#ANYWAY i need to finally watch the gnome series

[the-meme-monarch]

opinion on the new hlvrai teaser thing that came out today

i’m feeling something ! it’s positive !

[silverpetrichor]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

A/N: I know I’ve been MIA but the mania surrounding Gravity Falls right now has awoken me from my slumber. I’ve had a huge crush on Ford since I got into the series during the pandemic and I just had to write this.(I've also never written smut before so please forgive me if it's cringe.) I’ve never written him before, so forgive me if he’s a little (or a lot) OOC. As always constructive criticism is welcome and please enjoy! 

Last Summer. . .

You were helping your brother cook dinner for his heavily pregnant wife and 2 kids. Laughing and joking as your younger brother arrived with his husband, wine and dessert. It was shaping up to be another ordinary evening hanging out with your family when you got the call. 

Next thing you know you’re hugging your loved ones goodbye before opening a portal to the outskirts of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Staring up at the darkness enveloping the town that you’d only heard of in passing, watching on in horror before assisting the others in reinforcing the natural barriers around the town to keep it from spreading…  

“—Y/n! Earth to Y/n! Are you okay?” Your coworker asked as you looked up from where you had zoned out while shelving the new books.  

“Yeah? I um, I’m fine really. Just lost in thought for a second.” you respond. 

“Oh, okay. Well, I was just trying to tell you that it’s lunch time,” Tracy said, smiling up at you. 

You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing “Geez, already?” you looked at your watch, and low and behold it was noon already.  

You cast one more glance to the book still in your hand, a post apocalyptic romance who’s cover had evoked memories of the centralized apocalypse that had taken place last summer in the seemingly innocuous town. You recall arguing with the council about actually getting involved and helping the town instead of just doing damage control. You didn’t like the stances they often took, and were preparing to go in despite their decision when all of a sudden the oppressive feeling of Bill’s presence vanished and with it your need to be there, standing sentry. 

Or, so you thought. Now, you have moved from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the quiet and peculiar little town of Gravity Falls. All because you dared to go against the council and nearly disobeyed them, you were now stuck as a librarian here indefinitely. Merely monitoring the situation and living in a cottage not too far from the Mystery Shack, hidden by magic and finally inhabited again after decades of going unused after the last council assigned witch moved.

You shook your head as if shaking off your thoughts, shelving the book in your hand and heading to the breakroom in the back where your homemade lunch sat in the fridge. 

You ate your lunch with Tracy in relative silence letting her do most of the talking. She was a sweet woman who was a few years older than you, in her early forties married with three rambunctious kids. She was also very talkative, which you didn’t mind despite being more introverted yourself. 

You never liked the quiet anyway, ironically enough even though you had moved out to a cottage in the woods, you always had music or something playing. You’d even gotten a fluffy pet cat a week before who moved out here who you dubbed Lady Arson the III. 

You’d actually grown fond of this little town despite being a city girl, this town had its own unique charm. Even though you had to chase some gnomes out and renew the old wards on the old cottage. (Thank the stars you had a magical ingredients supplier for the unicorn hair you needed. Unicorns are such stuck up assholes and if you never had to interact with one again it’d be too soon) You had redecorated the cottage and made it your own. You also found a nearby lake to go swimming in relative peace during the spring and summer.  

You talked for a while with Tracy as you found yourself having a bit of fun. While you missed the city there were plenty of things and people that made it worth it. Like your crush on your friend Ford Pines. . . 

He came to the library every other day or so in the afternoon sitting in the back alcove reading and writing in a journal with weathered pages. You’d actually managed to strike up a rapport with the man instead of hopelessly pining after him in silence. (Which you still did but you felt less pathetic when your hands would wander late at night when you couldn’t sleep)  

And, speaking of the devil, Ford was present with his teenage niece and nephew Mabel and Dipper. You found them in the back of the library searching the shelves for a book as you came around the corner to reshelve the last of the book on your cart. 

“Good afternoon Y/n!” Mabel excitedly stated, having noticed you first as her brother and grunkle were absorbed in searching the shelves. 

“Afternoon Pines family, what trouble have you gotten into today?” You greeted and asked, taking in their disheveled appearances as you raised a brow. 

“We were exercising a category five ghost in the woods near Fiddleford’s mansion when we encountered a hostile gremloblin!” Mable replied as her and Dipper shuddered in unison. 

You scanned them for injuries upon hearing this, before asking if they were okay. They nodded their assent before Mabel leaned in and whispered “But I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford has a concussion or something.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you release your hold on the cart you’d been pushing. You tap Ford’s shoulder and he turns around, rather quickly almost stumbling. As he does you notice the gash on his forehead covered in Hello Kitty bandaids, that are clearly Mable’s work. But despite that you still see some red on the gauze the two bandaids are holding down. 

“Hello, beaut—I mean Y/n!” clears throat, while rubbing his head with his free hand, “How are you doing today?” Ford asks awkwardly, blushing. 

“Certainly better than you, you’re bleeding! Come with me.” You say, grabbing Ford’s hand after seeing the slightly dazed and unfocused look in his eyes and the bloody gauze on his hand. 

You pull him to the breakroom, the twins following. Ford huffing and blushing even harder at you holding his hand. You sit him at the table as the twins walk over to the vending machine drawn to the candy and chips in it respectively. 

You wash your hands quickly before going to bend and look under the sink and after a minute or two of rummaging around, pull out the new first aid kit that you’d brought to replace the old barely full one. Ford’s head tilts and his eyebrows raise as he mentally thanks the infinite cosmos for pencil skirts and the fact that you seem to love to wear them. 

When you stand straight he guiltily turns his head to the side, finding interest in the fake foliage and book themed posters hanging about. You raise a brow at his odd behavior, chalking it up to his concussion and head over after smoothing out your black pencil skirt. You walk over, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as you take off your colorful blazer before rolling up your white blouse sleeves.  

You open up the first aid kit with practiced efficiency after laying out a piece of paper towel from the roll in the middle of the table. You sanitize your hands quickly with an alcohol wipe before you gently pull the Hello Kitty bandages and gauze off his forehead. Apologizing quietly as Ford winces still, you move to grab the alcohol. You end up muttering another apology as he winces whilst you dab at the slightly deep cut with a soaked cotton ball.  

Ford’s face stays flushed as he realizes how close your chest is to his face. Trying his best to not make it obvious that he’s staring at you in that way. His eyes flicker to your face, focusing on how cute you look with your face scrunched up in concentration as you gently dab.   

While Ford struggles to be covert about his feelings you seem to be fairing slightly better with a barely there flush to your face. You place butterfly bandages on his forehead after dropping the alcohol soaked cotton ball onto the paper towel. 

You then gently grab his hand before unraveling the gauze, and dabbing at the cut with another alcohol soaked cotton ball. 

Mabel looks over, noticing the look in each other's eyes and Ford’s blushing face. A smirk falling over her face as she realizes what is happening, nodding to herself.

“Matchmaking time!” she whispers under breath before choking on a gummy kola. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he slaps her back, the gummy kola flying out her mouth. Of which, she promptly picks up off the floor and eats much to Dipper's disgust. 

“So…Y/n huh? Do you. . .like her?” Mabel asks Ford as they leave the library, raising her eyebrows and smirking. 

Ford chuckles nervously, blushing furiously “What? I, I uh. . I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He says, eyes shifting about nervously. 

“ Oh my gosh! Yes you do!! You love her! Love, love, love her!!” Mabel yelled, jumping up and down around him as the trio walked back to the Mystery Shack.   

“And I thought I sucked at hiding my feelings.” Dipper nudged Ford, laughing. 

Ford sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he nodded in defeat before telling Mabel to quiet herself despite no one being near. 

“Yes, I am very fond of Y/n. I find her to be endearing and enchanting in everything she does,” Ford muttered as he nervously laughed. 

“Well then Grunkle Ford, you should ask her out!! All the other blind dates I've tried to set her up on went nowhere!!” Mabel said as she skipped backwards in front of him and Dipper.  

“I don't know, I mean, aren't I too old for her? And I haven't really had any sort of  relationship in a while.” Ford muttered as the Mystery Shack came into view.  

“Trust me, Grunkle Ford! You got this! She's into nerd stuff like DD&MD! She's a librarian and she’s a historian!! And she likes listening to you rant about your research! Plus she's beautiful! It doesn't get any better than her!!” Mabel yelled as they sat on the couch outside the shack. 

“Yeah, in fact I know just what I need to do!!” Ford declared as he grabbed a graph journal full of blueprints for inventions out of one of his trenchcoat inner pockets.  

****** 

“This was a terrible idea,” Ford whispered as he hid from Flirt B0t 3000.  

“Wow, really who would've thought a robot built for romance would've been a terrible idea? Let's see, uh everyone!” Dipper harshly whispered back. 

“This is Giffany all over again,” Mabel sighs as she hands Ford her compact so he can check around the corner for Flirt B0t 3000. 

As he did so, the robot's half melted face snapped in their direction, its intact eye rolling to look at him through the mirror. 

“When I say run, you run as far and fast as your legs can take you and don’t look back,” Ford harshly whispers, tightening his grip on his gun. 

“But Grunkle Ford!! We can help!” Dipper responds as he clutches a crossbow in his hand. After Weirdmageddon, he’d asked Wendy to teach him how to use one. 

Before Ford could argue further, Stan came around the corner baseball bat in hand. “Take this you stupid robot!!” He screamed swinging his baseball bat, just as Flirt B0t 3000’s head turned to face him. 

It’s head flies clear off, Dipper shooting it with his crossbow as it flies in front of him. Stan beat the headless body repeatedly until it stopped twitching and was nothing but a pile of mangled metal and wires. 

“Grunkle Stan!! How’d you know we needed help?” Mabel asked as she ran up to him, hugging him. 

Stan let out a small “oof” upon impact before explaining “Well, when Ford mentioned making a robot to practice asking out Y/n with and then none of you picked up the phone when I called, I figured it went horribly wrong. And would you look at that, I was right!” Stan kicked the robot's remains once more.   

“Thank you Grunkle Stan!! But did you see that shot!?” Dipper asked, laughing. 

“Sure did kid! Wendy's one hel-heck of a teacher ain't she?” He asked, giving Dipper a noogie. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed, grunting as he tried to get out of his head lock.

Stan released him before walking over to Ford and popping him upside the head. 

“What was that for Stanley?” Ford cried out rubbing the back of his head. 

“You know for someone so smart you sure can be a real dumbass sometimes. I may not be the best at romance or reading signals but even I can tell that you and her like each other. So for God's sake just ask her out already!” Stan harshly whispered to Ford as he gave him a hug. 

“Yeah, you're right. I mean the worst she can say is no right? Oh God what if she says no? I don't think I can do this!” Ford panicked, pacing. 

“Look Poindexter! You got this, you're the total package, even with those sideburns! Just take a deep breath and go ask her out before you lose your nerve,” Stan said, nudging Ford.

Ford ran out of his laboratory in the basement and headed for the library. 

“Ten bucks says he chickens out,” Stan says, waving at Ford's retreating figure. 

The young twins sigh in unison, shaking their heads at Stan's antics. 

******

Since Ford had awkwardly asked you out that first time a little over a month ago, you’d been spending almost all of your time together. Flowers from Ford littered your cottage and desk at work, and Ford would often have smudges of your dark red lipstick on his face. Even Lady Arson the III approved of him, and she never seemed to like any of your dates. You were both falling hard and fast for one another. 

But you still hadn’t told him about the whole you being a witch thing. Afraid of losing him, even if he was a lover of the supernatural you didn’t know if he still would, once you tell him the truth. You haven’t felt this way about someone since college. But every time you thought about telling him, you chickened out. 

Tonight though, you were going to have a picnic on the hill near your cottage and Ford was going to bring a telescope so you could stargaze. After mentioning to him how you loved astronomy but only ever got to see the stars in textbooks and online since you grew up in New York.  

You hoped nothing paranormal would interrupt your date, seeing as you were planning on finally telling him about your powers maybe. But of course, you just had to say it out loud. 

And well, now here you are in your cute floral sundress and cardigan fighting a very hostile spirit after it had attacked you and Ford while you were skipping stones at the nearby lake. Ford almost cracked his head on the rocks when he stumbled back in shock, at hearing the haunting childlike laughter reaching into his trench coat for holy water.  The category four spirit took this as an opportunity to attack, its cute face morphing into that of horror as it rushed towards the two of you.   

But then much to his surprise, you shoved him behind you before raising your hands and suddenly it slammed against a forcefield you had seemingly created if your glowing hands were any indication. Then a blast of blue light emanated from your open raised palms and the spirit froze before evaporating into thin air.

You sighed in relief before lowering your hands and wiping your brow. You then turned and began kissing Ford's face, pecking all about after you checked him over for injuries.You finally pull away when you feel satisfied with Ford’s blushing disposition. 

“Thank the stars you're okay! I can't believe we stumbled upon a hostile spirit all the way out here. My wards and presence usually keep stuff like this from happening,” you said sighing deeply. 

Ford stuttered his brain attempting to reboot after seeing you use your powers and you kissing his face so much,”Your wards, as in magic? Magic that I just saw you use. Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned as she paced in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I—” you cut yourself off sighing deeply. “My being a witch isn’t exactly an ice breaker that I bring up on dates. You know how I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? It ended when she found out I was a witch and since then I just have gotten used to hiding that side of myself from anyone that didn’t already know. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just didn’t want to scare you off because I’m falling for you and I think I might actually even be in love with yo—” Ford cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you passionately. 

You stutter, before humming into the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands as one of his hands makes its way to your waist.  You have matching goofy smiles as you pull away for breath resting your foreheads against one another. 

“You could never scare me off because in case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, darling.” he whispered softly to you, staring into your eyes as you bit your lip bashfully. 

You could feel the heat flushing your face as you felt him pull you closer. In the moonlight, you could see that he was blushing fiercely. You kiss him deeply, opening a portal behind you as you pull him backwards. 

You trip and fall right onto your bed at the cottage, much to Ford’s shock as he pulls away from you. He looks around baffled. 

“Fascinating! You can create portals? I knew that witches existed but I didn't know you could do that!! What else can you do?” Ford asked excitedly as he began to sit up reaching for his journal.  

You followed, grabbing his trench coat lapels, kissing him and flipping him to his back. Ford’s hands went slack, his focus recentered on you as you pulled away with a self satisfied smirk.   

“We can have a Q & A later, right now I’m more interested in other things,” Y/n breathed out before grinding on Ford's lap, feeling his hardness grow underneath you. 

Ford blinked, swallowing as he let out a whine at your continued movement. You kissed his lips again before muttering a soft “Off,” lifting the hem of his turtleneck. He eagerly obliged–almost knocking you in the face if not for your quick reflexes–practically ripping off his trench coat and turtleneck and flinging them across the room. You pulled your cardigan off as you admired his slightly pudgy and hairy physique before running your hands up his hairy yet muscular arms.  

He moaned as you ground down on him again, gripping the back of his neck as you clung to him. You giggled into his mouth, kissing him before standing to remove your sundress and flats. Ford followed suit, kicking off his combat boots and damn near ripping his pants and underwear as he pulled them off. Almost tumbling to the ground as he did so, causing you to both giggle. Until he looked up at you, breath catching at the sight of you still in your matching black lace bra and panty set.

He surges forward, kissing you like a man possessed and kneading your ass. You moan into his mouth, as you feel your panties dampen with your arousal. You feel his hard cock standing at attention, smearing precum onto your stomach. 

Before you know it, Ford has you lying on the bed kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs. He lingers at your chest, sucking at your nipples through the lace before removing the barrier entirely. You shudder at the attention he gives your nipples, sucking one and rolling the other in his hand. 

You whine as he releases his grip on your chest and his mouth moves south. He teasingly kisses your aching clit and nips at your thighs before slowly pulling down your underwear. 

You buck your hips slightly at the feeling of his breath on your now exposed cunt. 

“Gorgeous,” you hear him whisper before diving in and eating you out like you were his last meal.  

You mewl as he laps at your folds before latching onto your clit and sucking. You buck your hips and whimper as you attempt to shut your legs. Ford pins your right thigh with one hand before moving to open you up with his other. 

You gasp and grasp at his hair roughly when you feel his index finger at your entrance before slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly, whining as he thrusts his finger in and out before adding another. Your eyes slam shut as your back arches at the feeling. 

He scissors his fingers briefly before he makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You begin to shake, your heels digging into his back from where your legs have been perched over Ford's shoulders. 

You whimper out a soft “oh fuck,” the only warning Ford receives before you're cumming all over his face. Whining and moaning as he fingers you and sucks at your clit through your high, moaning into your cunt. Which triggers another harsher orgasm as you sob out, pushing Ford's face away. 

You look down at him between your thighs, his face flushed and glasses askew as he kisses your thighs. As if to apologize for the accidental overstimulation, your chest heaving and thighs twitching still as you smooth out his messy hair. 

You sit up and pull Ford's mouth to yours by the nape of his neck. Kissing and licking into his mouth roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth cupping your face gently. 

You both pull away to breathe, foreheads pressed together. “Are you sure you're up for more?” Ford questions against your lips. 

You smirk as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking its ruddy head. “Oh, I'm just getting started baby boy” you whisper in his ear as he whimpers in yours. 

You flip your positions again, spreading your thighs over his as you position yourself over his cock. Grasping his cock and guiding it towards your entrance, your other hand gripping the sheets by Ford's head. You moan in unison as you sink down his thick cock, gasping when you're fully seated. 

Ford whines as you begin to ride him, slowly at first before gaining a rough rhythm. You pin his hands above his head as he gasps at the sudden move.  Moaning loudly as you nip and lick at his neck, his eyes rolling back. 

You giggle sinfully in his ear, before moaning as he flips you onto your back. Ford grips your hips “My turn,” he growls out before beginning a punishing rhythm that has you crying out once more, tears streaming down your face. 

Your hands grip the sheets before clawing at Ford's back, causing him to moan, and move a hand to grip at the bedspread. 

“Fuck!! I'm close, are you there yet darling?” Ford pants out. 

It takes you a minute to speak coherently, gasping out “Inside, cum inside me! I need it, please” you manage to babble out through your tears.  

“Shit,” Ford hisses, moving to rub at your clit in rough circles. 

You whine and cry out Ford’s name as you writhe, your grip on Ford adjusts as you pull him in for a rough kiss. 

You both moan into the kiss as your walls flutter around his twitching cock. He groans at the feeling, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. You pant into each other's mouths as he breathes out “Cum for me, darling.” 

You let out a silent scream as you cum for a third time, Ford groans as he feels your wetness drench yours and his thighs as you squirt on his cock. His head drops to your neck as he bites your shoulder, shuddering as he thrusts deeply, his spend coating your walls as you pant and sigh. 

You lock your feet together around his waist as he collapses onto you. You play with his hair as the smell of sex and sweat permeates the air in the afterglow. 

You wince as you feel his softening cock slowly pull out. He groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your wet cunt. You feel your combined cum drip down to the crack of your ass as you sit up. 

“So, I'm a mess. Wanna help me clean up?” You smirk up at him, eyes glinting deviously. 

He laughs before pulling you up, “I thought you'd never ask,” you both smile into the kiss you share as you grab his hand, kissing it and leading him to your bathroom.  

You might just send the council a thank you basket for sending you to Gravity Falls after all. . . 

******

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this!

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

MUTANT MAYHEM Stuff

I finally saw this big deal of an animated movie... As always, review is on Letterboxd.

Yes, I've heard that they got a sequel lined up already. Though with the writers and actors strike going on, I don't expect work to begin on it any time soon. This means, to me, that it'll be here in 2026 at the earliest, should these dingus CEOs keep it up in being dinguses. But all I know is, I'm ready for more!

It seems like Paramount Animation, after so many years of false starts, might have something going. Yes, it may be with a recognizable superhero-action comic book-based IP that's been adapted into movies **multiple** times... And I mean MULTIPLE... You have the early 1990s live-action movies, you have the 2007 animated movie (remember that?), you have the two Michael Bay-produced movies where the turtles look like tanks, and now this movie. In addition to what seems like a gazillion TV show adaptations going all the way back to the classic late '80s Saturday morning series.

So far, the $70m-costing movie has made about $100m worldwide. It admittedly hasn't had the greatest start. It even opened below MEG 2, which goes to show where the moviegoing public's priorities are at the moment, post-Barbenheimer. But I see a leggy run for this, similar to that of the first SPIDER-VERSE, which only opened with a fairly meager $35m. I guess most of the public made the 2014 TMNT movie open so big because live-action just a lot of audiences them a way in to such an outlandish concept. I remember some "Why is there a cartoon Spider-Man now?" reactions to SPIDER-VERSE Uno when that was coming out in 2018, especially after three big live-action iterations that came out back-to-back. It makes me curious to see how TRANSFORMERS: ONE opens next summer, if it does come out next summer that is.

Paramount Animation, if that's even a thing anymore (for that logo or name does not show up in the opening logo rollout), has a weird future ahead that seems very IP-reliant. They recently demoted UNDER THE BOARDWALK to a Paramount+ release, and it seems like book adaptation THE TIGER'S APPRENTICE is still on for a January release despite no trailers or images or any kind of promo being out there at the moment. Or for a while even, before the strike. Following that are things that have been done as big movies before: Transformers, The Smurfs, PAW Patrol, etc. We have plenty of 2D AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER movies on the horizon, too, which is great! But at the same time, coupled with Paramount CEO Tim Robbins' recent comments on making original animation for theaters, this studio's slate is just... Franchises. Now, if these future entries do what MUTANT MAYHEM did, that's cool and all... But at the same time, new stories are always welcome, because when some franchises run out of juice... You'll need something new to start another one? I don't get Hollywood.

