#and the emotions that lewis would’ve been feeling at the time.. no wonder he has that expression on his face

[roscoehamiltons]

I’ve been thinking about this picture and like. Lewis knew at that point that he was leaving and that it was the last seat fit he would ever have at Mercedes

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance Is Blitzed (Part 7)

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initially thought.

Warnings: SMUT! YA GIRL FINALLY WROTE THE SMUT!, light angst, fluff, SMUT, Ron is a dom but he’s so into you he turns into a soft!dom, Reader is a mess, Ron is a tease, SMUT!

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Lewis Nixon was a dead man.

Even if Ron’s sudden (if not minute) PDA hadn’t clued you in to the fact that someone had told him about Nuremberg, the look of fear in Lewis’s eyes when you’d caught his gaze basically confirmed it.

 You’d mumbled something about getting some air to Ron as you watched Lewis hightail it out of there, hot on his heels as he tried to escape the wrath that you were sure showed plainly on your face.

He doesn’t get far.

 When you catch his elbow in what seemed to be the hotel staff’s dining room, he whines like a wounded animal and holds his hands up pleadingly.

 “I swear to God I, thought you’d told him already—”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Nix scoffed at that, despite the fear clearly paling his face.

“Okay, one- people were going to find out eventually. Two? How in the hell was i supposed to know that you hadn’t told your boyfriend—”

 “Not my boyfriend—”

 “—yes he is your boyfriend- about it? And three: and he doesn’t even seem to be mad about it!”

 You scoff at that, hands going to your hips as you stare at him in disbelief.

 “It wasn’t something for you to tell- if the news that I was being asked to go in hadn’t come from you in the first place, I’d never have told you either! No one was supposed to know—!”

 “What were you going to do, just dump him and disappear?!”

 Your rebuttal sticks in your throat, guilt flooding through your veins at the bluntness of his question.

It must show on your face, because Lewis furrows his brows and looks at you in disbelief.

 “No… Y/N, you aren’t seriously trying to tell me that you—?”

 “I was giving him a clean break. I am giving him a clean break.”

 You’d made the decision after you’d heard about Ron’s decision to stay with Easy and go to Japan, when you’d realized that neither of you were going to be going home anytime soon. 

In Ron’s case, he may not come home at all- and if you knew him as well as you thought you did, you knew what that would mean for the two of you. 

Hollow promises to keep in touch, followed by equally well-intentioned agreements to find the other when it all was over, both of you ultimately knowing in your heart of hearts that those commitments would inevitably fizzle out and die the moment the going got tough.

 You didn’t want that, didn’t want to trap Ron in something that was destined to fail from the get-go.

As much as he liked you, cared for you, you also knew who he was. What he would always be.

A ruthless, brilliant soldier, ready to lay it all on the line at the first opportunity. And you loved him too much to ever ask him to be anything else.

 He deserved to find happiness- even if it wasn’t with you.

 Nix looked at you pityingly, a forlorn look on his face as he digested what you’d said.

 “Look, I don’t know the guy well,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and taking a step towards you to rest a hand on your tense shoulder. “But anyone with eyes can see that you mean a lot to him.”

 You nod and offer him a tight smile, eyes drifting downward to avoid letting any potential tears come to the surface. “I know I do- I don’t doubt that. It’s not about how things are right now, though. We don’t get to live in the right now for much longer.”

 The hand on your shoulder squeezes at the muscle there, a small sound of admonishment escaping under Lew’s breath as you feel him watch you. He doesn’t like what you’re saying- you can tell that he wants to argue that you’re being ridiculous.

 But even he knows that it wouldn’t be of any use. It wouldn’t change your mind.

 “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here, Y/N. I’d bet if the others knew, they wouldn’t like it much either.”

 You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek as you look back up at him and nod. “Guess I’m breaking up with all of you, aren’t I?”

 Nixon’s eyes are shining, and you wonder if he’d be this upset if he were 100% sober. When you step into him to embrace him, he beats you to the punch and wraps his arms around you quickly, taking a deep breath that seems to make his chest expand to twice his size.

 “I suppose you’re right. Not that being dumped ever stopped me before,” he gives you a sad smile when he eventually releases you, giving your shoulder a final pat before taking his hands away. 

“Don’t be surprised when I show up at your window, drunk as a skunk and proclaiming my undying love for you at 3 am sometime in the near future.”

 As you open your mouth to reply, you see Nix’s focus flick to something past your shoulder.

Even if you hadn’t seen the fear on the man’s face, you still would’ve known that it was Ron.

 Because of course it would be him. 

 Gritting your teeth, you sigh and close your eyes. Dread tasted sour on your tongue as you turned your head to peer over your shoulder, flinching at the look of silent fury marring his handsome face. Sniffing, you force yourself to speak despite the tightness clenching at your throat.

 “You should go, Lew,” you say quietly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 Lewis says nothing as you turn around to face Ron, the sound of his retreating footsteps barely registering in your ears as anxiety sends blood thrumming loudly in your ears. Ron’s sharp eyes make you feel impossibly small, and you think you can now understand what everyone else had been talking about for the past few years. Ron was scary. You did feel scared.

 “You and I need to get some things straightened out.”

 His words are clipped, and if he sees you flinch at the tone in his voice he doesn’t show it. You inhale shakily, realizing you had been holding your breath for too long and wetting your lips as you searched for the right words to say.

 Just as you open your mouth to speak, Ron turns on his heel and begins to stride off, and once you are able to unstick the soles of your shoes from the floor you trail after him cautiously. When you reach the doorway, you see that he’s stopped a few paces from the door frame, waiting. In a move that surprises you, he uncurls his hand from the fist it had been in and holds it out to you, eyes heavy and dark and trained on you.

 Quickly, you flicker your eyes between his face and his hand, only stepping forward and taking it after you’ve mustered up enough confidence that it wasn’t going to be something you regretted doing. You’d never had someone mad at you like this before, at least not for as intimate a reason as he was now. Of course, you’d never allowed yourself to care for someone like this before either- maybe this mortifying combination of guilt and heartbreak was normal.

 The moment your hand finds his, he turns away from you and starts walking again, and as you follow you realize that he’s leading you towards the room you both share. There's no softness in the way his hand holds yours, the grip firm and unyielding. It almost makes you feel like a child being pulled off for a private scolding from a parent.

You hate it.

 The journey to your room is both too long and not nearly long enough, and it’s only when he opens the door and releases your hand that you fear that you may never get the chance to feel his touch ever again. That reality was already one you’d been dreading, with him leaving so soon to go where you could not follow. The thought of that time coming sooner because of something like this was devastating.

 You stand in front of the door once it closes, ready to have him ask you to leave at a moment’s notice. Unblinking, you watch him shirk off his jacket and toss it on a nearby chair, shrugging the suspenders down from his shoulders with a spark of agitation. His hair has begun to fall into disarray, and the idea of him hating you while looking so unfairly handsome makes your heart tighten painfully in your chest. 

Unwilling to wait out the inevitable for a moment longer, you clear your throat at steel yourself.

 “Ron-”

 “You don’t get to hide that kind of shit from me.”

 He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his voice quiet and uncomfortably devoid of emotion. As he walks over to the table that held a decanter of whiskey and fine crystal glasses to pour a drink, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear and try again

 “I was just trying to give—”

 “—give me a 'clean break', yeah. I heard.”

 Bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, you watch as he clenches his jaw and swallows.

“Did you ever think about asking me what I wanted?“

 That does throw you, and as he sets the glass down and turns to look at you you make no move to hide the look of confusion on your face. Glancing down at your shoes, you shake your head softly and try and find your voice once more

 “I- but you don’t want this. You don’t want to be tied down—”

 “And what makes you so confident that you know what I want, huh?” 

There's clear anger in his voice now, and you look up just in time to watch him walk over to you. You straighten as he comes to a stop right before you, hands braced on his hips as he all but glowers down at you. 

 “You don’t get to make those sort of decisions for me- got it?”

He emphasizes the bite on the ‘t’ in ‘it’, the puff of air from his breath hitting your face. 

 When you make to turn away from him, one of his hands flashes up to grip your jaw- his touch gentle but authoritative enough that you know it’d be a bad idea to go against it.  Something about the movement irks you, makes your heart beat faster from something much darker than fear or dread. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tilt your head back infinitesimally. Defiantly. 

 Ron notices, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Last time I checked, you aren’t a mind reader- and even if you were, you’d be a shit one because if you think what I want is anything other than you, you really don’t know me at all.”

 “Stop it, Ron,” you mutter quietly, watching as his eyes flicker down to your mouth before dragging back up to meet your eyes again. “You’re being mean.”

 He exhales sharply at that, a ghost of a rueful smile quirking his mouth before shaking his head. 

“Am I?”

 When you roll your eyes, he steps into you even more, using his hold on your jaw to tilt your head back further so you are still able to hold his glare.

 “Like it or not, Y/N, you’re it for me- you got that? If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine- but know that I’d tear this whole entire goddamned continent apart if you wanted me to—”

 “Why!?” you snap, his declaration bringing forth the sadness you’d managed to temporarily quell. 

 At the sight of tears refilling your eyes, Ron’s brows furrow and some of the darkness leaves his face. Shaking your head imploringly, you bring a hand up to circle his wrist. 

 “You could do anything, be anywhere with anyone you wanted! We….we’re just children, Ronald- and I love you but I’d never delude myself into pretending that I know the first thing about how to do this- any of this!”

You bring your other hand up to rest lightly on his chest, lowering your gaze to look at the slight tremble of your fingers as you do so. 

 “You were born for greatness, born to lead and fight and conquer….but all I was born to do was just exist for other people- like my parents or my family or whoever else needed something from me. Then, eventually, become somebody’s wife and give him a family. But….. I threw away any chance of that future in order to be here, and now that this is ending I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!”

 Swallowing in a vain attempt to keep your voice from breaking, you look back up at him, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I won’t drag you down that mess with me, you deserve more than that- than me. I won’t ruin you, too—”

 “Y/N,” Ron murmurs admonishingly.

 “What?!”

 With an ease that you two had only just begun to establish, he seals his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up and forcing you to take the first deep breath you’d taken in a long time. There’s an edge of desperation to it- just as there had been in your first kiss back all those months ago in Foy. 

 Only this time his lips taste like whiskey and something a tinge more wicked. 

A promise of more.

 Breaking the kiss but keeping his face close you yours, Ron brings his other hand up to cup your face. Brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, he eyes you softly.

 “Don’t tell me what I deserve.” 

Kiss.

“Stop telling me what to do.” 

Kiss 

“Let me conquer.”

 This kiss is filthy, his lips plush and confident and unafraid in their mission to leave you completely mindless. Ron has stepped so close to you that your head has tilted all the way back into his hands, his fingers purposefully twisting in your roots so he has more control over the kiss.

 Despite the fact that he’s never handled you this way before- you have no desire to ask him to slow down or be gentler.

You like it. You want more.

 When you whimper into his mouth, you can feel him grin briefly before sliding one hand down your back to fist at the material of your shirt and bunching it free from where it had been tucked into the back of your pants. 

 Up until now, Ron had been nothing but gentle when it came to you- and while you knew him to be dominant and ruthless in battle you’d considered what his temperament would be like as a lover. Clearly, the confidence translated. 

 You slide the hand that had been on his chest up and around his shoulders, your elbow hooking around his neck and pulling him closer. As you nip at his bottom lip, Ron hums low in his chest. The hand he’d had on the small of your back has moved down to grip at your ass, and with a quick peck he pulls back slightly.

 “Hold on,” he grumbles, and just as you open your mouth to ask for clarification Ron wraps his arms around your hips and lifts you so you’re having to lean into him, your feet stumbling across the floor as he turns you both and quickly walks the both of you to the bed. 

 He’s barely set you down before his hands find the hem of your blouse again, rucking it up your sides before your brain catches up with him and you tear it over your head. Your skin feels hot, and it feels even hotter at the feeling of Ron’s lips mouthing at the tops of your breasts as you fumble with the clasp of your bra.

 “Shit,” you hear yourself curse, hating your fingers for being so uncoordinated. Undeterred by the fabric of the bra you’d pinched from one of the homes the lot of you had been asked to secure a week ago, Ron bites softly at your nipples until they stiffen. When you finally unhook the fastenings, he pulls the cups of the bra down easily and continues his attentions.

 You curse again, head swimming at the realization that his own fingers have found the zipper of your pants and begun to pull it down. Carding your hands through his hair, you desperately try and calm your breathing while distantly realizing that he’s still fully clothed.

 “Ron,” you gasp, looking down your chest and meeting his bright eyes as he sucks marks down the valley between your breasts. “I wanna see you—”

 His hum is dark as he mockingly tilts his head at you, successfully pulling the fabric of your trousers down your hips until gravity takes over and it all pools at your feet.

 “You are seeing me,” he insists quietly, trailing his blunt fingernails down your hips until they catch your underwear and shucking them down your legs as well. When you frown he bites some of the skin just under your left breast, chuckling wickedly at the squeak of surprise you’re unable to hide.

 “Take your shirt off!” you nearly whine, your head falling back as he laves at the bite with his tongue. “You’re not being- shit….you’re being unfair—!”

 “Then do something about it.”

 You do whine at that, too frustrated to worry about being gentle as you take your hands from his hair to claw at his shirt- bunching and pulling at the fabric covering his back until you manage to get enough in your fists to pull it gracelessly over his head. Pure want has boiled your blood like a fever, with the only two thoughts in your mind being more more more and faster faster faster.

 Before you can work his shirt any further down his arms, he shoves you back unceremoniously onto the bed, quick to pull your hips to the edge of the bed before bothering to continue undressing himself. 

With a nearly comical desperation, you toe off your shoes, licking your dry lips as you watch the muscles of his torso bunch and lengthen as he strips the remainder of his clothing off- his eyes on you the entire time and his gaze doing nothing to calm the heaving of your chest.

 “Christ, look at you,” he says quietly, a clear note of pride in his voice. “Too pretty for your own good, aren’t you?”

 You blush at that, swallowing audibly at the praise and squeezing your eyes shut.

It all just was so much….

 When you open your eyes again, you moan at the sight of him kneeling before you and pulling at your legs until they were over his shoulders. As you start to sit up you are pushed back down again by his hand on your chest, the feeling of his breath on your sex robbing you of any speech capabilities you had previously possessed.

 “Just like that,” he commands gently. “Stay just like that.”

 Maybe it was because it had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual intimacy with another person, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that your previous sexual partners hadn’t been particularly invested in the act, but one thing was for certain:

 Ron Speirs was unfathomably good at cunnilingus.

 You could only gape stupidly at the ceiling with your mouth open in a silent scream of overwhelm as he took your clit between his lips and absolutely ruined you- his tongue and teeth and fingers tearing you away from reality with a nearly cruel proficiency. It was almost humiliating how effectively he dismantled your already tenuous sense of composure, and if you had any sense of pride left you probably would’ve hated him for it.

 He was making a mess of you, and he was doing it too easily.

 Feeling a sheen of sweat glisten your skin, you can only hold onto him as your body trembles- and it’s all you can do to keep your hips on the bed as your back arches and your body rocks.

 “Ron, please….I’m gonna cum—” you hear yourself choke out in warning, squeezing your eyes shut as something burning hot and sugar-sweet builds deliciously in your lower belly

 “Oh yeah?” you feel him ask, one of his arms hooking around your hips to help still you. “Want to bet?”

 Your eyes flash open

“What—?!”

 You nearly howl in fury when he takes his mouth away, instantly sitting up to watch in betrayed dismay as he curls two fingers inside of you and adds a new kind of stimulation- one that keeps you on that cruel precipice without offering you any sort of relief.

 He smirks up at you, and any affection you’d previously held for him is jeopardized by his clear mirth at the situation. 

 “Sorry, Sweetheart,” Ron says lowly, nothing in his voice conveying any sort of remorse. “But you don’t get to call the shots right now.”

 You open and close your mouth desperately, unable to decide which sort of response would get you what you wanted. A frustrated shriek slips out in the interim, and when his smile broadens you remove your hands from his hair and smack at his head.

 “Jesus Christ, Ron! What’s the matter with you—?!”

 “Do you have any idea how good you taste, Y/N?” He continues as if you hadn’t spoken at all, ducking down to place a greedy kiss to your sex before pulling back again. “To think you were going to have me leave without letting me get my mouth on the source….absolutely heartless—”

 “I get it, okay? Fuck Ron! What more do you want me to do?” 

 You wince at the addition to a third finger inside of you, the stretch adding the tiniest bit of ache to your horribly prolonged almost-orgasm. The forearm across your hips holds you down when you try to squirm in any direction in hopes of getting some more stimulation.

 “Apologize.”

 You widen your eyes at him, a scowl on your face as you look down your panting chest at him. “What?”

 Like the cruel bastard he is, Ron shrugs as if the solution to all of this has been obvious the whole time.

“Say you’re sorry, and I’ll make it all better.”

 Shaking your head, you hear yourself scoff. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 You yelp as he turns his head to bite your thigh, fisting a handful of his hair to pull him away.

 Smoothing the flat of his tongue over the bite, he closes his eyes wistfully and sighs.

 “Close, but that’s not what I want to hear,” Ron says before tilting his head and looking back up at you, the tendons in his forearm pronounced as his fingers tirelessly continue their strokes inside of you.  

“Say it. Say ‘Ron, I’m sorry.”

 Biting the insides of your cheeks, you fix him with a glare and sigh with frustration.

“Fine! I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry, Ron!”

 He purses his lips, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. You whimper as he slides his fingers out from inside you, but before you can think yourself victorious Ron uses those fingers to start rolling your clit- still keeping you on the edge while giving you just a hint of what you needed.

 “Goddamnit, RONALD—!”

 “Tell me that you deserve me,” he demands, his words taking on a gravelly tone. As you search his eyes, you see a heartbreaking shine of sincerity staring back at you.  “Say it and then I’ll let you cum.”

 Your throat is becoming tight, an unexpected wave of emotion hitting you and bringing tears to your eyes. The hand not currently torturing your clit squeezes your hip, and with a shake of your head you close your eyes.

 “I-I deserve you,” you acquiesce, feeling your lower lip threatening to quiver. “I’m sorry.”

 “Gutes Mädchen (good girl).”

 Your head falls back with a moan as he latches his mouth to you again, body bowing as he ruthlessly finishes what he’d started and destroys you- sending you spiraling into bright euphoria and letting you float in the heat of it. You’re suddenly thankful for the arm across your hips, for it’s the only thing anchoring you to the real world as you shake for him.

 “So perfect,” you can hear him saying, his voice now at your ear as you become aware of the press of his cock between your lower lips. “You’re the most perfect thing I've ever seen.”

 Whining pathetically, you tilt your head back and clutch at his back.

“Please,” you beg, eyelids heavy and gaze unfocused. “Please—”

 He doesn’t draw it out this time, quickly hooking his arm under your left leg and opening your hips so he can press himself inside of you. Still wrung out for your orgasm, you can only cry out softly at the feeling of him bottoming out, a broken sound of his own vibrating through his chest into yours.

 You’ve never considered Ron to be a particularly talkative person, so when he begins to babble it catches you off guard while simultaneously endearing him to you further.

 “I can’t believe how good you feel You surely were sent to ruin me God you’re such a good girl Better than I could’ve imagined Squeezing me so tightly I don’t want to be without you I want nothing else than this In what world would you think that I wouldn’t adore you I am yours entirely you ridiculous woman Shit I can feel you shaking Getting so tight Fuck do that again Are you going to cum again I want to hear you scream….”

 Too lost in his words, you don’t know if you actually screamed as you came again- but you do know that at some point you’ve turned your head and sealed your lips to his. His hips stutter as he cums with a breath shout, his free hand dancing up and down your side with a carnal desperation that you could understand but not replicate- not now.

 Because now you are well and truly wrung out.

 The weight of Ron’s body atop yours is welcome, and the sweet way he kisses you is almost too much for your fragile mind to process.

 “Y/N?”

 Ron’s voice is soft, and as you blink your eyes open you cannot help but smile satedly up at him. He looks beautiful, and the soft way he’s looking at you makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Hm?”

 He brings a hand to your face and smooths some of your hair behind your torn ear. 

“You weren’t born for someone else,” he says the words carefully, as if he is struggling with ensuring that they are the right ones. “But…. I’m starting to think that maybe I was. Or that, maybe we were…..Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

 Taking his face between your hands, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift across his handsome face.

Lifting your head, you lightly press your lips to his and sigh.

 “Yeah, Ron….I think I do.”

 He deepens the kiss, pulling you with him as he rolls to the side and holds you against him.

 “Mo Leannan,” he murmurs into your hair as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mo Chridhe.”

 You furrowed your brow, the words unfamiliar and in a language you could not identify. It was common knowledge that Ron spoke a passable level of German, but from the way his mouth wrapped around these words, you wondered if he was fluent in another language and had just never told you about it.

 “What did you say?” you asked softly, exhaustion having crept into both of your bodies and rendered you mostly immobile.

 Humming, Ron wraps the hand you’d rested on his chest in his and brings it up to his face so he can kiss your palm.

 “Later,” he says sleepily before lowering your joined hands to rest on his sternum. “I’ll tell you later. Rest.”

 And because you believe him, you do as he says and allow yourself to be swept away.

