#awae season finale

[kitnapz]

i dont think any other show has had an impact on me as huge as awae. that show consumed my entire life for months and months when i was 15 and nothing has changed its so so dear to me

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Part 4 of my Anne With An E memes: season 1 episode 3

Rachel: I can't believe you're ok with all this "progressive" BS

Mathew:

Rachel, after just going on an anti-feminism rant:

Jerry, mishearing Anne talking to Belle:

Me when Billy cornerd Anne in the woods:

Us when Gilbert showed up to rescue her:

Me when Gilbert opened the door for her:

The other boys: but she's an orphan!!!!!

Gilbert:

What Josie's speech reminded me of:

Me when that lady disrespected Marilla in the store:

Diana having to do that poem in class:

[kochslut]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 ╰┈➤ cooper koch.

playing: every breath you take by the police

synopsis: you work as a costume designer and have grown close to actor cooper koch. what started as a friendly connection quickly turns unsettling when you realize he's been following you outside of work.

paring: cooper koch x fem reader!

warnings: stalking, unprotected sex, fingering, +18, dubious consent, manipulation

word count: 4.117

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

You've been working as a costume designer for the second season of Netflix’s Monsters for a while now. You were already close with the cast and crew, but no one stood out more than Cooper Koch, who played "Erik Menendez." You were in charge of his costumes, and he was always polite, friendly, and eager to help behind the scenes. At first, it just felt like part of the routine—he was charming and easy to talk to, and you two ended up building a connection.

But over time, his presence became a little too constant. He started showing up everywhere you went, even outside of work. Sometimes, you'd catch him standing at a distance, just watching you, his eyes always locked on you. He was at the café you visited after work, on the street you walked down on your way home, and even in the studio parking lot. It was like he knew exactly where you'd be.

The feeling of being watched went from uncomfortable to suffocating. Every step you took, it felt like he was right there, lingering. You never said anything, maybe out of fear of what might happen if you confronted him. That friendly, charismatic Cooper now seemed like someone else entirely. There was something unsettling about how he appeared out of nowhere, his eyes never leaving you. You tried to avoid being alone with him, but escaping this quiet pursuit felt impossible.

It was late at night when the day’s filming finally wrapped up. After packing up your things, you decided to walk home — it wasn’t far, and you needed some air to clear your mind. The night was cold, but nothing unbearable. The streets were quiet, with only a few people here and there, but the familiar feeling of being watched wouldn’t leave you alone. You just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

As you turned the corner, your pace slowed. Your heart started to pound, and suddenly the cold felt more biting, making your whole body tremble.

He was there again — Cooper. Standing at the corner by your house, as if he were waiting for you.

His back was turned, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. Should you slip inside unnoticed, or confront him? The question gnawed at you, because any other woman in a stalker situation would feel pure fear and dread. But not you.

Well, part of you wanted to feel scared. You should feel scared. It made sense. But you didn’t. Somehow, in a twisted way, knowing he was always around gave you a strange sense of security. Like he was there just for you, as if you were his only focus. But why, instead of fear, were you feeling attraction? The situation was far from normal, and something was deeply wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to walk towards him. He seemed to sense your presence, turning to face you, and when your eyes locked, the air between you grew thick. There was no going back now; you had to face whatever this was head-on. With each step closer, the tension between you intensified, and when you finally stopped in front of him, the silence was suffocating, as if the world around you had frozen.

"Cooper, you're freaking me the fuck out," you said bluntly, struggling to find words that didn’t seem to exist. You both knew it was a lie, that your attraction to him was only growing. Cooper stood there calmly, just watching you with that unreadable, hardened look in his eyes. You hated when he did that — analyzing you like he was in control. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"No," he said, and you blinked, confused. "I’m not scaring you," he added firmly, no hesitation, as if your attempt to push him away didn’t bother him at all.

Closing the distance with a few steps, he leaned down, his mouth hovering near your ear, making your skin prickle with tension. "Don’t lie to yourself. You know I don’t scare you," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your ear. "If I did, you would’ve run. Called someone... but you didn’t. You’re here, trying to handle this alone." He chuckled darkly, pulling back slightly as his words hung in the cold night air.

Now, you don’t know what to say. Your breathing is heavy, and your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. What could you possibly say in a moment like this? He’s completely cornered you, and now you’re part of his twisted little game. You try to take a step back, but your body doesn’t respond. It’s like your feet are glued to the ground, and the truth behind his words catches up to you. He was right—you didn’t want to run. Even though logic told you that you should, you’ve never been one for logic.

“Why are you doing this?” After a long pause, you finally manage to ask, your voice hesitant as you release the question that’s been stuck for so long. “You keep showing up wherever I am. That’s not normal, Cooper. I don’t know what you want, but...” You swallow hard, pretending to be scared even though the fear doesn’t come, hoping it will work. “It’s making me nervous.”

He laughs—loud and unapologetic—and it makes you feel genuinely uncomfortable now. Who the hell does he think he is? "I know you noticed. I wanted you to notice." He steps closer, and your heart races—not from fear, but from desire. You liked hearing those words from him. "I’m not following you for no reason. I need to be near you. I need you. No matter where you go, I’ll be there. Not because I want to scare you, but because I can’t stay away from you."

The way he speaks is hypnotizing, and the mix of obsession and desire in his words captivates you. You know you should run away from him; you know that. But there's a part of you gaining strength—a powerful urge to give in to his desires, to let him have you right here, right now.

"Oh God, this doesn’t make any sense," you mutter, denying it to yourself. "Why am I not scared of you?" You find yourself stepping closer without even realizing it, the gravity of the situation pulling you nearer to him. "Why does this feel... right?"

Cooper feels your fingers brush against his cheek, and he smiles.

"You know I’m not a monster. You know I’d never hurt you; I just want to protect you. Watching over you, making sure you’re okay... because you’re mine." His words are possessive, and they should terrify you, but instead, a wave of heat washes over your body. Fear melts away, replaced by an attraction that’s impossible to deny, and Cooper notices it.

He steps closer, the air between you thickening, charged with unspoken tension. The world around you fades, and in that moment, all that matters is the connection between you two. You feel alive, exhilarated by the danger and the desire, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been drawn to him all along.

"Why don't you invite me in, and we can settle this like two adults who desire each other?" he says, pulling back slightly but still keeping his hands on your face. His voice is provocative, and he knows he can ask for anything, and you'd obey like a lost puppy. He has power over you, and he relishes it.

You don’t say anything, instead gripping his hand and guiding him into your apartment. You both hurry up the stairs, barely acknowledging the guard on duty. In that moment, nothing else matters; it’s just you two. This night is yours, and you can do whatever you want without interruption.

The sound behind you is muffled as the door slams shut, thanks to the tall man who made it. The silence is thick, and neither of you is sure what to do next. Cooper has been waiting for this moment for so long; he can hardly believe you’re finally his. For him, nothing else matters.

Every breath is an invitation, every glance a promise. You gasp as he steps closer, his eyes studying you with an intensity that feels like they’re devouring you. Your body is already on fire. Finally, Cooper touches you, as if he’s been given permission to unleash everything he’s been holding back. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, but the intention behind that touch is undeniable: he needs you.

The air is thick with desire. Neither of you speaks because there’s no need. Words are irrelevant at this moment. The longing is palpable, igniting when you throw yourself against him. Your lips crash together fiercely, without hesitation, as if you both need this like a sick person needs medicine. Cooper is elated; he never imagined it would be you to take the lead, but he doesn’t hesitate.

The kiss is urgent, as if time is running out and every second is too precious to waste.

He presses you against the living room wall, the force of his body pinning you in place, leaving you unable to move. But there’s no fear, only a growing desire that intensifies with every movement of his lips against yours. Cooper’s hands explore your body with an intensity that makes you shiver. There’s no delicacy here; everything is necessary. You feel his nails digging into your skin, as if he wants to mark you, making it clear that you belong to him—at least for this night. This overwhelming blend of pain and pleasure only fuels your craving for more.

You reciprocate with equal intensity, your hands roaming over his body, pulling him closer, as if mere proximity will never be enough. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as he trails kisses down your neck, each touch igniting a fire within you.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asks breathlessly, pulling back from the kiss. “I don’t want to fuck you in the living room, not for the first time.”

You shiver and point to the door of your bedroom.

He flashes a teasing smile, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom as your breath quickens. As soon as Cooper opens the door, he sets you down on the bed with a firm motion, standing tall as he admires your body. His gaze lingers on every curve and detail, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his shorts, a thrill coursing through you, mixing anticipation and desire.

“Just look at you,” he murmurs, a hungry glint in his eyes. “I can't wait to have you.”

He moves closer to you, hovering above, the heat of his body pressing down on yours, and you find yourself completely surrendered. “You have no idea the things I’ve done imagining this moment,” he touches your skin. “Knowing you’re here completely for me is more than enough to drive me crazy with desire to enter you,” he whispers as he brings his lips to your ear and bites your earlobe.

Every movement he makes is calculated, precise, as if he knows exactly where to touch, where to provoke, to leave you on the edge of losing control. A simple nibble on your ear has you ready for what’s to come. He glides his mouth down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, sending a shiver through you that makes you involuntarily arch your back. His breath is heavy against your skin, each exhale a reminder of who’s in control here, and it’s not you.

“You like being followed, don’t you?” he says, looking you in the eyes, his hands squeezing your thighs as you become completely inert under his gestures. “You like knowing it’s me watching you… that it’s me who wants you completely.” Cooper lifts your shirt, quickly removing it and leaving you bare from the waist up. He bites his lip at the sight of you, seeming to guess that you already knew he would come today.

His voice makes you tremble, but it’s the touch—his firm fingers exploring every part of your body, every curve—that takes your breath away. His hands are everywhere, demanding, marking territory, as if he wants to engrave on your skin that you belong to him. Now, your breasts are his property too, and Koch makes sure you know it as he starts to suck on them with brutality.

This is going to leave so many marks tomorrow. It’s the only thing you can manage to think about.

“Cooper…” you say, breathless and with a voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, a low, husky laugh, before pressing his lips hard against yours, the kiss filled with possession, with repressed desire. When his lips pull away, he cradles your face with one hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes, which burn with intensity. “You can tell me to stop… but I know you won’t” he says provocatively, looking at you so deeply that you forget to breathe.

You know you don’t want to stop either.

He leans in, his teeth now nibbling at your shoulder, while his hands explore every part of you, quick and decisive. His fingers find your bare skin, gripping possessively, and the pressure of his bite intensifies the pleasure. His dominance is absolute, and you feel lost with every touch.

When he finally moves down, trailing slowly along your belly with a teasing slowness, his gaze never leaves yours, each second thick with tension. He watches you, savoring every reaction, as if he has total control over your body and mind. His hands pin your wrists against the mattress, his eyes sparkling with pure need.

“Now, you’re mine; don’t try to deny it or do anything you’ll regret,” Cooper says softly, but you know it’s not a lie.

“I won’t, Cooper,” your voice dripping with desire. “Do whatever you want with me,” it sounds more like a plea than a request, and he doesn’t hesitate to agree.

As if confirming your words, he carefully removes your pants while keeping you pinned beneath him, his eyes burning with uncontrollable desire. You’re now just in your panties, and he’s trembling more and more with growing lust for you. Without taking his eyes off you, he pulls down his own pants, tossing them somewhere in your room. He places light kisses along your intimate area, and you almost beg him to claim you already.

As if reading your thoughts, Cooper finally positions his tongue at the entrance to your pussy, his tongue is hot, making you arch your back a little. He explores every inch, as if he is reaffirming the possession he has just declared. The touch of his tongue is both teasing and possessive, and each movement makes you lose control a little more.

Now, he also plays with his fingers inside you, starting with one and increasing to 3 as he hears your moans get louder and louder, you couldn't control yourself seeing that man possessing you like that. To the same extent that he is ecstatic to taste you, and to know that you were fragile like that just for him.

"Cooper… I think I'm going to…" his voice becomes low, almost inaudible and he immediately stops what he was doing.

"No, darling. You only cum when I think the time is right" he has a more dominant tone, apparently he's decided that he's in charge of you tonight and you're not capable of disagreeing.

Cooper gets off of you, standing up and removing all the clothes from his body. You can't help but notice the size of his dick when he takes off his underwear. He knows you're looking, so he starts touching his own member, in an attempt to make you even more crazy with pleasure - which works. He covers the entire length of his dick with his hands, making back and forth movements as he looks at you nibbling on your mouth and completely naked to him.

As if in fright, Cooper comes to you on the bed and turns you on your side, maintaining full control of the situation, a firm hand on your hip as he whispers hoarsely into your ear:

"I know you like this. My control." he whispers. "Don't think you're in charge of anything, I'm the only one who touches you today."

He guides you, positioning your body as he wants, you get on all fours for him, you could feel his cock brushing close to your entrance. His heavy breathing on your neck, his lips drawing a trail of heat across your skin. You feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, and there's no denying the growing tension, which only increases with each touch.

Without hesitation, he bites your neck, hard enough to make you let out an involuntary moan. His hands tighten around your waist, and he pulls you closer, placing himself inside you without any prior warning. You were already completely wet, it didn't take much effort for him to fit inside you without difficulty. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they already knew the path by heart.

"You like being mine, don't you? Being taken like this, without any choice." he says as he thrusts his member into you and you moan in agreement. His body moves against yours, in a slow rhythm, but full of tension, as if he was enjoying every second, teasing, stretching the pleasure to the limit. His touch is at the same time soft and hard, his fingers firm as they explore more, intensifying the contact, drawing breathy sighs from you.

Each movement is a new peak of intensity, and the control he exerts over you drives you insane. Cooper continues to guide you, holding your body as if molding it to his, his fingers pressing your skin harder, sometimes leaving bites and slaps on your body that would remain as marks for a long time. "You'll remember me when you see these marks, that's why I make them" he whispers in your ear, letting out a low chuckle.

His words are like a trigger, and the heat that builds between you is uncontrollable. The pace increases, the control intensifies, and you find yourself completely surrendered to desire. Your bodies move together, and there is no more hesitation.

“Ride me” his voice is breathy when he orders you. It's like a hypnosis process, you don't say anything and just obey. He removes his erect dick from inside you, catching you very easily and placing himself underneath you.