But yeah, this is looking to be Paramount Animation's first theatrical score in a while, after a slew of movies like SHERLOCK GNOMES and WONDER PARK and PAWS OF FURY: THE LEGEND OF HANK.

The other day, I watched sections of RANGO... One of my all-time favorites! Gore Verbinski's film through and through, weird as fuck throughout, it was released by Paramount all the way back in 2011, and despite not making back its budget theatrically, Paramount leadership were so impressed with the movie - and also upset that DreamWorks wasn't going to renew their distribution deal with them - that they founded Paramount Animation in 2012. Like, RANGO's the reason that all took off! And yet, I don't see Paramount greenlighting something like that today. Or most studios, for that matter. How did it even get greenlit in the mid-2000s is my question?? I feel like we're lucky to even have it. And that the thing managed to make over $100m domestically alone.

Anyways, I see MUTANT MAYHEM doing quite well for itself. They already have sequels and TV show lined up, so we shall what that entails. In the mean time, it's cool that we even got such a dynamic and neat new take on this property, in animated movie form. Another win for mainstream feature animation. And for interesting big budget studio cinema in general, really. Much like SPIDER-VERSE, BARBIE, GUARDIANS VOL. 3, and a few others, it shows that filmmaker-driven unique takes on classic properties are much more desirable than workmanlike network TV-lookin' franchise movies.

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Brother Part 5 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

George Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 5 of my 'Best Friend's brother' series, Please Read Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4 if you haven't already.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of food and eating.

Holding onto the photo album you opened it, expecting to see pictures but you were met with nothing but empty spaces.

"I've bought this for us," George said softly "I want us to fill this with pictures, we need to make up for the three months we've been together with no photographs to show for it."

You felt your heart enlarge and flush your body with warm blood, your veins pumping it throughout your body, getting high on the feeling of this happiness - this love.

"Oh, George..."

Hearing a door opening and footsteps up above, creaking down the stairs, your face and George's dropped.

"Hide!" He mouthed, snatching the photo album from you.

Quickly rolling off the sofa and crouching on the ground with your head staring at the floor, you quickly hid behind the chair Arthur would sit in when he wasn't messing around in his tool shed. The footsteps grew closer and closer, George hid the photo album under a pillow and the blanket and tried his best to appear awaking from a deep sleep.

Yawning and stretching, he looks over to his younger brother Ron, searing through the cupboards for some snacks.

"What are you doing up?" Ron whispered, noticing George from across the room.

"Could as you the same thing, mate." George shot back lowly.

"I'm hungry," Ron replied "What's your bloody excuse?"

"Fred won't shut up snoring," George rolled his eyes, "If you're looking for leftovers you'd be smart and check the fridge."

Ron mimicked George talking but looked in the fridge anyway, pulling out some strips of cooked bacon from earlier, stuffing it in his mouth as he wiped the grease on his pajamas.

You peeked out from the chair and watched, your heart thumped so hard you could hear it in your ears, what were you thinking?! You were being too risky, sharing glances and meeting up whilst everyone was sleeping - you'd be lucky to escape tonight without being noticed.

"Well, since I'm going back up you probably should too if you're that bloody tired."

"But Fred's snoring," George reminded him "I won't get any shut-eye all night."

Ron shrugged "Punch him in the nose or wake him up and get him to turn over."

Having no excuse to object, George had to comply, he slowly got up from the sofa, making sure not to accidentally drop the photo album, as he followed Ron up the stairs, mouthing a 'sorry!' to you on the way up.

Breaking out from the shadows, you tiptoed from behind the chair and retrieved your present from George, holding it close to your heart as you sneaked back into Ginny's room, making sure not to wake her or Hermione up.

The next morning, you and George were too tired to join in the regular morning banter across the kitchen table, but you both tired and put maximum effort in any way, but you were caught off guard whilst swallowing down some toast.

"Were you alright last night Y/N?" Hermione asked, sipping some orange juice.

You knitted your eyebrows together "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione put down her glass, everyone else continued to eat and drink.

"Well," she sighed "I woke up during the night and you were there, you were gone for quite a while and I know that after Penny you..."

You choked on your toast, widening your eyes as Ron's glance quickly landed on you.

After Penny's death, you would wake up during the night and early hours of the morning and panic when Penny had not arrived from her hunt, you were so in denial about her death this became a bad habit for a little over a year.

Crying in the common room, you collapsed in front of the fire, waiting for your owl with hot tears streaming down your face, George walked in from a late-night prank and saw your head in your hands, hurrying to your side.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he held you close to him, pulling you away from the flames in case you fell forwards.

"I forgot she was gone," you sobbed "Penny, she's gone, and I keep thinking she's coming back."

"Oh, yeah!" you nodded "I haven't done that for a while, I think I must've forgotten again..." you trailed off, staring at your plate, feeling other eyes on you.

"But you've got that new low haven't you?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," you smiled "he helps but he's only an owlet."

"Where did you get him anyway? He's beautiful." Ginny smiled, staring at him and his small feathers.

Think. Think.

"My mum and dad finally decided to get me him after months of desperate letters."

That's a good enough lie.

"Well, at least it wasn't because of someone snoring." Ron butted in, "Apparently you were at it all night, Fred."

Now it was George's time to choke.

"What?" Fred pulled a sour face, glaring at Ron "I don't snore! You can bloody ask Angelina!"

"Not according to George, he was sleeping down here you were that bad." Ron shuffled more food onto his plate.

Fred stared at his twin, pissed off that he lied about him without asking or telling him first.

Why is he lying? What is going on? Why would he need to sleep downstairs?

"Sorry mate," George smiled sheepishly "Didn't want to crumble your ego."

Everyone but Fred continued to eat their breakfasts, he started to go through everything that happened earlier on that seemed out of place - how could everyone push this aside despite that is going on?

"Well?" Asked Fred, staring at his younger brother who walked out of the owlery.

Ron shook his head with an annoyed expression on his face "She's not there" he replied.

"I wish you had that map, you know, you should nick it from him when he's sleeping."

"I would" replied Fred "but he clutches to it when he sleeps."

Throughout the day, Fred gravitated closer to Ron, whispering to him, warning him about you and George - how things don't add up, how something much more is going on. Ron denied it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find out the truth, even if it meant catching you both together.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on," Fred grumbled, helping Ron and with the garden Gnomes whilst you and George helped Arthur across the field.

"Well, how are we going to catch them?" Ron grumbled, soil getting in his hair, "Do you think she was down there with him last night?"

Fred fell back, his clothes now like Ron's hair, coated in soil. Brushing it off and kicking a gnome he sighed "Well, we'll just have to wait downstairs for them tonight."

"And what if we don't catch them?"

Fred hesitated for a moment "We'll keep trying until we do, we need to make Ginny and Hermione aware too - we won't be able to know if she's left the room unless they tell us."

Stepping out of the bath and drying yourself off, wrapping a towel around you, you leave the bathroom, and bump into George who was standing there the whole time, desperate to get a moment alone with you.

"Y/N, we need to talk, quickly - now."

Your cheeks went red and started to burn, George had never seen you in little clothing before, but you knew now wasn't the time for either of you to have stars in your eyes - George sounded urgent, and he was always laid back.

Following George into his room, he quickly shut the door behind him and pushed a chair against the door, if he did any magic he could count on his mum shouting at him to come downstairs at once.

"They're onto us," George freaked, sitting on the bed putting his head in his hands.

You sighed and sat next to him, gripping your towel in place with one hand, whilst stroking his hair with the other.

"We both knew this wasn't going to be easy," you chewed your lip nervously, "but that doesn't mean we can't get through it."

"What are we going to do?" George stopped pressing his eyes against his palms and looked into your eyes, his worried-filled ones boring into you "It's obvious we can't sneak downstairs."

You stayed quiet for a moment, shifting through your thoughts and ideas, "Well, we'll just have to meet up outside the house. We both leave and come back at different times, so you leave before me, and I'm back when you're already going to sleep."

"The sun doesn't go down here until very late out, it gets cold, and I don't want you to-"

Cutting George off, you went through his drawers, pulling out an oversized, fluffy hoodie.

"Freeze to death?" you smirked, throwing it to him "I'll wear this if you fetch it."

George swallowed hard, the windows of opportunities started to close one by one, and the finish line of your relationship started to get closer and closer, only making his heart more eager and desperate to claim you as his own.

"Tonight?" he asked softly "What time?"

Planting a small peck on George's head, you walked over to his bedroom door, "wait for my owl, when he goes out to hunt, that's when."

Slipping out of George's bedroom, you hurried into Ginny's searching through your trunk to find some clean clothes.

Just as you were going into Ginny's room, Ron, Fred, Ginny, and Hermione sat downstairs coming up with a plan to dismantle your happiness - Ron felt betrayed, and at this moment, he didn't care if you hated him afterward - you fell for his older brother, something you promised you would never do.

"Since when did you know my brothers?" Ron piped up, mouth full of food.

Hermione grimaced at him, packing away her study books "Ron! Swallow your food first, don't be so foul!"

You shrugged "In the Owlery, they're really nice-"

"No, they bloody are not!"

"Ron, relax, it's not like I fancy them-"

Ron shuffled "well, everyone else does, and you better not."

You raised your hands up in defense "I won't! I promise!"

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @carisi-sonny @g0ldenwanda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx 

[nochiquinn]

legend of vox machina episode 11: Whispers at the Ziggurat OR [muffled “what’d I miss“ in the distance]

so between me watching the last episode and now, I got horrendously sick, I'm still not 100%, but I'm also still not sleeping like a normal person so here I goooo

(this may have to be done in several batches tbh)

I want a solar system pocketwatch

WAIT scanlan being the one putting all the conspiracy pieces together/being the one to investigate the book = ioun foreshadowing??

probably not, but I enjoy the parallels anyway

plus the ziggurauts were originally an ioun thing iirc

I have not yet watched the last watch party BUT I am aware that grey apparently based delilah's chanting on penecostal speaking-in-tongues, which delights me to no end

"let any who would stop us shatter against what we have built"

do not have sex on the zigguraut

"goody." y'know that feral grin travis gets sometimes as grog? yeah, that one.

bye ripley, see you at glintshore

(if we get to glintshore I Will Not Be Okay)

"if no one will cast you as a creepy demon monster voice, you can make your own at home" - matt mercer probably

all those marks on cass' neck :(

the smoke-mask and the eyes and the color inversion and sdlfjsdl

and there goes the tank

vex trying to appeal to vax's love for her, to his ego, literally just pleading with him...

thaaat's a couple ribs

UGHHHH the whole pike vs sylas sequence

I want to be very clear that all of my "ugh"s are entirely affectionate and I am merely at a complete loss for words at how GOOD EVERYTHING IS

and then skype started going out

(to the tune of "marry the mole") delilAH, silence the gnome

"will literally anyone get that" some things are for me

"snap out of it, you fuck! it's me!" "I know." sylas' charm enhancing vax's (probably relatively minor) irritation with vex into a hate plague type thing? vax fighting through it in an attempt to apologize, a la "yasha was crying"? who knows, both hurt very nicely

orthax being even harder to control after letting ripley go

cass' line delivery improves 10x when she's being unhinged and yelling at percy, it's great

the swORD BOUNCE

GET AWAY FROM MY GNOME

I really love scanlan's expression right before the heart-eyes d20s

father-daughter brother-stabbing

I love how the blinky dagger belt's been used this whole series

maybe not so much when it's being used to exsanguinate vex but still

vex relying on keyleth to help her save vax

EVERYONE relying on keyleth bc she's FUCKING AMAZING

"my face believes you"

"my turn"

YEAH YEAH FUCK YEAH

ROUND 2

"I know what you're doing, don't try and seduce me"

"if I don't know where I'm swinging, then neither will you"

REAL MEN HUG

the way this is probably the sixth time I've watched this as I still start tearing up when the drums hit

COUNTERSPELL

travis finally got his dbz moment

"that kill was MINE" orthax

I said the entire time that "I broke the world for us" was going to be how I judged delilah's performance and it still is but in a wildly different way than I thought it would

matt's was more unhinged, more desperate, more hysterical. that's what grey's scream breaking out of the Silence bubble was. this is her realizing, grief settling in.

she starts re-negotiating with vecna, demanding things of the otherworldly necro-demon she'd written both her and sylas' souls over to just to bring him back from the brink the first time.

this is when Delilah Briarwood Truly Loses It.

mass healing word! I think.

the lock being the size of scanlan's whole face

I had forgotten about the wiggly corpse walls. or maybe repressed is the better word.

new critters do not have the context that liam decided on the fly that vax is 1/4'' taller than vex so he can call her a goofy nickname

she has yet to call him "scrawny" in return, which I need desperately.

in this moment a good half the audience realized those antlers do not in fact grow out of keyleth's head

I think this is the biggest main story beat they actually changed, and it works so well with the different story they're telling here and it makes my writer brain go brrr

her little SMILE

circling back to the "broke the world for us" conversation, delilah also has lines like "this can't be all there is" to shore her up

SPINNY DEATH ORB

aaand there goes the skype

[residentsocialfailure]

Initial True Colors thoughts::

Please don’t expect this to be intelligent or organized or in any way useful for anything. Just my dumb thoughts about a game I really enjoy :))

*Actually thoughts from about ten minutes in. I got excited when it finally finished downloading and forgot I had wanted to do this

- This game is already activating all my Colorado feelings. I’ve been wanting to move back for years, and this is making me want to even more. The scenery is so pretty, and the town seems incredible. I want to live here so bad.

- I thought the guy sitting by the creek was Gabe, and spent way too long trying to figure out how to get to him, whoops.

-Birb! I love him.

- Ah, so she's telepathic. I couldn’t remember exactly what her ability was, only that it involved auras or something. This should be interesting.

-I love that he has a tab at the florist. How often are you apologising, my guy?

- I aspire to be as cool as that gnome. Look at his shirt!! He’s the best.

- This poor kid has been carrying that bag around for ages. Can we finish the tour after I set my shit down?

- One of these days I’m going to get around to doing some goat yoga. More just so I can chill with some goats than anything else. Just some goats and me, hanging out, doing some stretches. Sounds like a fun time.

- Oh, I love this kid. He’s great. But wait, the mines? That they’re about to blast to bits? Those mines? Please don’t go camping there just yet. 

- Oh my goodness, this record store is so cool. I’m not even a huge music fan and I would spend so much time here. Also...

-Steph!! My beloved. Is it to early to ask her to marry me? Ah well, we can go play d&d and make out or something, idk, whatever normal people do. 

- Oh new, character. Cool. Hi, Ryan. Sorry, my heart’s already taken, but you seem chill. Also, did not realize she was coming from Portland. 

- Oh, I just noticed the sign. Of course she larps. God, I love this town. Where can I find Haven Springs? I need to move there. yesterday.

- I would die for Valkyrie.

- Also I love moments in games, when an npc is like, ‘help me do this thing’, and then just sits back and watches while you do all the work. Thanks man.

- God, I love the music in this game, though. I’m going to have to look some songs up later. I forgot how much I loved these moments in the LiS series though, when a song plays and it just goes through a little montage. It’s so peaceful and lovely.

- Also, I love Steph just jamming out in the background. I would die for her too.

- Forbidden Songs, by Adam and Steve. Incredible.

- Okay, Valkyrie. I love you very much, but I apparently need you to move to advance this story. Where the fuck is your toy.

- This motherfucker. Kings of Leon? Seriously? Ugh, why am I related to this loser. /j

- Okay, not that I’m complaining, but how did she get my phone number? Or actually know who I am? We literally didn’t exchange two words. I pointed at a record and she referred to me as ‘some chick’. Steph, you got your own telepathy powers I should know about??

-Ahh, my first big choice... do I want to be the cool aunt or the safe aunt?? Bc in this game, he could actually die if I make the wrong choice.... ah fuck. I gotta be safe. I’ll be cool with other stuff. Like LARPing. Please don’t hate me, Ethan..

- Ooh, this guy seems cool. I’m getting some badass Ron Swanson vibes. 

-Dude. His apartment is so cool. Seriously, where can I find a town like Haven Springs, I want to live here so bad.

- Hey welcome to the town, here’s a whole-ass apartment. Also I care about you v much and want you to have a fresh start. I’m already getting feelings from this game.

- Oh, I was just about to say I hope our downstairs neighbors don’t mind noise. This guy seems off though.. didn’t he mention a Mack? If he did, I absolutely cannot remember what he said..

-Oh yeah! He was the florist’s asshole boyfriend. Cool cool cool.

-Ah, so her powers aren’t so much telepathy, as empath who takes on the others emotions; similar to Caleb from the bright sessions. Interesting.

- Oh shit. Where’s Dr. Bright’s breathing exercises when you need them.

-God, poor Alex. Poor Gabe. They were having such a nice time.

- I just want to give her a hug :(

-So we’re getting some backstory stuff. Not sure what happened with parents yet, as far as I can remember. But I guess she disappeared on her own.. ran away? Or something else. 

- Mini game!! That was fun. I only made it to the third level bc I’m bad at things. But I’ll beat your high score at some point, Gabe. >.>

-Oh, Shu-shu is so cute. Also, could probably use a bath. Maybe later 

-Old family photo, but (probably) parents are cut out. So that, plus what was probably her running away as a kid, means not the best childhood. :( I wonder if that’s why he reacted like that to her beating up Mack? I mean, obviously, that wasn’t a great moment for anyone, but he seemed freaked out in a different way than just worrying about his sis beating someone up.

-Okay, so mom probably got sick with something, maybe cancer or something similar, and the dad was an abusive prick when she died. Maybe. Except she had cut the mom out too, so clearly that’s not the whole story, if it’s even close. Maybe mom was an alcoholic?

-Aw, he got her a guitar. I wonder if it was his old one, or a new one he bought?

-Are the flashes of red indicative of her emotions? Or is that just the sunset or something? Maybe both?

-Oh man, I really wish I could give her a hug. She deserves all the love 

 Ahh, I’m realizing how long this is getting, and also it is 11:00, and I have to wake up early tomorrow for work. As much as I would like to play this all night, I probably need to be responsible..

If for some reason you’re still here, I hope you enjoyed reading my dumb, rambling thoughts. Overall, I’m really excited for this game. So far it’s been a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to find out more about these characters and the story. I feel like this game is going to be really good. I wish we got more Steph time in, but I know she’ll come in later. Anyways, I’m v tired and might have more intelligent thoughts later, but probably not.. 

[kaediisarchive]

Final thoughts on the 2021 Mortal Kombat movie.

LOTS of spoilers under the cut! Do not look at this post if you don’t want to see spoilers!

And remember, this is all just my opinion. It’s not like an actual in-depth review because I’m not a film student; this is just my perspective on what I saw as a fan of this franchise.

POSITIVE

Sub-Zero and Scorpion were great. Opening fight was great.

“Eddy Tobias” namedrop lmao

I love the snow preceding Sub-Zero’s attack. Very foreboding.

Score is AWESOME. My favorite soundtrack is probably the one that plays when Sub-Zero is attacking them in the city towards the beginning.

Sonya rigging her house with a secret bunker and trap doors is smart and fits her character.

I like that the dragon logo has an integral meaning to the story.

Loved Jax vs Sub-Zero. Not mad about the origin change of Jax’s arms. I like that he had to work through his feelings of inadequacy and failure; people don’t just immediately bounce back after something that traumatic. I also like that his arcana manifests to protect Sonya rather than in the heat of battle. It shows his emotional priorities and what separates him from people like Kano who manifest their arcana in a fit of rage.

Sonya “Throw Hands on Sight” Blade lmfao. They nailed her fighting style too and I am happy.

Kano is the best thing about this movie. No competition.

Kotal reference!

Nightwolf reference!

Shang Tsung’s soul magic being black and wispy and foreshadowing Noob Saibot.

KANO DID THE HEART RIP

CHEKOV’S GNOME I’M SCREAAAAAAMMMMIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG

I love Liu Kang in this. He is 1000000% a Wholesome Boi. I like that he’s younger and unhardened and not the fully realized champion version of his character yet. Let him grow into it so it feels earned later on. I like that he’s the underdog, and I like what they’ve set up for him in the future. Also, the casting for him was perfect and they nailed his fighting style, too.

That little “the FUCK” that the Kano actor improvised(?) in the middle of Liu Kang’s lines made me laugh more than it should have. I don’t know why that moment got to me so much but it did.

I love Kung Lao. And they nailed his fighting style, too! Great to see variation that represents the characters (though there were less shining examples, which I’ll touch on later).

LOW SWEEP! LOW SWEEP! LOW SWEEP!

Egg roll scene is best scene.

Kabal! I love his dry humor. And his voice reminds me of Duke Nukem, which I’m not mad about. It complemented his dialogue well.

Not mad about Kung Lao’s death because it was meaningful. His fatality on Nitara was sick, too.

Liu Kang taking the ribbon from Kung Lao’s hat and wearing it in his honor, giving an origin for his signature headband is FANTASTIC.

THE PIT!

FLYING BICYCLE KICKS!

LIU KANG’S DRAGON FATALITY!

SONYA’S ENERGY RINGS!

Sub-Zero was a GREAT final boss. They really built him up appropriately to make him feel like it.

Scorpion’s fatality! And his skull face!

NEUTRAL

Not sure how I feel about Sub-Zero being wholly evil and there being no involvement from Quan Chi. It’s more straight forward for sure. It makes him an interesting (and badass) character, and I’m really behind this portrayal in that he is one of the most believable characters in the movie, but I’m not sure if I like the implications for later films in how this has simplified the dynamic in the entire Shirai Ryu vs Lin Kuei plotline. Having Quan Chi be the Machiavelli was always one of my favorite MK twists. And how do we eventually end the feud now? If Bi-Han / the Lin Kuei were wholly responsible, why should Hanzo EVER make peace with Kuai Liang down the line? The complexity feels like it’s been stripped down a bit, but I do love this iteration of Sub-Zero. I truly do. That’s why this is in the neutral category and not the negative XD.