~ ~ ~

HELLO AND HI! This took forever and a day to write but only bc I overthought everyhting and got distracted by other shiny things SO WHOOPS MY B! Anyhoo- I love ya’ll and remember to hydrate!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

25, Vivi to Arthur, post-reunion? :3c

25. “I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.” (source)

Vivi watches from the couch as Arthur paces across the room for what feels like the hundredth time that day. She's not technically allowed to do much walking, between the concussion and the large gash in her side and the memory-fuzziness that's still making her feel faint at random times, so she's been stuck letting other people – mostly Arthur, if she's being honest – bring her things while she struggles to read over her notes about what the hell has been going on. She feels more than a little restless, but it's better than falling and hitting her head again.

The ghost– Lewis is off somewhere, probably in his room (his room, he has a room in this house because he was their friend– ). Trying to sort through his own side of this mess, freshly freed from his own memory problems. The only source of activity in the house is Arthur, who she's pretty sure hasn't stopped moving since he woke up.

–Actually, has he even gotten any sleep? None of them slept the night after everything that happened, there was too much to do and talk about and it would've only been a few hours' worth anyway, but the night after that, Vivi had crashed pretty hard, and she'd assumed he had too. Now that she was thinking about it, though, it... didn't seem very likely that he'd just gone to bed and been fine. It was much easier to believe that he'd pulled another all-nighter.

And now he was spending another day running around, trying to do repairs on the van and intermittent checkups on his arm and cleaning the house (because honestly it had been too long since they’d actually cleaned, they’d been too busy investigating) and grabbing things for her and making sure Lewis was still doing okay.

She closed her eyes briefly, biting back a sigh. You did it, she thought bitterly. You found Lewis and brought him home, and everyone's safe and the only thing left to do is let the dust settle and you still can't let yourself relax.

From behind the darkness, she heard him say as if on cue, “y’doin’ alright, V-vivi? Any- anyth-thing I can get you?”

She forced her eyes open, inhaling. “M’fine, just tired.” Then she blinked at him.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been actively trying not to look at her, just so she couldn’t see what she was seeing now. The dark bags around his eyes, the pale cast to his face, the bruises on his cheek from– who knows, crashing the van or either of the long falls or getting tossed around by the monster that had taken over Mystery. For the first time, now that she was actually looking, she wondered if there were more bruises she couldn’t see. It seemed likely.

And even if there weren’t. The ghost– his friend– Lewis had almost killed him, and then he’d been chased and knocked around by a monster from his nightmares – and he’d spend the past few months running on fumes, barely sleeping or eating.

It had happened so slowly that she hadn’t noticed at the time, but he almost looked more dead than the ghost now. Like something had hollowed him out, drained him of all his life. He should be resting, as much as he could, not running around trying to make sure everyone else was okay.

All that went through her mind in just a few seconds while she stared at him, as he stacked up the cups and towels she’d left on the table. As he was standing up again, she finally decided to say something.

“Actually... can you sit down with me? Hang out?”

“...what f-for?”

“Just... I wanna have some company. For a little bit.”

“O-oh. Uh- I should really-” his eyes darted around the room, tension building in his shoulders. She could practically hear his internal debate – he wanted to do what she asked him to, but he didn’t want to stop moving – and it just made her heart ache more. Eventually, one side won, and he set everything back down.

“I-I guess? Just for- f-for a little- a little while.”

She waited for him to get comfortable next to her. He couldn’t seem to settle down and stop fidgeting, his eyes continuing to dart around the room. Eventually he focused on the books on the table.

“S-so- uh- how is this go- going? Do-”

She touched his shoulder, lightly tugging him back into the couch. “Arthur.”

He gave her a wide-eyed look, pulling back a little, his shoulders hunching forward. “Y-yeah?” 

“How are you doing?”  

“Fine.” The answer was almost immediate and very confident-sounding, which would have been nice if it wasn’t obviously entirely false.

She took both his hands in hers, putting them in his lap and forcing him to focus forwards, on her. “Okay. Let’s try that again. I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

He took a deep breath, seeming to shiver a little. “A-alright?”

“How are you?” 

“F-fine! I mean- I’m a little tired but- but I- I don’t-” his voice snagged and he broke out of her hold to put one hand on his face, shoulders shaking suddenly with a quiet “shit.” He sniffed and tried to start over, shaking his head, but it was increasingly less convincing because he couldn’t stop crying.

She leaned back and shifted, slowly, carefully, to ease him into her side. It took him a minute to accept, and then he leaned in and buried his face in her shoulder. She put her arms loosely over his shoulders, careful not to entirely encircle and trap him.

“I don’t-” he tried to say after a moment, “I’m s-s-sorry, I-”

“Don’t,” she said, trying not to let how much that hurt show in her voice. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. You did great. Everyone’s safe, you don’t need to do anything else, just relax.”

He shuddered with a soft whine in her arms, and she pulled him in a little more.

After a while, he went quiet – not that he made a lot of noise when he cried anyway, but his breathing evened out – and she realized he’d fallen asleep. He was finally resting.

A small movement in the corner of her eye, and she turned to see the– Lewis standing there.

“Hey, Lew,” she said without thinking, and then was surprised a half-second later by how relaxed and easy the greeting was.

He seemed almost at a loss for words, looking at her and Arthur in turn. She had no idea what he was thinking, but she forced herself to not immediately assume the worst, that he was jealous or angry about it.

“You look... comfortable,” was what he eventually said. His voice was soft – maybe with some emotion, or maybe (more likely) he just knew he had to stay quiet or he’d probably wake Arthur up. Honestly, it was impressive he hadn’t the second someone new entered the room. He must be exhausted.

“Actually,” once again her mouth was moving before she processed the words, and she decided to just go with it, “do you think you could help me move him? This probably isn’t the most comfortable spot to take a nap.” Much as she would have liked to just carry him to bed herself, she was in no shape to lift anything heavier than a book.

“Oh- ah- sure.” He floated forward and knelt, easily scooping him up. She saw his hand move towards her for a second, and then he seemed to think better of it.

She reached out and took it, following him and leaning on him slightly as he stood.

He just stared at her for a moment. His eyes were wide, brow slightly creased. “...Vivi-”

“Shh,” she cut him off, “this is a very delicate operation.”

At that, he ducked his head slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with what she knew was shoved-down laughter. There was a small twinge in her chest at the sight, like long-dormant butterflies.

...Maybe she could get used to this again, after all.

[carynsilver]

Favorite Fics: Malex Edition

It’s a new year (quite definitively at this point), and a new set of fic recs. Just my small way of saying thank you to the writers who have made the past year, with all its challenges, a little better for me personally. Without the escape of reading, I don’t think I would’ve gotten through the past eleven months, so thank all of y’all for creating (now and in the past) and for sharing your work. You do it for free, and it’s amazing stuff.

If you’re interested, I previously shared my top 10 Stucky, Drarry, Stony, and Darcy Lewis (Wintershock, Shieldshock, and Tasertricks, mostly) fic lists. Today, I’ve finally decided on my top 10 Maxlex fics. So, in no particular order...

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage

If I were making a top 10 fics of all time list, this story would be on it. The breadth and scope of it is truly amazing, as is the writing. There’s world-fixing time travel and an interesting take on our favorite aliens and what could’ve been. Alex as a time agent is both so tragic and also so strong as he begins his journey of self discovery. He’s such an unreliable narrator, and yet also can clearly see so many things. Watching Michael’s growth through the years is just as fascinating as watching Alex travel through time. And it’s juxtaposed with the present so well. This Alex and Michael learn to communicate as they learn about themselves. And the story also taught me a ton about the Middle East and various historical events. I really love this story, and you should definitely read it right now if you haven’t yet.

To Trust Love by @laughsalot3412

This fic is amazing. It takes hurt/comfort to the nth degree. Michael, Isobel, and Max are the only remaining prisoners/subjects in Project Shepherd, and Alex (with the help of Liz, Kyle, and Maria) goes under cover as a guard to get them out. But to do so, first he has to gain their trust--an almost impossible test. The tweaks to the alien abilities and the handprint are interesting. Jesse Manes, as always, is absolutely horrible. But good wins in the end, and the boys are able to figure things out despite the mistakes they make along the way. I mean, trigger warnings for so much in a prison fic with Jesse Manes in it, but it is an awesome story. This author only wrote one RNM fic, but it’s a great one.

From Iraq, with Love by @adiwriting

Alex leaves for basic no way to contact Michael, so he reaches out to him via a YouTube channel. Alex writes years and years’ worth of love songs, hoping maybe Michael will see them and get in touch. The scene when Michael finally sees them is a gut punch in the best way, and the end is so satisfying. A truly excellent story, and I love how music from the heart eases their way into real communication--because, man, that is what these poor boys need.

unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart

The Vegas fic! Actually, that is not what this fic is about. There is only one scene set in Vegas, and yet that was the one I remembered when I was trying to find the fic again, lol. In this AU, Michael was never reunited with his siblings in Roswell, but he and Alex meet after Alex enlists. They meet three different times in three different states, and eventually fall in love. Then Alex has to come home to Roswell and take care of this little alien problem so his boyfriend can be safe from the horror that is Jesse Manes. One of the best things about this story is the past/present narrative structure. Only a really good writer can tell a successful story out of chronological order, and @bestillmyslashyheart really succeeds. Check out her other work, as well, such as A Simple Life (but with aliens).

Shadow Work by @myrmidryad

This fic has stellar world building. Alex and Michael are shades--people who work banishing hauntings, curses, etc. The scientific way the supernatural elements are approached is so interesting, as well as the different ways humans and aliens perceive them. Alex is a total unreliable narrator just because of how the haunt is affecting him, but he still gets the job done. This is a world you can just sink into. Totally immersive, and yet it works so well with the alien mythology we already have. And the conclusion to the haunt mystery is so satisfying. Such a great story!

Lovin’ you is a gift tonight (Lovin’ you for all of my life) by @bellakitse

Michael turned his cheek when Alex tried to kiss him, and then Alex and Rosa ran off to NYC before anything else could happen. Michael thinks of Alex as the one who got away, and then he runs into him when he’s stuck at the airport in Denver, trying to get home to Roswell for Christmas. Their reunion in the airport is fluffy and amazing, just a pleasure to read. And then they end up back in Roswell and all the other stuff comes into play in a really satisfying, let’s-deal-with-it-as-adults-instead-of-children kind of way. Ah, so good!

scream in there by thepredatorywasp

I’ll be honest, this one starts a little rough emotionally, but man, Alex and Michael really earn their happily ever after here. It is worth it. And then we get River! I enjoy a good kid!fic, and River the little alien found in a pod who gloms onto Alex and never lets go is amazing! River is my favorite kiddo that I’ve ever read in a Malex story.

truth (to the people we love) by @lambourngb

This is probably the shortest fic on my rec list. I am biased toward the long ones, I know. But man this one packs a punch. Alex recorded a goodbye message when he was overseas, and he has to tell it not to auto send every week. Then he is kidnapped for ten days... I don’t want to spoil too much, but just read it. It also plays with the narrative structure. And if you like this one, definitely check out @lambourngb‘s other stories. collect the bad habits and Vows are also great reads!

I Know Nothing Stays the Same by @aewriting

This is one of those stories that sticks in your head. It is awful (emotion-wise, not writing-wise) and wonderful all wrapped up together in the best way. Alex and Michael run away after the shed incident and go into hiding for five years. This is the past storyline. There’s also a present and a future. The ending of this story was so gorgeous, I don’t want to spoil it, but I remember it all the time when I think of Malex. Lovely and poignant. This is another version of this couple that <i>earn</i> their happiness together. And if you want even more in this ‘verse, the very talented @andrea-lyn (who also has a ton of great Malex stories) wrote a coda called There’s More Room in a Broken Heart.

Send Me Home by @litwitlady

I waffled back and forth about which story would fill the final slot. It’s always so hard to choose when there are so many excellent ones out there, but I had to have one of @litwitlady‘s stories on the list. She has quite a few excellent ones, but Send Me Home is my favorite. Michael the baseball player is both compelling and also heartwarming in his softer life. This is another fic where Alex is a musician, this one an actual country music star. So, it’s a sports fic and a celebrity romance, in addition to being a Malex RNM story. it is a WiP, which I sometimes hesitate to rec, but there’s only one more chapter to go, so I feel pretty safe about it. And she has lots of other stories you should check out. I’m fond of the Reunion series, as well.

So, that’s it for this post. Thanks again to all the amazing fanfic authors and their awesome work. I’ve read so many great Malex fics lately. On this list or not, I appreciate you guys!

[chaotic-noceur]

but your lies were so sweet

[ day 6 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x reader

summary: In his time with Statesman, Jack has gone by many names. In your experience, they were all just aliases for the same liar.

warnings: false identities, lying, no fluff all angst

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm for beta reading and nudging me back into writing this! Also, some inspiration was taken from Headspace by Lewis Capaldi.

a/n: ahhh we’re almost at the end of this week of pain 😭To those of you who have been reading these every day, I applaud you for sticking with us through it all, and thank you for all the love and support! To those of you who have just found this, welcome to the angst! Once again, i apologise for the pain but this ones pretty gentle considering Javi’s....

gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor

“Just tell me why!” you begged, grabbing his hand harshly. “I just want to know why Alex.” He tugs his arm free from your grasp as he spins round to meet your gaze. “Just tell me that and I’ll-” you swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat, “tell me why and I’ll let you go.” He clenches his jaw. 

He hadn’t meant for it to go this far, hadn’t meant to hurt you. But one thing had led to another and before he knew it… he’d found himself living the life that he had always wanted. Except it wasn’t real. It wasn’t really his. Worst of all, he’d dragged you so far into his fantasy that you were bound to get caught in the crossfire when it inevitably came crashing down around him. 

“Look, sweetheart,” his shoulders drop with a sigh. “There’s something you should know.” His voice is hushed, tired. You fold your arms in an attempt to not lose your patience. “That night you and I met? That wasn’t any mistake.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you take a step towards him and he eyes the closing of space between you. You ignore the frown forming on his face. “It’s like the stars had aligned and you waltzed into my life and I was falling for you befor-”

“No, sweetheart. You’re not hearing me.” His duffle bag falls onto the floor with a loud thump as he grasps you by the shoulders. “Our ‘accidental meeting’ was no accident.”

“Wha-”

“The night we met, the thoughtful dates, the entirety of our relationship-” he lets go of you to wave his arm out for emphasis, “it was all one big set up t’ get you t’ fall for me. It ain’t nothing personal darlin’,” he shrugs cooly, “it’s just the job.” 

The nonchalant tone in his voice makes your blood boil and you clench your fists at your sides. “What are you talking about?” 

He deliberates keeping the act up, or spinning up a new lie. Either way, the damage has been done. But the dejected look on your face, the innocent glimmer in your eyes… it stirs something in him that he doesn’t want to address. Not now. Not while he had a mission to complete. 

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that urges him to tell you the truth. To give you some semblance of closure. You deserved that much. 

He sighs before he speaks. “My name isn’t Alex, it’s Jack.” He watches as confusion blooms across your features. “Now I can’t in good faith tell you what it is I do for a living but I sure as hell ain’t no pilot. I don’t li-”

“No.” You bring a hand up to stop him as the pieces of the puzzle start falling into place. “You told me- you- you were so-” you shake your head in disbelief as you stumble back, strings of mumbled ‘no’s falling from your lips. Your hand clutches the door handle for support. He watches as you inhale shallow breaths, your eyes darting across the floor.

“I thought you loved me,” you whisper finally. He would’ve missed it had he not been paying you so much attention. 

“I only told you what you wanted to hear darlin’.” The weight of his words crash into you with full force and you struggle to breathe. You clutch a hand to your chest, clawing at the invisible knife that’s stabbing at your heart. “You don’t know anything about me, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!” You throw yourself at him and shove him hard. He stumbles into the hallway until his back hits the wall. “You have no right to call me that!” You sneer. Turning away from him, you shake your head in disgust. You pace across the walkway as you compose your thoughts.

Eventually, you stop in front of your open door as you turn your head to look at him. When you speak, there’s a calmness to your voice that makes his stomach lurch in disgust. “You talked about wanting a love that lasts. A love so strong that you would do anything to keep it but you know what?” You raise your eyebrow at him tauntingly. “A man like you?” You scoff. “You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.”

You step over his discarded duffle bag before slamming the door shut behind you. Tears well in your eyes as you lean your back against the stained wood. Your shoulders drop in defeat as you slide to the ground, silent sobs wracking through your body. You’d fallen for the ghost of a man, a creation of your imagination—of his. But why did the pain feel so real?

Through clouded eyes, the photo frame sitting on your shared bookshelf catches your attention and something in you snaps. 

You storm across the room and hurl the offensive object at the wall. The shattering of glass rings out in your ears but it’s not enough to drown out the pain in your chest. Your glare fixes onto the collection of books the pair of you had started and you grit your teeth at the sight. Angry sobs echo across your empty apartment as you yank books of the shelf. 

You want every trace of him gone.

●●●●

When Jack gets back to headquarters, he’s greeted with proud smiles and shoulder clasps. Champagne gives his usual debriefing speech but Jack can’t stop your words from echoing through his mind.

You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.

Deep down, he understands that they were words said out of anger. He wants to believe that you didn’t mean them. But a small part of him can’t help but wonder… maybe you were right. No matter what he did, he never seems to be able to save the people he loved from getting hurt. 

The truth is, he’d never meant to fall for you or to have his affections returned. But the longer his little charade went on, the more he felt himself losing himself in the make believe of it all. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed the feeling of redamancy until you started loving him back. 

The thrill that had shot through his body with every gentle touch you gave him. The warmth that filled his chest with every smile you sent his way. It felt like the first balmy sunbeams of spring thawing the frozen ground after a long, icy winter. He had relished in the feeling - the relief of knowing he hadn’t gone completely numb to all emotion. He got so caught up in the bliss that he almost forgot about the hurricane of deceit that loomed over his head, threatening to make landfall at any moment.  

●●●●

Years later, when his muscles are stiff and his mind heavy with the burden of past missions, he’s finally ready to surrender his code name. He’s helped bring down countless criminal organisations and he was done. He was tired of the continual fighting; tired of the secrets and lies.

He loved his job, don’t get him wrong. The Statesman gave him a home when his had been so cruelly stolen from him. They gave him a purpose when he felt nothing more than blind rage. 

But he never quite managed to quench the tiny fragment of him that longed for a normal life. A life free from the looming threat of violence and death. A life where he has a local bar & grill and they know his order off by heart. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He hopes he still has the chance to find out.

The months with you feel like a distant memory now, but the emotions remain. At times, he thinks he sees your face amongst a sea of strangers. He thinks he hears your voice, lulling him to the land of dreams. He thinks he remembers the taste of your lips against his, but he can’t be sure.  

●●●●

Glancing to the numbers by the door as he crumples the sheet of paper in his grip. He straightens the leather jacket before delivering three firm knocks against the door. The silence that he’s met with allows for the doubt to sink in.

Did you even want to see him? What could he possibly say to you to make up for the hurt? What if you’ve moved on? What if this just stands to cause you more pain? What if you hate him? You have every right to hate him. He hates himself for what he did to you. 

A metallic clinking jolts him from his thoughts and he reaches instinctively for the ghost of his lasso as he turns. His breath hitches when his gaze falls on you. The expression you wear is somewhere between anger and hurt and he doesn’t know which one he hates more.

You stare at each other for a quiet moment before both attempting to speak at once. Your overlapping voices form an abrupt dissonance that startles even yourselves.

“I wanted to-”

“What are you-”  He clears his throat awkwardly and you bring your arm up, gesturing for him to continue.

“I owe you a formal explanation,” he states. You scoff quietly. He owes you a lot more than that. “Perhaps we could talk in a more… private setting” He eyes the neighbouring doors suspiciously. A raised, unimpressed eyebrow is your only response. “The things I need to say… they aren’t for the public ear.” You roll your eyes at him. There was always some secret with him. When you fold your arms across your chest, he softens. “Please.”

A part of you hates him. It wants to scream and hurl insults at him until your throat is raw. But a bigger part of you needs to know why he had left. What he’d meant when he said it was ‘just the job’. Why he’d lied to you the whole time.

There’s a slight downturn in his lips that makes the rope around your heart tighten its grip and you want nothing more than to cut yourself free. But there’s a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes that makes it difficult to hold your anger.

With a sigh, you pick your dropped keys off the floor, step around him and key the door open with more force than necessary. You hold it open for him before leaning against the other side. 

Jack looks around awkwardly as he takes in the signs of you that are scattered throughout the space. He notes the distinctive lack of him. All remnants of him had been wiped clean. Although, he supposes they weren’t really parts of him to begin with. They were parts of the man he wanted to be. The man he will never be. 

The sound of you clearing your throat jolts him from his spiralling thoughts. There’s a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before and he shrinks back slightly, feeling painfully out of place. He can’t recall the last time he was this nervous and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. You drum your fingers impatiently across your folded arm and he inhales deeply before beginning. Come hell or high water, there was no going back now.

“M’ real name is Jack, Jack Daniels.” The drumming stops. You stare at him, dumbfounded. An incredulous laugh threatens to leave your lips - he honestly expected you to believe that that is his name? But there’s no trace of humour in his eyes so you clamp your mouth shut. “I was an agent for a secret intelligence agency known as Statesman. Now, Alex was-” he pauses as he grapples for the right words, “a made-up persona, designed to capture your interest, so to speak.” You inhale sharply, though you hide it well. He continues. “You should know, it wasn’t you that we were after. Your friends were involved with some… suspicious people and we needed t-” you hold out a hand to stop him. 