You adjust yourself on top of him. Maybe now, you would be the one in charge of the situation and that makes you wetter and thirstier with desire. You start with slow movements, but Cooper's hands are faster and hold your hips, making him in control again. The moans they both let out are uncontrollable, it's not clear which moan is louder. Both of you are in a dispute over who feels more pleasure in this situation, you scratch Cooper's chest while he grabs your hips very tightly.

"Fuck" he lets out amidst moans. “Feeling you feels so good…” he said as you rode faster and faster. He wouldn't last much longer there and you knew that even you weren't capable, it had been long enough since you had both had sex with someone else. Cooper was waiting for you. Another person wouldn't supply what he wanted to do with you, what he was already doing with you.

Amidst all the waves of heat that were being emanated from both of you, Cooper came inside you. It wasn't his plan. He was frustrated for a moment, but he couldn't resist the face you made when you realized he had filled you. "Did you like that?" he teased.

You nodded as you bit your lip. "But you didn't make me come…" you gave a naughty smile, you knew that would make him furious and that was what you wanted. Cooper narrowed his eyes, the teasing smile you gave him igniting something even more intense in him. The frustration he felt at losing control quickly turned into a domineering energy, as if your every word encouraged him to further prove the dominance he had over you.

Without saying anything else, he pulled you back towards him with controlled force, his fingers squeezing your waist as he turned you onto your stomach. His face got closer to your ear, his breathing hot and heavy and he pressed his body against yours, his hands quickly went down your back, exploring every inch with more intensity. His touch was no longer gentle, and you knew he wouldn't stop until he heard what he wanted from you.

Firmly, he leaned into you, each movement calculated to prolong your anticipation. His fingers played with your pussy, making you moan louder and louder and demonstrating how completely you were in that man's hands.

He didn't need any more words. His touch, firm and determined, moved with precision, each second taking you deeper into pleasure. He alternated his fingers and you felt more and more fragile, closer and closer to reaching your limit. The way he moved you, it was as if he was in complete command of your body, bringing you even closer to the edge.

Your breathing hitches as your body responds to each touch. He intensified the pace, each movement becoming faster and deeper. His body began to arch, the sounds that escaped his lips mixed with his heavy breathing. Cooper, realizing you were on the brink, held your hips even tighter, the controller in his hands. The climax came like an explosion, your body shook, and you lost yourself in the moment, you were already completely surrendered to him. He smiled victoriously and removed his fingers, leaving you lying on the bed with your breath hitching.

While the heat of the moment was still dissipating, Cooper began to stand up, quickly adjusting his clothes, as if returning to that calm face. You watched him in silence, your body still throbbing from what had just happened, not knowing exactly how to react or what to say. If anything needed to be said.

"Take me to the door, beautiful. I have to go," he told you with a charming smile and a light voice, almost unrecognizable from the Cooper of moments ago, and you just nodded.

He grabbed the jacket tossed in the corner of the room and followed you to the front door. He was already stepping out when the words slipped from your lips, an attempt to make sense of what it all meant.

"I guess now you stop following me," you said hesitantly.

Cooper paused at the door, his hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t turn to face you right away. He let out a low, almost mocking laugh, and then finally turned slightly, his gaze fixed on you over his shoulder.

"It’s not that easy to get rid of me."

He stepped closer, his eyes darkening with a hint of something that made you shiver. Then, he recited, in a low and deep voice, the lyrics of the song that had echoed in his mind from the start:

"Every breath you take, every move you make... I'll be watching you."

Before you could respond, he slowly opened the door. The sound of his footsteps descending the stairs echoed through the hallway, each step taking him further away, yet leaving a lingering sense that this was far from over.

You stood there, frozen at the door, breathless as you processed his words, the melody of the song almost reverberating in your head. Even with him out of sight, the impact of Cooper’s presence still hung in the air, as if he had never truly left.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

hey, angels! i hope you all enjoyed it. i don’t have much practice writing this kind of stuff, but i noticed not a lot of people were doing fanfics about Cooper, so I decided to give it a shot. About the English: it’s not my first language, so I used a translator for a lot of things!

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #31

31. Free For All - Voyeurism (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

a/n: 1.4k words of pure porn to round off the season. this one goes out to @eupheme who, when asked what she wanted to see for my final Kinktober, said more of Logan watching. so I was happy to deliver 😌 Thank you to everyone who's been commenting, and reblogging! I love you all!

Logan has learned a lot since moving in with Wade.

He’s learned that he can live with other people, but maybe he shouldn’t. It’s a good day if he doesn’t dismember the merc to be honest, what with the way he runs his mouth all the damn time. (He wonders if this was something he really learned though, or something he picked up at the mansion which has become solidified after tripping over Wade’s abandoned suit one too many times).

But he’s also learned that he likes the sound of life around him, Althea making her coffee, the rumble of traffic outside, the neighbours’ chatter in the hallway. He’s learned he enjoys being touched. Oh, how he loves being touched. Wade’s hand on his bicep for just a beat too long to be friendly when the two of them are laughing about something, your hand brushing against his when he’s helping you with the dishes.

Touches, yeah. 

And he’s also learned that he likes to look.

His eyes will settle heavy on you and Wade when you kiss. He watches the way Wade will press a hand to the back of your head to keep you in place, the way your fingers will snake up his abdomen and come to rest on the mottled skin of your boyfriend’s chest. The way Wade’s tongue will slip into your mouth.

The way you smile while biting it.

And you both know he loves to watch the two of you, and you’ve both done nothing to discourage it. In fact, from the way he finds the two of you practically dry-humping on the couch every other day, you’re both enjoying it as much as he is. Is it the being observed that gets you off, or the fact that it’s him doing the watching? Logan thinks maybe both, from the way you’ll rub your ass up against Wade’s bulge and then, in tandem, the two of you will turn to look at him.

He’s probably getting too old for this shit. But he can’t stop. Doesn’t want to, honestly.

The night begins quietly, the three of you bundled up on the sofa to watch a movie. Something action-based, lots of explosions, women in tiny shorts and fast cars. At some point you moved yourself into Wade’s lap and started cuddling up together, and Logan can’t deny that he felt a pang of… something in his chest when the chasm on the sofa opened and he lost the closeness of other bodies to his.

But then you started rubbing Wade’s dick over his sweats and Logan’s attention was caught.

“Someone’s feeling frisky tonight, huh?” Wade mutters into your ear as you shift yourself to be chest-to-chest with him. You giggle and press your mouth to his, luxuriating in a long and passionate kiss. Logan feels blood pump through his body at a mile a minute. The film is forgotten about immediately. 

“Mmm, just wanna fuck you on the couch, baby,” you sigh against his lips, reaching out to catch one between your teeth and nibble at it. Wade moans in your mouth and the two of you look over to Logan.

“Oh, Logan won’t mind, will you, Lo?” you breathe. Logan feels his jeans get tighter as your voice makes him half-hard, the promise of a show.

A beat.

All he can do is grip his beer bottle and nod his consent.

“Do it,” he growls. You and Wade both grin and continue.

Wade’s hands come to the hem of your shirt and lift it up, and holy fuck you aren’t wearing a bra. Logan watches the way the mercenary starts sucking at your nipples, bringing one and then the other between his lips, cementing the nickname of Mouth. He moans around the soft skin of your breast in a way which has you bucking up into him.

“Fuck, baby, did you do this on purpose? Not wear anything under your shirt because you wanted to show off for our Peanut, here?”

The giggle you let out is all the answer that’s needed, and suddenly Logan is aware that he’s rocking into the meat of his own palm. The friction of the denim is just rough enough to get him a little harder, keep him teased. Wade cocks his head.

“So if I reached down here…”

His hand dips below the belt of your jeans and he groans.

“No panties? Baby, you’re killing me here…”

“Can’t blame me for wanting ease of access. Took all my strength not to wear a skirt and bend over all evening. A preshow, I guess,” you hum, as Logan watches the way Wade works his fingers in and out of you beneath your pants. When the merc pulls back to inspect, they’re covered to the knuckle in slick.

In an act he isn’t expecting, Wade holds them out to Logan.

“Want a taste of her?”

Logan stops fucking up into his own hand for a moment, so shocked by the blatant filth of it… but when he sees the way the two of you look at him, with twinned wide-eyed expressions of hope and pure lust…

He opens his mouth and licks Wade’s fingers clean. As he does, he hears you both mutter a ‘fu-uu-uck’. 

“I didn’t say stop,” says Logan, pulling away and nodding at you. Wade scrambles to undo your jeans and you’re all too eager to help, sitting naked in his lap within seconds. Logan takes a beat to admire the shape of your body, pretty thing, especially the warm wet cunt between your legs that Wade is currently circling with those drenched fingers.

“Seeing as honey badger got me nice and ready for you…” he sighs, pressing them inside your hole. You gasp and drop your forehead to Wade’s shoulder, allowing him to fuck you with his hand for a moment, the noise loud and obscene in a total betrayal of how wet you are. Damn, you’re just as filthy as Wade. Logan opens his mouth to verbalise this but only lets out a moan as you slip Wade from his sweats.

Wade’s cock is about what he imagined, though he’d never confess to imagining it at all. Curved, decently thick, bobbing against his stomach in eagerness as you spit on it from above. You jerk him off for a couple of strokes before pressing his head up against your soaked cunt. You’ve left wet patches on his sweats, staining light grey dark with your arousal. Proof that this is happening.

Logan is ravenous as he undoes his fly and takes his cock into his hand properly, starting to rock into the calloused grip of his fingers as you sink down on Wade. All three of you groan in pleasure, and Logan cannot rip his eyes away from how you begin to ride. Your hips move in erratic, hurried movements, your cunt taking Wade to the tip and then all the way back inside over and over, a practised and hypnotic motion. Logan only distracts you briefly, holding out his upturned palm.

“Spit, sweetheart,” he breathes, ragged. When you catch on you’re all too happy to do what he asks, dripping saliva onto his hand - but more importantly so is Wade, who winks as he spits at the same time you do. Logan growls but not with irritation but pure adrenaline, wrapping his newly lubricated hand around his dripping cock and fucking himself for dear life, the speed of his strokes matching yours on Wade. Dripping with a cocktail of you both.

“Oh baby, fuck, I’m gonna…” you breathe. Wade digs his fingers so hard into the flesh of your ass it’ll leave marks.

“Fuck, yeah. Absolutely. Come on my cock and make me never be able to look at this sofa without popping a boner again… but do it while looking at Logan over there, okay?”

You and Wade drag your eyes away from each other to let them settle on Logan. It’s too much. He feels his orgasm ripping through him and Logan comes in white jets all over his hand, a bitten-off roar escaping straight from his chest. From the noises at the other end of the couch, the two of you aren’t far behind either.

And then for a moment, there’s silence.

“Happy Halloween,” Wade murmurs, dropping a kiss to your collarbone while his cum drips out of your cunt. This draws out a giggle from you.

“Mm. Wanna go again?” you ask, eyes darting between the two men on the couch. Logan feels himself twitch again and knows he’s in for a long evening.

[thebluemallet]

My Favorite Portia Featherington Moments

Throughout all three seasons of Bridgerton, Portia Featherington has been a complicated character. On the surface, she's completely unlikeable. She treats Penelope poorly. Her fashion sense is excessively gaudy. And she seems either unaware or willfully ignorant of the social faux pas she makes from day to day.

But she is also a survivor who was dealt a shit hand in life with her useless husband. And she did what she had to do to ensure the safety and well-being of her daughters in desperate times. So here are a few of my favorite Portia moments.

10- Showing Marina What Her Future Holds

When Portia finds out that Marina is pregnant, her first instinct is to protect her girls and her family's reputation. She wants to send Marina away and back to the country but she can't because of her useless husband's dealings. George hasn't answered Marina's letter telling him about her condition. Without knowing that George's fate has already been sealed, Marina's insistence that George will come for her seems naive--especially to Portia.

When Marina refuses to even entertain the idea of being married off quickly to an older man in need of an heir who won't ask too many questions, Portia, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, shows Marina what her life will be if she continues to hold out for George.

It's a much-needed wake-up call but it does not work on Marina. The forged letter may have seemed cruel at the time, but if I were in Portia's shoes, I would have assumed the worst of George, too.

9- Confronting Her Husband

When Lord Featherington puts a premature end to the courtship between Albion Finch and his middle daughter Philippa, Portia is outraged. A man has taken an interest in one of their daughters, seems besotted with her, and wants to marry her. What possible objections could there be?

When she tries to press him for answers in public, Lord Featherington uses his position as a man and a husband to silence her. But when Portia uncovers that he has gambled away all of their money--including their daughters' dowries--her husband is revealed for the sniveling coward that he is. Outside of the eyes of society, he is a weak man who can't curtail his vices even for the well-being and future of his family.

They may not like each other, but even Portia wasn't expecting this level of betrayal from her husband.

Cry those crocodile tears, Archibald! I don't feel sorry for you whatsoever. I'm Team Portia on this one.

8- "You find things to love, my dear."

Even a blind man could tell that Portia and Archibald were not a love match. She married him for security and he failed to even provide that. But she managed to find silver linings in the many clouds of her marriage.

Her talk with Marina in the final episode of season 1 gives the audience more insight into the kind of woman Portia is and how strong she had to be to endure her marriage with her late husband for so long. It's the kindest and most motherly we've seen her be all season. And her talk gives Marina the final push she needs to do what needs to be done to protect her babies.

Portia, as we'll see, is better off without her deadbeat husband. She has more strength than she gave herself credit for in this scene. And she has the three best things her husband gave her by her side.

7- "I am a MOTHER."

After the death of Archibald, the Featherington women are in financial stasis until the new Lord Featherington finally shows up. When Cousin Jack finally arrives some things are starting to look up. But he is making some questionable decisions right off the bat.

Portia is, once again, at the mercy of a Featherington man who makes piss-poor financial decisions when Cousin Jack comes into the picture.

She navigates the situation as best as she can, even getting into his fraudulent gemstone scheme when she's backed into a corner with no way out. Desperate times, desperate measures.

After Colin uncovers the scheme and Cousin Jack proposes not only running away from the country, but even leaving Prudence and Penelope behind and sending for them later, Portia has had enough. If you think this woman would ever seriously consider abandoning her daughters to save her own skin, then you don't know her at all.