Why didn’t Jax tell Cole when he saw the mark? Why wait until his family gets attacked? Maybe he didn’t want to do it in front of his family to keep them out of it, but that ends up endangering them more. Not a gripe, just a curiosity.

Sound editing was a bit too intense at times for my taste. I have tinnitus, so...big boomy bass with very mild voices is a chore for my ears to switch between. My ears were ringing within the first twelve minutes.

Torn between “fuck you Reiko” and “Reiko deserved better”. He deserved just a little bit better, but Skarlet says “get fucked” anyway.

I don’t like the “shaky cam” used in the fight scenes. Not my cup of tea. Very hard to visually process at times.

Whatever cosmic force is picking the champions for Earthrealm is doing a shitty job at it.

Why did they change the location of the Sky Temple to a desert? Again, not a gripe, a curiosity.

“We will not see another full moon before the tournament begins” THEN WHERE IS THE TOURNAMENT BUDDY???

Not sure how I feel about the “arcana” concept. It’s an okay plot device but kinda hammy.

Kitana’s fan! But why? Why is it there? I could understand the Kotal and Nightwolf references because Sonya has been researching, but why is Kitana’s fan randomly in an Earthrealm temple? Purely cheap fanservice.

Nitara was really cool. Shame she had to die, but her death was cool and there have to be some characters that get killed off. Wish she had more screentime though; feels like another instance of fanservice just having her show up basically as a namedrop and a quick kill.

The phrase “Are you okay?” was said WAY too much in this film. So much that I actually notices how often it was said, and I usually don’t pick up on these things.

Pretty sure a camera operator fell at one point in a Sonya scene because the camera jerked around violently all of the sudden then stabilized. Whoops.

How did Sub-Zero know to take Cole’s family to the gym? WHY did he take them there?

NEGATIVE

Opening scene was awesome, but it’s emotional impact felt stunted. I feel like the order of events should have been twisted a bit. Hanzo find his wife and son should have been the big emotional climax of the scene, but it felt like a passing moment and gave him no time to mourn and no time for the impact to truly set in with me. It was an “oh no they died” moment instead of an “ OH MY GOD THEY DIED THIS IS SO FUCKED FUCK YOU SUB-ZERO” moment. I dare say that the Legacy web series did it better in spite of their lower budget and overall quality; the series of events had better pacing and gave more emotional impact because of it. I said what I fucking said don’t @ me.

Wish we got more Scorpion. I love Sanada, I love him as Scorpion, but they didn’t give us the time we needed with his character to truly get a grasp of him.

Cole Young is like white bread in a parade of decorative cakes.

Raiden, a normally passionate and protective character whose fatal flaw is that he involves himself too much in events because he cares about the people in his realm and ends up fucking things up because of it, now seems to not care in the slightest. He feels completely uninvolved save for an occasional pop in to give a nod of disapproval. I don’t like this unemotional take on one of the most emotional characters in Mortal Kombat.

Small complaint from my perspective as a martial artist but uh...”Throw your uppercut!” was a bullshit line in a bullshit scene. If you’re locked up with someone like that and the guy has his arms around your neck, you physically cannot uppercut. You cannot fit your arms between his arms because they are cinched tightly around your shoulders/neck. YOUR HEAD is between your fist + bicep and HIS HEAD. In that situation, the guy has also left his body completely unguarded, so the most logical thing to do since you CANNOT reach his head is to go for BODY BLOWS. Beat him until he lets go to protect himself, catch his floating rib with double strikes, or punch the dude in his fucking liver as hard as you can to DROP HIM. Cole is supposed to be an experienced fighter, yet he makes one of the most rookie mistakes a fighter could ever make. Normally I wouldn’t care to point out mistakes in fight choreography or whatever because it’s MK and I expect ridiculousness, but this is the WRONG kind of ridiculous. It’s just NONSENSE.

I have SO MANY issues with Mileena. I’ll make this as short as I can. I don’t like the design of her mouth. I don’t like her weird stacked voice. She shows NO personality, not in her acting or even her fighting style, just an evil minion that got angry because she almost got her ass kicked. The turned one of the principle characters of the entire franchise and a fan favorite into a GRUNT. There is NO mention of Kitana outside of literal “fan”-service. Not even a reference to one of the most important plotlines in all of Mortal Kombat. And then they KILL HER OFF!!! When they do inevitably bring in Kitana WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY GOING TO DO SINCE THEY KILLED OFF MILEENA???? I’m heated and biased and they did my girl dirty.

Speaking of doing characters dirty, poor Reptile. They turned him into an actual animal. What a waste.

Why are they so mean to Sonya if she doesn’t have a mark? She wouldn’t be as much of a “liability” if they would take the time to prepare her and teach her how to defend against fighters that have unlocked their arcana. Mind-numbingly stupid logic.

This movie relies A LOT on prerequisite knowledge to work. It’s like they want fans to fill in the blanks for them. But not everyone watching is already a fan; this isn’t an obscure release, this is a blockbuster movie released worldwide. These gaps in lore and prior knowledge don’t make sense for such a broad audience.

Cole Young literally could have just been Johnny Cage.

Where was Raiden when his temple was being assaulted?

Cole’s arcana is LITERAL PLOT ARMOR IM FUCKING DONE

No but for real that’s the most boring decision they just ripped off Jax’s MK11 heater effect and Baraka’s blades (I know they’re tonfa and they aren’t attached and I DON’T CARE). Also, now he’s suddenly good at fighting again? After being dog shit this entire movie??? And tanks Goro?????

If Raiden is an Elder God in this continuity, why is he allowed to help Earthrealm AT ALL? It seems like favoritism and bends the rules that the Elder Gods are supposedly bound by way too much. They really just shouldn’t have made him an Elder God; I honestly think they just said it to introduce the concept without a fuck given towards the actual lore of the Elder Gods.

WHY DID RAIDEN TELEPORT KANO TO SONYA’S HOUSE AFTER HE BETRAYED THEM I HAD TO REWATCH THAT SEVERAL TIMES TO MAKE SURE I JUST SAW WHAT I SAW  WHAT THE ACTUAL NONSENSICAL FUCK

Cole REALLY should not have been involved in that last fight. Especially not after Scorpion shows up. It should have been Scorpion vs Sub-Zero ONLY for the final fight. Cole tag-teaming Sub-Zero with Scorpion cheapens Scorpion’s revenge.

Camera work in the final fight was not good, especially in the first portion. At one point Cole gets thrown into a fence, but it cuts to an awkward inverse angle that makes him look like he’s bouncing off of a trampoline. This continues to happen and ruins several shots for me.

Honestly Scorpion should have just possessed Cole. Permanently. No switching back and forth. No more Cole, only Scorpion.

PREDICTIONS

Lots of dead characters come back as revenants and / or with upgrades.

Kano comes back with cyber eye.

Mileena comes back with full teeth.

Liu Kang becomes MK champion, wins tournament, and kills Shang Tsung. As it should be.

Cole Young helps Liu Kang become champion somehow idk maybe he sacrifices himself or something just please don’t make Cole the champion I will start a riot.

Next movie will start IMMEDIATELY at the tournament since there was supposedly less than a month until the tournament starts in this movie.

New characters coming in will be Kitana, Shao Kahn, Jade, Quan Chi, Kuai Liang, Noob Saibot, Ermac, and Johnny Cage.

OVERALL

This movie was good, bloody fun! It’s not an A++ Oscar-winner, but if you expected that going into it, you played yourself. It was Mortal Kombat; it was stupid, it was gory, and I had a blast watching it. Kano and Liu Kang were the best parts of the movie for me, with Scorpion and Sub-Zero tied for third. Also I popped a lot for the cheap nostalgia hits. I’m overall satisfied with what we got in spite of my complaints, and I only complain so in-depth about the things I love lmao so trust me when I say I’m not actually mad, just nitpicky. I’ve watched it twice now, and I would watch it again. It’s like a 6.8/10 for me.

[feather-dancer]

For the fake title, “Those Left Behind.”

It doesn’t make you a bad person to want to live, that’s what you keep telling yourself anyway. Supposedly thanks to an unexpected intervention if the knight was to be believed you were spared the executioner’s axe unlike others with your sentence changed to be thrown into a cell surrounded by other magical beings and left to rot instead. You don’t regret the fact you spat in his face even if it was unladylike or how you kicked him in the shin because the whispers of how you were some wild thing they needed to take care when around made every bit worth it. Without your wand you couldn’t truly tap into your magic but you wanted to make it clear you were far from defenceless even if it meant glaring from the shadows and playing up to their expectations to make yourself appear as anything but meek. Gone were the halcyon days of kind-hearted queens, these ones are ruled by a tyrant and his pet wizard, if you were an other you were a threat to his so called peace and were to be punished for your audacity of existing.

Those that followed orders were no better as far as you’re concerned, they didn’t deserve you to be nice even if it encouraged poorer treatment. Your pride refuses to bow.

Truly one of the worst parts of being stuck here is the noises and chatter in languages you can barely understand though strangely there is one troll that spoke suspiciously well and far beyond what could have been picked up from scraps or books. She introduces herself politely as Callista, always happy to chat if you’re willing or asking how you’re holding up being a mere fleshbag and all but from the way others hiss and sneer your direction as though you as little better than any of the humans on the other side of the iron you figure it was better to keep your mouth shut and bide your time instead even if the words are appreciated. Standing out was dangerous in the outside world and it seemed that even down here in the prisons of Camelot it was little better so in the fitful nights of rest you could snatch should they ever contain dreams they always involved your escape.

Time must have been passing in some form but everything felt the same with no daylight to track and the scant food you were allowed erratic when it arrived at best. It could have been days; it could have been months there was no true way to tell and it only further fuels your desire to get out of here once and for all. When it happened though none of their swelling numbers would have been able to tell change was coming, even with the power of hindsight you remain completely blind.

The goblins burst into a series of quiet chittering and try to push one another out the way for a better look at the figure who must be descending the stairs which gets everyone’s notice including yours despite they’re clearly doing their best to make as little noise as possible and your angle is too poor to see well. Another human you don’t know the name of is reaching his hand through the bars all hopeful but you know better than to tempt fate like that, it wouldn’t be the first time a cruel trick was played. Somehow though the murmurs sound different than any time before and it is enough to make you pay attention, being here taught you more patience than your mother ever managed so you choose to remain silent as footsteps cross the stone listening the increasing gasps when they come. Only now can you catch the sight of a red blaze framing an uncovered face that is almost familiar and sits at the tips of your memory, when she speaks all creatures and person alike immediately fall into a hush.

“I’m here to help and all I ask in return is that you harm not a soul during your escape. There is not much time and this might be your only chance, please use it wisely.”

What follows is the impossible sound of metal being jammed into locks and doors creakily swung open. Exalm lu! The trollish voices cry carefully making their way for the stairs while watching their feet for the skittering gnomes or getting in the way of others. Bol chula! Shout the goblins before scattering with the expectation for their brethren to follow. While some salute their saviour others grunt appreciation not willing to hang around anymore than necessary.

“Always knew you were a good one,” smiles Callista giving the woman a rough pat on the shoulder as she passes before waving your direction to make sure you won’t be missed in your humble corner while the numbers continue to thin.

“Guess this is where we’re parting ways kid, see ya on the other side!”

You lift your hand to show you heard but are unable to say anything with your throat so parched. When your own turn comes you don’t like the look of pity that flashes on the woman’s face when your long-held dream is mere moments away with the removal of bars.

“I believe this belongs to you,” she says gently taking one of your hands in her own and placing a very specific tool there and folds your fingers around with a soft smile. She ignores your confusion as you stare between it and the eyes you now realise belong to royalty.

“Run and never look back, he does not plan for any of you to survive long beyond dawn and you will have to go far further than the rest. I wish you all the luck magic can grant you.”

She’s already moving on to the last few when a word manages to croak into existence and you hope she understands before you are quickly joining the hurry snatching a hooded cloak to hide your face not wanting to risk any spells lest you accidently get trampled simply out of not being seen. Every step you take feels lighter and as you break into the open air it feels like the first time you have been able to breathe in your entire life. For one joyous moment you enjoy the cold night air before the brutal reality reminds you that you’ll never be safe here ever again.

After you flee the kingdom, it’s fringes and beyond refusing the novelty of rest when you can keep increasing the distance between there and you never once do you risk looking back, not until you’re sure even horseback would struggle to track you down and your face will be little more than a travelling curiosity in this unknown town you stumble over. With a bit of difficulty you barter your way to a bed of some kind and the means to bathe wanting to finally be rid of the grime and dirt that has plagued you so long. It is when you wring the last of the water from your hair that you are oddly reminded of how natural freedom could be where you don’t need to constantly look over your shoulder like how things became after his law tightened it’s grip and called for your death. War is coming, there’s no doubt about that now with so many who can carry tales of his cruelty to their homes, and if there’s any mercy left in this world may their noble ‘King’ choke on his victory if a blade doesn’t get him first, you think bitterly.

Secretly though you hope that she will never be punished for what she did, that maybe you could properly say thank you in person one day.

[alecmagnuslwb]

The Great Marriage License Mystery

Read on AO3

Magnus groans, back feeling like hell. He lifts himself up and immediately falls off the couch landing directly on his back onto a stack of red solo cups.

“Fuck,” he shouts out as he rolls to the side to lift himself up, a party mask on a stick digging into his side.

“Stop being so loud,” a female voice he knows well grumbles from above. Magnus finally lifts himself up into a sitting position to see Isabelle lying face down surrounded by a nest of multi colored feather boas on the couch opposite the one he’d just fallen from.

Magnus finds the inner strength to stand looking around the room. It’s his apartment, not that he remembers coming home at all, and it’s a wreck. Cups, half empty bottles of liquor and an array of party favors from the evening’s festivities cover every surface. His paintings on the walls are crooked, the strip of photobooth pictures that he and Alec had taken on their trip to Tokyo for their one-month anniversary are sitting sadly in a puddle of something. He walks over squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming in and pics up the photo strip shaking them out best he can.

He sniffs them confirming the liquid to be vodka and not something worse. He pins them back up on the corkboard where they belong smiling at the happy looks on their faces despite the fact his head feels like there’s a tiny gnome with a hatchet running around inside of it.  

Isabelle shifts on the couch lying on her back now.

“Did we die?” she asks eyes still closed.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus says picking up a pink cowboy hat from the chair nearest to him and plopping down into it heavily.

“What time is it?” she asks pulling a few of the feather boas around her like a blanket.

Magnus looks down at his watch about to answer when his bedroom door suddenly slams open. A flash of long red hair streaks across the apartment headed straight for the bathroom.

Clary shuts the door behind her and an unfortunate heaving sound follows. Izzy sits up quickly eager to get to her fiancée, a decision she clearly immediately regrets if the way she woozily lies back down is anything to go by.

The bathroom door swings open a moment later, Alec steps out looking disheveled as hell wearing a Hunter’s moon t-shirt he definitely hadn’t been wearing when the night before had started.

“I don’t recommend sleeping in a bathtub when you’re 6”4,” he says voice gravelly from misuse. He squints his eyes grabbing a pair of sunglasses laying on the table as he walks past it and slips them on. “You might want to check on your fiancée, she’s throwing up half her body in there.”

Alec sits down heavily on the couch beside his sister patting her on the shoulder. She nods, takes a deep breath and centers herself standing up slowly. This time she makes it picking her way through the trash littering the floor her 8-inch heels somehow still secured to her feet.

“Your weddings in like four hours, just a reminder!” Magnus shouts and wishes he hadn’t. Judging from the way Alec plugs his ears and Izzy flips him off no one else does either. Hangovers all around it seems, a sign of a good bachelorette party.

Magnus listens for a few moments to Isabelle softly reassuring Clary, heels clicking on the tile of the bathroom floor. He looks over at his boyfriend once again heaving himself to stand and flop down beside him on the bed of boas.

“Good morning baby,” Alec grumbles lifting his arm and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus hums reaching up and entangling his fingers with Alec’s. He shifts enough to toss his legs over Alec’s and looks down noticing a piece of white paper sticking out from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows leaning back enough to pull the paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and practically jolts up from the couch. In looping script that looks like Isabelle’s is his name and what appears to be one half of a marriage license.

“Ummm Magnus!” Isabelle yells rushing out of the bathroom and directly to them on the couch. Alec shifts seemingly having fallen back asleep. She shakes a piece of paper in his face almost identical to his half. “This was in MY pocket.”

Magnus takes it from her lining it up with his. A piece of the full sheet is still missing only the last name Lightwood on Isabelle’s section the first name missing. She falls beside him seeing the almost full document.

“There’s no way,” he says laughing nervously. There’s no way.

Isabelle is just as alert as he in now, eyes in a panic. Alec sits up taking off his sunglasses. He looks from the papers to Magnus’s eyes, his eyes just as wide as his sisters.

“I also have this,” she says holding up her left hand revealing a diamond band on her thumb. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s one of mine,” Magnus says looking down at one of his empty fingers. “Oh, shit that’s one of mine.”

Alec falls back into the couch, no longer pressed into Magnus’ side.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Isabelle says dropping her head into her hands.

Clary comes out of the bathroom, eye makeup resembling a raccoon with a huge bottle of mouth wash in her hands. Chairman Meow appears circling around her socked feet trying to trip her up, she takes it in stride and steps over him easily.  

“Just in case,” she says when she notices Alec judging the bottle. “So, I’m guessing from those repetitive oh my gods it’s not us that got married last night.”

“No,” Isabelle moans dramatically throwing herself on the ground, arms tossed over her eyes. “I married my brother’s boyfriend probably as a dumb joke or something the night before my wedding. Jace will never let me live this down.”

“We don’t know that. It just says Lightwood, it could be us!” Magnus argues looking at his boyfriend uncertainly. Alec looks a little bit like a deer in the headlights so Magnus scrambles. He’s not really sure what’s the better option: accidentally marrying your boyfriend of two months in a drunken stupor or marrying your boyfriend’s sister as a joke in a drunken stupor. At least he hopes it was a dumb joke if it’s the latter, the former well he’s not sure if he and Alec are ready to get into that no matter how quickly their relationship has progressed. “Or you know it’s fake, fake is an option.”

Clary steps over inspecting the paper.

“Paper’s too high quality for a fake,” she shrugs sitting down on the coffee table. Magnus gives her a pointed look, making it clear she’s not helping this situation.

The four of them sit there silently for a while. Alec is the first to speak up.

“Okay, what does everyone remember from last night? Let’s piece this together,” he says reasonably opening the floor to whoever wants to start.

It takes about twenty minutes but they get a vague timeline from memory and other evidence pulled from their pockets. They scour the apartment as they talk making hangover remedies while desperately searching for the missing piece of the license.

So far they’ve determined things started here, pre-gaming with cocktails and dinner then it was the Hunter’s Moon where Magnus absolutely demolished Alec in a series of pool games. That’s when Alec lost his shirt as well, a beer spilled on him by Jace who’d already had far too much to drink. Magnus had forgotten the detail, but Alec recalls it with annoyed clarity.

After the Hunter’s Moon, Jace had been sent home in a cab, Maia, Bat and the rest of their friends had come along with them to Pandemonium and that was where things got blurry. By 11:30 their friends had all called it a night, but the four of them had hit the dancefloor. Dancing then turned into competition when Izzy had challenged Magnus and Alec to a couple’s tequila shot off. Magnus assumes they won considering how Clary handles her liquor.

Then it all goes well and truly blank for them all. Clary’s phone is missing entirely, Alec’s is dead and seemingly has been since at least midnight. Izzy’s phone is just a series of back and forth drunken texts with Jace that are increasingly sarcastic and misspelled.

Magnus is the only one with a possible lead. There’s evidence of a Lyft being called that took them to the venue where Izzy and Clary are getting married in mere hours and a 15-minute call with Raphael somewhere around one in the morning.

Magnus dials his number immediately hoping for answers.

“You asked me to go through the whole ceremony,” Raphael says after five minutes of making fun of them all. Magnus’ childhood best friend never did finish the process of becoming a full-blown preacher, not finding it for him in the end, but he’s ordained for weddings and had happily offered to do the ceremony when Clary and Izzy still hadn’t found someone two weeks before.

“Why?” the four ask in frustrated unison.

“Dios, I don’t know. You were all trashed but you insisted, so to get you to leave me alone because some of us who are involved in this wedding wanted to get a good night’s rest, I went through the whole thing, start to finish,” he explains.

“Did vows get exchanged or anything?” Alec asks.

“Not really, but you did all say ‘I do’ at some point I couldn’t tell who though, I’m pretty sure you were all outside,” Raphael answers. “Which in theory I guess would mean someone got married, but not that it matters I mean ordained or not without a license it’s not legally binding.”

They all sigh.

“That’s the problem,” Magnus grumbles. They end the call after that saying goodbyes and see you soons.

“Alright,” Alec says sounding the level headed big brother and leader he always is. “Here’s the plan’ everyone needs to shower first. We’re short on time so that means couples, no funny business though. Raphael said we were outside, so that probably means we couldn’t get into the venue when we decided to go. Magnus and I can ask around while the two of you get ready since we have to be there anyways.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And what do we do if it was us that got married?” Magnus asks gesturing between him and Izzy.

They’re all silent. Clary is the first to pipe up, taking this whole situation surprisingly well. Maybe throwing up half of one’s body weight brings clarity.

“I mean only the four of us saw it, it hasn’t been officially filed, just signed and if we give Raphael permission to mock us about it for the rest of our lives he won’t say anything,” she reasons.

She grabs Izzy’s hand pulling her to the shower leaving no room for argument.

