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#the third had no idea who he was and we explained the entire history to her. Poor poor girl

qqueenofhades · 2 months

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I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.

There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.

The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:

This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:

I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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beauty-and-passion · 4 months

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Lore Olympus: a golden mine of bad writing

As I said, one post wasn’t enough.

There is still a lot to say about this webcomic and in this post I would like to talk about how Zeus, Apollo and Kronos have been treated. Here I will focus on the first two acts only, because the third act is not over, as well as the story. And yes, that means I will write another post when this whole thing is over.

I wanted to focus on these three gods in particular because are treated in a way that baffles me and makes me question what did they ever do to Mrs. Smythe. Tell me, Rachel: was it something personal? Did they do something to your family? What happened?

But maybe you don’t understand my point, especially if you haven’t read the Greek myths at all and you think that these three are just “Unfaithful Guy”, “Rapist” and “Evil Villain Har Har Who Also Wants To Rape”. Seriously, what’s with this weird obsession with raping everyone and with sex? Did Mrs. Smythe ever see anything else in myths, besides sex?

So please, allow me to explain why their characterizations are wrong and boring - and no, not just from a mythological point of view.

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Zeus: the walking clichè

Making Zeus an asshole is understandable, even if utterly boring and clichè. Oh wow, he's an unfaithful husband and he's vain. Very original. Groundbreaking, I'd say. I’ve never read about him being unfaithful to his wife, not even once in all the 200 million retellings made during the history of mankind.

It's a shame because Zeus is much more than that. He's a mighty ruler with a strong sense of justice: in several myths, he punished the assholes for their wrongdoings. He's very clever and strong. He's also associated with xenia, the custom of offering protection to strangers, which means Zeus is also a protector of foreigners.

I mean, this information alone offers so many new perspectives about him! Just imagine if, instead of hanging around and doing nothing useful aside from being everyone’s favorite punching bag, Zeus fought against every corrupt system of the mortal realm, in order to protect the foreigners and the innocents. It would’ve been so cool to see a different side of him, instead of the same thing over and over again!

But nope, Zeus = unfaithful husband only. Let’s ignore all the other aspects of him, to focus on the one everyone focuses on. Let’s make him the umpteenth version of the same guy, instead of offering a new vision. This will surely make the story worth everyone’s time!

Rachel, this could’ve worked if I was 12 and had never read a retelling in my entire life. But since I’m more than twice that age, seeing Zeus as an unfaithful husband again doesn’t get my interest. And I’m sure this doesn’t only apply to me, but to everyone who already saw at least two retellings of him. Isn’t this story supposed to be new and original? Then why are we still picking from the same old clichè visions of these gods? Where is the writer’s personality and ability?

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Apollo: king of wasted potentials

I am absolutely, completely, 100% baffled at how Apollo has been treated in this story.

It's insulting to see the most beloved Greek god treated as a bidimensional piece of shit. Not only because he doesn't make any sense in the story (why is he here in the first place? Did Persephone and Apollo even interact in any myth?), but also because there are so many different possibilities for him, that seeing him being this is the biggest waste of potential I’ve ever seen.

A brief recap of who Apollo really is: Apollo is the embodiment of the sun. He is the god of arts and crafts. He's the most beautiful god, he embodies the concept of perfect Greek beauty. And he is associated with a lot of cool stuff, like medicine, truth and oracles. Also, like most of the other Greek gods, Apollo had many male and female lovers.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that, with all of this, your first idea about him is "yeah, let's make him a stupid rapist, so stupid to not realize that hey, maybe forcing a girl to sleep with you will not make her fall in love with you". Oh and let's not forget he randomly decided he wanted Zeus' throne just after the fertility plot point had been introduced Because Yes. And he’s running for president of Whatever-Land Because Yes. Also, he’s currently involved again in another evil plot Because… yeah, you got it.

It’s just so frustrating to see him being the biggest loser of all time, considering how much cooler he could’ve been. Just think about it: we could've had a bisexual musician, who does concerts with his band (the Muses) and has a shit ton of lovers. We could’ve had a heartbroken doctor, who does his best to save everyone because he has not been able to save his own son from death (Asclepius). We could've had a mysterious advisor who can see the future because of his foresight powers.

What did we get instead? A fucking rapist.

Apollo is nothing but wasted potential. He’s an insult to himself, the story, common sense, and the Greek culture. Of all the incredible things he could've been, he became the most insulting of them all. I really cannot bear to see this fucking idiot and his punching-bag face, pretending to be Apollo. He’s not Apollo.

But if there is a guy I can see less than him, then let me introduce you to…

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Kronos: Supreme Master of Wasted Potential

First of all: why is Kronos here? Why does this love story need Persephone to defeat a big bad guy? Just to show how cool and badass she is? Considering that their fight was a joke, it didn't work very well.

But okay, let's say we need a villain Because Yes. Kronos is still a huge waste of potential, probably the biggest waste of potential of the whole series until now. He could’ve been an interesting, multifaceted character, but he became a cartoonish supervillain har-har I want power.

Sigh.

But let’s take a step back and talk about the real, mythological Kronos. His story starts with his parents, Uranus and Gaia. The two had a lot of sons, including Titans (like Kronos) and Hecatonchires (monsters with fifty heads and one hundred arms). Disgusted by their monstrous nature or maybe just out of fear of being overthrown, Uranus chained his sons away into Gaia's womb (aka the Tartarus) so that they could never come out again.

Gaia suffered from this decision, so she devised a plan: she made a stone sickle, gathered her sons and tried to persuade them to castrate Uranus.

All of her sons were afraid of Uranus, Kronos was the only one brave enough to do it. And he was successful: he overthrew his father and became the new ruler of the universe, along with his wife/sister Rhea.

However, after becoming king, he didn't free all of his brothers as his mother wanted, but locked Hecatonchires and Cyclopes away once again. And so, Gaia told him that, one day, he would meet his father’s same fate and be overthrown by one of his own children.

Scared by these words, Kronos devised a plan: every time he had a new child, he took the baby from Rhea and swallowed them. Rhea was desperate and, in order to save her last son Zeus, she sought Gaia's help.

So Rhea gave birth to Zeus in a secret place, then handed Kronos a stone wrapped in clothes: he swallowed it, thinking that it was his son. This way, Zeus managed to escape the same fate as his siblings and was raised in secret, away from his father, until he was old enough to come back and fulfill his destiny.

And now, you may think Zeus overthrew his father with a sword and killed him and nah nah nah, myths are not that stupid and predictable. Zeus didn’t use violence to overthrow his father, but intelligence. He disguised himself to reach Kronos' court and, at the right time, he gave him a drink. That drink was an emetic (given by Gaia), that forced Kronos to throw up everything he swallowed, in reverse order: first the stone he thought was his last son, then Zeus' brothers and sisters.

After freeing his siblings, Zeus did what his father would've never done: he released the Hecatoncheires and the Cyclops to help him in the following battle against Kronos and the other Titans, a battle known as Titanomachy.

The war ended with the victory of the Olympians (i.e. Zeus and his siblings). Many Titans were confined in Tartarus, under the Hecatonchires' control, others were not imprisoned and kept appearing in other myths.

And Kronos? His fate differs depending on the myths. In some versions, he was imprisoned in Tartarus. But according to other, more interesting versions, Zeus forgave him after years, freed him and Kronos became king of the Elysian Fields: the famous earthly paradise reserved for the greatest Greek heroes.

Now. Just look at all of this beautiful, beautiful potential.

We have Gaia, a powerful goddess who overthrew two rulers of the universe, without moving a finger. A goddess strong and clever, but also a mother who wanted all of her children to be free - even the most hideous ones. She could’ve been a tragic figure, a master manipulator, or an evil schemer. Or all these things!

We have the Hecatonchires: fighters so powerful, to turn the tide of any battle. They could’ve been scary and intimidating, but also tragic monsters who just wanted to be accepted. They could’ve taught a beautiful lesson about the importance of accepting the ugly and giving everyone a chance to prove themselves.

Then we have Kronos. And Kronos had everything to be the greatest character.

Think about this concept: Kronos has always been afraid of Uranus, just like his brothers. He was just better at hiding his feelings. And that visceral fear is still inside him, it still haunts him after centuries, just like the memory of how he overthrew his father. And that fear takes the shape of paranoid thoughts about his father coming back to take the throne.

Kronos could’ve seen his father haunting him, but he could’ve also dissociated and seen himself as his father. In his altered state of mind, he could’ve been both the king and the one who overthrows him.

That could’ve made him a truly dangerous, unhinged character. A god who can’t see what’s real anymore, obsessed with the ghosts of his past. A god with nothing to lose and everything to gain. After all, if he kills his children again, the throne would be his once more. And, since he sees himself as himself and as his father at the same time, he would think that he is the "true king" coming back to take his throne.

That could’ve been awesome. Kronos could've been complex, desperate and multifaceted, a villain to pity and to be afraid of. A truly new, interesting version to know and love.

And do you have any idea how incredible Zeus could’ve been in this version? We could see him facing Kronos again, still as strong and determined as when he was young. And while everyone would expect him to kill Kronos, he would use his intelligence once again. He would prove to Kronos (and to everyone else) how intelligence is always superior to violence and how he's a good leader, despite his thousands of flaws.

Also, we could've seen Zeus talking to the defeated Kronos and making him the ruler of the Elysian Fields. We could've had a meaningful ending, in which Zeus understands Kronos' fears and shares his own.

I would’ve adored this, because according to the myth, Zeus was also supposed to be overthrown by a son! Hence why he swallowed Metis (his first wife) while she was pregnant.

The myth never truly clarifies who this supposed "son" is, but according to the different versions, Metis was pregnant not with a son, but with a daughter. A daughter who, one day, would be born, full grown, from Zeus' head. A daughter who would become Zeus' favorite child: Athena.

Honestly? I ADORE the idea that there was never a son to overthrow Zeus, but a daughter. And she would not overthrow his father by violence like her grandfather or by intelligence like her father, but by love. Athena doesn't need to take the throne from her father physically, she doesn't even need to sit on that throne: not when her father loves her more than anything else.

And I love the idea that Zeus is aware of that. He knows his daughter is his weakness. He knows that, if she asks, he will willingly give her that throne, because he loves her too much. And I would've loved to see him sharing these thoughts with the defeated Kronos. It could've been a beautiful moment, to see Zeus talking with the fatherly figure he always missed from his life. It could've led to a beautiful, meaningful ending for a dramatic story.

But can you see the problem here? This concept works for a story about Zeus, not about Hades and Persephone! These two have nothing to do with Kronos! Heck, even Rachel Smythe knows it, considering she had to pull a stupid plot point out of thin air, to explain why Kronos would give a damn about Persephone!

In case you were wondering: yes, the fertility-magical-power-battery-thing is bullshit. Gods don’t need a magical battery to be powerful. And no, fertility goddesses are not rare either: Aphrodite, Demeter, Hera, even Artemis are just a few of the fertility goddesses in Greek mythology. Kronos could’ve picked his favorite from a large pool, instead of becoming an absolute creep with Persephone in the stupidest fight of all time.

And speaking of that, two words on the supposed “fight”. First of all, apologies to all fights for being associated with this thing, because this was anything but a fight: it was a cartoonish conversation accompanied by the umpteenth sexualization of Persephone, who first appeared fully naked, then with a dress so stupid to defy the laws of physics and perspective.

And if you don’t believe me, please see it by yourself: this is how the dress was supposed to be, according to episode 75

This is how it ended up. Apparently, the Fates didn’t predict how huge Persephone’s boobs would be and the neckline didn’t grow accordingly: I feared to see one of them slipping out from it anytime during the “fight”

Also, please appreciate how Persephone is turned to the side, but the dress’ stupidly huge neckline is shown from the front, otherwise we would’ve seen her full naked boobs.

And that stupid neckline kept bothering me throughout the whole “fight”, because it kept changing size. Check the episodes and see it by yourself: sometimes it’s smaller, other times it’s wider and it keeps moving in impossible ways. It drove me insane.

But since we’re talking about drawings, please allow me a very brief parenthesis about them too.

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The drawings are a joke

I am not an artist. I can barely draw a straight line by hand. But I studied art history, perspective, proportions and colors, so I’m not completely clueless.

But you don’t need to be clueless, to notice how bad the drawings became. If you have two eyes and saw another human being in your life before, then you can notice by yourself how bad they are.

It’s not a secret that Lore Olympus’ art style changed over time. In the beginning, this comic was characterized by a lot of straight lines and geometric shapes, alternating and mixing with gentle curves. There were blur effects, colored outlines, a lot of details that gave an overall dreamy, ethereal vibe to every chapter (like the soft glow that accompanied the gods).

But as the story progressed, these elements disappeared. The geometric shapes gave way to an overall “softness” and roundness. The dreamy vibes and blur effects were replaced by sharper, clearer drawings. A distinct black outline now marks every character.

And speaking of characters, they were the ones who changed more. Lore Olympus always had funny, silly faces but the characters were also able to be serious and look natural. Now all we have are grotesque faces: the characters are a collection of caricatures and no one has a normal expression anymore. Check by yourself, by confronting a random episode of the third act with the first one: they’re two different worlds.

The disproportions were common too, since episode one. But at least they were somehow plausible, while now they’re completely absurd. It’s as if Mrs Smythe completely forgot what a human being looks like.

And this is pretty evident in how all characters became a rough draft of the two protagonists: all women got Persephone’s face, all men become buff and huge, with wide-ass shoulders and teeny tiny heads. This is particularly obvious at the end of season 2 / start of season 3, when we see some of the funniest images ever, like Hades with a tiny head and shoulders as wide as the entire USA

Or this hilariously bad image of Zeus with clown shoes and a head as big as his deformed hand.

No excuse can justify these drawings: no one is running after Mrs Smythe, nor forcing her to draw, and people are paying her real money to work on this webcomic. The least she can do is draw something that doesn’t look like a bad distortion of a human being.

Unless this isn’t her drawing, but her staff’s work. In that case, they are still paid to do their job, right? Or do they think this story is a joke and decide to show how much of a joke it is, by turning everyone into a grotesque caricature?

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In conclusion

Lore Olympus is hilarious because of how bad the writing is. It’s a manual example of how not to write a climax for your story. It’s a perfect demonstration of how you can still fail, even with great characters with endless possibilities. It’s a list of all the mistakes you can make as an artist.

If you’re a writer or an artist in general, please check Lore Olympus and study it. Here you will find everything you should never do and all the mistakes you should never make.

As a writer myself, I appreciate Lore Olympus, because I need works that teach me what I shouldn’t do. Good teachers are useful, but bad ones are even more useful, because it’s thanks to them that I can learn and grow and make better stories. Lore Olympus might be a failure from an artistic and writing point of view, but it might also serve as a foundation, from which other people can develop better ideas.

Actually, it already did it! Do you want to read a better story, rose from the disappointing ashes of Lore Olympus? Then check Lore Rekindled and @genericpuff: you will find their work here on Tumblr. They planned everything ahead and it’s pretty clear by reading it. The characters make more sense, the events have a more logical explanation. And the art style is much, much better than the last Lore Olympus.

