#and terrorising your co-stars??

[enbysanavi]

Resident Lover: Cassandra

Cassandra finds out more than she planned about her co-star.

Warnings: N/A

One thing Cassandra thought about on a daily was the fact that someone could outshine her. She wouldn’t go down without a fight but it was a very real possibility that someone out there is better than her.

Luckily she was yet to find that person.

Her Romeo was good but not nearly as good as her but then again there was something so charming about them, something so enticing that she couldn’t help but let a few things slip in order to watch them blush or fumble with their words.

But currently Cassandra was watching her charming co-star do god knows what on their laptop while the two sat in the cafe for a “break”. That was the thing with her co-star, if they weren’t practicing their script they were doing a bunch of other activities to keep busy.

They were in the student council and somehow didn’t go insane, they were in her mother’s art class, worked at Auntie Donna’s flower shop, tying away on their laptop and jotting notes down in their journal, Cassandra swore she even saw them in a heated discussion with Uncle Karl one day during a shift. Cassandra can barely remember a time where they weren’t doing something to keep busy.

It was mildly concern but then again she couldn’t exactly judge. She hated sleeping so naturally she trained herself in the art of doing whatever she could to stay awake which included, theatre work, piano, singing, art and helping Uncle Karl at the mechanics.

Cassandra only did it so she wouldn’t be terrorised by her nightmares so at least she had a good reason, her co-star though… they never slept and even when they did it was in small increments and they would usually wake up at the smallest noice according to Daniela.

Perhaps the two were two sides of the same coins. It seemed highly likely that the two would find each other, who could resist Cassandra’s charm anyways?

Suddenly her co-star snapped their laptop shut as soon as a familiar face walked through the door. Cassandra raised an eyebrow as she peered over her co-star’s shoulder to see who might’ve caused such a reaction from her stoic and serious friend.

Mia Winters walked through the door with that eerie smile on her face like usual. Cassandra sighed, originally she thought that it would’ve been someone important like her mother or ever perhaps the ever Illusive President Miranda but Mia Winters?

Cassandra leaned forward and plucked a chuck of bread off of the sandwich that she bought for her co-star. “You finally decided to take a break? Pigs must be flying for such a thing to happen.” Cassandra chuckled and waited for their response.

The student in front of her bit their lip and stared down at their sandwich, as if they only just noticed that there was food in the area. “Just wanted to pay attention to you.” They said quietly and picked up half of the sandwich before taking a small bite out of it.

Cassandra tilted her head and smiled. “Now you pay attention to the pretty girl in front of you.” She says with an exasperated sigh and leaned back in her chair. “Have you finally decided to actually hang out with people?”

Shifting in their seat, they seem uncomfortable at the prospect of someone thinking they don’t hang out with people. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention.” They mumbled and took another bite of their sandwich.

Cassandra’s eyes softened as she reached over and gently flicked her co-star’s nose. They scrunched up their face all adorable like which just made Cassandra’s heart flutter. “No problem. Seems like I have your attention now.”

The tug of a smile slowly formed on their lips before they hid it behind another bite of sandwich.

At this angle Cassandra could almost be fooled into thinking that their eyes were gold, the way that the sunlight reflected true beauty was something that Cassandra was always happy to indulge in. After all, seeing their eyes wasn’t a rare thing, especially indoors but outside in the natural light they preferred to wear dark circle rimmed glasses that hid the true colour of their eyes.

Cassandra sighed before taking a big gulp of her coffee. “I am going to get another refill. Would you like anything, my Romeo?” She asked as she stood up.

A familiar dusting of rose appeared across her co-star’s cheeks at the mention of their old role. “Something with sprinkles and whipped cream, my Juliet.” They said sheepishly.

Cassandra swiped her credit card off the table and winked at her co-star before walking over to Elena at the counter to order. “The usual for me and my co-star, please.” She smiled at the bored barista who nodded and began working on their drinks.

“Cassandra, look at you go,” Elena began as she brought over Cassandra’s coffee. “You finally made them take a break from studying.”

Cassandra grinned proudly as she sipped her coffee and waited for the other one. “What can I say? I am great at getting people to do what I want…” she trailed off when she turned around to see that her co-star has been effectively cornered by Mia Winters and didn’t seem happy about it.

If anything her co-star seemed frustrated, they hand gripped the back of their chair with a white knuckled grip, they glared up at the woman who looked down on them and they spoke in short answers to whatever Mia was questioning them about.

Cassandra left a confused Elena who once saw what was going down just left the other coffee on the table before leaning against the counter to watch.

Walking over to her co-star and wrapping an arm around their tense shoulders was the plan and yet Mia was blocking her only entrance to get to them so instead, Cassandra cleared her throat and tapped Mia on the shoulder.

“Oh, Cassandra,” Mia smiled and turned away from Cassandra’s co-star. “I was simply chatting with your dear Romeo. We were having a lovely chat weren’t we?” She says and clamps her hands in front of her as she turned back to face the frustrated student.

“No, now go away. I don’t want to talk with you ever again.” They said firmly. It was a pleasant surprise that for Cassandra to watch as her Romeo stood up and, even though they were shorter than Cassandra by a head, defended themself.

Mia smiled eerily before briskly walking away and out of the cafe.

Cassandra quickly walked back to the counter to grab the other drink before she took her seat across from her Romeo, ready to talk smack about what just occurred. When Cassandra noticed their clenched jaw and tensed shoulders, the want to talk smack evaporated.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Cassandra said promptly before standing up and gesturing for her co-star to do the same. “The last thing we want is you blowing a fuse.”

#resident lover #cassandra dimitrescu #nonbinary #fanfiction #fanfic #alternate universe

[fairrryprose]

[BOOK TOUR] SEA OF SOULS (SEA OF SOULS SAGA #1) // N.C. SCRIMGEOUR

"The men are the monsters, and the monsters men."

Welcome to my stop on the book tour for SEA OF SOULS, book 1 in a dark fantasy series involving selkies and blood-drenched seas by N.C. SCRIMGEOUR, hosted by ESCAPIST BOOK CO.!

This was such a darkly spellbinding read following strong-willed fish-out-of-water Isla, a girl who ran away from home to follow her heart to the seas in search of belonging, a girl with the sea in her blood, as she makes a deal with the dangerous selkies who have longed terrorized her homeland of Silveckan to aid them, after the death of her mother which brought her home from the seas and a selkie attack that claimed the life of her father, uncovering long-kept secrets along the way that will upend everything she thought she knew. Along with her estranged brother and a brooding bodyguard with secrets of his own, she finds herself on a journey of discovery, unraveling a tale of identity, belonging, sacrifice, family, and love amidst blood, gore, and endless horrors and secrets.

Every character was special and integral to the story, and the bonds forged between them treacherous as the currents of the selkie-filled seas, navigating betrayal and belonging, and what it means to truly love and to sacrifice. As Isla aids a selkie in a quest to retrieve a stolen pelt, she learns more about the selkies and their lore and finds a kinship with them, realizing that perhaps selkies and humans are not so different after all.

The writing was as smooth and inviting as the sea itself, vivid and darkly beautiful, every word pulsing with the heartbeat of an ocean, with every deftly-placed clue coming together in a riotous ending - or, it may be more apt to say, a new beginning - that will leave you wanting to plunge yourself into the depths of more.

Isla's character growth and the full-circle moments of her finding the crux of her identity, the pieces of her she's been searching for for seven years slipping into place, are so satisfying. As we embark on a scintillatingly tumultuous new beginning at the end of the novel, I can't wait to see where the rest of this series takes us, especially exploring more of the selkies and magic and more.

An easy 4.5/5 star read for me ✨

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Interested in the book? Here are the links for you to get your hands on your own copy:

Universal Link: https://mybook.to/SeaOfSouls

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/145923932-sea-of-souls

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Book Information:

Sea of Souls by N. C. Scrimgeour Series: Sea of Souls Saga Genre: Dark Fantasy/Folklore Fantasy Intended Age Group: Adult Pages: 413 Published: August 4, 2023 Publisher: Alcruix Press (Self Published)

(for CW/TWs, see below)

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Book Blurb:

Dark be the water, and darker still the creatures that lurk within…

Free-spirited Isla Blackwood has never accepted the shackles of her family’s nobility. Instead, she sails the open waters, searching for belonging on the waves.

But when tragedy calls Isla home, she realises she can no longer escape the duty she’s been running from. Selkie raiders have been terrorising the island’s coasts, and when they strike at Blackwood Estate, Isla is forced to flee with her hot-headed brother and brooding swordmaster.

To avenge her family and reclaim her home, Isla will have to set aside old grudges and join forces with an exiled selkie searching for a lost pelt. The heirloom might be the key to stopping the bloody conflict—but only if they can steal it from the island’s most notorious selkie hunter, the Grand Admiral himself.

Caught between a promise to the brother she once left behind and an unlikely friendship with the selkie who should have been her enemy, Isla soon realises the open seas aren’t the only treacherous waters she’ll need to navigate.

As enemies close in on all sides, she must decide once and for all where her loyalties lie if she wants to save what’s left of her family—and find the belonging she’s been searching for.

See Also: 

(This is our attempt at a bit of fun. We ask our authors to come up with a few short, clever, possibly pop culture laden, descriptions of their books just to give a little taste of what’s to come for readers.)

A Compass that Doesn't Point North • Under the Sea • How Dangerous Can a Seal Really Be, Anyway?

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About the Author:

​N. C. Scrimgeour is a science fiction and fantasy author whose books focus on character-driven stories in vibrant worlds, from folklore fantasy to space opera.

After completing her Masters in English Literature, she went on to work in journalism and marketing and communications while pursuing her passion in writing.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys playing story-driven RPGs, watching and reading all things science fiction and fantasy, and getting outdoors with the dog for a good walk!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/scrimscribes

Twitter: https://twitter.com/scrimscribes

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/scrimscribes 

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@scrimscribesGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21463940.N_C_Scrimgeour

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Content/Trigger Warnings:

Alcohol/alcoholism

Amputation

Animal death (fictional/in-world creatures)

Assault

Attempted murder

Blood

Bodies/corpses

Body horror

Bones

Child death (off-page, mentioned only)

Classism

Death

Decapitation

Emotional abuse

Forced captivity

Gore

Gun violence

Hallucinations

Hunting

Injury

Murder

Physical abuse

Poisoning

Pregnancy

Prejudice (fictional/in-world)

Profanity

Self-harm (ritualistic)

Skeletons/skulls

Violence

///

Check out the other stops on the tour here!