Magnus blows out a long breath leaning against the kitchen counter where they’d all gathered. Alec joins him, crossing his arms.

“Are you mad I may have accidentally married your sister?” Magnus says quietly.

Alec snorts.

“No, we were all beyond drunk last night and knowing you and Izzy it was some competitive dare that went a step too far.”

Magnus chuckles, that does sound like them.

“And what if,” he pauses a little worried. “What if it was us that accidentally got married?”

Alec turns reaching up to pull a piece of confetti from Magnus’ hair. His hand slides down brushing Magnus’ cheek.

“Then we got married,” he shrugs.

Isabelle’s phone rings breaking the moment, on today of all days he’s fairly certain she’d appreciate them picking it up. It’s the caterer and the call takes long enough that he and Alec have barely five minutes for a shared shower before calling a cab to get to the venue. They don’t get to talk about Alec’s casual shrug about them being married like it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once they’re at the venue people start filing in Maryse and Maia take charge of Isabelle while Clary is drifted away by Simon and Jace. They both lock eyes with Magnus and Alec trusting them to get answers or burn the pieces of marriage license before the days over.

Alec is the first to be fully ready so he heads around to ask the staff some questions. He eventually is led to the night security guard who simply shrugs saying he’d fallen asleep on the job. The only evidence that they were even there is in the form of Magnus’ Lyft history and a feather boa exactly like the ones in Magnus’ apartment tangled in a bush outside. Alec sends him a picture of it attached with the message, ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be finding these around New York for the rest of the year.’

Everything goes by in a rush after that. Magnus never gets the chance to bring up anything to Alec as they take their places as groomsmen.

The wedding is beautiful, Raphael does an excellent job so much so that Clary’s stepdad bursts into tears only two lines in. Clary and Izzy exchange vows that make everyone else cry and Izzy dips Clary as they kiss to everyone’s delight. They look the happiest they’ve ever been, clearly no longer thinking about the possible mistake marriage that was.

Magnus however can’t think of anything else. The sun has fallen and the cake has been cut by the time he gets a moment alone with Alec. He steps outside for some fresh air just beside the bushes where the feather boa still flaps in the wind and Alec slips out behind him. Two long arms wrap around his waist and Magnus leans back into a strong chest.

They stand there quietly, the muffled sound of music behind them.

“You know,” Magnus says eventually. “You were pretty casual about the concept of us being accidentally married this morning.”

Alec once again the picture of nonchalance just shrugs.

“I mean at first it was a lot, but once the worst of the hangover subsided I realized if it was us well, that’s not the worst thing. I love you; I have intentions to be with you for as long as you’ll have me so that works.”

Magnus shifts so that Alec is standing in front of him eyes a little glassy. Alec takes the tears to be a bad thing.

“I get it though if it’s way too soon to be thinking or saying anything like that, or,” Alec freezes as Magnus puts a finger in front of his lips.

“I feel the same way,” he smiles. “I mean it’s not ideal and like Clary said it’s not official till it’s filed, but I do feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind we’re heading that way one day.”

Alec smiles kissing the tip of Magnus’ finger where it still rests against his lips. He pulls Magnus into a hug. Magnus rests his chin on Alec’s shoulder eyes still open and that’s when he spots it. The feather boa shifts in the wind and a small white piece of paper is revealed skewered on the prickly end of the bush.

He pulls back from Alec leaping down the two small steps to pick the piece of paper from the bush.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says snatching up the sliver of paper and flipping it over. The missing piece of the license. Alec steps over, joining him.

“Is that?” he starts looking over Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus nods holding it up for Alec to read. Alec smiles, pulling the Lightwood piece he’d been holding onto from his pocket as Magnus does the same with his part.

Alexander the missing piece reads in Isabelle’s looping script.

“Guess your stuck with me now,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly.

“Technically it hasn’t been filed, so not officially,” he jokes, pulling Magnus in by the waist. “Plus it’s in three pieces I don’t think the courthouse is going to accept it.”

“Pfft, just needs a little tape,” Magnus says gathering the three pieces of paper and folding them carefully before placing them in the inner pocket of his wine-red jacket a compliment to Alec’s black one and Isabelle’s deep red dress. “Plus, Clary’s stepdad is the Mayor, we can totally get some strings pulled.”

Alec laughs shifting to drape his arms over Magnus’ shoulders.

“You mean it?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “We have to have a party bigger than this one at some point though,” he says gesturing back to the reception hall. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alec says seriously.  “So we’re gonna be Mr. and Mr. Lightwood then?”

Magnus hums tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“I was thinking Mr. and Mr. Bane actually.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec says before pulling Magnus into a kiss.

They never do piece together the night exactly. Eventually Izzy gets the ring off her thumb and it fits Alec’s ring finger perfectly they discover, Magnus in turn realizes he has an exact double of it that he starts wearing himself. Why Isabelle filled out the license or if they kissed after they said I do or even actually said it is never truly answered.

Their actual marriage will be a mystery for the rest of their lives, but Magnus does get his party an acceptable six months after Clary and Izzy’s.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Of Princess Bride Past

PART THIRTY-TWO OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Ella plays piano for the first time in a long while.

Rushing up the stairs to the apartment, Ella almost tripped more than once. The main floor of Truncheon was empty, books shut and the sign on the front door turned to Closed. Rain showered down hard, and all manner of umbrella patterns could be seen on the sidewalk outside. Her own umbrella, collapsed and dripping, sat next to the front door. She’d practically thrown it down in her hurry. Biting down on her cheek, she was nearly out of breath by the time she made it through the apartment door. Everyone was mingling in the living room, nursing beers and waiting for the last member of the group to arrive. They looked up at the sound of her huffy entrance and offered greetings.

She barely gave anyone a glance as she hung up her raincoat and began undoing her french braid on her walk to the bedroom. “Sorry, sorry. Just give me five minutes and I won’t look like a bank teller anymore.”

Seven o’clock had come and gone, and she had still been stuck in the lecture hall, while her advisor gave her notes on the presentation in art history. All in all, her advisor had been impressed. But she was not one for brevity, and Ella had taken several anxious peeks at her watch during the review. It was the last day of class before spring break, and Ella was eager for the week off. She’d been so busy with midterms, she hadn’t been able to make it to any of Leo’s recent gigs. But he was due on stage at Keeley’s between eight and eight-thirty. And there was no way she was going to the show dressed in her blazer and pencil skirt, gray and stiff. She’d worn it only because one of the oldest men on the entire faculty had been sitting in on her presentation, and Ella had heard about his penchant for professionalism.

Ella thought she heard Chris yell some crack at her outfit after her, but she had already slammed the bedroom door. She stripped out of her clothes, throwing them in the hamper with disdain. She hoped it would be some time before she would have to wear anything of the sort again. Opening up a dresser drawer, she ran her eyes over prospective outfits for the night.

Breathing a frustrated sigh, she pulled a grayish-purple babydoll dress over her head and went to sit down on the bed to tug on her fishnets. After having appraised herself in the mirror above the dresser, she decided her makeup was decent enough and touch-ups would be unnecessary. She was wearing far less than normal, anyway. She had a feeling the ancient history professor who sat in wouldn’t exactly smile upon thick eyeliner or dark lipstick. The need to change her look simply to please the man made her skin crawl, but she could see no other way out. He had once ordered a graduate student out from behind the podium because his shirt had a stain.

The next time she was in class, though, she would be back in her grungy attire. Just putting on the fishnets made her feel more comfortable than she had been all day. She reached under the bed, grabbed her Doc Martens, and laced them up faster than she previously thought was humanly possible.

She was about to go back out into the living room, prepared to return to the flooded streets at a moment’s notice. But then she passed the mirror again and, on second thought, decided she simply couldn’t stand not doing something interesting with her face. She swiped on some dark wine-colored lipstick and gave herself a tiny cateye with a trained, precise hand. Having done winged liner on and off since high school, she found practice had made her skilled enough to get it right on the first try about half the time. It was perhaps her greatest accomplishment in life.

Grabbing her secondhand leather jacket, she trudged back out into the living room. She ran her fingers through her hair a few more times, untangling the remnants of her braid and smoothing down the dark blonde waves.

“We wouldn’t have been late even if we left thirty minutes from now,” Matthew said, standing up with Mabel by his side.

“Well, on time is late, and early is on time,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chris rolled his eyes as he also rose, from his armchair, and made his way to the coat rack. “Were you the hall monitor or something in high school?”

Jess snorted a laugh, his nose still buried in a Hunter Thompson book where he sat on the couch. “Far from it.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, Mariano?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

Smirking, Jess shut his book and tossed it on the coffee table. He went to grab his black jacket, while everyone mingled by the door, ready to brave the weather on the short walk to Keeley’s. “You threatened to stab me the first time you met me.”

“With a butterknife,” Ella countered defensively.

The rest of the group snickered, exiting the apartment and filing down the stairs.

“Ah, young love,” Chris teased. His pale cheeks were rosy, his blue eyes wide with excitement. Despite how much of a pain in the ass he could be, Ella felt her heart warmed to see how proud he was of his boyfriend.

“I thought he was trying to rob the diner,” Ella continued, grabbing her umbrella again before they went out onto the grimy, damp streets.

The rain had lessened slightly, to a chilly drizzle, but was still wet against her face. Jess took the umbrella from her, then interlaced their fingers with his free hand. She glanced up at him in thanks, and he winked in response. She could feel the scar from where the knife had sliced him the night they planned for their first date.

“Quite the menace, was he?” Matthew asked over his shoulder. Mabel had her arm linked with his, following along with the conversation. They had known her for a few weeks, but Ella suspected she hadn’t quite become comfortable. She was more timid than Ella expected for an actress, but she was truly sweet. Wore her heart on her sleeve, a quality Ella also recognized in Matthew.

“Oh yeah. Dennis was his middle name,” Ella smiled nostalgically. “Think if Sid Vicious and Elvis had a baby. Whose big moves are stealing gnomes and doing close-up magic.”

Chris laughed out loud, nudging Jess in the ribs. Jess blushed, glaring at Ella.

“Aw, were you a little Criss Angel wannabe?” Chris crooned, mocking.

Jess rolled his eyes. “I was not. It seemed to charm Eleanor just fine, anyhow.”

“I was young and misguided,” she said wistfully.

“And you were tripping over your own feet at least once a week,” Jess chimed in. “Though, not much has changed on that front.”

Ella scoffed. “You worked at Walmart.”

“You bought a Train album!”

“That was one time!”

“Once is plenty!”

Staring at him for a long moment, she finally uttered a defeated sigh. “You’re right. Train sucks.”

“Sure does,” Chris chimed in with an amused grin, then shook his head at them fondly and linked up ahead with Mabel and Matthew.

“You’ve won the battle, Mariano,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “Not the war.”

“Believe me, I know,” he replied, squeezing her hand affectionately, a smirk on his face. “How’d your presentation go today?”

Ella’s face lost a bit of its mirth and she shrugged, dejected. “Okay, I think. My advisor said I was talking too fast, but otherwise I did well. We’ll see.”

“I bet they didn’t know what hit ‘em, honey. I mean, we practiced like fifty times. You had it word-for-word last night,” he said, growing more earnest. “I’m sure you were amazing.”

She averted her eyes from him. “Maybe. I felt like I was getting suffocated up there wearing those clothes, though.”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t the worst outfit,” Jess said. “It had a certain American Psycho thing going for it.”

“And that’s good?” she asked with a doubtful chuckle.

“Not good, per say, but definitely interesting,” he replied, nonchalant. “I can’t believe you can do things like that. Just get up there and speak. I would pass out on the spot.”

“Well, then I’m glad you’ve got a job where you can be all Phantom of the Opera and hide out in that tiny office all day,” she said with a grin.

Over the past few weeks, the guys had finally turned the back rooms of Truncheon, previously just storage space, into offices. Each one could barely hold a desk, but they were enough. Jess had already collected an impressive pile of books in one corner. The Hudson River sketch sat in a small frame next to his bulky, aged computer.

“Yep. Counting my blessings,” he quipped flatly as they approached the bar.

.   .   .

For once, the St. Patrick’s Day decorations hung year-round at Keeley’s were semi-appropriate, with the holiday having been only a week past. They shone, green and tacky, in the yellow light of the main room. Leo sat on a stool on the small stage, doing his final number. An array of instruments were set out around him: guitars, tambourines, a keyboard, a bass. His closing song was played on a ruan, a Chinese lute he’d bought as a teen on a trip to visit his grandparents, when he was just beginning to write his own music. Ella thought it was perhaps his versatility that made Leo such an incredible musician. As only a half-decent piano player, she couldn’t imagine learning something with strings or sticks. She had no idea how he had picked up so many different skills.

Chris, Matthew and Mabel were all floating in the middle distance somewhere between buzzed and fully drunk, nursing local beers and watching Leo with thoughtful, glazed eyes. Both Jess and Ella sipped on club soda, sat in the booth across the table from their friends. No matter how much Ella insisted she didn’t care if Jess drank, he never really did. He thought it was a pretty good idea, considering his own mother’s history with addiction. And what was the point of being drunk if Ella wasn’t going to be drunk with him? It would be no fun if he couldn’t go on the ride with her, anyway.

The crowd had been lively when they first arrived, tables packed and customers chatty. But as the evening wore on, parties left, congestion dissipated. A few lonely individuals sat solemnly at the main bar. Leo had a moderately receptive audience, though the band performing before him had a bit more notoriety and a larger fan-base. By the final number, only the five of them remained at their half-table, half-booth, looking on with pride and intrigue. Ella thought she had never seen Chris smile so big as he did at Leo’s gigs. The starry gaze was a bit saccharine, but most of the time it was tolerable, and even cute.

“He’s really good,” Mabel said softly as Leo reached the instrumental.

“Isn’t he?” Ella whispered back across the table emphatically.

Mabel nodded, her bright brown eyes sparkling. “His voice kinda reminds me of The Smiths”

Ella’s smile widened. “I love them!”

“Oh, they were basically all I listened to in high school,” Mabel said, nodding in agreement.

“Not you too,” Jess chagrined from beside Ella, his arm around her shoulders.

“What?” Mabel asked, raising one of her thick eyebrows. Ella wished she could have Mabel’s eyebrows. They seemed to be shaped perfectly, and didn’t even need to be filled in.  

“Jess thinks he’s too good for indie,” Ella said.

“No, I just never find myself in the mood to listen to some guy whine into the microphone,” Jess said, scoffing slightly.

Ella shook her head in disappointment. “It’s poetry!”

“Even worse,” Jess retorted.

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t respond as Leo began singing again. Jess’s fingers ghosted over her shoulder up and down, making pleasant goosebumps rise on her freckled skin. As Leo’s voice rolled gently over the last few words of the song, Ella closed her eyes and felt the notes vibrate in her chest. Jess looked over and found her looking calm, far away inside her mind as she listened. He pressed a kiss to her hair and a tiny smile passed over her lips, though she didn’t open her eyes until the final chord finished its reverberation through the room. The five of them erupted in cheers and applause, which sounded scant in the nearly empty place. Leo smirked at them from the stage and gave a mocking bow.

“They say the underground following is the most devoted,” he muttered into the mic, stripping off his ruan. Then, he looked up at the large clock across the room. “But since we’ve still got ten minutes left, why don’t we get secret musical prodigy Ella Stevens up here?”

Ella’s brow crinkled with confusion, and her smile faltered. “What?”

“You never told me about the piano thing! C’mon, take advantage of this keyboard,” Leo called over the mic.

She glared over at Chris, who pretended not to feel her eyes on him. “What did you tell him?”

After a moment, Chris slowly craned his neck in her direction. “Who? Me?”

“Asshole,” she hissed under her breath, narrowing her eyes.

“Hey, I was simply relaying what little interesting information exists about you,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

Ella ran her finger horizontal across her neck, a teasing threat.

“We don’t have all night, Ella,” Leo continued into the mic.

“Yeah, let’s hear it, Ella. I’m sure you’re great,” Mabel said genuinely, leaning over the table, conspiratory and cheerful. The positivity would have been annoying if Mabel were not so down-to-earth.

“Agreed,” Matthew chimed in.

Ella laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “No one wants to subject their ears to that, I promise.”

“I don’t know, Stevens. I was pretty starstruck the one time I heard you play in all six years I’ve known you,” Jess smirked, eyebrows raised.

“Judas,” she spat at him, removing his arm from her shoulder.

“If you can get up in front of two hundred people to talk about the effect of the lost generation on modern art, you can do this, Daria,” he continued, unphased by her grouchiness.

Heaving an ambivalent sigh, she listened to their persistent encouragement. Then, with one final huff of obstinacy, she stood from the table and marched up to the stage. She flipped them off behind her head as they gave hoots of satisfaction and Leo set the keyboard up at the front of the stage, with the stool and microphone.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she whispered to Leo.

He gave a nod, humoring her. “Yes, I fear you.”

“Well,” she said sardonically, sitting down and watching as he descended the stairs. “In a minute, you’ll pity me. I did not inherit my mother’s talent!”

She felt her heart expand when she saw Chris give Leo a congratulatory kiss before they settled into their seats next to each other. Then, she rolled her eyes at herself for not sticking to her ill will, and dropped her eyes to the keys. They were shiny white and black, newer but less charming than the piano at Miss Patty’s. Her fingers were poised over the keys, and she swallowed dryly, remembering. She’d couldn’t quite place when the last time she’d played had been.

Glancing up nervously, biting the inside of her cheek, she caught Jess’s eye. He threw her another wink and she let out a scoff at him. The longer she sat up there, the more her heart slowed. She straightened her back, felt herself regaining the old position. Resisting the urge to tug anxiously at her earring, she flipped for a moment through her mental catalogue. Then, she cleared her throat and let a small, wicked grin cross her lips.

“Fine. But this is your funeral, everyone,” she quipped. “This song is dedicated to Chris, who is fucking wrong about Joni Mitchell.”

A final, slight shake of her head and she launched into “Blue.” Her fingers were rusty and creaky, but the song flowed out of her as though she had just learned it. She couldn’t sing nearly as high as was necessary for an exact recreation, but she was getting at more of a tuned down interpretation. Her voice was raspy, and Jess was never surprised how much she identified with Stevie Nicks. Though recently, there had been more Amy Winehouse spinning on the turntable. And Ella knew she could never sound remotely like Amy Winehouse.

The stage light was whitish and soft, and Jess could feel his heart do a skip at the sight of her. She wasn’t the greatest musical talent, but it wasn’t pure talent which made her breathtaking to him. It was the way her eyes shut and her voice lilted with emotion. How she lit up so wholly when she played. And how fearless she had always been, putting herself out there with not a care in the world for what others thought of her. No stage fright, only perfectionism holding her back. She was only ever completely herself, perhaps what he admired most about her. His intrepid artist, with dimples and green flecks in her eyes and messy hair and a fashion sense not quite like anyone else. Warmth filled his heart and his body and his mind, and he could only watch her with a tiny smirk on his face. And he had never felt so sure of anything before.

.   .   .

The cap of the red pen was clamped between her teeth, her back against the wall, Nietzche staring overhead. Suppressing a yawn, she placed brackets around a paragraph she liked particularly well. Her first read-through of the new book had taken almost no time at all, as she devoured Jess’s prose fervently. She’d suggested some revisions, added some comments, without being asked. Jess insisted she didn’t have to do that work for him, especially not for free, but she told him she simply enjoyed it. It reminded her of the days when they wrote notes to each other in borrowed texts, those which ended up sitting in a shared pile, all mixed together, in their bedroom. And he had only smiled in response. Once again, it had shocked him how invested she could be in art. Not that he would ever call his writing ‘art,’ especially how much he despised his first novel upon rereading. But Ella asked for the second draft once he had revised, offering her critical eye, if he wanted it. He did, of course. And she was nearly done. There were noticeable improvements, and several new sections. It was coming together before her eyes, and sometimes she wanted to tear up out of pride.

Breeze seeped in through the draughty window, and she tugged the blanket up over herself a little more. Her impromptu performance at the bar, which ended with her flustered in the wake of everyone’s compliments even though she was aware she was nothing compared to Leo, had left her jittery and awake. Even after the presentation at school. Not exactly anxious, but charged with pseudo energy. She was only riding it until the crash. Jess wasn’t snoring yet, and she knew he wasn’t asleep, but dozing. Midnight had already passed into the early morning, and the rain was picking up again, pounding on the roof above them. Every so often, Ella looked precariously up at the water spot near the bedroom door.

Sighing faintly, she turned the page, more semi-stream-of-consciousness insights after a perspective shift. She had to commend him on his recent experimentation. She hadn’t expected it. Her face softened as she read the next paragraph, a new addition to the draft. It was through the eyes of the main character as he watched a woman paint a mural on a nondescript city street.

Racing, racing, racing of his heart, beating against his ribs like footsteps at the sight of the woman. Eyes from bottom to top, from battered shoes to patterned skirt and button-up shirt, protected by a dirty, threadbare apron. Strangers, he thought, strangers everywhere with separate stories to tell, unaware of his thoughts or his feelings or his words or his face. She looked like she belonged, despite her complete uniquity. He couldn’t imagine looking so established in any place, so uniform in unconformity. He wondered who she was painting it for, the ghostly figure surrounded by dead flowers and trash, a vision of the post-industrial American wasteland. Not many people were likely to see it under the bridge, which looked like where teenagers would come to smash light bulbs and kiss each other with teeth clashing together and sweat out their last bit of rebellion. He wondered who had assigned her the location, if she had chosen it herself, if she was painting only for herself.

