#andy looking like a hot woman in your nightmares

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Just One Sip: Chapter Three

Just One Sip: You take a job as a security guard at an old manor to pay off your crippling student debt. You did not expect to be guarding a mysterious man trapped in a glass cage or to fall under his starry eyes. You were going to break him out, but becoming his snack was not part of the plan.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Vampire Shit/BLOOD (What You Came For), Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Kissing in the Rain (Morpheus Makes it Hot, K?), You Get to Wander the Palace in a White Nightgown (Peak fanfic rt there), Filth, Two Fools in Love.

To Note: Vampire!Dream x Female!Reader, It’s a little dark but Reader doesn’t complain.

Word Count: ~10.1k

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This is half edited, I’ll take care of it later so enjoy!

You’d been wandering around the palace, a little aimless, when a woman had approached you, asking for help. Apparently a little girl was having a ball with a bunch of dreams and nightmares, but the woman that usually played the part of a princess, was needed elsewhere. The issue? The little girl really wanted a princess at her ball and would most likely burst into tears if one didn’t show up. A dream to a nightmare really. You were all for helping out, happy to have something to do if it meant that the little girl would be happy.

So with a quick wiggle of her fingers, the woman had transformed your simple jeans and shirt into a lavish dress fit for a princess. You felt like you had stepped into the world of Cinderella. Shimmering silver fabric wrapped around your body, tightening around your waist before billowing out in an enormous skirt. Lifting a hand, you ran your fingers over the unique neckline that was in the shape of butterfly wings, bejeweled with pearls and other crystal gems. Every inch of the dress sparkled with stars you really did feel like you had been plopped into a fairytale.

Feeling your shoes shift from flat soles to heels, you grabbed at the layered skirt and pulled it back to see your feet neatly tucked into a pair of silver heels that were just as shimmering silver as the dress. There was so much fabric, shimmering with every little movement, you were certain that you’d be the center of attention… you probably should have thought this through before saying yes.

“Oh, one last touch,” The woman spoke, peering at your face and hair. Another wiggle of her fingers and your hair was shifting to match the elegance of the strapless dress. Your hands reached up and brushed across your shoulders as you nervously looked around. Certainly you would look ridiculous in this outfit just wandering around the palace… at the very least, the enormous dress was practically weightless on you and you had no difficulty wearing it. The heels were another issue all together.

“I’ve never been good with wearing heels,” You worried, looking at the woman who then wiggled her fingers at herself and dressed herself in a dress fitting for a ball, but nowhere near as stunning as yours.

“You think the girls will care?” She countered.

“I look like I stepped off the set of Lily James’ Cinderella.” She snorted.

“This dress is so much better, it’s spun from stardust and stitched by the cosmos. Lily James could never pull off wearing pure starlight like you can.” Your hand was grabbed and she started pulling you through the palace. “Come, we’re late as it is.”

“You haven’t even told me your name!” You exclaimed.

“You can call me Andy,” She said as you both crossed a hallway and turned down a corridor that led to the great hall.

“Andy,” You repeated, trying to keep up with her hurried steps. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You both came to a stop in the grand hall and Andy turned to face you, taking both your hands in hers.

“You look tense,”

“I have no idea what I’m doing and have never worn anything like this.” You pointed out. “What’s not to be tense about?”

“They’re little girls, they’ll adore you.” Andy reassured you. You were about to remind her that looking like a princess and acting like one, was completely different, when Morpheus’ voice echoed in the large room and he appeared with several subjects following him.

“There are several other nightmares we need to discuss regarding the Corinthian’s relievement of duties…” Morpheus trailed off the moment he saw you standing in front of Andromeda. His entire being froze in place, his eyes taking the entirety of your beauty. Morpheus didn’t know what you were doing with Andromeda, but you were dressed in starlight and your precious skin was laid bare to tantalize him. Even across the grand hall he could already smell the bewitching scent of the heavenly blood coursing through your body, see the way you shifted in place with your muscles extending and contracting in obvious fluster… you were a sight to behold and erased all thoughts from the Endless, temporarily blocking the collective unconsciousness of the universe.

But as soon as your eyes connected with his, Andromeda was speaking to you and a shimmer of the Greek woman’s magic enshrouded you both. Then you were gone and the bright source of life and vitality disappeared from the grand hall.

“Sir?” A nightmare probed, having noticed that Morpheus’s attention had been drawn elsewhere.

“We shall continue this conversation at a later date, I have somewhere else I must be.” Morpheus told them, his voice touched with a hint of strain. Oh he was so hungry for you. Hungry not just for your precious vitality, but your light, your scent, your touch. Morpheus craved you like nothing he had in his entire being. So he followed you and Andromeda to the dream she had taken you to.

For a moment, you thought your ear drums had burst from the squeals of delight from the ten little girls all dressed up in gowns. When they had spotted you, they had been awestruck for but a few moments, then the happiest little shrieks erupted from their mouths and they swarmed you. Their faces had instantly dissipated your nervousness and you crouched down to their eye level with a big smile.

“Cinderella!” One of them exclaimed with a crooked smile, her eyes nearly glowing in delight. “I can’t believe you’re here!! Best. Birthday. EVER!!” You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm, very glad that you had said yes to Andy. It was worth seeing their smiles.

“Ooh, ooh, can you tell us all about Prince Charming?” Another one of the little girls begged. “I mean surely by now you know him well enough, you did marry him.” Shit. What were going to say? Just by their babbles you knew they were talking about Lily James and Richard Madden’s Cinderella… but you really didn’t know much about Kit in the movie. It wasn’t like there was an in-depth guide on the prince… granted he had more personality in the live action than the animated films.

“Oh,” You echoed, stalling and trying to come up with a way to appease them. Well, you suppose you could bull shit your way through it. No, children sometimes had a knack for seeing through lies. You’d tell them about your Prince Charming. If you had one that is… “Well, he is kind, though it might not seem like it because he is so focused on his duties. Being a Prince is a very important job.” The little girls nodded in agreement, fully engrossed with your words. “But if you are lucky enough to get to know him, you’ll learn how important family is to him, and I’m not talking about direct family, but friends as well.”

“My mom says that having good friends is really important.” You nodded in agreement.

“Very important, you can rely on friends for help you when you need it.” You said before continuing on with your description of your dream Prince Charming. Little did you know that while you spun a tale of your dream prince, you were describing a certain Endless, and that Endless was hanging on every word you spoke. He memorized those details, ingraining them to memory, becoming everything you wanted and dreamed of. When you were in the middle of telling a tale of how you and your Prince Charming had met, Morpheus changed his clothing to formal ones, dark as eternal night. Then he began stepping forwards, making his presence known.

The little girls surrounding you zeroed their eyes on him in a matter of moments and fresh squeals permeated the lavish ball room.

“It’s Prince Charming!!!” They cried out in excitement while you raised your eyes. Shock rippled through your body and you rose to your feet, clutching your hands to your silver stardust covered chest. It was one thing to be dressed like this in front of a bunch of princess loving girls, but Morpheus!? You felt embarrassed and self conscious of your body. So you stared at your glove covered hands and let the elated little girls fawn and squeal over the inhumanely beautiful Morpheus. Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you with a puzzled look on his face.

“They keep calling me ‘Prince Charming’… do you know why?” He quietly asked you as the little ones gathered in a group and looked at the pair of you standing together with wide eyes. If was like their fairytale had come true, for you and he were the picture of Prince and Cinderella.

“Just go with it,” You whispered back. “They think we are two Disney characters they love and I do not want to ruin this dream.”

“Very well,” Morpheus spoke, having no problem letting the dream progress with the little ones calling him ‘Prince Charming’. He had you in front of him, dressed beautifully and draped in stars. It was an indulgence to see you like this. “Will you tell me about this ‘Prince Charming’?”

You blinked at him, wondering how a being like him had no idea who Prince Charming was. Then you remember he’d been trapped for 106 years and inwardly chastised yourself for assuming he’d know about Disney.

“He’s from a children’s movie. Basically, a poorly treated woman, Cinderella, is forbidden from going to a ball by her stepmother. Her fairy godmother helps her out with a little bit of magic and she get’s to go to the ball.” You began explaining, picking at your glove covered fingers. “So she goes to the ball and meets the prince, Prince Charming, they dance, only the magic has a time limit that expires at midnight. The woman has to rush away from the ball because of it, leaving behind a shoe which the prince uses to find her again.”

“And these little girls think you are that Cinderella?” Morpheus asked for clarification, thinking over what you had told him. You nodded.

“And they think you are Prince Charming, I don’t want to ruin this for them, they’re so happy.” The hopeful look on your face was one that Morpheus refused to ruin, so he smiled (more like smirked), and offered his hand to you.

“Would you do me the honors, Cinderella?” You nearly blanched at him, your jaw threatening to drop open at how easy the Dream Lord fell into the role. The little girls, who had shuffled closer, looking between you two in reverence, gasped. Then they squealed.

“I don’t know how to dance!” You whispered shouted at him, panic filling your body. Morpheus could hear your heart speeding up in your chest. Could see the way fresh blood bloomed beneath your skin to perfume you with a heavenly scent. So delectable. So hungry. Morpheus’s fangs threatened to descend, your bare shoulders and neck enticing, all but calling for him to bury his face there. Sink his teeth into your flesh. Drink your sweet, sweet blood, warm liquid pouring down his throat. Ecstasy. “Morpheus.”

He blinked from his intimate thoughts and arched an eyebrow at you, finding delight in your wish to make this dream perfect for the little ones.

“This a dream, Y/N,” Morpheus reassured you. “All you have to do, is wish to dance.” You stood stiffly for a few moments more, the little girls on the edge of excitement. It wasn’t as if you didn’t wonder what it would like to be swept around on the dance floor by a prince, by Morpheus. So you raised your gloved fingers and took his offered hands. The little girls all squealed with glee and Morpheus, putting on a show of a life time, led you to the center of the ballroom. You swallowed thickly, worrying about tripping or making a fool of yourself in front of both Morpheus and the little ones. The morbid embarrassment you would feel…

And yet… Morpheus’ eyes, staring deep into yours, captured your entire mind and stole all thoughts of unease and insecurity. Your body seemed to know what it was doing the moment music began playing from somewhere, and your feet began moving in time with Morpheus’.

“I’ve never danced with someone before,” You absentmindedly spoke while Morpheus effortlessly twirled you around the dance floor. He smirked, pleased to know that he could have one of your firsts. He’d have all of them in time.

“I am honored to have that privilege.” He told you, spinning you in a circle. You were surprised that your feet effortlessly pulled off the maneuver, not tripping over the skirts swilling about your legs in a shimmering silver storm. Around and around you went, almost floating across the beautiful tiled floor. The Dream Lord twirled you around, effortlessly lifted you off your feet, and held you against his chest with the gentleness of a lover. Gods you were falling all that harder for the being.

Morpheus wasn’t that far off from your feelings, indulging in the closeness of your body, enraptured by your stunning beauty that was only enhancedby the stardust and cosmos wrapped around your stellar body. Andromeda had done a wonderful job dressing you up as a fairytale princess, because you truly looked like royalty. And your skin. The neckline of your dress left much to be desired for Morpheus was tantalized by the perfume of your blood. The flush that bloomed just beneath your skin spread your divine blood all across your body. It was like you had doused yourself in an aphrodisiac. Your smell was already making him loose his inhibitions.

So when your dance finally ended, Morpheus was glad that the little ones had disappeared, falling into a deeper dreamless sleep that left you all to himself. Pulling back your hands from his, you stared at your covered fingers with a slight frown.

“Is something wrong?” Morpheus questioned, intending to eliminate anything that took away your bright smile and adoring gaze. You looked back up at the impeccably dressed Endless, and once again admired how incredible Morpheus looked dressed as a prince. Even if it was a dark one.

“My hands,” You spoke up, raising your sweating fingers. “I never realized how hot gloves might get when dancing, I can only imagine what it was like for the woman who wore these for hours.” Morpheus shifted his hands and began tugging the glove from your left hand. You let him, watching as he carefully pulled them free of your arm and hand. The soft fabric melted to shimmering dust that floated upwards and disappeared. He pulled the remaining glove from your hand and settled his eyes on yours once more.

“Those women were accustomed to such dealings, it was normal life for them.” Morpheus gently spoke, his eyes trailing along the curves of your face. “Would you care for another dance?” Your face warmed once more, and unbeknownst to you, that only made more of the sweet scent of your blood perfume your skin. Morpheus shivered in delight, his throat aching to be parched by the sweet nectar pulsing within your body.

“If you have time, I know you are busy.” You shyly answered, not wanting to hog Morpheus’ precious time.

“I will always have time for you,” Morpheus reassured you before taking your hand in his and gripping your waist once more. This time he chose a slower song for the orchestra to play, wanting to savor and enjoy every millisecond he had of you dressed in starlight and within his arms.

“Do you? I mean, Lucienne explained to me what it is that you do and that seems like a very important job.” You said, finding yourself all that much closer to the Endless. Your bodies were practically touching now. Morpheus could feel the softness he craved, only just barely hidden from him by billowing layers of silver cosmos. And your scent. Oh how you made his hunger burn in the back of his throat. One hundred and six years was nothing compared to how you made him hunger. Almost like the forbidden fruit, for Morpheus knew that if he had one more sip, he would never let you leave.

Perhaps it was cruel of you to remain in his palace, teasing, taunting him with your ambrosial smell that echoed the divine blood that ran through your veins… and yet Morpheus would find himself once again despondent if you ever left. You were such a beautiful life residing within his dark halls.

“Am I not doing my duty?” Morpheus countered with a smirk. “I am overseeing a dream, ensuring that Andromeda is doing her duty as intended.”

“That sounds rehearsed,” You rebutted. “And like an excuse. The Dreaming is impeccably run and everyone does their job very well. You don’t need to oversee anything.”

“Then perhaps I simply wished to indulge in the honor of dancing with you when your beauty shines brighter than Sirius.” Your mind went blank and so did your ability to dance. You tripped, your legs in a tangle, and let out a yelp. Good god, you were going down hard. But rather than ungracefully falling to the floor in a jumble of limbs and fabric, Morpheus plucked your falling body and stepped in a half circle, using your falling momentum to pull you right back to your feet. Only he didn’t just make sure you didn’t fall. You didn’t know if he meant to or not, but Morpheus’s strength sent you crashing right into his chest.

Letting out a small grunt as you collided with his black covered figure, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder, hooked around his neck to stabilize yourself. Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your chest at this point.

“Oh my god,” You wheezed, clutching Morpheus’s hand which you still held, and pulling your face away from where it had almost smashed against his shoulder.

“My apologies for distracting you,” Morpheus’ voice floated into your ear in close proximity and with barely a shift of your head, your eyes met his. He had the subtlest of smirks on his lips (because he definitely knew he was the cause of your tripping and was entirely unapologetic as it had landed you within his arms) and his eyes were a mix of silver and black, no hint of their usual blue storm. You really needed to figure out what each color meant.

“Don’t apologize, I’m just clumsy,” You replied faintly, every inch of your skin feeling hot from his proximity. You almost wanted to get closer to him, his coolness soothing the flames dancing along your flesh. Morpheus was drunk off your scent, the sweetness of your blood no longer subtly perfuming your skin but ensnaring all of his senses to that he was under your spell. Your heart rate was coaxing him to you, fast and rhythmic, pushing your ambrosial blood through your body in a manner that repeatedly called to Morpheus. Starving. He was starving. Had been since indulging on the blood straight from your vein. None of his usual sources had been desirable or palatable to the dream lord since his return. Only you.

“You’re far from clumsy, Y/N,” Morpheus murmured, maintaining his arm around your waist while bringing his hand up to trace the curve of your jaw. “I have encountered many royalty and fairness within my existence and yet none of them compare to your astral beauty.” As he spoke, Morpheus allowed himself to sneak closer to your bared skin. Your cheeks almost brushed, no they did, and you shivered slightly as pearlescent skin cooled your inflamed one.

“Pretty sure you can thank Andy for that,” You meekly whispered. Morpheus chuckled at your deflection.

“Andromeda merely enhanced what you already have,” His lips brushed against your neck, against your pulse. Fluttering, fast, full of delectable life. You slowly exhaled, feeling the gentle brushes of midnight strands tickling your cheek. Did you really need to still be leaning into him? Probably not, but you weren’t inclined to move, not when it felt so nice to be in his arms. Not when the Endless had you enchanted like this. You bewitched each other. Morpheus’ lips rested over your pulse, his throat arching and teeth already sliding free. Oh to have just one more sip. His lips just barely parted, itching to sink into your flesh and finally sate the agony of hunger churning inside his being. The breath caught in your chest because you could feel the heat of his mouth. No. He promised himself that he would not do this to you, he had already disrespected you by taking without asking once before. He refused to harm you again for he knew that he might not be able to control himself.

So Morpheus promptly detached himself from you, his inner being raging from the loss of your soft warmth, your ensnaring scent. He saw confusion bloom within your eyes, tinged with hurt, and put an end to the temptation.

“This dream is over,” He spoke, ending the fairytale just as quickly as it had started.

You were suddenly standing in a darkened grand hall, the silence of the large room almost deafening now. Your aching heart was in your throat and your eyes burned. Then Andromeda hurried up to you. You turned your eyes to her.

“What did I do wrong?” You whispered, trying not to cry because surely you had done something to anger Morpheus, to ruin the idyllic dream in which you felt so happy. You had felt like a princess, had danced like one, had been spun around, lifted off your feet… you’d danced like Cinderella and felt like her too. “Andy, what did I do wrong?”

The Grecian woman strode up to you and took your trembling hands, wishing she could placate you with an answer that would bring back your lovely smile. But she couldn’t, because nothing she could say would explain Morpheus’s abrupt departure from the dream. Nor could she tell you of her lords intimate thirst for you. So she led you towards your rooms, determined to at least sooth your hurt and confusion.

She led you to your rooms, had you change out of the gorgeous stardust and cosmos dress, and take a soothing bath full of herbs and perfumed oils that would surely ease you. While you sat in the bath, there were cracks of thunder. Booming, echoing, almost shaking the marble of the palace. Eyes lifting to the beautiful skylight overhead the bath, you watched lighting illuminate pitch black clouds. A storm was building overhead, souring what had once been a gorgeous day.

“It looks like it is going to rain,” You softly commented. Andromeda, who was kneeling behind you and absentmindedly tending to your hair by hand, rather than by magic, hummed in agreement. Oh yes it was going to rain, perhaps better described as a storm. A violent one. The Grecian woman knew not what her lord was despondent over this time. You most likely. But why? Had you and he not had a nice time dancing within the dream? You’d been the picture of perfection upon the dance floor, footsteps in time with endless grace and beauty. No one could quite predict what Morpheus’ mood would be like when he was in love. Would he fall into a state of depression this time? Crushed once more from a lost love? Andromeda didn’t know for you were a mortal living within the Dreaming. Would you spurn Morpheus’ love for you? Or would you be accepting of his true nature?

“Yes it seems so,” Andromeda echoed quietly. Whatever might come from Morpheus’s infatuation with you, it had to be your decision on how you would proceed once you learned the truth. And you would, for you were a persistent mortal. Eventually you would worm the truth out of someone, if you didn’t already have your own suspicions. “I am sure the storm shall pass, my lady, for they always do given enough time.” You spent the rest of your bath staring up at the tumultuous clouds, wondering what was causing such unpleasant weather.

Your skin was pruning by the time you decided to pull yourself from the cold waters. You dried yourself and changed into one of the fancy yet incredibly comfortable white nightgowns Morpheus had supplied to you. Fixing your hair for the night, you slipped into your lavish bed and snuggled yourself into the blankets. Surely a good nights sleep would alleviate your unease.

Rather than peaceful dreams which you had been used to since arriving in the Dreaming, you were tormented by nightmares. The nightmares of course, didn’t torment you, but the dreams you had were still unsettling and made you feel restless. After yet another nightmare talking to you instead of doing their proper duty, you woke up and stared at the canopy of your bed. Shimmering fabric glimmered overhead, highlighted by flashes of lightning that seemed relentless, fluttered and swayed.

Wind was wailing outside the palace, screeching and beating down on the Dreaming with the might of the fiercest hurricane. Punishing even. Sighing to yourself as rain drowned out your thoughts, you pulled your bedcovers aside and got up. Restlessness had settled in your body and you doubted that you’d get any more sleep, so you were simply going to walk the halls until sleep finally came back. Departing your rooms, you wandered down empty halls while the storm outside continued to batter the realm. No lights were needed as you walked the halls, the flashes of lightning illuminating every surface of the palace.

Your wandering felt aimless, and you had perhaps walked halfway across the palace to new halls before you became aware of your surroundings. You didn’t recognize where you were.

“Well this is a bother,” You sighed to yourself, looking around and wondering where the hell you were. You weren’t bothered by the fact that you had no idea where you were, but by the fact that you could have sworn you’d seen all there was to see in the palace. Apparently not. So you poked around and took your time to marvel at statues and works of artwork. Trailing your fingers across a statue of a very beautiful woman, you were admiring her facial structure when a bright flash of lighting revealed a shadow of a person behind you. Turning in place, you glanced out the wall of windows to see a balcony and someone standing out in the storm. “What in the— who would stand out in that mess?” You questioned, moving to the window for a closer look.

Making it to the window, you peered out and squinted through the torrential rain…

“Morpheus!!?” You gasped, your eyes wide in shock. What was he doing outside in weather like that!? The dream lord was standing outside on the balcony, allowing the full force of the rain and gale pelt his body. Wondering what he was doing, you searched the hallway for the nearest door, and ventured out into the storm.

Rain pelted your body, soaking your white nightgown and quickly plastering it to your skin. You held a hand up to stop the harsh rain from hitting your eyes and approached the brooding endless, having no idea that it was him causing the torrential downpour and thunderous skies. Shivering from the cold, you came to a stop next to Morpheus and looked up at him in confusion.

“Morpheus?” You questioned, hoping that you were speaking loud enough so that the Endless could hear you. He did and turned to look at you in surprise. His eyes were black and shimmering, not to mention ringed with red. You hugged yourself, disliking the way the pelting rain made your skin sting.

“You should not be out in the rain.” The despondent Endless told you, not wishing for you to be out in such an environment. Certainly with the way your hair and nightgown stuck to your skin.

“You’re out in the rain,” You pointed out. Of course he was, he was punishing himself for hurting you and wallowing in self pity from knowing that he could not have you in the way that he wished.

“This is where I wish to be,” He told you, standing stiffly next to your body. Even with the torrential rain washing over your skin your scent still permeated his senses. It certainly didn’t help that he was envious of each and every drop of water that trickled across your skin. Your nightgown was soaked and almost sheer against your lush flesh, giving a sneak peek of all that Morpheus wished to adore. It only grew worse when you stepped closer and tilted your head to look at him, baring your neck to his intimate desires once more.

“Why are you punishing yourself?” You softly asked, worry etched upon your lovely features.  “In this kind of weather? What is wrong, Morpheus? What did I do?” You further questioned, thinking back to how he had ended the idyllic dream so quickly. Morpheus forced his gaze away from yours and turned back to stare gloomily out over his realm.

“I have gravely hurt you, Y/N,” Morpheus replied, his pain rich within his voice. “I have hurt and wronged you in a way that I shall never forgive myself for.” You were confused, having no idea what he was speaking of and with no memory of him ever hurting you.

“I don’t understand,” You whispered, your eyebrows drawing together. Morpheus refused to look at you, feeling as if he had no right to gaze upon you. A Night and Time sent woman who had saved him from his confines. You reached to tug on his coat. “Morpheus, what is there to forgive?” Your fingers slipped down his star lined coat as you began retracting your hand, feeling like you were not making any progress getting through to the Endless… but then Morpheus’s fingers sought out your retreating ones. He grasped your hand and slowly brought it up to reveal your palm. The same one you had sliced open.

“Have you so easily forgotten what I’ve done?” Morpheus questioned with a strained voice, keeping your palm exposed in a point. He still wouldn’t look at you, but you knew what he was talking about. Your neck tingled in reminder. Teeth sinking into your neck, blood slipping down your neck to your collarbone… sounds of relief, pleasure, desire. Right, Morpheus had vampire tendencies and had a snack upon being released… why was he so bothered by that? “I have wronged you, hurt you, and refused to allow myself to do so again.”

What? Is that why he was trying to keep you at arms length? That every time you got close he suddenly drew back? Because he was afraid of hurting you? Pressing your lips together, you raised your hand and slipped your fingers to his face, gently forcing him to turn his head and look at you. The Endless looked so tormented and upset, and that greatly upset you. So you gave him your boldest statement to date.

“What if I gave you my permission,” You told him, slowly drawing your fingers along Morpheus’s sculpted cheek. Staring determinately into the eyes of the Endless, you stood in the pelting rain and shivered from the cold. You wouldn’t leave until you had an answer. Morpheus stared down at you, his entire being a mash of conflicting emotions and urges. His throat was dry, his insatiable thirst momentarily at bay, and stared down at you. Slowly, painfully slowly, his face drew closer to yours. You leaned closer, feeling sheltered from the harsh rain and blustering winds.

Your heart was beating rapidly and your shivers getting more pronounced the longer you stood in the rain… but all you could focus on was the inhumanely beautiful being in front of you. You thought that maybe you wouldn’t get an answer from Morpheus this night, or any time soon for that matter… just tension, silence, and the sound of the hellacious storm.

“Is that enough or shall you still keep your distance from me?” You faintly asked, still insistent on getting an answer from him. Morpheus would have you beg no longer, closing the minuscule gap between your faces. His first kiss was soft and gentle, long. His lips pressed against your own with a touch of starlight. Enchanting and hypnotic, hot and cold. You felt like you were frozen in place for a moment, only able to stand there while the being that had you wrapped up in his spell, kissed you.

But then you finally managed to kiss back, and the sweet and delicate kisses turned shorter, quicker, more urgent and almost even desperate. Those thoughts were fleeting as Morpheus slipped an arm around your waist and pulled your shivering body flush against his. Star-sculpted lips pursued your own desperately, despite the rain constantly running down your faces and trying to break you apart.