#book tour #books #fantasy books #book reviews #book recs #escapistbooktours #sea of souls #nc scrimgeour #fantasy series #selkies #booklr #folklore #dark fantasy #mythical creatures

[moviesandmania]

EVERWINTER NIGHT (2023) Review of ski lodge horror plus trailers

‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies forever.’ Everwinter Night is a 2023 American horror film about female friends being terrorised by a group of men at a remote ski lodge. Directed and produced by Adam Newman from a screenplay co-written with Chris Goodwin. Executive produced by Jay Voishnis and Sean T. Ward. The But It Did Happen Productions-Dreamscape Productions movie stars Sarah…

View On WordPress

#2023 #Adam Newman #Eddie Nason #Everwinter Night #Francesca Shipsey #horror #Nicolette Sweeney #review reviews #Sarah Nicklin #trailer #Victoria Mirrer

[yesterdanereviews]

Super Stooges vs. The Wonder Women (1974)

Film review #547

Director: Alfonso Brescia

SYNOPSIS: A tribal village is constantly under threat from a band of Amazon women who lead raids and terrorise the people of the area. The villagers seek help from three men: a man with superhuman strength, a martial arts ,master, and a man who claims to be a God, and the three team up to stop the Amazons and save the village.

THOUGHTS/ANALYSIS: Super Stooges vs. The Wonder Women is a 1974 film, also known as Amazons and Supermen, Return of the Barbarian Women, Barbarian Revenge, amongst others. The film is a derivative of both the film Battle of the Amazons (itself a derivative of the 1973 film The Amazons), and the Three Supermen series. Interestingly, the film is actually made by the same production companies who made those films (with them making the 1973 film Supermen Against the Orient a year earlier). Despite these connections behind the screen, there are no returning characters or story points from these films, and the only similarity to the Three Supermen is that the film stars three men. The plot is simple enough: a tribe of Amazon women are terrorising neighbouring villages. One in particular has turned to a man who claims to be a God, who seemingly protects the village. The plot of the film is simply having these three men (eventually) team up and stop the Amazons. The story does take a while to get going and have the main characters meet up and confront the main threat of the film, but it’s entertaining enough with a mixture of comedy and martial arts. With a runtime of about ninety-five minutes, 

Each of the characters have their own unique skills and talents, and perhaps surprisingly, their own story arcs. We have Moog, who has super strength, played by Marc Hannibal, who played for the Harlem Globetrotters. There’s also Chung, a martial artist, and finally Aru, who uses pyrotechnics to fool the villagers and Amazons that he is a God who is protecting the village, and also does a lot of acrobatics too. The variety in the characters and their different origins is pretty interesting, although they don’t really have much time to develop any chemistry between them with the main plot and the individual stories to deal with, but it is at least a decently defined cast.

The Italian/Hong Kong co-production, like in Supermen against the Orient, provides a mixture of Western slapstick comedy, with Eastern martial arts which were popular at the time. There’s a good balance between the two, and while there’s nothing that particularly stands out, at least there’s enough action to keep things energetic and entertaining. We also get some typically scantily-clad women in regards to the Amazons, and while their story doesn’t make too much sense, they get some very odd scenes, such as the opening, which depicts one of their forms of entertainment being to duel with bows and arrows on top of stilts or something...truly bizarre. Overall, Super Stooges vs. The Wonder Women is a silly, cheesy, and messy film that doesn’t offer anything special, does throw a lot of varied characters, entertainment and action into the mix to at least be interesting enough to keep your attention. The runtime is slightly too long for a low-budget film such as this, and could have easily have been trimmed down, but at least the pacing is good, and there’s no protracted scenes of inane dialogue to stretch it out. It feels well made and a decent effort in some parts for a low-budget derivative film, but nothing special otherwise. It’s a bit of a laugh in a “so bad it’s good way” if that is something you want to watch.

#movie #movie review #super stooges vs the wonder women #amazons vs supermen #three supermen #film #film review #1974 film

[javierpenaspinkshirt]

A Hundred Questions.

Mando x Reader - One Shot

Warnings: it’s fluffy and it’s soft and it’s a lil bit sweet. Loose Star Wars lore. Brief mentions of death. Dodgy formatting.

Words: 5.2k (woah, right?)

Summary: Mando is a touch starved man who just wants to be loved send tweet.

A/N: I wrote this while I was meant to be writing several reports for work so if you enjoy this soft rambling lmk so I can tell my boss I didn’t waste my whole day.

A Hundred Questions

It had been 6 months, you worked out, since you had met the Mandalorian.

He had landed on Jakku for supplies, knowing it was on an old trade route but also knowing it was only a mere few years on from the battle that had finally seen the Empire fall. He had assumed it would be largely empty and fairly quiet and he was right.

Mando had docked the Razor Crest in one of the bays you were overseeing that day. You’d had to stop your jaw dropping when you had seen him walking down the ramp of his ship towards you. You had seen a lot in your life, but never a Mandalorian. He had sauntered over to you and tipped a few credits into your hand.

‘I need some rewiring done’ his voice was gruff and tired, ‘will this be enough to get it done before I return?’

You looked at the credits in your hand, it was more cash than you had seen in years.

‘Absolutely’ you replied, ‘I’ll have her like new in no time’.

He nodded and walked passed you to leave. You turned to watch him go only to see what looked like a large green ear sticking out of the backpack the Mandalorian was wearing. You knew Mandos were often bounty hunters so you thought nothing more of it, only that it was none of your business.

You did your job and fixed up the ship as best you could. Your dad had been a mechanic before the war. He’d taught you everything he knew and though you had groaned and whined at the time, you were so grateful to him now. You had lost both of your parents and your siblings in the Battle of Jakku a few years ago. You had only survived because you had been underground working in the mines as the battle had begun. You and your fellow miners had hidden and waited out the siege. Eventually you had resurfaced to learn that the battle had been won by the Republic, but the fighting continued on for months until the last Imp dropped.

Mercifully you had survived the onslaught, but not everyone in your company had had your luck. Though you used the term ‘luck’ loosely.

The Imperial forces had arrived on Jakku months before the battle ensued, and in that time they had terrorised the locals. Your existence was an insult to them and they would assault and even kill residents simply for being there. But when the the last one finally dropped you couldn’t bring yourself to celebrate. You were on your own, and you had to get off this planet.

You had spent years working as a mechanic in one of the few lasting ship ports and had saved as much money as you could. You were hoping to be able to afford a small ship just to be able to get the hell away from Jakku and find somewhere, anywhere, else to be.

So when the Mandalorian returned from his trip for supplies you figured you would try and rinse him for a few extra credits. Every little helps, right?

He was walking with purpose towards you and the Crest, bag stuffed full of supplies and a tiny green child, like nothing you had ever seen before, waddling behind him.

‘Is it done?’ He asked, stopping to stand beside you and admire your handy work.

‘Yeah all done no problem, but I’m going to have to charge you for parts’ you wiped your hands on your overalls and put your hands on your hips to look up at him, hoping it made you look important and serious.

‘I’m not paying for anything extra’ the helmet turned to look down at you, ‘I asked for wiring, nothing more’.

His voice was low and gravelly. It made your stomach flip and you lost your cool.

‘Hey you asked me to fix what I could and I did, this thing is gonna fly better than it did when it was built, mate! I need the money for parts!’

‘Absolutely not’ was the only response you received before he bent down to scoop up the strange green child who was cooing at his feet, and began to walk aboard the ship.

‘Wait!’ You called, running up the gang plank to catch him ‘please! Please I need this, please! You don’t understand’ the desperation caught in your throat as you ran passed him and stood in front of him to stop him walking up any further.

‘Please’ you lowered your voice and looked around to make sure none of the other mechanics, or god forbid the boss, could hear you pleading, ‘please, I have to get out of here, I need the money’.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew the Mandalorian was staring you down, making a judgment of you and deciding whether you were worth his time.

‘What are you like with kids?’

Your eyes widened, ‘excuse me?’

He held the little green child close to his chest and looked down at him. The baby cooed at him and made a little grabby motion at the helmet.

‘Can you look after a child?’

The truth was you’d never met a child you liked. You had had several siblings before the war and as the oldest you had often been stuck babysitting, and rather than hone any kind of parental instinct you may have had it had dragged it behind the barn and shot it dead. You adored your siblings of course, and you missed them endlessly, but you would rather have been their sibling than their surrogate parent. Children were your nightmare, but if the small green boy was your ticket out of here… Then you guessed you were going to have to learn to like him.

‘I can’ you agreed, ‘but I’m not a glorified babysitter y’know, I’m a mechanic and a damn good one!’

‘I know, you would be a valuable crew mate. I don’t need a babysitter, I need a mechanic and someone I can trust around the child’, his helmet dropped to look at the baby again. If you could have seen his face you would’ve seen the smile spread across it as he looked down at his little foundling.

‘Trust is very important to me’ you explained, ‘I promise I wont let you down’.

The Mandalorian straightened and sighed, ‘go grab whatever you need and meet me back here in an hour. If you’re not here, I will leave without you’.

Your eyes widened and you darted off the ship calling out behind you that you’d be back soon.

That had been 6 months ago. Since then you had been travelling with Mando and the little boy and it was the freest you had ever felt. You’d fallen into comfortable routine with your time split between him piloting and securing jobs and you maintaining the old ship, keeping her flying and keeping her safe. You shared taking care of the child and, despite your initial reservation, you had fallen in love with the little creature. He was different to human children, he needed more supervision than care and was capable of moving himself around the ship with alarming speed. He’d often sit beside you, fiddling with bolts or some of your tools while you fixed things and he’d watch with those big inquisitive eyes as you grumbled about the mess the wiring was in or rambled on with stories of your childhood. He made you miss your siblings but you pushed those painful feelings aside whenever they arose, instead choosing to tell the little one stories of happy times with your family, especially your dad. He would smile and cock his head as you spoke to him.

Occasionally Mando would listen from the cockpit if you were close enough for him to hear. You never really spoke to him about your family… but that was largely because he didn’t ask. Usually you’d sit with him of an evening once the child was asleep. He’d be in the pilot’s seat and you would sit behind him and ask him a hundred mindless questions. Sometimes he’d answer, sometimes he’d just grunt, but he enjoyed the way your mind worked. He had explained to you early on about the rules about his helmet and he had been relieved when you had immediately respected them. You would make the occasional joke,

‘Bet you’re a gungan under there’ you’d smirk.

Like he hadn’t heard that one before. But he didn’t mind because it was you. You would ask him about his armour, about the creed, you’d even once asked about his family. He’d revealed that he was a foundling but nothing more. You had got the hint and stopped your questioning.

This evening was no different. Mando had secured a job on some outer rim planet you’d never even heard of and you were only an hour or so away from landing. The child had nodded off so you’d left him in the cot in the hull where the two of you usually slept, leaving the door open so you could hear if he stirred from the cockpit.

You resumed your usual position in the co-pilot’s chair and started your usual barrage of questions. Mando grunted at most of them and answered a few.

‘So tell me then, Mandalorian’ you crooned ‘when was the last time you took the helmet off?’

‘This morning’ was the typically blunt answer.

‘Okay but when?’

He spun round in his chair to look at you, beskar glinting, ‘this morning when you were feeding the child’.

‘I’m gonna have to get sneakier if I’m going to ever catch a glimpse of you aren’t I?’ you chuckled.

He let out a gentle exhale. He knew you were joking, he trusted you never to look as you promised you wouldn’t. But he still felt a well of anxiety when you’d joke.