Portia doesn't always make the right decisions. Portia doesn't always say the right things. Portia is far from a perfect mother. But she'll ALWAYS choose her daughters over mediocre men who only care for themselves, and for that, I'll love her forever for showing Cousin Jack the door.

6- Sex-Ed With Philippa and Prudence

The moment Philippa said that she and Albion were "very passionate" I KNEW that we were in for some comedic gold.

And I was RIGHT.

At first, Portia thinks her biggest problem with the Featherington Heir Race is Prudence. But at least she can relate to Prudence's problem of not enjoying the marital act. Poor Portia's not even aware that it can be enjoyable for both parties.

But to her horror, BOTH of her married daughters are the problem. Prudence isn't having sex because she doesn't like it and Philippa isn't having sex because she has no idea what it is.

You can see the wheels turning in both Prudence's and Portia's heads when Philippa asks that infamous question.

If Lady Featherington went home that night and screamed into her pillows, I wouldn't blame her.

5- Chaperoning Polin

Portia's finally realized that she's been a little lax with chaperoning Penelope over the years. No matter, she'll make up for it now and chaperone her daughter when her fiancee comes for a visit!

Colin and Penelope are just not used to having a chaperone and they have no idea how to conduct themselves with one in the room. Colin looks downright annoyed every time he sees Portia out of the corner of his eye. Penelope's staring at his lips the whole time and probably wants Colin to compromise her again right there on the window seat.

But the real comedy of this scene is knowing that Penelope is already pregnant. So the chaperoning was too little, too late.

4- Finally Bonding With Violet

For most of the series, Portia and Violet have gotten along like oil and water. They're not great friends like Penelope, Colin, and Eloise. They don't hang out at social events. Portia is envious of the Bridgertons and their social clout. Violet barely tolerates Portia on a good day. And as much as Violet loves Penelope, you can tell in 3x05 and 3x06 that she's not looking forward to having Portia as an in-law.

But when Colin and Penelope are on the outs just before their wedding, the two mothers have finally found some common ground.

3- Handling Lady Whistledown

I was not expecting Cressida to actually tell Portia that Penelope was Lady Whistledown. I thought she'd make a vague comment that Penelope would have to play off as nothing and then she would work with Colin and Eloise to overcome the Cressida threat.

But no, Cressida really tells Portia.

The threat of Cressida's blackmail hanging over her daughter's head and what this could mean for the Polin marriage is enough for Portia's protective mother instincts to kick in and she teams up with Colin and Eloise to find a solution and protect Penelope.

And she gets extra brownie points from me because one of her first reactions to learning about Whistledown is to point out that Penelope was the one to write horrible things about herself. ("The things you wrote! About your family! About yourself!")

Yes, Portia's angry about Penelope's secret and what she's done as Whistledown, but she puts that anger on the back burner for a short time while she tries to navigate her family through their latest crisis. To paraphrase what she said to Cousin Jack at the end of last season: she and Penelope are on the same team.

2- Portia and Penelope Finally Talk

Portia might have put her anger to the side when she found out about Whistledown, but it returns when Penelope finds out that Portia kept the money Cousin Jack had embezzled from the ton.

Portia and Penelope finally have it out and mother and daughter realize that they are more alike than they had previously realized or were even willing to admit.

1- Portia as a Grandmother

Portia started out the season anxious that none of her daughters would have a son and secure their family's future. By the end of the season, she's a grandmother to two granddaughters and one grandson--the new Lord Featherington. Her family's future is finally secure at last.

Now that she has her grandchildren, Portia will finally be able to relax a little. It must have been hard being in survival mode for so long. Now she can enjoy her life and watch all three of her daughters have marriages filled with love and happiness.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Can you do David Rossi’s son who’s about 20-25 and is in the army then comes back to surprise his dad (somewhere is season four) and everyone other than Aaron (who is his uncle) has eyes on him and thinks he’s smoken hot

David Rossi X son reader

Request: Can you do David Rossi’s son who’s about 20-25 and is in the army then comes back to surprise his dad (somewhere is season four) and everyone other than Aaron (who is his uncle) has eyes on him and thinks he’s smoken hot 

Third person pov...

Rossi always brags about his Son to the team, they know how proud the old man is off his son, the 23 year old had joined the army as soon as he left highschool.

As Agent David Rossi walked into the BAU headquarters, he was met with the usual busy atmosphere. His team members were scattered around the room, each engrossed in their own tasks. Rossi took a moment to take in the familiar surroundings before making his way to his office.

As he settled in his chair, his phone buzzed with a text from his son, Damien. Rossi’s face lit up with a smile as he read the message. Y/N was coming home on leave from the army and wanted to surprise his dad. Rossi couldn’t wait to see his son, who was now 23 years old and serving his country proudly.

Rossi had always been proud of Y/N who had joined the army straight out of high school. He had inherited his father's bravery and dedication to serving the greater good. Rossi made sure to brag about his son to the team whenever he came into town from college.

As the day went on, Rossi found it hard to focus on work as his mind was filled with excitement about seeing Y/N When it was finally time for him to leave for the day, he couldn’t contain his excitement any longer and announced to the team that his son was coming home.

The team was overjoyed, and they all gathered in the conference room to meet Y/N Rossi couldn’t help but smile as he watched his team interact with his son. Aaron Hotchner, who was Y/Ns uncle, gave him a tight hug while the others shook his hand or gave him a pat on the back.

After many hugs and handshakes Y/N finally got to hug his dad again. "Hi Papà, Sono a casa(1)"He whispers in Italian, his Dad smiles and hugs the young man back tightly.

"bentornato a casa, figliolo(2)" whispers Rossi, when the break awa they join in on the conversation

The H/C adult was not only in the army, but he was also studying at a prestigious university. He had inherited his father's intelligence and was excelling in his studies. As he talked about his experiences in the army and shared stories of his college life, everyone in the room couldn’t help but be captivated by him.

The team couldn’t deny that the man was indeed smoking hot. His H/C hair and piercing E/C eyes reminded them all of a younger version of Rossi. But it was his charm and easygoing personality that had everyone falling for him. Even Penelope Garcia, who had a soft spot for Rossi, couldn’t resist the young man's charm.

As the evening went on, Rossi and his son caught up on lost time. They shared stories and laughter, and Rossi couldn’t be prouder of his son. The team gathered around them, enjoying the father-son bond and feeling grateful to have Y/n as a part of the BAU family.

As they finished their shifts they took the homecoming to Rossis house, As the night went on, the house was filled with laughter and chatter.

Throughout the evening, everyone took turns talking to Y/N and learning more about the young man, with the team and his son bonding Rossi left to the kitchen.

He grabbed himself a drink and lent against the counter, a happy smile on his face. Hearing the laughter ans chatter from the living room brought love to his heart, it had been too long since his son was home.

As he stood he pulled out an old picture from his pocket, he smiles a sad smile at the picture, it was an old baby picture. Y/N 5 years old hugging his dad tightly.

Both had identical happy smiles on their faces, Rossi let's a few tears slip before he whipes then away, soon Hotch comes to find him.

"Y/n is a spitting image of you Dave" Rossi's best friend and coworker, Aaron Hotchner, said with a smile. From the living room they hear Penelope compliment the young man.

Rossi could see the blush on his sons face.blushed at the compliment, They continuted to bombarded him with questions about his life in the army and his plans for the future.

Dave smiles at the picture then looks at the man next to him. "That he has Hotch" smiles the older man.

Y/N quickly became popular amongst the team, and it was easy to see why. He was charismatic, charming, and had a great sense of humor.

Soon enough, it was time for Y/N  to leave, he had to get back to his head quarters, he had just come to see his Dad for a day. the team was sad to see him go. They had all become fond of him in just a few hours.

As the young man said goodbye to everyone and made his way to the door, Penelope Garcia gave him her signature big hug and whispered in his ear, 'Come back and visit us soon. You are one smoking hot soldier.'

Y/N couldn't help but laugh and promised to come back as soon as possible. The team said their goodbyes, promising to keep in touch with the H/C young man.

As he left, the team couldn't stop talking about him and how much they all liked him. David Rossi was beaming with pride as he watched his son walk out of his home It was a pleasant surprise, indeed.

The end!

Hey guys so sorry for the wait and for not updating in ages. Last time was December fucking hell, I've been busy with my classes for college, the project I'm doing now is a alot of work but I will get through the requests I have!

Anyway hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1060

[blush-and-books]

QUESTION how does darvey compare to ur other ships?? i feel like their shared body language and the way they convey HISTORY is so unique ahaha

this is actually a great question and i would absolutely love to know your own other ships vs darvey, bc darvey is so different from so many of my ships!!!

i will say that joyce x hopper from stranger things is probably the only ship i have that even comes close to having any similarities to donna and harvey because of that sense of shared history, partnership, and platonic support leading into romantic support. but for the rest of my ships, it's like so opposite.

one of my main ships that is one of my most tagged ships on my blog is Julie and Luke from the netflix series Julie and the Phantoms!!! this series devastatingly only got ONE SEASON but had a huge following on tumblr. compared to donna and harvey's nine seasons and canonical 13 years of buildup, that inherently makes the ships very different, because Julie and Luke do not become "canon" (although mutual romantic feelings are made pretty darn clear). Julie and Luke have history together in an offhanded way - Luke is a ghost, and when he was 17, he actually met a young Julie's mom before she had Julie, and then he died, got trapped in purgatory(?) for 25 yrs, and then was brought back into the world as a ghost where he met Julie (after her own mom had passed away). This has resulted in a LOT of theories regarding them being soulmates - their characters mirror each other so well to the point that the colors of their costuming is often matching or inverted to each others clothing. They both have an undying love for music, mommy issues, and they fit together like two peas in a pod. Literally there's only one season of buildup, and there are over 3,000 works of fanfiction for them on ao3. Julie and Luke truly couldn't be more different lmao, because a lot of the magic that comes from them is a sense of destiny, inevitability, and their instant ability to be vulnerable with each other. With Donna and Harvey, the romance comes from the steadfast partnership and daily choice they make every day to choose each other.

Another big ship of mine is Anne and Gilbert from Anne with an E (or the whole Anne of Green Gables book series lol, but them in the AWAE tv adaptation is so good)!! They have a good amount of buildup and a sense of choosing each other, but the stakes are nowhere near as high as they are in Suits. Gilbert is so down bad for Anne the whole time. He's so the perfect man that I have a framed photo of him in my home. The TV show introduces us to their plotlines and character arcs as parallel tracks as they are finding their way through life and eventually meeting at the same place, whereas Donna and Harvey are definitely just on their own crazy journeys until they crash into each other and are finally in a place to be together. However, a very silly parallel that Anne/Gilbert has with Donna/Harvey is there is a sequence of Person B running to Person A when they realize that they're meant to be together. And Person A is a redhead.

Other ships I have are like Nina and Fabian from House of Anubis, or Zuko and Katara from ATLA. Also Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett from P&P. I think a lot of my ships involve the man blatantly worshipping the ground that the woman walks on and constantly being complimentary and admiring of her; where we get only crumbs of that kind of dynamic with Donna and Harvey. Harvey definitely thinks, and has stated as such, that Donna is the most amazing woman he's ever met, but because Donna and Harvey are not thee main plotline of the show or even arguably the main relationship (when compared to Mike and Rachel), there's a lot less room for there to be blatant moments where Harvey is like "wow she's amazing!!!" because he's just not that guy.

please also let me know your thoughts on this and what ships you have!!! do we share any?

also, my response to your domestic!Darvey ask is still unfortunately in the works. i just want you to know i did not forget about it!!! <3333

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: "Destiny"/"The Winter King" (Fionna & Cake, Eps. 5–6)

Airdate: September 14, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Jacob Winkler, Sonja von Marensdorff

Directed by: Ryann Shannon (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

One of my favorite moments from Adventure Time comes at the very end of season four's "The Lich" when we are introduced to "Farmworld" for the first time. When the episode aired, this reveal was positively huge, adding as it did a brand new reality to the already complex world of Ooo. The show would go on to expand our understanding of Farmworld in the season five premiere "Finn the Human"/"Jake the Dog" and the season seven episode "Crossover," but even with all those episodes, I never could shake the feeling that there was so much more the series could have done with Farmworld. You can thus imagine my surprise when I learned that Fionna and Cake of all people would be journeying to this strangely normal alternate dimension!

"Destiny" picks up with Fionna, Cake, and Simon landing in Farmworld, roughly 10 or so years after the events of "Crossover." Following the destruction of the Farmworld crown, things returned to their (post-apocalyptic) normalcy, and Ice-Finn (or, as the people in Farmworld call him, "The Snow Man") has grown into a strapping Man-Finn who is busy raising three children (his wife, it seems, has died). One of Finn's kids, Jay, overhears Fionna, Cake, and Simon asking around about the Farmworld crown, and so he steals them away to meet his father. Once Man-Finn discovers what it is Simon and Co. seek, however, he bids them to leave. Going against his father's wishes, Jay sneaks Fionna, Cake, and Simon to the crater where the Farmworld Bomb had detonated, where they all discover the charred remnants of the crown. At this point, Jay reveals that previously when visiting the crater, he had discovered one of the crown's jewels. The final act of the episode is a sees Fionna, Cake, Simon, Man-Finn, and Jay square off against the Destiny Gang and Scarab, who we learn has been trailing our heroes this whole time. After securing the jewel from Big D's turncoat daughter, Simon fuses it with Prismo's remote, zapping himself, Fionna and Cake to another reality just as Scarab stabs(?!) Man-Finn in the head.

First and foremost, I must stress that "Destiny" feels very much like an episode of the "original" Adventure Time. This is likely a result of the Farmworld setting: as a world, it is overflowing with an absurdist energy and out-there characters (e.g., Big D!) that I intimately associate with the adventures of Finn and Jake. And let me know emphatically state: This is not a bad thing. Not at all. I love how the producers have been able to weave the Adventure Time "feel" into something new. It is like meeting an old friend after a long time apart (only for that old friend to get stabbed in the head by a space-god).

OK, but seriously… did Farmworld Finn die? I hope note. If he did, that would mean that Jay's actions were directly responsible for his father getting killed. That's pretty dark. And considering all the bad dads in the Oooniverse, it would be nice if one of the good ones was allowed to live a (relatively) happy life.