“What do you mean ‘suspicious’?” You push off the door to step toward him. “My friends aren’t criminals!” He holds his arms up in defence. 

“No, they weren’t. But they were involved with some. It made them suspects. But you…” he looks to you for permission to proceed. You nod stiffly. “You were a tough nut t’ crack. Not even our finest agents could find a damn thing about you and that made you peculiar- an anomaly.” He tilts his head towards you as if congratulating you on a feat. His voice deepens when he says, “we don’t like anomalies,” and you scoff at the tone. 

“So they sent you,” you sneered, failing to mask your appalled tone. 

“There ain’t nothing better than live intel swe-” he stops himself short. He sees the way you start recoiling from him but he keeps going. “It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it had and I truly do apologise for fooling you but we had to know you weren’t a threat.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. Blank pieces start to fill themselves with vivid colours of truth. You were nothing but a pawn on a chessboard being manipulated. Your legs feel weak and you move to sit against the arm of the couch. He follows your movement, turning to you as you walk. There’s a distant look in your eyes and he gives you a moment for the words to sink in. 

“While the night we met may have been a setup-” he takes a hesitant step towards you and your eyes snap up to meet his, “my feelings for you were not.” You narrow your eyes at him and he stops pacing. He observes the subtle clenching of your jaw and he decides to crack open the box that he’d buried a long time ago. He needs you to see there’s a real bleeding heart beneath the facade he’d been forced to weave for you.

“I lost someone very dear to me once, a long time ago.” His gaze dances between you and the objects in the room. “I never thought I’d find someone after her. But then you-“ He stops short. Sighs. Worries his lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking. This all seems so far-fetched now. 

“You were never meant to get caught in the crossfire of all this.” His voice is but a whisper, like he was speaking a sacred confession. There’s a new note to his voice as his eyes flit back and forth between your own, as though studying them for any kind of reaction he could get. “I love you.” 

The room falls silent. Jack swears he can hear the distant ticking on a clock from deeper within your home. His heart hammers in his chest, the resonant beating echoes into his ears.

Finally, you smile. “You wanna know something?” There’s a sinister tone lacing your voice and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I never thought that a lie could sound so sweet,” you chuckle lowly, “until you opened your mouth and said you loved me.”

Jack feels his stomach lurch in response to your words. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He supposes he’ll never know.

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67  @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin  @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass​ @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @apunkpascal​

[eldritch-elrics]

i rewatched the entire ice age series and i have opinions

after rewatching some of the madagascar movies, me and @calocybe​ decided to embark on a quest to watch more animated series from our childhood. an obvious choice was ice age! so, i present to you: finn’s comprehensive ice age opinions masterpost.

read on for an in-depth review of each movie, my opinions on what the series does well (good animation, really fun chase scenes) and what it does not so well (manny is an awful protagonist), and some other things too (like my analysis of queerness in ice age)

first of all, a ranking of the five movies from best to worst:

ice age

dawn of the dinosaurs

collision course

the meltdown

continental drift

first movie

definitely the best

accidental baby acquisition…

it’s just a really good premise. three bros with completely different personalities are forced to work together towards a common goal that doesn’t even benefit any of them personally!

it’s silly and charming and well-written

diego’s arc is especially well-done and it’s easy to follow the way his personality and opinions change

my theory is that they made this movie because they wanted to show off how good they were at animating ice. most of the models and stuff are not very realistically rendered but the ice is honestly pretty impressive

honestly hilarious, has really good visual gags

one of my favorite parts is where they go into the ice cave and find like the ufo and stuff

also the baby does the vulcan hand sign at the ufo which was so subtle and REALLY funny

the ice slide scene. incredible

and then it transitions to the cave painting part with a fantastic depiction of manny’s backstory in a way that’s honestly heart-wrenching??

i wonder if the death of his own family is the cause of his annoying clinginess in later movies, especially with regards to peaches. unfortunately this never comes up again

there are some genuinely emotionally affecting moments in this movie, especially with the humans (when the human woman gives away her baby, when they return the baby to the group) - plus, kudos for conveying all that emotion with no dialogue

this is the only movie where manny’s emotional stuntedness is actually somewhat endearing rather than aggravating

this is also the movie with the most interesting villains - they feel like an especially relevant threat to the protags, and putting diego in with manny and sid creates both good tension and good humor

i wonder why the humans never came back. i think subsequent movies could have benefited from their presence, though i have no idea in what ways. not sure how they would’ve pulled it off but having the baby they rescued in the first movie appear as an adult in a later movie is a plot point that i think would have had the potential to be really powerful

second movie (the meltdown)

pretty underwhelming after the first movie

plot feels disjointed and the climax is weak

i feel like they were trying to go for this sort of found family vs nuclear family / reproductive futurism bent but didn’t entirely succeed and instead made the themes feel muddled. especially after the first movie which was all about rejecting heteronormative standards of family, having manny suddenly go “oop i’m the last mammoth better Reproduce” was a bit jarring

even if he isn’t actually the last mammoth, it feels like the wrong way to start a romance

in general the romance between ellie and manny isn’t very well-done in my opinion.

manny should’ve apologized for getting so offended when ellie freaked out about the pressure to save their species, but instead ellie apologized for “overreacting” for some reason???

number of biblical parallels: a surprising amount??

you’ve got. sid as a jesus figure to the sloth tribe, the ark saving them from the flood, scrat as moses??

the villains in this one were super boring they were just like… evil fish…

ok i’ve said too many mean things about this movie. to atone let me present this opinion: the scene where the vultures sing a parody of “food, glorious food” from oliver completely unprompted is one of the best moments in the series

also the possum brothers are wonderful

third movie (dawn of the dinosaurs)

this was my favorite as a kid!!

it’s still really good

it doesn’t take itself seriously and that’s wonderful. like… dinosaurs? in the ice age? objectively stupid plot. who cares

buck is the best character ever he’s so much fun

buck’s entire thing is also being a VERY cliche kooky adventurer but the way that they play with it and are self-aware about it makes it good

also i legitimately get chills at the scene where he explains his tragic backstory with rudy

god the romance with the female scrat is SO stupid but at least they’re clearly making fun of romantic tropes here

good team-building shenanigans, like the laughing gas sequence

there’s probably something to be said about the ways that family is portrayed in this movie but sorry i’m too busy looking at the scene where they get swallowed by a giant plant and buck has to like cut its veins like he’s diffusing a bomb

also i do need to mention that the scene where they find the carnage of sid’s attempt at feeding vegetables to the dino babies and buck goes off on his whole silly detective-shtick about what must’ve happened (“leaving broccoli… a vegetable!!!”) was my favorite scene in the series as a kid. it’s so wonderfully absurd!

there are a surprising amount of dick jokes in this movie? and by that i mean like 2 but. it’s really funny rewatching this and going “holy shit”

there’s also a joke about a butterfly dude that i’m pretty sure is a trans joke (“i knew that guy as a caterpillar! yknow, before he came out”) so that was also pretty funny

this movie parallels the first 2 by 1. having sid take care of kids and 2. having a group of creatures who copy all of sid’s wacky movements. i don’t have anything more to say i just think that’s funny

buck and rudy are kismeses send tweet

fourth movie (continental drift)

yeah okay this one’s the worst

it takes itself too seriously and that is its downfall

feels tonally off from the other ones

i saw this movie during the height of my hyperfixation on plate tectonics and i remember being very offended at the fact that they made such a mockery of the way it actually worked… :pensive:

(granted, poorly-done science is a cornerstone of ice age, so i can’t really say shit)

anyway this one really felt like a jumble of cliches. the enemies-to-lovers thing with diego! peaches’ teenager problems! manny’s troubles of raising a teenager! all the mean girls! evil pirates! sirens! woooo!

it just didn’t feel all that original and it didn’t play with the tropes like 3 did

what is it in this series with guys not apologizing for their sexism and then getting the girl anyway

also wow. damsels in distress much

sheera’s design is also such a generic “female animal” look

the ape dude was a boring villain and too much of the movie focused on the pirates

okay BUT the sea shanty scene slapped. had some good rhythm and clever lyrics

lewis was good and i’m glad he stayed friends with peaches

the water was well-animated! maybe they made this movie so they could show off how good they were at rendering water

the chipmunk creatures on the island are like knockoff minions/ewoks

in general this movie felt way less funny than the others. less punchy dialogue

fifth movie (collision course)

solidly in the middle of my movie ranking. not as good as 1 or 3, better than 2 and 4

this was my first time seeing this movie! which means that my view of it isn’t colored by nostalgia, and also that i have a lot more to say about it i guess

first of all it’s wild to see how much the animation has progressed… this one was so well-rendered wow

i liked this one a lot more than i expected to! it was a good time, and, like 3, didn’t take itself seriously, which is always great

the whole thing is built off a lot of bullshit science which offends my inner scifi nerd BUT i think they pulled it off quite well

the fact that they got neil degrasse tyson to do voiceovers is just so funny

they’ve firmly established by now that the ice age universe can fully ignore the laws of science when it wants to, especially with regards to scrat and his butterfly-effect influence on the world

okay buckle up because i have a lot to say about scrat actually.

scrat’s ability to influence the universe has been steadily increasing as the series goes on, so it made sense that he would be the catalyst for the apocalypse in this one

and also the catalyst for the creation of the solar system i guess?? which was very stupid. i say that in an endearing way. that beginning scene was super fun & wacky

absolutely brilliant way to bring the ufo from movie 1 back btw

ok so the prophecy tablet thing that buck brings back? he finds it by pressing a button with the outline of an acorn on it and that’s very interesting to me

at that point in the movie i was really invested because i thought that scrat and the protagonists were finally going to be forced to confront each other on the same level. the idea that ice age might finally break its unwritten rule of “the protags can never know scrat as the force of global change that he really is” was legitimately exciting to me, and it seemed appropriate for the last movie in the franchise

unfortunately this did not happen. scrat just keeps doing his silly scrat shenanigans

um anyway let’s talk about some of the other characters!

manny continues to suck. more on this in the “low points as a franchise” section

peaches was actually really good in this one! she’s grown out of her “teenage stereotype” phase and into a character with a believable narrative about growing up and moving out.

her boyfriend is adorable and i was surprised to discover i actually liked their relationship!

sid did not need to be paired off though. neither did diego. what is up with kids’ movies and their shallow heterosexual romances

buck is back and he is fruitier than ever

man i really like buck. he’s so silly and irreverent and flamboyant and it’s like kind of embarrassing to watch sometimes but it’s ok he’s just doing his own thing

the villains were pretty good in this one. i liked how the female dino didn’t have a stereotypically feminine design

on an entirely different topic: let’s talk about the aesthetic direction!

the scifi thing was super fun. like, absolutely wild for a series about the ice age, but whatever. i like scifi

like the whole superpower magnetism shit, especially the scene in the forest? great! especially reminiscent of the climax of the guardians of ga’hoole movie

however the whole dive into the crystal cave environment was a lil tonally dissonant and i think it should have been cut (introduced an entire new world/characters way too late in the plot and didn’t have time to develop them enough, went too far down the rabbit hole of magic healing crystals jokes and all that stuff which didn’t seem to relate to the rest of the story at all, introduced a fun but unnecessary girlfriend for sid, the time could have been better spent making fun of more scifi tropes and developing the villains)

brooke the sloth girl is just miranda from the tempest change my mind also that climax is on a similar level of stupid as that one episode from hoshi no kaabii where they deflect an an entire asteroid using uhhhh cannons i think

but it’s like. whatever. they’ve fucked around with science enough that they deserve this

also i just realized there were no chase scenes in this movie which is so sad??

so there are my thoughts on the individual movies. let’s talk about it as a whole!

high points as a franchise

this series consistently has VERY good chase scenes

just top-tier chase scenes with excellent comedic timing and general pacing

3 is so good because it has a chase as the climax, and that’s what ice age is good at

4 is bad because it doesn’t have a proper chase anywhere!

the animation is really good. by that i mean less like the models are realistic and more that they’re great at conveying emotion and body language through animation

like this is especially true in 1 if you look at the difference between the sort of smooth, not very realistic animation of the humans vs… scrat

like they’ve got the way scrat moves down so well it’s delightful

the movies are, generally, funny

there are good messages about found family, especially in the first couple

low points as a franchise

alright i had a bunch of these written out as universal truths about the series and then 5 actually improved on many of them! so here are some criticisms that apply to the first four movies only:

just… every single female character? they deserve better

too many damsels in distress

all the fat jokes about manny are so unnecessary

the romances are really boring and not very well-written or believable

okay with those out of the way here’s the real biggest issue with the series: manny is an awful protagonist

heterosexual “no fun allowed” man

they keep him sucky so he can have a fresh new character flaw to be worked on in the next movie but that seems like a bad formula for character development, especially how many of his character flaws seem to be related to mistreating the women in his life

the man’s got a major possessiveness issue

he is just the archetypical slightly shitty husband/dad who forgets the anniversary and doesn’t let his daughter see boys and calls women hysterical and yes he does get better at each of the individual problems and he does love his family but that development feels so shallow!

manny is absolutely making AITA posts and getting labeled the asshole

it also feels like he never truly learns from his mistakes. he needs to be learning to apologize properly and most importantly to communicate properly! there’s so little emotional reality to his development and the script always seems to give him the benefit of the doubt when he doesn’t deserve it.

plus, this series is meant for kids and i just don’t think manny is an appropriate or relatable protagonist for that audience?

on a mostly unrelated note, yes i do like the found family themes but when it starts pairing up every single character and implying that all of them are gonna be monogamous het couples and have kids and conform to the nuclear family model. that’s pretty sad

some more random thoughts

my dad once said that ice age fails as a franchise because the premise of the first movie was not strong enough to support sequels. i think i kind of agree - you can see in 2 they’re trying to worldbuild off what little they established in the first movie, and also set up a bigger cast of characters, while still keeping up the “man vs nature” theme that’s such a cornerstone of the series.

i’m not sure they completely succeed. the worldbuilding of ice age isn’t necessarily weak but i do think they could have done more to round out the world and make it feel less like just a prehistoric clone of ours

there’s something about the first movie that makes it feel like a moment suspended in time. we don’t learn very much about the pasts of the characters and they get enough development in one movie that we (or at least i) don’t feel any desperate need to know their futures. it feels complete!

so in all the other movies are working with a set of characters who have ostensibly completed their development. so in each new movie, they need to give the characters more problems. usually this comes from external factors, like new characters. a couple times they do a pretty good job introducing new internal problems for the characters - diego’s quest to get over his fear of water was a pretty good one i thought.

but after a while the main trio just stagnates. diego, once the most compelling character, becomes pretty boring. he doesn’t have anything to do anymore. i’ve already talked about manny - each movie he reverts back into an asshole and it gets old so fast. sid’s a little better; he’s got issues with his family and a desire for a family of his own and all that, but more often than not the conclusions to his arcs are unsatisfying

sid plays the role of the character who’s doomed to never get exactly what he wants, except, like, in a way that’s supposed to be funny. we pity him!

i think he has some archetype parallels with escargon from hoshi no kaabii (why do i keep mentioning hoshi no kaabii) but i am not going into that here oh boy

i feel like i’m juggling a lot in my head right now, but sid’s position as the comedic scapegoat is interesting. i’m sure there’s more to unpack here but i’ve already gone way too deep into this series

there’s also more to unpack when you consider his queercoding hmm

anyway, on that note…

additional thesis: sid the sloth is queer-coded

complicated relationship with family (they hate him and think he’s useless)

lispy voice

cares about “fem” things like children. takes care of kids in both movies 1 and 3. calls himself “mama”

gets pushed into the role of caring for the kid in 1

makes vaguely gay comments at his male friends, like “you have beautiful eyes” to manny

there are literally so many jokes in the first movie like. diego’s “you guys are an odd couple” to manny and sid

that whole part in 4 where he’s trying to kiss the sirens and kisses diego instead and is like “wow romantic”

not interested in the idea of a nuclear/traditional family. see his shenanigans with the dino babies

he is interested in women throughout the series though (bi rights)

5 especially tunes down the queercoding and tunes up the “awkward guy who can’t get girls” angle

so. ice age. is it fun? yes! i definitely enjoyed rewatching the series with my friend. and kids will probably get a kick out of the slapstick and silly dialogue. but if you’re not a kid and looking to (re)watch any of them, i’d probably just stick to the first one.

[bytheangell]

(S3E1 inspired fic) (Read on AO3)

Meliorn stands beside the Seelie Queen, listening intently as she goes over her latest plan. He wonders if she notices the way his eyes widen for just a moment at the mention of Simon Lewis, or the way his grip tightens a little too much around his spear when he hears about his role in placing the Mark of Cain.

“Why me?” Meliorn asks. “Do you not want to do the honors yourself?”

The Queen greets his query with a small, knowing smile. “No. The honor is all yours - unless, of course, you have a problem with performing your duties?”

“I am perfectly capable of bestowing the mark, Your Highness,” Meliorn says, the words carefully crafted to avoid the actual question posed to him.

Because in truth, Meliorn does have a problem - a rather large one, which comes in the form of the feelings he’s developed for Simon.

---

It all started after Simon first came to the Seelie Realm with Jace and Clary - the day Simon learned the true nature of the Queen and her Realm. Unlike Clary, who hadn’t even noticed Simon leave after her kiss with Jace, Meliorn saw the emotions that crossed the vampire’s face. He saw the hurt of betrayal, the disappointment of misplaced trust, the heartbreak… but he also saw the way Simon looked at the Queen and her Knights with a mixture of fear and awe after such a cunning, yet cruel, display of power. Meliorn still to this day doesn’t know why he cared so much - about what Simon thought of him or how Simon felt after being humiliated - but he did.

So, after the Queen dismissed him and he was certain no one would notice his departure, Meliorn went to check in on Simon. Simon was, rightfully, wary of his intentions, but before long the vampire was rambling half his life story out to him, and Meliorn found himself increasingly drawn in by his disarming authenticity.

They met again several times, the visits made easier to arrange by Meliorn’s increasingly frequent trips to the city for Downworlder Council meetings. If he invented a few extra vampire-relation-specific trips as an excuse to go to the Dumort between meetings, well, no one questioned him on it. Talks turned into lingering glances, which turned into touches.

It started as a simple curiosity, then an interest Meliorn never planned to be anything more than casual.

The thing about Simon Lewis is that few things ever go as planned when it comes to him.

Meliorn didn’t realize how far gone he was for Simon until Simon made the deal with the Seelie Queen to free Maia.

“What were you thinking?” Meliorn demanded. He left the Seelie Realm to seek out Simon the first chance he got and found him lingering outside the portal as if waiting for him. Expecting Meliorn to come chasing after him. Had he grown so predictable?

“I didn’t have a choice,” Simon defended.

“You could have left her. You should have left her.” Meliorn knew it was cruel, that it wasn’t who Simon was and it never would be, but he didn’t care.

“No. You know I couldn’t, Mel,” Simon said. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t. You have no idea what you just agreed to. I have no idea! I can protect you from a lot of things, Simon, but I cannot protect you from her.” He hated to admit it, but it was a truth he needed to make perfectly clear, now more than ever.

Meliorn knew he wasn’t angry at Simon for being so selfless, but angry at himself for not being able to do the same. And he was scared: scared for Simon, and for their relationship should the Queen ever find out about it to use as leverage against either - or both - of them. Meliorn tried to imagine what he might do if his hand was forced... if he might actually be capable of standing up to the Queen for Simon’s sake.

It was then that Meliorn realized that the feelings he held for Simon went so much deeper than he thought. The idea of anything happening to Simon made his stomach churn, and he wanted to wrap Simon up and put every bit of protection magic he knew on him to keep him safe forever.

“I love you,” Meliorn said the moment he realized it.

“I love you too,” Simon said back.

And for a little while, that was all that mattered.

--

Until now.

“Has the spear been prepared?”

The Queen knows. Meliorn can hear it in the lilt of her words, he can see it in the mischievous light dancing in her eyes. She knows about him and Simon, and this is a test.

It’s a test Meliorn is about to fail as he watches the fear cross Simon’s expression while he’s restrained and hears the panic in his voice. Simon’s addressing the Queen but his eyes dart behind her to where Meliorn stands, a silent plea for help that Meliorn can’t answer. Meliorn just barely resists the urge to cross the space between them and pull Simon from the guard’s grip to hold and comfort his lover the way he craves to… the way Simon deserves.

“It has, M’lady,” Meliorn says instead, his words cool and clipped behind barely concealed frustration.

He does all that he can to ease Simon’s mind in the moments that follow. Instead of allowing the other Knights to continue to restrain and escort Simon, Meliorn steps forward and takes Simon by the crook of his arm, following two other Knights that lead the escort to the Wander Woods with the Queen trailing behind them.

She’s close enough to hear anything he might try and whisper to Simon, so instead of reassuring him vocally, Meliorn allows his grip on Simon’s arm to loosen. It’s just enough for his fingers to trail back and forth, ever-so-slightly, in a calming pattern. I’ve got you. I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. He can’t speak the words but he tries his best to convey them with every touch and every glance.

“What are you planning on doing to me?” Simon asks again, and Meliorn wants nothing more than to simply tell him. Telling him won’t change what’s about to happen and maybe if he knows, maybe if he understands that in its own twisted way the Mark will keep him safe - that it’ll keep him protected in all the ways Meliorn always wished for (though not like this, never like this) - it might make this easier.

