#I love gravity falls so much man this series is so peak

[kotoskies]

MAJOR BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS

bro what is this guys problem

[popculturebuffet]

The Book of Bill Review: Bye Everyone He'll Remember You All in Therapy (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all you happy people and man it's good to be back. After a week's vacation i'm recharged and ready to plunge back into reviewing stuff. For those of you new here i'm Jake, I review various media , mostly cartoons and comics.

Over a week off filled with batman, persona 5, more batman, Truthful Timmy the Blowjob Queen of Saskatoon, and more, I picked up a certain book since my money dropped: Yes folks thanks to a generous friend who also enjoyed the hell out of this book it's time to talk about mildly curesed new york times #1 bestseller The Book of Bill.

The Book of Bill is the latest in something Disney has been doing for a while, some of the only merch they really make for their telveision animation series: Journals! Specifically books following a character from the show in the first person and helping drop some juicy lore. I naturally have all three previous major ones: Journal 3, The Big Book of Spell and Marcy's Journal. There was also one for Ducktales I need to get at some point and an early Star Vs book, but these big three are the important ones, making real books from the show canon and not only being cool props to own, but also nice bits of canon after the show ended. Or in star vs case as the show slowly burst into flames.

Book of Bill continues that trend yet also breaks it: This book is coming out 8 years after the series ended, is an entirely new creation, and is geared towards adults even having a warning label. Granted it's more a pg-13 than the hard r said warning label implies but the fact disney is acknowledging a product from less than 15 to 20 years ago has nostalgic fans is a victory in itself.

And said victory was followed by an even bigger one with the book recently topping the New York Times bestseller list, even topping "we gotta see what that couchfucker is about just in case". This is a huge victory lap that makes me hope we'll get even more content from various disney shows in book form. At the very least it makes the owl house art book an even easier sell and at most i'm hoping Owl House gets more content now, and I wouldn't say no to Hirsch returning to gravity falls if he has another idea. While i'm used enough to Disney's bullshit to see them ignoring this obvious sign, it could really get them to take kids content from this era more seriously or at least try to get it's creators back to get more of that sweet dollar dollar bill ciphers ya'll. Either way this could be a great thing.

Even if it dosen't lead to more books, Book of Bill is great on it's own and something i'm happy to dive into. And since I know it's harder to get the book outside of the us this is also a chance for those of you outside it to get a peak inside. So let's begin as tonight it's gonna get weird.

Book of Bill is diffrent from the other books in that while it follows a narrative, the first half is mostly just bill shenanigans while the second gives us his history from when he was a baby boy baby to he and Ford's messy breakup involving live snakes, it's a small world and jars of spiders.

It works perfectly too: I forgot how much fun bill was till he burst through the page to greet me

Like bill himself the book deftly ballances comedy and horror. Like gravity falls it leans more to the former, as most of bills antics are just him being unsettling and charming as always, but we get plenty of truly disturbing stuff from his collection of heads to a mouth suddnely popping up demanding blood to this lovely bit showing all the many realities where the pines kids didn't exactly win

Also yeah, outside of Bill's fate, the book dosen't move past where Gravity Falls was on the timeline in the extended Disney Television Universe. It does firmly confirm it's all one universe as we get some refrences to owl house with some tapestry showing off the titan and my boy

As well as a cameo we'll get to later. But it's clear Hirsch, for now has no plans to tell us what happened to errybody after the show aside from bill himself and honestly? That's fine. I'd rather he did a full revivial or book about it at some point than drop it in here and before the nightmare fuel sets in the sleep image of the two on the bus with waddles is adorable.

Back on point the book will hit you with horror well but is maily just a non stop parade of good jokes for the first half. The framing device is simple: Bill created this book and Ford found it shortly before he and Stan went off to make movies, make songs and fight around the world. He tried destroying it but befitting spooky books it kept coming back and so he put in an ash williams style warning telling the reader for the love of god don't read more. And like that idiot from evil dead 2013, I didn't listen and pressed on as i'm sure any of you who got the book did too. I mean we already paid our 20 some dollary doos right?

So the book has bill giving the reader advice, trying to trick them and general other wacky nonsense. This book is DENSE with jokes, and there was hardly a page that wasn't meant to be truly horrifying that didn't have one on it. And sometimes even them. Highlights for me from the first half include his self interview where he deflects being phineas' father, dating a howling void and other hot goss, his entire chapter on silly straws (if you murder someone with one it becomes a serious straw), his having you murder an elf for him, dividing a number and brutally murdering it, and Ford claming he'll tell you how to turn ducks into nuclear bombs.. with Bill doing that immediately after and likely being fully aware of what he was doing.

My faviorite bits are him fleshing out his "reality is a hologram" statment

Every bit of this joke works from me from the reveal, to perfectly nailing the classic pokemon trading card style for this gag. Good stuff. Also not sure why the multiverse has only 50 hp, better not to ask.

The other bit I love the most is bill trying to help the readers love life with advice so good it got this book classified as advice

And helping the love cage with some wonderful bilintines

I"m sending I don't want to die alone to my next crush!

This section really is just a vehicle for jokes and general bill chaos for the most part and it does so gloriously. If you liked bill, your gonna love this thing and if you love him.. he'll never love you back but you'll still enjoy this.

The first half does have a few little pitterpats of lore. One of the biggest.. is that we get more dipcifica

Also Dipper's search history as a whole and while some parts I'd rather forget if my brain would let me, there's a lot of good gags here. But yeah Pacifica Northwest Pagent Video. man is crushing. And also mildly creepy but it's still a step up from looking up Wendy's instagram and other things i'd rather not get into because

This segment goes into the casts dreams, most in depthly Dipper, Mabel and McGucket. That last one is just a really hautning page of how much of a tornado his mind is ... bill BARELY got out. Dipper is naturally bill laughing at his embarassment and revealing he put a bunch of fake author images in his head for funzies.

Mabel on the other hand is one of the funniest segments in the entire book as well as revealing exactly HOW he concoted the scheme. A nice thing we get , and that explains why he gave her her own fifedome.. is that bill actually likes mabel as a person. he likes her chaos, loves watching her dreams which is creepy but for him is about as close to kind as he can get. Problem is he went in AFTER the whole Sock Opera mess, so she hates him. Thankfully the people guarding her dreams are Xyler and Kraz, nature's perfect himbos. So he simply gives himself a hat and blonde hair, a neat jacket and the name chill cipher and gets them on board by eating his skateboard. And to his horror has to do a montage from saying no to drugs to teaching a dinosaur with shades to beleivie in himselef. Just imainging bill doing an over the top 80s montage while having the most pissed off uncomfortable look in the world.. it's going to help me sleep at night.

We also find out he found Mable's deepst darkest fantasy... a tape of Mariah Carrey's fantasy.

It's a genuinely good gag and bill finds out from them how down in the dumps she are, her wanting to let summer last etc.. and thus you can thank these himbos for the apocalypse.

Otherwise the only other little tidbits are in a bit on various dreams. We find out Ford is in love with logic (Bill quips he'd be a plansexual which.. accurate), Soos wants to change his name to pins, and Pacifica.. is suffering horrible ptsd. The big bit though is that dipper walked in on a conversation between his parents about something he wouldn't hear and Bill implies it was why they sent them away. It COULD be divorce, it could be somethign else entirely it's honestly hard to tell given both how little we get and the fact it's bill. Bill's about as trustworth as a snake wearing a top hat

On second thought make that Snake mayor stat.. then god emperor.

But yeah you can't really TRUST bill but it's a nice little seed of info nonetheless and it'd be weird if I didn't talk about it. That said I don't have much to say about it. The kids parents MIGHT have had a rough marraige though that would make sense why they cling to each other so much and make Mable's desperation to keep her brother around even more heartbreaking, so i'm all for it.

So then we get to that sweet juicy lore we woudln't stop bugging Alex for: Bill's history. And this may be my faviorite part of the book simply because there's a LOT of good gags and great visuals tucked in here. A crapton of artists who were VERY good at making something look real enough, as well as GF Vetran Emmy Ciecerga who drew all the gravity falls style art for this book and deserves a LOT of credit, make this book look gorgeous. There's all kinds of styles, from 20's newsclippings to photos to disturbing bill images, all of which needed a great graphic design to it. While none of the books so far are slouches in graphics, journal three itself looked gorgeous, this is far and way the best looking of them so far. Since it's bill their not constrained to one style, like marcy's was mimicking her art style (And later Anne's for her third of the book), journal 3 was. Book of Spells has come closest having each queen have a unique style but it still held to star vs.

This being bill this book goes all over the place: you've got brain teasers, photos, photoshopped nightmarish heads, a reaslitic mouth wanting your blood, all kinds of visual trickery that fits what a visually gorgeous nightmare bill could be. Like the other style, a very chaotic style that oscelates from people magazine to several pages of the great gatsby to punish you for wanting to know his weaknesses (get gatsby'd sucker!) all without breaking a sweat.

The history of bill section is where it really gets to shine once he gets to earth.. but before that.. we adress the elephant in the room. What happened to his home dimension?

Yeah one of the biggest bits of narrative blue balls of book of bill is we don't learn hardly anything about the second dimension and learn NOTHING about how it actually died. Both make perfect sense enough narratively to work and it's clear Alex, while great about answering the shows bigger and more importnat mysteries and not just jerking the audience about, does like to keep some things a mystery. The kids parents, shermy pines, why was thor crying that kind of stuff. While I WANTED an answer for my own works, I respect that it honestly worked better to not get one. We get just enough: bill climas to have been well loved by all in the way a flashback would show he wasn't, having seen the third dimension. It adds layers to him and ford's later friendship: both were outcasts with no one at one point or another. But Stanford at least had stan for a while before he was a dick about things.. bill seemingly had no one and is active denial he was hated and feared.

So he tried to merge dimensions.. and we have no idea exactly WHAT happened.. but not knowing.. is more horrifying. Bill tries to retell it but blacks out

It's very clear Bill has ptsd.. and somehow used urkel to kill people. I feared this day would come but never thought such a dread weapon would wind up in the worst hands imaginable.

It's a great section and I honestly like this... it makes the clear bait and switch work as alex knew what we wanted.. but gave us something more fitting the character.. the one moment bill GENINELY regrets.. but due to eons of lying to himself can't admit. He twisted the narrative to be that he freed a bunch of squares when really it was his first mass murder and the only one he clearly still feels bad about. While he was likely always a tad weird, this event is what snapped him into the monster he is, convicning himself their better this way and he did the right thing instead of truly dealing with his guilt. Bill has lied to himself so much he blacks out when even thinking abotu the truth because if he really thought abotu what he did and what happened, he'd have to rethink his whole sense of self. And Bill can't do that because he's built his whole self worth into his ego after this. That he was specail they just didn't get it and it's to the point he can't even be honest that he wasn't liked> he always had ot be great and special. It's honestly.. sad more than anything. That had bill not done this or simply not made what seems like an honest mistake just not to be alone he may of simply been able to escape and find kinship in ways that didn't involve gaslighting and evil overlord ship.

Sadly he did so we find out he found the nightmare dimension , conquered ita nd slowly gathered his henchmaniacas. We find out little btis; 8 ball has a crush on pyronica, pyronica wants to fuck smokey the bear for the sick thrill of pulling it off

A

Teeth is more a team pet.. all stuff i'm glad we have simply because the henchmaniacs never got fleshed out. Pyronica also has a phd. Bill also has a lawyer named dan crabbleman he uses as a scapecrab because of course. His version of peter I suppose.

Eventually though the good times stopped; While they had nightmare dimension prom (death toll 300), it ultimately was found the dimensionw as dying and we find out HOW bill ended up here and why he hates the time baby so much. .

Now granted the section with the time baby, only a few pages.. didn't do much for me. I've never really been a fan of the time baby: he comes off at least a touch evil, if less here since ANYONE comes off less evil when compared to bill, and the only joke they seem to have is he acts like a baby but is an elder god or something. He's one of the weaker weridos our heroes encountered.

Thankfully bill defeats him and the dinsoaurs would rebound eventually

And we'd only have to deal with time baby a few times after this before Bill kills him

So we then find out why Bill was spread about history. Turns out, not suprisingly, he landed in gravity falls which was perfect for his nonsense. In 30 Million BC he found a small tribe and befriended it's local shaman.. then kinda killed that good will when his first portal created the bottomless hole, let loose sea monsters and killed a lot of people.

This is also where something clever about the book comes about, something I hadn't noticed in the show till Bill's history made it clear: While Bill CAN manipulate a person fairly well he has a huge weakness besides tin foil or techno: He dosen't care enough to hide how unhinged he is. Bill by this point in the story, after eons of self denial and surrounding himself with people who either enable him or he tortured until they enabled him presumably, simply can't grasp that maybe giving a kid deer teeth or a head that's always scremaing isn't the way to make a good first or second impression.

And those moments from the show did set this up well: i'd always assumed he did that shit because it was fun. See the "Your insane!" "Sure I am what's your point?" exchange that's the second thing he ever says. But now I get it's .. well still part that, Bill likes fucking with people.. but it's also that he can't turn OFF his need to fuck with people. Even in this very book instead of giving genuine if shallow love advice he wants you to lock someone in a love cage or become johnny cobra arms. And I mean the second one is sound advice if you've got sufficent padding or a venom immunity, who dosen't want cobra arms, but this book really hammers home that Bill , while good at praying on people's desperation... is REALLY bad at actually keeping them on the hook unless their already as mad as he is or their desperate. He has one exception in ford but as this book, journal 3 and the series all establish.. Ford is also weird, dosen't really get people or social norms. Not saying all societal norms are good.. but maybe don't give your grandaughter a gun Sixer.

It dosen't detract from Bill's threat, as Ford comes to horrifying conclude later... no one actually BEAT bill pemrenantly. The shaman simply banished him and gave out the prophcey for the finale.. a prophecy that ended up not working. Bill constnatly gets shooed away or bribed by people to please shoo, shoo good sir shoo.. but it's not till stan after centuries of work on earth that someone actually BEAT him.

But it does humanize him, even if calling him human is not even a stretch it's just innacurate, but it's the term we got: Bill's ultimate weakness isn't his ego or collection of sily straws: it's that he simply CAN'T stop being him long enough for someone to actually buy into his shit. He actually had the founding fathers listneing.. until he called martha washington hot lips. He nearly gets the US Government to get him to the president.. but can't reissit talking about how fun it'd be to set all the nukes off at once. He makes a truly fun looking silly siphonies style cartoon.. but then it's time to relase the bees

Bill for better and for worse can't help but be himself. his schemes usually drive people to madness or away. He's good at preying on people's desperations and it ultimately needed him his three days of weirdmageddon.. but but he's not good at pulling the long con and only managed it once in his long career.

Thankfully while the book has plenty of great failures from bill from his computer to his do wop group the cipher tones (And the insuing country music backlash record calling him the devil. Please the devil threw him out because living with him is like living in a living nightmare).

There's a few slightly meatier episodes: There's his days in the dark ages.. and one of the few times someone actually got the better of him: he seemingly cons a dark wizard into joining him, sending some knights on a fetch quest to get his copy of monty python and the holy grail. How Disney got away with using the full title I have no idea but they did. God I hope it's not the same copy I have. Turns out though said wizard pulled a sandman and trapped him in a glass orb somehow woven with unicorn hair. Granted it does lead to bill goign on a rampage the second he's free but said rampage gets him banned from Europe so we'll call this one a draw.

The other is the anti cipheretes, a turn of the century group that means well and is engaging.. but sadly tried to preent their findings publicly and their leaders gets intionalized. It's honestly sad.. all this guy wanted was bill out of his head and they lost.

There's also said Silly Symphonies detour where the walt disney expy uses it's a small world (not named directly but barley disguised) to drive bill out.

It's another fun section, filling things in and letting bill fuck with history. He even gets a genuinely heroic moment

Yeah Bill deals with the puritans.. and they piss him off something bad, their lack of imagination making most useless to him, their society being horrifcally stuffy even by the cipher standard of "Stuffy assholes won't let me fill a theater with bees. Charlitans", so he helps an abused local housewive used as a footstool discover what laughter is and soon forms a coven. Said coven inacts a bloody coup, sure.. but it was puritan times, this is the only way a feminism could happen.

We then get the penultimate chapter in our story: At this point it's the 80's, do a lot of coke and vote for ronald regan and bill.. is at the end of his rope. His last scheme is easily one of my faviorites...

I know disney won't because they hate merch but I genuinely hoope a fan recreates these to own. Even the 3d model used here would be appricated for printing.

But then... fate threw bill a bone: he started laughing. Uncontrollably.. lights turned yellow his image was on every computer and breakfast cereal... someone.. opened up gravity falls again.

This is where Ford comes in: In a clever twist the next bulk is from Ford's perspective, with Bill having somehow found pages ford torn out. This is great for two reasons: the first is that it allows us to see their story more on the ground.. and the second is it's a resonable explination why pages that would've defintely told dipper who the author was were missing: Bill points out Ford tore them out due to his own shame and vanity. The former was on display in the last mablecorn, with him not telling dipper and only not getting mindwipped because the horrifying experinces recounted in those pages made him get a plate in his head. The second was in the book: Ford's biggest weakness and one Bill fully took advantage of.. was his ego. Ford thinks a LOT of himself and while he is impressive, it's his need to be seen, to be recognized after being ostrachized most of his life that makes him easy to play like a fiddle before bill and made him stubborn and dangerous after.

Ford can't admit he was wrong and had he left that vunerablity in there the show might of gone diffrently and weirdmageddon probably woudln't of happened.

It also covers in the one gap the journal glaringly left out, but again for plot reasons: that winter Ford was at his cabin. It's a geninely touching story: Ford feels lonely, and bad that he didn't get fiddleford anything before McGucket goes to see his wife back home, and spotted dipper and mable's footprints.. and ends up kidnapped by the krampus and having to rescue a bunch of children because of where he lives. What's heartwaring is fiddleford returns.. and while he fucked up his relationship by forgetting to get her a present, though the shippers certainly got one with this story arc, Ford decorates the portal to cheer him up.

The bulk though is about Bill and Ford: While Fiddleford IS his friend, he's gone a lot because he you know has a life. We see a side we didn't really see too much in the journal but makes sense: Lonliness. Ford is just too dang weird and awkward to be around people, can relate and bill takes full advantage of that. We get to see bill play full on manipulative boyfriend as he preys on Ford's ego, need to not be alone and subtly tries to isolate him when stan comes up and after the heartwarming moment above. It's neat to see just how things went wrong, how Ford got played by bill. Like I said Bill can't hide who he is.. but it works here as Ford dosen't get people so while creepy as hell, Bill leaving a giant pile of dead rats in his name for his brithday and getting him karoke drunk is not a red flag. You also get the sense that while bill isn't remotely a good friend, person or triangle, Bill WAS fond of ford, he genuinely liked the guy and gets shitfaced when eh dosen't on "i'm totally fine juice" and crashes an interdimensional mexican restraunt. Also props to alex I didn't know I needed to see Ford and Bill hammered on seperate occaions but here we are.

Naturally it goes south and the post breakup is easily the most serious part of the book. There's still some great jokes, but it shows how horrifying bill can be. His first actions are, after Ford installs his lab's retinal scanner to keep bill out (since the pupil thing isn't just stylistic, it really happens), he beats the poor guys knuckles bloody trying to claw his way out. He revivies Zombies to stop ford at the mourge as it turns out he can control ANYTHING with a brain. That does lead to a really awesome moment I didn't see coming as Ford admits he's missing him.. but his aim is getting better

Yes they called back to THAT of all things.

It's then things get terrifying: Bill starts writing on ford's post it notes, taking his body at intevals since Ford let him in.. and it's something I just never thought of: while we saw what he could do to dipper, we knew it was a bad idea and he was able to get him out pretty quickly. This segment.. shows what happens when bill can come and go as he pleases. Fordapparenly would just pass out for a second and wake pu with notes.. and when Bill got tired of the post it note tag.. he went a bit further with what's easily my faviorite joke of the whole book

It's just so bill. Grante did' be terrified and probably dead from such a stunt, but it's still just.. so damn perfect.

Ford gets him back with it's a small world after all.. only for us to get to the most unsettlign portion of the book. Ford wakes up on the roof and finds bill left a tape. And while a portion of bills shenanigans, memoralized with polaroid are just hilaroius, like slapping a cop or getting a baby girl tatoo.. we also get shit like eating a jar of spiders (And as an arachnophobe the sentence I keep coughing up siders is.. a lot for me ) and hammering his own hand. We'd seen this kind of shit with Dipper.. but this is what he'd do when he dosen't necessarily NEED the body for himself.

The lowest though is Bill.. trying to call stan. And trigger warning for his next image as it's ... pretty fucking rough.

Yes Bill.. nearly sent a suicide note to stan over the phone in ford's name. It's only sheer luck and likely some lawsuits that saved it but it just hits so hard. Even as much as Ford hates stan.. he dosen't want this and is truly terrified. It strips away the wacky nonsense of bill and gets right to the point: bill is gaslighting and abusing ford, even making him forget his own name for a second, until he gets what he wants. The earlier parts showed him playing the more manipulative roll of abuser but now.. we see what happens when bill goes full on petty and vindictive and there's nothing humorous about it.

Thankfully ford got the plate in his head, he called stan, you know the rest.

It's here the book reaches it's climax: Ford contacts the reader again.. but in a nice bit while he begged them before.. he can't blame them. THe post weridmageddon character development shown in journal 3 stuck: he was where they were. Not only that while he hid the book from his family they found it and instead of turning all into bills.. they just laughed. They'd all grown enough to just find his attempts at playing them funny. They all took his embarssing past in stride. As Stan perfectly puts it "So you messed up a bunch. Guess that really makes you a pines". Stan of all people has EVERY reason to never let ford live this down.. yet does because he gets it. Everyone fucks up and it helps Ford see he's human.. and so's bill. Well again eh's a triangle man but he's ultimately as Ford puts it "A sad theater kid desperate for attention". This book isn't some grand demonic tone: it's the sad last effort of someone who already lost.

We get some fun letters from each pines: dipper and mabel both encourage the reader, and Mabel, even if she threatens to fucking murder bill if he goes after her brother again.. even offers Bill tips on getting over ford. Dipper sympathizes with the reader and also threatens to murder him. And stan.. well stand does what he does best.. promote the mystery shack. Yes even when he's not the owner he can't help plug it. But he also gives bill the biggest kick to the nuts of all: he dosen't care. He hasn't had the personal trauma the others have and just sees bill as another werido trying to steal his wallet like every other thursday in this town. Stan Pines murdered one of the greatest villians in history.. and he somehow tops that by not even carring.

We get Bill screaming STANNNLEEEYYY again, having been beaten and the reader convinced not to swap places with bill. Not only that Stan and co also figured out something important: If bill isn't dead but IS trying to escape.. where he is cant be good.

And we finally find out what happened to him. Which is a mild suprise as while it's VERY nice we found out, as seen in the rest of the book alex is keen to keep some secrets close to the chest. He teased at bill's possible return: the statue in the finale, the axotitl he invokes showing up in a non canon choose your own adventure story, that sort of thing... but it wasn't guarnateed going into this book we'd learn. Thankfully Alex, as ever knows when to not tell us stuff and when it'd be a real dick move not to and not in a funny way.