You sensed you’d gone too far and backtracked, ‘sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I was only playing. I would never, Mando. I promise, I owe you my life I’m not going to be the one to ruin yours’.

He cocked his head to the left gently and you hoped it was because he was smiling.

The truth was you hadn’t ruined his life. You’d turned it upside down a little but he didn’t mind. After the events of the last year, protecting the child, having to go on the run, having to face down Moff Gideon and almost dying… being out here with you and his foundling was the escape he craved. He had mentioned Cara to you briefly but he offered no detail as to the origin of the child or any stories about what had lead him to arrive on Jakku and meet you.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and he knew you understood. Though you could question him for hours about all sorts of inane crap, you were good at taking no for an answer.

But the one thing you would bring up consistently was his helmet. He knew you were curious. You wanted to know who the man under the Beskar was and he understood that. He got to look at you all day, see the way you smiled at the child or the way your brow furrowed when you were thinking. He got to see your body, clothed of course, but he got to see the way your hips swayed when you walked or the way the muscles in your arms worked when you were lying down trying to fix something on the ship. You hadn’t even seen the colour of his skin.

He wanted to show you more of him. He had slowly and cautiously admitted feelings for you to himself but he wasn’t ready to admit them to you yet. In the last month or so he had started putting his forehead against yours, especially before he went to bed. You would get up to go down to the hull to curl up with the baby while he would stay upstairs in the sleeping quarters behind the cockpit. But he’d make a point of gently pulling you to him and putting his forehead against yours for just a moment. You never questioned it but he could feel the way your body would tense when he held your arms and then relax as he gently tapped the helmet against you. He didn’t think you knew what this gesture meant and he wasn’t going to explain it. But he hoped you were getting the hint without him having to say anything.

He was still looking at you, waiting for your next question of the night when there was an almighty thump and the ship shuddered violently. Without thought or hesitation you were out of your seat and down the ladder into the hull. The little one had woken up at the jolt and squealed as you scooped him up and ran back up to the cockpit.

Another clang and all the lights bar the dashboard control and the dodgy LED emergency lighting went out. The cockpit was dark save for the blue lights of the dashboard and the child squealed again and clung to your clothes. You sat down in the co-pilot chair and hung for dear life, holding the child as tightly as you dared.

‘Hold on’ Mando commanded as he threw the ship around, dodging what you could now see were meteors and space junk flying at the Crest at alarming speed. The planet you were headed towards was well in view now and you hoped to gods that Mando could get you there without doing too much more damage to the ship.

A few more minor knocks and a few hisses from the engines and Mando managed to land on a baron plain, covered with what must be ash, with no sign of a moon or sun and a dark cloud swelling.

‘This… is where the job is?’ You looked out of the window, holding the child up so he could see where his father had almost crash landed you.

‘Yes. Sorry I shouldn’t have taken my eye off the controls… the meteors knocked the lights and the heat out’ He flicked a few switches but to no avail and slumped back in his chair.

‘Can you fix it?’ He turned the chair to look at you.

‘I can but not until morning, its dark and I wont be able to see properly even with a flashlight. I’d have to go outside to see the damage but if I’m honest I don’t really wanna do that tonight… even with you standing guard’.

Mando agreed and stood up, ‘it’s going to be too cold for you and the kid in the hull tonight, you’ll have to stay in my quarters’.

A lump caught in your throat, ‘with you?’ You hadn’t meant for it to sound quite as eager as it did but it was out there now.

‘No’ was the matter of fact reply, ‘I’ll be here, I can sleep in the chair.’

‘No way, Mando, if you’re going on a job tomorrow you need to sleep, you can have the child in your room, I’ll stay here’ you stood up to make a point.

He sighed. The baby whimpered gently, he was cold. You held him close and wrapped him in the cloak you were wearing. It used to be an old cape Mando wore but it had been ripped and was way too short for him. You adopted it and patched it up and proudly wore it everywhere, it was your little piece of him. Now you used it to wrap the little one tightly to try and warm him.

The temperature outside was freezing and without the heat in the ship you would all be feeling the cold in no time.

Mando finally stirred, ‘I have an idea.’

You looked at him as he sunk down on to his haunches in front of you. He took hold of the loose end of the cape you were holding the baby in and took a knife from his boot. He cut a small length from the cape and held it out to you.

‘Take this. Go into my room, get the baby settled and get yourself comfortable. Then put this over your eyes and call for me’ he was so matter of fact about it that you didn’t question it, just did as you were told.

You had never actually been in Mando’s sleeping quarters before. It was a small room, no kind of decoration or homely nature to it, classic Mando. There was a single cot in the corner against the wall that you assumed he would make you sleep on, you knew him well enough not to fight him on that. You put the baby down on the floor, still wrapped in your cloak. His eyes were drooping and he was gently cooing to himself.

‘Getting sleepy, little one? You can sleep here, I’ll get you your blankets and we’ll make you a nice bed, yeah?’ You spoke to him softly and he lifted his little hand to you. You took his hand and gave it gentle kiss before zipping down to the hull to grab the blankets the two of you usually shared. It was freezing in the hull and you were grateful to Mando for insisting you slept in his room.

You went back to his quarters and swaddled the baby tightly. You put him on the floor at the foot of the cot so you could still hear him if he woke up but wouldn’t squish him or accidentally kick him out of the small bed in your sleep. He drifted off as you were positioning him comfortably, you thanked your stars.

You had grabbed a long tunic from the hull and changed into that, discarding your clothes and boots on the floor. You felt the cold and dived under the thin covers on the cot and put the makeshift blindfold over your eyes.

‘I’ve got the blindfold on’ you called, a slightly inappropriate thought raced to the front of your mind but you shoved it back before any damage was done.

You heard the door open and close and the gentle thud of Mando’s boots on the floor. The room was completely dark save for one small port hole on the far wall. You probably didn’t even need the blindfold, you couldn’t have seen him anyway! But you knew the blindfold helped his peace of mind.

You sat in the bed as you listened to the delicate, dull thuds of pieces of beskar being removed. You tried to guess what was what by the weight of the thud but you gave up after the third piece. Finally the quite clanging stopped and a heavy silence hung in the air.

‘You promise me you wont take that blindfold off?’ His voice was still modulated, the helmet still on.

‘I promise’.

There was a gentle hiss and a click and a quite thunk as he put the helmet down on the floor. You heard him move closer to you then drop what you guessed were blankets on the floor. You could hear him shuffling around, laying one blanket on the floor then covering himself with the other. He was still at last.

‘Good night, Mando’ you whispered into the blackness.

No response but an un-gloved hand reached up from his makeshift bed on the floor and gently squeezed yours.

Your whole body tingled. You couldn’t see him, or anything at all for that matter, but that was the first skin to skin contact you had ever had with your usually beskar-clad hero. You placed your other hand on top of his and squeezed back. That was enough for him and he removed his hand and you heard him wriggle a little until he was silent again.

What you didn’t know was that his heart was racing. He hadn’t felt the touch of another person for longer than he cared to count and it was all the more wild that it was you he had finally been able to touch.

But the memory of the last time he had had his helmet removed haunted him and clouded the joy he so wanted to feel. The flashbacks came occasionally; the explosion, the ringing in his ears and the blood. He’d had to tell Cara to take the child and to run for their lives. He had laid there in the rubble and dust, smoke filling the air and a droid, that would later go on to sacrifice itself for him, standing over him reasoning as to why it should take his helmet off.

In the end he had relented and allowed it to and IG had saved his life. But the trauma of the whole ordeal was still too fresh to ignore and lying on the cold floor of his room, completely exposed without any of his armour was almost too much to bear.

He wanted to sit up and slide himself into bed next to you and hold you, if for nothing more than comfort. He’d been alone for so long and suddenly he had a foundling, a family of friends, and a crew mate he wished was more than just crew. It was a lot to take in but you were pretty good at calming his nerves when he needed it. There had been a few instances when bounties had proven to be tougher than expected but you had always been there waiting for him to return, somehow knowing all the right things to say but you had never dared reach out and touch him, fearing it would offend or upset him. Really it was what he wanted most.

Sensing the restless body on the floor beside you you attempted to reach out and feel where he was. Your icy cold hand made contact with his bare shoulder and he hissed and shot away from you.

‘Shit sorry I didn’t realise you were so close!’ You whispered, trying your best not to laugh but a small snort escaped you and you clasped your hand over your mouth to prevent another.

‘What are you? Part Trandoshan? You must be cold blooded!’ his response was sharp but there was humour in it.

‘Trandoshan? Tall, fearsome, not a fan of Wookiees? You got me’ you giggled quietly again but stopped abruptly when you realised that was the first time you had ever heard his voice un-modulated.

You could hear him breathing slightly heavily from the shock and you took in every breath not knowing whether you would ever hear it without the helmet again.

He settled back down and calmed himself. The shock of the freezing hand on his arm had shaken him from his rapid thoughts of lava tunnels and enemy fire and left his heart racing again.

‘Are you really that cold?’ He whispered up at you.

You nodded but realised he couldn’t see you and rolled over so you were on your front looking down at him, ‘I’m from a desert planet, I don’t do cold! But I’ll be fine once I’m asleep’.

Mando formulated a plan but first he quietly sat up to look at the foot of the bed. He moved to his hands and knees silently and knelt down as he touched his hand to the child’s sleeping forehead. He felt warm enough, safely enveloped in the blankets you had wrapped him in and happily snoring in deep sleep. Mando smiled to himself.

Then, before you could ask a question or protest, Mando pushed you over to the edge of the cot and against the wall. His hands were warm as he gently scooted you over and awkwardly fumbled with the covers as he got in beside you. He was trying to be as quiet as possible but the bed frame creaked, only used to having to support one body.

‘You’ll wake the kid!’ You hissed.

He shushed you and flipped you so that your back was against his torso. He slipped an arm under your neck and draped the other over your ribs and pulled you tight against him. He reached up with the arm under your neck and gently checked the blindfold was still in place.

You smiled at his abundance of caution ‘it’s still there’, you reassured him ‘not that I could see you without it anyway, it’s so dark’.

He huffed gently and put his arm back down and held you close to him.

He was bare chest but radiating heat like a small thermal oscillator. You sunk into him not wanting to cause too much of a fuss in case you put him off and he went back to the floor. But you desperately wanted him to talk to you. You wanted to hear his voice and see what he sounded like when he laughed and you desperately wanted to know what he looked like. You knew you couldn’t see him and you wouldn’t ask to, but maybe you could feel him?

You began to wriggle as slowly as possible to avoid the bed squeaking too much and rolled yourself over so that you were lying on your other side, face to face with Mando. You made sure the blindfold was in place and put your hands down in the small gap between your bodies so as not to touch him with them and startle him with the cold again.

He still had an arm under your neck and the other now gently traced circles on your back.

‘Mando?’ you began.

He grunted back at you and you had to stifle another laugh. Even in the most intimate moment you’d ever shared his immediate response was to grunt at you.

‘Mando… can I touch you? Is that allowed?’