Airdate: September 14, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Iggy Craig, Graham Falk, Jim Campbell, Lucyola Langi, Nicole Rodriguez

Directed by: Steve Wolfhard (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

After zapping away from Farmworld, Simon, Fionna, and Cake teleport to a reality ruled by the "Ice Prince"—an alt-universe Simon Petrikov who has somehow managed to avoid the madness that plagued Ice King. Simon quickly tells his fellow Petrikov the group's goals, and the Ice Prince gallantly agrees to help them by duplicating his own crown. Things are going swimmingly until the evil "Candy Queen" swoops in and snatches away both Simon and the Ice Prince. Fionna, Cake, and Ice Prince's guards dart to their rescue, brutally (but humorously) massacring dozens of hideously mutated candy citizens. Fionna and Cake rescue Simon and the Ice Prince, but once Fionna and Ice Prince share a kiss, the awful truth is revealed: Ice Prince is not some gentleman who overcame the madness of the crown through sheer will. No, he was a self-centered "wad" who used magic to deflect his madness onto the poor Candy Queen… who, as we quickly learn, is just an alternate universe version of Princess Bubblegum. Thanks to fairy tale logic, Fionna's kiss breaks Ice Prince's magic spell, which causes his crown to lose power. He subsequently crumbles to dust and everything he has created melts away.

So far, of the episodes we've gotten, I think "The Winter King" has been my favorite, largely because of the way it explores Simon's psychological character.

One thing that made Ice King’s story so tragic was how Simon, in his original form, was fundamentally a good person, buried deep within the mind of an outwardly "evil" wizard. "The Winter King" neatly conveys the opposite of this situation by showing us an Alt-Simon who, while outwardly "good," had long ago squandered his sense of morality for selfish gain. Not to get too analytical, but all of the good/bad talk reminds me of what the psychologist Carl Jung called the "Shadow." Put in simplest terms, the Shadow is a part of the unconscious human psyche in which repressed, rejected, or unrecognized aspects of the Self are contained, far from the light of conscious thought. The Shadow tends to seal away attributes of the Self that we wish to downplay or dismiss, making it "the home of the suppressed monsters of our inner world," in which "the energy of [our] dark side" bubbles (to quote Christopher Vogler). Furthermore, the Shadow exists as the inverse of our conscious Ego (meaning that, as Jung put it, "when one tries desperately to be good and wonderful and perfect, then all the more the shadow develops a definite will to be black and evil and destructive"). And because it is unconscious, the Shadow eludes easy detection. Nevertheless, its contents can often be ascertained by keeping an eye out for psychological “projection,” wherein a person denies their own foibles and instead recognizes those defects in others.

Now consider this topic in relation to "The Winter King." Let us start with Ice King, a hyperbolically crazy and "evil" wizard. I would argue that Ice King is a textbook of Simon's Shadow made manifest: He is everything that Simon consciously does not want to be brought to the surface in its entirety. The tragedy of Simon is that, while he doesn't often talk about it, he knows deep down that Ice King, while corrupted and warped by the crown, was an aspect of himself. In fact, this entire series feels very much like Simon’s journey to fully recognize his own Shadow.* And the fact that he starting to do this despite it being a painful process is, in my opinion, the clearest evidence of his ethical/moral character. Conversely, Alt-Simon is not like this. When presented with his Shadow, he does not choose to begin the painful recognition process. Instead, he projects it onto an innocent person; he builds up an elaborate "nice king" persona while literally condemning someone for his own sins. It is important to note that psychological projection is a pretty normal occurrence and thus not a surefire marker of "evil" or anything like that. What makes this instance of projection so bad is that Alt-Simon does this fully aware that it will cause someone to suffer for crimes they did not commit. Alt-Simon is like the "pious" archbishop who burns the "evil witches" at the stake all because he cannot come to terms with his own inner demons.

Now that is messed up!

But you know what isn't messed up? The voice acting in this episode. I do not say this to be hyperbolic: "The Winter King" may very well be Hynden Walch's finest performance to date. Her take on the Candy Queen is truly horrifying in a decidedly blursed way. So fundamentally different is her performance that at first I thought it was someone else! Also stealing the spotlight in this episode is Brian David Gilbert, erstwhile writer for Polygon and maker of many a wacky YouTube video. Gilbert's Ice Prince exudes the perfect amount of over-the-top flamboyance and faux chivalry. Both Walch and Gilbert get a song apiece in this episode, and both do a stellar job. (As an aside, have we ever had a true-blue PB song? Does the Candy Queen's song count?)

Oh, and as a quick aside: "The Winter King" features a few short scenes set in Fionna's non-magical world that follow Marshall Lee and Gary Prince as the latter tries to bake something that will earn him greater renown. Going into these scenes, I thought I would have found them a bit dull, but they were quite endearing. It's obvious that these scenes are a way for us to explore how Marceline and Bubblegum got to know one another, but from the parallax angle of a genderbent world, and I am here for it!

Final "Destiny" Grade: A

Final "The Winter King Grade": A

* My Prediction: Simon will attempt to become the Ice King, only to realize that a full-on transformation is not just necessary but ultimately dangerous. Recognizing one's Shadow does not mean you become synonymous with; it simply means that you know it's there.

[ooo-yeah-baby]

ok awesome thank you :)) could i please request a moody spurgeon x reader from AWAE (s2 era) where he’s lovesick and obsessed with the reader and is sure she’s his future wife? they’re friends, but not super close, and she says she’s not ready for marriage yet because she wants to go to queen’s college. so he forcibly kisses her and someone sees, leading both her and his parents to force them to marry. feel free to change any details if you’d like! thank you so so much ❤️

Lovely

Yandere Moody Spurgeon x Reader

I only write sfw, feel free to send asks, Yandere themes, forced kiss, forced marriage, vixen shaming, I don't know, it's long. I don't really like it after the Mrs. Linde part, I did season 3 Moody cuz the banjo was convenient. Thank you for the ask!!

You sound lovely!" Y/N spouted as the last string on Moodys banjo rung out. 

"You're lovely- err I mean... thank you." He stuttered, blush running to his cheeks.

He truly thought she was lovely. The way her hair swayed as she moved. The way her laugh sounded as it filled a room. The color of her eyes and the way they sparkled when the light hit them just right. The way she spoke, especially when she was answering a question. 

Y/N laughed a bit at his mess up. 

"Why, thank you, Moody." 

During class Moody would find his eyes wandering over to Y/Ns seat across the room. Sometimes he'd miss whole lessons, whole class days even, just staring at her. 

Moody may not have been the smartest but he had a wild imagination. He'd imagined Y/N in a beautiful wedding dress with a lace veil and a bouquet of wild flowers. Of course, he'd be wearing a hand-me-down suit from his parents. Maybe with something new added, like a small embroidery from his mother, or some cufflinks, who knows? She'd smile at him with a tint of blush on her cheeks as she walked with her father down the isle and he'd feel his heart pump a million beats a second and then- 

The school day would end and he'd have to watch her walk away. 

But during lunch she'd always sit and listen to him play his banjo before going to eat with the other girls. She was practically his during that time. 

"Y/N," Moody began one day while putting his Banjo down. "Would you like to eat with me today?" He asked, fidgeting with his fingers. 

She just smiled and nodded before running off to get her lunch. 

After that she began eating with him a few days out of the week. She'd grab her lunch and sit and listen to him play and laugh and talk with him. Moody felt content for a while. 

Only for a while. 

Then he got the idea that Y/N had fallen for him like he had fallen for her. Why wouldn't she? It just makes sense. They were practically already courting one another in his eyes. 

He thought she stared at him like he was the only boy in the world. He thought she smiled brighter when she was with him. He thought she loved him. 

He needed her to love him. 

Finally, while sitting with Y/N in the school house during lunch, he croaked up the courage to say something. 

"Y/N, will you marry me?" His eyes shut and his hands balled into clenched fists. 

Y/N was just about to take a bite of a 🍐  and stopped in her tracks at his request. Thankfully no one had heard Moodys proposal. 

"What?" Y/N asked, putting the fruit down. 

"W-will you marry me?" He reiterated. Y/N took a moment to reprocess the situation.

After what felt like ages to Moody she finally began to show somewhat of a reaction. Her head began shaking and she began speaking. 

"No. I'm sorry Moody." She looked down at her dress and fiddled with the hem of it. Moodys face flushed with a bright red color. 

"Why not?" He pressed. 

"It's nothing against you, Moody. It's just, well... we haven't even really courted, and Ill be leaving for Queens College soon and-" She thought for a moment, "I suppose I see you as more of a friend too, Moody." Every word she spoke dripped with her discomfort. She looked down and started cleaning up her lunch basket. Moody felt betrayed. What were they doing if not courting one another? And she sees him as more of a friend? Then why does she look at him like that? Being married won't stop her from going to college. Moody would never dream of holding her back. He just wanted to love her and for her to love him. To spend the rest of their lives together and grow old together. "I'm hardly ready for marriage any wa-!" Moodys hand reach behind Y/Ns head and he pulled her face in to his, practically clashing teeth with each other. Y/N pushed against him, moving her hands up to his chest, pressing as hard as she could and finally disconnecting their lips. 

Moody fell back to the floor with heavy breath and Y/N stared down at him furiously. 

This whole fiasco definitely did not go unnoticed by the class. Y/Ns face turned beat red, either from embarrassment, rage, or a mix of both, as she looked around the class at the other students ogling at her. 

She quickly stood up and gave Moody a swift kick in his shin before collecting her things and running out of the school house. 

Moodys hand reached up to one of the desk tables for support as he pulled himself up, noticing the many groups whispering about the incident. He felt a lump grow in his throat that he tried to swallow back while fixing his clothes, then he ran out of the school house, like Y/N had previously. 

If something were to happen in Avonlea the whole town would know about it. Whether from word of mouth or Mrs. Rachel Linde going around spreading the good, bad, and nasty news. Of course Y/Ns parents heard about what had happened from Mrs. Linde who had heard it from a group of students passing by her home. She immediately scurried herself over to the L/N little farm and shared her thoughts on the matter. 

"Well hello, Mrs. Linde." Y/Ns mother said as she opened her front door. Rachel came barging in the second she saw the door move. 

"Mrs. L/N." She greeted, already in the parlor of the white walled house. "I assume you've heard of..." she looked around for somewhere to place her hat and coat, spying the rack by the front door, then continued; "Your daughters little fiasco at the school house." She placed her hat and coat on the rack and moved to sit in one of the chairs in the parlor. 

Mrs. L/N took a seat across from Rachel and pushed out the rinkles of her dress. 

"No, what has she done now?" Her brows furrowed. Her daughter had never been apart of any of Rachel's rumors and it was discontenting to see it happening now. 

"Oh its a doosy." Her finger pointed at Mrs. L/N. "I heard the boys talking. Today, in front of the whole class she caused a spectacle." She had a short huff  before continuing again. "You know I'm not one to gossip, but as your friend I thought you needed to know. If your daughter is truly becoming a vixen then you have every right to know. Knock the devil out of her before it's too late-" 

"Please, just tell me what happened, Mrs. Linde." Your mother pleaded, slightly irked by Rachel's coarse language and accusations at her daughter. 

"Yes, well, I was sitting on my porch moments ago when I heard the Andrews and Sloane boy talking. According to them, your daughter was locking lips with that Moody Spurgeon boy in the middle of class. For everyone to see. Apparently they both ran out of the school house around noon together and haven't been back since. Took their things and all." 

Mrs. L/N was shocked to say the least. 

"Well, I suppose I'll have to have a word with my daughter. Thank you for informing me, Mrs. Linde." She stood up and ushers for Rachel to do so as well, which Rachel did oblige but she couldn't help herself from shoving her opinion in the mix, again. 

"You know, with how many people saw this fiasco, you might as well marry her off to that boy. It's the only chance she'll have at finding a husband under the circumstances. Word travels fast and no one is going to want a girl who's been throwing herself at men left and right." 

"Of course, Rachel." Mrs. L/N sighed. "I suppose that's our only option." Her hand moved to her temple and attempted to rub out her forming migraine. 

"Well. Keep me in on the loop." Rachel added before grabbing her things and leaving, more than likely to go spread the word to every end of Avonlea. 

About an hour after Mrs. Linde left Y/N, returned home. Mrs. L/N had already discussed the incident and what they needed to do with Mr. L/N and the two were waiting for their lovely, possibly a vixen, daughter to return home. The second y/n walked in the door they dragged her back out and ventured to the Spurgeon home. 

"I don't know what happened, Y/N, but this is unacceptable. No doubt Rachel's gone and told all of Avonlea by now." Her mother chattered. 

"It's not my fault!" 

Mrs. L/N scoffed in response. 

"Well, there isn't much we can do about it now. Your fault or not, it happened. And now you're becoming a laughing stock. We'll have to fix this somehow, with the Spurgeon family." 

They arrived at the house, Y/N begrudgingly stepping up to the porch with her family. They were invited in and the parents went to discuss matters. 

Y/N remained standing by the door as Moody stared at her, eyes filled with guilt. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N" he mumbled. He wasnt actually sorry but he didnt exactly know what else to say. 

"Sorry wont fix this, Moody. You were supposed to be my friend. Now my reputation is ruined. I'll have to leave the island to get married with the way Mrs. Linde has been reacting." Y/N huffed in response. 

Meanwhile, in the other room;

"My son kissed your daughter. He told us everything. He will take responsibility. Whatever you think is best." Mrs. Spurgeon assured. 

"Well I'd like to believe my daughter had no hand but I was her age once too." Mrs. L/N shook her head. "I suggest we give the two what they want and settle it that way. It's easier on us and easier on them." 

Mrs. Spurgeon nodded in response and the two treked back to the front room. 

"You two will marry." Mrs. L/N said, an unwarranted smile plastered her face. 

"What?" The two kids said in unison, one clearly more excited about it than the other. 

"It makes the most sense." Mrs. Spurgeon added.

"Makes the most sense?" Y/N stepped up. "How does that make any sense?" 

"Bite your tongue, dear." Her mother warned. "It's not likely that you'll he able to find anyone else now is it?" Her mother continued to press. "Clearly you must enjoy Moodys presence in some capacity or you wouldn't have been near him to begin with. This is our final decision." 

