's no anger in it. Somehow over the past few days, you’ve managed to finally crack the code that is Katsuki Bakugou, and understand the many meanings of his scowls, glares and unfriendly remarks. And now, as you’re singing along to the song and shuffling towards him with a dorkish grin, he’s one hundred percent amused at your antics. Katsuki doesn’t dance along, or even bop his head, but you can see him mouthing the words ever so slightly, and that's enough. As the last chorus hits, you scream the words out loud, which earns a loud bark of laughter from Katsuki. Mid verse, the climax of your performance, you stop to watch it happen. You know you’ve said things he’s found funny before, because his mouth shifts upwards ever so slightly, followed by him calling you an idiot and turning away. But seeing him laugh, a proper laugh that starts in the belly and spreads happiness through every pore of your body and into those around you, it was so attractive to you. The soft smile he sent you after too was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. For a man normally so harsh and with sharp as fuck features, the gentle look he gave you made your stomach somersault.

The song was forgotten as you forced yourself to keep on painting until you finally finished. Looking at the clock behind the counter, you smother a yawn as you read the time. 11:16pm.

Finally, it was all coming together. With only the radio making noise, you and Katsuki tidy up your tools once more and you walk him to the door. He raises an eyebrow as you lean up against the glass door.

“I moved back upstairs today, so no more couch surfing for me.” You answer his silent question.

“That’s good, I was sick of having to walk you all the way back to your friends place.” Katsuki replies, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He was smart enough to bring a change of clothes with him tonight to change into once he’d dropped blue paint onto his costume and realised that it wasn’t the wisest idea to wear it. So now, he was back in his casual black getup, in the sweater that a part of you so wanted to steal.

“Hey, no one ever asked you to do that, thank you very much.” Scoffing at your words, Katsuki shifts his weight from one leg to another.

“You’d have never made it there without me.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night Mr Pro Hero.” Standing in silence, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him and instead look back inside the store. “Hopefully I’ll have this place open again in a few days,” You say out of nowhere, simply feeling the need to break the silence.

“That’s good. I might have to come around and actually buy something.” Snapping your head back towards him, you flush from head to toe. Is he flirting with me? You asked yourself...surely not… Why would someone like him flirt with someone like me? But you can’t help but hope that he is.

“If you come around here for any other reason other than to buy something, I swear to god Katsuki.”

“Any other reason?” He challenges, taking a step closer. Your back is pressing into the glass door behind you as your eyes lock onto his scarlet ones. “What if I have a perfectly valid reason?”

“Does it include breaking things?” You breathe, his face so close now that you can feel his exhale fan across your mouth. Oh my god.

“Not breaking, just stealing something.” He’s whispering, as if speaking too loudly would scare you away like a timid animal. Your heart is about to burst from your chest with anticipation. He’s going to kiss me, he's sooo going to kiss me. And you so want him to.

“You’re going to steal some plants Katsu? That's a bit lame. I thought you were some big shot.” His eyes flicker to life with something you can’t quite place. Teasingly, he looks down at your lips and you swear to god.

“Hey,” he drawls, “don’t go judging me now y/n.” his hand comes up to your face and brushes a strand of your hair away from your eyes. “Do you give everyone else shit like this after they’ve done you a favour, sweetheart?”

“Katsuki.” You all but groan, letting logic fly out the door and gripping the front of his sweater. “If you don’t kiss me right this second, I swear-” He doesn’t even let you finish the sentence before he’s cradling your jaw in his hands and crashing your lips together. The two of you collide with such force it knocks the air right from your lungs. Katsuki completely dominates the kiss, which has shocks running down your spine and into the tips of your toes every second it continues. He possesses your very being and you can’t do anything but hold onto him and return it with everything you have in you. Reluctantly, Katsuki pulls away from you, but continues to hold your face captive within his grasp.

“I-uh…” your brain is no longer functioning and sits with the same potential of goo inside your skull. Smirking at your response, pride swirls inside Katsuki’s eyes.

“Got nothing to say now dumbass?” He jokes, releasing a cheek to brush hair out of your eyes again. You’re pretty sure there's paint in it.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You manage to ask, deciding that you never want to do anything other than kiss him every day for the rest of your life. This time, Katsuki doesn’t laugh at you, or even smirk. His smug grin morphs into something so soft and rare that you doubt many have ever seen this look on him, and even fewer ever will.

“Only if you agree to go out with me.” Katsuki states. Of course he wouldn’t ask like a regular person. He’s Katsuki fucking Bakugou, pro hero and future number one if he gets his way. He doesn’t have time to beat around the bush.

“It’s almost midnight Katsu.” You point out, which makes him laugh.

“I didn’t mean right now dumbass.”

“Oh.” You feel yourself blush bright bright red, mortified you try to pull your head out of his hands purely out of embarrassment. But Katsuki quickly moves his hands from your face until he’s pulled you tightly against him, your chest flush against his torso, your head craned up to look at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” he utter’s before leaning in and kissing you again, this time softly and chastely, so different from the desperate kiss earlier. Suddenly, you’re so glad he exploded into your lift and ruined your shop that day. “You’re getting dinner with me tomorrow night.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, your fingers weaving through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. You feel him smile a feral grin against your lips and try to hold in a smile of your own.

“No.”

“Good, wouldn’t want it any other way Katsu.”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #katsuki x reader #flower prompt #requests #bnha x reader #bakugou one shot #katsuki bakugou imagine

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siennadraws · 3 years

Text

@dreadfutures had a open tag so I jumped in on the bandwagon 🙈

I'm tagging @shift-shaping @vvakarians @tireddemigod @vakarians-girl @vronism and @screeeeam (and whoever wants to do this!)

THE BASICS:

Character’s name: Terys Deshanna Lavellan

Role in story: The Inquisitor, and later the Ex Inquisitor.

Physical description: (I'm copying this from the 30 day DA challenge djddk but:)

Terys is lean and fit, of average height for an elf (1.47m or 4ft 9.8in) with tanned skin with a warm undertone.

Her eyes are a cool green and with a monolid and upturned, her hair is brown, with an undercut and a thin braid on her right side and her face is square. Her eyebrows are downturned, giving her an apparent frown and she has Dirthamen's Vallaslin in black.

She has a large nose, with a deep bridge and a large bump, her ears are pierced. Terys also has a lot of scars, several on her face from the Conclave Explosion.

Age: 25 at the start of Inquisition

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type: ENFJ and 8w9

INTERNAL LIFE:

What is their greatest fear? Being alone, metaphorically or literally. Especially if that loneliness is something out of her control.

Inner motivation: Protection. Whether it is protecting her clan and loved ones, or vulnerable people.

Kryptonite: Loss of identity

What is their misbelief about the world? She thinks that she can change anyone's mind with proper arguments. Some people just don't want to change their minds, which is very bleak.

Lesson they need to learn: She needs to learn that she doesn't need to be useful to repay for love. The love she receives is freely given.

What is the best thing in their life? Her loved ones, her clan and family, and their love.

What is the worst thing in their life? All the violence and apocalypses she had to face off.

What do they most often look down on people for? Lack of flexibility in their preconceived beliefs, she can understand why someone can have prejudices, but they need to immediately drop them if they should know better.

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive? Working with animals, like halla and horses, and learning things!

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way? Physical affection, especially when it's casual. Solas, her sister and later, when she moves into Dorian's, to save the world once again, Dorian and Maeve!

Top three things they value most in life? Her loved ones, her people's traditions and religion, people trying their best.

EXTERNAL LIFE:

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why? She's practical when it comes to things like this. But the objects she'd be more sad parting with would be her scarves and daggers.

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom. She has dalish earrings on, gold with a lot of details in filigree and a gold beaded choker. She also typically has a green scarf wrapped around her neck, made of halla wool and wears a white shirt, with blue dalish embroidery. Terys also has a green sash tied around her waist and wears pants. She has bare feet.

What names or nicknames have they been called throughout their life? The typical da'len by hahren and her mothers, da'mi by her family once she started training as a hunter and Greeny by Varric.

What is their method of manipulation? Terys tries to sell an idea by selling its usefulness to the person.

Describe their daily routine. Once she wakes up, she says her morning blessings, stretches & freshens up, goes eat breakfast with whoever is awake (she wakes up very early). Then she goes work on whatever and takes her lunches with her people. She takes her baths at night and eats dinner afterwards with her loved ones, normally in her bedroom, reads a bit and goes to sleep early-ish.

Their go-to cure for a bad day? Meditation and painting! And chocolate or baking with her loved ones.

GOALS:

How are they dissatisfied with their life? She's tired of having to fight to save the world.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment? The world being at peace, true peace, and being able to return to her clan, maybe even stop being a hunter to just help around, especially her Halla Keeper mother.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality? Save the world, again djdjsk

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already? Well, this is somewhat out of her control. She could let go of her responsibility and enjoy the coming years before the world is potentially destroyed, but that'd be too selfish.

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of? She is going to redeem Solas, she won't sacrifice her family, her loved ones, for the world. She'll save both.

Blank meme under read more

THE BASICS:

Character’s name:

Role in story:

Physical description:

Age:

INTERNAL LIFE:

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type:

What is their greatest fear?

Inner motivation:

What is their misbelief about the world?

Lesson they need to learn:

Kryptonite:

What is the best thing in their life?

What is the worst thing in their life?

What do they most often look down on people for?

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive?

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?

Top three things they value most in life?

EXTERNAL LIFE:

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why?

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom.

What names or nicknames have they been called throughout their life?

Describe their daily routine.

What is their method of manipulation?

Their go-to cure for a bad day?

GOALS:

How are they dissatisfied with their life?

What would bring them true happiness or contentment?

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality?

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already?

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of?

#terys lavellan #tag game #lavellan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age

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fernisworm · 3 years

Note

Maybe a fluffy Blankgameplays x reader writing please? And thank you if you do write it 💕

[an;

Aaaah tysm for requesting!! I’ve never personally written for Blank before but I love him as a character and introduced him as a main villain in my “Shadows Lurk” story!

I loved writing this for you, and although it’s a tad angsty I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :D ♡♡

❀ Oneshot name: “Haunted”

❀ Characters: BlankGamePlays x Reader

❀ Warnings: a grain of angst from our ball of anxiety ✨Blank✨

✿ You can find all my stories here!

✿ My requests guide is here! (And you can place a request here!)

“Blank, you can come out now,” (Y/n) sang quietly, closing the door before moving to sit on her bed. After a moment a figure began to materialise from the shadows, and soon a man stood before her.

“Are you sure they’re all asleep?” he asked anxiously, inching out of the darkness and into the dim light of the room.

“Yes, I’m sure. My roommates are heavy sleepers, I’ve told you this before.” She tried not to laugh at Blank’s cautiousness, worried she might upset him.

Blank sighed, sitting down at the other edge of (Y/n)’s bed. “If you say so.”

(Y/n) had been meeting with Blank in the dead of night for a while now; it turned out he was some kind of demon haunting the house. Surely she’d be freaked out that he was a demon, right? At first, she was. But it didn’t take (Y/n) long to realise that Blank was just lonely.

“What did you get up to today?” (Y/n) asked him, moving and positioning pillows around herself. Blank tried not to laugh at her question.

“Nothing, as per usual. I don’t get up to much when you aren’t around,” He explained.

“Do you ever do anything when I’m gone?” she asked.

“I wait for you to come back,” Blank said, and (Y/n) snickered at his response.

“Okay then, Miss Judgey-Pants, what did you get up to today?” Blank challenged her.

“Well, I went to work, as usual, and Kasey was being a bitch again… god, I don’t know why they don’t just fire her, she’s so useless!” (Y/n) began to ramble.

In all honesty, it was one of the things Blank loved about her. The way she could so seamlessly ramble for hours on end. Blank rested his head on his palm, watching as (Y/n) illustrated her point with various hand-motions.

“…but it’s not any different to what I usually tell you, anyway.” (Y/n) finished, noticing Blank’s dreamy expression despite his colourless eyes. “What is it?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he sat up suddenly, seemingly snapped from his daze.

“Sorry, I was rambling again…” (Y/n) apologised, laughing nervously.

“It’s alright,” Blank comforted her. “I don’t mind at all. I love hearing about your day.” He offered her a warm smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone does.” She smiled back.

“Are you tired yet?” Blank asked somewhat suddenly. “You can go to sleep if you want.” (Y/n) had made a nasty habit of staying up late just so that she could talk to Blank, and he felt bad that she had been going to work tired the past few days because of it.

“Of course not,” (Y/n) suppressed an inopportune yawn. “I’m fine, Blank. What else did you want to talk about?”

Suddenly a black inky goo began to seep from the corner of Blank’s eye, and (Y/n) scrambled for the handkerchief in her pocket- god knows she never used it, and she kept it around more for Blank than anything. She handed the cloth to him and he took it gratefully.

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his eyes.

This happened a lot with Blank, and for no particular reason, either. His eyes would just spontaneously “leak”, crying even if he wasn’t sad. (Y/n) had gotten used to it by now and it barely surprised her anymore.

She supposed it had to do with his odd eyes; they were both black, you see, but not just the irises. Blank had no irises or sclera, only a dark void where his eyes were meant to be.

(Y/n) was unable to explain it, and most times it seemed as if Blank had no idea why they were like that either. He could still see perfectly; his eyes were just afflicted with an unusual appearance. (Y/n) thought it was quite wonderful.

“Mason saw you last night, Blank,” (Y/n) sat back.

Blank’s eyes widened at the mention of her roommate. “He did?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He said he saw a shadow lurking around the kitchen and I instantly knew it was you. I told him he’s a wimp and he shut up about it, so no need to worry. What were you doing, anyway?” she asked him.

Blank shrugged, turning away.

“Blank?” (Y/n) leaned forward, a little concerned now. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I… I tried to get out,” he trailed off but continued again before (Y/n) could respond. Blank turned back to her. “But I couldn’t, (Y/n). I still can’t leave.”

Another black, inky tear began to well in one of Blank’s eyes, but (Y/n) knew that this time it wasn’t on accident.

Blank had been in this house since well before (Y/n) had moved in; it took her a few months before she found him, but she remembered Blank telling her that he’d always been there. (Y/n) wasn’t exactly sure how long Blank had lived in the house before her arrival, but one of the first things he told her was that he cannot leave.

It was ironic, in a sense. The house was haunted; but (Y/n) didn’t see it that way at all. She was glad for Blank’s company, and she was glad to have met him. She knew that Blank felt much the same.

“Why were you trying to leave?” she asked impulsively, immediately realising how insensitive her comment was.

It took Blank a few moments to place his words; as if he were gearing up for something. “Listen, (Y/n)…” Blank looked away again. He was acting stranger than usual, so (Y/n) knew that whatever he was about to say was important.

“I know we’ve been talking and meeting for several months now, but… I wish I could… go somewhere else.” He glanced back to her. “…With you.”

(Y/n) wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she didn’t say anything. She simply waited for Blank to get everything off his chest.

“I love when we talk, I do more than anyone, but I feel… bad about it,” Blank said.

“Why’s that?” (Y/n) felt her heart ache for a moment. “Did I do something wrong?”

Blank looked as if he were panicked now. “No, no of course not! Argh…” he facepalmed in what seemed to be frustration, muttering to himself. “I knew I’d mess this up…”

“Mess what up, Blank?” (Y/n) would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about him now.

“Us, (Y/n).” Blank faced her fully now. “I don’t want to mess up what we have- I want to be with you for the rest of my life,” he began to tear up again.

“Blank, I want that too,” she smiled warmly, reaching over to hold his hand. Blank smiled too for a moment, before pulling his hand away from (Y/n)’s.

“I love you so much, (Y/n), and that’s why I don’t want to be with you.” He sounded remorseful.

“W-what?” (Y/n) tried to bite back her tears, confused by Blank’s words and hoping she was just misunderstanding him.

“I want you to be with someone who can take you to nice places to do nice things- I can’t leave this house, and as far as I’m concerned it’s always going to be that way. I don’t want you to waste your life in this building alongside me.”

It looked as if it crushed Blank to admit all of this to her. (Y/n) began to laugh quietly, wiping the tears from her face. Blank’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. For a moment he feared (Y/n) had lost it.

“I don’t care if I have to stay in this house- if I have to be confined to this very room- as long as I’ve got you I don’t care where the hell I am! I thought that would have been obvious by now.”

She scooted closer to Blank, resting her hand against the side of his face. “I love you, Blank. And if you’re really so hung up on this house thing I’m sure we can figure out a way to let you leave. Otherwise, we can evict Mason.”

Blank laughed, resting his hand on top of hers. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not? We can haunt him out of here!”

They both began to laugh before Blank removed (Y/n)’s hand from his face, now holding it in both of his hands.

“Does it really not bother you that I’m a demon? Or that you’ll never be able to see me outside the walls of this house?” he asked her rather solemnly.

“Blank, I couldn’t care if you were a Martian from Mars, I’d still love you all the same,” (Y/n) responded lovingly.

Blank kissed the top of her hand. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, dearest.”

(Y/n) leaned forward and pecked Blank on the lips, and almost immediately he turned a bright shade of red. “I think I have a vague idea,” she laughed.

#blankgameplays x reader #blank x reader #blankgameplays #evil youtubers #x reader #x y/n #dark youtubers #blank #dark youtubers blank #evil youtubers blank #my writing

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sloppy-butcher · 4 years

Text

Dare You

The Legion (Joey) x Survivor!Reader

//edit// this was orginally an ask from, if i remember correctly, Apex-star requesting something like,

"Joey's first encounter with his furture survivor S/O"

but being the complete fool i am i lost the ask and am left with only the answer and a vague memory of it. i am very professional. //

so i kinda turned this into a lil fic thing. a crack-fic if i may be so bold. i also moved this to do it first cause i’m sad and i wanted to write this.

joey gang rise up

TW: none

Eternal damnation gets boring after a while. Torture becomes mundane and the hollowed promises of death ebb-off into incoherent background noise. Seeking some new excitement you and a couple of other survivors devise a new game. A game of chicken.

Working away on yet another generator, you find yourself in the company of Meg and Dwight. Meg was notorious for giving the most difficult and challenging dares while poor Dwight was always the sore receiver. You found yourself already sending prayers for the shy man, hoping that Meg would find it in her heart to be somewhat merciful on Dwight. However, when Meg’s eyes turned to you, you suddenly wished you had kept those prayers for yourself.

“Hey~” Meg’s voice, although a breathy whisper, was bursting with giddiness and sly cunning. Oh she had something evil hidden up her sleeve. “Remember when we had that conversation a while ago. About who had the best ass to slap?” Images of past campfire banters flash through your mind until finally landing on the one Meg was referring to. Discussing the asses of the killers was a fine topic, raising spirits and getting everyone engaged as they defending their choices. Nea proclaiming that the new killer, Pyramid head, had the fattest ass she had ever seen. Ace objecting, standing up and defending The Trapper - a.k.a the OG thick brick (his words not yours). Bill and Tapp, not really understanding the concept of ass-slapping, both agreeing that The Clown, although rightfully disgusting, was the winning contender in the ‘junk in the truck’ department. Everyone quickly disagreed with their outrageous statement. When the flow of conversation turned to you, you blurted out the only ass that came to mind.

Reality hit you like a freight train, nearly making you short-circuit the generator. Meg’s grin widened. “Well, my friend. Now’s your chance.” As if on que, a killer appeared in the distance. A young man dressed in all black and painted in white approached the gen, knife in hand and murder on his mind. The Legion. The very killer you had brought up in the ass competition. “You know the rules,” Meg warned releasing her hands from her work and preparing to run, “No chickening out.” And with that she fled, Dwight not far behind her. Now you were left alone with no one but yourself and the man intent on killing you.

It wasn’t much of a chase. You were preoccupied, your mind unfocused and elsewhere. How were you going to smack his ass? Try run past him? Maybe sneak up from behind? Nothing ultimately mattered because before too long you were downed, groaning from your wounds. The Legion easily lumped you onto his shoulder and suddenly your opportunity presented itself. Looking down you saw the curvature of his butt and, raising a hand, you smacked it hard.

