#I swear I’ll post more full illustrations soon

[mochiwei]

Not dead, just sketching!

[elizabeethan]

Spaces Between Us- 1/12

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

A/N: first, the chapter count is a big fat probably, definitely not definite! I’m  really really excited to share this story! i’ve got four chapter pre-written so far, so i’m planning on posting on a consistent weekly basis. 

More tags will apply to later chapters and i’ll put warnings where they're necessary, but if you have any concerns or questions feel free to message me!

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

(also bonus points if you can guess what the title is based on :) it’s a hint)

This story will be rated M

This chapter: ~3200 words

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

If you’re interested in being tagged or want me to remove you from the list please let me know!

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything​ @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious​ @ouatpost​ @daxx04​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @donteattheappleshook​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​ @xsajx​ @itsfridaysomewhere​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @rapunzelsghosts​

~~~~

She wakes before the sun as she does most mornings, with a start and a jump as she springs her head from her pillow and clutches her hand to her pounding chest. Glancing to her right, she sees her still sleeping husband and breathes a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders sag and her eyes flutter shut slightly. He’s fast asleep, just like he is each time she has one of her horrifying nightmares, never noticing her fearful thrashing. Rolling her eyes, she removes the blankets and lets her bare feet hit the hardwood floor and stands to make her way to the bathroom. After her shower, Emma dresses silently, applies minimal makeup, and sneaks out of their bedroom, still successful in not disturbing her husband. 

 Her son is already on the couch downstairs waiting for her, of course. If there’s one thing the two of them are equally bad at, it’s sleeping. She smiles when she sees him curled up with his picture book, his orange tabby, Abby, purring away beside him. “Morning, bub,” she greets once she’s downstairs, and he grins up at her happily. 

 “Hi, mommy.” 

 Crossing the room to the couch, she leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek and asks, “do you want some breakfast? We’ve got to get you ready for the library soon.” 

 “Is dad coming?”

She shakes her head. “No, bub. Dad has to work today, so it’s just you and mommy. I’m sorry.”

 “Okay!” he says happily, jumping from the couch and disturbing Abby. “Me and mommy day!”

 She giggles softly and grins, following as he bounds for the kitchen and trying to ignore the ache in her chest that accompanies his complete lack of concern over his father being absent for something he enjoys, again. 

“What do you want for breakfast, bub? Eggs?”

 “Eggies!” he calls, crawling up onto his dining chair. “Scrambied.” 

 “Scrambled,” she corrects gently. “With cheese?”

 “Yes! Cheese please!”

 “Very good manners, Henry,” she praises happily as she takes out a bowl, a whisk, and a pan before heading towards the fridge. “Aren’t you going to help me crack the eggs?” 

 His eyes widen and he drops his jaw dramatically, jumping off the chair with enthusiasm and running towards her. “I can crack the eggies?!”

 She smiles down at him, taken by his excitement and his refusal to say real words, and says, “yes, my love.” 

 Choking on her words, she wants to kick herself. Six year and she still finds herself using his stupid phrasing. It sends a jolt of discomfort and a twinge of longing pain through her entire being, the ability to remember small details at the most inopportune times having always haunted her. It tells her how she feels. It tells her she’ll never forget. It tells her how she’ll never feel again. 

 Her husband grumbles as he enters the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and grabbing Emma’s ass in full view of her son, which makes her stiffen and glare ahead out the window, grinding her teeth. “Morning,” he says. 

 “Do you have to do that, Walsh?” she asks quietly through clenched teeth. 

 She doesn’t need to be facing him to know that he rolls his eyes. 

 Taking a deep, grounding breath in, she bends towards Henry and scoops him up easily, placing him on the counter and handing him an egg. “Remember how I showed you?” 

 “What are you doing, teaching him to cook?” Walsh asks in an incredulous tone. 

 “I don’t know, giving him life skills? Just tap gently against the counter, bub,” she instructs, and he does just that. Well, almost that. 

 He smashes the egg against the counter and she quickly helps him to drag it over the bowl, splitting it open messily and letting the yoke fall in. “I did it!”

 “No shells; excellent job!” 

 “Dad, look!” 

 Walsh makes no effort to turn from his damn phone, instead nodding once and grunting in false acknowledgment. 

 He cracks another egg, this time getting a bit of shell in the bowl but able to fish it out with help, and Emma begins beating them with just a bit too much force. “What exactly are we doing today?” she asks. 

 “Swearing in ceremony. The new sheriff starts.”

 She nods. The new sheriff was appointed by the state, so no one but Walsh knows who they are or what their deal is. Why they’re in Storybrooke to begin with. What kind of town they think they’re going to be protecting and serving. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, greeting a new citizen, but Storybrooke is a sleepy little town with very little excitement. 

 She has no idea how she got here. 

 “That’s why you can’t come to the library, dad?” Henry asks sadly, and his father nods without making eye contact. 

 “Yeah,” he confirms. “I have important work to do.”

 Emma rolls her eyes, then smiles softly at Henry and says, “it’s alright. It’s just Henry and mommy day, remember?”

 His face lights up again and he nods, grabbing for the cheese and stealing a slice for himself. She glares at him playfully and he giggles, squirming to the edge of the counter before she assists him down and he runs for the living room. “Food in the kitchen!” Emma calls after him. Walsh looks up from his phone for a moment, then straight back down. 

 Henry returns quickly, holding a small piece of cheese down towards the floor and taunting poor Abby with it as she chases after him. “She wants some!”

 “Henry, we don’t give Abby human food, remember? Why don’t you eat your cheese and give her some of her food?”

 He nods, gobbling his snack and then tossing a small piece onto the floor for the cat when he thinks she’s stopped paying attention. God dammit. 

 “Hey, dress nice today,” Walsh commands from behind his emails. “After the library, come to the town hall. There’ll be photo ops for the paper.”

 “Okay,” she mumbles. 

 “Make sure he doesn’t make a mess of himself.”

 She can’t respond with words without shouting, so she stays quiet. God forbid a child have a little fun and get a little dirty. “Henry, come get your breakfast. Did you feed Abby?”

 “Okay!”

 “Did you?”

 “Coming!”

 She signs and rolls her eyes, plating his eggies and tossing the pan into the sink too loudly before feeding the cat and heading upstairs, hoping her child’s father can watch him for the five minutes it will take for her to pick out a newspaper-worthy outfit for the two of them. 

 ~~~~

 “There it is!” Henry calls as he runs into the children’s section of the library, dodging other kids and parents and beelining towards his favorite. “Mommy! Come on!”

 She apologizes to the people he bumped into and finds him with his book already open to his favorite page. “Henry,” she says seriously. “Bub, you’ve got to slow down. You ran into some people and you have to be careful.”

 “Sorry,” he says, not looking up from the dog in the illustration. 

 She sighs and sits beside him, nudging him over and taking a spot on the oversized bean bag chair. “What is Mudge getting up to today?” she asks him, using the skills Belle taught her to get him to engage with the words and the pictures. 

 He’s quiet for a while, pointing out details to her and trying his hand at a few words. He’s starting to get good at reading since starting kindergarten, and she couldn’t be prouder when he sounds out family without much help, beaming at him and stroking her fingers through his chestnut hair. 

 “Mommy?” he asks after taking in an illustration of Henry and Mudge going up a hill. She hums in response to urge him to go on and he asks, “why doesn’t dad like to read with me?” 

 She can feel her heart plunging to her stomach, dropping like an anvil and sending a cold sweat across her body. Walsh has always been distant. When they first met, he seemed so sweet, and when he proposed as soon as they found out she was pregnant, she thought she had hit the jackpot. But as soon as their son was born, she saw a change in him. He became a different person, never around, never helping much, never showing either of them any affection. She blamed it on his new role as the Mayor of Storybrooke; he couldn’t have had a scandalous extramarital pregnancy on his docket and being a family man helped his chances for election. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to know that the man she’s stuck spending the rest of her life with isn’t shy about how little he regards her. 

 She can deal with a lack of love from her husband. What she can’t deal with is his lack of love for his son.

 Through her anger, she responds calmly, telling Henry, “dad’s just so busy, bub. He has an important job and it’s hard for him to focus on other things sometimes, because he’s so tired.” 

 Henry nods softly and turns the page. “So he doesn’t like me?” 

 The tears that spring to her eyes are instant and unstoppable, and she’s grateful that they're sitting side by side so that he can’t see her reaction. Clearing her throat, she says, “no, Henry, of course he does. I think sometimes he’s just… stressed.”

 “You’re stressed, but you love me,” he points out. 

 With a gulp, she says, “and I always will, more than anything. But your dad… he… Well, he just isn’t the type of person to say that like mommy is. That’s why I say it so much,” she smiles. 

 Her son looks up at her and smiles, his enigmatic gray eyes shining despite the sunlight not reaching this secluded back corner of the library. “I love you, mommy,” he tells her, and he gives her a hug that makes her feel more love than she’s ever felt with her husband. 

 She’s always been able to compartmentalize the fact that her husband doesn’t love her. That he never once told her that he does. That he married her out of obligation after knocking her up. But she can’t ignore the fact that he shows no love for their son, either. 

 What’s worse, is that he’s noticed. 

 ~~~~

 The town hall is nothing special, the cinderblock walls and the tile floors enough to keep the cold, fall air inside and make Emma shiver when she takes her coat off. Her husband, miserable as he is, gives her a quick smile and a curt nod that tells her she’s only welcome here because of the cameras and their need to portray a happy, loving family. It’s true, he’s always provided for them and made sure that they want for nothing, but it’s limited only to basic needs and material things. 

 “Hi,” he greets quickly, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek as a camera flashes. She forces herself to smile. “Hi, son.” 

 Henry grunts up at his father, not making eye contact and not letting go of Emma’s hand. “Hi,” he mumbles. 

 Emma knows, as much as she hates to admit it, that Henry should give his dad a hug so that Sydney Glass can snap a photo of the wholesome moment. But after their conversation earlier, she isn’t inclined to make him. So, she bends at the knees and gives him a smile, asking, “bub, do you want to give your dad a hug hello?” 

 He shrugs, looking down at his feet, and reluctantly reaches for Walsh. He laughs happily as he picks Henry up, giving him a squeeze and successfully tricking the few townsfolk here into believing his show. “How was the library, buddy?” 

 Henry says nothing in return, shrugging and then squirming until Walsh puts him down. He runs back to Emma and takes her hand again, holding on tight, and she paints on a smile and runs her fingers through his hair. “Let’s find a seat, Henry,” she suggests. 

 “There's seats here for you,” Walsh tells her, gesturing for the first row where there are three folding chairs, each with a placard on them. Mayor Walsh Oswald is first, with Mrs. Walsh Oswald to the right and Mr. Henry Oswald in the center of the two. 

 Emma takes a seat and has Henry do the same, and after a few more handshakes and photo ops, Walsh sits as well and the ceremony begins. Sydney Glass continues to snap pictures of the crows and of the stage, until the lights dim and the state’s police chief walks on stage. 

 A speech is made, as if this event is anything more than mundane, and then the mayor is called on stage to complete the induction of the town’s new sheriff. Walsh graces the stage excitedly, earning applause from the small crowd as he waves, and takes the microphone. He says a few words about the town’s safety being the number one priority, and assures everyone that the state police chief surely couldn't have made a better decision when he hired their new sheriff. 

 And then he calls him onto the stage. 

 And Emma’s world goes dark. 

 Killian Jones. 

 Her eyes must be three times their normal size as he walks onto the stage, and she’s grateful for the dramatic lights because they mean he likely can’t see her. But she can see him. 

 For the first time in six years, she can see him. 

 Her breathing quickens and her vision feels blurry, and she realizes that in her haste to get ready this morning, she had barely anything but coffee. She takes a deep breath and clings to the seat of her folding chair with white knuckles, gnawing on her bottom lip until it bleeds as she watches the one that got away place his hand on the bible and repeat a vow of servitude to her husband. She wants to die. 

 “Mommy?” Henry whispers in the darkness. “Are you okay?” 

 She swallows against her bone dry throat and nods, giving him a shaky smile, which only serves to worry him some more, likely due to her sudden paleness. “Yes,” she whispers. “Hush, bub. It’s almost done.” 

 The heart in her chest, the one she gave away to the man on the stage years ago, slams against her ribs almost painfully, until Walsh announces the new sheriff and the crowd begins to cheer. Through panting breaths, she claps, and then grabs Henry’s hand and pulls him as subtly as she can towards the exit and into the chilly November air. “Where are we going?” he asks in confusion. 

 “Mommy just needs some air,” she explains, gulping in a breath as she throws herself through the double doors. 

 She squats down and presses her back to the brick wall, burying her face in her hands and trying to steady her breathing before she feels Henry's small hand on her head. He does what she always does to him when he’s upset and begins scratching his fingers against her scalp, and the thoughtful notion brings tears to her eyes. “It’s okay, mommy,” he consoles, and she’s sure he has no idea what’s going on, although he shows her endless compassion either way. She wonders how she got so lucky with such a thoughtful son when he was basically doomed by genetics. 

 “I’m sorry, bub,” she says softly. “I’m fine, really.” 

 She hears the doors open to her right and assumes the ceremony must be over, so she turns her head away from the crowd. She hears someone ask Henry if he’s alright and starts wiping at her tears, intent on interrupting the exchange, but when Henry says, “my mommy is sick,” she laughs and shakes her head. 

 “Shall we get her some help, lad?” he asks, and Emma’s certain that if she had eaten breakfast, she would lose it. 

 “I don’t need help,” she mumbles, breathing heavily and hiding her face in her hands. 

 “It’s no problem,” he insists. Then he makes a joke, his tone light and flirty and exactly like she remembers it. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm here to protect and serve.” 

 It’s impossible for her to hold in a soft chuckle, cut off by a surprising and breathless sob, and she can’t help but to look up at him. She watches as his jaw drops and his eyes widen; he falters backwards as he takes in the sight of her, denial and shock ever present on his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but words die on his lips and he remains still before he snaps his mouth shut. 

 “Aren’t you gonna help my mom?” Henry asks in disgust, staring up at Killian in a way that makes Emma want to throw up. She never did think that these two worlds would collide, as much as she may have wanted them to. 

 He hasn’t broken his gaze from her until he looks at her son and gulps before staring back down at her. “Uh, aye,” he says to Henry. “Do you need some help, miss?” 

 Without waiting for her answer, he offers her his hand and she takes it. There’s a shock that rushes through her entire body at the feeling of his skin touching hers, and it feels like she’s coming home and losing her sanity all at once. The pains in her chest are overwhelming and she can feel more tears stinging her eyes as he pulls her up from the ground. She nearly topples into his chest once she’s finally standing, because she’s so unsteady that her legs feel like they’re made of the noodles Henry likes in his soup, and he catches her before she can stumble. 

 He asks, “alright?” with such soft concern that she thinks she would smoothe out his brow and kiss him if not for Henry standing beside them. 

 She’s about to answer before she hears, “sheriff,” coming from her husband to her right. Her husband. Right. 

 They spring apart and she looks down at Henry, who is staring up at her with his brows drawn close together and his lips set in a straight, thin line. She gives him a small smile before looking at Walsh and blinking rapidly. “Hi, honey,” she greets. “I just met the sheriff; he was just helping me up. What a great addition to the town.” 

 Walsh glares at her with a look on his face that tells her she’ll be hearing about this later and then turns to Killian and offers his hand. “I look forward to meeting with you, Mr. Jones,” he says as they shake hands stiffly. 

 “Pleasure,” he responds. “It was nice to meet you and your family. I’ll see you next week.” 

 Her husband places a stiff hand on her back, calling for Henry to follow them without bothering to make sure that he actually is, before hissing, “let’s go,” into her ear. 

 Her heart races for an entirely different reason than it had when she saw Killian Jones. 