His breathing hitched and you felt him shift ever so slightly and you feared you’d done exactly what you were afraid of and crossed a line.

He moved his arm from your back and took your hands in his. His one hand was big enough to envelop both of yours and you had to smother another inappropriate thought before it blossomed.

‘Not until these are warmer’ he whispered giving your hands a squeeze.

You beamed at him and you hoped he could see you even just a little bit to know how happy you were at the possibility of actually being allowed to touch your Mandalorian’s skin.

He couldn’t see you, but your faces were close enough that he could feel the way you sucked in air in an excited gasp as he said it and he was sure you were smiling at him.

He carefully brought your hands up to his chest and rested them there, letting go and returning his hand to your back and pulling you closer still so that your bodies were touching, his chin resting carefully on the crown of your head.

You spent a few moments just taking in everything you could about him. His skin was soft but scarred. You traced scars and old wounds across his back and his chest. His shoulders were tough and knotted, muscular but tired from carrying the weight of the beskar pauldrons every day since he was little. Every scar told a story and maybe one day you’d be allowed to see them, not just feel them, and you’d be able to ask a hundred questions about how and where… but for now you just gently dipped your fingers into every mark that made him who he was.

You moved up to his neck and felt his heart rate racing as your hands edged closer to his face. You stopped just below his jaw and shifted your head up to look at him. As was normal to you now, you couldn’t see his eyes so you just stared where you hoped they were.

He gave you a timid nod and you breathed in hard as you slowly moved your hands up to his jawline. There was stubble, maybe a few days worth. You wondered if he shaved often? His jawline was sharp and defined, you had imagined it as such. You gently moved your fingers along it, taking in every dip of his mandible that indicated an old injury, every mark you could feel that could have once been a wound, and enjoyed the knowledge that even a proud warrior couldn’t always be bothered to shave.

You left one hand at his jaw and moved the other up his cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb, and moved across to his nose. It was pronounced but fitted the shape of his face beautifully. You would have to imagine how striking his side profile must be. There was a scar across it and little ridge at the bridge that suggested that maybe it had been broken once. You weren’t going to ask now.

You carefully traced a thumb over his closed eye, his eyelashes long and his eyebrows unkempt but not wild – a little like him maybe. You moved up his forehead, more scars and bruising, you wondered exactly how much good that helmet did him. Finally you found his hair and you ran your hand through it and pulled ever so slightly. It was longer than you imagined but not so long that he didn’t care for it. The fact it was at the length it was meant he must cut his own hair, that was enough to pull a smile out of you.

He felt you smile against him and he winced slightly, afraid you were laughing at his messy hair or his bruised face. You rubbed your other hand against his jaw.

‘What colour is you hair?’ The question was tentative, walking on thin ice and unsure how far was too far.

‘Brown’ he whispered, the bass in his voice making your soul leap a little.

You moved your hand back down to his eyelid, ‘and these?’

‘Also brown’ the whisper was even quieter now.

‘Mando, I think you’re beautiful’ you said it as sincerely as you could. You meant it.

He didn’t respond, just lay there still as anything, holding you against him.

You rested your palm on his cheek, feeling the stubble under it as he moved his head to look down at you. He put his forehead against yours as delicately as he could.

You could have stayed there for a hundred years. Wrapped in his arms, his forehead pressed to yours, feeling his breathing slow as his heart rate settled, his skin against yours.

But he moved, and you were afraid that was the end until he took his hand from your back and used it to tilt your chin up towards his face.

You felt his lips against yours and it was like an explosion had been let off inside you. It was tentative and cautious but he held your chin firm, not wanting you to move away from him. His lips were soft, a little chapped, but so undeniably him. Firm but inviting, hesitant but wanting.

He moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, being careful not to knock the blindfold and broke the kiss. He put his forehead back against yours and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You put your hands back on his chest and lay still with him. He would kiss you again but he would need a minute first. And that was fine by you. This was unchartered territory for him and you would give him as long as he needed. There would be time for a hundred questions later.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic #pedro pascal #a hundred questions #the mandalorian fanfiction #dyn jarren #the mandalorian imagine

[destinyc1020]

From my personal experience its z stans I've seen actively hate on tom and try to get his projects "cancelled" and make fun of looks. There was a whole group that were friends that terrorised tom stans and bullied them for over a year and weirdly pretending to be his stans to "set him up" BUT I think that's because from what ive seen t stans are more afraid to talk about z badly cause they'll be killed. This is general fandom stuff im well aware there's racist scum out there that actively hate her but in terms of the general tom fandom I think the hate is more subtle like the exclusion of z but hyping other co stars. Thats why I find it so interesting that your inbox is mainly t stans hating cause it supports a theory I have. I think there's a lot of tom stans jealous that pretend to like her or keep quite about her but because its anonymous we really see peoples true colours.

Oh my word......

Well, FIRST of all, if Z stans have been actively trying to get Tom's projects "canceled" or are making fun of his looks or whatever, then they need to grow up! 🙄 Plain and simple. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Imo nobody should be hated on because of things they can't even help/control, like their height, their race, skin color, or the looks they were born with. How old are these ppl? Are we in elementary school on the playground? 🥴 My gosh.....🙄

I'm assuming a lot of this beef is mainly from Twitter? Because I've already said that imo a LOT (not all) of fans on Twitter from BOTH sides of the fandom seem a bit nuts to me lol. 😅 Just seeing and hearing what I've seen and heard from Twitter, it just sounds a mess. 😩

BUT I think that's because from what ive seen t stans are more afraid to talk about z badly cause they'll be killed.

But why would Tom stans even want to talk badly about Z in the first place?? 🥴

Why are ANY fandoms hating on any of these two ppl? That's what doesn't make sense to me AT ALL.

They both seem like two talented, kind, UNproblematic, hard-working individuals in the industry who have hearts of gold. ❤ Idk why anyone is hating on them at all tbh. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Even if you don't care for certain aspects of their respective fandoms, just IGNORE the weirdos, and focus on the GOOD ones who aren't that way?

[aion-rsa]

Every Upcoming Blumhouse New Horror Movie For 2021 and Beyond

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In just over a decade Blumhouse Productions has gone from a very smart agile indie to possibly the most significant horror production company out there. It’s slate is huge, it most quickly and cheaply, trusts in its creators and favours originality and genuine scares. Though the pandemic has meant certain release dates have had to move, or not as yet locked in, it’s clear the Blumhouse juggernaut is showing no signs of slowing. It has several film in production, with release dates set for 2021 and even more movies in various states of development.

We’ve rounded up the latest on all of Blumhouse’s upcoming horror movies. Note: we have not included TV, we haven’t included anything which is clearly not a horror and the projects which have been in development hell for many years are summarised briefly at the end. We’ll keep this updated so pop back for all your Blumhouse needs.

Image from 2013’s The Purge

The Forever Purge

Release date: 9 July 2021

This fifth installment of the The Purge franchise will reportedly be the last with creator and writer James DeMonaco promising a ‘really cool’ end to the series. This movie was originally scheduled for a summer 2020 release – filming wrapped in February 2020 – but dates inevitably shifted and now it’s aiming for Summer 2021. While DeMonaco wrote the script, the movie is directed by Everardo Gout who’s best known for his work on National Geographic series Mars. The movie stars Ana de la Reguera and Tenoch Huerta with Josh Lucas and Will Patton. 

Welcome to the Blumhouse (second batch)

Release date: 2021 tbc

This imprint which launched in October and streams on Amazon Prime will get another four installments in 2021. The series once again aims to give a platform to upcoming and underrepresented voices. The movies are:

Madres

A pregnant Mexican-American woman and her husband move to a migrant community in California where she starts to experience strange visions and phenomena. Is it the legendary curse? Or is something more sinister going on? This is a first feature from Ryan Zaragoza and stars Tenoch Huerta (The Forever Purge) Ariana Guerra, Evelyn Gonzalez, Kerry Cahill, and Elpidia Carrillo.

The Manor

Residents of a nursing home are haunted by supernatural forces in this film from Soulmate director Axelle Carolyn. Barbara Hershey stars as a woman who’s recently moved into the home following a stroke who suspects malevolent beings are at prey and needs to convince everyone around her she doesn’t belong there at all in order to escape.

Black as Night 

Teenage misfits battle vampires who are attacking New Orleans’ disenfranchised in this feature from Maritte Lee Go which sounds like it might appeal to a young female demographic as well as the usual Blumhouse fans. It stars Asjha Cooper, Fabrizio Guido, Craig Tate, Keith David, Mason Beauchamp, Abbie Gayle and Frankie Smith.

Bingo

Set among an eldery community in the Barrio of Oak Springs, Bingo sees a stubborn group of friends lead by the matriarchal Lupita who keeps them together a family, face their toughest threat yet when they discover their Bingo hall is to be sold to a powerful force. Gigi Saul Guerrero, who directed an episode of The Purge TV show and also a segment of Blum’s Into The Dark horror series takes the helm.

Halloween Kills

Release date: October 15 2021

Originally planned for October 2020, this follow up to David Gordon Green’s 2018 Halloween reboot (which was a direct sequel to John Carpenter’s 1978 Halloween) will now arrive in October 2021 to carry on the saga of Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) and her family in their ongoing battle with Michael Myers. The previous installment was a smart addition to the franchise dealing with themes of PTSD in the wake of what Laurie experienced as a teen so we have high hopes for this. Blum has said the movie will be “Huge” and “Intense” and will feature returning legacy characters from the original. 

Halloween Ends

Release date: October 14 2022

The third part of the reboot trilogy is planned for 2022 and will bring to a close this part of the saga. Ahead of the release of Halloween Kills it’s difficult to predict which direction part three will take us in but if IMDb is to be believed Laurie, her daughter Karen (Judy Greer) and Granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) will be in a final showdown with The Shape.

Paranormal Activity 7 (as yet untitled)

Release date: 2022 TBC

Announced back in 2019, Blumhouse is supposedly planning a seventh installment to the found footage franchise, with Oren Peli the creator of the original Paranormal Activity attached to write. No plot details have been released yet and it’s possible the unexpected events of 2020 have affected plans for this. The latest in the franchise – 2015 Paranormal Activity: Ghost Dimension is the least profitable of the series but still grossed $79M worldwide from a budget of $10M.

Vengeance

Release date: 2021

This is the directorial debut of actor and comedian BJ Novak (who was one of the writers on the US version of The Office, where he also played Ryan Howard), which follows a radio host from New York (also played by Novak) who travels down South in an attempt to solve the murder of his girlfriend and discover what happened to her. The movie co stars Logan’s Boyd Holbrook as well as Ashton Kutcher and Issa Rae. The production began in March 2020 but was put on hold due to COVID19, but has started back up again and Blum says they’ve almost finished shooting what he describes as “a cool, offbeat movie”.