In the most unexpected turn of events, The Legion dropped you with a surprised yelp. Landing on your feet you wasted no time in running away, leaving the scene of your crime. Joey stood there for a moment, a hand unconsciously sliding to where he got slapped. What the fuck had just happened? Not only had he been violated in such a childish and undignified manner, but he also lost his kill. Never before had he been touched this way both outside the Fog and in. Even though he was initially shocked, outraged even, at your actions Joey couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of respect blossom in his mind. You had guts kid, he’ll give you that.

The trial continued on with no more altercations save for the fact that Joey avoided you like the plague. If he would catch you working on a gen he’d pretend to look away. If he found you healing a teammate he would ignore you and tunnel the other. In the end, with both exits powered and most survivors alive and waiting, Joey had to accept defeat. Meg however was still injured and tried desperately to make a wild dash for safety. The Legion, hot on her heels, knocked her to the floor and graciously took her as his only kill of the game. In his desperation to not return empty handed, Joey failed to notice a small figure darted behind him. Once Meg rested on his shoulder Joey turned to a hook. His victory was short-lived however, as a hand came into contact with his ass yet again. A loud and good whack echoed through the arena, with Meg gratefully jumping to her feet and speeding off.

With your friends all safe, you follow her to the exit where you see her and the others off. A heartbeat throbs behind you. Swallowing your fear you turn to see a fuming Legion. His fists were clenched, shoulders shaking from pure rage and annoyance and although he wanted to attack you, he kept his respectful distance.

“You can’t do that!” A gruff voice shouted. Blinking the confusion out of your eyes you realize that it was the killer who spoke. His voice was equally fueled with anger as his posture but there was something else to it - maybe disgust? Or maybe he was impressed?

“There’s no rule against it.” You retort, finding the whole situation too wild and bizarre to be real. Perhaps you were dreaming this. The Legion shook his head.

“No way. You can’t just slap my ass like that! It’s wrong!” You found his reasoning ironic. Raising an eyebrow you fully turn your attention to the killer.

“Oh yeah? Like you have the authority to tell me what is right and wrong?” Joey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You were so cocky, leaning on one leg with your arms crossed defiantly over your chest. You were a character, playful and teasing and Joey realized that he liked it. When you spoke you produced a smile, a face etched into the blank-slate he had hidden you under. No more a soulless vessel but now a person. You were a person to him. One who looked like trouble and fun.

The tension drained from his shoulders as he finally allowed himself to accept the growing feeling in his chest. “Alright.” He calmly spoke, his voice now smooth like sweet butter, slippery and drowning. “But at least take me on a date first.” No reason to hide it anymore, the cat was out of the bag. He wanted to see you more.

“I’ll consider it,” was your reply before you slipped past the boundary and to the campfire. To think this all stemmed from some stupid dare. First you had stunned the killer, then he spoke to you AND then he asked you see you sometime. It was all too wild to believe. But as you walked away you couldn't help but cup your right hand, fingers tracing the soft parts of your palm. He really did have a nice ass though.

#crack fic #makes me happy #dbd x reader #dbd the legion x reader #dbd joey #dbd joey x reader

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Lost In- What Word? Pt 1 - Akaashi Keiji

AU: Single Parent

Requested

Word Count: 4.5k+

Disclaimer: Fem! Reader, Time skip spoilers, Udai being a meta Furudate insert, just fluff

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

Akaashi wasn’t sure if Udai was naturally forgetful, or just held so much anticipation in his smaller form that he glossed over details and didn't realize it. Udai was an excellent author despite not having reached the major public yet. His first published work was short and eerie which most of the shonen reading population didn’t greedily rip off the shelves. Although, those that did read it gave him overwhelming support, maybe the rest of the world wasn’t ready for that kind of psychological horror just yet.

When Akaashi originally applied for a position at the publishing company he intended to work in the literature department, editing lengthy novels and picking out grammatical errors, not reading conversations via text bubbles and looking for continuity errors between images. He never did pick out the exact moment he went from editor to fact-checker and archivist. Akaashi also never knew how many different ways there were to translate a single word until he met you. And once he did, he realized that his eyes would follow you across the office as you ran around and spoke to other editors, helping them furnish their translations so that they flowed properly.

“Tenma, isn’t he meant to be out of the rotation for this panel?” Akaashi couldn’t help but grimace when faced with the utter despair that had pulled on Udai’s typically eased expression. The panel itself was masterfully drawn, taking up two pages and showing off Udai’s immense talent in drawing expressions and anatomy.

“I spent 8 hours on that, only to find out that it needs to be scrapped. What has my life come to?”

The yellow office lights made both of the men’s hair give off a green tinge and made their faces look sickly. Udai frowned as he pushed his chair back and let his chin sit on the table of the small meeting room. His hair curled around his fingers as they gently tugged on the ends of the wavy black stands, straightening them only to let them go and have them bounce back into place.

Akaashi flipped through the printed out pages of the chapter, letting the loose papers lay flat on the table. He pointed to the next pages. “These are fine though. They’re in the right rotation here, so not all is lost at least.”

Udai sighed, as he threw his weight back into the chair, making it spin with his momentum. “That’s all well and good, but I was really proud of that panel. It was going to be the attention grabber.”

Akaashi pursed his lips gently, flipping through the pages once more before tucking them into the pale yellow folder and closing it. Udai’s new story was in its beginning stages, only having a sample chapter that would be published in the following week’s magazine, that is if they got it done in time.

“It needs to be perfect. I can’t have this not work and starve for the rest of my life.”

Akaashi opened his mouth slightly, taking in a deep breath, ready to spout out his words of encouragement for his colleague when there was a knock on the door followed by the soft creaking of the hinges as it opened.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to ask Udai about some of the uh… what’s the word? Dang, I’m supposed to know Japanese, it’s my job. The— I give up. Help?”

Udai chuckled and waved you over to take the seat opposite him, you shook your head and bowed slightly as your hand raised, saying you were alright, not needing the chair. Leaning down slightly you pointed at the ruff sketch copy in your hand where your current author’s handwriting seemed to over the edges of the text bubble slightly.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but how in the hell am I supposed to translate ‘paisen’?”

The innocent question seemed to brighten Udai’s mood much more than Akaashi’s monotone words of support would have. The older man launched backwards, nearly flinging himself off the chair, in a fit of laughter. His hands gripped the shirt he wore above his stomach and chest as they tried to ease the laughing pains.

Akaashi chuckled at the sight before looking at your somewhat regretful expression, you were probably too used to your co-workers laughing at your in-fluency at Japanese. “You can probably substitute a familiar nickname or a joking reference of respect.”

You sighed and brushed your hand over the back of your neck, “I swear, Himari had the intent to torture me with this last chapter. Thank you, Akaashi.”

Finally calmed from his fit of giggles, Udai sat straight in his chair and sent you a gracious smile. “Well, at least when you join our team I won’t torture you as much.”

You gave Udai and Akaashi a teasing smirk as you reached for the door handle. “I’m not so sure about that,” you said. “Besides, you need to get the attention of the readers before I join your team. No point in translating a comic that doesn’t even get off the ground right?”

You sent them a wink and the door closed behind you with a quiet click.

“Was that a challenge?”

“I believe so,” Akaashi said, handing Udai a blank sheet of paper. “Looks like we have some work to do.”

The office was, as it was the day before, and the day before that, calm. Udai sat in a small isolated office on his own with a naturally coloured lamp hanging over his hunched figure. The rest of his team, including Akaashi and now you as well, sat outside his door in a row of cubicles that led up to a large window that took up the entirety of the wall. In the corner cubicle, pressed against the window and directly across from him, you sat, typing away on your computer as you translated the Japanese text into Wild Words fonted English.

“Akaashi, is the end of chapter ready to translate?” Your head peeked over the frosted cubicle wall, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips and the corner of your eyes pinching together. Akaashi’s gaze fluttered around.

“Ah, Ya the edits are done so you can finish translating it now.”

The smile you wore only seemed to grow, making Akaashi want to turn away and stare at the same time. The sun’s light contrasted with the dull rectangular lights in the office, making your skin glow. Your fingers tightened on the top of the glass and your shoulders rose to your ears, you narrowly missed knocking over an owl keychain that hung on his side of the wall.

“Perfect,” you said. “I’ll get them done now.”

The day continued like this, everyone working and occasionally calling out to each other through their cubed walls, possibly getting a twirling pen in the forehead followed by a meek apology (coming from you). Every time you spoke to someone you would rise out of your seat to make eye contact with them, refusing to continue speaking otherwise, and even though he wasn’t the person you always spoke to, each time your head began to poke out of your squared corner Akaashi couldn’t help but turn his attention your way, watching as the sun's light danced around you. It didn’t come to a surprise when, like every instance before, Akaashi looked up when you shot up from your seat. Only this time there was a frantic look plastered unevenly on your face, one that the warm light didn’t compliment.

“Please tell me my clock is wrong and that it’s not 4 pm.”

Chiyo leaned back in her chair, setting down her Cintiq’s pen and flipped the watch on her wrist so that the face faced her. “Yup, it’s actually 4:15.”

Akaashi was surprised to hear a not so work friendly English curse leave your lips as you rushed to save files on your computer while simultaneously packing your purse. You continued to swear as you ran out of your cubicle and toward the elevators with a quick “goodbye” being thrown over your shoulder. The office was quiet.

“Does that happen often?” Ena asked as he pulled off his glasses.

The group of artists and their editor sat in stunned silence for a few moments, minds racing over where the young translator had scurried off to. In their collaborative confusion, the team slowly went back to their respective jobs.

Himari came around the corner of the office, coffee in hand, as she chatted with her editor, who was nursing his own mug. The writer looked up for her conversation to see Udai’s team and gave them a polite nod. They were going to meekly return to their work when Himari paused her steps and looked at the empty plush chair that sat rotated and untucked in your cubicle.

“Oh, did (Y/N) leave?” to Akaashi’s surprise, Himari was not.

“Does she do that often?” he asked, setting down his pen on the counter of his desk.

Himari nodded, smiling, “Oh ya, sometimes she gets lucky and her friend can handle it but a lot of the time she has to run out of here by 3.” Akaashi’s brow furrowed slightly as Himari took a sip of her coffee before continuing waving her hand by her head, “Don’t worry too much about it though, she always comes in early to get her work done.”

Before they could question further, Himari was off with her editor sending them a knowing smile.

When the end of the workday rolled around, only 45 minutes after your quick departure, Akaashi found his eyes trailing back to his phone that sat at the corner of his desk on top of a stack of papers. Keeping watch on his phone, he swung his bag over his shoulder and shut off his computer. The device remained silent as the team began to pile out of their seats, toward the elevators and in a fit of contemplation, he reached for the phone.

Your response was quick and vague; Family thing, happens often. I’ll tell you later. See you tomorrow!

After the sample comic was released, Udai was thrown when he received an immense amount of interest for his characters and story, and he was even more excited when he received word from the magazine’s publishers that they wanted him to continue with the path he was on. The months building up to this moment were filled with constant plot revisions, reference excursions, and interviews until they came to a conclusive framework of the story, and continued introductions as new members were added to their original duo to make the workload less hefty.

Today though was the day that the story’s first chapter would finally be released to the public.

Akaashi tracked into the office, heading to the lounge to grab a coffee before coming up to his cubicle against the window and setting his bag down, immediately heading to the lounge. 8:40 in the morning, 20 minutes before the expected time of arrival, Akaashi, back at his desk, was just about to take a sip of coffee when a small snore overlapped the sound of the air conditioners, creating a dishonest harmony.

On the other side of the frosted glass wall of the cubicle was you, head resting on the black mouse pad that had a small plush cushion for your wrist. Akaashi quickly rounded the desks, coming to our side to gently rouse you from your slumber before your co-workers arrived. He was to wake you up gently with a hand on your shoulder, that was the plan. The plan changed when he noticed the small picture frame on your desk, surrounded by various action figures and Funko pops.

With one hand on your shoulder and the other holding the fame, he studied the photo with a kind gaze. He was so enthralled with the image that he forgot that below his other hand, was you.

“He’s cute ain’t he?” you asked, startling the editor back to his current reality as you stretched, arching your back like a cat. Akaashi’s attention was brought back to the current situation as you reached out for another frame in the opposite corner of your desk. “His name is Naoko. Here, this photo is newer.”

The young boy in the new photo looked like you a lot, more so than the previous one where he was just an infant that carried more resemblance to a potato than a human. Akaashi, without taking his eyes off the pictures, pulled the chair out from under Ena’s desk and sat next to you. He didn’t say anything, deciding just to admire the photos he held and letting you decide whether or not he should have the pleasure of hearing a story.

You sighed and yawned, leaning over the armrest of your chair so you would see them too. “He’s six, really quiet. I moved here when I found out. Hardly even out of university, and I was already pregnant with some strangers kid,” you laughed, making Akaashi stare at your features for a moment, wanting to point out which ones could be found on the boy.

“Is he the reason you moved to Japan?” Akaashi was a little taken aback by your willingness to talk, but in hindsight, you didn’t seem like the person to keep secrets, often rattling with your co-workers about your interests. Thinking back, maybe he should have expected something like this, Himari seemed to have known after working with you for several years, happily dancing around the topic of your personal life with your new coworkers when your sudden departure was questioned.

You shrugged, “not entirely, but he sure was a good excuse. I had plans to move to Japan for years before I even got into university. When I found out, I was sort of… uh. English…. Fuck, I need a job. So I applied to be an intern here, moved in with a friend I met online and prepared to have a baby.” Your arms flew about as you talked.

“You act as though it was easy,” Akaashi laughed, placing the frames back onto the table.

You let out a happy chuckle and spun your chair to face Akaashi head-on, eyes not leaving his, “I wouldn’t say it was easy, per se, but I’m happy with how things turned out.” you yawned a bit, “I should also apologize for running out of the office early sometimes, I have to pick Naoko up from school so —”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” The gentle smile he wore was contagious.

It was 8:50 when the rest of the team came in. Immediately catching sight of Ena, Akaashi pulled away from your side, rolling the chair back to its respective location. He heard a breathy laugh escape you as he scurried around the desks to return to his designated spot across from you, cardigan flailing about.

The rest of your team piled into their seats sending the two of you waves and morning greetings. Ena nearly dropped his ‘don’t talk to me till I’ve had my coffee’ mug as he tripped over his rubber slides just before reaching his desk next to yours.

Sending your friends a smile you quickly slid back into your cubicle to re-adjust the frames on your desk with a yawn. Akaashi gave you a nod when you looked up to his stiff, still standing, form. You made his heart feel much weaker than he’d like to admit and without saying another word, he picked up the forgotten mug filled with brown liquid and handed it over the glass, into your hands.

Naoko was much more reserved than Akaashi expected, definitely a contrast to your more hyper personality. He spent most of the day sitting in the corner behind your cubicle where a table was set up next to a row of cabinets. What the boy was doing, Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure, but there was a small tickle at that back of his brain that made him want to find out.

When you had come in that morning, the group was surprised to see the small boy trailing behind you, holding onto your hand tightly with the both of his. “PD day,” you said. Udai spent the first few minutes of the day gushing over the boy’s cheeks instead of working, only to end up being backtracked and having to cram into his lunch break. Akaashi would be lying if he said he wasn’t thankful for that though.

“What do you have there?” he asked, taking a seat next to the boy and setting down his lunch next to the younger’s bento box.

Naoko curled in on himself, bringing the phone (that was most definitely yours) to his chest. The boy’s knees had pulled up to his shoulders as his feet pushed on the edge of the chair. Akaashi sent the young boy a kind smile and waited. From the corner of his eye, he could see your chair turn around as you took in the sight of your son and co-worker. He watched as you began making large swinging motions with your arms. Akaashi tried not to laugh.

Whatever had been playing on the phone hadn’t been paused in the short time given to do so, making the familiar sound ring quietly around the two of them.

Akaashi looked back your way for a moment, only to see you tilt your head up in a supporting nudge and turn back around.

“Are you watching a volleyball game?” he asked, rousing a more positive reaction from the boy.

Naoko’s shoulders lowered and he slowly placed the phone down between them. As Akaashi had concluded, a volleyball game played on the small screen. He put forward another question.

“Do you like to play?”

The six-year-old shrugged but nodded before scooting his chair in closer and reaching for his food. Akaashi mirrored him, slipping off his collared cardigan and pulling his lunch closer, still watching the game.

“I used to play volleyball.” This caught the boy’s attention, who turned his head to look at Akaashi, brows raised and lips pursed. “I was a setter.”

Naoko swallowed his food and for the first time, Akaashi got to hear him speak.

“I like playing setter too.”

His voice was rather meek and had a sort of authority to it, but the biggest thing he noticed made him stifle a laugh.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called gently, making you spin your chair around in question. “Why is Naoko better at Japanese then you?”

“Hey! That’s mean!”

Naoko began to wiggle in his seat, desperately trying not to laugh at his mother’s, your, irritation. You shot a look at your son and gasped.

“Don’t you start laughing at me. I speak English better than you do.”

“You don’t need to speak English in Japan, mom.”

Kaashi continued to choke on his laugher as you pushed the palm of your hand into your forehead. “I’m being teased by my own son,” you cried quietly, turning your chair back around to face the unedited pages.

Naoko giggled and looked back Akaashi’s way. “Can you teach me?”

Akaashi didn’t see you still in your chair, listening.

“Of course I can.”

“Udai, seriously? You promised that you weren’t going to use weird industry term slang stuff on me.”

With a wide-eyed look and hair messily tied back, the man in question rotated his chair around childishly. “I never promised. I just said I'd go easier on you.” It was infuriating really.

With a pitiful whine, you shook the rough script in your hand making an angry fluttering sound. “You’re so mean Tenma. You know that I have trouble with slang.”

Udai only laughed and waved you off, “It’s a good way to learn is it not?”

You rolled your eyes but relented, giving a wave and closing the door. Once at your seat Akaashi poked his head out, eyes visible over the top of his square-framed glasses.

“He did it again?”

“Ya,” you huffed. “I can’t blame him though. It’s just frustrating that I can’t remember what a lot of the words mean. I should buy a dictionary.” Akaashi watched as you turned your monitor on. “Oh, um, Naoko was asking about you the other day.”

“Really?”

Your hands came together behind your neck, pulling your head down bashfully. “Ya, he’s been wanting to show you how he’s doing and maybe get the chance to learn a bit from you.”

Akaashi gave you a kind smile, so small that it didn’t even crease his cheeks, and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Your cheeks warmed as you beamed up at him before turning your head down towards your computer screen. Akaashi took a second to appreciate how the cool light from the overcast sky made you look. It was silent in the office for a moment. Just a moment.

“Udai! Another one?!”

In theory, so long as you have space above your head, you can play volleyball anywhere. Your apartment wasn’t ‘anywhere’.

The three-bedroom living space was built as housing and not an Olympic arena, and after breaking one too many of your glasses playing around, it was made clear to you, Naoko, and your sport junky roommate, that volleyball shouldn’t be allowed in the house.

“You guys can go play volleyball with Akaashi at the park, no?” Yukie asked, grabbing an onigiri of the large plate on your kitchen counter and stuffing it in her face. You made a large dinner that day, only to have your friend eat most of it, instead of leaving leftovers for Naoko’s lunch. Not that he complained about it, you sure did though.

Taking Yukie’s words to heart, when the weekend rolled around and Naoko was becoming more anxious, you invited Akaashi to your neighbourhood park to play volleyball.

“Open your elbows a bit more, make a triangle with your hand, and when the ball comes just cushion it with your fingertips before sending it out, okay?”

Naoko nodded, staring at his hands that were being moved around by the older player. Akaashi’s form was kneeled by the boy’s side, his head nearly resting on the younger's shoulder as he tried to make sure he was in the right position.

“Alright,” he said, grabbing the smaller than average volleyball off of the grass. “I’m gonna toss this to you, do you think you can get it to hit my hand right up here?”

Naoko nodded again, eagerly waiting for the blue and yellow ball to come flying his way. You watched silently from the park bench as Naoko tried (and often failed) to get the ball to touch Akaashi’s hand accurately.

“Almost there, you got this Naoko!” Akaashi encouraged.

Earnestly waiting to see the next move, you sat forward in your seat, watching as that ball made a tall arch towards Naoko’s waiting palms. As the ball made contact with his fingertips, he bent his elbows and wrists before shooting them out into a straight line, sending into the palm of Akaashi’s hand before dropping back onto the grassy field.