~~~~

~~~~

[timeforafuckingcrusade4]

Opinions on Simeon? Any headcanons you have for him? ;v ;

I have a very high opinion of Simeon I love him very much and he's my second favourite side character with Barbatos

Simeon Headcannons

Simeon has most definitely got a sketch pad somewhere because he's tried illustrating TSL, but hes never really gotten anywhere with it. He also likes painting in his spare time, he doesn't like to admit that though.

He wasn't always a drill sergeant type of guy when it comes down to being serious, he had to adapt to be like that because when he was in the celestial realm with Lucifer the bros used to go to Simeon to get them out of situations (considering his high status and kind nature they'd use him and he'd let them) but Lucifer picked up on it and told him he has to be more strict and that's where the drill sergeant behaviour came from.

He's always warm so when he's not you better believe it's cold.

If he ever wants a specific outfit he asks Levi because he trusts him to do a good job

He can make an amazing Hot chocolate I don't take criticism for this. It's the perfect temperature constantly and it warms you up the right amount and it's as sweet as him.

Dog person most definitely but he's not one of those dog owners who swears off cats, no he just prefers dogs because he see them as happy and joyful and given the chance he would adopt all of the dogs at a shelter.

Dresses in mainly whites and blues but I feel like he should wear more grey.

He likes to clip his hair back when he's writing, painting, cleaning and cooking...just imagine Simeon with like butterfly hair clips and a small ponytail whilst he does any tasks.

Lowkey an alcoholic, he can hold his liquor very well and he was most definitely Lucifers drinking buddy at one point.

I'll come up with more headcannons very soon and I'll do a full post of Simeon headcannons :)

[moldy-mold]

June Blog Gotta spice up my life.

Tried out new boba places that have started to open up in Atlanta and I feel like life is worth living again!

-

Plant Saga I swear this is probably the most eventful part of my life.

Hubert the monstera has many new leaves, one successfully became a split leaf but he’s got a ways to go. He’s too small now to create completely split leaves. I think maybe next year...

- I got Lorenz a rose gold planter and it made him more bougie. NICE. I don’t know if anyone cares about mini rose plant care but he did get infected by spider mites because of course he freakin did. I mixed dish soap and water and sprayed him once a week and they disappeared. Every day I have to monitor him for signs of stress and any other possible problems. I think he’s the most high-maintenance plant I currently have and it is very fitting lool.

- Rokurou the Venus Fly Trap keeps eating things. Very typical. I saw him catch a moth that nearly escaped with half of its body still caught in the trap. It was gruesome but I was really psyched to see him catch something other than ants. He is so happy now he even created a flower bud which I had to unfortunately destroy before it bloomed. It really weakens the plant to let it produce flowers. :( Apparently they’re pretty boring and smell bad anyway loool. I need to get him a planter too... - Say hello to Riki the parlor palm! I was trying to think of which character was pointy and tropical. This is a pretty easy plant to care for, I just water him once a week.

My next goal is to get my hands on a pothos! Time to think about names...

-

Projects Last month I began planning out a complete comic series about Rokurou and Eizen. Listen... I am very enthusiastic about their bromance. I work on it every day for a little bit before bed. You can say I was inspired to do this because of the amount of Webtoons I’ve been reading. If they let us post fanart maybe I would have given it a shot haha. Sadly, my only usable social media platforms are not comic-friendly but it’s alright. Based on my progress I’m happy to say that I will be finishing a comic series for once (I’m 95% done). And I never finish anything! I want to launch this project in two weeks but I’ve told myself that I must finish all of my comic pages before I post a single thing. Soon. - I don’t think I’ve shared visuals of what I do at the stationery company I work at. We occasionally get orders for chalkboard bar menus for wedding receptions. I’ll show you the one I illustrated for the client of their pets! I actually met the bride and groom that day (it was also my birthday) and they thanked me like 1000 times and even gave me a huge tip. T_T

Otherwise, my duties include laser cutting and wedding assembly! I would love if this were a full-time job like the old days... - The bakery... I am bros with the cafe owner’s husband. He helps out on weekends and we have synergy. He is very... DAD. For some reason he likes to give me a new life lesson every week I see him. He’s not my dad but I’m still going to tell him Happy Father’s Day. Here’s a text:

-

The Berseria Journey (I will be vague in my commentary) Made a new friend thanks to Berseria! Crying over fics really do bring people together 🥺.

After playing for 6 and a half months, we finally beat the main story... To be fair, we went around the world doing all side quests and optional content. My favorite mini-game was Character Cards!

My roomie and I play together so during the finale she took on the “short one” as Velvet - while I, playing as Rokurou, had an EPIC one-on-one sword fight with the “tall one”. Dodging attacks and countering with Vengeful Stance, the delicious stun attacks. MMM! It was so good. Finished it off with beautiful lvl 3 mystic. *chef kiss*

Uhhhhhh I need time to process that ending because so much was happening in the last 10 minutes of the game. I am still kind of confused but you know what, that’s okay. Maybe my brain will catch up when I do post-game activities.

I wish I had more interesting pictures but we’re having such a hard time getting PS4 recordings to work. Please accept my Snapchats.

Last but not least, to end the blog:

He said wanted the towel. To wear nothing but the towel. It is very much canon, so who am I to deny him?

[lavender-fables]

Have this really akward doodle of Jon i made a few days ago on my sister’s tablet😆

Honestly, I’ll stick to my graphic tablet cause this is too weird. (Literally had to make a diy stylus for this. Was fun, but awkward to use)

Anyway this is Jon from my 80’s AU you might be seeing soon. I’ve been working on a full illustration and MIGHT be doing a comic if not ill just keep it in text. I have too many ideas for comics lately but i swear committing to anything rn is hard.🤣 if anyone is intersted in knowing more or me posting more about my 80’s AU let me know. I love reading your comments/tags^^✨

(Click for better quality)

[cat-in-a-fedora]

Reunion Falls

I think I found something for the reunion falls au of Gravity Falls on the original creator’s blog. The reblog and like functionalities weren’t working for some reason, and I couldn’t find it in the creator’s archive. I really like this, though, so I’m gonna put it here and give credit.

This was originally on @sailorleo, and I couldn’t reblog it for some reason.

`-i dunno, he’s like, really weirdly clingy, but when we’re together all he wants to do is talk about his band…

-dump him.

-dipper that’s the same advice you’ve given me for every boyfriend i’ve ever had

-then why don’t you ask mabel?

-fine, maybe i will. mabel, what do you-

-no actually i think dipper’s right you should dump him

-teen soos playing with baby dipper and getting all excited when he says his name

-it would work better if stan actually knew mabel was coming beforehand, but just couldn’t work up the nerve to tell dipper until the last minute. by some fluke, mabel arrives a day early, and makes contact with dipper while stan is out.

-stan tells dipper that at the time of his birth his parents weren’t expecting twins, and couldn’t afford to take care of two children at once. he only told the kid they were dead because he thought it might be easier to handle than the idea that his parents didn’t want him.

–

-what are you still doing up?

-’m makin’ a sweater for grenda. she’s bigger than me, so it’s taking longer. you had a nightmare?

-no big deal, it was just an anxiety dream.

-a what?

-it’s like a nightmare, but instead of being scary it just makes all your deepest insecurities a reality. grunkle stan says they’re the brain’s way of reminding you that life could always be worse.

-…that sounds dumb.

-yeah, well, life isn’t fair, mabel.

–

-that corduroy girl out sick today or somethin’?

-what? um, no! i was just, uh… i tripped. on a rock. a lot of rocks.

-oh c'mon, kid, you think i never got the snot kicked outta me in elementary school? i know a fist to the face when i see it. c'mere, let’s fix you up.

–

-what can i do, though? they’re all bigger than me, and if i tell the teacher i’ll just look like even more of a wimp.

-ha! if you don’t wanna look like a wimp, you should stop letting other people fight your battles for ya.

-but i can’t-

-now hold on. i know you can’t, you’ve got about as many muscles as a soggy piece of toast. but one thing i know about the world is that guys who were born bigger, stronger, and smarter are always gonna punch down. and guys like you an’ me are stuck right at the bottom like old gum. so if your wits can’t save ya, all there is to do is punch back up.

-���.do you mean that metaphorically, or….

-i was wondering when i’d have to dig these old things up again! …see, kid, all I’m trying to say is, when the world fights, you gotta learn to fight back.

–

-oh, shit. we’re not getting anywhere like this.

-*gasp* dipper!!

-what??

-you just said the ’s’ word!

-so? we’re practically teenagers, mabel. we can swear.

-i have friends back home who won’t even say ‘crap’! you must be getting it from somewhere

-i don’t know what you-

-[wendy enters] AYYYYYY DICKWEEDS WHAT’S FUCKIN HAPPENING

–

-ugh, sorry about all that, man. i don’t know why robbie’s always such an asshole to you.

-you don’t think he’s like…..jealous of me, do you?

-HA! ohhhhh my god. oh my god you’re probably right.

-what, does he think I’m gonna like, steal you away? like he’s INTIMIDATED by me? …that feels kinda good, actually.

-oh man, can you imagine? dipper pines, casanova extraordinaire! refined older women such as myself just….COLLAPSING at your feet!

–

-grunkle stan, um…. where are my parents?

-uhh……….. they died.

-oh…. how did they die?

-they………………died.

–

-you know when you’re wearing just the vest without a sweater you kinda look like……. someone. it’ll come to me

–

-mabel, what did you do to the journal????

-what? you told me to pretend it was my diary!

-i said to PRETEND it was your diary, not actually use it as a diary!! you didn’t mess with the stuff inside, did you?

[cut to: a shot of the interior of the journal, filled with stickers and cute little drawings and tiny diary entries about boys and the like]

-…….nnnnnnnope.

–

-if you’re going to be a monster hunter, you’ve got to have a look.

-hey, i’ve already got THAT covered

-no, i mean a look that tells people you mean business. like what i’ve got!

-what’s more businesslike than a leopard wearing sunglasses?

-i can think of a few things. what about like, a jacket? or…. a jacket? something besides a big fluffy sweater.

-listen dip, we’ve only known each other for a few days so i’ll let you off the hook this time. but first rule of mabel? the sweater STAYS.

-ugh, fine, but you’re gonna overheat. hey, what about this? it’s big enough to wear over a sweater. and it’s got pockets!

-but does it have PERSONALITY?

-you can decorate it or whatever i don’t care.

–

-mabel, have you seen my gel?

-nope. why do you gel your hair, anyway?

-i don’t want my bangs to cover my birthmark.

-can’t you just cut them off?

-it’s part of the look.

-ohhh, the 'look’.

–

-soooooo dipper had a crush on you, huh?

-haha, yuuuuuup. he thought he was being super smooth about it too. 100% convinced i had no idea. oh shit, dude, you wanna see this valentines card he made me when he was like, seven?

-you KNOW i do!

-boom! check it. all the blackmail you’ll ever need on one piece of construction paper.

-oh my gosshhhhhhhhh…..wait,  "love, ty"?

-oh yeah, ol’ dipstick used to go by 'tyrone’ before he was dipper. just between you and me, dipper suits him better. tyrone is too cool for him.

-why’d he switch?

-dunno, really. he used to hate his birthmark, people would make fun of him for it, yknow? and then one day he just started being super cool with it. he like, reinvented his entire image around the thing. you should’ve seen him before that though, always brushing his bangs down over his forehead… well, at least he puts some effort into his appearance now.

–

-FUCK!

-KID!

-oh no.

-where’d you learn language like that?

-i… uh….

–…..wasn’t from me, was it?

-n-no! it was from…. nobody! i mean, you hear stuff around, and-

-WAHAHA! this is great! now i don’t have to keep my mouth shut around ya! and it isn’t even my fault!

–

-mabel, take out the trash

-booooooo!

-…aren’t you going to do what he said?

-sure, just as soon as i finish kicking dipper’s butt!

-i will dance on your grave, mabel.

-but…he’s your uncle. you should listen to him before he gets mad, right?

-pff, what’s ol’ stan gonna do, throw his dentures at me? (don’t tempt me, kid) half the fun of being a kid is not doing what adults tell you to do! consequences be darned.

-…paz, really, stan loves us. he’s not gonna like, hit me or anything. yikes.

–

-dipper, seriously, what the heck happened between you and gideon!

-i told you, nothing! he’s just a creep.

-oh, is THAT why he won’t stop talking about you? even on our dates! it’s WEIRD. ….you two aren’t like, exes or-

-ew, no!

-haHA! you dated gideon! gideon and dip-per sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-

-we were FRIENDS, okay?? …sort of. i dunno. it was a long time ago.

-heyoooo my drama senses are tingling! now you HAVE to tell me! deets deets deets!

-uuugggghhhhhh fine

-dipper and gideon have been rivals since childhood, but back then it was on somewhat friendlier terms. they would get each other in trouble, start fights over nothing, ruin each other’s stuff, but they would always walk away with smiles on their faces, like an unspoken pact to annoy the shit out of each other forever. but things started to change after gideon found journal 2. dipper didn’t see him around with the other kids as often. his tactics got nastier. he started “winning” more often. things came to a head after stan started teaching dipper to box. one day when dipper and wendy were hanging out together, they ran into gideon, who took the opportunity to tease them mercilessly. when he started going after wendy, dipper socked him, hard, in the nose. “i dunno. i was really mad, but i think i also just wanted to prove i was strong. wendy was always protecting me, so i wanted to protect her back.” after that point, gideon declared them mortal enemies.

-stan and wendy were definitely elated at the fact that dipper punched gideon. stan probably tried to bake him a cake.

–

DOUBLE DIPPER

“BAM! look out party, this girl’s on a mission! and that mission is to find a summer getaway friend group. woah, huddling crowd of teenagers! that’s perfect!”

-paz is talking with everyone listening when mabel interrupts her. “heyo! guess who’s here, it’s mabel, and that’s me.” “…..that’s great, sweetheart.”

-mabel is really excited to make new friends at the party, but most everyone starts hanging around pacifica. mabel tries to make friends with pacifica but paz rejects her, saying “listen, youre new so i’ll fill you in. it might seem like people like you and are interested in you because youre 'quirky’ or whatever, but you’re just a cheap novelty. around here? i’m the one who matters. nobody ignores pacifica northwest. adoring fans?” paz snaps her fingers and the crowd begins to shove mabel out of the circle until she finally falls on the empty dance floor. defeated, mabel shuffles off to the only people not part of the crowd (candy and grenda) “you too, huh?” “don’t worry. when we burn, we burn together.” paz then steps up to the mic and points at them, shouting “hey everyone, check out this adorable new attraction! it’s the reject corner!”

“aww, we don’t need this. the true merit of a partymaster is knowing how to take the party with you. this calls for an impromptu sleepover!”

-mabel offers to cheer up her new friends by ditching the party and having a sleepover instead, candy remarks that they were planning a post-party sleepover together anyway, grenda says how she stole a raunchy romance novel from her mom- wolfman bare-chest. grenda shows off that the book has a full-color illustration of gerard, candy remarks how she wants one of her own, mabel remembers that they have an old copy machine downstairs.

-“i don’t understand. i’m having fun, but i still feel this burning desire to go back downstairs and make her suffer for her crimes. crimes against friendship and partying.” “hey, i know what’ll curb that thirst for vengeance! theft! look what i stole from my mom’s bedside table!” “grenda, you wild girl! this is perfect!” “and it comes with a full-color illustration! his pecs are holographic!” *all three girls scream* “aah!! he is so rugged and brooding, i want to take him home with me and make him my trophy husband!” “ooh, i think we have an old copy machine downstairs! that way we can all keep the poster! come on girls, let’s go make our dreams a reality!”

-the girls end up bringing gerard to life because fuck the laws of reality, he emerges and says “which of you fair maidens brought me into this realm?” candy points to mabel. “girls, i think the party is back on!”

-“hey, fursuit, i don’t know if anyone told you, but this isn’t a costume party. although that would explain YOUR outfit, mabel”, gerard gets angry and tries to defend her by attacking pacifica. pacifica gets a small scratch on her arm and shrieks “are those REAL claws?!” mabel and candy struggle with gerard and finally subdue him (after he loses an arm to the punch bowl) by stuffing him into a closet. “you can come out after you learn to stop being such a butt!!” candy makes some remark about “at least we didn’t make any more!” cut to grenda either using the copy machine or already surrounded by wolf men.

-after the gerard squad starts running wild at the party, mabel gets an idea. “grenda, they’ve already like, werewolf-bonded to you, right? so if you’re in danger, they’ll come and save you!” “..i know what i have to do. hey northwest, be mean to me!” “ok, ok, just… give me a minute. ….hey circus freak, you’ve got arms like a gorilla and a voice like a wrestler, so it’s no wonder that the only boys interested in you are a bunch of wolves!” “…..pacifica, that was really mean.” “YOU TOLD ME TO!!!”

-maybe have pacifica get on the mic again so all the wolves hear her insult

-“grenda I’m sorry you have the body of an amazonian goddess and a voice like ten angels singing one direction!!” “yeah, maybe if one direction were all chain smokers.”

-the girls use this plan to lure the wolfpack into the kitchen, where there’s a sprinkler system connected to the fire alarm. the plan is that once all of the wolves are present, mabel will signal for candy to pull the alarm. however, once mabel gives the signal, it’s revealed that candy has been captured. “i’m sorry, mabel…. their pecs were just so shiny!” “i’m sorry i dragged you into this, pacifica.” “yeah, i’m sorry you dragged me into this, too.” maybe have them cowering on top of the fridge. but just when it looks like all hope is lost, the sprinklers come on anyway. it’s revealed that the first gerard was the one who pulled it, sacrificing himself to save mabel’s life.

-“you will always be in my heart, mabel pines. and i hope…..that i will be in yours…..”

-“well, pacifica, maybe now that we’ve worked together as a team, we can come away from this knowing that our fighting was petty and pointless, having gained a mutual respect.” “are you SERIOUS? all this proves is that you’re a freak, and your friends are freaks, and even though I’m gonna make sure to stay as far away from your little circle of lost causes as possible, the next time we meet? you’re going DOWN, and I’m gonna make sure EVERYONE is watching.” “……welp! i didn’t gain anything from that! maybe next time.”

-“i’m sorry that all this happened, girls. if you don’t wanna hang out with me after this, i get it.” “are you kidding? that was incredible!” “i feel like my heart is on fire! but in a good way!”

-in the aftermath, the girls (sans pacifica) burn the book. as they watch the illustration of gerard smolder, mabel solemnly says “this ends once and for all.” “….my mom’s gonna want that book back.” “once. and. for all.”

IRRATIONAL TREASURE

-pacifica overhears what the twins are trying to do and tails them, then ends up getting captured along with them

-LET ME OUT OF HERE! I AM A NORTHWEST!

-i thought we just established that doesn’t count for anything anymore.

-pacifica yells at mabel for doing something as stupid as leaving a trail of candy wrappers, dipper interrupts to ask her why she always feels the need to shut people down like that. pacifica tells him that its her duty as a woman of status to let everyone know what their place is. “orrrrrr you just feel so threatened by the idea that you’re not as well-liked as you think you are that you need to make everyone else feel bad about themselves.” “WHAT was that?” “threatened?”

-mabel gets her nerve back and yells at pacifica that why would she ever want to be liked by a stuck-up shallow primadonna like her, and throws a hunk of peanut brittle at her, freeing trembly.

-after returning to town, the twins see pacifica being berated by her parents for disappearing and getting her clothes dirty. mabel feels sorry for her and goes over to explain that oh, it was actually my fault, i was trying to uncover dirt on the northwest family and pacifica stepped up to intervene, and we got into a fight. also we totally didnt find anything to shame the northwests so you can thank pacifica for that too. the northwests then threaten to sue the pines family for hurting their daughter, but paz holds them back, saying something about how it isnt worth it to waste time on poor people like mabel.

-this is the start of mabel and pacifica’s budding friendship, and pacifica’s redemption arc

SUMMERWEEN

-hey, little man!

-oh, hey wendy! ….and robbie.

-so….. chilling in the bushes without a costume on? what’s that about?

-nah, i’d say he’s got a pretty solid 'loser’ costume lined up already.

-i’m just hanging out with mabel and her friends, i guess. this big legendary monster thing says its gonna eat us unless we collect 500 pieces of candy but y'know. no worries.

-sick, dude. and you didn’t even have to go out and find this thing yourself? your sis must be like, a monster magnet.

-yeah, she…really is.

-well, i’d help you with the mission if i could, but i’ve got this whole 'aloof teenager’ thing to keep up, yknow? no trick-or-treating for these old bones. but I’ve got a few extra sweets in my purse if you need some more handouts! we can go find mabel, and-

-NO! i-i mean… no, don’t find her, its ok, i got it, give it to me.

-woah, chill out, you little freak! you’re not HIDING from her, are you? …is everything ok? and don’t say it is, because nobody sweats that much when everything’s ok. not even you.

-……i dunno, it’s like, i don’t mind having her around, but we’re always together and she wants us to do all these “twin” things now and I’m just not sure I’m ready for it yet.

-yeah, i getcha. its gotta be a lot to take in. hey, if you need somewhere to decompress after this whole candy deathmatch thing is over, tambry’s throwing a party at her house in a few. text me when you’re free?

-just try not to dork up the place if you show.

-robbie, if you don’t lay off I’m gonna punch you in the dick.

-i just….. twins are supposed to have this special bond, y'know? like a mind meld or something. and i just feel like i’ve missed so much. things could've….should’ve been different. and i came here because i wanted to make things the way they were supposed to be. i thought like, maybe if we were together we could pretend that its the way things always were and everything was ok. but i cant. its not.

-yeah, i… i’m sorry, mabel. everything just happened so fast, and i couldn’t handle it, and i avoided thinking about it, and….i ended up avoiding you, too. i’ve been kind of a crummy brother so far, huh?

-no, no, i get it…. i’m weird, and this is weird, and you’re one of those weird people who likes to be by yourself. and i understand if you don’t want to be siblings. but… can we at least be friends?

-i don’t see why we can’t be both.

TOURIST TRAPPED

-hey, mabel, i was wondering, uh…… how did our parents die?

-woah, what? they’re not dead! are they?? you’re freaking me out, dipper!

-'sup, hambone?

-oh, hey….. soos, right?

-you got it, lil’ dude! so, what’s eating you? besides the mosquitos anyway. nice, good one soos.

-soos, have you ever tried to do something that you thought would make everyone really happy, but instead it just blows up in your face and everything is awful and it’s all your fault?

-story of my life, dude. probably not on this scale though. just a minor everyday occurrence.

-they probably hate me, don’t they?

-what? no way! i just met you a few hours ago and i can already tell you’re like the least hateable dude I’ve ever met. you’re like if they found a way to combine a smiling puppy with an anime fairy princess.

-but i ruined everything!! that’s what they’ll call me in the history books. mabel, queen of ruining everything. everyone was fine until i got here.

-it’s not your fault, dude. mr. pines had to tell dipper at some point. and dude, if it makes you feel any better, i am PSYCHED to have you here. i was telling customers about it all day!

-thanks, soos, but…. i should probably just go home. maybe if I’m gone dipper and stan can just forget this ever happened and go back to normal.

-you kidding, dog? nothing’s ever normal around here. i know this is like, a huge bombshell, but dipper and stan love each other. they’ll work it out. …hey, my brain just came up with a totally neato idea! why don’t we pitch a tent and have a sleepover out here under the stars? we could swap stories, eat raw marshmallows, and if you still want to go home tomorrow morning you can.

-….only if you’ll try to throw the marshmallows into my mouth with your eyes closed.

-deal.

-hey, mom. yeah i got here ok! it’s great, the woods around here are so cool and mysterious! oh, and i met this really cute guy but he turned out to be a bunch of gnomes under a hoodie. i know!! wild, right!

-h-hey mabel….can i….talk to them?

-…oh, mom, dipper wants to talk to you. is that ok?

-….hi, mo- ..mrs pines. it’s dipper.

-“oh, you must be the friend mabel was talking about! she was so excited to meet you! i hope you two are having fun!”

-yeah, it's…. it’s good to have her here.

-“are you all right, dear? you’re sniffling.”

-yeah, i’ve just got a cold. it’s ok.

THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE MABEL

-mabel sees a commercial for the tent of telepathy on tv and gets excited, pulling dipper over to see the famous “psychic”. dipper is annoyed at best and just groans, expositing that he and gideon have been rivals since they were little. he says he’s been trying to catch gideon in the act of something, ANYTHING, for as long as he can remember, and now with the help of mabel’s journal he’s devised a new theory: that gideon might actually be a vampire! he’s always coated in lotion, has stark white hair, speaks like an old southern man, and it might also explain his psychic powers. but dipper isn’t allowed in the tent of telepathy anymore, and he hasn’t been able to get close to gideon in his personal life. mabel offers to go investigate in dipper’s place, but he warns her that it’s not worth it and gideon is a “creep”, offhandedly mentioning that mabel probably doesn’t have the investigative skills necessary to crack the case on her own. determined to prove herself, mabel goes anyway, in “disguise” as a journalist so she can ask gideon questions when the show is over. during the questioning gideon becomes enamored with her, and when mabel asks if he’s a vampire he flirts around the issue, suggesting that he is simply to win mabel over. it works, and she agrees to go on a date with him.

-mabel takes notes on gideon’s mannerisms in the journal while on dates

-over time, gideon begins to reveal his true colors, and mabel realizes that dating a supposed vampire doesn’t really make up for gideon’s behavior.

-actually i changed my mind about the vampire plot, probably dipper just tries to keep mabel away from gideon because of their checkered past together

BOYZ CRAZY

“….can i confess something?”

“yeah, of course.”

“I’ve never like….. LIKED anyone. I’ve dated plenty of guys, and even a couple girls, but i don’t think i felt what i was supposed to be feeling for any of them. i thought that eventually if i went out with enough people, i would start to like at least one of them, but…. i dunno. I’m starting to think that i’ll never fall in love. maybe i CANT fall in love.”