Instead, the Queen keeps him in the dark. Meliorn uses his own magic to wrap the vines around Simon to restrain him, hoping the familiar feel of it can serve as a small comfort. It’s the best he can do at the moment and, he’s painfully aware that his best is lacking. Simon looks to him briefly, then looks back to the Seelie Queen. Simon’s smart. He knows pleading to Meliorn won’t help him now; if there was anything Meliorn could do he would’ve done it already.

What Simon doesn’t know is that no amount of begging can change what’s already in motion and that his fate was sealed before he ever entered the Woods.

“Why are you gonna hurt me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I’m a good guy. I sang you a song about nature!”

Meliorn loathes this. He hates the tremor in Simon’s voice, the wide-eyed look on his face, terrified and helpless. Most of all, he hates that he’s the cause of it. Him, standing there, spear in hand, is the thing causing all of Simon’s distress. Meliorn thinks he might be sick from the guilt of it all but holds himself together.

If refusing in an act of defiance would spare Simon then Meliorn would do it with no hesitation, no matter the cost to himself. But it wouldn’t help. Meliorn needs to do this, because if he doesn’t, if he can’t, then someone else will. Someone less kind. Someone without Simon’s best interests at heart in the process.

As much as Meliorn despises the idea of causing Simon even a second of pain, he wouldn’t dare let anyone else near him with this spear. Being in control of the ceremony is the only way Meliorn can guarantee Simon is as safe as possible and that nothing will go wrong. It’s the only way he knows how to protect him now.

“Do not fret. The hurt will be over before you know it.”

“So this is it? This is the end?”

Something in Meliorn breaks at the resignation in Simon’s voice, realizing that Simon doesn’t just think they’re here to mark him. Simon’s defeated acceptance is for the fact that he believes Meliorn is standing in front of him to kill him. How? How could he think Meliorn capable of that? He loves Simon, and if that were the task set before him then Meliorn would not be standing there with a spear at the ready. How does Simon not know that?

For the first time since this process was put into motion, Meliorn hesitates.

 “Proceed.”

Meliorn flips the spear around so that the mark, red hot and burning, faces Simon now.

“What is that? What are you doing?”

There’s no time left to stall. Meliorn takes the final steps forward and touches the spear to Simon’s forehead.

Simon’s screams echo through the wood.

Meliorn wants to close his eyes against the sight of Simon’s twisted face, to retreat inward to muffle the cries of pain, but he doesn’t. He forces himself to watch, to listen, to be fully present in the agony he’s causing the man he loves. It only takes a few seconds but they feel like days, weeks, months stretching out in front of him as they pass. He wonders if it feels that way for Simon, too.

When it’s over Meliorn looks down as he steps back, unable to meet Simon’s eyes.

Only now does Meliorn allow himself to retreat inward, the conversation between Simon and the Seelie Queen growing muffled in the background of his thoughts.

Meliorn replays the chain of events over and over, trying to find a moment he could’ve done something different. He can’t think of any that wouldn’t end up with him locked away for betrayal, or maybe even killed. He’d done everything he could short of refusing to perform the ceremony. Hadn’t he?

The look of betrayal on Simon’s face as he walked toward him with the brand said otherwise. It’s a look Meliorn only ever saw on Simon’s face once, and one he never intended to have aimed at him. This is everything Meliorn had feared when he warned Simon that he wouldn’t be able to protect him from the Queen. Did Simon expect him to risk both of their lives by trying to flee with him?

...should he have?

The chances of them escaping the Queen indefinitely are practically zero, but there is a chance however slight, so should he have taken it?

No.

Does he wish the Queen had gone about it a different way? Or that he could’ve warned Simon ahead of time, or gotten his consent? Yes. Of course. But Simon was never in any actual danger. The Mark wouldn’t kill him, it wouldn’t even hurt him longer than those few seconds now that it’s in place. He just needs to explain that to Simon, to reassure him that he’d never been in any danger, that Meliorn would never willingly allow him to be.

“Anyone but you would be dead, dead, dead. Only a Daylighter can survive the ceremony.”

Those words bring Meliorn back into the moment because with them the Queen turns and begins to walk back to Court. This time Meliorn hesitates to follow.

“Allow me to escort the Daylighter out,” Meliorn suggests. If he can just talk to Simon, if he can explain, then maybe-

“No thanks,” Simon says before the Queen can answer. “I think I’m good on my own.”

The weight of that statement hangs heavy between them. Meliorn’s throat feels tight.

“Are you certain? The Wander Woods-”

“Then I’ll take one of the other guards as an escort,” Simon says, his voice flat.

Meliorn swallows thickly and nods. “As you wish.”

He can fix this, he knows he can, but first he has to convince Simon that he deserves the chance to. For now, all Meliorn can do is watch Simon leave: hoping that all he needs is a little time and praying that his last interaction with Simon isn’t one of pain and broken trust.

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @that-english-nerd (she/hers)

what are you working on right now? Three things!

My next chapter for my witch!AU where Bellamy is the son of a witch, and Clarke enlists his help to find out what happened to her father and his sister.

And a prompt for @bellarkefic-for-blm  with princess!Clarke and knight!Bellamy. It's a little outside of my comfort zone but I enjoy writing it. I currently have stumbled upon some technical difficulties where I lost everything I wrote for it so now I'm back to square one.

I’m also looking for the next chapter of a Voltron fic I’ve been working on. It’s super silly but it’s ridiculous amounts of fun, I want to write so much for it.

what’s something you’d like to write one day? I think it's been a pipe dream of mine to write a novel that captures the spirit of the YA books I grew up on but that people of all ages can enjoy. I want it to be my ultimate self-indulgent fantasy where I combine all the things I loved as a reader. A fantasy/sci-fi, action, a good satisfying romance, complex emotions.

It's also important to me that the main character is brown-skinned like I am, and that the book discusses different philosophies and cultures without ever saying one is right. Growing up as the child of immigrants, I've always struggled with clashing cultures and it took me a while to learn that neither culture is more right than the other, and that our differences in how we think are what makes being human meaningful. I want something that acknowledges those parts of the human experience without villainizing or glorifying its existence.

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? Honestly? It's this moodboard I made for my Winx Club!AU. I really like how it came out aesthetically speaking, and I'm fond of the story. I do have some things I'd change about the story stemming from the fact I wrote it one sitting but I don't know if I'll ever make the changes. Still. It was a fun piece to write.

why did you first start writing fic? I really, really just wanted to write some more scenes for my favorite couples who I felt were robbed in books. I just wanted to write some cute shit, man. Since then I’ve written for 39 Clues, Maximum Ride, Demashitaa! Powerpuff Girls Z, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Powerpuff Girls, Hush, Hush, Danny Phantom, Giver, Legend of Korra, Jimmy Neutron, Code Lyoko, 100, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Lucifer, and Penryn & the End of Days.

what frustrates you most about fic writing? plot. specifically, non-emotional plot. like what even is that. If the plot is driven by emotional development, it’s still hard to come up with specific structures for moments but like if things need to happen outside of their emotions, oh whee boy do I struggle. For me, emotions tend to naturally evolve from one thing into the next and it’s easy for the characters to lead me where their emotions take them. It’s harder when things need to develop outside of that.

Other than that, motivation is a big roadblock. Struggling with depression, anxiety and my other responsibilities, I can go without touching a piece of writing for months. I feel the itch very often but it’s one that goes unindulged.

what are your top five songs right now? - Experience by Victoria Monét with Kahlid, SG Lewis  - BALI by Rich Brian with Guapdad 100 - Etch by RILEY THE MUSICIAN with Iker - Culver by Mac Wetha

what are your inspirations? Usually pictures or stories! My witch!AU was inspired by an aesthetic picture I saw on tumblr and most of my other stuff has been inspired by other stuff I read. It’s not necessarily specific plot points—though, sometimes some plot threads are too good to give up—but rather the emotional journey the characters go through. Poems and other media also feed the old noggin.

what first attracted you to Bellarke? what attracts you now? It turns out I have a thing for reluctant partners turned lovers. I really liked how the two shouldered responsibilities that no one else really had, and that despite their differences, they had the capacity to understand and empathize with each other when no one else would. It would've been so easy for Bellamy and Clarke to fall into an endless cycle of blaming each other for their decisions. We see it in the other characters, in other TV shows--a constant battle where only one person's philosophy can prevail. But with Bellamy and Clarke, they have always shown empathy and accepted each other. It might not have been right, maybe they themselves would've done something different, but at the end of the day, Bellamy and Clarke try to understand and accept each other for who they are. Present tense. I think that kind of, frankly mature, love is something we don't see in media all too often.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? hmmmm

I do enjoy memori, they make me happy. I also have a soft spot for Raven and Roan. Anything with Wells is gold bc I really want to see how he could've changed the show. Oh, and Minty. This wonderful idea will always be a favorite of mine.

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? I’ve been wanting to do more for a bit because I, personally, avoid social media activism. @bellarkefic-for-blm  is an amazing way to leverage whatever platform I have to incite awareness and action by using my strengths. I can do this really cool thing that I enjoy to help something critically important.

what’s your writing process like (esp for prompts, chopped!, etc)? it’s a hot diggity dog mess. I kind of do whatever I feel like. If I want to write a scene, I’ll write a scene. If I want to write dialogue, I’ll write dialogue. If I want to write an outline, I’ll write an outline. Chronological order is not guaranteed. Because writing tends to be an extremely emotionally exhaustive task for me, it’s easier for me to write more if I let go and follow whatever whims I have so that I don’t compromise my urge to write. My guarantee is that I try to milk the whim for whatever it’s worth. If I start an outline, I’ll finish it. I’ll have music in usually but I’ll pause it often to think about whatever it is I need to say.

what are some things you’d like to recommend? Some bellarke fics that’ll make you chuckle: So put your hands down my pants and I bet you’ll feel nuts by Chash You know you drive me up the wall by coffee_grounders The (Bullet Pointed) Life and Times of Bellamy Blake by crystalkei, dirtytrix

Other than that:

-       Albums: Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle, SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama, Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers -       Musicians: Matt Nathanson, Mat Kearney -       TV Shows: Nikita, Code Lyoko -       Books: Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor

You can find her on here on Tumblr @that-english-nerd, or on her AO3 here. Request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm.

[scnlit]

【 karl urban, cismale, 48 】this just in - august lewis ‘lou’ jones has been in wickway for fifteen years. apparently he is an owner of anglers anonymous and a civilian or so his passport says. so far it’s known that he favors the docks, and resides at west port. he is also said to be empathetic & trustworthy, but also anxious & paranoid at the end of the day, he can be described as weatherworn sails, delicately strung sea glass & never ending paranoia of being watched. 

( tw: alcoholism, emotional abuse, death )

HISTORY

It was always a wonder how August was born with an obsession of large bodies of water. He could never fully explain it, but there was something about them that always drew him in with the utmost fascination. If there any time or way for him to spend his recreational time at a pool, creek or lake - he’d be there knee deep and as happy as can be. Though it was arguably odd, his parents never saw any harm in it and was glad that their son was so fond of being active outside instead of piling on hours upon hours with inside technology.

When August’s mother and him moved out of Wickway and to California ( his father stayed behind to run the family diner ), it only furthered his passion. No one was surprised that he aspired to have a career that had to do with large bodies of water. He had always been a strong swimmer, was a part of the high school swim team, and was certified to scuba diver early on. Everyone in his hometown used to joke about how he was part fish, because of how often he would swim. So it was only fitting that he ended up setting his mind to become a deep sea diver. Soon enough, he landed himself the job of his dreams when he was 18. It was almost outrageous how fast he had accepted a high risk occupation, but nothing could stop him from moving away from home in order to achieve his dreams.

By 23 he was deeply in love and married to a woman he thought he knew to a T. They have a child shortly after, and August strove to be the best father he could be. Granted he wasn’t able to be around as often as he would’ve liked. What with the locations of the long dives. Still, he always tried his best. Even when his marriage grew more and more openly strained. 

The dangers of being a deep sea saturation diver came in several shapes and form, but none of them shook him up enough to make him quit. August was always extremely careful whenever he was on duty, but death’s hands were never far away. He witnessed his fair share of the deceased at random, but what really broke him was the life of his best friend. The two of them had been working on a repair when there was a malfunction with his friend’s respiratory device. In layman’s terms - that terrible instance resulted in his friend’s death, and August had been there to witness the entire drowning. It was an awful, tragic accident that the local news ate up and spat out to every single outlet they could get their hands on. Yet with time, the news of how his friend died fizzed out into the background noise of town life. Yet August couldn’t forget what happened no matter how much time passed.

There was hardly any support from his wife in his period of grief. She had never truly approved of his career choice, and was more than happy when he ended up doing the seemingly impossible. August chose to resign from his position without any prompting, and for the first time in his life - he was completely, and utterly, lost. The surefire ambition he had been born with fell short for years, and the loss of his friend clouded every single one of his decisions. The consumption of alcohol became a vice for him, and it nearly costed him his own life several times. It wasn’t until a hard felt intervention from his parents and son did he start to see the wrongs of his grief filled ways. Little by little, the grief became more bearable and he managed to get back onto his feet with the support of his family, friends, and therapy.

 August quit drinking as a whole when he decided to start his life anew. He finally braved the necessary steps to file for a divorce to separate himself from the toxic relationship. August was then fortunate enough to acquire a psychiatric service dog to aid him in bouts of anxiety, depression, and PTSD. The move back to Wickway had admittedly been a tough choice, but he decided to do so upon the passing of his father. Although the two of them had never been close, August still grieved the loss ( without using alcohol as a vice ). The family’s fishing pro shop was left in his name, and it was up to him to execute the business’ future. Originally he was going to sell it, but the community and staff grew on him. So the shop stayed open, and the well being of his life stabilized as he does his best to give back every day. Even if the Wickway community is plagued with trouble.

MISC. INFO

Hates being called August, and prefers to go by Lou or even Lewis.

There are several rumors about August. Literally anything small or extreme - please feel free to go wild with these assumptions. August is very well aware of what people are saying to him, but he never bothers to clarify details simply because it takes a lot of energy to do so.

He has definitely come by very suspicious things during his years in Wickway. Said things were always reported to the police, and he was probably labeled as suspect a few times. 

Diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Takes medication for anxiety.

Has a psychiatric service dog, Howdy, nicknamed Howes, ( belgian malinois ).

Arguably has the biggest heart for those in need, and will always do whatever he came to help out ( even if it hurts him in the process ).

Ironically enough, has thalassophobia (  fear of deep bodies of water such as the ocean or sea ), and is really sad about it.

Isn’t a regular at AA meetings, but still tries to go once every month or so.

In regards to his ex-wife - she had been constant with emotional manipulation ( especially in regards to him not acting ‘manly enough’ i.e. August is a fairly emotional person and has openly cried ). She had cheated on him a few times, and would always twist the reasoning back onto him. 

Has a fairly okayish relationship with his son. Arguably, he wasn’t around as much as he should’ve been during his son’s youth, but he has / will continue to make up for lost time. 

[braveskyered]

Knights Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Please be aware that there may be some topics from here on out that you as a reader will find uncomfortable. Elaborating what they are in the beginning will be considered spoilers.

Do remember that this story is a work of fiction. Any similarities between characters or events to persons - living or dead - in our real world are purely coincidental.

Only those that have understood and thus agreed to the above have the privilege of continuing to read Knights to the very end with a clear head.

Do you agree?

Yes ←

No

Should you fail, then it would be wise if you hold yourself back and confront what hurts you.

Part 15: Tear Me Upside Down

- - - - - - - -

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

And Arthur knew he deserved it.

It was his arm that did the killing, after all.

He waited a few minutes after the wraith left and phased through the wall of his bedroom. He has to before he could start treating the wounds from the punishment right before. Thankfully, there aren’t any Dead Beats to keep an eye on him, so he has a little freedom. The wraith hasn't bothered to send its little helpers to watch Arthur for the past two weeks, and he made sure not to show his relief, lest it thinks to send them out again.

He assessed his injuries. They're on his shoulders and right arm this time, so it shouldn't be too difficult to tend to...

Grunting somewhat painfully, Arthur pulled himself off the floor somewhat and crawled down next to his bed. His right arm became too sore to move and twist, and Arthur wouldn't be surprised if there's a fracture or two at this point. Not enough for a cast, he thinks, but it hurt more than usual when the wraith's hand roughly grasped it, and thought he felt something crack.

He has no choice but to use his damned prosthetic left arm to pull the medium-sized box out from beneath. The forbidden box, he came to call it, because the wraith didn't like it whenever the box entered its line of sight. Otherwise, it would mean that Arthur hasn't suffered enough in this damned manor. Or worse, take the box and burn it to cinders like it did one time when Arthur first started collecting.

After some struggle, Arthur got himself into a sitting position, took off his shirt, and started to sift through the medical supplies he gradually smuggled in while ignoring the rest of the scars. The burn salve has always been his savior from the worst of it, so he took a somewhat filthy cotton ball and started applying the salve on his shoulders, careful not to let any of it get into his hair when he moved his head.

He must hurry before Vivi or Mystery come home, before the wraith would notice.

It took a while, but soon, Arthur was able to wrap some bandages around his shoulders, although the area around his left shoulder was rather sloppy in its wrapping. It's not like he can ask for help, so he did what he could. He then started to work on his right forearm. He took out the thin arm guard inside to use as a poor makeshift splint for what he hoped isn’t a broken bone, but it’ll have to do.

If anything, he could play it off as a mishap while working on the van. Or pretend he did it himself because he's a so-called masochist or something.

...Yeah, not happening. Arthur rolled his eyes. He never understood how that kink or whatever worked, and he knew no one would believe him if he used that excuse.

He dug into the medicine bottle and took out a few pills. The dose is probably more than what's typically directed for a person to take, but Arthur needed to reduce the pain soon or else there will be problems. Taking a small water bottle from the box, he swallowed the painkillers.

His self-treatment finished, Arthur put his shirt back on and tugged on the long sleeves to hide the wrapping. He placed the medical supplies back into the box and slipped it back under his bed, then quickly yet carefully gathered the few wrappers of the bandages from earlier and stuffed them into an empty potato chip bag. No one here ever bothers to check the trash. Arthur could only feel relieved somewhat as he tosses the chip bag into the nearby wastebasket. The Dead Beats are typically not smart enough to look through them, and the wraith has forbidden them to dig through trash like animals, so it works.

He then checked himself by looking into a small round mirror roughly the size of his palm he keeps on his desk. He could sigh in relief. Good. No one should be able to tell that he has bandages on.

Again.

Arthur isn't sure how much longer he'll be able to take the punishments he's been sentenced to have, but he must hold out for as long as he can. It meant that Vivi would be happy, since she loved Lewis so much, loved the wraith so much. It was like Lewis's death by his hand never even happened.

...If only it were that simple.

He could never see the wraith as a friend.

Lewis would be disgusted.

Arthur gripped at his stomach. It hurt. He hasn’t had a proper meal in two days.

He wondered if he could sneak to the van and eat that energy bar in the glove compartment. Vivi would just think either Mystery ate it or ate it herself and just forgot.

She always is a little scatterbrained like that here and there.

- - - - - - -

“Hey, Mom! Dad! Welcome back!”

Arthur blinked and gave an exasperated but amused smile upon seeing both Gwen and Percy grinning like little children in front of the cars, a funny sight considering that they have oil stains on their arms and faces.

“You should've seen the damage on this one!” Gwen was laughing as she spoke while gesturing to a large black pick-up truck, on one of the work stations, “The owner thought his truck's engine was constantly overheating since it kept giving out light smoke, but it's actually because there was an oil leak at the engine block. When we opened it, there was so much oil cooked on it, it was like removing a brick!”

“And that the tire alert kept turning on because the device itself was malfunctioning. All the tires were at the pressure they were supposed to be,” Percy made no attempt to hide his grin, although he seemed humbler about it, “But thankfully, our grand uncle had the parts needed to fix it.”

These were kids that were actively enjoying themselves. They weren't making fun of the owners, they were having fun just talking about the craziest and sometimes the most mundane problems a car could have. Arthur couldn’t help but feel proud of his little mechanics, especially once he noticed that they’re acknowledging Lance as family. He then saw Elaine walking over to the twins, no doubt to ask them how they’ve been since she and Arthur were gone.

He noticed that Belle is missing. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing. She often liked to blab about many things when she was a child.

“Where’s Aunt Morgan?”

“… to get lunch for us,” Gwen replied. Arthur didn’t hear the first part.

“They should be back in a bit,” Percy nodded along.

Food… does sounds good around this time. Arthur drifted off in his thoughts. He feels he’s forgetting something important. His brow furrowed at the thought, and he didn’t know why he has the feeling in the first place.

“They're active ones, I'll have to say,” Lance suddenly walked up, and to Arthur's surprise, is holding Vivian, “This one here, especially.”

How is Lance holding Vivian? She almost never lets anyone besides her family hold her! ...Then again, Lance is family. The little girl reached out to Arthur, and so he took her out of his uncle’s hold and into his own before sitting down to a nearby chair.

Arthur isn’t sure how to feel when he now knows that Lance is taking the fact that he is married with a family of his own… somewhat well.