Your son, as most six-year-olds do when accomplishing something, shrieked. He shrieked very loudly before sprinting directly into Akaashi’s stomach to give him a (breath-stealing) hug. Akaashi coughed as he tried to get air back into his depleted lungs. From the side you giggled, watching as Naoko’s smile grew, head buried into Akaashi’s stomach.

It became standard, going out to the park during your off days. And this day, like the weekends that have come before, the routine of going to the park, ball in hand, continued. But after spending an hour or so watching the familiar movement of the yellow and blue ball fly through the air, Naoko interrupted the serene setting with a loud request.

“Mama! Mom! Can we go get onigiri?”

Looking up from resting your neck on the back of the bench to turn your gaze onto the energetic boy that was hopping around on the grass. “I’m okay with that, but you should probably ask Akaashi along. We don't want to leave him at the park do we?” you teased, picking up your bag and walking toward the two.

Naoko spun again to look at Akaashi, whose hands were now tucked into his jeans pockets. “Please!” he wailed. “Come with us! Please, please, please, please, please!”

Akaashi let out a hearty laugh. “Calm down, I’ll join you.” without saying another word, Akaashi offered his hand out, letting Naoko clutch it eagerly.

“Udai are you sure it’s okay to bring Naoko along? This is meant to be a work trip and I’d hate for him to dis… dic… get in the way,” you gave up at the end, sighing over your tripping words.

Udai gave Naoko, who had been clinging to Akaashi’s arm since all of you had met outside the city gymnasium, a pat on the head. “It’s alright. Besides, he’ll probably be a great resource.”

You nodded and watched as Naoko rattled to Akaashi about his school team and new things they had been practicing. You pouted. Upon their arrival, Ena, Chiyo and the others immediately began teasing you for effectively losing your son’s favour, which didn’t make your whining any less audible. On top of that, the group of artists found your sullen look to be a perfect reference, taking their cameras out.

“Keiji,” you cried, following behind the rest of the group as they waltzed through the gym entrance along with the crowd. “You’ve stolen my son.”

Akaashi paused for a moment, taking in a calm breath before looking over his shoulder. “He’s your son, I can’t steal that from you.”

Naoko threw a large smile over his shoulder, making your dragging steps falter.

When did it change? The expression on his face. When did it become so happy? Did he not smile before?

You picked up your pace, brows furrowed as you watched your son chatter happily.

When did he start speaking so much? Since when did he have so much to say? Was it something new in his diet? Or maybe the new friends on his volleyball team?

You found your gaze shifting to the hand that held his. Without thinking about it too hard, you quickened your steps to come up to Naoko’s other side. Your heart pounded as you held your closest hand out for him to grab hold of. When he finally did, immediately looking forward to dragging the two adults with him, the smile you gave Akaashi was the largest he’s ever seen coming from you.

You looked back at all of your interconnecting hands fondly.

When did he become another person’s son?

I tried going a bit of a different direction with this one in comparison to most Single Parent aus. I’ll admit it could have more meat to it, but oh well, things to improve on.

Question:

Do you prefer weekly one-shots that are shorter in length (like we’re doing) or longer ones with bigger plots and inconsistent updates (Sort of like “Catch Me If You Can” and “Ready Aim FIre” but longer)?

- Bacon

Posted: 31/07/2020

#haikyuu x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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whentheynameyoujoy · 3 years

Text

Women in SPN—Seasons 2 and 3

Previously on Joy Obsesses over a Show That Creatively Expired in 2010

Tessa

Introduced back when the Winchesters dodging the coffin actually qualified as an episode, she follows in Meg’s tracks by continuing to make monsters seem more approachable and less a malevolent force of nature. Starts off with a completely flat affect but gets annoyed with the Winchester bullshit real quick—a sure-fire sign of an SPN character with a brain. A powerful being capable of returning one’s memories by a smooch which is… convenient. As is the fact that bad guys keep using her for their ebul plans. Serves the typical secondary-character function of a springboard for a main guy’s development. Plants hints of the “natural order”, “destiny”, and “inevitability” which will become major themes down the road and be explored by characters with deeper writing.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor, remembered primarily because she keeps popping up.

On her own: A nice addition to the lore.

Jo Harvelle

Originally Dean’s love interest until she got written out for the crime of having tits around the fandom’s husband. Driven by a wish to honor her dead father and become a hunter, she’s held back by the unfortunate fact of not being all that good at it. Cheerful, temperamental, and a pretty skilled hustler, she’s mortally wounded when charging in to protect Dean. Ends up sacrificing herself so that others can escape and attempt to end the Apocalypse.

Status: Dead as of s5, dragged back and disappeared again in s7

Importance: Major

On her own: A soldier going out in a blaze of glory. I bawl every time.

Ellen Harvelle

Unlike her daughter, very good at what she does. No-nonsense authority figure, she’s one of the few in the show to pull off a combination of a hand-wringing mama bear and a pro-active badass with a life outside her family. Not perceived as a threat because fans don’t know the meaning of MILF yet, and so is allowed to stick around for the season 2 finale. Dies to make Jo’s plan to obliterate Meg’s hellhounds work, though it’s strongly implied she mostly refuses to survive her kid.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: SPN’s Molly Weasley, sullied by the implications of her death

Lenore

A head-strong leader of a nest of vegetarian vampires, she’s deliberately contrasted with Gordon’s Terminator schtick and to a lesser degree with Dean’s black-and-white monsters vs. humans kill-everything grief-cope in order to further cement SPN’s ongoing crusade of challenging who in fact is the monster around here. Has a crowning moment of awesome when she refuses to feed while covered in Sam’s blood. The entire point of her is her determination not to give up her humanity even when no longer human. Would be shame if the show decided to later abandon this essential part of her character and twist it for cheap drama…

Status: Alive as of s5, annihilated in every way in s6

Importance: Minor in the overall narrative, major in the episode and the boys’ development

On her own: An effective mirror to Dean’s stroll down the slippery slope

Diana Ballard

TheGoodCop manipulated by her professional and romantic partner, she has a surprisingly functional tension with Sam. Luckily for Linda Blair it goes unnoticed because the fandom doesn’t view older women as competition. Noteworthy mostly because she actively participates in uncovering the episode’s mystery which automatically elevates her above the standard clueless civilian, man or woman, who needs the duo to save them. Despite fewer appearances arguably more memorable than Henriksen, precisely because of her active involvement.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor overall, a major player in the episode

On her own: Interesting take on the usual boilerplate cop

Ava Wilson

To present a very, very generous interpretation, she foreshadows Sam’s eventual turn to the dark side. Spirited, a little bit airheaded, and freaked about her Azazel-given powers, she gives enough of a damn to prevent her visions of people dying from coming true, though she clings to her intention to lead a normal civilian life. Does a complete switcheroo off-screen to become a villain because… power is awesome? Ends up the most advanced special child in season 2’s battle royale, the very concept of which is just… eh? Still gets dispatched no problem because… why not?

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor

On her own: A prime example of why the special children subplot is just…wot?

Molly McNamara

Memorable primarily because of the experimental (for SPN) narration which frames her as the duo’s partner when in fact she’s one of the things being hunted. For plot reasons spends her episode switching between being terrified, worried for her missing husband, and heartbroken. Can be somewhat tortuously argued to fit the theme of (not) overcoming grief and letting go, one of the few detectable threads in the directionless slog that’s season 2.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor overall, major because she’s arguably the main character of her episode

On her own: Torture porny. Very torture porny.

Madison

Intelligent, educated, and with an endearing love of soaps, she’s responsible for one of the three watchable sex scenes in the entire show. Has a nice theme of personal growth and healing from trauma going on, although it’s cut short and undermined when she’s revealed as a werewolf and euthanized by none other than Sam himself. Her death is filmed as a narrative-changing tragedy before it goes on to become a joke in season 4.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: No matter how you look at it, she’s a diseased dog that needs to be put down for her own good while the menz wallow in their manly manpain. A rare example of a storyline I don’t think can be tweaked to be even marginally less awful.

I believe maestro may have wanted to portray sadness here.

Tamara

Told to be an excellent hunter, she’s shown as needing to be saved in order not to end up like her husband who’s literally forced to gargle bleach. Introduces the notion of growing hostility against the Winchesters in the hunting community. Full of wrath to fit the episode’s one-off seven deadly sins schtick, she’s emphasized as emotional and not in control of herself to such a degree that it overshadows how she’s in fact fairly competent in the second half of the episode.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor

On her own: Wouldn’t stand out this much if she weren’t one of the few POCs in the blinding whiteness that’s SPN’s Americana.

Ruby

Doesn’t have the most organic introduction (A cool intriguing sexy French fries loving not like other gurls sassy badass, with a superdooper special knife? How 2000s cringe can you get?) but quickly becomes one of the show’s most distinctive villains allies. She’s an ally. Totally. Don’t worry about it. A sarcastic smartass jerk who breathes lies and manipulation, she’s resourceful, thinks on her feet, and throws herself into the thick of action without hesitation—a trait that gets especially interesting in retrospect as it suggests a fanatic devotion to her real goal. Sadly, her motivation doesn’t get fleshed out beyond “she really likes Satan, I guess” (which, hey) as the writers prioritize the surprise of the revelation over her further character development. Has the second watchable sex scene in the entire show; the fandom weeps itself to sleep. Gets killed by her own weapon when the writers decide that a character who’s smarter than both protagonists combined could well do with a bit of the good ol’ lobotomizing.

Status: Dead

Importance: Supermegadoublemajor

On her own: The stupid nature of her demise and occasional wooden acting do their best but never overshadow the awesome that’s Ruby.

Lisa Braeden

Dean’s past fling who becomes a living symbol of his desire for the white-picket fence. Is implied to possess mad financial skills as she owns property on a yoga teacher’s salary while a single mom below the age of 30. A blank slate the likes of Cassie, she’s salvaged by better acting. Frequent frowning suggests the presence of an inner life though it doesn’t tend to manifest itself on screen or affect the plot. Her single established trait—blow-out assertiveness the moment things get too far—is exercised mostly in service to her son. Exists solely to give Dean something to pine for.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Major

On her own: A tertiary character who so-so sustains her own episode.

Bela Talbot

The best expansion of the show’s lore after the host of heaven, she’s unequivocally a bad person who nevertheless evokes huge amounts of sympathy. A cynical self-serving dealer in supernatural objects who mirrors Dean’s cracking tough guy persona, due to her abuse and the resulting trauma she refuses to open up and rely on anyone out of principle, or be indebted to them. Her pride makes her clinically unable to ask for help until it’s too late, and even forego mentioning personal history when it’d actively benefit her by softening the horrible impression others have of her. Switching between being an antagonist and the duo’s reluctant ally, she manages to outwit them roughly 90% of time. The fact that she has sexual tension with Dean while Sam lusts after her to the point of literal drooling sends fans apoplectic.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: A complex character brought down by her own flaws.

Casey

A demon, she’s torn between wanting to enact the Apocalypse and just chilling with her soulmate. Definitely a fanfic reader because her idea of dealing with danger is to shut herself with her enemy in a room and have a lengthy theological debate. Very outspoken about humanity’s propensity for evil. Outcomplexes Lilith and to a lesser extent Ruby as she’s allowed to openly address her life philosophy. While the dialogue format of her scenes is designed to give Dean space to talk about his feelings regarding his impending demise, it’s more or less an equal push-pull exchange. She’s smart, captivating, capable, and in love, i.e. things SPN just isn’t interested in keeping around.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor in the overall narrative, major in the episode and Dean’s development

On her own: Could have been so good if allowed to stick around

Gertrude Case

A rich elderly creep whose gropy ways are played for laughs because she’s a woman I guess. Either can’t read social cues or doesn’t give a fuck about people’s obvious discomfort. But don’t worry, it’s hilarious. She’s a woman, you see. What harm have those ever done.

Status: I’m going to assume dead by now, otherwise alive as of s5

Importance: A major figure in Sam’s life since she sexually assaulted him. Otherwise minor.

On her own: Sexual harassment is fun, kids

Lucy

Take Molly McNamara, strip her of any pretence at thematic relevance, minimize her importance while playing up her suffering, and then remove her like a broken Christmas decoration while making sassy remarks—voilà, you’ve ended up with the exact simplistic image that pops into one’s head when the words Supernatural and women are mentioned in a sentence.

Status: Dead

Importance: Non-existent

On her own: Just… why

Astaroth

Approaches awesomehood as her demonic business operation is built around preying on bored suburban hausfraus and taking their souls in exchange for magical powers, which they then use to secure benign materialistic keeping-up-with-the-joneses crap and devour one another like a bunch of assholes whose death you can’t help but eagerly anticipate. Srsly, eff those ladies. Stands out as the only (implied) lesbian in the Kripke arc.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor, not even the real monster of the week when compared to the coven

On her own: There’s probably another discussion about Doylist sexism hidden around somewhere that I’m not really interested in having. Go Astaroth.

Nancy Fitzgerald

Sugar and spice and every other cliché about kindness combined in a pretty sweet package. Plot demands her to be a virgin for some reason, even though this aspect of her character doesn’t amount to anything in the story and only serves to contrast Nancy’s… purity with Ruby who we’re being constantly told is a “slut” and a “whore” and I have no idea how that’s supposed to work. Then again, Nancy’s virginity is framed as a valid personal choice in a rather empowering moment so that’s good. Has standards because even after deciding to let go of her chastity vow, she won’t settle for just any loser who happens to stand around converting oxygen into CO2. Her “cause manpain out of nowhere”-type death is one of the few of this category in the show which actually work because the cruel pointless nature of it is precisely the point (and at least she’s not the only one who doesn’t survive, please ignore how the episode literally says her demise is the most tragic because she never got laid, barfs).

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor

On their own: A textbook definition of a cinnamon

Lilith

An overarching menace that doesn’t spend too much time on screen, she’s a prop rather than her own person. This gets highlighted the moment the show stops casting her as a clichéd creepy child who likes to larp as that Twilight Zone kid, and turns her into the standard hawt chick in a will-they-won’t-they episode. No interiority as she goes along with a plan which requires her obliteration, without at least allowing her to explore her religious motivation. Ruby does all the heavy lifting in this partnership.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: For the life of me I can’t make sense of her actions in s4. But the clichéd creepy kid is adorbs so points for memorability.

Maggie Zeddmore

The straight man to the Ghostfacers’ utterly delightful douchefacery. Manages to keep up with Harry and Ed in terms of hilarity because not only is she exactly as out of place as them, she decides to role-play her childhood-friends-to-lovers fanfic in the middle of a haunted house as the best sister that she is.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor

On her own: Love at first geek

Next, season 4 and 5 before I try to figure out what this all adds up to.

#spn #spn critical #supernatural #supernatural critical #sexist writing #tessa #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #madison #ruby #bela talbot #lisa braeden #nancy fitzgerald #lilith

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GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

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Everyone ready for the very definitely final battle with the very definite ultimate enemy of the series? Yeah, me too!

8.03 – The Long Night

(2:00) I hope people may be able to forgive me for somewhat sparse commentary this episode. So much of it is fight scene, and so little of it is visible.

(2:44) Sam’s going on a West Wing-style walking tour of Winterfell. The main action’s in the back, and this isn’t the worst way to survey the exposition – watching Lyanna Mormont mobilise, learning that the enemy’s visible from the west wall, hearing the call for the gates to close. No story can show everything, there are points where we need the exposition, and this is more dynamic and better connected to the upcoming action than people standing around a table expositing. Or watching a flashback and expositing.

The visual handover from Sam to Tyrion here still makes me think of this as a relay race, though.

(3:49) The darkness and the tight shots are supposed to be atmospheric, but they fail in one key way – they don’t let us know what’s actually going on. You see a guy with a beard, that guy could be almost anyone, ‘cause you can only see about a quarter of his face, dimly. Shot selection tells me that this guy sure does have hands, though, so…I guess it’s not Jaime we’re looking at. (I think it was the Hound.)

(4:31) Peering through the pitch darkness of the cinematography, we can more or less make out the Unsullied getting into position for some serious Hollywood tactics.

(4:37) Looking at these teeny tiny little braziers in front of the catapults reminds me of something. Nobody’s mentioned fuel for fires this season as far as I can recall. We’ve had discussions about food for winter, but…firewood is appearing out of nowhere. Nobody’s talked about fuel as a resource, especially when it comes to fighting ice monsters. Nobody’s talked about the desirability of light for night fighting yet, or the need to keep people warm. There are all these ways the writers could have introduced real challenges for the main characters, let them show off how clever and thoughtful they are, and instead…

(5:03) This shot of Gray Worm here is the first of these shots of ranked soldiers that gives us a sense of the geography – look, you can see Winterfell and its walls in the background. Yay for giving us a visual cue of how these people are deployed, a necessary precondition of a conflict that is more than “smash the armies against each other!” Boo for stationing the Unsullied outside the freaking walls.

(5:29) First line of the episode! Thanks Edd!

(5:48) A rare sighting of the elusive direwolf.

(6:32) Wait, where are Dany and Jon watching this from? If that’s Winterfell, all lit up in the background there, then they made it a pretty good distance from the crypts to outside Winterfell’s walls in quite possibly hostile territory – ah, fuck it. Like we didn’t already know the show’s going to sacrifice worldbuilding, theme, and even character for individual “that looks cool” moments.

(6:55) Of course, the other big problem with not being able to see what’s going on is that the tension generated by fear of the unknown turns into “I’m just sitting here staring at a blank screen, aren’t I?” There’s a dark shape moving around out there, but damned if you can tell what it is. There’s nothing to look at, nothing much to hear. Hasn’t been for some minutes now.

(7:28) It turns out to be Melisandre, who’s here for some deus ex machina. Both in the sense that her presence is deus ex machina, and that she’s here to provide deus ex machina.

(7:37) Melisandre asks Jorah a simple yes or no question here. It takes Jorah three seconds to nod.

(7:43) Melisandre issues a simple instruction to Jorah here.

(7:57) Jorah follows that instruction here, fourteen seconds later. It’s too dark for us to see the expression of doubt working its way across Jorah’s face, and the directors actually pull back so his emoting is even less visible. Twenty seconds to get through this exchange. The action is just rocketing along.

Oh, and incidentally, what this shot does actually make clear is that there is no visible Dothraki leadership, just a few guys we vaguely recognise standing in the front ranks. The white guy has to take charge of their armies for them. Compare and contrast with Grey Worm, indisputably in charge of the Unsullied, but also the only Unsullied we know and recognise.

(8:19) Note that even though Jorah didn’t raise his voice, there are Dothraki several ranks back raising their arakhs. Best hearing on two continents.

(8:41) The moment when every viewer said “Praise R’hllor!” for we can finally see.

(9:17) The drama with Melisandre lighting all those swords ends here, with Jorah acknowledging Melisandre’s service and turning towards where the enemy will be approaching from.

(10:37) Melisandre and Davos exchange dialogue here. Because we wouldn’t have understood a) that Melisandre was let into Winterfell and b) Davos was unhappy about it without the full minute and a half of Melisandre riding to the castle walls and Davos hurrying down the steps to meet her.

There’s nothing extraordinary about Mel’s short little ride inside. Nothing extraordinary about Davos’ trip (and we can still barely see the emoting, because it’s too dark). Nothing that justifies ninety seconds of film here, not outside a moody character drama with these two in more important roles. Here, in a series where we’re about to start an apocalyptic scale battle (allegedly), have already been kept waiting ten minutes, and where these two are secondary characters at best, we need to keep it moving along. We have to prioritise. A shot of Mel riding towards the keep or entering, a shot of Davos’ angry face and him turning to go meet her, cut to the actual meeting. There we go.

(10:55) Melisandre stares meaningfully at Arya. Oh boy. It’s almost unbelieveable that thiswouldn’t be the worst writing of the entire series.

For context, these two last met back in season three. They shared one scene. Exchanged maybe three lines of dialogue. Melisandre has not mentioned Arya since, but focused her efforts on Stannis and Jon. Arya’s mentioned Mel a few times, mostly in the context of Gendry-related trauma. In seven and a half seasons of television, that’s one scene and half a dozen lines where these characters’ arcs have intersected in any meaningful way.

We are currently thirty seconds from what has been built up as the most important battle of the series kicking off in earnest.

You better believe I will have more to say on this later.