“well… that’s not the end of the world! love kinda. sucks. especially when someone doesn’t like you back.”

“ugh, that’s what I’ve been doing to all these people! for years! i suck. i keep trying to be like everyone else, but i just end up pushing people away. I’ve lost so many friends…”

“hey, it’s not your fault. robbie’s a turd, you know that.”

“yeah, i guess you’re right… i dunno, you ever feel like there’s something, like, fundamentally wrong with you? like something fucked up in the womb and now you can’t ever be a normal person?”

[dipper pulls up his shirt slightly, looking at his binder]

“yeah. i do”

DREAMSCAPERERS

bill: I WAS WONDERING WHEN I’D RUN INTO YOU! QUESTION MARK, SHOOTING STAR…. AND DIPPER OF COURSE!

mabel: whoa, hey, how come soos and i get special names, but not dipper? that’s not fair!

dipper: uh, mabel, that’s not really-

bill: THAT IS HIS SPECIAL NAME, KID! ALWAYS HAS BEEN. HE JUST ADOPTED IT A LITTLE EARLY IS ALL.

dipper: wait, what?. you…you were the one in my dreams? all this time, it was YOU?

-new scene-

dipper: it’s just… the name was a big part of my like, identity, yknow? i thought it was so cool and special and for the first time in my life i was starting to feel NOT like a freak. i thought i was being cool but i was just doing exactly what bill wanted! [pulls his jacket over his head] aaaargh, what have i been doing all this time?!

mabel: di- …..bro, listen to me. your whole like, supreme tough guy monster hunter thing? it’s PRETTY silly. but that’s what i like about it! it’s all you, and you own it! and nobody chose to make you like that but you! and you didnt choose the name dipper because bill told you to, right? that was still all you. so, i don’t know. even if the guy who made it up turned out to be kiiiiiiind of a major jerk i dont think that means all of that is ruined forever. and if you stop going by dipper i’m going to have to start going by shooting star as revenge. star for short!

dipper: ….i think i like you as mabel better.

mabel: aww no, i was already getting used to it! star sounds like the name of a princess, doesnt it? or a galactic warrior!

-BUT DON’T YOU WORRY YOUR GEL-COVERED LITTLE HEAD, KID! I WON’T BE BOTHERING YOU LIKE THAT AGAIN. YOU’VE PROVEN YOURSELF TO BE EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTING AND USELESS. CONGRATS.

SCARY-OKE

-in this case obviously dipper wouldn’t want the agents around, since stan has taught him better than that.

-dipper decides that he’s finally ready to talk to his birth parents over the phone, but when he does they insist that they never had twins and mabel has always been an only child, and he realizes they don’t know who he is. everything he knows is once again called into question.

-mabel tries to get the agents’ help in figuring out the mystery behind dipper’s birth and proving that the two of them are siblings

-maybe dipper raises the dead as a way to threaten stan? like, oh you’re so afraid of the supernatural, what if i do this

-or mabel tries to lure the agents back to the shack by creating a supernatural disaster, like oh, say, zombies

-stan finally admits, with zombies breaking down the door, that he got mixed up with the supernatural and made some very bad decisions, although he isn’t specific about what happened. he relinquishes that he kept the truth from dipper all these years not for his sake, but because he couldn’t bear to admit that he was responsible for separating dipper from the family he should’ve grown up with.

THE GOLF WAR

-mabel and pacifica run into each other at the mini golf course, and after watching mabel sink the winning shot pacifica realizes she has feelings for her. furious with herself for developing a crush on somebody like mabel, pacifica challenges her to a rematch and vows to destroy her.

-dipper and stan are worried about pacifica’s behavior, but mabel assures them that she probably just wants a little one-on-one game and had to disguise it as a fight to the death since her parents were with her.

-pacifica gets to the golf course early to get some extra practice in, discovers the lilliputtians, and decides to use them to win against mabel, convinced that if she proves to herself that she’s better then her crush will go away.

-mabel becomes concerned with pacifica’s attitude and worried that she’s gone back to her old ways, bribing somebody to help her cheat. eventually she’s captured and tied up, and pacifica has to save her.

-in the aftermath, pacifica can’t stomach apologizing, so mabel does it for her. “hold on, dip. i think i know what’s going on here.” “what? no. you definitely don’t. whatever you’re about to say about me is completely and totally wrong.” “so i just want to let you know, pacifica…. it’s ok. i understand.” “understand what there’s nothing to understand” “yes there is! and i’ve felt that way before, too. even about you sometimes.” “wh…..huh? you have?” “yeah! all that pressure to compete really gets to you sometimes. but just because i beat you at something it doesn’t mean that you’re any less cool than you were before., ok? so i don’t want you to feel like you have to prove that!” “oh. yeah. yeah, that. yeah.” [awkward pause] “soooo…. you don’t hate me?” “of course not!” “ok good. that’s like, good to know. i don’t hate you either.”

-theyre playing truth or dare and mabel dares dipper to hold candy’s hand for the rest of the night

-mabifica bullshit: 'let me see those beautiful eyes’, holding hands post-confession in nmm, arguing about whether or not to run off into the woods together at night

THE LOVE GOD

-during a conversation with wendy, dipper casually mentions that he’d like a girlfriend. mabel overhears and decides to try and pair him up with someone. she enlists the help of candy and grenda for this secret mission, but notices that candy seems uncomfortable with it. eventually she admits that she’s had a crush on dipper for a while, and mabel is ecstatic. she conspires to set them up on a date at the woodstick festival. candy makes mabel promise not to tell dipper, but of course she can’t keep her mouth shut and blurts it out while the two are having breakfast at the diner. mabel expects dipper to leap at the chance, but instead he just feels awkward. he tells mabel that although he likes candy and thinks she’s great, he’s never thought of her like that. mabel urges him to give her a chance, but dipper argues that it will end badly. he spots candy nearby, freaks out, and runs for cover. it’s at this point that mabel meets the love god.

NORTHWEST MANSION MYSTERY

-“….and grenda can take a hit pretty well so she’d be the best choice for a distraction while i spray 'em with the anointed water from behind, but we might need pacifica to-”

“actually, dip, i was gonna ask if i could handle this one on my own.”

“what? why? we don’t know how powerful this ghost is!”

“because i, the wonderful mabel pines, am going to confess my love for pacifica tonight!”

“you only realized you liked her two days ago!”

“exactly! no time to waste when romance is afoot!”

“you don’t even know if pacifica LIKES girls!”

“well i don’t know if she likes BOYS either. she always seemed kinda indifferent to-

"even if she does, what if she doesn’t like you back? and you know what her parents are like, they probably wouldn’t want her dating another girl anyway…”

“why do you always have to shoot me down like this”

“…..i’m sorry, mabel… i just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

-“we did it!” “haha, yes!!”

-(internally) “this is the perfect moment, mabel, just go for it!”

-“umm, pacifica? now that we just beat this big scary ghostman together, there’s something i wanted to-”

-“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, FOOLISH CHILD”

-“….on second thought, I’m gonna go exorcise screamsville here first.”

-“that’s probably a good idea”

-{“WITCH! SERVANT OF EVIL!”}

-“i’m sorry. i didn’t want you to know this about me.”

-“ok, so, your family’s gotten mixed up in some bad stuff, that doesn’t mean-”

-“no, it does. you’ve always been so nice to me, and i never did anything to deserve it… hanging out with you, and dipper, and everyone, hanging around the shack….i started to realize that this isn’t normal. my parents aren't……normal. and now I’m just so scared that no matter what i do, i’ll end up just like them.”

-“….pacifica. i know you. your outsides may be crusted over with gold coins and expensive body lotion and hairspray, but your insides are made of bubbles and kitten kisses and rainbow dolphins high-fiving each other. your parents are a couple of stinky poo-heads inside and out and you’re not anything like them.”

[pacifica, crying, kisses her]

-“oh no. this was a mistake. I’m leaving.”

-“pacifICA WAIT”

-“what would you say if i said i was in love with you?”

-“i’d say you only wanted me for my money”

-“oh pacifica, your heart is gold enough to last me a lifetime!”

-“shhhhhpsshh stop!!”

-[mabel kisses her on the cheek]

-“no but really stop i don’t want my parents to see”

-“ohhh yeah sorry”

THE LAST MABELCORN

-things start out much like they do in canon, but when mabel meets the unicorn and it tells her that she’s not pure of heart she jumps to the conclusion that bill has “tainted” her in some way by taking over her body. the abuse metaphors here are obvious. she sadly returns home and begs ford to help her in some way, and he takes her down to his study. meanwhile, dipper sets back out with the girls in mabel’s place.

-“…..but it wasn’t me….” “what?” “i…..i have to go.” “mabel, wait!”

have it so like, she’s not necessarily visibly distraught when she talks to ford, or even to her friends, but more determined to “fix” herself, hiding the worry that she’s a bad person beneath her insistence that it must be bill’s fault.

“GRUNKLE FORD! bill gunked up my soul and i need you to fix it so i can be pure of heart again!” “…mabel…” “please please please PLEEEAASE!”

-“no offense, but you break the law daily, you two have kind of a…. mutual violent streak, and you……” “don’t say anything.” “and if being involved with bill really did disqualify mabel, then I’ve been doomed for years.” “you’re also not a 'maiden.’” “good point.”

-“man, this is bullshit.” “i know. how are we gonna find someone more pure than mabel?” “no, i mean. the game’s rigged. nobody’s completely 'pure of heart’ or whatever, and how do you even measure that? that glitter-snorting poser doesn’t ever have to give up the goods because she’s asking for something that doesn’t exist.” “…so how do we get the hair?” “well, i say if princess unattainabelle back there doesn’t wanna play fair, we shouldn’t have to either. alright, kids, who’s ready to add a few more bad deeds to the naughty list?” “YEAH!”

-meanwhile, mabel’s mind begins to be encoded. “i can’t undo what’s already been done, mabel. but i can make it a lot harder for bill to hurt you again.”

-mabel’s thoughts: “do you a favor” “have craz and xyler ever kissed?” “adopt every kitten in the world” “PACIFICA PACIFICA PACIFICA”

-mabel ends up putting the helmet on ford because she starts to have intrusive thoughts worrying that he could be possessed by bill, and she decides that proving herself wrong would put them to rest. “ugh, shut UP, brain! this is why we don’t talk anymore.”

-when mabel reads his thoughts, she freaks out and, unlike dipper, actually succeeds in hitting ford with the memory gun. he’s knocked to the ground and she approaches him cautiously as he rises back to his feet. when he explains that he’s not bill and the gun didn’t work anyway, mabel starts crying and hugs him. “its ok, mabel. you did the right thing. when dealing with an enemy like bill, you can’t fully trust anyone, not even the people closest to you. …maybe if i’d known that when i was younger, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

-“….i’m a bad person.” “oh come on, you don’t still believe that unicorn, do you? i thought dipper told you she was full of it.” “no, i… did something really bad today. i thought bill did something to gunk up my heart but it was really just me all along.” “wow, what did you do?” “nn. you’d hate me if i told you.” “mabel, you could kill a dog in front of me and i wouldn’t hate you. and if you don’t tell me i’ll just assume the worst.” “i AM the worst.” “ohhhh my god. …..ok, let’s say that bill did break your soul for all eternity or whatever. so what? you’re still my girlfriend. and in case you haven’t noticed, i’m pretty messed up too.”

ROADSIDE ATTRACTION

-“aww, come on! think about it…. just us girls, alone under the stars…” “eww, fine! i’ll come if you stop being gross”

-“i can’t believe my own sister got a girlfriend before me!”

-“romance ain’t a contest, kid.”

-“…yeah, you’re probably r-”

-“just kidding its definitely a contest. one you’re losing.”

-“he was… flirting with me! i think he actually likes me back!”

-“AAAAAAAAA!!” “get it, girl!” “candy wins!” “i wouldn’t get your hopes up, chiu. he’s probably just being a tool.”

-“pacifica, how could you?” “why must you deny true love?” “hey, dipper’s my friend and i think he’s great, but he sucks. I’m just being realistic.”

-“oh, no. i think i just agreed to take candy out on a date.”

-“….aaaaand do you LIKE her?”

-“well, yeah…………….as a fr-”

-“UGGGGGHHHHHH I KNEW IT. listen, 'dopper’, you got yourself into this mess, and its not up to me to help get you out. you deserve it for toying with a woman’s feelings, anyway.”

“candy…. saved my life. even after i broke her heart. she’s so cool…………………………………oh, SHIT.”

-“it’s ok, dipper. if dating pacifica has taught me anything, its that the way to a woman’s heart is through emotional angst and near-death experiences. and we get those every day!”

-“you deserve this and i have no sympathy for you.”

–

DIPPER AND MABEL VS THE FUTURE

same basic setup, with mabel hitting up all her friends for party plans, but the focus is on having to return home without all the friends she’s made rather than anxiety about growing up (although that’s still a factor). in addition to discovering candy and grenda won’t be around, she also finds that pacifica’s parents are becoming suspicious of her frequent outings so she’s trying to lay low for a little while, so she won’t be able to hang out for the last week of summer.

ford invites dip along for the alien hunt, and doesn’t exactly offer dipper the chance to be his apprentice, but is impressed with his adventuring skills and the fact that dipper has been training in the art of mystery solving for years. au dipper is quite a bit braver than canon dipper after all, and quicker to spring into action right after ford. theres still a bit of hesitation involved, and when ford praises him for his courage, he laughs and remarks that mabel would’ve jumped right away without any thought. ford then confides in dipper that although mabel uses her heart before her head, he can still see how scared she is inside and thinks it would be best for mabel to return home and cease connection with gravity falls, because he’s seen first-hand how much bill has hurt her already and he doesn’t want it to get any worse. he also tells dipper that he can tell mabel’s heart isn’t in any kind of study or quest for knowledge like he is, she’s just a kid having fun, and he can tell that its mostly because she wants to impress dipper and it might be better for her to focus her energy on her own interests, which can’t happen if she stays in gravity falls. dipper reluctantly agrees, saying that he’s always sort of worried about the same thing. of course, this is the part that mabel hears over the walkie-talkie.

for all that mabel and ford’s relationship is better, he still sees her as a child while he sees dipper as more of an equal. he warns dipper that letting mabel become dependent on him, or he on her, is a bad idea, because one day they’re going to have to go their separate ways, and mabel might not be able to handle it (implying that she’ll do something drastic to keep him around, like stan did to him).

theres a scene midway through the episode of pacifica sulking on her bed, hugging a pillow to her face. her mother’s voice calls her for dinner from downstairs, and she groans and gets up. looking in the mirror, she realizes her mascara has run and she scoffs and rubs at her eyes. when she opens them up again, the mirror is full of eyes. “something wrong, blondie?” it cuts off there

after mabel runs away into the woods at the end of the episode, pacifica emerges from the bushes in her full incognito gear, saying she came to warn her about bill. that bill tried to make a deal with her but she refused everything he offered, and that he’s getting desperate and is going to try again with someone else, probably before the summer ends. she tells mabel that if neither of their families want them, they’ll run away, out of gravity falls, together. when mabel realizes she has the rift, she groans, annoyed that she has to go back home and return it. but pacifica insists that this actually makes the plan better, that if they leave gravity falls with the rift it can be kept safer… and that, maybe it would be better if pacifica held onto it, since bill is targeting mabel. mabel agrees and hands it over…. at which point pacifica takes a moment to admire it, and then smashes it to the ground. she laughs, takes off her sunglasses, and is revealed to have been possessed by bill. then the world ends.

WEIRDMAGEDDON 1

-after ford is captured, dipper runs into grenda, as in literally runs into her, while she’s attempting to chase a monster in process of carrying off candy. the two travel together for the next three days, finally deciding to explore the mall in search of mabel and the others. on the way there, though, the two are ambushed by bill’s lackeys. before the fight can begin, grenda tosses dipper out of harm’s way and shouts for him to go on without her while she holds off the monsters. dipper reluctantly escapes, leaving grenda to an ambiguous fate.

-during that time, candy finds pacifica huddled in a pile of rubble, and urges her to come help find the others, but she’s reluctant. “look, mabel’s not here anymore, alright?! she’s gone. bill got her. so you can stop pretending to like me.” “candy does not pretend. not when it comes to friendship.” “….if you just left me here, nobody would have to know.” “on your feet, northwest.”

“augh, my poor hair… it’s got like, twigs and shit in it.” “do you want me to cut it off?” “what? no. why would i do that.” “it’s a symbol! in stories, girls cut off their long hair when they are going on journeys and breaking free, leaving the past behind… it is cool and majestic and– pacifica, YOU should cut off MY hair!” “wait, seriously? …ok, whatever, fine, do your weird impulsive nerd thing. you got any like, scissors?” “let me see….. six, seven, eight pairs! i also have a knife.” “candy, what the fuck.”

-dipper finds wendy, pacifica, and candy all hiding together in the mall. dipper is surprised and relieved to find that candy is safe and she talks about how she bit the monster’s hand to get it to free her, proudly revealing that one of her teeth has turned completely red as a result. dipper admits what happened to grenda, and while pacifica and wendy look worried, candy remains adamant that she’s strong and will be all right. hesitantly, dipper asks if any of them have seen mabel. the room goes quiet, and pacifica confesses what happened, that bill came to her and threatened to possess and torture mabel again if she didn’t let him use her body. she thought that if she agreed, she’d become a ghost like mabel did and be able to use a puppet as a vessel in time to warn somebody. instead she simply blacked out, and when she came to she was just in time to see mabel being sealed in a bubble and taken away.

-at some point pacifica confesses to dipper that bill never threatened to hurt mabel. she made the deal willingly because he promised her that mabel would be able to stay in gravity falls if she let him borrow her body, and she was just so scared of losing her, and everyone.

-candy’s arm is broken in the car chase and ensuing wreck against gideon’s crew. in the aftermath, pacifica uses the remains of her jacket to make a sling.

ESCAPE FROM REALITY

mabeland is nearly the same as in canon, though maybe with some minor alterations to reflect the events of the summer. dippy fresh is replaced by a series of “dream dippers”, versions of dipper that mabel had imagined he might be like before actually meeting him. most are unrealistically cool, but one in particular is just someone who would be the ideal brother, always looking out for her and wanting to be with her. in the end of course, mabel has to look at all of this and decide that real dipper is the one she wants. (theres also a fake pacifica who shares all of mabel’s interests and is hopelessly in love with her, always flirting and offering romantic gestures, but without any of the sass and personality that make her who she is. pacifica ends up snapping her neck.)

mabel introduces the dream dippers one by one like they’re contestants on a game show, but one spot is left empty. dipper asks who it’s for, to which mabel nervously replies that it’s more convenient to have something extra just in case. later on, in the wilderness of mabeland, dipper overhears mabel talking to someone. “i don’t understand. everyone can finally be happy here. wendy can break all the rules she wants and never get in trouble, candy can be herself without people making fun of her, pacifica can get away from her parents, and dipper…. well maybe i can understand why HE wants to leave, since he apparently doesn’t want to deal with me….” suddenly, dipper hears his own voice reassuring her that everything will be alright, and he’ll stay by her side forever, that the summer never has to end. she says “do you really mean that?” to which he replies “of course. you know i’m the best brother ever.” the voice is revealed to be perfect, ideal brother dipper.

crushed by this, dipper retreats to the pond, where instead of being approached by wendy he’s approached by candy. she sits down and asks him what’s wrong, and he tells her how awful he feels that he couldn’t have done better for mabel. she assures him that he’s a wonderful person, and mabel’s being silly for not wanting someone like him as a brother. she then tells him that she was being silly for being mad at him, too, that she’s realized he was right all along, and she should’ve forgiven him earlier. “really? …'cause i was totally with you on the whole 'i was a jerk’ thing.” then candy ups the ante, going on to talk about how oh, he’s so much smarter and braver than her, and she was just upset because she thought she stood a chance with him, but she’s such a loser, she could never- dipper stops her there, worried. he continues to insist that it was his fault, he WAS being an asshole, and he should’ve apologized to her a long time ago, but he was nervous “because…. i DO like you, candy. like, like-like you.” he tells her to stop berating herself, that he likes her because she doesn’t let anybody change how weird she is and that she’s not acting like…. herself. it’s at that moment that he realizes what’s going on. as “candy” begins dissolving into bugs, a fist collides with her head and she explodes. its revealed to be grenda, who managed to find her way in because “the door was unlocked.”

when it comes to the trial, mabel’s memories are similarly flipped through, but instead of having a twin to be there in her time of need, she had nobody. she’s never had anybody like that until she met dipper.

TAKE BACK THE FALLS

-candy and grenda’s symbol is a disco ball. “…and this one could mean a person who can see the fun in any situation! or just a party animal.” “hey, that’s me!” “that’s me too!” “it’s both of us!! SYMBOL SISTERS!!!” [grenda lifts candy up onto her shoulders and they each take a hand, candy on her right side since her left arm is broken and grenda on the left]

-“we’re proud of you, daughter. saving the world will be perfect for salvaging our reputation! i still think those pines kids are a bit of a bad influence on you, though.”

-“oh YEAH? how’s THIS for a bad influence?!” [she pulls mabel into a passionate kiss] “news flash, dad! your perfect daughter’s a big fat gross lesbian! and when i grow up I’m gonna marry this riffraff right here, and change my name to pines too!! so DEAL WITH IT!!!”

stan still loses his memory as he did in canon, but dipper is the most visibly distraught and won’t stop begging him to remember. he tells him how even though they fought a lot over that summer, he loves him so much and he’d never ask for a better grunkle. he desperately tries to jog his memory with baby pictures, but they need to trigger more immediate memories first.

the solution for mabel to stay in gravity falls would be to fabricate a lie that dipper is ford’s grandson, ford being the twin that faked his own death to escape a life on the run, but they’ve just come back to reconnect with the family (since dipper lost his parents apparently), and mabel didn’t want to tell her parents at first because she was afraid they wouldn’t want her staying with an estranged family member/ex-con. but she’s made so many great friends and she loves this town and wants to stay with her “cousin”.

while the northwests go house hunting, mabel invites pacifica to stay at the shack until they can find a new home.

rather than leaving for a new adventure, ford and stan decide to stay at the shack and rest for a while, just settle into their new family dynamic. soos, melody, and abuelita all still move in, and so the house is renovated to make room for the huge family.

with the journals destroyed, the mystery squad now has to start from square one…. but dipper tells mabel that she doesn’t have to do anything to impress him anymore. that he’s ready to try just being a kid again.

[su-homebroken-au]

Homebroken Chapter 4

I wanted to start off this chapter by saying thank you all so much for enjoying the story so far. Your comments give me so much inspiration and I hope I can tell a great story for you. This chapter marks the beginning of some fun, at the end of every chapter there will be a code to let you know how Steven is feeling. I thought it would be a fun way to look into his mind! Unfortunately, there is no illustration for this chapter. I hope I can make it up to all of you through posting something on February 14th on the official tumblr blog for this au! = su-homebroken-au Thanks for reading!

"There you are Pink.."

Blue approached the small diamond, the much smaller diamond admittedly. She had heard about what had taken place, though she had yet to witness the full extent of their conversation. She had come to check on Pink, to ensure she settled well into her old throne room.

She did not expect the diamond to run.

Walls had been built all around the place, giving spaces that only Pink could fit into easily, which seemed to be the case as she peered around. She is forced to come to the conclusion that Pink was afraid, but she cannot compared why.

"Oh Pink, please come out." She pleaded, looking around slowly. "I won’t take you from your organic, I promise.. I've even taken measures to ensure that it is cared for, and you as well! Please, come out so I can talk to you.."

There is a little click, the sound of shoes on a hard floor. It was so faint, Blue might have believed she had imagined it. However, that seems to not be the case. She watches as Pink stepped out from behind a pink wall, a single organic eye peering at her. Blue could see the damage it had taken, it's eye was void of everything and a hideous crack had appeared on it's face just below that eye. A peculiar thing, she had never known that organics could be cracked like gems.

Blue would sigh, sitting down. She would carefully lift Pink's organic host, placing it delicately onto the palm of her hand. Like this, she could see the thorns protruding from it's body, and the red liquid that dripped from them. How vile, Blue couldn't understand Pink's obsession with the creatures.

But it made her happy..

"I've always told you, you cannot argue with White. Look what happened to you!" She scolded. When it suddenly shrank away arms coming to shield it's face and Pink's discolored gem, she realized that she must be scaring it. "I'm sorry Pink, oh Pink.. Why do you love these things so much? I suppose you need something to tend to, with your court being.. Well, not existent."

Realising that Blue meant no harm, the organic would lower it's arms to watch her. It would slowly sit on the palm of her hand, and Blue responded by gently ruffling it's hair with her thumb. She was careful not to squash the thing and to not touch the thorns behind its ears.

She did not want to know what would occur to her if she touched them.

"Don't worry Pink, you'll be getting your own court again. White has decided that she wants you to continue to do what you did before, before you.. Well, fake shattered yourself." Blue stated with a nod. "You'll be keeping us happy, like you always have. You always were so good at making us all laugh."

It just stared at her. It's single eye was unnerving to say the least.

"We have two ships heading out, one to leave that human back to your colony and another to go to the Zoo. My gems will be retrieving some fruit to grow here to keep your organic sustained and shall gather some guards for you. We want to ensure that you are happy too Pink." Blue smiled at her, hoping that she was able to put both her beloved diamond and her beloved diamond's pet at ease.