The intensity in her eyes told him she could have been, green pools of vigor and concentration as he approached, boots rhythmic on the cracked sidewalk. A tragedy, he thought suddenly, staring at her near-finished creation, she was painting a tragedy and she knew it. She could feel it. He saw it not so much in her form as in the eyes of the ghost in the painting, hollow and desolate, with a single jewel of color in the middle. The rest of the piece was only in shades of gray, a hopelessness exacerbated by more small, foolish hope. He almost laughed under his breath, instead allowing his eyes to fall back on her as he passed around her, leaving considerable space between them. He didn’t want to interfere, break her focus, not that she looked as though she could ever be shaken by anything. Their eyes locked for only a moment, as she stepped back to regard her work. She didn’t smile, she didn’t frown, she only saw. She saw, and then she was out of sight again. And another story was behind him.

Smirking slightly as she read, she capped the pen again once she had finished. And she placed the manuscript on the bedside table neatly next to her. She switched off the last lamp and settled down into the sheets. Jess breathed deeply, stirring at her movements. She turned over on one side to face him, their noses only inches apart.

“Jess?” she asked.

“Hm?” he hummed, eyes cracking open.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m getting there,” he shrugged, though they both knew it wasn’t exactly the truth.

Ella nodded. “Well, I got to the part where he sees the woman painting the mural. And I have to say, I think I recognize the influences.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Maybe James Joyce wasn’t completely incoherent. It wasn’t serious, though. It was meant to be making fun of his adolescent emotionality, like Stephen in Portrait.”

“Ah, I think I’ve officially converted you,” she said, her smile growing wider.

“I think you’re speaking too soon,” he replied.

“Agree to disagree.” Her tone was light and sincere as she continued, though her smile shrank. “Did you really love me when you first saw me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it, Chatty Kathy?” she asked, eyebrows raised in annoyance.

Jess sighed. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to understand it,” she said, studying his face with narrowed eyes. If he knew the section she had just read, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. Besides, she had been wondering for a while. How someone who had been bitten by the world so many times could still believe something so romantic. In a way, she was envious, and in another way, she was scared for him. “Why did you tell me it was that day in the gazebo?”

He paused for a long moment, running his hand over his mouth. She could see his grandfather’s necklace peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt and glinting in the moonlight, which streamed through the window. He barely ever took it off.

“Well, first of all, I knew there was no chance you’d run away with me if you thought I was crazy enough to believe in love at first sight,” he explained slowly, trying to ignore the embarrassed squirming in his stomach. “I was trying not to scare you off. Shocking, I know, considering what a Romeo and Juliet stunt I was pulling.”

“He could’ve just waited to drink the poison,” she agreed, earning her a chuckle.

“And, at the time,” he continued, growing a bit more confident in his articulation, “I wasn’t even sure. For a long time, I couldn’t figure out when I fell in love with you. Eventually, I realized the reason was because I had been in love with you the entire time.”

She hummed, her brows furrowing inquisitively. “I just can’t imagine it.”

“Which is why the amount of poetry you read will never make sense,” he said. Then, after a moment more of gathering his thoughts: “And it’s not the same kind of love. It’s still love, but it’s not the same as what I felt after I got to know you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Breathing out a long breath, Jess searched again for the right phrases.

“I don’t know, Stevens,” he admitted, biting down on his lip for a moment. “Maybe it’s more like I knew I would love you. I saw you, and I knew I loved you before I knew why I loved you. Now, I know why.”

She nodded earnestly against her pillow, damp hair smelling of lavender. “Curiouser and curiouser, Mariano.”

“Not to the Hemingway fans among us,” he said.

“Well, Hemingway fans are the biggest romantics. It’s a universal law,” she replied, voice growing heavier with fatigue. Finally, it seemed, the rush of the night was wearing off, replaced by a tranquil ease she hadn’t expected. Spring break was long overdue.

“So I’ve heard,” he replied fondly. “I told you the first time we met, y’know.”

“What?”

“That I loved you.”

She furrowed her brows suspiciously, a smirk tugging at one corner of her lips. “I think I would’ve remembered that.”

“Well, I didn’t say it in so many words.” Jess’s eyes twinkled with teasing, and she scoffed.

“You did not.”

“Yes, I certainly did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Daria.”

Her face lost its brevity as she saw he was, in fact, serious, despite how cocky he sounded. Playing the memory over in her mind, she was hit was nostalgia and confusion. Humming Stevie Nicks, spilling salt, empty threats, cleaning tables with Jess following behind her, never losing his wiseass remarks or his sarcastic grin. Then, after a moment, it hit her. As you wish. She had hardly noticed it at the time. Only a reference, leading to their first argument over movies versus books. The words Wesley had spoken to Buttercup in The Princess Bride as a way of saying 'I love you.' She never even considered its meaning.

She let out a breathy, surprised chuckle. Meeting his eyes again, she shoved his shoulder playfully and flipped onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, noticing the water spot again. The raindrops pattered a steady beat. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow and tilting his head at her in amused askance.

“Jesus. That is so...sweet and wonderful. And fucking cheesy. Makes me sick,” she said, though she grinned through her words. She sighed and shook her head slightly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she giggled again. “I don’t know whether to murder you or marry you.”

His breath caught in his throat for a second, but he regained his composure before she opened her eyes again and smiled up at him. “Well, maybe meet me in the middle and let’s get our own apartment?”

“Really?” she asked. So much information was flying at her, she didn’t know which thread to latch onto. And, unbeknownst to Jess, she was fighting the lump in her throat. She may have been a realist, but she wasn’t heartless. And she wondered how long she would be able to hold off the tears that threatened to spill over. A deep, aching love spread throughout her. It almost made her dizzy with joy. As you wish, he had said. It played over in her head suddenly, as though she had just heard it.

“Yeah,” he said, averting his gaze hesitantly. “It doesn’t have to be right away. There’ll probably be more leases in the summer once all the students go home. But I thought...maybe we’d have room for a keyboard or something. An easel, too. And we could stop hearing Chris and Matthew argue over which place has the best burritos at three in the morning. What do you think?”

“We could get an actual shelf for all your books,” she said, holding her smile.

“Yeah. You could organize them whatever way, if you want.” Jess tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke, then leaving his hand to rest on her cheek. “Or, I could do it. There is a method to my madness, y’know.”

“Okay, I’ll definitely need a couple months to decide whether to do color coordination or alphabetical order, then,” she said.

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll take some time. But...you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do, James Dean,” she whispered softly. She placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, and brought him in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled against her, nerves calming and body relaxing with her touch.

As they broke apart, he laid back down on his side, drawing her closer to him with an arm over her waist.

“I love you, Mariano,” she said, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you back, Stevens,” he replied, thinking he may not be able to handle the pleasant butterflies erupting in his middle.

She breathed in contentedly. “And your new book is the next Great American Novel.”

“I doubt the New York Times will think so.”

“Well, I do,” she said simply. “You’re the fucking best.”

“It’s been said,” he quipped, finally shutting his own eyes. Their words had turned to murmurs, cozy and soft beneath the sound of the rain.

“But, I especially love how humble you are,” she added, yawning against the back of her hand.

“Right back at ya,” he deadpanned.

Snorting a laugh, Ella shifted so she was flush against him, warm in the cold room. And, by the time the sun rose through the breaking clouds, the rain had stopped completely.

[elsylynneverbright]

Mirror Season Part 2: Destinies Entwined

The writing prompts for this series of posts are by @velerodra-valesinger and can be found here! 

    Elsie found herself stumbling back into reality once again. She took a moment to steady herself and try to keep herself from vomiting again before looking around. She expected to see the clearing she had been standing in prior to the mirror’s appearance and perhaps her sister waiting for her. Instead, she found herself in the most foreign room she had seen in her entire life.

    Next to her was a small bed that clearly hadn’t been made in sometime and a small desk that was similarly untidy. That was where the things she recognized in the room ended. There was some sort of black viewing screen in the window sill next to the desk as well as another smaller viewing screen attached to a collection of what seemed to be buttons with lettering on them. There were paper bags filled with trash strewn around the room, all with odd symbols that Elsie did not recognize. Elsie’s ears twitched as her focus shifted from the foreign nature of the room to some sort of music that seemed to be permeating the room. She began to look around in search of whoever could be playing such a song, but there was not a soul in sight. 

    As she began to explore the room in search of wherever this gnome playing a lute must be hiding, one of the two doors suddenly burst open and Elsie was greeted with exactly the face she was afraid she would see, her own.

    This new version of herself walked into the room, dancing around with her eyes closed, seeming enjoying the elusive gnomish musician. She had a toothbrush resting in her mouth that she occasionally brushed a bit with, but was mostly engrossed in the music. She had on a crop top pink sweater and a pair of black sweatpants. The oddest thing about her though was that, unlike Elsie, she did not seem to have any sort of pointed ears. She looked like an average human, yet she still very clearly shared Elsie’s face, other than the scars yet again.

    Elsie just watched the girl dance for a while until she finally opened her eyes and the two met each other's gaze fully. In an instant, the girl removed her toothbrush and pointed it at Elsie as if it were a weapon. “Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you in my dorm room,” she asked Elsie, gargling toothpaste as she spoke.

    Elsie simply rolled her eyes as she walked over to the bed and sat down on it. “You from a different universe, blah blah blah, it's complicated.”

    The student stared at Elsie for a moment, remaining motionless. She then slowly began to inch her way to the bathroom, never taking her eyes off of Elsie. As she disappeared into the bathroom once again, Elsie could hear the sound of the student spitting out the toothpaste in her mouth and turning the faucet on. Elsie could hear a few splashes and assumed it was the sound of the student splashing a bit of water on her face.

    The student re-entered the room a few moments later and looked over to Elsie before rolling her eyes. “Shit, you’re still here.”

    “Yeah, I am. Did you think I was just going to vanish?” Elsie gave the student a puzzled look.

    “I mean, you aren’t real, so I hoped so. Just another hallucination. Which means, I’m probably not getting enough sleep again. I mean finals are coming up and all but I should probably take a bit more care of myself-”

    Elsie cut the student off as she began speaking once more. “I am real. Like I said, it’s complicated.” Elsie glanced around the room again at all the foreign objects before returning her gaze to this seemingly human version of herself. “Where the fuck even am I by the way? And where the fuck is that fucking music coming from?” Elsie stood up suddenly and resumed her search for the elusive singing gnome, making an even bigger mess in the room than there was before.

    The student looked at her oddly for a moment before quickly rushing forward and trying to stop her from destroying her room in her search. “What do you mean? It's coming from my laptop!” 

    The student grabbed Elsie's hand, tearing her attention away from her search, and the two stared at each other for a moment. They focused on each feature of their faces that was completely different. The hair, the glowy eyes, and even the scars. After a while, the student finally lets go of Elsie's hand and the two speak in unison. "What the fuck are you?"

    Eventually, the two finally took their eyes off each other and separated. Elsie walked over to the bed and sat down on top of it, looking around the room at all the foreign objects once more before letting out a sigh and laying back on the bed. “And what the fuck is a ‘lap-top’ by the way?”

    The student just pointed at the screen with the buttons on her desk before walking up to the seat next to it. She picked up the pile of clothes that was resting on it and tossed them into the middle of the room before taking their place on the seat. “So, if you are supposedly ‘real,’ what the fuck are you doing here? And can you preferably leave soon? I really need to get some sleep. If I sleep through my eight AMs again, Kana will probably kill me.”

    Elsie started to answer the students' question until she heard the familiar name. She opened her eyes wide and sat up a bit as she turned to the student.”Kana? So you know Kana in this universe?”

    “Well, no shit. She is my girlfriend.” The student gave Elsie an odd look as she leaned back in her chair. “How did you not know that if you’re me?”

    “I- well, I do know that. She is my girlfriend in my universe too. It's just… I just talked to a different version of myself where she hadn’t met Kana so I wasn’t sure if that was like a… constant.” Elsie scratched the back of her head as she leaned back on the bed again. “Also, we aren’t technically the same person. I mean we are, but different universes and shit.”

    “That makes no fucking sense.” The student just laughed and shook her head.

    “How do the ears not give that shit away? Or the fact that I am standing here instead of being inside of you?” Elsie shook her head in the same way the student had before letting out a sigh. “Whatever. How did you meet Kana?” Elsie turned slightly to look at the student. She noticed the odd look on the student’s face and let out another sigh. “Different universes! It's not the same for me, so no, I don’t already know the answer to that question.”

    “It sounds like you’re making this up as you go along.” The student rolled her eyes. “We had English 101 together my freshman year. She needed help with a paper, so I helped her out. We hung out some while working on it and she was pretty cool. After she turned in the paper and passed though I figured she’d probably not talk to me all that much, but then she invited me to some party.”

    “You party?” Elsie looked at the student weirdly. She was doing her best to try and find the differences between the two.

    “Oh fuck no.” The student laughed and shook her head. “I went to one party in high school. It was the birthday party of one of the choir members, and I showed up early because I didn’t realize that seven really meant nine. I went to the one Kana invited me to anyway though because.... I dunno, I wanted to hang out with Kana. She seemed like she could be a cool friend in this city where I don’t have any. She was so sweet at the party too. She made sure I was comfortable. I wasn’t enjoying being inside around all those dancing drunk theatre students, so we went outside and sat on the porch and just talked.”

    “That… sounds like her.” Elsie smiled at the student. “And like me, come to think of it. So was that it? You two started dating after that?”

    “Well, we kissed, but we didn’t start dating for months, because I panicked and didn’t understand my sexuality and all sorts of bullshit. We eventually agreed on just doing what felt right regardless of title.” The student smiled warmly as she thought back on it. “After that, it wasn’t long before we were a couple.”

    “We did the same thing in my universe. The no titles thing. We were both a bit nervous about it.” Elsie turned her head so that she could look up at the ceiling while she talked.

    “So, it happened the same for you?” The student tilted her head slightly at Elsie.

    “Similar. We met differently. I was practicing lute when we met. Then she told me she wanted me to hold her the way I held the lute and she ran off.” Elsie giggled as she remembered their first encounter. “The nervousness and slowness initially, that is pretty much the same.”

    The student looked Elsie over for a moment, tapping her chin for a moment. She finally spoke up after a bit of deliberation within herself. “Do your parents know?”

    Elsie nodded. “They did. Fel, apparently my mom knew long before I did. Do yours not?”

    The student shrugged lightly as she turned her gaze away from Elsie. “No… I’m scared of how they’ll react. They aren’t the most understanding when it comes to most things. How did they react for you?”

    Elsie nodded in agreement. Her mother was not known for her understanding nature. “It didn’t bother them. I mean, they were mostly just happy to see me again. Long story, before you ask.”

    The student shrugged as she slumped a bit in her chair. “That makes sense. Though maybe views on that kind of thing are different in your universe or something.” She let out a small sigh. “The only person in my family who knows right now is Vadel.”

    “Vadel?” Elsie raised her eyebrows at the student. “So, you two are close then?”

    “Oh yeah. I’m closer to her than I was my mom. I mean, it wasn’t always that way. We used to fight so much as kids, mom and Quentin would have to separate us. Now we’re best friends though.” The student smiled.

    “That's good. In my timeline we are still at the childish fighting phase, but thats probably because we didn’t grow up together.” Elsie noticed the student’s look of confusion and she just shook her head. “It's a long story.”

    Elsie then pushed herself up off the bed and walked over to the student, looking her over closely before smiling warmly at her. “You know, I guess we aren’t all that different. I mean, I was looking for what was different between us, but it's mostly just the… background surrounding us I guess.” Elsie gestured to the room around them.

    “Yeah, maybe all that shit kind of transcends universes or something.” The student grinned at Elsie as she hopped up from her desk.

    “Yeah, sometimes.” Elsie smiled as she patted the student on the shoulder. Much to Elsie’s surprise, a portal once again opened to suck her back through the multiverse. Before it could suck her through, she looked at the student and nodded. “You should tell them. What's the worst that could happen?” 

    Before the student could respond, Elsie was gone. She stood motionless for a moment, looking at the place where Elsie had once stood. She then shrugged softly as she walked over to her bed. “Maybe I will.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: My Private Happiness (baon)

Summary: Sans is having a day. Maybe a couple days, hell, a collection of them. Prequel to the actual series.

Tags:  Kustard, Pre-Spicyhoney, Angst, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mentions of Therapy, Lemon Goodness

Notes:  

Okay, so, this is set after Last Minute Gift

In terms of the series, it’s right before Pillars of Creation, Edge and Stretch’s first ’date’.

I really need to make a chronological list of the kustard stories, Sans and Red are pains in my ass, and that’s a fact. :P

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

When the doors opened up at the Ebott stop, Sans got off the bus, for once not bothering to toss a ‘don’t call bus, we’ll call you’ or ‘your park is worse than your bite’ to the driver. The bus stop was right outside the Security checkpoint, and on the other side was a Monster-driven shuttle to bring all the riders into New New Home proper.

Normally, Sans wouldn’t have bothered with it. His shortcuts were enough to take him to his own front door, further than Stretch or Red could manage even on their best days. But today he climbed on with the rest, shuffling to the back of the bus to sit, his skull leaning against the window and his sockets closed before the shuttle even pulled away.

Being on the bus at all wasn’t his normal. He could drive, but never bothered to get a car. Usually he rode in to the Embassy with Paps, more rarely with Blue or even Edge since none of them ever pried a stick out of their pelvis enough to skip a day of work. Hitching a ride was easy and he didn’t have any of Stretch’s qualms about begging favors.

Today he didn’t feel like riding with anyone.

The card Paps gave him last night was in his pocket, the sharp edges poking his femur whenever he moved.

“I won’t force you to go,” Papyrus told him. His normal earnest energy was banked, visibly straining against his uncommon seriousness, “but I do want you to consider it. You’ve been doing so much better, Sans, I am so proud of you. But. You could be really happy, if you wanted to, I know you can.”

He sank down to his knees and hugged Sans like he hadn’t since he was a babybones, too tight and too long, and after a minute, Sans returned it. The card went into his pocket without a word, stayed there when he pulled on his shorts again the next day.

Paps wasn’t wrong. He’d been going through the motions a little. Maybe. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He still wasn’t convinced that it never would.

The shuttle slowed at his road and Sans was up before the chime even rang. This time, he gave the driver a grin and a wave, ignoring the flash of confusion in their eye as no pun heralded his exit.

Too bad, they could live without his shining personality for one fucking day.

He and Paps lived at the end of the road, in a cardboard cutout-style house that was exactly the same on either side. Except their house was a sanctuary for lawn ornaments, Papyrus could never resist one. Flamingos and gnomes, fairies and bright, garish sunflowers made of scrap metal. Gyftmas was months ago now but that didn’t stop Santa from greeting anyone who came over to visit, and the collection of bird baths offered any avians accommodations as lush as the finest resort.

Every time the Edgelord walked past the cheery clown with its bright red grin stationed right next to the sidewalk his eye socket twitched, and that right there was worth the price of admission.

Sans trudged down the sidewalk towards that wonderland, but his eye lights were on his sneakers. One of the knots was coming loose as he watched, slowly unraveling until one lace trailed along like a cooked spaghetti noodle. That idle observation seemed to give permission for his mind to let Papyrus wander back into his thoughts.

Looked like he’d given up not thinking along with everything else.

Yeah, Paps was right, wasn’t he--

(wasn’t he always, really, Sans could never hide as much from him as he wished he could, Paps was so cool)

--he was getting by, sure. Doing the Embassy thing, helping out, hell, that was better than Stretch did. Then again, if he was gonna hold himself up to someone for a mental health comparison, Stretch was probably not the best candidate. Everyone knew that, ‘cept maybe Edge who was too busy trying not to let himself know how badly he wanted to get into those ugly pants to fondle some bones. That slow-motion train wreck was the main reason Sans turned Stretch down some months ago when he’d inquired about a quickie, more’s the pity.

Anyway.

Yeah, he was doing better, but even he couldn’t lie himself a fairytale and say he was happy. Fuck, what was happy, anyway?

All came down to the kid. Sans still wasn’t positive about Frisk, even if everything seemed all hunky dory, all of ‘em on the surface, seeing the sunsets and stargazing with real stars.

It all seemed like a pie and cake dream, but he knew what Stretch had gone through back in his own world. Some of Sans’s memories cracked open when they arrived, blurred snippets that matched the few scrawled notes he’d found in the basement. Yellow petals, the insanity of a high, sweet laugh.

Yeah, he’d known about the anomaly from his notebooks, but getting to remember anything of it was another level.

Not that any of ‘em really discussed it, fuck, no. The science behind it, sure, math and equations were sterile, safe. He, Red, and Stretch were bonafide experts at not talking, PhDs unite.

But being Judges gave them the unique perspective, dinnit. Looking into Stretch’s soul and seeing the guilt there, the sins that crawled up his spine about his brother and the Underswap kid…yeah. Unique perspective, that was one way to put it. Sans didn’t blame Stretch one bit for tucking the Judge away, boxing it up in the back of his skull, and refusing to see anymore. Talk about someone doing much better; when Stretch first got here, his soul was so fragile that Red tried to get Sans in on bet that he’d dust within a month. Sans hadn’t taken him up on it, but quietly thought he was right, watching with his own version of apathy that wasn’t much kinder than Red’s, waiting for him to fall down.

That he hadn’t was maybe the ‘Papyrus’ in him, because it sure as hell wasn’t the ‘Sans’, and Sans’s lack of effort to help him back then was a sin of his own waltzing along his backbone.

Stretch was doing a lot better these days, enough to argue with Edge with some pretty nasty zingers. Gossip around the Embassy was that those two finally had a date coming up, at the planetarium of all places. He hoped for all their sanity it went well.

Sanity, heh. He touched the card through his pocket, traced the edges of it. Doctor Lee, psychiatrist, specializing in Trauma and PTSD. A plain white card, the black letters glossy and embossed. He didn’t need to look at it, he remembered every word on it down to the phone number. He almost did anyway but a prickle along his senses made him pause.

Someone was following him.

Hm.

Interesting.