It wasn’t long before he had you gasping for air in between kisses, wanting more but still needing to breathe. Kiss after kiss, each one more intense than the previous, the Endless’s hunger only became more and more apparent. To kiss your lips was better than he had ever dreamed about. You weren’t that far off either, having been drawn into a daze just from his taste.

Morpheus brushed his hand over your cheek and dug his fingers into your wet hair, pushing your mouth closer to his while flicking his tongue along your lip. More, he wanted more. Not just to kiss you. He wanted to drink in your taste, indulge his tongue, feed on your soft sounds. A small moan slipped from your lips and the Endless devoured it greedily, feeding off the precious sound as he so intimately desired. It was almost as delicious as your blood. Your own fingers found midnight strands and wound themselves around them as the Dream Lord moved in a half circle, effortlessly lifting you off your feet. The bitter cold and pelting rain disappeared as warmth surrounded you, followed by low light.

Opening your eyes, you wanted to look around to see where Morpheus had moved you, but the moment your eyes connected with Morpheus’, you couldn’t tear them away. He was looking at you with those starry pitch black eyes, but you could see the want and desire within them. Oh how he wanted you, and not just for the blood running through your veins, but he wanted to taste your flesh, adore your skin, lavish your body in all the ways he’d imagined while locked in his cage. He wanted to love you, adore you, worship you in a way that was sure to indicate his true ardor for you. You would know of his reverence, surely. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your blood began rushing across your chilled skin.

You drew your fingers from his hair to his jaw, captivated by his beauty and numb to the chill in your body. You stroked his jaw, traced his lips with your fingertips while marveling at his sheer perfection, then appreciated how snowy and marble like his skin was.

“You’re so beautiful,” You whispered in awe. Morpheus’ eyes glowed with cosmic embers and he leaned in once more, your noses brushing. Resting your fingers lightly where jaw met neck, you looked at the Endless being with a pleading look in your eyes. “Let me love you, please.” You whispered your plea, trying not to shiver as your soaked nightgown cooled, only adding to your chilled state. He would have you beg no further, twisting his head so he could claim your lips once more.

While the Endless pursued your lips and taste, his long fingers met at the center of your soaked back and his fingers pulled outward. The satin material of your night gown disintegrated beneath his pull and you felt the top loosen around your shoulders. Morpheus’ fingers pressed into your bare skin while he kissed you deeper, tangling his tongue with yours. Your bare skin beneath his fingers was cold and damp and the Endless disliked that greatly. So he tore at the fabric of your nightgown, stripping the soaked material from your body until you were shivering in front of him, naked and entirely beautiful.

Your noses brushed when Morpheus’ lips departed yours, and for a few moments you mourned the loss of warmth, but then his deep starry gaze connected with yours. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around your waist, Morpheus drew the fingers of his other up your side. He took a moment to appreciate the pure majesty and delicateness of your being. Precious, pure… all his. Fingers trickled along your flesh, lips brushed against your own, it was debatable who was under whose spell, for you both were spellbound.

“I crave you,” Morpheus softly rumbled words flittered across your lips and you brushed your fingers through his obsidian locks once more.

“I’m here,” You replied, eyes searching his. His eyes, they glowed silver when his powers expressed themselves. Blue was his normal color, bright and intense… But black, black meant hunger, and you knew that he was starving. The fingers you had resting against his neck crept up to dance across his cheek. “I’m here and you can have as much as you want.” Rather than reply to your affirming words, welcoming words, Morpheus gently lifted you into his arms and carried you to a lavish bed fit for a being such as you. Gently placed upon sheets that felt like satin, you let your thumb brush over his lips while the vampiric being stared at you with the intensity of a supernova. Hunger. Desire. Want. Need. Desperation. You pulled his lips back to yours, desperately wishing for that wonderful floating feeling within your body once more.

Morpheus hungrily responded to your demand, nipping and tugging at your lips until you were softly panting and moaning beneath him. You could feel sharp teeth scrape over your lips, the being hovering over you just barely holding back his monstrous side. But he couldn’t hold back when his teeth caught the edge of your lip and small trickle of blood was smeared across your mouth. Morpheus pulled your lips closer, dragging his tongue across the smeared crimson and shuddering as your exquisite taste once again filled him with euphoria. Your lips parted with a soft moan as Morpheus’ mouth wandered, the being having licked every smear of blood from your lips.

He let his lips follow the curve of your jaw to the soft flesh beneath, and then to the place where your pulse fluttered at an increased pace. Every bit of your body was blooming with reaction, tantalizing and beckoning to be lavished, and you couldn’t help but squirm against soft sheets when cool fingers carved paths up your bare frame. Morpheus ran his fingers across your stomach to your ribs, taking in every bit of your beauty as he went. With every bit of your skin exposed, Morpheus found himself running his teeth along the places where your veins ran, taking the time to kiss your skin with ticklish teases.

“I have dreamed about touching you, caressing your skin, taking you far from that place which treated you with so little respect,” Morpheus husked against your skin, his teeth playing a dangerous game of teetering between scraping and cutting your skin. The wicked sharpness of the points made you shiver and tremble. You felt like you might beg to feel that wonderful feeling that came with Morpheus sinking his teeth into your flesh and whimpered, tugging on his hair and dragging a hand down his neck. “I have dreamed of nothing but you since I first caught your scent.”

“What do I smell like?” You questioned, suddenly self conscious about yourself. A silly notion, you were already naked beneath him. He made it clear that your scent was like drug to him. Morpheus nipped at the curve of your breast, a tinge of black creeping into his vibrant blue eyes as he lifted them to yours.

“Sweet,” Morpheus’ tone was low, dulcet, drawing out inner stirrings of desire that already nipped at every corner of your body. It was almost unbearable. “Your scent winds its way into my senses like the first signs of spring flowers. Fresh and teasing.” He moved his lips to your navel, marveling at the softness of your body. It was as if you descended from the goddess Aphrodite herself, plump and soft, naturally beautiful. “But then once it truly ensnares me, it locks me within its grasp. Twists my mind up in an agonizing temptation that pulls on every bit of will power I possess.” Morpheus drew from your touch, moving his hands to your hips where he drew your left leg up and tilted his head to press his face into your thigh. “And when I think I can’t get anymore wrapped up in your spell, you rip away all other primal desires until all that I can want… is you.”

This time Morpheus made a point to drag his teeth along the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, feeling the lovely hum of your blood rushing from the veins that lay just beneath your skin. It was torturous. Fast paced. Lush and thick. Hot. Full of life. Morpheus could help himself and nipped your inner thigh, only drawing the barest hints of blood from your skin to taste the nectar that filled your veins. You gasped and scratched at his hair, feeling only a kiss of pain before his mouth sucked on your skin and tongue flicked across the little puncture wounds. Your face warmed the moment your ears caught the soft sounds rumbling from Morpheus’ chest. God, it sounded like even a drop of your blood tortured the Endless with divinity.

“I fear the only one that shall ever sate my thirst is you.” The Endless admitted, nuzzling your thigh further and kissing the oozing bite. You ought to be scared from that statement. Fearful that you would be the only one who Morpheus would ever want to feed from, for surely that might put you on the brink of life and death. What if he took too much? What if he accidentally killed you because he was so hungry? Those thoughts didn’t scare you. You liked that he wanted you just as much as you him, and not just for your blood. No being spoke as poetic about your scent, your body, and not appreciate your being as a whole.

“I— I want to be yours,” You told him, working up the courage to say what you had been wishing the past few weeks. “There is nothing more in my life that I want than to be yours and for you to be mine.”

“And you shall, for I refuse all others,” Morpheus promised, the dark beast within him clawing at the seams of his mortal form to have you. Morpheus returned his lips to the little bite mark he had made on your thigh and he licked it, making sure that it was bleeding no longer before dragging his tongue along your skin to your hip. A beautiful moan touched by a breathless gasp departed your lips the moment his mouth drew close to your cunt. Oh, you had never had a mouth that close to your intimate flesh, and just his proximity made you want to squeeze your thighs together as electricity sparked from deep within your cunt. But the moment Morpheus sensed your muscles contracting and moving, he was placing his hands on your silken skin and forcing them to stay apart.

Morpheus started out slowly, gently, eager to taste more of you but wishing to treat you with the reverence of a thousand queens. His lips planted kisses along your hip, inching closer and closer to your throbbing flesh. Teasing. You wanted to squirm and push his head right where you wanted his mouth, your cunt. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried. So you were resigned to breathe heavily, chest rising and falling in anticipation while the blood rushing through your body only swelled and perfumed your flesh further. The Endless effortlessly draped your leg over his shoulder and slipped his hand around your thigh to your ass, closing the gap between his mouth and your flesh.

Your first gasp was one of surprise. Ragged and breathless. The second, drowned out by a whine as Morpheus snaked his tongue through your folds and around your clit. You couldn’t help but try and wriggle your hips within his grasp, face on fire and fingernails clenching around the bedsheet. You were already wiggling around? Oh Morpheus was in for a treatif you were already reacting this beautifully… and he’d only just begun. He held your hip in a tighter grasp, one that would imprint his mark upon your body for eternity, and let loose the desire for you, through his tongue.

Morpheus carved a blazing trail across your flesh, igniting every nerve ending his devlishish tongue touched. He teased you menacingly, feeding the burning need that had consumed him for weeks. Only a pane of glass separating you from him. What exquisite torture. It was not enough to have you within his realm, his palace, his need surpassed your physical presence. The Endless had desired your flesh, your blood, your soul. Morpheus wanted it all…

You cried out sharply when your darkened lover’s lips found your most intimate flesh and sucked… and oh how glorious that sound was. Hand finding its way into midnight strands, you clenched your fingers and scratched at Morpheus’ scalp. You clawed at him, dug your other hand into soft bedding until you were fisting it, and writhed. Your hips thrashed, protesting the boundaries that Morpheus’ grip has set. Your shoulders arched and waned, and your leg kicked out while the hell of the one he had over his shoulder pressed into his back. You were feeling everything at once and it was overwhelming. Gasping on another whimper turned cry, your fingers harshly tugged on Morpheus’s hair. The endless felt the pull, the sharp tug on his hair that prickled across his scalp in sweet ecstasy. Your reactions were everything to him. Sweet. Inviting. Fueling. And your taste. The taste of your intimate flesh almost rivaled that of the divine blood rushing through your body. Growling softly, Morpheus raked his tongue over your clit once more, feeling the pronounced shudders within your body and the desperation in his own.

He wanted to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. Drink your vitality. Sate the ravaging hunger that seared in the back of his throat in an endless reminder.

It took everything Morpheus had to hold himself back from sinking his incisors into your thigh the moment you came undone beneath his ministrations. Head thrown back, you shook violently as what felt like molten pleasure rocketed through your veins. For a few moments your body had a mind of its own, muscles clenching and limbs jerking, you were along for the ride. So while you were writhing in pleasurable agony, Morpheus lapped up your liquid pleasure in an effort to distract himself from his burning hunger. It wasn’t hard, for you did taste exquisite and your pleasure was so beautiful and satisfying. But that hunger was getting so hard to ignore now that he had you stretched out and naked.

Your body finally relinquished control back to you and your limbs flopped to the bed as you moaned softly, wondering how one person could cause such ecstasy. While you continued to moan and pull yourself together once more, Morpheus licked at the remnants of your orgasm before slowly kissing his way up your hip. Your fingers curled briefly within his hair and you forced your eyes open to look down at the inhumanely beautiful creature currently kissing your body like it was the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was. You were.

“Morpheus,” His name came from your lips in a sweet whisper, but to the Endless it was like a crescendo. He shuddered and purred, ingraining the way you spoke his intimate name to memory. When he reached your breasts, he nuzzled your soft flesh and slid his hands up to your sides. His physical touch was almost like tortureto you. “Morpheus,”

“Have patience, beloved,” Morpheus purred, eyes glowing silver while his clothes began melting away from his body. You whined in frustration when his cool skin met your inflamed one and twisted beneath him, still feeling electricity along your skin. It was nearly impossible to stay still. Kissing his way along your throat, Morpheus couldn’t help but drag his teeth over your pulse. No, he would always taste that temping flesh if his mouth was near, no matter what the circumstance was. But you were getting impatient. So you dug your fingers into his soft hair and dragged his mouth away from your neck to put them where you wanted them: on yours.

The moment you had his lips pressing against yours, you pressed upwards, sliding your tongue across his lips while a rumbling chuckle came from Morpheus. You didn’t care that your own taste was on his lips, you just wanted every bit of him you could get, and you did. Morpheus raised a hand to grip your neck, fingers cradling your jaw while his teeth nipped at your sensitive lips and his tongue tangled with yours. You felt light headed, kissing him so deeply, so passionately, with such concentration that your forwent breathing just to kiss his lips… but even as you sucked greedy breaths for air, panted heavily, and felt a slight burn in your chest, you still didn’t stop. Morpheus could feel the way you were pushing your body to the limits, chasing after your want, your need. You wanted him almost as bad as he wanted you. He took pleasure in knowing that, great pleasure. Breaking the ravenous lip lock, Morpheus stroked your jaw while your noses brushed and you shuddered. You were his. He was yours. Mine. Mine. Mine.

So while his lips dove back to yours, the hand Morpheus still held on your side rapidly slipped down to your thigh and hiked your leg up against his waist. You raggedly gasped into his mouth the moment your soaked and pulsating cunt met his stiff cock. Morpheus devoured that beautiful sound you made. Even when your gasp morphed into a moan, the Endless continually pursued your mouth. To you it was almost overwhelming, Morpheus kissing you so deeply and him pulling your cunt against his cock. You raked your nails along his back, the muscles of your inner walls clenching aroundnothing… much to your disappointment. Whimpering against his mouth, you felt like you were going to combust into stardust when Morpheus rocked his hips into your throbbing flesh.

It was pure torture.

Feeling his cock rut against your damp flesh, push through your folds to glide ever so easily over your clit. Having the little sparks of pleasure that were always just short of true satisfaction burst along your inflamed skin. And the way he could twist your tongue with his… Your mouths broke apart and you sucked in oxygen while Morpheus gazed into your eyes. His own were a cosmic mix of blue and silver, shifting like pools sand. You went to beg him to do more than just tease you, but before you could utter even a single syllable, his cock was finally siding into your body.

You couldn’t help the little noise of surprise that caught in the back of your throat, nor the ever so soft whimper brought on by the slight sting of your walls. Nails clinging to whatever they could purchase, you trembled and shuddered beneath Morpheus while he buried his face in your neck and tried not to viciously rut into you because your body felt so damn good. Between the tantalizing blood rushing beneath your skin and the way your walls squeezed his cock, Morpheus had to force himself to take a few moments to collect himself when his hips pressed against yours. You yourself were nearly overwhelmed, torn between trying to wriggle and worm yourself free of the sting, and wanting to fulfill your intimate desire for the Endless being. But then Morpheus’ lips pressed against your neck and you could feel his breath on your skin, and that made a lightning bolt of electricity run straight through your body.

Entire body jerking in surprise, your proceeding gasp morphed into a moan when your movement made Morpheus’ cock push against spots within your cunt that made pleasure burn. Oh, oh my. Now you understood why your college friends were obsessed with their boyfriends. Your fingers clawed at one of his shoulders as you shifted in place and tried to replicate that wonderful feeling. Morpheus put and end to that immediately, body dropping against yours and sand slithering along your skin to keep you from moving about. Hand on your jaw, he forced you to stay still while his black eyes rose to meet yours.

“Don’t be greedy, Beloved, for my patience and will power hangs by a mere thread,” He softly warned. Clearly patience wasn’t your strong suit… he could play with that later, but not now. “I do not wish to accidentally hurt you.” Your thighs trembled against his and you slumped in place, ceasing your struggles against the Endless forces holding you still. God, could this being get anymore desirable?

“I’m not trying to be, I’ve just wanted you for so long.” Morpheus brushed a few tuffs of hair away from your face.

“And you will,” He reassured you, eliminating the small space between your lips to brush his against yours. “For eternity.” That made your breath hitch in your throat and your heart skip a beat. Seeing the blood rushing beneath your skin, perfuming it, Morpheus smirked and kissed you again. You could have sworn that you tasted starlight, or even dreams themselves as the Dream Lord kissed you. It was like getting lost in a sea of dreams, its gentle waves brushing against your skin and caressing your body.

But as lost as you felt in the soothing and bewitching lulls, nothing compared to the feeling of Morpheus’ inhumanly beautiful body brushing against yours as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forwards. A low moan departed your lips, sweet and dripping with a melodic quality that made the Endless tremble above you. And so you fell into a molten mess of pleasure beneath Morpheus, your hands barely clinging to him. His own hungrily worked over your body, brushing tantalizing curves, squeezing them, imprinting his touch upon your body.

Hand wrapping around your thigh, Morpheus hiked your hip up against his and pressed deeper into your body. Another whimper bubbled up from your throat. Surely it was a mix a of pleasure and discomfort that held you in its intimate grasp, snaking tendrils of addicting ecstasy around your mind until it had you within its grasp. You were nearly choking on it. Head turning to the side, your eyes caught starry black ones while your face pressed against Morpheus’. When his hips crashed into yours and sparked a crescendo of lighting through your body your lips parted with a cry, and he took that invitation.

Morpheus’ lips took yours by storm, his tongue seeking out yours while he swallowed your beautiful cry and endeavored to draw more from your. It was all so beautiful. Your lush body beneath his, so soft and warm. Your dizzying and desirous scent that bewitched his mind and ensnared his thirst. Your cunt squeezing ever so tightly around his throbbing cock while he repeatedly thrust into you. Never before was there a more beautiful sight before him. Even as you panted against his rabid kisses, struggling to breathe beneath his tongue and cock, the Endless still sought more.

Perhaps it was his way of distracting himself from the thick and delicious vitality thrumming just beneath the skin of your neck, so close to his mouth. Or perhaps it was finding out that your physical bodily pleasure was just as divine as your blood. Morpheus wanted you so terribly that he would reign hellfire upon anyone who dared to think to lead you from his side.

Your mouth broke free from his as you rasped for air and bucked your hips into the ones repeatedly crashing into yours. Shifting the leg Morpheus held firmly against his side, you dug your heel into his lower back and clung harder. What sweet and blissful ecstasy you felt, and yet, hew was still holding back. What more did you have to do to drag the entirety of this gorgeous being out? Tears hit your shoulder and you buried your free hand into his hair, tugging on the strands.

“Do it,” You rasped in between heavy pants. “Do it, I know you want to, I know you need to,” You pressed, nearly at the point of shoving his mouth against your neck until he took what you new he has thirsted over for so long. “Please stop starving yourself!” You practically begged. No, you did beg, for you would do so until he stopped starving himself and took what he wanted. You wanted him. He wanted you. Why didn’t he see that? Saline nipped at your eyelashes as emotions clashed with physical pleasure and you began to shake. “Morpheus, Morpheus please,”

 The Endless had the goddess of temptation naked and beneath him, and begging. No matter how much control he had over himself, Morpheus could no longer hold back his insatiable hunger for you. Lips paring, his incisors descended just as his mouth sealed over the place on your neck and sang ever so sweetly to him. A pained squeak followed by a whimper erupted from you the moment teeth broke flesh, and Morpheus moaned as your hot lifeblood filled his mouth. The pain you felt from his bite was ever so brief, lasting but a mere millisecond before unadulterated pleasure took over and heightened what you were already feeling.

Choking on your neck breath of oxygen, a wheeze passed your lips when pleasure filled ever nook and cranny your body had. Your cunt clamped down around Morpheus’ cock, holding him deep within your body. Rippling and forcing you to experience the most intense feeling of ecstasy you had ever felt, you were trapped within your own body and unable to do anything as your mind spun. You were oblivious to Morpheus’ own ecstasy and orgasm, the sounds he made as he drank your precious blood. Oblivious to his seed which filled your body in a territorial claim. Oblivious to the fact that after this night? You would never be leaving the Dreaming. But you didn’t care for in that moment, you felt you were exactly where you both wanted, and needed, to be.

A shudder went through your body as it fell lax and your limbs flopped to the soft silken sheets beneath you. Your mind still felt like it was floating and your body still basked in pleasure when Morpheus forced himself to stop drinking from your precious vitality, smearing your ruby blood along his lips and chin. He licked the wounds on your neck closed before lifting his head to urgently look at your face. To ensure the you were well.

You had a dazed look in your eyes, and your body trembled beneath him. Warmth seeping from the space where your were still connected. You didn’t react to the blood on his face, your blood, neither did you react to the ache in your neck. Fresh and staining. No, you were only focused on how beautifully gorgeous this Endless being was above you. You raised a hand and placed in on the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours for a kiss. The metallic tang of your blood upon his lips don’t bother you as you licked it away and kissed him deeper. You finally had what you wanted and it was addictingly sweet. Pleasurable.

Morpheus brought his own hand to your jaw, cradling your face as he drank sweetness from your lips and basked in the visceral pleasure that ricocheted within his being. Perfect. You were so perfect. And his. All his. One hundred years of captivity was nothing compared to an eternity of you by his side. After all, just one sip, was never going to be enough.

Date Published: 6/13/23

Last Edit: 6/13/23

Previous | Masterlist

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #dream the endless x reader #lord morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #dream the endless #morpheus #the sandman

[anitabyars]

Mr. Wicked by Marni Mann is now live!

An alpha billionaire dedicated to no-strings pleasure. A woman committed to changing his wicked mind. Together they ignite a steaming-hot romance by the USA Today bestselling author of Mr. Hook-up.

Grayson Tanner has had better days. Coming off the successful international launch of

Hooked, the hook-up app he cofounded with his two best friends, and a night with one of the sexiest women he’s ever met, he’s now in a PR nightmare. A video of him has gone viral—a toast to the indulgence of bachelorhood. It’s a bad look for the creator of the app’s marriage arm. As memberships plummet amid a media firestorm, his PR firm has a new narrative to quell the flames: Grayson has to get married. Fast.

Hello, Jovana Winters—social media influencer and Grayson’s former one-night stand. The one-night stand he has yet to move on from mentally. Their immediate connection is undeniable. In front of the camera, they’re charismatic and passionate, and social media is calling them the It couple. But off camera, Grayson doesn’t trust women or believe in commitment.

Jovana is the opposite, a believer in love who knows what she wants. Now she’s on a mission to turn this fake marriage into the real deal, even though she’s hiding the biggest secret of them all.

But with a man like Mr. Wicked, it won’t come easy.

Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited

https://geni.us/MrWicked

Audio Narrated by: Andi Arndt & Ryan West

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3ukrNmv

Meet Marni

USA Today best-selling author Marni Mann knew she was going to be a writer since

middle school. While other girls her age were daydreaming about teenage pop stars, Marni was fantasizing about penning her first novel. She crafts sexy, titillating stories

that weave together her love of darkness, mystery, passion, and human emotions. A New Englander at heart, she now lives with her husband in Sarasota, Florida. When she’s not nose deep in her laptop, working on her next novel, she’s scouring for chocolate, sipping wine, traveling, boating, or devouring fabulous books. Want to get in touch?

Connect with Marni

Facebook: http://bit.ly/MarniMannFB

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1597153177180837/ Instagram: http://bit.ly/MarniMannIG

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/MarniMannPin

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IsSRWC

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/MarniMannBB

Website: http://marnismann.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5400988.Marni_Mann Verve Romance: https://ververomance.com/app/marnimann

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@marnimann

Sign up for her newsletter: http://marnismann.com/newsletter/

My Review

5⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This is one story that had me falling hard and fast for the dirty mouthed, sexy as sin, wicked hot, single, playboy, billionaire, extraordinaire Grayson Tanner. Who is all about the one and done approach to dating! No relationships for him. He is one of the inventors of “Hooked” an online dating app that promises to match you up with your perfect partner…depending of course what you are looking for.

Grayson is a man who doesn’t believe in commitments or marriage. So when he sees a sexy, beautiful waitress named Jovana, he goes after what he wants and that is her, in his bed, one night only. Never expecting to see her again. But when Jovana is the one leaving, earlier than he planned, with her middle fingers in the air. Grayson is left feeling and denying…the chemistry and the passion that had been between them.

But when a video goes viral of Grayson toasting to bachelorhood with six single ladies, he becomes a PR nightmare as his dating app tanks. So to correct the problem his partners and PR company force him to solve the problem he created. Grayson will need to change his narrative. He will need to find love and get married and that had him coming right back to Jovana.

This is Grayson Tanner and Jovana Winter’s story and I couldn’t get enough of these two!

Can Jovana be a wife in a fake marriage to Grayson for a year? She wanted him. She was deeply, attracted to him. And she was falling more and more every time she was with him. But can she change a man who didn’t want or believe in them? You will need to read to find out!

Mr. Wicked had it all, witty banter, immediate attraction, heat, chemistry and a powerful alpha man being brought to his knees by an equally powerful female. It had me smiling, my heart racing, and a thousand butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I swooned so hard for these two and fell hopelessly in love cheering them on! I can’t wait for the next book in this series!!

I received an early copy and this is my honest review.

#marni mann #MrWicked #newrelease #netgalley #valentine pr #alpha hero #fake marriage #billionaire #bad boy/good girl

[aspenmissing]

𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚍 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Dean, Sam and Theo are sitting in the parked Impala. Dean is eating something in a foil wrapper, Theo is drinking something hot, due to the small amount of steam coming from the cup and Sam studies a small stack of papers. Dean throws the foil wrapper into the back, onto Theo who pushes it off to the side.

"Ugh. You know, one day I'd love to just sit down and eat something I didn't have to microwave at a minimart"

"Do you even know how to use a microwave" Theo says, sarcastically.

"What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean, why would Andy waste him?"

"If it is Andy" Dean says.

"Dude, enough"

"What?"

"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math"

"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all"

"Oh, but he has it in him to steal your car and smash my face against the dashboard" Theo mutters, taking another sip of her drink.

"Well, how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards defending him?"

"'Cause you're not right about this"

"About Andy?" Andy appears suddenly at Sam's open window, slamming his hands down and leaning in.

"Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?" The last sentence reverberates strangely; Dean looks stunned, whereas Theo looks pissed.

"Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw-"

"Tell the truth!" Andy's voice echoes.

"That's what he's-" Sam says but is cut off by Dean.

"We hunt demons"

"Dude!" Theo says.

"What?" Andy asks.

"Dean"

"Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother and Theo, my sister.