She can't tell if it worked.

"I'll be finding your friend again too. I remember, you used to have a friend you would run around with. You would laugh and play, I know that energy will be good. You'll be able to spread so much more joy."

"We're all so thrilled to have you home Pink, you know we can't let you leave." Blue sighed softly, looking around the room. "I suppose it is good you're changing it. You'll need to stay here, I don't want you to do anything that could result in you damaging your pet and then getting upset."

"Perhaps, that human before? Shall I ask for him to be taken to the Zoo? That way, when you have your guards to keep an eye on you, you can go see him. Does that sound like fun?"

"Earth."

Blue recoiled slightly, the blank response had caught her completely off guard. Before she had sent Pink away, she was so full of life. Bursting with energy..

This was, much more subdued. Much more creepy.

"He needs to go home. To Earth."

"Are you sure? Wouldn't you rather he be near? How else will you be able to observe him?"

"Earth."

Blue sighed in defeat, there was no use in arguing with Pink when she was set in her ways it appeared. She figured that it would be better to not push Pink anymore. She was awfully hurt, while she had done this to herself Blue couldn't help but feel awful for what had occurred.

If only she had been more careful, then none of this would have occurred. Blue sighed, feeling tears beginning to form in her eyes. She sighed softly, trying hard to not cry.

She paused as she felt something. Pink had begun to rub her thumb gently, attempting to reassure her. Blue couldn't help but smile, sniffling as she wiped away her tears.

"Oh thank you Pink, I'm so happy that you are here." She would nod before setting Pink back onto the ground. "You'll be so much happier here than on that disaster planet. I know you'll have to stay in this room, but you know it's for the best. You can't let your subjects see you like this."

Pink only stared.

"I will be back later, okay? I will bring you your old friend and get your other things. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of Pink, I swear."

--

Blue knew right away that she would be discovered, but she hadn’t anticipated it to be so soon. Thankfully, she had already sent the ships on their way with their respective instructions when she heard the telltale sign of Yellow’s approach.

Her voice.

She is able to turn just in time to see her counterpart storming towards her. The displeasure and anger in her gaze would have been intimidating to a lesser gem, but Blue meets it a more apathetic unintimidated stare.

“Blue.” She started, and other gems are quick to disperse. Only their loyal Pearls stay by their sides, as was their purpose. No-one else had time to stand and gawk at the events that were about to unfold. “You cannot be serious! Actually sending the human to Earth, even when you have a ship going to the Zoo!”

“I am.” Blue states bluntly. “Pink wanted her human to return to Earth. I have given the gems instructions to check and extract the Cluster from the Earth’s core. With Pink here, we do not need to use the planet to finish incubating the geoweapon. It is her planet, when she is able to return to her duties fully I want her to have her planet ready for her.”

“Who cares what she wants?! She abandoned us!”

“I care.”

Yellow groaned, running a hand through her hair. She could see the glow of her gem spark along her arms, her agitation causing her powers to reveal themselves. Blue sighed, placing a hand upon Yellow’s shoulder. The other Diamond looked at her, shocked by this action but quick to relax and sigh.

“I didn’t..”

“I know.”

She rubbed her eyes, but Blue knows there isn’t any tears. It’s just a way to block it, a way to shield her own vulnerabilities.

“White wants her around to keep all of us happy. If we want her to fulfill her responsibilities, we need her to feel happy as well.”

“You’re only fussing over her out of guilt.” Yellow looked at her knowingly, and Blue sighed.

“Aren’t you too?” Blue manages a tired but amused smile. “That’s why you’re being harsh, you want her to behave –“

“Like a Diamond.” Yellow finished.

“Like you.”

Yellow rolled her eyes, and Blue could swear there was the tiniest twinge of a blush but it was gone before she could fully concentrate on it.

“This better be worth it.”

“It will be.”

Yellow sighed, she didn’t seem entirely convinced but Blue didn’t feel the need to clarify any further if she wasn’t asked. Yellow could do things her way, but Blue would do things her own way in turn. With an explanation that she had elsewhere to be, Blue left Yellow.

--

The garden was a place Blue had not visited in some time. It was reserved solely for Pink and her playmate Spinel, no-one else really had any reason to be.

She is certain that it is not meant to be like this. The dead and decayed remains of a once flourishing garden caused Blue to grimace. Once it was beautiful, but that was when Pink was here. She didn’t even know if Spinel was here, but after receiving her colony Pink never mentioned her once beloved friend. Perhaps she was here, tending to the garden?

She did a fairly terrible job at it.

The sight of pink against fading greys confirmed one thought. The pink gem was standing, dishevelled and waiting. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she stared at Blue Diamond in complete awe. Blue would have wondered when Spinel last seen a gem, but she didn’t even get a chance to.

“Wowee! Blue Diamond! Have you come to play with us? Oh did you bring Pink! I’ve been playing the game all this time, just like she asked!” The gem had begun to bounce, breaking free from rotten roots. Her legs curled under her into a spring, and she bounced even higher.

“Game?” Blue echoed, but shook her head. “No, no Spinel. Pink isn’t coming here, you’re going to her.”

“Going to her? In the palace? Whoa! I never been there before! I bet there’s lots of places to play there!” Her excitement was contagious, and Blue couldn’t help but smile a little. She was so much like Pink, no wonder they got along so well.

“Yes Spinel, you’re being given the task of keeping Pink company, and keeping her entertained.” Blue explained, gesturing for her to join her one the warp pad. Spinel did this without needing another offer, her excitement turning her limbs to jelly. She squealed in delight. “Now, I must warn you. Pink has changed. She has embedded herself into some.. Human child. You’ll need to be careful, these humans are very delicate and injure easily. She seems to love this child, using it to hold her gem.”

“No problemo! You can trust me! I’ll have Pink laughing and giggling in every era!” She insisted, before pausing and giving Blue a puzzled look. “What’s a human anyways?”

“Something Pink loves, you’ll meet it soon enough.” Blue nodded, about to warp away with Spinel. First she ensures Spinel understands. “You’ll be taking care of Pink in the palace, keep her out of trouble.”

“We’ll have the best time in her room!”

The warp glimmers to light, and they’re gone.

01101000 01110101 01110010 01110100 01110011 01101000 01110101 01110010 01110100 01110011 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000

[crimeronan]

daydreamed up a trc ot6 zombie apocalypse au full of drama

the catalysts for this au: “i want ronan injured and dying without a hospital nearby, and i want adam allied with kavinsky and burning up about it inside because he hates it and would never have let this happen if there’d been another choice”

it starts with gansey driving a bmw that’s clearly on its last legs (and who the hell drives anymore anyway) into a place that’s at least Rumored to have a safe human population and pounding on closed doors begging for help — “my best friend’s hurt he needs help” and as the oppressive silence deepens:

“hes not BIT I SWEAR SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE”

ronan lynch is in the passenger seat of his bmw chalk white and clearly dying because the only scenario in which gansey COULD drive into an unknown town and beg for help is one where ronan is too fucked up to stop him

 (and if you think ronan hasn’t somehow managed to take a bullet or two for gansey during this time youd be so incorrect. how does ronan manage to be around so much gunfire the answer is talent)

in some ways adam parrish has gotten everything he could have wanted from life in a way he does Not desire because being a working class hands-on mechanic with an intimate knowledge of cars in the post-apocalypse means sudden social status and influence and import

but he hasn’t Really gotten everything he wanted because hes allied with some people he’d have preferred not to and done some things for survival that keep him awake at night and he doesn’t have Enough power here to stop certain bad people from doing bad things without getting himself killed

gansey’s too exhausted and fried to find the charming personality that’ll move mountains and hes retired to the bmw (which is out of gas) with his head in his hands 

and when ronans lucid — which isnt often — he keeps trying to give gansey advice on throwing punches and knocking people out and hotwiring cars and stealing supplies in this urgent way that clearly means he thinks he's not gonna be around to do these things for gansey anymore and this is NOT helping gansey's state of mind

dusk falls and then night falls and gansey's pretty sure he's about to watch ronan die and not be able to do anything about it 

and then there's a tap on the window from a guy who looks like he was born from the ashes of the apocalypse and finds the end of the world incredibly irritating because can't someone give existence some other flavors

"i'll give you a tow"

gansey's not about to distrust a miracle so that's how he meets adam parrish

anyway before adam brings the tow truck he's like "i need to look at him" re: ronan because he can see that the guy in the passenger seat is Fucked Up and while it could be an infected wound — anyone with a survival instinct would not sit in a car with a bitten person for hours on end -- it sure wouldn't be the first time adam's seen someone get themselves chomped because they're too fuckdeep in denial to admit their loved one is a lost cause

gansey's like "he's not bit" and adam's like "i hear you but i'm not bringing you anywhere til i know for sure" 

and gansey has this moment of realization that this guy is currently ready to kill ronan and will not hesitate to do it and probably has a backup plan for handling gansey too if it comes to that

the difference between adam and gansey as people is much more quickly illustrated in this scenario than in canon

gansey has no plan for what he's gonna do if adam turns out to be one of those "can't risk it, gotta kill everyone with a stubbed toe" types but fortunately for everyone adam doesn't do wanton mass murder for the sake of murder he's just honed himself razor-thin into something extremely callous and practical

adam opens the passenger door and peels away what's left of ronan's tank top and the horribly old horribly unsanitary worn through bandages and he concludes pretty quick that this isn't a case of someone turning zombie but from the look on his face it's pretty fckn clear he doesn't consider the current situation much more hopeful than a turning zombie case

adam's seen the way gansey's called for help and has waited until dark to be sneaky helpful because reasons which means he already knows ronan means a lot to gansey and he already has a preemptive headache about it but he's like

"okay. don't be offended. but. scale of one to ten. how... attached are you to him"

"Excuse Me"

the ensuing whisper-hissed argument basically boils down to gansey going "i don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people" 

and adam going "i don't know how to explain to you that wasting limited medical supplies on people who are gonna die anyway is bad"

 and gansey going "okay well i'm not going anywhere without him and i die if he dies so you can leave actually" 

and adam being like [most longsuffering person in the universe] "i'll take you guys back to my place"

adam tows them to an old auto body shop that seems to still be serving its pre-apocalypse purpose because when you're a car mechanic who's survived the apocalypse it makes sense to settle down in a structure that's at least optimized for you to work efficiently

as soon as the bmw is safely inside the garage and the door is closed there's a tiny girl there opening the passenger door to look at ronan 

(gansey and ronan have remained in the car during the tow instead of being in the tow truck because adam didn't want to move ronan and gansey was not going to leave him)

 and she kind of sucks her teeth like she's appraising an unfortunate car wreck like "that's gotta hurt"

gansey's coiled up with adrenaline and ready to have the exact same fight he just had with adam except then she's like "okay let me grab my mom and persephone and whatever medications i can scrounge up hm. this does look really bad"

adam's very tired and in a mood and as he's getting out of the truck he's like "yeah well i tried" and gansey's about to be extremely uncharitable except the girl zeroes the fuck in on this like "you tried what, adam"

adam's like oh my god.  am i really gonna have to get it from all sides tonight and she's like "well i know you didn't try fixing him because it's a little more than a bandaid situation" 

and adam's like wow i sure have other things to be doing with my time and she's like "you didn't"

 and he's like "well look, the guy's ALIVE and HERE isn't he, so if you're gonna accuse me of something let's at least focus on that"

 and she's like "ADAM."

gansey immediately likes her

gansey’s also grappling with powerful relief because he and ronan haven’t seen another person in weeks and oh there are people here who can HELP

adam and blue continue fighting literally the entire time they're going to get maura and persephone and when they come back and when they're helping get a semiconscious ronan out of the car

they pretty clearly do this a lot because somehow even as they're each ripping into the other about their flaws they're also working together and with maura and persephone in terms of taking physical positions to move ronan and keep him stable and like.  they're not interrupting their argument with ronan-positioning commentary they're just managing to argue and instinctively move with each other anyway with no pause

gansey feels one grudging half smidgen iota of gratefulness (which would be full-blown gratefulness if he wasn't determined to have a grudge) at one point which is 

when they're moving ronan onto a makeshift stretcher or w/e and there's really no painless way to do it no matter how gentle and careful they are and ronan YELLS and tries to sit up like what the FUCK is happening

 and gansey's been keeping out of the way but he's like oh okay i am needed now and it's maybe three seconds before he's at ronan's side

 but in that span of time adam's managed to push ronan back down and is very quietly calmly explaining the situation to him without any hint of his earlier irritation or exasperation

and gansey's like so relieved that this guy is apparently practiced enough with injured people to have developed a calm bedside manner but he's also like fuck that i'm mad at you and you're a dick

the interior of the shop has been converted into an apartment space that didn't technically have two floors at first but sort of does now thanks to the miracle of loft construction and having too much time on ur hands

maura and persephone have the stretcher w/ adam spotting and blue drags gansey inside so they'll be out of the way

there's a blonde kid wearing a t-shirt and boxers with naruto bedhead who has the wide-eyed alertness of someone who woke up five minutes ago but now must be part of the adventure 

and blue's like "this is noah, he FAINTS AT THE SIGHT OF BLOOD" 

and noah's like "oh yeah i do don't i" and scampers up to the loft and disappears before the stretcher can enter

up in the loft a different voice says "THAT IS MY RIB" and then an entirely new guy (how many are they keeping up there) descends also in boxers and a t-shirt like "will someone please inform the resident golden retriever that i am a fragile waif who must not be disturbed" 

he reaches the landing just in time to see the stretcher being carried in.  

gansey's not really focused on him because he's watching ronan. anyway instead of reacting like a normal human being to the sudden appearance of drama the guy leans against blue's shoulder and in the most put-upon tone imaginable is like "blue you must start informing me when half-naked attractive wounded men are being carried through the kitchen so i can do my hair"

blue's like "this is henry. he's returning to the void now. henry get out"

the thing is after this expression of apparently complete disinterest in the ronan situation henry touches blue's elbow and the two of them exchange a quick look that gansey catches despite his focus on ronan 

because gansey is exquisitely versed in the language of subtle glances and very slightly angled eyebrows or mouths

ronan's getting successfully laid out on the couch and persephone's about to do what she can (in my head she's a medical doctor in this au bc can u imagine) and the situation is about as handled as it can be for now and there's nothing gansey can do except get in the way

 and he does have the presence of mind to realize he doesn't know much about these people yet and should be cautious and learn what he can

so when henry and blue casually walk out the back door into the much cooler evening gansey..... sort of follows them

there's not a lot of room to do hardcore sneaking so he can't get close enough to hear all of the conversation but he sure can see that henry looks more worried than the flippant cool boy he was just introduced to 

and he thinks he might hear henry mention someone named "kay"??

and then he most fucking definitely hears blue's snapped reply of "don't even start, adam's bad enough, i'm NOT putting up with it from you" and then gansey has to very quickly duck back inside because the pair of them are turning back toward the house

that’s about all i’ve got for this scene but here’s additional important content

eventually gansey asks blue why so many people drop in and out of the auto shop all the time because there's clearly not room for literally all of them to be sleeping there permanently and no one except adam seems all that interested in mechanics

 and what he's really asking but trying to be polite about is "you clearly don't agree with this asshole's principles so how are so many seemingly normal people giving him the time of day"

 (gansey is used to being on the receiving end of this conversation wrt ronan, he's never been the one asking before, it's weird, he's puzzled) 

and he gets SUCH fucking whiplash when the answer turns out to be "because adam's saved every single one of our lives"

blue's like "also he's my best friend and i love him i'm not enslaved via blood debt or something but y'know. the loyalty is hard to shake"

gansey has a very unpleasant realization of "adam protects these people like ronan protects me" and wants to unrealize it because that makes it a lot harder to hold a grudge suddenly

adam has no way of gauging how far is too far or how callous is too callous except that blue's there to be like "you sound like a supervillain and should take a nap" at any given moment

ronan has to take a while recovering and the fact that he sleeps a lot and slips in and out of consciousness means plenty of people have partial or full conversations in his earshot assuming he's not listening

 so he's gleaning a lot about these people and how they function and what's up with kavinsky’s stranglehold on the town and adam’s proximity to him

 which means the first time he's clear-headed enough to have a lucid conversation with adam the first words out of his mouth are "so who's holding your leash"

the second words out of his mouth are “are they gonna hurt gansey”

ronan: are they gonna hurt gansey adam: he wont do anything to anyone staying here first of all i’d stop being useful second of all i don’t let him in here ronan: [swinging his legs off the couch] cool cool adam: WHAT are you doing ronan: you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m gonna keep gansey around some bullshit chaos worshipping hell cult i’m taking my fucking car and finding a microsociety that isn’t taking pointers from mad fucking max adam: you’re in no shape to drive and i haven’t even fixed your car yet ronan: [standing, doing his best to Loom, clearly squaring up for a fistfight because that’s how he settles everything] oh yeah?? who’s gonna stop me gansey, from the doorway: me. you’re bleeding through your bandages, lynch

[sirius-archive]

Chaos Theory Chapter 13

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader, Fleur Delacour x Original Male Character

Warning: Swearing, mild smut, drug use

Word Count: 6,411

A/N: I’m finally posting this!! I’ve been working on it for ages and I’ve scrapped so many drafts but now I’ve finally settled on one I like! I also apologise for the format; I’m posting on my mobile bc I’m house sitting for a friend. I will repost later when I’m back at home but for now, enjoy.

Please be aware that there is a mild sex scene toward the end of the story and also discussion about underage sex. If this makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading. 

P.S thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this chapter!!!

***

Chapter thirteen

There is an old-fashioned code for people like him; honour among thieves. 

Darius has never been that trusting let alone stupid — stupid gets you caught, and he’s far too busy to get caught by the assholes chasing him. Darius has been in the business since he can remember, and he knows all to well that thieves have no honour, that’s why they’re thieves. 

Still, He’s always known to a certain degree that his own greedy ambition would thrust him headlong into a nest full of hungry serpents. It’s an occupational hazard, he supposes; there’s always someone with an ulterior motive, which is why he works alone. He can’t deal with snitches. 

Snitches are just asking to be killed. 

The one that snitched on him is practically begging Darius to kill him, and he’s going to grant the snitch that wish as soon as he gets out of here. 

Thanks to the suicidal dumbass, Darius now has to deal with the auror’s who have managed to invade his underground safe house.  He can sense them creeping through the sewage, armed with wands that have taken away countless lives. 

It’s all very...inconvenient the whole situation is. He’d just settled into his neat, little man cave. Now he has to find a new spot. 

Using wandless magic, Darius effortlessly levitates a giant dung bomb from its spot in a box and drops it in front of the door. With a snap of his fingers, Darius ignites the bomb just as the door bursts open in a cloud of dust and dirt. 

“I found him!” Auror douchebag murmurs into a hidden mouth piece and Darius smirks. 

“Took you long enough,” Darius quips, “Would you like a tea or a coffee? I would offer you something stronger but I’ve run out — I’ll just pop down to the liquor store—“

Auror douchebag’s lips bend into an ugly, menacing smirk, “You’re not leaving here alive, boy. You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book.” 

Instead of answering, Darius slants a glare at the auror, noting his height and weight. Darius copies auror douchebag’s stance and posture. 

“You’re not leaving here alive, boy,” Darius mimics, almost laughing at auror douchebag’s confused expression, “You stole from the wrong people. Give me the book!”  

“Stop that!” Barks auror douchebag, raising his wand, “Give me the damn book!” 

“Stop that! Give me the damn book!” 

Auror douchebag takes several steps forward, attempting to assert his dominance. 

“Stop playing games,” Auror douchebag snaps, “You don’t realise how much danger you’re in.” 

Darius takes a decisive step forward, straightening his posture. He’s significantly taller than auror douchebag, and the coward has to take a step back. 

“No need to be afraid,” Darius remarks, the beginnings of a smirk flirting around the corners of his lips, “It won’t hurt.”

Auror douchebag snorts, “What are you on about, boy? What won’t hurt?” 

“Killing you,” Darius replies, simply, “Well, it won’t hurt me anyway.”

Auror douchebag’s mouth flaps open to spit some dull remark, but before he can finish the dungbomb at his feet explodes. Plumes of thick, acrid smoke fill the air, clouding both auror douchebag and Darius’ vision. Auror douchebag splutters into his fist, distracted long enough for Darius to land a punch to his jaw and a roundhouse kick to his chest.  

Auror douchebag flies backward, gasping as the wind is knocked out of his lungs. His head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder as his lids slide shut and he drifts off into unconsciousness.

Darius smirks, “You should have let me go to the liquor store.” 

Concentrating hard on auror douchebag’s rugged appearance, Darius’ skin ripples and stretches, bones crunching into place as he morphs into an exact copy. Rising to his feet, Darius transfigures the unconscious body of auror douchebag into a rat just as his partners rush into the room. 

They sent the whole god damn brigade, Darius thinks with a flush of pride. 

Doubling over, Darius feigns a serious rib injury, rasping on a sharp, jagged breath, “He escaped! He beat my dumb ass and went that way!” 

The aurors stupidly follow Darius directions, rushing off to the other end of the sewer. Darius waits until their footsteps fade before grabbing his escape bag and scaling the ladder out of the sewer, smirking as he escapes into the night. 

When he finally finds somewhere to lay low — an abandoned mansion that’s most likely haunted — Darius drops onto the creaking, jarrah bed and unzips his bag.

“Finally” He murmurs, staring down at an ancient, leather bound book.

Darius studies the book he had stolen with curiosity, wondering why everyone wants this book so damn much. He opens the first page, noting the snake consuming its tail and the Scarab beetle fluttering its moth-like wings. What a strange illustration...

Beneath it, scrawled on the page in barely-legible chicken scratch, is a strange Latin incantation. Without even realising it, Darius mutters the incantation, not knowing the ripple effect those simple words will unleash on the world he knows, not realising the tragedy contained within the stained pages of the book, not realising what it means to his estranged family...

Not knowing that, three-thousand miles away, (Y/N) Arden startles awake with a loud, piercing scream, having experienced a nightmare that felt more real than anything she’s ever known.  

***

The scream comes just as the hour hand of Hermione’s quaint, muggle alarm clock strikes six. 

Hermione stumbles out of bed and fumbles for her wand, pushing wiry locks of brown hair out of her face and blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through her. She almost feels dizzy from it. 

More screams ring through the dormitory, issuing from behind the drawn curtains of (Y/N)’s four poster. Hermione hears Parvati and Lavender stir awake in their own beds, the curtains yanking open to reveal their sleepy expressions. Hermione rushes toward the (Y/N)’s bed, hastily tearing the curtains apart to reveal her terrified friend. 

The white linen sheets of her bed are kicked into a tangled heap at her feet as (Y/N) flails. She glistens in the morning light, beads of sweat coating her skin and drenching her sheets. Her eyes are wide and panicked, misty from unshed tears and her breath rattles in the back of her throat. 

Without hesitating, Hermione clambers onto the bed and drapes her arms around (Y/N)’s small, trembling form, holding her close. She can feel (Y/N)’s heart thumping in her chest, pounding against Hermione’s like a second heartbeat.  Hermione squeezes a little tighter. 

“It’s okay,” Hermione coos, “You’re safe.”  

“I-I-“ (Y/N) chokes out, swallowing thickly, “It was-it was right there...” 

“It was just a nightmare,” Hermione reassures, gently, fingers trailing down the knobs of (Y/N)’s spine, “You’re okay.” 

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath, a sob forming in the back of her throat. She swallows it and steadies her trembling voice. 

“A-a nightmare,” she finally whimpers, voice tight and small like a child’s, “Just a nightmare.” 

“That’s right, just a nightmare.” 

Through her peripherals, Hermione spots Lavender and Parvati peeking through the crack in the curtains, expressions riddled with questioning concern. Hermione dismisses then with a shake of her head and the curtains draw once again, soft footsteps disappearing to the other side of the room.

“What—What was it about?” Hermione asks, slowly, hesitantly, watching (Y/N) carefully. 

There’s a long, eerie silence. Hermione doesn’t think (Y/N) will respond, and just as she’s about to give up and go back to sleep, (Y/N) sighs, “There was this huge...shadow monster with these-these long claws and huge teeth and—and scratched something into the mirror.” 