(11:45) Whatever you say about the tactics (because you cannot say anything good), this is much better use of light and darkness here, establishing the flaming swords as a visual representation of the army’s movement.

(13:05) And the subsequent dying of those flames as a representation of the army’s defeat, without having to show us every detail of the failure of the charge. Gee, who could have guessed a frontal charge by an inferior force into pitch darkness and snow might not have worked out so good? Certainly not our very clever main characters.

I find myself thinking of the Two Towers movie and the cavalry charges that marked the climax of the Helm’s Deep battle.

The other issue, which I’m not quite sure how to address, is the mass death of the Dothraki. Right here and now, at this point in the show, the Dothraki are the only culture not European-inspired and not played by white people. And also not covered up by armour all the time, see the book!canonically racially diverse Unsullied (and we’ll talk more about how they’re depicted by the end of the season). It’s the old ‘black guy dies first’ trope taken to horrible extremes. An entire polity and culture killed off because they served no further purpose in the plot (a plot where we’ve still got a pretty damned large cast, and yet only two people of colour with speaking roles). The only idea for “resolving” the challenges this group pose politically is to kill them off. That’s what this looks like right now.

Yet what we’re going to see over the next few episodes are the Dothraki randomly reappearing. The show got incredibly sloppy in its final season – I haven’t had a high opinion of the show since season five, and I’m finding it hard to believe how sloppy it got – but this is boggling. The writers kinda forgot they killed off the Dothraki, I guess.

So I’m not entirely sure how to critically approach this moment, beyond concluding that the writers just weren’t thinking about the role of the Dothraki in their own worldbuilding, and aren’t showing much in the way of broader sensitivities regarding killing off almost all characters of colour.

(14:13) Some survivors are galloping back, in complete and total silence. Nobody has anything to say about this, nobody’s inconveniently panicking at the state of the survivors. None of the survivors themselves are inconveniently panicking, or even trying to report any information. Every extra knows they can’t say a word in case it drowns out a main character speaking. It doesn’t feel real that every person on this battlefield would have the exact same reaction to the tension. Again I find myself thinking of Helm’s Deep, where a) the pre-battle silence didn’t last fifteen goddamn minutes and b) right in the middle of it, you had Gimli and Legolas with a moment of comic relief.

(14:30) Dany moves to act and protect the people who followed her all the way from Essos from being slaughtered by zombies. You know, I’ve just got a bad feeling about her intentions. Seems pretty suspicious to me.

(15:28) Finally! We finally see some zombies in this zombie apocalypse showdown! For a given value of the word “see”!

Mind you, if you’re here for my commentary, this might not be the best thing, because a lot of this episode is “and there was more zombie fighting, and there was more zombie fighting, so on, so forth…”

(16:10) The power of Jaime’s love for Brienne gives him enough fighting skills to assist her in combat despite missing his dominant hand. Essentially, a few training sessions with Bronn resolved Jaime’s physical difficulties arising from missing his fucking hand. Book!Jaime has trouble lacing up his clothes, rolling up letters, climbing ladders, crawling, things like that. I’m having trouble remembering similar from show!Jaime since, what, season four? And absolutely no trouble remembering the use of Jaime’s prosthetic hand as a gag mid-fight scene.

(16:17) Dragons first show up here. This is shown in closest proximity to Jaime, who had a bit of a run-in with Dany and Drogon last season. In a better structured show, this becomes a moment that shows how Jaime’s opinion of Daenerys and her use of power has changed over the course of that intervening season. Something that shows that even if the physical circumstances are very similar, the context of being in the middle of a battle with a woman spraying dragonfire on the ground has changed.

(16:47) Also in a better-written show, this moment where Sansa and Arya watch the dragons effectively barbecuing huge numbers of wights is where they realise “oh, holy shit, we really would have been fucked if Daenerys didn’t decide to help us.” Note that this is not exclusive of the realisation that Dany could do serious damage to a city or opposing army of regular human beings the exact same way.

(18:18) A wall of white fog advances over the battlefield. This is bad, as it further reduces visibility. Also something something Night King.

(19:55) Dolorous Edd is the first of the second-string cleanout to die.

(20:05) Sansa enters the crypts here, and we follow her through the darkness for fifteen seconds before getting a shot of, you know, the room she’s looking at. Sansa’s back isn’t doing much emoting. This is not like the shot of Dany’s back in 6.09, where the fighting in Meereen in the background gives context to the facial expressions we’re not seeing, generating tension for when we do actually get to see her face and the details of her reaction. This is just fifteen seconds of a woman’s back in a hallway too dark to see much at all. We don’t need to see every step Sansa takes in the hallway to understand she’s walking through the hallway. This can be, and should have been, tightened up.

I hate that I keep saying it, but it keeps fucking happening. Edit your show!

(20:41) In a similar vein, we don’t need thirty seconds of Sansa walking through the room and Tyrion walking through the room in order to establish that these characters are going to meet and exchange information. The actual ten-second unspoken exchange between Sansa, Tyrion and Missandei works well, though, and it’s something that works specifically because of the skill of the actors.

(22:55) Tactical situation – retreat into Winterfell itself. After most of the ground forces have been smashed. Flippin’ genius. Dany and Jon are flying through some icy fog and undead dragon noises.

(23:08) This aerial shot of the Unsullied protecting the retreat with their unsurpassed discipline would have been much more effective if the subject matter was visible. I am watching this in a darkened room, face inadvisably close to my computer, and I still can’t really tell what’s going on beyond movement in unison.

(23:28) Ah, you see, Jon calls out for Dany in the midst of battle, but Dany is focused on her goals. Another worrying sign. Everyone make your firebreaks!

(26:59) Tactical situation – trenches unlit. Nothing’s going to make the tactics any better here, and I don’t think the showrunners are even trying to balance the Rule of Cool with tactical plausibility, but they can string together action scenes. While those actions scenes inevitably reflect an ethos of “we’re going to make this as awesome as we possibly can” rather than “we’re going to use the rules of the setting we’ve established to make an awesome scene,” the only thing the fight scenes are suffering from are the fact that I don’t care about these characters any more. And that’s not a problem with the fight scenes.

(28:45) You know, if it was possible for a Watsonian character to be a Doylist MVP, I’m nominating Melisandre just for lighting the episode for us.

(30:02) “At least we’re already in a crypt.” I think that might have been the first joke of the episode! Seriously, though, it’s been half an hour before we had any gallows humour.

(30:37) This is actually related to my problems with Sansa this episode, and the marked contrast between her now and her back in season two. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that she’s as bad as Cersei was during the Battle of the Blackwater by any means. Nevertheless, the writers seem to think that Sansa’s grim appraisal of the situation is clear-eyed and praiseworthy. As she says, “It’s the most heroic thing we can do right now, look the truth in the face.” (At 31:05.)

What Sansa got better, even in “Blackwater” (written by GRRM), was the importance of keeping up morale. Sansa here is not a comforting or inspirational figure. It’s a bit of a slap in the face that this character, who was so good at giving small bits of comfort to others when she had nothing else to give and because there was nothing else she could do, has gone backwards.

(31:44) Missandei points out, quite rightly, that without Dany’s assistance this battle would already be lost. In spite of being right, and clearly so, this doesn’t actually provoke any re-evaluation of attitude. It’s just a one-liner. It doesn’t mean anything.

(32:51) This Theon and Bran scene, seriously. Alfie Allen has been consistently Too Good For This since season three, and here he is in a scene with a character directed to show minimal emotion. It’s not a good contrast.

Related problem: it is incredibly hard to relate to a character who is totally unaffected by sitting out as bait for the unkillable superzombie while his family are fighting and potentially dying and the world potentially ending.

(33:54) More than half an hour into this final battle, we’re at last seeing the Night’s King and the zombie dragon.

(36:09) Tactical situation – zombies are now charging the walls. Dragons intermittently swooping around but largely ineffective.

(38:55) We’re even past most of the dodgy tactics, now, and we’re seeing our characters on the losing side of the fight. The show’s doing a good job of conveying this right now. Like I said earlier, I’m finding these scenes unsatisfying because the character development earlier has resulted in me honestly not caring very much.

(39:55) I didn’t comment on the first shot, but now it’s a bit more prominent, I’m also glad that the showrunners remembered that Sandor has fire-related trauma. As in, this isn’t a matter of cowardice, this is a matter of being overwhelmed by PTSD.

(41:39) “We’re fighting Death! We can’t beat Death!” “Tell [Arya] that!” I’m going to be generous and count that as foreshadowing, or at least intentional dramatic irony. Guess what this makes this statement! That’s right! The FIRST bit of foreshadowing directly and in hindsight unambiguously related to Arya’s defeat of the Night King. (No, Melisandre’s “eyes” speech is not foreshadowing that meets that criteria. That’s a blatant retcon.) 42 minutes into the episode where she kills him.

(42:10) Lyanna Mormont is the second of our second-string cleanout to die. It’s slow, painful, and gruesome. You can hear the cracking. This show certainly is edgy.

(42:57) Hey, my favourite shots of the episode! After a lot of murky flying through icy fog, the dragon chase breaks into the clear moonlight above the clouds. It’s just nice to look at, and a good way to kick into the actual dragon fight. Reorients things effectively.

Just…try not to pay attention to how neither Dany’s nor Jon’s hair is moving much in the breeze.

(44:03) Arya starts sneaking through the wight-infested halls of Winterfell here.

(46:26) Some of Arya’s blood drips on the stone floor. The zombie hears that. Just to establish the level of senses we’re talking about.

(48:33) And four and a half minutes later, scene change. No dialogue. No idea how this affected the broader tactical situation except in Arya’s continued survival. While I understand the value of having a tense scene of a main character sneaking through the halls of their own home in fear for their life and increasingly unsure how long they can keep it up, four and a half minutes? That’s about half the amount of time as we spent watching the fight outside of Winterfell.

The cut to the crypts establishes that the fighting has reached the entrance of the crypt.

(49:50) And for contrast, that scene watching the characters in the crypt realise that the fighting had come to them took a minute and a half. Again, no dialogue, but there were more characters whose reactions we could see.

(52:11) You know, with the sheer number of wights it was established the defenders were facing, and the apparent disintegration of the defending forces, I’m kind of wondering why there are so many empty rooms about the place.

(52:30) Third to die in our second-string cleanout is Beric Dondarrion, who was stabbed a few minutes ago in a do-not-pass moment to save Arya and Sandor.

(53:36) Melisandre here retcons the eyes speech to mean that Arya will kill the Night King. 52 minutes into the episode where Arya kills the Night King. There was never any reason to think of that speech as relating to the Night King until right this second. It is a blatant retcon.

This is bullshit. Or tripe, but whatever it is, it came out of a bovine’s digestive system. More when the moment itself comes, but for the moment let’s focus on how this affects Melisandre’s characterisation.

Again, since she mete Arya in season three, her storyline has been focused on Stannis and Jon. Once Stannis failed, she brought Jon back from the dead. Last season, she showed up to Dany’s plot basically to say “hey, Jon’s important, the relationship between Dany and Jon is important, and I’ll see you all for my death scene next season!” And now it turns out, on the strength of one interaction, more than four seasons ago, Melisandre’s story was actually about Arya? Without any sort of emotional reaction from Melisandre, to boot. If you’re thinking this isn’t playing fair with character development…I think you’re right.

(54:03) “What do we say to the God of Death?” “Not today.” That is the only good thing the show does with that. The only thing. And even that, I think, is laden with a misunderstanding of the evil the Night King represents in the book – the Others of the books are slavers who force humans and animals alike to do their bidding even after death. Which is how Dany maintains a thematic connection to the primary threat of the series even when she’s not on the same continent as the action. Her work in Slaver’s Bay is prep work for the end of the series.

(54:56) The fight now arrives at the godswood.

(55:13) Here we see undead!Viserion’s fire blast through the walls of Winterfell.

(56:21) I haven’t mentioned it for a while, but it is seriously nearly impossible to see what’s going on. Vital, climactic dragon fight, and we don’t actually get to see it.

(58:04) The Night King tanks a full on blast of dragon fire. He can do this because reasons. And these reasons are “the showrunners wanted to subvert expectations.”

(59:03) Well, now that a faceful of dragonfire has failed for reasons unknown, it’s time for Jon to step in. Okay, that makes a good amount of sense. Jon’s entire storyline has dealt with the threat of the White Walkers. Hell, Jon and the Night King even had their staredown back in season five. So clearly it’s time for Jon to take on the Night King directly.

(59:46) Nope! Jon does not fight the Night King. Instead he gets surrounded by garden variety wights.

(1:00:00) This little breathing space where everyone the protagonists have managed to kill stands right back up again does work well as a darkest hour.

(1:01:31) Meanwhile, in the crypts, nobody has apparently realised that the dead bodies there might also be raised. Also nobody down there has any idea how to fight or any weapons on hand, so this was well thought through all round.

(1:04:22) Jorah Mormont out of fucking nowhere to rescue Dany.

(1:07:10) Ramin Djawadi here starts his bid for the real MVP of the episode. Though we all know that he’s the MVP of the entire season.

(1:09:01) Try to ignore how Jon’s ducking behind stone pillars to avoid Viserion’s fire, despite this exact fire blasting through those exact walls fifteen minutes ago.

(1:11:21) Alfie Allen, still too good for this.

(1:12:57) Jon comes face to face with zombie Viserion. Ah, okay! So if he’s not going to kill the Night King, he’s at least going to take out a zombie dragon, right? Well. Not happy with that as a culmination of his story, but, you know, still damned impressive.

(1:13:02) Jon ducking behind this little ridge of rubble here isn’t quite as bad as Indy hopping in that fridge…but it’s getting there.

(1:13:25) Fourth to die in the second-string cleanout is Theon.

(1:15:31) Oh. So Jon’s only going to scream at Viserion. Not fight him. Um. That’s…not at all a satisfying conclusion to Jon’s arc vis a vis the White Walkers. Not remotely.

Seven and a half seasons of buildup, and what Jon accomplishes in the fight itself is roughly equivalent to the achievements of any given surviving named character who participated in the battle. I don’t like “the main characters do everything,” but the main characters have got to do something. In particular, when a main character spends the entirety of his arc focusing on the one context, it really does feel unfair to the viewers when he doesn’t play a meaningful part in the resolution of that plot.

I will say this much: my expectations were certainly subverted. I expected the writers to play fair with storytellling conventions of setup and payoff.

(1:15:41) So. The wights could hear a drop of blood fall from across a room. The White Walkers can’t hear a girl running and screaming halfway across a forest. And this is honestly one of the least of the problems here.

(1:15:52) And so Arya kills the Night King. Arya. Who has had no meaningful story connection with the fight against the White Walkers. She was the last member of House Stark to return to Winterfell and the least involved in the preparations to fight. This comes perhaps a little bit out of left field.

The showrunners later stated that they chose Arya to kill the Night King specifically to subvert expectations. Meaning that they set up seven and a half seasons of other people being more involved with this plot and Arya not being very involved with this plot only to throw it away for a “fooled you!” While I’m sure it was satisfying to the writers, it’s not very much fun for a viewer. When we invest years in watching characters realise the extent of their problems and seek to solve them, having the writers yank the payoff away right at the very end with a “nope! Someone else solved it!’ is not a good return.

Plus, while “wow, wouldn’t have picked that!” is the end result, it’s not the “I wouldn’t have picked that!” which comes from creative use of foreshadowing and careful structural and thematic development so that everything falls into place in an unexpected yet logical way. This is the “I wouldn’t have picked that!” which resulted from there being nothing to pick at all. It’s a plot twist divorced from the plot.

(1:17:46) Fifth to die in the second-string cleanout is Jorah Mormont. Emilia Clarke doing her damnedest, as well. In a scene where everyone’s standing around like stunned mullets, Dany’s open grief is quite the contrast.

(1:18:59) I like the shot of the dawn here, which really helps to convey that yes, this is over and done.

Structurally, should it have been over and done? Almost certainly not! You could definitely do some scouring of the Shire, the post-action action which demonstrates the effects of the central conflict on our leads, but in terms of plot, this should have been it. There is no conflict greater in scale than this. The fight against the White Walkers should not have been a distraction from the fight over the Iron Throne. The fact that it was is just….did the showrunners read the books?

(1:19:45) Sixth and last to die in the second-string cleanout is Melisandre. Which closes out the episode.

Next time, the season starts to go really off the rails.

#anti got #fine toothed comb edition #season eight

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years

Text

Happy Coincidence Chance Discovery

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Piper, Jared Padalecki x Piper,

Characters: Dean Winchester /Jensen Ackles, mentions of Chad Michael Murray

Word Count:4367

Warnings: cursing, kissing, nudity, implied sex/genital fondling/teasing

*Jared and Jensen are single.

A/N: for @idreamofplaid Thanks for the Memories Challenge #plaid and the memories HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARED🎉

Prompt: Season 11, episode 4, Baby

A/N: Baby is my favorite episode but every time I’ve watched it I kept wondering; Sam’s hook up with Piper the waitress? So this is my fill in that blank with a Jared twist.

Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway

*No beta all mistakes are mine

Dean drives into the parking lot of a roadhouse just after dusk and Sam looks at the marquee shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Dean, it's late, I’m exhausted and..and.. and starving. And this place. I mean, even Swayze wouldn't come to this roadhouse.” Sam groused.

“First of all, never use Swayze’s name in vain, okay. Ever.” Dean chastises his brother for such a sacrilege, “Second, you don't remember this place? You don't remember Heather, the hunter we worked the wendigo case a couple years ago?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam partially smiles, remembering that night of fun.

“Yeah, exactly” Dean taking the same trip down memory lane.

“What, she’s here tonight?” Sam asks, perking up a bit.

“I texted her, she's working a rugaru case in Texas.” Dean says.

“Actually, she never texted me back. That's not the point, the point is that we have a ton of driving left to do just to go to a town where it's not probably a case.” Dean points ahead, “But in there, good times.”

“Uh...” Sam hedges looking at the building.

“But time heals all wounds, especially good times. What do ya say?” Dean looks at his brother hopeful.

“I say... knock yourself out.” Sam answers with his usual reply and Dean looks away, “I'm gonna find a diner and dig into the lore like Cas did, see if anythings ever happened where we’re headed.”

“Ah man, you really got to learn to have fun.” Dean’s reply was full of disappointment in his little brother.

“Seriously. It’s pathetic.”

They both climb out of the Impala. Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and starts walking back towards town as Dean heads into the roadhouse.

***

Sam had walked over a mile looking for somewhere to eat. Being Saturday night he thought there’d be more open but that’s small town living, the streets roll up at noon on the weekends.

He was about to give up and hike back to that mom & pop gas station he passed for a microwave burrito, preferably bean to get back at Dean, when he happened upon a small, local place, Mak’s Diner.

Hitching his bag up, he pushed open the door expecting the usual greasy spoon Dean's unerring sense navigates towards and stops just inside the front door.

It was an older establishment, obviously one of those passed down from generation to generation places but to his surprise it was well maintained, despite the C on the marquee being burnt out.

“Evening, have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. Sam walked past the counter smiling at only other occupants, an elderly couple having coffee and dessert, heading towards the back where family seating was located.

As he passed the next to last booth he noticed a closed laptop, several open books with notes scrawled around their margins, highlighted paragraphs and a few notebooks scattered on its tabletop.

He dropped the bag on the seat and shed his jacket before sliding into the booth, fishing out his laptop and the legal pad that he had started making more notes on earlier.

“Hey there, what can I get you?”

Picking up the menu laying by his elbow Sam glances through it, “Coffee and the Cobb salad, thanks.” He orders closing the menu and looking up to hand it to the waitress. She is differently not what he would have expected to find in a backwater burg like this one.

Her makeup is understated, nails painted a neutral color and her copper hued hair is pulled back in an elegant chiffon, not a high ponytail or hastily bobby pinned up-do, held in place with a real silver clip, the type that’s handed down as an heirloom.

“Just the Cobb salad?” She asked looking under the tabletop, taking in Sam’s long legs somewhat stretched out under it, boots bumping against the other side of the circular booth. Her blue/grey eyes slowly travel up appraising his body till they meet his.

“Big boys like you need more than a few leafy greens for stamina.”