"Dean, shut up!" Sam shouts.

"I'm trying. He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right"

"Okay, you know what" Andy voice suddenly changes to demonic "Just leave me alone"

"Okay" Dean says.

"All right?" Andy walks away. Dean cringes, holding their head, as Sam gets out of the car, following Andy.

"What are you doing? Look, I, I said leave me alone" Andy's voice changes again "All right? Get out of here, just start driving and never stop"

"Doesn't seem to work on my, Andy"

"What?"

"You can make people do things, can't you? You can tell them what to think" Dean and Theo had gotten out of the car; Sam holds up a hand, warning them not to come closer.

"Look, tha-" Andy laughs "that's crazy"

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, and then you got better at controlling it"

"How do you know all this?"

"Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me"

"You know what? Just, just, just, just get out of here" Once again Andy's voice changes, all right?!"

"Why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?"

"What?" Sam gets a vision- flash of fire, and a hand holding a gas pump. He cringes. The vision continues in pieces as he tries to focus on Andy.

"Why did you kill him?"

I didn't" Sam cringes again as the vision hits with full force. Minutes later, Sam with hands on his head, starts to fall; Dean and Theo runs over to catch him and lowers him gently to the asphalt.

"Sam? What is it?" Theo asks.

"Look, I didn't do anything to him" Andy says, crouching down.

"A woman. A woman burned alive"

"What else'd you get?" Dean asks.

"A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself"

"What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is-"

"Shut up!" Dean says to Andy.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell"

"When?" Theo asks.

"I don't know" Theo helps Sam up "But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch he can't hurt her"

"I didn't hurt anybody"

"Yeah, not yet" A fire engine roars past, sirens blaring. They turn to watch it "Go" Sam says to Dean and Theo. The two runs off to follow the sirens; Andy tries to step past Sam, who stops him with a hand on his chest "No, not you. You're staying here with me"

==

At the Gas station, the firemen are putting out the fire; Theo calls Sam on her cell and puts it on speaker.

"Hey, it's us. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said"

"When?"

"Like minutes before we got here. I mean the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start" Dean says.

"I don't know, all right? I can't control them; I don't even know what the hell is going on"

"Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it, it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this"

"That doesn't make any sense"

"What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else I can find" Theo says and hands up.

==

Sam and Andy sit across from each other on an abandoned truck.

"So, you get these premonitions of people about to die?" Sam nods "That's impossible" Sam laughs.

"A lot of people would say the same thing about what you do"

"But...death visions"

"Yeah"

"Dude, that sucks. I mean, like, when I got my mind thing? It was like a gift, you know, it was, it was like I won the Lotto"

"But you still live in a van. I don't get it, I mean, you could...have anything you ever wanted"

"I mean, I, I got everything I need" Andy says.

"So, you're really not a killer, huh?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Andy says laughing.

"That's good. Means there's hope for both of us"

"Man, I'm sorry for, uh, hurting your sister"

"She'll get over it, she tends to not keep a grudge. Last time she did it was because Dean ate her pancakes" The two laugh.

"Is your sister, um, is she like us. You know the mind thing"

"No? Why do you say?"

"It's just back when I took the car and Theo, she, um, she wasn't effected by my power, but Dean was. Could she maybe be like us?" Sam looks down to think. Then Dean and Theo pulls up in the Impala, and Sam and Andy stand. The twins get out of the car.

"Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single"

"Who is she?" Sam asks Andy.

"Never heard of her"

"Called Ash on the way over; he came up with a little something. Apparently, Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy" Theo says.

"Andy, were you adopted?" Sam asks.

"Well, yeah"

"You were? And you neglected to mention that?"

"Never really came up. I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby- do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m-"

"I don't know. We tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the country office" Dean says.

"Well, screw that"

==

As Dean, Sam and Theo go through boxes of files, Andy walks an elderly security guard to the door.

"Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here"

"No, it'll all be fine. All right? Just go get a cup of coffee" as the guard leaves, he continues in a dramatic voice "These aren't the 'droids you're looking for" Dean grins as he overhears.

"Awesome"

"I got it" Sam says.

"Yeah?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. Andy, it's true. Holly Becket was your birth mother" Dean and Theo looks to Andy.

"Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?"

"Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them"

"Yeah, but, I, didn't kill them"

"We believe you" Theo says.

"Yeah" Dean nods in agreement.

"But uh, who did?"

"I think I got a pretty good guess. Holly Becket gave birth to twins" Later Andy sits with both hands on his head, staring straight ahead in shock. Theo is sat by him, rubbing his back. Dean is standing by a printer nearby; Sam is pacing with a folder from upstate.

"I have an evil twin"

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate" Sam saying walking over to the two.

"And, how you doin'? Still with us?" Dean asks. And puts his hands down and Theo drops her hand onto her knee.

"Um. What was my brother's name?"

"Here. Um, Ansem Weems. And he's got a local address"

"He-he lives here?"

"Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now" Dean pulls some papers out of the printer and looks at in surprise. Sam and Theo look at, also surprised and shocked. "Hate to kick you while you're freaked. Take a look at that" Dean shows one of the pictures to Andy, who looks up in shock.

==

The coffee shop is nearly empty; Weber and Tracy are closing up.

"Hey, Trace?"

"Yeah?"

"You and Andy, you guys went together for a while, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Weber, why?" Tracy asks.

"I don't know, I was just wondering. I, I was wondering how you felt about him these days. I mean, I've seen you guys together, it seems like there's still something there. Just... were you guys ever, like, serious?"

"Um, no"

"Come on, Trace" Weber's voice suddenly changes to a demonic voice "Tell the truth"

*Time Skip*

Dean drives the Impala down a dark road with Sam next to him and Andy in the back seat, Y/N next to him.

"All right, Andy. Tell us everything you know about this guy" Sam says.

"Well, I mean, not much. I... Weber shows up one day, eight months ago? Acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kinda weird, like, trying too hard, you know?" Sam starts cringing, rubbing his eyes.

"Must have known you guys were twins. Why did he change his name? Why not just tell you the truth?" Theo asks.

"No idea"

"Aah!" Sam shouts.

"Sam?" Sam starts having another vision.

==

Tracy, wearing only satin lingerie, walks slowly to the side of a ravine. Crying, she climbs onto the ledge and looks around. She pauses, looking back, then leaps.

==

Sam yells in panic, struggling with the door.

"Sam? Sam! Sam!"

"Sammy!" Dean stops the car as Sam shoves the door open, leaning out. Dean and Theo gets out the car, Dean comes around and they both kneel beside him, Dean grabs his shoulders.

"Hey. Hey!"

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Theo asks, concerned.

==

Weber drives onto the bridge and pulls to a stop; Tracy is in the passenger's seat. He runs a hand slowly up her thigh.

"I take my ladies here. They like it. Well, I mean, I like it, so...of course they do too" Tracy is crying.

"Please, I just wanna go home"

"Stop crying" Weber says in his demon voice. She stops crying "Hey. I get it. I see what you see in Andy, I mean, he's a genius. Books he reads? He's gonna be a great man someday. But he is my family, not yours. You can't have him. You're not gonna have anything after tonight"

==

Near the bridge, the Impala pulls to a stop. Sam, Dean and Theo get out and circle around the trunk, which Dean opens.

"Dean, Theo, you two should stay back" Sam says.

"No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day" Sam pulls out two shotguns and Theo pulls out a pair of binoculars; as he walks forward he's stopped by Andy, who has gotten out of the car.

"I'm coming with you" Sam looks, and shakes his head.

"Andy, no"

"If it's Tracy out there...then I'm coming"

==

Crying again, Tracy is unbuttoning her dress as Weber watches.

"Okay. Slower. Tracy? I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay? When we're done here, I want you to head over to the edge of the dam. Okay?"

"Okay"

"And when you get there, you're gonna think you can fly" His voice changes "And you're just gonna step right off. You-you can fly, can't you?" Weber puts his hands on her face. Tracy is still sobbing.

"Yeah. I think so"

"You might get scared, but I want you to say that it's okay" Tracy is sobbing "Just tell yourself, everything is okay" The window behind Weber's head shatters, and Sam shoves a handgun in his face.

"Get out of the car! Now!"

"You really don't want to do this" Sam backhands him, hard. On the other side of the car, Andy opens the door and pulls Tracy out.

"Tracy! Come here, come here, come here. It's okay"

"Andy! I can't! I couldn't control myself" Sam opens Weber's door and pulls him out of the car. He pins him facedown over the pavement with the gun aimed at his head.

"Don't move. Don't move!" Sam says as Andy runs over to them and shoves a strip of duct tape over Weber's mouth. He rears back and kicks Weber twice, furious. Sam pushes him back.

"No! No, Andy, let me handle this, all right?"

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"Andy! Listen to me! Listen to me!" Weber stares at Tracy, who picks up a large stick and hits Sam on the back of the neck with it. He goes down, unconscious. Andy turns to her as Weber stands up.

"Tracy, stop! I said STOP IT!" She drops the stick and backs away, terrified. Andy turns back to Weber, who pulls the duct tape off his mouth "How did you do that?"

"Practice, bro. If you'd just practice, you would know. Sometimes you don't need to use your words. If you have to," Weber taps Andy's forehead "all you need is this. Sometimes the headache's worth it" Andy grabs Weber.

"You're a twisted son of a bitch!"

"Back off, Andy. Or Tracy's gonna do a little flying" Andy turns in horror to see Tracy standing in the ledge "Aren't you, Trace?" Weber turns to Andy "I'm stronger than you. I can do it"

"Okay, okay" Andy backs away, hands up "Okay. All right, just...just please don't hurt her"

"Don't be mad at me, okay? I know, it's, it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen, it's just... Tracy? She's trying to come between us"

"You're insane" Andy says.

"She's garbage! Man, they all are! We can, we can push them, we can make them do whatever we want!"

"Are you really... are you really this stupid? Is it-?"

"Wha-"

"I mean, you, you learn you've got a twin..." Sam starts coming to ...you call him up, you go out for a drink, you don't start killing people!"

"I've wanted to tell you for so long, bro. But he didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time was..."

"Who?" Andy asks.

"The man with the yellow eyes"

"What are you talking about?"

"He came to me. In my dream. He said I was special. He told me he's got big plans for me. Wait 'till you see what's in store, Andy, for both of us! See, he's the one who told me that ... I had a brother. A twin" Somewhere in the woods, within shooting distance, Theo stalks to a hiding place with a sniper rifle, Dean next to her, watching with a pair of binoculars.

"Why did you kill our mother? Why? And why Dr. Jennings?"

"Because they split us up! They ruined our lives, Andy! We could have been together this whole time. Instead of alone. I couldn't, I couldn't let 'em do that, I couldn't let them get away with that. No" Theo crouches in the shadows and lines up the shot. Weber turns, hearing something. He peers into the distance, into Dean and Theo's hiding place.

"I see you. Bye-bye" Dean drops his binoculars and goes over to Theo, shoving her on the ground and takes the rifle.

"Dean? What are yo-" She is cut off by Dean striking her face with the butt of the gun. She falls onto her back. She looks up at him "Dean, snap out of it. He's in your mind!!"

"I can't stop" He once again strikes her face with the gun. She struggles to stand. Dean puts a foot on her stomach, stopping her from getting up. Theo watches in shock as Dean turns the rifle up and tucks the barrel under his chin.

"NO!" Tracy's head looks back as a gunshot goes off. Weber jerks back and falls; Andy has shot him in the back. Andy lowers the gun, shaking. Theo sighs in relief as Dean drops the gun, he looks at her with guilt, seeing her bruised cheek.

==

Rescue and police crews have arrived on the scene. Andy is talking to three police officers, his stance confident. Sam is crouching by a wall, a paramedic tending to his shoulder. Another paramedic is tending to Theo's face. Dean stands at their side.

"He shot himself. And you all saw it happen"

"Yeah. We did" Sam, Dean and Theo are together, observing.

"Look at him. He's getting better at it" Andy passes an ambulance where Tracy is sitting, a blanket around her shoulders. He smiles at her but she avoids his eyes. Andy approaches Sam, Dean and Theo.

"She won't even look at me"

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up" Theo says.

"No, it's, this is different. It's, uh, I never, I never used my mind thing on her before. Before last night. She's scared of me now"

"Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, just call me up"

"Wha- what am I supposed to do now?" Andy asks.

"You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back"

"Looks like I was right" Sam says as they walk away.

"About what?"

"Andy. He's a killer after all"

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life; he saved my life. And he saved Theo from a horrific sight" Dean says as Theo looks down.

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody"

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was just, he was pushed into that"

"Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death"

"What's your point, Sam?" Theo asks. The three-stop walking.

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. You know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us"

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it"

"You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am"

"That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count"

"What?"

"No. I'm, I'm calling do-over"

"What are you, seven?"

"Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it"

"Yeah, I guess" Sam says, doubtfully. Dean's cell rings. He picks up. Sam and Theo gets into the car.

"Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there"

==

Sam, Dean and Theo are sitting at the bar, Ellen behind it and Jo walking around the outside.

"Jo?" Ellen asks.

"Hmm?"

"Go pull up another case of beer"

"Mom..."

"Now. Please" As Jo leaves, Ellen leans on the bar in front of Sam and Dean.

"So, you uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?"

"No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing" Theo says, taking a sip of her beer.

"Not anymore" Ellen says dropping a stack of papers on the bar "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six-month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"

"Yeah, we thing so" Sam says.

"Sam..." Dean says.

"Why?"

"None of your business"

"You mind your tongue with me, boy This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here"

"There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um ... we all have some kind of ability"

"Ability?" Dean rolls his eyes, uncomfortable. Theo sighs.

"Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us" Ellen looks between the three.

"What kind of plans?"

"We don't really know for sure"

"These people out there, these psychics-they dangerous?"

"No. Not all of them" Dean says.

"But some are. Some are very dangerous"

"Okay, how many of them are we looking at?"

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday" Theo says.

"That's not true"

"What?"

"Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is-I looked at his file, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary"

"Which breaks pattern. So, if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down" Ellen says.

"And so, who knows how many of 'em are really out there?" Jo is standing behind.

"Jo honey?" Ellen asks.

"Yeah?"

"You'd better break out the whiskey instead" Sam and Dean looks to Theo.

"Now. What's with you, you weren't at all effected. But you’re not like me" Sam says. Theo looks up.

"And your point?"

"Well, how? How were you not effected by Andy or Webber?" Dean asks. Theo just shrugs.

"I don't know" Theo says, but her eyes show different.

"Well, whatever it was I'm glad. Because if you were affected by him then I can't tell what he would have made you do" Dean says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Don't be all sappy on me, Dean"

"I'm your twin brother, that's what I do" Dean says, pulling her into his side. Sam smiles at the two, but his eyes hold concern yet curiosity for his older sister.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #oc insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

[petrorabbit]

Let's Watch Batman: The Adam West One

Chronologically, the next movie is actually Batman Dracula (1964) by Andy Warhol, but unfortunately that is lost media. Instead, let’s move straight on to Batman: The Movie (1966), starring Adam West.

This is more something that I noticed during the serial, but a bunch of iconic stuff in the Adam West version is directly parodying the serials. Stuff like the fighting style and scaling the wall with grappling hooks is pretty definitely a direct reference. So, that’s nice context to have.

Something that I think is very funny about this movie is the huge emphasis on modes of transportation. We get the batmobile, the batcopter, the batboat, the batbike (I know those names are wrong, don't @ me) and then an extended sequence where Batman and Robin just run. Obviously this is because little boys love vehicles, but I still enjoyed it. I wonder how many of these things were sold as toys at the time?

The premise is that the Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler and Catwoman are all teaming up to dehydrate the UN security council and hold them for ransom. Notably, the Joker contributes absolutely nothing the whole movie. Everyone else is adding their little touch to the plan and Joker is literally just standing around giggling. 

Catwoman is the ringleader, and she also has an alter ego, a Russian reporter named Kitayna Ireyna Tatanya Kerenska Alisoff, who goes by Kitka, because it’s an acronym of her name. This really bothered me for no good reason, because Kitka could also just be a nickname for Kitayna. Like, why was the acronym thing necessary. I realize this doesn’t matter but it bothered me, okay.

At one point, Bruce goes on a date with Kitka for the purpose of luring out the rogues, who they think are after her. Since this is a sting operation, Dick and Alfred are watching from the car. Despite this, Bruce gets super horny and is absolutely going to bone down with Kitka even though he knows his father and son are watching him. Dick turns off the monitor because he doesn’t need that in his life, allowing Bruce to get kidnapped, but I can’t blame him for that one. Keep it in your pants, buddy.

This is another movie where Batman and Robin are working for the authorities. They very confidently announce that they are NOT vigilantes, they have deputized by the Gotham City Police Department! It’s lowkey kinda funny how different that line hits now. Can’t believe Batman and Robin are bootlickers. Well, Dick I can believe.

They also kill people in this movie! Not, like, super on purpose, but people die and they don’t care at all. This happened in the 1943 serial too. I guess it’s surprising to me because the Morality of Killing is such a hot topic in Batman now, but in this pre-Jason world, it straight up isn’t important. There’s this mildly horrifying sequence where a bunch of Penguin’s henchmen are dehydrated and brought back wrong, and they just explode on contact. Dead without even a body. This was one of two scenes that my dad informed me gave me nightmares as a child, the other being the one at the end where it is revealed that by mixing up the sand of the dehydrated UN security council, they all speak a different language now after being rehydrated. But what else did they lose? Their memories? Their souls? Chilling. Shout out to baby my dad for having an existential crisis about this.

I don’t know that I have much else to say about this one. Shark Repellent Batspray is still very funny. Burt Ward looked pretty good, imo, I feel like people are always dunking on him. Oh, apparently there was an old woman who lived with them in the show??? She has no lines but she’s there for a minute with Alfred. Who is this person. I’m not going to look it up because I don’t care, but there it is.

#batman 1966 #batramble #adam west

[mrsluthordanvers]

Everything’s Different

Kara returns from the phantom zone, and some relationships just aren't the same as she left them 

Read on AO3

Being sent to the Phantom Zone was Kara’s worst nightmare come true. It had chilled her to the bone. Left her teeth chattering and her muscles aching, even after weeks being back on Earth under the yellow sun. The emptiness had wrapped itself around her, suffocating her, making her lose her way as she stumbled through the darkness, making her lose her grasp on reality.

It haunted her at night. Every time she closed her eyes she was back there, fighting to get back home, fighting for her family. Every night she woke up gasping, feeling small and scared, the noises of the city ringing in her ears. It felt just like when she first arrived on Earth. 

The Phantom Zone was her worst nightmare come true, and yet; sitting outside Andrea’s office waiting to be reprimanded feels like a close second.

Not only does Kara not have the Cat Grant article Nia had promised in order to cover for her sudden disappearance. She has to watch Lena sit in one of Andrea’s chairs with her high heels tucked underneath so she can curl up comfortably. One hand lazily looped around a glass of amber liquid as she laughs.

After days of lying alone on a stainless-steel bed under a yellow sun lamp hoping to have a chance to talk to Lena. Praying to Rao for the opportunity to tell Lena her last secret, one she didn’t even know she had until she was navigating the phantom zone alone, grasping to thoughts of her loved ones to make it through. The sight of Lena laughing with another woman, her hand gently squeezing Andrea’s, makes Kara’s heart clench.

She wishes she could slip away. Duck out of CatCo and avoid this situation altogether. But Kara knows that Andrea has already seen her. Just like Cat, Andrea’s office is strategically placed to give her the best vantage point – and put on the best show.

But this is one show Kara would rather not witness.

Kara’s thoughts are spiralling so rapidly now, that she’s missed Lena putting on her heels and walking in her direction.

“Kara?” Lena looks just as surprised to see Kara, she halts in the doorway as Kara stands so abruptly that she has to scramble to keep her notebook from hitting the floor.

“I didn’t know Alex- “Lena quiets as she glances over her shoulder before she steps forward, letting the office door close against her back.

“How are you feeling?” Lena asks so quietly it makes Kara want to rush to comfort her.

“Good.” Kara immediately responds, without giving much thought to the truth of it. Lena’s head tilts in a way that says she knows that too.

“Better.” Kara adjusts, with a slight shrug and a touch to the corner of her glasses.

They stand in silence for a moment, neither one willing to make eye contact and unsure where to go from here.

“I should go-“

“Would you like to-“

Both laugh awkwardly as they finally look at each other.

“Go ahead.” Lena offers.

“I was going to ask if you would like to have lunch with me? If Andrea doesn’t fire me that is.”

“Oh.” Lena pauses as she looks over her shoulder again, arms folding in front of her. “I actually have lunch plans with Andrea today.”

“Oh.” Kara nods aggressively, “Of course, maybe tomorrow? Big Belly Burger?”

For a second Kara thinks Lena looks guilty but it’s gone in a flash.         

“Andrea and I– “

“Right.” Kara waves Lena off not wanting to hear the rest, doing her best to ignore how her stomach rolls and her jaw clenches.

Lena turns quickly to give Andrea a wave through the window before she steps around Kara in a cloud of expensive perfume. “I’m really sorry Kara, but I have to go.”

Lena’s gone before Kara can mumble out her understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kara steps inside Andrea’s office with a light knock.

“I’m not paying you to hide outside my office all day.” Andrea scolds as Kara steps inside. “Ms. Nal told me that you’ve been working on an article with Cat Grant?”

Kara opens her mouth, still unsure of what she’s going to say to get out of this predicament.

“Before you tell me another lie,” Kara tries not to squirm under Andrea’s gaze. “I’m not going to ask where you’ve been. You’re a popular writer amongst our subscribers so I’m not going to make the mistake of firing you... Yet. But you will have to make this up to me. So, for the next month you are taking over the How-To column for Andy. And I don’t want to hear complaints.”

Kara jerks her head understanding and tries to take her leave.

“Kara.” Andrea calls her attention back just as she’s about to push through the door. “Don’t even think about trying to ask Lena to change my mind.”

Kara’s phone breaks in her palm as she exits the office. grabbing her purse on route to the elevator.

“Where are you going?” Nia hisses after her.

“To find a story.”

---

Kara only catches glimpses of Lena at the tower after that. She sees more of Lena on the cover of tabloids at the grocery store than she does in person. Today it’s a red-carpet photo that stares at her across the packs of pop-tarts she has on the conveyor belt. Lena’s turned into Andrea as she looks at the camera over her shoulder. Andrea’s hand sits low on her hip as she looks in the opposite direction, her jawline on full display as she smirks at a different camera.

Kara barely notices when she reaches across to grab the magazine. She does her best not to tear the delicate pages as she rapidly flips through them until she finds another photo. She can feel the heat growing behind her eyes the longer she stares at it. Lena’s posed almost the exact same, but Andrea is leaning in this time to press a kiss to the corner of Lena’s mouth. It’s oddly intimate for a red-carpet photo and it makes Kara throw the magazine onto the conveyer belt next to a case of cookies just to stop looking at it.

---

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Kara practically throws the magazine on Lena’s coffee table in greeting as she walks in through the balcony doors.

“I’m sorry?” Lena blinks slowly as she looks from the superhero to the magazine that’s fallen open to the picture of her and Andrea.

“You and Andrea are pals now?”

Lena snorts as she untangles herself from the couch to put the kitchen island between them as she starts to make a pot of tea.

“What?”

Kara’s fist clenches as Lena shakes her head. “That might be the only time that has been used correctly by the press.”

Kara watches Lena with a blank face as she looks up from filling the kettle.

“Andrea and I are hardly friends.”

“Then what is it?” Kara asks exasperated, as she slowly approaches the kitchen island but doesn’t sit. “If it’s not Andrea, what is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Andrea’s been helping me.”

“With what?” Kara tries to keep the hurt out of her voice as she takes another step forward, watching Lena scoop some loose tea leaves into a pot and put a strainer over her mug.

“Lex.”

“Lex?” Now Kara’s confused. The tower has been trying to deal with Lex, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Andrea is helping me to take down Lex.”

“I don’t understand... I thought we were taking down Lex together.”

“Lex knows that you’re back from the phantom zone, and he knows I’ve been helping you. I just thought if it looked like I wasn’t helping you anymore he might let his guard down.”

“So, you’ve just been kissing Andrea instead?”

Lena sighs heavily as she pours hot water into the tea pot. “Kara…”

“No.” Kara crosses her arms, “You could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you!”

“I didn’t want you to help me!”

That makes Kara freeze. Her face contorting as she watches Lena snap at her.

“I thought we were over this.”

“It’s not about that.”

Kara doesn’t listen as she turns on her heel, trying not to put a foot through Lena’s floor as she marches to the balcony.

“I love you!”

Kara pauses, one hand on the glass door.

“I didn’t want your help because I love you. And I can’t keep losing you.”

“You love me?” Kara asks as she turns slowly.

“Against my better judgement.” Lena snarks, but it holds no heat as she lifts her chin that Kara can only laugh.

“Are you laughing at –“

“I love you too.” Kara blurts, refusing to let Lena get the wrong idea. “I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks.”

“Oh.” Lena nods to herself as she drops her gaze to pour her tea through the strainer. “That’s good.”

“Lena.” Kara whispers immediately appearing at Lena’s side as she wraps a hand around Lena’s slim wrist. “Look at me.”

Kara uses her other hand to reach for Lena’s chin, a finger gently hooking underneath to move her gaze. When pale blue-green eyes settle on her Kara smiles.

“I love you.” Kara repeats with all the earnestness she can muster. “And I’d really like to be the one to help you take down Lex.”

“Okay.” Lena replies in a hushed tone as she gives Kara a tiny nod.

“You won’t lose me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

#supergirl #supercorp #nemo writes #119 days since I last posted something to ao3 #this was a lovely request from a follower to add to green eyed monster #always love having fun with this series #hope you enjoy <3 #would love if y'all checked it out

[starlightstevie]

fics rec / march 2021

Hello again! Here are my favourite fics from the past month - I enjoyed reading these so MUCH and I hope you guys do too!

(* is smut)

Fuck it I’m recommending this again this month because Kait’s cowboy!Thor series is just THAT good and everyone needs this country boy in their life:

*I Need A Hero by @inthorantine​ Masterlist Cowboy!Thor: After Y/N finds out that her late grandfather has willed his rural Montana ranch to her, she decides it’s time for a little change of scenery. At least until it’s in a condition to sell. Along the way, Y/N finds a renewed appreciation for hard work, new friends, and possibly even love. She has the land. Can Thor help make it a home?