"But Queens College!" Y/N huffed. "I'm taking the entrance exam soon!" 

"You can still go!" Moody chimed in. A scowl crept to Y/Ns' face but Moody pressed on, taking a step forward to continue his soon to be ramble. "I-I would never hold you back. You can go to Queens College and Ill go to college too and then we can be married after we both graduate."

"Very good, Moody." His mother congratulated. "That's what we'll do." 

And with that, the two were engaged. It was all over Avonlea. Y/N had her reputation back and Moody had her, although Y/N tried tirelessly to break the engagement.

[lineycantdance]

AwaE's "Tale of the Magical Island" play

In the the sixth episode of Season 2 of Anne with an E entitled "I Protest Against Any Absolute Conclusion," the community of Avonlea comes together to put on the annual Christmas Pantomime. In this meta, I offer my analysis of this story within a story.

Not only does the plot of the panto draw heavily upon the story of Adam and Eve, but in my interpretation, it also allegorically serves as a way for Avonlea to use the medium of the theatre to process and come to grips with the threat that the grifters posed to their "magical island" community.

First, a brief synopsis of the play:

The opening number introduces the audience to an agrarian community residing on a "Magic Fantastical Island." Our hero, a farm boy, encounters a Fairy Princess who, seeing The Boy's hard work and goodness, bestows upon him a Golden Apple Tree which he vows to faithfully protect. A Dame happens upon the Golden Apple Tree and asks The Boy to hand her one of its fruits, but he refuses. When the Dame steals an apple, the Devil Lobster appears accompanied by a catchy tune. Things seem bleak when the Devil Lobster gets ahold of one of the apples, but a Prince on a noble steed arrives to vanquish the evil foe. However, the Devil Lobster thwarts the Prince by crushing his sword in his claws. As stormy skies swirl overhead, The Boy digs a large Black Hole with his trusty shovel and tricks the Devil Lobster into falling in. The hole swallows up the Devil Lobster, the day is saved, and they all lived happily ever after!

The Panto as Allegory for the Grifter Arc:

Ultimately, this play tells a simple story in which good triumphs over evil with a moral about resisting temptation and the perils of greed.

I would like to call attention to the fact that the apples are painted gold. Like their edenic counterpart, they symbolize sin and temptation, but in the context of this allegory, they also represent the enticing prospect of finding gold in Avonlea.

One of the Prince's lines suggests that if the Devil Lobster got his hands on the golden apples, it would bring spoil and rot upon the town's land ("You think you can turn our land into rot?/ I'm the unconquerable prince, lest you forgot!"). This parallels the threat that the mining operation posed to Avonlea—digging up the earth in the hopes of finding gold would have defiled the land and brought environmental destruction to the small farming town.

The Devil Lobster is defeated by falling into the Black Hole—this bears a striking resemblance to how Mr. Dunlop was ultimately caught by the townsfolk in S2E3 after he fell down the mining shaft at Nate's dig site.

It's significant that The Boy is the one who digs the hole to stop the Devil Lobster. The Boy represents the every child, and more specifically, the youth of Avonlea. While the adults of the town were easily swindled by Nate and Mr. Dunlop's gold scheme, it was children, specifically Anne, Diana, and to some extent Jerry, who were able to see through the grifters' ruse, put all the pieces together, and try to stop them from getting away with their scheme.

The version of events rendered in the play puts a more heroic spin on the role The Boy plays in thwarting the evildoer. He actively sets a trap for the Devil Lobster using the pivotal prop—a shovel—to do so. Since a shovel is a tool of excavation, this reflects how the excavation site Nate initially used to stage his con became a trap and holding place for Dunlop when their ruse came crashing down.

In reality, our child heroes were not so active nor successful in thwarting Nate and Dunlop. Only Dunlop was captured whereas Nate got away with the money. After their sleuthing in Charlottetown, Anne and Diana tried to warn the Barrys about what they'd discovered, but Diana's mother wouldn't hear any of it. Anne told Marilla who thankfully believed her, but by then it was too late, and the two literally got tied up. Meanwhile, Jerry had his own moment of realization, finally recognizing the boarders as the thieves who mugged him and stole his money in the finale of season 1. He tried to throw a punch at Nate, but got beat up again and fell unconscious. Mr. Dunlop only fell into the hole, not by any of the children's doing, but because he and Nate turned against each other.

The play credits the children as the real heroes in the story and offers a happier ending than the real version of events in which the community is still reeling from the financial blow of the con, lingering distrust—especially of outsiders—and feelings of regret and shame. In particular, we see how Marilla blames herself for inviting the boarders into their community and how the fallout of the the con hits the Barrys especially hard, manifesting as marital conflict between Diana's parents. The play's happier version of events helps the town process the ordeal they've gone through and imparts a moral they learned from the experience.

Each Character's Role in the Panto:

Anne as The Boy: Like the show itself, Anne is the protagonist of the play, our plucky hero. Her stepping into the role of The Boy was foreshadowed with her trip to Carmody earlier in the episode during which she dressed up like a boy. It's also fitting that Anne plays this part since she was the one who put all the clues together about the boarders' true intentions. The fact that Anne replaces Josie in the lead role of the play, as well as Matthew's last-minute substitution for Billy as the Owl, signifies that Anne and the Cuthberts are forces of progressive change in Avonlea.

Diana as the Fairy Princess: Most characters, including Anne, see Diana as the angelic image of a proper lady. She's generous, sweet, beautiful, and comes from a wealthy family. Like her Fairy Princess counterpart who awards The Boy for his hard work, Diana sees Anne's virtues even when others don't, and overall is a supportive and generous friend.

Matthew as the Owl: Matthew stepping into this role is foreshadowed in his flashback with his brother Michael in which a young Matthew can be seen whittling an owl figurine. Owls are associated with wisdom and true sight. This is a fitting choice for a narrator character in a play and also suits Matthew who demonstrates real wisdom.

Mr. Lynde as the Devil Lobster: In S2E2, a townsperson remarks that Mr. Lynde shows no moderation whatsoever as he piles his plate full of sweets. The Devil Lobster is the embodiment of greed and avarice and proclaims that he is "simply shimmering with sin." Tamatoa who? I only know the Devil Lobster! Also, it's clear that Rachel is super into seeing her husband acting a bit naughty and decided to have some fun with this casting choice.

The minister as the Fair Dame: Seeing the minister in drag is played for comedic effect. The Dame plays the part of Eve taking the apple from the Garden of Eden. While the minister was skeptical about the gold testing business, he did not dissuade the town's eagerness for material riches and therefore also shares responsibility for inviting avarice into Avonlea.

Mr. Phillips as the "Unconquerable" Prince: This is also played for laughs as it demonstrates Mr. Phillip's inflated sense of ego. He envisions himself as a gallant hero when in reality, he is anything but. The Prince is ineffectual at fighting off the Devil Lobster and runs away like a coward, much like how the adults and authority figures of Avonlea were completely bamboozled by the grifters.

Rachel Lynde as Queen Victoria: Perhaps a narcissistic casting choice on the part of Rachel, but let's be real, she was the artistic director behind this whole production and knocked it out of the park. Pop off, queen!

I hope you enjoyed this discussion of the "play within a play" in S2E6 of Anne with and E. This is probably my favorite episode in the whole series due to its many wholesome moments, especially Jerry giving Anne his Christmas card, Gilbert and Bash coming over to the Cuthbert's for Christmas dinner, and Matthew overcoming his stage fright. 10/10 would recommend. Of course the Christmas episode absolutely slaps!

[magneticflower]

My AWAE Fics

Anne with an E, would you be so kind as to distract me?

Staying home from school to be there for his father in his final days, Gilbert Blythe finds himself with a nearly daily visitor in none other than Anne Shirley Cuthbert. She simply wants to hand off the materials that Mr. Phillips insisted she deliver herself and be on her way, but Gilbert takes it upon himself to do his best to make her stay longer as a much needed distraction, if you will. Set in season 1

Dragons come in Many Forms, Even if the Knight Stays the Same

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert gets herself into another sticky situation when her curiosity gets the best of her and the printing press pays the price. She would most certainly not concede to being a damsel in distress, but let's just say it's a good thing that her knight always seems to have excellent timing. Set in Season 3

"I'm not exactly a Take Notice type of Guy."

What if Gilbert Blythe let his jealousy take over for once? What if he did want Anne suggested but changed the person it was? Basically, what if Gilbert Blythe decided he was a Take Notice type of guy if it was for the right girl. A twist on 3x01. (A part 2 for this is in the works-- yes, even though it has been a minute )

[bumblebeehug]

Lovely Seasons - Spring

Summary: Natsu and Lucy take a break from walking on the way home from a mission. Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 of the Lovely Seasons series Ao3 Art made for this fic: <3

***

“No way! Look, Natsu, a field with wildflowers!” Lucy’s face lit up as she excitedly pointed towards the grassland. Natsu had to squint due to the sun shining in his eyes, but just as she said there were small flowers in different colours gently protruding from the soft grass, almost as if they were peeking out from the long winter to see if their season finally had arrived.

Happy was quick to fly to one of the trees standing in the field. It almost stuck out like a sore thumb, but the pearly white flowers in it made it fit in nicely. Natsu and Lucy eagerly followed him. It was about time they got to rest, their feet were sore and they were tired after the long day. Lucy took a seat with the tree trunk as her backrest, taking the opportunity to continue with the book she brought on their mission. Natsu took his chance to take a quick nap in the sun, allowing the soft grass to act as a mattress.

The three mages were currently on their way home after an easier mission in Hargeon, and Lucy had agreed to walk all the way home since the job had required them to take several vehicles. Lucy thought Natsu deserved the break, and since the weather forecast told them the weather would be good all weekend, she didn’t actually mind the hike, especially considering how beautiful the landscape became during these weeks. The change in scenery actually inspired Lucy and she easily got a few more chapters done thanks to nature. While the transport issue might have been the main reason, it wasn’t the only reason Lucy agreed to walk with them home. She loved to spend this special quality time with her two best friends.

Natsu didn’t know this though. He just felt lucky that Lucy didn’t force him to take a train home - not that he wouldn’t do what she asked at the end of the day, he knew Lucy didn’t always pick the most comfortable shoes for every mission. He actually appreciated how considerate she was. Most of the time she would complain when Happy and Natsu started begging to walk home, but she compromised a lot with them. “I’ll do it if you promise to let me have a few breaks on the way” and “We can walk home if you agree to cook food for me for at least 5 days” were sentences they heard on numerous occasions, and thankfully Natsu and Happy could agree to simple requests like that.

Natsu could only think about that far before the warm breeze and the smell of freshly growing grass lulled him to sleep. The rhythmic sound of Lucy turning pages and Happy’s purring from Lucy’s lap topped the cake and he drifted off in complete bliss.

Lucy had just finished a quite satisfying chapter and was not sleepy at all. The landscape in front of her was the best muse she had gotten in a while, so she picked up her notebook and started writing her ideas. A smile graced her face as she excitedly closed the notebook again. She’d have to convince Team Natsu to stay at home a few days more so she could properly write these ideas down. The sky above her was a light shade of blue, a shade that could only be seen at this time, right before lunchtime. Small fluffy clouds embraced the blue yonder and she wondered what her spirits were seeing from the celestial world. Was the view as beautiful as it is from here? Or is it even prettier from afar?

As the wind grabbed hold of the tree crown, the sun blinded Lucy’s eyes through the gaps in the leaves. It was indeed a bright day outside. She glanced at Natsu’s sleeping body, a few feet away from her. His face was in direct sunlight, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he could rest in this brightness. As she looked closer he didn’t actually seem that comfortable, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes squinting in his sleep. But deep in dreamland he was, because his mouth rested as it always did when he was asleep. When he’s awake he always seemed to be smiling or even grinning, with the occasional frown or pout, but when he slept his face relaxed like it never did otherwise. Lucy had learned to love all his faces, but this face was one she held extra close to her heart. Not many people knew this side to him unless they looked closely, and to be fair, no one really had the guts to after seeing Lucy once getting punched in his sleep. Those rivalries with Gray never seemed to simmer down, but Lucy could only assume that it was an important part in their relationship. The trust they had in each other to always be the one they’re striving to beat one day, fair and square.

Happy had rolled off Lucy’s lap in his sleep, so Lucy took this chance to straighten her legs. They had almost fallen asleep in those short minutes, so she had to take a few seconds to recover. What a dreadful fate to be stuck under a sleeping cat, not having the heart to move it. But then again, she would rather deal with Happy while he was asleep than dealing with him awake - he could be quite the rascal.

As her legs got their blood flow back in them, Lucy plucked a few flowers with long stems. She tried to remember if she still knew how to make thick flower crowns, but her memory failed this time so she made thinner versions that she made as a child. She just took a flower, splitted the stem in half as close to the base of the flower as possible, making sure not to break the loop or make the loop too big, causing the next flower to go through, and then she stuck the stem of the next flower in the loop and repeated the pattern. She had to check the size of her head a few times before she got it right, but soon enough her golden hair was decorated by small, delicate flowers.

Lucy glanced at Happy and Natsu again. She could probably make flower crowns for them too, but she wasn’t sure how well they would turn out, or if they’d even fit properly without any try-ons. She went working though, finding the activity to occupy her bored mind. As she made the crown for Natsu she was careful not to pick any pink flowers - it would make the flower crown look silly when it actually sat on later, due to the colour of his hair. She could already see how the colours clashed as he laid there in the fields, so why write herself up for failure when she could prevent it? The light blue flowers were rather nice against Happy’s blue fur though, so she didn’t have to struggle with his crown.

With three flower crowns done, Lucy finally stood up. The sun had moved quite a bit from its initial spot, but she didn’t want to wake them up quite yet. So she took a small walk across the fields, exploring the hill they rested on. A few metres downhill she found a small brook, rippling as the spring water replaced the old water from the winter. She saw a few gnats coming to life, hinting at the summer that was in front of them, and she quickly turned around. She wanted to live in the bliss of the in-between season for just a while longer. As she came back to the tree they sat under, Natsu had moved slightly, now sleeping on his side with his arm as a pillow. It looked quite uncomfortable, but she wasn’t the one to complain. Lucy carefully stepped up the hill and sat down next to him. His hair was moving gently in the lukewarm winds, and she brushed away a lock that was poking him in the eyes.