Sam felt himself blushing like he was seventeen again. Waitresses blatantly flirt with Dean and vice versa all the time so he’s taken aback by this woman's more than blatant appraisal of his physique.

“I, um, yeah, ju..just the salad.” Sam stammers out.

“Okay, be back with that coffee.” Her smiles genuinely, not that faked for the customers sake one he’s used to.

Sam appraises her retreating figure like she did him. She’s not wearing the nurses white or black rubber soled shoes that’s usual waitress gear he’s seen but a brand of tennis shoes he knows are out of the typical income of career restaurant staff.

The fifties style, yellow uniforms color is completely unflattering, not fitting her right, way too tight around her bust and hips and far shorter than it should be, her mile long legs on display.

Sam shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly palm down his spontaneous erection but not so little Sam is putting up a fight, making it known it's been way too long since he’s gotten wet and he wants to enjoy her junoesque attributes.

***

While he is waiting for a page to load Sam hears the elderly couple preparing to leave. He watches as the husband helps his wife into her jacket and gently takes her hand, resting it in the crook of his arm as they slowly make their way to the exit, feeling the pang of loneliness that’s his constant companion.

“Mr. Reynolds’s, hang on a sec,” the waitress calls from the kitchen emerging with a white cake box tied shut, “Auntie wanted me to make sure you got this before leaving. She’s sorry she missed your anniversary party.”

“You tell her we missed her, needs to hurry up and get well.” Mrs. Reynolds remarked as her husband took the box with his free hand. She glanced back towards Sam, “Sweetie, you gonna be okay here with the likes of him?”

Sam kept his expression neutral, waiting to see how this plays out. He knew people found him intimidating because of his size and being a stranger in a small town, he definitely stands out but not many were that blatant about it.

“He ordered a Cobb salad, I think I can handle him,” she jested winking at him.

The couple bid her goodnight and she went back into the kitchen, Sam realizing they were now all alone. Sighing, he starts reading the info again trying to figure out what exactly their hunting is. Or not.

He was so focused on his research like usual he didn’t acknowledge the waitress standing there with his order.

“Kmm hmm,” Sam’s head snapped up, “must be something really good if you don’t notice the likes of me.” She chided him setting down a coffee decanter and cup.

“Sorry, guess I was kinda caught up.” Sam moves the laptop and notepad over as she sets down his salad and two types of dressing. “Figured you might not be a ranch type of guy so I grabbed the vinaigrette too.”

“Thanks, I prefer vinaigrette, don’t usually get offered it.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people which is why I also brought you this,” she set down another plate with a lettuce wrapped, curiously colored and, by the smell, not meat burger with all the fixings, a generous helping of baked sweet potato fries and a green colored milkshake.

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know but it cooks night off and I’m trying some new recipes. Seeing as you're the only other one here, you've been conscripted as my guinea pig.” She slid into the other side of his booth where an identical plate rested, “I wasn’t kidding about you needing more than just a salad. Besides, I hate eating alone, you wouldn’t believe how often it happens. Fuck, where’s my manners, I’m Piper.” She stuck her hand out across the table.

He takes her preferred hand amazed how it fits perfectly in his, “Sam.”

“So Sam, figure out what you're hunting yet?” She asked nonchalantly as she picked up her burger, “Cause, not being judgey, but that’s some really random shit you got there.” She takes a bite, watches as his expression bounces between startled and incredulous.

“How…”

“Saw your Tarsus 99 when you took off your jacket. I had one as a kid, then daddy got killed on a hunt and I got sent here to live with Auntie, she doesn’t cotton to hunting.”

Piper picked up a fry pointing it at him, “But what I really wanna know, where the hell did you get that demon blade, ‘cause I’ve never seen one like it before.”

Sam hesitates, “That’s a long story.”

“Don’t close till one and I’ve got nowhere to be after.”

Sam decides to deflect instead of answering. “So what is it you do, because you're definitely not a waitress.”

“Officially, I’m an antique appraiser. Unofficially, I’m helping a wayward hunter who graced my door with something he can’t figure out.”

***

Sam and Piper, after closing the diner, stayed another three hours hashing out the research for his case were now taking their time walking back towards the roadhouse.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, what’s with that name tag?” Sam noticed early it read Maggie.

“Came with this god awful uniform. Auntie insists that we all adhere to how her daddy ran the place. So when I came back to temporarily help out after her surgery, Maggie decided she was not gonna take orders from someone younger, quit and I got stuck with this. I told Auntie it wouldn’t fit, even with letting out the hem. Maggie was like five-four and I’m over five-ten!

Ugh! I keep popping these stupid top buttons and can’t freaking bend over without showing everyone my C U Next Tuesday.”

Sam smiled that nervous smile he got when unsure how to respond to an answer he wasn’t expecting.

“I normally wear this to cover it,” moving her pocketed hands in the light weight, knee length sweater she had put on when they left the diner, “but I have to confess,” Piper turned around, walking backwards, “I took it off when I saw you come in, thought what the hell, been long time since a really cute guy has walk through my door so...” She bit her lip, turning back around as they continued down the lane in companionable silence.

Sam mused over her confession admitting to himself he was interested in her too. He enjoyed sharing different theories and bouncing ideas of what they might be hunting back and forth with her, surprising him with her unique take on things.

Piper might not have been the type he consciously steered towards since Jess but she was comfortable to be around, didn’t feel his usual awkwardness he normally had around most women.

They arrived at the roadhouse a few minutes later and Sam led her towards the Impala.

“Damn, you brother is a fucking artist, how many times has he rebuilt her?” Piper asked walking around the car, running her hand over the Impalas pristine exterior.

“To many.” Sam replies, putting his bag on the front seat. “Can I have a look?” He turns to see Piper standing by the trunk. “Um, sure.” Strolling over he unlocks it and lifts the interior wheel well exposing the car's hidden armory.

“Is that a grenade launcher?”

“Yeah, Dean found it at the bunker.” Sam laughed remembering how excited Dean had been when he discovered it.

Piper shook her head shutting the trunk and hopped up on it, “What’cha wanna do now, go in,” gesturing at the bar, “or hang out here for a while longer?”

“I think I’m good hanging o...”

Piper grabbed his jacket dragging him between her spread legs and kissed him.

It took Sam all of five seconds to process what was happening before his hands grabbed her hips and tugged her to the edge of the trunk, her short skirt riding even higher as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

Sam jerked back as headlights flashing over them, a patrol car drove into the parking lot. He lifted Piper off the trunk and led her to the car's back door dragging the green cooler out of their way.

Piper climbed in as he hauled it to the trunk and grabs the army blanket Dean keeps then gets in depositing it and his jacket over the front seat.

“Where were we before being rudely interrupted?” Piper asked, sliding onto Sam’s lap and leaning in to resume kissing him.

Sam tangled his long fingers into her now loose hair pulling to halt her, “What about that patrolman?”

“Won’t be back till closing, around six A.M.”

“That means Dean won’t either,” he says closing the space between them, heatedly attacking her lips.

***

Piper ran her hand over his bare chest, “How long is your refractory period?”

Sam shifted to look down at her, “umm, around twenty minutes.”

“Hmmm, I’m gonna have to see what I can do to shorten that ‘cause we are so doing that more than once again.”

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Piper stared at him slowly trailing her hand down his torso. Sam’s breath hitched as she lightly teased her fingers across his lower stomach, running through his treasure trail and over to his hip.

Shifting further down his body she continued running her fingers over the top of his left thigh feeling the hard muscles flexing under the skin. She placed both of her hands in between his legs shifting his left one off the seat and bending his right leg back placing his foot flat on the bench seat.

Piper kneels in the space between Sam’s spread legs continuously moving her fingers in random patterns over the insides of both tights, touching him everywhere below his waist.

Sam closed his eyes groaning loudly, dropping his head back against the window as her fingers played over his balls feeling her other hand travel behind them teasing over his...

“You fell asleep in the fucking car!”

His eyes snapped open startled. Blinking rapidly he sees Dean leaning through the open car window looking at him.

“Dean what...where’s Piper?”

“What’s a Piper?” He growled out, “Dude, we wrapped twenty minutes ago and I’ve been looking for you, got worried cause you weren’t answering your fucking phone Jay!”

He took a good look at Dean. His foggy brain finally realizing its mistake, taking in the headset hanging around his neck and the ball cap he likes wearing when directing. “Jen, sorry, guess I’m still in Sam headspace, got disoriented for a sec.”

Jensen laughed, “You find one grey hair and suddenly you're getting memory loss and needing naps? I’ll have to remember to have you in bed by nine, old man.”

“Your fucking hilarious Jack.” Jared shoots back sliding across the seat getting out, “Man, I had the weirdest dream.”

“From the happy noises you were making that was far from weird. And speaking of happy,” Jensen's eyebrows went up as he pointedly looked down.

Jared glances down thinking he’s drooled all over himself only to see the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Bob’s called a meeting in five but I think we’re gonna be late.”

***

“I’m telling you it was so real! She was tall with coppery blond hair, tasted like chocolate peppermint and has this tattoo above her...” Jared paused grinning, keeping that specific location to himself, “I’ve never in my life had such a vivid dream like that.”

“Dude, you like petite brunettes.”

“I know..so why would I make her a redhead?”

“Hell if I know, it’s your giant melon. Maybe all that sugar ribbon you eat is finally getting its revenge.” Jensen snarks as they enter the meeting room.

They were greeted by Bob’s gruff voice, “About time you two showed up. Alright, now that everyone is finally here, we need to get everyone up to speed. We’re having to make changes to the filming schedule.” He pauses looking at him notes, “Jared, don’t need you to come tomorrow for those new promo shots with, what was that new character again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, Sam’s new love interest.”

“Right, anyways, writers scraped that idea. As some of you heard, several of our exterior locations got flooded with that last storm and it’s taking time to find new locations so instead of doing blocking we're gonna do a quick read through of the new episode.”

Jared opened his copy of the new script to episode 4: Baby.

Reading the opening scene he experiences deja vu, quickly scanning the first two pages: bunkers garage: Dean washing the Impala, Sam having a possible case in Oregon. Next scene: interior shot Impala, Sam gets a protein shake out of cooler, Dean wants to know about the beer. Next scene: pulling in roadhouse parking lot, Dean trying to get Sam to join him, goes to eat instead, shot from Impala view watching Dean walking. Next scene: daybreak continuing from the view of the car...

“Fuck me.” Jared whispers, catching Jensen's attention. “What’s wrong?”

“This is how my dream started.”

Jensen pulls a yeah right face.

Jared shifted in his chair leaning closer to Jensen, looking directly into his green eyes, “I’ll prove it. Next scene: Dean gets in the car at daybreak and a naked waitress pops up in the backseat with a voice-over from Sam. Dean gets out peeping in the driver's side back window at her getting dressed. Cut to next scene: Sam climbs into front seat buttoning his flannel as he apologizes for having sex in Dean’s car. Dean, happy his brother finally got laid drives off quoting Bob Sager lyrics, playing Night Moves and Sam changing a lyric.

Jared continued to lay out the entire episode from memory as Jensen flips through the script following.

“Bullshit Jared, someone snuck you a copy of this script, you're totally fucking with me.”

“Jensen, not this time.”

***

Jared walked back to his trailer aggravated that Jensen won’t believe he didn’t get an advance peek of the script. He can’t shake this unsettling feeling that he was forgetting something important.

He was two steps into his trailer when his phone vibrated. Chad left a voicemail instead of texting, weird.

“Jay man, you gotta do me solid. A friend of mine got the part of Y/N on your show and I don’t know what the fucks happening up there but she flipped the fuck out on me! Need you to check on her, she’s outside one of the guest trailers. And have her call me back after she’s calmed the fuck down!”

Jared snorted, another woman pissed off at Chad, shocker. “The fuck you getting me into this time Murray.” Jared mutters to himself as he heads over to the guest stars trailers and hears a somewhat familiar voice outside of one.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? I get here and now they're telling me they’ve dropped the story line.”

There was a pause in conversation as Jared walked closer to hear more clearly over the lot's noises and was shocked when he saw her sitting on one of the trailer's steps.

“But I signed a contract...what? I don’t remember seeing that in there. So they can just arbitrarily drop the part with no notification, that’s bullshit! I’ve never had a clause like that in one before. I gave up my job and apartment for this!” She gets up and paces around not noticing him.

“They're giving me the bit part of the waitress in this episode, have a five am call for hair, getting a blonde rinse so I look more like a Dean type girl. I don’t know what the fuck is with these writers, it’s like they don’t get Sam, should’ve left him like Kripke originally created him.” She paused, “paying me what? At scale! That’ll just cover my petrol for the drive back to L.A. Wait, what about my six month lease? Could you check on it.”

“Oh, giving me two nights at the Hilton. How magnanimous of them,” she sarcastically replies, “can I still get that part on Arrow...cast someone else.” She abruptly ends the call and sits back down on the step slumping over her knees.

“So, how much of that fucked up conversation did you overhear?” She asked not looking at him.

“Um, almost all of it.” Jared confesses, “I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping but I got a voicemail from Chad,” she looked up staring in disbelief at Jared, “he’s worried and wanted me to check on you.”

“Fanfuckingtastic, can this day get any better? I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of Jared Fucking Padalecki!”

Jared can just make out her blushing in the still dimming light. “I wouldn’t say completely, I mean, you could drop your pants and yell Pudding.”

She blinked at him before doubling over in laughter, “Alright, point taken. Still, it’s a crock of shit you don’t need to be bothered with.”

“Chad’s kinda made it my problem. Look, I don't know all the details but maybe I can help, I can call casting..”

“Oh hell no! Thanks but no thanks. Bunch of assbutts on social media were already speculating about how someone like me got the part in the first place. Last thing I need is more ammo for the haters, they’ll tweet something like I had a three way with you and Ackles because I was desperate to get the part back.”

Jared cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair embarrassed to feel turned on by the imagery she conjured up in his mind.

“Mmm, that’d be my wet dream come true, but not the point, they’ll just come up with some random shit.”

Jared understood being all too familiar with the anti whatever’s having been the target himself.

“Okay, how about we go to my trailer,” she gave him a skeptical look, “where you can have some privacy to call Chad back. I’ll get de-Sam’d and we can talk some more or grab a bite if you're hungry.”

“You don’t know me from Adam, what if I’m some psychotic serial stocker nut job?”

“If your friends with Chad, you absofuckingloutley are Ms. what's your name.” Jared sarcastically remarks given her a mischievous grin.

“Touché, and it's Piper,” Jared froze at her name, “and you’ve been friends with Murry longer than me so I know you’re straight up batshit crazy.” She smarts back standing up, “lead on, oh gallant knight.”

***

Jared walked out of the bath toweling his wet hair sees Piper lounging on his couch still on the phone with Chad.

As he crossed over to the kitchen's fridge he couldn’t help but notice her low rise jeans had ridden lower, revealing the top half of the tattoo just above her..

“Dude, should’a told me Padalecki has a tattoo kink,” Jared tripped over his feet before catching himself embarrassed at getting caught, “Yeah, that was your boy.” She winked at him, “No way in hell I’m ever showing it to you perv.” Jared loudly laughs at that. “Hey, when I get back I’m PA’ing for you till I get another gig. Don’t you dare argue, you got me into this so it’s that or I’m on your couch for a month,” Piper rolled her eyes at Chad’s response, “Yeah, yeah, talk to you later.”

“Is that how you met Chad, working as a PA?” Jared inquired coming over to sit down next to Piper handing her a beer.

“Yeah, paid the bills while doing auditions, was starting to pick up a few bit parts around LA.” Piper starts nervously fiddling with the bottles label, “I heard about the casting call for a new Sam girl and Murry talked me into trying out for it, so I figured unless I kiss Crowley I don’t have a shot in hell and holy fuck, I got it.”

She stopped talking but kept playing with the label.

“Hey, whatever it is you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Jared says gently touching her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

She took a long pull of her beer before continuing. “My Auntie died and I inherited everything, including her debts. I negotiated a smaller settlement but it wiped out all my savings.” She paused draining the rest of her bottle. “I figured it was serendipity..”

Jared is half listening, feeling that uneasy sensation again at that last word.

“...gonna be Sam Winchester’s...”

“If we’re meant to meet again,”

“.. weren’t killing her off after three episodes but then they decided to drop that story line...”

“we will.”

“...I should be going. Thanks for the beer and letting bending your ear, I’m gonna get out of your hair.” Piper gets up heading for the door.

Jared finally remembers.

“I believe in serendipity..maybe you can too.”

He quickly jumped up moving between her and the door blurting out, “I know you said you didn’t want my help but you can’t go, not yet.”

“Okay, why not? ‘Cause any other time I’d be up for some wham bam thank you ma’am but so not in the mood right now.”

Taking a deep breath he goes for it, “So, get this, after we finished filming today, I fell asleep in the Impala and had this dream…”

***

Jared sat on the couch nervously chewing on his thumb watching as Piper paces back and forth mulling over his story.

She abruptly stopped and sat down on the table in front of him. “So here's the deal, I will believe everything you've told me,” Jared opens his mouth to say something but Piper reached out laying her fingers on his lips, “if you can answer one question.”

Jared took her hand remembering how it felt so right in his, “Okay.”

“Since you’ve seen it in your dream, what does my tattoo mean?”

“In Japanese, it means happy coincidence,” Jared confidently says sitting back as Piper climbs onto his lap, “but that's the first line, the second one is chance discovery.”

Jared pulls her in, brushing his lips against hers, running his tongue across them so she’ll part them , allowing him access. He can taste the beer they’ve been drinking but there’s that sumptuous flavor of her underneath he finds intoxicating..chocolate peppermint..thinking to himself..

Serendipity.

#plaid and the memories #Baby #sam winchester x piper #jared padalecki x piper #SPN Supernatural #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles

26 notes · View notes

septiembrre · 4 years

Text

GG Headcannons

Tagged by @sothischickshe. Thanks, boo ;-)

Ship: Beth x Rio -- in honor of our lovebirds day for GGWEEK2020

38. What is/are their love language(s)?

Haha, this has already made its way into one of my ficlets. I am also writing love languages into my next chapter of Better Be Mine. I can’t let it go!! I don’t actually care about them as tool for my irl relationship but it’s so easily identifiable for Brio. So my headcanons here...

Rio’s love languages:

Rio prefers to receive love through Quality Time.

Rio shows love through Physical Touch.

Beth’s love languages:

Beth prefers to receive love through Words of Affirmation.

Beth shows love through Acts of Service

49. Do they have differing political opinions?

Lol, @sothischickshe I can’t believe you tagged me in this!!!! Stop reading into the underlying vibes of Beth/Rio conversations in my fics!

So the short version of my response is: yes.

Now the absurdly long response:

I think about Rio & Beth a lot. I think about them talking about politicized issues quite a bit and imagine them in conversation with each other, teasing their beliefs apart. I like picturing these conversations instigated by hard parenting moments, things in the news, and things that come up as they finally start saying more words to each other. I think Rio could also just directly ask Beth about her political beliefs (I can’t necessarily picture the reverse yet).

I think Beth is definitely more conservative than Rio -- and that’s an assumption I make because Rio’s a Latinx guy who probably came up with lack of access to wealth, and Beth as a white woman in the suburbs who formerly perceived herself/her family as wealthy.

Beth’s characterization is complicated -- sometimes it really leans into Karen stereotypes/white woman privilege (lol, I cannot believe they literally had her show up at Gil’s workplace. I CRINGE!) and other times her beliefs and actions positively surprise me. Personally, in my fic writing, I love leaning into an idea that Beth grew up more working class/experienced neglect from her parents. I don’t want to romanticize these experiences but trauma around financial insecurity & complicated family relationships personally resonates with me. Ugh, I love writing about it, and it’s something that I read in her childhood that I like to lean into. That flashback in Season 2 really humanized Beth for me and it really made me love her.

Okay, that was a major digression about class, but her life experience must lend itself to her political beliefs. She married into a wealthier family -- a family that owned it’s own business, was financially stable and just... a family perpetuating all the harmful effects of white heterosexuality and problematic gendered labor. And she conformed to it! Beth diminished herself to make herself fit there, to find safety and stability, to feel worth. So, I think her politics as an adult are also “safe” and probably echo the popular moderate trends in normative, toxic parent groups. Honestly, irl as a queer WOC who is anti-capitalist and been forced to be political for my own self-preservation and preservation of folks I love, I would not seek out PTA Beth’s friendship for multiple reasons, but I still have such a soft spot for Beth as a character?