Five Nights At Freddy’s

Status: Pre-production

Currently in pre-production is this adaptation based on the popular horror video game franchise where a night security worker at a restaurant called Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza is terrorised by sentient and murderous animatronic characters who come alive after dark. The movie was originally optioned by Warner Bros with Gil Keenan to direct but is now with Blumhouse under Chris Columbus. Despite delays, Blum is confident this is still very much on the cards telling Inverse “”It’s still active. We haven’t quite figured it out, but we’re getting closer every day.” The videogame franchise featured several sequels and spin offs so if Blum and Columbus can make this a hit there’s every possibility for multiple sequels.

Wolfman

Status: Pre-production

After the massive success of The Invisible Man, long time Blumhouse collaborator Leigh Whannell has signed on to tackle another classic Universal monster with the Wolfman. This is one of the strangest but most exciting titles on Blumhouse’s slate with Ryan Gosling attacked to star as a man who is cursed after being bitten by a werewolf. Gosling is a massive talent, Oscar nominated twice, who is selective with his projects so we can only imagine the script must be something special. 

Mother Nature

Status: Pre-Production

Announced back in May Mother Nature marks the directorial debut of Jamie Lee Curtis herself. An eco-horror co-written by Curtis and Russell Goldman who’s head of development at Curtis’ company Comet Pictures, this is the first film in a three year first look deal Comet Pictures has with Blumhouse. Details are scant but it looks like this will be themed around climate change. “I’m 61 and my motto now is: ‘If not now, when, if not me, who?’” Curtis told EW. Well quite.

Untitled John Ridley Paranormal Thriller

Status: Pre-production

Novelist, screenwriter and director John Ridley is set to write and direct this chiller based on this article entitled ‘Project Poltergeist’ which tells the true story of a young boy who is purported terrified by supernatural occurrences in a public housing project in the 1960s. “This is an incredible true-life narrative of a young man dealing with horrors – both paranormal and racially systemic — in a community that is scarred by hate, yet ultimately brought together by hope,” said Ridley, speaking to TheWrap. “I really appreciate Blumhouse’s commitment to telling stories that seek to entertain audiences even as it challenges them.”

Patrick Wilson in Insidious

Insidious 5

Status: Pitch

It’s been ten years since the very scary first installment of Insidious, one of the franchises that really helped put Blumhouse productions on the map, and the series shows no sign of disappearing into the Further just yet. A fifth film is apparently on the cards with star Patrick Wilson set to direct. The film will focus on the Lambert family ten years on as son Dalton prepares to go to college. “We’ve had a lot of luck with first-time directors who are actors, even Jordan Peele (Get Out) or Joel Edgerton on The Gift,” Blum told Den of Geek.

Caroline Ward in Host

Untitled Rob Savage project

Status: Pre-production

Sure the defining horror movie of 2020 has to be Host, a low budget indie written, shot and released in just 12 weeks during lockdown, a Zoom horror which perfectly captured the zeitgeist. After rave reviews, Savage and his team, screenwriters Gemma Hurley and Jed Shepherd and producer Douglas Cox signed with Blumhouse for a three picture deal. In typical quick and dirty style they’ve already begun work on the first of these features, which will reportedly be scarier and more ambitious than Host. Definitely one to watch.

Untitled Dracula project

Status: Treatment

Announced back in March, Jennifer’s Body and The Invitation director Karyn Kusama is attached to another Universal Monster project – a new adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Kusama told the Kingcast podcast that it would be a fairly faithful adaptation which will lean into the idea of multiple voices and points of view to tell the story, and perhaps present a slightly different version of the Count himself. “I would just say in some respect this is gonna be an adaptation called Dracula but it’s perhaps not the same kind of romantic hero that we’ve seen in past adaptations of Dracula,” said Kusama.

Untitled The Thing Remake/Untitled John Carpenter/Blumhouse Project

Status: Pitch

January of 2020 saw rumours that Blumhouse was working on a new iteration of The Thing, based on the (relatively) recently unearthed longer version of the story the movie is based on Who Goes There?, by John W. Campbell Jr. – the longer version is called Frozen Hell. Though there are two separate entries on IMDb for this project they are clearly the same ‘Thing’ – the ‘Untitled John Carpenter/Blumhouse Project’ suggest the Halloween 2018 director David Gordon Green maybe attached.

Firestarter

Status: Script

This new adaptation of the Stephen King novel has been kicking about since 2010 but there has been some movement recently. Zac Efron has been cast in an as yet undisclosed role and Blum has promised a “faithful” adaptation. At one point Akiva Goldsman was attached to direct, then later Fatih Akin but as things currently stand The Vigil director Keith Thomas is the frame to re-tell this story about a young girl with the telekinetic power to set things on fire. There was a previous adap of this story released in 1984 starring Drew Barrymore and directed by Mark L. Lester, with a miniseries Firestarter: Rekindled broadcast on the sci-fi channel in 2002, so this sits within remake territory.

Untitled Elizabeth Moss Project

Status: Pitch

This is a proposed adaptation of Virginia Feito’s novel, Mrs. March, with Moss producing and set to star. The novel will be published in 2021 and has been likened to Shirley Jackson. According to the synopsis it follows an upper Eastside housewife “who unravels when she begins to suspect the detestable protagonist of her husband’s latest bestselling novel is based on her”. Moss’s Love and Squalor productions with partner with Blumhouse on the project

Also in development:

Blumhouse has a multitude of other projects at different stages of development many of which likely won’t ever see the light of day. Here what else has been mooted.

Mark Duplass in Creep

Creep 3

Status: Development unknown

Third part of the Mark Duplass/Patrick Brice series – reached script stage, last updated Dec 2016

Curse 

Status: Optioned

Werewolf story based on a graphic novel, optioned April 2018

Devil’s Night

Status: Development unknown

Night before Halloween story, reached script stage, last updated July 2017

Families 

Status: Development unknown

Cannibal horror, reached script stage in 2015, last updated January 2017

Fangland 

Status: Development unknown

Dracula as an arms dealer. Script in 2009, last updated March 2017.

Intruders

Status: Script

Dead Snow’s Tommy Wirkola is attached to write and direct this domestic abuse thriller, last updated May 2018.

Read more

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Invasion

Development unknown

A home invasion occurs at the same time as an Alien invasion. Script as of March 2018, last updated July 2020

M3GAN 

Status: Script

Housebound director Gerard Johnstone is attached to this story about a robot doll who develops sentience, with Get Out’s Allison Williams attached. It reached the script stage in July 2018, but no news since.

Magic Eight Ball 

Status: Script

This project about the kids’ toy has been kicking around since 2006 with the latest version of the script listed as June 2019. Currently Jeff Wadlow of Fantasy Island is attached

Sleepwalker 

Status: Script

Alexander Aja who made Switchblade Romance is listed as attached to this, though there’s been no update since September 2017

Snapshot 1988

Status: Optioned

Mike Flanagan was attached to this adaptation of a Joe Hill story, though nothing’s been updated since 2016

The Black Phone

Status: Treatment

Another planned adaptation of a Joe Hill story, with Scott Derrickson attached. No updates since the treatment in 2017 though.

The Breathing Method 

Status: Development unknown

The only story from Stephen King anthology Different Seasons not to be turned into a movie, Scott Derrickson was also attached to this, but there’s been no movement for years with the last update in May 2017.

Untitled Chris Hardwick/Blumhouse Project

Status: Pitch

Collab with comedian and actor Hardwick, no news since October 2017

Untitled Dee Rees Horror Project

Status: Treatment

Collab with Mudbound director, Rees, described as “ghost story centering on an African-American lesbian couple living in a small town”. No news since May 2017.

Untitled Jason Blum/Chris Morgan Project

Status: Script

This collaboration with producer Chris Morgan has been around since 2013, with the latest update April 2017. The synopsis reads “A group of students get in over their heads with their new technological invention.”

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[thekitchensnk]

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 10)

Rating: T Warnings: Violent imagery Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9. Chapter 10

“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

Do they even realise that they’re prey?, he wondered.

He had been stalking them silently for three days, and as far as he could tell, not one had sensed his presence the entire time.

And these are the powerful shinigami who lord it over us all?, he thought disdainfully.

It had been Tadayoshi who had told him about the growing number of disappearances in the district. As the man charged with keeping order in the district and maintaining the gang's iron grasp over the town's wealth, it was his job to keep alert to threats to the natural order, and like all things Tadayoshi did, he did it with grim efficiency. It would not do to have another gang muscle in on their turf, ruining the sweet, sordid enterprise they had going; the town was slim pickings, but even there, there was profit to be found for those willing to terrorise the innocent with threats and violence.

And so he had summoned Gin and put him to work.

Gin had realized long ago that whatever power the man had once held over him was long gone. He had power, Tadayoshi did not, and that made things very simple. It had been Ran-chan who had pulled that particular cloth from over his eyes. But work was work, and they needed to eat. And, he admitted to himself, there was something in the inventive cruelty of the man that he admired. He wielded fear like an artist might use oil paint, and put it to the most creative uses. He could learn from a man like that.

Something about the case had also pricked at him. He knew better than anyone the monsters which prowled in the woods of this district. He had, after all, been tailing them for months. Disappearances were not unusual, per se, but sooner or later, the bodies would always surface, and all would make sense after the fact. But there had been no bodies found this time, and no boasted remarks after too much sake.

It was unnatural.

He had hidden his presence and cast out his senses to read the disturbances in the wind and leaves. It had been a day's work trekking through the undergrowth, but he had found them.

When he had, his heart had jumped into his throat with a cold, seething triumph, because there had been one man there whom he'd recognized. One man, whose face was engraved on the back of his eyelids, whose death he had envisioned a hundred times over.

The man in glasses.

For two days, the shinigami had dragged man, woman and child before that man, and all had met the same fate. And now it was some new unfortunate's turn.

Gin knew her by sight, if nothing else- she had the same becoming button nose as her mother, who minded the pawnshop in town. Distantly, he realized that the woman would never find out what happened to her daughter. She would spend the rest of her days imagining and crying into her pillow. If she was lucky, she'd be able to convince herself that her daughter had run off to escape the dirty, grimy streets of her hometown. If not-

Well, what was it to him? 

The shinigami had found her alone in the woods, waiting for her acne-spotted beau. There was no privacy to be found in town, not in dingy rented slum rooms filled packed to bursting, and so the amorous and the foolhardy had always come to the forest for their dalliances, baring their naked backs to the moonlight.

She was not bad looking, Gin noted. Her eyes had the warm brown of tree sap, and they were childish and round. She looked younger than she was, and rare for this town, she acted it too, constantly getting into shouting matches with her mother. He had heard them yelling up a storm on more than one occasion.

She was a fool. She had tried to run out into the trees to escape her captors. That hadn't worked so well for her. One second she had been running off, and the next she was exactly where she had started, but in the hands of one of the shinigami. It was as if the man had flickered in and out of existence. Gin's eyes had narrowed then- he had not known it was possible to move that quickly, and his swift mind had quickly turned to pondering the mechanics of such a trick.

She was still in the shinigami's hands now, and he grasped at her chin with an iron grip, squeezing her cheeks hard so that her lips popped out comically, like a fish. Her brown, round eyes were wide and fearful; the man laughed and laughed.