Bill made a deal with the axitotl to reincarnate. For those less familiar, all two of you the axitotl is some mysterious god taking the shape of that adorable creature whose as kind and benevolent as that sounds and even gave BILL a second chance.

He isn't, thankfully stupid.. and thus after a lifetime of lopsided deals.. just like with Stan moments before making this one.. Bill gets hit with a bad one. And the thing is unlike Stan who just flat out tricked Bill like Bill played so many people, the Axitotl didn't lie: it told bill he'd have to repent. It was bill's own ego that assumed he could scheme his way out

Instead bill is now inside the Theraprism, a maximum security dimensional prison that takes all commers and is filled with sterotypical therapy activites like arts and craft and constant group sessions. And while a tad unsettling it's honestly.. nicer a fate than I expected. It's still pure hell for bill.. but the place isn't EVIL. it geninely wants to help it's patients, even the worst people imaginable and while there's things like a sensory deprevation void, it's clearly because this place is essentially arkham asylym but ran compitently and with actual care towards ehabilitation. To let those who genuinely repent reincarnate.. granted there are options like "cloud of spore sor a butterfly" but I get that maybe Freddy Kruger dose'nt need to come back as a wolverine and possibly maul faces. Let him get a chance at that third time around.

But for Bill.. a place to self reflect, heal and come back as something powerful.. as hell. There's no ESCAPE: whatever's running this place is clearly powerful enough to hold fucking BILL down. Darcy's helmet is there too in a nice little cameo and I wouldn't be suprised if every dead disney villian deemed enough of a threat was here. Honestly making Bill and Belos room together is the punishment they deserve. or belos does, Bill would get a kick out of having someone to torment so maybe just let him do it in moderatoin. As a treat if he participates in group.

It's Bill.. trapped in his own personal hell... a place he can't escape through manipulation, surrounded by people he dosen't respect, with the only way out being self reflection and a cursed arts and craft project that was quickly confiscated before it coudl take the reader. Bill's fate was already great in the show.. but this improves on it> Bil got conned twice and is trapped in a hell he could easily escape but never will because he just.. can't grow. He won't. He refuses to. His ego can't take it. So all that's left in the book is bill pathetically whimpering that SOMEONE wil lcome from him.. but with his henchmaniacs thinking he's dead and having spent his life burning bridges.. no one ever will.

This book is amazing. Read it if you can. A truly great little followup that fills in some gaps, is packed densely with jokes, has some really effective horror and has a truly amazing ending. Check it out if you haven't and if you can.

Thanks for reading

[ordinaryschmuck]

Good things that happened to me today:

I finally watched the new My Adventures with Superman. Loved it. Loved what they're doing with Supergirl and Brainiac and the shout outs to the Green Lantern Corp and Hawkgirl's people were pretty great. What I love most is that it didn't clue in that it was a Hawk person until I saw the wings and talons and I went "Oh, yeah, that's them. Pretty cool."

I finally watched "A Quiet Place Part II." I didn't like it as much as the first movie, but it was still pretty good with some pretty badass moments. It peaked at the opening set piece where we see the first day of the invasion. And if that's all A Quiet Place: Day One is going to be, just longer, than I can tell it's gonna be an intense movie.

I found out that my downstairs neighbor takes packages that are left outside our building and puts them inside so they don't get rained on. Most packages, especially ones from Amazon, are just left outside the door and to the elements and he just takes them and puts them right back inside to solve that issue. It's nice of him and it was cool to find out that he did this little generous thing for the people in a building he likely never interacts with.

I had a small randomized marathon today, featuring randomized episodes of The Owl House, Amphibia, Gravity Falls, and now DUCKTALES (2017), which is now decided from a poll I ran to be the FOURTH good modern Disney cartoon. And there was a lot more DuckTales than any of the other three, though. But I'm not complaining. Out of all of them, I rewatched DuckTales the least. In fact, I think I've NEVER rewatched an episode of DuckTales since it aired, and I just got to remember how good that show is with its animation, comedy, solemn moments, voice acting, and expressions. And when watching "The Shadow War," I got to remember just how well this show handles these big finales and when to use which character during these big moments. Man, I need to rewatch that whole series some day...

Got to read some more X-Men comics. Should really lean hard into it one day because these are great characters and a solid team.

Got a little more done with Part Five of "Why I Love The Owl House" review. Didn't do as much as I wanted but I still did what I could and got a good jumping off point for when I continue it tomorrow.

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

A Piece of My Soul

Fandom: The Mentalist or rather the Marcus Pike fandom

Collection/Series: N/A

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN! Artist Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: G

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Lots of fluff, but there’s that undercurrent of angst as the reader has been hurt before and made to feel less than important so if that’s too much right now that’s okay!

Summary: Marcus has always known that you protect your art, that it is a reflection of your soul and something you guard after being hurt one too many times. He never expects you to share your sketchbooks with him, assumes he will never have the honour and he’s okay with that because he’s happy to just have you. Until, one day, you show him just how much you trust him.

Notes: For me, I always feel like when I share my art with people they’re very meh about it or they are backhanded or even mean. I’ve not had the best experiences when sharing my sketchbooks or my work with people in my life and the idea of someone being so wholly awestruck just by the trust and openness of sharing something like that gets me. So here we go back on the Marcus Pike train because if I could ever explain what I want in a husband, he’s the man.

Archiveofourown

Comment and Feedback Form

Taglist Form

Marcus had known of your love of drawing from the first date. You had been a little shy when he’d asked about your hobbies and interests, when you’d quietly and cautiously told him you liked to draw. When he asked for more detail, the mediums you used, the style you preferred, it had opened you up just a little more, his interest making you preen a little. Although still cautious, gauging his reaction to your answers. It had been like seeing a part of your soul that you kept hidden from people, it had made him simultaneously proud and angry. 

Proud because you trusted him, from that first moment, to take you seriously, to listen to your interests and passions and not dismiss them. Angry because at some point, at some time, it was clear someone had dismissed you, made you feel like you weren’t worth listening to, weren’t worth investing time in. It was maddening to think that anyone could make you feel like that, like anyone couldn’t see your worth. 

It was baffling because he found you captivating in all your passions and quirks. The way you ranted and rambled on for minutes, sometimes even hours, about something you were passionate about, never failed to draw him to you like a moth to the proverbial flame. The way you managed to trip over anything and everything, clumsy to a fault, was as endearing as it was concerning and he found himself eager to compensate, to pre-empt you going flying because of a step or a crack in the floor. He found the small things, not just the large things enthralling and enamouring, the concept that anyone might think different was just unfathomable. 

So he worked to cultivate that trust, to show you that he was interested in you and all the things that made you up. He listened when you talked, never told you he was bored or showed a shred of disinterest. He remembered things you mentioned or were interested in, brought you books on the subject or sent you a link to an article he’d seen. 

Watching the way that trust bloomed, the way you opened your heart and soul up to him in little pieces was nothing short of amazing. Still, he knew your art was precious to you, a piece of your soul. Your interests, desires, thoughts, opinions, and preferences are all laid out in pages and pages of thick white paper and red pencil marks. He never pushed it, never asked to see what you were working on or to show him your art, not because he wasn’t interested but because he respected the intimacy of it. You were not some famous painter who put their work on display for the world to see and scrutinise. You were just you, just someone who used art as a form of stress relief and self-expression, someone who guarded their work like they guarded their heart. 

So the little trickles of your soul that you shared with him were enough, it didn’t matter if you showed him it all or only select pieces, anything was enough to tell him you cared, that you trusted him, that you wanted his approval. Not because you needed him to give it, not because he was that fundamental or important, but because recognition from him made you smile, made you feel important. You were important whether he liked your work or not. 

He still remembers the excitement you exuded, happiness blinding and bright and so brilliant, when you’d finished a new painting and bounded to show him. You’d bundled it up safe and made the drive to his house, rushing up the steps so quick, he’d heard you trip before he heard you knock.

You’d been bouncing on the balls of your feet, painting kept within a folder, nondescript, the sort you kept your certificates in. The wide grin on your face, the shine of your teeth, and crinkles at your eyes had him smiling the moment he opened the door to you, leaning a shoulder against the door frame to watch you adoringly. 

“I finished it! It only took me 20 hours but I finally finished it!” You’d rushed inside, pulling him by the arm so fast he had to laugh as he nearly tripped over his own rug. You’d been so excited and so proud as you’d sat him on his couch and carefully pulled the A4 piece of watercolour paper from the folder, plain back to him. 

He’d been patient, watching you with the softest of smiles as your eyes flicked back and forth between him, sat with hands clasped between his thighs, elbows on his knees, and your painting. As you grappled with the gravity of showing him a piece of your soul and not knowing how he’d respond, how he’d behave. Patience was the least he could think to give you, and it had brought the best sort of ache to his chest when you’d shyly turned the painting around to show him. 

20 hours of work and you looked away, eyes focusing on a plant he had in the corner of his living room rather than on his expression or what he might think. You’d been so nervous to show him and he’d taken the time to truly look at your painting. The colours, the composition, the subject, it didn’t ultimately matter to him whether he truly liked it or not, although he did, because he’d love it anyway. He’d love it anyway because you’d chosen to share it with him, when you were oh so private and careful with your art. 

“Sweetheart…” You’d been prepared for rejection, to face the fact that your boyfriend didn’t like your painting, your art, that it was something you just shouldn’t share with him in the future. “It’s amazing! 20 hours? Can I?” He’d gestured to take it, to hold it and get a better look and you’d let him, a little stunned, but overjoyed that he liked it, that he wanted to look at it.

That had been the starting point for you sharing more little bits of your soul with him. You’d bring him finished paintings to look at, occasionally the odd doodle here or there that you completed at work. Not everything, and never your sketchbooks. Those were off limits, something he’d respected because he knew they were more than just a tiny piece of who you were, but quite a large one. Pages and pages of you sat for perusal and to have that rejected would hurt more than anything. So Marcus had been grateful for what little pieces of your art you did choose to share with him. 

He’d always made it a point to show how much he liked your art, to shower you in praise and to make you feel listened to, seen, important. Your art was amazing to him. He was an art history major, he loved art, hence his job, but he wasn’t an artist. He’d never had the patience to sit and develop the skill set and so he focused on the work of others, yours was quickly becoming his favourite. You had your own unique style, something he found hard to describe or explain, but that he’d know if he saw your work. He’s almost certain he’d know if someone tried to pass a fake off as your own and if anyone asked who his favourite artist was he’d probably change his answer to you. 

Still, he had hoped that one day you’d share that last bit of yourself with him. He hadn’t expected to actually happen, just a hope, a little dream, something he thought about at night before falling asleep. 

Certainly not something he expects on date night. 

He’s cooking dinner for the two of you, your favourite main and dessert, because he hasn’t had the chance to see you in a good week due to a hectic case, when he hears the tell tell sound of keys in the front door. He’d long since given you your own, letting you come and go as you please, with the excuse that when he was away on a case it meant you could keep an eye on the place and make sure he didn’t get robbed. In truth he liked having you around, liked that you came over just because you wanted to, that you felt welcome and at home and if he wasn’t so dead set on not scaring you off, he might have already asked you to move in. But, he wanted to take his time, not rush it. 

“Marcus?”

“In the kitchen, honey!” He’s wiping down the side quickly, hiding the fact he’s a messy cook, when you walk in a heavy looking tote bag over one shoulder. It peaks his interest and from the little laugh you let out you can see it on his face. 

“Are you busy?”

“No, it needs a good half hour before I have to check it again, why?” You watch him wipe his hands with a towel and brush at a small stain on his white t-shirt, the one that clings to his arms just right. 

You're nervous, you know he can tell from the way your hands grip the bag straps tight over one shoulder to how you bite your bottom lip. He’s always been able to tell. One of the beautiful things about Marcus was the attention he gave to people, not just people he cared about, but people in general. He learnt everything he could about them, stored it away in his mind, and used it to show them how much he cared, how much he knew them, really knew them. 

“I...I want to show you something.” 

You grab him by the hand, the same way you always do whenever you want to share something, and begin pulling him towards his living room. It’s cosy in here at this time of night, warm light from a couple of lamps, soft blankets thrown over his couch, the ones he’d brought after realising how much you loved a good blanket. It’s a calming thing, to be in here, with him, somewhere you associate with home. 

It often seems so silly to you, just how nervous you get about sharing something with Marcus, but you know it’s not. Know it’s not his fault either. Marcus has never given you any reason to doubt him, but other people have, so you push past the nerves because you do really want to show him and watch his face light up like it always does. 

You sit him down in his seat, and curl up next to him, kicking your shoes off and placing the bag on the ground. He’s so warm and for a moment you just lean into his side, enjoying the warmth of his body and the way he nuzzles a kiss into your temple, nose tracing little lines gently for a moment. He brings you peace and it is that, that gives you resolve and has you reaching down for the items in the bag. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that Marcus places his hands at your waist, worried you might take a tumble off the couch, something you’re prone to. It warms you inside, that he cares so much, that he’s so casual with his affection and so concerned with you and your safety. Even something as simple as making sure he can catch you if you start to fall. 

You come back up with a couple of books in hand, plastered with stickers over the front and a little dogeared at the corners. Marcus doesn’t remove his hands from your waist, just pulls you firmly back against his side and watches as you anxiously smooth your hands over the cover of one of them. 

“I..I wanted to show you my sketchbooks, or well...the two most recent ones anyway. I...I don’t really show people them...but I want you to see them.” Your eyes are so wide and earnest when you look up at him, that he can’t help but cup your cheek in his hand and rub his thumb across the apple of it. God, he never thought...he never thought you would. Always thought you’d keep this little part of yourself private, separate, guarding it like a dragon guards a horde of gold. But, here you are, so earnest, so nervous, so open, telling him that you want to share this piece of your soul with him and he can’t stop himself from pressing his forehead against yours. Can’t stop himself from the gentle nudge of his nose with yours or the slow press of his lips against your own. 

It’s a surprising reaction from Marcus, the way his nose presses into your cheek as he presses a firm but still tender kiss to your lips, the way his hand slides down to cup underneath your jaw, thumb pressing into the hollow there. It’s so surprising that it distracts you for more than a moment, to the point your eyelids take a little bit of time to flutter open after he breaks away, you leaning further into him. 

“What...what was that for?” 

“For trusting me.” He’s so warm and earnest, but still, he’s patient. He doesn’t grab for the books or open them himself, instead he waits for you to pull back and pick one up, settling it between the two of you. 

He waits as you find the courage to open the cover and turn to the first page and every breath leaves him at what he finds there. It is a sketchbook and so it is messy, that’s the nature of it, it is practice and experimentation and you enjoying yourself, and it’s so clear, as each page turns, that this is you in book form. 

Each page is either a confirmation of a fact he already knew about you or a new discovery. It tells him little things like how you prefer to draw certain subjects and the colours you lean towards when you reach for markers or coloured pencils. He’s reverent in the way his fingertips brush the paper and trace over the lines, in awe of the way your hands have worked in tune with your mind to put these things to paper and he can’t actually help the tears that start to well up in his eyes. Because you trust him so much, you’re opening the last part of your soul up to him with only a hope that he will not crush it or throw it back at you, that he will not abuse it. 

“Baby, why are you crying?” You’re so concerned for him, hands pawing at his cheeks, brushing the rivulets away and cupping his jaw to make him look at you. Brown eyes watery but so happy, so in love and he hopes that you can see that, see how desperately he loves you. “Are you okay? Did...did I do something wrong?”

It hurts him so much to know you assume that you’re at fault. That his tears are bad or that they are a product of you doing something wrong, when they’re a result of just how much he loves you and just how happy he is at the trust and faith you have in him, the love you have for him, that you’ll bare your soul. It’s those moments that make him angry at the people before him. Family, friends, lovers, people who took your trust and crushed it, bent it out of shape and tossed it back malformed and damaged. 

“Nooo, no, no, honey. Sweetheart, I'm crying cause I'm happy,” He covers your hands with his own, pulls you impossibly closer, “I’m happy because you trust me enough to show me this and I...I never thought I'd earn that.” 

“Oh...well, I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s said with a laugh, but not at you, the sort of laugh that’s just a bit of a huff of happiness, that comes from being overwhelmingly happy. It’s enough for him that you come to his house, that you share little bits of yourself with him and that you love him enough to do that at all. 

While dinner cooks, you keep an eye on the time more than Marcus, he continues to flick through the pages. He comments, sweet little things. How something looks cool or how he likes the colours on a page. Each comment thrills you, fills you to the brim with pride and joy, to the point your cheeks ache from smiling. Perhaps to some people it seems understated, boring, the sort of date night that some would hate, but to the two of you it’s more than just date night. It’s a bonding experience, a sharing one. He feels impossibly lucky to look at your work, to have you there leaning on his shoulder, pressing kisses to his neck, impossibly lucky to have a piece of your soul right there in front of him. 

It’s that moment that he knows; you’re it for him. He’s certain. You’re the person he’s going to grow old with, with your sketchbooks in a dedicated bookshelf and he’ll die saying his favourite artist is you. 

                                              ------------------------------

                                                 All Works Taglist

@charradelange @belfry-bat  @gabile18 @beccaboo929 

                                               Marcus Pike Taglist

@bdavishiddlesbatch​

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [51]

vi. we will rise

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: angst, language, fighting, death, violence, sad goodbyes,  blood and a v bloody death. 

Summary: an important trip to deliver the last few barrels of hydrazine to becca’s island is met with some unexpected challenges.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

March 20th, 2150; Arkadia (what’s left of it)

It’s late, or early, depending on how you look at it, when Kane pulls you, Bellamy, Clarke, and Monty into the Chancellor’s office for a quick update. “Most of the fire is out, and we’ve salvaged what we can. Monty, I need you to run diagnostics and do a damage check on all of Alpha Station, report back to me in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Griffin girls and Bellamy, I need the three of you to get some rest, because when daylight breaks, I'm sending the three of you out.”

“To do what?”

“Abby radioed. They discovered that Becca went to space to make Nightblood, because the lack of gravity helps everything to bind properly. Becca has a rocket in the lab, and they need all of the hydrazine we have to get that rocket into the air and back down again with the Nightblood solution. I need the three of you to deliver that hydrazine.”

All three of you nod in agreement, and he gives a single resolute nod. “Good. Now get some rest, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“See you then.”

The three of you leave the office in a quiet group, silently walking back towards your rooms. Luckily, your room and Clarke’s are among the ones spared by the fire, though others weren’t so lucky. You feel guilt at the thought of walking back to your room and sleeping in your bed while others can't, but the soreness in your legs and feet prevents you from thinking about it much further. When you reach the junction in the hall that takes you your separate ways, Clarke pulls you into a hug and whispers, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.”

She smiles at you both before turning and heading down the hall towards her room, and Bellamy reaches out for your hand and intertwines your fingers before leading you back to your shared quarters. The smell of smoke lingers in the air, despite sustaining no damage, reminding you of the blow you all received. You trudge into the room, exhausted, and as soon as Bellamy closes the door behind you, the weight of the world comes crashing down on you. Your near death experience, the realization that you’re a killer, the loss of Alpha Station's safety from the death wave, it all weighs down on you, and you drop to your knees. 

The tears are falling from your face before your knees even make contact with the ground, and Bellamy is at your side in a flash. He doesn't say anything as a sob breaks free from your chest, he just pulls you into his arms and rubs comforting circles onto your back as he hums Clair de lune. 

You stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms on the floor of your home, crying for everything that happened today, yesterday, the week before, while on the ground, up in space. You cry until you’re utterly exhausted, slumped over in Bellamy’s grip, ready to fall asleep right then and there. But Bellamy, ever caring, doesn't allow that. He carries you over to the bed and sits you on the edge, before kneeling down in front of you to rid you of your boots. He tosses them to the side, before walking to your storage area and grabbing one of his spare shirts. He comes back to you and pulls off your jacket and then your shirt, before tugging his shirt down and over your head, wrapping you in his comforting scent. Then he gently eases you backwards and shimmies your pants down your legs, leaving you in peak comfort. 

He quickly undresses down to his underwear before sliding into the bed beside you, tucking both of you under the blanket until you’re wrapped inside a cocoon of comfort. He turns until he’s facing you, his mouth lifting at the corners as he takes you in. Despite your swollen eyes and tear stained face, despite the quiet sniffles that slip from you, he whispers, “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. That’s probably the first thing I ever noticed about you.”

Your nose scrunches, disbelieving, “Really?”

“Really. That and your strength. When I saw you in the hallway with Shumway that day, I could tell you were scared, but you didn't let that stop you. You took your fear and turned it into strength, and used it as a weapon against him.”

You feel yourself melt a little, and he reaches up and pushes back the hair around your face. “I’ll always be in awe of the anger you possess. I don't know how so much anger can exist in one person, but even when it was directed at me, I was always in awe of the electric energy that seems to reside within you. And despite having all that anger, you’re one of the kindest people I have ever known. It would be so easy for you to let your anger rule you until you are nothing but sharp edges and harsh words, but you don’t. You manage to see the good in everyone, even when they're trying to kill you.”

You shake your head. “Not with Pike.”

“That’s because he threatened your family, and that's an entirely different story. You’re loyal and fiercely protective over the ones you love. I pity anyone who threatens your family, because I know their outcome isn't favorable. Your kindness sometimes allows you to forgive others more than they may deserve, but that ends when it comes to your family.”

“You’re my family.”

He softens at the words, something unfamiliar to him in the last few years, as his family was torn apart. “And you’re mine.”

You smile at him, and he leans forward slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away to look at you again. “My blainen natshana, my protective spitfire, my love, my forever.”

“I love you, Bellamy Blake.”

“I love you more than the stars, in this lifetime, and in the next.”

“Forever.”

Both of you smile at each other, everything okay for a little while. Because for now, you can ignore the impending doom and the desolation of your home, everything blocked out by the strength of Bellamy’s love. You fall asleep smiling at each other, basking in that warmth, at peace and full of love.

-

Clarke looks at you, a mischievous look on her face, “Put it on.”

You eye the long sleeve top and gray overall dress, the same clothes she wears to school everyday. The clothes you've never been allowed to wear, because you’re not supposed to exist. You stare at your twin, at the missing tooth in the front of her smile, identical to the missing tooth in your own grin. The second Clarke saw the gap in your grin, she messed with her tooth everyday until it was loose enough to pull out, refusing to look any less identical than you do right now. Neither of you know it yet, but as you grow older, you’ll become less and less identical. Enough similarities remain that some people know, right off the bat, and some people only guess because they’ve heard the stories. But right now, in your youth, in the time before anything seems serious, you look like copies of each other. Any differences you have right now are so subtle, no one could tell the difference. 

Which is exactly why Clarke is holding her school clothes out to you. “Just one day, la lune! You’ll get to see the Ark and meet Wells. It’s field trip day today, and we’re going on a tour of the ship, so no one will be paying any attention to you.”