“Your aunt-in-law explained everything about your family to me,” Lance glanced away for a moment, no doubt feeling awkward, “I can see why you didn’t want to tell me about them in your letters. But I must ask,” he turned back to Arthur, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you just leave? Why didn’t you at least tell me where you went? You know I would’ve helped you. I would’ve visited you, even.”

Arthur didn’t reply and kept his focus on Vivian, who reached up to grasp at his right shoulder. He somewhat smiled back at her while trying to keep his emotions in check and held his daughter’s hand.

Lance sighed and rubbed a hand against his neck, “Then again, if I’m not mistaken on why you left, I probably would’ve done the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur rose a brow slightly at Lance. Last he checked, his uncle is usually more gung-ho about life, a “move it or lose it” type of guy. Lance often thought that running away from things is a cowardly thing to do, which Arthur very well is and has done. It’s no secret that Arthur is afraid of many things and ran away from just as many horrors.

“I mean, even though they deeply regret it now, I still haven’t forgiven Joe and Lokia for what they said about you. They’ve never been in your shoes when... that happened.”

…If it was just that, Arthur knew he would have forced himself to grin and bear it.

“I really do wish that I was there for you, y’know. For you and your kids,” Lance turned his attention back to Elaine and the twins, who were somewhat debating over a certain part that needed replacing, “I would’ve loved to see them grow up over the years.”

Arthur could barely hold back a grimace so Vivian wouldn’t notice, “So would I.”

“What?

“I always knew you’d want to be there for them, but I couldn’t allow that,” Arthur tried not to tighten his grip on Vivian’s hand, “If I did, everyone here would know. If they knew, so would--”

Whatever anyone here in Tempo would know, so would that damn wraith, the monster that wore Lewis’s face and made his life hell after everything went wrong. The same monster that wanted him to suffer, wanted him dead, wanted everything he has.

Wanted him gone.

“Who else knows I’m here?” He had to know, if only to protect his three children. Vivian leaned closer against him.

“So far, it’s just me, Belle, Nobuhiro, and his wife Jolene. I'd count his mother, Fuyuko, but she's been more forgetful than usual ever since she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years back,” Lance counted them with his fingers, “After we found out where you were, we all agreed to keep quiet about your whereabouts from everyone. I also asked Belle to not say anything to her family since she’s my main assistant despite… things. So as far as I know, no one else but us four know that you’re here. Regarding your children, we knew about Gwen and Percy from that article that led us to you, but we didn’t know about little Vivian here since it didn’t mention her.”

So Vivi and Mystery, and thus the wraith, do not know that he is here. Arthur could only give a slow breath of relief, but he isn’t fully relaxed, “I see.”

It’s only a matter of time until the monsters catch wind of him. Either he remains hidden or he takes his family and runs away again.

The conversation ended at that, and while Arthur took the time to let Vivian play with his hand, he listened to Elaine talking with Gwen and Percy about something. He isn’t sure what, but it sounded a little serious. He thought about joining in the conversation, but ultimately decided against it. It didn’t look like they’re being scolded, so he felt that Elaine is handling it fine.

“Um… Arthur? One more thing I should add. You see, the Yuki—”

The sound of a bell from the entrance door cut off Lance’s words.

“Hey, Lance, we’re back with lunch!”

Arthur glanced in Belle’s direction and saw her with Morgan following, both carrying multiple brown paper bags as the smell of food filled the air. It smells familiar.

Lance apparently kept the policy of closing the shop for an hour for lunch, as Arthur could tell when he saw his uncle place up a sign saying such. He didn’t see any other employee leaving or coming out, so maybe it’s only just Lance and Belle for now? It would make sense, since it’s just before Thanksgiving week, so many people would be out visiting family.

“Arthur, are you coming?”

Looking up, Arthur saw Elaine waiting for him. Before standing up, he gently let Vivian down from his hold, took her hand, and followed his family into Lance’s home.

He feels he has forgotten something.

…

- - - - - - -

YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE THAT, YOU KNOW.

- - - - - - -

…

He coughed.

He gagged as he shoved one his fingers into his throat. He must get it out of his system before it becomes a part of him. Let the toilet take it instead. Let anyone take it! He can’t take it! He can’t have it!

How could I have forgotten?!

He didn't know. No one told him where the food came from. He was only told by Morgan that it was something she knew he would like. He should have known. Morgan wouldn't have – couldn’t have known. Belle is the daughter of chefs that own the restaurant that made the food she brought back with Morgan, so of course she would get something to eat from her family's restaurant! It was in typical paper bags instead of bearing the family logo of a pepper.

Who gave you the right to eat that?

The wraith didn’t like it whenever Arthur ate food from the Pepper Paradiso, or any food in general while in its sight, even when it was Vivi who provided it for him. He could only eat in the few times he was alone, and that was few and far in between. He never dared touch any food from the Pepper Paradiso ever since the wraith had beaten him the first few times he did, especially after one meal it made caused him to vomit.

"What happened?!" Elaine… Mystery?

"I-I don't know! He was fine and all of a sudden he just ran off and--," Belle… Vivi?

The pain was unbearable when that happened, and Arthur could only feel dread and outright betrayal the following day after stumbling across a tiny bottle tucked away into a corner of the counter when the wraith wasn't looking, only focused on Vivi. It wasn’t labeled, but it didn’t take a genius on Arthur’s end to learn what it was.

Arsenic. Tasteless and odorless. Poison.

A lesson.

The wraith would not only hurt him physically and emotionally, but also poison him to keep him in line.

Ever since then, any food from the Mystery Skulls was met with scrutiny. If Arthur found any flaw on the packaging of energy bars, he would refuse to eat it, saying he doesn’t have the appetite even though it would result in painful hunger later. He would only "play it safe" when no one was watching. The multitude of snacks Vivi packed in the van for everyone in the Mystery Skulls to consume, Arthur would gradually sneak one extra for himself when no one was looking. Considering how much both Vivi and Mystery consume, no one, not even the wraith, would notice if he sneaked away one or two more snacks that are mixed up within Vivi's “Mighty Snack Stash” pile.

Arthur felt awful for going so far as to steal food from Vivi, even though she had already offered him to take whatever he needed and whenever he needed it.  Because of the guilt, Arthur would go without food for days at a time, relying only on water or energy drinks, or even on the wildflowers outside of the manor for sustenance. He gradually started losing weight despite his efforts, and he knew with dread that he had to do something before his weight loss became obvious.

Shortly after, Vivi, with the wraith next to her, had asked Arthur that question, for the only thing he has left. He may have wanted to give it at one point, he isn’t too sure, and often questioned it to himself relentlessly since it was wrong for as long as he could remember. In the end, however, the punishments from the wraith and the persecution from everyone else that he had suffered – and would have suffered from had he accepted – made him refuse. The burns he received right after he refused were the proof.

And that question became the final straw.

It's just wrong, wrong, wrong!

Well… it’s pointless now, since he has Elaine, but that might not dissuade them from getting what they want.

When Arthur left Tempo seventeen years ago, he didn't dare pack any food. He couldn't bring any possible poison with him, only opting to get food somewhere where the Mystery Skulls or the wraith or anyone he knew did not have any influence. No one had any justifiable reason to poison a stranger.

Soon, Arthur couldn’t cough up anything else other than a dry heave, and soon scooted away from the toilet. Even though his throat burned, and his hands felt clammy, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He got the food made by Pepper Paradiso out of him before his stomach fully digested it. The wraith won’t try to force him this time, it won’t punish him as harshly.

Or at least, he hoped so.

He knew the lesson already, he was just tricked into eating it this time.

That's all.

“Arthur, my star,” a quiet and shaking voice, “Are you okay?”

Upon hearing a hand gently rub circles onto his back, Arthur looked behind him and saw Elaine kneeling behind him. He gave out a weak whimper before turning away.

“My knight,” Elaine didn’t stop with the rubbing motions, “My knight, please, talk to me. Are you feeling better now, at least?”

His trembling didn’t stop. He sensed Elaine doing some movements, but he couldn't fully focus on what exactly his beloved light is doing. The tears from vomiting blurred his sight.

“Here, do you need this?”

Wiping away a tear, Arthur looked up slightly upon seeing Elaine’s hand enter his line of sight. She’s holding some toilet paper out to him. Slowly, he took it from her and wiped his mouth of any remaining fluids.

“Did the food not agree with you?”

He didn’t dare answer her, not when the others could hear. He didn’t want Lance or Morgan to fly into a rage at Belle. He didn’t want Belle to receive the end of their wrath. He didn’t want his children to become more confused and worried more than they already are. He didn’t want to admit to Elaine that for a brief moment, he thought he had consumed poison, even though the meal Morgan got him was actually one of his favorites from the menu…

“Do you want to go back to the camper for a while?” Elaine gripped at his shoulder.

She caught on. Arthur gave a weak nod, and within moments, he heard Elaine say something to the others waiting outside. He then heard the sound of the toilet flushing, felt her slowly pull him up, had him wash his hands, before finally taking him out of the bathroom. He tried to not give anyone eye contact, especially not to his children.

He felt too ashamed to look at them, especially upon hearing his younger daughter wanting to reach out to him.

"No, Vivian. Daddy just needs some alone time. You can hug him after he's done, okay?"

Gwen, Percy, Vivian… I'm so sorry.

Moment later, Elaine escorted Arthur into the camper and had him sit on the small bed in the back. He heard her lock the door before sitting next to him. With the same tender kindness he always knew, Arthur felt Elaine take his right hand with her left, wrap her right arm behind his back, and leaned close to him. In turn, he wrapped his left arm around her, and held her close. Neither of them said anything, only letting the faint sounds of the desert nature outside to be heard.

And it’s only midday…

A part of him wished it would rain, but because Tempo is a desert town, Arthur knew that there will not be any kind of precipitation to keep the fire away. Rainfall is rare in desert towns, where it can be fairly hot to scorching during the day, and somewhat chilly to downright frigid at night, neither of which would keep the wraith at bay.

Arthur isn’t sure whether Elaine could protect him from the wraith, but their children have higher priority. Unlike him, those children had nothing to do with Lewis dying so long ago; thus bearing no sin. Gwen, Percy, and Vivian deserve to live happy lives, and not be imprisoned by an obsessive wraith that would want to hold them captive like toys to play with like it wanted to do with him. If being taken by the wraith is what it will take for them to be safe, so be—

“We won’t let anyone here hurt you or our family,” Elaine whispered with a tone of finality, “I promised that, as did my mother, as did Aunt Morgan, and as did Nana Niniane. I will make that promise again and again, my star, ever since the day we married.”

Arthur whispered into her ear, “Do you remember your other promise to me?”

Elaine went stiff, “How can I not. You wouldn’t marry me until I did.”

He looked down at his feet, “Elaine, you know that there’s—"

“I won’t let that happen, Arthur,” she held him tighter, “You know that. I refuse to let it happen.”

Arthur could only smile sadly. He knew that it’s only a matter of time until his happiness is taken away. And like him, Elaine didn’t want that happiness to end.

“If by some chance it does, Elaine,” he buried his face against his light’s hair, “The safety of the children comes first. That’s all I ask.”

Elaine gave out a low hum, then pulled away from his hold. Arthur watched her stand up and kneel down to reach into a small cabinet nearby. If Arthur remembered right, that cabinet held the mini-fridge.

“I have a small deli sandwich left from our grocery run on the way down here yesterday. It’s got turkey, lettuce, cheese, and a little bacon in it. Do you think you can stomach it since this isn’t from that Pepper place?”

She held out the sandwich wrapped in plastic in front of him.

Arthur thought about it. They’re in the camper, which is full of protections and wards that prevent any malicious entities from coming in. The food he has in his hands was made somewhere around the Texas and Arkansas border, which is hours away from Tempo. Anyone related to the Peppers or the Yukino family are nowhere near nor could they see him. Sure, there’s Belle, but he made it a point to stay away from her.

It... should be fine. Right?

He nodded, and Elaine removed most of the wrapping before handing the food over to him, which he took and sampled a bite. It didn’t feel like poison, nor did he see or hear any sign of the wraith. He took another bite, and only then did he realize how hungry he was.

“I’m not sure how to feel about this ‘Lewis Pepper’ now,” Elaine sighed, “If he had hurt you so badly back then that you couldn’t even eat in peace—”

Arthur furrowed his brow upon hearing Elaine’s mumbling. He’ll let her assume what she wants. Lewis is dead, after all. The wraith is the one that hurt him. That he knows.

He briefly wondered where Niniane went for her investigation, since he knew that the old woman has a low opinion on people who would vandalize graves, which are meant to be the final resting places of the deceased.

And an even lower opinion of the deceased in question.

- - - - - - -

This can't be right.

The last time he was here, Arthur could easily recall the details of the tombstone that used to be at the very same spot in front of him. It was one that held an engraving of a simple angel holding a cake in one hand and a pepper in another. The words engraved next to the angel was the name of Lewis Pepper, some memoirs that showed that he was a loving son and brother, the numbers that showed that he had only lived a mere twenty-one years, and that his life had been tragically cut short.

But now the tombstone is gone, with only a simple stone slab that held the dead's name and vandalized beyond belief.

Arthur could barely make out the word “disappear” made in faded red spray paint. The hateful words carved against the stone that basically damn the dead with sheer hatred. Arthur thought he recognized one of the kanji, based from the few times Vivi had taken the time to show him the ofuda her grandmother had taught her, and he could only tremble in apprehension.

Arthur isn't sure what to feel when he looked at the crack that was almost split in the middle. It looks too straight for it to be a natural crack.

“It looks like someone stabbed a blade of some sort against this grave,” Elaine muttered incredulously as she kneeled down and traced her finger around the large hole and crack in the middle of the stone slab, “Nana Niniane, this kanji here...”

“The first one can be read as 'hate,'” Niniane said grimly with narrowed eyes, “The other is 'eternity.' Whoever painted that with a stencil has developed quite a hatred against this individual, enough that they wish for this one to suffer even in death until the end of time.”

So why--

“Why would someone do this?!” Arthur gasped; the words barely audible even to himself.

Niniane gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, her arms not leaving their crossed position, speaking nonchalantly, “The hatred runs deep, I guess.”

He didn't understand. Why would someone desecrate Lewis's grave like this? Who would hate him enough to--

“Hm?” Niniane knelt down and looked closer at the engravings, and from what Arthur saw, noticed that something was amiss, “Arthur. I have one question to ask you. All I need is a yes or a no.”

It better not be about--

“This man is the one who hurt you, isn't it?” Elaine suddenly asked, “You said that he was your best friend.”

Lewis isn't--

“But on a case, a demon took control of you, and killed him,” Niniane continued after, “If he saw you in his last moments, he must have thought that you did it on purpose.”

LEWIS ISN’T--

“Rather temperamental, I take it. Either way, it’s obvious that he didn’t get away with it,” Niniane stood up and moved closer to Arthur, gently tracing a somewhat long fingernail around the burn scar around the front of his neck, “Little good it does to you, though.”

Arthur shivered upon feeling Niniane’s motion, which the old woman took as a cue to pull her hand away.

“My apologies,” Niniane turned to Elaine, “Well, it’s for the best that the two of you don’t dawdle here for too long. The hatred from the person who vandalized this, as childish as it is, is not something to be trifled with since this person used a rather awful magic to crack the stone."

"Anything else we should know about?" Elaine asked, "I haven't sensed anything to be wary of so far, but I wanted to ask you."

"Hmm… I have yet to sense anything paranormal in this city, myself," the old woman rubbed her chin in thought, "Now that you've brought it to my attention, I will investigate this matter, and maybe also find out who vandalized this fool’s grave. I will contact you or Morgan once I find any results.”

She gave them a minor curtsy, then walked away

Arthur turned his attention back to Lewis’s grave. A part of him wanted to clean the spray paint off to give Lewis a little dignity after the loss of the original tombstone, but when he knelt down and brushed two fingers against the red, he noticed that it was dry. His chest ached somewhat upon seeing again that only Lewis’s name remained legible. No date of birth, no date of death, not even a little epitaph to describe him. Everything else had either been scratched off or wasn’t engraved in the first place.

No matter what, this meager slab is a lost cause.

He felt a small tug on his shoulder.

“We should head back, my star,” Elaine whispered, “We shouldn’t keep the kids waiting.”

“…Right.”

He turned his back to the pathetic sight and walked back the way he came with his light.

- - - - - - -

Arthur managed to finish the small meal without any further issue, which made him feel both relieved and disgusted at the same time.

“I’m sorry you had to see me in such a state, Elaine.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t want to come back here, after all,” Elaine took the sandwich wrapping from him and tossed it into a small trash can, then sat down next to him again, “If not for the fact that you said you trust your uncle, I wouldn’t have tried to convince you to come here in the first place."

Arthur looked down at his left hand, then slowly clenched it into a loose fist. Everything went wrong because of this arm, and that even now, he is so weak.

"If anything, I'm just more worried about how the kids are handling this," Elaine sighed, "They need to have their little 'exercise' soon. Do you know of any places they should stay away from?"

To Arthur, he wanted his children, his precious reasons to live, to stay away from his past home, stay away from his past acquaintances, stay away from the past monsters. Stay away from Tempo. Away from everything Arthur once knew, so they wouldn’t be poisoned, or beaten, or broken, or trapped like mice in a cage…!

But if there are some places to stay away from at the very least…

He stood up, " Elaine, I need to apologize for ruining… you know.”

She looked up at him, “Do you want me to go instead?”

Arthur didn’t answer.

A knock was heard, which made Arthur’s legs feel weak and sat back down on the bed. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Someone’s behind the door leading outside the camper. Why did he have to feel such fear? If he opened that door, he could get hurt again.

But then he remembered that his children are out there.

Before he made a move, Elaine stood up to answer whoever was outside. Arthur saw her raise a finger up to her lips to the guest he couldn’t see, then watched her step outside and close the door behind her, leaving him in the safety of the camper’s protections. He closed his eyes in despair at the thought of his life with Elaine and the kids ending. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to live. He wanted to see his children grow up. He wanted to protect them, but he couldn’t because he’s so weak.

…Am I really that weak?

He opened his eyes and clutched at the moon pin near his heart in a dark realization.

I… I am weak. I know how weak I am. I know I don’t stand a chance against the monsters and demons.

He gritted his teeth.

But if I remain here, Gwen, Percy, and Vivian won’t be safe from them.

Arthur shook his head furiously before standing up, all traces of fear leaving him. If it were just him, he would keep cowering in the safety of wherever he could hide. But ever since he became a father, he couldn’t hide anymore. His past eventually found him after all.

Elaine can only do so much. I promised her that I would do whatever I can to ensure their futures.

Taking a deep breath, he walked to the exist of the camper to see Elaine talking to Gwen and Percy through the window. Arthur briefly wondered where Vivian is, but that question was quickly answered when he opened the camper door to step out when he saw his youngest child clinging to her brother’s leg. All four of them turned their attention to them, the children all showing concern, but none of them dared to speak out.

“Hey, guys. Sorry about earlier,” Arthur tried to keep his words steady as he breathed out a smile, “I hope I didn’t scare you that badly.”

That got Gwen to start. Arthur watched his eldest daughter out her hands against her hips and lean towards his direction, “Of course you scared us, Daddy! We were worried!”

Arthur could only smile as he brushed a hand against Gwen’s hair, “Your mother told me that the three of you need to go out and let loose with your power for a while.” Upon seeing that he has the attention of his family, he continued, “As I’ve told you before we left home, this place is known to have paranormal elements, so whatever you guys do, please be careful.”

The twins and Elaine looked at each other with uncertainty.

“Dad, about this place. So far, our grand uncle has been amazing to hang out with, but…” Percy began to ask uneasily, “Why did you leave? What made you leave?”

“Percy!” Elaine scolded.

It was an inevitable topic, and Arthur knew it as he let out a breath with a half-smile without one feeling of happiness.

The true reason he left Tempo.

Contrary to what most would think, it wasn’t because of the wraith hurting him. Arthur could endure those, or at least as much as he could until his body gave out and he would die. The punishments were something he knew he deserved, but it wasn’t the reason he ran away.

How can he tell them, children that are twins just barely in their teens and a little girl, the true cause of his misery? His heart began to ache painfully at the thought.

Arthur smiled at them while trying to hide the emotions threatening to spill.

"Stay away from the southern area."

"What?"

"Stay away from the outskirts south of here that lead to a dark forest, and you should be fine," he moved closer to the twins, and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, "However, if you come across any threat, especially if you encounter a kitsune, or a flaming wraith,” he took a breath to hammer the warning into them, “You are to run away as fast as you can and return to the camper. Do you understand? Do whatever it takes to get away."

Gwen tilted her head in confusion, "Why those specif--"

"There's a possibility that those two monsters are still in that area. Stay out of their territory, and you should be fine. Do you understand?" Arthur tightened his grip to make sure that there isn't any room for discussion.

The twins glanced at his hands on their shoulders, then at each other, before finally nodding at him.

"Good," Arthur gave a smile of relief and released his son and daughter from his hold, "Remember all the lessons your mother taught you, and Vivian?"

"Daddy?"

"No poofing away from Gwen and Percy unless they tell you to," he knelt down and playfully tapped a finger against his youngest daughter’s nose, “You need to do your part to help your big brother and sister, too. Okay, Vivian?”

 “Yes!” Vivian laughed and hugged him, which he returned.

Once the preparations were made, in which Gwen and Percy quickly packed a few water bottles, some charms, and their phones from the camper, Arthur and Elaine watched the twins start to leave.