“What was it?” 

(Y/N) exhales a shaky breath “The truth will set me free...” 

Hermione frowns, bites her lip. She’s heard that before, though she’s not sure where. 

“What else happened in your nightmare?” 

(Y/N) sniffles, “It was...peculiar. Like a dream within a dream...” 

“Go on.” 

“Well...In my nightmare, I had just woken up from a different nightmare. I don’t really remember but it felt so real!” 

(Y/N)’s voice wavers, her bottom lip trembling. Hermione can tell that she doesn’t want to be alone, and after what she’s just heard, Hermione doesn’t blame her. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Hermione whispers into (Y/N)’s hair. She feels (Y/N) nod, tears soaking through the thin cotton of Hermione’s pyjamas. 

Hermione settles into the bed beside (Y/N). (Y/N) wraps her arms around Hermione’s waist in a desperate hug that feels as though she’s clinging to her for safety, for reassurance, for comfort. Like she’s drowning in an ocean without a shore, waves crashing over her and pushing her further to their murky depths. 

Together, they lie in (Y/N)’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. Raw sobs and sharp knots of air tangle in the back of (Y/N)’s throat. 

“Breathe,” Hermione whispers, soothingly, “Just breathe.” 

Eventually, (Y/N)’s stuttered breathing smooths and shallows, her long lashes drooping closed. Tears stain (Y/N)’s flushed cheeks and she still trembles from fear, but at least she’s asleep.  

Hermione stays by her side, lying awake, watching her with a mixture of worry and curiosity, wondering with a tiny prick of envy how someone could look so pretty when they sleep. 

***

Ron — to his eternal frustration — is not as oblivious as everyone thinks. 

He notices things. Important things. Sometimes obvious things. He’s noticed things before other people have (except for Hermione because, lets face it, she’s a bloody nerd). He notices (Y/N) –– though, admittedly, everyone does, and he’d have to be half troll to not notice her. This morning, he notices something different about her, something that blurs the line between excitement and unease. 

In earnest, Ron doesn’t notice anything peculiar about her at first. When he enters the common room from his dorm, she’s cradling Nightshade and mingling with some of her sixth-year friends. He can tell she’s tired, though almost everyone is feeling sleepy from the previous nights festivities, including himself. 

(Y/N) spots him almost immediately and waves goodbye to her friends, practically bounding toward Ron. She flashes a dazzling smile, displaying a perfectly straight row of gleaming teeth, but there’s something about it that seems a little...forced. 

“Morning,” she greets, and Ron reaches out to pat the messy bun she had tied on the top of her head. She smiles broadly. 

“Sleep well?” Ron asks and (Y/N) sighs. 

“No...not at all.”

“Been dreaming of Cedric Diggory all night, eh?” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, cutting Ron’s snickering off with a well-aimed punch to his shoulder. 

“Oh shut up...” she snaps, though her cheeks are pink and the corners of her lips hedge on a smile. 

Ron casts a look over her shoulder, watching the group of sixth years she had been talking to. 

“How do you have so many friends?” Ron asks, eyes meeting hers again. 

She shrugs, “Mainly through that thing called — now, what’s it called now? — social interaction.” 

“Huh. Isn’t it annoying?” 

“Not really,” (Y/N) answers, “They’re not like my best friends or anything. I’ve only got three best friends...” 

“Don’t you mean four?” Jokes a familiar voice from behind Ron. 

Ron doesn’t need to turn around to know that his two older brothers, Fred and George, are standing behind him. He exhales heavily, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch George slap Fred behind the head. 

“Who taught you to count?” George snips as he watches Fred rub the back of his head soothingly. 

“You don’t count,” Fred explains, “You’re more of (Y/N)’s boyfriend than ‘best friend.’” 

Fred winks at (Y/N). 

George’s cheeks glow red. 

“Didn’t you hear?” Ron chimes in, “(Y/N) is already taken.” 

“Thanks, Ronald,” (Y/N) snaps sardonically, narrowing her eyes on him, “I’m relieved to know my privacy is of your utmost concern.” 

Ron throws (Y/N) a disbelieving look, “It’s Hogwarts, (Y/N). Nothing stays secret for long.” 

(Y/N) snorts, just as Nightshade begins to stir from her doze. She squirms in (Y/N) arms and she gently placed her cat on the floor. 

“Looks like George’s old sweater has found a new home,” Ron nods at her sweater, “Are you sure that’s hygienic?” 

Ron has to bite back a laugh. It’s almost comical, the way she swims in George’s sweater, so much so she’s had to tuck the excess fabric into the hem of her tennis skirt. He has to admit, she does wear the it well, though he can’t figure out why anyone would want to wear such a monstrosity of a sweater in the first place

George rolls his eyes, “I think now would be a good time to reflect on the memory of Ron projectile vomiting slugs in his second year.”

(Y/N) cringes, “Please don’t. I’ve been trying to erase that memory from my mind for the past two years.”

“Didn’t you nearly catch one, (Y/N)?” Fred smirks. 

“Anyway,” Ron snaps, glaring at Fred and George, “It looks better on you than it ever did on George.” 

(Y/N) throws her head back and laughs. Her eyes, though shadowed with fatigue, still seem to twinkle with amusement. 

Ron casts her a side-long glance. Maybe she is just tired. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ronald.” 

The four of them head down for breakfast, talking about the previous night and laughing amongst themselves. The twins and (Y/N) do most of the laughing, mainly at Ron’s expense, but if that means he gets to cheer his best friend up then he doesn’t mind. He watches with a mixture of relief and joy as the apprehension begins to melt away from (Y/N), leaving her brimming with happiness. 

The twins — to Ron’s dismay — decide to sit with Ron and (Y/N) for breakfast, where they wrestle over who gets to sit next to (Y/N). She eventually points out that she can sit between them, though not without watching their pissing contest with amusement. Content with her suggestion, the twins finally settle, Fred a little more so than George, the latter of whom keeps throwing (Y/N) strange looks. 

Soon after, the four of them are joined by Hermione and Harry and they all settle in to enjoy their breakfast. To Ron’s relief, the twins decide to leave after breakfast and with bellies full of delicious food, the four of them return to the common room. 

“You must be starting a collection of stolen clothes,” Harry jokes, nodding at (Y/N)’s sweater, “You still haven’t given me my hoodie back.” 

(Y/N) bites her lip apologetically, “It’s so cozy though...” 

Harry’s lips tilt into a smirk, “You can have it, it was Dudley’s old hoodie anyway.” 

(Y/N) cringes and laughter erupts between the four of them, the unspoken tension lingering from last night melting from the warmth of each other’s company. When bubbles of laughter fade, Ron and Harry begin to fill them in on what they learned about Hagrid.  

“Well I thought he must be,” Hermione says once Ron finishes, shrugging nonchalantly, “I knew he couldn’t be pure giant, because they’re about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can’t all be horrible.” 

Ron blinks at Hermione, biting back several scathing comments. Is she bonkers? He always knew that she wasn’t completely sane, but now it almost seemed as though she were deliberately talking crazy to egg Ron on. 

“And what do you think about this, (Y/N)?” Ron sighs, rubbing his forehead to keep himself from starting another argument with Hermione. 

(Y/N) shrugs, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. The hem of her skirt slides up a little, giving him a glimpse of smooth skin beneath the fabric of her stockings. Ron can’t help but notice the way Harry’s cheeks flush and he has to swallow down the urge to tease Harry. 

“Hermione and I figured it out almost straight away,” she says, matter-of-fairly, “Why is it such a big deal? We know Hagrid isn’t like other giants so why should everyone care that he’s a––“

Ron cuts (Y/N) off with a sharp ‘shush’, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 

“Keep your voice down,” Ron hisses, “We might know Hagrid’s a You-know-what but no one else does. He could lose his job!” 

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, “I’m going to make sure he’s okay,” she says, climbing out of her armchair and flattening the fabric of her skirt, “He’s probably a bit hurt from what happened last night.” 

“You’re right,” Hermione says, narrowing her eyes on Harry, “Harry should go with you.” 

Harry’s mouth drops open but Hermione gives him a stern, pointed look that withers any argument Harry or Ron could muster up. 

“Okay,” (Y/N) shrugs, flashing a brief smile at Harry, “I’ll go and get my cloak. It’s bloody freezing out there.” 

When (Y/N) is safely out of range, Harry rounds on Hermione. 

“What was that all about?” He snaps. 

Hermione leans forward, glancing around the room conspicuously, “(Y/N) had a terrible nightmare last night. She woke up screaming and absolutely terrified. Honestly, if you had seen her...” she cuts herself off with a sharp sigh, “Going with her to see Hagrid night help her open up a little and maybe you can tell her how you feel.” 

“I already did that!” Harry grumbles, bitterly, “And she said she loved me as a friend!” 

Hermione snaps the book in her hands shut with such ferocity, she startles the sleepy Crookshanks curled up on her lap, “Well who’s fault was that?” 

“—Alright, I’m ready.” 

The three of them jump. 

Swivelling around, Ron forces a smile he hopes looks convincing. (Y/N) arches a brow suspiciously, though to her credit, she doesn’t ask. 

“Ready to go?” (Y/N) asks Harry, and Ron spots the way her fingers twitch around her mothers bracelet. 

Harry jumps to his feet, mumbling an uneasy ‘yeah’ and the two of them set off, stepping through the portrait hole. Despite himself, Ron can’t help wondering what the bloody hell is going on. 

****

Harry is — well...

Nervous doesn’t quite fit it. 

He’s certainly uneasy, for reasons obvious to seemingly everyone around him except for the one person who matters, whose always mattered, even when he didn’t realise it. He wonders whether that’s because of she’s blinded by Cedric or if it’s because of something Harry has said or done. 

He claws awkwardly at the nape of his neck, clearing his throat every now and again as though he’s trying to gulp down that swirling, heated pool of feelings currently trying to climb its way up his throat. 

“Frog in your throat?” 

Harry tries his best not to jump. He was so deep in his own thoughts and feelings, he had temporarily forgotten where he was. 

(Y/N) stares at him expectantly and Harry sighs. 

“Not quite.” 

He clears his throat on impulse, and the corner of (Y/N)’s lips twitch.

“Still sulky about last night, then?” 

Harry’s jaw slackens. 

“What—? I wasn’t — I mean — I was never —?” 

“Parvati told me all about it,” (Y/N) interjects, a smile teasing her (perfect) lips  “Are you feeling better this morning?” 

Harry drags a hand through his hair, grazing his nails over his scalp to stave the prickle sprawling beneath his hair. 

“Yeah...though to be honest, Ron was more upset than me.” 

(Y/N) snorts, “Yeah he was, wasn’t he?” 

“I’m just glad he and Hermione have agreed to disagree.” 

“I think that’s the basis of their friendship.” 

Harry chuckles, giving her a sidelong glance, “Where did you end up disappearing to last night anyway?” 

Guilt briefly crosses over (Y/N)’s face, shadowing the light in her eyes and accentuating the dark circles beneath them. 

“I was...I was looking for my brother...” (Y/N) says, so softly he barely manages to catch the hitch in her voice. 

“Is he okay?” 

(Y/N) bites her lip, hesitating, “No...not really...” 

Harry waits for her to elaborate. 

She doesn’t. 

He wisely decides to let it slide. 

“Listen, I’m sorry I ditched you last night,” (Y/N) mumbles, “I didn’t mean to. I guess I was just annoyed at Ron, you know?” 

Harry nods in understanding, “At least you made sure Hermione was okay.” 

(Y/N) nods and sighs, looping her arm through his, “You’re both assholes, you know.” 

Harry laughs. He’s missed her more than he originally realised. He can’t remember ever feeling this relaxed with her since...well since last year. The unease he’d felt entering the conversation has drained away, leaving him warm and content in (Y/N)’s company as they stroll through the castle, approaching Hagrid’s hut at a leisurely rate. 

When they make it to Hagrid’s door, Fang gives a couple of raspy barks until he catches their scent and he hears the heavy thump of his tail against the door. A long, groaning noise issues from the other side of the door, like someone choking the engine of an old, rusty motorbike. 

Harry shares a worried look with (Y/N). 

He knocks. 

No answer. 

“Huh,” (Y/N) frowns, “Lets try again. Maybe — maybe he didn’t hear —?” 

“—Didn’t hear Fang?” Harry asks, stepping away from the door. Another long peal of that strange groaning noise echoes through Hagrids hut. Harry frowns, “And what is that weird noise?” 

Harry creeps around the side of the hut, peering in through the window. A hazy sheen of fog covers the glass, but through it he can just make out the sleeping form of Hagrid collapsed on his bed, one giant hand on his stomach while the other clutches an empty bottle. 

Harry laughs, “He’s passed out drunk!” 

(Y/N) rushes to his side, reaching up on the tips of her toes to stare into the window. 

“So he is,” she giggles. 

“Best leave him to it, eh?” 

(Y/N) nods, grinning at Harry. 

The two of them make their way toward the castle, laughing. 

“I should brew him a hangover potion,” chortles (Y/N), “Something tells me he’s going to need it.” 

Just as they reach the courtyard, a familiar voice rings through the air. 

“(Y/N)!” 

Harry’s stomach curls into a swampy knot, resentment climbing up the back of his throat. He clenches his jaw shut, grinding his molars as he and (Y/N) turn around. 

“Cedric!” she beams as he jogs toward her. 

Harry stares as his arms wrap around her waist, embracing her in a hug. Watching them sours the good mood (Y/N) put him in. 

When they break apart, Cedric laces their fingers together, beaming broadly at Harry, “Heya Harry. Suppose you heard the news about (Y/N) and I...” 

Harry nods curtly, “I heard.” 

(Y/N)’s teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, glancing uneasily at Harry. 

“We were just on our way back from Hagrids,” (Y/N) says, gazing lovingly up at Cedric, “He’s — er — still asleep. Had a long night I suppose.” 

“I think we all did,” Cedric says, giving (Y/N) a look Harry does not like at all. A delicate, spring-pink blush spreads across (Y/N)’s cheeks. 

It’s grating. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps. 

Cedric smiles sheepishly. 

(Y/N)’s blush deepens. 

“Anyway,” Cedric continues, “I hope you don’t mind if I steal (Y/N) for a moment? There is something quite important that I need to talk to (Y/N) about.”

Harry does mind. Very much so. But he can’t make a scene, so he bites back several sarcastic remarks and nods his head, “Sure.” 

Cedric beams, “Well, see you around then.” 

Harry sincerely hopes he doesn’t see Cedric around. 

“I’ll meet you back at the common room,” (Y/N) says, giving Harry one of those lovely, reassuring smiles. Harry, though, is too bitter to fully appreciate it, and the fact that he can’t appreciate it only makes him more angry with Cedric. 

“Yeah.”

With that, Harry wheels around and leaves, the remainders of his good mood tarnished by Hogwarts favourite champion. 

****

Cedric used to be a patient person. 

He’s been told by many that it’s one of his defining qualities, that he’s patient with people in the same way that they imagine Helga Hufflepuff being. Cedrics always thought that comparing him with Helga Hufflepuff is an exaggeration to say the least, but since he’s met (Y/N), he’s begun to realise just how patient he used to be. 

‘Used to’ being the operative term here. 

Because since meeting (Y/N), he has been the most impatient, the most selfish, greedy fool he’s ever known, an idiot in love who has completely surrendered himself to her charms. He can barely wait to be with her and when he’s with her, he’s found that he only wants more — more of her. 

“What is it?” She asks when they reach the Hufflepuff common room, concern creeping into her words. 

Cedric hesitates, chewing his bottom lip. He really doesn’t have anything romantic planned like their previous dates. He’s just a desperate man trying to soak up as much warmth a woman like (Y/N) emits. 

The common room door hisses and slides open, inviting them into the cozy warmth of the room. Cedric leads her inside, checking to see if anyone is there. It’s completely empty. Everyone is out enjoying the snow. 

Thank God. 

“Wow!” (Y/N) exclaims, gazing at the tree in the centre of the room, “That’s incredible! I wish our common room had a tree in the middle of our—“ 

“Do you trust me?” Cedric cuts her off, glancing at her lips. (Y/N) nods slowly, curiously, though there’s a glint in her eyes that tells him she knows what’s about to happen. 

Cedric kisses her. 

She’s surprised at first, taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss, and he worries for one dreadful moment that he overstepped his boundaries. But then she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, her movements swift and desperate and Cedric sighs into the kiss, tongue sliding over her bottom lip. 

Relieved and emboldened, Cedric presses her against the wall, hands roaming up and down her sides, relishing in the warmth that hums beneath his touch. Guttural moans rumble at the back of his throat as his brain melts to slosh in his skull, swimming with intoxicating amounts of dopamine and serotonin. 

“Is this the important matter you so desperately wanted to discuss?” She rasps when they finally break apart, lips red and swollen. She gasps when Cedric’s lips drag across her jugular, teeth scraping over her thumping pulse. She shudders in response, lolling her head back to grant him more access to her neck. 

“I hope you’re not too mad,” He murmurs, breath hot against her skin, “Though something tells me you’re not.” 

She whimpers when he kisses her collarbone, arching up into him, “Oh I’m totally furious.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you.” 

“I’m not so easy to please.” 

His lips travel up the curve of her neck, gliding across her jaw, until his eyes meet hers. They’re blown wide with what Cedric’s horny, caveman hindbrain recognises as lust; syrupy warm and obsidian dark. Those eyes of hers could paralyse even the strongest of men and turn sinners into beggars. 

She’s going to be the death of him. 

Licking his lips, he leans in close, gazing into her eyes, his voice a mere whisper. 

“I’m counting on it.” 

Their lips collide. 

All he’s been able to think about is this very moment. Since the moment he met her almost a year ago, all he’s wanted to do is drag her into the closest broom closet and kiss her senseless. That desire, matched with an healthy dose of love and adoration, has gradually filled up until it overflowed, drowning him in absolute yearning. 

He’s brought back to earth by a tug on his belt, and Cedric realises her nimble fingers are fumbling around it, blindly trying to strip it from his pants. 

Cedric leaps back.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, frowning. 

Cedric licks his lips and swallows, “I’m not sure you’re ready for—for that...” 

(Y/N) reaches out to him, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging him forward. She reaches up into her toes and whispers into his ear. 

“I’m ready, Cedric. I want you.” 

Cedric swallows, blood heading straight to the region beneath his belt. His resolve is rapidly dissolving and it takes every ounce of his willpower to step away from her.

“Are you sure, though?” He asks in a soft, reassuring voice, “We’ve only just made our relationship official. We don’t have to rush things...” 

(Y/N) peers up at him through doe-like eyes, lashes fluttering as a cute, little frown forms. 

“Do you—do you not want this? Want me?” 

Cedric bleats a laugh on impulse.

“Merlin, (Y/N)...” Cedric drapes his hands over hers, ducking his chin to catch her gaze, “All I think about is you. You’ve completely consumed me. And you know what? I don’t even care.” 

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, her teeth catching her bottom lip. Cedric gives her hands a gentle squeeze. 

“All I want is for you to feel comfortable,” Cedric says, softly, “You’re only fourteen (Y/N). Pushing you into a situation you don’t want to be in before you’re ready will hurt you. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you because—“ 

I love you

Cedric catches himself. He licks his lips and swallows, “—I care about you.” 

(Y/N) almost looks relieved. She clearly wasn’t as ready as she thought she was. 

“I care about you, too,” she murmurs, reaching up to kiss him. 

Eventually, Cedric manages to break away long enough to show her the common room. They take full advantage of the solitude; kissing languidly whenever they get the chance, as though their kisses are oxygen in a vacuum. 

They barely manage to stumble into his bedroom and collapse on his bed, giggling between kisses. Time seems to slow to a stop whenever he’s around her, whether they’re making out or chatting. All Cedric knows is her, his anchor that keeps him tethered to reality, that stops him drifting into space. 

Cedric wasn’t lying when he said she had completely consumed him. He doesn’t think there is a single cell in his body that doesn’t belong to her. It sounds cliche but it’s true. 

Together on his bed, the two of them drift off into a dreamless sleep, warm and comfortable, oblivious to fates cruel, cold plans. 

***

Luke wakes with a start.

He groans. His head feels like a small, rabies-infected rodent scratched away at his brain. His stomach feels like the rodent curled up and died inside it. 

Blinking blearily, Luke glances around the room. 

He’s in a cellar, surrounded by shelves of fire whiskey and butterbeer. He scratches the back of his head. How the fuck did he end up in the basement of the Three Broomsticks. 

A chill breeze sweeps through the basement, prickling his skin. With a shock, Luke realises he’s completely naked. Fleurs body is warm and soft beside him; her head resting on his chest, her hair splayed out like a silver halo against his skin. She’s equally naked, which is not a particular thought Luke really needs to process right now; his erection is already poking into her thigh and he can feel the round smoothness of her breasts as her chest rises and falls with her shallow breathing. 

Luke carefully manoeuvres Fleur off his chest, stuffing his pitiful excuse of a pillow under her head. 

He has to find his clothes. 

Climbing to his feet, he steadies himself on a bench, cradling his head in a large hand. His eyes snag on his pants and he dashes toward it, wincing at the obnoxious ache throbbing between his temples. 

As he pulls on his pants, snippets of the previous night return to him; the Durmstrang ship, inhaling the Nyx’s blood, getting blind drunk, stumbling around in the snow, having sex in the Beauxbatons carriage, in the prefects bathroom and the Black Lake and in the Three Broomstick’s cellar...

Luke’s heart sinks. 

(Y/N)’s face floats across the jigsaw puzzle of memories forming in his mind. She saw him. She knows...

“You look like a bloody mess,” says a cold, sniffy voice from over Luke’s shoulder. Luke turns, spotting a well-dressed boy no older than eighteen sitting on an armchair. His thin lips are pinched, his expression sharp and his eyes narrowed on Luke in disdain. 

“Who are you?” Luke croaks, squinting at the boy. He’s not sure if it’s the hangover or the lighting but he doesn’t recognise the intruder. His crisp Posh accent tells Luke that he can’t be from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. 

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” the boy waves his hand at Luke, as though dismissing him, “I’m after your sister.” 

“A lot of boys are after my sister,” Luke snaps. Within the span of three minutes, this fucker has proved to be a condescending, arrogant bastard, “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from her.” 

The twat rolls his eyes like a little bitch, “Or What? You’ll kill me? I’m afraid you’ll find you can’t kill me.” 

A stabbing pain slices down Luke’s skull. Something about this guy reminds Luke of his father. The likeness leaves a sour taste in Luke’s mouth. He curls his fingers into fists, grinding his jaw. 

“I may not be able to kill you,” Luke growls, stepping closer to the stranger, “But I can make you wish you were dead.” 

“Says the half-naked, hungover imbecile who doesn’t even remember how he got here...” the dense motherfucker has the audacity to scoff, climbing to his dumb feet, “I’ll find her myself.” 

“Don’t you dare go near her!” Luke snarls, advancing on the stranger, “I swear to Merlin I will destroy you!”

The stranger barks a cold, mirthless laugh. The more Luke stares at the stranger, the more he’s reminded of his human-stain of a father. The resemblance is uncanny. 

The stranger’s expression flickers, anger contorting the handsome features of his face, “You wouldn’t know anything about destruction! You’re just a boy drowning himself in toxins instead of being a man and making a choice! You’re sister is better off without you!”

Luke swallows thickly, the strangers words creating a deep, hollow fissure in his chest. 

“Who are you talking to?” Asks a husky voice from behind, accented with crisp and elegant French. Fleur is awake and swimming in his dress shirt. Luke blinks, glancing back over his shoulder at the stranger. He’s gone. 

Was that entire conversation real? Or is the Nyx’s blood still lingering in his system. Luke turns to Fleur, forcing a smile. 

“No one,” Luke says, hands sliding into his pocket. His fingers twitch around the vial of Nyx’s blood sitting like an anchor in his pocket. He retrieves it, shaking the vial in front of him, “Want some breakfast?” 

“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Fleur asks, walking toward him. She sinks to her knees, her perfect teeth digging into her bottom lip. She peers up at him through a row of long, thick rashes as she purrs “Besides, there are other ways to make you forget...” 

Luke stares down at her, watching as she tugs on the zipper of his pants. He lowers his hand, cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking her cheek bone. He guides her up onto her feet.

“You don’t have to do that for me...” 

“You don’t mean that,” she says, eyes not quite meeting his. She slides her tongue across her bottom lip. 

Carnal desire flares inside of him, jolting straight to his crotch. His hand slides down her face, fingers curling around her throat. 

“What if I do?” 

“Then you’re a liar,” Fleur says, her fingers reaching into his pants. He groans and she flashes a wicked grin, “A dirty, sexy liar...” 

A strange, almost toxic combination of desire and anger simmers in Luke’s veins. A sudden burst of possessiveness pulses through and he slides his hand from her throat to her waist, picking her up and planting her on the bench. 

Fleur delighted laughter tapers into a moan when Luke wraps a tight and slightly assertive grip around her neck with one hand. With the other, Luke pops the lid off the vial and inhale the glittering smoke that curls in the air. The chemical mixture travels straight to his head, curling around his brain. The pressure in his head seems to drain, healing his pounding migraine. 

Luke’s head is already swimming when he offers her the vial, and when she takes it, he drops to his knees, nudging her legs apart so he can kneel between them. He licks a white hot trail up her inner thigh, smirking smugly when he hears her gasp. 

The empty vial falls to the ground with a loud clang. 

Fleur wiggles forward. 

Luke chuckles, exhaling against her skin and breathing in her scent, “Oh how the tables have turned...”

“If you’re going to do something, do it quick,” Fleur taunts, he can hear the smirk in her voice, “Unless you’ve forgotten...”

“Oh yeah?” Luke leans forward, teasing her with his tongue, “How bad do you want it, Delacour?” 

Fleur is panting above him, “My guess? As bad as you do.” 

Luke’s heart races, head swimming in a hazy delirium. 

He dives forward. 

The stranger is already a distant memory, buried in the deepest, darkest crevices of Luke’s haunted mind. He’s never been so happy to forget. 

***

@marauderskeeper @weaselby418 @acciorinn @hervench@depressed-octopods-art @steph-fowlie @lilulo-12@randomfangirl117 @asofslytherin @seunlight@thebesteleganttrashyouseen @elsie2018@polkadotfairyposts @hylianhighlander @dracosdoves@siriuswitches @bernadineisreborn @lousimusician@randomoutsiders @smolldork @danidomm@xrosegoldwolfx @ashkuuuu @sly-vixen-up2nogood@tchalland @lucifersnipnips @notorious-fiction@peppermintspecks @sleep-i-ness @reducto-bitch @who-said @mhftrs @whimsicalangels1234 @kneekoteen  @steve-thotgers @qrangr @valiantlynervouschaos @klaudia-deer @bennie-badeend @gryffinclxw @steph-fowlie @acciorinn@fallern618 @alyenaaa @dammit-scamander @kararanae23@myhopeisinfinite @blaised-zabini @poppykoke@swansong321