“But then you’ll miss out on the field trip.”

“I’ve seen everything already, but you haven’t. You deserve to see the Ark.”

You eye the clothes again, before taking them from her grip. She gives you a triumphant smile as you dress quickly, and she changes into your clothes as soon as you’re out of them. Then she helps you braid your hair before turning you around to look at the small mirror you share. “I look just like you.”

Clarke laughs, loud and bright, her joy always so infectious. “Of course you do, we’re twins.”

You give her an annoyed look. “I know, but mom and dad can still tell us apart. Maybe this will actually fool them.”

“Stop worrying, this is foolproof.”

You start to counter her argument, but your mom bursts into the room, waving her hand towards you frantically. “Clarke, why aren't you out here, honey? We’re going to be late.”

“Sorry mom.”

You walk towards her, waiting for her to notice that you’re not Clarke, but she never does. She takes your hand when you reach her, and leads you straight through the living room and to the front door. Once you’re out in the hall, her hand doesn't drop yours, and you relish in this small moment with your mother. Something so common for Clarke, because this is a walk they take together everyday, but so rare for you. You turn and look at every surrounding as you walk by, but you stop when your mom tugs on your hand and asks, “What’s wrong with you today?”

You don't get to answer, because a man turns the corner and starts walking down the hall, and your mom stiffens at the sight of him. She freezes in place when he stops in front of her. “Abby.”

“Marcus. Heading to the meeting?”

“Yes. Are you?”

She motions towards you. “I have to drop Clarke off first, and then I’ll be right there. If I’m a little late, start without me.”

“I’ll pass the message along.” The man, Marcus, turns his attention to you. “Clarke, I heard there’s a field trip today, a tour of the Ark and its jobs?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing the Medical Facility, since Abby here says you want to be a doctor.”

“I don’t want to be a doctor.” You pull a face and add, “Besides, I want to see the library.”

Marcus gives you a weird look, and you feel your mother turn towards you sharply, and only then do you realize your mistake. Clarke does want to be a doctor like your mom, and right now, you’re supposed to be Clarke. Your mother gives Marcus a polite smile. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

She pulls you around him, practically dragging you down the hall, until she reaches an abandoned corridor. And then she drops to her knees in front of you, reaching out and tugging the chain from under your shirt, exposing the small moon charm that hangs there. She whispers your name in disbelief, and she is livid as she looks at you. “What are you doing?”

“Clarke said I should get to see the Ark. I just wanted to explore, that’s all.”

Someone walks down the hall, past you and your mother, and your mom eyes them warily before standing and leading you straight back home. As soon as the door is closed behind her, she storms to the bedroom and grabs your twin, pulling up the sleeve on her wrist and exposing her star bracelet. Clarke’s face falls, knowing that you’re both caught, further confirming your mother’s suspicions. She leads you both to the couch and points at it angrily, before whisper yelling, “What were the two of you thinking? Do you know how dangerous it is for the two of you to switch places? We have talked about this before, if anyone finds out that you’re twins, our family will be punished. They will kill me, they will kill your dad, and they lock the two of you up, separating you.”

Your lip starts to quiver, upset that your mother is yelling at you, but horrified at the thought that you would be separated from your twin. Clarke experiences the same horror, because she tugs you into her arms, and starts to cry. “No, no, no, they can't take her from me!”

Your mom looks at Clarke in surprise, as she rarely has emotional outbursts, and she starts to soften, realizing she may have been too hard on the two of you. As you cling onto Clarke and she clings to you, your mother drops down in front of you, and puts a hand on each of your cheeks. “I know that it’s difficult that one of you gets to leave and the other can't. Me and your father try to keep things as even as we can with you two, but one of you will always be the twin that gets to go outside and meet people, and one of you will always be the invisible twin.”

She turns to look at Clarke. “Clarke, I know that you always want to fix things, and make your sister’s life better, but there are some things she won't get to experience, and there are some things you can't fix.”

She turns her gaze towards you. “I’m so sorry that you don't get to experience the world the same way that Clarke does. Maybe your father can figure something out and take you on a tour of the ship. Until then, the two of you need to be there for each other. Share your hardships, and give each other strength when you’re having a hard time, because you’re stronger together.”

“I’m sorry, mommy.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

“I know you are. Now, go switch clothes. Clarke, I want you at that door in two minutes. Don't make me come get you this time.”

-

It’s still early when you wake, the light of the morning barely kissing the horizon, and Bellamy is already awake when you pull your eyes open to the hungry world. You both get ready in quiet contentment, tossing things into your packs and dressing in an easy silence, your words from last night still hanging in the air. When both of you are ready and standing by the door, Bellamy turns to look at you. “If you’re not up for today, I can take the hydrazine by myself.”

You shake your head and press a quick kiss to his lips. “No need, I’m okay.”

He nods before leading you out the door and straight to the Chancellor’s office. You and Bellamy get there before Roan does, but Monty and Kane are already there and waiting when you arrive. As soon as you step in the door, Kane motions the two of you over, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The hydrazine is being loaded now, but before you leave, you need to hear this. Roan sent most of his army back to Polis to keep the peace now that the secret of Praimfaya is out, but on the way there, many have deserted the army and taken to burning Trikru villages to the ground. Your journey today will take you right through some of those territories, and it’ll likely be dangerous.”

You and Bellamy exchange a worried look, but the conversation is stopped from going any further when Roan steps into the room. You nod at each other in greeting, and everyone gathers around the table covered in maps, notes, and schematics, and Kane nods at Monty to begin. “Clarke said to get started without her since I already passed along this update. Sectors, 3, 4, and 5 sustained the worst damage. We lost the server room, all of our processors and life support systems, and half of our living quarters. Now, backup power will keep the lights on at night in the rooms that survived, but we'll have no heat or running water. And no way to restore it or reseal the ship before the radiation gets here.”

You shake your head, the extent of the destruction hitting you hard, despite the things you've had to endure on the Ark, both when it was in the sky and on the ground. You stare at the map of Alpha Station, and the big blocks of red that now cover most of the map, signaling their damage. “Is there any good news?”

Kane sighs, looking up from the same map you’re staring at. “Well, no one died.”

Clarke walks into the room just then, smiling at you in greeting before stopping beside Kane. “Forget the Ark, it was never gonna save us all anyway. We need to focus our resources on the Nightblood solution. Is the fuel loaded?”

Bellamy gives her a serious look. “It's in process, but, Clarke, it isn't gonna be an easy ride.”

“What don't I know?”

You all turn to Roan, knowing that the danger stems from Ice Nation, and he sighs, “With the secret of Praimfaya out, I sent Echo and my army back to Polis to keep the peace.”

“That's good. We need peace to distribute the cure.”

“More than half of them deserted on the way. With the end coming, they want to be home. I don't blame them.”

Bellamy quips, “Do you blame them for burning Trikru villages as they go?”

Roan gives him a sarcastic smile. “That's funny, coming from you.”

“Enough.” Kane looks between the two men, letting them know this is not the time. “We know the woods are a war zone. And after the attack on Ilian this morning, I can't spare many of the guards to protect you.”

Roan shrugs, “My security detail can protect us.”

“Thank you, that's very generous.”

“We are all in this together now.” Roan looks you all over once, before he turns to leave, signaling the end of the meeting. Kane glances between you and Clarke, and asks, “Can I talk to you two?”

You both nod, and you turn your gaze to Bellamy, who smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I'm gonna check on Octavia before we go. I’ll meet you at the truck.”

You nod, and as soon as he clears the room, with Monty right behind him, Kane turns to look between you. “I'm going with you.”

You and Clarke are already disagreeing before he even gets all the words out, both of you shaking your heads to let him know this isn't the right idea. “You can’t.”

“I'm the Chancellor.”

“That's why you can't.” You push the map of Alpha Station, mostly covered in red now, towards him, reminding him. “After everything that happened this morning, our people need you here, now more than ever. I know you're worried about our mother.”

“She's going into space...in a 100 year old rocket. Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong?”

Clarke takes over, more knowledgeable about the discussions from Becca’s Island. “Raven says the rocket's intact. She'd like a little more fuel, but as long as we get her what we've got, she said she'll get them both back down safely. Look, we have to try.”

You reach out and squeeze his arm. “I'll send her your love.”

He smiles at you, nodding in thanks. “Yes, please do that. And I'll make sure there's something left to save...when all of you get home.”

He reaches out and hugs Clarke, who seems surprised by the gesture at first, but eventually hugs him back, finding comfort in him. You watch them with a smile, and he reaches out for you once he pulls away from her. You hug him back just as fiercely as he hugs you, your connection to Kane much deeper than Clarke’s, considering the few near death experiences you’ve both shared. He pulls back and looks at both of you in admiration. “I know your father would be so proud of you both.”

You both smile at him, the mention of your dad making you a little teary eyed. He smiles back, before remembering the time sensitive journey ahead of you, and he motions towards the door. “Go. Radio when you make it.”

“Will do.”

You follow Clarke out the door as she leads you to the mini caravan set up for your journey. She glances at you as you walk that way, before turning to look back in the direction of the Chancellor’s office. “Do you think Kane is good for her? Mom, I mean.”

“I think so.” You think of all the comfort he offered her in the chaos of Pike’s Arkadia. “He’s come a long way since landing down here a few months ago. He’s definitely not the man he was on the Ark.”

“I can definitely agree with that.” She nods to someone in the distance, and you follow her gaze to the Ice Nation King. You still feel a little anger at him for taking you hostage, but it’s overshadowed by the importance of your trip today. Clarke nods towards the vehicles. “We’re going to lead the way in the Rover. You and your men will ride in back with the fuel.”

One of Roan’s men, who is lingering nearby, overhears this and immediately protests. “The King of Azgeda follows no one.”

Roan turns to the man, pacifying him. “It's all right, Seiku. Best we stay out of sight for now.”

He heeds the king’s words and steps away slightly, but his gaze is locked on you and Clarke, eyes hard and angry. You get the distinct feeling that you wouldn't want to cross him in a fight. Before he turns his gaze away from you, he growls, “Wanheda and Wanlida.”

You turn and look at him in confusion, the second time you’ve heard that name, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s a nickname, and it’s been given to you. Based on the tone he said it in, you don't think it's a compliment. You turn to Roan, brows lifting, asking him to translate, but the moment is ended by Bellamy's approach. “It’s time to go.”

You look at him, the tension in his jaw and shoulders, the hurt expression on his face, and you gather his goodbye to Octavia didn't go well. He doesn’t give you time to question him because he continues his stormy walk to the rover, and he is quickly replaced by Monty, who is now jumping out of the truck loaded with the fuel, and headed your way. 

“All set?”

He nods, “Locked and loaded. I do, however, feel the need to reiterate: you're about to drive the last 10 barrels of hydrazine known to man, a cargo which Raven needs every last drop of, through hostile territory, packed with warring clans, over uneven roads, where one serious bump could cause an explosion that would not only kill all of you, but would wipe out mankind's only remaining chance for survival.”

You glare at him. “Comforting.”

Roan muses, “What could possibly go wrong?”

You and Clarke exchange quick goodbyes with Monty before helping to load Roan and his men into the back of the truck with the hydrazine. Before you turn away, Roan grabs your arm and mutters, “Wait.”

You look at him, and he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a knife, situated inside a thigh holster. You smile at it, forgetting that it was in Echo’s possession last, and Roan hands it to you. “Echo said this belongs to you.”

“It does, thank you.”

He nods at you and then releases his hold on your arm before stepping away from you, deeper into the truck. You nod at Clarke and the two of you head to the rover, where she jumps into the back and you jump into the passenger seat. Bellamy turns to you, expression expectant. “Ready?”

“Good to go.”

He starts the rover and directs it towards the camp’s exit, pulling away from your home and leading you towards possible salvation. As he maneuvers through the woods, you watch him closely, not missing the way his hands keep fidgeting on the wheel. Your voice drops low, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible. “Is it Octavia?”

“Keep your eyes on the trees.”

You ignore the attitude in his voice, knowing it’s not meant for you. “She hasn't forgiven you, has she?”

His jaw clenches, answering the question for you, and you glance back at Clarke, remembering the tense relationship you had with your twin when you landed on the ground. “Relationships don't fix themselves overnight. It’ll take time.”

“We don't have much of that left now, do we?” You shrug, knowing he’s right, but also knowing he can't force Octavia’s forgiveness. You open your mouth to share that with him, but the thought dies out as the rover turns the corner, revealing a group of Trikru members standing in the middle of the path. Bellamy lifts the radio to contact the truck of fuel behind you. “We got a situation, looks like a Trikru checkpoint. Stay alert, show no weapons. Keep your passengers on ice.”

“Copy.”

Clarke leans forward, between you and Bellamy, peering out the windshield at the group. “Wait, it's not a checkpoint. They have wounded.”

And before either of you can say anything to her, she turns and jumps out of the back of the truck, leaving you and Bellamy staring after her, dumbfounded. You turn and meet each other’s eyes, and he gives you an exasperated look. You nod in return, waving him off. “I know, I know. I’ll go get her.”

You hop out of the rover after her, while Bellamy updates the other vehicle, and you jog to catch up with your twin. As the two of you approach, a man turns and looks your way, running over to the two of you, looking pleased to see you both. “Wanheda. Wanlida.”

Same nickname. Said with a lot less hatred though. Clarke nods to the group. “What happened here?”

“Azgeda burned our village to the ground. My father caught an ax with his leg, and we can't stop the bleeding.”

The man motions towards the bleeding man on the ground, and as you and Clarke walk that way, you hear the door of the rover close, indicating that Bellamy is out of the vehicle and heading your way. Clarke bends down and inspects the wound, and you feel a hand at the small of your back, Bellamy, letting you know he's right behind you. It only takes a second for Clarke to realize that the femoral artery has been cut, and there’s nothing she can do to save him. She turns to look at you, expression grave, but then you see her eyes widen slightly at something behind you. 

You turn and follow her gaze to a young Trikru boy, standing beside the fuel truck, looking up at the drivers. Clarke abruptly turns and looks at the man who greeted you. “I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do.”

Bellamy motions towards the Trikru men still spread out along the road, blocking your exit. “Think maybe you can clear the road?”

“Everyone, move!” The man follows you as you all hurry back to the rover, eager to get away from them before they realize their enemy is in the back of your second truck. “If you're headed to Polis, we could use a ride.”

Clarke scrambles into the back, shutting the door behind her, and you slide into the passenger seat quickly. Bellamy, however, is reaching for the door handle when he replies, “We're not headed to Polis.”

“Broadleaf and Plains Riders are moving against Azgeda, we want in.”

Bellamy ignores him, yelling to the kid who has now inched dangerously close to the back of the fuel truck. “Hey, kid, get away from there!”

The boy puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step backwards as he does, his eyes now falling on Roan and his men in the back of the truck. He immediately takes off running, screaming as he does, “Azgeda! Azgeda!”

“No!” Bellamy yanks the door open and scrambles inside, yelling, “Damn it!”

He puts the car in drive and takes off without a second thought, pushing his way through the people who have tried to gather in the road again. Arrows whiz past your vehicle as you make a hasty getaway, and there's nothing any of you can do but hope that the hydrazine is safe as you barrel through the woods as fast as you can. 

Bellamy pushes the rover as fast as he can, trying to put as much distance that he can between you and the Trikru warriors. All of you sit in tense silence, the stress of the situation failing to dissipate, even as you reach the edge of the woods. The trees abruptly end and open up into a small, sandy shoreline, a quick moving river flowing in front of you. You and Bellamy exchange a look, knowing it shouldn't be there, before Bellamy radios, “Looks like we got another problem.”

Bellamy stops the vehicle before you all hop out, standing on the river's edge and watching the water move downstream. Clarke shakes her head. “Murphy didn't say anything about a river.”

“What else could go wrong?”

The sound of approaching footsteps in the sand alert you to Roan's presence before his voice does. “Ice melt. I'll find us a place to cross upstream.”

He starts to walk away, but Clarke calls out to him. “Wait, take the Rover. You'll cover more ground, and it'll be safer.”

Bellamy looks over at Roan, and then to Clarke, in disbelief. “With him?”

“We have to get across the river. The rest of us will stay here and guard the fuel.”

Bellamy’s eyes fall to you, and you give him a sassy smile. “You guys could use the bonding time. I’ll stay here, keep everyone out of trouble.”

He looks hesitant, and makes no move towards the rover. You step forward and kiss him, before pushing him away, towards the vehicle. “I”ll be fine. There’s a radio in the truck, I’ll call if we need help.”

He nods, but still seems unconvinced that he should leave you behind. Despite that, he gets inside, and calls out to you through the open window, “We won't be long. Eyes sharp.”

You and Clarke step away from the rover, moving to its other slide to be closer to the fuel truck. From this side, you’re able to see Roan as he moves towards the passenger seat, and when he reaches for the door handle, Seiku calls out to him. “Ai haihefa, osir beda goch yu op.”

My king, we should go with you. Roan shakes his head, turning his full attention to the man. “Non bilaik mou meija kom disha shimon, teik em klir. Emo sentaim.”

Nothing is more important than this cargo, keep it safe. Them too. He says the last words with his eyes locked on you and Clarke, and Seiku nods, accepting the order. And then Roan pulls open the door and slides into the seat beside Bellamy, yanking the door closed again just as the rover starts to drive off. You watch the vehicle until it disappears from your sight, hoping that the two men find a place to cross and they find it fast. 

The two guards Kane sent with you spread out, weapons drawn, facing the trees and keeping an eye out for any sign of the Trikru warriors. Clarke walks over to the truck, keeping close to the cargo, while two of Roan’s guards linger nearby, whispering back and forth in Trigedasleng. You linger a few steps away from the truck, closer to the water, watching the river as it rushes nearby, and Roan’s third guard, Seiku, hovers nearby. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you, and feeling brave, you turn to face him. “Wanlida; what does it mean?”

A look flashes across his face, but it happens so fast you're unable to pinpoint what it means. He eyes you for a long time, and you start to turn away, thinking he’s not going to answer, when he replies, “Wanlida, the Bringer of Death.”

“That’s what people call me?”

“Yes. Wanheda commands death, giving the final blow. But you, you bring her to us, to the villages, to the mountain. You lead death straight to us, and she does the rest.”

Azrael and Azazel, twins of death and destruction. Cursed, bringing death wherever you follow. Because wherever you are, Clarke is never far behind. The nickname conflicts you, as you're sure it conflicts others. Some say Wanheda with awe in their voices, some fear, some anger. You imagine that the same conflict remains when they talk about you. The thought of being a killer, a monster, comes back to you again, reminding you of who you’ve become since landing on the ground. Wanlida, the bringer of death. Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sounds of conflict that reach your ears from nearby. Seiku’s too, because both of you turn to face the noise, just in time to watch the two Azgeda guards kill the two Skaikru guards. 

Seiku grabs you without warning, and you think he is about to kill you and add your body to the growing pile. Instead, he drags you over to the truck, pushing you down by its side, beside Clarke, who is looking at both of you in alarm. “What’s going on?”

“Quiet. I’ll handle this. When I tell you to run, run.”

You and Clarke both nod, acknowledging his command, watching as he faces the two men and yells, “Chit yu dula? Haihefa biyo na shil shimon.”

What are you doing? The king said to protect the cargo. You can't see which of the men is responding, but he answers in English, making sure you all get the message. “We are. That's why we’re taking the cargo. If nothing is more important than this, then our people deserve it.”

“No, the king wants us to protect it, so he can save everyone.”

“The king has been blinded by his loyalties to Skaikru, despite the lies they tell. Now stand aside Seiku, and give us the girls.”

“No.” He pulls out his sword, and stands at the ready. “If you want them, you’ll have to kill me.”

You hear a short laugh, and then the sound of all three men coming together, clashing in a chaos of sound. As soon as Seiku starts to fight them, he turns and yells, “Run, now!”

You stand and start to take off, but Clarke lingers, eyeing the fuel. You turn and wave her towards you, “Clarke, come on!”

“But the fuel!”

“The fuel won't matter if we’re dead and unable to deliver it! Let's go!”

You grab her wrist and pull her after you, and she relents and allows you to lead her towards the river. Your plan is to cross the water and duck into the trees that start along the other side, keeping you and Clarke hidden until you have back up or a better plan. You’re closing the distance between you and the river’s edge when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. When you turn, you see one of the men running after you, trying to catch up. Seiku knocks the man he is still fighting away from him, and turns to pursue the man after you. Unfortunately, the man in pursuit reaches you first and tackles Clarke to the ground. You fall with her, your hands still connected, but you roll over and recover quickly when you realize that he’s pulling out a knife to stab Clarke. 

You jump up and knock the weapon out of his hand, sending it flying, and he turns and hits you hard, knocking you away from the two of them. You scramble back to your feet and run at the man, tackling him to the ground, forcing him away from Clarke. As you do, Seiku reaches the three of you, and pulls the man off of you before he can harm you, knocking him out quickly. Seiku pulls you to your feet, and you nod in thanks, before he motions to Clarke. “You should check on her.”

Clarke is sprawled out on the ground, panting hard, trying to catch her breath after being choked. As you start to move towards her, she screams, “Look out!”

You turn, watching as the other guard looses an arrow, now heading straight towards you, and for some reason, you freeze in place. You hear Clarke scream your name in a panic, and your brain tries telling your feet to move, but instead, your feet stay resolutely in place, determined to let your body catch this arrow. Except, the arrow never reaches you. Seiku sees all of this happening, and he runs towards you, wrapping his arms around you just as the arrow lands in his back. He grunts, and starts to sway on his feet, and you stumble, trying to keep him upright. But amongst all the commotion, you don’t realize that the guard Seiku knocked out wasn't knocked out at all. He rises from his place, closes the space between you, and pulls Seiku’s head back, slitting his throat while Seiku’s arms are still around you, trying to protect you. You scream as blood spills from his neck, some of it hitting you, and he becomes dead weight on your arms, causing you to fall backwards and crash onto the sand below. He dies seconds later, the blood leaving his body at a rapid pace, and you feel emotion rise in your chest for this man that tried to save you and keep you safe, despite the curse around you. Bringer of Death. And here he is, now dead in your arms.

Your mourning for the loyal Azgeda guard is short lived though, because you hear Clarke let out a cry of pain, before she hits the ground beside you. You scream her name in horror and pull yourself from beneath Seiku, scrambling over to her and checking her pulse as fear practically chokes you. You let out a sound of relief when you feel the strong thud of her heart beneath your fingertips, and once you get the confirmation that she’s still alive, you look up and around for the two guards. They’re close, weapons trained on Clarke, and you have only a few seconds to decide your plan before you execute it. 

You pull your knife from your holster and stand, holding the weapon to your throat. “That vehicle will not move unless one of us drives it. Clarke’s gonna be out for at least a few hours, thanks to you, and I suspect Roan and Bellamy will be back here before she even wakes. Any chance you have to get the fuel away from here, rides on me. But if you kill Clarke, I will slit my own throat, leaving both of you without a driver, and with an angry king to deal with.”