“Wait.”

The children stopped to look at their father.

“There’s one last thing I need to tell you,” Arthur took Gwen and Percy’s hands, and watched with a hint of amusement at Vivian’s attempt at joining in, “No matter what, stay away from the Pepper Paradiso.”

“The restaurant of Ms. Belle’s family?” Percy furrowed his brow, no doubt confused, “But their food is good?”

Arthur nodded, “I doubt her parents will do anything since Lance said they don’t know about you three, but please, stay away from the restaurant itself. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. Okay?”

The twins looked at each other, no doubt wanting to know more, but they soon nodded. Arthur made sure to embrace his three children a moment longer than usual, then he released them from his hold. Watching the twins run off north with Vivian flying after them.

Arthur reached out for his children upon seeing them disappear from his sight, a part of him wanting to chase after them, but he curled his hand into a loose fist and lowered his arm. Upon feeling a hand take his fist, he looked over at Elaine, who smiled at him.

“They’ll be fine, my star,” Elaine said gently with confidence, “I made sure they can take care of themselves. I even went through the trouble of making those protection charms for them.”

Arthur wasn't convinced, but he chose to believe in her and their children, "Okay."

"…I know you don't want the kids to get involved in this, so I waited until after they left,” Elaine said with an unsure expression, “I have to meet with Mr. Yukino soon. He specifically requested that I bring you with me. Of course, I told him that you're free to decline, but he insisted that I ask you.”

"Oh…” Arthur felt fortunate that Elaine is so thoughtful about his feelings, "Did he say why he wanted me?"

"He only said there was someone he wanted you to see. He didn't say who, though."

Arthur really didn't want to see Vivi, or her family for that matter. The wraith hated it whenever he spoke to them, even when they were the ones that came to him for something. He didn’t want to see Mystery, either. For all he knows, the kitsune that remained with the Yukino family might still want to hurt him because of the demon’s influence, or some other reason that’s beyond his understanding.

But above all else, seeing Vivi is out of the question. Back then, Arthur had refused to give her what she had asked from him. Arthur may have wanted to hand it over at one point, but after learning the truth of what happened in the cave that resulted in Lewis’s death, combined with the hatred and punishments he suffered through, he left Tempo.

And now, years later, Vivi will never get it.

He looked down at Elaine’s hand still holding his. Slowly, he moved his other hand to put over hers, “Okay. I’ll meet him. But only on the condition that it’s only him. If the person he wants me to meet is who I think it is, I will leave immediately and let you finish the job he hired you for.”

Arthur could tell that Elaine wanted to know more, but he saw her nod in response.

“Before we go, we should probably head back to Lance to let him know you’re okay. I know he’s worried. I’ll also apologize to Belle for what happened in your place, because I know talking to her is one of… your triggers, so to speak.”

Arthur didn’t say a word in response.

- - - - - - -

Thankfully, Lance has a car as a spare vehicle whenever his truck needed repair, so he had no issue lending it to Elaine and Arthur to use for the time being. Elaine made sure to lace the interior with stringed protective charms that could be removed later for Arthur’s peace of mind.

As Elaine drove through the town, Arthur watched the surroundings while in the passenger seat. Although he didn’t find it surprising that Tempo almost looked the same ever since he left seventeen years ago, he saw that the town did change in a few areas while he was away.

The small shopping strip that was in the middle of the town has expanded a bit, judging from the four – or was it five? He couldn’t tell - stores that were built on what were previously empty fields. The old shambling movie theater that was said to be haunted years ago had been demolished with a new one in its place, although it’s still under the same name. Another gas station was added on the same road as that small convenience store, too.

Arthur isn’t sure how to feel about these changes and more.

“You okay, my knight?” Elaine asked once they reached a red light.

“I’m fine,” Arthur smiled at her, “It’s just… It’s been so long, you know?”

Unlike Cantabile, Tempo has not been his home for the past seventeen years ever since he had cut all ties to this small town. It’s been so long that he doesn’t even recognize it as his old home even though Lance and everyone else remained.

Once the light turned green, Elaine kept driving, her attention focused on the road while listening to the directions of the GPS that was preinstalled in the vehicle. Upon passing a certain building, Arthur did a double take as he and Elaine drove past it.

“What’s up, Arthur?”

“…Nothing important. Let’s just get this thing with Mr. Yukino over with.”

Elaine shrugged and let the matter drop, much to Arthur’s relief. Meanwhile, conflicting thoughts kept swirling through his mind upon seeing the sight he just witnessed. The Pepper Paradiso shouldn’t look so… run down.

Well, it’s nothing for him to be concerned about.

…Right?

- - - - - - -

“Is this the place?”

“The address matches the one on the mailbox, so it has to be.”

“But haven’t you been in the Yukino residence before?”

“Yes, but it’s not the same house from before I left, so they must have moved while I was gone.”

“I see.”

Instead of a two-story house from what Arthur remembered, the house he and Elaine have driven up the driveway to is only an old yet modest ranch style home, which is a bit of a far cry from the elder Yukino’s taste. On the front porch were a few paper lanterns left hanging by the front doors, and just outside the sidewalk is a small Japanese rock garden with a tall stone lantern close to the middle (a “tōrō” if memory serves him right).

Other than the lanterns and the garden, there isn’t anything to indicate that Vivi might be living there. From what Arthur can recall, Vivi is the type of woman that would leave the pumpkins or other Halloween decorations well after the holiday itself for Thanksgiving.

“Halloween and Thanksgiving both use pumpkins! This is recycling!” …Or something like that, Arthur recalled while imagining it in Vivi’s voice and everything. As a result, he sincerely hoped that Vivi isn’t in the house, or anywhere really. It would just mean that the wraith or Mystery would be nearby.

He couldn’t bring himself to be hurt by them. Not again.

Elaine pulled herself out of the car and started to make her way to the front door of the Yukino family residence, while Arthur waited in the car. It was agreed between the two of them that Elaine is to be the one that would meet with them first, and then decide from there at whether or not Arthur should come out. He watched his beloved light press the doorbell, and within moments an older blonde woman in yellow answered.

Vivi’s mother, Jolene Yukino.

Arthur watched Elaine and Mrs. Yukino talk, and soon after Mr. Yukino quickly came outside, looking out of breath. A chill went up Arthur’s spine once he made eye contact with Vivi’s father, but instead of anger like he expected, Mr. Yukino instead looked… relieved?

Elaine exchanged a few more words to them with a stern expression, and upon seeing them nod to her, turned to Arthur and made the gesture to come to her.

It’s safe.

After trying to steady himself with a few deep breaths, Arthur stepped out of the car to approach the three, only focusing his attention to Elaine the entire time.

“Arthur, you really came,” Mr. Yukino gave a relieved chuckle, “You have no idea how much this means to us.”

“What do you want?” Arthur struggled to keep his voice steady as he held Elaine’s hand. Even now, he still can’t bring himself to look at Vivi’s parents. Not after what he did.

“A-ano… I mean, ah…”

“If it’s about your daughter, I’m not interested,” Arthur furrowed his brow, still focusing on his hold with Elaine, “I know that—”

“No, it’s not Vivi. She’s not even here,” Mr. Yukino glanced at the front door before turning his attention back to him, “It’s my mother I need you to see.”

That caught Arthur’s attention. From the few times he remembered interacting with Grandma Yukino, all Arthur can recall is her speaking at low volumes in Japanese with a rather condescending tone with some broken English (or Engrish?) mixed in whenever he entered their previous home for whatever reason, from picking up Vivi or dropping her off, and would sometimes give him handmade ofuda for some reason. She also did the same thing to Lewis and may or may not have approved of Vivi’s relationship with her late boyfriend when he was alive. Arthur didn’t even need to get started about Grandma Yukino’s attitude towards Mystery. She never trusted “that yako mutt,” or however she says it, before and after the cave incident.

In short, Mr. Yukino’s mother, the old and cranky Fuyuko Yukino, isn’t someone Arthur interacted with unless he absolutely needed to. So why did she want to see him now, of all times? Last he remembered, he didn’t have any sort of connection to her whatsoever besides the one through her granddaughter.

“I know I’m asking a lot from you, but we really do need your help,” Mr. Yukino started to look desperate, “Did Lance explain anything to you?”

Arthur rose a brow as he tried to recall Lance’s words

“Um… Arthur? One more thing I should add. You see, the Yuki—”

The sound of a bell from the entrance door cut off Lance’s words.

“Hey, Lance, we’re back with lunch!”

That might have been it, but he knew better than to blame Belle Pepper for interrupting. There’s a possibility that she didn’t know.

“No, he didn’t have the chance.”

“Oh, well, how should I put this?”

Mrs. Yukino held a hand over her husband’s shoulder in concern, but Mr. Yukino took a deep breath before explaining, “Ever since you left, Arthur, nothing has ever been the same.”

…What?

“The truth is, in the few times I saw you after… well, the truck incident, I couldn’t help but notice your condition. At first, I thought it was because it you were still recovering from your injuries, but as weeks passed, I noticed you weren’t getting any better, if not actually getting worse. When I heard from Lance that you left for a solo vacation, I thought that you were finally starting to. But then…”

Mr. Yukino looked pained, his wife trying to comfort him as silently as she could as he kept talking.

“When you hadn’t returned, things fell apart, one by one. I often blamed myself for not saying anything sooner, especially once we all found out what happened!”

Both Arthur and Elaine took a step back at the sudden outburst. The latter giving the former the look that they will leave if they have to.

“And the Peppers—"

“Hiro, darling,” Mrs. Yukino finally spoke, her voice quiet, “We don’t want to scare him off.”

“R-Right, sorry,” Mr. Yukino straightened his posture, “I’m sorry, Arthur, but it’ll be easier if I just take you to Kaa-sa-- er, Mother. Maybe then all this misery would stop.”

Arthur and Elaine glanced at each other, the latter curious, the former confused. The same question going through both their minds: What exactly happened after Arthur left for good?

Reluctantly, Arthur followed the Yukino couple inside their home with Elaine by his side.

You aren’t to step foot in here.

Arthur made the move to leave immediately, but Elaine pulled him back and gave him a hard nod, tightening her grip at his hand.

“I won’t let anything happen,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible, “You’re with me.”

What gave you the right to ignore your boundaries?

“That person isn’t here, Arthur,” Mr. Yukino suddenly spoke, not looking at him, “I’m inviting you in here. If anyone complains, they can take it up with me.”

Elaine rose a brow at Arthur, and he shook his head. Not now. Please. She nodded, and finally, Arthur stepped inside with her.

The interior is what Arthur somewhat expected it to be. Various paintings and decorations of Japanese origin were laid out throughout the house, and from what he could see, were items from their previous home. Tucked into a corner in the living room, Arthur spotted a small shrine, likes the ones that are used to honor deceased family members.

But the picture on the shrine wasn’t Grandma Yukino, it was a tall and somewhat muscular man of American or English origin that appeared to be in his late forties. The man’s features, dark blue, almost black hair that partially obscured his dark colored eyes, and a bright grin with slightly crooked teeth, didn’t look like they stand out much, but…

“Who is this?” Elaine asked the question, “A family member?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Yukino sadly nodded, “He was our son-in-law, our daughter’s husband. He died in an incident at work on Monday, October 13th just last month, so we’re still on our forty-nine days of mourning.”

This man was Vivi’s husband? So whatever happened to Vivi? Was her son from this man? If so, then whatever happened to her relationship with--

Arthur and Elaine looked at each other, both suddenly realizing the implication of the death date Mrs. Yukino mentioned. While they were happily celebrating the birthday of their three children, the Yukino family had a death in the family. It wasn’t something they could control, but it did leave a sour taste in their mouths.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Elaine bowed down her head slightly.

Neither the husband or wife said anything and made a gesture to keep following them. Soon, the four of them reach a small bedroom, and when Mr. Yukino knocked on the door, the one who answered wasn’t Grandma Yukino, but a little boy.

The boy looked young, not even ten years old. Blue hair in a shade Arthur knew all too well shaped the child’s round face, wearing a sweater of a similar shade, dark blue pants, and a familiar blue scarf.

“Jason,” Mr. Yukino knelt down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Some guests and I need to talk to Baa-chan for a while. How about you go play in the living room with Grandma in the meantime?”

“O-Okay,” the boy looked up at Arthur nervously for a moment, then took Mrs. Yukino’s hand and left the area.

Arthur noticed that Jason looks so much like his mother, Vivi. Did that child not take any traits from his father?

Whatever happened to--?

“Kaa-sama?” Mr. Yukino gently called out to the person in the bedroom from the hallway outside, “I’ve brought some guests.”

Upon being led inside, Arthur immediately spotted a small old woman sitting in a wheelchair next to the window. Her white hair with vague shades of blue, long at the sides and short on the back, were bound together. A white shawl with blue trim is wrapped around her shoulders, a dark blue blanket tucked against her legs. The woman’s face and general appearance gave the impression that she is withering away, little by little, enough to where her eyes appear to be always closed. The violet-colored glasses she always wore even before Arthur left didn’t make her look any younger.

From what Arthur could recall, Grandma Yukino was someone in her mid-seventies, if not in her early eighties from before he left. Wouldn’t that mean that’s she’s somewhere in her nineties, if not already one hundred years old by now?

“Kaa-sama?”

The old woman didn’t make a response, only staring out into space.

“Arthur, will you greet her? Just talk to her for a bit, she probably still remembers you. I hope.”

He glanced at Elaine, and while she looked unsure, she nodded. Slowly, Arthur and Elaine approached Grandma Yukino so as not to startle her. Then he started to speak, “…Yukino-sa--…?!”

A thin, bony hand quickly grabbed his wrist. It took every bit of restraint Arthur had to not jump away, and Elaine held his shoulders in an attempt to keep him calm.

“Ā… Āaaaa… sssssā…! Āsā…!”

Grandma Yukino’s eyes were wide open, looking at Arthur in shock.

“Āsā… You… safe,” she shook her head in disbelief and mumbled something in Japanese.

"Kaa-sama," Mr. Yukino said something to his mother in Japanese with a pleading tone. In response, Granny Yukino released Arthur from her grasp and spat out some angry words at her son.

While Arthur didn’t know Japanese very well, he could make out the words “onryō,” "yako," “kitsune,” “yōkai,” “yūrei,” and his own name a few times as she gestured furiously at the window and Arthur. Then Mr. Yukino started arguing back in Japanese.

As soon as she said “ruisu,” Arthur gritted his teeth in apprehension.

From the way Grandma Yukino is talking, she’s insulting Lewis from beyond his grave.

Arthur glanced down at Elaine, and he saw that she has her eyes wide and brow furrowed in disbelief at the sight of the elderly mother and son arguing. Before he could ask her what’s wrong, Elaine took something out of her back pocket and slipped what felt like paper into Arthur’s right hand, then held his hand like they always did to keep the object between them.

"--told you time and again that onryō is no good! You should've let me exorcise it long ago, and now we have to do it before it finds out Arthur is here and harm the little ones again!"

"Mother, we can't do that! We promised Vivi that we would try to fix--"

"That onryō already sapped the life out of Cayenne's--"

"MOTHER!" Mr. Yukino cut her off, looking offended, "You know that's impossible! It was only misfortune that happened! You already sealed Lewis long ago down at--"

"Don’t talk back to me, Nobuhiro! I told Vivi that we should have eliminated that damned onryō long ago. Everything has gone to hell ever since that thing manifested! Even more so after you and those Peppers drove Arthur away!"

Arthur started trembling as a feeling of apprehension went up his spine. Once he took a moment to process Grandma Yukino's words, a horrible thought entered his train of thought and...

Did I make a mistake?

Mr. Yukino sighed roughly, then turned to Arthur and Elaine, "I'm really sorry about all this, you two. I need to convince my mother, so you should wait outside. Could you tell my wife that I’m sorry if Jason gets scared?”

Elaine agreed, and soon, Arthur followed her out of Grandma Yukino’s room.

Another argument in Japanese sprang up once they left. After seeing that the living room is empty, they checked the door that led to the backyard and reached a small wooden deck. They finally found Mrs. Yukino sitting on a patio sofa with a cellphone in hand, speaking to whoever it is on the other line. Next to her is Jason, who is busy reading what looked like a children’s book. It doesn’t take much to figure out that they came outside so they wouldn’t hear Mr. Yukino and Grandma Yukino arguing.

When Arthur and Elaine approached, Mrs. Yukino’s eyes widened upon noticing the two of them and spoke a few hushed words to Jason before handing the phone to him. The young boy started to talk excitedly.

“Mom, when will you be coming home?”

Immediately, Arthur realized who Jason is talking to with dread.

Vivi is…!

Mrs. Yukino stood up to speak to them, “My daughter called while you were inside. I didn’t tell her that you’re here, Arthur, but I want to let you know that she’s on her way back from a job in Oklahoma. She’s really looking forward to seeing her son, since she’s been away for over two weeks. She said she’ll be home at around dinner time.”

“What was she doing?” Elaine rose a brow. Arthur glanced at her nervously.

“She is still in the paranormal business as the Mystery Skulls, even though the group itself has all but disbanded after Arthur left,” Mrs. Yukino sighed, “Ever since we realized what Lewis had done, Vivi had… well…”

A searing heat crawled into the beck of Arthur’s neck, “…What happened?”

“Vivi and Mystery have been mercilessly hunting and exorcising anything related to the paranormal left and right. No matter how much of a nuisance they are, malicious beings causing trouble to harmless spirits peacefully inhabiting somewhere, Vivi just eliminates them. She doesn’t take any chances anymore, saying that she doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to you. In other words…”

He could only hope that Vivi doesn’t run into his children.

“Ever since you left, Vivi snapped.”

 - - - - - -

Y'all about to learn a lesson,

It’s coming straight from the top!

Part 16: 555

[coldtomyflash]

Goldfaced Rewrite

Not quite a coda since this branches off partway through Goldfaced (5x13). It plays with the canon timelines somewhat, but keeps mostly to canon while having some fun with it. Technically canon relationships, but written with some coldflash and coldwestallen overtones.

“Sam,” Snart popped the syllable with a droll little smirk. “Always so good to see you.”

“Goldface? The Goldface? He’s got personal hands on the field generator?”

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

Barry sighed and dragged his hand down his mouth. “Okay. Okay, let’s just get this over with. Do we have an in?”

“I sweet-talked our way. C’mon.”

He followed Ralph though the booths and crates of weapons, trying not to look too long. He was still thinking about the cop-killer weapons, thinking about Joe being too-often on the front lines. At least it made the scowl on his face real enough; no one was glancing his way too long.

Ralph led him through to a room where music was playing. The lighting and decor shifted, warmer tones, and people were lounging. The market turned social here. It was obvious it was where the ‘real’ business was done. 

He didn’t look too long. He couldn’t wait to get out of here.

“Welcome welcome.”

Goldface was charming, well-spoken. He knew what he had in his possession, cutting Ralph off and looking to Barry. Barry looked away. Better to let Ralph do the talking, especially when he was still as mad as he was. His gaze shifted to the left, and he had to work fast to cover the surprise and confusion on his face that he knew was painting it.

It was Snart. 

The man was sipping a drink at the bar a few seats down from where Goldface had been, eyes on Barry, curious looking as ever. He cocked an eyebrow at Barry. Barry shook his head imperceptibly.

He barely noticed what else Ralph and Goldface were saying till the criminal’s voice raised fast and angry,

“Shut your mouth!”

Shit. Barry’s heartrate shot up, and stayed that way as Goldface threatened Ralph, more specifically threatened to blow off his arm. The metacuff on Barry’s own wrist tingled, mostly in his imagination. He didn’t dare swallow. 

“See here’s the thing... scum recognizes scum. I’m scum, and I’ve survived this long by recognizing the same.” 

Barry could already see where this was going. His eyes flitted over to Snart again, already too reminded of the last time he’d tried to pull off the criminal routine, how Lewis Snart hadn’t bought it for a second. Snart was standing now, head tilted, jaw set and alert.

Goldface finishing calling Ralph scum and cycled over to Barry, finally addressing him.

“So, the question is... who are you?”

Ralph tried to vouch for him. Barry raised his hand to shut him up, eyes on Snart. He nodded this time, just as imperceptibly. He saw Snart’s eyes narrow. There was a gun pressed to Barry’s neck and he did swallow this time.

“I’m only gonna ask once more : Who. Are. You.”

“Draycon. That’s how I got my start. You can ask Snart,” he nodded at the man, who quirked an eyebrow. 

“Sam,” Snart popped the syllable with a droll little smirk. “Always so good to see you.”

Goldface’s attention shifted between them. “What is it that you do, Sam?” 

“Khandaq diamond job. Central City Diamond Reserve. I moved up from there - hit ARGUS a year after that, alien tech. Recently? Central City Museum heist - atomized lorazepam, knocked the guards out, in and out. The Museum’s one of Snart’s favorite targets, missed having him along on that job.”

“That so?” Goldface’s eyes were narrowed now, laser focused on holding Barry’s gaze. Looking for chinks in his armour? 

“It is,” Snart cut in. “Didn’t invite me in on the Federal Reserve one last month either.”

“The Acid bomb?” Barry retorted. “Didn’t think it was your style.”

“That was you?” Goldface asked. They definitely had him now.