What a man she had met. To think that she would be blessed enough to be with him every day made her speechless. He had saved her in so many ways, at more occasions than he could ever understand. And what he probably didn’t know, was that in a few weeks their anniversary would be coming up. Another year spent with Fairy Tail, another year with Natsu as her friend. Or maybe he did know, since he always seemed to remember the most important dates when it came to Lucy. Her real birthday, her second birthday, or “real-real” birthday, as he called it, when they first met in Hargeon, the anniversary of her mother’s death, the anniversary of her father’s death even. He even knew the dates of when it was time to buy bulk products from the grocery store - though that might be due to his constant raiding of her kitchen.

Still, this man never ceased to amaze Lucy. She carefully laid down beside him, letting herself rake in all his presence. She could almost feel his emotions change as he dreamt, feeling his body heat rise and fall occasionally. Lucy nudged herself closer to him, just close enough to almost touch him.

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper, and she wasn’t sure if he actually heard her. But her voice was filled with sincerity. There was no one in the entire world she was more thankful to than him. And sometimes she’d allow herself to believe that she meant just as much to him, because right before she fell asleep to the sounds of Natsu’s steady, methodical breathing, he laid his arm across her waist, pulling her in the same way he did when they slept in her bed. She felt so noticed in his presence, and the flower crowns were almost forgotten in the bliss of the moment.

[roses-red-and-pink]

I’m about to say something, as a books purist, that would be controversial in the AWaE fandom, so proceed at your own risk

I don’t think Anne and Gilbert (from Anne with an E) had that much chemistry or were that good together.

Explanation

Because I need to rant

I finished watching AWaE yesterday, all 3 seasons. Now I know they had to rush the end a bit because they got cancelled, but I think my points still stand.

It’s no secret I love Anne/Gilbert (or shirbert), and I’ve shipped them since before I knew what shipping was. But as I was watching the show, I kept waiting for them to make me care about Gilbert/Anne and I just… didn’t. I wanted them to get together, but mostly because that’s what happens in the books. Not because these two characters seemed drawn together or had any sense of shared purpose or… well… anything.

Let’s start with Anne. Book!Anne is a bit of a firecracker. She cracks her slate over Gilbert’s head for teasing her and then proceeds to hold that grudge for the next 4 years. And yet she is never mean to gilbert. Competitive? absolutely. Haughty and a bit disdainful? Yes. But show!Anne is just downright mean and hurtful to him for no reason. He tries his best and instead of just ignoring him she will yell at and insult him. For what??

This ties back into one of the main problems I see with show!Anne, in that she’s far too aggressive. Book!anne will tear you to shreds, but only if you insult her first. Show!anne is just out here assuming the worst of people and yelling at them left right and centre, with no provocation. I know the show is trying to show us her trauma response, but I believe that does a huge disservice to Anne’s character. Anne is Anne, because she holds on to her hope and goodness and kindness despite the sadness and darkness.

Another thing that irked me was whole enemies to friends thing in the show. Because we know in the books there was one sided enemies (on Anne’s side) broken finally by Gil rescuing her, which led to best friends (like besties) then to love. But in the show it was like enemies (kinda) to sort of friends, to kinda enemies, to Anne yelling at him for no reason, to friends, to kinda besties?? To ignoring each other a bit, To lovers????. It was just confusing how one episode they were on the same side and the next mad at each other. One thing to note is that Anne ignoring gilbert started in the show because the other girls told her she couldn’t talk to him. So when he tried to mend things after the slate incident, she would not talk to him so she could fit in with the girls. Which seems like the un-Annest action ever. I’m here for the Anne who keeps herself above the petty meanness of the other girls and does her own thing based on her sense of morality!!

Ok now to Gilbert. Gilbert was better than Anne, but honestly that made me like the ship less. He was this golden child who did no wrong. Anything Anne did or said to him he just sort of took it. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him when he decided to go after that other girl Winnifred because she was nice to him. He’d finally had enough of Anne and honestly good for him! But seriously, my main problem with Gilbert was why did he keep going back to Anne? What did he see in her?? she was overly awkward, she was mean to him, she was his friend one minute and yelling at him the next.

Honestly Gilbert’s arc in this show was pretty cool. Going on a ship, meeting bash, coming back to farm, learning he wanted to be a doctor. He had goals! And ambition! And a passion to help others! As any good Gilbert should. I loved him with Bash and Mary. Didn’t like that they made him an orphan to connect with Anne. It was like they were trying to shoehorn in some connection between them (that they then didn’t really explore further lol).

I wanted to see true connection with Anne!! Show me their love of books together! You want to go with the both an orphan route? Show me Gilbert talking to anne about his dad and anne listening, and anne searching for her parents with Gilbert (not cole???? Why did they give those scenes to cole and not Gilbert?). Show me anne encouraging Gilbert in his medicine and Gilbert encouraging Anne in her writing! (Instead of just Anne’s social failures in writing, or them arguing about it). Make me care about them as a couple beyond a couple longing looks. Make me understand why Anne can be with no one but Gilbert and Gilbert can be with no one but Anne. I want to see their shared passions and goals!!

I think my main displeasure is From Anne’s character. I think they changed it too much and the ship, and the show, suffered as a result.

Anyways my apologies if any shirbert fans from AWaE find this. This is purely my opinion. I am happy they got together. But I will continue reading the books happily.

[ymaohoh]

Howl - Hellcheer Fic - Oneshot

Eddie and Chrissy die. Eddie and Chrissy live. Season 5 Hellcheer ft. time travel Eddie POV Lots of angst, sorry.

Word count: 6,977

Also on Archive

This was inspired by this fic by "WORTHLESS PRAYERS OF A NON-BELIEVER" by @cunninghamschrissy

--

If you could only see the beast you've made of me

And what a fucking way to go.

Eddie knew he was dying. Knew it as soon as the demobats’ teeth first sank into his flesh and consumed him piece by piece. It was a pain like he’d never experienced before, sharp and unforgiving and relentless, and by the time they were done (having finally taken their fill) he was begging anyone - anything - for sweet release. The thunder and lightning in the sky above seemed to absorb his screams. It was all very punk rock and metal. A fitting ending for someone like him really. 

But Henderson was safe and back through the portal, the little fucker. He’d bought them time (like a hero). That was the main thing. 

As Eddie’s soul trickled out of his body in a curious stream of blood-red dust, a lithe figure wrapped in the same crimson strangeness crept towards him. Its steps were soft and deliberate even though the twisted roots and vines of Vecna no longer posed any danger. It turned its head to peer down at him and Eddie recognised with a sudden intensity the graceful line of its body. He knew its gaze. 

(it was the gaze of a siren. Like Medusa she could turn him to stone) 

Eddie found himself trying to speak even though he had no breath left in his lungs. His shredded mouth (once so alive and animated and ready to laugh) lay useless and bloody. Yet he wanted desperately to call out and plead with this angel to stay with him. To offer a last lament he did not deserve. 

An angel with the kindest and saddest eyes he ever saw. 

Did you see that, Chrissy? God damn, that was the best rock show in the history of the world. Better than the Garden. 

You were amazing, Eddie. I’m so proud of you. 

Her lips never once moved yet her sweet voice was a melody. She was kneeling down beside his body and her limbs were smooth and unbroken now, just like she deserved. Something uncurled inside him at the sight of her face, he was so glad to see her now at the end. 

Are we dead?

I think so. Yeah. 

Dazed, he wanted to lift his ruined fingers to her lips. Even in death Chrissy Cunningham had the most beautiful smile, even if it looked like she was weeping. Impossible, surely, if they were no longer alive? 

Yet every tear that ran down her cheek made him die all over again. 

I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I was a real fucking coward. 

It's alright, you saved the others. That’s what matters. 

He could feel himself sinking further and further back into darkness as a little more of his light faded. 

But maybe it was okay because she was here and weeping at the end. It can't be all bad if he was going to the same place as someone like her. 

They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. But she’d wished him luck once at a school talent contest and made him feel on top of the world. 

What was left of his scattered thoughts suddenly imagined him and Chrissy in matching green graduation robes, grinning as they posed for dumb pictures, and then Chrissy laughing as they drove away in his busted van leaving Hawkins far behind. 

It’s not fair. 

It was too soon. This was all too soon. His heart wrenched for all the fucking fantastic possibilities and dreams that now lay wasted. They were still kids and they deserved more than to be the casualties of some fucked up inter-dimensional game of magic and smoke. Like the last embers of a wild bright bonfire, he and Chrissy would fade away when they deserved the chance to grow up, make mistakes, live. Just like kids were supposed to. 

But this sudden bitterness wouldn't change a damn thing and he knew it. He was already dead and so was she…and it was simply too late. So instead he kept his eyes on Chrissy's face and drank her in as his consciousness slowly slipped away. 

And she made him feel safe. This would be his grave and she was keeping watch like a night vigil. 

Chrissy, I want to take you on a date someday, you know? Fireworks, the whole lot. I'll make it real special. Just us. 

Yeah, Eddie. That sounds good. Come on, take my hand. Let’s go…

Eddie wanted to grin and laugh and cry as the figure wrapped her lovely arms around him, her cloak of shimmering red light enveloping and exhausting him completely. 

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

**

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound

And what a fucking way to die. 

But despite logic and reason - and despite what was real - it turned out life wasn’t quite ready for Eddie Munson to tap out just yet. In life he was like a burning torch of fire (burning too brightly for a little town like Hawkins) and he had too much attitude for a trailer trash junkie. But life - the cosmos, fate, whatever - decided that Eddie had an important part to play still and his death was a mistake which had to be set right. So it took hold of his strings like he was a mere puppet and dragged him back to his feet. 

His passing had felt like a gentle reprieve but when he came back to life he did so like a bolt of lightning ready to shake it all up. Eddie was in his element. He wanted to fucking live, damn it. 

Not that he understood any of it and he barely listened to the ‘why’s’ and ‘how’s’. When he awoke (with a breath so deep that made him splutter and his lungs ache) it was Henderson’s hopeful eyes that peered back at him, it was Jim Hopper who helped him to his feet, and Nancy Wheeler who told him about the final push - a fight of epic proportions like the badass battle of Pelennor Fields from Tolkien - which could end the threat of Vecna once and for all. 

They asked him to help so he chose a club with nails and swung it at whatever came his way. His body was still a nasty puzzle of scars and bites and blood, but at least it worked. It could fight. That was enough for now. 

Show him fear now and he would eat it for fucking breakfast. Death had been a cruel savage way to show him exactly what he was capable of. 

Their army - a last alliance of men and elves - was small but it was hurt, it was angry, it was sick of this asshole hurting them and their loved ones. Parents fought for their kids, sisters beside brothers, couples watched each other’s backs. They fought back as one epic team and told Vecna he would never harm or scare them again. 

It was pretty inspirational. If he were a Bard he would dedicate songs to how awesome it all was. Steve Harrington and Hopper were fucking Barbarians, man. 

But Vecna was an asshole. He was cruel. 

So in some desperate attempt to turn the tide, he decided to raise the dead too. He brought back his favourites to be pawns in this fucked up game of chess. It was horrific, terrifying, and he dangled these poor souls before him like a shield, reasoning that Eddie and the others would never harm or attack their friends.

It was a safe bet. When Eddie first beheld Chrissy at Vecna’s side (her beautiful face so stiff and lifeless) he’d wanted to tear Vecna apart with his bare hands. Wanted to rip his throat out with his teeth and nails. That kind sweet Chrissy should be used again by this creep - to hurt, to suffer, to harm them - was like a taunt. No one would move against these souls for fear of harming them, not even when Vecna commanded them to attack.

Mike Wheeler made some hushed comment about the X-Men Apocalypse comics and, yeah, Vecna picked his Four Horseman alright. Chrissy was pestilence - she was draining the life from him. 

He would not hurt her, not even if she started gnawing him into pieces of bone and flesh (again). 

They moved like puppets, twisting and turning where Vecna wanted them. 

But Vecna underestimated Chrissy. He underestimated Barb, Fred, and Patrick. They fought back against his iron will (steel against iron and iron cracked and yielded) and broke free from his control. Their unwillingness to submit was like a Warrior’s rallying call. 

(and now they had their army of the dead - their Dead Men of Dunharrow - so metal) 

Eddie fought like a demon, ripping open demobats and creatures alike, using his club and shield to smash through their ranks. Beside him Chrissy fought like a woman scorned and burned like a shooting star. She moved in a blur, kicking and biting and wielding a handaxe, her long hair stained red with blood. He’d called her an angel before - and she still was - but now she was an avenging angel (a Valkyrie) reigning down fire and carnage. 

She was fighting for her life, yes, but it ran deeper than mere life or death now. She was pissed. She was deranged. He had stolen so much from her and she wanted it back in blood. 

Her screams rang out like a war cry (and she’d been silenced for far too long). 

Eddie found himself summoned by that cry and they fought side by side, two people who had no business being in the same reality, and they fought hard. When Eddie was nearly blindsided by a demobat Chrissy pushed him out of the way, and Eddie smashed in the skull of the demogorgon dog that snapped at her leg. Eddie and Chrissy wanted to live. They wanted all the fucking beautiful possibilities and dreams that death wanted to snatch away from them. They refused to be casualties this time. 

She landed a particularly excellent crack to the back of Vecna’s head before Eleven took over. No sound had ever sounded sweeter. 

And you know what? They fucking won. 

As Eleven landed the killing blow (because really, she was the only one who could and should) and Vecna was at last torn apart, the hush that followed was deafening. 

Eddie could hear it ringing in his ears. 

There came frantic hugs and kissing and claps on the shoulder. People were crying. Henderson hugged Eddie so hard he felt like keeling over. 

Panting, he turned to Chrissy but she was standing very very still and staring down at Vecna’s eviscerated corpse. 

She spat on the ground (her spit was holy water, it seared and burned) and turned her back. 

I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground

**

My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in

And what a fucking way to live. 

Life could not possibly resume after such an event, surely, but stubbornly it tried its best. The sun rose the next morning and birds outside his hotel window chirped and sang. The world around them didn’t care about their heartbreak and grief and kept turning like it was any other day - and to the majority of its population who would never know how close they came to ruin, it was. 