*saints can’t help me now by @peachyteabuck Forest god!Thor x reader: I will tell you the mystery of the woman and of the beast that carries her, whose name has not been written in the book of life from the foundation of the world. Kings give their power and authority to the beast, and those who are with him are the called and chosen and faithful.

and with that shadow upon the ground, i hear my people screaming out by @blackberrybucky Thor x reader: You're on the ship when Thanos comes aboard.

*Warm Water by @xbuchananbarnes Thor x reader: Reader takes a bath after a long day.

*h/c: dom!thor by @thorsthot​

Imagine: Thor smells like a storm by @wandas-sunshine​

*Somnus by @sweeterthanthis​ Nomad!Steve x reader: On the rare occasion that you have him in your bed, you savor every last minute. Even while he sleeps.

*Morning Wood by @angrythingstarlight​ Nomad!Steve x reader: Your new neighbor Steve gives you more than one surprise in the morning.

Good Kind of Trouble by @all1e23​ Biker!Stever x reader: Steve finally meets his cute neighbor. She’s not impressed.

*h/c: the way steve fucks by @helahades​

*Cock Worship by @ozarkthedog​ Andy Barber x reader: You take care of an exhausted Andy.

*illicit affair by @feliciahardyn​ Professor!Andy Barber x reader: You had been crushing on your sexy professor, Andy Barber since the beginning of the semester but he made it hard for you to focus in class. Lucky for you, he was willing to give you the best lesson in your life though.

if it’s not you, it’s not anyone by @blackberrybucky Bucky x reader: Bucky comes back from the snap and his world is shattered.

*West Coast Turnaround by @moteldwelling​ Trucker!Bucky x reader: Bucky Barnes is six foot of surliness driving his eighteen-wheeler across truck stop America. Reader just so happens to have a working thumb. There’s one bed.

Let Me Protect You by @littleredstarfish​ Bucky x reader: He's strong but he still needs protection.

deny (with love) my labor by @divine-mistake Bucky x reader: “I’m here,” you sob, hand shaking. “I’m right here, Bucky. I’m here. I’m here. Bucky, please. I’m here. Please don’t leave me. I’m here. I’m right here.” Or, five times Bucky Barnes has a nightmare, and one time you do.

The World’s A Little Blurry by @summergrls​ Masterlist Bucky x reader: Glimpses into a (mostly) quiet life with the Winter Soldier.

*Oasis by @bubblebucky Bucky x reader: It’s your first time with Bucky, and Bucky’s first time in 80 years.

call it fate, call it karma by @belladonnabarnes Bucky x reader: Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard.

*bucky convinces you to sit on his face by @bunnywritesmarvel

*Chaste by @tiffdawg​ Mando x reader: It’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.

*way down we go by @goldafterglow Mando x reader: Din is made of mismatched shards that you bind together - until you want to watch them fall apart.

*kneel at my alter by @filthybookworm Mando x reader: I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.

*I’m not gonna touch you until you beg by @mxsamwilson

*dripping by @cptnbvcks Javi x reader: Javi brings you something to take the edge off during one of colombia’s heatwaves

*What It Is You Do (To Me) by @filthybookworm​ Javi x reader: He’s never mentioned a vest before, is all you can think, mouth parting as your tongue drags across your lower lip in an unconscious expression of desire. What is it, you wonder, that makes it look so good?

*Dinner & Diatribes by mxsamwilson Oberyn Martell x black!reader: Oberyn catches your eye from across the room and holds your gaze. His deep eyes swallow you whole, burn straight through you like twin flames, and you’re falling into him once again. Helpless.

*one single thread of gold tied to you by @spacelabrathor​ Alpha!Deku x Omega!reader: Pro Hero Deku is a frequent visitor at your support lab and you're grateful for it. He's one of your high profile clients and his quirk is strong enough that he has to come for suit repairs near twice a month. It helps that he's one of the most bearable alphas you've ever met, affable and kind, and he never judges you for being a rare omega in the hero line of work. It also helps that he's painfully, absurdly hot. You're perhaps never more grateful for his nature than when the building housing your lab collapses with the two of you in it, and as the walls and floors of your lab crumble, so does the suppressor device that keeps your heats in check and your hormones under control. As the dust settles, you realize you are trapped by rubble and dust and twisted metal with perhaps the only alpha alive that you trust, as your adrenaline surges and your carefully suppressed heat cycle comes roaring to life.

baby mine, don’t you cry by @kaitsukibakugo​ Deku x reader: A quiet early morning moment between Reader and Deku and their newborn baby.

*you’re such a good girl for me by @rat-suki​

*dilf!Deku by @sems-diarie​

*more dilf!Deku by sems-diarie

*wreck my plans (that’s my man) by @spacelabrathor Bakugo x reader: You inform Bakugo that he's a control freak who can't cede control in any area of his life for any reason, and, because he's Bakugo, he immediately, furiously rises to the challenge.

*Thin Walls by @rat-suki Bakugo x reader: Katsuki’s loud, obnoxiously so. And you’re the one who has to deal with it.

*all through the night by @some-kindofgnome​ Bakugo x reader: You and Bakugo have chased a villain far out of the city- too far to make it back for the night. You find somewhere decent to bed down, but there’s a little problem with your room.

*imagine bakugo easing into you, no prep by @sems-diarie

Soon to be dad!Bakugo by @luciilferss​

Subtlety is my middle name by luciilferss

Pro hero Bakugo taking care of you by luciilferss

mean!Bakugo has a soft spot for you by @ihatebnha​

*Bakugo with a pillow princess girlfriend by @hanji-is-life​

*Dumb slut Bakugo by @ihatebnha

*villian!Bakugo takes you in an alleyway by @lookslikeleese​

*the folly of man by @dymphnasprose Todoroki x reader: Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.

*toshinori as a lover by @spacelabrathor​

at my worst by @hiiraya Wanda Maximoff x reader: Slow dancing in the kitchen with Wanda.

wanda + pianist au by @helahades

Fireman Sam by @buckysknifecollection Firefighter!Sam Wilson x reader: You visit the local police station and catch the eye of a certain firefighter.

*size kink with geralt by @lovely-cryptid​

*Heat by fettsvette Boba Fett x reader: Set after the second season of The Mandalorian. Boba Fett takes you on a faraway hunt that involves a prolonged journey through hyperspace. You’re horny as fuck, but your man is too preoccupied with running a tight ship to pay you any mind - until things get a little too desperate.

#masterlist #fic recs #fics rec #itssimplydior #thor x reader #thor smut #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #mando x reader #mandalorian smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #javier pena smut #javier x reader #oberyn martell x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bnha masterlist #bnha smut #boko no hero academia #deku x reader #deku smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

#nile freeman #nile's family #dorothy freeman #tog headcanons #tog meta #mine #long post

[watching-pictures-move]

Put On Your Raincoats #17 | The Erotic Reveries of Rinse Dream

Cafe Flesh opens with a title card orienting us to its post-apocalyptic setting. After a calamitous apocalyptic event known as the "Nuclear Kiss", the world is made up of 99% "Sex Negatives", and 1% "Sex Positives". The Sex Negatives can't have sex and can only watch. The Sex Positives escaped such a fate, but are instead forced to perform for an audience of Positives for their vicarious enjoyment. There are many such venues but the one we spend the movie in is the Cafe Flesh of the title, a nightclub where the decor and patronage evoke a cross between punk rock and retro-futurist aesthetics and a hint of Rat Pack era cool. A smarmy comedian in a white tuxedo introduces the sex acts, which are elaborately staged performances that play almost as genre parody with their tongue-in-cheek choreography (plenty of costumed grinding, as with a performer in a rat costume early on, and mimed thrusting, as with another performer in a pencil costume in a later scene) until the turn into the real thing with the requisite close-ups. Futuristic jazz reminiscent of Angelo Badalamenti's music plays over the proceedings.

This serves as the background to a story about a woman who may or may not secretly be a Positive (played by scream queen Michelle Bauer and, in certain scenes, a body double) and the impending arrival of a legendary Positive performer known for his virility (a towering, square-jawed Kevin James, introduced in black sunglasses and an oversized blue suit). We also get a sense of the tensions in this nightclub ecosystem, particularly between the heroine and her boyfriend, a new performer, the comedian, the owner (who puts the comedian in his place in one scene by having him cruelly recite "the rhyme"). (The comedian is played by Andy Nichols and the owner by Tantala Ray, both of whom played interview subjects in Gregory Dark's Devil in Miss Jones two-parter, which leads me to believe the latter was influenced by this movie, as Nichols in particular doesn't have many screen credits.)

This movie apparently was a bit of a success in the midnight movie circuit, and it's not hard to see why, based on the strength of the mise en scene and the performances. The cool, smoky backgrounds of the reaction shots provide a nice counterpoint to the avant garde looking performances and give the highly stylized setting a nice evocative quality. There's also a level of genre commentary here, as the story ultimately is about the heroine's agency over her pleasure and the roles sex performers are forced into by greater society, ultimately imprisoned by their own abilities. Truth be told I found the performances got a little less enjoyable when they got down to business with the penetration and whatnot (it gets harder to pull off inspired choreography when one of your appendages is stuck in another person, or vice versa), but I also think it's necessary for those themes to resonate.

Cafe Flesh was directed by Stephen Sayadian, credited as Rinse Dream, and he'd previously used that pseudonym on Nightdreams, for which he co-wrote the screenplay. (The director was Francis Delia, who went on to a career of directing mostly music videos and television, while the other writer was Jerry Stahl, known for his memoir Permanent Midnight, as well as writing for shows such as ALF and movies such as Bad Boys II.) This movie similarly concerns agency over female pleasure and is about two doctors (Andy Nichols and Jennifer West) conducting experiments on a mentally ill young woman by inducing erotic dreams and monitoring her brainwaves. There's a dream involving a giant, monstrous jack-in-the-box. There's one with a pair of cowgirls and something other than a gun stored in a holster, with the cowgirls spouting stilted dialogues in robotic monotones, a Sayadian trademark of sorts. Wall of Voodoo's cover of "Ring of Fire" plays over the action (I'm not sure if they paid for the rights, but Delia and Sayadian did direct videos for the band). There's one with a group of bedouins sharing a hookah and then her. There's a giallo-esque scene involving a masked assailant, but this happens after an aborted nightmare about a shrieking man with a hollow chest from his pants emerges a shrivelled up, monstrous baby. Did David Lynch jack off to this? I wouldn't rule it out, folks.

There's a scene where she blows an anthropomorphic box of Cream of Wheat, while a jaunty cover of "Old Man River" plays on the soundtrack and a man dressed as giant piece of toast dances and plays saxopohone. An IMDb user review cites this scene for its cutting racial commentary, but I found this tonally jarring with the rest of the movie. After this, there's a trip to hell where a demon and his minions subject her to such horrific tortures as prodding her with a giant claw and then an even more fearsome double-pronged contraption. The scientists argue over fears that they gave her too much stimulation. ("This woman's on the brink of an orgasm. Let her enjoy it. She doesn't need interruption from a man." "You call it orgasm. I call it breakdown.") The movie then makes way to its final set piece, involving fog, a background of blue sky and pillars and soft piano music. The cinematography in this scene is in stark contrast to the mostly shadowy, intimate imagery of the previous scenes, with the camera pulled up to admire both their bodies and the scene continuing for some time after the climax. It almost brings to mind a certain scene in Jerry Lewis' The Ladies Man that I found disarming in its stylistic and tonal break from the rest of the movie. Without revealing too much, the film's coda sets the record straight.

It probably doesn't say anything flattering about me that I found most of this pretty hot. The movie has a tinge of horror running through it, giving many of the sex scenes (especially the one in hell) a real tension, while the scientific framing device gives it a cold, calculating quality reminiscent of David Cronenberg. (Alas, this doesn't predate some of his most influential films, but for all we know, David Cronenberg jacked off to it as well.) A few of the character names (Mrs. Van Houten, Mrs. Chalmers) make me suspect that Matt Groening might have seen (and jacked off to) it as well. This is pure speculation on my part, but as far as I'm aware, none of them have denied it either. The movie's distinct tone is grounded in an impressive lead performance by Dorothy LeMay. I wasn't all too impressed with her work in Taboo II, but here I think she skillfully evokes the heroine's derangement and "erotic trauma", in the words of the scientists.

Sayadian and Stahl collaborated again for Dr. Caligari, a relatively mainstream effort that also found some success as a midnight movie. I say "relatively" because it's still pretty fucking weird. The movie positions itself as a loose sequel to Robert Wiene's classic The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, this time about the granddaughter of the original Caligari conducting illegal experiments in an insane asylum. From the earlier film it pulls a German expressionist influence, but combines it with a campy, MTV-inflected style to present the asylum as a warped funhouse. The dimensions of the architecture are distorted and full of odd angles, decorated in a mixture of pitch black and gaudy day-glo colours (lots of yellow and pink costumes). This is not a pornographic movie, yet it's hardly less obsessed with sex, as the villain's plan concerns the weaponization of female pleasure. There's also the occasional grotesque sexually-charged image to spice things up, like the sight of a woman with giant, phallic-shaped breasts. Some of the imagery also gives it potency as horror, like an oozing sore or a cake full of intestines. There's a lot of strange, stilted dialogue, as in this exchange:

"Describe your life in three words or less."

"Un-ending torment."

"Elaborate, please."

"Blankety blank blank."

"Thank you for being specific."

This is matched by the angular body language of the villain, played by Madeline Reynal in a deadpan yet very physical performance. This movie also brings into focus a voyeuristic theme, which was present in those earlier movies but didn't seem quite as confrontational in its presentation. A character utters, basically to the audience: "I know you're watching me. I feel your eyes like wet fingers touching me in special places." (This is a line of dialogue that appeared in the next few films I'll talk about.) Truth be told, I was a little exhausted by the sensory overload of Sayadian's style here, and in retrospect appreciate the way the sex scenes act as a counterpoint to his more aggressive tendencies in his more explicit films. But at the same time, this is full of memorable imagery and has a weirdly compelling lead performance. I don't know if there's much else quite like it (or at least operating at this force), so it gets a recommendation.

Sayadian followed up Nightdreams with a few shot-on-video sequels. I skipped Nightdreams 2 as I could only find it in a heavily degraded transfer, but I did make time for Nightdreams 3, which has a self contained story that's essentially a more explicit if relaxed version of Dr. Caligari, once again concerning a doctor conducting sinister experiments at an insane asylum. (This time her experiments mostly involve just fucking her patients and other staff.) There's more of the stilted dialogue, even closer to non sequiturs than they were in the earlier film, with the music by Double Vision providing an off-kilter soundscape to match the weirdness of the dialogue. (Highlights include "My pussy's like an erotic assassin" and "I happen to know she has a thing for longshoremen. Just mention On the Waterfront and she gets randy pants.") The video imagery quite frankly is pretty ugly, with the green carpet and purple drapes that decorate the set looking especially ungainly, yet Sayadian seems aware of this, as when he uses video's flattening effect to create a crude facsimile of a split diopter shot. The video collage style he adopts meshes uneasily with the plot, as if to call out its meaninglessness, giving the whole thing a slight MST3K vibe, especially as characters speak directly to the camera.

Some of these tendencies are honed to a more pleasing form in the two-part Party Doll A Go-Go!, where we spend time with a number of attractive, shapely women in bright coloured lingerie as they spout '60s-inspired dialogue at the viewer in between scenes of copulation. (Not all the dialogue is '60s-tinged, however: "They're overcome with retro wordplay...Us modern girls prefer synthetic future".) Like many pornographic films, this is a collection of loosely related sex scenes, but Sayadian's construction turns those genre requirements into parody, having his characters offer colour commentary (albeit channeled through his campy prose) on their own scenes and even getting interrupted by the stars of subsequent and preceding scenes. The number of quotable lines is even greater than those earlier films, and I admit I was scrambling to write down the choicest ones as there were so many. The best lines go to Jeanna Fine, who also has the huskiest voice and the most penetrating stare, so she was easily my favourite. I certainly was not unmoved when she insisted that she's "never run around buck naked and bubbling for man-winky" or "never wrapped[her] lips around a throbbing johnny". (She does not, however, deny having ever interacted with beef bologna.) Or when she asked the audience "Was I a bad girl?" (said three times in rapid succession) or if we've "ever seen a double orgasm on videotape?" (She adds "Watch, pornhound" and "Calling all porndogs, watch me work, uh-huh.") And I definitely wasn't unmoved when she demonstrated her talents on a dildo dangled in front of her (which she refers to as an "artificial man-thing", a "chubby rubber fella" and a "flying princeton"). No, definitely not unmoved.

There isn't much of plot here, except in the latter half when one of the girls can't stop "the wiggle" and needs to be rescued with an emergency injection of "boy jerky". Sayadian, once again bringing voyeuristic concerns into focus (the characters all talk to the camera), seems to be satirizing the very idea of porn having premises and certain their lazy execution. Even the production design is transparent in its chintz (the movie is shot entirely on the same set, with the bare minimum in alterations to the set dressing to make it look even slightly different), while the video images, which feature lots of Dutch angles, zooms and whip pans, match the campiness of the whole affair. This is probably a little long at a combined 2+ hours, but at the same time, it settles into a nice groove and is full of really attractive and reasonably charismatic actresses delivering amusing dialogue and indulging in "girl homo" (sometimes "big time girl homo") or getting "boy jerky". I don't have much interest in delving into '90s pornography and shot-on-video productions strain the dignity one can feel while trying to watch pornographic films as actual movies, but I'm not gonna pretend I didn't have a good time with this.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #rinse dream #stephen sayadian #francis delia #fx pope #cafe flesh #nightdreams #dr. caligari #nightdreams 3 #party doll a go-go!

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty

Hermione’s eyes widened at the feeling of the hand clamped over her face. 

At first, she’s absolutely terrified that they’ve come for her and someone’s muffling the screams she no longer knows if she’s capable of. 

For a second she thinks it could be Ron as he’s nearby and he’s silencing her to keep from giving them away to some evil outside the Burrow. 

However as her eyes adjust to the darkness, under the moon shining through Ron’s attic window, she makes out a pair of two familiar eyes. 

Ones she only saw in Malfoy Manor. 

Soft, misty eyes. A pair she doubted she’d ever see again. 

Slowly, she pulls her hand off Hermione’s mouth and presses a finger to her lips, indicating her to keep quiet. 

With a swish of an unfamiliar wand Hermione recognizes the movements of a silencing charm. 

Unknown to everyone but one Molly Weasley, is that a simple muffalito has no effect within the walls of Ron’s room. The matron was worried her son may succumb to the brunette's request of casting a silencing charm for the sake of everyone else after her screaming tonight. Even though it bothered no one in the house, Molly knew the girl well enough to know she thought of herself a burden. Not to mention, Mrs. Weasley is pretty sure Ron would do whatever she asked of him. 

“Hello dear.” She whispered as a precaution. 

“Ci-Cissy?” Hermione choked out, tears pooling in her eyes. 

And before she could register the pain of such an action, she’s flinging her arms around the older woman’s slender frame and squeezes her tightly. 

In turn, Narcissa finds herself crying quietly into the witch’s shoulder. 

Once gathering her bearings a bit she breaks the silence. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Narcissa says with a chuckle. 

Under her, she feels Hermione shake in what she thinks would be a laugh, had she not been in such a state. 

“Well I have something that belongs to you as well, you see-”

“Let go of her now!”

Instantly, the pair's eyes snapped to the occupant of the voice. 

Ron Weasley was towering over them, standing tall at a scary six foot four. His wand is drawn as deep raspy breaths escape him. Chest rising and falling at an intense rate. Hermione thinks she can see his knuckles whitening from the tight hold. 

At his words, Narcissa pulled away from Hermione and held her hands in surrender as the young girl shook her head vigorously. 

“Move away. Move.” He spat. 

“Look, I’m not here to-“

“I don’t care! Move!” He screamed. 

“R-Ron.” She cried. 

When his blue eyes found her, he swore she was looking at him almost longingly. He couldn’t help but scrunch his brow in confusion. 

“Please.” She mouthed. 

“I won’t let her touch you love. I won’t.” He promised with such ferocity no one would dare challenge it. 

“N-no!” She tried to exclaim. 

This made his hold on his wand falter a bit as he grew puzzled. 

It was Narcissa’s name she was groaning in her sleep. It was this woman, a Malfoy, who was causing her anguish. Probably the same haunting face that woke her in a fit of screams. 

“I don’t understand.” He said to Hermione, feeling stupid for it after the fact, knowing there was a threat standing in between him and her. And now said threat would see him as some bumbling idiot. 

Merlin he can’t fail again, he can’t. 

“I’m not here to hurt any of you. Least of all Hermione, never Hermione.” Narcissa spoke up, standing from the bed, hands still raised. 

“Shut up! Don’t say that, you hurt her! You’re a monster!” He doesn’t realize, but hot, wet tears are leaking out of his blue eyes. 

“Hurt her? You think I’d hurt her? I’m the one who got her out of there, how do you think my wand-” 

He let out a bitter laugh, “If you’re so helpful then why did it take four bloody months, eh?” He taunted. 

Narcissa was growing angry, more at herself then this boy, because in a lot of ways, he was right. It had taken her too long to get Hermione out. So much had happened to her in those four months and her pain could be cut in half had she acted faster. 

She stepped closer to speak, but in response, Ron lifted his wand to her nose. 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Hermione, disarm him so we can have a civil conversation.” Cissy says calmly, though her voice shakes. 

“No w-wand.” She squeaks. 

“No wand?” Narcissa says, eyeing Ron, who now looks nervous. “Is it because-” 

A sudden knock on the door brings everyone in the attic to a standstill. 

“Ronnie?” Molly Weasley’s voice broke from behind the wood door. 

Narcissa hurriedly tip-toed to the left of the door, looking to Ron’s conflicted eyes and bringing a finger to her lips. Next, his gaze found Hermione who seemed to be mouthing ‘please’ over and over, her eyes glossy under the moonlight. 

“Ronald open up or I’m coming in.” She said from the other side. 

Sparing one last glance at Hermione, he tucked his wand into his waistband and with a deep breath flung open the door and stepped into the hallway. Carefully he shut it behind him. 

“Is everything okay dear? I thought I heard voices.” 

He gulped, “Y-yeah.” He swallowed hoping to wet his dry throat, “Hermione she-uh, she had another nightmare.” 

“Oh no.” Molly began to push past him until he jumped in front of the door knob. 

“No!” He said a bit too harshly, “I just mean, I think she’s overwhelmed, you know? I think I can handle this Mum.” He said gently. 

And surprisingly, his mother doesn’t disagree like he expected her to. Instead, a proud smile struck her lips as her eyes softened considerably. 

“I’m so proud of you Ronnie.” She whispers, hands reaching out to cradle his face. “You’ve taken tremendous care of Hermione, you’re just so grown up I suppose. The way you are with her- I’m just beyond proud of you dear.” Molly says misty eyed. 

“Thanks Mum.” He says with red cheeks. 

Behind the door, Narcissa Malfoy is smiling. 

Mrs. Weasley squeezes him tightly before pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I’m downstairs if you need anything, okay? I love you Ronnie, Hermione too.” With that, she kisses his cheek and walks down the steps. 

He waits until he hears the faint sound of his parents door clicking close before pulling out his wand again and entering his bedroom. 

There he finds Narcissa standing in the middle of his orange room, her eyes looking like they're full of love with tears threatening to spill over. She looks like anything but a Malfoy, such a stark contrast from Bellatrix. Looking at her here he’s more reminded of Andromeda, a soft spoken soul full of love. All things he would never associate with the mother of the greatest git at Hogwarts and wife to a Death Eater. 

“Now I understand what Hermione was trying to tell me.” She whispered with a ghost of a smile on her lips. 

Momentarily his grip falters as he begins lowering his wand, but then he remembers. This is probably a part of her plan. Gain his trust then kick his legs out from under him while he’s weak and more importantly, go at Hermione while she’s weak. 

Still, he does want to know what she means… 

“Nevermind that! Tell me how you got here.” He demands. 

...

“The Burrow?” Andromeda questioned, “that’s… no! I can’t Molly and Arthur- no Cissy, I’m sorry.” She began pacing as she shook her head frantically. 

“Please Andi, I need to see Hermione.” She begged.

“Hermione? Hermione Granger?” She questioned, even more confused than she was before. 

“That’s right.” Narcissa nods confidently. 

“But why?” 

The younger of the two sighs. She nervously begins to wring her hands together as she paces the expanse of the room. 

Then something dawned on Andromeda, “Hold on, does Hermione Granger have your wand?”

The look on Cissy’s face says it all. 

“Narcissa what in the bloody hell is Hermione Granger doing with your wand? The girl is off at Hogwarts and the wards there- they’re impossible to get through!” She rants. 

“Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t been in touch with Nymphadora?”

“Dora? What’s she got to do with all of this?” Andromeda questioned, but the look on her sister's face told her that the answer was crucial to the story, so she carried on. “Her and Remus were supposed to spend New Year’s with Ted and I but she got sent off on an assignment. She said it was for the Auror’s and not The O-” She caught herself. 

Narcissa huffed with a roll of her eyes, “I know about The Order Andi, I’m not daft! Just carry on.” 

The brunette rolled her eyes in return. It was almost nice to bicker. It felt normal. It felt like it did so long ago. 

“Right so she said she had a case down in Cornwall. Some investigation, we owled of course, but she didn’t come back until February. Ted and I traveled to Amsterdam for our anniversary which is in late February, we were there for a few weeks. Dora is meant to come to dinner here within the week.”

“Alright.” Cissy nodded, “Alright that makes sense.” 

“Sense with what Cissy?” Andromeda asked impatiently. 

“Christmas night Hermione Granger was kidnapped from the Weasley’s home.”

The other woman grew pale, horror striking her features. 

“It was Bella. Bella took her back to my estate in Wiltshire.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, tone filled with nothing but shame. 

“Kidnapped? She’s just a child, Narcissa! Merlin- how long?” Andi asked, pinching the end of her nose. 