He could easily shortcut into the house, but where was the fun in that.

Instead, he kept trudging along, didn’t so much as change his pace. Passed a lady and her kiddo, gave ‘em a toothy smile. Walked on past Santa, the clown, the gnomes and the vampire flamingo as he headed in the house.

Before he even closed the door, hands were on him, shoving him backwards. Sans stumbled as the door swung shut, slamming hard, and his shoulders struck the smooth surface. Even without those gleaming crimson eye lights, he would’ve known those hands, sharp fingertips prickling through his t-shirt and against his ribs.

“heya sansy,” Red breathed against the side of his skull. “been missing me?”

“kinda a strange question since you were the one getting in some stalking practice.” Sans was pretty proud at how even his voice was considered the way Red was grinding their crotches together. “still need to log some hours before you can get certified?”

Hot breath couched in laughter gusted against his skull, making Sans shiver. “nah, i went pro years ago. but you gotta use a skill or you lose it, yeah?” Those sharp fingertips skimmed lower, down to wear his t-shirt was riding up to barely expose his iliac crest. “speakin’a practice, there’s a thing or three i might need some help with to keep my skill level up.”

He hadn’t been alone with Red since that time at the Gyftmas party and if this wasn’t getting his rocks off, then that memory was. Red pressed against his back, jerking him off, the cold siding of the house beneath his cheekbone and the thrilling fear of being caught.

“yeah? somethin’ you want some help with, huh.” Sans asked. He couldn’t quite achieve boredom, not with his crotch giving him away.

“yeah, been meaning to give my knees a good workout and if you help, i don’t get a crick in my neck.”

Sans exhaled shakily. Paps could be home any minute now, open the door with a jangle of keys, could catch Red blowing him right in their doormat with drool and come running down his chin. His bedroom was right upstairs, the bathroom, hell, the laundry room had a lock on the door.

All Sans said was, “you really want to go with short jokes?”

“can only work with the material you’ve got.”

Red didn’t drop to his knees so much as he slithered, pulling Sans’s shorts carelessly along for the ride. His dick got caught at the waistband and Sans winced as the fabric scraped along the head before it let loose, making his dick bob like a cork in a lake.

Wasn’t any time to bitch about it. Red swallowed him down in one gulp, the hot, velvety magic coating his mouth made Sans choke out a moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the next one, but it became a groan of disappointment as Red pulled off.

“don’t you dare, sansy,” he snarled. Those crimson eye lights burned in the darkened foyer. “you let me hear every fucking whimper.”

“yes, boss, whatever you say, boss,” Sans snarked, but sarcasm was a lost cause when Red ducked his head again, a long tongue curling around his shaft. Fuck, so slippery tight, better than a hand. The sound that crept through Sans’s teeth was closer to a yowl and he felt the vibration of a hum of amusement.

Okay, yeah, Sans wasn’t past a little vindictiveness. He grabbed Red’s skull in both hands and jerked him down, thrusting in hard to nudge at the back of Red’s formed throat. Good plan in theory, but Red only swallowed him down easily, let Sans do it again, riding his face rougher than he’d usually dare.

Dimly, Sans could hear another slick sound, a counterpoint to the obscene glick that came with every thrust that glided past Red’s dangerously sharp teeth. He was jerking himself off, his shoulder moving with every stroke, and Red was moaning, shaky and low, deep in his throat and fuck, the feeling of it made Sans quiver down to his toes.

The first splash of come landed on Red’s tongue and he wrested away from Sans’s grip before the second could fall, his hand taking the place of his mouth as he stroked Sans through it, spurts of deep blue streaking across his t-shirt.

“fuck,” Sans croaked out, both in pleasure and dismay. “that’s gonna stain, you shit.”

“guess you’ll have to make a another thrift store run,” Red said with vindictive cheer. A thread of that same blue was running down his chin and Sans wiped it away before it could drip. Red watched, eye lights narrowing as Sans licked that droplet from his finger, tasting the sharp sourness of his own magic.

“that what you wanted?” Sans asked, all false politeness and solicitude. For a long moment there was no answer, only Red staring at him with those demon eye lights.

“yeah, sure,” Red said finally, almost absently distracted. “thanks for the good time, see ya around.”

It was only when Red vanished that Sans got a good look at his own feet and saw the splashes of crimson on his sneakers.

That fucker came on his shoes and didn’t even offer to get him a towel.

Outrage was out of reach and Sans only laughed helplessly, sliding down the door until he was slumped on the floor, shorts around his ankles, his shirt soaked with his own jizz and his shoes dripping with someone else’s.

That card was digging in to his ankle and Sans pulled it out with a wince. It was wrinkled, the card stock creased, but it was still legible.

You could be really happy, if you wanted to. I know you can.

His brother would be home soon, might see him like this, might already know what was going on, Paps was so smart and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hid his disappointment in Sans behind loud indignation. What was going on? Who the fuck knew, Red’s mind was a maze and Sans was shit at puzzles.

Happy. Could be happy. Maybe.

Sans sighed and pulled out his phone.

-finis-

[birbleafs]

[fic] An Interlude Between Friends

Series: Artemis Fowl Rating: G Genre: Friendship & Humour, Post-series Character(s): Holly Short, Artemis Fowl II, Foaly Warnings: Feels, probably. Mentions of past (major) character death Summary: One cursory glance from the report scrolling across her visor screen and she’d already caught on that this was less a scouting mission and more Friendly Intervention, A.K.A. Maybe Get Whatever’s Gnawing At You Off Your Mind With A Friend. Or, in which Holly Short comes to terms with the changes in her life but remains grateful for the little constants—one being her friendship with a certain Artemis Fowl.

A/N: For indefiniteimpala, as part of the AF Yuletide Exchange 2019. Happy holidays! I had a lot of fun writing about Holly and Arty again and hope you'll enjoy this story :) This fic is set post-TLG, without taking into account the events in The Fowl Twins as I started drafting ideas before the new book was released (so no spoilers for TFT). Many thanks to Digi-bro for the last-minute beta work ♥

Fic can also be read on AO3 _______

She could hardly hold back her laughter as he recounted the incident where, out of his love for his darling mother and against his better judgement, he had offered and participated, several weeks ago, in an amateur bake-off organized by Angeline Fowl and her colleagues as part of the Trinity College fundraising event for Dublin’s homeless.

Needless to say, it had been Artemis Fowl the Second’s most excruciatingly embarrassing attempt (and subsequent failure) at making cherry soufflé. “Couldn’t you have gone with the chocolate cake instead?” Holly grinned, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “First of all, it’s not simply a chocolate cake,” Artemis said, brows creased as though offended by such blasé abasement of a world-renowned delicacy. “Sachertorte is a Viennese speciality, with an illustrious history as the centrepiece of a long-simmering feud between Hotel Sacher and Café Demel that spanned two whole centuries. And second, despite the clean simplicity of its look and flavour, it is far more tedious to bake than your classic soufflé.” Holly groaned, her grin quickly morphing into a wince. “Spare me the sordid details, Arty. Does it matter anyway? You make working the kitchens seem like an extreme sport, exploding sandwiches and all.”

This time it was Artemis’s turn to grimace, her words hearkening back to yet another old, embarrassing memory. Still, he had the grace to accept the jibe, conceding defeat. “Touché.” They sat, side by side, in the shade of a towering oak overlooking the remnants of the Martello tower and where the old Berserker Gate once stood. Clusters of orange roses bobbed between blades of green, the summer breeze a gentle ripple through the meadows. Holly closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun over her skin and the scent of the fairy roses wafting all around them. As much as she loved her home and friends back in the Lower Elements, there was always a bone-achingly deep sense of yearning that she shared with all fairies for the world above. She would always miss the unbridled joy and freedom she’d bask in whenever she soared through the endless skies, taking in the view of the lands before her, watching the sun slowly inch its way back into its woodland nest of aspen and silver birches that lined the horizon while the skies rippled from shades of burnished gold and vermilion into a deep, velvet indigo canvas where the stars would flicker, one by one, a scattering of candlelight in the night. The two friends—human and fairy—had taken to spending what little time they had together like this, whenever Artemis wasn’t traipsing halfway across the globe for weeks on end as a guest speaker for various academic conferences, or whenever Holly could spare a few days or hours off, depending on her schedule and on Commander Kelp’s fluctuating moods. Or in this case, depending on a certain centaur’s propensity for sticking his nose into other people’s business. Holly frowned. Truth be told, ever since she’d finally (albeit with a little half-hearted reluctance) accepted her promotion to Wing Commander of Recon Special Ops, she had, quite surprisingly, been in a dour mood, short on patience, and even sharper with her tongue. Foaly was used to her smart comebacks, of course, and usually he enjoyed trading witty jibes with the elf. But even he had found her words to be a touch more churlish than usual. And that was saying a lot coming from the centaur, whose hide was as thick as it gets. Holly knew Foaly was concerned, as any decent friend would be, and had tried to nudge her into talking about whatever it was bothering her, to no avail. What she didn’t realize was how far he’d been willing to go to get her to talk—if not to him, then at least to someone, even if that someone was a young Irishman waiting leagues above Haven. “‘Sightings of the extra-terrestrial inhuman kind’? I can’t believe you of all people would pull a stunt like this behind Trouble’s back,” Holly had muttered when she arrived at E1, easing her pod into the docking station. One cursory glance from the report scrolling across her visor screen and she’d already caught on that this was less a scouting mission and more Friendly Intervention, A.K.A. Maybe Get Whatever’s Gnawing At You Off Your Mind With A Friend. “I didn’t go behind the Commander’s back,” Foaly’s protest crackled over her comm speakers. “He agreed that you needed a time-out. But with your promotion to Wing Commander, and as a friend, he didn’t want to impose a forced leave upon you. I just convinced him that a tiny bluff was probably easier and way more efficient.” Holly only snorted, a flare of irritation rising from her gut. She held her tongue, however, not trusting herself from vocalizing a scathing remark. As if he had sensed her indignation through the static, Foaly gave an apologetic cough and said, “Listen Holly, I’m worried about you, all right? This probably isn’t the best way and I’m sorry for the bluff. But whatever’s been bothering you... You can’t keep it bottled up like this. Besides, it’s been a while since you two met. So, try to make the most of it, yeah?” The centaur gave a short, breathy chuckle, to lighten the mood. “Even newly minted Commanders need to gambol about in strawberry fields sometimes. I heard that in a Mud Man song once—or maybe it was by that gnome and dwarf act, Dung Beetles? Huh, I’m always mixing up the two.” And so here she was, sitting beside Artemis Fowl, ex-criminal virtuoso and now friend of the People, listening and laughing together with the young man as he recounted stories of his latest misadventures of the non-magical kind and with hardly any actual thievery involved. Holly hated to admit it, but even a few moments spent with Artemis like this, away from the cacophony of city life in Haven, from the growing weight of all these new responsibilities, expectations—fears, uncertainties, disappointments —it was strangely comforting. She found some solace in his company and was grateful for it, but... She sighed, hunching forward. Despite her best attempts, she couldn’t stave off her earlier sullen mood from creeping through the brief respite. The sudden shift of moods between them hardly went unnoticed by Artemis, of course. She was all too familiar with how attuned he was to the slight changes in her body language. “Something on your mind, Commander?” Artemis ventured, his voice still light with teasing. Holly flinched visibly at his use of her newly conferred title as though he’d thrown a stifling cloak over her. An uncomfortable knot twisted in her gut. “This feels wrong,” she said abruptly, feeling the pinpricks of unshed tears sting the corners of her eyes. Artemis turned towards her, a flicker of puzzlement and concern crossing his features. Still, there was something in his gaze that suggested he was already making a calculated guess about the nature of her sudden distress. But he only leaned closer, nudging his shoulder gently against hers, even as Holly kept her arms wrapped around her chest as if to shield herself from opening up. From giving voice to the dull ache of grief and loss—fears, expectations, disappointments—she had carefully kept tucked away in the background amidst all the congratulatory wishes she’d received when her promotion had been officially announced internally to the rest of LEP. “What feels wrong?” Artemis asked. He paused, uncertain at first if she’d allow the contact, then gingerly reached for her right hand with his left to lace their fingers together. “All of it,” Holly sighed in frustration. She unconsciously tightened her grip around his fingers. The warmth of his touch was consoling and seemed to soothe something within her; she felt her vulnerabilities gradually surfacing as she spoke. “I know what this promotion means to the People, and it’s an achievement to know that I’ve worked through so many hardships just to come this far. I know it, I really do! But even so... There’s a part of me that almost can’t do it. It feels almost wrong to be a new Commander. To be standing where Julius and Vinyáya once did. To replace Julius.” “Technically, it’s less a replacement since you’re assuming command of a number of squadrons and thus continue to serve the People with your skills and experience,” Artemis began, before he caught himself. “But I digress. This isn’t the time for semantics. Especially since in hindsight, you had very obviously meant it in spirit.” Holly scowled, but she couldn’t stop a tiny smile from ghosting her lips. “Artemis, you’re my best friend and I love you, but you’re incorrigibly bad at cheering people up sometimes.” “That I am, and for that, my sincerest apologies.” Here, the young man attempted a contrite grin, even as his blue eyes softened with a touch of fondness. A rare sight indeed for Artemis Fowl, reserved wholly for those dearest to him, but one that never failed to draw a soft chuckle from the elf. “Look, Holly. You’re not replacing Julius,” Artemis continued, squeezing Holly’s fingers again in reassurance. “No one can replace Julius, much like no one can replace you. And I’m not going to drown you with platitudes—I’m sure you’ve already heard more than enough in the last couple of days. But I will say this: Julius would be immensely proud of you, as much as any of us here today. You know this, and I daresay there isn’t anyone else as qualified as you to carry on his legacy and all that he stood for.” Holly found herself matching his grin with a smile of her own at his words, the dull ache of sorrow and anxiety within her lessening. She squeezed Artemis’s fingers back, and was reminded again how much she appreciated their continued companionship over the years. And not for the first time in many years, she wondered what her life would have been like if she hadn’t known him, and Butler and Juliet. (She imagined it might have been quieter, simpler no doubt, but she was a maverick adventurer at heart and knew the boring life wouldn’t suit her anyway.) Holly chuckled softly, her mismatched eyes—one hazel, one blue—gleaming with warmth now. “Maybe you aren’t too bad at this cheering up business.” This time, it was Artemis’s turn to laugh. He inclined his head and gave her a polite nod, accepting the compliment with as much humility as his natural inclination towards smug victory would allow. “I learned from the best.” “My word, and flattery now too?” Holly was smirking now. “If I didn’t know any better, I might suspect the mastermind Artemis Fowl has been replaced with a clone. Oh right, that had been your own idea too. What do we call you now, Artemis Fowl the Second Version 2.0? Artemis Fowl Squared?” A somewhat pained and mortified expression crossed Artemis’s features, before he let out a long-suffering sigh. “Please don’t call me Artemis Fowl Squared,” he protested weakly, fingers massaging his temples. “That joke is wholly pun-based, and is neither mathematically nor biologically correct since a clone is never 100% percent an exact copy.” But his chagrin was fleeting, and he was soon laughing again with her as he conceded defeat to the same elf twice in the span of less than an hour. Then again, Holly had always been the reigning champion of their friendly verbal banters. They sat in a comfortable silence for several moments, watching the clouds drift lazily above them, listening to the thrill of birdsong in the distant woodland. “Thanks, Arty,” Holly said at length, her voice soft and grateful. “For reminding me of what Julius would do. You’ll be there at the ceremony, won’t you? You, Butler and Juliet?” “Of course. That’s the reason why you’re here today, right? To invite us to the promotion ceremony.” Holly grinned and punched his shoulder playfully. “Don’t act all innocent. You’ve probably known all about my promotion long before today and that’s how Foaly roped you into this cheering up business and what-not. Rascals, both of you.” “You have to admit, it wasn’t too bad a plan. And it worked. Besides, we hardly get to see each other—I’m almost inclined to think that either the universe has been conspiring to keep us from spending a little time together, or that you’ve secretly been avoiding me.” Artemis’s brows were arched as though scandalized by either suggestion, even as his eyes remained bright with mirth, and Holly continued to chuckle. Then his gaze softened, lips curved into a smile as he allowed himself a moment of heartfelt sincerity. “I’ve missed you, Holly. It’s good to be with you like this again.” “Me too, Artemis.” It wasn’t long before they spotted the approaching figures crossing the meadows from the direction of the manor. Butler was leading the small group, a huge wicker basket—filled with a selection of cheese and canapés, and a bottle of Jean François Ganevat Vin Jaune—in one hand, and a picnic blanket draped over the other. Juliet trailed several paces behind him, with one of the twins, Beckett Fowl, dangling from her shoulders like an energetic spider monkey. And marching stiffly with his pale fingers gripped around Juliet’s left hand was Myles Fowl, his eyes bright and piercing behind his round spectacles. “I’ll go help Butler with the picnic blanket.” Artemis stood up, brushing grass and fallen petals from his trousers. “Be right back.” Holly watched his retreating back as Artemis walked down the grassy knoll towards his family. And it struck her then just how much her friend had grown and changed (even in a cloned body) over the last two years: his frame still angular but less gangly and more lithe; his posture relaxed, almost unguarded and amiable at times. Growth and change... For the barest of moments, in the sudden gust of wind around her, Holly thought she could almost hear the ghostly whispers of Julius Root from memories past— “This promotion is not for you; it’s for the People.” “If it makes any difference, I’m proud of you, Holly.” “... Be well.” —And she smiled then, exhaling softly as she rose to her feet. “Arty, wait.” Artemis paused, glancing back at her with a puzzled look as Holly jogged up to his side and reached for his hand. “I’ll come with you.” —End—

[pooktales]

Dannox Does Dalaran

~45min read

In an alternate universe where Kael'thas is king...

*doom music* The quaint Legerdermain Lounge in Dalaran has an amateur comedy night. Dannox, a raunchy Night Elf druid, decides to do his standup routine. You may recognize Dannox from such things as my ‘My Life for My Prince’ fanfiction series. This post is LGBTQ+ friendly. It is also 18+ and NSFW because of dirty jokes. Enjoy!

...

Center stage at the Legerdermain Lounge in Dalaran. A dark-pearl skinned Night Elf man with deep green hair down to his waist strides up to take the Gnomish microphone device. He smiles well, as if he’s been laughing really hard back stage with the staff already. Charcoal gray t-shirt that looks soft. Light blue, linen slacks. Unless your eyes are playing tricks, there seems to be a shadow, or an outline through the thin fabric, of his bare hip underneath and the start of a muscular thigh. He moves again, and it’s gone. Dannox has spread hands and feet apart, bracing as if he’ll have to fight the strange mic device at first, but then cuts that out quickly since the mic is not a toy. Maybe no one noticed.

His joy is genuine and infectious. It’s hard not to smile along with him.

“Hey, so before I begin—Shit, you’d think I’d be used to a moon-white spotlight in the dark, being a Night Elf, but I’m just not. Can you offensive fuckers turn that off? Okay?” Dannox cackles and squints. He looks at his dark hands, while adjusting the mic up to his height. Dannox is magnetizing in a way. Fun to watch his sly mannerisms, his voice is rich.

A burst of embarrassed laughter in the back, while the Gnome techs actually accede to Dannox’s demand. It’s not a joke, they really are trying to fix the lights for him.

“So. Dalaran. The big D. Well, the other big D. They say if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. Which… is exactly what life is like with a big dick anyway...

“Sorry if you thought I couldn’t say that word—DICK. But back to my joke. You do one guy, or lady—I’m bi—and word gets around, right? So I make it everywhere.

“Oh, Dalaran. Come on, baby. I just got here and you’re turning me on. I’m lit for a magical city right now, and that is so wrong. Wow, what a weird fetish that would be…

“Seriously, though. This place cracks me up. A fancy, beautiful city. Perfectly designed. A beacon of hope. Holy, in a way. Floating majestically through the air. And plenty of massive, purple, phallic objects poking the sky.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me, I know it’s not really like that—that’s not why those spires are there. They have a real functionality. What got my mind dirty in the first place were all the snooty, Kirin’ Tor, tight arseholes walking up and down the streets… Yum.

Shocked, sort of uncomfortable laughter, but Dannox presses on, “Hey, don’t judge me. You guys been to the Underbelly, yet?” He shakes his head sorrowfully, “Don’t go down there. I mean, did you hear what it’s called? The Underbelly. That’s another low-key sex thing about Dalaran. This place is secretly very dirty, believe me. Underbelly. Do you know what’s under my belly? Well, on most nights. He’s not here right now.” Dannox uses a hand to shade his eyes, pretends to look around the room for someone. Loose laughter escapes from the back. “Sorry, that one was too easy. But yeah, so please don’t go down there. Just a lot of nasty fuckers like myself, flagging themselves to get jumped from behind by some rogue, and trying to wrestle each other—” Dannox starts laughing and cuts himself off, “All… oiled up. Well I was, anyway. Okay, I lied. I’ve been here before. Plenty of times.”

To a woman looking very serious and refusing to laugh in the front row, “Ma’am. Ma’am? I’m going to need you to loosen up tonight, okay? You’re in the hands of a professional tonight. I’m serious. I’m more serious than you are right now about that statement, do you know why? I’m fully trained at this, I was once a very successful stripper, I promise you.” Excited whistles and shouts, “I know smut and I’m proud of that, so tonight you have my express permission to laugh at my nasty jokes.

“But I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, ma’am, really I am. Please forgive me. Do you want a lap dance to make up for it? I’m being serious. Would that help? You don’t?

“Damn, I’m getting old then. Anyone here heard of Commando Dan, from Fel Candy? West side of Kezan? There must be a few Goblins in the house.”

A couple of gravelly cheers.

“Hoo, yeah! That’s me. Look how far I’ve fallen. I still got all my clothes on and people are even laughing.”