We will meet again for the third and (for now) final post about this series, a much-needed post about the protagonists of this story: Hades, Persephone and Demeter.

<- Previous post - Next post ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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TAGLIST:

@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire

@riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads

@dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing

@thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @coldbookworm @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

#lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lo #greek gods #greek myth #zeus #apollo #kronos #lo zeus #lo apollo #lo kronos

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 1)

Word count: 9.8k+

Pairings: Sam Kiszka, Jake Kiszka, Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, angst, fluff.

A/N: This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

September 2013

You fidget nervously at your desk, waiting to hear who your assigned partner would be for the History project. School only started a few weeks ago, and you had hardly made friends with anyone in your classes yet. There were a few familiar faces that came with you from middle school, but no one that you really considered to be a friend.

High school was different. Everything was much more fast paced, people were louder, and meaner. You spent the last few weeks acclimating to the change of environment and learning your schedule, which brings you to third period History class.

As you listen to your teacher read off the names of the assigned partners you hold your breath as she reaches your name.

“Your partner for the semester is Samuel Kiszka.”

Sam?

He looks over at you and gives you a soft grin. You can barely see his eyes behind his swooping brown hair. You can see the outline of his braces under his lips as he gives you a soft wave in acknowledgement of his assignment. You smile back and nod your head.

You wouldn’t say that you and Sam are friends, but you have known him for a long time. Your parents are best friends with his parents and they have been since highschool. There have been many times that the Kiszka’s would spend New Years Eve at your house, or you at theirs. Fourth of July was always spent at the Kiszka’s and even sometimes Thanksgiving. You grew up around the guys, but you never really saw them outside of the holidays.

When the teacher called out Sam’s name, it was almost a relief. Now you wouldn’t have to spend the entire semester getting to know someone you didn’t choose yourself. You already knew Sam, just superficially.

As the bell for the end of class rang, you collected up your books and zipped them into your backpack. As you stood up, Sam approached your desk, “Hey partner!” he smiled.

Looking up at him nervously, you replied “Hey Sam!”

“I’m kind of glad we are partners,” he said, “I don’t really know anyone else yet.”

“I thought the same thing!” you say, reaching in your bag and pulling out a piece of scrap paper. You quickly scribble your number onto the strip and cap your pen. “Here is my number, so that we can start to plan. Seems like it's going to be a huge project.”

He smiles, and accepts the paper from your fingers. “Cool. I’ll text you later about it. Be thinking of ideas.” he says, nodding his head and walking off.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Thinking of topics for the project proved challenging. You were tasked with explaining the history of a modern day object. It could be anything. You spent a lot of the day thinking of things that were interesting and had a cool history behind them.

As you sat down at a table for lunch that day you began to unpack the lunch your mom made for you. One or two girls from your previous class sat around you and you talked mindlessly about the pep rally coming up and the football game on Friday. As you zoned out, you noticed Sam. He was sitting at a table with one of his friends who you knew as Danny. They were typical teenage boys, cutting up and cracking jokes. His eyes caught yours and he flashed you a smile, before quickly turning his attention back to Danny. Throughout the rest of the lunch you caught each other's eyes a few more times, but just small glances. He had kind eyes and you could tell he was a good person. Maybe you would get to know him better through this project.

–

That night as you are studying your Economics book to prepare for the test tomorrow, your phone vibrates on your desk.

Unknown: Hey it’s Sam

Oh, that was quick. I half expected him to lose the paper.

You: Hey Sam!

You quickly add his number to your contacts just as he replies.

Sam: Do you have any ideas for the project?

You: Yeah I do! I was thinking maybe we could do something music related since you are all into that now.

Sam: I’d love that, but are you sure?

You: Yeah, it will be fun and easy. Maybe we can do the evolution of the guitar or something?

Sam: That would be awesome. I always knew you were cool.

You: Lol, thanks…

Sam: Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and we can start on it?

You: You don’t have something better to do on a Friday night?

Sam: Nah, just mess around and play music in the garage like usual. Plus if we get this done we don't have to worry about it the rest of the semester.

You: Good point.

Sam: My brother can drive us to my house if your mom will pick you up later?

You: Sounds good!

–

Much of the next day at school is spent researching between classes and checking out library books about guitars, something you know nothing about. By the time the final bell rang you had consumed so much information about guitars that you felt like you could probably play one if you picked it up. As you walked to the Senior parking lot you heard Sam call your name from behind. You turn around to face him and he runs up to you.

“Hey!” he says, out of breath.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” you ask, clutching the stack of library books in your arms..

“Yeah, I think Jake's car is in the back. We are always late in the morning.” he says annoyed.

You shrug your shoulders and smile. His eyes flick down to the books in your arms, “I’ll carry those.” he says, reaching for the stack.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” you reply nervously. You’ve never had anyone offer to carry your books, and you can feel yourself blushing.

“No, no, I insist.” he says, grabbing the hefty stack from your hands.

“Thanks.” you say with a soft smile and he gives you a side smile back.

He starts to walk to the back of the parking lot and once you arrive at the car you see Jake leaning against the car, waiting, and clearly very annoyed. He looks a lot different than you remember him. His hair has grown out and his clothing style has changed.

He cuts his eyes at Sam, “You’re late….” his eyes look down to the books in Sam’s arms. “Carrying her books, a nice touch brother.”

“Shut up Jake.” Sam quips back.

Jake's eyes flash to you, widening slightly as he looks at you. His mouth starts to move as if he is going to say something, but he stops himself and purses his lips together, giving you one last glance as he turns on his heels to get into the car.

You swallow nervously at the awkward exchange, and get into the backseat of the messy sedan. Sam throws his stuff into the back seat next to you and shuts the door, opting for the front seat.

The drive to their house is short and you’re thankful. Something about Jake’s presence is making you uneasy. You have a swirling feeling in your stomach and a dry mouth. This is only further accentuated by his glances through the rear view mirror. He is studying you, but why?

You quickly look away, embarrassed that he caught you looking back. A small smirk crosses his lips. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look before looking away and turning the radio up.

A few minutes later you are pulling into the driveway of their house. A house you have visited many times before, but never without the buffer of your parents. You get out and shut the door, watching Sam and Jake gather their things before joining you on the front porch. Jake unlocks the door and you all pile inside. He looks at Sam and then to you. His eyes linger for just a moment, before he heads upstairs and the bedroom door closes.

“Has he always been this weird and I never noticed?” you jokingly ask Sam.

He gives you a strange look and shakes his head, “I don’t know what his deal is. Sorry about that.”

“Oh I don’t mind, all good.” you say dismissively. But you do mind, and you will be thinking about that look in the car, for the foreseeable future.

You and Sam spend the next several hours spread out on his living room floor, laying out books, papers, articles and notebooks with research and information, trying to create a timeline. You have created a solid outline for the paper portion of the project, but will have to put in more work on the actual poster board set up and model, as well as actually writing the paper. As you finish outlining the final section of the paper, you hear Jake coming down the stairs and you both turn your heads to look at him.

Your blood runs cold when you realize he is shirtless. It feels almost wrong to see him like this. You turn away quickly focusing back on the books in front of you. When he makes his way into the kitchen you release a sigh of relief that you hope Sam didn’t notice. As you continue to work, the image of his bare chest flashes through your brain. You push him away and refocus.

A few minutes later he walks into the living room and positions himself on the couch watching the two of you with a smug look as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

“What do you want? Go away.” Sam says aggressively.

“Mom said they will be home late and that I need to ‘supervise’ you.” Jake replies smugly with air quotes.

“Supervise? Supervise what?” Sam asks, practically yelling.

Just as Jake went to answer, the front door flew open. Josh waltzes into the living room loudly announcing his arrival.

“Honey, I’m hooooome!” he exclaims.

He sees you on the floor next to Sam with Jake on the couch, and raises an eyebrow as he hangs his coat on the little metal hook by the door.

He looks over to you with a smile, “Hey! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in forever! How are you liking highschool?” he asks. He has always been the more talkative one of the twins. He always made a point to have a conversation with you at every gathering, Jake not so much.

“Hey Josh! We are partners for History class this semester. We are working on our project. And… highschool is highschool. Nothing to report just yet.” you reply with a laugh.

“Well give it time, good to see you!” he says, bounding up the stairs.

You look over to Sam who shrugs his shoulders and you can't help but feel Jake's eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Do you mind if I get a glass of water?” you ask Sam.

“No go ahead.” he says, continuing to write the thought he was having, down onto the paper.

You stand and make your way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that you know you’ll find the glasses in, and walking over to the fridge.

You open the door to grab the pitcher and pour the cold water into the glass. As you shut the door you are shocked to find Jake standing a few feet away leaning against the counter.

Your eyes widen as they connect with him. Your eyes travel the length of his body up and down, taking in the changes that have happened since the last time you saw him. Suddenly you are seeing him in a whole new way. The glow of the fluorescent lights casting a soft shadow on the dips and curves of his abs. His shaggy brown hair hangs in his eyes as he crosses his feet. He is…attractive. Not something you would have ever thought you would think about a Kiszka boy. Having practically grown up together you thought you would always just see them as brothers. That is apparently not the case.

You realize that you are staring and quickly look away, only to hear him chuckling under his breath. You take a drink out of your glass and nervously walk over to the sink. Your heart is beating fast at your sudden realization of how your body is reacting to his presence.

He walks over and leans his upper body onto the counter next to you. “Why’re you breathing so heavy?” he asks with a smug grin.

“Drank too fast.” you reply, looking up at him.

“Hmm.” he says, pushing off the counter and walking back into the living room.

You set your glass in the sink and just stare at it for a second.

Oh god, he totally knows.

Returning to the living room, you rejoin Sam on the floor and continue to work. About an hour later the doorbell rings.

“Oh yeah, Mom ordered pizza.” Jake says, getting up to answer the door. He collects the boxes and tips the driver before walking to the kitchen.

“You hungry?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I could eat.” you reply with a smile.

He smiles back and extends his hand to help you off of the floor. You make your way into the kitchen and stand around the island as Jake takes plates out of the cabinet.

“Hey can you go tell Josh there's food?” Jake asks Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes and trudges up the stairs. You swallow thickly, realizing you are yet again left alone with Jake. He opens the box and looks up at you.

You immediately look down at your hands and again you hear him laugh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask in an annoyed tone.

“Doing what?” he replies.

“Waiting for me to look at you and then laughing when I look away.” you respond.

He gives you a side smile, “Because…you get all nervous and blush. It’s cute. I think you have a crush on me.”

“No I don’t!” you reply with a bright red face.

“It’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be mad.” he replies, handing you an empty plate with a smug look.

Before you can say anything, Sam and Josh bound into the kitchen and are so loud that it breaks the tension between you and Jake.

Thank god.

As Josh and Sam begin to tear into the boxes, Jake raises his voice, “Hey!” and everyone stops and stares at him. Returning his voice to a normal tone he continues, “Ladies first guys, come on.”

If your face were any more red you would turn into a tomato. You quickly walk over and grab 2 slices, and find a seat at the table. You sit just staring at your plate trying to process everything that just happened.

How does he know I think he’s cute?

Why didn’t I deny it again? Now he probably thinks it’s true!

The rest of the guys join around the table and begin their conversations. Jake is sitting across from you and you have done remarkably well not looking at him one time. You can tell he notices too.

As Josh asks about your History project, Sam starts to explain your selected topic. As you listen in on all of the research he is talking about you feel something slide across your foot, and you instantly know what it is. You face flames red again and you see a small, hardly noticeable smile cross Jake's lips.

You pull your leg back so that the contact is lost. Josh asks you what you know about guitars and you tell him that you know absolutely nothing about them. You have never even held one. You grab your glass of water taking a sip as Josh responds.

“You know, Jake could probably teach you a few things if you were interested.” he says, and you nearly choke. The water has slipped past your throat in just the wrong way.

You feel his foot slide across the side of your ankle, and you try to gain your composure.

“Yeah, you just call me if you’re interested.” he says with a side smile.

You know his words mean something different than what Josh intended and your heart starts to beat quickly as his eyes stare into yours.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you feel his foot twisting with yours trying to get your attention but you do your best to ignore him. What does he want from me anyways?

You all finish up and pile your plates in the sink and you and Sam return back to the living room to keep working. Josh and Jake are in the kitchen cleaning up as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Sam yells out, and he walks to the door, opening it to reveal Danny.

You knew Sam and Danny were best friends, they had been since school started a few weeks ago. They were always together.

“Crap, I forgot to text you. I’m trying to get this History project done so we don’t have to worry about it.” he says, letting Danny in the door.

“Hi Danny.” You say standing up to greet him. He returns the hello and turns back to Sam, “I can go. No big deal.”

Sam looks conflicted, and turns to you, “Do you think we have done enough for today?” he asks. You can tell he doesn’t want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, I think we have a really good head start. I just need to text my mom to come get me, and I’ll be out of your hair.” you say pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Well, we are just gonna play some music in the garage, you can stay if you want to?” he says.

“Oh, it’s Friday night, I don’t want to intrude on your plans…” you say.

Jake comes into the living room from around the corner, “Think of it like research for your project. Need to see one in action if you’re gonna try and write about it, right?” he says with a smirk.

Smooth…

You look at Sam who is shrugging and nodding his head in agreement.

You bite your lips inward and turn back to Jake, “Okay, just for a little bit. I do want to see you play – I mean, I want to see all of you play – I didn’t mea–” you stammer, stumbling over your words. You actually aren’t sure what you meant, but you think it was probably close to the first thing.

“Cool…” he replies with a smug grin.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder and lets it slide across the top of your back as he makes his way upstairs. You shove your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath.

“You can follow us out the garage, but grab your jacket, there’s no heat.” he says, waving his hand to follow after him.

You follow him and Danny out the side door and into the stand alone garage at the end of the gravel path. He turns on the fluorescent lights that start to buzz as they warm up. You see a drum kit, a bass and an electric guitar all hooked up to amps and you turn to look at Sam, “When did all this happen? This wasn’t here last time I was here!” you ask, surprised.

“We kinda got serious about it over the summer. We are gonna try and make a go of it I think. We have some songs worked up, and Danny is our new drummer.” he answers. You sit down on the old faded red couch and cross your legs. A few minutes later the door opens and Jake and Josh come in to join you. Josh sits next to you on the couch as Jake throws the guitar strap over his shoulder. He has on a hoodie now, but that doesn't stop you from picturing how he looked in the kitchen earlier. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking a smile flashed across his lips as he turned on the amp. Hearing his guitar roar to life you feel a spark travel through you. He is so concentrated and the way his hands are moving across the strings is bringing back that swirling feeling from earlier. He is in his element, and he wanted you to see it.

For the next hour they played to an audience of just you, Josh eventually getting up to join them for a few covers. You didn’t even know Josh could sing. You’re actually glad you stayed. They sound good, better than you expected, and it's nice to actually be doing something other than homework on a Friday night.