"Give me a kiss, sweetheart," he crowed.

The man in glasses turned to him then. "Don't be vulgar," he chided gently, and he turned to address the captive girl. He stroked her hair tenderly, in an almost paternal way. That was potentially the most disturbing thing of all.

He looked her straight in the eyes. "You're going to help us in a scientific experiment," he told her honestly. "The results will be of immeasurable value to me. Please," he said softly, "try your best to co-operate. This will hurt."

In one hand, he held a jar, and he dipped his hand inside it, pulling out a gem which glowed more eerily and beautifully than the stars.

Once, one spring day long ago, a baby bird had fallen from a nest near the house. Rangiku had picked it up and cradled it delicately in her hands. She had looked at him with her big, blue eyes and beseeched him to help.

There was nothing they could do to help, no matter how many worms he had fed it. The bird had died, and the flies had descended.

The man held the glowing gem in his hands just as delicately as she had the bird, if not more so. He held it as if it was life and love itself, and advanced slowly towards the girl pinned in the shinigami's hands. The coldness in his eyes gave lie to all his feigned tenderness.

She began to scream and kick her legs in panic, and the man in glasses’s assistant clasped a hand over her mouth. "Shhh, shhhh, sweetheart," he said roughly, "it won't be long now." The eerie light of the hougyoku danced in her eyes. Gin could feel its power slide over him like a silk veil over his skin, and he could not prevent the hairs on his arms from standing on end and a sick shiver running through his body.

Her eyes were wild, and she kicked frantically now, but the man's strong, gentle hands kept her pinned in place.

On rare occasions, Gin had been able to afford tea.

It was a particular treat. Rangiku had complained at first that it tasted bitter, but she had soon developed as great a fondness for it as he had, and would whine if he didn’t think to buy any when they could afford it. As soon as the leaves touched the scalding water they had boiled over the hearth, they had bled the water green and yellow, and the color had seeped and spread.

The contours and boundaries of the girl’s body blurred against the background of the world as the fabric of her body began to unravel. When she sobbed, the tears were molten like liquid mercury, and they melted into the air. Her anxious, survival-panic breathing fell silent in a matter of minutes; her skinny, threadbare lungs could not breathe in oxygen. Soon, he could not tell where she ended and the rest of the world began, her edges were so frayed and damaged. It was a slow disintegration. Simply, as if those amber eyes had never existed in the first place, she dissolved. She bled into the thin air.

The shinigami's hands clasped around nothing.

This was the fifth time he had watched this perverse ceremony conducted by the man with glasses, and he could not help but think of tea.

The man with glasses was silent for a long while after, though whether in disappointment or anger Gin could not tell.

"Aizen-sama-" one of his followers started.

 "It isn't strong enough yet," Aizen said with finality. "Either that, or these souls do not have the reiatsu to withstand the process. But still, this was valuable data." He pulled himself up to his full height and addressed his followers. "We will require repetition to ensure the accuracy and validity of our results. If we are met with further lack of success, gentlemen, then I would suggest that the remedy is already evident."

His words rang with strange implications Gin could not parse, but everyone else stared on in disbelief.

"Let us return."

Gin's eyes narrowed in the darkness.

They were shinigami; it was clear where they were going. He made as if to follow but stopped suddenly, his heart sinking in realisation.

He could not tail them all the way to Seireitei. The journey would take weeks to walk, and they moved too quickly for him to follow.

He could not abandon Rangiku for weeks.

(In the back of his mind, he was beginning to reconcile himself to what that implied, reconciling himself to what he would need to do if he was to ever see this through to the end, though to think of it pained him greatly.)

There was a choice to be made looming on the horizon, and he knew he could not put it off for much longer, though he wanted nothing more than to ignore it forever.

He could not find what they had taken from her if he stayed here. He could not kill that man if he stayed here. He would need to grow in strength, would need to be close enough to be able to strike him down. And that meant that he had to leave.

She would not want him to go. She would hate him if he did.

(Something in him trembled at the thought of that.)

 But he had to. For her sake.

 (Or so he told himself.

But it had never been as simple as that. He never did allow himself to consider the possibility that the thing she wanted most in the world, more than anything, was for him to stay and to care for her- to love her with a purity and simplicity he might not be capable of. He overruled the thought at once, arrogantly

The love of violence and ruin beat beneath his skin like a second pulse, and he had never felt fury like this until he met her. It was in his blood, it was in his veins, this sick and disgusting love of her, this pure and powerful urge to harm, and it could no more be denied than he could stop the beating of his own heart.)

If he dwelt too long on it, he would be lost, and so he forced himself to move on.

Aizen, he thought to himself. Aizen.

A small, secret savage triumph coursed through him. He thrummed with it, and it jolted his nerves like a hit, like a drug.

Aizen.

He smiled, and it was a frightening thing.

He had a name.

--

Her birthday always heralded the dying of the year- the leaves on the trees would turn orange and yellow and begin to crinkle before falling to the ground, and the garden would slowly drain of color, sleeping till spring. And yet, there was beauty still; though there were no more persimmons and her sunflowers had given up their long sunlit vigil, the spider lilies bloomed as the decay set in, a beautiful splash of crimson amidst the brown.

They had seen the beginnings of fall set in together this year, the slow curling of the leaves, the mists floating down from the mountains and the tempestuous shift in weather. He had not left her side all month.

It was just like old times, and her heart would have sang in gladness had it not been so unsettling. She had just been beginning to accept his absences. The change in pattern, loath though she was to admit it, felt ominous; it felt like the static in the air and the leaden weight of clouds before a thunderstorm. It sat uneasily on her.

She felt shy, suddenly, anxious that she had upset him at Nakamura-san's wedding when she shouted that he would never leave. She feared that he had resigned himself to staying now out of guilt, and nothing else more.

She hated the thought that she might be limiting him.

On the morning of her birthday, she woke late. The first thing she saw when she turned her groggy face and opened her eyes was his face, scarce inches from hers. She blinked in bleary-eyed surprise. She could see every individual strand of his fine silvery hair, and each individuated eyelash.

He was smiling. He always did, of course, but she knew that he had different kinds of smiles- mocking smiles and strained smiles and inscrutable smiles and mysterious smiles. This was none of those; it was a soft, tender smile. She had never seen him give anyone else a smile like that, and some small possessive part of her liked to think of it as hers.

"Gin...?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Don't go back to sleep," he whispered. He was thrumming with excitement, she realized. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Happy birthday, Ran-chan. Did ya' forget?"

Her birthday.

The day they met.

Her heart melted in her chest and gentle, happy laughter bubbled up and out of her. This was perfection and beauty, the best life had to offer- he was here and he was close and he had let her lie in.

"As if I ever could," she told him.

Outside, despite the chill crispness of the air, the autumnal sun shone brightly.

"Don't sleep the whole day away," he commanded. "I'm makin' breakfast." He pulled back, and she made a small mou of disappointment. He leapt to his feet and started to boil the water.

"When did you get the water?" she mumbled.

"I went down to the river while ya' were snorin' ya' life away."

"Mrrrm," she groaned, ignoring the jibe in her struggle to adapt to the waking world. Ten more minutes was reasonable, she argued to herself. He wouldn't begrudge her ten more minutes sleep on her birthday. Happy with her sleep-logic, she rolled over with a contented sigh and closed her eyes.

"Rangiku," he sang in warning. She opened one eye in dread and her back stiffened. She knew that tone of voice. It had never heralded anything good. "If ya' don't get up, ya' know what will happen."

A kind of excited nervous terror filled her. It was her birthday, she decided anxiously. He wouldn't dare.

 Ichimaru Gin would always dare.

She howled and kicked as he tickled her, squirming and rolling about in their blankets. He gracefully avoided a flailed kick to the head, grabbing her ankle in the process and pulling. She yelped and moved her hands to prevent herself sliding, leaving her sides open to further tickles, and she shoved at him helplessly. He was, as in all things, absolutely merciless and he couldn't help a genuine grin of delight.

"Ready to give up yet, Ran-chan? Just say 'Ichimaru Gin is the best' and I'll stop. Promise," he sang deviously at her.

"Never! Ichimaru Gin is the worst! Ichimaru Gin is the worst!" she shouted stubbornly.

It was too easy. "Oh? Well, if ya' think I'm the worst now, I'm just goin' ta' have to show ya', aren't I?" He redoubled his efforts, and she laughed and wriggled about frantically until her eyes teared up.

"Okay, okay!" she shouted desperately. "Gin is the best! Stop! Stop!”

He obliged, and let her catch her breath. Her sides ached and she gasped for breath, but she was still smiling. A rush of affection came over him.

"Nah, Ran-chan?" he said slyly. "Ya' do know I was lyin', right?"

She shrieked.

 When he did stop, a full ten minutes later, her hair was tangled, her eyes bright and her face red. The water had boiled over, and so he'd had to start all over again. Her stomach grumbled, and she rubbed at it.

"You're the worst," she huffed. "I hate you."

He look thorough unfazed. "No you don't."

She slumped where she sat. "No I don't," she agreed petulantly. "Who even knows why?"

"It's 'cause I'm brilliant," he informed her.

"A brilliant pain in the bum," she countered.

He feigned a wounded look. "So harsh. It's a good job I like ya' present. I think I'll keep it for myself now."

He had known that the mention of presents would get him off the hook, and so he had kept it in reserve, waiting to deploy it strategically.

She immediately took the bait. Her face lit up and her eyes shone with excitement. It was one of his favourite expressions in the world and getting to bask in it knowing that he was its cause was endlessly satisfying.

"Where is it?" she asked eagerly, but he said nothing. He wanted to string out her excitement, savouring it. Let her squirm a little bit longer, he thought. In some ways, he enjoyed her birthday far more than his own. He liked her excitement.

"Don't know what ya' mean," he said blandly. "My present is waiting for me to open."

She poked him in the side. "Stop being mean."

He rubbed his side. "You said you hated me!" he pointed out.

"I took that back!" She paused for a moment, and the twin of his own sly smile flashed over her face. "Give me my present and I'll prove that I don't."

He was intrigued in spite of himself. In any case, he could never stave off her demands for long. He was embarrassingly incapable of it.

He gave her a calculating look, wondering what she had planned. "Alright," he said suspiciously. "Close your eyes and hold out ya’ hands."

She did so, but tried to keep her right eye half-open so that she could peek through her lashes. He saw through her immediately.

"Ran-chan, you cheat," he admonished, delighted at her sneakiness. She had learnt well. "No peeking."

She grinned, but obeyed.

Ever so carefully, he took her present from out of the folds of his yukata, and slipped it onto her index finger. He paused at the knuckle, and pushed gently. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Ya’ can open them now," he announced.

Her eyes darted immediately to her finger and she gasped when she saw what was there.

"How did you get this?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide.

It was a ring. It was tarnished and scratched and had obviously seen better days, but it was still beautiful and perfectly sized for her girlish fingers. It wasn't made of gold, or even silver for that matter- it was far more likely a cheaper tin, but that didn't matter at all. It shone. It was hers, and she loved it at once.