(they were being housed by the government - all very hush hush - to be observed, patched up, forced to sign paperwork that demanded their silence)

This is what they had fought for…to wake up and deal with normal human stuff like picking what breakfast cereal to eat and arguing about what radio station to listen to…so why did it feel so shitty and wrong? 

The food tasted like ash. Wayne brought him a box of his old tapes but the lyrics made no sense, the music was off-key. He even brought his beloved guitar but Eddie angrily dashed it against the wall when he realised he no longer remembered even the most basic chords.  

Wheeler read about veterans coming home from war and struggling to cope and said maybe this was sort of similar. They’d been soldiers, right? Child soldiers, but they’d faced more horror than any brain (and heart) could before splintering. And even though they had fucking earned their victory (with blood and sweat and tears), a nasty darkness continued to linger over them like a dark cloud they couldn’t quite shake.

But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer.

Eddie read Tolkien when he was a kid and he loved it (his mom had left all her books when she skipped town - along with a lifetime worth of deep-rooted insecurities), but you know what? Tolkien was shit wrong this time. 

The new day came but it was all wrong. 

It wasn’t just lasting trauma (because damn they were going to rack up some serious therapy bills), it ran far deeper than that. 

Will Byers was the one who eventually spoke up and explained that they had simply come back wrong. 

The poor souls who cheated death were fading every day, and nobody knew how to bring them back. It seemed one could not die and just come back without consequences, even if the cosmos changed its mind. It just didn’t work that way and now they were paying the price. The people brought back said it felt like they were wearing another person’s skin. 

(Vecna’s parting gift - the creep)

The government doctors observed them and monitored their vitals, but they were similarly stumped. How could you fix something that was beyond healing? This wasn’t something that could be stitched up like a wound or treated with antibiotics.

Eddie let them poke and prod but he could feel it in his bones that Will was right. It was like a sickness, a virus weighing him down. His mangled body would heal eventually (though he’d carry the scars all his life) but it still didn’t feel like his body. 

It was worse for those who spent longer in Vecna’s messed up world. Barb rarely came out of the bedroom she shared with Nancy (he could see Nancy flinch every time Barb refused dinner). 

And as for Chrissy…

She sat still for too long and when he looked into her eyes she wasn’t ever really there. He and Robin Buckley and Joyce Byers encouraged her to spend time in the garden, hoping (like idiots) that maybe the sunlight would help like she was some wilting pot plant. Chrissy seemed to become more animated when Eddie was around (he could get her to eat, at least), so he read to her, picked flowers, brushed her long hair and twisted it into messy little plaits. 

Chrissy had done him the honour of being with him at his death, so he would try and repay her kindness by helping her in life. 

(the therapists spoke about ‘emotional bonds’ and ‘codependency’ following trauma but it meant nothing to him)

He watched her, always searching for some sign of life, but the truth was she was slipping through his fingers yet again and he didn’t even have the strength to hold on. 

They weren’t lovers but they were friends now. He knew with unusual certainty that if Chrissy faded away he would follow. 

So they went through the motions of resting, eating, showering. They tried to rebuild and heal. They took vitamins and spoke to therapists. They let the doctors draw blood for tests (though after Chrissy ripped out the needle and screamed not to touch her anymore, he’d snarled at them to leave her the fuck alone). 

Until Eleven offered them a solution. 

There was a chance, she said, that things could go back to the year this all started. 1983 was a fixed point in time before Vecna and if she was right (and she usually was) she could take them all back. 

It sounded crazy - like something from a science fiction movie (seriously, time travel) - but if it worked everything would go back to the way it was in Hawkins and all the people murdered by Vecna over the years (for there were many many more) would get their lives back…but the right way this time. 

There were risks to Eleven and risks that it wouldn’t work. 

But there was also a risk that, by going back, they would forget everything. 

They would forget years of their lives, they would forget each other.

They all glanced at one another - exchanging looks with the people they loved, who they’d fought beside, who had come to be like family - but if it meant saving everyone…? Having another chance?

When it was his turn to vote, Eddie thought about Chrissy and knew it could only be a yes. 

(Steve was going to risk that twinkle he felt for Nancy and the friendships he had with the kids; Nancy and Jonathan were risking all they had in the world; Robin was risking Steve and her new chosen family who accepted her; Will, Mike, Dustin, Lucas…fuck they were risking the best and worst years of their lives and their best friend; he didn’t know exactly what Max’s deal was but the kid looked horrified when it was her turn; then there was Eleven who was risking her life. The only people who looked so fucking sure were the grown ups who said they would risk everything worth a damn for the kids to be safe and… well…kids again) 

Afterwards he knelt by Chrissy’s chair in the garden and gathered her tiny hands in his own. They were pale, shivering, and her grip weak. He could feel the delicate bones click beneath her skin. Nothing like the talons that wielded her axe during battle. 

She was no longer some avenging angel or Valkyrie. This lovely soul before him was a coiling shadow and it made him fucking terrified. 

“I brought you some Jasmine tea,” he murmured (begged, pleaded). “Thought it might help you sleep later. We’ve got Nancy’s copy of Emma to start too…that’ll work if this doesn’t.”

“Nothing can help me anymore, Eddie. You know that.” 

Yeah he did. It made him want to scream, recoil. 

“They’re waiting for you to vote, kid. Has to be unanimous, that’s the deal.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked. She looked at him with her big blue eyes (better than an arrow - they pierced) but the lack of warmth or spark of life was startling. “If…if this doesn’t work we’ll waste away, won’t we? Like ghosts. I feel like a ghost.” 

Her hands were so cold, even though it was a warm evening and she was wearing one of his old patched sweatshirts. He tried rubbing her fingers between his own and blew on them. 

“If El can pull this crazy plan off, then we’ll go back to 1983 and everything will be normal again. You’ll be back to your old self, you’ll be well again. Promise. It’ll be like none of this shit ever happened.”

And she might not know him. He might not know her. They would be practically strangers again. 

She would go back to being the young pretty freshman climbing the rungs of Hawkins’ social ladder (to one day becoming the established cheer captain and Queen Bee). He would be the freak, the school pariah, mean and scary. They’d pace the same hallways and eat in the same cafeteria but they would not share a smile or a look or a friendly wave. 

He felt sick at the thought, but as long as Chrissy was safe and alive somewhere he could deal. It’s not like he would remember anyway. 

“Most important thing is you’re safe and alive, I’ll risk the rest.”

“Why do you care about me?” 

Eddie pressed his scarred lips against her wrist in a chaste kiss. He tried not to look at the tears that suddenly raced down her cheeks and focused instead on her lips (bitten, sore), her nose (perfect, freckled), and her long hair (wavy, lank and lifeless now). He wouldn’t get the chance to look again. 

He wanted to save it all to memory (maybe the more he looked, the harder it would be for those memories to be ripped away? He needed to lock them away with a key). 

“Because twice now, Chrissy Cunningham, you’ve broken this jaded and miserable heart and showed me kindness I never deserved. First time when you wished a scared little boy good luck when you didn’t have to, and then again when you found him dying and terrified. You stayed with me so I wouldn’t go through that alone. You fucking wept for me, Chriss. I can’t…won’t let you die again.” 

Later Chrissy voted yes too but she refused to look any of them in the eye. 

(they voted a unanimous yes like the big stupid heroes they were)

You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl

**

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers

And what a fucking way to live (repeat)

Eddie’s brain had always been wired differently so it wasn’t too much of a shock that it refused to follow orders now and forget. It was defiant and clung fast to his memories, arguing against the powers that be it would not let them go. So when he woke up in his bedroom, newly turned sixteen-year-old Eddie Munson did remember. There were admittedly some parts that were murkier than others but overall his memory won. 

(he spent a long afternoon reflecting that maybe this wasn’t such a good thing - but a joint or two calmed him down. He fucking loved the rush he got from it, and the way he picked up his guitar like an old friend and seamlessly started playing some Dio). 

Some of the others remembered too but it was difficult to patch it all together. The ones who could remember felt like assholes for bringing certain things up - because if you could forget, wouldn’t you want to? It seemed crappy to remind them. Some people asked questions and wanted to remember, but some simply chose not to. 

(Barb was one of the ones he never spoke to again. Nancy told them she transferred somewhere close to the ocean).  

There were no rules about how to handle time travel but they muddled through somehow. They each had their own patchwork cloak of memories, some squares overlapping, some missing, some fraying at the seams. They were patient. They were kind. 

It would take time. 

And they had all the time in the world to work it out. That was the best thing. It was 1983 again but this time the world seemed more bright and exciting. Eddie had felt left behind for a long time (his dumbass’ fault really) but now? He had a second chance to get his diploma and fucking make something of himself. 

(he still had nightmares and frequently checked himself in the mirror - no - no bite marks). 

The ones who could (and wanted) to remember felt a pull to stay together. They felt like the survivors of some shipwreck but without any evidence of the wreckage. They became like a family to Eddie who was once without (his uncle was a steadying presence and didn’t ask about the night terrors or why Eddie suddenly tried so hard at school). 

So (fucking wild) Eddie spent most of this school time in the company of Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Robin Buckley, and Patrick McKinney - much to the enormous amusement of other students who couldn’t get their heads round the weird mix of jocks, loners, freaks, preps.

To be fair, Eddie was less inclined to cause fuss in the cafeteria these days and only sold weed on the weekends so maybe he wasn’t so much of a freak anymore…? He said as much to Robin who snorted and told him to dream on. They were all freaks which kind of undercut the point, you know? 

“A John Hughes wet dream - though Breakfast Club doesn’t technically come out for another two years…God, the mind boggles,” she added. 

The odd assortment of friends were sitting on the school bleachers eating lunch as it was a rare sunny day for Hawkins. The younger kids would be coming over to join them from the middle school and Eddie was sketching out ideas for a D&D campaign (he wanted to set the club up before the kids got to high school because fuck them feeling like outsiders this time round).  

Steve was busy eyeing up a cute girl from his chem lab, Nancy and Jonathan were making eyes at each other, Patrick was trying again to explain the rules of basketball to Robin who said she didn’t give a crap. 

A bell rang in the distance and he looked up from his sketchbook, his eyes going right over to the doors. Within a few minutes he was rewarded by the sight of Chrissy (flanked as always by her giggly popular friends).

As for Chrissy’s memory? Who could say. 

As soon as they returned to 1983 she was reluctant to talk about any of it. She didn’t ignore them but she didn’t join in either. She let Nancy check in on her once a week and told them yes, i’m fine but she held her cards close to her chest when it came to discussing her memory. She never wanted to share or ask questions and after a couple of days they stopped asking. 

So instead of joining their rag-tag party, she drifted closer to her friends on the cheer team and threw herself into extracurriculars. She seemed to have signed up for everything - cheerleading, photography, student council, art classes, tutoring - and seemed happiest when she was busy and helping. 

(like a shield) 

Eddie would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt (because it felt like a punch to the gut every time she was in his proximity), though he hadn’t exactly done anything to bridge the gap either. 

Chrissy had effortlessly resumed her role as the pretty and popular cheerleader who everyone seemed to adore. Girls wanted to be her friend and boys - well, you’d have to blind not to notice the looks she got from guys just aching to take her out. 

(Eddie had to grit his teeth when he saw this - they didn’t really see her, they hadn’t fought at her side, they hadn’t died in her lovely arms). 

Chrissy rattled him - but then she always had. 

So instead he kept his distance and resigned himself to an insufferable watch. He probably looked like a fucking stalker but as long as she was nearby and safe and happy that was enough. She looked happy. They didn’t share any classes as he was in the right year group this time, but Nancy told him she was doing well on the student council (using her voice to defend, to challenge). Patrick said she was an excellent cheerleader and already impressed the current reigning captain. 

God, she was thriving. 

What had he expected? Of course she was. 

He hated that she slipped so easily back into this role. He hated that she no longer needed him like he apparently desperately needed her. 

He was such a fucking asshole. This was exactly what he’d wanted when he voted yes all those years ahead.  

They’d all taken the same risk by voting yes and some of them lost. 

The reality (he tried drumming into his thick head) was that he and Chrissy Cunningham had only been flung together because fate had a pretty sick sense of humour. They had absolutely no business being friends or…anything…except maybe casual school chums. They’d shared moments of complete bliss and agony together in the Upside Down - but not from their own choosing - but rather some cosmic joke that left them with no one else. She owed him nothing, and he would not accept it anyway. 

That was the truth. 

They’d saved the world and he was a certified hero - so what did it matter if he felt like a royal loser? 

(he finally looked away when Jason Carver materialised and offered to carry Chrissy’s pink backpack) 

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

**

My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out

And what a fucking way to end it

Eddie went to class on time and listened and his grades started picking up. He started his D&D club and was surprised when two new faces (seniors - graduating at the end of the year) showed up at the first meeting. He got a legitimate weekend job at a garage so he could help out Wayne with the bills. Corroded Coffin were starting up just in time for the release of Holy Diver (the very definition of perfect timing - honestly). His new friends showed up at their gigs and they played all the better for it. 

When he got a B on his latest English paper, Wayne took him out for pizza and said he was real proud of him. Eddie started to think about the future - that just maybe he could amount to something other than petty criminal or deadbeat dad. Maybe he could even aim for college. Study music or graphic design. 

Maybe get out of Hawkins. Find a girl. See some of the world. 

Sure he had baggage and got angry sometimes (real angry, at seemingly odd moments) but every week he spoke to Ms Kelley about his shitty parents and why his crazy brain struggled to focus. He couldn’t tell her the truth obviously - but still, it helped. 

His second chance at life flew by in a hazy rush. Halloween came along, so did Thanksgiving (he and Wayne were invited to the Byers’ which beat the TV dinners the Munson’s were used to). 

It was nearing Christmas break when Eddie finally realised (with a penny drop) that Chrissy’s patchwork cloak was unravelling despite her desperate attempts to sew it back up. 

And it was Nancy who gave him the first clue when she found Chrissy crying in the school bathroom. “You know Carver asked her out and she turned him down flat, right? It’s the biggest scandal of the semester. We know he’s a huge jerk but everyone else thinks he’s this cool hotshot athlete. They’re scandalised.” 

“Wait - so she’s crying because of that jackass?” Steve asked. 