“Three, four months.” Andromeda had to strain her ears to even hear the response. 

“Months? This went on for months and you knew!” 

“I know okay? I tried- I swear, I tried to get her out.” Cissy promised with tears brimming her eyes. 

The brunette took a deep breath, calming considerably. “At least tell me she’s not there anymore. Tell me the girl is okay.” 

Narcissa wiped almost violently at her eyes and took a big sniff, “That’s why I’m here, I had nowhere else to go. They’re bound to figure it out eventually. Lucius is too caught up in himself to realize I was lying but Bella- if she doesn’t know yet, she will soon.” 

“Know what?” Her brown eyes were swimming for answers. 

“That I was the one who helped Hermione escape. That’s why she has my wand.”

Andromeda gasped. When Narcissa turned up at her door she was so overcome with a sense of familiarity and love she didn’t even spare a second to think what kind of trouble she may be in. Or the possibility that she was done with that life. With her awful husband and his awful beliefs. 

Could it be? 

“But why?” It’s all Andromeda could come up with. 

As she peered at her sister's weathered features, she saw tears running out of her blue eyes. 

“Because it was so wrong Andi.” Narcissa practically blubbered, succumbing to sobs. 

And like they were little girls again, Andromeda knew all Cissy needed right now was a hug from her big sister. 

She engulfed her slender frame and slowly began stroking her brunette-blonde hair. Telling her everything was alright and ensuring she did the right thing. 

After a few moments, Narcissa gathered her bearings. 

“You were right.” She choked, “I’ve known for years but part of me always held out some hope, Bella… she's gone.” Her voice cracked over the nickname. 

Andromeda just frowned, she accepted the fact during the first war, but she knew that part of Narcissa always thought that maybe somehow, someway, they could all become the family they once were. That they could all be sisters again. 

“She ordered them to do terrible- unspeakable things to a young girl.” Suddenly her features stiffened into that of anger, “And when she wasn’t laughing at those inhumane acts, she was firing curse after curse at Hermione. The cruciatus, she- she doesn’t even speak anymore.” 

Tears began leaking again out of both womens eyes. 

“I took care of her every night. I snuck her potions. I read to her. I fed her. I held her. I made sure her brain wouldn’t turn to mush. I even told Bella to stop.” She inhaled, “But none of it mattered. I took too long. They killed her parents! I should’ve got her out sooner, I’m just as bad as the rest of them, I’m-” Her words caught in her throat as she grew hysterical. 

Andromeda gripped her shoulders, “Stop.” She said a little forcefully, but Narcissa just continued to cry. “Cissy look at me.” She demanded. 

Thankfully, her sister stopped shaking momentarily to fulfill the request. 

“You never have and will never be a monster, okay? You did what was right in the end and that’s all that matters. Hermione isn’t there anymore.” 

Narcissa closed her eyes and began trembling under Andromeda’s hold. 

“Hey.” She called, causing her to open her eyes again, “you’re my sister. You always have been and you always will be. If I thought you were anything like Bella I wouldn’t have let you in. I know your heart is good.”

Slowly, Cissy nodded, calming a bit at the sentiment. 

“I love you.” Andi said. 

“I love you too.” Narcissa responded, “You’re my family and it's just-” she swallowed, “I’m so happy to be here with you but Hermione she- she’ll never have that again.” Cissy hoped the statement conveyed what she met as if she said more, she would’ve probably broken down again. 

“That’s why it’s so important I get you into The Burrow, huh?” Andromeda smiled. 

Cissy smiled back. 

Even after all this time, they still knew each other so well. 

...

“Tell me.” Ron Weasley demanded of her. 

Cissy shook her head. She was briefly lost in a daze remembering all the details of the past few days. 

“My sister, Andromeda, has access to the wards. She comes to have tea with your Mother a few times a week.” She like it was simple. 

Ron scrunched his brow, not connecting the dots. 

“We apparated outside of the wards so no one would hear. Andi and I performed some old blood spell we found in one of our mothers old books. Did it when we were younger, it connects you for a finite amount of time only works if you’re blood related. She stepped through the wards and I held onto her, we had no issues. I reckon she’s still crouching behind that old tree in your orchard.” She explained. 

“So your sister, she doesn’t well-uh-” 

“Hate me?” Narcissa asked knowingly, “No.” She answered. “It’s always been different for us than it was with Bella.”

The mention of the name involuntarily made Hermione shutter as a whimper escaped her. 

At the sound Ron turned to envelope her in a hug, just to find Narcissa already doing it. He was about to pull out his wand to do something, but to his surprise, Hermione was welcoming to the embrace, burrowing into her robes. 

He notices Narcissa holding her closer and he opens his mouth to tell the woman to take it easy, but Hermione winces instead, making her jump away. 

The young witch moves her hand to her ribs hoping to ease some pain. 

“What did you do? Ron accuses, sitting down next to Hermione, gently rubbing her back. At the action the brunette tries to offer a small smile, but the keyword here is tries. 

He wonders if he’ll ever see a proper smile from her again. 

“I have a book for Hermione in my robes. The corner must’ve dug into her ribs. If they’re still sore you should consider casting a-” 

“No!” Ron yelps, making her jump, “sorry love” He whispers after the fact. 

“So I was right then?”

The ginger eyes the woman, unsure what she means. 

“She can’t use magic.”

Before he can even react Hermione musters all of her strength to shrug his arm off of her.

“L-liar.” She said saldy. 

Technically he didn’t lie because it never exactly came up, but he knew that wasn’t an adequate response or excuse. Ron from five months ago might’ve said that, but he’s done a lot of growing up in that time. 

And the look of pain on her face breaks his heart, especially knowing he caused it. Especially after he swore to himself and to her all those nights in St. Mungo’s that he’d never hurt her again. 

“I don't know how to tell you Mione. Please believe me, please. I just- I didn’t want to hurt you anymore then I have already, okay? It fucking kills me seeing you like this darling. Please, I’m so sorry. Don’t let me lose you again.” He pleaded, forgetting Narcissa was even in the room.

A tear fell down her cheek, he swiped it gently with his thumb and relaxed the slightest when she allowed him to do so. 

“It’s not forever, I promise. You’re still a brilliant witch, it doesn’t make you any less magical, okay?” 

He watched as her eyes slowly roved to her bandaged arm, thinking about the vile term underneath. 

Mudblood. 

Anger momentarily bubbled within him thinking of the scar, but he pushed it down. He tilted her chin to look into his eyes, “Don’t think about that, please. You’re the Brightest Witch of Our Age. Nothing will ever change that, believe me alright? It’s just for a little while, I’m so sorry I lied Mione. I just- I hate to see you upset. I was being selfish and-” 

Hermione cut him off by placing a gentle hand over his mouth. 

It was so much to take in, but Ron has been  so lovely. Her moment of hurt was overshined by all the tender moments they’ve shared lately. And right now her brain is working in overdrive. 

Hatred for Bellatrix and all she’s taken from her. The thought of never performing a spell again. Would they kick her out of Hogwarts? 

Then she remembers Narcissa is here, Ron too, and right now she needs to focus on this before she explodes. Maybe Cissy has answers. She prays she does. 

When she moves her hand a ghost of a smile plays on Ron’s lips, thankful for the sign of forgiveness. 

“L-later.” she mumbled. 

He nodded in understanding, hand reaching for hers. 

Cissy watches the scene feeling her heartbreak for Hermione but also swell at the evident love between them. Then she remembers what event sparked the conversation in the first place. 

“I have something for you. Something you left behind.” 

Ron opens his mouth to protest, she needs no reminders of Malfoy Manor. Ever.

“Trust me.” Cissy whispers. 

From her black robes she pulls out a large book. 

The words Hogwarts, A History are printed on the binding. 

It looks a lot like the copy Bill and Charlie gave him. There’s even a tea stain on the- shite. 

With watery eyes, Narcissa places it in front of the pair. “I don’t believe you ever got to properly read this, huh dear?” She asked with a watery smile. 

Ron glances to gauge Hermione’s reaction. Her bottom lip is quivering and he sees a lone tear escape her brown sparkling eyes. 

But for the first time in a long time, he knows those tears weren’t ones of pain. 

As her shaking hand skims the leatherbound book she suddenly feels different. 

She’s not thinking of Bellatrix or Greyback or her parents. She’s thinking about how she’s here with Ron and Cissy and she feels an overwhelming sense of love coming from them. From this book, what it means, who gave it to her and who brought it back to her. 

When she opens to  the text, she spots the familiar scrawl in the front, running her fingers over the worn out ink and splotches from her salty tears. 

Hermione, 

I’m so sorry for everything that's happened. I’ve hurt you and for that I’ll never truly forgive myself. You know I’ve never been good with words, but I once told you I wouldn’t read this book for anything, but I did. For you. I hope you enjoy my rendition of Hogwarts, A History and I hope this can help show you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you, if only a little. I hope one day you can forgive me. Until then I’ll be waiting. Always. 

Happy Christmas 

Yours, Ron.

She spent the worst nights of her life bent over this book. It gave her hope to someday get back to Ron. To make things right.

But reading it this time was different. 

Instead of longing to see Ron again she turns and he’s there. 

His arms tighten around her and she swears she hears him sniffle and feels him press a light kiss to her hair. 

And she knows that this is what healing feels like.

“Thank you.” Her voice is cracked, but it's the strongest she’s sounded in months. 

Ron’s heart swells in his chest. He peers over at Narcissa Malfoy, who like him, is crying, and the two exchange soft smiles. 

In that moment Ron decides: maybe Narcissa Malfoy isn’t so bad after all. 

...

Hermione falls asleep on Ron’s chest, the book slanted in her lap. She’s calmer than she’s been in a while. No furrowed brows or pained groans. He keeps a gentle hand running through her hair, telling himself it’s keeping her sound asleep and it’s not just because her hair is so damn soft. 

“I wish I could have gotten her to sleep like that in the Manor. I wish I would’ve done more.” Narcissa’s voice breaks from where she sits on Harry’s camp bed. 

Ron just stares at her for a few moments before coming to a decision. One he’s reluctant about, but knows it's best for Hermione. 

“You can stay here.” 

The woman looks in shock. 

“Hermione would be upset if you left without a proper goodbye and I reckon there’s a lot you need to tell me, but not now. The sun will be up within the hour and I’m knackered.” He tells her, eyes averted to his Chudley Cannons poster. 

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be pleased with someone so closely involved with the Dark Lord under their roof.” She says quietly. 

“You’re done with that though?” He snaps, hand moving for his wand. 

“I am.” She assures with a nod, “I have been for a while.” 

Ron relaxes and lets out a breath. “Alright then. I’ll explain it to Mum and Dad eventually, but now isn’t right.”

Cissy nods again, “I’ll send a patronus to Andromeda, she’s still waiting in the orchard.” She explains taking out her wand, her true wand. 

A wispy swan glides elegantly from the tip of her wand and disappears as blueish white hues disappear out his window. 

“I’m going to bed.” Is all he says before blowing the candle on his bedside out and throwing the covers over both him and Hermione. 

He stays awake for a while though, worried Narcissa may try something. But eventually her breathing evens out and he’s too exhausted to stand guard any longer, so he succumbs to sleep knowing he’ll need his rest for all the answers to come tomorrow. 

Ones that are sure to break his heart. 

...

Green flames explode in the fireplace as a figure stumbles out. 

They brush the ash off and step into the Burrow’s living room. 

“Oh you’re early!” Molly exclaims as she comes near the fireplace, still in her slippers. “Hermione had a nasty nightmare so she’s up in the attic with Ron. It was a long night, so I reckon they’re still asleep. Go wake Ronnie at least, let Hermione rest.” She told them. 

With a nod, the figure took the familiar trek to Ron’s bedroom, not even bothering to knock before entering. 

Meant by the sight of Ron and Hermione curled around each other and an overwhelming sense of heartbreak and warmth flooded them. Heartbreak of knowing why they ended up that way, because of the nightmares, but warmth at seeing the look of content across their serene faces as they laid in one another's arms. 

But then he saw something. 

A third figure laid atop of the sheets of the camp bed tucked against the wall. 

Pulling out their wand they steadily positioned it, ready to curse whoever the mysterious occupant may be. 

But before they make it across the room, the figure bolts upright, seeming to have heard the heavy footsteps. 

And for the first time, Narcissa Malfoy is face to face with the infamous Harry Potter. 

#Ron and Hermione #Ron Weasley #rons-hermiones come find me #ron x hermione #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

🗓️ When did you create your blog? - 🖋️ What made you decide on your URL? - 📝 What was the name of your first fic? - 🏆 What is your favourite fic you’ve written and why? - ❤️ Who is your favourite character to write for? - 🥰 What’s the fic you’re most proud of? - 🎶 How do you get yourself in the mood to write? - 🤔 Have you got any fics planned? - 💕 What’s your favourite line in a fic you wrote?

Oh I created this blog back in Janurary 2020, like I knew the world was about to be put on a standstill. Not really, a friend had sent me some Steve Rogers Fanfic and I was hooked.

I dont remember my first name for this blog. Something to do with wolves. But I was thinking how I could slip my name into the Chris Evans fandom and make it uniquely mine. Then I saw the mean tweet clip about how Chris Evans was a stupid sweater wearing dumb dork and I based it around that mean tweet cause his reaction is so genuinely hilarious with it.

The name of my first posted fic is Plum Memories featuring Bucky Barnes reminiscing his first plum with a girl named Dot.

One of my favorite fics Ive written was an ask for Ari Levinson. Its untitled but can be read here. Just a smutty little piece about getting high with Ari. I think I enjoy it so much cause it just feels like an Ari moment, even though he rarely lazes and enjoys himself. Also... the scene is just really hot to me and makes me wish for it myself. Lol

My favorite character to write for? Probably Curtis Everett. Hes this angsty driven man, which is just a thing I enjoy in stories. I feel like giving some angst speaks to me. He lives in an apocalypse and that is one of my favorite settings.

Im most proud of Life After Snowpiercer. It was the biggest writing undertaking I have ever done and although its got issues, I will never feel prouder then I am of that. I love those two so much and I simply poured everything I had into it. I cried when I posted the last chapter, it was so overwhelming at the moment.

It has to be silent, I cant have any distractions. I dont like music or tv playing in the background, I dont like people trying to talk to me. So typically I write late at night when everyone is sleeping at home or those rare occasions I am home alone. The rare quiet times, I shut down the tabs to social media, and close my eyes, then type. After a while I will go back and edit my typing errors. But when I can get into that moment, the story plays like a movie in my mind. Its a hard thread to hold onto.

Any planned fics? I have been working all year on a Andy Barber series featuring a woman he saved. I also have a halloween fic featuring Nick Vaughn that I have been working harder on, trying to get it ready for October that is based on one of my favorite spooky movies.

Its not a line, but a paragraph from Home Sweet Home

At first Andy had no idea what he was actually looking at, a grotesque face appeared above him in the mirror, like it was balancing on the headboard behind him. Crouching in place, its clawed hands dug into the wood, its muscled body flexing as it swayed slightly on the headboard. Up to its face, a forked tongue slithered out and red eyes glared at him in the mirror. How could something from a nightmare be here right now? He wasn’t asleep, he was just about to make love to his wife. His head jerked back in shock, banging against the headboard with a loud crack as he looked up to see nothing above him. “Fuck!”

Thank you for the ask! Much love always

#positivity sleepover #amber answers

[madhoneys]

Shut-in recs part 2: short stories

Part 2 of my compilation of things to read and watch in these lonely times.

A heads up: giving individual trigger warnings would spoil a lot of plot points, but be aware that many of these stories contain disturbing physical and/or psychological imagery. Tread with care.

Leonid Andreyev: The Red Laugh and The Seven Who Were Hanged

One of my favorite Russian authors, Andreyev was a master of psychological writing; The Seven Who Were Hanged is a dramatic look into the lives and psyches of seven individuals all sentenced to be executed, in the days leading up to their deaths. The Red Laugh, on the other hand, is a haunting, visceral, hallucinatory nightmare of a story about the madness of war, culminating in one of the most terrifying finales I’ve ever read.

Joyce Carol Oates: Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

This sinister short story is about a strange standoff on a hot summer day between an innocent teenage girl and a mysterious suitor, brimming with tension.

Caroline M. Yoachim: Paperclips and Memories and Things That Won’t Be Missed

A very short, very poignant ghost story. Beautiful.

O. Henry: The Ransom of Red Chief

Reader, I was howling with laughter.

Saki: The Open Window and Sredni Vashtar

Saying pretty much anything about The Open Window would spoil most of it, so all I’m going to tell you is that it has one of my favorite twist endings ever written. Sredni Vashtar on the other hand is a strange, macabre story, wild in an almost pagan way, about a neglected little boy finding himself a deity to worship in his solitude.

Ray Bradbury: There Will Come Soft Rains

The entirety of the anthology this story came from (The Martian Chronicles) is hauntingly brilliant, but this tale is my favorite: a post-apocalyptic look at an automated house and its functioning long after its owners have perished, and one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever read.

Victor Pelevin: The Yellow Arrow

Another amazing, masterfully weird and deeply philosophical Russian short story, The Yellow Arrow is the story of a man’s quest to find out the purpose of his journey on a strange train.

Andy Weir: The Egg

A little sci-fi (or call it fantasy if you will), a little philosophy, a little magic in a unique look at the afterlife. A long-time favorite of mine.

Neil Gaiman: The Sleeper and the Spindle

You could add any Neil Gaiman short story to this list, really; but I have a soft spot for this beautiful, Gothic fairytale retelling with a twist or two.

Stephen King: The Bazaar of Bad Dreams (collection)

I honestly encourage you to find a copy of this strange, imaginative, macabre and literary collection of short fiction, novellas and even poetry. I know we all have Opinions about Stephen King (myself included), but the man is a master of the short story, and his latest collection is downright sophisticated in its craft.

Edgar Allan Poe: The Oval Portrait and The Oblong Box

I literally grew up on Poe’s writing as a baby goth girl so he will always have a special place in my heart, but let’s face it: everyone already knows his best stories. These two, however, are lesser-known but still beautifully written little Gothic gems about love, art, obsession and death.

Amanda Downum: Fossil Heart

Another old favorite, Fossil Heart is a chilling, bittersweet story about time travel, trauma, monsters, love between women and hard decisions.

Arthur C. Clarke: The Nine Billion Names of God

Sci-fi and religion don’t always go well together in my opinion, but when they do? Stories like this happen.

Nnedi Okorafor: Spider the Artist

A lovely sci-fi tale about the odd friendship between an abused woman in a destitute, exploited African village and a Zombie, I guarantee that this story will surprise you and maybe even warm your heart.

Richard Connell: The Most Dangerous Game

A suspenseful classic about a game between two master hunters where the prize is literally life or death.

Roald Dahl: Lamb to the Slaughter

A strange, twisty little crime classic about murder, I can’t give away too much about this story other than that it’s delightful.

Friedrich Dürrenmatt: The Pledge

A tightly plotted, suspenseful and incredibly bitter story about a detective desperately trying to find the murderer of a little girl, with an absolute gutpunch of a twist.

Franz Kafka: In the Penal Colony

A twisted, gruesome and nightmarish look into a penal institution with one hell of an execution method.

Merry reading, everyone.

#short stories #short story recs #sci-fi #classic literature #gothic literature #female authors #quarantine recs #words and stories and passions

[ibtk]

Book Review: THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY by Laura Jean McKay (2020)

(Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review through Edelweiss and Library Thing's Early Reviewers program. Content warning for violence, including that against animals. Caution: this review contains a spoiler in the form of an excerpt.)

'Well, I’ve got a secret for you, Miss Kimberly Russo.' She digs her sharp little nails into my skin. ‘What is it?’ ‘This flu means people can talk to animals.’ Her head shoots up. ‘I want the flu, Granny. Don’t you?’ ‘Grown-ups don’t wish they had diseases, and neither should you.’ ‘But don’t you?’ Outside, Wallamina and Princess Pie are nose and beak to the sliding door, trying to press their way through. Eyes shining. ‘Course I bloody do.’

I can see the wild in her. She looks and acts like any dog. Plays, wags, stares into my eyes with her baby browns; does chasey, catch, begs for biscuits. Then the dusk comes and she lifts her neck and howls the saddest song in all the world, and there’s that wild. Dingo, owl, night thing — that sound is a warning. Loneliest you’ll hear. Wraps around your face, your sleep, your dreams. She’s saying: ‘Hey, hey. There’s something coming.’ The rangers here are always telling me, don’t talk like that. They say how dingoes are just establishing territory, checking on their pack. Dingo admin. But stand on the hot road that runs from the gift shop to the enclosures, and listen to the dingo in her cage call out to the packs on the other side of the fence. Tell me that’s not special. Tell me she doesn’t know something about the world that you and me haven’t ever thought of.

Jean Bennett isn't you're typical grandma - unless you're picturing Gemma Teller Morrow, that is. Jean drinks, smokes, swears, and sleeps around, usually all at the same time, and occasionally with her gay and committed coworker, Andy. She's got a tiger tattooed on her boob, and a dingo named Sue imprinted on her heart.

A lowly guide who dreams of becoming a ranger, Jean works at an Australian wildlife park, run by her son's ex-girlfriend Angela and owned by Angela's father. Jean and her husband Graham landed there years ago, after bouncing around the world for a while. Eventually Graham left Jean to shack up with another woman; their only child, Lee, jumped ship too, but not before hooking up with - and impregnating - Angela. Now Ange mostly keeps Jean around for the free child care (and maybe also because Ange feels sorry for her).

As for Jean, she stays stuck in this weird, awkward morass for her granddaughter Kimberley - one of the few people she can tolerate, let alone love. Jean prefers animals of the nonhuman variety, and the Park's residents/captives are her found family. She has a special place in her cockles for Sue, a dingo mix who she helped rescue as a wee little pup.

Jean's precarious life is already teetering on the edge of chaos when THE FLU arrives - first in southern Australia, then at the Park's gates, thanks to none other than an infected Lee, as charming as he is irresponsible.

Zoanthropathy (from Greek: zóo, “animal”, anthroponis, “human”, pathy, “disorder”), aka zooflu, otherwise known as "the talking animal disease," allow humans to understand and communicate with other animals:

'The strain known as zoanthropathy affects cognition in humans, and it is believed that enhanced communication between humans and nonhuman animals is possible. Zoanthropathy is hosted and spread by humans. [...] The disease is very high in morbidity and very low in mortality. Infected humans appear able to communicate (encode) and translate (decode) previously unrecognisable non-verbal communications via major senses such as sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound with nonhuman animals.'

When Lee runs off with Kimberley - to commune with the whales on the southern coast - Jean embarks on a cross-country road trip to find them. Riding shotgun is Sue, whose keen nose points the way to Tomorrow (Tomorrow being Sue's conceptualization of Kimberley. Jean is Yesterday, and Lee is Never There. Scathing, yet accurate.)

As with most potentially animal-friendly tales, I was equally nervous and excited to dive into THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY. As it is, the book both thrilled and disappointed me; I almost feel like it deserves two separate ratings, one for the idea and actualization of the dystopian zooflu future - which is breathtaking - and another for the human-centered plot that propels the audience's journey into this world - which is decidedly less so.

Let's start with the zooflu. It seems like it would be awesome to be able to talk to animals, right? Think again. I mean, really turn the idea over in your head, sit with the superpower, and try to envision what this might entail. Given that most of the nonhumans we encounter on the daily are exploited, oppressed, or otherwise negatively impacted by humans -

be it the 25 million farmed animals we create, torture, and kill for food every year in the US alone; the "wildlife" (read: free-living animals) we displace, starve, and kill through habitat loss; the dogs and cats we buy, neglect, and then abandon at shelters; or the animals we unintentionally hit with our cars (or the bugs we trod on just walking down the street); etc. x infinity

- we are weapons of mass destruction. To most of our nonhuman kin (and sometimes our fellow humans, too). Instead of words of wisdom and messages of hope, we'd be more likely to hear cries of terror. Confusion. Pain and agony. Hellfire, everywhere. Created and fueled by us and our own.

Heck, I'm not even sure it would be beneficial to always know exactly what our beloved, nonhuman family members are thinking. I have a fifteen-year-old dog named Finn who's going deaf and blind and battling dementia. More often than not, I suspect that being privy to his innermost thoughts would freak me the fuck out. Not to mention break my damn heart.

And then there's the mode of communication: not just just verbal, as we're used to, but all-encompassing: "sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound." Think pheromones, sound waves, scratches and ticks. The beating of countless tiny wings, all bombarding your brain and trying to tell you something. That kind of thing, coming at you uninvited and from all directions, is apt to drive a person mad. And it does, as evidenced by zooflu sufferers who stuff their orifices with whatever's handy to block incoming stimuli - or, at the more extreme end, the pseudo-religious trepanners who invite strangers to drill holes in their skulls in a misguided attempt to relieve the pressure.

Talking to animals sounds like the stuff of dreams - but in McKay's hands, it's a nightmare.

And a pretty trippy one, at that: fittingly, the incoming messages that Jean's left to decode aren't quite what you'd call straightforward. There's a lot of translation required, and Google hasn't yet caught up:

I’m reading her body like some language I barely remember from a high school textbook. Bonjour madame, connaissez-vous le chemin de la gare? Let’s go to the station. Or, where the hell is the supermarket? I can parrot the words, but the meaning is in scraps.

Copies of this book should be sold with a sheet of acid, or maybe some edibles. I kid, but also not.

If, like me, you assumed that increased understanding and compassion would surely spring forth from this newfound ability to communicate with nonhuman animals, you'd be wrong. While some people do indeed embrace the flu, many others lash out: animal-free zones are established, and hungry citizens start hunting former pets, since they make for easy prey (apparently they've never heard of fruits and veggies?).