Bouncing your foot along with the music you look at each of the guys, examining their hands and the movements they are making to create the sounds you are hearing. You find your gaze fixed upon Jake and his hands, far longer than any of the others. When you realize and look up you see his eyes trained on you, watching you just as intently as you were watching him. He nods his head in a come here motion, and you reel back slightly. What?

“Come here,” he speaks out.

You stand nervously and approach him. He slings the guitar strap over his head before placing it over your shoulder. It hangs heavily around your neck, as he smiles. “Okay, grab the neck,” he says, picking up your hand and placing it on the frets, “and this arm…” he says, pulling it through the strap, “Rests here. There, now you have held a guitar.” he smiles.

The feeling of his hands on your body in any capacity is enough to send your nervous system into overdrive. You feel like you might faint, but quickly reel it in. He walks around to the front of the guitar and places your fingers on the strings in a specific pattern.

“Okay, hold those there. It might hurt a little but it will go away.” he says, pulling the dark green guitar pick out of his teeth and handing it to you. “Okay take this and strum the strings.”

You do as he says and the note rings out. A smile crosses your face and his. You cant help but notice the shine in his eyes. A look of pride.

“Hey! You did it! You’ll be replacing Jake in no time!” Josh jokes from his stool. You look over to Sam who has an annoyed look on his face.

“Jake, isn’t your girlfriend coming over or something…” Sam asks pointedly.

Jake doesn’t answer, but he steps backwards from you, realizing the way things must look.

Your eyes flick back to him and you notice his face is red and you try to break the tension, “Thanks, I feel like I am definitely qualified to write about this now.” you joke, removing the strap from around your neck and handing the guitar back to him. Your hand brushes his in the exchange and you feel that spark again.

As you make your way back to the couch you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to your mom letting her know she could come pick you up. You spend the next twenty minutes watching them play and goof around with different songs. When she texts you that she is here, you stand up and zip your coat to prepare to leave.

“Are you going?” Jake is the first to ask, and you see a look cross his face that must be embarrassment that he has come across eager.

“Yeah, my mom is here, so I need to get my things from inside.” you say.

“I’ll walk you inside.” Sam says, quickly throwing his bass onto the stand. You see Jake's mouth open, but he closes it and steps back biting his cheek.

What was he going to say?

“Thanks for letting me stay and hang out with you guys! Can’t wait until you’re headlining an arena some day” you laugh, waving at all of them and stepping over the threshold of the door. You close the door gently behind you peering through the pane of glass to see Jake giving you his own version of goodbye with his eyes.

As you lay in your bed that night the memory of your impromptu guitar lesson played through your head, closely followed by a pair of piercing brown eyes willing you to stay just a little longer. Against your will and better judgment you fall asleep that night thinking about Jake Kiszka.

The next several Fridays were spent at the Kiszka house. Your parents were thrilled that you had formed a friendship with the guys and his parents had extended an open invitation for your welcome into their home whenever you wanted. Fridays turned into Saturdays which turned into going to hangout with Sam most days after school. You and Sam had become extremely close friends, even after the project was all said and done Freshman year. You and Sam even went to prom together Junior year. At a certain point you thought Sam might have feelings for you, but when you started dating Michael Carvey later that year, that suspicion went away. By summer of Senior year, Michael was but a passing memory and you and Sam were closer than ever. Their band actually had taken off. They were on the path to even record an EP. You had never been happier for them. You had seen first hand just how hard they worked to get there. You even helped Sam pass Calculus so that his parents would let him go play bar gigs in Detroit til 2AM. He was your best friend, and you would do anything for him. You just wanted to see him succeed, and he was.

While Sam never truly came out with his feelings for you after Michael, you knew. He knew. It was unspoken. You spent practically all of your time with him, but you didn’t feel that way about him. But what he didn’t know, and what you could never tell him was why. It would ruin your friendship. It was Jake, and it had been since that day in the garage. You thought that he was just your first real crush, and that when you had a boyfriend that feeling would go away. But it didn’t. Throughout the years it was a look here, or a touch there. He would say or do something, anything to keep you hanging on and it worked. You both knew it. But you also both knew nothing could ever come of it. You couldn’t do that to Sam. As the years passed you grew distant from Jake as he and Josh went off to college. You and Sam grew closer and now Senior year was drawing to a close.

May 2017

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Hey… did they tell you?” Sam asked.

“Who? Tell me what?” you ask.

“Our parents think they are sneaky and are throwing us a surprise Graduation party” he says with a sigh.

“Oh, well I guess it's not a surprise now, huh?” you laugh.

“I hate surprises!” he says, “I only found out because I heard my mom talking to Josh on the phone.”

“Oh, is Josh coming home for this?” you ask, knowing that if Josh was going, Jake wouldn’t be too far behind.

“Yeah I think they both are. Lucky us…” he says in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, let's just get through the actual graduation before we worry about the party, okay?” you ask.

“Alright, talk to you later.” he says hanging up.

You throw your phone onto your bed and bring your hand to your chest.

You haven't seen Jake in months. A feeling of anxiety washes over you at the thought. You have kept up with him on social media but he hasn’t been home when you’ve gone to hang out with Sam lately. They just finalized their EP and he and Josh have been in Detroit working on the tour schedule. You got into U of M for the fall term and you are so excited you can hardly wait. Sam decided against college, following after Jake. He wants to see where the band will take him, knowing that if he decides to stop the band, college will still be an option. You disagree with his choice, but he is your best friend and you will support him with whatever he decides. Danny did the same, shortly followed by Josh dropping out of U of M. Jake only attended the first year of college, deciding that his band was his dream. They were going to make it, you just had a feeling.

A few days later as you are putting on your graduation dress, you stop and look at yourself in the mirror. You remember standing in this exact spot the day you started highschool, wondering who you would be, and what you would look like in four years. A lot has changed since that moment. You have filled out, become more of a woman than a young girl. You are smart, 5th in your class. You have a partial scholarship to your top choice college and a whole bright future ahead of you. You have had a few boyfriends, a few different hair styles and a few friends come and go. But one thing has remained constant in those passing four years. The forbidden and undeniable tug in your heart for Jake.

You stand up pushing the thought from your mind as you grab your cap and gown and head downstairs to meet your parents. They think they have pulled a fast one on you with this whole surprise party, and you let them believe it. You know they are going to miss you terribly when you leave for college.

Hours later as you strut across the stage to accept your diploma, you notice a face in the crowd that tugs on that heartstring once again. You wondered if he would be here. He looks different now, his hair longer, grown out to the tops of his shoulders. His face more structured and defined, his eyes somehow darker and more brooding. His lips, more plump and inviting.

Stop, this is not his moment.

As the Principal hands you your diploma you exit the stage and take your seat. You are proud of your accomplishments and who you have become, and you find yourself wondering if he is too.

As you pull into the driveway at the Kiszka house, you see cars lined up all up and down the streets, in typical Kiszka fashion they have invited the whole town. As your family makes their way inside everyone rushes towards you and congratulates you on your achievement. You spend the next 20 minutes greeting everyone and thanking them for coming and for all of their support over the past few years. As your parents get tangled up in conversation you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can sneak yourself a drink. As you step into the kitchen he's there. Standing. Waiting. Almost as if he knew this would be your first stop. A soft side smile crosses his face as he extends a red solo cup to you. You smile and take it, taking a sip and you nearly choke.

“What in the world is this?” you say disgusted.

“A little bit of everything. You better get used to it, college girl.” he says playfully.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take another sip, knowing it's only a matter of time until you’re whisked away by another family member.

“I didn’t think you would come. Haven’t seen you in a while.” you say casually.

“You thought I would miss this?” he asks, almost as if you’d hurt him.

“I don’t know… You have just been busy, with the EP and all…” you trail off.

He pushes off the counter and looks behind him, before bringing a hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. He pauses for a second, just looking at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says, his hand sliding off your face, and down your arm. His fingertips graze yours as he turns and walks away.

JAKE POV

You had to go. You had to get out of there. You walk out of the kitchen, the smell of her perfume still lingering in your nose. You can smell it on your hand. The hand that touched her perfectly soft face, just seconds ago. You knew if you stood there for one second longer it would be over. Everything you have fought for years, gone in an instant. You would kiss her, and it would ruin everything. So instead you left her there, with the only thing that you could force out of your mouth.

‘You’re so beautiful.’

And god, was she. That was just the tip of the iceberg. She always was. Even that day so long ago, sprawled out on your living room floor next to Sam. You haven't let that day slip from your mind even once. She was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. You felt compelled to be near her. You couldn’t stay away.

It’s been four years, and with each passing day you watched her change and grow and turn into the beautiful woman that was standing in front of you, and even after all this time and everything that has happened between you, you still can’t have her.

You remember the day Sam told you that he liked her. It was just a few short weeks after that night in the garage. You were crushed, but he could never know that. You knew you could never have her, simply because he wanted her. She was his best friend. It was forbidden. So you watched from afar, wishing it was you laughing with her on the phone each night. Texting her the funny things that happened in your day, or just hanging out and going to movies together. Anything with her. But it wasn’t you. It was Sam. The worst part of it all, was knowing she didn’t feel the same for him, and trying to help him see it himself.

You both knew it would never be more than stolen glances, and secrets. Even if you both wanted it. There would always be Sam.

Stepping back into your bedroom you shut the door, and walk over to your dresser. You open the tiny wooden box on top and dig out the joint you rolled earlier in the day, thanking yourself for thinking ahead. You put it in the front pocket of your shirt, along with a lighter. You close the box and glance over to the card sitting on your desk. You have been debating on whether or not you were going to give it to her all day. You look away and walk back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the room.

The party is starting to die down, a lot of your parents' friends have already left, but a few linger still. You join your siblings and friends in the basement, knowing that she will be down there. You run your fingers through your hair quickly, and take a deep breath as you head down the steps. Everyone is hanging out, lounging on the couches and chairs, even a few people are spread across the floor. You see her on the couch next to Sam and you look away as you go to sit next to Josh on the floor. He is right in the middle of telling a story in his usual overly animated style. You never really understood how he did that. You were never good at storytelling.

You lean back on your arms and cross your legs in front of you. You look around the room and your eyes meet hers. She bites her lip into her mouth as she looks at you. You wished she wouldn’t do that. You find yourself thinking of how her lips would feel between your own teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought of it, however. Her eyes dart away from yours as Sam begins to speak.

Your eyes move down her body, focusing on the light reflecting off of her bare legs. They look so smooth, they are practically shining, even in the dim lighting of the basement. You force yourself to look away, and start a side conversation with Josh, but the whole time all you think about is her and how she looked at you in the kitchen. How she has always looked at you.

You have purposefully stayed away from her for the past few months. You couldn’t trust yourself, and you have thankfully been busy with the EP and planning the tour. You have spent a lot of time in Detroit and have scarcely been home. But that didn't mean you weren’t thinking of her. She was always there.

Everytime you would come home you would hope she was there hanging out with Sam, just wanting one glance from her to hold you over another few weeks. But she wasn’t. So when your mom called and asked if you could come home for Sam’s graduation, you didn’t hesitate to jump in your car and head home immediately. You knew she would be there, and here she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her.

Knowing that you needed to get her out of your head you stand up and walk back upstairs, making your way to the back porch. You position yourself on the old wicker patio set in the corner and pull the tightly rolled joint from your shirt pocket.

Placing your feet on the table in front of you, you block the wind and light the end of the joint.

Taking a long drag you breathe in as deeply as your lungs can take and let it slip slowly past your lips.

You tilt your head back onto the chair and stare up at the night sky, counting each star and trying to pick out the patterns you recognize. A smile crosses your face as you find the little dipper. It always makes you think of her. Her sophomore year, Fourth of July. You pointed it out to her. Somehow she had never seen it. It was the first time you held her, trying to position her the right way to be able to see it. You never wanted it to end. Her hand gripped yours tightly when she saw it, it was perfect. Ever since that night you always think of her when you see it. You can always find it. It’s always there. Just like her, in your heart.

A low rumble sounds through the house as you hear Sam and Danny playing around with a guitar in the basement. Typically you would join in, but tonight you are perfectly fine right here staring up at the stars imagining what if. Just far enough away to clear your mind but still close to her. You can feel her near you. After a few minutes you hear the door open and tilt your head to see who it is. You sit up a little when you see that it's her. You knew she would come looking for you. She always does and you’re always waiting.

She walks over and sits in the chair next to you crossing her legs on the table just like yours. You both just look at each other, no words needed to be said. This was a familiar occurrence between the two of you. Many times over the years you have found yourself in this exact spot sharing a joint together, each time as if no time has passed at all. No talking, just being together, existing in the same space. But tonight was different.

Your eyes flick to hers, and you pass it to her, her nimble fingers taking it from yours. You watch as she presses the paper to her lips inhaling and closing her eyes as she tilts her head back to look at the sky, much in the same way you just were. The smoke billows from her lips and you watch her chest rise and fall. The moon is bright, not a single cloud to dull its shine as it glows across her skin. You swallow thickly as you try to stifle the situation in your jeans. She passes it back to you, and you press it to your lips, knowing that the shared saliva on the tip is the closest you’ll ever get to tasting her.

“Jake?” she finally speaks up.

You turn your head to face her, involuntarily almost. Your body is betraying you. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks nervously.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“In the kitchen, when you said…” she trails off.

You let a soft smile cross your face, “Yeah I meant it. You are beautiful. You always have been and I’m so proud of you.” you confess reaching your hand out to run your fingers over the small stretch of skin on her arm. You see her face soften and it takes every ounce of your strength to not kiss her right then.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, the weed or both, but you got brave and now the truth is out.

“I’m proud of you too, you know.” she says, taking the joint back from your fingers. She takes a pull of it and hands it back. “I’m proud of all of you of course, but you… it’s different. The EP is so good. People love it and I know why… it came from here.” she says gently, placing her hand over your heart. The electrifying sensation zapping through your body just as quickly as her hand pulled away. Your hand instinctively reached for the spot hers was just in, before you could even realize.

The music inside is growing louder and you can hear Josh starting to sing. They will be down there for a while. If you’re going to do it, it has to be now.

“Hey, stay here, I have to get something. I’ll be right back.” You hand her the quickly dwindling joint and sprint upstairs to find the card you wrote her. There it sits on your desk, waiting and hoping to be opened. You grab it and shove it into the back pocket of your jeans before you make your way back downstairs and back onto the porch. Your heart is pounding as you rejoin her. You can tell that she is feeling the effects of the weed, as she is not trying to avoid eye contact anymore. Her eyes are locked in on your every movement.

You pull the blue envelope out of your pocket and nervously hand it to her. Her brow furrows and she accepts it, reading her name across the front in your messy handwriting.

“Jake…” she says, pulling the card out of the envelope.

“Just open it…” you say nervously.

Her eyes shoot up when she opens the card and notices it. You feel like your heart stops beating for a second as she realizes what it is. You let out a silent breath as you see the corners of her lips turning upward into a smile.