The blazing spotlight finally goes out, leaving Dannox in a darker room, offset by easy peach candlelight. Some polite applause for the lights being fixed. Then glasses click gently as people drink, begin to enjoy their food once more.

“Hey, great! I can see again, though you all really can’t see me, cause it’s dark. And your eyes have to adjust. Sucks to be you. Shout out to the other Night Elves in the house. The revolution begins now, by the way. Hail to the night, motherfuckers…”

Throaty laughter, especially from some kal’dorei men in the back.

Dannox looks down and snakes the microphone wire around the stand, to give himself space to move with it, “Anyway, I am definitely grateful for my chance at amateur night here in Dalaran.” He winks, “I intend to take the prize. I’m already a prize, I figured we’d go together.”

He turns a little to his left, sticks a hand in his pants pocket. Also, semi-sheer fabric confirmed. Nice.

“So. A little about me to start, other than my being an exceptional stripper once upon a time. Today? I’m a bum. A handsome bum, but my husband reminds me that still means I’m lazy and bum. I do nothing. This is my first thing that I’m doing, after a hiatus. Stripper in retirement. Never thought you’d see the day, right?” Dannox shrugs, grinning anew, “Actually, I do work hard, just not in the way you’d expect. I’m a trophy husband that got picked up years ago in a seedy strip club, I kid you not… stripping my clothes off in Kezan, which is a beautiful, nearly lawless Goblin Island, at least on the redlight district side. Anything goes on that side. A Blood Elf and a Night Elf can meet up, get it on, and have all kinds of adventures together in broad daylight. Faltheriel and I once had a dirty weekend that turned into… ten years now? And so I got picked up by the man who eventually became—who eventually would become—the Chief Advisor to King Kael’thas Sunstrider.

“The king? Yeah, we live in an alternate universe back home. It’s totally normal though, don’t worry. It’s like living in the suburbs—hardly anyone goes there, it’s nice cause it’s less expensive. We get crime, but it’s weirder suburbs, alt-universe crime. Like… whenever we read about Kael’thas’ new fun addictions and various shortcomings in the news. It was Murlocos Tacos last week. His daughter caught footage of him on the floor eating them while drunk or high, probably both cause it’s Kael’thas, and slurring every single thing he said. It came on all the scrying orbs. That was a rough week for him.”

Some snickers. “Yeah, you guys out here have dead, looted body Kael’thas at the end of a Quel’danas Isle dungeon. But back home, we pretty much have the Hearthstone Kael’thas which is way nicer. And funnier. I thought I’d get up here and do a Hearthstone Kael’thas impression but… yeah, he’d send some people over to kill me. He’s still an evil genius with bloodthirsty Sunfury agents. Also, ‘I’m coming doooown!’

“Haha… So worth it. Best part, when I get assassinated by Sunfury agents soon and I die, I’m totally going to ask my wife and husband to put that exact quote on my tombstone. That’ll really piss Kael off.

“And then, what is he even gonna do? Dig up my body and beat me some more?” Dannox looks down, casually kicks the wire for the mic out of his way, “Actually, I wouldn’t put it past that fel-addicted, demon-fucking motherfucker. He’s into everything.

“Anyway, we’re actually cool, me and Kael’thas. Don’t worry. And I truly like him. Since my husband works for Kael, and I am a druid after all—I heal. I heal a body good… I get to talk to Kael’thas himself sometimes if you can believe it. But it’s all so horrible. He’s a good-looking man and he knows that I’m bi. And I’m an awful person, generally. I guess that’s why Kael and I get along.”

Dannox walks to the other side of the stage, “And then Filthy—that’s my husband, don’t ask… Well, you will ask about my husband’s nickname, but I’m warning you not to, not yet, I’ll tell you later—Filthy is practically like Kael’s family at this point, so I always take my chance to rip on our lovely king. Also, Kael’s Blood Knights. Blood Knights are such easy targets. And mind you, in this alt universe, Azeroth is united, the factions are at peace, sorta. Kind of like how Dalaran lets everybody in, we’re sort of like that. Anyway, so we’re out in Netherstorm again with King Kael’thas, waiting on the Sunfury army to show up. Kael’thas looks right at me and he says, ‘I think I really like having a Night Elf man salute me, for a change.’

“And then I wink, ‘…It’s only natural, Kael’thas.’

“Hoo, boy. Poor Kael’thas. I think he was trying to be community-spirited. But, you know, he just tangled with the wrong Night Elf. Or, exactly the right one. Remember, I do like to get oiled-up first.”

More laughter.

“And then these soldiers of his, they’re taking a really long time to arrive. So one of the Blood Knights that’s already there, she turns to me. Everyone’s curious about the Night Elves, I suppose. Daphne goes… and I guess she didn’t let on yet that I’m unbelievably nasty, by some miracle. That’s what happens when hubby refuses to talk about home at work, I guess.

“Daphne asks me, ‘I heard you were the bane of Malfurion’s existence at one point.’

“I say, ‘Well, only for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time.’

Gasps, shocked laughter.

“See? I can keep it professional if I want to. And it’s fine, that’s another world leader I’m cool with. Malfurion and I go… way back. Right. In the back.

“Hey, no judgment. We all have our reasons for leaving the Emerald Dream. Am I right, fellow druids? Or, getting banned from it by a jealous wife. Hey, I’m calling her out, that wasn’t cool. She should know by now, everyone secretly loves Malfurion.

“Then I decided to have some fun with my husband Filthy—Faltheriel—who was standing right there next to me, turning beet-red, ‘What’s this, Faltheriel? You don’t look well, and your forehead is so warm. Maybe you’re coming down with something. Let’s go get you into bed, make you perfectly comfortable… then see what happens.’

“He didn’t like that. And in front of his employer, too. You see why he calls me a bum. I’m so good at being a trophy husband and jobless, it’s like I think everyone else needs to lose their job. Anyway, Faltheriel left to go do something else. Divorce me or something, I don’t remember what he said that afternoon. It’s not important.

“There was also a nice girl with them, a tall redhead named Tempest. I think she’s a retribution Paladin—Blood Knight, whatever. They all get to talking about old times, and she recalls how my husband used to be a zealot for Kael’thas, because he was. Or is. I’ll put it this way, ‘Kael’thas’ is the opposite of our safe word at home. It’s more Filthy’s trigger. Filthy gets one. One ‘Kael’thas’ every evening, and after that he has to stop. Don’t ask me how he works for the guy. I’m a sleaze, Faltheriel’s a fanboy, I guess. We struggle through this life together in our exciting marriage, putting up with all you muggles.

“I’m not joking with you. In person, Kael’thas is a very handsome man ontop of everything else and Faltheriel’s only mortal. Like I said, we have amazing, alt-universe Hearthstone Kael’thas. It’s a different outfit every hour with that guy. My favorite is nineties Kael’thas. He shows up with slicked-back blonde hair, neon shapes on his t-shirt and a giant cell phone, obsessing about how Arthas stole Jaina Proudmoore from him, and he needs revenge in time for the Dalaran Academy dance.

“Hey, I just remembered, you guys would have been there for all that Arthas in ripped stonewash jeans, shoving Kael’thas into a locker stuff. Beat, ba-beat, ba-ba-ba-beat, gooooo Dalaran!

“Anyway. Wow, I keep going off what I memorized. I need a minute.” Dannox winces laughter and pinches at the bridge of his nose, before calming down. “So. Faltheriel and his crew were all zealots back then, doing bad things for Kael’thas, but Faltheriel can get right in the danger zone till this day, remembering weird Kael’thas facts and lore, though I do love him. Tempest goes, ‘Look, I’m a Blood Knight and Faltheriel’s intense obsession over Kael’thas even makes me uncomfortable. Dannox, are you sure everything is alright?’

“I go, ‘Eh. It’s all about energy, where you direct it. Faltheriel can revv up his cute little engine all day if he wants to, as long as, at the end of that day, I’m the one who directly benefits.’

Daphne, as Tempest is laughing, ‘Uh… what?’

“I say, ‘It’s called husband physics.’

“And it is, it really is! That’s how you manage a marriage with a fanboy. I’ll only worry if Faltheriel comes home cosplaying and threatens that we need to take an emergency family vacay to Blizzcon. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But when your husband likes to dress up as a succubus… you keep an eye on it. He’s going as Drag Queen Azshara next year, by the way. And there’s rumor of an ‘It’s Raining Men’ act to go with it, but Rachel and I are mostly letting Filthy have his alone time with the costume and his music for now. We’re all really excited. Albeit—each in his own way.

“Later that day, with the Blood Knights you know--the Sunfury finally arrive and it’s time for us to get moving, mount up to go someplace. I’m on my nightsaber. They’re staring at my beast. You would… I say to Daphne, ‘Let’s have somebody ride up front, and then the other person can climb on the back. Don’t worry, Faltheriel and I do it all the time where we’re from.’

“This guy Sunthraze goes, ‘In Darnassus? Or do you mean Silvermoon where Faltheriel’s from?’

“I say, ‘Wait, my wife wouldn’t want me to finish that joke.’

“Sometimes, Faltheriel does really get annoyed with me when I make those kinds of jokes with his colleagues. I mean, they are his coworkers after all. I guess that’s unkind in a way. But that’s also okay because my husband and I like to fight. Or, that other thing that begins with the letter ‘F’.

“That one too obvious? I can be subtle as well. I’m a centaur if you don’t think about that too much.”

“Now, please ask yourselves... Why was that not put in as one of the male Night Elf pickup lines? It’s excellent.”

Dannox then kindly leans down to the first row again, “While we’re on the topic, ma’am, I see that you’re smiling now. I knew you would. But I wanted to say, I am very sorry that you didn’t want that lap dance before. These are my emergency tear-away pants, as well. They’re not just awesome fitted slacks. But I need you to know, it’s too late now. Like the Goblins say, ‘If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it!’ he snaps, pretending to have real attitude.

He straightens up again, as the laughter dies down, “…Well, in my case, a giant cock ring.”

A raucous reaction spreads from the cheap seats. The laughter makes it hard to hear the next part, as the woman begins talking and gesturing up at him, “… Huh? Haha!” Dannox leans halfway to listen to her, then attempts to stop his own laughter, “After the show? Really?! Wow, you’ve come a long way. Alright, I give in. Ladies and gentlemen, please clap for Offended Lady, I’ve got a convert! Welcome to the dark side. But you’ll have to run fast after the lap dance, my wife’s here somewhere. Thanks, Offended Lady, I’m so glad we’re cool now. Come find me on Tumblr later, too. I can’t follow you back, but I promise you won’t regret it.

“Well, back to me and my husband. Sometimes, I have to be reminded that I’ve got one... Oh! So Faltheriel and me arguing and fighting--it’s alright, really…

“I try not to pull on Faltheriel’s hair unless I mean it.

“Actually, when we first met, it was better. When we first met, I told Faltheriel I was a baker. Go on, you can ask me, ‘Why is that?’

“Well, you don’t let strange men glaze your buns, obviously.

“I really love that joke. I tell that one a lot. You know, usually, there’s an upstanding person nearby—not you, ma’am. We already addressed that, like I said, and you kindly booked me tonight from 12-12:07am,” Dannox gives a sly wink and checks his watch, “But usually it’s someone with these excellent manners who warns that I’m a horrible person. Like I didn’t know that already, but it’s their duty to glare up here, gasp all shocked and say that. Do you know what I tell people who act like that? After I tell the joke, ‘You don’t let strange men glaze your buns, obviously.’ Then they say, ‘Dannox, you are a horrible person.’

“I clarify, ‘No… I’m a baker.’

“Very innocent, just like that. Even funnier when, truth is, I do know how to bake. But I only let Faltheriel find that out years later. I waited until after we got engaged before I baked him anything. I was far more serious about the success of that baker joke than our relationship.

“But it’s true, Faltheriel and I like to fight. We always have. Though, mostly, it’s wrestling. Before bedtime. Aaaaand in this corner…” Dannox raises his voice, as if about to call a wrestling match, “they lived happily ever after.

“Also, now that we’ve been married for about a decade, Faltheriel doesn’t always listen to me. Then again, I don’t always face him while we talk… It’s win-win.

“Though, being totally serious now—You know, when I first met Faltheriel, he wasn’t facing me. Do you know how goddam gorgeous you have to be to look like someone’s soul mate from behind?!

“And I’m a good husband to him. I truly am. I make sure that Filthy never falls in the shower, whether he appreciates it or not.

“You know, I once lied to Faltheriel and told him it was still dark outside. He couldn’t get out from under me anyways.

“Another thing, Faltheriel and I don’t always communicate well. Sometimes, we just grunt and slap each other’s thighs a lot.” Dannox, now raising his voice over the laughter, “Is that weird? Maybe other couples don’t do that as much, I don’t know.

“Being married to such a beautiful man is hard. God, it gets so hard. Sorry—was that a low blow? I’ll put it away now. Though it’s been going on for so long, I’ll have to roll it up, first.

“Anyway, sometimes I say this thing to my husband when it’s bedtime and he’s not in the mood. I totally respect him for that, I do… But I say to him, ‘Filthy--’ I guess that’s his pet name when he’s being adorable, or really irritating. Both a fun challenge for me. I realize I keep switching in and out of that, I tell him, ‘Filthy, I don’t mind if you’re too tired. You can sleep, honey. Just lie on your stomach, and loosen up first.’”

Dannox hangs in there, through a mixture of booing and hard laughter, “See? It’s so simple! It is so simple to make a good marriage, you guys. A dirty, dirty marriage with a lovely woman who puts up with us and a man who used to work for the Burning Legion, and who can END you if your jokes ever fail to land.

“I can tell you, if you don’t like these jokes, that’s fine. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve already suffered enough. It was bombs over Shadowmoon Valley while I honed this joke routine in my house, I promise.

“By the way, don’t try that at home. Don’t try my sense of humor at your beloved home, not unless you enjoy having done to you what my husband used to do to his prisoners-slash-victims. Well, he still does it. But I-I get out sometimes.” Dannox rolls his big shoulder, pretends to twitch, “Like tonight.

“But I do find Faltheriel irresistible, so I admit that I keep trying to get into trouble with him. This one time, Faltheriel was really fussing at me, he really wanted me to leave him alone so he could read. Now I don’t know if I’m extra horny because I’m a big Night Elf compared to him—he’s a Blood Elf, I hope the Kael’thas thing gave that away—or because I’m just, well, totally nasty all the time, so much so, I like to give my husband a nickname that stops him from forgetting that I’m a dirty alpha male in this thing and I own his glorious ass… Told you I’d explain later in the show and that you didn’t want to know… But anyway, one evening while Filthy was downstairs reading and ignoring me like that, I just decided to compromise.

“I say to him, ‘Fine, let’s play a game to pass the time. I’ll be good if you’re good.’ He’s sensible, so he says, ‘Deal. What would you like to play, darling?’ He goes for the checkerboard. Then I said, ‘Faltheriel, this game I have is so fun. This is so easy. I’ll love it. It goes like this. Can you bend over the couch and not move for a half hour?’ He’s a sweetie and too trusting at times, so he actually does it. Then I say, ‘Also, this is one of those games where you can’t say ‘No.’

“I got slapped for that. It’s really bad when another man slaps you to defend his honor. And of course, truth be told… I liked it. Poor Faltheriel.

“Elune above, my Blood Elf husband is cute! He is so yummy. Fun fact, Faltheriel only wanted a sweet little hug last night, but in for a penny, in for a pounding.

“Though, the Cenarion Circle is probably going to come back into our lives, I think, to take Filthy away and try to find him a forever home.

“I mean, a new home with a good mummy and daddy. And walks in the park that don’t involve shagging behind the trees. And no bear-bottom spankings. Horny druid husbands are the worst, I should know.

“On another night, I told Faltheriel my balls were lonely. He brought his over to play.

“Awww, so sweet of him. Also, Faltheriel is really good at sex, but I would never tell him that. I just ask him to keep trying.

“Another thing about us, I almost forgot. When I first met Faltheriel, I got naked fast. He didn’t like it at the beginning, but he loved it in the end.

“And once, I told Faltheriel I was a piñata so that he wouldn’t stop beating me with it.

“And the most sex Faltheriel and I ever had was on the same night our wife had our first child, our twins. She was… SO mad at us.

“You know, when our wife had the twins—they’re fraternal, one Night Elf, one Blood Elf—Faltheriel forgot for a moment and went wild, accused Rachel of cheating. It was then that I reminded my husband that, um… I have sex with our wife too.

“Uh-huh. That’s right. That’s what you get when you jump to conclusions about your good spouse, Faltheriel.

“He’s not here tonight, actually. Faltheriel couldn’t make it. That’s why I’m really ripping on him, I guess. But my wife’s here, I think I said that earlier. Hi Rach, say hi. She’s a knockout, isn’t she? She’s so sweet and so kind, and hopefully, this wonderful Human woman won’t lock me in my cage later…

“And you know another thing, three-way marriages are interesting. They are so interesting. Women change, their appetites grow or something and you adapt in weird ways. Our wife gets so horny at times, it really does take the two of us. Wow, she looks mad at me now. Guess I shouldn’t have said that. But, then again, when she holds out, it’s like the world is coming to an end for us men.

“Just kidding, Faltheriel and I are perfectly fine.

“Sorry hun, it’s true. You shouldn’tve got us that set of matching spoons for the holidays. It’s just too bad. That cheap gift you got was like homo-erotic Kaja-Cola, it gave us ideas.

“I’m an idiot, I apologize. Anyway, this one time… the best stories start that way, have you noticed? So this one time when Rachel wasn’t there, Faltheriel came straight upstairs after work and found me in bed with another woman. God, he’s so adorable… After I put the mirror back and slipped the pink scrunchie from his soft, soft, ponytail, he calmed down and it was an amazing night.

“Seriously, though. My husband Faltheriel is so man-pretty, we only realized our wife had none of her own lingerie like… a week ago? And we’d been together for ten years? Yeah, it’s like that.

“So Faltheriel buys me my own lingerie, for once. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like any of the fuzzy, silky, or bright colored stuff he brought home. Eh, the see-through stuff was okay. The really super-short, see through stuff I was already poking out of, that we could do each other in immediately—that, I liked. Nice guy, but he really wasted his money on me, I tell ya.

“Alright, last joke. It’s June and I know everyone’s hot in here. You’re all ready to finish up and call it a night. So I’ll try and end on a respectable note.

“It isn’t June? Well, I know that, I don’t care. Listen to the joke, goddammit.

“Ahhh, my wonderful husband, Filthy,” to rising, expectant laughter, “Faltheriel ‘Filthy’ Darkweaver has the best ass in the world. It feels like I’m fucking a magical rainbow in there. Was that one too obvious, because it’s Pride Month? Did you know that big, horny, sweaty, well-hung unicorns fuck rainbows? Nice image. Yeah, enjoy your Pride Month.”

Dannox nervously puts the microphone back and waves once, while people scream laughter. “If you liked my set, please tell the very nice Legerdemain Lounge staff. I’d love to come back. Oh, I never said my whole name. I’m Dannox Silvermoon Darkweaver. That’s right. That was my real last name, I was a dream come true when my Blood Elf husband finally found me and saved me. For me, every day is Pride Month because I’m so proud of my family and so happy to be here these days. It wasn’t always like that.

“And Rachel honey, I’m so grateful to you for loving me and letting me be me. I’m coming straight home to you baby… after this one lap dance,” an anxious laugh, as Dannox checks his watch, “Uh. I want to thank you all for a lovely show. Night, everybody.”

More whistles and another round of cheers. Then, the Night Elf man confidently jogs off-stage.

…

Aww, thanks for reading this far if you made it!

Were you in the audience? What do you have to shout out, or ask Dannox after his set? He might respond.

@elendeare

[etheshadowlord]

An unasked for and completely impromptu review of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Pt. 1

It’s March and I’ve been in a nostalgic mood as of late. So I decided to start binge watching Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. However I thought about it and you know what, I’m going to give each episode a basic non professional from the perspective of fun and possibly critiquing the villains dastardly plan as I go. Note if I can make it through the first three seasons well I’ll keep going with all the others I can get a hold of. So let’s begin.  NOTE: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1 Episode 1: Day of the Dumpster.

Let’s begin with the first episode. Look, there’s enough people who can point to you the continuity errors and flaws in the stock footage used. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here to ask the important questions such as.....how does a space dumpster work? (I mean obviously magic.) Or how is there a puddle on the moon? These are the important questions that must be asked......but I don’t think Rita will answer me.

So Rita and her motley crew escape the cosmic magic trash bin and begin their plans of world domination.Starting with Angel Grove in California?

Stuff happens, she gets beat. End episode.

Fun factor: * * * * -

Cheese Factor: * * * * *

Evil Plans brilliance: * * * - -

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1 Episode 2: High Five.

I had this episode in the past on VHS when I was younger. Basics: Yellow ranger is afraid of heights, this is important for plot as Rita attempts to trap the rangers in a time warp like she did Zordon while Finster prepares a Skeleton boi to fight the rangers in the time warp. This Skeleton boi later gets replaced with a knight.

This knight is then promptly munched by Rex Zord and the day is saved. Also Trini solved her fear of heights to save Billy earlier in the episode.

Fun: 3/5

Minion Incomepetence: Max

Bones: RIP

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1 Episode 3: Teamwork.

This is the first episode that features both the Mega Weapon thing that becomes a staple for the rest of the series. So the girls Kimberly and Trini are doing a petition to have the industrial waste place clean up their act. Okay I’m not sure what the laws are here but to sign a Petition you need to be at least 18 or older last I checked. Anyway they go to the dump place where there is no one there it looks like it’s been abandoned for quite some time while also being recently in use. Turns out it’s a trap to try and squash the girls and the guys separately. An almost ingenious plan. Honestly the only jarring thing is the Minotaur got super charged and was fighting the Megazord but ended up getting taken down by the team up canon of the season? 