The two men share a look, both of them eyeing the knife gripped tight in your hand, sure that you'll do it if they threaten Clarke. Because you will. “Fine. Wanheda gets tied up, but she goes with us. First, we wrap up Seiku.”

You nod in agreement, following one of the men to the truck while the other watches over Clarke. You get one of the tarps out of the vehicle, Mount Weather’s finest, and hand it to the guard that lingers close to you. He motions for you to follow him back towards the body and you do, helping him wrap Seiku in the tarp while the other guard binds and gags your twin. The guard starts to drag him closer to the water, placing him just on the water’s edge, slightly hidden behind a large fallen tree. When he turns his back to head towards the truck, you stab your knife into the ground beside Seiku’s head, a message for Bellamy that you’re still alive, before whispering, “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

Then you turn and head back towards the truck, sliding into the driver’s seat as one of the men climbs into the back with the fuel, and the other lifts Clarke into the passenger seat before squeezing himself into the middle. He pulls the cords from the radio, ceasing any potential communication with Bellamy, as you start the truck and pull away from the river, following the directions that he grunts out periodically. You drive for a little while, hoping that Bellamy and Roan will find you soon, since you haven’t gone too far from your original location. As you’re driving in an open field, surrounded by trees on either side, you suddenly catch a glimpse of something moving closer to you in the side view mirror. As you do a double take and look again, you realize that it’s the rover, and Bellamy has finally caught up. You hold back your sigh of relief and the smile that threatens to break free, not wanting to give him away. Instead, you slowly ease your foot off of the gas and let the vehicle start to slow down, so Bellamy can catch up. The guard in between you notices the slowing vehicle, and he looks out the back and sees the approaching rover, before yelling to the other guard, “Stop them!”

Then he spins around, pulls out a knife, and holds it to Clarke’s throat, slamming his foot down on top of yours and yelling, “Keep going!”

There’s nothing you can do but drive, and watch the rover get closer and closer to your vehicle. As Bellamy pulls up beside you, you glance at him, and his eyes are locked on you, looking worried. His eyes fall to the blood all over you, and you don't have enough time to tell him it’s not yours, because the guard at your side moves the knife from Clarke over to you, pressing it against our neck as he glares at your boyfriend. Bellamy yells, “Give me a clean shot!”

He doesn't wait for your answer, he just pushes the rover to its highest speed, quickly moving past your vehicle and pulling away from you. He puts as much space as he can in between you, before he abruptly yanks the wheel of the rover and stops the vehicle in your path, his driver’s side door now facing you. He flings the door open and you can see the flash of his gun in the light of the sun as he aims right towards you. The guard beside you grabs the wheel, trying to yank it from your hands and maneuver the vehicle out of Bellamy’s path, and you struggle against him, not giving up. But the space between your vehicle and Bellamy’s is rapidly closing, and you know that if you hit him, he’ll be dead on impact, before the crash knocks out the hydrazine and wipes out the rest of you. 

You swing your elbow towards the man, knocking him away from you, giving Bellamy the space to shoot him without hitting you. A second later, the glass on the windshield breaks, and the guard lets out a cry of pain before slumping over. You look at his dead body in shock, before turning back to the front, watching as you’re about to slam into the rover. You slam both of your feet onto the brakes, hoping it’s enough, and Bellamy pulls himself back into the rover as you come sliding towards him. Somehow, the vehicle stops just short of crashing, saving all of you, and you lock eyes with Bellamy through the glass, both of you smiling at each other in shocked relief.

-

Despite a few hours of the journey still ahead of you, you all wait around until Clarke wakes up, and you know she’s okay. She's a little banged up, a little bruised, but she passes all of the concussion tests that you give her, and repeatedly insists that she’s fine. Bellamy anxiously scans your body, looking for injuries, despite your insistence that the blood on your clothing does not belong to you. You pass along to Roan that Seiku was loyal until the end, defending the cargo, and you and Clarke, just like he asked. Roan thanks you for the message, and you catch the first glimpse of emotion from the king when he turns away, looking sad, but he quickly tucks it away when he catches you watching. 

Clarke insists on driving the fuel, and Bellamy insists that you ride in the rover, not wanting you out of his sight again, so Roan agrees to ride with Clarke, splitting the party evenly into two vehicles. When you slide inside the rover, Bellamy hands you your knife, now back to its rightful owner for the second time in less than 24 hours, and you give him a grateful smile. The rest of the ride passes quickly, which you’re thankful for, and a few hours before sunset, Bellamy guides the rover from the trees, out onto a beach. “We’re here.”

In the distance, you can the approaching boat, your ride to Becca’s Island, this terrible trip nearly finished. Bellamy parks the rover and you both hop out, stepping onto the shoreline and watching the boat as it slowly moves closer. Bellamy reaches out for your hand, and then takes a deep breath, seemingly coming to a decision. “I'm gonna take the Rover back to camp.”

You turn to look at him, at this deviation from the plan, and though you don't want to be separated from him, you know exactly why he wants to do this. “Octavia?”

“It's pathetic, right? She hates me but I keep coming back for more.”

You squeeze his hand, offering him comfort. “She's your sister, she's blood. She'll come around and see how special you are.”

He nods, and you turn and look at him, both of you locking eyes. “But that’s exactly why I have to stay with Clarke. I’m worried about the hit to her head that I was too slow to stop, and admittedly, I’m worried about my mom going to space in a century old rocket to create Nightblood. I need to be there for them. Both of them.”

“I understand.”

You start to say your goodbyes to each other, but you’re interrupted by Clarke yelling, “We've got a problem.”

You both run over to the truck, meeting Clarke and Roan there, and the king is in the back, beside one of the barrels of hydrazine. He slides it to the end, turning it around, revealing an arrow sticking out of the bottom. “Trikru arrow.”

Roan kicks the barrel off the back, and you all watch in horror as it tumbles to the ground, bouncing twice, knocking the lid off. Not a single drop of liquid spills, indicating that it has long been drained, and there's nothing any of you can do except stare at the empty barrel in disappointment. 

Clarke is the first to break the silence, muttering, “I’ll go radio the others.”

You, Roan, and Bellamy work in silence to unload the barrels, checking the rest of them one by one, making sure they’re intact. Jackson and Miller arrive on the boat a few minutes later, and after you relay the news to them, you load the rest of the hydrazine on board, before Clarke and Roan board the ship behind them. You and Bellamy linger on shore, not wanting to say goodbye, yet knowing that you have to. He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, long and slow, dripping with love and adoration, saying everything you need to say. 

“I love you, blainen natshana.”

“I love you more than the stars.” He gives you a sad look, and you lift a hand to his cheek, resting it there. “I’ll see you in a few days. We’ll figure this out, get Nightblood made, and we’ll be home before you know it.”

He nods, tears shining in his eyes, bringing tears to your own eyes. He repeats his words from the night before back to you, bringing a watery smile to your face. “In this lifetime, and in the next.”

You whisper back, “Forever.”

He kisses you one last time, and hugs you tight, before pulling away and helping you onto the boat. You stand at the back, eyes locked on him the entire time, watching him as the boat pulls away. Your eyes never leave each other, both of you waving and watching, only stopping long after he’s disappeared from your sight. You remain at the back of the boat, watching the sun sink lower in the sky, until it kisses the horizon, the sky erupting in a beautiful painting of colors. And as the moon eventually takes her place, rising into the sky as a guiding light, you watch it, drawing comfort from the crescent shaped beauty. And somewhere, sitting along a sandy shoreline, Bellamy Blake sits, watching the same moon in the sky as the love of his life. 

-

next chapter

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff Ultimate: 1st Quarter

2020 has certainly left us already crawling for next year, but I say we shouldn’t leave all the good things behind. Time for a lightning roundup, no holds barred! 3. 2.. 1…

Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

I couldn’t help but describe this as “Baby’s First Fantasy Adventure” like The Dragon Prince. It looks good, colorful, imaginative enough, but nothing about the story or characters pushed me to watch past episode 3 because I’ve no doubt seen stuff like this before but more interesting. It’s a good watch no doubt, but hardly groundbreaking to me. (Grade: C+)

The Owl House

Now this was more my speed. I definitely enjoyed the various designs of monsters and average Boiling Isle citizens far more. Eda immediately became my favorite witch character. While it reminded me a little too much of Gravity Falls, I was honestly hooked for more than just it’s otherwise eye opening demonic aesthetics. (Grade: B+)

Dorohedoro

Now THIS is a post apocalyptic series I’ve been waiting for in a while. Q really put together a world worth checking out, seeing its nooks and crannies, while giving us characters worth exploring with at every angle. She especially does a great job manga-wise where the black and white makes the edgy details pop in a meaningful way. The anime itself is just as good. Brought down by some wonky action scenes and movements, but the blend of 2D and 3D worked better than the Beastars anime. (Grade: A)

Keep Your Hands Off the Eizouken!

Talked about it plenty of times before, but this is that series that just speaks for itself, manga and anime. Smooth pacing, no contrived drama bullshit, hardly leaves any loose ends, easily accessible for anyone. It's the DMC5 of anime, meaning it is the most 'anime' anime I've seen thus far. (Grade: A++) 

Duncanville

Surprisingly not a wack family sitcom. The characters are what really sell the comedy, except for Duncan himself who’s not terrible but isn’t great as the star of the show, especially compared to his mom; and it’s weird cuz they share the same VA. Plus it’s actually well animated and stylized compared to the average Family Guy knockoff. It’s worth a check out in my book. (Grade: B)

Thundercats Roar

Oh wow, a nostalgia cartoon reboot that everyone will argue over but at the end of the day, is about as average as it gets. While I can appreciate the animation when it gets dynamic during its action scenes, I came out every episode remembering nothing and moving on. If I wanted a half hour centered around safe memes or forgettable punchlines, I would’ve subscribed to Jimmy Kimmel or ankle-beez by now. (Grade: C)

Harley Quinn series

This was a left fielder for me; the trailer gave a far different impression than expected. I can definitely appreciate how they treated not only Harley’s character, her relationship with Joker vs Ivy, but the rouge gallery of DC villains and heroes. What other DC product got me to love King Shark as much as this? Plus, Harley x Ivy are the OTP, but I appreciate them giving Kite Man some respect. (Grade: A-)

Birds of Prey

I didn’t mind the movie, but it lacked that dry punch that Harley’s series gave me. It was kinda the reason why I’ve seen people say Harley was becoming DC’s Deadpool type. even when Harley was a good star of the film. Didn’t help that Black Canary and Huntress were the only other characters I liked, and I don’t wanna get into the implicating homophobia. I want to say Sionis was great, but he doesn’t work when you have both the villain and protagonist be unhinged. All in all, I’ll give it the same score I gave Deadpool 1. (Grade: C+)

Dolittle (2020)

The movie’s climax was a long dragon fart and I wanted to die. (Grade: D)

Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)

A live action video game movie about an animated character. Let me put it like this: references and fanservice is not substance, taking place in the human populace does not help the escapism, reminding me that Olive Garden sucks ass is not funny, and only being half animated is cock and ball torture. If I don’t care for realism in my video games, this DOESN’T help. It has a couple good moments, but this is mostly unimaginative, by the book, and not worth going back to. Works as a Flash movie, I guess.  (Grade: C-)

Sonic Rebuilt

Sincerely the chad Sonic film of this year. Even when it’s a reanimated version of the 90s film, the creativity every artist applies for their respective scene brings better life to the original film like with Shrek Retold. Yeah, there’s live action segments in it, but it’s part of the gag not a crux of the film’s visuals. It isn’t fully original since they use the original’s voice work and music, but everyone involved gave a genuinely good spin on the pretty overlooked feature. Plus it has a Sonic that gets shit done and has the better voice. (Grade: A-)

Ishuzoku Reviewers

Kono anime wa igaito shinsendesu. Bōru o korogashi tsudzukeru hōhō o shitte imashita. Sore wa yoi owarai de, kesshite mumide wa arimasendeshita. Itsumo mitakatta ano etchina shirīzudeshita. (Grade: A-)

Meggy’s Destiny

The plot has its low points, but this is still an entertaining short film. The characters were what kept the ball rolling and the ending was that coup de gras on the main character’s overall story arc. (Grade: B+)

Trolls World Tour

This film works better than the first to me mainly because we can focus on Trolls and their musical world rather than the Bergens who didn’t offer much. The plot is simple, but it being a multi-genre musical kept me hooked. The finale especially was that cherry on top of this bouncy film. Also Poppy is still the best. (Grade: B+)

Glitch Techs

It stands to say Men in Black meets Captain N and Pixels works well as a premise for a show, and this certainly delivered by actually being ANIMATED. I’m sorry, but can corporations soon understand that premises and ideas that work better with animation stop trying to make it live action? Also, it brought Fanboy and Chum Chum back from the dead, and that is a worthwhile achievement. (Grade: A)

Doom Eternal and Animal Crossing: New Horizons

They’re honestly the same game from what I got to play. AC was a little more stressful than Doom, especially with managing my stalks, but they were both nonetheless an all around great time so they get the same score. (Grade: A)

Steven Universe Future

Had some shit episodes, had some delightfully fun episodes, and had a half shit/half delightful finale. Pretty on par for Steven Universe but I say it’s elevated above most of the original series with the grown Steven himself. Much as I wish his character was dealt with better, I was still invested in his story nonetheless even when the fixed perspective honestly fucked over most else in this series. It’s far better than season 5, not as good as seasons 1 & 2. So yeah, I liked it and I’m gonna miss this show. (Grade: B-)

Onward

The ending doesn’t make up for a pretty middle of the road film. If I wanted a film about familiar bonding in a goofy fantasy world, I could’ve just watched A Goofy Movie. The world feels creative enough, but it’s like Pixar has been losing their touch or mostly peaked when it comes to imaginative premises. I’m hoping Soul can bounce ‘em back cuz while this isn’t the worst, certainly didn’t feel like their best. (Grade: C+)

【ＡＮＤ　ＴＨＡＴ＇Ｓ　ＴＩＭＥ！】

Well that’s all for the first quarter of 2020. Quite above average all around, certainly some worthwhile things to keep your busy while this pandemic is upon us, except Dolittle. Were there any that I missed? Probably. Let’s see where the 2nd quarter provides as we carry on into the Spring months. 

Stay safe out there, and see you in June.

[highgaarden]

Klaroline Time Travel, please for the inbox game.

send me an au and i’ll write five headcanons about it.

i got this prompt a few days ago and thought - hey, it sort of fits in with one of the prompts in @klaroline-events’ june bingo: curse.

two birds, one stone? is that allowed? anyway, if it’s not allowed it’s okay, i had fun writing this all the same! another one for my drunk writing: a series tag, which as usual was written in one sitting whilst i giggle throughout.

sweetness that i took for, sweetness that she gave me to me;

though my heart has long been given to you summer's turn is nigh swifts and swallows swoop and yearn for you with all that's in the sky but blow the wind and come the rain and come my love again

i. 

she’s on the ground when she comes to. her head’s a mess and her back hurts, and she licks the inside of her dry mouth, suddenly wishing for blood to coat her parched tongue. 

the last thing she remembers is freya, davina, her own twins and bonnie standing in formation around hope; some kind of spell to slow down her age or something. she’s in her twenties and every day klaus grows more and more volatile about it, so it was deduced that something had to be done.

in that salt circle hope didn’t look too happy about it. last night there had been a huge argument between father and daughter - everyone had stayed well enough away, even hayley, who shrugs at her as if to apologize this was how their girls' summer break from the salvatore school was going.

“minutes ut horis et diebus et hebdomades,” bonnie and freya chant. 

hope groans.

 “quantum pugillus capere potest,” lizzie and josie continue, fingers clasped together, their eyes turning white. 

hope snorts.

“ex harenae spatia veluti clepsydris metiuntur,” davina bellows as wind starts whipping the air around them. 

hope rolls her eyes.

“tempus extendit!” they chorus together.

the witches chant and hope checks her wristwatch, and then a storm rolls in, breaking everything. the twins are flung to different ends of the room; freya loses her footing and has to dig her nails into the floor to avoid being dragged out the window that's burst open; bonnie bleeds through her nose and drops to her knees; davina flings herself over hope when the little baby tribrid starts to convulse--when it hits her, when it really hits her, that something has gone terribly wrong--

she's on her back. in a cemetery, her throat is bleeding and tyler - tyler? - is shouting down at her, but she can't hear anything he's saying.

she raises her hand. around her wrist, a charm bracelet glints, and her vision blurs: "no," she gasps, death taking over. she hasn't worn that bracelet since her eighteenth birthday.

ii.

klaus sits on the edge of her bed, his gaze swallowing her. she hears a crooning in her ears that she attributes to the werewolve venom taking space in her veins, smoking out the seams of her. she is burning up; this isn't real - how is this real? this isn't happening - she must be hallucinating, she was a woman in the abbatoir watching as a spell self-destructed, and now - 

she was a girl again, and she was dying.

"what's going on?" she whispers, frustrated even as gravity as she knew it malfunctioned around her, making her weightless yet heavy to the bone all at once. "this doesn't make any freaking sense."

"me persuading you, trying to save your life?" klaus cocks his head to the side. it's funny - he is so hard and unreadable here, so many years ago. he wore his rosaries and beads like they meant to be anything more than an accessory peaking just underneath his collar - he wore them like they armour; a badge of honour, hard worn after a bloody, grisly fight. and yet looked and smelled clean. so clean it cut through the putrid leaking out of her neck. "you do think so low of me, then."

"didn't i just say that?" she coughs, splattering her blanket with a fine red mist. this wasn't how it had gone the first time around. he was sitting there, staring at her, those same old hungry eyes she remembers even years later like a broken dream. she can't help herself. she stares him down, much like the first time, but then - her mouth parts, she licks her dry, parched lips, and says, "i've seen so many things."

klaus, ancient monster klaus who barely knew anything more about her than her name, klaus, the being just short of an omniscient deity,old as blood and weathered as a mountain - he doesn't laugh. he nods, once, hearing and listening. he says, "i don't doubt that, sweetheart."

she almost smiles. she's oddly satisfied. "maybe i am ready to die."

"then you're lucky," klaus says, "not many are."

"because you don't give them the chance," she says, coughing again. man, werewolf bites sucked. this memory got it down so perfectly, she would curse the witches' powers if she weren't so impressed.

"who says i don't?" 

she watches him with interest. "i thought you maimed first, ask questions never?"

"maim isn't kill." klaus grins. "maim is slow, painful, yes, but it gives them just long enough to plead their guilt, swear fealty to me, no? my maiming is my mercy."

"you write poetry or something?"

klaus laughs quietly. "i did some editing work for shakespeare, for a fashion. can't say i've ever written anything, no. my talents lie elsewhere."

she thinks about the wisp of his dress shoes against the hem hre ballgown. klaus leading her into a room with wide, arched ceilings. one of my passions, he said.

"i know," she says, quietly, with so much rueful affirmation in her voice that klaus reels back suddenly. as if realising he was sitting with someone who was far more familiar with him than current logic would suggest.

it felt like strange company to be having on her death bed. he had talked her out of dying last time. would he, again, in this memory?

was this a memory?

she thinks about how powerful the witches were in their own right. she thinks about their combined power. she thinks about how her blanket scratches heavily against her drenched, hyper-sensitive skin. 

she's not sure this is just memory.

and - and if it weren't just a memory, and the spell they'd tried casting had tried to temper with time, and she was here, in the PAST, was she - oh god - was this - ?

"klaus," she gasps, clutching at his hands. klaus' eyes widen.

"i don't know who you think you are, girl," klaus begins in a snarl, but everything flashes bright and hot - 

iii.

"and how am i doing?"

he knows his lines by now. he had been confused, enraged, elated all at once when he'd first landed slap dab in the middle of a patch in time he'd already lived through, but he's seen things in his thousand-and-something years, so he wasn't all that surprised. he'd tried to switch things up at first, say things he'd held back all those years ago, and watches caroline's face change.

it was fascinating, seeing things all over again. it offered him perspective. arguing with caroline but being able to detach himself from the moment and study all the ways that make her tick. knowing her for so many years now, he knew when she was bluffing. it was the way she would refuse to meet his eyes. back then, she never met his eyes.

stubborn little woman.

she turns. her gaze was sharper than the chill of the uncharacteristically cool spring afternoon. and then all at once she softens, and the bloom around her inexplicably gain more colour. the rest of the pageant dulled around her as she grew larger than life. "you look... perfect."

he'd never realised that little breath she had let out - like he had met her expectations yet again. exceeded them, in fact. she held herself carefully  around him, like she was made of thousands of little strings which would at any point unravel, leaving her bare for him.

odd, because he could only ever remember her being determined not to relinquish any control over to him. it had never occurred to him that her grip over it wasn't as unwavering as he'd thought.

iv.

caroline speeds through these scenarios she didn't have a name for, now that she had determined their level of harm - they appeared to only be swaths of time, ripped to shreds, trying to come back together. she wondered about the reality of bonnie, freya, her girls and davina's ministrations.

what had they done to Time?

she couldn't call it memories, these moments she steps into. maybe time was reconstructing. her meetings with klaus weren't in any chronological order. at some point they were in her office, two years ago, him pleading with her to help him save his daughter. experiencing it the first time around hadn't been easy. the second - she could watch him with new eyes and notice all the other, smaller ways he seemed to be falling apart. the things she'd never noticed. 

like the way he could stare at her, and oh how he stared. the way he would level his eyes to hers when it looked like she was ready to break eye contact; he would catch her gaze and hold, pulling her back, tethering her to him, unrelenting.

he's looking at her right now as he shows her his paintings. it's the night of the mikaelson ball all over again, and she is in her gifted dress and klaus is in his relish of the moment. how she had come to him after letting him dress her. now that she's older she knows now, what it must have meant to him. this small claiming, the first of many.

but there is none of the heat in his gaze, because he's not that klaus yet. he's not in love with her, yet. he's not looking at her as if he'd like nothing else than to just press the very tips of the hair that brushed his forehead to hers, just hold her there, and not think for a while.

yet.

she knows how this will go. did klaus know, then?

"you make it sound like it was the easiest decision in the world," she finds herself saying, "choosing me."

klaus looks surprised. she'd interrupted him mid-rant about some kind of debate, michaelangelo vs donatello or whatever. "was i not making myself clear enough when i said i fancy you?"

"liking - despite yourself - that's not choosing." she gives the half-done sketches in her hands a quick glance before putting them back where she'd found them. "we both know i'm not just your fancy of the week."

klaus' face clouds over. "and here i thought courting you would be easy." it sounds like a joke, but it's not. she can hear it in the sudden shift in his voice, how it becomes just that much silkier.