There's one especially excruciating scene that I don't think I'll ever be able to forget. Jean takes refuge in a makeshift church, only to catch a glimpse of how the missionaries make their sausage (stew):

A small fluffy dog has pelted out a kitchen door, thin bit of twine tangled around its legs, body blonde fire, screaming, Hello. Please. Please bite its soft. Quick. Help me. I jump up, calling the poor little bugger, but the parishioners shriek louder, climbing on their chairs like that dog is the snake from the garden of Eden. The woman rushes for her daughter and hauls her by an arm out of the room. It’s funny, for a second, until the laugh dies in my throat. The little dog, too tangled in the twine to move, slumps panting in the aisle. It’s not just m e. Where’s other me. She’s still — The god-botherers are faster than me. They grab that dog with WWF wrestling passion, using real lumps of wood, real knives. The little dog has enough time to issue a thick whiff of terror from its undercarriage, Help her, before they’ve slit it ear to ear right there in the pulpit. There was no blood with Lee. He didn’t even look that drowned. He might have come alive any moment. He might be alive right now in his grave. This little dog, though, is bleeding out on the beige carpet. The door to the kitchen is open. Matthew the soup cook leans on the jamb, then turns back. A fluffy tail on a chopping board. The steaming pots. Pain like a stab to my guts — he stirs a soup very much like the one he was serving up in the park.

Of course, this scene is so repulsive to most of us - Jean included - only because the animal being killed and consumed is designated for "companionship" instead of "food," at least in this particular culture. Chances are you've known and loved a dog or two yourself - and so the doomed beast transforms from a something to a someone. Not an unfeeling object to be used and discarded at will, but a sentient creature with her own feelings, desires, and loved ones. Had it been a chicken or pig, the result wouldn't be quite so horrifying; Jean herself eats meat, and justifies doing so, on several occasions.

Yet an earlier scene - in which Jean comes upon an abandoned tractor trailer truck packed with pigs destined for slaughter - will hopefully challenge readers to expand their circle of compassion:

I’ve seen battery hogs before — of course I have. But not out and about. Not staggering around and trying to walk, calling to whatever they think is ‘more’. Glazed eyes that strain like they’ve never seen sunlight. Skin stretched over bodies fed to the point of bursting — something between swine and meat. Saw some animal liberationists on the street in the city one time, saying factory farms were the same as Nazi camps. I called them bloody racists too. The pigs clatter past me down the ramp, fucked-up eyes on the road ahead, calling, Hello is it more. Those animal nutters were wrong, but not in the way I thought. It’s not the same as the Nazis: that was us doing to us. What’s this? [...] A hurt sow sits on her haunches, then lies down on the verge, panting unevenly under the slathering sun. Another weaves blindly over the asphalt toward her, flies spinning around her head. They push their noses into each other. Send me a postcard, the sick one says. Postcard, indeed. What the fuck. I watch more closely. The meaning bright off that tight skin. All the little bits saying, Leave me, and, I’ll hear about it, and, Don’t you see it. Move on. There’s more. The ones that can walk stretch their legs, for, More, more, more. I stand at the top of the truck ramp watching them break into a group trot toward the next paddock. Skin rippling. Hooves carolling. Know that heart-in-your-mouth run. Know exactly what ‘more’ is. I’ve seen it in Lee and I’ve had it too, at times. These pigs are half dead, they’re stumbling around, blind, mad, and fucking hopeful.

Even if many of the characters in this book resist the humanity clearly evident in nonhuman animals, I hope that readers will hold these passages close - especially at the dinner table.

Sue, our main nonhuman protagonist, is a fascinating character; like many of the semi-domesticated animals in the park, McKay paints her as a series of conflicting impulses: safety or freedom. Hunger or satiation. Dingoes or humans. She is fiercely loyal, much to her own detriment. She has wants and needs of her own, and she's often satisfied to set them aside for the good of her (adopted) pack.

And I guess that brings me to the second half of this review: the humans, most of whom are awful. Jean, exponentially so.

Initially I thought that Jean would be my people: she's a hard-drinking, mold-breaking badass broad who gets on better with animals than people. She has a mini-rescue in her backyard where she keeps some of the park's doomed relinquishments. (The public treats the park like a rehab facility when in fact it's in the business of entertainment - old, sick, injured, and "common" animals are routinely killed.) She and Kimberley spend their afternoons together designing the animal rescue they hope to build one day.

But Jean is kind of a terrible person. To call her a misanthrope is half the story: she's also senselessly mean and cruel, especially when drunk, hungover, or frustrated (in other words, 90% of the time). I don't fault Jean for her substance abuse problem - alcoholism is a mental health issue and should be treated as such - but nor is it an excuse for being such an asshole. (There's even a scene where she trolls people discussing the zooflu online, like a fucking American redhat.) She's shit to everyone around her, except for Kimberley and Lee (Lee, who could use a good ass-kicking).

And then there's Sue: Sue, who followed Jean across the damn country when she should have been settling into a dingo pack of her own. Sue, who found Kimberley and saved Jean's life. Sue, who is nothing but good and true and trustworthy. Sue, who Jean assaults on multiple occasions: kicking her in the ribs, binding her with rope to prevent her escape, and even trying to shoot her (with a gun that's thankfully empty of bullets). At one point, she "forgives" Sue for saving her life - as if Sue's the one who needs forgiveness!

Despite the abuse, Sue continues to stick by Jean's side, which galled me endlessly. Towards the end of the story, following the attempted murder, Sue gets revenge of a sort, dominating a delirious Jean and forcing her subservience. However, the book ends shortly thereafter, cutting any sense of satisfaction far too short.

I really felt cheated with Jean: I thought she might be my avatar in this world - but she's just another terrible human who doesn't deserve the company of animals.

Likewise, the whole subplot involving Kimberley's parentage is way over the top dramatic and unnecessary; it seemed like we were being plucked from a dystopia and dropped into a soap opera for a minute there. Just, gross. So yeah, there are definitely some aspects of the book that I appreciated more than others. THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY may be imperfect - but I'd still wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone looking to explore our relationship to nonhuman animals in a dystopian setting.

#books #reviews #book reviews #fiction #science fiction #dystopia #nonhuman animals #Laura Jean McKay #the animals in that country

[miss-nerdstiles]

THE WEST WING #105 [5-17] The Supremes Full transcript Written by Deborah Cahn Directed by Jessica Yu.  I do not own this in any way, nor do I get anything from the sharing of it.

(MONDAY)

(CROWD OUTSIDE)

DONNA: (on phone) Tommy at Justice.  Covitz at Justice.  Citizens For a Strong America. Archbishop Gaudio, Archbishop Rummel…

JOSH: What?!  

DONNA: Rummel! Of New York. Man of God.

JOSH: I can't hear a damn...  Excuse me please.  Thank You.  How are these people up so early?  

DONNA: It's a Supreme Court seat.  They had sign-painting parties the second Justice Brady dropped dead.  Council sent a new list, said burn the old list.

JOSH:  Listen to this.  “They cavalierly sacrificed the unborn innocents and beckon, arms akimbo, the reaper, the horseman and the apocalyptic end.  Akimbo is a word you wish got used more.  There’s someone out there selling  “Who Would Jesus Nominate” t-shirts.  

DONNA: They’re in Leo’s. They just started.  

(OUTSIDE LEO’S OFFICE)

JOSH: You want this?  

DONNA: You don't like it?  

JOSH: Not really. Sorry I'm late.

LEO: Dem Leadership is in with the President.  

JOSH: They giving us more names?

LEO: I'm sure they are.  

TOBY: I need the short list by the end of the week.  

LEO: Your schedule.  Your schedule.  Mine.  Keep 'em quick.  You got 3 judges an hour.  

C.J.: Who has Austin Girelli from Connecticut?  

TOBY: Me.  

C.J.: ACLU called about him.  I don't think it'll be a problem, but ask him about that migrant workers thing he wrote.  

JOSH: Why isn't Haskins on here?

LEO: Having an affair with his clerk.  

MARGARET: Toby - Dubar on line two.  

C.J.: Here’s Bernstein. And this is…

TOBY: [on phone] Senator? Yes, Senator.  No we're not having a party over the death of a Supreme Court Justice.  Well, not a big party.  

JOSH: Evelyn Baker Lang?  

LEO: Fourth circuit.  

JOSH: Isn't she kind of a lefty?

LEO: Yeah  

C.J.: Decoy duck.  And don’t do it in your office.  Do it someplace where the press can see her.  

LEO: We want the left flank sufficiently mollified and the right flank sufficiently panicked so as to inspire a little conciliation on all flanks.  

JOSH: Lang should do the trick.

TOBY: Put Fred Canterbury down on some list of people we’ll never consider.  

C.J.: Baker Lang's just with Josh?

LEO: You want Toby too?  

C.J.: It'll look more like we're taking her seriously.  

LEO: Toby, Evelyn Baker Lang will be your 8:45 with Josh.  Let's go, people. First one to find me a Supreme Court Justice gets a free corned beef sandwich.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Obviously we're impressed with your record.  

TOBY: Your work on the 14th Amendment in particular is the stuff dreams are made of.  

JOSH: But before anything else, we want to gauge your interest level.  This will certainly be a lifestyle...  

LANG: We can just chat  

JOSH: I'm sorry?  

LANG: I hear you really went to bat for Eric Hayden.  

JOSH: I wish we could have gotten him confirmed.  

TOBY: Judge Lang, if the President were to...  

LANG: Is he still teaching?

JOSH: Eric?  Yeah.  Umm...again, if we...  

LANG: A conservative anchor of the court has just died.  A young brilliant thinker who brought the right out of the closet and championed a whole conservative revival.  You cannot replace Owen Brady with a woman who overturned a parental consent law.  You'd be shish-ka-bob'd and set aflame on the south lawn.  Two reporters have... three reporters have walked by since we started.  I'm window dressing. That's fine. I'm happy to help.  But let's just chat about the weather.

(OUT IN THE HALL)

TOBY: Not bad.

JOSH: That's what we're talking about.  Maybe we should put her on the short list.  

TOBY: Yeah

JOSH: Okay, who's next?  (Donna gives them folders)

TOBY: That’s his.

DONNA: This is…

JOSH: That’s a “no”.

ACT ONE  

(DONNA’S DESK)

DONNA: Sign, please.  

JOSH: You want to move it so I can see?  

DONNA: Not really  

JOSH: Why are we apologizing to Ashland?  

DONNA: We sent him flowers. Condolence flowers.  

JOSH: Condolences?  

DONNA: For his death.  

JOSH: He's alive.  

DONNA: That's what he said.  

JOSH: We sent flowers to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court on the occasion of his death?  

DONNA: They were supposed to go to Justice Brady's family.  

JOSH: Get protocol on the phone.

DONNA: They didn't actually....

JOSH: We did this?!  

DONNA: It was an honest mistake. Ashland's 80, he's knock knock knocking on ....  

JOSH: Who put the order in?

RYAN: Hey guys!  

JOSH: You sent a funeral bouquet to the family of the living breathing Chief Justice of the Supreme Court?

RYAN: No I sent them to the guy who died , Brady.  

JOSH: No, actually you didn't.

RYAN: This is terrible.  Umm... I really apologize.  You know I am a nightmare with details.  It's embarrassing.  This stuff just leaks out of my head. We should leave the detail work to Donna.  She's got the head for it.  I'm more of a big picture kind of guy.  

JOSH: She's here because she's invaluable.  You're here because your uncle's so powerful I can't fire you.  Big Picture.  

LISA: Hi.  Bad time?  

JOSH: I'm on my way out.  

LISA: Two minutes.  

RYAN: Lisa, right?  You work for the Judiciary Committee.  

LISA: Staff Director.  

RYAN: Ryan Pierce, we met at my office.  

JOSH: Excuse us.  

LISA: Is he the one who flipped the car in Nice?  

JOSH: Yeah.  

LISA: When do I see names for Brady's seat?  

JOSH: Do you want to let the body cool?  

LISA: You’re meeting with Barwald, Girelli, Evelyn Baker Lang.

JOSH: Here we go.

LISA: Whose acid trip is that?

JOSH: Just take a breath.  

LISA: The committee’s not going to let the balance of the court hurl wildly to the left.  You fill Brady's seat with...  

JOSH: It's not Brady's seat.

LISA: It's not your Senate.

JOSH: We're just looking at the field.  

LISA: Girelli has a fondness for Vicodin and Evelyn Lang is not an option.  Save us all some time.  

JOSH: We're some democrats over here.  We're not going to nominate a born again elk hunter with a tattoo of the confederate flag on his ass.  

LISA: Look at Arthur Lopez or Brad Shelton or Mayra Height.  You go with Barwald or Lang and the Senate is going to make the next year of your life a living hell.  I tell you this as a person who would be your friend if I was a person who looked for different things in friends.  

JOSH: We should do this in more often.  

LISA: As often as it takes.

(LEO’S OFFICE)

LEO: [on phone] We don't' hate Asians.  No we don't.  Justice Wong is more valuable to us where he is. Certainly. Thank you sir. [hangs up] Do a drive-by with Sebastian Cho, Massachusetts Supreme.  

TOBY: Yeah.  You were looking for me?  

LEO: You hear about a congressional delegation to the Middle East?  

TOBY: Next month.  

LEO: It was Jordan and Egypt. Now they want to add Israel and do a day in the territories and meet with this shadow negotiation crew.  State's iffy.

TOBY: As they should be.  The Prime Minister is going to go through the roof.  

LEO: Not to mention the Palestinian authority.  

TOBY: I'll look into it.  

LEO: Andy's leading the delegation.  Is that going to be a...  

TOBY: No.  I'm on it.  

JOSH: President's on his way.  What's up?  

TOBY: We hate Asians.  

JOSH: Okay.  

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

DEBBIE: Ah Rina, how goes it?

RINA: These are today's. And Mr. Ziegler says that the President would want this before their 1:00.  

DEBBIE: Oh here, you can put it in his hot little hands yourself.

RINA: Ah, this is for you, sir.

BARTLET: Thank you Lana.  

RINA: Uh, thank you sir.  (to Debbie) It…

DEBBIE: I hate to do this, but it's Rina, sir.  

BARTLET: What?  

DEBBIE: The girl in the dress with the flowers.  

BARTLET: Just now?  

DEBBIE: Yes.  

BARTLET: What'd I call her?

DEBBIE: Lana.  

BARTLET: Who's Lana?  

DEBBIE: I'm guessing an exotic dancer from your spotty youth.  

BARTLET: I should apologize.  Get her back.  

DEBBIE: You asked me yesterday how the schedule gets off the rails.  

BARTLET: Yeah.  

DEBBIE: This is how.  

LEO: Good afternoon, Mr. President.  

BARTLET: Hey, we make any friends?

JOSH: Maybe Zimmerly, Shelton.

TOBY: Mehldau.  

JOSH: Lang was pretty impressive.

BARTLET: The gal from the 4th?  Didn't she strike down some stuff?

JOSH: Parental consent for abortion.  

BARTLET: Yeah, that's not going to happen.  

LEO: She was a red flag to the bull.  

JOSH: Well, it's working.  Lisa Wolfe from the judiciary committee showed up today spewing all kinds of threats and admonitions.  

LEO: About what?  

TOBY: Three dems on the committee called, elated we were considering bold choices.  

LEO: If the strategy's working, let's get her in again.  

BARTLET: You like Shelton?  

JOSH: Yeah.  Moderate, insightful, gets it.  

BARTLET: Let's meet him.  Who else?  

JOSH: Helen Waller.  Beresford Bannett DC Circuit.  Ellis Yaffe.  Martha Zell. Uh.. Howard Kagen out of New York.

(TUESDAY)

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

TOBY: What are you doing?  

C.J.: Nothing.  

TOBY: What?  

CAROL: She has a date.  

C.J.: And she's getting fired.

TOBY: Evelyn Lang’s coming back in for another red herring performance, 3:00.  You don't find that annoying?  

C.J.: I'll have Carol march the Times by Lang at three.  

TOBY: Brad Shelton's in with the President.  

C.J.: We like him.  

TOBY: Yeah,  we do.  

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: E. Bradford Shelton.  What's the E for?  

SHELTON: Elijah.  

BARTLET: That's a burden.  

SHELTON: Hence the E.  

BARTLET: I hear good things about you from my staff.  What did they miss?  

SHELTON: My son burned you in effigy.  

BARTLET: Did you watch?  

SHELTON: I didn't. It was a campus demonstration against American presence in Saudi Arabia.  There's a photo in his yearbook.  Someone'll dig it up.  I thought it would sound better in person than on paper.  

BARTLET: I'm not sure it did.  Did he burn anybody else?  

SHELTON: No, just you.  

(HALLWAY)

LANG: Well, I’ve missed you both.

JOSH: We appreciate this.  

LANG: I keep running into Brad Shelton in the parking lot.  Some say coincidence. I'm not so sure.  

JOSH: You have been very patient.

LANG: Well I don't mind.  But people wonder why the appellate system is so backed up.  We shouldn't let them know this is how I spend my time.  

TOBY: Well, if you were less appealing.  

LANG: Same to you sir.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Affirmative action is going to be back in the next few years.  Let's start there.  

SHELTON: What do I know about it?

BARTLET: What do you think about it?

SHELTON: I don't know.  Not the answer you were looking for?  

BARTLET: Not really.  

SHELTON: Unnerving isn't it?

BARTLET: Is there another topic you'd be more comfortable with?  

SHELTON: Nothing comes to mind.

BARTLET: Perhaps you should make something up.  

SHELTON: I'm not trying to be cagey, but I don't position myself on issues and I don't know what I think about a case until I hear it.  There are moderates who are called that because they are not activists.  And there are moderates who are called that because sometimes they wind up on the left and sometimes on the right.  

BARTLET: You think I want someone who’s gonna vote with Ashland?  

SHELTON: I think you are looking for somebody who will vote with him now and replace him later.  

BARTLET: And that's not you?

SHELTON: Wish it were.  He's a giant.  But my allegiance to the eccentricities of a case will reliably outweigh my allegiance to any position you might wish I held.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Let's talk a little bit about what the judiciary committee's concerns would be.  We can safely say reproductive rights are gonna come up.  

TOBY: They're going to say judicial activism, particularly in drori.  How would you address that?  

LANG: And you're who?  

TOBY: I'm sorry?  

LANG: Who are you?  We're playing committee.  

JOSH: This will be coming from one of the 11 Republicans on there.  Mitchell -  

LANG: You can only be one.  

JOSH: We don't need to -  

LANG: If you're Webster, the question is 'Where do you stand on Roe v Wade?'.  And the answer is 'Judicial ruling shouldn't be based on personal ideology, mine or anyone else's'.  If you're Davies, the question is 'How would you approach a D&X case?' because he's the drum banger on partial birth.  And the answer is 'I don't comment on hypotheticals'.  If you're Malkin, you're from Virginia, so you ask about my decision in drori.  I take you point by point from the doctor to the father to Casey to undue burden to equal protection back to Roe at which point you can't remember the question and I drink my water for a minute while you regroup.  

JOSH: Will you excuse us for a second?

(OUT IN THE HALL)

JOSH: I love her.  I love her mind.  I love her shoes.  

TOBY: We march her to five senator's offices and they'll be so scared they'll beg us to put Shelton on the court.  

(ROOSEVELT ROOM)

JOSH: Sorry. You were vetted by the FBI when you hit the Federal bench, but if we re-opened an investigation....

LANG: I'm a shill, right?  Why would you bother with a background check?  

JOSH: Humor us.  

TOBY: If there's anything that they didn't find...  

LANG: Let's see, umm... in high school I snuck a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover out of the public library and never returned it.  In college I got a marijuana plant from my roommate as a birthday present.  And in year two of law school I had an abortion.  Can I get some water while you regroup?

ACT TWO  

JOSH: Okay.  Okay.  

LANG: I tell you this so you'd be prepared. It might not come up, but if it did, I wouldn't comment.  

JOSH: But if they know, it'll be hard.  

LANG: Roe v Wade affords me the right to terminate a pregnancy and to do so, free from all restraint or interference of others.  

JOSH: A hearing room....  

LANG: I'm told I have a right to privacy.  I think this would be the sort of thing it's referring to.  I also bet like a drunken sailor during my bi-monthly games of Hearts.  Do you wanna talk about that?

(C.J.’S OFFICE)

C.J.: An abortion?  

TOBY: Of all the gin joints in all the world....  

JOSH: Maybe they won't find it.

TOBY: Oh, they'll find it.  

JOSH: Yeah, but who's going to bring it up?  The committee, they'd look like monsters.  

C.J.: They don't have to.  Someone leaks it to the tabloid press, it's a feeding frenzy in 12 hours.  

JOSH: She says she can handle it.

C.J.: Oh, okay.  

TOBY: Well, we need her.  She's the cautionary tale.  Without her, we may not get Shelton.

C.J.: You been outside today?  We don't hand someone to the madding crowd so they can take the heat off some guy from Indiana.  

JOSH: The woman is - you should hear her.  

C.J.: What? So she IS a serious candidate?  

JOSH: She should be.  

C.J.: She's going to be on posters under a headline that says 'Wanted for the murder of 15 million American children'.  

JOSH: Let's think about this.

C.J.: Let it go.  

JOSH: No.  Really, nominees live or die by Roe v Wade.  We're playing along with the ridiculous notion that the Supreme Court is a single issue body in a way it hasn't been since, I don't know what...  

TOBY: Slavery.  

JOSH: Exactly.  So she had an abortion. Who the hell are we?  

C.J.: You think I like this? You keep this up, somone's going to take this to the press and this bright woman's going to be a checkout counter spectacle. Get her out of the building.

(WEDNESDAY)  

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: Brad Shelton could work for us.  I like him.

LEO: So talk to him this afternoon.  He's going to start getting calls.  

BARTLET: Who else?  

TOBY: Wisnewski’s a good maybe.  The majority leader’s really pushing him.  And Barkham from the 5th, though he has a question.  

JOSH: It's a tax thing.  We're looking into it.  

BARTLET: You still having a love affair with Evelyn Lang?  

JOSH: No. Uh, Robert Brant.

BARTLET: How come?  

JOSH: She won't make through vetting.  

BARTLET: Why not?  

TOBY: She had an abortion.  

JOSH: Robert Brandt’s on the 9th circuit state.  Stan Yancy's worked with him and says he's always kept his cards -  

BARTLET: When did she have an abortion?  

JOSH: Law school.  

BARTLET: Before or -  

C.J.: After '73, it was legal.

BARTLET: We discarding anybody else for legal activities?  

TOBY: Not yet.  

BARTLET: Tonsillectomy? We down on surfing this year?  

C.J.: She'd be publicly eviscerated.  

BARTLET: 27 million women voted for me.  I think they might had in mind that I was going to protect this particular right.

JOSH: We have plenty –

BARTLET: “I like that guy from Florida with the good hairdo, but I want to retain my right to choose, so I'm voting for what's-his-name, married to Abbey Bartlet.”  

TOBY: Sir.  They're going to make this about her objectivity.  

BARTLET: We promised the committee a short list by Friday.  I want her name on it.  

LEO: Okay.  

STAFF: Thank you, Mr. President.  (EXEUNT)

BARTLET: That pisses me off.

LEO: Apparently.  

BARTLET: We marched her around here all week.  The honor of a place on the short list is the least we could do.  

LEO: We’re still going with Brad Shelton?  BARTLET: (nods)

(DONNA’S CUBICLE)

RYAN: Filling a seat on the Supremes…heady stuff.  

DONNA: Don't call them that.

RYAN: My uncle calls them that.  So does the minority leader.  So does Henry Clark.  You know him? He's on the court.  

DONNA: You drop one more name and I'm going to staple your mouth shut.  

RYAN: (chuckles)

JOSH: There’ll be hell to pay at Agincourt.  I've offended the dauphin.  

DONNA: Lisa Wolfe called twice.  Senator Webster called regarding E. Lang.  “What can you possibly be thinking?”  Senator Milbank, regarding Lang.  “NO NO NO NO NO.” Bertha McNull, “Not a snow ball's chance in...” oh, that's not about Lang.  That's about the highways bill.  

JOSH: I need a drink.  

DONNA: Sun’s not over the yardarm.

JOSH: C.J.'s right.  

DONNA: Usually. You want a Black Eyed Susan?  

JOSH: Is that a drink?  

DONNA: It's a cookie.  My mom sent them.  

JOSH: No -- Yes.  

DONNA: Peanut butter with a chocolate kiss.  

JOSH: They’re cat people?  [holding up cookie tin]

DONNA: No they're not.  

JOSH: These theirs?  

DONNA: Shadrach and Meschach.

JOSH: Two cats, they’re cat people.  

DONNA: For years they only had one, but he died over Christmas.  

JOSH: This is a dry cookie.

DONNA: After what was deemed an appropriate mourning period, they went to get a new one. And my mother liked the abyssinian and my father liked the gray.  And they claim that after 39 years of marriage, they’ve outgrown compromise, so they got both.  It doesn't make them cat people.  The house doesn't smell. Do I have crumbs?  

(TOBY’S OFFICE)

JOSH: They pick one.  They pick one! That's how we get Evie Lang. And not as a decoy.  We put her on the court.  

TOBY: Hi.  

JOSH: The Chief Justice says he wouldn't step down because the President wouldn't be able to fill his seat with another liberal lion.  She's the liberal lion. Ashland resigns, she takes his seat, okay?  And we offer the Republican Senate Judiciary Committee the opportunity to hand-pick a conservative for Brady's seat.  We put 'em both up.  

TOBY: I’m ordering mu-shu. You want some?  

JOSH: Listen to me.  

TOBY: No.  

JOSH: I'm serious.  

TOBY: And then we got what, after we hand the Republicans a seat on the Supreme Court with a red bow on top?

JOSH: We have a balanced court.  They can't let Brady's seat go to a liberal.  So let them keep it.  Meanwhile, we name the first female Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in the nation's history.  I'm taking it to the President.  

TOBY: No you're not.  Do not go in there.  

(HALLWAY)

JOSH: Trip him.  

TOBY: Ashland is 82.  We may have an opportunity to put two people on this bench. That's two seats we fill with Democrats.  

JOSH: Moderates.  

TOBY: What do you care how moderate they are?  Two is twice as many as one.

(OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE)

JOSH: Can I get in there?  

DEBBIE: No, just a minute.  

TOBY: We don't need him.  

JOSH: Not moderate, mediocre.

TOBY: What, Shelton’s not bright enough for you?  

JOSH: I want more than bright.  If we had a bench full of moderates in ’54, 'Separate but Equal' would still be on the books, and this place would still have two sets of drinking fountains.  

TOBY: Moderate means temperate.  It means responsible.  It means thoughtful.  