[clevercatchphrase]

2019 year in review

So… The 2010’s are almost over. Huh. What a decade it’s been. Hard to comprehend how much has changed in 10 years. I can barely believe that I was in high school at the beginning of this decade, and now I’m a college graduate with 2 degrees who’s been working at the same job for the last 3 years. But trying to summarize the past 10 years in a single post is a good way to give myself an existential crisis, so let’s not do that! Instead, let’s just focus on 2019 because there has been more than enough shit that’s happened to me in this year to talk about.

PART 1 OF 2: 2019 AND 2020 GOALS AND RESOLUTIONS

Huh, looking back through my archives, I apparently didn’t make a tumblr post about my goals this year. I definitely had some, though. Lemme list ‘em off real quick, and then we’ll go through them point by point.

1)      Pay off all my student loans 2)      Finish some song comics 3)      Make art for my Redbubble account 4)      Finish the first rough draft/script of a game I wanted to make 5)      Practice ASL 6)      Sew some stuffed animals 7)      Finish some fan fictions 8)      Work on Ghost Switch 9)      AMVs 10)   Do some original writing 11)   Make illustrations for my fan fictions

Okay, first off, the student loans. I was actually SO CLOSE to successfully completing this one bUT THEN MY CAR HAD TO BE A WHINEY PISS BABY AND HAVE ITS ALTERNATOR DIE ON ME WHILE I WAS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THEN A BLOW OUT THREE WEEKS LATER.

GOD, if I had to summarize this year in two words, for me it would be “Car troubles”. I swear I spent more on auto repair in the first third of this year than I ever have just freakin’ OWNING a car. All four of my tires had to be replaced, my alternator failed and my car literally just SHUT OFF while I was driving, and I was barely able to coast into a gas station. Both my front breaks and rear breaks were worn down the metal and I only learned this when my car was barely able to stop after I had to slam the petal down full force!  I went in for an oil change, and they found some problems and then I didn’t get my car back for three days! I don’t even like owning a car! I hate driving! I hate my country’s refusal to provide universal, free public transportation! I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!

Oh-kay… number 2. Finish some song comics. I didn’t finish any. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work on them. I have made tiny progress, but that’s certainly better than no progress. One of these song comics I hope to be realizes is going to be a collab with one of my friends. It’ll be a long-time coming as it’s pretty low priority for the both of us, but if anyone else out there was disappointed with KH3’s ending, we’re gonna have ya’ covered… With SONG!

3. Make some redbubble art. I actually did this one! Not in the way I expected, but I added (technically) 3 new designs to my redbubble in the middle of the year. If you like butterflies and dragons, I got some product for you~!

Number 4, finish a script for a game I want to make. I… thought about this. I thought about this a lot, but I never put pen to paper, so… oops. It almost happened! I debated making this my main writing project for NaNoWriMo this year, but ended up having more inspiration for another story. Maybe next year? (god, I hope not. I don’t want to wait a full year just to write something)

Number 5, practice ASL. I just straight up didn’t do this and I only have myself to blame. Still keepin’ up that Danish Duolingo streak, though. 4 years going strong and not a day missed yet.

Number 6, sew some stuffed animals. Again, another one I just straight up didn’t do, but I have an excuse of trying to save money while my car crashed and burned in every other sense except literal this year. Hopefully 2020 will be different. I’ll definitely be able to pay off this last loan within the first half of 2020, and then I can start saving for whatever I want to buy.

Finish some fan fictions was number 7, and I did this! Well, I only finished, 1, but it was a story I’ve been working on for over 3 years, and it came out to over 200 THOUSAND words long, which is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of myself. Now that the big story is out of the way, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of working on Ghost Switch, maybe I can squeeze in some short writing sessions more frequently. (either that, or just wait for my car to break down again and then go on a writing spree in a pepboys. The lord and the fan fic discord know that’s solely why I finished my other fic this year)

Speaking of Ghost Switch, working on it was a goal this year too, and I did that! I kept it up all year and took a vacation in November and it was wonderful. While the major plot points have been in place since before I started drawing, I still need to script each arc beyond Snowdin, but hey, by the time we get there, it’ll be 2022 so I got time. (Note, don’t do this, kids. Script your stories and comics thoroughly before publishing. The road I’m on is paved with misery and pain and it will only end in tears unless I change lanes soon)

Number 9, amvs. Do people make AMVs anymore? Idk… the last one I made was... Jesus, 5 years ago? (it was a gravity falls/fall out boy crossover, if you were curious) I’ve been wanting to do 2 more for just as long, but in order for me to do that, I’d have to spend time re-watching the shows to find the footage, and then actually edit them together, and I just don’t…. feel like it. Maybe someday, but not any day soon.

10; do some original writing. I did this! For nanowrimo! I wrote the first draft of some original fiction I’ve been planning for a year or two now and it completely sucks! But it’s on paper now and I’m happy. Will I revise and edit it? Sure, but not for a while. I want to let it sit and forget about it and look at it with new eyes months from now so I can be sure I can make it better when time comes to rewrite.

11, make illustrations for my fan fics. Now that You Monster is done, I want to go back and add pictures to it. I didn’t do any this year, but I did keep a list of scenes I wanted to draw, so I have plenty of ideas to do as warm up sketches next year~ I kinda want to stream them~

So, that was 11 goals, and I successfully fulfilled 4 of them! That’s! Not a very good ratio… QmQ So, goals for 2020. Some I’m gonna keep from this year, some I’m gonna drop and some I’m gonna add. In short I would like to,

1)      Finish paying off that last student loan 2)      Put more stuff on my redbubble 3)      Illustrate my own fan fics 4)      Sew at least one stuffed animal 5)      Make an enamel pin 6)      Read one new book a month 7)      Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic 8)      Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make 9)      Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch 10)   Boost my patreon

Most of these I think are pretty self-explanitory, but I’ll go into detail just a bit because I’m on a roll and typing my thoughts helps me feel less alone in the middle of the night when you’re super tired and you know you should probably go to sleep, but the toddler in you is throwing a tantrum and doesn’t wanna go to sleep just yet, but you can’t fight the progression of time either way.

Number 1- I should be able to reach this goal by the end of March. End of June at the absolute latest. Once that goal is met, my secret new year’s resolution will be unlocked as well!

Number 2- I want to put more art of my OCs on redbubble. These OCs are tied to the game I want to make. There’s already some art of them up there, but I want at least one piece for each character.

Number 3- Mostly for You Monster. Embrace the cardinal rule of fan fic and apply it to fan art. If you want to read about see art about certain ideas, scenarios, or what-ifs, you gotta make it yourself.

Number 4- I have 3 potential ideas to sew. One is definitely leagues easier than the other two and will probably be chosen if/when I have the time and materials.

Number 5- This year I got really, REALLY into the idea of making enamel pins. Unfortunately it’s a pretty big investment (like, $350 to make 100 pins you  might not even sell). If this happens, it’ll probably be towards the end of the year, and if I get enough interest. I’m currently torn between making an original enamel pin and one based off Undertale. We’ll just have to see where this goes.

Number 6- Back in 2018 when I paid off one of my many student loans, I rewarded myself by spending over 200 dollars in used books. All these books had a theme; they were focused on dragons because I have a problem. I have not yet read a single one of these books I have bought, and I would like to fix that. I have, like, 20 unread dragon books, and even if I only read 12 out of 20, I would consider that an amazing accomplishment and money well spent.

Number 7- I currently have about 8 different WIPs I could work on. (well, I don’t know if I can even call them wips. More like, a general idea and a title written down.) I want to build good writing habits, and if I can write just 200 words a day, hell, even 200 words a week and just one of my 8 stories done, I would consider this goal met.

Number 8- I’m torn between making my game in unity or ren’py. I know jack shit about both. Ren’py is more user friendly, but unity will allow me more customization. (Lol, can you guess what kind of game I want to make yet?)

Number  9- I really just want the full story to be done and written incase anything goes horribly terribly wrong in my life and I find myself unable to continue making ghost switch in comic form. Then at least I can finish the story by other means, you know?

Number 10- It always surprises me every month when I get that patreon email saying I got paid. Sure, I don’t even make double digits on it, but it still awes me enough to know that people out there like my work enough to throw me a tip. I can’t thank my patrons enough for supporting me and I hope to one day be in such a good place I can update my comic/song comics/writing frequently enough without need for goals or milestones. But until that magical day arrives, money is always a great incentive for anything, I suppose. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 ALRIGHT. PART 2 OF 2: SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN 2019

Cheesus crust what a year. This year started off great! Back in late January Kingdom Hearts 3 FINALLY released, and let me tell you a little story. Back in the summer of 2006 I was a 13 year old middle schooler with no way of making money other than by doing house hold chores at a rate of 25 cents a task. A few weeks ago, I had a sleep over at a friend’s house and they let me play this weird game called “Kingdom Hearts” and god, I was instantly hooked on it. That summer, I did over 800 chores, enough to earn myself 200$ and buy myself a playstation 2 (just in time for the ps3 to come out, gg me) The only games I had for the ps2 were KH1, 2, Re:CoM and Okami, and I beat them all… except Okami. Miffed that the PS3 wouldn’t allow for backwards compatibility, little 13-year-old me made a promise. I looked myself in the mirror and said “I will not buy the next playstation console until KH3 comes out, AND BOY that was probably a good choice for me to make with my level of gaming. I’m even less of a casual gamer than the average casual gamer, but I have been waiting 13 years for this piece of closure, and I even told my friends and family that “the day Kingdom Hearts 3 comes out is the day I will buy a playstation 4”. My dad apparently thought this was the funniest shit, because he literally took the day off from work that Friday to drive me on base to get the game and console (he thought it would be less crowded than a regular walmart, I suppose). I paid $400 on a ps4 pro while he bought me the game. Again, I have an impecible sense of timing seeing as the PS5 is now right on the horrizion, but just like before, I’m not buying a new console until the next KH game is released. See you in 2045, sony~. While I was at the gamestop on base, I also picked up Okami HD and The Last Guardian. For all of February and even early March, I took my time playing through KH3. And…! It was the best disappointment I’ve ever played. After a month away from gaming, I started The Last Guardian and finished it in a couple weeks. I love trico and would die for him, but trying to get 100% completion on that game is udder insanity. Okami, HD, however… again after a month break after finishing TLG, I started replaying Okami. I think I had only managed to get about halfway through the game before I just… stopped playing it on my ps2 version. I am currently SO CLOSE to getting a 100% on the ps4 version. In fact, I’ve beaten the game. I only (techinically) need 2 more trophies to be done; 1st, escape the water dragon without being eaten, 2nd, I need to beat that dumb stupid race with Kai, in order to get the last bead on my rosary, as well as the top dog trophy. I hate her so much. I hate this race so much. It’s awful and bad.

Flash forward to December! Earlier this month I was at Barnes and Noble, buying myself a planner for 2020. I exit the store and notice that there’s a gamestop across the street. For shits and giggles I go inside to look at their game selection, and I find KH 1.5 and 2.5. Now, my PS2 died a few years back (it just won’t read my discs anymore, I don’t know why) and I haven’t been able to replay any of my other kingdom hearts games since. If you had seen me the day I finished kingdom hearts 3, after the ending credits rolled, you would have heard me say “Man…. I wish I could play kingdom hearts 2 again”. AND NOW I CAN, ALONG WITH BBS which I had never even played yet, but knew the story of. I’ve restarted playing kh1, and I was so happy to hear that familiar music when I booted the game up for the first time. While at the game stop, I also picked up Rime and Tearaway, two games that had looked interesting to me. At the time of writing, I’ve finished Rime and am 25% done with tearaway. Rime was…. An interesting experience. I learned about it through Jacksepticeye’s channel a couple years back and thought the art style was enticing. For a super casual gamer like me, I found the puzzles just the right level of challenging and exploring was a blast! The music gave me VERY strong Princes Mononoke vibes, but the overall story left something to be desired. Overall I had fun, and enjoyed completing this game to 100%. Now for tearaway. Can I just say this game is super fucking adorable? I know the original was on the ps vita and the gameplay there was arguably more diverse and imaginative, but this game is just so fucking cute I don’t care?? ALSO, this game’s sound track is ABSOLUTELY incredible and I’ve only heard the first fourth of it! Listen to The Orchards, Pig Riding, and Gibbet Hill Pilgrimage for a taste of their wonderful beats and fantastic use of string and woodwinds! God, I’m so excited to get some more games in 2020. I’m proud to say I currently own more ps4 games than I ever did with my ps2 (and now the majority AREN’T Kingdom Hearts titles!), and I’m still hoping to play Journey, The Witness, and Abzu before everything becomes ps5.

What else happened to me this year. Oh, I went to a doctor for, like, the first time in seven years. I also had my blood drawn for the first time ever, and the nurse said the most disturbing thing to me while she did it. Now, whenever I get shots, I refuse to look. I did that here. So she thought it would be appropriate to say to me “Can you feel your blood leaving your body?” Lady… You can clearly see I am uncomfortable with what is happening here. Why, of all the things you could say, did you choose to say that. Unfortunately, while my doctor is nice, she keeps wanting to run tests on me, that I just cannot afford with my current salary, and my monthly insurance is about to go up to 200$ a month, so I’ve cancelled my next appointment with them, and don’t plan to go back until it’s absolutely necessary. Capitalism is fun, guys. Preventative healthcare is for wusses.

I started going to a chiropractor on a monthly basis. Story time- I don’t know when it started, but sometime late last November I began to notice that I had a headache that just... wasn’t... going away? And each day it was starting to get a little worse. It made it hard for me to find a comfortable position to sleep, it made it hard for me to be in bright areas or move fast. So I said to myself “Okay, if this headache persist through the month of december, then something is proooobably wrong and I should go see someone about it. And hoo-boy were thing wrong with me. By the time this January rolled around, I couldn’t even stay on my feet for more than a few hours without it physically hurting to just BREATHE. So I started going to this chain called The Joint (A+ name, I know). THey aksed me “How are you doing?” I said “I’m in pain” and they said “We can help fix that!”. I’ve only been to a chiropractor once before in my life a few years back after my freshmen year of college because I began to notice my hips weren’t able to support me? LIke, I would lie on my back, and I couldn’t push my hips up when my feet were flat on the floor. I also couldn’t climb anything steep, because my legs just couldn’t push me up if my knee had to bend more than 90 degrees when I lifted my leg up. (Turned out both my hips were apparently out of place). This time only one of my hips were out of place (which they fixed. they said one of my legs was an inch “longer” than the other because I had been leaning all my weight on one leg when I stand). But two of my ribs were apparently “Stuck” which was why it was hurting for me to just breathe, and one of my shoulders was missaligned too, causing one of my trap muscles to constantly be streched, which was pulling on my skull, and causing the headache. Anyway, after they popped all my bones back into place, I still felt terrible, but by god, that night was the first time in weeks I was able to sleep without a migrane. A chiropractor can’t magically heal your arthritis, or fibro, but I definately think they have merit to keeping your posture good and helping your body with things like circulation. 10 outa 10, would recomend. It’s all the fun of getting your neck snapped without the dying!

Earlier this month I got together with two of my friends and we baked Christmas cookies. It was a lot of fun, as well as a great learning experience. A member of my family has a gluten allergy, so we used rice flour for most of the cookies. We learned this is a bad idea! The cookies will just fall apart! A few member’s in one of the friend’s family have nut allergies. Other friend and I knew this and were careful to avoid cookie recipes with nuts, bUT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT ALMOND MILK AND ALMOND EXTRACT COUNT AS NUT. IN FACT, ALMOND EXTRACT IS PURE CONCENTRATED NUT JUICE AND WE FELT SO BAD FOR ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY POISONING THE FAMILY.

Earlier this year me and these same friends took a field trip to Hobby Lobby and just dicked around the store for a couple of hours. It was super fun, 11 outa 10, would recommend, a great date idea for your artsy S.O.

Back in May I went to a wedding for the first time in my life. (well, not true, but the first one I could remember) we left at 5am, drove 5 hours to get there, hung out at a zoo and spent the night in a la quinta before the wedding day. I slept on the bathroom floor because my mom was snoring too loud in the main room and keeping me awake, and the rest of the day was just spent me trying to keep myself together because I was pissed off and tired.

Other than all of that, nothing really major happened to me this year. I guess one more thing I’ve tried to do this year is started the process of breaking certain internet addictions so I can use my free time for more personal projects. Seriously, I found myself watching way too much youtube and following blogs that didn’t even make me happy. I had a personal intervention with myself where I sat down and asked myself, “why do you watch these videos and youtubers? Why do you follow these blogs? Do you really enjoy their content? Do you really care? If you stopped watching/following them, would you even notice?” After critically thinking it over, I’ve found myself unfollowing several channels and blogs and suddenly I feel so much happier. I thought I would miss it, but I realized I didn’t really care if I saw their content or not. I wasn’t missing much. And now I feel like I have more time to draw, read and write. If you think you spend too much time consuming and not enough time creating, I suggest you try and de-clutter your internet habits as well. It’s done wonders to un-fuck my headspace.

And… well, that about sums up my year. How are your holidays going? Anything fun, exciting, dramatic happen to you this year? I hope your new year is warm and safe! Good night, everybody!

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1999

A list with quite possibly the most embarrassing #1 yet, and considering some of the previous ones, that’s really saying something.

Also, a very, very long list of honorable mentions.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This could have almost been a top fifteen, because holy f█cking shit look at this list of honorable mentions. I might eventually make a top 15 for some years (gosh I just finished my 2013 top and it’s a massacre of good songs, an absolute disaster, and I’m seriously considering making it a top 15 or 20 I swear), but for now, it’s still manageable.

Summer Son (Texas) - Why is this so hot. The lyrics aren’t even hot in the first place. What the hell.

That Don’t Impress Me Much (Shania Twain) - Not my favorite song from her but still very good. Fun fact, one of my English teachers was using songs as dictation exercises and that was the hardest one he ever used for that. I don’t think any of us got the Elvis line right. Also he’s solely responsible for me loving The Cure because the second song he used for this kind of exercise was Boys Don’t Cry. This has nothing to do with Shania Twain but I thought it was a fun little story to tell.

Jusqu’au Bout de la Nuit (Emile et Images) - Two French bands from the eighties team up and release a song which is composed of every single one of their hit songs from the eighties, with each chorus sung one after the other, and... it sounds great? And it charted?? My brother absolutely loved them, too. The only reason it’s not on the list is that it feels like cheating, in a way. I mean, half these songs could top some of my lists on their own. Putting them together is a dirty trick, guys! Oh well, I love you all anyway.

Baby One More Time (Britney Spears) - I really love this song and it was on the list at first, but overplay played a big role in its removal from it.

L’Ame Stram Gram (Mylène Farmer) - Has the privilege of being the first Mylène Farmer music video I ever saw in my life. Was incredibly confused but also fascinated. The song isn’t her best though, and she’s on so many of these lists that I claim self care on its removal from this one, especially because, uh... she’s still gonna appear on it anyway. Damn it.

Move Your Body (Eiffel 65) - I told you I loved stupid dance music didn’t I. Unfortunately things aren’t gonna get better as years pass. I just made a list (which is gonna be posted muuuuuuch later) where I put David Guetta six places higher than Adele. This isn’t a joke.

Save Tonight (Eagle Eye Cherry) - I genuinely love this song and it’s kinda sad I couldn’t fit it on any of the two lists where it was elligible.

La Manivelle (Wazoo) - This would NEVER have charted if La Tribu de Dana by Manau hadn’t been such an enormous hit the previous year. Not in a million years. And if it hadn’t, the world would have been a little less fun. So I’m glad. I love it and it was one of the last cuts from this list.

Kiss Me (Sixpence None the Richer) - Was also on the list at first. Was removed because it never ended on any compilation I made and that’s the only reason.

Well, that was long. Here’s the proper list.

10 - Crazy (Britney Spears)

US: Not on the list?? I was very surprised / FR: #14

So I dug up the first cd compilations I ever made for the previous list, and look what’s the first song on the third compilation I ever made!

Relistened to it, still love it to bits, put it on the list. Sorry Kiss Me.

9 - All Star (Smash Mouth)

US: #17 / FR: Not on the list

I know it’s impossible to listen to it with fresh ears after something like 15 years of memes. But it’s still damn good and a ton of fun to sing along with it.

8 - Ma Baker 99 (Boney M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

Where’s that photo of the cd compilation I mentioned in the previous list?

There it is.

Yep, it’s a remix, but it charted here, and it sounds and looks absolutely fantastic. I had never heard the original at the time for some reason, and that song sounded so badass. I could only understand isolated bits of the lyrics (like “she was the meanest cat in all Chicago town”, “the cops appeared too soon they couldn’t get away”, “she never could cry”) but it was enough to get a general idea, and that was back when I was starting to realise than most of the dance songs I enjoyed as a kid didn’t tell stories and weren’t about wizards and magic. So, a song about a mean woman who’s also a gangster?? I was like, wow, nice, a song I like with an actual story, give me twenty.

7 - Boom Boom Boom Boom (Vengaboys)

US: Not on the list / FR: #20

Told you I loved Vengaboys! It’s also on that third cd compilation I ever made!

Fun fact, at the time, for a while I didn’t know what the lyrics were and since I only knew a couple of words of English I was convinced a “broom” was somehow involved in the lyrics instead of a “room”.

6 - Souviens-toi du jour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #73

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ; I used to be a huge fan of her as a teenager and my brain somehow links her and her songs in general to some dark times in my life - and so, every single time she appears on one of my lists, I feel like I’m texting an unstable ex and that things will end horribly and I probably shouldn’t do that but, ugh, can’t help it, love her too much.

Ok so the first seconds are actually painful to listen to but holy shit, that’s a beautiful, beautiful song. When the chorus swells near the end, so full of hope and light? Amazing. Chills on my arms every single time. That’s from one of her best albums, too. I have nothing more to say about it.

5 - Better Off Alone (Alice Deejay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

I don’t have anything to say about this one apart from the fact one of my friends around 2005 thought the lyrics were “do you think you’re better? rofl lol” and I think that’s hilarious.

Moving on to- oh shit oh no not that song

4 - Je te rends ton amour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #97

What I said in #6 also applies here and this song is so dark it feels even worse. That song used to be very important in my life. Bad memories, bad times. Really, really bad times.

So. Uh. This is a song about a woman in a painting, who’s despising her creator, and possibly (that’s very, very open to interpretation, here’s a translation) coming out of her frame to kill him. That’s quite possibly the weirdest story I’ve ever heard in a song, and I love it. And it sounds so sinister. God, the first notes. They are so ominous. And that brief moment of silence after the bridge, right before the guitar explodes again? Horrible chills. I’m not sure who killed who or what actually happened in the story but press F to pay respects.

Also the music video has nothing to do with the lyrics and it’s absolutely terrifying and I shouldn’t have watched this at 14 because it’s kinda burned into my mind now and it will never go away and you probably shouldn’t watch it either.

If it wasn’t so inextricably linked to bad memories, this song would be #2. I still love it and listen to it but I kinda jump like a scared rabbit whenever I hear it by surprise and it should come with its own trigger warning as far as I’m concerned.

3 - Narcotic (Liquido)

US: Not on the list / FR: #99

This is barely elligible. But I’m so, so glad it is. These chords right there? Love them. Love. Them.

Also here’s a fun story about this song and me. At first, I was like “oh wow, I can only understand one word out of five, but this sounds badass.” Then a couple of years later I was like “oh. Oh no. It’s about drugs.” And THEN a few years later I was like “oh shit oh no. It’s about sex.” But no, now that I can understand everything, it’s just a breakup song. It’s okay.

2 - Where I’m headed (Lene Marlin)

US: Not on the list / FR: #24

Ok so. Uh. I just realised this song was called Where I’m headed and not, as I believed for literally 18 years, “Pass By”. I had never checked. I have it on several tapes and several cd compilations, always labelled Pass By. It’s also called Pass By on the mp3 I still have in my playlist. I know I’m in the wrong here and probably never checked what the title was but I still feel like there’s been a glitch in the matrix. What happened.