"you didn't really think that," she says knowingly, playing into his charade. enjoying the danger. some things never really change, she wants to laugh.

a small smirk breaks through the hard set of his mouth. "no, i really didn't. you're too smart to be seduced by me."

caroline blinks. her own words, in his mouth, shouldn't startle her so much. how well he knew her, even having just met her. "that's why you like me," she says. only just loud enough for him to catch it.

he doesn't say anything. just lifts her gloved knuckles to his lips and kissed her there.

v.

she makes an excuse to leave. klaus is unwilling to let her go so easily but he's playing at being a gentlemen, because back then he'd thought she'd received him better. it was kind of adorable in a way, if it didn't vex her so much.

what was happening? where the hell was she? why was she stuck in a weird loop of all her interactions with klaus? was hope okay? when was she getting out of here?

she walks on, the trail of her dress getting dirty and muddled in the damp earth. she could smell in the air that it was going to rain, and yet she walks and walks and walks through the lawn of the mikaelson estate until she reaches the edge, and the air around her wrinkles and gleams, as if trying to force a doorway through.

she... takes a step forward. and another. she goes easily through the barrier - she almost wonders if she'd imagined it.

she's still in the mikaelson estate.

so she keeps walking - until she sees a familiar figure ahead. 

it's klaus.

she gulps. had he come look for her after all, shucking the gentleman and bowing to the monster?

she keeps walking. until she's close enough to see that he's looking a little more dishevelled than he did at the ball. his bowtie was lose around his neck. he'd lost his jacket, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. 

he looks at her. the way he's always looked at her.

she breathes in. "you're here too," she says on the exhale.

"enjoy the ball?" he asks, in lieu of a confirmation. he eyes her in the dress. "i almost forgot how lovely you looked, that night. i never knew if you kept the dress."

"i did," caroline laughs, shakily. "deep in the back of my closet, hidden from prying eyes - but not well hidden enough."

a corner of klaus' lips quirk. "tell me."

"my girls found it," caroline shrugs. "and hope wore it to her miss mystic falls pageant."

"did she win?" he asks, hungry for this bit of information about his daughter in the years he was dead, lost to time. 

"of course she did," caroline half-smiles. "she was in the care of lizzie's craftful hands. i raised my daughters in my image. not all - just the good bits."

"i love all your bits," klaus says. he smiles at her, softly, cataloguing how she looks now, in the dress he'd given her years and years ago. "you loved me for far longer than i'd thought, caroline."

caroline, to her credit, doesn't blush. no, she's too much a woman now. denial had lead her nowhere for so many years. "gonna gloat about it now?"

"nah," klaus says, putting his hands in his pockets as they fell into step, into the cold night. 

the grass, almost frozen in the morning dew to come, crunch under their feet. they walk until they reach his lake, because of course the mikaelson estate would have a lake. klaus pulls his hands out of his pockets and offers her his arm, which she takes, and leads her to the bench that overlooks the reflection of the night sky on still, dark waters.

"i wish you'd taken me here instead, that night," caroline says, still in that casual offhand voice she'd adopted since meeting him. "way more romantic."

"i thought you would've been averse to romantic, so soon after we'd met." klaus shrugs. "also, the full force of my courtship would have had you on your knees, caroline. a man has to start slow."

"i thought you would've liked me on my knees," she says impishly, and he nearly falls off the bench.

god, klaus had died and come back to life so many times a creature that just refused to go quietly - and yet with her he's this fumbling bashful boy. she nudged him with his knee, through the many delicate layers of her dress. "how was your trip down memory lane?"

"enlightening," he says mysteriously. she doesn't bother to hide her grin.

"so was mine," she says. "all those times you must have wanted to rip my head off. i was a daring idiot."

"not an idiot," klaus argues. "sure, you could have held your tongue at any point - but you were certainly daring. you bore the brunt of my affections for you like armour. any lesser woman would have crumpled."

she doesn't meet his gaze, but he catches her chin before she can look away. "no, love. none of that, please. we've come so far."

he's pleased when she bites her bottom lip, understanding. he never had to explain herself with her. she was always perceptive, always listening, always deciphering. his clever caroline.

"so has hope," caroline says, and klaus groans quietly. "she's the brightest kid at the school, klaus. she knows her power and knows her limits. she can benchpress the boys under the table," she laughs in recollection, and he can't help but join in, "and you can't do anything about her growing, klaus."

klaus sighs. long and wrought out, and in pain. "i have missed so many of her years."

"what are you going to do, stall her even more? let her miss out on the beauty of aging, with lizzie and josie?" caroline catches his eye. "they've become family, our girls. we are family now - let them grow and know loss."

he's a bit dumbfounded by the wisdom she's displaying but has time to clear his throat and say, rather gruffly like when he's trying to mask awkwardness, "we're not a family. not really. you have alaric, and..."

"and alaric is my business partner, the father to the girls," she says sternly. "alaric is not... you."

it's weird, his gaze has been on hers all along, but it's like he's refocusing, seeing her for the first time. "what are you saying?"

"i'm saying that i didn't just come to new orleans because the girls wanted to spend summer break there." she licks her lips nervously. "i'm saying i came for me, too. it was a really nice holiday, klaus."

"before i bungled everything up, i expect," klaus mutters. caroline laughs a bit. the air around them had slowly warmed as their conversation lengthened, and was sizzling now, lighting up klaus' face in sparks of white and gold. "time to go back, sweetheart."

"you should work on your apology to her," caroline says, taking his arm again, and follows him as he stands and steps right into the middle of their ritual earlier.

lizzie and josie were there, and hope was in the middle of the twins sandwich - freya and bonnie were consulting a grimoire and davina was drawing chalk on the floor. they all looked up and stared at them, jaws dropping.

"looking good, dad," hope says, impressed, then her eyes land on caroline in the dress. "oh my gosh - it looks like it was made for you."

"um, it was hers?" lizzie says, snorting. "can't believe you're on honour roll."

"lizzie," josie chides. she tilts her head at klaus and her mother, looking them up and down, the way her mother’s hand was wrapped loosely in the crook of klaus’ arm, where only hours ago they had determinedly not touched this entire break. "so, weird trip?"

"you could say that," caroline says airily as the air re-seals behind them. "think something like a charles dickens novel."

"cool," hope nods. she looks at her father expectantly. "what have we learned about messing with time, dad?"

"to not do it," klaus concedes grumpily. "now off you go before i lose my mind over that gray hair growing down your temple."

"i do not have grey hair!" hope gasps, affronted, and storms the room, the twins giggling in tow.

"bet you wouldn't mind some slow-aging spells for THAT!" klaus calls after her laughingly, and she must have heard, tribrid senses and all, and mutters something about him might being right.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

New Beginnings (Part 5)

*Not My Gif*

Post Date: 10-20-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Two months later and the series is still alive! Sorry it took so long. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

~New Beginnings Master List~

~Master Lists~

~WIP’s~

Previously…

You put the tech in your pack when you entered your room and threw your dress off, taking a quick shower as you worried about Peter. He was safe, you knew that, but why wasn’t he answering? You slammed the shower off, knowing that there was no way you’d be able to enjoy the hot water. Putting on a pair of Peters’ sweatpants you had stolen a few weeks ago and a tank top, you grabbed your pack and took out the mystery piece. You ran your fingers over it again and again in hopes something would happen and you could figure out what it was, but nothing was working. You sighed, tossing the broken piece of tech onto the table before a blue light filled your room and a face appeared in the mist.

“What the hell?”

---

Your room was dark as the blue light flickered away, a new sense of panic overcoming you as you grab the metal piece and headed out of your room.

“Peter!” you shouted on the door to Peter’s room, pounding as no one answered.

“He’s not in there.” Brad said from the top of the stairs, making you turn around in surprise before sighing. “He left with MJ a few minutes ago. I saw them leave.” He sounded upset but you couldn’t care less, you lost all respect for him when he sent the picture of Peter to you.

You turned to your room before Brad stepped in front of you. “What do you want Brad? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, I see that. I just wanted to say I’m sorry I sent that picture to you.”

“Yeah why did you? I mean MJ I understand because of the whole male competitive thing you’re trying to start with Peter, but me?” You put your hands on your hip, hitting it with Quentin’s tech and you remembered what you were doing. “Look, I have to go. If you see Pete before, at least tell him I’m looking for him.” You pushed past him, ignoring his shouts about ‘helping Flash out’ by sending the picture. Since when were they friends?

You left the hotel as quick as you could, the cool night air encasing you, but you ignored the feeling and look around for Peter and MJ. Two figures, barely lit by the lights on the bridge, caught your attention as you practically sprinted there. MJ looked past Peter briefly seeing you before pointing it out to Peter. Peter shot around as fast as he could, taking a step towards you with worried eyes. You were lightly panting when you finally reached them, grabbing onto Peter’s shoulder as he held you up.

“Sorry I know I’m interrupting you guys but Pete, you need to see this.” You told him and held out the tech. Peter furrowed his brows, looking between you and the piece and about to grab it before MJ did.

“This! This is what I’m talking about, Spider-man and Night Monkey using the same webs.” Peter didn’t really know what to say at this point. You squeezed his arm and stepped a little closer, whispering so MJ couldn’t hear.

“Pete, there’s something you need to see. Beck he’s-“ You were cut off when MJ accidently hit a button and the projection came back. They both took a step back, Peter’s arm coming around your waist to pull you with him as you all watch the monster in the air before it disappeared.

“The hell was that?” Peter mumbled and held you tighter, looking around you both. MJ joined him as you finally got Peter to let you go, not catching the way he tried to pull you back. “Y/N, what’s going on.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. Look. This projector it’s advanced. Almost as much as my dad’s tech.” Peter slowly picked up the broken projector, turning it in his hand as MJ shook her head.

“So what does that mean?” She asked as you looked at her and hesitated.

“It means the elementals are fake.” You stated plainly, letting your head fall down. Peter’s breathing increased as you put a hand on his shoulder. “Peter…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. We were there. There was fire and destruction and… who would do something like that?” As soon as Peter finished talking the projection started again behind you all, shooting right through you and Peter as you scrambled to watch it. It showed more than it did the first time. The monster took a few swings into the air before a green figure flew through. You gasped loudly as you watched Mysterio fly through the blue air.

“Mysterio.” MJ mumbled before it ended. Peter locked eyes with you. His wide ones staring right into your terrified ones.

“Beck’s a fake.” You whispered once more as Peter nodded.

“I am Spider-Man.” He told MJ as your mouth dropped open, not believing he had just told her that. His attention went back to you. “I really messed up.” MJ just started to freak out as you stood silent, letting your heavy breathing show exactly what you were thinking. “MJ look I know you have a lot of questions, but we have got to get out of here right now.” MJ nodded at him, beginning to understand the gravity of the situation. Peter wasted no time in grabbing your hand, pulling you along with him back into the hotel as MJ ran after.

As soon as you got into the room, Peter let go of you, throwing his bag onto the bed and looking at MJ. “Could you go get Ned? Please?” he rushed out as she nodded, leaving you and Peter in the room.

“Peter. What do we do?” Peter’s heart clenched at the you sounded so worried. He brought you in for a hug and you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“I gave him the glasses.” He whispered into your ear and you found yourself frozen in place. He gave away your dad’s glasses… to Quentin Beck? “I’m sorry.”

You finally pulled away and looked at Peter in the eye, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “It’s ok. We’re gonna get through this. We need to talk to Fury.” Peter nodded his head, moving past you to change into his suit. He ripped his shirt and for the second time in the last so many minutes, you found yourself frozen this time staring at your stripping best friend. Peter’s hand was on his pants zipper before he caught you watching, making you blush as you turn around.

You silently chastised yourself, biting your lip as you found yourself slowly turning to peak at Peter. You could almost see him before a cough sounded at the door you hadn’t even heard open and there stood MJ and Ned staring at you and Peter. Ned’s mouth was dropped open in shook and MJ wore a smirk as she met your embarrassed eyes. God if you weren’t red already you sure the hell would’ve been now.

“The costume looks great, for the… costume… party.” Ned tried lying, glancing up at MJ as you stifled a laugh.

“She knows. I told her.” He says pointing at MJ, who promptly told everyone she figured it out a long time ago. You had to roll your eyes at your best friends as you turned around finally.

“Mysterio’s a fraud. He’s using holograms and pretending to save everyone.” You told Ned as he nodded slowly. Peter told him to call May and tell her to call Mr. Harrington and tell him Peter was staying with some family. “Ok. I’ll call Pepper, have her do the same.” You reached for your phone before Peter’s hand grabbed your arm and stopped you.

“Y/N… stay here. Please.” He begged slightly as you sighed, shaking your head. You were about to argue with him as you before his hand slipped down to yours, threading your fingers together. “I need you to stay safe. I messed up and I’m not going to let you come out of retirement just because I made a mistake.” You both stood there for a second, staring into his eyes and that feeling from the plane came back and your stomach did flips. You wanted to lean in, you wanted to kiss him. But he liked MJ.

“Be safe Pete.” He nodded before swinging out of the window. You watched as his figure disappeared through the buildings as MJ came up from behind you.

“I knew he was Spider-Man.” She said proudly as you let out a light chuckle, nudging into her side. “And you tried to convince me he was a male escort.”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that!” you laughed as you both fell back onto the bed. Ned had just got off the phone with May as he joined you guys a brief silence falling over all of you as you kept taking glances towards the window.

“Ok. What’s going on with you two?” MJ asked as you looked at her confused. Ned looked just as confused as MJ gave you a grin.

“What are you talking about?”

MJ just groaned, hitting you with a pillow as you pushed it away. “I’m talking about you and Peter.” Your breathing faltered as you avoided their gazes, choosing to look up at the ceiling of the room as you laid down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking-” MJ moved to copy your position, Ned soon moving as well as the three of you laid sideways on the bed, you in the middle of them both. “I’m talking about the fact you and Peter both like each other and neither of you making any move to actually do something about it.”

You sighed and pressed yourself further into the bed. “It’s not like that MJ. Peter… Peter’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together and he’s always been by my side. That’s all it is.” You couldn’t help the way your voice dripped of disappointment and MJ and Ned both caught on.

“Y/N. We’re not blind. You were actually one of the ways I knew Peter was Spider-Man.” She sounded way to proud of herself as you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at her in disbelief. She rolled her eyes. “Come one Y/N. I’ve never seen you as worried as you were for ‘Night Monkey’ with anyone besides Peter. And then there’s all the reasons I knew you were in love with Peter. You’re not that great of an actress Y/N. At least not when it comes to Peter.”

You had no idea what to say at that. She knew your secret and yet it didn’t matter because Peter couldn’t have felt the same way. “He doesn’t like me like that MJ. Trust me, I know.” You voice came out in a grumble and MJ didn’t saying anything else. She knew no matter what you wouldn’t want to believe her but she knew something you didn’t know. She knew what happened on the bridge.

“MJ, there’s this thing I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while. It’s our last night in Europe and I had this plan that I wanted to tell you. And I’m just gonna tell you…” Peter pulled out the container with the black Dahlia flower necklace he bought for MJ and had a weird feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t nerves, or the typical feeling he got when he used to think about MJ or how he thinks about you now. Instead it was regret. Guilt. He knew that this was wrong. He liked MJ, she was one of his best friends, but he knew this was wrong because here he was, his plan was being put in place but his head was falling apart because he knew MJ wasn’t the one.

“I’m in love with Y/N.” His eyes went wide as he finally spoke the words out loud and for the first time, everything made sense. He let out a chuckle and glanced to the ground, a smile adorning his face.

“I thought you were going to say you’re Spider-Man.” MJ says ruining his revelation with a smirk, having already kind of figuring out his feelings for you a while ago. Peter’s smile dropped fast as he looked up at her.

“…what?”

The three of you sat on the hotel bed, enjoying the comfort of each other before an idea came to your mind. You sat up abruptly, making MJ and Ned groan from the sudden shift in the bed as you grabbed your phone.

“Who are you calling?” Ned asked, nodding towards your phone as you smiled.

“Just someone from SHIELD. Gonna tell them to keep their eyes open for Peter.” You pressed Maris’s contact and listened to the ringing before getting sent to voicemail. Your brows knotted as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s weird.” You mumbled as MJ rolled off the bed and joined you.

“What’s weird? Who is it?” She asked and peered over your shoulder.

“Maria. She always answers for me. It’s unlike her to send me to voicemail.” You tried again to call her, hearing her voicemail once again before giving up. You sighed, turning towards MJ in defeat before another idea ran through your head. You scrolled down your contact list, stopping on the H’s before pressing the first one.

It only rang once before someone picked up. “Happy? I need your help.”

A few hours later, and a few calls from Mr. Harrington to Pepper, you were finally allowed to leave the trip and get on the jet with Happy. He gave you a hug when you saw him and you sat down in one of the chairs with Happy across from you.

“So you’re saying it was all fake?” He asked a half hour later when you finished explaining to him the situation. You nodded your head, letting it rest on the back of the chair.

“It was all holograms Happy. The man used holograms and put people in danger just to gain SHIELD’s trust.” You sighed deeply, hearing Happy sigh as well. “Peter gave him EDITH.” You could hear Happy gasp slowly as he tried to hide his response for your sake. You appreciated it but right now you just needed someone to tell you what to do. “I can’t help but blame myself. Maybe if I would’ve been there for him, not have left him with SHIELD then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. God, If I just…”

“It’ll be alright Y/N.” Happy tried to assure you but you just shook your head.

“Will it? Because I can’t help but think that this is all my fault. That maybe if I hadn’t been ‘retired’” you spat out the word in distaste, feeling your eyes start to water but you pushed through, “then maybe I would’ve actually been help. Maybe Peter would’ve have had to go through this all alone. And yet I can’t get past the fact that maybe I would’ve made everything worse. I always do.”

Happy moved to put a hand on your knee as you looked up at him, your eyes slightly red from your impending cry and you sniffled. “You don’t make things worse Y/N.”

“I could’ve saved my dad.”

“No. No you couldn’t have. You can’t beat yourself up what could’ve happened, Tony wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. Being a hero is hard work, just look at your father. Look, I get that you’re retired, but just because you’re done being a hero doesn’t mean the world’s ready for you to stop.” Happy said before giving your knee a squeeze. You didn’t say anything as you took in his words. You haven’t had anything to do with the avengers or fighting or anything really past Peter. You ignored everyone’s attempt at getting you back in the game and everyone’s attempt to get you get you involved with Tony’s company.

Could you still be a… hero?

Your mind reeled as your phone rang, an unknown number popping up on the screen as you groaned in frustration. All you wanted was to know Peter was okay. You answered the call and as soon as you did your mind stopped. The voice on the other side sounded soft and weak and they said your name. You were breathing heavier than you ever had before.

“Peter?”

How did I do?

ALL TAGLISTS OPEN

(Strikeout means I couldn’t tag)

(If you are on more than one taglist I only put you on one so I could tag everyone!)

*Since It’s been so long please tell me if your name changed so I can update it or if you want to be added or removed from any lists*

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @sadn0va @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @hollymac79

New Beginnings: @itsbebeyyy @eridanuswave @estate-euphoric @irxnspxder @nerdypsychicghostfarm @jackiehollanderr @sweetdarlingholland @pizzzzzaaatime @popejohn2candlefromwalmart @eggingamazinglove @soniasalvatore1 @hollandsthot @ppkrtingle @callingallavengers @loveofshows @simply-sams-things @amorisxx @stuckonpeterparker @kermittheshipper @furiouspockettoad @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @fandomgirl9193 @love-me-some-bucky @editsbyjenny @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @supreme-bisexual-sandwich @awkwardnesshabitat @roserrys @whatsmylaneagain @sltwins @eternallyvenus @fangirling12566 @goth-pigeon @babylonash @missmulti @nicolehartjie @harry-kiwi @hyperion-moonbabe

Peter Parker: @laic2299 @danielabetancourth @darktwistydiamond @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Marvel: @hahaboop

[seventeendeer]

Top 5 western animated shows?

it would be infinitely easier to make a top 20 since there are tons of cartoons I love with my whole heart, but these are my favorites at the moment!

1. Steven Universe

SU is one of my absolute favorite stories of all time! it’s so special and different from anything else I’ve seen. the characters are so fantastically complex, and it has a really special mood to it. the art style and the music, including the songs, are just so good and bring peace to my soul … I also love a story that’s got plenty to teach its audience, and SU talks about so many important topics with so much gentleness and grace. I also have much respect for the crew for fighting so hard to include queer characters and winning so spectacularly, for someone like me who grew up having to dig out queer subtext in the cartoons I watched so I could see myself in them, SU is just really special. I don’t think anything can ever really replace this show in my heart and knowing it’s on its last stretch is difficult to deal with … but I understand that the story is almost complete and it’s best to let it end the way the crew wants it to. regardless, I’ll always be thankful that I got to see it unfold in real time. the heart and care that went into creating it inspires me to apply that same kind of care to my own art and stories.

2. Ducktales 2017

this is a relatively new obsession for me compared to the others, but this show is like?? actually friggin fantastic and I adore it? it started out strong, but mid-season 2 is where I really got into it and understood what it had been building up to this whole time. I feel like DT17 is what happens when incredibly talented fanfic writers get to participate in an IP they love - it takes the thing it’s based on and remixes it so the narrative is much more interesting and more coherent, has much tighter characterization and goes much deeper into the source material than its ‘canon’ ever did. while I grew up with the extended duck canon in my periphery, I was never all that into it, even when I was a kid (aside from Darkwing Duck. holy shit ya’ll. that show is still so good even now), but this new version is just so masterfully reworked that it totally stole my soul. the creators clearly love the material they’re basing their story on, which also gives it a really special feeling. you can sense how much love goes into the story and characters. it’s also genuinely super, super funny! plus, it’s got some of the absolute best comedic female characters I’ve seen in a cartoon for kids, which says something when you consider the canon it’s based on. I’ve got so much respect for all the work the creators have poured into making a funnier, kinder, shinier version of something they love, and I am h y p e d for season 3!!!

3. Wander Over Yonder

this show is so simple, but it is an absolute masterpiece in its genre! it’s one of the series I’ve rewatched the most in recent years because it’s got such fantastic rewatch value. the comedy is delightfully stupid, the world is peak creative, the small recurring cast is wonderfully faceted, and the animation … so amazing … I genuinely have no clue how the crew managed to have consistently stunning animation on a tv show like this, but man, they really did it. of course, like every other WOY fan, my righteous fury shall never be quelled until the series finally gets its third and final season, BUT aside from that this show brings me nothing but joy!

4. Gravity Falls

ANOTHER CLASSIC ... I watched this show when it was first airing and I was following along with everyone’s theories, and it was such an exciting experience! the amount of detail in this show is awesome, you can really tell the creators were putting a lot of stuff in there based on what they would’ve found cool when they were kids and it gives the series a really authentic feeling. I also feel like GF has one of the absolute best series finales out of any of the tv shows I’ve watched - the culmination of all the characters’ arcs, the consequences of what the villain has been building to, and the emotional/happy but also a little bittersweet ending really made the story. it’s always one of the first series I recommend to folks wanting to watch more cartoons.

5. Adventure Time

a classic! this show has really, really grown on me over its many seasons. I loved that it continued to build its world and develop its characters even all the way up until the last few episodes, it makes the story feel so real. the many different relationships between the different characters were my favorite part, especially Finn and Jake remaining brothers and best friends even as they learned more about themselves individually, Princess Bubblegum and Marceline slowly putting their relationship back together, and seeing Marceline reconnect with Simon. Simon’s story in general broke my heart and then stuck it back together with glitter glue lol. all these characters are wonderful. I think the middle of the series was unfortunately a little weak (it seems to have staggered a bit after Rebecca Sugar left to create Steven Universe), but I think it found its footing again for real in season 7+ and I’m glad it stuck around long enough to get a lovely ending!