Taped inside the card was a small green guitar pick. The same one you used that night in the garage. The one you have carried with you everyday since.

“Jake you kept this?” she asked, rhetorically.

“I’ve had it with me everyday. Kept it in my wallet. I know it’s stupid… I just…” you stammer.

“It’s not stupid Jake… but why are you giving it to me, you’ve kept it all this time…” she asks, confused on why you would give her something you’ve kept for so long.

Your face turns a dark crimson as you tell her the reason, “Well, I have carried that with me everyday for four years, like… a little piece of you was always with me. Now, I want you to have it. Carry a piece of me… with you. So you don’t forget me when you go away. You have always been my first pick, here’s your proof.” you say nervously.

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, and smooths her pointer finger over the pick. She closes the card and her eyes flick up to yours. They are different, sad, but dark. She places the card on the table and stands up, walking to lean against the railing that overlooks the ravine next to your childhood home.

You stand and join her, feeling like you have messed up. Like you shouldn’t have said that.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset yo–” you are cut off as her hands cup your jaw, and finally after years of dreaming about it, you feel her lips pressed against yours. Your hand finds its place on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you as your other hand meets the small of her back.

It’s heaven, ecstasy, pure bliss, any beautiful and mind blowing word you could conjure would never be able to explain the feeling coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion that neither of you could ever explain, being described perfectly as your lips meld with hers. Her soft, perfect lips. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

She pulls away, far too soon. Your body is still gravitating to hers. Her hands release your face and smooth down the front of your chest, before pulling away. You can tell than neither of you wanted it to end. But you both knew it had to. At least you had this. This one perfect moment with her.

She pulls you in for a hug, but this hug is not happy. This hug is sad, and longing. This hug says I will miss you, and I’m not ready to leave you yet.

“The best gift. Thank you Jake.” she whispers as she pulls away, letting you go.

–

HER POV

You sit on the bed in your childhood bedroom, knowing that in a few short weeks this will all be a distant memory. You will be living away from home, no family, no friends. No Sam. No Jake. The thought is dreadful, but you are excited to start new. You were so overwhelmed by Jake’s card tonight. The pick… You can’t believe he kept it, after all this time. Why he kept it... It nearly shattered you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read what he had written in the card, knowing you would burst into tears. You had to stand up and walk away, but he was there, ready to comfort you, thinking that he had done something wrong when in reality he did everything right. The kiss. You can’t even put into words the kiss. It was everything. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him.

So now you find yourself here, sitting on your bed, staring at the card in front of you, willing yourself to read the words he has written, just for you.

You open the card, seeing the pick taped inside, and his perfectly sloppy handwriting.

Hey college girl,

Proud of you for being a smartypants. I always knew you were smarter than me. But I do have some advice for you, since I am older and therefore wiser, ha ha.

Skip at least 1 class a month to go do something fun.

Don’t waste too much of your time perfecting your homework, C’s get degrees…

Never go anywhere alone. If you ever find yourself alone, I’m only a phone call away.

You laugh at his advice, it is so perfectly Jake. Written messily underneath the pick you see his parting line.

I’ve kept a piece of you with me, and now a piece of me will be with you. Don’t forget me.

All my love,

Jake

You close the card and put it on your night stand. You pull the blankets over your head and turn off the lamp. As you lie alone with your thoughts on what is supposed to be a happy day, you cry yourself to sleep knowing that you could never forget him. Even if you wanted to.

–

August 2017

“Where do you want this?” Sam asks, holding up your full length mirror.

“How about near the closet somewhere?” you ask.

Sam graciously offered to help you and your parents move your things into your dorm room. He was leaving for tour in a few days and he wanted to spend every last second together before you were both separated from each other. You spent practically all summer together, hanging out, going to the lake, watching them practice for tour. The summer went by too quickly, but you knew it would. Things were changing, Sam became more and more busy with the band, and you were busy preparing everything for your move and classes. When he offered to help you move in you accepted, knowing it would probably be the last time you saw him for a long time.

“Okay honey, that's everything. Only need to unpack these boxes of random stuff, and you will be all moved in.” your mom says, teary eyed.

“Thanks mom, I couldn’t have done all of this without you, really.” you say pulling her in for a hug.

Your dad follows behind her, giving you his signature bear hug. “You call us if you need anything. I mean it.” he says sternly.

“I will dad, I promise.” you reply and with that they leave you to your new life as a college student.

You stand in your room, staring at the door, as Sam starts to speak. “Are you okay?” he asks nervously. You feel his arm encircling your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a little bit sad. Everyone is leaving me.” you reply.

“Not really, they are only an hour and a half away,” he says.

“Not just them, you too.” you say.

“I’m not leaving you! We are just going for a few months. It will go by quickly. I can come visit as soon as we get back! Or maybe you can come see a show or…” he trails off.

“Plus, you can call me or text me whenever you want. You know I always answer you.” he smiles. “Dont, be sad. You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You snap your head to look at him, he has never said something like that to you.

“What?” he asks.

“Well… you never say that kind of stuff to me Sam.” you say curiously.

“Yeah I know, but I have been thinking…” he says.

You nod your head, encouraging him to continue his thought.

“Do you remember the day we got partnered up Freshman year?” he asks.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“When I found out you were my partner I was so excited. But I tried to play it cool. I just thought you were soooo pretty.” he laughs.

He starts to unpack one of the boxes full of random items as he continues, “The night you came over, I didn’t even know how to handle what I was feeling, you were so smart, and funny. I couldn’t understand why I never saw it before. I mean, we knew each other for years.” he says, placing books on your little book shelf.

“I was so excited you stayed to watch us jam in the garage. I wanted to impress you. A few weeks later I admitted to myself that I liked you. I even asked Jake for advice. None of it worked, obviously. ” he smiles shrugging with his shoulders.

Jake knew? Why didn’t he tell you?

“I worked up all my courage to ask you to Prom, I was still nervous though. I was going to try to kiss you that night. I clearly didn't...” he laughed.

“Then when you started dating Michael, I had the answer I needed. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me. I put my feelings aside and continued to just be your best friend. I was fine with that. I’ve been fine with that. But now, we are leaving, and you’re starting school and it just feels like I had to tell you. You had to know, if you didn’t already.”

“Sam…” you drag his name out.

“I know, I know, so typical. Guy falls in love with his best friend…” he laughs.

“In love?” you ask shocked.

“Of course…how could I not? But… I know it’s not like that for you. Or else it would have happened long before now.” he says, closing the drawer of your nightstand.

He knows, he gets it. But he doesn’t know why.

“You are my best friend Sam...Practically my brother. I love you, you know that. But I love you like a brother.” you say, ashamed, and knowing that you are crushing him.

“I figured that’s what you would say. There are no hard feelings, I promise.” he says with a smile. But you know it's a lie.

“Are you sure, I feel so stupid…” you reply.

“No, you’re not stupid. I promise. I mean you’re the one going to college here...” he laughs.

“Sam you got into HARVARD.” you laugh.

“Yeah…wasn’t for me…” you both laugh and the tension melts away.

A little while later, you are unpacking the last box and you see all of the pictures you selected for your bulletin board. You grab the thumb tacks and the stack of photos and mementos and turn to put them up.

“Oh, I can do that. I’m good at collaging.” Sam jokes.

You hand him the stack and turn back to your bottomless pit of a last box.

You carry a few items to the closet, and peek over your shoulder to check on his progress.

“Looks good Sammy!” you yell behind you.

When you return to the room you see him sitting on the bed reading something. The blood drains from your face as you see exactly what it is.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, you can feel the venom in his tone.

You walk over to him and snatch the card out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. Ignoring his question. But you know it’s too late. He read it.

“What is that? I know it's from Jake… I could recognize that handwriting anywhere!” he demands.

“Nothing, Sam! He just gave me a card at that graduation party! It wasn’t even supposed to be in that box. I don’t know why it’s in there. Must have been an accident.” you say, tossing it in the small trash can by your desk.

You can see his body relax as he watches the folded blue card hit the bottom of the can, and with it the entirety of your heart.

You never thought that the first thing you would learn in college would be that your best friend is in love with you. Only to be quickly followed by him reading his own brother's private confession, meant for your eyes only. He changes the subject quickly so you know he didn’t read into it too much, and you are thankful. The last thing you want to do is try to explain.

Another hour or so of packing and talking and it’s time for Sam to go. A few tears and a lot of ‘I’ll miss you’s’ later, you watch as his hand me down Subaru pulls away from your dorm. With a promise of ‘I’ll call you’, you head back into your room.

Rushing straight to the trash can you pick up the card, running your fingers over the letters as you let the tears fall. You hate lying to Sam. You wish you could be honest, but you know you can't. Especially now.

How could you do this to him? He is your best friend. Your best friend who is in love with you… He would never understand.

Tears roll down your cheek as you pin the card to your bulletin board. The pick still sits perfectly taped inside the card. You haven’t brought yourself to take it out, afraid you will lose it. You couldn’t bear the thought. It sits right next to a picture of you and Sam. His arm draped around the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. Both of you are wearing huge, happy smiles.

Your best friend.

A pang of guilt shoots through your chest as you imagine how Sam must have felt all these years. Hearing you complain about boys and watching you date them, when all he wanted was for it to be him. All the times you cried to him on the phone about your bad dates and break ups…He was always there.

In a way you almost feel like you led him on, spending almost everyday with him this summer. You knew you two had grown closer, but you didn’t know how much more it meant to him. All the while you were pining after his brother. The brother who he asked for advice. About you. You, never even throwing a thought his way. Now you’re here at college, and they are leaving for tour. You’re not sure when you’ll see them again, but maybe the distance will be good. Maybe it will give you all the clarity you need.

You decide to take a shower to rinse away the day, and hope that it will help you relax into your new surroundings. It’s hard being in a new place where no one knows you. It’s scary and lonely. You triple check the lock on your door and text your mom that you are in for the night, so that she doesn’t worry.

As you crawl into the unfamiliar twin bed, you read a few pages of a book your mom bought you, and find yourself growing drowsy with each flip of a page. When your phone vibrates next to you, your eyes pop open, waking you from your light sleep. You pick it up wondering who it could be, and when you see the name on the screen it nearly takes your breath away.

Jake.

With shaking hands you swipe to open the message and what you are met with, sends a chill down your spine.

Jake: Sam called.

Chapter 2

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thrashkink-coven · 4 months

Text

Random thoughts about Jophiel because he’s on my mind today

Jophiel truly was my introduction into the occult. My relationship with him has a lot more history than many of my other spirits, even that of Lord Lucifer, so I cherish him very deeply and consider him to be my patron saint. You may notice that I use he/ him pronouns for Jophiel which is unusual. Jophiel has always appeared to me androgynously (of course) but has always seemed to assume a kind of masculine energy, even with all his feminine aspects. He’s kind of like me in that way.

I first “met” Jophiel around the age of 7. I had a very surreal “dream” in which a ghostly figure with luminescent white hair and firey - incomprehensible- blue eyes appeared in my room and explained to me that we were eternally bound. He told me that no matter where I go, he will find me and “keep me in good condition”. Weird dream for a 7 year old to be having!!

(Note: I’m 99% sure Jophiel is not my holy guardian angel- he himself has told me that he is not “the one responsible for that role”)

I remember thinking he was inhumanly beautiful, purely beautiful- so much so that it’s almost uncanny. He is beautiful in a way a human cannot be- the way that a painting or a flower is beautiful. Beyond description.

He’s like a cathedral or an ocean beaming with life, and it affected my idea of beauty for the rest of my life. Jophiel is beauty that is beyond understanding. The beauty in music that makes you tear up without understanding why. The beauty in a poem that makes you strangely melancholy for months. He is aesthetic in itself, the idea of beautiful elements coming together to portray an emotion. He is the beauty of existence and the melancholy of its destruction.

Jophiel always speaks softly, almost muted. In fact he seems to mute the entire world. His energy is shrill, rings extremely high, but he also washes over you like ocean waves, swelling and waning and swelling again in cycles. He is a liminal entity who exists between spaces. He’s someone you have to be very quiet to notice.

Since that first introduction to him I had developed the ability to “see things”. I hold my skepticism close to my chest, but I also cannot deny my experiences. Since the age of 7 or so I have been able to see the energy on certain objects among other things. Perhaps these would be described as “auras”. Sometimes I can see the intentions of others before they act, their energy will swell to a certain direction and then they will take that path seconds later. I don’t want to go to into specifics for fear of sounding crazy or delusional, but Jophiel’s blessing allowed me to somewhat see through the vail when my mind is in the right state. It allowed me to be aware of the energies around me that I cannot see with my own two eyes but with my “third” if that makes sense. I was also given greater access to astral travel. Other witches in my community have described them as the abilities of a “seer”, I believe these abilities came directly from Jophiel. But, again, skepticism skepticism.

About a year or so ago Jophiel started seriously pursuing me, maybe even haunting me for months in my dreams. He showed me a lot of incomprehensible cryptic symbolism and visions, seemingly in hopes to get me to take my craft more seriously and stop questioning whether my reality is real. In order to understand how to use my abilities I’d have to first stop questioning their existence- and this is when I took up Jophiel as my patron more seriously. I genuinely believed that I was losing my mind at this point, things became very clear and that was very confusing. Angels don’t care how much or little you believe in them, when they have a job for you to do they will make you believe, whether you want to or not.

Jophiel can be stern, terrible and terrifying. He is the angel with the flaming sword. He is not at all afraid to get serious by any means, and he has most definitely put me in my place a couple times. He is the strength and wisdom that is required to protect beauty as well as the beauty itself. Jophiel doesn’t need to yell- in fact he doesn’t need to say anything at all to get his point across. He really doesn’t tolerate disrespect, as kind as he is he is still an Archangel with legions of angels beneath him.

I thoroughly believe his purpose was to prepare me for the other magical relationships I later developed with his assistance. Jophiel and Lucifer (and Haniel) are extremely merciful and understanding of human mistakes and clumsiness. Other spirits are not so much. Jophiel made it very clear to me that my angelic work needed to lay the foundation for my work with the infernals. My boundaries and protections needed to be strong in order to delve into the darkness unscathed.

We now have a relationship where he will sometimes show me visions that I will then use as inspirations for drawings. He seems to really enjoy this, saying once that “his will has become real in my material though the intentions of my hands”.

Jophiel has appeared to me in a variety of forms. Sometimes he is not a person, but a place. An oasis in a desert or a field of lavender. He is music and art in every form, but also wisdom. The art and wisdom of maths and sciences and sacred geometry. The geometry that builds your cells and arranges your atoms.

Sometimes he is gargantuan, so tall that I cannot see the top of him like a mountain. Sometimes he is so bright that I fear he will burn my eyes out of my skull. He speaks quietly but he can also be VERY LOUD! Because of his raw intensity I only summon him once every few months. It takes a long time and requires weeks of submerging myself deep in prayer. Jophiel adores prayer.