JOSH: It means cautious.  It means unimaginative.  

TOBY: It means being more concerned about making decisions than making history.  

DEBBIE: Indoor voices please.

JOSH: Is that really the biggest tragedy in the world?  That we nominated somebody who made an impression instead of some second rate crowd pleaser?

TOBY: The ability to see tow sides of an argument is not the hallmark of an inferior intellect.  

DEBBIE: Toby!

JOSH: What about the vast arenas of debate a moderate won't even address? A mind like Lang's?

DEBBIE: Josh!  

JOSH: Let them pick a conservative with a mind like like Justice Brady had.  

DEBBIE: Josh!  

JOSH: You can hate his positions, but he was a visionary.  He blew the whole thing open.  He changed the whole argument.

DEBBIE: (sprays water in Josh’s face) The President will see you now.  

BARTLET: And you?  

TOBY: I think they're going to pick a young, spry, conservative ideologue who's going to camp out in that seat for 45 years.  

JOSH: Fine.  Two voices are articulating the debate at either end of the spectrum.  

BARTLET: Filling another seat on the court may be the only lasting thing I do in this office. Shelton's a great choice. He'll make us proud. And if Ashland resigns in a year, we’ve got a stack of great options. We can't give it away.  

JOSH: Mr. President, the first woman in that chair.  

TOBY: We go out on some limb here and alienate the Senate, they'll tread water for three years, and we get nobody. The next guy gets to fill Brady's seat.  

BARTLET: Take it to Ashland.  See what he says.

TOBY: How’d you come up with it?

JOSH: What?  

TOBY: The swap-a-dee-doo.  

JOSH: There was.... Donna's mom... I thought it up in the shower.

(JUSTICE ASHLAND’S OFFICE)

ASHLAND: Who let them in?  

TOBY: Sorry to disturb you, sir.

ASHLAND: Carrier pigeons. Oh -- your flowers.  Yeah, we like them.  

JOSH: I'm dreadfully sorry about that, sir.  

ASHLAND: Oh for God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.  Brady was your age.  Eat your greens.  

TOBY: He was a great man.  

ASHLAND: He was a selfish bastard.

JOSH: You told the President you hope to be replaced by a liberal with the same level conviction that you brought to the chair.  

ASHLAND: That sounds like something I'd say.  

TOBY: Sir, are you familiar with Evelyn Baker Lang?  

ASHLAND: Miss Lang. You've met with her?  

JOSH: Yes sir.  

ASHLAND: How are you going to get her past the pit bulls?  They're not going to like the notion of Miss Lang in Owen Brady's seat.  

JOSH: For your seat, if - if - you were to resign, she'd be Chief.  

ASHLAND: My seat? What about Brady's?  

TOBY: We'd allow the Judiciary Committee to choose someone.  A conservative.  

JOSH: Would you consider stepping down under those circumstances?  

ASHLAND: Sure.  

JOSH: We think it might be a viable option.  

ASHLAND: Go ahead, see who they pick of their favorite sons.  See what segregationist, anti-miscegenationist,  Isaiah-quoting, gay-bashing bastard they come up with. Jed Bartlet from New Hampshire had an idea.  Uh-oh.

ACT THREE

(THURSDAY, LISA WOLFE’S OFFICE)  

LISA: No, I cut this because what he's implying is illegal.  Take it back out. [to Josh] Three times in one week.  In some cultures we'd be married.  

JOSH: Chilling.  

LISA: Is it Shelton?  

JOSH: He's the front runner.

LISA: Good, are we done?  

JOSH: Mind if I shut the door?

LISA: No.  

JOSH: How are you doing?  

LISA: Ah, super!  

JOSH: Feeling good?  

LISA: I got a meeting in 4 minutes.  

JOSH: I'm going to float an idea here that even I can't believe I'm mentioning and my colleagues definitely can't believe I'm mentioning, and the President would probably prefer I drop completely and if I find it in the Washington Post tomorrow morning, I'll march straight out to the Press Room and tell them the idea came from you.  It'll embarrass the crap out of your boss and you'll be on Hotjobs by nightfall.

[THE WHITE HOUSE. TOBY’S OFFICE]  

TOBY: There's someone in my office.  

RINA: I thought it was your ex-wife.  

TOBY: You didn’t want to warn me about that?  

RINA: You asked her to come in.

ANDREA: She's cute.  

TOBY: Late some night, our eyes’ll meet over the maritime commission report. We'll be at the Justice of the Peace before dawn.  You want to talk about this dog and pony show you're attending in Gaza?  

ANDREA: Not really. Bradford Shelton.  

TOBY: He's on the list. You're not going to Gaza.  

ANDREA: I still don't want to talk about it.  

TOBY: You're not attending peace talks with a bunch of Israelis and Palestinians who don't work for the Israeli or Palestinian governments.  

ANDREA: They may generate some useful ideas.  

TOBY: The ideas already exist. The problem is getting the recognized parties to stick to the plan.  

ANDREA: So we sit with our hands folded?  

TOBY: We asked them for democracy. We should maintain some scrap of respect for the guys who are democratically elected.  

ANDREA: If you're really interested in peace, you negotiate with anyone.  You negotiate with the mailman.  

TOBY: Thanks for tee-ing that up. The mailman can't deliver.  

ANDREA: We'll see.  

TOBY: No, we won't see. You're jeopardizing this country's relationship with the Likud party and with the Palestinian authority, and it is not an option.  

ANDREA: Is that all you've got? There’s no “and what about the kids?”  

TOBY: Did something happen?

ANDREA: I'm going away for two weeks.  

TOBY: Will they be...?  

ANDREA: At my mothers...  

TOBY: Good.  

ANDREA: Would you have asked?

TOBY: I figured your mother’s, which is apparently....  

ANDREA: You say you want to be involved. It doesn't come with an embossed invitation. You involve yourself or you don't.  

TOBY: The President would like to remind you that this is a fact-finding mission. Please make it clear to any parties that you meet with that you are not empowered to negotiate for the United States.  

[OUTSIDE C.J.’S OFFICE]  

JOSH: Is she in there?  

CAROL: Hang on. She's getting off....  [C.J. laughs loudly through the door]  the phone.... [into speaker phone] you want Josh?  

C.J.: Lord knows I do! Josh Lyman as I live and breathe!  You want a cookie?  They're from Donna's mother.  

JOSH: I spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

C.J.: What did she say?  

JOSH: I don't want to talk about it. I'm hiding from Toby.  

C.J.: [giggles] Nothing. You're hiding. It's funny.  

JOSH: It's not funny.  

TOBY: Hey  

C.J.: [laughs] see?  It is.

JOSH: I gotta go.  

TOBY: What's going on?  

JOSH: C.J. has the giggles.

C.J.: It's your deal.  I find it elating.  

TOBY: She stoned?  

C.J.: I'm fine. I just didn't get enough sleep.  

JOSH: You were with Ranger Rick weren't you?  

C.J.: Josh spoke to Lisa Wolfe.

TOBY: She give you a name?  

JOSH: You are a faithless wench.

TOBY: What's the name?  

JOSH: Christopher Mulready.  Wait for it....  

TOBY: Christopher MULREADY????!!!!

JOSH: There it is.  

C.J.: He’s not the....  

TOBY: American's Democrats - The triumphant of Socialism.  

JOSH: He doesn't like the name.

TOBY: The man wrote a book that flushes the entire doctrine of un-enumerated rights down the -

C.J.: Toilet.  

TOBY: …garbage disposal. No right to use a condom. No right to get an abortion, certainly. No protection from electronic searches. No substantive due process.  

C.J.: He's what, 48?  

JOSH: I know.  

C.J.: The left's going to blow a gasket!  

TOBY: No separation of church and state.  

JOSH: We got problems on the right too.  Kogan, Howard, Tondello.  They can't vote for a Mulready.  Their constituencies are too moderate.  

TOBY: Get another name.  

JOSH: That is the name.  

TOBY: There are other....  

JOSH: This is the deal. He's what Evelyn Lang is to them. We nominate the patron saint of a woman's right to choose for Chief Justice. We ask them to ignore an incredibly rich piece of her personal history. We take the name they give us.  

TOBY: This isn't going to work.

JOSH: Yeah.  

TOBY: It isn't.  

[JOSH'S OFFICE]  

TOBY: If --- if we were going to try this, what would be the plan?  

JOSH: We give the President and Leo the name. We bring Christopher Mulready in. We bring Lang back in, hopefully the two of them woo the pants off the President. And he agrees to the deal without noticing he's standing in the gaze of history, pantless.  

TOBY: I'll talk to him.  

JOSH: You don't have to talk to him.  

TOBY: You have been on about this. It sounds more plausible coming from me. What are you gonna do about the committee?  

JOSH: Lisa Wolfe’s gonna take it to the Chairman.

TOBY: I mean the Democrats. I need to get Senator Pierce on board or you get nobody.  What are you going to do about Pierce?  

RYAN: (singing)'Won't you stay... just a little big longer... '  

DONNA: Stop.  

TOBY: I thought you were firing him?  

JOSH: If wishing made it so. Donna! Send in Elvis.

RYAN: What's up?  

JOSH: Come on in, take a load off.  I was a little, ah, brusque with you before. I'm sorry about that.  

RYAN: Okay.  

JOSH Your feelings a little hurt?

RYAN: Not at all  

JOSH: Really? Why not?  

RYAN: Would this be easier if they were?  

JOSH: I said I was going to fire you if it wasn't for....  

RYAN: Are you?  Firing me?  

JOSH: No.  

RYAN: Then there's a “sticks and stones” thing that comes to mind.  

[OUTSIDE OVAL OFFICE]

TOBY: Finishing a call. I spoke to Andy.  

LEO: Anything?  

TOBY: No. The National Security Caucus is sponsoring the delegation. We could talk to them.  

LEO: We'll deal with it next week. Don't worry about it.  

TOBY: We got a name for Brady's seat.  

LEO: Somebody workable?  

DEBBIE: You can go in now.  

LEO: Thank you.

(OVAL OFFICE)

BARTLET: MULREADY!  

TOBY: That's the name.  

BARTLET: No! Are you out of your bloody mind?  

TOBY: Let's sit down and talk about this.  

BARTLET: The last time I heard Christopher Mulready's name it was in conjunction with a treatise over the rights of incorporation, and some sort of baloney about the stranglehold the EPA has placed on the endangered species list…

ACT FOUR  

(THURSDAY)

[DONNA’S CUBICLE]

JOSH: Ryan in here yet?  

DONNA: Not yet.  

CHARLIE: Chris Mulready?  

JOSH: Yeah  

CHARLIE: Dissented on minority set asides. Struck down hate crime legislation. Went after miranda rights. Feeling pretty good about that?  

JOSH: It's not a perfect plan.  I'm the first to admit.  

CHARLIE: The President wants to reiterate, he’s not spending more than five minutes with this clown.

C.J.: The press room is clear. Carol is going to babysit the filing shop.  But keep an eye out for roving reporters.  

CHARLIE: You're in on this too?

JOSH: We got Lang coming in to meet the President at 7.  Christopher Mulready is at 8.  The press can't see him. We need a clear shot from the Roosevelt room to the Oval.  

DONNA: He's on the short list?

JOSH: He is if she is. We may get both.  

DONNA: Oh my god. You're putting my mother's cats on the Supreme Court.  

C.J.: You're what?  

JOSH: It's just an experiment. She’s on sentry.  We’re good.

TOBY: Hi.  

JOSH: Don't ever tell anyone that story.  

TOBY: We all settled?  

C.J.: Lefty’s got the goods.  Rocko got the call.  Stinky's on lookout.  

DONNA Hey!  

RYAN: Shall we?  

JOSH: Your uncle’s here?

C.J.: Knock 'em dead. Pierce’ll never buy it, will he?  

TOBY: Nope.

RYAN: Remember, he's all bark.  Just let him holler and wear himself out.  He's got the strength. You've got the endurance.  Here.  [hands over bottle of scotch]. Use it wisely and for God's sake, don't try to keep up.  You're way out of your league.  

JOSH: Not necessary.  Thank you.

(MURAL ROOM)

SENATOR PIERCE: Good to see you, Josh.  

JOSH: Senator Pierce, thank you so much for stopping in.  

RYAN: Josh was pretty impressed with your floor speech on Tuesday.  

PIERCE: Josh can kiss up all on his own.  Get back to work.  

RYAN: Yell if you need anything.

PIERCE: My nephew behaving?

JOSH: He's a… treat.

PIERCE: Well, he better be.  Bugged me for two years to get him a job in this place.  

JOSH: Really?

PIERCE: Watch yourself, he's a lean and hungry type.  Have someone taste your food.  

JOSH: Ryan?

PIERCE: So!  Craziest rumor you ever heard running around the committee.

JOSH: Oh, yeah?

PIERCE: Charlie Felson says you want to put Chris Mulready on the Supreme Court. I said anybody who tries is going to find himself in a closed session with myself, the minority leader, and the business end of a two-by-four.  

JOSH: You know, we got a 21year old Glenlivet knocking around here. Can I get you a drink?  

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]  

C.J.: Lang still in there?  

DEBBIE: Oh, she's a big hit.

C.J.: She has to leave. Her evil twin Skippy is on his way.  

DEBBIE: I did our secret wrap-it-up sign, which is, I knock and say 'The deputy NSA needs to talk about Japan' and he said 'you talk to him, you've been there' which is true. But it makes me think he's forgotten it's a secret sign.  

C.J.: How about "Excuse me Mr. President we need to move on"?  

DEBBIE: If you want the job, you're going to have to work on your typing.  

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]  

TOBY: Apologies.  He's running behind schedule.  

MULREADY: I imagine that happens.  You want to tell me what I'm doing here?

TOBY: Oh, just a hello.  

MULREADY:  I'm not being impeached?  

TOBY: No.  

MULREADY:  This isn’t a not-particularly-subtle form of intimidation about the gays in the workplace case?  

TOBY: That would be illegal.

MULREADY:  My point exactly.  

TOBY: The President will explain....any minute now.  

MULREADY: Hm.

TOBY: But since you mention it, I read your article on Bellington, and I may be out on the fringe here, but I - I don't see how a family values conservative justifies denying committed couples access to the benefits of state sanctioned monogamy.  

MULREADY:  Homosexual couples.  

TOBY: Couples. A couple is a couple.  

[C.J.'S OFFICE]  

JOSH: Hi.  

C.J.: How was Ryan's uncle?

JOSH: He's a blast. Come meet him.

C.J.: He's still here? Oh my God!  You're drunk!  

JOSH: I think I just promised him a pork barrel roads project on an omnibus bill that doesn't exist. Don't try and keep up.  He's got a wooden – a hollow leg. He drinks a lot.  

[ROOSEVELT ROOM]  

TOBY: It's an equal protection violation.  

MULREADY:  Homosexuals are not a suspect class.  

TOBY: D.O.M.A. denies access.

MULREADY:  No.  

TOBY: To over 1,000 federal protections.  

MULREADY:  To what?  

TOBY: Survivor benefits under Social Security.  

MULREADY:  $255.00? I'll write you a check.  

TOBY: Hospital decision making.

MULREADY:  So talk about power of attorney, not marriage. Besides, the fact that D.O.M.A. doesn't restrict access to marriage.  

TOBY: Of course it restricts access. It restricts full faith and credit.  

MULREADY:  So, Vermont gets to steer nationwide marriage legislation? Vermont?

LANG: Well, this is a sight to see! One of the more unlikely meetings in the history of the Bartlet White House.  

MULREADY:  It's good to see you, Evie.  

LANG: You too, Chris.  I came to say goodbye. I wish I had a camera.

MULREADY:  Mr. Ziegler was trying to convince me that the Defense of Marriage Act is unconstitutional.  

LANG: Oh, D.O.M.A.?  He was trying to convince you?

TOBY: What?  

LANG: He doesn't need convincing.

TOBY: I wasn't doing it because...

LANG: He was yanking your chain. He would never uphold D.O.M.A.  He may not love the idea of gay marriage, but he hates congressional overreaching, and Congress doesn't have the power to legislate marriage.  The issue isn't privacy.  

MULREADY: Or equal protection.

LANG: It's enumerated powers. He'll have an easier time knocking down D.O.M.A. than I will.  

MULREADY:  Lack of imagination on your part, if I may be so bold.

TOBY: You were yanking my chain?

MULREADY:  You called me in for a meeting with a Democratic president in the middle of the night.  Are you really going to give me crap about yanking your chain?

LANG: Josh Lyman is gesticulating wildly.  

TOBY: Excuse me.  

[HALLWAY]  

TOBY: Where's the Senator?  

JOSH: He's in with C.J.. He got me a little drunk.  

TOBY: Is he leaving?  

JOSH: I think he's getting C.J. a little drunk. How's it going?  

TOBY: He's striking down gay marriage bans and she's defending him and they're as thick as thieves and he's a fan of chain yanking.  

JOSH: She's defending him?  

TOBY: Down is down, down is up.

LANG: I am not... no I am not rewriting Article 1. What I am saying is that a gun free school zone...

MULREADY:  Is not a federal issue. In Lopez…  

LANG: Lopez overturned 50 years of precedent.  

MULREADY:  Too bad, they ruled a plain text reading of the commerce clause, does not afford Congress...  

LANG: A plain text reading of the Constitution values a “negro” at three-fifths of a man.  

MULREADY:  Hence the 13th, 14th and 15th Amendments.  

LANG: Oh, generous. Thank you.

MULREADY: The relationship between guns and schools and interstate commerce is... is...  

LANG: You don't think that the quality of education has a direct affect on the economic...  

[DEBBIE'S OFFICE]  

TOBY: Is he?  

DEBBIE: Waiting to meet a man you're holding hostage in the Roosevelt room.

(MURAL ROOM)

C.J. AND PIERCE: Oh and while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown, the courtroom was adjourned, no verdict was returned…

JOSH: Ok... ok.... Everyone needs to put down their glasses and pay attention.  

[OVAL OFFICE]  

BARTLET: You like him.  

TOBY: I hate him. I hate him, but he's brilliant. And the two of the them together, they’re fighting like cats and dogs, but it works.  

[MURAL ROOM]

PIERCE: You couldn't find a single warm-blooded centrist to put on the court?  

JOSH: We've got centrists. We've got six of them plus two staunch conservatives plus Justice Ashland. The one clarion voice articulating a liberal vision. He's going to go and then what?

[OVAL OFFICE]

BARTLET: Well, send him in....

TOBY: Sir…  

BARTLET: I said I'll listen to him, Toby. That's going to have to do it.  

[HALLWAY]

DONNA: Toby.  

TOBY: What?  

DONNA: Nothing's happening.

TOBY: Hang on.

DONNA: That's him?  

TOBY: Yeah.  

DONNA: No tail.  No cloven hooves.  

[OVAL OFFICE]  

DEBBIE: Judge Mulready.  

BARTLET: Thanks for coming in.

MULREADY:  It's an honor sir.  

BARTLET: Please.  I understand that you and Judge Lang had a bit of a knock-down-drag-out.  

MULREADY:  She wants to federalize law enforcement.  

BARTLET: Yeah.  

MULREADY:  I thought it was hasty.  

BARTLET: Not your brand of judge?

MULREADY:  Quite the opposite.  I haven't had that much fun in months.  

BARTLET: Really?  

MULREADY:  Use her, if you can. I'm not sure what all this is about.  I suppose a number of people are placated by a glimpse of someone like her or someone like me in these halls. I'm most certainly here for that.  But if there’s anyway that you can use her…  

BARTLET: It's unlikely.  

MULREADY:  Who's at the top of the list?   ... If I leaked it, would they believe me?  

BARTLET: Brad Shelton.  

MULREADY:  Really?  

BARTLET: You don't like him?

MULREADY:  He's a fine jurist. And in the event that Carmine, Lafayette, Hoyt, Clarke and Brannaghan all drop dead, the center will still be well tended.  

BARTLET: You want another Brady?

MULREADY:  Sure, just like you'd like another Ashland - who wouldn't?  The court was at its best when Brady was fighting Ashland.  

BARTLET: Plenty of good law written by the voices of moderation.  

MULREADY:  Who writes the extraordinary dissent? The one man minority opinion whose time hasn't come, but 20 years later some circuit court clerk digs it up at three in the morning.  Brennan railing against censorship.  Harlan's Jeremiad on Jim Crowe.  

BARTLET: Maybe you, some day?

MULREADY:  They can't put me on the court, just like you can't put Evelyn Lang on the court.  It's Sheltons from here on in.  

BARTLET: There are 4,000 protestors outside this building worried about who's going to land in that seat.  We can't afford to alienate all of them.  MULREADY:  We all have our roles to play sir. Yours is to nominate someone who doesn't alienate people.  

(FRIDAY)

(PRESS ROOM)

JOSH: Where's Toby?  

C.J.: Can you see this? [pointing to spot on her blouse]  

JOSH: Yeah.  

C.J.: It's water, it'll dry.

JOSH: Okay.  

TOBY: Ready?  

[on the TV in background...]  

REPORTER ... have gathered around..... Ashland having served 32 years on the United States Supreme Court, 12 of them as Chief will officially announce his retirement in just a moment.

ASHLAND: (at podium, on TV) Henry Staub retired, and I received a phone call, you were probably learning to walk. It's been an honor to pause in Henry Staub's chair, a joy to spend...  

C.J.: (to Bartlet) He’ll take three questions at the most, and then we’re off  .  

LANG:[to Lang] you ready?  [Lang is engrossed in Ashland's announcement] [To C.J.] That's a yes.

MULREADY: So, why a racial preference and not an economic one?  

CHARLIE: Because affirmative action’s about a legacy of racial oppression.  

MULREADY:  It’s about compromising admissions standards.  

CHARLIE: That's bull….excuse me. It's about leveling the playing field after 300 years of…

MULREADY:  See, this is where the liberal argument goes off the rails.  You get stuck in the past. Now you wanna comeback at me with grading is based on past performance, but admission should be based on potential on how a candidate may thrive with this sort of opportunity. And studies show that affirmative action admits have a higher predisposition to contribute to society.  

CHARLIE: Hang on, I gotta write this down.  

BARTLET: Ah-ah-ah.  Hand it over. [to Evelyn] Toby has a daughter, Molly, 10 months old. She's a looker and very bright. And someday he'd like to give her this copy of the 14th Amendment signed by the first woman to ever hold this job.  

LANG: Have you got a...  

TOBY: Oh... [hands her a pen] Would you mind adding that title?  

LANG: That's a bit premature, isn't it?  

BARTLET: No.

TOBY: Thank you.

C.J.: Mr. President.  

BARTLET: Shall we? [at the podium]

C.J.: Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.  

BARTLET: The honorable Christopher Mulready, nominee for Associate Justice - United States Supreme Court. The honorable Evelyn Baker Lang, nominee for Chief Justice - United States Supreme Court. I look forward to taking your questions.

THE END

#The West Wing #the supremes #west wing supremes #west wing transcript #west wing script #evelyn baker lang #president bartlet #i love her mind i love her shoes

[kileyrose-2003]

Snakebite Andi x Fem Child! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies. This request was submitted by @trueknotlover who Tumblr will not let me tag because it wants to be a pain. Same with why there is no more read more on this. This is first time I've ever really written anything like this with Andi and a child so I hope you enjoy it. Love you all and hope everything is well.

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse

"..Y/n, what are you doing?"

"Quiet, Y/b/n! He's going to hear us!"

"You're worried about him hearing you? I'd be more worried about him seeing you. You know how dad gets when he drinks. He's nasty." You shushed your brother. "I know but-"

"What the hell are you two doing in there and still up?" You tensed up and your brother squeezed your shoulder. "Go!"

"What?" You asked. "Go! Now! Leave! Because I have a feeling he's going to go more off the hinges than normal." You started crying. "But I don't want to leave you.."

Your brother shushed you and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll be fine, okay? Just go!" He let go of your hand and opened up to the window for you step onto the fire escape.

His bedroom door was shaking from your father's rage and you knew it would be long before he got in. Your brother gently lifted you outside and set you down on the metal platform. "Now go! Before anyone sees you." Tears once again started flowing down your cheek and you nodded. "T-thank you." You started climbing down the rickety, old stairs. Hot tears still freshly flowing from your eyes.

'This isn't real. This has to be a dream.' You kept telling yourself over and over. Your life wasn't always like this. The four years of your life were similar to that of any other child.

You had a loving mother and father who always made sure you were cared for and you never felt unloved. That all changed though once you started kindergarten. From the time you were little your mother always told you you were special. You could lift objects with the slightest tap of your mind and reading other peoples thought.

'It's a gift' You could remember her telling you but it wasn't one to be taken lightly. You always had to hide yourself from people. Your true self. The more you grew, the more powerful you became and people became afraid of you for it. It caused strains on your parent's relationship and finally your mother could take no more.

All that was left of her when you woke up the next morning was the clothes she hadn't taken with her, laying scattered on the bed and a wedding band on the kitchen counter. Your dad tried to be support for a while but finally he hit the end of his rope to and the rest was history.

As your tiny bare feet touched the ground you could hear the sound of a gun shot coming from your apartment and you let out a sob. Not having to be in the room to know what happened.

You let out a sob of anguish and screamed. "This is wrong! This is all so wrong!" As you pulled at your hair a trash can that was in the alley flew off to the side. You jumped at the result of your outburst and breathed shakily.

'Control yourself, Y/n.' You tried to tell yourself. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder and you let out a scream. "Sorry, sorry!" You furrowed your brows. You didn't know anyone with that voice.

You turned around seen a pretty girl with blonde hair, probably about 7 or 8 years older than you with a snake tattoo on her upper arm. She looked you up and down as if she analyzing you and knelt down to your level. "What's your name?" She asked sweetly. "Y/n."

"Y/n. That's a pretty name. I'm Andrea. You can call me Andi though, if you want." You sniffled and nodded. "N-nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." She attempted to pull you into a hug but you tensed up, shrugging her away. "I-i'm sorry. I don't like people touching me."

"It's okay. I understand how you feel. I was a lot like you once." You sniffled and wiped your eyes. "You do?" She grabbed a tissue to wipe your face off with. "I do. I know what's it like to be different and have others be afraid of you for it. To have people hurt you for it."