She worried for a moment that he might have stolen it, but pushed the thought aside immediately, caught up in admiring it.

He watched her the entire time, eager.

"I used the leftover persimmon money," he explained. Plus the money from his last job for Tadayoshi, he thought to himself, but he didn't dare mention that. He had come by that ring honestly, even if some poor sucker had pawned it and even if some poor soul had had to die for it, and he was fiercely proud of the fact. "Do you like it?" he asked with studied casualness.

She could barely get the words out. "It's the most precious thing I own." Her eyes darted from the ring to his face. "I love it."

His answering smile was one of satisfaction.

"You put it on the wrong finger though," she said suddenly, and lifted up her hand. "Rings go on this finger. Do it properly."

He rolled his eyes. "Ya' buy a girl a present, and she says she loves it, and then she goes on complainin' that it's on the wrong finger. Can't win, not ever."

"Fix it," she demanded.

"Yare, yare," he sighed, but he shuffled over to her and obeyed anyway. He slipped the ring off her index finger and onto her ring finger. "Happy now?" he asked.

"Never, if it makes you grumpy like this all the time. You look so cute!" she teased, and grabbed for his cheeks. He evaded her hands easily. But teasing had never worked on him before, and it didn't stick this time either. He just smiled patiently, like always.

"So, Ran-chan. I gave ya' ya' present. Time to 'fess up- ya' were just cheatin' ta' get ya' present, weren't ya'? Ya’ didn’t have anythin’ planned, did ya’?" he prodded triumphantly.

She hadn't been cheating, but the thought sent butterflies into her stomach. She breathed in deeply, and exhaled in a bid to steel her resolve. She looked at him unflinchingly. "Nope," she said deliberately. "I wasn't, actually."

His smile faltered in confusion.

"Your turn now. Close your eyes."

He tried to peek. Of course he did, but she was wise to his tricks. "No peaking!" she chided with a flick to his forehead, and her heart jumped into her throat with nerves.

He did as he was told.

It was strange, sitting there in anticipation.

The blackness behind his own eyes had never seemed so fraught and soft with possibility. He could hear everything- the wind outside, the creak of the wooden beams in the house, the slightest scuff of her yukata on the floor. He felt the weight of his own arms and the location of his limbs with heightened sensitivity.

He did not know why, but he was nervous, all of a sudden, and the realization that he was was almost laughable. There was no reason for nerves, not with her, not ever. He heard her shift forwards slightly, but he could not tell why. His heart fluttered and skipped a beat. He could barely stand it, and so he opened his mouth to speak, to ask her whether she had done whatever it was she was going to do, and-

Her lips were on his, and they were soft and clumsy and warm enough to break a heart.

(He was suddenly certain that it was happening to his right then- how else could he explain this surge of feeling in his chest, the sweetness, the agony? The was clumsy, and tentative, like something newborn, but it was beautiful.

Of course it was- it was hers. She was the first and most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had thought that the very first day he saw her.)

His eyes flew open in shock and he was mute with surprise.

He could only gape.

She withdrew quickly, and a flush sat high and pink on her cheeks.

"Don't laugh-" she urged desperately, "-don't laugh, not even for a minute, Ichimaru Gin. Don’t laugh."

He stared dumbly at her, and his hand rose with no intervention from his brain to touch his lips, which hers had touched mere seconds ago. 

Her mouth ran desperately to fill the silence he left.

"I could never hate you completely, not really. Not if you tickled me for hours, not if you made me dig up the garden and dangled every worm in my face, not if you made fun of every other person on earth-" her breath hitched, and her tone became desperate "-not even if you left me, not even then, I think. Not then. You gave me this birthday, and for as long as I live, I'll wake up today and think of you because you saved me and you gave me a home."

His mouth was dry. His eyes were wide. His heart was in his throat.

(His heart was sitting right in front of him.)

Her eyes widened in sudden fear. "Say something. Say something!" she begged, but he was dumbstruck. "I should have realized that I was going too far- I - I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please forgive-" She moved to rise. "I'll go-" she started in a watery voice, but his arm shot out to grab her, and his grip was like iron.

She looked him in the eyes. They were a rare sight, even for her. Occasionally, when she was bored or in the mood to be a nuisance, she would prod him interrogatively in the side and say "Why don't you ever open your eyes? How can you even see?"

He would always give her a quizzical look, like she was being stupid, and say "But they are open," and she would shake her head and go, "Nope, definitely closed," and they would bicker light-heartedly.

But they were open now, in all their sharp brilliance, and they were trained on her, and they were calm, like a placid sea.

"Don't go," he said simply. "And don't apologize."

And so she didn't.

He flopped down on the floor in a daze then, and he smiled. It was an easy, giddy thing and it was filled to the brim with delight and wonder. She looked at him like she would never understand him in a thousand lifetimes, and then quickly looked away, a blush on her cheeks. She hid a soft smile in the crook of her arm.

No more was said on the matter that afternoon, nor indeed for a long time after, even though he knew that he would certainly not have been opposed to being kissed again, and she knew that she would certainly not have opposed kissing him.

(It will be years before the matter rises again- but it will rise again.)

#bleach #gin ichimaru #rangiku matsumoto #ginran #ichimaru gin #spider lilies #it h a p p e n e d #35k in and the mad lass did it #even when Gin is acting like a soft boi he's a demon

[moviesandmania]

HE KNOWS (2022) Reviews of seasonal elf slasher

HE KNOWS (2022) Reviews of seasonal elf slasher

‘He knows when you’ve been good or bad, so be good for your own sake!’ He Knows is a 2022 American slasher horror film about a psychotic elf who returns after twenty years to terrorise a  small town. Directed by Steven Anthony Morris from a screenplay co-written with Kermet Merl Key The movie stars Kayla Kelly, Joshua Scantland, Julie Anne Prescott, Lynn Lowry, Brian Bowles, Seth Hacker, Shawn C.…

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#2022 #Brian Bowles #He Knows #Joshua Scantland #Julie Anne Prescott #Kayla Kelly #Lynn Lowry #movie film #review reviews #Shawn C. Phillips #slasher horror

[holomoriarty]

Niles/CC and 48 :)

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

Definitely cheating with this one, but this is the perfect time to actually get this Halloween fic I wrote in like the 1st of November published lmao.

paging @kassandra-lorelei and @missbabcocks1 cos I know this might be of interest to them

The party is in full blown, and Niles rolls into the kitchen through the backstairs, sulking at the still visible wine stain on his otherwise stark white shirt. A very important investor who had had a few too many had bumped into him whilst he was carrying a very expensive bottle of wine, and now he was wearing three years worth of salary on his shirt.

He knew he should change shirts, but leaving an entire household worth of stupidly rich guests with noone to serve them would assure pandemonium. He'd have to make do until the party thinned out. Luckily the fact that it was a Halloween themed party would help disguise the stain as part of his costume.

Stepping down the staircase, he stops dead in his tracks, finding a very familiar curvy figure standing at the kitchen island, her back to him. Boo indeed, a man could lose his head over a woman like that. Hell, he feels he may already have.

He silently rounds the corner, thanking the stars she seems to be a hundred miles away and hasn't noticed his presence yet.

He manages to stand a hairline distance from her back, and leans in slowly to whisper in his spookiest voice. "Cellulitis... Flappy arm skin... Hair in strange places..." He feels her give a little startled jump, and chuckles triumphantly.

She doesn't lose a beat in replying, however. "No need to describe it, lover. I've seen you naked."

Niles' grin widens, and he eyes CC mischievously as she turns to face him. "Not today, unfortunately..." He has to admit, opening the door to her dressed as Morticia Addams earlier that night had to be one of the biggest thrills of his life.

CC cocks an eyebrow at him, and reaches to wiggle the fake sharp canines Maxwell had forced him to wear for the party. "Oh, yes, because Count Chocula is such a turn on."

Niles just hums, pushing his hips against hers, trapping her against the island, CC's arms coming instinctively around his neck. "What are you doing here, witch? Ran out of little children to terrorise?"

"I was thinking of a sacrifice, actually. Someone mentioned this is where Earth's oldest virgin spends his menial days." She contrasts her words by running her hands down his back slowly.

"Baby, if you think after the things we've done I'm still a virgin, I have news for you."

"Ugh, don't remind me," her wince of disgust is almost perfect, if a little smile wasn't tugging at the corner of her mouth, "I still have nightmares about your flappy white ass wiggling in the air."

Niles smiles smugly, and leans closer to CC's ear slowly, nuzzling her cheek on the way. "Then why do you keep coming back for more?" he whispers, and his smile only grows when CC visibly shivers, clearly affected.

"I thought we'd established that I don't like myself very much. Call it a self-destructive streak." Niles moves down to her neck, and nips at it, earning a little curse under her breath from CC.

"That's all right, love. I like you enough for the both of us," he murmurs against her skin.

CC can't help the little smile that curls her lips. "Mushy idiot."

"Cold b-" The words are cut short by the sound of the kitchen door swinging open, and Niles pulls back from CC's neck in time to see Maxwell staring at them with a cocked eyebrow and a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"Niles! CC! What are you doing?" There's no little amount of goading, it's a loud secret that CC and Niles are sleeping together, and an even louder secret that Maxwell and Fran know.

Both their faces are unreadable, however, and Niles replies without missing a beat. "Feeding, sir. I can confirm her blood is cheap and tasteless, just like the woman herself."

CC takes a step away from Niles, though he can see a small smirk on her face. "Put a leash on your butler, would you Maxwell? He's been getting awfully handsy."

Niles directs her a heated look, and CC replies in kind with one of her own before Maxwell clears his throat loudly. "Can you two behave like normal people for one night, please?"

CC just smiles peacefully. "Oh, Maxwell, it's Halloween. We've only gotten started," she murmurs, winking at a grinning Niles before walking out of the kitchen, the tail of her long black dress sashaying behind her.

#niles the butler #cc babcock #otp; cluck like a chicken #my writing #i put a readmore on this because this one is a bit long for mobile lmfao #also i hope you don't mind I totally cheated on this one lmao #the rest will be done tomorrow cos it's getting pretty late! #greenkneehighs #A Bottle Drifting in Space

[moanaamovies]

Vivarium review – home is where the hell is

In one of the creepiest episodes of the vintage American TV series The Twilight Zone, residents of the apparently idyllic Peaksville find themselves cut off from the rest of the world, terrorised by the petulant yet godlike mind of a small child. Adapted from a story by Jerome Bixby, the episode (ironically entitled It’s a Good Life) struck a chilling chord with audiences in 1961, watching from behind their picket fences, mesmerised by its darkly comic vision of a world in which failing to think happy thoughts was punishable by death, or worse.