[popculturebuffet]

Top 10 Regular Show Episodes

Close Enough is Close! 2 more days and a show i’ve waited without hyperbole years for will finally land offically. While i’ve seen three episodes preelease, one because of a french film festival the other two because HBO made an oopsie, and it’s more than likely i’ll be seeing those episodes again thursday, it dosen’t make it any less special, as with an offical release comes the fandom finally becoming a thing and the ablility to watch the episodes over and over again.. on computer till HBO gets it’s shit together but still. IT’s a great time.  And my hype for the show made me revisit it’s big brother: Regular Show. Created by what would happen if you condesned california into a person, JG Quintel, Regular Show, as you all damn well know but I like doing anyway so as rigby would say, STOP TALKING, was about two slackers and best bros: Laidback hipster and hurricane when it came to talking to women, Mordecai and Rigby a high strung, idiotic, impulsive, and frequently angry racoon who worked, when they absolutley had to, at a park. Joining them at the park were their coworkers and later closest friends: Benson, their constnatly angry boss who constnatly belts out empty threats to fire them and has a rather sad personal life, Skips, a centuries old yeti whose literally seen it all and despenses advice for the duo and is voiced by everyone’s faviorite grandpa/jedi/murder clown Mark Hamill, Muscle Man, a grotesque blob of a man who likes  “My mom” jokes and breaking things, Hi Five Ghost, Muscle Man’s sidekick who got like.. one episode focusing on him alone over 8 seasons moving on, and Pops, an odd but unfailingly sweet and kind vicotrian era gentleman whose also basically immortal and is Bensons’ boss in name only.  The Park Crew spend their days working, or in our main duo’s case trying to get out of work to do anything else,  while dealing with every day issues that would quickly ballon into insanity. Getting pops a birthday present of Fuzzy Dice from a local pizza place ended up with the crew having to fight a bunch of anamatonic animals that were stashing diamonds in there. Trying to get concert tickets involved getting caffine from the nipples of a giant sentient coffee bean in order to stay awake long enough to do the extra work. And Mordecai trying to delete an embrarassing message off his crush Margret’s voice mail lead to him and rigby getting hauled in front of a bunch of a message guardians, one of which is a sentient smoke signal that wanted to burn them while the other replied with “we’ree not going to burn them when have we ever burned anybody”... I love and miss those guys. Oh and it’s resolved by having to playt he embarassing song he sang while said message beings groove to it then ask him to colaberate with them on their album. THis show was on all the drugs and I am all the hear for it. I could go all day obviously but this section is long enough as is, let’s move on. 

Regular Show came at JUST the right time for Cartoon Netowork: Similar to how the 80s doom patrol comic started off really bland and cookie cutter and not at all doom patrol and then grant morrison came in, had hte previous writer kill almost everything, then rebuilt it from scratch with crazy, CN had few shows left and was coming off a really terrible attempt at competeing with NIck and Disney Channel’s live action dommance with a bunch of dude broy reality shows and other ill conceved ideas. The network had a few shows, Total Drama, The Clone Wars which got better and I need to watch those better seasons at some point, but they weren’t enough to make the network thrive again.  SO enter adventure time and regular show: BOth were creative, funny , a bit rough around the ages, and kind of nuts, but both were massive hits: The shows hit almost every demographics sweet spots: Kids like the bright colors, fun designs, and insanity, teens loved the edgy bits of the humor and also the insanity and 20 somethings and older both found refrences they got and loved, and well.. insanity. I mean being fucking nuts but also wonderful is kind of the watchword for most animation nowadays. While in the past in my own head i’ve played down Regular Show’s part in things, after all it came second and had a rough patch I told myself.. but I was wrong. Both shows had a lot of the same elements; insane stuff, great voice acting and good humor especially as they evolved.. but both also evolved in largely the same way and that way helped change animation for the next decade: Both, despite being comeidies, regular show keeping to it a bit more than adventure time did as they evolved, had the characters grow, something a lot of animated comedies didn’t do as much ast the time, even the good ones. THey had season long arcs, things that are now standard features in most cartoons for good reason were MADE standard by these shows. It’s just regular show’s legacy got diluted by shows that TRIED to copy it but both failed to see that it grew past season one or that it’s being okay for kids but really based in adult life and problems meant copycats like fanboy and chum chum, sanjay and craig and breadwinners, all thankfully long dead, eventually sputtered out and died. That and Nick is REALLY shitty at maintaing shows or treating creators with anything resembling respect. Somehow Teen Titans Go is still alive despite having similar failings but you can’t win everything. It didn’t help gravity falls came along right after and proceded to be even more influentail than both of these shows. Hmmm I just realized I haven’t done any gravity falls reviews here.. I gotta get on that. But while the show got eclipsed in quality and popularity I do still think it holds up for the most part as funny, charming and with , for the most part, good character arcs, it’s just that a bit of incosntientcy, some abrubtly done actions and a REALLY fucking terrible arc in season 6 dull the show a bit in comparison to what came after, but I do realize now it’s still worht watching, remembering and laughing at. It may of not been the greatest, but damn it was good.  So with my nostaliga for the show popping up, my faith in it restored, and it’s sucessor showing up in a few days, I decided to do a little something for the ocassion. I WAS going to do a full on review, but had troulbe finding an episode as some of my faviorites are part of a larger arc that was hurt by a later arc, and the show ping ponged between slice of life and utter insanity enought hat it was hard to peg down to jus tone or two episodes. So while I WILL review the show eventually, it has both good and bad episodes needing it, I decided instead to dig out something I hadn’t done in far too long: a top whatver lists! Now while I do get these things are clickbaity, because they are, I.. honestly just love making them. Even if i’ts not for any specific purpose I just love ranking, the stress, even if I normally hate stress given my anxiety, of trying to narrow them down, and the satisfaction of taking a ton of episodes and melting htem down into the best of them. And with a show as long and varied as regular show, If igured this was the best way to show it off before I dived into it eventually. I’ll obviously be doing more top, and bottom lists in the future, but for now this seemd like a godo place to get back to it. As  Now a few more things before we finally get started. Yes I know i’ve gone on for a few years now but i’m almost done. This list is obviously, my opinon. If you disagree fine, and feel free to comment or shoot me an ask about it but I stand by my list and what I choose. I had to boil down over 60 episodes I picked to possibly  be on the list and even after it was down to 40 cuts were really difficult, .. Also just as a quick note there are no episodes from seasons 1, 6, 7 and 8, and that’s not on purpose, as the last two seasons are really good, it just fell out that way and i’m sorry about it. So with that out of the way grabs some sodas and wings, get out your maxi gloves, and bring out your best sentient earworms wearing sunglassses, after the cut I count down the top 10 Regular Show episodes. OOOOOOOOO!

10. I Like You, Hi (Season 5, Episode 26) As you’ll be able to tell by the rest of this list Season 5 is my faviorite, and it’s where I feel the series hit it’s peak before next season lead to it’s valley. It’s got a ton of great episodes, as this list will attest, some great character development, and was still really damn funny.  But what put it over the top for me was the Mordecai and CJ arc. At the end of the last season as you probably know the show wrote out Margret, having her finally get into college like she’d wanted since she got an actual character back in “Camping Be Cool” instead of just being “that hot girl mordecai really likes but is too scared to persue”, and another fantastic episode we’ll be getting to, Mordecai was in position to move on.  Re-Enter CJ. CJ was introduced earlier in the season 3 ep “Yes Dude Yes” which itself is really good, where Mordecai thought margret was engaged and with Rigby’s encouragment, ended up meeting CJ, stands for Cloudy Jay if your curious, a sentient cloud voiced by the wonderful LInda Cardenelli, aka wendy from gravity falls and currently co star of the equally wonderful show Dead to Me. Seriously go check it out on netflix, it’s really good. It naturally went pearshaped since Margret wasn’t engaged, he tried going out with both, she turned into a thunderstorm out of rage... as you do.. it’s like the season 6 plot but less infurating and more understandable.  But the two remeet, and had a kiss on new years while not knowing it’s the other person under am ask.. and then CJ ran and both thought the other was upset: MOrdecai for him being MOrdecai, and CJ for running out on him and agreed to be friends. That didn’t last, though it did give us another classic on this list, as while exes can be friends and all, the two still had something between them. Thus came this one. And it was a hard one as it barely inched out the finale of their relationship arc, Real Date, which had the ceo of a dating company try to break them up and be really damny funny but it’s ulitmatley this one being just as hilarious while being a great character piece that gets it the rub.  As the episode opens Mordecai and CJ have been spending a LOT of time together and i’ts clear there’s a spark there.. but Mordecai insists it’s platonic. And yes there is a bad habit of animation being unable to accept females and males who are into the oppistie sex can’t be friends without being attracted to each other. It’s being cleared up more lately, but as Star Vs showed it still happens sometimes. But it works here: The two STARTED with dating, made out on new years, and are attracted to each other it’s just clear both were in denial about it. It’s not saying “well they have chemstiry so fuck their partners’ like star vs or “if you loved someone once those feelings will return and destroy yoru current relationship” like next season.... season 6′s arc is a tirefire burn it.  But the issue is forced when, while texting about an extreme baking show together while CJ’s at her job at a sports bar, it autocrrects from Yuji, the show’s host, to you hi, sending the title message “I like you, hi”. Mordecai, being even less adept with his feelings and anxiety towards women than me and trust me that’s saying something, spirals and we do get the episodes best scene, narrowly beating out it’s climax, where Mordecai summons a war council.. aka the rest of the main cast minus benson but plus Thomas, the intern who I wish stuck around longer even after he turned out to be a russian spy because they ran out of ideas for him, voiced by Roger Craig Smith and distractingly using his future sonic voice. 

I just.. love everything about the scnee. From the term pulling a mordecai, to Rigby joining in, deservedly as he’s had front row seats for a lot of this bollocks, to everyone’s suggestions especially Muscle Man’s half assed one that somehow, but unsuprisngly, works for him and Starla.  Naturally Mordecai comes up with what Rigby HIMSELF admits is a Rigby level half assed scheme to get an actual photo with Yuji rather than just admit the truth. Yuji himself is an utter delight, having had his star not rise as fast as he’d like thanks to autocorrect and being entirely on board, and when it backfires as MOrdecai ends up autocorrected and sends the message thrice and gets sucked into the phone again, admits i’ts “pretty extreme’. I love the guy and i’m prety sure he showed up again, to my delight. 

In the phone Mordecai meets some old friends, the message guardians who I mentioned in the “insane shit this show has done�� bit earlier: old forms of messaging who police texting, all voiced by Rich Fulcher of the Mighty Boosh and Snuffbox Fame. 

I love Rich and wish these guys could show up in close enough. Maybe they can, I don’t know how rights issues with turner properties work when it comes to two diffrent audiences entirely. Anyways what really makes the episode, besides the great callbacks in this scene, is when confronted with everything going on, Mordecai.. tries to run into the void, with Rigby, The Message Recorder and the Smoke Signal all encouraging him to come back. “There’s nothing out there for you, literally it’s just a blank void”. With the leading tape recorder pointing out from their text history not only how great CJ is but how much he seems to like her with Mordecai finally coming back and admitting the obvious: He does like her.. he’s just scared of beefing it again. Which he does but that’s not the point. Rigby, who as part of his character development helps Mordecai quite a bit with this stuff by being a neutral party, though he also likes CJ better than Margret which is a mood even though I don’t care which one you ship mordecai with frankly, you do you, I have my prefrences. And with that Mordecai finally texts her and asks her out, with her accepting via winky face.. with an added text to clarify it for his neuotic ass.. which is also a mood as my neuortic ass could use that a lot. Overall just a wonderful , hilarious and good bit of character growth.. that season 6 throws in the oven, but that’s a long rant for another day. On it’s own, “I LIke you, hi” is a good character piece for mordecai whlie still being really damn funny. 

9. Thanksgiving Special (Season 5, Episode 15)

Regular Show was really damn great at holliday specials. Their terror tales from the park every halloween were always a nice treat and a good replacement for Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror” which still exists, it’s just no one cares at this point, and their christmas and new years episodes are both really damn good, the first Christmas Episode being in contention for this list even. But to me the best of the best was easily Season 5′s  thanksgiving episode. 

The premise is simple: Mordecai and Rigby accidnetly destroy thanksgiving dinner, which the park crew is having for everyone and their famllies and, refusing to take Benson trying to dismiss their attempts to help fix their mistake, end up joining a songwriting contest to try and win a Turducken.. a natural one that’s born every 1000 Years because this is regular show. To do this they have to beat a parody of everyone’s least faviorite president Donald Trump, Rich Buckner.  The fact that trump was basically the main villian of a holliday special a year before he became president is not lost on me and  is one of the most accurate depections of the man i’ve ever seen. The fact Rich steals the prize despite our boys winning from his blimp with a grappling hook is peak trump. The fact Trump has’nt stolen more things with a grappling hook in real life is only because his hands are too small to use one. 

Getting past our president for my own sanity, the episode also has really great subplots: Muscle Man and Fives go to  a sports bar to get sides and end up pissing off a former football player and getting into a touchdown dance comppetition, sadly not set to the super bowl shuffle, while Benson, Pops and Skips go to get a turkey and end up fighting over it with men dressed up like a piligrim, a first thanksgiving era native american and a turkey, to which they don’t even really give an explination for.. granted most explinatoins on this show are insane but even by regular show standards, this gets none. And I love it for it.  While as you can tell the episode is really damn funny, what really sells it is the emotional core: For once while they do fear for their jobs a bit Mordecai and Rigby’s main motivation in this messup is genuine guilt and wanting to fix their mistake, and they work hard at it, even giving a genuine and awesome heartfelt song that notches itself up with other thanksgiving classics “That thankstiginv themed soul sketch on snl” and adam sandler’s turkey song also from snl. Not a high bar but it’s really good regardless

The episodes’ real strength though is it’s emotional core: For once instead of saving their own asses or understadnably wanting to get one over on the cranky and in the worse written episodes obnoxiously overbearing benson, they simply feel terrible about possibly runing the meal for their arriving parents and everyone elses parents and families and their friends and work to right the wrong. It’s not the first time they worked to do something genuinely good with no benefit to themselves, but it’s probably the best and Benson’s I forgive you, while hilarious is also really sweet. And speaking of sweet

It ends on a really sweet and touching note, as Mordecai and Rigby, after escaping a blimp via a wish on a golden wishbone because of course, make it home to find the various weirdos the park crew met have brought them thanksgiving, and their parents will be there and we get a nice touching ending as the main duo get a well earned toast from Benson. Just an out and out amazing thanksgiving special and a good reminder of what the holiday means.

8. Trucker Hall of Fame (Season 3, Episode 37)

Moving on from Season 5 for a second, Season 3 was where the show really started to hit it’s stride to me. While Season 2 was a nice increase in quality from the sometimes choppy and heavy on “everyone is an asshole” comedy season 1, Season 3 was where the increased focus on the rest of the cast outside of our main duo balloned and what seeds of character were planted in season 2 beautifully bloomed. And this episode is one of the best examples of that.  This one focuses on Muscle Man, who earlier on was basically the main duo’s rival alongside his buddy high five ghost, and kind of a dick. While “Kind of a dick” never left any discription of Mitch Sorenstein, this and previous episode muscle woman showed there was more to the goblin man than we thought. It’s also one of regular show’s few early mostly serious episodes and unlike the benson ones, again this list was tough don’t come at me with a machete, and realy showed why muscle man is the human tire fire he is. The episode introduces, and quickly kills off, muscle dad, mitch’s dad who gave him a love of pranks and was a truck driver who died as he live: mistaking a fake bear for a real one during a prank. Muscle Man being not the most stable person on a GOOD day, spirals, as seen above, and Benson tasks mordecai and rigby, since Fives isn’t good with death ironically and isn’t holding up much better, and as a much later episode shows the two became besties in high school so he probably knew muscle dad for a good ten years so he’s probably not in a great place either, nice stuff, to go with him to put his dad’s ashes in the trucker hall of fame.  What follows is a sweet and damn sad episode. While Mitch’s frequent breakkdowns can be hilarous their also really sad and having lost my grandpa since this episode aired, I can relate to being fine one minute and a total shrieking wreck the next over the smallest thing. But it also shows that Mitch genuinely thinks of our main duo as his friends, and that beneath his testorrone positned exterior he’s a decent guy, being genuinely greatful. Of course being regular show the 3 end up squaring off with some truckers, while Mitch also grappels with the revelation his dad wasn’t one but a forklift opperator who faked being a trucker for his son’s benifit and dleft a tender note in his picture, figuring correctly his son would break it open when he found out... oh and because this show is still nuts his ghost ends up saving them at the end which is really sweet , as mitch decides trucker or no his ashes deserve to be there. Also his ghost shows up again at thanksgiving so apparently he can just come back once in a while, which is nice but dosen’t demnish the bittersweet feeling of this ep. And as I said the show has a good grasp on continuity as this ep marked a turning point for our main duo and muscle man: while the’yve bonded before after this, aside from mitch’s habit of christmas pranks and his faking his death, they really don’t nearly get as annoyed by him ever again. i’ts a sweet touching ride tha’ts uncharacristic of the show’s usual chaos but really works. 

7. A Bunch of Full Grown Geese (Season 4, Episode 19) After a few episodes that were more sentimental on this list, it’s good to get back to some good old regular show madness for this one, which was also the series 100th in production order and is a worthy milestone episode. Season 4 was really good building on the good will from Season 3 and FINALLY having payoff to the margret and mordecai thing, more on that in a bit. Not as much to say as seasons 3 or 5, but it was still spectacular.  The sequel to another ep, fittingly given it’s #100, full grown geese has our duo tasked with removing a bunch of obnoxious geese, with Benson in dick mode refusing to give the two more help, though it does lead to one of the show’s best scenes when he gives his usual your fried threat.. and fitting a milestone episode, Rigby calls him on never going through with it and the threat being as empty as my dreams. Benson responds by going nuts and angrishing them out of his office.. really funny. But yeah with the geese attacking them and , in their first attacking, poor pops, and no way to combat them, the two turn to the baby ducks, a bunch of baby ducks from the episode titled that who show up to help.. and this being the 100th episode of an already grant morrison level nuts show, it turns out the geese seek to conquer earth, voiced by david warner of course and have laser eyes.. and can combine. And the ducks do so again, mecha style, and add in our heroes and a bunch of call backs in one of the series best and most batshit sequences> The ending is also throughly satisfying as while our heroes win, Benson chews them out for tearing up the park in the process.. only for the ducks mom to call him out for not only yelling at the ducks, who are just kids, but at mordecai and rigby after they just saved the park from being a smoldering crater and not just trashed and he backs off. Just a fun episode where the crew just went nuts and the results speak for themselves. 

6. This is My Jam (Season 2, Episode 13)

Now this one I couldn’t NOT include. This is one of the series best even after it’s immense growth, and a beloved classic for a reason. And like the above it’s a good classic case of regular show hyjinks while also being relatable this time: Rigby gets a brainless but catchy pop song from the 90′s stuck in his head and despite growing to hate it, and Mordecai hating it because this episode establishes him as a hipster, and seemingly exercises it.. only for it to manifest as a GIANT CASETTE WEARING SUNGLASSES THAT PLAYS THE SONG JUST BY EXISTING AND DANCES CONSTANTLY. it’s utterly glorious and used to great effect, also annoying benson because he’s constnatly annoyed. To beat it the main duo get the rest of the park’s help at Skips suggestion to form a band and craft an even BIGGER earworm to cast it out. Oh and there’s a great scene where Pops is forced to awkwardly dance with the incarnation of the 90′s “But I won’t use my best moves”.  The climax also has one of Benson’s best moments as, after he’s irritated all episode, he comes in hot, with both the cast and audience expecting him to chew out mordecai and rigby.. only he’s mad because they forgot drums are key to an earworm and saves the day with his drumwork. It’s a great subversion and one of the first times Benson was more than just the angry but understandable, at times, dickhead boss. Just an utter standout and one of the show’s most memorable episodes for a reason. Also the line “you can’t touch music but music can touch you’ is great. 

5. Meteor Moves ( Season 4, Episode 28)

This one was a long time coming and to me is a great example of writers taking their own shortcomings and making something awesome out of them. I prefer that: instead of just retconning away bad writing use it as a tool.. I try to do that myself when possible. See early in the show as you all probably know, Mordecai’s crush on Margret was just a plot device: he had a crush on the cute waitress at the coffee shop so they used it to get him to do things. A gratioutis shot of her in bike shorts got him to bet all computer rights for life that sort of thing. The show.. wasn’t great with female characters till season 3 and even as it grew, as season 6 and just.. forgetting to give CJ a proper ending as a character shows, still grappled with it. It took writer Kat Morris saying “no no stop go to jail” to them wanting ot make CJ a difficult woman type, whatever horrifying thing that is. I don’t want to know, let’s move on. The point is it wasn’t till season 3 that Margret and her best friends, and Rigby’s future wife, Eileen got fleshed out a bit: Eileen got smarter and turned out to be good at wilderness stuff while Margret was chill, nice, if annoyed by the chaos around mordecai, and funloving, while also having a clear goal in stark contrast to her future boyfriend: going to college. Even after coming back it was botha fter finsihing college and to start a career. It wasn’t incredibly deep, but it made me not be ehhh to her mere existance like before. The show also started developing her and Mordecai’s relationship seriously with the two bonding and the previously shown Butt Dial showing for the first time, after previously having a terrible taste in men and then just not noticing his crush, that she was receptive to how mordecai felt. And the two had several moments and two dates even, it just.. never went anywhere for some reason.

And this was INFURATING to me: See back then shows had a tendency to just pop in love intrests SOLEY for plot fuel like margret with no intention of following through with things either through rejection or a relationsihp upgrade and by then I was sick of it. The whole spike and rarity thing in MLP (which to be clear I wanted her to just reject him but nope, even after I stopped watching she never did. ), Isabella and Phineas. I was fed up so I went from being “eh” about it to annoyed supremely.. but the thing is the writers realized this.. and course corrected. The first step was picking up Margret, where Mordecai agrees to pick her up to get her to the airport for a college interview and we get a nice deconstruction of things as Margret is anticpatiing things going wrong, and wrongly blames Mordecai for it.. I mean it is his fault sometimes but half the time weird shit just follows him. However she’s won over by him working past it, getting her there in time and kisses him.  That blew me away and made me think well it’s finally here.. and it was.. ALMOST. However the creators wisely, if frustratingly to past me, took one more episode to iron it out: Metor Moves has the two growing closer, and semi-going out, but Rigby pops mordecai’s bubble pointing out he never actually made a boyfriend girlfriend move and her move could’ve gone either way. So Mordecai , after seasons of being wishy washy and awkward, finally decides to go for it as he, rigby, eileen and margret go to a metor shower.  Being Regular Show it dosen’t go as planned as his attempted kiss is blocked by the guardians of the friend zone.. which is a real, phantom zone esque place here and that’s just fantastic. And it’s also clearly mocking the hell out of the concept, which is dumb. if you want to ask someone out just do it, I learned that the hard way. And if you really are friends, if she says no then you’ll accept it and keep a friend anyway as I have. But it’s clearly parodying it and Mordecai get sreplayed all the times he ALMOST made a move but didn’t but refuses to accept this clusterfuck, realizes he was a screwup when it came to this.. and kisses her.. and this time the two enter a relationship> Granted it barely lasted but still, it was nice while it did and this ep is just great for it. While not the funniest, it’s up this high because it took somethign the show did wrong.. and turned it on it’s head and into a character flaw and had mordecai grow past it, with a genuinely romantic moment on top as well as an utterly funny and batshit concept. It also had some Rigleen, as by this point rigby stopped being a hateful wastebasket to her and warmed up to her, and I regret there’s no reigleen episodes on this list. Their the shows best couple and utterly adorable. Just wanted to mention that at least once this list. 