I see many people equate Jophiel to a happy cheerful young girl. To me he is always pleasant, but not necessarily a happy go lucky ball of sunshine. Don’t get me wrong, he is literally a ball of sunshine- he is pure light and love. But his immense wisdom creates a sense of quietness in him- nuance. He is aware of the cycle of creation and destruction- how beautiful things can become ugly and how ugly things are beautiful. How beauty is so subjective and therefore adaptive. He isn’t a stereotypical portrayal of beauty and love- not at all.

While other spirits represent more carnal love of the flesh and lust, Jophiel is more oriented towards the love of culture, the love of the natural beauty of the world, the love a child has for a stuffed toy, or the love a painter feels towards a flower. In fact I would go as far as to describe Jophiel as a virgin goddess. He has actually told me himself that he does not like to be sexualized, although he has nothing against sex in general it is not his greatest sphere of influence.

Many occultists have corresponded Jophiel with Saturn and Jupiter, as a wise and capable guardian. I personally believe that Jophiel is also Venusian. I believe he is among the spirits that embody the principles of Venus. This is more of a upg based off of my experiences with him and his leading me towards Archangel Haniel and Lord Lucifer. They are extremely familiar and have good opinions of each other.

The last time I saw Jophiel was a few nights ago in my dreams. He was accompanied by a legion of angels behind him (fucking wild to see, they look like a bunch of glowing goo that shifts around and oscillates when they’re all together like that) and he basically said “Hi, it’s nice to see you but I’m really busy right now, okay bye!” and I thought that was really funny.

He always likes to answer whenever I call even if it’s just to tell me that he’s unavailable which is really really nice. Not even Faviel does that for me lol.

Anyways, that was just a bunch of brain vomit about my relationship with Jophiel. I really do love him so much. Maybe I’ll make a post about ways to better connect with him some time for those who are interested.

I usually end these posts off with “Ave ___!” as a devotional send off, but angels work a little differently than that, so I’ll just say thank you Jophiel for everything that you’ve given me and everything that you are. You are my dear friend and I wish you well. May we meet again soon.

#magick #witchcraft #occultism #witch community #demonology #pagan #paganism #witch aesthetic #witchblr #grimoire #angelology #angel work #angelic magick #jophiel #archangel jophiel #archangel #celestial #angelic #solomonic

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ridhearts · 2 years

Text

sing for me {kalim + rook}

when he swears he’ll slap anybody who’s ever told you “you talk too much.” (or maybe...just give them a dirty look).

!! information !!

characters: kalim + rook

reader: gender neutral!

cw: being told in the past that you talk too much, if that’s something you need warned for! Otherwise this is just. unabashed self indulgence

masterlists ⇿ requests

• • • • • • • Kalim

Kalim wasn’t quite sure how he got you started on the topic. The two of you were simply sitting in his room in silence, working on your respective history homeworks and only losing a shred of focus to occasionally bump the other playfully. Then, re-reading a passage in his textbook for the third time, something ignited Kalim’s curiosity and he asked you about your home. You answered simply at first, but after sitting with it for a few moments, you caved in and began explaining everything you knew in great detail.

To be entirely honest, Kalim had no idea what you were talking about. You were listing off places he had never heard of, holidays that sounded vaguely familiar, and talking about people he would never meet. The only thing Kalim was certain of was how deeply you cared about what you were saying, and even if he wouldn’t remember any of the details, he loved being able to know how you loved your home. Lying on his back, his head hanging off the edge of his mattress, Kalim hugged a pillow tighter to his chest.

A short while later, you coughed in the middle of a sentence and cleared your throat. Kalim waited for you to continue, eager to hear what you had to say next. A few more moments passed before you said, in a scratchy, worn-out voice, “...sorry.”

Kalim’s eyes had been closed in bliss as he listened to your excitement, but your sudden remorse made them shoot open. “For what?”

You had to clear your throat again to speak. “I think I got carried away. I…don’t even know if you know what I was talking about.”

“Well, how am I supposed to learn if you don’t tell me?!” Kalim sat up so quickly he gave himself a head rush, but powered through it to scoot closer to you. He loved listening to you talk. Your voice was enough to perk him up after a long day, and you always had such interesting ideas that he never thought of before! Plus, he could go on and on about how much he liked his home, so it was only fair to listen to you talk about yours! Whether you were remembering fondly or bitterly, no matter what you had to say, Kalim would listen to your stories for hours with no complaints.

He grabbed your hand in both of his and gave you a wide-eyed, pleading look. “Pleeeease keep going? You were telling me something about a playground you always went to, right?”

“Oh, uh…my throat’s pretty dry, and I don’t want to bore you…”

“Never!” Kalim squeezed your hand in his enthusiasm, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you react. Apologetically, he half-kissed, half-nuzzled your knuckles before jumping off the bed. Papers slid to the floor after him as he stumbled forward, nearly yanking the whole blanket off in the process. “I’ll get us something to drink, and then we can take a break and you can tell me all about it!”

• • • • • • • Rook

“So then I started doing some research, and it all started coming back to me! I feel like I just started all over again, you know? Like my passion has been reignited. I have so many ideas for what I want to write about, and the information available here is pretty similar to what we know back in my world! Actually, there are some bits you know more about, which is super cool! Back in my world we didn’t know this, but did you know…”

Even though you couldn’t see it, what with the two of you on the ground with you lying perpendicular to him with your head on his stomach, Rook smiled as you continued telling him about the exciting new program that had caught your eye. He noticed you looking into internships and independent study programs for a specific field, something you mentioned having an interest in before you were transported to this world. It seemed Crowley was still working out a way to send you back and had encouraged you to look into some non-magical skills you could hone once you moved up to your fourth year at NRC. Evidently you found one you liked, as you quickly made yourself sparse to read up on the available knowledge in the library. Rook was your go-to soundboard for figuring out the discrepancies between the information you learned in your world and what was known in this one, as well as your biggest hype man to encourage you to keep an eye on this competitive program.

“...and put together with that one thing from my world I told you about, it all just makes so much sense. I was thinking about writing my essay on that, but is it plagiarism if I discuss ideas from my world that were common knowledge and don’t exist here yet? Who’s to say I wouldn’t come to that conclusion myself? I’m sure if I look harder I can find an article or two to cite, but it’d be easier if I had access to a database. Do you think Crowley could get me into a database? Don’t let me forget to ask him.”

It seems the birdwatching the two of you had loosely planned for today would have to wait, but Rook didn’t mind one bit. He cherished every moment he got to spend with you, and he loved to be the one to bring out that look of wonder as he showed you some rare species that made a home on NRC grounds, but he adored your excitement even more. Your voice was sweeter than any birdsong to him. Rook could listen to you talk about this for hours - not just to learn more about you, but because he wanted to share your love and interest.

Without meaning to, Rook sighed happily and let his arm fall so that it rested across your midsection. Second later, you trailed off in the middle of a sentence before clearing your throat. Rook could feel the bubbling contentment in his chest give way to a stillness that told him he had done something wrong.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away…and I bet I’ve scared all the birds, too. Uh, did…you have something to say? I didn’t mean to monopolize-”

“Non!” Rook cried out, instantly sitting up. Your head slid into his lap, and he cupped your face before leaning over you. His head blocked out the sun so you could see a distressed expression on his shadowed face. If you weren’t used to his dramatics, you’d be sure he was seconds away from tears. “Je suis désoléI did not mean to sigh in annoyance, I was sighing in bliss! Please, mon amour, continue with your story! I want to hear all about it.”

His theatrics caught you off guard. It was disarming enough to hear him so desolate about a sigh, let alone that he seemed to figure out exactly what you were doing and why. “O-oh, I didn’t mean to be so sensitive. I’ve just probably told you this already, is all.”

“It matters not! Tell me five, ten, a thousand times, and I’ll listen to them all with rapt attention.” He leaned away so you could sit up, readjusting yourself so that when you both reclined, you were side by side. Absently, Rook traces a line down your hairline before kissing the crown of your head. “Keep going! Whoever has discouraged you from speaking your mind has trespassed greatly, but I am here to right their wrongs. So, if you please…”

You sighed, trying not to look too pleased. “You’re so dramatic, you know?”

Rook only grinned and watched you expectantly. And who were you to keep him waiting?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader #rook hunt x reader #kalim al asim #rook hunt #this is for my sad bitches who have been told they talk too much #or my personal favorite flavor that when you speak you're 'condescending'

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

Note

Me back with a dorky af idea because... well..

Prompt: Dagger squad doing regular chaotic Dagger shit. Discussion arises. Or no wait debate. About who has the biggest BDE. Phoenix has everybody beat I'm not taking arguments. Everybody disses Mav trying to argue his nonexistent case. Hondo is covering Bobs ears.

Final showdown between Admiral Kazansky and Vice Admiral Simpson.

Maybe you argue one case a bit too strongly. Maybe someone overhears. Maybe he has to ask Warlock wtf bde means.

Discuss the possibilities. Please.

-- I know we talked about bestie Jake but we didn't talk about him enough so here he is, in all his glory and I love him. Also I don't remember what the "put that in your pentagon budget" guy's actual job was so forgive me--

You weren't entirely sure how the discussion arose but now that it had, it was positively impossible to stop it.

"IT DOESN'T COUNT, SHE DOESN'T HAVE ONE!" Fanboy bellowed through the recreation room clueing in everyone who hadn't already caught on to what they were arguing about.

"You're only saying that because you're losing Mickey," Phoenix replied with a smirk that had the man turning a lovely shade of tomato red.

"No I'm saying that because the fact that you do not have a dick disqualifies you from the fucking ranking, Natasha," he spat

"Oh, oh," Jake said, looking up high, a hand over his eyebrows as if to shield his eyes," Guys, something's falling," he added before gasping, "oh my god, it's Mickey's BDE ranking! It just keeps falling and falling and falling," he said, progressively looking down until he was firmly staring at the floor, "and falling an-- oh no, send an ambulance, I think it has just hit rock bottom..."

Coyote winced, "ouch, that looked like it hurt... Are you okay? Will you recover?"

"Oh fuck off. This thing's rigged anyway," Mickey said, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout and making everyone laugh.

"Okay, what did I miss?" You asked, having briefly gone to the vending machine to get snacks.

"We're ranking everyone by level of BDE. Fanboy judt plummeted to the bottom, never to be seen again, and Phoenix is at the top," Jake explained while you handed out Kit Kats to the squad, making sure to pout a little mockingly at Fanboy as you tucked his chocolate bar into the pocket of his sweater.

"Good girl," you praised, sending Nat a wink, "Now, big question... Where do I stand?"

"Second place," Jake replied, "I'm in joint third with Javi, then, Bob is a surprising fourth. Payback is fifth. Halo is sixth, thanks to her barfight on Thursday. Fritz and Omaha are joint seventh, Yale and Harvard are eighth, Maverick is ninth and Fanboy is tenth." he said, "We have yet to rank Hondo, Vice Admiral Simpson, Warlock and Admiral Kazansky. Oh! And that flightplan coordinator you like... I don't remember his name, the pentagon budget guy, you know the one..."

"Oh Ian? Ian goes in first. Sorry Phoenix, but his outburst will be written in the annals of history as one of the most legendary things to say to a superior officer," you said. Phoenix, though dissapointed, tipped an imaginary hat at your statement.

"Hondo... the man, the myth, the legend --" you started, tapping Jake on the leg to give you space as you sat down beside him on the edge of the bench.

"Hey, hang on, where am I in this entire thing?" Rooster asked, suddenly catching up with the fact that he hadn't been ranked and looking quite offended.

"Below Fanboy," Jake stated stated

"Jacob be nice," you replied, gently hitting him on the shoulder. He looked at you for a second then stuck out his tongue. You rolled your eyes at him and turned away, he leaned forwards and kissed your cheek.

"Eww. So when are you guys going to admit you're dating?" Halo asked with her head in her hands, here eyes glancing between the both of you.

"We're not. I'm single and little miss BDE over here has a boyfriend," Jake replied, poking you in the side with his finger. In your surprise you let out a high pitched squeal and jumped a little, almost falling off of the bench but caught by Jake and Nat, who had lunged across the table to catch your arm.

You found your seat againt, "Right, Cyclone or Iceman, who goes where?" You asked

"Ooh kinky," Jake whispered in your ear and you slapped his arm again.

"You're a menace," you said with a smile

"What are you gonna do about it? Tell your boyfriend?" He mocked in a low voice only audible to you, swinging an arm around you and pulling you into a hug, "you know what, guys, I think Y/n needs to be the deciding vote on this one," he said loud enough for the still arguing squad to hear.

"Why's that?" Coyote asked, raising an eyebrow in question

"She's the only one of us who hasn't been either told off by the Admiral for reckless flying," he nodded towards Rooster who had received a stern talking too after passing too close to a control tower and making the Admiral spill coffee all over himself, "Or snapped at by Cyclone for a reason or another," he said, meaning the rest of the squad. Even Halo hadn't been spared after forgetting her manual in her dorm on a day Cyclone had been particularly grumpy.

They all seemed to agree with Jake. He looked at you expectantly, grinning mischievously and wriggling his eyebrows.

You pretended to think about it for a second, "I'm going to go with Cyclone --" you replied

"Going to go with me for what?" He asked from behind, clearly surprising the rest of the squad too. You closed your eyes and tried to no avail to stop the crimson blush creeping up to your face, "Lieutenant L/n? Anyone care to explain?"

"We were ranking everyone by BDE, Sir" Jake replied.

Warlock, faithfully standing by Cyclone's side, fished his phone out of his pocket with the hand that wasn't holding his coffee while the Vice Admiral looked over the group of blushing squad members.

"Lieutenant L/n, pray tell me, what on earth is BDE?" He asked

"It's -- err --" you stuttered out

"Sir," Warlock said, holding out his phone for Cyclone to see, having no doubt pulled up the definition. With every sentence he read, Beau's eyebrows shot up a little more.

"My office, please. Now." He told you with a tone as cool as ice.

"Yessir" you obeyed, standing up and walking off in front of him, your eyes firmly trained on your shoes.

"You're an ass," you told him as soon as the door locked behind him in his office.

Beau snorted, "I'm the ass? Seresin lured you into that trap and I'm the ass," he said with a smile.

"I am not dating Seresin," you replied,

"I couldn't tell," he mocked, sitting himself down on the edge of the desk with his legs crossed

"Beau--" you started, ready to explain Jake was just a friend

"I'm joking " he laughed, "I know he's not your type," he winked

"Damn right," you laughed, coming closer to Beau until you stood in front of him, "My type is you," you said, leaning in to kiss him.

"Is he coming on Friday?" Beau asked when you broke the kiss, trying to change the subject to keep your behaviour vaguely work-appropriate.

You hummed, "Should I make dessert or do you think we'll have enough," you asked.

You had been agonising over the food since Beau had told you he wanted to hold a housewarming party to celebrate you both moving in together in the new apartment. There wouldn't be many guests, only Jake, your sister and Beau's brothers, their wives and their children, but you were still worried there wouldn't be enough food to eat.

"Make that pie we had on Friday," he answered, "Jake said he was bringing wine, right?"