You can see a trace of It’s a Good Life (which has continued to resonate through popular culture) in Vivarium, the second feature from director Lorcan Finnegan and writer Garret Shanley, a paranoid fable in which the aspiration of acquiring a dream home turns into an increasingly surreal nightmare of imprisonment. Jesse Eisenberg and Imogen Poots (who recently co-starred in Riley Stearns’s The Art of Self Defense) are Tom and Gemma, the young couple searching for a place of their own. She’s a teacher, he’s a tree surgeon; together, they have been urged to get on the property ladder. But finding the perfect place is proving tricky.

Vivarium review

One minute Tom and Gemma are happy-go-lucky young lovers, the next they’re terrified, exhausted wrecks When they meet creepy estate agent Martin, whose awkward unearthly smile wouldn’t look out of place in a David Lynch remake of Galaxy Quest, the couple’s instinct is to bolt. Instead (presumably driven by their desperation to become homeowners) they follow Martin to Yonder, a Stepford-style development outside the city (“near enough, and far enough – just the right distance”). Here, they promptly become trapped in a maze of little boxes – endlessly reproduced rows of identical houses, all the same shade of sickly green, all with the same surgical strip of grass out front. And all eerily empty…

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The title Vivarium (a container for observing small animals in a re-creation of their natural environment) provides a signpost for where this is going. Suffice to say that Tom and Gemma find themselves in a pastel-coloured simulacrum of suburban hell, raising a monstrous child whose arrival is prefigured by a horrifying opening sequence of a cuckoo invading a nest, screaming to be fed by its bewildered surrogate mother. “That’s nature,” Gemma tells one of her young charges, “that’s just the way things are,” adding forlornly that “it’s only horrible sometimes”.

As with all such Twilight Zone-style fantasies, it’s the details we recognise that make the unimaginable seem immediate. While Yonder looks less like a set from The Truman Show than an infernal version of Teletubbyland (the digital landscapes and barrage-balloon clouds are appropriately artificial), the gradual disintegration of our central couple remains skin-crawlingly close to home. From their initial in-car bickering about who gets to drive (“Give me a go,” “What are you, six?”) to their chippy despair as entrapment sinks in, Tom and Gemma’s relationship fractures along all too familiar lines. One minute they’re happy-go-lucky young lovers, looking forward to a life filled with possibilities; the next, they’re terrified, exhausted wrecks, held hostage by the shrieking demands of an alien child who mimics their every word and gesture, living in a dream-world neither of them wanted, each blaming the other for their predicament.

FacebookTwitterPinterest Watch a trailer for Vivarium. In his director statement, Finnegan (who reportedly drew tonal inspiration from Hiroshi Teshigahara’s 1964 classic Woman in the Dunes) describes Vivarium as addressing the “fantasy version of reality that we strive towards” in world where “consumerism is consuming us”, and in which the promise of ideal living is “the bait that leads many into a trap”’. There’s an element of Cronenbergian revulsion in the tasteless, plasticated food parcels that keep Tom and Gemma alive, while the echoes of horror movies – from Village of the Damned to Poltergeist – increase as the satire turns ever more sinister. Yet even in its most overtly chilling moments (a third-act descent into hell recalls a memorably hallucinogenic sequence from Terry Gilliam’s Brazil), Vivarium keeps its tongue placed firmly in its cheek, reminding me somewhat of the absurdist, smiling tone of Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe’s recent picket-fence parody Greener Grass.

You can see the seeds of Vivarium in the ghost estates of Finnegan and Shanley’s chilling 2012 short Foxes, and there are times this feels like a single idea stretched to feature length. But there’s enough visual and thematic invention to keep viewers gripped and unsettled, particularly in these unprecedented, isolated times.

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A (brief) history of PlayStation football • Eurogamer.net

Wesley Yin-Poole

Deputy Editor

@wyp100

Last night, following Manchester United's 3-0 Champions League group game victory against Basel, manager Jose Mourinho expressed his anger at the way his side had played.

The demanding Portuguese said his players played with too much confidence and, well, took the piss a bit.

"We were playing fantasy football, PlayStation football, flicks," Mourinho said. "I don't like it. We gambled a little bit, but football is football and you have to respect your opponent.

"I don't know if goal difference will play a part. We lost position, our shape, we lost balls in easy situations. I didn't like it, the players relaxed too much."

While Mourinho's comments come across as a tad harsh, he's not the first manager to blast his players for playing "PlayStation football". In fact, the Premier League and PlayStation have a bit of a history.

Mourinho's latest jibe got me thinking about other times PlayStation has come up in real-world football. My list includes multiple references to Sony's console - some hilarious, some ridiculous and some downright pointless. But throughout it all remember this: the thing about Arsenal is, they always try to walk it in.

Gary Neville versus David Luiz, aka David Lolz

Regular readers may be aware that I'm a Chelsea fan. I also love David Luiz to bits. But even I can see angry pundit Gary Neville had a point when he likened Luiz's performance in Chelsea's November 2011 defeat at Liverpool to "being controlled by a 10-year-old on a PlayStation".

The flamboyant Brazilian defender is like that. He's about as PlayStation a footballer you can get. He often does incredible things (that free kick against Liverpool, for example), but every now and then he makes a mistake that costs us a goal. But the Bridge would be a poorer place without him. In fact it was, while Luiz played for PSG for a bit.

In any case, Luiz is no longer the PlayStation footballer he was. Under Antonio Conte and in a 3-5-2 formation, he's become one of the best defenders in the league. So now he's just a bit mad and also very very good, which is ideal.

Anyway, here's the inevitable Gary Neville backtrack.

Roy Hodgson versus Wayne Rooney

Back in August 2013, then England boss Roy Hodgson (who's now managing Crystal Palace somehow) warned Wayne Rooney not to chat to left back Ashley Cole about a rumoured move from Manchester United to Chelsea while playing... PlayStation.

Hodgson, in his infinite wisdom, didn't want England players thinking about anything other than performing terribly for England. So, he ordered they leave their club rivalries at the main gates and ignore the conversations around the PlayStation, which it seems is the football version of the water cooler.

"I don't know whether it's nave, but Ashley Cole and Wayne are quite close friends and I'm sure David Moyes knows that as well," Hodgson said.

"If they aren't speaking in the hotel they will be speaking on the phone. I do accept a duty of care and I will try to make it clear to the players of Manchester United and Chelsea that they will be with England now.

"As far as we're concerned you can speak as much as you like to each other, but during these two or three days this is about England versus Scotland and the matches beyond that.

"I don't expect anybody for one minute to fracture their concentration from what's important.

"Both David Moyes and Jose Mourinho have been very supportive and fully understand my position."

In the end, Rooney stayed at Manchester United. Didn't help David Moyes much, though.

Petr Cech versus Rock Band

Here's an odd one. Arsenal goalkeeper Petr Cech loves playing the drums. He even has his own YouTube channel in which he, yep, plays the drums. And he's pretty good! But did you know he got into playing the drums after ex-Chelsea goalkeeper Carlo Cudicini introduced him to Rock Band on PlayStation? Here's the quote:

"I never played any instrument before and I never had a music lesson or anything like that. But then once with Carlo Cudicini we played Rock Band on the PlayStation and I jumped on the drums without ever playing it before.

"I had so much fun and realised how much I enjoyed it because I love music in general. I was always listening to music but I realised that actively participating in the song you enjoy listening to was even better.

"Then he told me to get the digital drum kit so that I could put the iPod in and play along to songs for fun and relaxation."

Cech reckons playing the drums has made him a better keeper. "You need to find a way to co-ordinate things and, once you learn how to programme your brain to do that, it helps you to co-ordinate even for football," he said.

So there you have it. PlayStation made Petr Cech a better goalkeeper, or something.

Chile versus Lionel Messi

In July 2015, Chile were set to face Argentina in the Copa America final. The problem was, Argentina had Lionel Messi, probably the greatest footballer ever, to contend with. To combat Messi, Chile had their players play on a PlayStation. That's about as detailed as the reports got, but here's the quote from coach Jorge Sampaoli anyway:

"We have a simulation program that uses PlayStation technology and allows players to move the team around the pitch using a joystick. We can tell a player: 'We are going to press in 4-4-2' and the software shows us how that will work against our rival."

Apparently want-away Arsenal forward Alexis Sanchez put more hours in than most. It all sounds pretty silly, but whatever went on behind the scenes worked, as Chile won the final in a penalty shootout. That's the true power of PlayStation right there.

Messi's player rating in FIFA 18. Fair enough, really.

Messi versus everyone

While we're on Messi, the Barcelona great is so overpowered, Arsene Wenger once described him as a PlayStation player. In 2014, then Barcelona boss Luis Enrique said Messi did things in training "I have not even seen on the PlayStation".

"He does things in training that I have not even seen... on the PlayStation,' Enrique said with a dramatic pause.

Messi, the quintessential PlayStation footballer. What a legend.

David James versus Tomb Raider

This one's a classic. Back in the mid 90s, England and Liverpool goalkeeper suffered a dip in form that led some to label him "Calamity James". His response? Blame PlayStation.

Specifically, Tomb Raider and Tekken 2, which, James said, had been keeping him up all night - and it was that video game binge that led him to play terribly in a 4-3 victory over Newcastle in 1997.

"I was getting carried away playing Tekken II and Tomb Raider for hours on end," James said. Right mate.

Romelu Lukaku versus a PS3 controller

Romelu Lukaku is known for terrorising defenders, but back in October 2013 he terrorised a PlayStation pad. Why? Because he lost a game of FIFA.

While preparing to take on Aston Villa's defence while playing for Everton, the striker smashed up a PS3 pad after he lost at FIFA 14 to then teammate Kevin Mirallas. He posted a picture of the damaged goods on Instagram. Ouch.

Careful, Lukaku. Those PlayStation controllers cost, what, 30? That's like, 10 seconds of your time or something.

Arsenal versus Norwich

If ever there was a PlayStation goal scored, it was Jack Wilshere's strike against Norwich in 2013.

The goal involved wonderful one-touch passing that bamboozled the Norwich defense and culminated in a first-time caress into the back of the net by the once-full of potential Wilshere. It's a beautiful goal - one of that season's best, and Arsenal through and through.

After the match, Arsenal's German star Mesut Ozil praised his teammates:

"I've got to praise the three players involved for the first goal. It was real 'tiki-taka' - almost like they were playing PlayStation! It was an unbelievable goal."

Chelsea versus Amiga

This one doesn't have anything to do with PlayStation but as a Chelsea fan I had to include it. Back in the day, before Roman Abramovich's billions dragged Chelsea into the big time, before Autoglass and before Coors, we were sponsored by Amiga. Yep, that's right, the Commodore Amiga. The retro 1993/94 Umbro Chelsea shirt is one I still have hanging inside my wardrobe. And around that time I was playing video games on an Amiga, too. An Amiga 1200 in fact. Theme Park, The Secret of Monkey Island, that sort of thing.

Why have I brought this up? A couple of reasons. I wanted our younger readers (we have those, right?) to know that video games and football go back further than PlayStation, and I wanted an excuse to publish this picture of ex-Chelsea goalkeeper Dmitri Kharine, which is quite something.

Got any cool PlayStation meets real football stories? If so, let us know about them in the comments.