“It was.” Barry’s voice dropped a little lower, “and if you haven’t heard of me, it’s because I’m a ghost. I keep my name out of jobs and pick who I work with. I use chemistry to keep the pigs off my bag. Even the Heights couldn’t hold me long. Doesn’t tend to when you know a bit of science and meta or two who owes you a favor.”

"Thought you and Shawna weren’t talking to one another?” Snart took a few strolled steps over, joining their little circle finally.

“She owed me one,” Barry picked up the lie with ease. “Owes you one too, if I remember right.”

“She might,” Snart shrugged one shoulder, eyes on Barry. There was a smirk teasing at his lips. Barry could already feel himself relaxing.

“You know I didn’t bring you in on the Reserve heist because I thought you skipped down. Couldn’t track you down when I needed back-up on a transport job a while back.”

“Oh?” Snart laid his fingers casually over the cold gun strapped to his hip. “Last I heard you found yourself a replacement for me just fine.”

It was a dig, but Barry let himself grin just a little in response, digging right back, copying Snart’s inflection. “Replace you? My team could never.”

"Alright enough,” Goldface cut in, and Barry shifted his attention back, standing up a bit straighter. He caught Ralph sending him a weird look. “Wha’ do I call you? Sam?”

“The Chemist.”

The gun was off his neck and Barry straightened his jacket. Ralph’s expression was still in need of schooling but the man caught himself quick and cleared his throat, addressing Goldface.

“So uh, we back in business?”

“With a twist.” Goldface moved casually over to what looked like a throne. Snart fell into step next to Barry. “Got a big job tonight. Hired Snart to plan it - I want it to go right, and well, you know how anal he can be. Could use a guy like The Chemist on our side. Cover our tracks. Since you two are such pals.”

He glanced at Snart, who titled his head. “Keith.”

“Goldface.”

Snart rolled his eyes. “Goldface. i work with a skeleton crew and a plan. The team is already bloated.”

“So you keep telling me. Drop the two you like the least and bring these ones on board. Unless you have an objection?”

Snart caught Barry’s gaze. Barry’s eyes hardened.

“What’s our target?”

[ ... ]

“Okay, so when was I going to learn that you and Captain Cold are flirting frenemies?”

“What? We’re not... no. Didn’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“He’s a - I don’t know. Ally? Sometimes. Or, well he was an enemy, but not really, well... he did betray us that one time, but then he went and died, and then the timeline changed thanks to the Legion of Doom so he didn’t really remember dying. I do, though, remember him dying, so do the Legends - “

“The Legion of what? The Legends? Why do the Legends -”

“Didn’t you know Snart was a Legend - “

“He was what?” Ralph hissed. 

“Heatwave is too. You know Mick is Heatwave?”

Ralph’s expression indicated that no, he had not known that.

“How come I never know any of this stuff? Ever?”

Barry really wished that just for one day, Ralph could experience being friends with Ralph. “I dunno, man, it was a different timeline and I can’t keep track of who remembers what anymore. There’s a file on him somewhere but there’s a lot going on. Point is - he’s kind of on our side some days, but doesn’t remember some of being on our side, I think? He knows he died being good though so he’s been on an evil kick since he came back from the dead timeline.”

Ralph’s expression was telling Barry exactly how much sense he was making. Barry clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah.”

"So can we trust him?”

“Trust? Don’t push it,” that was Snart’s voice, cutting in and coming up to join them. “A new stray on your team.”

“This is Ralph. He’s... yeah, one of us.”

Snart eyed him, then turned back to Barry. “We roll out in five.”

He nodded, becoming more sombre again. Their target was a 3D printer for organs. It should be in a hospital, saving lives - and they were going to steal it before it ever got there.

“You sure you’re up for this, Barry?”

He almost flinched at his real name, at how personal the question felt. 

“Stealing from a hospital...”

He squared his jaw. “I can handle it.”

“You had better. I don’t want any surprises.”

“How can you be okay with this, Snart?” he took a step forward, and would’ve cursed his own emotions for getting the better of him except that would mean stopping to contemplate those emotions and that was the last thing he wanted to do. “This printer could save lives.”

Snart stepped in just as close. “It will save lives, Barry.”

“For the highest bidder.”

“What exactly do you think our healthcare system is? Hmm?” He paused just long enough before he went for the kill. “Insurance companies are positively criminal. Consider this some wealth equalization.”

Barry swallowed around the anger in his throat, knots along his shoulders from reigning in his anger. Snart tilted his head, voice lowering.

“Besides - you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need that field generator for something. I could remind you of all the lives I’m sure you plan to save and whatever your bigger picture is, but let’s skip ahead to the part where we agree to play nice for the evening, hm?”

A memory swam up, unbidden. He could almost taste the blood that had accompanied it at the time, lying on the tarmac at Ferris Air with Snart leaning over him, who you’re really mad at is yourself. This is on you, Barry.

If he hadn’t let himself get distracted, if he hadn’t focused on a weapons deal instead of the field generator, he wouldn’t need to ride shot-gun on a heist with Snart that was making his stomach turn. 

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The man nodded, and turned. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Oh and Barry? Don’t make me throw away the plan.”

[ ... ]

The job really did have more people than it should need. Snart normally worked with 2-3 others max, but Goldface had sent them in with a full weaponized crew. Barry couldn’t figure out for what, really, with the building barely secured and with codes and passcards made up for every crew member. Belatedly, slipping through guard-less halls, it occurred to him it was probably for him - the Flash.

No wonder Snart hadn’t argued harder about having him along on this job.

Ralph kept shooting him glances. Snart hadn’t left his side. The whole night was shaping up just peachy. But they made it to the printer without difficulty.

Ralph whistled from across the room, pointing down at a packaged crate. Barry and Snart hurried over.

“Like candy from a baby,” Snart murmured, glancing it over.

Barry scowled at him. “How are we getting it out of here?”

“Unwrap, repack.”

Barry squatted down to help. Ralph cleared his throat.

“What?”

He was flipping through some documentation that had been sitting on top of the crate. “Barry, I...”

Barry stood and snatched the documents. He could feel Snart’s eyes on him.

Shit.

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t see this. 

“Barry...”

“They’re kids, Snart.”

“We had a deal.”

“This baby is 4 months old and needs new lungs. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Snart grit his teeth. Barry took a step toward him, mindful of the way his eyes flashed dangerously. 

“I know you’re not made of ice.”

“Careful.”

Barry waited. Snart did too. It didn’t last long. The man went from solid stone to graceful movement in a second, and for a fraction of it Barry thought he might shoot, but he was just turning, dramatic as he rolled his body to express his long-suffering torment at having Barry in his life.

“You’re going to ruin my reputation. I have to work with these people in the future.”

“Wouldn’t this be more like taking out the competition?”

“Because that worked so well with Amunet.”

“You scared Amunet out of town?” So that’s why she hadn’t come back yet.

“Don’t tell Goldface. Long-distance didn’t work out so well for the lovers.”

Barry laughed. “Then you can’t pretend not to be intrigued. You always did like a challenge. Or don’t you want to rule this city?”

The grin Snart flashed him was definitely a genuine reaction, smothered out into something more dangerous and threatening quickly. Barry grinned in response and put out his arm.

“Mind helping with this cuff?”

Snart sized him up with a final sigh. “You owe me. Again.”

“And you love me owing you. One of these days I might even deliver.”

[ ... ]

“Iris, you know I love you and Barry.”

She glanced at Ralph, perturbed as ever when he said something declarative like that. It always preceded the most random and bizarre conversations.

“Uh... huh.”

“Right, so what I’m about to say is in the interest of protecting your relationship.”

“Oh boy.” She closed her notebook. No way she was going to be able to focus until Ralph had finished pulling whatever thread this was.

“So - Captain Cold.”

“Okay, do we need to break out the Bailey’s for this conversation?”

“You have Bailey’s?”

She rolled her eyes and moved across the coffee area to the freezer. “What do you take me for?”

He held out his mug and she poured them both a generous amount. 

“Okay, Captain Cold. He helped you and Barry stop Goldface from getting that organ printer, right?”

“Right. The thing is... I just wanted to make sure you know - I think he’s kind of got a ... crush? On your husband? And I’m not sure if Barry knows but - “

Iris burst out laughing. This? Really? “But he flirts like a teenage girl at prom every time Snart bats his eyelashes in his direction?”

“Wait you know?”

“I’ve had to work with them too you know. Drives my dad bananas.”

Ralph laughed too at the impression she pulled of her father’s wide, angry, confused eyes whenever Snart started getting too close and insinuating with Barry.

“Okay, so you know. That’s good. I was worried.”

“I could tell. I thought you were about to drop something serious on me.”

“Well I wasn’t gonna say anything, but then the field-static...spastic - “

“Neuro-stasis field generator?”

“Yes, that! When that showed up in the cortex this morning...”

“Snart’s courtship is a strange one.”

“You’re not... threatened by it?”

“How could I be, when Snart flirts just as much with me?” She paused, then leaned forward, elbows dropping to the table, voice slipping to an appropriately conspiratorial volume. “Just between you and me? Me ‘n Barry are just waiting for the day Snart realizes all he has to do is ask us nicely.”

The flummoxed expression from Ralph was definitely worth the interruption to her work.

[alvres]

― task one.            counseling session.

          cristina settles into the plush leather couch, legs and arms crossed defiantly, eyes moving from painting, to painting, to graduate psychology diplomas. she knows EXACTLY why she’s been called into the counselor’s office and no part of her’s looking forward to the hour-long grief session dr. lewis has planned for her. in fact, at this point, spending an afternoon with the windsors fighting over who cared about dante the most while she has to play referee sounds more relaxing. ‘ you know, my parents pay an expensive family therapist to do this every week. this isn’t really necessary, ’ she mutters, her eyes finally meeting with the counselor’s, as he flips to a new sheet of paper to add to his cristina alvares DOSSIER. ‘ while i’m sure they get paid a lot more than i do, no part of that makes them any more or less qualified to talk this through with you, cristina, ’ he smiles, taking off the cap of an expensive-looking fountain pen, ready to write down any and all of her reactions. not that he’s going to get much out of her. no one ever does. ‘ i have to do this, don’t i ? ’ she surmises, her arms uncrossing slowly as he shakes his head, almost as a sign of defeat. a deep sigh escapes her and she settles more comfortably into the couch.

‘ so, cristina, can you tell me about dante’s death ? what happened that day ? what were you doing ? be as specific as you want. ’

          without warning, the words seem to trigger her mind, which — for the first time in weeks — fights against the CHEMICAL HAZE she’s cloaked herself in. she sees it all, suddenly. the senior year celebrations. she and dante agreeing to take different cars to get to the party. meeting with ares in a dark corner of the host’s home, unable to be away from him for too long and unable to keep her hands to herself. drinking more than she should and feeling a certain sense of warmth envelop her. all before it came crashing down. all before someone screamed at their phone, a scream that’s been ECHOING in cristina’s skull ever since. ‘ his car crashed, ’ she replies, after what seems like an eternity, her brain still playing a poorly edited supercut of the evening, ‘ i found out from someone who’d gotten a text from someone else. and then my mom called. and then i left the house i was in. the rest of the evening’s kind of a blur. ’ the answer pours out of her like she’s rehearsed it, emotion lacking completely from her face. like a ROBOT reading a script. any more emotion and she knows she’d break down. something she can’t afford to do in broad daylight at school.

‘ where were you when you found out about his death ? you mentioned a house ? ’

          she thinks back to the walls, covered in awards, trophies and medals. cristina had though for so long that her mother was perhaps the craziest in boston, only to realize upon entering dante’s teammate’s home that athlete’s mothers were far WORSE. every inch of their home was decorated like an odd shrine to their son and his lacrosse achievements. it was like the louvre, but for douchebags. all that was missing were little plaques explaining each award, each black and white picture of the PRODIGAL son. ‘ we were all at dean sampson’s house, celebrating the fact that senior year’s coming to a close soon. someone drew devil horns on one of the many black and white portraits dean’s parents have of him in their staircase, ’ she mutters, eyes now focused on the comings and goings outside of dr. lewis’ window. she’s never cared much for the athletes at houghton.

‘ since then, what’s happened ? how have things been with you and family and friends ? ’

          she holds back a scoff. EVERYONE knows how it’s been, thanks to every boston tabloid’s round-the-clock coverage of her family’s grief and the outfits they’ve chosen to accessorize their sadness with. she’s pretty sure she remembers reading that someone thought the death of her brother made her skinnier. she definitely remembers thinking that dante would’ve laughed. ‘ we buried dante on that sunday. and then the school held a beautiful memorial for him, ’ she continues, biting back comments about how RIDICULOUS the memorial was, with its gaudy decorations and speeches. it almost seemed like everyone with a pulse suddenly came out openly as dante’s biggest fan, fawning about how much they individually missed him to both his and cristina’s parents ( an act which led monica alvares to drink for the rest of the evening, convinced she hadn’t loved her son enough ). silence lingers for an instant and dr. lewis shifts in his chair, cocking an eyebrow in the hopes of making her realize cristina hasn’t fully answered his questions. ‘ things have been as good as you’d expect, ’ cristina finally states, realizing that there’s no way he’ll cut this session short, ‘ my parents are really doing the most they can to support me right now. we aren’t the BRADY BUNCH of beacon hill at the moment, but we’ll build ourselves back up together. ’ another eye roll is suppressed as cristina thinks back to her mother on the phone with the lifestyle editor of the boston globe, talking about potential times for cristina to be interviewed about her tennis skills. because no part of an alvares twelve-step grief program is complete without tone-deaf image damage control.

‘ have you been through any other difficult times recently prior to or following the loss ? ’

          she inhales rapidly, as if to start a sentence, before catching herself — god, he’s GOOD. almost better than the expensive family therapist, who — truth be told — has never gotten this close to making cristina cough out an honest answer. the girl’s years of practice in the art of deception are wasted on her. plus, that doctor’s probably sleeping with her father. at this point, no one would be surprised. ‘ it’s been tough but, as i said, i go to therapy weekly. plus, senior year’s keeping my mind busy. so, don’t you worry. i’m still the SAME OLD cristina, who eats her five fruit and vegetables a day and can put a yearbook spread together better than the entire yearbook staff put together. ’ she ends her sentence with a smile, prompting dr. lewis to take his glasses off and put them to the side. he knows she’s LYING, but he also knows not to push someone in the steps of their grief process. after all, there’s always a stage of denial before acceptance rolls around. so, instead, he just makes a note to see cristina alvares again in a week as she gets up to go back to class, also noting to check if she’s on antidepressants next session. no one’s this cheery after the death of a twin.

          the impact of the impromptu grief counseling session doesn’t hit her until she makes her way to one of the more secluded locations at houghton. shaking hands go straight to the lining of her bag as she tries to hold back tears, fingers racking through various objects before coming in contact with a lighter and a pre-rolled joint. she expertly places one end between her lips and sparks up the other with her lighter, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air above her, feeling herself RELAX almost instantly. ‘ thank fucking god, ’ she whispers, exhaling another cloud, not bothered to wonder if the smell would tip someone off. she needed this if she was going to go back to class and face her classmates. because if her facade were to fall for even an instant, all would CRUMBLE.

[douxreviews]

Back to the Future (1985) Review

"Great Scott!"

"This is heavy."

Sitting down to write this review has been one of the more difficult challenges I've had as a reviewer. Because no matter what I say, words are bit inadequate to describe how much this film means to me. This is one of my favorite movies of all time, and because of that it has some deep emotional ties for me. This review contains spoilers, but since we're coming up on the thirtieth anniversary of its release, I don't think it's much of an issue.

I remember feeling excited leaving the theater after seeing Back to the Future for the first time. I won't say how old I was, but considering it came out in 1985, and I was a kid... well you can do the math. The wonderful thing about this one is, nostalgia isn't really a factor. This is a genuinely good movie, with good acting, writing, directing, and music. It even stands up to the test of time with only a couple of visual effects showing their age.

I won't say it's a masterpiece or anything. That would be silly, but I'm not sure how much more I could ask for in a fun time travel adventure flick. I mean, we get your classic fish out of water scenario, a very well set up plot with tons of details, and Michael J. Fox in his prime. Okay, that last one is probably why this movie is as good as it is. Seriously, Michael J. Fox just exudes this likeable charisma, even when his character isn't necessarily the best person in the world.

Marty McFly has some pretty serious issues, and it takes three movies to fully address them. He's arrogant, overconfident, reckless, not particularly bright, doesn't respect authority, and is always in way over his head. But I guess that's what makes him a good lead, he's flawed and so he's relatable. Marty doesn't always make the right choice, but he always tries to fix his mistakes. He's also very loyal, almost to a fault.

Dr. Emmett "Doc" Brown, on the other hand is brilliant, but not quite all there. Spacey, eccentric, and always able to think his way through a situation, Doc Brown spends a majority of the movie trying to help Marty fix his problems. He's sarcastic and sardonic when he needs to be, and points out the things that Marty misses. In other words, he's the perfect partner to our lead. He makes up the deficiencies in Marty's character, and compliments him in such a way that together they can overcome any problem.

Of course Marty's problems are seemingly impossible to solve. Marty is stuck in the past with a time machine that no longer functions, he inadvertently took his father's place at a pivotal moment in his parents' relationship, which leads to the biggest issue... his mother has the hots for him and not his father. None of those problems can be solved quickly or easily, but the writing is such that each issue has an organic solution.

The biggest strength of the movie is in the setups and details. Each little thing is there for a reason. The parallels between the past and present are especially important because they lay out all the answers in the first ten minutes of the movie. This works because each bit of information is fed to Marty little by little. It comes across as background information that feels natural, but it is so vital that without that set up, the plot would've been a mess.

Back to the Future always been a bit more than just a fun movie. It represents the concepts that are fantastical and wonderful to me. It explores time travel in a way that's accessible. There is some token science from Doc Brown about unraveling the space/time continuum, but for the most part the time travel is simply a MacGuffin, a way to tell a story about a bunch of important themes. We get everything from standing up for yourself, to not being afraid to be who you really are. We discover that our parents are real people, and that the world can change by our actions. That's kinda deep for what is ostensibly a kid's movie about a time machine made out of a car.

Bits:

I've always thought Biff was a good villain, but he isn't particularly scary. There is one thing that has always bothered me, though. Why does his personality change so completely after the fight with George? Did one punch really change him so dramatically? I have a theory about this and I think it's the only way this makes sense. Okay, so George punches Biff, knocking him out in one hit. That changes the dynamic between them, maybe even to the point where they become friends later in life. Biff also seems to love cars, and it makes sense that with some encouragement (perhaps from George) Biff could've ended up starting his own business. It is still a bit strange that Biff is so different, but it really is a small detail.

It took four years for the sequel to get made. Four years is a very long time to a kid, especially back in the stone age, where video tapes and cut up re-runs on cable were the only options to see a movie again. Normally the idea of a sequel isn't that much of an issue, but the movie ended on a freaking cliff-hanger! I don't know what behind the scenes drama kept the production delayed for that long, but four years! I'm still pissed about that, twenty-nine years later.

The DeLorean is the car I wanted until I was a teenager. Of course I wanted it with all the time travel stuff included.

Michael J. Fox and Lea Thompson (Lorraine) were born only nine days apart. Crispin Glover (George) is actually three years younger than Fox, who was twenty-four when the film was released.

There is a fun story about Ronald Reagan related to the film. Apparently he loved the moment where Doc Brown couldn't believe that an actor could become president so much, that he asked the projectionist to roll back the film so that he could see the scene again. Reagan even mentioned the movie in his 1986 State of the Union speech.

In the 1985 scenes, most of the store fronts in the town square are bars, liquor stores, pawn shops, or adult bookstores. The movie theater only shows XXX features. There is also graffiti on the lion statues flanking the entrance to the housing community Marty lives in. Hill Valley seems like a pretty crummy place to live.

Christopher Lloyd's reactions are all over the top and amazing, and most have almost no dialogue attached to them.

Huey Lewis had a cameo as one of the members of the selection committee listening to Marty's audition for the school dance. Marty is playing one of his songs. Lewis also provided two tracks on the soundtrack "The Power of Love" and "Back in Time."

Quotes:

Marty: "Whoa. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that my mother has got the hots for me?" Doc Brown: "Precisely." Marty: "Whoa. This is heavy." Doc Brown: "There's that word again. Heavy. Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there a problem with the Earth's gravitational pull?"

Marty: "Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Ah... Are you telling me that you built a time machine... out of a DeLorean?" Doc Brown: "The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?"

Doc Brown: "Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads."

Marty: "Calvin? Wh... Why do you keep calling me Calvin?" Lorraine: "Well, that is your name, isn't it? Calvin Klein? It's written all over your underwear."

Marty: "Where are my pants?" Lorraine: "Over there, on my hope chest."

Biff: "Since you're new here, I'm gonna cut you a break, today. So, why don't you make like a tree and get outta here?"

Lorraine: "It's our first television set. Dad just picked it up today. Do you have a television?" Marty: "Well, yeah. You know we have... two of them." Milton: "Wow! You must be rich." Stella: "Oh, honey, he's teasing you. Nobody has two television sets."

Marty: "Hey, hey, I've seen this one. I've seen this one. This is a classic. This is, uh, where Ralph dresses up as a man from space." Milton: "What do you mean, you've seen this? It's brand new." Marty: "Yeah, well, I saw it on a ... rerun." Milton: "What's a rerun?" Marty: "You'll find out."

George: "Who are you?" Marty: "Silence, Earthling. My name is Darth Vader. I am an extraterrestrial from the planet Vulcan!"