"And a side," you replied, secretly hoping he'd also bring his mother's famous peach crumble as well as the potato salad you had requested.

Jake was a surprisingly amazing baker, so much so that he'd been the only one of his family to have been given a copy of Nicolette Seresin's cookbook, containing dozens of state fair baking competition winning recipes. In fact, Jake had been the one to teach you how to bake in the first place.

"Perfect. Think I can bribe him into manning the grill?" Beau asked

"Probably," you replied, "You'll need that beer he likes though," you said. Jake wasn't actually a big drinker and much preferred a soda to anything else, but there was one specific brand he liked, a belgian import with an impossible name, that he would do just about anything for.

"I think this is a convincing amount of time for a reprimand, don't you?" Beau said after waiting another few minutes

"Wow, way to tell me to leave," you joked

Beau laughed, "I would never, honey, you know that. You could literally be attached to me and I still wouldn't be spending enough time with you," he replied, holding you close for another kiss

"You're a sap," you laughed

"Only for you, babygirl," he said, "I love you,".

"I love you too," you replied, pecking his lips one last time

"Wait!" He said, "Who's number one?"

"Ian. Flightplan Ian,"

"Ian? 'I am afraid of pigeons' Ian?" He asked incredulously and you nodded

"The outburst did it," you explained

Beau hummed, "But I'll always be first for you, right?"

"I'm going now," you replied with a smile

"Y/n, I'll always be first right?" He asked again as you unlocked the door and stepped out with a smile, Beau sprinted out behind you but stopped right outside his office. He looked around at the empty corridor, "Traitor!" He shouted. You were scared you had actually offended him for a moment but when you looked back at him you saw he was smiling.

"Love you too!" You shouted back

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #original fic #beau simpson x reader #beau simpson #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone x reader #cyclone

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catofadifferentcolor · 1 year

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Terrible Fic Ideas #20: LotR, but make it First Age!Legolas

I've been slowly falling back into the LotR fandom and I have to say that, although there is a lot to recommend the idea of Legolas being one of the youngest elves we come across in the series, I personally love the idea of him being one of the oldest - older, in fact, that Elrond himself.

Hear me out:

We have absolutely no idea how old Legolas is in canon. All we know for certain is that his father, Thranduil, was born and lived for at least a few years in Doriath before the Second Kinslaying in the winter of 506 FA.

This could mean that Thranduil was just a child at the time, but I love the idea that he was a young adult of no more than 500, because that would make him old enough to have 1) a child fight and die in the Sack as a young recruit in the city guard, and 2) for his wife to give birth to Legolas literally as they're fleeing the destruction. (After all, Legolas, green leaf, sounds like something you'd name an elf child in the immediate aftermath of tragedy - the elven version of hope.)

So this gives a Legolas born in the ashes of Doriath, whose day of birth was the day his older sibling (and possibly a great deal of extended family) died, 26 years before Elrond and Elros are born.

This Legolas would also, perhaps, have been old enough to fight in the War of Wrath. He would have lived through the rise of Sauron and the forging of the rings of power, fought at the Battle of Dagorlad and seen his grandfather Oropher (and who knows how many other kin) die, seen the Wizards come to Middle Earth in 1000 TA, and Sauron take up residence in what had once been his grandfather's capital.

The upshot of all of this is, at the Council of Elrond, Legolas would be roughly 6544 and been part and party to all of the same major events as his host, albeit in a somewhat more minor role.

This changes very little, except the entire Fellowship is peppered with these comments that make everyone wonder. The slight digs he makes about famous Nodor elves? Just the traditional animosity of the Wood Elves towards them and absolutely not the result of Legolas having known them in life. Celeborn says something about greeting his young kinsman? The rest of the Fellowship never hears the I'm only twenty years younger than you and that stopped being funny after our third millennia that follows. Legolas occasionally talks about famous historical places and events like he was actually there? That's just the way of elves.

I'm an inveterate Legolas/Gimli stan, so I imagine that as their relationship develops Gimli comes to understand just how much this seemingly young elf has actually lived through, but nobody else does. Not until the conclusion of Battle of Morannon does anyone know the truth - and even then his comment of "it makes a nice change to leave this battlefield without leaving so many kin upon it" is misinterpreted until he goes on to mention something only someone who had been there would know.

The revelation is a bit of a shock, because how is the knowledge that the elf you thought was a couple hundred years old at most is older than Elrond not be a shock? But, again, it doesn't change much.

Except the dynamics of Legolas and Gimli's relationship, because how can it not when Legolas was born in the ashes of a city sacked by dwarves? When Legolas himself has seen the rise and fall of Moria? Rather than overcoming inherited racism their relationship becomes one of I have seen the best and worst Middle Earth has to offer and choose to love you.

Bonuses include 1) Legolas saying some things that really only make sense if he was an older elf, but the rest of the Fellowship running rings to explain them away because there's no way in their minds this particular elf is even 500, 2) Gandalf knowing of the misunderstanding and encouraging it because it's harmless mischief, 3) Legolas being really unimpressed by most of the major figures in Middle Earth history as only someone who knew them as a moody teenager can be.

And that's really all I have. Feel free to use the idea, just let me know if you ever do.

NB: I've expanded upon this idea somewhat here.

Other Legolas Headcanons: First Age | Second Age | Third Age | Half-Maia | Half-Elven

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #lotr #legolas #lord of the rings #legolas x gimli #legolas headcanon #the lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr headcanons

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patrocles · 2 years

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rickon stark - political hostage?

So if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you’ll know that I have a weird interest in the island of Skagos. It’s partly waiting-for-Winds-brainrot, and partly because I just think it’s weird and interesting. It’s an island no one in the present story has been to, that’s got weird history with the North and the Starks, and the setting where a geriatric with missing fingers has to go find a toddler who some other guy wants to make a lord... what’s not to love!

A while ago, I made a joke about how people on Skagos are so isolated, that they probably don’t have any idea of the happenings of Westeros and the Starks lost the North. I did a chortle and then I realized... wait... that’s entirely plausible.

Before we even get into the hairy armpits of my batshit ramblings, Bran and Rickon still don’t know that Robb and Catelyn are dead. (Bran dreams of Grey Wind being dead, but definitely doesn’t know about Cat). There’s a possibility that Rickon may know, as he’s also had dreams like with Ned’s death, but no one there to confirm it for either of them.

So for Davos to show up and want to take him back, and if he explains why (that Rickon is presumed to be the last living male heir of House Stark), this puts the Skagosi in a jackpot of a political situation. I know we love the idea of Rickon showing up with his Skagosi army to save the day, but really? Given everything we know about Skagos, there’s no incentive for them to 1. Send Rickon back, 2. Help restore House Stark, 3. Not just kill him or use him for ransom.

Does this sound kind of outlandish and maybe ridiculous considering how little we know about the island? Maybe! But here’s why I think it bears looking into:

House Stark got its start as a conqueror house. Removing what we know about the last several generations of Starks as the cold, noble and just house that defends the North, Ancient Starks are a whole other story. A third of all of Westeros has been under their control for thousands of years and that doesn’t just happen by accident. Most of the Houses that exist in the North at present were former petty kingdoms and while the Starks have had amical relationships with them over the millennia (save for the Boltons), such has not been the case for the Skagosi. (There was a misconception that a Skagosi woman recently married in, but I think people are thinking of Arya Flint)

All throughout Northern history there’s been rebellions and invasions from the Skagosi going back thousands of years and as recent as the reign of Daeron II Targaryen (184-209AC). A king Brandon IX apparently “broke their power” by destroying their ships and forbidding them from sailing, save for around their islands. It sounds a bit harsh considering the ironborn never got that treatment and they’ve been raiding Westeros for centuries.

It seems like the Skagosi are the one group of people that the Starks have never bothered to bring into the North; alliances with marriage, using the Skagosi as a naval power that the North has never really had. They’ve had animosity with the Boltons for as much long time as them and Starks (well up until presently), have managed to keep a somewhat cordial relationship. And it feels weird that they couldn’t considering the sheer size of Skagos (comparatively, they’ve got more landmass than the Iron Islands combined)- and they’re in an incredible position for trading since they know how to navigate the seas around them when few others do. And god only knows what ore and mineral resources they have in their mountains (Maybe it’s intentionally kept a secret to keep the North and others off Skagos? But that’s another conspiracy theory for another time).

What we know about the Skagosi is soaked in fear propaganda and weird eurgenics-y writings from Maesters, but nothing from anyone that’s been to Skagosi themselves or Skagosi at all. (And bear in mind that what’s written in TWOW is from the point of view of biased sources, not everything is fact). And if we know anything about what GRRM, he’s sung this tune before about ethnic groups that are first thought of as terrifying and monstrous but are actually just people trying to survive. Like sure Roose Bolton is going to be my trusted source of cultural ethics and morality, okay.

But I digress, even if the Skagosi aren’t these terrifying cannibal people as we’ve been told who’ve had nothing else to disprove that except generational boogyman stories, it doesn’t mean they have any reason to help Rickon Stark, or Wyman Manderly restore the very house that has left them isolated and disconnected from the rest of the world. Of course we know that Rickon is just a little boy and his remaining family is just a bunch of traumatized kids who just want to go home. But Rickon represents ancient grudge. As disconnected as they are from the rest of the North, they likely hold onto those grudges longer and worse.

The North Remembers is not just some misused slogan HBO tacked on everything while they forgot Robb Stark’s name in the later seasons of game of thrones. It’s the ethics of the North. Just like like the current lords won’t forget who orchestrated the mass murder of their families at the Red Wedding, the Skagosi won’t forget the family that they’ve been enemies of since forever.

So where do we go from here? What does this mean for Rickon? Well, if I were an economically depressed island stuck in the stone ages because of a family that done goof’d and got themselves kicked out of their house and country and I have the very golden ticket to their restoration, and also I’m dangerously close to where the undead army is, would I not want to leverage that for something that could be beneficial to me?

Maybe I consider levelling up my proposition by not only helping Rickon win his war with men and supplies, but knowing that this would indebt the other houses to me for years (say resettlement in the North?). Maybe I make an even swap- a naval fleet which Wyman Manderly just happened to complete which would make me extremely powerful, for a 5 year old wolf child who might not make it to the end of the war anyways.

There’s options!

Though one interesting thing to consider which might influence what the lords of Skagos want to do with Rickon, is that Rickon is not just some random kid. He’s a Stark and a remnant of their ancient enemy yes. BUT he’s a warg, a skinchanger, and has greensight. This is a lot for a toddler. But in this, Rickon represents a the Old Ancient Magic associated with the North-- the Old Ancient North that’s never left Skagos or been influenced by outside forces or Andal culture. These are true First Men. If they still practice archaic things like ritualistic sacrifice at the weirwood trees, there’s no doubt that they wouldn’t consider Rickon damn near godlike. Sure he’s only a child now, but what about when he’s an adult? One could say that they might revere him as a gift from the Old Gods. Who’s to say that they would even want to give him back? And what for- to be made their enemy again, a more powerful one than previous Stark kings and lords?

They may be a bit behind in the times, but I’d not be so quick to call them stupid. Especially since Davos is very likely about to blow Rickon and Osha’s cover even if SOMEHOW no one on Skagos knew who they were and why some random Stormlander has sailed all the way here to take them back? (as if the wolf wasn’t a dead giveaway). But I think regardless, Davos is on the diplomatic mission of his life and it’s gonna be way more complex than Rickon and the Cannibal Army

So yeah... that’s what I think is going on up there.

#a song of ice and fire #rickon stark #skagos #why do i care so much we know literally nothing #long thots

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saintarchie · 1 year

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The Nile Song

How delicate is this outfit that it can be worn out after six uses?

Last time around, the Hidden Village of the crystalists was wiped out by Einheria. This time, while she is hanging out here for some reason, the place was deserted before she arrived, presumably due to that earthquake that killed Olivia. Maybe not even that; Ringabel describes the place as looking like it’s been deserted for years rather than months. Einheria agrees, noting that she has come here several times now without ever seeing anybody. As for why the place is empty, she has a theory about that: The Orthodoxy’s corruption caused them to rot away and collapse from within.

Agnès is willing to concede that the Orthodoxy’s leadership may well have been corrupt, but also knows for a fact that Einheria has been oppressing ordinary worshippers who have nothing to do with that. Einheria doesn’t deny this; stating that the Duchy’s goal is to get people to renounce crystalism by whatever means necessary, and thus weaken what remains of the Orthodoxy’s power and influence. That said, she isn’t entirely on board with the methods being pursued by the Bloodrose Legion here in Florem. For that reason, she understands Edea’s betrayal, even if she can’t excuse it.

Edea tries to talk her into defecting as well, but Einheria dismisses the idea immediately; she swore an oath to uphold the grand marshal’s ideals and isn’t prepared to break it. The fact that the Legion itself has compromised those ideals doesn’t give her the right to abandon them. I mean... It kind of does though? If anything, the Legion turning away from Braev’s ideals should mean that her oath now compels her to turn away from the Legion. But it would appear not; Einheria’s belief that the world will be better off once freed of crystalism is apparently strong enough to override her sense of virtue. Perhaps inevitably then, she throws down the gauntlet and challenges Edea to pit their ideals against each other.

It feels pretty similar to the first time we fought her. Not too difficult, but takes a long time to get through because every time she uses Spirit Barrier the battle gets dragged out another ten turns.

She uses Spirit Barrier frequently.

Some time later, Einheria is defeated, leaving behind a last request for Edea: meet with Braev in person, and so understand what it is that he’s seeking. Edea is tactful enough not to mention that she already tried this and it didn’t work.

That leaves the Water Temple, and Rusalka, which I remember being kind of a pain to fight, but I can’t remember why. *tries fighting it* Oh right, it can clone itself. Fuck.

[some more time later]

I fucking hate this thing what the fuck.

[even more time later]

OK, that’s done. Fuck. Agnès awakens the Water Crystal without any trouble, but afterwards realises that her Vestal Garb has become so worn out that it won’t be usable for the last two crystals. Which means it needs repairing, which means going to see Yulyana. I had tried looking for him earlier, but the Needleworks were empty, so I guess he only appears after you’ve awoken two crystals.

In any event, he’s there now, but naturally doesn’t recognise his visitors. Or seems not to. When pressed, he describes this meeting as “the third time” but that the party might think of it as “the first”. When Agnès asks what he means by that, he answers with a question of his own: What world are you from? The party are naturally taken aback by this question and everything it implies, Yulyana invites them in to discuss the matter further.

Inside, he asks if Agnès is aware of his role in foundation of the Duchy and his history with DeRosso. He seems rather shocked when she explains that she only knows part of the story, remarking that his future self has been very lax in not telling her everything up front. Who are you, me? Apparently deciding to make up for his other self’s shortcomings, he then tells her to bring her most trustworthy ally (and only that person) to the nearby cave where he’ll tell her more and restore the vestal garb for her.