4. Laundry Woes (Season 5, Episode 1) From the begining to the end. While sadly Morderet didn’t last too long in canon, which blows, it did give us some great episodes while it lasted, as with the above entry and their breakup in Steak Me Amedeus. As mentioned before Margret left for college, which while abrupt feeling did pave the way for great stories: The Mordejay arc mentioned above and that will pop up again very soon, This was one of them: the ep while lacking on laughs is a good emotional rollercoaster and starts with an amazing montage that catches us up from the end of season 4: Mordecai is miserable, as you’d expect and wallowing in it with Benson, of all people, letting him. And given Benson seems to have a heart attack any time Mordecai and Rigby aren’t working, that’s huge. But eventually his friends refuse to let it go on and in a really touching montage help him through it, taking him out places, giving him good times and eventually.. the fog starts to lift and he starts to enjoy himself and by the end.. he’s himself again. It’s one of the series best sequences, told with no dialouge and showing just how far the rest of the cast had come: Benson actually wants to comfort mordecai but is encouraged not to at first, underfstandably as it probably woudlnt’ help, and a crew that were once, aside from Pops who much like Krillin is everyone’s friend, just coworkers who barely tolerated each other, and are now close as family and help their own in need.  But Grief isn’t a straight line and just as Mordecai’s recovering he’s sent spiraling when he finds Margret’s sweater and uses ita s a flimsy excuse to go return it. It’s here I also get to talk about Rigby, who grew from an impatient idiot who hated Mordecai’s romantic endevors and actively sabtoaged them at times, to an understandting wing man who, while understandably frustrated with his best friend’s own idiocy with women, turned out to know more and be the wise council he needed, triggering both is relationships and only bailing out during the season 6 clusterfuck and even then was there to comfort him after it was all over and go to his aid to pull him out of another misery hole. And here he gives Mordecai the hard truth: He shoudln’t do this, it’s just going to tear both him and margret up again and he just put himself back together. He’s not going to let his best friend do this to himself. And while there is a supernatural elment, the sweater comes to life and tries to get Mordecai to force margret back with him and give up college, likely voicing his darkest wants that he hates himself for wanting, but it feels more like a manfiestation of Mordecai’s own issues than the usual madness. Like “Trucker hall of Fame”, a rare senntence, it’s a less funny packed more grounded episode. And in the end it’s mordecai himself, after rejecting the ghost sweater and seeing his ex truly happy , that gets him to NOT talk to her and just.. let it go. IT’s a good emotional episode and SHOULD HAVE BEEN the end of their relationship... but i’ve ranted about the cheating storyarc enough here, moving right along. 

3. Portable Toilet (Season 5, Episode 16) Back to the Mordejay arc. And yes this arc is my faviorite and while I didn’t make it clear at the time I really shipped the two, even before it became canon. I had nothing against morderet, these two simply had more chemistry and these episodes built CJ up as more of a character than Margret was at the time. It’s why that later arc sucks so much to me: it destroys a perfectly good relationship and story arc for dumb reasons and never really did enough with it to justify doing so. I’ll get to it some day, or if someone comissions it soone rthan some day, but as you can tell i’m still sore over it and great eps like this are part of the reason why. It’s the same reason i’m sore on how Tom was handled on star vs. But as you can also tell as bitter and lemon scented as I am.. these eps are still objectivley great and thus took up a third of the list basically.  Case in point Portable Toilet, which zooms back a bit to when neither would admit they were into each other but were now friends at least. Also Eileen was CJ”s friend now because plot convience. I mean they worked, and it bothers me a lot that the creators claim cj washed her hands of her even though she’s not the one who made out with margret... which come to think of it adding her to rigleen.. not a bad idea. I mean Rigby didn’t really like margret true, but they did almost go out before mordecai killed him and then reset time because Mordecai’s always kinda sucked. I’ll file that away for later. But my new OTP aside, I did like the two bonding and what not.  Anyways with their outside park friend/RIgby’s future girlfriend now friends with Mordeai’s future girlfriend the four have apparently been hanging out which, while i’ve bemoaned off screen stuff at times, works here and regular show uses it better than most shows. While Rigby can clearly see Mordecai and CJ are into each other Mordecai is as we covered in denial and while that dosen’t really progress here, it does lead to one of teh shows finest hours. When talking would you rathers, CJ semi-flirtly dares Mordecai to eat his lunch sandwitch in a portable toilet, which he agrees to and drags a reluctant rigby along for. This being regular show, it goes south fast as the two get stuck, with Rigby’s clautrophiba kicking in leading to an amazing exchange Mordecai; Dude that makes no sense! Rigby: You’s makes no sense! While our dynamic duo try to get mordecai and rigby out the two are carted away and repalced with a new portable toilet, a deluxe one. Also we get another great bit when our dynamic duo find Muscle man, in a robe with choclate’s claming “Eileen, other girl, this isn’t weird” before screaming “This isn’t weird”. Turns out old portable toilets are taken to be blown up by the miltary and we get one of the shows best one off characters in the general, who not only explains it as “toilets being about the same size as the enmy” but when told he should call the president says “the preseident is not my father i’ll blow up as many toilets as I want.”. Spectacular. So now it’s a scramble for one twosome to rescue the other, Rigby lets out a cathartic “THANK YOUUU MORDECAI” over the flirty toilet dare, and the day is saved> This one is another pure comedy one, even if it ties into a plot I really like, and i’ts gold for obvious reasons and manages to take blowing up porta poties, a premise that dosen’t seem that funny, and make it utter comedic gold. Speaking of pure comic episodes that are utterly insane...

2. Cool Bikes (Season 3, Episode 7)

This one feels like regular show boiled down to it’s core: semi-relabtale hyjinks dovetalling into pure madness. And the premise sounds like a shit post i’d make: Mordecai and Rigby want benson to admit their cool and get into progressively weird outfits and tricks to their bycycles to do so, eventually becoming so cool their put on trial by the council of cool , ending up having to make a runner when Benson finally breaks down and admits it.  The premise is utterly stupid in the best way possible, with the conflict being the kind of petty bullshit we all get into from time to time with our aquantinces: not wanting to admit something and loose the argument withthings escalating. And in regular show terms it escalate sperfectly into the entire unvierse being threatned adn our heros being on trial for their lives. There’s not much to say here, it’s just pure comedic gold with a premise that just works. It also has good moments for Benson with his finally admitting they are cool and saving the duo’s lives whne he realized he just gave them a death sentence. Utter fun. And now we come to the finale, my faviorite episode...

1. Dodge This (Season 5, Episode 15) 

Yup this arc again. But this one has more than my ship going for it, and it’s why it soared to the top: It takes the excellent character work of other episodes and weaves it with excellent comedy to create an utter delight and the episode I remember most fondly and most often. It’s just great. The second part of the Mordeijay arc, not counting yes dude yes, the episode is half that and half sports movie: The Park Guys have been taking part in dodgeball as a team bulding thing and it shows how far Benson’s come as he not only praises mordecai, and launches the mordecai and benson ship in the process, but gives his team full wings and his full support, a far cry from his usual self. It’s also the first big instance of him getting hammered on wings and it’s glorious to see drunk flirty benson.  Benson is also genuinely congratulatory to the team’s ace mordecai, and most of them realy for b eing valuable and hopes to win this year.  IN their way are two things: The magical elements, aka the floating baby heads that gave skips his immortality, his friend with sparkly eyes who works for them and death himself whose a recurring character and fucking great and who were their bowling rivals too. The other is CJ is back, and Benson in another good moment actually talks mordecai through it and his nerves over it assuring him. So we get a great sports piece as our heroes work through various callbacks and even beat the magical elements iwth Rigby’s hilarious and rediculous rignado manuver, which is as dumb as it sounds and winged a guy hilaroiusly before with Benson scolding him like a toddler.  Of course it ends up with Mordecai and CJ against each other, both incredibly awkard over things as mentioned before, and both ending up in a stalmate that magical dodgeball guardians have to resolve because, let’s do this one last time. IT’S REGULAR SHOW. We do get a good moment though as the two work through their awkwardness: both thinking the other is rightfully mad: Mordecai for his two timer date with her and Margret and CJ for running out without talking to mordecai after they had a moment on new years. The both work past it, the park strikers loose,benson likely gets hammered again off screen.. it’s a good one and I have no shame in putting it at number one. It’s got heart, really great jokes, and some good charcter stuff, not to the level of other episodes on this list, but it wasn’t a full episode of that like those were and still works to move the plot forward and is still a classic. Just a fun, breezy, well done epsidoe fully rooted in the cast’s characters and getting laughs out of that.. mostly benson.  And with that this giangantic list comes to a close> I hope you enjoyed it, if you liked it follow me for more. I’ll be doing close enough coverage every week, as well as amphibia and owl house among other reviews. Until we meet again, later days. 

[bill-the-baker]

I’ve also decided to finish this decade with something more light-hearted, detailing the many trends that one can associate with the past ten years. I styled this picture in a similar fashion to those gaudy collages you have relating to the 1980s and 1990s, with this mainly being reflected in the style of this picture. The title of the picture holds a very minimalist design, and is shown from inside a phone, whilst the rest of the poster has a dull white background. These main design choices were added to reflect the omnipresence of smartphones in this decade, as well as the general trend of Minimalism, which has been followed by many companies in recent years. The decision to make the background seem plain was not completely because I’m feeling lazy, but because I tried to follow the trend of minimalism, a trend I personally hate because of how boring it is (I probably would have added in a pretty pattern if there was some other major design trend).

Beyond this though, there are a few other things I chose to add in to reflect the 2010s:

-Ragecomics- The basis of most early-2010s memes.

-Skrillex (or rather Dubstep in general)- A key figure in a genre of music that you either loved or hated.

-Obama- A fantastic President who laid the groundwork for change that will hopefully be built upon in the future.

-Hipster culture- Fresh-out-of-college rich kids who made avoiding the mainstream a mainstream trend.

-The Occupy Movement (“We are the 99%” sign)- A promising post-Great Recession movement with disappointing results.

Gay Rights- Gay marriage is now legal in places like the United States, and homosexuality is more accepted the western world, so much so that companies are now no-longer afraid to pander to them whenever June comes around. Still, other parts of the planet have yet to change their outdated ways.

Trans rights- With people like Caitlyn Jenner and Leelah Alcorn, Transgenderism has arrived into the forefront of social issues, though it remains a strongly divisive issue throughout the decade.

Drones- Like helicopters but smaller and cheaper.

Overwatch- An interesting game that offered a unique personality to the shooter genre in a decade oversaturated with annual Call of Duty releases.

Cuphead- A challenging run-and-gun platformer with a Golden-Age animation-style, showcasing what can be made through video games these days.

Minecraft- The game that doesn’t die. It defined the childhoods of many gamers who fondly remember the early-2010s, and has since made a major resurgence in the decade’s end.

Steven Universe- A much-loved show that offered many unique and progressive themes, which I can admire despite my mixed feeling for the show itself.

Gravity Falls- A show aimed at children didn’t have to be this immersive and interesting, but Alex Hirsch and his team did it anyway and offered the world two seasons of hilarious and yet gripping television.

Political correctness/Woke-ness (“That’s Offensive” speech bubble)- Something that has been pushed to death among the political mainstream, but especially by the Left, as people are silenced whilst others demand safe spaces to keep their precious feelings from being hurt. Political correctness is a somewhat-trend that is better off staying in this decade.

Shrek- Whilst the 2010s have been starved of a new Shrek film besides the contested “Shrek Forever After”, the “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” greentext story, despite its crude subject matter, has made the brutish but kind ogre a mainstay in meme culture, whilst offering people the opportunity to explore the nuances of the franchise, after growing up with the character.

Pewdiepie- Starting out strong in the decade, making a name for himself as “that funny Swedish guy who screams as scary games”, an incident in February 2017, in which he was called a Nazi by the mainstream media, resulted in him becoming a more independent and politically incorrect figure, before going on to unite the internet in a battle for the most subscribed YouTube channel against a corporation. He lost in the end, but it was fun while it lasted.

Tyler, the Creator- Offering a unique sound among waves of forgettable Pop music, Tyler evolved from an edgy but somewhat humorous rapper, to an interesting and poignant singer in this past decade, achieving near-mainstream success.

Marvel Cinematic Universe (Endgame logo)- Many mainstream cinemagoers are bound to have seen at least one of these groundbreaking movies in cinemas, with their intense action and perfectly balanced humour, all culminating in the outstanding films “Avengers: Infinity War” and “Avengers: Endgame”.

Death Grips- Unlike anything that has ever been popular among general audiences, the exciting tunes concocted by MC Ride and Zach Hill have remained in the minds of many younger and more alternative individuals.

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic- Arguably the most unlikely of fanbases to come around in this decade, this re-imagining of an 80s cartoon series had a style of humour and storytelling that peaked the interests of a group of adult men known as “Bronies”, who’s reasons for being interested were questioned and much of the internet hated them, but they were certainly something to behold throughout these years.

The 2016 Presidential Election (Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump)- A time many can regard as the branching-off point between the first and second halves of the decade, as the extremes of both sides were exposed to the world with astonishing results.

Vine- A social media platform that has since disappeared off the face of the Earth, but brought about many notable celebrities and memes that are often remembered by younger generations.

Vaporwave- Alongside Hipsters, Vaporwave was perhaps one of the few examples of a concrete “counter-culture” movement, offering an anti-Capitalist message within its use of music and iconography from the 1980s and 1990s. Since then, it is best known for offering a warm and interesting “aesthetic”.

Pepe the Frog- A frog best known for saying “Feels Good Man” earlier on, was later used by certain Right-wingers and has since been touted as a symbol of hat. But, with a smug grin like that, it appears that he doesn’t seem to care about what others say.

Social media- It already played a massive role from the mid-2000s-onwards, but now, the scale of social media has grown exponentially, with people moving away from mainstream news and entertainment and instead choosing to get their kicks on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and YouTube. This focus on gaining the news from social media has held some negative consequences as fake news continues to fool gullible Boomers.

Hyperbeast fashion- In terms of fashion, the Hypebeast is the late-2010s’ version of the Hipster, though unlike Hipsters, who are financially-independent rich kids who make questionable purchasing decisions, Hypebeasts are often preteen/teenagers who suck money out of the credit cards of their rich parents.

Adventure Time- A rather interesting cartoon that started off as a fun show to get high to, but evolved into a gripping epic with an expansive lore and interesting world.

Minions- While they were rather annoying to older viewers following their introduction in the otherwise top-tier film Despicable Me, children and especially 40-something year-old Facebook Mums couldn’t get enough of these wacky tic-tacs.

Brexit- A subject that I, as a Brit, couldn’t seem to get away from in the past few years, as politicians refused to move forward with the people’s decision. But, with the Tory majority in Parliament, as depressing as that sounds, it seems possible that we can finally move on as a country to more important matters.

Vaping (Juul-smoking mouth)- Recovered chain-smokers and rebellious teens have made this trend a popular pastime, though its popularity has waned recently over health concerns.

Doge- Whilst it began as a singular image of a cartoonish-looking Shiba Inu making a weird face, as brightly-coloured Comic Sans surrounds her, this dog has become the subject of many surreal and unique memes, taking on many different forms, solidifying the transformative nature that all memes should strive for.

Hoverboards, Fortnite, Dabbing, and Fidget Spinners (The monstrosity on the bottom-right)- What do a handle-less Segway, a more cartoony (but somewhat better) version of PUBG, a dance based off of post drug-taking sneezes and small bits of metal for Autistic children have in common? They have all ascended to levels of annoying trends that at least some people have had fun with.

Undertale (Sans)- An interesting game that has gained a heavy degree of fame for its interesting themes and interesting characters, some of which have been admired a bit too much by certain teenage girls.

As for my personal experiences of this decade, I can say that, whilst I was born in the early-2000s, I was definitely raised in the 2010s. Much of my memories of the previous decade are rather minimal, and I didn’t follow that many trends considering I only lived on constant repeats of SpongeBob by the start of this decade. Since then, though I have gained many impactful memories from these past few years. Some good, some bad, some great, all of which were a part of growing up. In about two-weeks’ time, I will finally become a legal adult, and shall begin the rest of my life. So, I wish you all well, and hope your Twenties are truly roaring!

[whoslaurapalmer]

L, R, M, and N!!

L: Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging towrite?

and I’vewritten pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones had mein regular agony for the month I was writing it. constant. constantanxiety. to try and get intothat mindset of someone breaking up with someone they love so muchbecause of Just How Life (And Spy-Adjacent Stuff) Happens Sometimesand the details about all the love and heartbreak, ithurt!! I was also thinking of my own ill-fated romance-relatedwriting that I did in high school while listening to that particulardecemberists song, so there was. old background emotion going on,too.

anytime I write laura is also emotionally challenging, just by thenature of writing laura??? like. there’s a lot of my brain in laurabut there’s also so much about laura that isn’tin my life and to get through all that, to keep in mind everythingabout her, it’s a bigweight. not a bad weight but just, you’re dealing with heavy thingsand trying to get it right.

R: Which writers(fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on youand your writing?

ren’s meta and thepeaks chat in general has helped inform a lotof the way that I view peaks. like there are certainly thoughts of myown that I’ve stuck to, because I look down on my own analysissometimes and I shouldn’t because some of it was fine!, and Istarted watching it knowing that I was getting involved in somethingthat was really heavy, but it took a while for certain things toclick and to understand all of the vulnerability being asked and someof the character or theme nuances that I didn’t get right away. andreading all that helped but sometimes I worry that I rely on it toomuch and I don’t think about the series enough myself, but, that’s,an entirely different problem, but something that I am also consciousof here

in sad lemon man, Idefinitely would not ship lemonberry ice without having seen it onsara’s blog, also reasonably positive that some tiny headcanons Ihave like beatrice wearing glasses and kit getting the family intovfd are from her, and just in terms of like top-notch content thatlined up with how I saw the series and expanded on things I wasalready thinking, 100% sara. anytime sara or ren reblog somethingfrom me I still get so thrilled. I feel like I’ve made it…………….

non-fanfic wise,leigh bardugo and danhan are writers that I greatly admire and that Itry to glean worldbuilding/backstory and deep gutting emotion from,respectively, because those are the things I think they do the bestand what I respect in their work. and no one writes ‘I will workthrough trauma and by god I will be okay!!!!!!!!!!’ like natsukitakaya. fruits basket is ingrained in my soul and pops up in mywriting when I least expect it.

M: What’s theweirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into astory?

parent trap au.hands-down. and if you count ‘I posted the 22k outline’ as ‘itturned into a story’ then HELL YEAH

other than that, myAU ideas are kind of??? chill????? not really weird??? mostly justrole reversals or modern AUs or what if I combined this book and thismovie or this book and that book, most of which are notas wild as parent trap au. I try to keep it. reasonable. over here.especially after all the weird AUs I wrote in middle school. I reinmyself in a lot. (although I still did once say ‘arthur + sugarbowl gen’ but admitted arthur was already a really modern AU ofthem anyway and went no further.)

living a quietexistence, deep in my laptop, is the….almost 100-page outline/notesof my gravity falls/peaks AU. (not that that’s necessarily weird,because of all the similarities, but, also kind ofweird? as sailorleo once said, ‘don’t think about it too hard.’)there’s some great, great stuff in there but I just….the older Igot, the more I looked at it, the less okay I was with some of thestuff I’d written??? it originated in like the end of the ‘causedipper pines a decent amount of pain and suffering, honestly morethan he experienced in canon in the first place’ era of tumblr,even if in the outline it was very subconscious and not on purposeand I did try to make it flow well, and when I thought aboutit after graduating college and gravity falls was over, I just didn’tlike it and couldn’t commit to another way to write it (although Idid have quite a few scenarios, I just, didn’t.). a lot of goodnotes, though. I still think about certain scenes. some of the themesI did manage to hit pretty well.

this is sure aStatement to make, but relevant to the question, but that AU wasactually how i will get there came to be and I will have to beasked specifically for thatbackground story to reveal it

N: Any fic ideasbrewing that you’d care to share?

beyond my current active wips (laura fic, and like idk seven sadlemon man ones what is time or life) –

-thismay actually fall under ‘weird AU’ but I want to write. for sadlemon man. and I have brought this up afew times before I’m justvery excited for it. gustav sebaldfound footage AU. I knowlike….40% of how it’ll go. I need to do some foundfootage/horror-ish research but I know EXACTLY thekind of stuff I want for it,I just haven’t had the time to get into it. andhorror is not my natural vibe at ALL, notby ANY MEANS, but it issomething I’ve been trying to figure out.

-youknow those two teenage cashiers when sarah palmer buys the vodka ins3???? I want to write about them. Iwant to write about them so bad. theyhave names!!! they’re on their nametags!!! they aren’t in thecredits, though!!!! their names are oscar and victoria and I hopethey’re okay!!!!! ifI was like, up on my tulpa game I would write it like that becauseof how much they look like coop and laura but my notes are reallyjust about them living in town.

-thisisn’t brewing necessarily but sometimes I want to write 1944 laurashenanigans but sam I actually still have your fic on my desk and youhit allthe themesI would want to write about and I love it

[thegoldendice]

Love Is A Battlefield

Fandom - American Horror Story 1984

Pairing - Xavier Plympton/Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - Suicide, Violence, Mental Heath Issues, Sexual Content, Language, Religious Content

Chapter - 7/12

Read on - ao3, ff.net

Fic Summary - The year is 1984. You're a poor student living alone in L.A., plagued by your problematic relationships with a false friend and a disturbed ex. You meet Xavier Plympton, an aerobics instructor with a dark past, at the gym where you’ve taken a reception job. You quickly develop feelings for him, and you learn to your relief that he likes you too. Soon a deadly series of events befall you and the people in your life. Overwhelmed by tragedy and with your blossoming romance cut short, you are left a wreck. Six years later you discover that while Xavier is dead, he hasn’t quite departed. You soon realise that if you are to be with him and finally achieve true peace and happiness, you must take your own life and become a Camp Redwood ghost.

Chapter Summary - You can't ignore your feelings for Xavier, despite the fact that he is a murderer and a ghost. A plan begins to take form in your mind when you are required to contemplate a future without him.