Doc Brown: "1.21 gigawatts! 1.21 gigawatts. Great Scott!" Marty McFly: "What-what the hell is a gigawatt?"

Back to the Future is one of the seminal movies that came out during my childhood, and so I will always love it. It might have a couple of flaws and plot holes, but they don't matter much to me.

4 out of 4 Time traveling Deloreans

J.D. Balthazar is a confirmed nerd who loves most things sci-fi or fantasy-related.

[toseeornotosee]

First Post! “Beautiful Boy”

Sooo first off, let me say that this has been a long time coming. I’ve always been interested in movies and film ever since I can remember. The films, cinema, the movie stars and the roles they play can transport you into a whole different realm, dimension, an array of emotions, fun adventures, and overall a new experience to which you may have never encountered had you not seen the film. At least, this has been the experience for me!

Having said that, there’s also many films in which I have watched and have left feeling completely unmotivated, very uninspired and asking the question, “why?” or “how?” or even just, “REALLY?!”.  “Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets”, “Now You See Me 2″, and “Downsizing” fit that category, just to name a few. In fact, even though I had free passes to see “Downsizing”, I almost left halfway through the film, that’s how bad it was; please do not see. (I even told friends that I would pay them not to see this film, ha). So this leaves us here. I will do my amateur film critic best, and try to act as a guide to let you know which films to see or not to see, hence the title, get it!?! (shout out! you know who you are). I’ve divided this into three parts: Plot, Performances, and Poignant moments, I think that should sum up a movie well enough. :) And first on the list we have “Beautiful Boy”; which actually inspired me to write this blog because it’s so great! Here we go...

Plot! 

“Beautiful Boy” is a raw, emotionally elevating, and relevant look at a father/son relationship in the midst of horrendous drug abuse. The film is actually based on the best-selling pair of memoirs from father and son David and Nic Sheff; to which I have not read them, yet. Incorporated through the film, flashbacks show the depth of love between David Sheff (Steve Carrel) and his son, Nic (Timothee Chalamet) (sidenote: how does one get the little asterisk on the ‘e’ in tumblr? hmm).  Various moments from being dropped off at the airport as a little boy about to board an airplane to more simpler scenes in which dad and son are talking in Nic’s bedroom show the dynamic relationship they have for each other. In one flashback scene where Nic is dropped off at college, David learns that his son is addicted to and has tried many drugs including heroine and LSD. Numerous counseling sessions, rehab check ins and checkouts, as well as various relapses occur, taking a toll on every character involved. From David’s new wife, (Maura Tierney) saying Nic can no longer come home, to the little kids that are home constantly asking where their big brother is, to David himself reaching his wits end, your heart is pulled in so many different directions depending on which character you empathize at that moment. It ultimately culminates in a desperate call from son to father asking for ‘one more chance’ and ‘this time will be different’. David simply responds with ‘no’. Too many lies, broken promises, and overall distrust has soured the beautiful relationship these two once had. However, there’s a redemptive ending; don’t worry! You’ll just have to see it to know what happens, I won’t give it away. :)

Performances!

Timothee Chalamet’s performance, much like in “Call Me By Your Name”, is breathtaking. The tension, angst, fear, anxiety, are all wrapped in a emotional blanket that you can’t help but wear; it’s that palpable. I caught myself thinking, ‘how does he do this???”. You can’t help but empathize and feel for this child, who, despite what he says, absolutely needs help. It’s a whole other level, and definitely Oscar worthy. 

As for Steve Carrell, I thought he did a pretty good job in this serious role as a very loving, devoted, nurturing, and undeniably frustrated father. In the more frustrating scenes where he raises his voice, it immediately reminded me of an angry Michael Scott, haha. If you were to close your eyes while he was yelling, you would be transported back to Dunder Mifflin where Michael is yelling at Dwight for some reason. I wish he would’ve played more with his voice projection/inflection a la Daniel Day Lewis in “Lincoln” or “There Will Be Blood”  or even Meryl Streep in “The Devil Wears Prada” (maybe a stretch, but it’s still applicable!). 

Speaking of, ‘Office’ fans will love that Holly and Michael are back together in this film! (sorta) Amy Ryan, who played Holly in ‘The Office’, plays a small but pivotal role as the mother of Nic and ex-wife of David. It’s quite funny to see them “together” again, but in such dramatic roles; makes me wonder about the casting choice for the film. People will immediately think of Holly and Michael from ‘The Office’. Only once do they share a scene on screen, but I can’t help but wonder how fun the set must’ve been that day. :)

And lastly, the pivotal performance of the film is undoubtedly TIMOTHEE CHALAMET’S HAIR. I already knew from “Call Me By Your Name” how magnificent it was, but in this film, it truly is NEXT LEVEL. So much so that after seeing the film, one of the first comment’s my friend and I said to each other went something like, “HIS HAIR THO”. It’s like a Finesse, Vidal Sassoon, and Pantene commercial came together and made a voluminous, curly, and luxurious child that’d be the envy of anyone alive. Definitely jealous. 

(this gif doesn’t do it justice, but just a small preview)

Poignant moment(s)!:

I’ve found two moments that I loved or stood out to me the most. Fans of the amazing film, “Mr Holland’s Opus” will love the wave of nostalgia that hits them when there’s a “beautiful beautiful beautiful, beautiful boooyyyy” moment between father and son. Be on the lookout for it! 

There’s another moment when David and his wife show up to a meeting of some sort, I believe either AA or something along the lines of that, but more focused on drugs. A woman talks about a friend that she has just “lost”. However, she goes on to explain how she’s been in mourning for some time, and it’s not a new feeling by any means. She’s been in mourning for years as she’s seen her friend slowly slip away, does not recognize her, and is literally dying in front of her eyes. The person she once knew became a clam shell, a ghost of her former self. Her friends constant drug abuse had prepared her for her death. This scene was very touching and extremely moving; and to have that perspective made so much sense because the film truly shows the effects of constant drug abuse. 

Overall!

To See! Definite See! Must See! 

[the-shipping-machine]

Mother and son|| a WROEF fanfic

Every sense Sanjay died, Lewis was quieter. He wasn’t talking as much as he used to before, he hasn’t shared his opinions that much, and if you tried to talk to him too much he’d just leave without a word. Dawn would kill to hear her oldest son having a conversation with anybody again.

She wasn’t as close to him as her husband was, and that was the thought that kept her awake for nights. “What if he doesn’t trust me?” “What if he thinks that I’m a bad mom?”. She never talked to him about her feelings that much, and that’s because she was scared that they’d make him feel uncomfortable. 

A year later, Milton disappeared. Some might say that he ran away, some might say that he got lost... after all, the Finches were known for their misfortune. Dawn searched a few months, believing that her son is still alive, but Lewis wasn’t much of an optimist person. “What if he’s dead, mom?” He asked her one day, as she was copying some more “Missing” posters.

“What?” she turned around, surprised to see that Lewis is finally talking to her.

“It’s been a long time. We’ve searched in so many places.” Lewis said. “It’s been almost a year and a half! If we find him, he’s probably dea-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lewis!” She yelled at him, with anger in her voice and tears in her eyes. “Just shut up!”

She couldn't control her emotions.

“Just do everyone a favor and shut up!”

Lewis nodded and went over to his room, quietly. 

Dawn, who just realized what she has just said, ran after him, trying to apologize, but he didn’t listen. He just closed the door to his room, not allowing anyone to get in.

----

A few years went by. Lewis became a high school graduate, but instead of finding a job, he did the thing he was good at- not leaving the room, smoking drugs, practicing the guitar and playing video games.

Dawn grew sick of it. She couldn’t be the only working person in this family and he was a grown man. She decided to get him a job at the closest cannery, even though Lewis hated fish. 

“Lewis, try to sleep early tonight.” She told him.

“Why?” Lewis asked, rolling himself another cigar.

“I got you a job!” she said.

“What?” he asked. “Without asking me?”

“Honey, you would’ve said ‘no’ if I’d ask you,” she said.

“Mom, I’m a grown man!” he said, trying to remain calm. “It better be at a good place.”

“Does the cannery counts as a good place?” she asked.

“Mom. What the fuck?” he asked, almost losing his self-control. “you know I hate fish!”

“I know, I know, but this is the closest workplace that would hire you without you having to go to a university!” she said. “I do it because I know what’s best for you, you know!”

At that moment, Lewis smiled. But not an understanding smile. Not a sad smile. It was an angry smile.

“YOU know what’s good for ME?” He asked. “Give me one good example for a time that your choices did something good for my life. And no. The therapy was Edie’s idea. Not yours.”

Dawn remained silent.

“All these times when you chose to remain sleeping while dad was taking care of me... The time that you told me to do a favor and shut up even though I was bearly talking... Getting me a job at a place I hate without asking me...” He said as tears are showing up in his eyes. “You’re probably thinking that I should’ve been the one who went missing instead of Milton, are you?”

He sighed.

“Lewis...” She began talking, but he cut her off.

“That’s okay. I would think the same way if I was you.” He said, and with that, he went inside his room.

----

A few years went by. Lewis still hated his job, but he kept all the complaints to his therapist.  He met two friends there- The Jayiung twins, Mayson and Anna. but as time goes by, Lewis mind began to wonder. He was daydreaming, he didn’t speak to anybody... Anna took it as if he hates them, but Mayson tried to talk to him every day and even brought him food.

At one point, Lewis forgot to come back home. When Dawn tried to talk to him, he was still quiet, as if she wasn’t there. A few hours later she gets a phone call.

“Hello?” She asked.

“You’re Lewis’ mom, right?” The voice on the other line said with a broken and panicked voice.

“Yes. Who is it?” she asked.

“Mayson.” He answered. “I’m a friend and a co-worker of your son, but it doesn’t matter now. You have to come!”

“What happened?” she asked, worried.

“So I forgot something at the cannery and when I can back I saw Lewis... He used the fish cutter to chop his head off...” he began sobbing. “I already called the police. I...I’m so sorry...”

For a few moments that felt like an eternity, Dawn felt the storm inside her heart. Guilt, pain, fear, grief, anger... she wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her throat.

Her son just died, and she never proved to him that she can be the mom he wanted her to be. She disappointed him, she disappointed Sanjay, she disappointed Edith, she disappointed Milton... she disappointed everyone.

“Mrs. Finch?” Mayson’s voice from the other side of the line brought her back to reality. 

“I’m on my way, Mayson. Don’t worry.” she said. “And you can call me Dawn.”

“O-okay, Mrs. Fi- I mean Dawn.” he said. “I’m so sorry, I really wanted to stop him but I was too slow and-”

“It’s not your fault, Mayson.” She said. 

She hung up the phone, rushing over to the cannery. On the way, she called Edie and told her what happened. Another Finch fell a victim to the family curse. 

She came into the cannery at the same time the cops came.

“My son...” She said as soon as she saw Lewis’s disconnected head. She sat on the floor, crying.

Mayson put his hand on her shoulder, and by the look on his face, he was crying this whole time. 

Lewis was gone.

And she never got the chance to apologize.

---

Edith and dawn began packing as soon as they came back from the funeral, ending up leaving everything behind.

Edie? Died the day after they left.

Mayson? Died in a car accident a day after Lewis’s funeral.

Anna? Moved away.

It seems like so many people they knew were leaving.

And quickly, Dawn got sick.

As she was lying on her bed in the hospital, breathing with the help of medical technology, she could’ve sworn that her little brother Gus came to her.

“You coming, sis?” he asked. “You’ve been out there for too long!”

She smiled, knowing that this is the end.

“Come on, Gus,” she said with her final breath. “Let’s go home. The family’s waiting for us.”.

---

The afterlife world looked like an exact copy of the house.

She hugged Gus and greeted the others. After meeting most of them, she went upstairs to her room, where she saw her love, Sanjay, sitting on the bed, watching both of their sons, Milton and Lewis, sleeping.

She ran quickly over to the bed, pulling the three of them into a huge hug (Waking both Lewis and Milton up on the way) and cried of happiness. She missed these dorks so much, and she finally has the chance to apologize to them for the disappointment she thought she was.

“I missed you guys so much.” she said between the sobbing.

“Same here.” Sanjay said and Milton nodded.

“Sorry I was a little bit over emotional back then,” Lewis said. “I mean, shit, I guess I should’ve-”

she hugged her older son tighter.

“Shut up and get a hug, you dork.” she said.

“You’re great, mom.” he said, smiling and hugging her.

Suddenly, death didn’t seem so bad after all.

[peachybeancinema]

Week 1

Exercise

1 film that’s stayed with me and remembered. The Secret Garden, 1993, dir. Agnieszka Holland.

Cinematography wide shots and beautiful establishing shots, opening shot is a lone girl that can’t clothe herself, left in dead centre with lots of space around her, the closeups of hands feels very innocent and intricate- they feel like a soft, innocent female gaze.

Lighting contrast between the stale dark inside and the light garden

Editing not noticed so much

The script, partly cheesy cause it’s about children trying/forced to grow up too fast, and a period like flick

Production design, old timey and frilly, but oh boy their green set designer went OFF 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Tone, lonely and hollow to a slow burn hope

Theme….

theme? Did it speak to me? Yes, the absence of parents- chosen to or not, running around finding wonder, kindness and strength in a garden

How did I feel? Loved and seen- a lost and lonely child that internally begs for love but has an inability to regulate her emotions- Collin too!

What kind of film would I like to be a part of HORROR or like something that can incite hope and make all types of children feel seen

EXERCISE 2

Director that inspires me: Gia Coppola

Resource on their process: ‘everything was trying to reach out to as many people as I could.’ Many of them stayed at Coppola’s mother’s house during filming. “I would drive them home after work and we’d all have dinner,” Coppola says, “It was like camp. I loved it.”

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.washingtonpost.com/news/arts-and-entertainment/wp/2014/05/09/gia-coppola-talks-directing-james-francos-palo-alto-and-the-pressures-of-her-last-name-qa/%3foutputType=amp

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.vogue.com/article/gia-coppola-palo-alto-personal-style-and-james-franco/amp

Notes on script:

Does the camera show that she’s dead?

When do we learn that she’s dead- same time as him or before?

Rewrite in program with proper formatting

Week 3…

I was able to get together with a crew member and get the new draft of the script done. I have a bit of trouble understanding sometimes how to properly structure a script after coming from a book writing background, so I was really thankful that she was able to help me understand even better. The feedback from previous classes has centred around its general ‘look’ as a script and whether the viewer is in on knowing that Alexis is dead, and from the strat I’ve wanted the audience to know to further their distaste towards Ross, otherwise the audience could say ‘well hey I missed it, I get why he did’. Her choking will take place on camera, close up, so we can watch her leave us.

Week 4…

Getting ready for the pitch has been a huge mental struggle for me, but I keep holding onto the idea of actually making this film and that definitely gets me into our team meetings on the days it feels impossible. I’m already so happy with the crew and their thoughts and contributions, but it doesn’t kill my anxiety of presenting. I feel like the script is at a good point based on feedback, so when we presented and the main concern was finding a production designer, I felt immediate relief… okay we can tackle that. There is a pressure I’ve found quite uncomfortable so far in my journey in this class, and it’s even after filling the crew roles, a certain student not even in this class has become quite intense in getting involved as camera operator despite that role being VERY explicitly filled. I plan on keeping polite but firm, but god why should I have to?

Week 5…

So… despite the previous week's tiny rant of someone trying to vulture a filled role, our original DOP is now the 1st AD and someone else within our crew has taken on DOP, a choice we were actually all really content with. A search for a production designer continues, but we have to focus on scouting our potential Ross and Alexis. Unfortunately none from the team- including myself, could make it to crewing night, however, another student pitched on our behalf. The main goal is to obviously fill the production designer role, so fingers are crossed in the meantime. There was no class this week so I definitely spent the week taking care of myself and finishing off my slides for the pitch for next week, and I’m pretty happy with my slides and that most in the crew have stuck to the same aesthetic through the slides (minus points for memes).

Week 6…

Pitch week, so I’m ill with anxiety for it, but nonetheless, meds taken, train caught and standing before the panel. After the comments from the panel on how it very obviously pulls away from the serious nature of content, I was pretty bummed I didn’t just quickly delete people’s memes before the pitch. Overall I felt pretty good about how it went, but that’s only because that’s how my crew told me to feel about it. My anxiety was so bad while presenting, that I blacked out. In moments of intense anxiety I will disassociate entirely, I know I spoke, but I know nothing that I said or that was said to me. This is an incredibly frustrating process for me, especially because I have had to rely on my crews memories on the pitch, which definitely doesn’t feel fair. They assure me we are on the right path, and just that we should get a move on with casting. Still no production designer.

Week 7…

Mental health and substance abuse are taking a bad turn this week and it is affecting how easily it is for me to communicate effectively with my crew. I won’t be able to open messages or even show I’m online out of fear of disappointing and giving wrong/no answers. I feel entirely overwhelmed and I can feel myself falling behind. There’s still no production designer and at this point I’m willing to do it because I fear it’ll turn into a shit show anyway. I have been experiencing the worst internet from home and it’s been making getting anything done when I’m finally mentally available, impossible. I’m tired and as much as I love this script, I just want this trimester over.

Week 8…

This week for The Silent Treatment, we’ve been taking a look at Producer Sina’s Starnow casting calls for both roles, as well as looking at AirBnB’s for possible locations, which has lead to playful but extenuating bickering on the dop and producers part over ‘apartment or house’, which honestly, it’s quite easy reigning them in when they get a little too passionate. But I’ve actually found their bickering and passionate opinions on options for the film and helping restore my own fight for this film too. We have a few meetings coming up over our discord and we’ve been polishing up our previous presentation slowly.

Week 9…

We’re cutting down through our pickings for actors as well as getting excited over the possibility of taking James Lewis on as production designer. He actually appears to listen and understand quite well and he’s always writing notes in his book for props and decor. I’ve shared my ideas and I’m hoping he can fulfil my needs. This week was a really difficult one for me mentally (big shock and huge surprise) so I’ve actually been trying to make a plan to stay well and that’s by putting together a rehab stay, a huge and terrifying step I’m still not sure I’m going to actually take.

Week 10…

I’ve lost all of myself and my motivation this week. A rehab stay is officially scheduled and I’m afraid and trying so hard to reignite my passion for film and my own words and stories, but I don’t think it is worth it. I know I’ll look back in a week to a few weeks and struggle to understand why I hated my work so much, but I think when you hate you, everything you touch looks disgusting. I’ve been incredibly fortunate for my friends- some on my crew- and I’m INCREDIBLY fortunate for the crew members that don’t really know me from a bar of soap being exceptionally soft and kind with me during my low period. Knowing my team are such lovely people is actually a much better reason to get off my ass and do this- for them- not for me and my silly story…

Week 11…

We finally have short listed actors AND location and now we have those last auditions to wade through. Internally I definitely have decided on my location and actress, but for the male actor I’m not so sure yet. One guy auditioned and while he played it quite well, it was his in between chats that had me slightly off, as he kept feeling the need to drill in that he isn’t ‘this guy’, which of you arent, you don’t feel the need to tell everyone, which is why I’m keen to give another actor a whirl and see where to go from there. My fashion designer friend is still keen to make the scrubs and we’ve all worked out a decent pay for her services- I love bringing friends from other art disciplines into my films, eg placing crazy art from my painter friend, decorating the sets with my friends published books and even my nursing friend belinda wants to give me a bunch of medical supplies to set dress!

Week 12...

Big pitch next week and I’m terrified- how can I actually feel so prepared but terrified. The last male actor to audition BLEW me away and I felt a real chemistry when talking to him between the breaks which means I’m really looking forward to directions BOTH actors, as they’re super lovely and open and very relaxed to speak with! Location is LOCKED and I couldn’t be happier with the pick made! We just keep polishing away at the presentation, and yes, the memes are still coming out of the woodworks...

Week 13…

I'm not angry over the pitch, but I wouldn’t say I left happy… some of the ‘criticisms’ felt so empty and UTTERLY devoid of actual meaning. I mean, and I’m sorry, but this script was the same script written 1 year ago. No changes were made because I didn’t receive criticism through these weeks to do so- sure structure of the actual script itself changed but the scene where he imposes himself in her space was ALWAYS there, and I know the lecturers can have a lot to remember, but DO NOT ever say ‘this part wasn’t always here’ and ‘no I think we would’ve noticed’ had me boiling. It’s important to not talk with so much confidence in these kinds of times, as we all can forget things, but to stand and tell someone what they wrote and didn’t write in front of a crowd of people in higher positions than them, that’s insulting. I’m happy to take the criticisms about that ‘rape implication’ exert VERY easily, but it could have been addressed in week 1. I also do believe that younger lecturers NEED to be in these pitches, as it is a crowd of older people and senses of humour and film are changing and that should be fairly judged by a RANGE of ages.

APA REFERENCING

Gia Coppola talks directing James Franco’s “Palo Alto” and the pressures of her last name (Q&A). (n.d.). Washington Post. Retrieved June 25, 2021, from https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/arts-and-entertainment/wp/2014/05/09/gia-coppola-talks-directing-james-francos-palo-alto-and-the-pressures-of-her-last-name-qa/

Nast, C. (2014, April 4). Gia Coppola On Palo Alto, Personal Style, and James Franco. Vogue. https://www.vogue.com/article/gia-coppola-palo-alto-personal-style-and-james-franco--