Anyway. Fantastic song. Love it.

Now let’s embarrass myself beyond all hopes of redemption.

1 - Blue (Eiffel 65)

US: Not on the list (...yet. #49 in 2000) / FR: #2

So. Uh. Yeah.

Blue by Eiffel 65 was, for a long, long, LONG time, my favorite song ever.

See? This is one of my oldest lists of favorite songs.

Another one from several months later.

A cd compilation of my favorite songs ever, which I made around 2003 or 2004 as well, with a booklet with lyrics entirely copied by hand and with every page painstakingly illustrated with panels and characters from my favorite comic at the time, Horologiom.

You open the booklet, and look at that, Blue is the second song right after Children.

This silly song which lists blue things and has a nonsensical chorus and one of the dumbest music videos of the entire 90s was, indeed, for years, my favorite song ever. Why. How. Well, first, please remember I am, in fact, a sucker for dance music and electronic music ESPECIALLY when a piano is involved, but this isn’t at all why this song was special to me (and still is, actually).

As I already mentioned, music has colors to me and guess what’s the dominant color of this song? Yepppppp. This is one of the bluest songs ever made even if there’s a little black, yellow and green here and there - the only song I can think about right now which out-blues it is Derezzed by Daft Punk.

And I can’t even begin to explain how SATISFYING a blue song called “Blue” listing blue things and which has an extremely blue music video is.

I know. It’s an embarrassing #1 even for 1999. It took me a long time to post this list partly for this reason. But I wouldn’t be honest if it was placed at any other position. It’s stupid, it’s repetitive, it’s meaningless. I absolutely love it and I’ve loved it for twenty years.

Deal with it.

Next up: the year when I actually started to buy cds with my own money, with debatable results.

[awashsquid]

The long-awaited (for @sittingoverheredreaming, at least) Part 4 of this commissioned series! Group post here, if you need to catch up. If you like it, drop Sam a thanks for commissioning me, or give a comment or reblog - we authors thrive on feedback! Hope y’all enjoy.

The next hour passed in such a daze of quick events that Michiru scarcely recalled them even as they occurred, one moment bleeding into the next like inexpertly applied watercolors, mingling until the entire canvas was muddied beyond recognition of what it once was, what it should have been.  There were doctors in and out of the room, she recalled, and she knew that she had signed several documents with a shaking hand, her signature remaining as delicate and ornamental as it had ever been, still a perfect piece of artistry even as the canvas of her world rended itself into scraps of confetti.  

Haruka never left her vision again, staring at her intensely with those green eyes that she knew couldn’t be real but somehow had never felt more alive, the lips that she knew could not be there, and yet she could feel when they brushed against her head, her hand, her cheek.  The pain as her wounds knitted back into place was nothing compared to the searing agony in her chest, each beat of her traitorously living heart a reminder that she had ruined everything to save Haruka, to save the woman that she loved, and she had not even succeeded in that effort.

Once she was settled at home the others left her room, Rei doing so only after instructing her gently to get some sleep.  Hotaru offered to stay and provide healing, but Michiru asked to have some time alone - except she wasn’t really alone, Haruka was sitting on the bottom of the bed - and Hotaru did not push further.  The heavy wooden door shut and Michiru turned to the phantom of her lover, not wanting to say the words aloud but knowing that she needed to in order for them to become true.

“You are not really here.  My Haruka is dead.”  The sentence came out in a whisper that turned into a strangled, choking sob, her weakness on full display as tears ran openly down her face, dotting the hospital gown she still wore with markers of her own incompetence.

Haruka - not Haruka, she corrected internally, some manifestation of my own subconscious - shrugged in that same casual way she had a thousand times, her shoulders lifting slightly before relaxing again.  “I’m as here as you want me to be, Michi.”  She flipped herself onto her knees and crawled closer, and Michiru could swear that she felt weight and heat from where Haruka’s body covered her own.  “I’m as real as you need me to be.”  She kissed her again, less gently this time, a hand winding through Michiru’s hair in a familiar caress. 

“This isn’t real,” Michiru whispered between kisses, shaking her head.

Haruka smirked devilishly, her free hand wandering downwards, Michiru gasping softly.  “I’ll make it feel real.”  Michiru bit her lip, knowing that the touches weren’t really happening but unable to deny their effect on her regardless.  “Does this feel real to you?”  She let out a soft whimper under the familiar caresses, Haruka’s practiced hands knowing exactly what she wanted.

Haruka drew back suddenly, ceasing her touches, and Michiru nearly groaned with frustration.  “Do you want me to go away, Michi?  Just tell me to leave, and I’m not real any more.”  The sparkle in her eyes and the growing, almost predatory smile on her face indicated that she already knew the response, and as Michiru leaned forward to press her lips against her lover’s, she tasted of apples.

--

At the Shrine across town, Mercury pored over her handheld computer and studied the flashing symbols on the screen with ferocity.  The knowledge of how to unlock the hidden data from the days of the Silver Millenium had been gifted to her when she remembered the ancient, long-dead language that had been used then, its characters foreign to all living eyes but hers now.  She smiled at the thought that she was the last person with such knowledge, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“How are we progressing, Mercury?”

Mercury jumped internally as the cool voice washed over her like a wave, whipping around and falling to a knee as instinctively as she breathed, the motion just as effortless and necessary.  “My Queen,” she responded, the air in front of her lips fogging just slightly, her element showing itself more in the presence of its mistress.  Her eyes stared at the hem of the white gown in front of her, everything else in the room dim and dull by comparison of its pearlescent shine.

“‘Princess’; I am not Queen as of yet,” she corrected, and Mercury felt a trickle of sweat freeze to the skin on her back, icing over.  “Stand, Mercury, and give me a report.”  A pause - then, as an afterthought: “Please.”  The last word sounded out of place with the others, a switch from her natural cadence to an attempt to pronounce a concept from a newly-learned foreign language.  Mercury stood and raised her eyes to the face of her ruler, though never high enough to make eye contact, her gaze resting on the flawless porcelain cheekbones.

“Princess,” Mercury forced out with mild effort, which she endured because she could not fathom the thought of disobedience, “As you are aware, Jupiter expended her energies greatly during the battle.  She was left in a comatose state.  You chose to revive me -” revive seemed the wrong word somehow; she had never been dead, just slumbering beneath the surface of a weak-willed teenage girl, one whose favor of kindness over science disgusted her - “two days ago, and have been resting your energies since then.”  

Her gaze drifted past Serenity to the bed behind her where Jupiter lay, Sleeping Beauty tucked between Rei’s anime-themed sheets, still and unresponsive as a fairytale illustration.  “There has been no change in Jupiter’s status.  I remain unable to wake her, and it is only through your daily energy sharing that she continues to exist in this state.”  The knowledge of her failure hung greatly over her head, and she resisted the urge to drop to her knees and beg forgiveness, if only because her Princess would not stand groveling from her soldiers.

“Scan me.  I would know the probability of a successful revival at my current energy levels.”  Mercury nodded and took a step backwards, raising the computer and tapping a few buttons to bring up the proper display.  Data scrolled across her visor and screen simultaneously as she allowed the computer to work, a few moments of silence passing as the calculations were completed.

“The probability of success at this time would be approximately 86.83%, Princess.  There is a 8.49% chance that she would improve slightly but not wake; a 3.14% chance that no change would occur, and a 1.54% chance that you would extend your own energies too greatly and damage yourself.  Given these values, I believe that you could safely awaken her at this time.”

The Princess-Queen glanced over at Jupiter in the bed, still and fragile and somehow looking so small, despite being taller than either of the other women.  Serenity nodded sharply.  “Very well, Mercury.  Your diligence is noted and appreciated.”  She frowned even as Mercury bent at the waist slightly, a thanks for the compliment that her body performed naturally.  “Will I need to recharge so long before waking Uranus?  And what of Pluto?”

Mercury shook her head lightly, ice-blue hair sweeping out of her eyes.  “No, my Q- Princess,” she corrected hastily, “your powers were much more significantly depleted from your own transformation, eliminating the opposing army, and purifying myself.  Awakening Jupiter will use a large amount of your energy, but it should recharge significantly faster.  I estimate that you will be able to revive Uranus within 24 hours.”

Serenity’s rose-petal lips curled into a tiny smile, so minute and controlled that a less observant party could have assumed it was a trick of the lighting; but Mercury was nothing if not an efficient tool for data intake, and so she catalogued the discrepancy as she continued to speak.  “Pluto’s body has yet to be discovered.  As the area has been thoroughly canvassed, my current theory is that she dematerialized and was instantly reincarnated at the Time Gate, as is typical of her position.  We do not currently possess a means of reaching the Time Gate to confirm this hypothesis.  My recommendation is to classify Pluto as a lost asset.”

The rose of Serenity’s lips wilted, and the thorns of her perfectly white teeth poked out from underneath the small curl of disgust.  “That is...disappointing, indeed.”  Pluto had been one of the stronger defensive Senshi, and Mercury knew that from a tactical standpoint the loss of her power was not insignificant.  “Still,” Serenity continued, taking small, gliding steps towards the bed where Jupiter lay.  “We will have the rest back soon.  Beginning with her.”

She stopped at the bedside, pale hand reaching out somewhat tenderly to brush back the bangs from Jupiter’s forehead.  Serenity’s eyes, as blue and as cold as the most rare of sapphires, closed as she touched a single finger to the center of the prone woman’s forehead.  The golden moon on her face began to glow, its aura traveling downwards over her unearthly pale skin from her neck, to her arm, to that extended finger, and finally onto Jupiter before disappearing into her forehead.  Serenity’s brow creased slightly as the light increased in strength, crescendoing until there was a single bright flash of white light that forced Mercury’s eyes to squint shut, unable to withstand the intensity.

When she reopened her eyes, Serenity looked slightly less radiant than she had a few moments prior - her sapphire eyes were fogged over as though in need of a polish, and the subtle sparkle that her skin always seemed to hold now was emphasized by the light layer of sweat that crossed her chest.  The woman in the bed looked much the same, except that her hair had lightened a few shades, a more medium-brown at the roots fading into a tan shade towards the bottom.  Her eyes opened to reveal the other change in Jupiter’s appearance, the bright yellow irises seeming to crackle with electricity.  

She sat up quickly, a near-predatory smile on her face as she cracked her neck, then her knuckles, the second causing small sparks to fly from her hands as she did so.  Jupiter rose from the bed, steady as though she hadn’t just been in a coma moments ago, and knelt at Serenity’s feet.  Mercury knew chastising her for such strain would get nowhere - Jupiter had never been one to listen to reason - and so chose to put her energy into performing a basic vitals scan, just to ensure that all had gone as it should have.

“My Queen,” came Jupiter’s voice, rumbling and sure.

This time, Serenity did not correct the title.  “Rise, Jupiter.  There is much work to be done if we are to enact Crystal Tokyo.”

Jupiter did as she was commanded, a broad smirk spreading across her face as tiny crackles of electricity danced across her knuckles.  “I can’t wait to begin.”

[saint-leona]

Safe

Hightown funk is here for the fourth year in a row!  I absolutely adore this exchange, as evidenced by he fact that I leap out of lurk mode to post an actual fic that I wrote! Everyone needs to check out the entire collection here!

Summary: Keeping Hawke away is Varric’s way of keeping her safe.

Rating: G

Words: 1541

Notes: for @fanfoolishness for Hightown Funk 2018.  The prompt mentioned Varric writing to Hawke in the time between DA2 and Inquisition, and I kinda latched onto it.

As always, you can read on AO3.

Min.

Well, you said once that you wanted all the gossip from Kirkwall, both good and bad.  And I am always a dwarf that keeps his promises.  And you can tell Rivani to stop laughing at that.  

Yesterday was three years since that shit show with Orsino and Meredith.  Aveline and Donnic had their hands full with competing mobs - one that is sure you are Andraste reborn, and the other that is sure you are the next Archdemon.  Funny, there isn't really an inbetween.   There was a mob trying to storm the Gallows again and get near Meredith.  Not sure if they wanted to try and destroy her, or take her out and worship her.  Also had a mob outside the Hanged Man yelling that Hawke was the worst thing to ever happen to Kirkwall.  Love those assholes to pieces.  

Oddly enough, the only place in the entire city that isn't going to the Void is the Alienage.  Daisy has become a real bright spot over there - not that she wasn't before, but she's managing to keep chaos at bay.  The elves may actually be the happiest group of people in this entire damn city.

There's a sentence I never thought would see the light of day.

Stay safe out there.

****

Varric.

All that is well and good, but not one word about you?  How you're doing?  It goes something like this:  'Dearest Min, you are the bestest friend I could ever hope to have in my miserable existence, and my life is better for having you in it.  My days are darker now that you're gone, and I pray to the Maker every day that you return safe.'

See?  Pure poetry.  Maybe you should retire and I should be the writer?

Isabela had us off the coast of Llomerynn for a while, hunting down slave traders and whatever.  I think Fenris is having the time of his life.  He does love punishing slavers.  

Don't exactly know where we are now.  I mean, we're on a boat, and there's water all around, but that's all I've got.  There's word of putting into Hercinia soon, but with the Admiral, soon can mean tomorrow or six months from now.  I like to think of it as a surprise.  Sounds nicer that way.

Be well my friend.

****

Min, if you started writing that, my retirement would last about an hour, and that's being generous.

Okay, I have a surprise for you.  After nearly four years, the Chantry is finally sending their forces here to get to the bottom of what actually happened in the Gallows.  Rumor has it they're actually sending a Seeker of Truth with them.  Could be fun, who knows?  This Seeker may have a sense of humour about the whole thing.  The next Archdemon could rise and declare world peace as well.

I'm trying out this optimist thing.  I'll let you know if it works.

Point is, I'm fine.  All is well.  

*****

The Admiral and I are on the way.  We'll get you out of there.  Just hang on.

*****

Don't you dare!  You know me, I can handle this.  Whatever they want, they're not going to find you.  I'll make sure of that.  Just stay where you are.

Rivani, I know you're reading this.  You and the Elf have to keep Min away from here.

*****

Got a letter from Merrill.  

I say letter, more like loose scribbles and some illustrations.  It was amusing.  However, I couldn't laugh at the part where she says you're a prisoner now?  

Does the dwarf in distress need a daring rescue?

*****

Not a chance.  And I prefer the term 'unwelcome tagalong.'  The Seeker wants me to talk to the Divine about what happened, that's all.  After that, I should be free to go.  

See?  The optimist thing works.

*****

Varric Tethras!  What in the ever-loving fuck happened?  

Here I am, minding my business, when half of Haven blows up and now there's a giant Maker-damned hole in the sky!

I swear, you better not be dead.  Bringing you back to life just to kill you again is not on my list of shit I want to do!

*****

Aw, Min.  You do care!

Honestly, I have no sodding idea what happened.  Only know I was far enough away to not get caught in it.

(I was in the pub actually.  Huge shocker there, I know.  But I'm not living in this one, so some things can change I suppose.)

And how do you know about the Chantry and the explosion?

*****

Did you really think I was just going to let you get taken as an 'unwelcome tagalong' and do nothing about it?  I've been following you since Kirkwall.  I'm about a couple of days behind you.

*****

Damn it Min!  You're supposed to be in the Anderfels or Rivain or anywhere that isn't here!  What if they find you?

*****

Aw, Varric.  You do care!

Have you lost all faith in my skills?  They haven't found me yet, and they won't.  Will you please trust me?

*****

I do trust you Min.  But everything is going to shit.

Just do me one favour, please?  Stay away from Haven.  The people are scared and looking for something to blame.  I don't want that something to be you.

*****

Okay Varric.  I promise.  I won't say where I am, but I'll stay away from Haven.

I actually heard there were Wardens in the area.  I think I'll go looking for them.  Maybe they'll know something about Bethany.

If you do need me, just say the word.  I'll be there.

*****

Yeah, because the Wardens never led to anything bad ever.  You and I need to have a talk on what 'staying safe' actually means.

The Seeker keeps asking me about you.  I keep telling her I have no idea where you are.  It's not a complete lie.  I really don't know where you are exactly at this moment.  

Haven is starting to become something big.  Not sure what yet, but we are gaining more and more allies.  We convinced those mages that were holed up in Redcliffe to join us, and that was no easy feat.

This Inquisition business is way above my head - I know you're going to make an obligatory short joke here, so have at it - but there's something else going on that I haven't seen in a while.  These people actually believe in the Herald.  They have hope.  

And you know what?  I think I do, too.

*****

I never thought I'd see the day where you have hope in something.  Maybe the optimist thing is working after all?

*****

Min.  

By now you know about Haven.  I'm fine.  I made it out.  But we have a bigger problem.

It's Corypheus.  He's back.  I don't know how, but damn it, it's him.  He's the one that attacked the Conclave.  He's to blame for it all.  I'm sorry to do this, but I'm saying the word.  I think we need you.

*****

I'll be there in two days.  Dawn.

*****

Varric paces, as he tends to do when worried about Hawke.  He's been waiting for almost an hour, hoping that either she would be early, or the sunrise would be.  He's disappointed on both counts.

The guard that had been posted to the bridge was more that happy to leave early when Varric offered to cover the remainder of his shift.  So long as the guards on the ramparts didn't look too closely, he may just be able to get Hawke in without anyone noticing.  He made a mental note to talk to Curly about making security a little tighter.

The first rays of dawn break over the mountains and lights the valley below.  Varric squints as he looks out over the bridge to Skyhold.  At the far end is a dark figure, coming toward the fortress.  

Varric knows that gait.  He sees it every time he closes his eyes.  He's sure he'd dream about it if he were able.  

He clenches his fists at his sides as he waits for her in the gatehouse.  It takes every bit of self-control he possesses to stay put and not run to meet her.  After all, they are trying for secrecy here, and a dwarf racing over the bridge isn't exactly inconspicuous.  

She's finally close enough where he can see how four years have changed little things about her: she has a couple more scars, and she's a little leaner.  But that grin is exactly the same and is as familiar as her walk.  

She stops in front of him, shifts her weight to one leg and puts her hand on her hip.  "Varric," she says, still wearing that grin.  "You look like shit." Varric smiles back and doesn't miss a beat.  "Said the pot to the kettle."  

Hawke barks a laugh and falls to her knees before throwing her arms around him and burying her head in the crook of his neck.  "Maker, I've missed you," she whispers.

Varric hugs her back with identical ferocity.  "Hawke, you have no idea."

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, holding on to one another, but he can't bring himself to let go.  For that moment, she is here, she is in his arms, and she is safe.

[anditendshowyoudexpect]

i was just browsing to get a new picture for my avatar

(from the book Gimson’s Prime Ministers by Andrew Gimson, illustrated by Martin Rowson)

LORD MELBOURNE Lived 1779–1848; prime minister 1834 and 1835–41

ON BEING ASKED to become prime minister, Lord Melbourne said he thought it ‘a damned bore’, and was ‘in many minds as to what to do’. 

His private secretary, Tom Young, retorted: ‘Why, damn it all, such a position was never held by any Greek or Roman; and if it only last three months, it will be worth while to have been prime minister of England.’ 

‘By God that’s true,’ Melbourne said. ‘I’ll go!’ 

We have this story from the diarist Charles Greville, who saw a great deal of Melbourne but, like most people, could not quite make him out: ‘Everybody wonders what Melbourne will do. He is certainly a queer fellow to be prime minister.’ To the world in general, Melbourne concealed his thoughts and emotions behind an affable, witty, tolerant, teasing exterior. As a young man, he had suffered the most notorious marital difficulties of any future prime minister. Yet he still loved and needed the company of spirited women, and became in the first years of her reign the adored prime minister and mentor of Queen Victoria. She saw at once that he was ‘straightforward, clever, honest and good’.

He was born William Lamb. His mother established herself as a great Whig hostess: beautiful, intelligent, vivacious, ambitious and promiscuous, she had children by several men while remaining married to the rich but unremarkable Lord Melbourne. William, her second son, was generally supposed to have been fathered by Lord Egremont and was educated at Eton, Trinity College, Cambridge, and Glasgow University. He grew into a tall, dark, handsome, amusing and unpushy young man, who was liked by everyone he met. The death of his elder brother enabled him to renounce the legal career on which, with no enthusiasm, he had embarked and to enter in 1806, at the age of twenty-six, the House of Commons. 

It also enabled him to propose marriage to the 19-year-old Lady Caroline Ponsonby, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Bessborough and niece of the Duchess of Devonshire, with whom he was in love. She was an upper-class wild child – slim, high-spirited and used on all occasions to getting her own way or else throwing a tantrum. For a few years they were happy, then they were unhappy. In 1812, she began a conspicuous affair with Lord Byron, a month after the poet awoke one morning and found himself famous, thanks to the publication of Childe Harold. It was Lady Caroline who described Byron as ‘mad, bad and dangerous to know’. He called her ‘the cleverest, most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, fascinating little being’. But he soon tired of her impetuous rages, realised her parading of their affair was doing him social harm and decided to break it off. She was infatuated with him, and refused to let him go. Her rages grew ever more extreme and culminated at Lady Heathcote’s ball in July 1813, where Byron refused to dance with her, so she broke a glass and began gashing her naked arms. 

The scandal was the talk of London and was followed by Lady Caroline’s excruciatingly embarrassing autobiographical novel, Glenarvon. Melbourne’s family urged him to separate from a woman who had heaped humiliation on them all, and most particularly on him. He agreed, but could not bring himself to leave her until 1825, and even after that, with tender good humour took what care he could of her until her death in 1828. They had one son, who was mentally handicapped, to whom Melbourne was devoted and who died in 1836 at the age of twenty-nine. 

For many years, his political career seemed no happier than his marriage. In 1812, he left the Commons, unable to stand the heavy cost of getting himself re-elected. He told his mother that leaving Parliament felt like ‘actually cutting my throat’, for it deprived him of ‘the greatest object of my life’. He cared about politics more deeply than he would generally admit. In 1816, he returned to Parliament, but these were the long years of Tory domination under Lord Liverpool, when there was no place for even a moderate, middle-of-the-road Whig like Melbourne. 

In 1827, Canning became prime minister and needed some moderate Whigs to serve in place of the stern unbending Tories who refused to join. In came Melbourne as Chief Secretary for Ireland. It was his first real job, and he demonstrated his ability to conciliate Catholics as well as Protestants, and also his well-hidden capacity for hard work. In Dublin, he relaxed in the company of the young, beautiful and animated Lady Elizabeth Brandon. Her husband, the Reverend Lord Brandon, attempted to get a bishopric for himself out of this, and having failed to do so, sued Melbourne, but was unable to prove that anything improper had occurred. 

The following year, Melbourne was one of the Whigs who resigned in sympathy with William Huskisson from the Duke of Wellington’s government. But at the end of 1830, when Lord Grey replaced Wellington, he appointed Melbourne to the vital post of Home Secretary. For while the Reform Bill made its tempestuous passage through Parliament, the country had to be saved from sliding into civil war. This Melbourne did with energy and firmness. He avoided sending in troops, but urged magistrates to use their powers to the full. Once again, he had given proof of his executive abilities. 

By 1834, the government was disintegrating and Lord Grey retired to Northumberland. William IV had to decide which of the Whigs to invite to take over as prime minister. His choice fell on the dependable Melbourne, for he seemed best placed to preserve the still-precarious order. His Cabinet colleague, Lord Durham, offered another reason for choosing Melbourne: ‘He is the only man to be prime minister because he is the only one of whom none of us would be jealous.’ 

So in came the amiable Melbourne. He was fifty-five and lasted for 121 days before the King decided to replace him with the Tory leader, Sir Robert Peel. The most memorable event at this time was the burning down, in October 1834, of the Houses of Parliament, an event greeted with cheers by the London mob. Peel had no majority in the Commons, so called an election, but made insufficient progress to gain control, so in April 1835 resigned. 

Melbourne, with some reluctance, was back. Few people expected him to last long, and he had renewed difficulties in his private life. He had for several years cheered himself by calling on his way home in the evenings on Mrs Caroline Norton, a beautiful and high-spirited young novelist who had established herself in rooms at Storey’s Gate, not far from Parliament. She was the granddaughter of the playwright Sheridan, a famous Whig whom Melbourne had known in his youth. 

George Norton, her villainous husband, decided to sue Mrs Norton for divorce, with Melbourne cited as co-respondent. But there was no evidence whatever that she had slept with him. When she was ill, Mr Norton had actually accompanied Melbourne to his wife’s bedroom. On another occasion, Mr and Mrs Norton had visited Melbourne together in his house in South Street, Mayfair, where he continued to live even after becoming prime minister. 