That being said, Beth in the context of Annie & Ruby is obviously a different Beth. She loosens up in these spaces, she speaks her mind much more freely and in these scenes she comes as a normal, relatable human and she’s funny and prim and awkward. I think she comes across as somewhat liberal but not particularly educated on the issues/progressive (as is the way most characters are characterized on network TV). In this vein, she throws around a lot of white privilege and because some of it has gone un-interrogated in the context of the show... I’m not sure how intentional these vibes are or if it’s just par the course of it being white-owned network TV. Obviously characters are allowed to make mistakes and do shitty things, but I wish there was more on-screen acknowledgement of race in the show, and more intentional naming of things. In regards to Ruby + Beth in particular, I feel like an American white woman can’t have a life-long/multi-decade friendship with a Black woman and not be intentional about acknowledging racism/the specific misogynoir that Black women face. But the show hasn’t really acknowledged this aspect of Ruby + Beth’s friendship...

*stares at the camera like I’m on The Office*

It would be such a rich opportunity to discuss the challenges of interracial friendship if done well. Also, what an opportunity to delve into what it’s like to maintain friendships across the years (um, it’s hard!!! Even with people you love so much! Tell us more about Beth & Ruby’s ups and downs!). Beth and Ruby care about each other so much. When they and Annie get friendship beats -- I cry! Just make it make more sense! If the show filled in these blanks, it would be so great. Beth is obviously awakening~ definitely so in regards to her gender and her power and it could shift her political opinions? The show definitely poked a little fun at her crime “wokeness” by having her push back on cultural appropriation with those other PTA parents. Just by the exposure of her own relationships, Beth has experience with the lack of American safety net, our terrible, impoverishing health-care system, and inaccessibility of higher education.

So, on one hand the show tries to do a thing where they equalize and don’t name race in the context of the three leads, “they’re three women”, but then they play on racial tropes with Beth and Rio’s relationship... I would like for their interracial relationship to be more overtly discussed/acknowledged outside of Rio’s somewhat performative call outs of Beth’s white lady fragility.

So anyway -- Rio’s politics. We don’t know a ton about Rio so we don’t have too much textual evidence to go off of. But, we do know that Rio picks at Beth’s facade of white women fragility all the time -- sometimes with more hostility and other times simply teasing. When I write him, I give him my own experiences of having to become well-versed discussing politicized issues by the default of growing up experiencing racism and xenophobia. Rio, like any Mexican-reading man, has probably been told to “go back to his country” throughout his life -- and I can’t imagine it not politicizing him... Though, conservative Latinx exist and constantly shock me with their assimilationist audacity. *stares at the camera like I’m on the office again* But, idk, it’s something about their characterization of him of being so worldly~~ I imagine him being informed and up-to-date on the American news. I want him throwing around his power and $$$ by donating to local, progressive candidates of color. But, this is all projection~ :-)

Ha, I feel like this was too critical of my forever otp (and on ship day to boot)!! And of Beth. The show has a habit of putting Beth through the physical and psychological wringer, and what I want instead is for our baby to be out of harm’s way, financially stable, divorced and independent, and also forced to interrogate the more harmful ways she deploys her whiteness. Lol, no one would watch my show. I know.

I love Beth & Rio. They thrill me. And like many others in the fandom, I often want to remove them from the GG canon and make them have harder/real/necessary conversations -- and generally converse about anything/everything because they barely do that on screen. I love the drama of their scenes, but my happy place is skipping a year ahead and building headcanons about what they could look like in actual relationship with each other... and one of these daydreams is Rio pushing Beth on her politics. I’m in an interracial relationship with a white woman myself -- and one of the things I love is endlessly discussing political issues and processing and growing together, and I like transplanting that to Brio in my fic perhaps too much, and it makes them OOC in my writing at times.

Okay!!! This got long again. Thanks for tangling with this if you’ve gotten this far. There were a lot of assertions up there and I’m happy to unpack something further (but, thats at your own risk y’know. Clearly I don’t know when to stop when it comes to writing these ridiculously long posts).

#beth x rio #my bbs #rants #ask memes

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cinemavariety · 4 years

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Cinema Variety’s Top Favorite Films of 2019

To quote Principal Duvall from the 2004 teen comedy classic Mean Girls: “I just wanted to say that you’re all winners, and that I couldn’t be happier the year is ending” 2019 was both a super difficult year personally, but even more so, I feel as if it was one of the weakest years for cinema in recent memory. Thankfully the last few months of the year have made up for it with a surplus of absolutely incredible cinematic experiences, many of which are reflected in this year’s rankings. I present to you my favorite films of 2019. Check out my rankings from previous years by checking out the links below:

Top Picks of 2018 List Top Picks of 2017 List Top Picks of 2016 List Top Picks of 2015 List Top Picks of 2014 List Top Picks of 2013 List

Honorable Mentions: Midsommar Uncut Gems Parasite 3 From Hell The Death and Life of John F. Donavan **THIS LIST IS IN ORDER AND CONTAINS SOME MILD SPOILERS**

#16 - Ready or Not Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

Ready or Not looked entertaining enough from the trailers, but it certainly wasn’t anything I was dying to go see. Especially in a movie theatre. However my brother convinced me to go with him and it ended up being one of the most consistently fun and entertaining theatrical experiences of 2019.

There were a lot of similar plot elements to the brilliant 2013 horror film - You’re Next (which by the way is one of my favorites). The plot is about a young girl, who grew up an orphan, marrying into an insanely wealthy family. The family has a tradition of playing a game on the wedding night, and she ends up choosing a game of hide and seek. Unbeknownst to the bride, the family is actually planning to hunt her down and murder her in order to perform some type of satanic ritual.

Horror comedies only work for me about half the time, but his film has enough graphic violence and intense situations to counterbalance all of the humor throughout. They complemented each other well and the result was a super funny and super bloody cat and mouse hunt of social classes.

#15 - Doctor Sleep Directed by Mike Flanagan

Helming the sequel to The Shining is no easy undertaking whatsoever. Kubrick’s arthouse horror masterpiece will forever remain not only one of my favorite of his films, but also as one of my favorite genre pieces in general. I was immediately relieved when I discovered that Mike Flanagan signed on to direct the adaptation of Stephen King’s sequel - Doctor Sleep.

I already knew beforehand that Doctor Sleep was more of a fantasy story than a direct horror, and also wasn’t one of the most popular of King’s works. The film ended up being a pretty epic fantasy thriller. Flanagan excels in creating his own universe while also honoring the source material, as well as paying homage to Kubrick’s film. However, it shines more when it does its own thing instead of trying to be nostalgia porn.

Most of the film worked for me, some of it didn’t. The recasting of Jack Torrance’s character left a slightly sour taste in my mouth. Ewan McGregor does a great job as the recovering Danny but it is really Rebecca Ferguson who steals the show with her villain character Rose the Hat.

Doctor Sleep proves that Flanagan has become one of the most consistent horror directors working in the industry. There’s always a pulse to be discovered in the foundations of his storytelling.

#14 - High Life Directed by Claire Denis

Claire Denis, one of the most polarizing French auteurs, debuted her first English language film in 2019 with High Life. I had the pleasure of seeing the film on a big screen, and even though I felt a little underwhelmed as an initial reaction to the finale, the film seemed to linger in my subconscious like a haunting unresolved dream. It held up even better on a re-watch, which you can view for free if you have Amazon Prime.

It’s definitely unlike any space film that I have ever seen. The premise surrounds a group of prisoners on death row who are sent to the farthest depths of space on a doomed voyage. All of the occupants are corralled by Juliette Binoche’s character, who plays some type of mad space scientist, is obsessed with collecting their semen in order to create new life in the abyss of the cosmos.

High Life is a slow burn, often minimalist film, which relies more heavily on atmosphere/score/visuals than it does on dialogue or forced plot elements. It’s bewilderingly nihilistic in how it depicts human behavior gone horribly awry. Robert Pattinson gives an understated performance and seems to provide the only glimmer of what seems to be hope by the end of the film.

#13 - Too Old to Die Young Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn

Too Old To Die Young finds the celebrated auteur, Nicolas Winding Refn, sharing his view of humanity and society at its most despicable. Hate seems to seep out of the cracks of every neon-soaked frame in the limited series. Amazon gave Refn free reigns in creating his phantasmagoria.

All of his usual motifs and creative decisions are employed in full force with Too Old To Die Young, sometimes to an almost unbearable degree unless you are a truth Refn aficionado. His long takes, infinitesimal silences between lines, neon lighting, synth score and characters belonging to a criminal underworld are all utilized to great affect within the series.

I won’t lie, I found it to be some of Refn’s most challenging work to date. There are so many aspects to be found within this series that went over my head, it is art that demands a re-watch. And while I believe that Refn’s sensibilities are best conveyed through a film medium, the limited series allows Refn to explore what he wants to convey like an artist adding layer upon layer of colors onto a blank palette.

#12 - Age Out Directed by A.J. Edwards

A.J. Edwards returned in 2019 with his sophomore directorial effort - Age Out (originally titled Friday’s Child). Edwards has served as one of many creatives who worked on the editing team of Terrence Malick’s films in the last decade. Malick’s influence on the director is quite noticeable. Edwards directed his first film in 2014, The Better Angels, which was a decent debut. Whereas The Better Angels oftentimes felt too close of a mimicry of Malick’s style, Age Out utilizes certain aspects of the style while also allowing Edwards to have his own authorial voice.

The film centers around a young man named Richie as he is about to “age out” of the foster care facility in which he was raised - a frightening reality for countless youth in America and around the world. Richie is left to navigate the difficulties of the adult world at a mere eighteen years old, without any family or parental figures to help him along the way. He makes friends with a seedy townie who revels in delinquency and causing ruckus. Also, there is a romantic subplot between Richie and a girl named Joan, portrayed tenderly by Imogen Poots. This relationship seems to be the only saving grace in Richie’s life. However, a turn of events soon reveal that Richie’s traumatic past has gotten the better of him and threatens to doom his entire future.

Edwards shoots the film in a boxed style with a 1.33 : 1 aspect ratio. This aids with the sense of claustrophobia and paranoia that invades Richie’s life. As aforementioned, many of Malick’s motifs are used here: a floating steadicam guiding the audience along, hushed dialogue, montages with classical music, and even some voice overs. However, this aesthetic isn’t heavy handed in any way. In fact, it’s a joy to see directors whose work can almost go into the Malick canon as the auteur has had such an influence on a lot of young, upcoming directors. Age Out is both a coming of age story and a cry of warning for unhealed trauma.

#11 - An Elephant Sitting Still Directed by Hu Bo

An Elephant Sitting Still now holds the spot as the longest running film that I have ever seen. It sits in at just under four hours, and it completely delivers without ever feeling like it drags on unnecessarily. The film technically premiered in 2018 and is considered a 2018 film among critic circles. However, the epic didn’t get a widespread distribution in the U.S. until this year, so I am overlooking this discrepancy. The film was marked with somewhat of a controversy after the director Hu Bo took his own life right after post production was completed. Hu Bo is an author turned director and An Elephant Sitting Still marks his first foray into cinema. It’s one of the best directorial debuts I have ever seen.

The film centers around four different characters during the span of a single day. All of these characters are marked with some sort of tragedy, and many of their stories intertwine in a synchronistic fashion. It reminded me of other masterpieces such an Inarittu’s Amores Perros or Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia. The film takes place in the industrial regions of Northern China, and the barren landscapes reflect an inner emptiness that emanates from all the characters.

There is a hollowness to these people as they navigate through life. An Elephant Sitting Still is nothing short of nihilistic. It’s an angry, desperate and hauntingly beautiful cry of pain from a director who was most certainly haunted by his own inner demons. It manages to be both an odyssey of human cruelty and a swan song from a young man who didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.

#10 - Joker Directed by Todd Phillips

“It’s getting crazier out there, isn’t it?” These are some of the first lines to be uttered in Todd Philip’s pitch-black satire on society. These lines are what best exemplify the themes that Philip’s was pushing: our society is profoundly sick, everything seems to be getting worse, we have no saviors in sight and hope isn’t always on the horizon. Just from these first utterances, it is clear that Philips is taking all of the political and socioeconomic turmoil of the last four years and has created a problem child that is Joker.

Joaquin Phoenix turns in one of his most disturbed and flawless performances yet - which is no surprise. However, I have yet to see him embody a character so genuinely as he did in The Master. But this isn’t Paul Thomas Anderson, this is Todd Phillips. And the fact that the comedy director even created this piece of art is something that still has me scratching my head. Subtlety is never at play in the film, and there are quite a few plot points that are a little too on-the-nose, even for me. However, all of the other elements redeem it and make this one of the best films of the year. The cinematography is pleasing for the eyes, and the menacing cello scores echoes an existential loneliness that I felt permeate my very being.

The last thirty minutes are exactly what I was hoping from this film. It’s a breath of fresh air to see Hollywood actually stick to creating a nihilistic film that doesn’t once try to water itself down.

#9 - Luce Directed by Julius Onah

Director Julius Onah decided to really step up his game with his latest film Luce. After the dumpster fire that was The Cloverfield Paradox (seriously, thanks for completely ruining what was becoming a dope anthology franchise), Onah has proven that he can be a master of his craft with the proper source material. In regards to the story being told, every element of the film works to its advantage: editing, performances, direction, and most importantly - the screenplay. It’s one of most well written screenplays I have come across in 2019. I immediately could tell from the dialogue that this movie must have been adapted from a stage play, and sure enough upon searching, I found out it was. Not all stage adaptations work, in fact I’d say more than half don’t end up being too effective, but this one stuck its landing and then more.

The story revolves around an overly concerned teacher who contacts Luce’s parents after he writes a paper that comes off as threatening. The paper in question seemed to hold a sentiment in which violence was called for in order to overcome colonialism. It’s important to note that Luce was a child soldier in his native country before being adopted by his parents - played by Naomi Watts and Tim Roth who both gave stunning performances. The rest of the story is an investigation into who their son actually is, which eventually results in moral debates regarding race and identity.

Luce is also a film that effectively helps the audience empathize with the main character, while at the same time questioning whether his intentions are genuine, or a coy to hide something much darker. The truth isn’t always black and white, and this was my biggest takeaway from the movie.

#8 - Monos Directed by Alejandro Landes

Monos felt like a hybrid of elements inspired from great works such as Lord of the Flies, Aguirre: The Wrath of God and Apocalypse Now. This is only the third film to be directed by Alejandro Landes, however it looks and feels as if it was created by a seasoned veteran of the industry.

A group of children guerilla soldiers hold base on a mountaintop where they keep a hostage, watch over a prized cow, and act as a defensive force against an unbeknownst group of enemies. There is little to no exposition in the film. Landes drops the audience off right in the middle of the chaos.

We aren’t exactly sure what these children are risking their lives to fight for, or why they are doing it, but it goes to show the conditions in which they were raised for them to find normalcy in the violent lifestyle of a guerilla soldier. The landscapes are absolutely gorgeous, and there are even a few scenes where I questioned how they accomplished such shots/stunts with a low budget.

#7 - The Beach Bum Directed by Harmony Korine

The Beach Bum might not be the best film that Harmony Korine has directed (it’s certainly no Spring Breakers), but it is easily the most fun. It’s been almost seven long years since Korine’s last project, and I had been waiting in eager anticipation to see what he would do next. He was originally going to do a gangster crime drama called The Trap, which is what I was really hoping from Korine, but that fell through and he ended up making one of the best stoner comedies I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

The Beach Bum is probably Korine’s most accessible and audience-friendly film he’s ever done. I say that lightly though, because it still remains just as highly divisive as his other work. The plot is loose. It follows the misadventures and antics of Moondog, a washed up poet and complete burnout. He is soon sent to rehab for all of his illegal activities, in which he breaks out with the help of Zac Efron’s character, who might have just been my favorite character of the film. Korine seems to have a consistently solid knack to create dirty, seedy and absolutely enthralling characters.

I am really happy that he decided to keep a very similar visual aesthetic to his previous masterpiece, Spring Breakers. Benoit Debie, who is the king of neon lighting and discombobulating camerawork, does a masterful job at creating the textured and visual world of The Beach Bum. Hell, it’s probably one of the main reasons why I decided to see it twice on the big screen.

I’m not the biggest fan of comedies, mostly because I have a very bizarre sense of humor and find most of them to be completely hollow. But Korine’s darkly nihilistic sense of humor suits my sensibilities perfectly and I found myself laughing out loud at various points throughout The Beach Bum. It’s a fun, and even slightly endearing film at certain points thanks to the presence of Isla Fisher’s character as the wife. I look forward to whatever Korine decides to do next. At this point, who knows where he will decide to go with his career. I just hope I don’t have to wait another five plus years to see more of his work.

#6 - A Hidden Life Directed by Terrence Malick

Malick isn’t “back” - he never left. A Hidden Life isn’t a “return to form”. His form has always been there, it’s been evolving since The Tree of Life. In fact, the structure and flow of this film is extremely reminiscent of his past three films.

How far are you willing to walk the path of righteousness, even when the path is marred with pain and unanswered sufferings? How long are you able to cling to your faith when it feels like all hope is lost? How do you fight for what is good, when everyone around you is telling you to submit to forces of absolute evil? These are some of just many questions explored in Terrence Malick’s newest tour de force. As with many of Malick’s recent work, these aren’t questions that are necessarily outright answered during the film. They are instead questions of morality meant to be repeated throughout the story, almost like a mantra or an ode to pure faith.

A Hidden Life is Malick’s first return to chronological and narrative-driven filmmaking since The New World. It has garnered praise almost universally among critics, and is regarded as his best film in ten years since The Tree of Life. While I am in the few who don’t exactly agree that this is Malick’s best film in a decade, I might even dare say that it is among my least favorites of Malick’s recent output, I am still not denying the sublime mastery instilled in every single shot of this film.

A Hidden Life tells the noble true story of Franz Jagerstatter, an Austrian conscientious objector, who refuses to fight for the Nazis in World War II due to his religious beliefs and is eventually executed for it. He is decades later deemed a martyr by the Church - all the more telling as to why Malick decided to tackle this story. The heart of this story is told through letters that Franz and his wife Fani exchange throughout his period spent as a political prisoner. Fani seems to be one of the only people in Franz’s life who sticks by his side. No matter how soul crushing Franz’s decision is for Fani, she understands him well enough to know that death is a better option than spoiling your soul and humanity. “Better to suffer injustices than to do it,” as one character painfully states in the film. And while I wasn’t as emotionally wrecked as I thought I would be by this film, I instead feel inspired by Franz’s commitment to his innate goodness. The back and forth perspectives of Franz and Fani are well executed - we as an audience get reprieves from the dreary confines of a prison cell to the majestic grandeur of the Austrian mountainside. The mountains and surrounding nature are characters within themselves. Near the finale, as Franz is face to face with his mortality, his mind wanders back to riding his motorcycle through the village on a sunny day as the mountains loom in the background. These are the final desires of a doomed man, something as simple as having the freedom to go outside and feel the grass beneath his feet - to experience the wonders of nature that most people don’t think twice about.

As mentioned earlier, it is far from my favorite of Malick’s oeuvre, and is not without its slight misgivings. It was stated that this was Malick’s return to “narratively focused” filmmaking. But he still utilized his signature elliptical style, and for me these moods oftentimes clashed and kept me at a distance emotionally. I rarely say this with a Malick film, but more of a reliance on dialogue would have worked wonders for me. There are quite a few sequences in which Malick opted for montage instead of a more fleshed out scene, which I believe would have further added to the power of the story.

These are all slight issues, and I myself might be a harsher critic than most simply because I hold Malick to such a high standard. Once you can give yourself to the film, A Hidden Life becomes a true zen experience. It managed to instill a sense of serene presence within myself. I felt very grateful for the most basic and common details of my life and this world. Malick’s work can be such a sensorial rush, and making even mundane objects and rooms look absolutely gorgeous, that it’s as if “everything is shining” in my own life after seeing the film. I look forward to returning to The Church of Malick very soon.