"I-i'm not hurt." Andi almost hard to resist the urge to laugh. "Honey, if you think I'm going to buy the whole you tripped and fell downstairs things I won't. I was your age once. How old are you, Y/n?"

"Eight." She ran a finger across your cheek. Same age her dad started hitting her. Andi let out a sigh and pieces of herself inside you. She seen that girl. The scared little girl who was afraid to tell anyone the truth because she didn't want to get hurt anymore she already was. That little girl was afraid and full of rage.

She wasn't that little girl anymore though and she didn't want you to spend the rest of your life in that little girl's shadow either.

Andi brushed a piece of hair away from your eye and stared at you. "You're special, aren't you Y/n?"

"I-i don't know what you're talking about." You tried to get her off your case but you could tell Andi wasn't buying it. "Oh yes you do."

(You can hear me, right?)

Your whole body felt cold at the sound of her voice in your mind and you tensed up. "You can-"

"Do that? Yes, I can. I'm special, Y/n. Just like you and there's even more of us that are like you too." Your eyes widened. "There are?"

"There are. How would you like a family, Y/n? A family who is going to love you and appreciate you all the more for how special you are?"

Tears started brimming in your eyes and Andi wiped them away. "No, no. No tears. All you have to do is come with me and all this pain will go away."

"I-i-" Andi wiped your tears away. "What's the matter, Y/n?" She asked softly. "Promise me I can trust them? I'm just afraid of getting hurt again. Because I feel like every time I trust someone they always end up hurting me."

"You don't have to worry about that with them. I promise and you know I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. Ever."

"You swear?" You asked softly. "I swear." You thought about her offer for a moment and nodded. "Okay..I'll come with you." Andi smiled and pulled you into a hug. "Good." She scooped you up and your arms and began to walk out of the alley. "Where are we going?"

"Home. Now, I just need you to do one thing for me sweetie?" You nodded. "Yes, Andi?"

"Sleep." You felt her hands poking around in your mind and you let out a whine. "Andi, I-i don't like that," You protested. "It's okay, Y/n. Just sleep. That's all you need to do. Sleep deeper."

As your vision began to blur you could see a woman with a top hat in the distance. "You took a while." Despite the blurriness in your vision, you could make out she was a pretty woman.

"I wanted to make sure it was what she wanted." You heard the top hat woman make a humming noise. "Good. Because I wouldn't be pleased if we had to return her to that place. Now hand her over, Andi."

Andi did as she was told and Rose took you into her arm. You felt a pinch in the side of your neck and you winced. "It's alright honey..soon enough you'll be home. Now sleep."

...

You didn't know what happened after that. You could vaguely remember either Andi or Rose setting you on a soft bed and seeing bohemian wall art but after that, every went black.

What felt like hours later you woke up to a dry sensation in your throat, your breath jagged and hot tears streaming down your face from a nightmare.

"Hey, hey..it's alright." You whimpered and buried your face in the pillow, rocking yourself back and forth on the bed. "He hurt me! He hurt me!" You sobbed over and over and Andi petted your hair. "Shhh..it's alright. He's gone now and he can't hurt you anymore..it's alright."

Andi swiped the few tears off your face that wasn't soaking into the pillow and carefully began to lift you up into her arms. "W-what are you doing?" She shushed you and carefully began to pull you into a hug. "Just relax, Y/n." You shook your head. Andi! I d-don't like it!" You tried to pull away from her but Andi kept pushing. "Y/n, listen to me."

You shook your head frantically, keeping at your squirming. "You want to listen to me." You could feel her poking around in your head and slowly you began to listen. "It's okay. See, I'm not hurting you. All I'm doing is hugging you. Okay?"

"O-okay," You hyperventilated. "That's all it is. It's a hug. Just relax. You want to relax." Your body began to grow limp and Andi rocked you back and forth in her arms as she embraced you. "See? It's alright. I'm not hurting you. I'm just comforting you. Okay?"

"O-okay.." You hugged the older girl tightly and let out a sob of pain and relief. "P-promise me you won't leave me?" You whined. "Never." You held onto her tightly, trying to calm yourself down.

 “You can trust me Y/N. I know how many people have told you that and that they've hurt you, but trust me when I say this. That will never happen here. You are now surrounded by people who are gonna love you and you more then worthy of that. You deserve that.” She kisses your temples as she held you. "Are you ready to meet the others?"

You gave a slight nod and held onto Andi tightly as she carried you outside. The sun was shining bright and through the glare you could a small group of people looking at you with smiling faces. Despite the short amount of time you knew Andi, you couldn’t help but feel as if you could trust her. As if she already knew your life story and understood you. You felt safe for the first time in a while. You felt at home.

#snakebite andi #imagines #imagine #x child reader #doctor sleep #dr sleep

[mksc77]

For the winter/Christmas prompt list, 73 please. Thank you 💜

Thanks so much for the ask, @ila9182! I’m sorry for the early morning (for you) notification!

73–“Hey, you were the one who insisted on throwing a Christmas party, even when I told you it’d be a nightmare to plan!”

Nicole’s stepsons are younger here than suggested by canon, and I aged Marie and gave Emily another child for this one :)

On the Friday before Christmas, Sharon cleaned and started getting the house ready for the Christmas party they were hosting the following night. It was mostly pointless, as they were keeping Emily’s five-year-old and eighteen-month old, who could wreak havoc on a clean house in a matter of seconds. Emily’s ballet studio had a performance of The Nutcracker, and Emmett was out of town for work until the day before Christmas Eve, so Sharon and Andy had grandparent duty.

Sharon looked up as Andy came in with Liam in his arms and holding Marie’s hand. Liam immediately pointed to the freezer, knowing there were popsicles there. Andy, being Andy, was quick to oblige and went ahead and got out two, knowing Marie would be demanding one when she saw Liam’s. Liam then pointed to the drawer that held the scissors. “You’re getting too smart.” Andy retrieved the scissors and cut both popsicles.

“You guys haven’t even eaten lunch yet, and it is December,” Sharon pointed out.

Andy rolled his eyes. “Says the woman who bought more popsicles yesterday.”

“Says the man who asks ‘what color do you want’ the second one of them even looks in the general direction of the freezer,” Sharon shot back.

Popsicle in hand, Liam grinned and reached for her, and she happily took him before kneeling to give Marie a hug. “Hi, my darlings.” They had watched The Polar Express at St. Joseph’s that morning, so they were both in pajamas. Andy had only worked a half-day, so he’d picked them up early. After passing the baby to Sharon, he went back to the car to bring in the lunch he’d brought home for her and the kids.

Marie was bouncing around, hyped up from hot chocolate at preschool and being excited about Christmas. Liam just tapped at Sharon’s face and grinned at her before lying on her shoulder and rubbing his eyes. Sharon kissed the top of his head, inhaling his sweet baby smell. “I think you’re probably overdue for a nap.”

After lunch, Sharon sat in the recliner with a drowsy Liam to put him down for a nap. By the time she laid him down in the pack’n play and was back in the living room, Marie was almost asleep in Andy’s lap, watching the Christmas Disney Sing Along video that had been a hit when Emily and Ricky were small. Well, she’d upgraded the worn-out VHS to a newer DVD when Marie was old enough to enjoy it, but the familiar scenes were the same.

Sharon got a blanket from the back of the couch and kissed Marie’s forehead before draping it over her and tucking it around her shoulders. “I don’t need a nap,” she drowsily protested.

“Nobody said you have to take a nap, honey,” Sharon answered, knowing she’d be asleep in just a few minutes.

Andy rocked Marie for a few minutes after she fell asleep before laying her on the couch and tucking her in. He looked around the kitchen after helping Sharon clean up from lunch. “How are we going to keep the house party-ready with these two tornadoes?”

Sharon shrugged. “We’ll just have to pick up after them and not let them do anything that makes too big of a mess, as much as I know how you hate to say no. The hard cleaning part is done.” She went to the kitchen to start getting food ready for the next day. “Put the balls up, please,” she said referring to the decorative Christmas balls in a bowl on an end table in the living room that Liam loved to play with.

Andy stuck his head back into the kitchen. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. I could take that so many ways.”

“The Christmas ones on the table that Liam will destroy if they’re in his reach.”

Andy sighed, looking dejected. “My interpretation was better.”

A few hours of naps, movies, and messes later, Sharon changed Liam’s diaper and carried him back to the living room. “Gammy,” Marie whined, reaching for her from Andy’s lap.

Sharon switched places and kids with Andy and sat with her in the recliner. “My goodness, you’re clingy today! Are you feeling okay?” She brushed Marie’s hair to one side and put her hand under her chin. Her eyes looked a little weak, but she wasn’t feverish. Marie shrugged and buried her face into Sharon’s side. “Let’s try to eat a little bit of dinner, and then we’ll find another movie to watch,” Sharon suggested, thinking she might just be a little homesick. She cradled Marie in her arms and watched Liam fiddle around while Andy finished getting dinner ready.

A little while later, Marie just stared at her plate and pushed her food around for a few minutes before turning to Sharon. “Gammy, I don’t feel good.”

Sharon pushed her chair back and held her arms out. “Come here, let Gammy see.” Marie slowly walked around the table and climbed into her lap. Sharon ran her fingers through her hair before resting her hand on her forehead. “Hmm, you feel a little warm. Where does it hurt?”

“My tummy,” Marie sniffled.

Please don’t be a stomach virus, please don’t be a stomach virus—Sharon’s silent pleading came to an abrupt halt when Marie started gagging. Trying not to recoil or gag herself, she calmly reached for her plate and repositioned it in front of the little girl’s face. “Rag, Andy, please,” she requested, rubbing Marie’s back and pulling her hair back from her face. “It’s all right, baby.” She rolled her eyes when Andy appeared at her side with a rag straight from the kitchen drawer. “A wet rag.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Andy dampened the cloth and brought it back.

Sharon wiped Marie’s cheeks and patted her back until she was finished, then brushed the cloth over her mouth. “Here, sweetheart.” She held her glass of water to her mouth and let her take a couple of sips. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and Sharon’s heart was breaking for her.

“I feel yucky,” Marie pouted, pressing her face into Sharon’s shoulder.

“I know you do. Let’s take a quick bath and put your pjs on, and then we’ll watch Rudolph.” Abandoning her own dinner, Sharon carried Marie to their bathroom and started the bathwater before getting her undressed. She was learning to bathe herself, but Sharon did it for her this time, then dried her off and helped her into clean panties and a nightgown.

“How’s your tummy feeling?” Sharon asked as they settled in the recliner. Marie shrugged and lay on her shoulder, not paying the movie any attention. She was starting to drift off not long after that, so Sharon helped her get ready for bed and tucked her in. “Night-night, honey. Get Papa or me up if you wake up tonight and still feel yucky or need anything. We’ll be right here with you.” She kissed her forehead and lay down with her, running her fingers along her back until she was asleep.

After a long night of being up and down with Marie, they were both finally sleeping well when Sharon heard Liam cooing through the monitor. The pack’n play was usually in Sharon’s and Andy’s room, but they’d set it up in the guest room the night before to keep him away from Marie. Andy was snoring without a care in the world, as he’d done all night, and Sharon was exhausted and just wanted to scream. She impatiently nudged Andy until he finally opened his eyes. “What?” He mumbled.

“Please go get Liam. I’ve been up with Marie all night.”

Andy looked surprised. “You have?”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Yes, and she’s finally feeling a little better.”

“Sorry, but you could’ve woken me up to help.” Andy kissed her before going to get Liam up.

Sharon woke up again a couple of hours later and realized Emily was there, so she went ahead and got up. She could hear her and Andy talking, and she shook her head when she heard Andy say “we were up all night with her.”

“Um, we?” She gave Andy an incredulous look as she entered the kitchen.

“Shit, I didn’t know you were awake,” Andy muttered.

For the next few hours, the adults took turns entertaining the kids and getting the house party-ready. Marie had woken up feeling much better and was a ball of energy. Sharon was starting to panic by 3:00, afraid they weren’t going to be ready. Andy had just ignored her the first few times she snapped at him, but she finally did it one too many times. “Hey, you were the one who insisted on throwing a Christmas party, even when I told you it’d be a nightmare to plan!” He sputtered.

“I know,” Sharon admitted, “but I like having all of our friends in one place. That doesn’t happen unless we have a party for something.”

They managed to pull it together, and the party was in full swing a few hours later. With several children being in attendance, Andy had rented a Santa suit, and they slipped away from the party so Sharon could help him into it.

“So, uh, when do you have to take this back?” Sharon asked suggestively.

Andy grinned. “You have a thing for Santa? I never would’ve guessed that.”

Sharon clasped her hands behind his neck and gently pulled him toward her so she could kiss him. It was intended to just be a peck, but they quickly got carried away. She reluctantly pulled away from him a few minutes later. “All right, we should get back to the party before Santa gets too jolly.”

On Sunday morning, Sharon looked up from her coffee when Emily came in with Liam and Marie. They’d spent the night after the party. “Morning, darlings.” She kissed each of them on the forehead, but Marie stepped back immediately after and wiped her skin where Sharon had kissed her. “Don’t kiss me,” she said irritably.

“Okay, excuse me,” Sharon responded good-naturedly. “What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes?”

“I’m not speaking to you, Gammy,” Marie announced.

“Marie Catherine Baker!” Emily nudged her toward the guest room. “Go sit in our room until you’re ready to speak to Gammy and apologize.”

Sharon started to follow her, but Emily stopped her. “No, she’ll come back when she’s hungry enough. Or when she has to eat so we’ll have time to get dressed for mass.”

“It’s okay, Em, maybe she’s still not feeling well.”

Emily shook her head. “She’s fine, and that’s still no excuse for her to be rude. She’s been a pill since last night. I resorted to threatening her with Santa, but she said she didn’t want him to come.”

Sharon refilled her coffee, stopping to look at Emily’s and Emmett’s Christmas card from the year before. She’d put every card since Marie was a baby on the refrigerator when she decorated for Christmas. In the card that caught her eye, Marie and Liam were sitting in Santa’s lap, both screaming and reaching for Emily and Emmett off-camera. Emily had thought it was hilarious and used it for their Christmas cards, captioned with ‘You better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why.’

“Do you think she’s afraid of Santa again?” Sharon asked. “Now that I think about it, she wouldn’t go near Andy last night when he was in the costume,” she added in a low voice.

Emily shrugged. “Even if she is, that doesn’t explain why she’s in such an ill mood.”

A few minutes later, Andy couldn’t stand it anymore and sneaked back to the bedroom where Marie had been banished. He sat on the bed and pulled her into his lap. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” Marie shook her head. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you and Gammy to get a divorce,” she answered seriously.

Andy was taken aback, not expecting anything like that. “We won’t, honey, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You promise?”

Andy offered his pinky finger. “Pinky swear.”

Marie’s eyes widened. That was serious. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I saw Gammy kissing somebody else last night.”

Andy smiled. “Gammy kissed several people on the cheek—“

“No, it wasn’t, like, a cheek kiss. I saw her put her tongue in his mouth, and his hands were on her hiney,” she insisted. “Yuck.”

Andy didn’t think about the possibility of Marie seeing them, but he knew she was somehow mistaken. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who looks like Gammy? Mrs. Caroline kind of looks like her from behind.” Marie shook her head. “Do you know who it was?” Andy asked, still knowing it wasn’t true, but trying to figure out what she had seen so he could explain it.

Marie nodded gravely. “She was kissing Santa.”

“What?…Oh.” Andy’s mind raced as he tried to come up with an explanation. Not wanting to give anything away, he decided to consult with Sharon and Emily first. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He went back to the kitchen and relayed the conversation. Sharon laughed until tears were streaming down her cheeks, but Emily looked disgusted. “Ugh, Rusty and Ricky are so lucky they’re still asleep,” she muttered. After explaining that Gammy wasn’t kissing the real Santa and that Andy had just been playing and dressing up like him, all was forgiven.

The following Tuesday evening, Sharon and Andy cooked Christmas Eve dinner for three of their five collective children. Emily and Emmett were with Emmett’s parents, and Nicole, Dean, and their boys were a last-minute addition with Sandra and her husband having the flu. Drew was with his girlfriend’s family. Nicole and Dean usually stayed the night with Sandra on Christmas Eve and had accepted Sharon’s and Andy’s invitation to do so with them since their plans had changed, and they were thrilled with the prospect of having kids in the house on Christmas morning. Once the boys were in bed, Sharon and Andy helped them set up “Santa” before retiring, themselves.

Sharon was just drifting off when Andy poked her. “You asleep yet?”

“I was,” Sharon mumbled.

“I’m too excited to sleep,” Andy whined. “The boys are going to be so excited in the morning, I can’t wait!”

Andy did manage to fall asleep, but he was poking Sharon again before dawn on Christmas morning. “What?” Sharon sleepily demanded.

“It’s morning! Let’s get the kids up.”

Sharon struggled to open her eyes and looked at the clock on her nightstand. “Andy, it’s 5:00!”

“I can’t go back to sleep. Please?!”

“Oh, all right.” Sharon stumbled out of bed and tied her robe around her nightgown. Yawning widely and cussing Andy under her breath, she went straight to the coffee pot. “I don’t advise waking them up if the coffee’s not ready,” she warned.

Andy impatiently waited for the pot to start filling up, then bolted to the boys’ room. Sharon rolled her eyes when she heard little feet patter into the guest room as Andy returned to the kitchen, the picture of innocence. She plugged in the Christmas tree lights and switched on the gas logs, almost as eager as Andy now for the boys to come in.

“Stay here until you hear Christmas music,” Nicole’s sleepy reminder to the boys sounded from the hall. She and Dean were both confused to find Sharon and Andy awake and the coffee already prepared, but they were too drowsy to connect the dots or bother asking questions. “What’s gotten into them? They’ve never gotten up this early before,” Nicole muttered as she gratefully accepted a mug of coffee from Sharon.

Sharon figured that the truth behind the early wake-up time would be revealed soon enough, so she didn’t rat Andy out just yet. “I’ll start the music when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” Nicole sipped her coffee and got her phone set to video. “Okay, go ahead.”

Sharon started her Christmas playlist on Google Home, and the boys stampeded down the hall as soon as they heard the first chords of Baby, It’s Cold Outside. At six and four, their bouncing excitement was contagious and a joy to watch. Sharon curled up on the couch with Andy, happily watching the boys exclaim over everything. It had been a long time since she’d had kids in the house small enough to wake up so early on Christmas, and she was enjoying the coziness of the early morning and Christmas music.

It wasn’t long before Ricky and Rusty trudged in, wearing their matching pajama pants and rubbing their eyes. “They couldn’t have waited a couple more hours?” Ricky grumbled.

Rusty rolled his eyes. “It was probably Andy that couldn’t wait. He’s the biggest child in this room.”

The guilty expression on Andy’s face gave him away. “Ugh, really, Dad?” Nicole moaned. “I should’ve known.”

Ricky looked down at the pajama pants he and Rusty had unwrapped the night before. “When will we be too old for matching Christmas pajamas?”

Sharon shook her head. “Never.”

By 8:00, breakfast was over and cleaned up, and the boys wanted to take their toys outside to play. Sharon and Nicole shared the swing, sipping mimosas and wrapped up in blankets, while Andy played in the yard with the kids. He was having as much fun with their toys as they were. They had to drag them inside a few hours later for lunch, but they went right back outside after eating.

Emily and Emmett arrived soon after lunch, after doing Christmas morning and eating an early lunch with Emmett’s parents. Marie ran into the yard to play, but Liam was whimpering and rubbing his eyes. “I think someone’s ready for a nap,” Sharon commented, holding her hands out to Liam. He reached for her and lay on her shoulder after she took him from Emmett. After a couple of minutes of swinging, he was out.

Emily looked out in the yard, where the kids were playing with one toy and Andy was playing with another. “Why is Andy playing with that by himself—never mind, that sounds about right.”

After dinner and opening gifts from one another that night, Emily, Emmett, Ricky, and Rusty sat on the porch while Sharon and Andy put Marie and Liam to bed and finished cleaning up the living room. Christmas to Christmas started playing as Sharon stuffed the last scrap of wrapping paper in a trash bag. Andy took the trash bag from her hands and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head as they swayed along with the music.

Seems like only yesterday

We put our Christmas things away

Now here’s another Christmas day with you

When you’re in love, how time does fly

And this year that’s just flown by

Has been one happy holiday for two

Christmas to Christmas

Wrapped in your arms

Love’s always in season

And always so warm

Till my days on earth are through

I will spend Christmas to Christmas lovin’ you

Sharon lay on Andy’s shoulder, exhausted from the long day. While tiring, the day full of grandchildren and laughter had been perfect. “I know I say this a lot, but I’m so happy,” she murmured.

Andy put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her. “That makes two of us.”

#major crimes #major crimes fanfiction #shandy #mikuscfanfiction

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, July 20

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jeffrey Epstein’s chilling prison confessions 

Page 2: Jennifer Aniston has unfriended scandal-scarred Jimmy Kimmel who has gone into hiding after it was revealed he wore blackface and used the N-word in comedy sketches in the 1990s -- Jen fears standing by him after racism charges could wreck her career 

Page 3: Fading pop icon Cher is living like a recluse behind the walls of her massive Malibu compound -- she’s always been a private person but now she’s verging on agoraphobic 

Page 4: Ben Affleck may be clean and sober but he can’t seem to get the cigarette monkey off his back and his nasty habit is burning up ex-wife Jennifer Garner and she’s demanding he snuff out his unhealthy habit for their children’s sake 

Page 5: Sandra Bullock has been left reeling after her former stepson Jesse Eli James was arrested twice for allegedly violently assaulting his girlfriend, Jack Nicholson has a secret admiration for Adolf Hitler according to his former lover Susanna Moore who said the only time she disagreed with Jack was when he said he admired Hitler for his determination

Page 6: Pauley Perrette has taken another shot at her nemesis Mark Harmon by freezing him out of an NCIS reunion -- she failed to invite Mark when she set up a Zoom get-together with Rocky Carroll and Brian Dietzen and Sasha Alexander and Michael Weatherly that raised money for Project Angel Food 

Page 7: Charlize Theron is the most hated woman in Hollywood after trashing several male A-listers and Tinseltown itself -- she darkens everyone’s day with her scathing opinions and tart-tongued remarks and stubborn refusal to listen to anyone else and she’s losing friends and it’s to the point where no one really likes to work with her -- she insulted Mad Max: Fury Road co-star Tom Hardy and she also bashed ex Sean Penn 

Page 8: Carl Reiner -- life and times of a comedy legend 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Duchess of Cambridge Kate Middleton, Mama June Shannon near a rehab facility in Florida with beau Geno Doak, Tori Spelling gets the mail 

Page 11: Katy Perry’s soon-to-be baby daddy Orlando Bloom has asked Selena Gomez to lose his number because Katy was never comfortable with his “friendship” with Selena but it was Orlando who cut the cord without any prodding to show Katy he’s serious about her and their new baby, Justin Bieber’s clingy controlling ways are suffocating his wife Hailey Bieber prompting her to call a time-out on their marriage 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Shakira (picture), Lea Michele was difficult to work with long before she became a star on Glee; she was on a 1995 episode of The Sally Jessy Raphael Show called I’m a Kid and Already a Star and she was awful even back then, Iman disappeared from public life following the death of her husband David Bowie in 2016 but now friends are urging her to return to the spotlight, Atlanta Housewife NeNe Leakes wants to push Wendy Williams off her talk-show perch and grab it for herself and NeNe has been pushing Bravo to fire Andy Cohen following all the racist comments made by his network’s stars and replace him with her 

Page 13: Bruce Willis is ready to say so long to Hollywood and has moved to Idaho to raise his family, Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are trapped in a part-time marriage -- Kim has been jetting between L.A. and Kanye’s Wyoming ranch where’s he hiding out during the COVID-19 lockdown 

Page 14: True Crime 

Page 15: Wife killer Drew Peterson’s prison rape nightmare 

Page 16: Real Life 

Page 17: Ryan Seacrest and Shayna Taylor are over again and he’s already rebounding with a mystery blonde, Dennis Quaid’s hush-hush wedding to Laura Savoie widened the rift with his 28-year-old son Jack who’s older than his new stepmom 

Page 18: Hollywood’s Worst Serial Cheaters -- Kristen Stewart, Chris Rock

Page 19: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Claire Danes, Tiger Woods, Ozzy Osbourne 

Page 20: Meghan Markle felt Queen Elizabeth snubbed her mother Doria Ragland by not bestowing her with an official title and she’s vowed to fix it herself by buying her mom a title 

Page 22: Health Watch -- cussing up a blue streak really does help ease pain when you get hurt 

Page 26: Taylor Swift facing new stalker nightmare by a religious nut Frank Andrew Hoover who called her Satan and claimed God would kill her and her family, the ex-husband of RHONJ star Dina Manzo hired a Mafia hitman to assault her new squeeze 

Page 28: Cover Story -- Jeffrey Epstein’s prison confession -- cellmate says perv spilled his guts about Prince Andrew and other high-flyers 

Page 36: Dr. Dre was blindsided by his wife Nicole Young filing for divorce after 24 years of marriage and now she’s set to take him to the cleaners, Hollywood Hookups -- Garrett Hedlund and Emma Roberts are expecting their first child, Timothee Chalamet and Eiza Gonzalez are on, Jill Martin and fiance Erik Brooks split 

Page 38: Britney Spears’ little sister Jamie Lynn Spears will likely look after her for the rest of her life -- Britney’s estate and financial assets and some personal assets are controlled by her father and a lawyer in a conservatorship that was recently extended until August 22 but when Britney’s conservatorship is up for renewal everyone thinks Jamie Lynn should take it over 

Page 42: Red Carpet Stars & Stumbles -- Sofia Vergara 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Kristin Chenoweth playing blackjack with boyfriend Josh Bryant 

Page 47: Odd List 

#tabloid #tabloid toc #grain of salt #jeffrey epstein #jennifer aniston #jimmy kimmel #cher #ben affleck #jennifer garner #sandra bullock #jesse eli james #jack nicholson #ncis #pauley perrette #mark harmon #charlize theron #tom hardy #sean penn #carl reiner #orlando bloom #katy perry #selena gomez #justin bieber #hailey bieber #lea michele #iman #nene leakes #bruce willis #kim kardashian #kanye west