Melbourne asked William IV if he should resign. The King said definitely not. He and the Duke of Wellington suspected a shady plot to discredit Melbourne, and neither of them wanted anything to do with it. So Melbourne fought the case, though he did not appear in court himself, but sent the attorney general to make the case on his behalf. The court proceedings caused huge excitement but only lasted a day, for the main witness Mr Norton had managed to recruit was a drunken groom called Fluke, whose ludicrous evidence fell to pieces under cross-examination. The jury acquitted Melbourne without even leaving their box to confer. 

This was a success of a kind, and one which showed the prime minister’s resilience under pressure. But it also left a gap in his emotional life, for while he remained anxious for Mrs Norton’s welfare, he could no longer risk visiting her. This void was to be filled in a most unexpected way. 

In June 1837, William IV died, and was succeeded by his niece, the 18- year-old Princess Victoria. She was on bad terms with her mother, the Duchess of Kent, whose husband, the duke, had died when their daughter was only one year old. During Victoria’s childhood, the duchess, prompted by the unscrupulous Sir John Conroy, cut her off from other sources of advice and tried to lay the foundations for permanent control over her. 

Victoria was determined to resist them. But to whom could she turn for help and comfort in this endeavour? As soon as she met Melbourne, she knew she could count on him. And on whom could it be more proper to rely than on her prime minister? He became her private secretary, spent six hours a day with her and soon had his own bedroom at Windsor. Ministers were allowed to do pretty much as they pleased. Lord Palmerston, the Foreign Secretary, nearly started a war with France. Melbourne was engaged in the vital work of tutoring the young Queen, for which he was entirely suited. As she herself wrote, ‘he alone inspires me with that feeling of great confidence and I may say security, for I feel so safe when he speaks to me and is with me’. 

His conversation was fascinating. He dropped the swear words, but was as witty as ever. He had known everyone worth knowing for the last forty years, including her own family. Her uncle George IV had been as, Prince Regent, a regular visitor, and something more than a visitor, to Melbourne’s mother, and had become very fond of Melbourne himself. 

For although Victoria was Queen, the Victorian age had not yet set in. Melbourne remained, in his manners and sense of humour, a man of the eighteenth century, who detested earnestness and refused to admire the middle classes. His attitude is caught in his remark after hearing an evangelical sermon: ‘Things have come to a pretty pass when religion is allowed to invade the sphere of private life.’ He was deeply interested in religion, and had read widely on the subject. But he was not pious. 

Nor was he abstemious. He ate and drank huge amounts. In 1838, Lady Lyttelton observed that he was quite safe in office ‘unless he contrives to displace himself by dint of consommés, truffles, pears, ices and anchovies, which he does his best to revolutionise his stomach with every day’. 

In 1839, he made a dreadful error of judgement. One of the Duchess of Kent’s maids of honour, Lady Flora Hastings, had been unkind about Baroness Lehzen, who ran the queen’s household. Now Lady Flora grew unexpectedly large, and Melbourne encouraged the Queen in the idea that Lady Flora might be pregnant. When Lady Flora died, she was found, at the postmortem, to have an enormous liver tumour. The Hastings family were furious, and Victoria became for a time very unpopular. 

In the same year, Sir Robert Peel seemed about to become prime minister, but indicated that he would expect the Queen to replace some of her ladies-in-waiting. Victoria said she could not bear this, and Melbourne encouraged her in her resistance. Somewhat irregularly, he remained prime minister for another two years. 

In his offhand way, he helped to clarify the doctrine of Cabinet responsibility. For when he and his colleagues were discussing the Corn Laws, he told them: ‘Now, is it to lower the price of corn, or isn’t it? It is not much matter which we say, but mind, we must all say the same.’ 

But in 1840, he became superfluous to the Queen. She married her cousin, Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, who transported her to a state of married bliss, and quickly became her chief adviser too. She wanted to make Albert a King Consort, an idea against which Melbourne quite rightly warned: ‘For God’s sake, let’s have no more of it, Ma’am. If you once get the English people into the way of making Kings, you’ll get them into the way of unmaking them.’ 

The following year, he called a general election, lost it and resigned. A year later, he suffered a stroke from which he never fully recovered. He died in 1848. Anyone who likes the sound of him is urged to read Lord David Cecil’s wonderful two-volume biography of him, which captures better than any other the Whig attitude to politics.

[pilferingapples]

Is there any published artist whose version of Les Amis or other Les Mis characters you would most like to see? Whether as individual pictures or in a full-scale dream adaptation.

What a wonderful thing to contemplate! And also, watch me forget 90 percent of the artists I have ever known now...>_

I’m going to assume you’re just asking about Living and Known Pro artists here, and not any of the amazing artists in the fandom, or any Artists of Ages Past, so I’ll focus on that!  this is gonna be heavy on comic artists, since that’s what I know...

- Hiromu Arakawa! I don’t think I really have to explain why I think the creator of Full Metal Alchemist would do a great job with a complicated story about systemic oppression and personal transformation that follows a large cast with often diverging goals. 

-Dylan Meconis- Meconis has shown the kind of artistic chops  AND the kind of intense historical nerding I’d love to see for another full comic adaptation. Go look at her current comic--about a werewolf librarian in the 18th century, with all the pages and pages of notes about the era’s politics and philosophers and the education system and on and on and the FASHION-- and you’ll see what I mean. If I had money to burn on commissions,I swear....

-Someone get Emily Carroll to illustrate some Les Mis scenes please 

-Dave McKean cannot design a website for squat, but people know him, he did a ton of Sandman  comics and a lot of wonderful eerie standalone art; another artist who I’d love to see do some scenes from the novel, especially a lot of Valjean’s more dramatically Goth-y moments :D 

I will probably think of ten more artists as soon as I post this! But what I’d like to see in general is an artist with a distinctive style, a flair for creating living environments and a sense of the world as a character interacting with the people.  

[sapphireclaw]

Let Me Make it Up to You (chapter 3)

Back at it again with this gottdang thing. with TWO illustrations this time. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Once again, inspired by this post by @ectoimp

chapters: 1/2/3 

Lewis saw the two Deadbeats flee the suddenly tense atmosphere, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He could only stare like a deer caught in the headlights. Arthur gazed right back with glazed eyes wide with horror and disbelief. He looked devastated, like the world was crumbling right before his eyes.

“A-Arthur…” Lewis choked out, but trailed off. What was he to say? Hey buddy! I’m dead, but it’s ok!

“You… you’re a ghost?” Arthur’s eyes filled with tears, and his voice trembled. “Lewis… no, you can’t be Lewis!” He suddenly shouted. He glared scathingly at the ghost, trembling hands clenched into fists at his sides. “This has to be a trick! Lewis isn’t dead! Lewis would never try to hurt me! He- he isn’t… he isn’t gone. He can’t be…” Arthur’s snarled words tapered off into a broken whisper. He looked away from Lewis and stared down at his feet as his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

This was happening too fast, too soon. Lewis hoped he had another day or two before he had to face Arthur. Of course, nothing ever went to plan. Now he had to find a way to keep from losing his friend completely.

“Arthur…” Lewis started again. He scrambled for something to say. “I… Yeah. I-It’s me.”

Arthur’s head snapped up and connected his gaze to Lewis’s. He didn’t speak, only stared. His eyes were wide, pupils tiny pinpricks against gold iris, glazed with tears. They darted to and fro, studying every detail of Lewis’s skull face, trying to find some sign that this was all a cruel trick.

“No… you aren’t Lewis…” Arthur insisted, covering his face with his mismatched hands as he shook his head from side to side.

Lewis stared back at his best friend, heart aching. Arthur was in denial. He knew that what Lewis said was true, but he didn’t want to believe it. It would take more than words to convince him completely. Lewis wished that he could take it back. He wished he hadn’t confirmed his identity. He could have thought up some excuse, told Arthur that he was wrong, that he had no idea who Lewis Pepper was. He didn’t know how Arthur was going to react to this, and that scared him. It was too late, now, though. He had to face this. There was no backing out.

Lewis took a deep breath he didn’t need and looked away from his hysterical best friend. He clenched his fists, tensed his shoulders, and counted backwards from ten. He made a decision. He hoped it was the right one.

With a flurry of fire, he changed. He felt a light pressure curl around him, like putting on a coat, only all over. He just hoped that his human projection looked better now than it did when he wore it last.

When Lewis opened his eyes and looked up at Arthur, he knew that he’d succeeded in convincing him of his true identity. Arthur’s eyes were even wider now, a feat Lewis thought to be impossible. The rest of Arthur’s face was devoid of emotion. He just stood there, motionless, staring up at the ghost that now looked exactly like his lost friend.

Lewis dared to float closer. “Artie-”

Arthur screamed.

Lewis recoiled, losing hold on his human projection and reverted back to his skeletal appearance in shock. Of all reactions, this one wasn’t one Lewis was prepared for.

“Lewis?! You-you’re dead! Why?! How?! Why are you here!?” Arthur shouted, wild gaze frantically darting over Lewis’s form. Then, his eyes snapped up to meet glowing ones, full of horror. “You… you tried to kill me. You tried to kill me! Wh-What did I do?! Why would you-” Arthur’s hysterical babbling suddenly cut off with a choked gasp. He paled as white as a sheet. His gaze darted to his metal arm and stayed there. For a whole minute, the kitchen was dead silent as Arthur stood, frozen, staring down at his prosthetic. Then, he began to tremble and his breathing picked up until he was hyperventilating. Lewis quickly realized that Arthur was remembering.

When the most heart-wrenching of sobs began falling from Arthur’s trembling lips, the ghost snapped out of his shock and floated forward, arms reaching out to comfort.

“A-Arthur, don’t-”

Arthur’s gaze snapped back up to Lewis, and the pure, unadulterated terror in his eyes made the ghost stop dead. Arthur’s whole body trembled as he stumbled back a step. He clutched his metal arm to his chest, gripping it so tight that his flesh hand was white. He frantically shook his head, and Lewis worried briefly about Arthur’s neck. He didn’t take another step closer.

“D-don’t!” Arthur practically shrieked. “I-I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want this! P-please believe me! I never wanted to… to…” the blond’s pleas fell away with a hysterical sob. “Oh god! O-Oh god, I killed you! You’re dead! Lewis, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I'msorryI’msorry-”

Lewis could only watch with a growing sense of horror and guilt as his dear friend fell into hysterics. Arthur apologized over and over as he stared not at the ghost in front of him, but through him, seeing something that Lewis couldn’t. He tugged harshly at his blond hair as he buried his hands in it, shaking from head to toe. It quickly became unbearable, and the ghost couldn’t stop himself from acting.

Despite Arthur’s choked scream and his desperate scramble away, Lewis caught him in his arms and held him tight against his chest. Arthur’s breaths left his lungs in harsh, gasping sobs, between which came whispered pleas for mercy as he struggled frantically against Lewis’s unyielding grasp. Lewis only held tighter, afraid that if he let go, he would never get the chance to hold Arthur ever again. He pinned the struggling man against him with one arm and raised the other to slowly run his fingers through spiky blond hair soothingly, whispering reassurances. He was nearly drowned out by Arthur’s own hysterical voice.

“Calm down, Arthur. I know. I know, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I swear.” Lewis hushed softly. He repeated the words over and over, hoping they’d get through his friend’s thick skull.

It took a while, but Arthur’s struggles and pleas slowed, and eventually stopped. Lewis didn’t know if it was because he tired himself out, or if he believed his words. Either way, Lewis didn’t dare let go or fall silent just yet.

“I promise, Arthur, I forgive you. You didn’t mean to kill me, and I’m so sorry I tried to hurt you. I was wrong. I know that now. Please don’t be afraid of me, Artie. I still love you. So much,” Lewis whispered firmly as he loosened his hold just enough to rub Arthur’s back in soothing circles.

The two stayed like that for a while. Arthur’s heart-rending sobs had fallen to pitiful whimpers and sniffles, but Lewis knew that his words got through to him when he felt a pair of mismatched arms wrap around him in return. Arthur clung to him now, his face buried in the folds of the ghost’s suit as he began to hiccup.

Lewis chuckled quietly. Arthur always hiccuped after he had a good cry. It didn’t happen often, but the sound was familiar and put Lewis at ease somehow. It was a while before one of them spoke.

“You’re a ghost, Lewis.” Arthur whispered brokenly. He sounded so sad. It hurt Lewis’s already cracked heart.

“I know.” Lewis murmured, petting the top of Arthur’s head.

“You’re dead.”

“I know.”

“I k-killed you.”

“No you didn’t. That wasn’t you.”

“This is all my fault.”

Lewis sighed and pulled slightly away from Arthur, just enough to tip his head up and make him meet his eyes. “Are you even listening to me? That wasn’t you. I realized what happened after I found you again. You turned green, Arthur. That’s a sign of possession, as in, something else was in control of your body. It wasn’t you.” Lewis gently tapped his knuckles against Arthur’s forehead. “When will this get through your thick skull? How many times am I gonna have to say it? Because I will say it a hundred times every day until you believe it.”

Arthur gave a tiny, wobbly smile. “It’s going to take a while, Lewis. I can’t just… forget what happened, especially after only remembering it just now.” Then, everything else Lewis said seemed to register. “E-every day? So, you’re staying?” Arthur looked hopeful.

Lewis nodded, smiling. “Of course I’m staying. Who else will make sure you take care of yourself? Did you think I was going to just move on or something after this?”

Arthur let out a breathy laugh and wiped at his eyes. “I don’t know, man… everything is just so messed up.” Arthur broke eye contact and instead stared at Lewis’s magenta ascot. He picked at the material with his fingers nervously. “This doesn’t feel real…”

Lewis laughed. “Of course it isn’t real. This whole body is just a projection. My suit isn’t made of real cloth.”

Arthur snorted and thumped his metal fist against Lewis’s chest. “That’s not what I meant!” He sighed and slumped against the ghost, as if he lost the strength to stand. “It’s just… I’ve been looking for you for nine months, Lewis. I thought that whatever happened to Vivi’s memory happened to you. I thought that you were out there somewhere, lost and confused. I was going to find you and bring you home… alive.” Arthur reached up and lightly touched his metal fingertips to the heart that beat a sad rhythm against Lewis’ chest.

The ghost sighed and took Arthur’s prosthetic hand in his own much larger one, pulling it away from his anchor. He stepped out of the embrace and held the hand in both of his, stroking a thumb over the cold metal. “I’m sorry, Arthur. Nothing about this is ideal. We all lost something that night, but nothing can change what happened. We can only move forward.” Lewis reached out and cupped Arthur’s cheek, wiping away some of the lingering tear streaks under the blond’s eyes. “It will be hard, I know.  Like it or not, we’ve changed because of what we went through, but only time will tell if we can grow and move on despite it all. Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you and Vivi every step of the way. I promise.”

Arthur gave Lewis a watery smile and rubbed the back of his flesh hand over his eyes. “Ah, man, there you go again, making me cry. I’m the one who should be apologizing, yet here you are busting out the pep talks. You haven’t changed a bit.” Arthur’s expression suddenly changed to one of confusion and worry as he sniffed the air. “Say, do you smell something burning?”

“Huh?” Lewis followed Arthur’s example and sniffed. The stinging smell of acrid smoke assaulted him. “Your breakfast!” Lewis gasped, horrified.

The ghost quickly left Arthur’s side and rushed to the oven. The door flew open and let a few wisps of smoke escape and drift toward the ceiling. Lewis cursed and pulled the two hot pans out. He groaned and poked at the food with a conjured fork.

“Aw, man… I hope you like your eggs well done, Arthur.” Lewis griped.

Arthur walked over and peered around the ghost. “It’s just a little burnt around the edges. I’ll still eat it, you know I’m not a picky eater.” The blond scrunched up his face and waved a hand in front of his nose. “I wouldn’t object to opening a window, though. I’m not a fan of the smell of smoke.”

Lewis gave the food one last glare before he turned around to do as Arthur asked. “Yeah, it it does smell pretty bad.” He muttered.

Lewis was halfway across the kitchen when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks with a gasp. Arthur stared at Lewis’s tense back questioningly and slowly approached the motionless specter.

“Lewis? You okay, buddy?” The blond called hesitantly.

Lewis slowly turned to face Arthur, who quickly noticed what looked like skin creep over his skull. It took a minute, but he was soon staring up at a very human-looking face. The only thing that didn’t change was his suit and his spooky eyes, which were wide and absolutely sparkling.

“Holy shit.” Lewis whispered in awe.

Arthur, confused, raised his eyebrows and gestured helplessly. “What are we holy shitting at? Speak to me, dude.”

Without warning, Lewis grabbed Arthur and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. The ghost laughed long and loud as he twirled his friend around the kitchen.

“I can smell! Holy shit, I can smell things! Do you know what this means, Arthur?!” Lewis cried happily. Arthur could only wheeze in reply, but that didn’t seem to faze the ghost. “Something is happening. I don’t know what, but whatever it is, it’s something amazing!” Lewis suddenly plonked Arthur back on his feet and began pacing the kitchen, hands gesturing wildly. “This is so strange! Ever since I came back, I didn’t have a sense of smell, but it’s suddenly returned! Why, though? Why now?” The ghost continued to pace, even going as far as walking vertically up the wall as if it were nothing and across the ceiling. He paced upside-down for a while as Arthur watched, slightly horrified. “What else can I get back? I would love to taste things again. Do you think that’s a possibility? Maybe I’ll be able to feel warmth and cold next. Ah, maybe that wouldn’t be for the best. What if my flames burn me when I try to use them?” Lewis’s hair was flickering and spitting sparks in his excitement as he babbled. “I wonder what brought this on? Maybe it’s because of you, Arthur? Maybe by letting go of my grudge against you, I’ve regained something that I lost?”

Arthur could only dazedly watch his friend walk literally all over the kitchen, completely baffled. Lewis always had a problem with pacing when he thought, but this was ridiculous. “Ah, Lewis, maybe we should ask Vivi about this? She’s the expert.” He suggested.

Lewis halted, luckily with his feet planted firmly on the floor, not the ceiling, and turned to Arthur with the biggest, brightest grin on his face. It made his heart skip a beat. “You’re right! I bet Vivi would love to figure this out!” Lewis seemed to remember something. “Oh! Vivi! We should probably get her up so she can eat breakfast with us.” Lewis beamed down at Arthur and playfully clapped him on the back, which in turn knocked the air from his lungs and sent him sprawling to the floor.

Lewis gasped and quickly crouched down to help the wheezing man up. “I’m so sorry! I guess I don’t have the best control over my strength, huh?” Arthur only groaned into the tile floor and didn’t attempt to stand. “Arthur? D-did I really hurt you? Oh jeez. Here, let me get you up.”

Lewis grabbed the motionless Arthur around the waist and began lifting him, but he didn’t get far. Something smashed into the side of his head with so much force, he was sent flying into a kitchen cabinet. While he could still feel pain, it was usually dulled and easily ignored, but whatever just hit him hurt like hell. While Lewis was trying to make sense of his now rapidly spinning world, he heard Arthur’s voice.

“Holy shit, Vivi!” Arthur shrieked. The ringing in Lewis’s ears nearly drowned out the blond’s words. He could swear he was seeing literal stars.

“Oh my god, you’re alive! Where are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Arthur. I should have listened to you. I should have never trusted the ghost or left you alone! I must’ve fallen asleep and now you’re hurt!” Vivi cried.

Lewis struggled to make sense of the blurry blue and yellow shapes moving around in front of him, but his head hurt so bad that he couldn’t think straight, let alone see.

“Vivi! You-you just hit him! With a bat!”

“Hell yeah, I did! It’s a good thing I had this in the van. I knew all that ghost defense stuff we bought in Amity Park would pay off! If that ghost dares to even take one step toward you, he’ll get another taste of anti-creep stick!” Vivi crowed.

“W-what?!” Arthur gasped. “But those things hurt ghosts!”

“I think this is just a regular bat, actually.” Vivi mumbled.

By that point, Lewis’s vision was beginning to clear and his splitting headache was fading. The ghost groaned and sat up against the damaged cabinet, rubbing at his eyes and temples in an attempt to alleviate the lingering pain. He heard Arthur gasp and looked up in time to see the blond scramble to his side.

“You’re okay!” Arthur said, relieved. He reached out and gently touched the side of Lewis’s head where the bat had struck, wincing. “Ah, jeez… a hit like that could have caved a skull in. I don’t see anything, though. Do ghosts bruise?”

Lewis shook his head and used the countertop to pull himself to his feet, where he swayed unsteadily for a moment or two. “I don’t really have blood, so I won’t bruise, but damn did Vivi sure try.”

Arthur winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t even hear her come in.”

“Um, can someone please explain what’s going on?”

Lewis and Arthur turned to face Vivi, who had her arms folded, the cursed bat still clutched in one hand as she glared at them. “I wake up, find you gone, come running down here only to smell smoke and see you lying face down on the floor at the feet of the ghost who tried to kill you yesterday, yet now you’re all buddy-buddy with him?” Vivi said, pointing at Lewis with the bat.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck nervously while Lewis fidgeted next to him. “Ah, we kind of made up last night. He’s actually pretty cool.” The blond said lamely.

Vivi raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is Mr. Cool-Ghost’s name, then?”

“It’s Lew- wait, no.” Arthur stopped himself just in time. If he said Lewis’s real name, Vivi would just blank it out. “U-Um… well… h-his name is-”

“Lou. My name is Lou.” Lewis butted in.

Arthur glanced at him and smiled gratefully. “Y-yeah. Vivi, meet Lou, who is totally undeserving of the anti-creep stick’s wrath,” he said pointedly, glaring at the mentioned weapon. “He was only trying to help me up.”

Vivi winced and looked at Lewis apologetically. “Oh yeah, sorry about that. I just panicked when I couldn’t find Arthur.” She said sheepishly.

Lewis waved a hand dismissively. “No harm done. It’s actually kind of sweet that you’d beat a ghost off with a bat for your friend.” He chuckled with a dazzling smile.

Vivi stared at Lewis for a moment or two, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks. She leaned over and whispered to Arthur, “When exactly did the skeleton turn into a hot dude?”

Arthur burst out laughing, and Vivi’s blush darkened. She none-too-gently whacked Arthur’s back with the bat and he shut up quick.

“Sorry, sorry.” Arthur wheezed, rubbing his now aching spine. “It’s just… you have no idea, Viv.” He chuckled with a mischievous smirk.

Vivi hummed and leaned closer to Arthur, eyes narrow. “What do you mean I have no idea? Do you think Lou is hot too?”

Arthur’s face flushed pure red and he squawked, “Wh-what?! O-of course not! Why would you think that?!”

Lewis laughed at his friends’ antics and quickly added his two cents. “I’m hurt, Arthur. You don’t think I’m attractive?” He said with a pout.

Arthur’s blush extended past his neck and covered his face with his hands, mortified. “You two are unbelievable! You’re going to team up against me!” He cried.

Lewis’s laugh was booming, and while it had a terrifyingly distorted echo, the two didn’t seem to care one bit. The ghost once again clapped Arthur on the back, taking care to not knock him off his feet again.

“Don’t worry, Art, I’ll take your side every once and a while.” Lewis said. Arthur only groaned loudly behind his hands as the ghost guided him to the dining room table. “Now, sit down and eat, you two. Your food is cold already.”

Vivi happily took a seat, eager to eat as always. “You made us breakfast?”

“Yeah. Had a lot of fun doing it too.” Lewis said as he went to retrieve the omelettes.

He heard Arthur snicker. “Yeah, you should have heard him, Viv. He was singing his heart out in here with his little ghosts.”

Lewis would have objected, or blushed if he could, instead he simply warmed the food back up with a quick flare of controlled fire, and dished it. He brought the plates back to the table and set them in front of his friends.

“Sorry. They’re a bit burnt. I’m a little rusty in the kitchen.” He said sheepishly as he used his powers to conjure silverware for the two humans to use. “I could grab something for your dog to eat, too.” Lewis sat down at the head of the table and looked around. “Where is the little guy, anyways?”

Vivi looked up from her plate briefly, cheeks full of food. “I dunno.” She mumbled before swallowing. “I’ll call him.”

As she did that, Lewis eagerly watched Arthur take a bite of his meal. The blond’s face lit up and he practically melted into a happy puddle. “Oh my god. I missed your cooking so much, man.” He groaned before digging in without another word.

Lewis chuckled. The warm flame in his chest grew at his friend’s praise and he couldn’t help feeling proud of himself. Lewis watched two of the most important people in his life happily enjoy what he made. The ghost closed his eyes and rested his chin on the palms of his hands as he felt himself relax. He simply basked in the presence of his dear friends. He heard their heartbeats and felt the energy of their souls, flickering with life. Vivi’s was an energetic pink color, while Arthur’s was sunset orange with just a hint of green. They were alive, and while Lewis himself wasn’t, he found that he was somehow content with that.

Then, a third energy joined the others. This one was an overpowering crimson, writhing and shimmering with an almost oppressive magic. Lewis opened his eyes quickly and stared at the source in confusion and unease.

“Mystery! There you are! Come on, Lou has some food for you!” Vivi said happily, leaving the table to collect her pet.

The sound of a shattering plate pierced the air, followed by a chair clattering loudly to the floor. Lewis turned his attention to the noise and was shocked to see Arthur with his back against the wall, trembling uncontrollably. His metal arm was spitting yellow sparks as it rattled and convulsed. Arthur looked positively terrified, even more so than he did before, when he thought Lewis was going to kill him. His wide eyes were trained on Mystery, full of such a potent horror that it brought about an intense urge to protect him in Lewis.

The ghost left his seat and firmly planted himself between Arthur and Mystery, who looked both shocked and nervous, two very human emotions that looked out of place on a canine’s face. Lewis pinned the creature with a fiery glare.

“What the hell are you?”