After he leaves, the party debate which of them should go, with Airy and Ringabel each insisting it ought to be them, while Tiz maintains that Agnès should decide the matter herself. This latter point seems to settle the question in Agnès’s mind, and she asks Tiz to see her outside, much to Edea’s amusement.

Outside, they reminisce about their first meeting and the time they’ve spent together, realising, after a lot of awkward pauses, that Tiz has indeed become her most trusted ally. Returning to the others, they find that Edea & Ringabel are in agreement with this assessment. Airy is less enthusiastic about letting Agnès go off without her, but the others overrule her and send Agnès & Tiz on their way.

In the cave, they find Yulyana, who remarks on what a fine pair they make, lamenting the fact that he's 1,880 years too old to pair up with Agnès himself. For some reason, Agnès seems surprised to learn how old the sage is, even though she already found out about his immortality. Possibly this is the game hedging for the benefit of players who hadn’t gone through the Vampire Castle yet. Regardless, she and Tiz take the revelation(?) in stride and ask Yulyana to tell them what he knows. Yulyana answers their question with a question, asking if they understand what he meant when he described himself as meeting them for the first time. In other words, are they from another timeline? After some hesitation, Agnès admits that they are.

Yulyana asks if Agnès’s only memory of him is from when the previous vestal brought her to see him. Agnès says it is, so I guess they mean “before they met again in the previous timeline”. Yulyana explains that that wasn’t their first meeting; from his perspective, that happened over 1,800 years earlier. Again, Agnès & Tiz act as though they haven’t already heard this story, or known about Yulyana’s immense age. Yulyana gives them a quick recap of his history with DeRosso and the angel they encountered during their final battle, but unlike when DeRosso told this story, Yulyana actually makes note of the significance of Agnès sharing the angel’s appearance.

He also goes into a bit more detail about what she actually said: That before the rise of the old faith, it was thought better for humans not to come in contact with the crystals at all. This was because unleashing the power of the crystals without due care can destroy the borders (of what?), opening the door to something called the Harrowing. Apparently there have been warnings about this since before recorded history, which makes it slightly odd that this is the first we’re hearing about it. Tiz asks the obvious question, but it seems that the angel never actually explained what the Harrowing is, leaving Yulyana to spend the next eighteen centuries trying to figure that out, without success.

He has, at least, got some of it figured out; it isn’t the Great Chasm, although the Chasm is one of the signs that it’s about to happen. He speculates that it could be the environmental damage caused by the corrupted crystals, and Agnès explains that they had managed to solve all of that in the prior timeline and were about to use the Holy Pillar to close up the Great Chasm as well. Yulyana seems sceptical on that last point, noting that the events Agnès describes are exactly what the angel said would happen immediately before the Harrowing.

Bizarrely, nobody involved in this conversation makes the connection to Airy, despite her being the one to come up with this plan. I understand that they’d be reluctant to start assuming the worst of a friend like that, but it’s still weird that the possibility doesn’t seem to have occurred to any of them. Yulyana doesn’t tell the party not to continue reawakening crystals, but does warn them to think carefully about the possible consequences of their actions. As for the sage himself, seeing Agnès has renewed his youthful vigour, and so he’s going off on a journey of his own.

On their way out, Agnès & Tiz consider what they’ve learned, and speculate whether Yulyana actually told them the whole story. “But why would he leave us in the dark?” Who are you, me? Neither can think of a good answer to this question, so they continue on. Outside, the party regroups, but aside from Airy worrying about the strange ideas that Yulyana might have been filling their heads with (like not bringing about the Harrowing, perhaps?) they don’t have much else to say.

This mostly just recapped things we already knew, though we do at least now have a name for the awful thing that we’re being manipulated into causing.

All that remains is to go continue causing it.

#archie plays bravely default

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fuckyeahvanhalen86-95 · 1 year

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Wolfgang Van Halen, the ex-bassist of the band Van Halen and son of the late guitarist Eddie Van Halen, has offered an update on the progress of the recording sessions for the second Mammoth WVH album. The effort will be the follow-up to "Mammoth WVH", which arrived in June 2021, some five years after the now-31-year-old musician began piecing together ideas for his solo career.

Speaking to Metal Talk, Wolfgang said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "I'm about halfway through [the recording process]. I got a bunch of stuff recorded before we started on this tour. And then once I go home, I'll have a little holiday break, but then in January I'm gonna finish it. So it'll be ready to be released some time next year."

This past March, Wolfgang said during an appearance on "Whiplash", the KLOS radio show hosted by Full Metal Jackie, that he was hoping to begin working on the follow-up to "Mammoth WVH" at some point in the not-too-distant future. "Basically, I certainly don't wanna take as long as it did," he explained. "I think throughout that first process, I was really just figuring out what it was and who I was as my own artist, finding my own sound and discovering who I was as a lead singer, as a songwriter. But when it comes to the next album, now that I've figured out what this is and who I am, within the context of it, I'm really excited to figure out how to condense that process to as an efficient of time as possible, so I can get an album done in a third of the time while it being twice as good. It's always a personal challenge."

In February, Wolfgang told SiriusXM's "Trunk Nation With Eddie Trunk" that he had already gathered plenty of material for Mammoth WVH's sophomore effort. "I'm very ready to get back in the studio," he said. "We have some leftover tracks from the first album that I'd like to take another look at — maybe add stuff or maybe redo entirely — and then a bunch of new ideas to get into."

Mammoth WVH's debut album was released via Explorer1 Music Group/EX1 Records.

Featuring Wolfgang on vocals and all instruments, "Mammoth WVH" was met with positive reviews and topped Billboard's Top Hard Rock Albums and Top Rock Albums charts.

Mammoth WVH's first single, "Distance", reached No. 1 on the MediaBase and BDS Active Rock Radio charts. A tribute to Wolfgang's father, the song was not originally intended to be on Mammoth WVH's debut album, but due to the overwhelming response to its accompanying video, which has been viewed over six million times on YouTube, it was added as a bonus track. All of Wolfgang's proceeds from "Distance" are being donated to Mr. Holland's Opus.

"Distance" is an open letter to Wolfgang's father, declaring "no matter what the distance is, I will be with you." The video for the song is created from a collection of family home movies through the years and offers an inside look in to one of music's most notable personalities. Chronicling the family through the years, the video ends with a touching voicemail left from Eddie to his son.

Asked why he decided to play all the instruments on Mammoth WVH's first LP, Wolfgang said in a 2021 interview: "I just figured since I could play everything, I wanted to see if I could do it. [Laughs] Basically, I just wanted to see. And then, since I could — at least I think I could; I guess it's up to everybody else to decide — I had such a fun time in the studio that I'm looking forward to getting back in there and doing it [again]."

In November 2020, Wolfgang confirmed that he asked his father for permission to use the Mammoth WVH band name for his solo project. Mammoth WVH is a nod to family history — Eddie and Alex Van Halen's band was called MAMMOTH when singer David Lee Roth first joined it in 1974.

Mammoth WVH's touring lineup features Wolfgang on guitar and lead vocals, Frank Sidoris (Slash featuring Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators) on guitar, Jon Jourdan on guitar and vocals, Garrett Whitlock (Tremonti) on drums, and Ronnie Ficarro on bass.

Mammoth WVH made its television debut in February 2021, performing "Distance" on "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" and running through an exclusive acoustic arrangement on "Today".

On November 11, Mammoth WVH released a digital deluxe edition of the debut album via EX1 Records. The new digital deluxe features the bonus track from the Japanese version of the album, "Talk & Walk", as well as two previously unreleased tracks, "As Long As You're Not You" and "Goodbye".

youtube

#post van halen #mammoth wvh #mammoth #wolfgang van halen #eddie van halen #2022 #blabbermouth #klos #Whiplash #full metal jackie #Metal Talk #youtube #videos #sirius xm #trunk nation with eddie trunk

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bunnyandbooks · 1 year

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Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution by R. F. Kuang

This book has been getting a lot of traction on social media so I was interested to read it. Very briefly (and for my own recollection later), it centers around a boy from Canton, orphaned by the plague, who is summarily rescued just on the cusp of death that claimed his family and brought to England by Professor Lovell to be trained in the art of translation, with the goal of getting admission to Oxford’s prestigious translation school, nicknamed “Babel.” In this world, the industrial revolution occurs through the globalization of languages, using the connotative gaps in translation of words to proliferate magical effects through the medium of silver, which means non-English kids like the boy, self-named “Robin,” are valuable. But as Robin grows up and wrestles with the inherent colonialism of Babel, he struggles with his own morals that both privileges him and enslaves him. Possible spoilers under the cut.

There’s a lot going on from the just the title -- you can pick this book up and guess it’s probably not going to end happy. Kuang isn’t exactly hiding the ball on what her thesis is, and the story hammers it home pretty clearly: violence is necessary to disrupt and challenge inherently racist institutions. This is the conclusion that Robin spends the entire 500 page novel coming to; the rebels championing a non-violent solution are killed; Robin’s former cohort, a white woman named Letty, who ostensibly champions changing the system from within is so unforgivable by the end of the book that nothing she says sounds credible -- a bit like Glinda in Wicked, if Glinda didn’t have any character development; the other white woman character in the book only finds redemption through death. There isn’t any room for compromise in Kuang’s book, but it’s also important to remember that a reconciliation story is now what she’s setting out to tell here.

Babel is inherently an allegory to government institutions that benefit from foreign assets and knowledge, who thrive off the exploitation of people, but are offended by the notion of such foreign nation and its people’s own sovereignty. The briefest reviews of any period of history can show scenarios that are applicable. And because Kuang is so learned and so brilliant, and is a skilled linguist and writer, she can weave an incredibly compelling narrative that explains the philology that forms the basis of the unique magic system in this book, while also expounding on the socio-economic ramifications of both colonialism and also domestic rebellion. While I agree with a lot of assessments that the pace is slow, I never once felt bored, and I credit to her strength as a writer.

I suppose if I have any complaints, the first was the lack of resolution. Even Les Miserables, which I kept thinking of throughout the third act, showed us the final defeat, with the townsfolk sadly picking up the pieces. We don’t know the result of the great last stand by the translators’ rebellion, and it feels rather unsatisfying. It also felt unfair that we get introduced to Victoire in the epilogue of the 500 page book, especially given that takes place of a true resolution. Couldn’t she at least have heard news?

The second is related to the lack of compromise, I suppose. Robin and his cohorts are motivated to take down racist institutions largely because of loyalty to the motherlands from which they were stolen, and most characters don’t have any ties to those countries in the present day of the narrative. Instead of focusing on acting because it’s the right thing to do, it’s the idea that people of color, and I say this as a person of color, owe something to the land of our ancestors. Which does not account for people who are bi-cultural. And that solid line of a person of color only allowed to belong to one bothered me, though I again had to remind myself that Babel wasn’t that kind of story. So it was mostly about fighting my inherent biases, too.

#ARC #borrowed book #r.f.kuang #dark academia #fantasy #historical fantasy #aapinh literature #aapinh heritage month

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theeversocelebratedmarktwain · 1 year

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The Ideas of ‘Mark’ing Your Travels

Hello Readers!

It is the third week of the blog. I am almost sure that I have no readers following along this expedition I am reading, writing, and experiencing along this way. At this point in my education on Mark Twain specifically, I have learned so much more than just the general scraping at the top of a man that left a large imprint on not just a nation, but to those around him. I will say this for him- the things that have me rethink his character are things that I have never heard anyone ever celebrate him for. For a man in a time period that “excuses” so many peoples actions because “its how they did back then”, Twain had some serious progressive beliefs AND followed them with genuine courses of action.

The story of Warner McGuinn is a story that should be retold and celebrated for Black History. McGuinn was one the first Black Americans to be accepted to Yale University and became a law student graduate for the 1887 class. Twain became inspired through his friendship with McGuinn and offered to pay his tuition for Yale since McGuinn had to work three jobs to stay afloat. Of course, McGuinn denied the offer and told him no. However, Twain did something different. This part is where the masses are divided on whether Twain’s actions were for a ‘white savior complex’ or genuine and from his heart. In the Ken Burns documentary on Mark Twain’s life, the narrator states that Twain wrote a letter to the President of Yale University and explained the situation. He said (and I am paraphrasing) that we (white people-especially those of privilege and status) are responsible for the economic, physical, and society standing points for all Black Americans because they allowed this systemic racism infiltrate and consume the entire way of American living that it was never McGuinn’s fault for not having the finances to afford college. He said “It is out faults that they are in these situations. The shame was never theirs, but it is ours, and we should pay.” In this context, I feel like Twain (unknowingly) decided to pay for McGuinn’s schooling as one of the first recorded unofficial minority scholarships in America.

As far as reading materials, we have been reading Terry Mort’s edition of Mark Twain on Travel which gives insight and clippings from his Innocents Abroad book where he toured the European and Middle Eastern continents and documented his travels. I must admit, the way Twain describes Americans is a very humorous way that still reflects on American ideals to this modern generation. Imagine being stuck on a celebrity steam cruise with a B-list celebrity that is educated enough to be the only person on the ship that appreciates the culture he is witnessing while also ready to strangle the worst stereotypes of American travelers that he can only get so far away from.

Twain reminds us readers how humbling it is to see a new world so different from the one we live in day to day. In comparison to his American counterparts, Twain describes moments where surrealism overcomes him while understand the depth of historical places that holds no value to a society he has been born and raised in. When he is in the Middle East, he sees The Sphinx and has an outer-body experience. It says “It was the type of an attribute of man--of a faculty of his heart and brain. It was a MEMORY--RETROSPECTION--wrought into visible, tangible form. All who know what pathos there is in memories of days that are accomplished and faces that have vanished-- albeit only a trifling score of years gone by--will have some appreciation of the pathos that dwells in these grave eyes that look so steadfastly back upon the things they knew before History was born--before Tradition has being--things that were and forms that moved in a vague era which even Poetry and Romance scarce know of--and passed one by one away and left the stony dreamer solitary in the midst of a strange new age and uncomprehended scenes.” (Twain on Travel, 148). Here is a man who recognizes his smallness in a world that is so large, full of so many people with so many different cultures, and we’re just blessed to live on a beautiful Earth that is catered to us.

In the beginning of this class, our professor had a presentation of famous Mark Twain quotes. With no surprise, I was not inspired by any of them. It felt very “celebrating bare minimum ideas” to me. However, across my research is where I found the quote that I have posted with his picture from the beginning in the blog. This quote is an exert from Innocents Abroad where he travels and says “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime”. I cannot imagine another quote hitting with more resonation or enlightenment than this one brought forth.

I look forward to getting to know more of Twain himself as I read through his work these next couple of weeks. While I am surprised of the person that we are studying, I will focus through the next part of this journey on Samuel Clemens vs. Mark Twain. While they are both the same body, they are direct contradictions to each other and face collateral damage as an effect from their internal struggle.

#marktwain #innocentsabroad progressive travel UM

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starryflix · 1 year

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Teachers

The 26th of November, 2022

So, how to explain to people that a good one and a half year after graduating high school you are still in contact with your old mentor? That is most definitely the case for me. We (kinda, I am only home on the weekends) live in the same town, not all that far from another, but it's not like I come from a small village at all. It's not all that common to keep that good of contact with an old teacher.