#5 - Ad Astra Directed by James Gray

Ad Astra got a lot of unwarranted hate this year in my opinion. It truly is a shame because I believe that James Gray has struck gold once again. While I don’t adore it to the same degree as I did Gray’s previous feature, The Lost City of Z, Ad Astra succeeds in being one of the most understated space films made in the 21st century.

It’s not exactly a wholly original story, or a plot that is something that we haven’t seen before. It’s the way Gray goes about telling this story and exploring these themes that makes it so very special. It’s not forcing any overreaching philosophical or ethical message onto the viewer, it’s not overly complicated or overly long, and rather than trying to present completely senseless physical explanations to the audience, it just accepts the fiction aspect as “science fiction”.

Hoyte Van Hoytema is a brilliant Director of Photography and he crafts some of the most breathtaking space shots in recent memory. He really captures the breathtaking enormity of the cosmis abyss. The scenes that take place near Nepture during the finale are jaw dropping. We see two characters wrestling each other while suspended midair and the camera pulls out to reveal their absolutely terrifying ordeal while splashes of Neptune’s purple color emanates behind them. What I enjoyed most about the film is this sort of serene, zen atmosphere that Gray creates through the visuals, the score and Brad Pitt’s heartfelt but quietly somber voiceover.

Pitt portrays a lonely, broken and existentially conflicted astronaut. He finds the quiet infinitude of space to be a reprieve from the chaos of conflict happening down on Earth. He feels more at home among the stars than he does on the planet in which he was born. His perspective reminds me of the blue God from Watchmen, Doctor Manhattan, when he’s dwelling peacefully on Mars and laments his feelings toward Earth and all the people on it: “I am tired of Earth. These People. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”

James Gray’s Ad Astra, much like his previous two films before this, detail the pains and tribulations of undaunted pioneers as they explore foreign territories. The final monologue of Pitt’s washed over me like a gentle breeze: “I will rely on those closest to me, and I will share their burders, as they share mine. I will live and love.”

#4 - Anima Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Interprative dance, experimental film, and visual albums are three of my absolutely favorite art forms. The real MVP of modern cinema, Paul Thomas Anderson, has collaborated with one of the real MVP’s of modern music, Thom Yorke, to create a fifteen minute long music video on the power of human connection.

Thom Yorke plays a sleepy commuter, a passive bystander, a human sheep, a functioning cog in some great machinery. He makes brief eye contact with a pretty woman on the train, and notices that she leaves behind a briefcase. The rest of the short details his efforts as he dodges through obstacle after obstacle trying to find the woman and return the briefcase to her. I couldn’t believe my eyes as Anderson concocts the innermost desires of being seen, understood, and loved. The results are strokes of flashing light projections on concrete walls, bodies undulating as they separate and conjoin simultaneously, giddy humans running through fog, and lovers meeting in the union of hearts.

The final section, Dawn Chorus, is one of the most gentle and blissful experiences I have ever witnessed, let alone one in a film distributed by Netflix. Paul Thomas Anderson and Thom Yorke’s project had me understanding why I fell in love with this medium in the first place.

#3 - 1917 Directed by Sam Mendes

1917 takes the spot as my favorite war film of the decade. Personally, I found it to be one of the best war films ever made in general. What director Sam Mendes and DOP Roger Deakins have created is nothing short of a miracle. It’s the first “single take” war film to ever be made, mainly because this is a feat that is far from easy to pull off. Mendes and Deakins shot the movie in extreme long takes, and spliced them all together to make the whole movie come off as a seamless single take. These tracking shots never leave the side of the characters, we are in their footsteps on the journey the entire time.

1917 has a pretty simple premise: two young British soldiers are given a near impossible mission to cross enemy territory and deliver a message that will stop a deadly attack on over 1,500 soldiers - one of them being the brother of one of the two soldiers sent on the mission. The familial aspect contributes added emotional gravitas to the plot overall.

1917 is more of an experiential war film than it is a action or battle focused war film. It’s best to be seen in an IMAX because the sound design and the invasive tracking shots make you feel as if you are walking along these two soldiers as they face grave perils on their quest to deliver the message. I very much so enjoyed that they kept the plot small and intimate, without resorting to constant firepower to keep the audience engaged. That isn’t too say that the movie doesn’t have more than enough of its fair share of nail biting action sequences, and also plenty of gruesome shots depicting the carnage that World War I brought. These soldiers have to army crawl over rotting corpses, while rats and crows are seen pecking and chewing through the remains. The filmmaker doesn’t turn a blind eye to the horrors that war produced. To me, this is one of many reasons why I believe 1917 is superior to other popular recent war films such as Dunkirk. I don’t want my war films to be sanitized. War needs to be portrayed as it truly is - acts of complete inhumanity.

Dare I say that 1917 is Come and See for the 21st century. While Come and See is most definitely the superior film, there were echoes of the classic Soviet Union masterpiece that ring throughout 1917. Maybe it’s the expertly crafted tracking shots, maybe it’s the maddening use of sound design/editing, or maybe it’s the shell shocked expression that is engraved on one of the main characters faces near the finale.

1917 does an amazing job of being very loud, but also utilizing silence in certain scenes to great affect. The juxtaposition is most expertly crafted during one scene that involved flares popping off in the sky, lighting up the ruins of a city, as one the characters runs away from enemy fire. It’s an absolutely exhilarating scene. I ended up bawling by the end of the movie, mostly just because of all the pent up anxiety and distress I felt throughout. You don’t see many films that take place during World War I anymore. But 1917 shows it is not a time period to be forgotten about.

#2 - The Lighthouse Directed by Robert Eggers

I had been eagerly anticipating Robert Eggers’s follow-up film after he released The VVitch back in 2016. At first it was reported that he was going to be doing an adaptation of Nosferatu, which I still think would be a great story for Egger’s to adapt, especially after witnessing what he instead decided to make - The Lighthouse.

Shot gorgeously in black & white on gritty 16mm celluloid, the film looks like it comes from a completely different era (the dialogue as well). There were many shots that had a similar look to some of Bergman’s early work on the Faroe islands.

The Lighthouse has a fairly simple plot. Robert Pattinson plays Winslow who goes to work for a seasoned lighthouse keeper named Thomas who is played by Willem Dafoe. Winslow is new to being a wickie and Thomas takes him under his wing to show him the ropes. Thomas orders him about incessantly in a brute and abusive manner.

There is a minimalism to the plot, however all of the other elements are done so perfectly that the daily grueling routines of these wickies becomes nothing short of hypnotizing. The sound design and score ratchets up the harsh conditions of the island. Wind sounds like its constantly shrieking outside - a reminder of the unease that seems to be building to an overflow. The dialogue, diction, and accents are all completely authentic to the time period and setting that the story is taking place in. Eggers commitment is second to none when it come to detail and authenticity with aspects such as the character’s accents and inflections. A real case of cabin fever befalls the two men who both seem to become obsessed with the mystical light that emanates at the top of the light house.

While I really enjoyed The VVItch, I absolutely adored The Lighthouse and find it to be a much stronger work from Eggers. I think what I vibed with most about it is that the movie doesn’t feel the need to be confined to one particular genre. Whereas The VVitch was literally about a witch bringing misery to a Puritan family, it was constricted to be somewhat of a horror film. However, The Lighthouse manages to be many different tones: a fever dream surrealist film, an arthouse horror, a slapstick comedy, and a nautical retelling of many ancient sea myths. And all of these different tones worked together and bounced off each other in perfect harmony.

I found myself both laughing and completely repulsed by the images I was seeing - especially within the last act of the film which succeeded in shaking me up and making me feel both bewildered and slightly nauseated. It ends up being a gritty, dirty, and uncompromising journey into total psychosis. By the conclusion of the film, the audience comes to the same realization as the two characters - there really was enchantment in the light after all.

#1 - Waves Directed by Trey Edward Shults

Waves is an operatic cry for people to be better to one another. It is by far my favorite film of the year, and I truly believe it to be one of the finest films ever made. It earned itself a well deserved spot in my Top 25 Favorite Films of the Decade.

Trey Edward Shults started out his cinematic career on a strong note with Krisha. He delivered once again with his sophomore debut - It Comes at Night (even if I do find it to be easily the weakest of out the three he has directed). But for me, Waves is where Shults really experiments with his style to such a fine tuned degree that we find the director not calming down his vision or becoming more “grounded”, instead he expands upon his prowess with one of the most powerful family dramas I’ve ever seen.

Shults is another director who made my list this year who is somewhat of a protege of Terrence Malick. Shults worked as an intern for Malick on both The Tree of Life and Voyage of Time. It is quite clear the influence that Malick has on Shult’s vision. But Shults, even more-so than Edwards who also made my list this year, has taken Malick’s inspiration and created something wholly his own.

Shults has created an experiential rollercoaster of actions, consequences and the toxic fallout than can come from such actions. Waves is essentially two films in one. The first half is the energetic, chaotic and traumatic first half in its depiction of toxic masculinity taken too far, to the eventual accident that changes all of the characters lives. The camera is constantly floating in this portion, or shall I even say flying through the air and around the characters. The camera has no limits in what it can do and that along with the editing, and most noticeably the insanely perfect soundtrack/score, this portion ends up feeling like one prolonged anxiety attack.

The second half of the film switches character POVs masterfully. There’s a psychedelic shift of perspective from the brother’s eyes covered in flashing lights from the back of a police car to his little sister’s eyes in the back of their parent’s car (you have to have seen the film to completely understand what I am referring to of course). This second half of the film is where the camera slows down a little. This portion is more character focused and less interested in being flashy through its aesthetic. We get more dialogue, more character details, and a lot more tears in this half. It’s like a long cathartic release after experiencing an hour of trauma and abuse. It succeeds in tearing you apart, to only slowly piece you back together.

As mentioned previously, Shults’s soundtrack decisions were the cherry on top for me. Tame Impala, Animal Collective & Tyler the Creator are three of my favorite artists and their music is utilized perfectly within the story. What made this film so special to me, other than the fact it all takes place in the state in which I grew up in, was that no other film has better reminded me of my own humanity in years. This film makes me want to be a better brother, a better friend, a better son, and a better person in general. You never know when a single moment can shatter your entire world. In the end, it left me with a strong message that struck me to my core: appreciate what you have in life, and tread carefully.

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mediaeval-muse · 4 years

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Book Review

The Night Circus. By Erin Morgenstern. New York: Doubleday, 2011.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: fantasy

Part of a Series? No

Summary: The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night. But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway—a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battle of imagination and will. Despite themselves, however, Celia and Marco tumble headfirst into love—a deep, magical love that makes the lights flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands. True love or not, the game must play out, and the fates of everyone involved, from the cast of extraordinary circus performers to the patrons, hang in the balance, suspended as precariously as the daring acrobats overhead.

***Full review under the cut.***

Overview: If a book is fairly popular, it’s more likely than not that I’ll end up reading it years after the hype dies down, and this is precisely what happened with The Night Circus. I’ve had a copy on my shelves for years, but I decided to finally pick it up after making my way through a string of non-fiction books. I really enjoyed the atmosphere Morgenstern creates, especially the dreamlike quality that her prose evokes. But while most of the fairy tale elements worked for me, I do wish she had dome more by way of characterization for the two main protagonists and plot. Even so, this book was memorable, and so it earns a 4 star rating from me.

Writing: Morgenstern’s prose has a dreamlike quality to it. The entire novel is written in the present tense, which I usually dislike, but in this case, it felt appropriate; present tense, for me, tends to keep the story at arm’s length, but for something like The Night Circus, that uncanny distance actually enhances the feeling that the circus is not quite real or that it has secrets that we, the readers, are not privy to. In other words, the present tense lends an air of mystery that worked in this story *because* so much of the circus revolved around dazzling, mystifying and tricking patrons into thinking magic isn’t real.

That being said, I do think the periodic interruptions in which Morgenstern describes the experience of the reader going to the circus felt jarring. Every so often, Morgenstern has a section narrated in second person, with phrases like “you make your way to the tent” attempting to immerse the reader in the atmosphere. While these sections were wonderfully written and evoked the senses in pleasing ways, I ultimately felt that they distracted rather than complimented the story.

However, I really did adore Mogenstern’s creativity and imagination. I loved the attractions she envisioned for the circus, as well as its black and white color scheme. Instead of feeling gothic or threatening, the circus felt rather elegant and inviting while still maintaining and air of mystery. In this way, I think Morgenstern struck a nice balance between alluring and unsettling, one that doesn’t drive people away but ignites their curiosity.

Plot: From the summary of the book, it seems as though the majority of the plot will revolve around a “fierce competition” between star-crossed lovers, and while that narrative was present, it often faded into the background for me. The “competition” never seemed to pose a threat or create suspense - there was not really a strong back-and-forth pattern of one-upmanship that challenged the characters to push themselves and their abilities. Instead, the details of the challenge are rather foggy, so even the competitors don’t know the rules or the consequences, and they don’t seem to feel constrained or imprisoned by the competition in any way. I think this could have worked better for me if the whole challenge started competitive but then became forgotten in favor of the two romantic leads outdoing themselves for the sake of making one another happy, and while there was some of that, it didn’t feel like it was much of a guiding thread throughout the book.

I did think that the plot about Bailey and the red headed twins was better constructed, even if some readers found it uninteresting. Even though it was simple (Bailey wanted to get back to the circus and find the girl he had met years ago), Bailey clearly had goals and conflicts that influenced his decisions, from feeling constrained by his family’s expectations to the uncertainty of his future, and I think his arc complemented the main plot nicely - Bailey felt trapped by everyday life, and the circus served as an escape, whereas the circus is a kind of gilded cage for Celia and Marco.

That being said, I do think Morgenstern’s attempt to make the “moral” of her book about the power of stories and storytelling rather ham-fisted. Morgenstern clearly has a love of storytelling herself, and the whole book is an exercise in the power of storytelling, but I don’t think stories had a strong enough presence in the narrative itself to make the whole point of The Night Circus about those topics. Instead, I think the secondary theme of “the future is unwritten” to be much more compelling, and I think the conclusion of the novel should have ended on that note rather than Widget agreeing to tell a story.

Characters: While this book follows a number of characters, the summary primarily focuses on Celia and Marco, two “magicians” of sorts who are thrust into a competition by their mentors in order to prove whose method of doing magic is superior. Celia is more intuitive, performing magic through her “natural abilities,” while Marco is more studious, using things like signs and anchors to guide his magic. Aside from these defining qualities, I didn’t find either of them very memorable. Celia supposedly had the tendency to lose control of her emotions (and magic), but we never really saw that manifest in ways that were threatening to the competition or the people around her. Marco is also somewhat of a blank slate; he’s organized and works hard, but that’s about all I can say about him. I didn’t quite see what qualities attracted the two to each other, much less why they fell in love other than they admired one another’s magic.

Their mentors were a bit more interesting in that the had contrasting personalities. Celia’s mentor (her father), is overbearing and egotistic, whereas Marco’s mentor is reserved. I liked the mystery that surrounded Marco’s mentor and the way his emotions never seemed to get the better of him until certain points. Celia’s father, on the other hand, was a bit annoying and cruel.

I did enjoy reading about the other protagonists, Bailey and the red headed twins (Poppet and Widget). I thought that Bailey had enough external pressure to make his goals and desires feel real. Poppet and Widget also complimented each other nicely; though they are twins, they felt like separate people rather than a duplication of one another, and I liked how they were inquisitive, playful, and caring.

Supporting characters were also incredibly compelling and memorable. Chandresh, the proprietor of the circus, is eccentric, and I loved reading about his house of curiosities and his lavish midnight dinners. Tsukiko, the contortionist, has an appealing attitude that is simultaneously warm and matter-of-fact. Isobel seems like she would serve the role of the jealous lover, but I liked that she was warm and found a home with the circus. Herr Thiessen, the clock maker, encourages others to see the circus with wonder without becoming dangerously obsessed. Other members of the “circus board,” such as Mme. Padva, the Burgess sisters, and Mr. Barris, were also interesting to watch as they left their thumbprints on the circus.

Other: This book didn’t have a lot of worldbuilding (if that’s the appropriate word for it) in that none of the magic systems are fully explained, nor are we told who or what the mentors really are, but I don’t think these things were needed. The lack of full clarity enhanced the sense of mystery about the circus, and in some ways, this book was more “magical realism” than full fantasy.

I do think, however, that the ending to Celia and Marco’s story was rather unfulfilling, in part because it relied on the performance of a kind of magic that I didn’t quite understand. I think it would have been fine if the two had simply disappeared together and their “souls” (or something) still hung around the circus, so readers get the impression that they’re together, but the details aren’t quite clear. The matter of controlling the circus also seemed convoluted, and I’m not convinced that the magic required to do this was seeded into the story ahead of time, so it felt somewhat random. As a result, the ending seems to require us to understand how separate types of magic work, but the details of these systems throughout the book are vague, so the sudden specificity at the end feels strange.

Overall, though, this book was memorable and enchanting, which made up for the shortfalls. I still enjoyed it immensely, and I think Morgenstern is a phenomenal storyteller.

#book reviews

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illegiblewords · 4 years

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hm-- i'm going to be the obvious one and suggest lahabrea (or hades, whichever someone hasn't already sent!)

YOU’RE IN LUCK, NEITHER HAS BEEN SENT!

LAHABREA

First impression: Wow what a boring villain, very 2-D with shitty dialogue and bland motives wearing the all black spooky-like. And we are supposed to be very impressed and intimidated just like Hydaelyn. When is Heavensward?

Impression now: My friends I have 180′d and now love this poor sad loser to pieces. Emet-Selch revealing that no, Lahabrea really has been being a lameass this entire time and why the hell did we take him seriously when he had such horrendous decision-making throughout was the beginning. Seriously, I basically yelled laughing when the “crowning moment of idiocy” line happened. Because until that point the models for Ascian behavior were Mr. I-laugh-at-explosions-and-yell-about-Zodiark Lahabrea, Sir I-don’t-talk-much-but-when-I-do-it’s-about-Zodiark-and-balance Elidibus, a certain I-hate-all-these-people-because-Zodiark-likes-them-better-WAITAHOTCHICK Nabriales, Ms. I-fucked-up-and-will-never-live-it-down-so-no-longer-show-my-emotions Igeyorhm, and a couple of oneliners. None of whom have seemed overly self-aware. The second that line came out of Hades’ mouth, it became clear that YES we can judge them all and NO this is not some kind of standard Ascian behavior we should just accept. None of them have to act that way. They’re just weirdos.

Then Shadowbringers happened and there was a period of “wait how did Amaurot’s top orator turn into the Lahabrea we know” and learning that Lahabrea was weak because he kept body hopping despite knowing it was damaging him.

Aaaaand at Gamescom, bless Oda and Yoshida, they gave the single smoothest fix and I am eternally grateful. Workaholic Lahabrea is a gift. He probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying most of the time and is just trying to give the impression he knows what he’s about before dropping a monster and running off.

But then combining all the info and playing detective with past scenes he’s actually really sad. Still lame and stupid funny at times but also sad as hell when dots get connected. At this point I figure he’s motivated by guilt complexes, denial-flavored-tempering, and fear of both falling asleep because nightmares and how much blood will rest directly on him if he fails. Because I think I remember seeing that Zodiark was his idea. And literally everyone except for him, Hades, and Elidibus died in connection with that.

I think he’s a Stepford smiler in the sense that internally he is deeply, deeply fucked but he distracts himself in how ridiculous a lot of the FFXIV situations are and laughing at the resulting blow-ups. Space-dragon-ghost-explodes-out-of-the-moon-to-wreak-havoc is a hell of a thing for the history books. I also think he probably knows or assumes people don’t like him and that he deserves it. I also think that while the other two Unsundered get frustrated with him, he’s probably also been hiding the level of fucked up he still is from them in a lot of ways and they assume to varying degrees that he’s being irrational, hot-headed, arrogant, and stubborn with it. I think in actuality he’s somewhat aware but is semi-deliberately hurting himself and alternately doesn’t think he has a right to stop or is horrified by how much less capable he is after spending thousands of years essentially hurting himself through body hopping and overwork. Reprimanding him probably doesn’t work because he already has a lot of reason to detest himself. I also think he probably tries really hard not to think about himself on a personal level because once he falls into that pit he’s not getting out easily, so there’s a solid amount of repression going on too.

I could go on. He is a sad clown to me who tries to cover up how tired he is by vomiting five syllable words.