“Death is an art, and I have become a master. My entire existence is wrapped up in it. Can’t you see?” Xavier sighs in exasperation.

You watch him standing across from you in the dilapidated old cabin. His hands rest on his hips impatiently. He always had a fondness for the theatrical. Clearly, he still can't resist a poetic turn of phrase, even at the most inappropriate of times. Your heart gives a squeeze at the knowledge that he hasn't changed entirely. The very next second a wave of nausea threatens to spill over within you.

The man you love is a killer. No matter how many alarmingly familiar character traits he has been able to maintain, that fact will always be true.

“Xavier, how can you be so callous?” Your voice quivers. “You’ve murdered people.”

“Not many people.” Xavier murmurs under his breath.

“Jesus, Xavier... enough!” You are yelling now. “I can’t handle this. I feel like my heart is breaking!”

You take a final look at him, then make your way to the far end of the cabin. You need to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the ghost of your dead darling. Quiet sobs rack your body as you throw yourself into a chair facing the blank back wall. You should leave, but you can’t. The knowledge that some portion of Xavier is here, despite what he has become, roots you to this damnable place.

It’s the middle of the night and the temperature has dropped dramatically. You realise that you’re shivering and cast around for a blanket, but there are none at this end of the cabin. You almost jump out of your skin when you feel a cool hand on your shoulder.

“You’re cold.” Xavier’s voice is thoughtful, as though he is trying to remember a time when temperature mattered to him. “Here...”

You hear him pick up his discarded jacket and place it around your shoulders. Clutching it to you, you stand and turn to face him. His expression is full of distress.

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry for how I spoke. I’m not used to being with someone... alive. I'm sorry for murdering innocent people.” Xavier's face crumples as he struggles to meet your eyes. ”You must hate me.” His shoulders slump forward as he stares at the creaking floor. Despite everything, it hurts you to see the tragic look on his face.

“No Xavier.” You place a finger under his chin and lift his head. His watery gaze latches onto yours. “I could never hate you. It’s crazy because I know what you’ve done, what you’ve become, but... I love you.”

A tiny speck of hope flickers within Xavier’s gaze. You watch it fizzle out as he fights to subdue it.

”No. You can’t love me. It's impossible. I don't deserve love.” He takes a step back, raising his arms to stop you from following. ”You have to leave. Wait until morning and then go, get away from here. You have a life to live.”

An incredulous laugh escapes you.

”What life, Xavier?” you struggle to control the volume of your voice. ”I spend most of my time wishing I was dead! Haven't you realised it by now after everything I've told you? My life ended when yours did!”

Tears swell in your eyes, blurring your vision. You feel more than ever the dull ache that constantly resides within you. You shut your eyes and bring your hands up to wipe away the moisture on your cheeks. Blinking back more tears, you realise that Xavier is standing in front of you once more. He's so close you can hear his quick, needless breaths. You long for him, wishing only to collapse into his arms.

”Xavier...” you whimper.

He closes in on you, grabbing the back of your head and pulling it forward to meet his in a crushing kiss. The breath is forced out of your body as he sweeps you off your feet. Carrying you as if you are newly-weds about to cross a threshold, Xavier makes his way to the bed, seating you on the ancient mattress. His eyes bore into yours and you realise that he is as desperate to possess you as you are him. He crawls on top of you, pressing you down with his weight. You wrap your limbs around his body as he begins to kiss you again. Already you can feel his hardness pressing into your thigh as he grinds against you.

Panting out of habit, Xavier sits back to remove his shirt. You grapple with the jacket he gave you, taking it off and throwing it to the floor while you struggle to control your breathing. You come face to face with Xavier's naked torso, his body tense as a coiled spring. You can't resist tracing his stomach muscles with your tongue. You work your way upwards, taking one of his nipples into your mouth and sucking hard. Xavier groans, grasping your chin and pulling your head up as gently as his arousal will allow. You kiss him fiercely as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants, yanking them down.

As soon as Xavier’s cock is free you pounce, desperate to taste it. You briefly register the fact that, like the scent of his hairspray and cologne, there is barely any trace of a smell or a flavour. You realise you don't really care. Xavier kneels before you as you bend over, cross-legged, working him with your hands and your mouth.

”Oh fuck.” Xavier moans. ”That feels unbelievable.”

You lick his length and gently scrape your teeth across the tip. You follow your instincts, having had very little experience with this particular feat. Xavier's hands are in your hair, massaging your scalp.

”Y/n, stop. You have to stop.”

You let Xavier’s cock fall free from your mouth as you look up at him. Your lips feel swollen.

”I thought you liked it?” You are subdued, suddenly self-conscious.

“I did! Trust me, I did, but I want to fuck you Y/n, so badly.”

The raw longing in Xavier’s voice sends a thrill through your body. You nod in agreement and he moves back, enabling you to swiftly remove the rest of your clothing. His gaze rakes your naked body in the same way you observe him, both of you hungry but tentative.

”I haven't done this since the last time, with you.” You admit.

If Xavier is surprised, he doesn't show it.

”We can go slow.” He says gently, the heat of the moment before simmering inside him. He reaches for your hand and you pull him back towards you as you lie down. His kisses on your lips are soft as he settles between your thighs. You inhale sharply as you feel him push a finger into you, the wonderful sensation remarkably familiar.

”Are you okay?” Xavier whispers, his eyes searching your expression.

”I’m fine, don't stop.”

Xavier removes his finger. You feel him rest the head of his cock against your opening. He kisses you again and pushes himself inside you. A low moan escapes your lips as your body responds to the sensation of being filled. Xavier proceeds with delicate movements which give way to powerful ones when your knees dig into his sides, indicating that you are ready for more. Xavier's tongue dances against your own as you succumb to the passion of the moment, reaching down between your body and his to brush a finger over your clit.

You continue to rub yourself, edging closer to your peak as Xavier thrusts into you. A cacophony of sounds escape you both as you become reacquainted with each other's bodies. You feel your inner walls contract as heat spreads through you, crying out when your orgasm hits. You grip Xavier’s shoulders and kiss him frantically as he follows you to his own end, pouring his essence inside you with a final, grinding push. Tears, which seem to hover just under the surface since your arrival at the camp, appear in your eyes again as the gravity of what has happened washes over you.

”Hey, hey, don't cry Y/n, don't cry.” Xavier croons. He remains within you, brushing your hair from your face in concern. ”Did I hurt you?” he asks, troubled.

”No, I'm not hurt.” You rush to reassure him. ”I just feel overwhelmed. This is not normal, Xavier.”

”You can say that again.” Xavier chuckles dryly, without humour. He kisses your forehead and rolls off of you, draping a protective arm across your body. ”Do you regret what we've done?”

”No.” You respond instantly. You don't need to consider his question. You don't regret what has happened, however, you do understand deep in your heart that your fate is now sealed. You can never leave him - if that was ever really an option.

”Do you?” You watch Xavier’s face, trying to read his expression.

”No Y/n. I don't. I love you.” He sighs, disturbing the stray strand of his otherwise perfect hair, the one that fell out of place during your lovemaking. ”But what the fuck are we going to do now? It's not like you can live here with me.”

You watch Xavier for several minutes as he stares off into space, absent-mindedly stroking the bare skin of your arm. Your heart is more full, more alive, than you can ever remember it feeling. You shiver slightly as your body temperature begins to decrease. Xavier notices and grabs the flimsy blanket, draping it over your body and tucking it around you. You know that you have made your decision. You suspect that deep down you decided the minute Xavier told you what was happening to the people who perished here at Redwood. You just need to work up the courage to tell him your plan. You swallow down your fear and breathe deeply.

”I could live here with you Xavier. We could be together forever... If I died.”

[mysterylover123]

My Top 10 Halloween Episodes

mysterylover123

Happy Halloween Everyone! 

I’ve been rewatching my favorite shows’ Halloween episodes as a means to prepare for the holiday (and get ideas for things to do!) and I’ve decided to compile a list of my Top 10 favorites. These are the episodes I consider the best, the most packed with spooky goodness and Halloween surprises, of all the shows I’ve seen. Let me know if there’s one I should check out!

#10. The Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror V”

“NO TV AND NO BEER MAKE HOMER SOMETHING SOMETHING.” “GO CRAZY?” “DON’T MIND IF I DO!”

While I do wish Simpsons had stopped at Season 10 like most, I can still acknowledge its absolute mastery of the Halloween episode with this annual anthology. And like most, I can also concede that the best of the best, the creme-de-la-creme, is the 5th one: The Shinning parody of course, first and foremost, is absolutely classic and deservedly so. Having recently endured a week without power, and thus NO TV AND NO...NOT BEER BUT COFFEE...I totally get where  Homer is coming from. The other two segments, and other Halloween eps, are also strong as well. But you can’t have a proper TOP 10 HALLOWEEN EPS list without a Treehouse of Horror. So here it is!

#9. Spectacular Spider-Man The Uncertainty Principle”

“Twas the night before Halloween, and no folks were stirring, not even Green Gob...lan.”

Spidey is one of the few superheroes with both the whimsical roster of characters and the appropriately spooky rogues gallery to make for great Halloween episodes. While Spider-Man and his amazing friends in 1981 started out with it’s own Goblin Halloween ep, my nod has to go to Spectacular’s ‘Uncertainty Principle’, a suitably creepy episode featuring all the stuff you want around this holiday. The cast in whacky costumes, spooky decor, and creepy plotlines about the Green Goblin and the arrival of the Symbiote. It’s even more horrifying in hindsight when you find out what’s really going on in the series finale...but for itself, it’s a suitably spooky time. Also, Spider-Man dressed as Spider-Man for Halloween.

#8. Angel “Life of the Party”

“Some are saying it’s an even better ritual sacrifice than the one last year.”

The absolute master of the Halloween episode is uncontrovertibly the Buffy-verse. I have 3 entries on this list alone, and it was hard to resist including a forth. But for now, let’s start out with Angel’s sole incursion into the Halloween genre, an Office Party ep from their 5th season. Spoiler alert: Season 5 is about Team Angel taking over Wolfram and Hart and trying to use it for good. The Halloween party there is a big deal and Lorne is going nuts from planning it. Consequently, we get a wild ride of demon guests, LorneHulk, Team Angel doing crazy things, and whacky Halloween decor. Spike smiling and partying out like a loon is definitely worth htetheprice of admission.

#7. Friends “The One w/ the Halloween Party”

“I am a woman who spent a ton of money on this dress and wants to wear it until she is too big to fit into it.”

I had actually never seen the Friends Halloween episode until this year. I definitely enjoyed it; the cast’s costumes are funny, the various Halloween antics are adorable - especially Rachel being pushed around by candy-randy kids - and the Halloween-y atmosphere is quite convivial. Though as a comic book nerd, I must point out how completely absurd Joey’s suggestion of ‘who would win, Catwoman or Supergirl’ being Catwoman. Like, seriously? A nonpowered thief vs a freaking Kryptonian? Even people who don’t read comic books should know the answer to that one! Were people in the year 2001 really that clueless? But anyway, on a more somber note, this was apparently the first one they shot after 9/11, and ended up Lisa Kudrow’s favorite, because a stranger thanked her for making them laugh. Aw!

#6. South Park “A Nightmare on Face Time”

“Oh, and Kenny? Stay gold.”

SP has a number of Halloween episodes, but my favorite has to be this one from 2014. There’s two main plotlines and they’re both Peak Halloweeny goodness. First, there’s Randy reenacting The Shining as his new Blockbuster  video goes under due to Netflix stealing business, which is absolutely hilarious. Then there’s the boys as The Avengers, hoping to win a costume contest despite Stan having to FaceTime. This part is full of trick-or-treating goodness, with each of the costumes being perfect for the kid (WE HEAR KENNY’S VOICE! ALBEIT DISTORTED!) and the comedy of how seriously everyone takes Stan’s ipod battery dying being absolutely killer. Certainly wins the prize for Funniest Halloween Ep Ever. (Also, Kyle’s thor costume. Thor would obviously look so much cooler with that hat.)

#5. Buffy “Halloween”

“It’s come as you aren’t night!”

The second of the Buffyverse Halloween entries on the list. Not just a great Halloween ep but a great Buffy ep too, this one is absolutely rolling in seasonal riches. Pumpkin patch vamp fight! Halloween decorated Bronze! Ethan Rayne turning everyone into their costumes is such a clever gimmick, and as usual with a Buffy ep they do more with it than just that. Noblewoman!Buffy, Military!Xander and Ghost! Willow are each a treat to watch as they try something new with their lives. I’m a little annoyed by the “not like other girls” sappy Bangel ending, but otherwise, this one is just golden. (My shipper heart rejoices in the Cangel Bronze Date and Buffy being awfully flirty with Willow as well, for the record). 

#4. Parks and Rec “Halloween Surprise”

“You can’t plan your future, Leslie. You just gotta let it happen.”

Parks and Rec is another one with a plethora of great Halloween eps to  choose from (something about blonde female leads I guess). This one takes the spot for being the most substantial, plot-wise, of all four, including lots of changes in the story and a great lesson at the end - though also for having the best costumes (Rosie the  riveter Leslie! Princess Diane), the best celebration (Screening of Death canoe 4 Murder at blood Lake sounds like an absolutely delightful way to spend a Halloween) and the best ending (BEN PROPOSES TO LESILE OMG). The only thing it’s missing is April, who only cameos at the start. But she gets plenty to do in the other Halloween eps, so I’ll forgive it.

#3. Frasier “Halloween”

“I’m  Waldo. From Where’s Waldo. You know, the guy you  can’t find because he blends into the crowd.” “I don’t know, but I’d love a demonstration.”

Frasier is absolute peak sitcom comedy, especially with the Farce plotline. This one is a great, sophisticated classic, with Niles throwing a Library association ball - which means everyone must dress as a character from literature. Niles is Cyrano, Martin is Holmes, Frasier and Daphne are from the Canterbury tales, and Roz is O from the Story of O. The real conflict of the ep is “Is Roz Pregnant” and everyone mistaking who’s pregnant by whom. The  climax is Niles proposing to Daphne who he thinks is the one pregnant from an imaginary fling with Frasier. It’s funny, glib, and absolutely whacky, with some extra Halloween shenanigans to keep you occupied, like Niles’ weird old-timey theme and the parade of trick-or-treaters constantly interrupting the skits demanding candy. Definitely don’t miss this one!

#2. Gravity Falls “Summerween”

“We’re getting older, there’s not that many Halloweens left!’

There’s definitely something about supernatural shows and Halloween episodes that just creates that extra level of quality. GF is a great show all around, and this little gem of a Halloween ep is one of the best of the whole series. It’s got everything: The Summerween Trickster, the trick-or-treating, the try-hard scares and the mad dash for candy. My favorite thing about it, though, would have to be the conflict between Dipper and Mabel about what to do for Halloween. They were always debating whether it were better to grow up too soon or try to stay a kid, and this one uses Halloween to illustrate that: Dipper torn between the Grown Up party and the Kid Trick-or-Treating, and the poignant way that rings true for all of us here in the US - that day when you finally realize you’re ‘too old’ for trick-or-treating - really makes this one strong. 

Hon Mentions: The other Parks and Rec episodes; Buffy All the Way; the camptastic Smallville episode “Thirst”, the How I met Your Mother Halloweens

#1. Buffy “Fear Itself”

“Don’t taunt the fear demon!” “Why, can he hurt me?” “No, it’s just tacky.”

Like I said before, no one does Halloween like Buffy does Halloween. And this one is the best of the best, of the best. Everything you could want from a Halloween ep is right here. Pumpkin carving, check. Crazy party, check. Whacky costumes, check. Spooky real scares, check. The Gang’s costumes are a parade of awesome (ANYA AS BUNNY!) and the concept of exploring each member’s Greatest Fear is an absolute winner. I love every time a TV show tries to do a Greatest Fears episode, because it’s just a concept I get a kick out of - such a great way to explore our characters’ most primal needs! - and this is b y far the best. The atmosphere, the subject matter, the costumes, and  the writing, which is seriously killer in this episode (”Prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying...Fantasia.” “Maybe it’s because of all the horrificthings we’ve seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don’t unnerve me the way they used to”) all make this, in my opinion the best Halloween ep of all time.

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Sigyn, Wife of Loki

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Requested: No

Tagging: @thisismysecrethappyplace @butcanijustnot

Fandom: Tom Hiddleston?

Relationship: Married; Tom Hiddleston x Reader. Established; Loki x Sigyn

Summary: The Reader is Tom’s wife and soon she’ll be Loki’s wife as well as she plays Sigyn in the new Loki limited series.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None.

You met Tom when you were cast to play Edith Cushing opposite of his Sir Thomas Sharpe in Crimson Peak. It was your first big role in the film industry and you were ecstatic to be working with such as amazing actors, but you didn’t know that you would have met your future husband on Crimson Peak’s set.

You and Tom had grown so close while filming the movie that the two of you continued to talk and hang out even after filming was over and, as the press tour rolled around and the two of you were back to spending long hours around each other, the two of you happily started dating.

You and Tom were together for two years before you married.

You loved Tom’s fans and how loyal they were, but they didn’t love you. You tried not to let it get to you, but every now and then one of his fans would say something particularly mean that would really hurt you.

Those mean comments picked up significantly after it was announced that you would be playing Loki’s wife in Marvel’s new Loki limited series. You married Sir Thomas Sharpe and Tom and now you were marrying Loki and it “just wasn’t fair.”

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more excited. You were excited to work with your husband again and you were excited to be a Marvel actress who got to play a Goddess and you were excited to get to see Tom as Loki up close and personal.

You had always loved Loki and Tom’s subtle and powerful portrayal of emotion and Loki’s internal struggles and you were so excited to see him portray those powerful moments with your own eyes.

--

Filming the series so far had been a blast. You were having a time of your life, even if the fans weren’t sold on your portrayal of Sigyn.

Today you and Tom were filming a rather intense scene between the two of you. Loki and Sigyn’s relationship was on the rocks in the series and Loki was in the midst of a rather large internal struggle and all of today the two of you were going to film the scene where he takes out all of his pent up feelings on you.

Loki had been distant from Sigyn in the beginning of the episode. He was planning on breaking up with her at the end of the episode because he knew she was too good for him and that he didn’t deserve her, which was one of the internal struggles currently plaguing Loki.

“And action!” The director called.

You and Tom stood on the set of one of the Asgardian Palace’s many secluded halls, his back to you. Upon the direction calling action, you stepped forwards and gently touched Tom’s shoulder.

“I still love you.” You whispered, your eyes on the ground.

“You shouldn’t.” Tom replied, not turning to face you.

“But I do…” You whispered and slowly retracted your hand and went to walk away.

“I don’t have a heart left for you to love.” Tom said softly, turning around.

You stopped and turned your head over your shoulder towards him. “You’re wrong, Loki.”

Tom shook his head, clenching his jaw. “Odin ruined me and I’m a monster, Sigyn. I’m not a man deserving of your affection.”

You turned back towards him and stepped closer to cup his cheek. “You’re wrong about that as well, my love.”

Tom pushed your hand away and stepped back, turning back around.

“I don’t love you.” Tom’s voice was supposed to be cold and hard. The line was directed to be a blow towards Sigyn, but Tom’s voice betrayed him and the line came out softly and full of emotion.

You swallowed and tightened your lips. “You’re lying, God of Lies.” You whispered after a moment, sticking to the script.

“I don’t love you!” Tom shouted, turning around quickly, just as scripted.

Your mouth fell open for a moment before you closed it and swallowed, your eyes welling up with tears, a few of them spilling down your cheek, just as the script said. You felt your lip tremble and you took a step back from Tom.

Tom was supposed to harden his expression and ignore your emotional reaction to his outburst, but Tom didn’t. Instead of hardening his expression, Tom’s face crumbled. His expression softened and you watched as his eyes became red with the tears gathering in his eyes. His entire body just fell, his shoulders sagging forwards as he stepped towards you.

You knew Tom and you knew that he was no longer Loki but your husband, heartbroken over the words he just shouted at you. The scene was over and everyone in the room knew it as Tom slowly broke down before you, but the director couldn’t bear to shout “cut.”

Tom stepped closer to you and gently brought his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your skin.

“That’s not true.” Tom whispered, leaning towards you slightly, his eyes bleeding pain and regret.

“I love you more than everything,” Tom’s voice was soft and it broke slightly when he breathed the word everything. “More than life itself.” Tom finished, leaning forwards to press his forehead to yours, a single tear falling due to the angle and gravity as he closed his eyes.

You smiled sadly and reached up to cup his jaw, your own eyes closing as you swayed closer to Tom’s body. “It’s okay.”

“Cut.” You and Tom heard the director say softly and Tom slowly pulled back from you and wiped his tears.

“What?” He asked, looking towards the director.

“That was beautiful, I hope you don’t mind me saying that. It was just so raw and pure and I would shoot myself in the foot later if I didn’t have that on tape. I doubt we’ll use it, I don’t think we’re there yet in terms of Loki and Sigyn’s story, but it really was a powerful moment between the two of you and we can all see how much Tom loves you, (Y/N).” The director walked over and clasped his hand on your shoulder. “I’m really glad we chose you to play Sigyn.”

--

You and Loki watched the finished episodes before they were released and both of you were very surprised when you sat down to watch this week’s episode and found Tom’s character break within the episode.

It had been the first time you and Tom had seen the scene and you had to admit, the director was right. It really was a powerful moment. And, as you watched it, you realized that Tom’s character break wasn’t as evident as you as previously thought. In fact, it reminded you of his scene in Thor: The Dark World where Loki yelled at Frigga and then immediately regretted it.

Tom paused the episode after the scene and looked down at you in his arms, but he didn’t say anything. You looked up and gave him a small smile. “I think that version was better than the original idea.”

Tom smiled back at you and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I still hate that I had to yell that at you…”

You shoved your husband a bit. “For the lasttime, it wasn’t you and it wasn’t me and it’s okay.”

“Still.” He whispered and you sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back and leaned more onto Tom’s chest.

--

You were nervous about the reaction the scene would have on the fans. Loki fans were scary and harsh and they were not happy about you being cast as Sigyn in the new Loki series. See, you had already “stolen Tom and it wasn’t fair that you were going to get Loki too.” So far, the reaction of your character and her relationship to Loki wasn’t very well received and you feared that they would hate the very real scene in this week’s episode.

Fortunately, you were wrong.

The fans loved the scene. The found it every bit as raw and powerful as the director and yourself had found it and the scene changed the minds of a great deal of fans on Loki and Sigyn’s relationship as well as you playing Sigyn. A large deal of fans agreed that if Sigyn had been played by anyone other than you, Tom’s wife, the relationship between Loki and Sigyn wouldn’t be as deep nor the love as visible.

You couldn’t be more happy over the episode being well received. And you couldn’t help yourself from liking a bunch of Instagram and Twitter posts you found about the scene, your personal favourite being a comparison between you and Tom, Edith and Thomas, and Sigyn and Loki. You also couldn’t help yourself from saving the photo collage and sending it to your husband.