I ran into her yesterday and she seemed really happy to see me, as I had spend an entire year abroad and have now moved 3 hours away for my studies. She then asked me if I'd like to join her and her wife and kids for a walk with lights for a Dutch children's holiday.

I talked with her a while during the walk, and am, just like last summer with all of my friends actually, been invited to stop by for tea another time to catch up in a more convenient setting. I will get back to her later.

I have a handful of teachers during my 16 years in the school system that have been of great importance for who I am as today and it has furthered my ideas that schools and teachers can actually leave a good and big impact on the next generation if they really wish to do so. Good teachers truly care about their students.

The first two teachers to achieve this were my year 5 (I think if translated to the English/American system? It's 'groep 7' in the Dutch system.) and year 6 (Groep 8) teachers. My 5th grade teacher is the one that pushed my drawing and once told me I would be a writer one day. 10 year old me called him crazy but he did turn out to be right.

I am writing and planning an entire Fantasy Novel.

Whenever I went back to visit my primary school for several reasons, one of which being picking up my younger sibling, he always asked me to see my drawings and showed them to his students. They were apparently always so impressed that I even got asked to give a few guest lessons where I tought them to draw. This actually continued on even after his retirement with my year 6 teacher, another one of great importance as she always felt generally so safe and calm, someone who gave me the same support as the year 5 one. Most of the trouble started when I was 9, but even before that I dealt a lot with being excluded and left out, and thus these two teachers gave me the first bout of confidence in my own abilities and naturally saw my interests in art, writing and teaching and instead of berating me for practicing them they supported me. 10-11 year old me needed that confidence a lot. They gave me extra tips and tricks and opportunities to utilise my talents. Every time I hesitated if I should just quit or give up I could hear their voices in the back of my mind pushing me forwards.

Then came my first year of high school which was hell. The teachers were not understanding at all, I had just started topsport and I was 11-almost-12 and struggling. I was young, I admit. The Dutch schooling system also does not know a middle school so it was a large leap and I felt unsupported through the entirety of it. Never mind being actually bullied there for not being 'normal' and for apparently underachieving even when I got a passing grade.

It took a lot of my energy and when I finally decided to switch schools a lot of me had been lost to insecurity and fear.

Insert my theater and history teacher of my second and third years. (year 8 and 9 for the american system)

My theatre teacher helped me find a passion through the arts again, as did a large part of the art department. I was pushed to do what I enjoyed and to stop caring about others. It helped me along greatly. Then came my third year of high school, the most traumatic year of my life and details be damned my mother got diagnosed with cancer for the third time and was sure not to survive. Bless my history teacher and mentor of that year for the way he handled it. 2016-17, a godawful year that he helped me through swimmingly. He made it easy for me to communicate with him, he supported and talked with me whenever needed and made sure to also care for the communication with the other teachers and the higher ups. He has supported me more than I can ever put to words, also in the change from lower-high school to higher-high school. The transition from year 3 to 4, with completely new teachers and a new mentor went also so swift due to his tenacity and care and I will forever be thankful for my theater and history teacher for caring so much. They even went to my mother's funeral as to support me a little, since they seemed aware I took a great deal of strength from their support. They went beyond what they were expected to do. Beyond what anyone expects of a school, of teachers. Yet they were there to help me. I was 13 and 14 at the time and this was the external support I was missing, they filled in where friends were supposed to be. Friends I didn't have.

I just want to make a really clear note that everything of course went within professional boundaries and never once was there any question of anything else or other intent. With recent stories and such surfacing I want to clarify that none of that was the case. I have multiple witnesses and friends, among family and my father to contest to this. They were all parental figures in a sense.

Another teacher important in my third year was my English teacher, English teacher M. (as the other one, my mentor S, is the other one that's important haha... Gay kids and English teachers.. I guess.)

M was super sweet and by doing a very simple thing helped me immensely. It's hard for a lot of people that knew me around that time to fathom me flunking my English class, but I went from a 4 to a 9 within a year all because M realised that learning simple grammar wasn't working for me. In turn she told me I could neglect some of my homework and I should just start writing. There it is again; writing apparently a magic word. I would write something and she would read it and correct any mistakes. This way I learned a lot more than by simply following the lessons.

Then onto two of the most important teachers I ever had in my life. L, my social sciences teacher and mentor and S, the mentor and English teacher mentioned earlier and at the beginning. L and S, as it turned out, are also best friends. I didn't know this until like three years into meeting both of them.

They kind of became mother figures after my mother passed away. Just two adults I looked up. L had studied psychology and it's thanks to her I opened up and started talking and didn't hesitate to search for professional help. She asked me the right questions when I didn't even know myself. I was known to omit the actual answer and answer with facts whenever someone asked if I was okay and L was the best in figuring out how to actually get me to talk. S came later and took over from L. But both never stopped making sure I was doing alright, mentally and in the educational sense. I wish I could honestly put into words what they did for me, how important they still are even if I left the school two years ago. These two... truly. What I said before of the teachers from my second high school going beyond, these two went so far and were so important and intertwined with my last four years (I had to resit my 5th year, again 11th in the american system) and stood up for me and guided me whenever I struggled. When S was diagnosed with cancer she cared more about me than some (in my opinion) more important people, she notified my dad of the news beforehand, before telling it to me, to make sure he could support me and knew what was going on, she asked him if it would be better to tell me earlier or to tell me with the rest of the class. She told our mentor class before informing some of her colleagues. At that point in time only her direct family and the directors of the school knew about it. And I was next on that list of important people. It still baffles me, and I still want to sometimes hit her upside the head for taking care of me before anything else.

L, at this point in time, had already silently taken over mentorship for me. And S kept repeating that she understood if I liked to have L more as a mentor than her multiple times, while in all reality both were kind of accidentally doing the same things anyway. These two cared about me when it seemed no one else (besides my family) did and helped me ground myself, find myself on my feet again.

L once asked me if I thought I wouldn't have run into mental problems sans my mother anyway. It was a 'what if?' question but she poised a point that was important. I was dealing with more than just grief at the same time. And L and S helped me through all of it, whether direct or indirect. When I started to (more openly) struggle with my sexuality and gender, but also confidence and finding my footing and finding friends, these two were there to help me figure out any doubts. Specifically because while I knew my dad would be accepting it wouldn't have been the same, and coming out to him was really scary. There is honestly so so much to say and tell about these two incredible human beings. It just makes me look up to them that much more.

Teachers, and just in general role models in life, can leave such a big and positive impact behind. It seems a little silly in hindsight, penning this down, knowing damn well my experience is a special case and an odd one, but it shows in a hyperbole the impact someone can have on someone else's life even by being simply sweet and accepting. To just simply support someone and someone's interests.

Coming back on S, I sometimes truly miss seeing her face at school everyday. But I also know that I will always be welcome to stop by for a cup of tea and a chat. Even if it's been years.

S is someone who might give a little too much of her self for the sake of others, one day I just hope I can return her a favour. She means a lot to me.

I think a lot of my inspiration comes from the people I have met and their stories. I think a lot of our inspiration comes from our experiences of meeting other people. And it's rather fascinating.

#Felix' Blog (a collection tag)#personal thoughts #teachers #school

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smokeybrandreviews · 2 years

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Bad, Bad, Robot

The relative backlash to JJ Abrams and his Bad Robot subsidiaries has been very interesting for me to witness. Personally, i am indifferent to Abrams and his shenanigans. Due makes decent popcorn flicks but i can’t say that he is innovative or anything better than a average filmmaker. He is a solid idea man and executes them much better than, say. Michael Bay, but Alex Garland he is not. Admittedly, i can’t say I'm a fan of Jjabrams. He’s made more things i don’t care for, than things i actually enjoy. I appreciate the cosign to get things like 10 Cloverfield Lane, Overlord, and MI: Fallout but these aren’t HIS films. They’re just films his company has produced. No, the sh*t Jjabrams has made, himself, is mediocre at best. With the exception of Fringe, Mission Impossible III, and The Force Awakens, Abrams is a miss for me. Everything he makes follows this rather strict formula he calls “The Mystery Box” and i kind of hate it. This actually works very well in TV, whee Abrams would have stayed, but in cinema? Not so much.

The Mystery Box method is how Abrams develops a good mystery story. There’s an entire analogy he uses to explain this during a Ted Talk or something, you can find it on the Youtubes, but the gist of the explanation is as follows: You drop people into the middle of a mystery-in-progress that leaves them wanting to know answers in both directions. Now, my problem isn’t inherently with the Mystery Box method of storytelling. Other creators use it to wild success. Arrival is a mystery box film and we, as the audience, don’t even f*cking know it until the climax. Denis Villeneuve successfully executed exactly what Abrams tries to do with all of his films, and often fails. Christopher Nolan also Mystery Box’s the f*ck out of his films, Tenet being the most recent example. Abrams has had a ton of success with this technique on television (Alias, Lost, and Fringe being some of the most popular sows in television history) but he consistently fails at this sh*t in theaters. I can pick any number of flops to prove my point: Star Trek: Into Darkness, Super 8, f*cking Rise of Skywalker, but I'll focus on what i think, encapsulates the entirety of my beef with Abram’s form of production: The Force Awakens.

Full transparency, i actually really enjoy TFA. Of the Disney Star Wars films, it’s probably my second favorite, after Rogue One. That said, it’s just a rehash of A New Hope. But worse. Because of the Mystery Box. Said mystery, who the f*ck is Rey, was going to be the driving enigma which drove the emotional conflict of the sequel trilogy, culminating in the eventual reveal with the third film. We eventually got that with Rey being the granddaughter of Sheev f*cking Palpatine, to everyone’s goddamn disappointment. But that journey was supposed to have a very different end. In the outline JJ wrote, the one that Kennedy and Johnson absolutely defecated upon with The Last Jedi, Abrams pegged Rey as a proper Skywalker. I think this was carried over into one of the Trevorrow drafts for Duel of Fates, too. Another draft had Rey being a legitimate nobody, someone who was just strong in the Force. Either of these options would have been better than making Rey a f*cking Palpatine but that’s what you get when you Mystery Box Star Wars.

If you look back t every other film in this franchise, there is no mystery to be had. The strength of Star Wars was never the narrative or the plot, it was with the characters and the world. There is a reason Disney dropped billions for this franchise and it wasn’t because of the space western aesthetic. It’s because Darth Vader is f*cking iconic. It’s because everyone in the world knows the Millennium Falcon. There is no great mystery in Star Wars because that sh*t was unnecessary. It’s a story about Space Wizards, following the Hero’s Journey, and cyborgs to boot. I’m not saying the Mystery Box couldn’t work with this franchise but that utilizing this is a the fulcrum of a trilogy, neuters the thing which makes Star Wars special, which makes is profitable. The choice to Mystery Box Star Wars, put the sequel franchise on it’s back heel before it even got a chance to race. And that’s just the plot issues i have. The more egregious disrespect come with the rights issues.

Bad Robot cannibalizes proven franchises to milk these f*ckers for everything they can. As i understand it, Abrams and his companies refuse to sign production contracts without a stake in “original characters.” Why is this an issue? Because the characters aren’t original. Wonder why C-3P0 had inexplicably had a red arm in the sequel trilogy? Because red-armed 3P0 is a Bad Robot “Original character.” Take a radar dish off the Millennium Falcon and all of a sudden it’s Bad Robot’s Millennium Falcon. Wonder why Jean-Luc Picard is an Android in his own show? Because now that’s a Secret Hideout “Original Character”. Alex Kurtzman is actually the founder of Secret Hideout but he is a pretty consistent collaborator of Abrams and basically cribbed the entire business model from Bad Robot so this sh*ti s also Abrams’ fault. More recently, JJ penned a deal with Warner Bros. to develop a bunch of sh*tty properties with different enough characters that were owned by Bad Robot, which f*cked up a ton of other DC productions in the works.

This development deal is why John Constantine couldn’t be used in Sandman and there hasn’t been a Henry Cavill Superman sighting in years. Bad Robot was developing a Constantine series with a black Constantine to secure them rights, and a Superman flick starring a black Clark Kent, for exactly the same reason. This that sh*t that make my booty itch. Never mind that Bad Robot was holding hostage IPs that could have been stupid special, the fact that his Constantine was being developed all but killed a sequel to Keanu’s take on the character, but dude is basically racial pandering making both characters black. Now, I'm not one to fight a good bending. Race, gender, whatever; I think diverse representation in our media is absolutely necessary. What i don’t like is when that sh*t is a disingenuous cash-grab by some greedy, medicare, asshole filmmaker. My people are not props to be sold. We are not a “Red Arm” for marketing purposes. Making these characters black is an afterthought, not a statement, and that sh*t is disgusting.

Abrams even got his kid on the family grift! Spider-Man: Bloodline was a limited series written by Henry Abrams (probably ghost written by his dad) and starred Peter’s son, Ben Parker II. Ben is the Bad Robot Spider-Man, Peter relegated to a cripple, drunken, deadbeat, father. I’ve written about this “story” and, suffice it to say, i was disgusted by it. This was before i understood how Bad Robot works, but just reading what was on the page left a terrible taste in my mouth. After i understood the grift, i understand why this narrative left my mouth full of ash. They Mystery Box’d Spider-Man and it ended up being the worst Spidey story i had read in years. This was another failure of the Mystery Box but another boon for the properties Bad Robot “owned.” This thing has its own universe so, according to Marvel lore, it’s canon. The goddamn Inheritors can come to this universe, which makes Ben Parker a legitimate Spider-Man. I cannot express to you how frustrating that is to me. Bad Robot doesn’t deserve Spider-Man. They didn’t deserve Sarah Pichelli’s god tier art. They don’t deserve anything. And it looks like Hollywood is starting to feel the same way. With the merger of Discovery and Warner, Zazlov has been cleaning house. He’s canceled so many f*cking projects, it’s absurd.

While i feel like dude is taking a hatchet to sh*t that deserves a scalpel, one of the things he has done is announce a sequel to Keanu’s Constantine. That means he’s told JJ and Bad Robot to f*ck off. Not only is JJ’s crass attempt to monopolize Constantine dead, but o is his Superman film as Henry Cavill is strongly hinted to appear in the soon-to-be-released Black Adam. This is having a ripple effect across Hollywood as Zazlov’s inaugural rebuttal of Abram’s entire business structure, has emboldened other studios to follow suit. Hell, even Kurtzman’s Secret Hideout is losing their iron grip on whatever the f*ck Paramount is doing with Star Trek because of this shift in perspective on Abrams. Personally, i think this movement is best for everyone. It forces Abrams to reassess his worth and, hopefully, evolve past his crippling dependence on the Mystery Box and it give studios more options to capitalize on their IPs, hopefully profiting enough to salvage long standing fan favorites like Star Trek. I don’t think the Mystery Box is dead, not by a long shot, but i do think it’s taken a beating and that is the best outcome for everyone involved.