Favorite moment

See, there’s funniest moment and there’s most interesting moment. His intro at the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak makes me giggle a lot now. Most interesting to me is possibly his exchange with Elidibus after Nabriales’ death or when he shows up late to a meeting and discreetly tries to explain why he should be allowed to work again.

Idea for a story

:[ I don’t know if I can do it because I am still very happily committed to my Hades/WoL sequel, but following the story Stalemate I did I could see a situation with that specific WoL checking the Eye post-Shinryu and freeing Lahabrea. Very scenario-specific and all but I have some ideas about that.

Unpopular opinion

Idk if unpopular so much as different?

I’ve seen a lot of Lahabrea variants that I think are really cool and interesting! Some are very serious and dignified. Some are intimidatingly hot-tempered. But for me, part of what I find intriguing are the ways he doesn’t quite add up with the persona he’s trying to portray. I also really like small, cute human elements in characters that let you fall in love with them a little. This goes even for characters I find reprehensible because IMO it’s important to take both the endearing and the appalling together when forming opinions. It’s still fiction and I don’t think it translates to “if you like a character who committed murder then you like murder” or anything. I do think though that if the audience steps back and has to say point blank whether they think the character is a good person, a bad person, or somewhere in-between (regardless of liking them) that kind of thing becomes important.

I can understand why people would write off the iffy early writing to just spin Lahabrea as a highly respectable, unflappable, untouchable dude. I definitely still enjoy stories where he’s written that way. It’s just not so much how I read him haha. I think he tries to be that but there’s a lot of comedy and tragedy going on with him internally that hits hard when embraced. And I think being assumed as immune to any kind of vulnerability or real connection would probably fuck with him a lot too. Before the Ascian we know, he was considered one of the most exemplary citizens of Amaurot. It would be weird imo if he was completely isolated even then, and seeing how he got from Point A to Point B has a ton of pathos potential.

I also like him a lot despite thinking Thancred is absolutely justified in hating his guts, but it doesn’t come up as much with me so I could see there being some ???

Favorite relationship

XD I just did a WoL/Lahabrea shipfic personal challenge so naturally that influences me a bit so far as shipping goes. That said I am a multishipper. I could see him with either of the Unsundered being interesting. I’ve seen some cute stuff with Igeyorhm too but have less strong of an opinion there currently. Non-shipping I think he’s probably closest to Elidibus, has a sort of testy relationship with Hades but they ultimately do care about each other, and possibly has some level of closeness with Igeyorhm too. I also think that Nabriales dislikes Lahabrea more than Lahabrea dislikes him and that can cause some interesting problems.

Probably in-general I’m just very here for dysfunctional Unsundered trio.

Favorite headcanon

The workaholic thing and the self-destructive thing are technically both canon. His being lame specifically because of being tired all the time I think is probably it because the rest just follows for me haha.

As a smaller, more mundane headcanon I think Lahabrea is a super ugly sleeper most of the time. Probably drools.

Will do a post for Hades too and tag it but need to do other stuff for a bit! BUT THANK YOU!

#lahabrea #ascians #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14

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architectnews · 4 years

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The Ranch in Orlando, Florida

The Ranch, Orlando House, Florida Real Estate, American Luxury Architecture Interior, Images

The Ranch in Orlando

Aug 31, 2020

The Ranch in Florida

Architects: VSHD Design

Location: Orlando, Florida, USA

Tuscan Transformation: Dubai-based VSHD Design expands its international portfolio with the completion of their first U.S. residential project – The Ranch

VSHD Design, a Dubai-based interior architecture firm specializing in residential and commercial projects, is proud to unveil a luxurious residential design within the Four Seasons Orlando Resort in Florida. With 22,000 sq. ft. this project marks the first residential undertaking of the firm in the United States.

“From the onset, we realized that we were facing numerous challenges with this project,” notes Rania Hamed, interior architect and founder of VSHD Design. “In addition to strict regional building and environmental codes, there were requirements imposed by Four Seasons Resorts to ensure that the residence blended stylistically with its neighboring properties.”

A modern Tuscan approach In approaching the external Tuscan theme exhibited by homes within the exclusive development, the challenge was to maintain some existing structural elements, while delivering on the client’s vision of a modern home that would be luxurious, yet warm, comfortable, and ideal for entertaining guests. The client envisioned a sort of boutique-style hotel environment that would provide family and friends with privacy and luxurious amenities, even in the absence of its owners. To achieve that challenging balance, Hamed embarked on a mission to modernize the external Tuscan façade, while infusing contemporary luxury into the home’s interior to align with the client’s vision.

While Tuscan architecture in its purest form embraces natural, rustic elements, VSHD Design avoided abundant use of materials such as brick and wrought iron in lieu of a modern interpretation. Gray brick overhangs positioned above the external façade’s windows and passages pay homage to Tuscan influences. Black frames of expansive French windows, certified to hurricane standards, provide contemporary contrasts to the façade’s white walls, culminating in a modern Mediterranean style that adheres to the Four Seasons aesthetic requirements.

To complement the structural design, VSHD Design developed all of the home’s outdoor spaces, beginning with its swimming pool. European limestone tiles, stylistic planters, and luxurious sunbeds from the Italian design house, Gervasoni, provide the exterior spaces with an authentic Mediterranean look and feel.

Seamless transitions While the exterior exudes modern interpretations of mandated styles and standards, VSHD Design approached the interior of the house as somewhat of a blank canvas. Working with a timber structure, as opposed to concrete columns and beams, was a new experience, however, Hamed found inspiration in the challenge.

“I saw beauty in some of the original structural elements and I wanted to maintain as many of them as possible,” she explains. “I decided to leave some of the exposed beams intact, as opposed to hiding them behind a layer of gypsum.”

Exposed wooden beams reflecting the original structure’s integrity were maintained, with layers of dark stain and black metal trim added to provide a more industrial feel. Hamed also focused on ensuring seamless continuity between the home’s interior and exterior spaces. Upon entering the house, Carrara marble flooring carries the influences inward, where Tuscan-style arches define the separation of the home’s interior spaces, reinforced by clean, modern, and slightly protruding architraves. The architraves, composed of black matte stained oak, contrast with the interior’s white walls and light gray marble flooring, providing the home’s public areas with a very contemporary look and feel. In living spaces designed for more intimate experiences, Carrara marble flooring gives way to hardwood floors.

“Marble can have a bit of a cold feel to it, particularly when framed by white ceilings and walls,” explains Hamed. “We created a transition to hardwood floors to provide certain spaces, like the living room and the study, with a much warmer ambiance.”

Boutique-style accommodations The main floor houses the master bedroom, highlighted by a luxurious contemporary décor and direct access to the adjacent pool area and outdoor shower, designed as part of VSHD’s vision of an indoor/outdoor lifestyle. The master bedroom’s spa-inspired adjoining spaces include a freestanding bathtub as the centerpiece of a spacious bathroom that also features an individual toilet and shower cubicles. The bathtub is flanked by a wall of floor-to-ceiling French windows on one side and dual washbasins with custom-designed mirrors on the other. Completing the spa-like theme, a small spiral staircase leads to an upper-level gym area featuring a steam room and waterjet shower.

The spa-like feel and amenities extend to the home’s 6 upper-level guest suites, half of which offer private external access for guest stays while the owners are away. Each self-sufficient guest suite features a unique decorative style and is equipped with a mini kitchen, a small pantry, and a spa-inspired bathroom.

“The client’s brief focused on a concept where each room should have a completely different, yet thoroughly modern theme,” explains Hamed. “We incorporated Chinese, Spanish, and multiple other influences in order to provide each suite with its own distinct character and mood.”

The client’s vision of a boutique-style hotel extends to the home’s main dining room, inspired by Italian architect Ettore Sottsass. A ‘modern-retro’ black and white console from Italy contrasts against a wall panel of gold leaf wallpaper, bordered by marble. The panel’s adjacent walls are characterized by ribbed white paneling with a stained wood base, while a cloud lighting fixture from New York’s Apparatus Studio provides adds a celestial touch to the room.

Pièce de résistance In order to tie the interior spaces together, VSHD Design embarked on an ambitious plan to develop a new patio space at the center of the house to create stimulating visual links between multiple areas of the house. To separate the pool area from the patio, and to connect the master bedroom to the living spaces, the design team built an enclosed lanai with four expansive French windows on each side, which infuse the passage with natural light. The abundantly lit corridor is lined with wicker chairs, creating a fabulous reading room with the feel of an open space courtesy of pool views to the left, and patio views and greenery to the right. At the end of the passageway, a staircase to the left ascends to the second level of the home alongside floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the patio and offer views of the lanai and other external spaces.

“By blending traditional elements with a modern contemporary mix, we succeeded in achieving a contrast that works well,” notes Rania Hamed. “We didn’t want that contrast to be too soft, so the use of black and white, with Carrera marble flooring, provides the home with a strong modern-vintage look.”

The Ranch, Orlando, FL – Building Information

Architects: VSHD Design Location: Orlando, FL, USA Area: 2200 sqm Lead Designer: Rania M Hamed

About VSHD Design Founded in Dubai in 2007 by interior architect, Rania Hamed, VSHD Design is a multiple award-winning interior architecture firm renowned for the style, functionality, quality, and attention to detail of its projects in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Cairo, London, Amman, and Florida. The firm combines extraordinary talent and global experiences to create exceptional spaces that are as “cutting edge” or “timeless” as each client’s vision.

VSHD’s mission is to develop architectural and interior design experiences that are distinctive, compelling, and of superb quality. Infusing modesty and elegance into the transformation and repurposing of spaces, the firm has garnered international recognition for the beauty and subtle luxury of its projects.

Photographer: Koen Van Damme

The Ranch in Orlando images / information received 310820

Location: Orlando, Florida, USA

Orlando Architecture

Orlando International Airport South Terminal Complex, Florida Design: Fentress Architects image from architecture office Orlando International Airport Building

1600 Lakeside Residence, Audubon Park Design: Interstruct, Inc. photograph : Steven Allen 1600 Lakeside Residence in Audubon Park, Orlando

Guidewell Innovation Orlando, Lake Nona Medical City Design: Affiniti Architects & Marc Thee image from architects Guidewell Innovation Orlando Building

Citrus Bowl Stadium, Orlando Design: HOK Sport image : HOK Sport Orlando Venues Building

Florida Architecture

Grove at Grand BayBuildings, Miami Beach Design: BIG architects image from architects firm This sold-out development mark Bjarke Ingels’ first completed condominium design in the USA. The pair of twisting 20-story glass towers is helping to lead the rejuvenation of Coconut Grove’s business district.

Miami Marine Stadium Building Renovation photo : Rick Bravo

Georgia Architecture

Comments / photos for the The Ranch in Orlando page welcome

Website: Orlando

The post The Ranch in Orlando, Florida appeared first on e-architect.

#e-architect

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quinlinkin · 5 years

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take it from me ( i’d be lost without you ) ↳ Q’s twdg writing challenge

character(s): mitch, louis ship(s): louitch ( louis/mitch ) word count: 1749 author’s note: ahhhhh, so i finally fell behind. but hopefully only for these couple of days! either way, this fic is based around a short louitch comic i started making in xnalara a couple of months ago that i never ended up finishing. though i do hope to get it done soon, esp if this ship starts to make some traction?? who knowssss

have a lil preview of that comic anyway!!

[ ao3 link ]

*credits to the wonderful @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale for creating this challenge! you can view the entire prompt list + further details here. happy writing!!

― ☼ ―

day fourteen ; night sky.

“Makes you feel small, huh?”

“Hmm…?”

“Like… the universe. When you really think about it, we’re just so- insignificant. A puny, meaningless speck that doesn’t keep everything else from existing. It wouldn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things if we all disappeared one day.”

Pulling his gaze away from the blanket of stars above them, Mitch quirks an eyebrow at Louis. It’s become somewhat of a routine for them to find themselves right here, seated upon the roof of Mitch’s house as they stargaze and talk endlessly. They’ve occasionally even stayed put long enough for the sun to begin to rise, peeking over the horizon as a startling reminder for Louis that he needs to get home before his parents wake up and realize he isn’t where he’s supposed to be.

A crooked grin starts to tug at his lips, and he can’t help but to lightly tease, “Jesus… Deep, much? Y’know, I think you’d better quit that damn drama class before it’s too late, it’s obviously starting to get to your head.”

Louis rolls his eyes and scoffs, yet the unmistakable signs of his own subtle grin are plainly visible in the moonlight. “I’m just saying. When you put things into perspective, it’s pretty wild to think about.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mitch shrugs, green eyes flicking back up to the inky black sky. Truth be told, he hasn’t spent a lot of time contemplating their existence like Louis apparently has. It didn’t really matter to him.

Except for aliens, of course. Aliens were real, the government are hiding the truth, and he’ll gladly fight anyone who tries to disagree.

“Well… What do you think, then?” Louis asks after a beat of silence.

Again, Mitch gives an offhanded shrug. “I dunno. Not much, I guess.”

He can feel Louis’ eyes on him without having to look. It makes his skin crawl, his cheeks tingle.

“No opinions on life beyond earth? No theories about our existence? Figured you’d be all about the conspiracy theory life.”

“I ain’t Shane Dawson.”

Louis laughs. “No, you’re definitely not.”

Mitch gives a breathy chuckle of his own, his elbows shifting against the shingles. “Yeah, I mean- conspiracies are fun to think about. But I wouldn’t go as far as… whatever all that was that came outta your mouth just now.”

“What, you didn’t like my awesomely philosophical speech?” Louis retorts. Mitch can hear the smirk present in his airy tone. “I should be offended.”

Mitch is forced to redirect his attention back to Louis’ face, where sure enough, that classic Louise-esque smirk is spread across it. His eyes linger for longer than intended. “I think you’re better off leaving all that shit to Aasim.”

With another brief, joined laugh, they both turn their attention back to the sky. It’s not uncommon for them to fall into comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Sometimes, Mitch will light up a cigarette that Louis always decline to share. Other times, they’ll take turns with a bottle of alcohol snagged from his father’s liquor cabinet until their heads are warmly fuzzy and boundaries become just a little bit thinner.

Tonight, however, there’s nothing but the two of them, no distractions or obligations to be anywhere other than right here.

It’s also not uncommon for Mitch’s mind to wander during these bouts of silence. He wishes he only held positive thoughts for this odd, indescribable bond that’s formed between him and Louis.

He’s unable to understand why Louis would ever want to show up whenever Mitch decides to text him late at night, why he ever gives him the time of day or humors him when they have just about nothing in common. While it’s no exaggeration that Mitch could produce quite the lengthy list of reasons why Louis is so great and interesting, he’s yet to find a single reason why the opposite would prove to be true.

Mitch glances at Louis while his focus is directed above them. There’s a gentle smile on his face, his expression blissful and carefree. He looks positively at peace, and Mitch doesn’t get why.

He suddenly feels guilty. He’d called him out of bed at nearly two in the morning, after all, and while Mitch never dares to admit whenever there’s an underlying problem that prompts him to want Louis’ company, he suspects that Louis already knows.

Louis makes him feel better, plain and simple. Perhaps it’s his shining personality or his positive way of thinking, though whatever the true reason, Mitch never fails to feel his mood lifting from as early on as seeing Louis typing back a message despite immediately regretting sending his own in the first place.

“You don’t have to be here, y’know,” he suddenly tells him. Out of context, it’s entirely unprompted, yet in Mitch’s mind, they’re words that have to be spoken.

Louis immediately turns his head to look at him, his brows pulled together with a keen mixture of confusion and compassion. It’s more than enough for Mitch to be quickly looking away, that too-sincere expression tugging at his heart in a way that makes him feel queasy.

“I know,” Louis speaks quietly, steadily. Careful, as if saying the wrong thing will cause Mitch to freeze up and bolt. It wouldn’t be the first time. “But… I want to.”

The outward confession instinctively draws Mitch’s eyes back to his face, just for a second, before he’s forcing them away again. His eyebrows furrow, searching for words well beyond his grasp to say.

Naturally, Louis picks up on his uneasy silence. “Do… you not want me here?”

“What?” Mitch’s head snaps back towards him, eyes slightly rounded before he’s firmly shaking his head. “No, I - of course I do.”

While he hadn’t quite expected Louis’ response, he supposes he should have. With his standoffish, blunt nature, he can only imagine that he must come off as disinterested in Louis’ company from time to time. He curses his unapproachable demeanor, wishes it wasn’t so difficult for him to open up.

Apparently, Louis decides to push things a little further. Mitch doesn’t blame him for wanting answers, though once again, he’s no longer able to look at him as his expression grows more sympathetic. His voice is incredibly timid when he speaks up, and Mitch feels even worse.

“Then… why say that?”

Mitch sighs. “Ah… I dunno, I just- most people wouldn’t want to, I guess. Most people… wouldn’t care.”

He can feel Louis shifting closer, trying to crane his neck in order to meet his eye.

It doesn’t work until he speaks again, barely above a whisper. “Well… I do. I care.”

Mitch simply can’t control the troubled look that crosses over his face, displaying his every conflicted emotion and his perplexed thought for Louis to see despite the fact he doesn’t want him to.

There’s nothing he can do to stop himself from asking, “But… why? ”

Louis instantly falls quiet. For a moment, Mitch regrets asking, assumes that there’s nothing that Louis has to offer in response to his question. Of course there isn’t, his mind bitterly taunts. He only said he cares to make you feel better.

He’s proven entirely wrong in the next second.

“Because…” he starts, seeming to choose his words very carefully until they’re spilling freely from his mouth. “You’re worth so much more than you think you are. Yeah, you’re a little devious, and yeah, you’ve got this whole ‘tough guy’ act nailed down. But under all that, you… you have a good heart, Mitch. I can see it all the time. Even if you don’t.”

Mitch blanks. There’s nothing that could ever describe the whirlwind of emotions that instantly overtakes him, no amount of understanding that could hope to make sense of it all. Impossibly, he feels gut-wrenching sadness and heartwarming inspiration at exactly the same time, a melting pot of conflicting feelings coexisting with each other, relentlessly battling for the top spot within his mind.

Ultimately, sheer disbelief wins.

“I… think you give me way too much credit…” he mumbles, a rather pathetic reply to Louis’ meaningful expression of his self worth.

Louis doesn’t miss a beat. “Maybe you just don’t give yourself enough.”

Mitch can feel Louis’ eyes practically boring holes into his skin as he grows distressingly silent once again, their shoulders brushing in a way that has him tensing up despite himself. Yet as undeterred as ever, Louis is piping up again before he knows it.

“I see you for who you really are. Whether you like it or not.”

There’s no denying the phrase sums everything up better that Mitch could ever express, himself. Yet he’s unable to think about it for much longer after those words are spoken, for in another, completely unexpected turn of events, Mitch can feel Louis shifting even closer.

A brief pause ensues, before Louis is leaning in the rest of the way. He kisses Mitch’s cheek, and Mitch is blown away how such as simple action can bring forth such an intense response. His heart ricochets inside his chest, his thoughts all but exploding inside his head. He can’t think, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

Then, he’s turning to gawk at Louis as if he’s grown at least five extra heads. Louis bears a similar expression, seemingly shocked at himself, leaving them both staring at one another like two deer within the glow of the same headlights.

“I - I’m sorry, I-”

Maybe it’s instinct. Maybe the rapidly multiplying emotions within him take over, blinding him and masking all the rational common sense he already lacks.

Whatever the reason, there’s no stopping himself, no controlling his own actions. He doesn’t care if Louis regrets it, if he’s apologizing because he didn’t mean to.

Mitch closes the distance between them again, and kisses him.

Louis freezes, but for only a second. Mitch thinks that same emotionally fueled instinct must be taking over him, too, for faster than his mind can process, they’re quite literally kissing each other senseless. It feels as if a slowly cracking dam between them has finally broken, and with it, everything comes effectively pouring out.

He doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts. All concept of time becomes lost upon him, and the only thing that eventually separates them is the burning need for oxygen.

And, as they pull away, in some cheesy, embarrassingly cliche passing thought, Mitch swears the stars above Louis’ dazed, smiling face shine brighter than they ever have before.

#twdgdrabblechallenge #twdg #twdg mitch #twdg louis #twdg louitch #louitch #Q writes

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