Fun:3 out of 5

Teamwork: 4 out of 5

Confusing: 4 out of 5

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1 Episode 4: A Pressing Engagement.

So this episode begins with Jason working on breaking the bench press record at the youth center. The record being 1009. So all he needs to do is 1010. He misses at the beginning, don’t worry he’ll get it eventually. So while the kids are being well kids and we wonder where the script writers got the slang they gave the kids in the show Rita comes up with a brand new plan to destroy those goody goody 10 shoes. That is to separate Jason from his friends and then squash him. For this they make a buff sphinx. (U Got That begins playing.)

This is also the episode where they introduce the Megazords need of the power crystals. Why they didn’t need that in the first place is beyond me. What bugs me even more is the fact that Jason knew what they were in the first place and how to use them. Anyway, buff cat team looses and the rangers win and like I said earlier, Jason breaks the record.

Fun: 4/5

Record: Broken

Metagaming: So much.

P.S: Now I sort of wonder if there are Tabletop games inspired by Super Sentai/Power rangers?

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1 Episode 5: Different Drum.

If you didn’t start noticing the human element stories adopting the life lessons motif of the early to mid 90′s yet you’ll notice now as we are introduced to the one episode character (As far as I remember.) Melissa. Melissa is deaf. A fact that we are shown and reminded of a few times but seems to get forgotten a few times by the other characters that are supposed to be her friends.Kimberly didn’t forget and that means Kimberly gets a shadow gold star for being a good character and a good friend.

Anyway the evil plan involves a Gnarly Gnome, a magic hypnotic accordion, and hostages. The plan falls apart as Melissa can’t be hypnotized by the rather grating music. Dear lord my ears! So she goes get help. Does she go to the police because her friends were kidnapped by a monster? Nope, she goes to the juice bar to get the five others who actually can do something. I swear, the more I write this the more I’ve come to the conclusion that this is just an elaborate Tabletop game that we’re watching. Anyway rangers saves the hostages and put an end to that terrible accordion.

Final Notes: How much clay does Finster have? Infinite? Okay.

Fun: 4/5

Accordion: Grating

Police: Nowhere to be found.

Thus ends Pt. 1 of this series of review of each episode of the Power Rangers and even the movies when I get to them. Look forward to Pt. 2 which will be episodes 6-10. Until then!

[selkie-elf]

Asphalt Cracks and Sunflowers

Read in AO3

Oh wow I actually wrote something with John and Davenport. This is mostly awkwardness with some hurt/comfort thrown in. 

It’s always awkward when the two of them are alone in the house like this. Both of them try to avoid it the best they can. Usually, when Merle is away, camping with his kids or seeing Magnus, Davenport takes his boat and goes to the sea. John doesn’t mind it.  Being all alone in the house, not counting Mookie’s pet turtle is okay in small doses. And he can of course always call Merle, if it gets too lonely. But this time is different. There had been an accident and Dav was trying his best to repair his boat, but still. They had to spend the weekend together, and with no Merle to break the ice.

Friday had gone pretty good. Davenport had visited Lucretia and John had spent his day reading. Living as a plane just trying to consume everything for over a hundred years had not really left any time to read the classics. Merle’s bookshelf might not have been  the greatest place to start, but John was not yet ready to show his face in public. At least without Merle. But Mavis had borrowed him some books from a local library, giving him more options than just “Gardener’s dirty secrets”-series.

Davenport had come home late, a bit drunk from wine, and just collapsed to their bed tired. He might have mumbled a small “Hello” to John, but he wasn’t sure. John had made sure that the gnome had actually made it to bed safe, before making himself a bed in the guestroom. He had no problem in sleeping in a same bed with Dav, but most of the time there was a fat dwarf snoring between them. When there was none, it just felt awkward.

***

Saturday was pretty much the same. Dav’s day consisted of mostly trying to repair the hole on his boat. He had gotten out of the house as soon as he had woken up, carrying a heavy toolbox with him. No “Good Morning”s, just a nod at John sitting eating breakfast.

John decided that it could be better if he stayed upstairs reading and staring at the sea. A peaceful day.

Letting his eyes wonder from the edge of the page, in the corner of his eye, he noticed Davenport taking a break and sitting in the shadow. The gnome looked exhausted and dizzy, wiping his brow with a rag. John had hesitated for a moment. There would be no harm done in a little help. He closed the book, carefully putting the bookmark on the right page and walked to the kitchen. He took a tray out from the cupboard and filled two glasses with water. While looking for some ice in the freezer, he actually found a box of popsicles. Merle had probably bought them for Mavis and Mookie, but he took two anyway.

John sneezed, spilling a bit of water on the tray, quickly balancing the tray again. The sand felt hot under his bare feet and the sun shined brightly. No wonder Davenport had needed a break in this heat.

“Hi Dav” John greeted, feeling his shoulders tense a bit. Davenport was leaning on the side of the boat, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Hello John” Davenport smiled a bit.

“ I brought you something to drink, I don’t think Merle would be really happy to find out that you had a heatstroke while he was away”, John sighed and sat down next to Davenport, setting the tray between the two old men.  The gnome grabbed one of the glasses and chugged it down almost in one gulp. He wiped his mouth, looking away from John. John lifted his own glass, one where almost all of the water had splashed on to the tray and took a sip. It was actually kind of pleasant in the shadow of the boat. The salty sea air felt good around them, and hearing the waves splash on to the shoreline was calming.

“Thank you John,” Davenport said as he put the glass back to the wooden tray. “ Gods it’s hot.“ John nodded in agreement.

“I also brought you a popsicle. I don’t think Mookie will mind” John smiled as Dav started to unwrap the icy treat.

“ Well, if he asks something about them, we  can just buy him more,” the gnome laughed. John chuckled a bit, noticing how his shoulders had started a relax a bit.

“ So, how are you doing?” John asked,taking another sip of the cold water.

“Good. If everything goes well, I’ll have her repaired for next week.  Merle is having another camping trip then, right?” Dav asked holding the popsicle in his hand.

“No, it’s the week after. Next week the kids are over at Hekuba, but Merle is at home. You remember wrong,” John chuckled an answer staring at his toes. Davenport stiffened, staring blankly in front of him, before continuing.

“Okay,” Dav sighed. John could see his tail slowly drawing circles in the sand.

“Okay?” John said. As he realized what he had just said, he felt the shame rising in his cheeks.

“You remember wrong.”

He had screwed up. He know that the whole memory thing was painful to him, gods why had he said that. Why why why

“John are you okay? There is a crack-” the gnome commented, genuine worry in his voice as he tried to reach for John’s cheek. John, quickly covered the small black crack just below his eye, and reassured that he was alright.

“Well, I think I’ll go back inside”, John said, slamming his hands to his knees and standing up. He quickly took the wrap of the popsicle and lifted the tray up.

“John are you-”

“If you need anything, you can just shout. But like, you don’t have to stay outside. I’m upstairs” John tried to flash a smile, following his footsteps back to their house.

“Thank you John!” Davenport yelled after him, not even sure if John heard him anymore. After enjoying his popsicle, he carefully stuffed the wooden stick to his pocket, before taking the hammer to his hand and returning to his work.

***

John put the book in a pile of those he had already read. It had not been the greatest thing ever, but alright.  He could probably ask for Mavis if she had any good ones to recommend. He took a look at the clock, showing that it was nearly ten p.m. He stretched his back, hearing his old joints cracking. It was getting late, he could maybe grab a mug of tea before bed.

The stairs down creaked almost as much as his back as he walked to the lower half of the beach house.

“Dav?” he called. No answer. The house was hauntingly quiet. John could feel the panic tightening in his chest, before he finally noticed a familiar tail hanging from the couch. Dav had probably just curled up on the couch after work. Poor thing had been so tired he had not even climbed to the upstairs. After taking in a breath of relief, John continued his way to the kitchen.

Their cupboard was always messy. Ceramic mugs Kravitz had made for Merle and Davenport, old teacups, a Hunger themed mug Mookie had found on the fantasy costco. John wasn’t really fond of the idea of someone profiting of his past mistakes, but he was happy that at least some could now joke about the past, making stupid mugs and such. He humored himself with the idea of one day being remembered only by someone’s grandma owning a mug like the one he now held in his hand. When asked, someone could just answer “That’s antique, I don’t even remember where I got it”. A fun daydream, but John  knew that this plane had already forgotten enough.

John put the small kettle down to stove. For a moment he considered of boiling the water with his own fire, but quickly abandoned that thought. Even if Merle wasn’t home, John still felt a bit bad using his fire magic. How many times had he killed Merle with it? It must have hurted a quite a bit. And yet here he was. Living in the same house with him, calling Merle his lover, and Merle calling him one too. John took a deep breath and turned on the stove. He should have just gone to sleep. When you are tired and feel alone, bad thoughts have so much more power.

John leaned his hands against the marble of their kitchen platform, staring at the small puffs of steam that had started to rise from the kettle.

Dav caughed. John didn’t pay attention. They were both old, coughs were usual. But then he heard something else. Silent sobs and gasps for air were not just a side product of living long. John noticed the growing worry in his gut, rushing to the living room, leaving the kettle on the stove.

Dav was still sleeping on the couch, brow knitted and hands desperately grasping the fabric of his shirt. His tail was curled around his left leg tight. Between the sobs and murmurs, John could make out a couple of words. Mainly “No”, “Merle” and “Help”. He seemed scared, in pain, streaks of hair getting stuck on his forehead from sweat.

crack

John could clearly feel as the same crack from before opened again.

First, a step forward. Then another. Dav’s head was now thrashing around and he was panting heavily. John sat carefully at the end of the sofa.

“Dav?”

The gnome didn’t react to his name. John nudged himself a bit closer. There was a small voice in the back of his head that reminded him of some sort of warning about how you should not wake someone up from a nightmare, but he just couldn’t bare to watch.

“Dav!” John said and gently shook Davenport’s shoulder. The old captain’s eyes opened wide open in pure horror. Couple of tears getting stuck on his eyelashes as his eyes tried to focus. He quickly flinched away from John’s touch, scurrying to the other end of the sofa.

“Davenport?”John asked worried, afraid to even move a muscle. He had seen Davenport like this only once. It had been some sort of plane. Dav had just managed to throw the light of creation to Barry and ordered him to pilot the ship. John had cursed when he had seen the ship fly away. But Davenport had stayed. For the first time he saw him being alone and afraid. He had seen the terror on his eyes for just a moment, before a proud smirk took over his face as the Hunger consumed him. John knew that there was no use in trying to kill them. They’d be back in the next plane anyway. But still, in that moment, John, The Hunger had been happy of the fear they had been able to spread.

Another crack.

“I’m Davenport...I-i’m davenport...davenport” The gnome repeated over and over again as he tried to calm his breath. John tried to do the same, hand covering the crack on his cheek that was only spreading farther.

The kettle whistled on the stove. Dav covered his ears with shaking hands and closed his eyes. John stood up, running to the screaming kettle and moved it to a cool plate, spilling bit of the spoiling water to the counter. With a small curse, he settled the kettle down and turned off the heat.

He sucked his finger, where a small dribble of the water had landed and burned. Dav was still whimpering on the couch, ragged breaths echoing in the room. John tried to think.  He had seen this happening before but there was always Merle. He knew what to do. Should he call him? No it was the middle of the night and he probably had his stone turned off anyway. He would just ruin Merle night, like he hadn’t already ruined his life enough.

Crack

He saw a reflection of himself in the mirror hanging near the table. The crack now reached from his eye to his nose. John sucked in a breath and tried to find something else to look for. What he needed now was a way to help Dav calm down. Tea water was still too hot, and Dav could spill it on himself. Last thing he needed now was to get Dav hurt. John tried to looked around, objects coming just a blur as he tried to just think of anything.

What did Merle do when Dav had nightmares? This had happened before. But those times, John had just pretended to continue sleeping.

Merle was there. He knew what to say and what to do.

Merle. Flowers! Those could help! Or at least they would not hurt.

“Dav stay there I will be back, try stay calm!” John yelled, rushing past the sofa and  through the backdoor to their small backyard. Summer night was still full of light. Couple fireflies flew around the bushes filled with flowers. John had once tried to learn all the names of the flowers in the garden in dwarvish, but that project had stopped a while ago. He quickly ripped couple pink blooms from the nearest flower bush. As he reached to the bush, a small rabbit quickly hopped away in panic. John kept pulling flowers until he had a small bouquet of them. He could explain the ruin the bush was in to Merle later. He could help him plant new ones. While gardening he could explain everything else too.

***

Davenport’s tail was still tightly curled around his ankle. The worst of the panic was over, but the tears and the shaking still didn’t seem to stop. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was just a bad dream, nothing more. As he was just about to relax back in to the small nest he had made on the sofa, the back door slammed open. Gnome’s eyes flew open and he was pretty sure his own grip would cut  off circulation in his leg soon. He turned quickly, seeing something that could have might as well been part of his dream.

A mismatch mess of flowers, held by shaking hands filled with black cracks. Somewhere between the petals he could see man’s frightened eyes. But it was already hard enough to try to make out what was going on. John quickly hurried to his side, dirty footprints following him. As John sat down, making the sofa dip a bit, Dav couldn’t help but to wonder what the heck John was doing. John was wondering the same thing.  

John took a big yellow sunflower from the bouquet and offered it to Dav. Davenport wiped his eyes before raising his eyebrow.

“John, what is this?”, Dav muttered, but took the flower to his hands.

“Ummh... I thought that, you know? Merle helps you calm down? Merle, flowers?” John started to stutter, before dropping the flowers next to them on the sofa.

“Oh gods I am dumb!” he huffed out, slamming his hand to his face.

“Don’t worry John”, Davenport whispered. When John finally looked at the gnome again, he had started to slowly tearing the petals from a flower. They fell to the floor, as Dav muttered some old gnomish song between the sobs and ragged breaths. John just looked at him.

Some of the yellow petals would drop straight to the floor. Some would slowly fall on to Davenport’s lap. John found himself almost hypnotized by ritual. Dav’s tears started to slow down, his breathing getting more even. When there was only three petals left on the flower, John could see that the gnome’s hands were stable again. He ripped the last petals of together, looking at them for a moment, before blowing them away from his hands. He sniffed his nose and let his body go limp,slamming his back to the sofa again.

John stood up. Since his flower plan had worked at least to some degree, maybe tea could also do them some good. And he had been aching for that cup for a while either way.

The water was not boiling anymore, but still warm enough for tea. He carefully poured the water in to two mugs. For Dav he had picked the one mug Kravitz had given him. Not really caring at this point, John grabbed the first teabags he could find. It was chamomile.

The living room floor was a mess. Last time it had been this covered with flowers was when Taako had brought his cat to visit. It had gotten scared of John and knocked every flowerpot to the floor. Taako might have knocked a few pots down himself. You know, elves. It had been a mess, but Taako had quickly cleaned everything with a spell. Davenport didn’t really feel like burning a spell slot right now, even if he could. He could need those spells later.

John whistled quietly, to alert Dav of his presence. He didn’t want to scare him any more than he had to. He sat down first, looked at Dav and only after the gnome offered his hands, he gave him the teacup. Davenport tried to cool his tea by blowing in to it quietly. John just concentrated on trying to warm his hands. His right hand was worse, ring finger and little finger completely blackened. It would fade soon enough, leaving behind maybe a bruise or a two. It still bothered him. When cracked, it became harder to feel anything with them.

He looked over at Dav. In similar fashion he had started to nurture the cup of hot water with leaves. Making sense of his expression was hard. But John decided to take a risk.

“Wanna talk?”

Dav didn’t look up.

“You don’t have to. Just in my plane, there used to be saying that if you have a nightmare, and you talk about it, it won’t come back again”, John tried to smile, but quickly dropped it, seeing the furrowed brows of Dav.

“ It was just a dumb nightmare”, Dav murmured and took a sip of the tea. For a while they were quiet again. Dav’s tail started to draw those similar circles on the sofa. John took in a deep breath. This night was already a mess, so why not?

“Was the nightmare about me?”

Dav pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“John, no, please it was-”

“ Was it about the Hunger?”

Dav’s eyes quickly glanced away from John.

“Davenport, please.”

“Yes it was about the Hunger, but that does not mean-”

“So it was about me”, John sighed and took a long sip of his tea. Davenport’s tail started to tamp the edge of the sofa annoyed and a bit defeated.

“I know you are not the Hunger, John. You are a separate entity, nothing good will come from blaming you. It’s just… hard sometimes”, the gnome put the half empty cup on the floor and hugged his knees.

“I won’t blame you if you do that, Dav”, John laughed slightly. He lowered his gaze to his hands, where the cracks were slowly starting to heal. The silence was there, but John understood why it was maybe needed. He had wanted to talk about this for a while. Maybe he could have waited for the peacemaker to be there, but he wanted to try. Worst case scenario, Dav would kill him, he guessed.

“ I am sorry I ruined your sleep. Or have been ruining for a while I guess”, John breathed out and drank the last of the tea.

“As I said. Not your fault”, Davenport repeated. He wiped off the last of the tears from his face, and turned to John.

“Gods this is hard.”

“I am so sorry Davenport.”

Had he ever even apologized to him like this? The day Merle had found him washed up on the beach was still a bit of a blur to him. But he did remember that Merle and Davenport had had a long talk about the situation. But things had been okay, had they? Well, now the words had left his mouth. He hoped Davenport realized how much he meant them.

“I, I don’t know if I can forgive you for, everything. But I also do realize that… that you are not the Hunger anymore. And Merle loves you. Like, holy fuck he likes you”, Davenport laughed the last words. A smile crept on John’s face too.

“I don’t have a problem with you living here. I have no problem, living with you like this. But… letting go of the past… it will take time. I hope you understand”, the gnome’s voice went back to his usual serious tone, as he started at John. He nodded, looking at the hunger mug in his hands. If there was one person who deserved to remember the past, it was Davenport.

“What even are we John? Tell me. Enemies who live under the same roof? Two guys who just share a husband? Stepdads to Mavis and Mookie? Roommates???”

“Oh my god, we are roommates”, John whispered in realization.

Davenport burst out laughing. His laugh was beautiful and strong, bringing life into the silent and empty house. John also found himself laughing about the idea of him and Dav being nothing more than two guys sharing an apartment.

“Well, if we are roommates, I think it would do good, if we introduced ourselves properly”, Dav said and offered his hand to John. John gripped the hand with a smile.

“Hello. My name is Davenport, but Dav works just fine. My favorite flowers are sunflowers and I love the sea. I happen to be your husband’s husband”, Dav introduced himself, shaking hands with John.

“Hi.You can call me John. Taako still calls me Voreman, but honestly, John is better. I also happen to fancy this dwarf we both call our husband. I don’t have the best relationship with the sea, but just like with everything now, I am willing to give it a second try”, John said, with a smile.

“That is very valid of you”, Davenport chuckled.

***

After couple more cups of tea, Davenport started to feel sleepy again. John was still gushing about some favorite food from his home planet. A gnome’s yawns are kind of a cat’s. Very hard to ignore, if only for the chance to see the possible blep at the end. John also had noticed how hiss eyes had started to grow drowsy. He collected the cups from the floor and walked to the kitchen. He would wash them in the morning. When he returned to the living room he saw Davenport’s tail drag in the stairs as he had started to climb towards to the bedrooms. John took a quick glance at the grandfather clock in their hallway. Almost two a.m. John decided to follow Dav to upstairs.

Dav had already gone and lit up the light in the bedroom, when John walked past it. A crack from the door lit almost the whole floor with it’s yellow, warm light.

“John?” He could hear Dav mumble as he walked past the door. He quickly took a couple of steps backwards and peaked to the room. Dav was sitting at the edge of the bed, undoing a braid in his hair.

“Yes, Dav?” John asked, a bit curious about the situation.

“Look, I know what I said about like, things needing to take time. But… I really need someone right now. To like just, be here?” Dav whispered, almost embarrassed a little. John got the message, sure, but he was still a bit taken aback by the gnome’s request. I guess they were going to snooze the night away in the same bed.

John took off his shirt and sat down on the other edge of the bed. It was so weird. There was no usual dip of the bed Merle made when he slept in the middle. Now there was just an empty space. John tried his best not to look at it. This all was still very awkward. He could hear Davenport finishing the unbraiding of his hair. He always said that sleeping with his hair open was better, contrary to Merle, who would wake up every morning with the usual messy bun still on his hair. The gnome quickly lifted the covers and pressed his head to the pillow.

“Are you going to sleep at all?” Davenport asked, just the slightest tone of worry in his voice. John slowly laid down on the soft bed. Davenport had stolen the grey woolen blanket on his side of the bed. It was okay, there was still the blue, longer on e that could actually cover John’s toes. The gnome had turned his back on him. John was not really surprised. One step at the time, he reminded himself. And the steps could be slow. But in the end, time was one thing he really didn’t have any shortage of. He yawned, and stretched his hands, before placing them behind his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for tomorrow to come soon, and for Merle to be here. Things were always so much easier when Merle was there. And the bed was warmer.

***

“John?”

John opened his eyes slightly, seeing Davenport’s eyes glowing slightly it the light of the nightlight he had left on. He had now turned to sleep on his stomach, face towards John.

“I’m still awake, don’t worry”, John whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“This is dumb but… could I hold your hand? It could help me get some sleep sooner, and I mean you don’t have to, I can go sleep in the guestroom-”, Davenport mumbled, shyly offering his paw towards John. He hesitated for a moment. Fearing that touching the hand would break the gnome down again. But when Davenport gave him a small, encouraging smile, John grabbed the hand. Lightly, but firm enough for Dav to know that someone was there.