(Jason was an anomaly they didn’t know how to handle - after all, no harm, no foul, right? - but they knew the crap he was capable of, even if he didn’t)

“Her parents kicked her out,” Jonathan added after a moment. He winced when they all stared at him and tried to shrug it off. “She let slip in photography club. I asked about some photos she took of home and she said her parents could be really mean and controlling sometimes. Especially her mom. Stuff like ‘not being good enough’. I mean, it’s her business so I didn’t want to pry, but yeah…didn’t sound so easy. Sounds like she finally stood up to them though and they threw her out. Think she’s staying with her aunt.” 

Eddie knew what Chrissy looked like on a battlefield, knew she could land one sick dropkick, knew what she looked like when she sobbed her beautiful heart out. 

He didn’t know about an aunt or that her parents were bullying pieces of shit. It felt like a serious gap in his knowledge about someone who occupied so much of his daily thoughts. 

God, he felt so fucking proud of her. 

“What sort of stuff does she photograph?” Eddie asked. It suddenly seemed like an important thing to know. 

“Uh…mostly people, I think. I’ve not seen her work on landscapes or objects. She really likes portraits and light work. She took some seriously good ones of the cheerleaders practising drills. It’s really hard to capture movement, you know, but they turned out great.” 

Chrissy had made the choice to sever links with Jason and her shitty parents. 

And she was photographing life. Hope began to kindle in his chest. 

Maybe she did remember. 

Jonathan looked at him and said, “She’s booked out the studio after school to work on a project. Maybe you should talk to her? She always seemed…better…when you were nearby. Before, I mean.” 

Yeah. Before. When they were fading away like ghosts. 

Maybe it was a selfish idea (he would have to be so so careful with his choice of wording) but Eddie was hungry to see her, to speak to her, to spot any glimmer of before. Watching her from afar was simply not enough to quench this thirst anymore. 

(he’d even attended a pep rally just to drink in her smile, to his shame). 

He wasn’t going to be an asshole and push anything but he could check in. That was harmless, right? 

So after school Eddie found himself making his way to the photography classroom. He’d been here only twice before (photography seemed to require a lot of patience - waiting, developing, timing) but he recognised the sharp stinging smell of chemicals as he opened the doors. 

He felt his chest clench and suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. Was this how Beren felt when he saw the Luthien dancing in the woods? Only Chrissy wasn’t dancing like an ethereal spirit, she was all alone and leaning over a workbench. No leaves or forest, just the countless pictures pinned to the walls. 

And boy, did he fucking note the way her body tensed up when she saw him. “Hey Chriss.” 

“Eddie…” Chrissy bit her lip (a habit he knew she did when she was nervous). “Can I help you with something? Jonathan’s not here.” 

Yeah, you can be honest and tell me your damage, you beautiful mess of all things wonderful and lovely. 

“I mean, I could lie and say I had a sudden urge to join the club, but I’m really only here for you. Sounds like you’ve had a crap time recently so I wanted to check in. You holding up okay?”

Chrissy huffed out a breath and turned back to her project. The pink knitted jumper she wore was baggy and oversized and he could see the pale skin of her (not broken, not snapped, she was alive) shoulder. 

“That’s kind of you, really, but I don’t need babysitting. I’m okay,” she said quietly. “I…I’m keeping busy. Doing my best. I’m really trying.” 

Eddie reached the table and peered down with interest at the scattering of photographs (one of the cheer team in action, one of a basketball game, one of the cheering crowds). He could see so clearly what she was trying to capture. She wanted their smiles, their joy. Almost like she was trying to collect them. These photos were a testament to her words - that she was trying so incredibly hard to live in this world. 

“These are cool. You’re good at this.”

“They’re okay,” she corrected with a small sigh. “Still got a lot to learn.” 

He watched as she picked up another photo - her brother maybe? - and arranged it onto a black scrapbook page with the others. Had she ever mentioned a brother before? 

He spoke before he could remind himself they weren’t friends. “I don’t know anything about your life, Chriss. Thought I did but…”

“I’m still learning about it too. Oh…”

Her elbow accidentally knocked a tray and in her haste to save the chemicals, a second pile of photographs slipped out from beneath and fell to the floor. Eddie quickly bent to pick them up and (ignoring her protests) instinctively turned them over…

“Please don’t…” 

…only to see a picture of himself. 

Standing, he felt a ripple of shock and looked at her, a question burning his lips. She was staring down at her sneakers and her cheeks were flushed scarlet but she gave a tiny nod. 

There were several photographs of him, all taken at school from a distance. He looked at himself playing guitar on the bleachers, stretching out on the lawn at lunch, leaning against his van smoking a cigarette. He eyed his face closely (eyes brown and laughing, hair a chaotic mess of curls, stubble on his jaw that needed shaving) and was surprised by how different it looked to what he saw in the mirror every morning. It was like seeing something from a brand new angle, he looked so different. 

He looked happy. Confident. A good-looking guy (how did she manage that?) living a decent life. Was this how she saw him? 

There were others of Nancy, of Steve, of Robin, even a few of Max, but they were mostly of him. He paused at one of them all together at lunch laughing at something funny Robin said. They looked so fucking smug and normal. 

And then…right at the bottom…a photograph of Chrissy herself. 

But this Chrissy wasn’t smiling (which seemed to be her default setting at school). She’d obviously taken it as a self-portrait because she was perched on a stool looking right into the camera lens. She looked so real, so fucking raw. Her face was smooth and serious and deathly sad. She wasn’t even wearing makeup. There was a patch of acne on her chin. 

Jonathan said she was into portraits and this was how she saw herself. He wanted to tattoo it on his chest. 

“I’m no stalker, I swear,” but her laugh wasn’t convincing. “It might sound stupid but I just…I don’t want to forget anything. When I take a photograph it’s proof that the subject was real. That my memories are real.”

Eddie’s heart was fucking hammering. The others might kill him, but he just had to…

Screw Fate. Screw ‘emotional and trauma bonding’. He would grab this with his own two hands. 

So he plunged into the deep end and asked the million-dollar question. “Do you…remember, Chriss?”

And she nodded. The most miraculous nod in history. 

“I remember most things, but not everything. Some of the details are hazy which drives me crazy sometimes. I remember Vecna, I remember dying which really sucks, and the fight…I remember the crappy hotel too and the…vote. Some things I’d rather forget honestly but the other stuff? I wish I could capture them, you know? Like taking a snapshot of the inside of my brain. That must sound really weird.” 

“Nah, I get it. I draw them too. For D&D or just sketch them in my notebook. I…don’t want to forget either,” he admitted. “I try and draw every detail…well, as best as these dumb hands will let me. I’m not too shabby.” 

Her eyes lit up with starlight. Her hands were trembling at her sides. 

It felt almost too natural to take her hand and thread his fingers between her own. Once he’d kissed these fingers, tried to rub some life into them. 

“Chrissy…these photographs are really incredible, and we’re all here if you ever want to talk about this stuff. I’m right here, alright? I fucking see you.”

She began to cry (big messy tears that were aching to be let free) and then she was in his waiting arms. He gathered her close, hungrily, fervently, trying to ignore how perfectly she fit like a missing jigsaw piece and how something primal inside his soul seemed to snap into place. She wept and clung to his flannel shirt and he didn’t give a shit when his own tears followed. He stroked her back, her hair, urging her to let it all out. Her hair felt like spun gold. “I think you always have, Eddie,” she whispered. 

Her frayed edges had finally found his own and he would stitch them himself if she let him.  Eventually Chrissy began to pull away and mumbled something about being so embarrassed and so sorry but Eddie found himself holding on. 

He could not let her slip away again.

“Don’t let me go, Chris, please.” It sounded like a whimper. A plea for her to remain with him. 

She softened back into the embrace and his grip tightened when she pressed her shivering lips (soft, alive) against his chest. 

“Why do you care about me?” she sniffed. “Eddie, I’m a total fucking mess.” 

It was the same question she’d asked years ahead in the garden when they were wasting away, and again he answered her honestly. Because what else could you do to someone you would literally travel through time for? 

“Remember what I said the night of the vote? I meant every damn word, always will. Nothing’s changed for me, Chriss. Nothing.” 

“I remember. Oh - I remember you. They couldn’t rip you away from me.” 

They had no photographs or sketches, but they were witnesses. They remembered, and they could make new memories too. New (gleeful, sad, exciting, embarrassing) memories. Just like kids their age were supposed to. 

So he mumbled into her hair, “Chriss, can I take you on a date? Fireworks, the whole lot. I'll make it real special. Just us. 

He could feel Chrissy smiling - and fuck, wasn’t that the whole point? - as she said yes, she’d really really like that.

And then she threw her lovely arms around him again, cloaking him in hope and light, but this was not to be his end…

It was his beginning. 1983, baby. 

Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

**

A/N:

Whatever happens in season 5 I just hope these beautiful characters get some kind of closure. A few quick notes:

I love Emma. It’s a great book. Just doesn’t feel like an Eddie book. 

Time travel who? I don’t usually like that kind of ending - feels cheap sometimes - but for this genre it could totally work. 

Enjoy the nerd references. 

I included Barb because I want closure for her too. 

Who knows about a timeline or ages. I’m basing this off the Wiki ages. 

Lyrics by Florence. 

Thank you for reading. I really enjoyed writing this.

[catcher-intherai]

Old writing I did about a year ago

(Word bank--

numpav- steamed buns

eat rice- kick rocks

kuy teav- breakfast soup

and putting your spoon into a cup of hot water is common practice)

This wasn’t finished because the main character is incredibly unlikeable.

You can rest now, my friend said before leaving the living room. A monsoon had blown my house apart, everything was gone, even my cat. I'd go looking for her in the morning, but for now I needed to rest. It was the middle of July, so the monsoon season wasn’t ending anytime soon. All I could do was hope, hope that the winds, and the downpour would lessen in the morning. My friend was one of those richer guys who lived on the 7th floor of the building and wow was it a nice building. I was very thankful that he took me in, but I couldn’t stay forever of course. I finally closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep, even though his couch was uncomfortable as anything, but I was so exhausted that this brick mound of a couch felt like a cloud sent from heaven. When I finally fell asleep I didn’t have any dreams, I was too tired to dream of anything. I woke up to my friend slightly shaking me by the shoulder, “Chea, Chea? Wake up Chea!”, I pushed myself up and stretched, “what is it Nimol?”, he was already ready for work. I used to run a street food cart in the city before this monsoon blew it away, while he was some fancy shmancy business man at some big corp. “you going looking for NumPav today?'' He was very fond of my cat, he was worried about her too, I almost saw him burst into tears when I told him she was missing. “yeah, yeah, I am”, I groaned, I was still getting up. He started smiling, “I have some raw fish in the freezer if she’s hungry!”, why did he sound so damn happy, “I’ll help you look when I get out of work”, then he ran out, he had to beat the monsoon to work. I finally pushed myself up, I should probably do the same, so I slipped into some clothes I didn’t really care about, it wasn’t like I had any left after that monsoon. The winds were still roaring and the rain was still pouring, but I had to find my cat, so I ran through them, forgetting an umbrella.

The first place I decided to check was the dumpster of the local bakery, she got her name for a reason. I used to work at this bakery, and this tiny brown kitten used to stop by the dumpster and eat any leftover buns. She would do it so often without being caught that she got really fat, and smelled like pure steamed buns, so I just took her home. I needed her more than anything, she was my best friend, and she was nearly elderly, so in a way she needed me more than anything. I started to shift through the dumpster, finding no trace of NumPav. I decided the next best place to check was the shelter, even if it was more likely she learned to drive and moved to Laos then got taken to the shelter, I could hope that someone had done it. I walked in and over to the receptionist, “hello, has anyone brought in a brown cat with a blue collar in the past day?”, I was really really hoping I'd hear her say “yes! We saw this Old, Fat, Blind, cat that was surrendered last night! We’ll bring her right out for you!”, but instead she said, “no”. It was just a quick short “no”, but it was a world's worth of pain that crushed me. “well, thanks' ', after that I walked out and slumped over on the sidewalk, the rain pounding against my head. NumPav, where are you? Where are you girl?

I decided that I’d finally need something to eat, I felt selfish for wanting to eat. When my cat was out there, all alone, wet, cold, and scared, in the monsoon. It made me feel sick, almost like puking, but for my cat to get by I had to get by. I walked all the way to this cheap soup place, still looking out for my cat. When I got in I ordered a cup of hot water, green tea, and kuy teav. While I was waiting for mt food I started to cry, NumPav needed me badly, she needed me more than anything. What if someone killed her? What if the monsoon swept her away? What if she drowned in a flood? I was so worried, so worried that I didn’t notice that someone came to my table. It was a young woman, with gorgeous black hair, it was wavy like the sea and shiny like a prized gem! She had almond eyes that were a deep shade of brown, I could’ve got lost in them, forever. She was looking right at me, “is everything ok?”, she sure sounded worried, more worried than someone ever sounded for me. “I’m fine”, I was still crying, “no you’re not”, I was too sad right now, I wanted her to go away more than anything, so I didn’t respond. She didn’t leave, and instead sat quietly with me. She was wearing a uniform, so I guess she worked at this lousy place. My food finally came, I instantly dropped my spoon in the hot water, “you don’t think I clean those well enough?”, she said in a somewhat disappointed tone, “honestly, no”, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be nice to a dish girl, but she was in the mood to put up with me. “well you sure trusted me to clean that cup and bowl!”, when she said that I stopped chewing, she was right, and it made me lose my appetite, “can you go do your job and get me a to-go container?”. She looked really upset after I said that, then she got up without a word and left to get that container. While she was doing that I pulled out my phone to text my friend, “I haven’t found NumPav yet, how many more hours until you leave work?”, I sat my phone down, and that dish girl came back with my container. She sat it down and tried to pick up my bowl to put my soup in, but I stopped her and put it in myself. Then I left. I really had to find my cat, and there was no time to waste on some dish girl. Before I could leave she called out to me, jeez just shut up women. I really did want her to call out for me in all honesty. Like I said, her beauty was heavenly, but I wanted to find my cat more than I wanted to talk to her.

I would’ve told her to go eat rice, but she grabbed my wrist, “where are you going”, I made sure to look her right in the eye when I pulled my hand away, I had to get back on my search for NumPav, maybe she was in the dumpsters of this place. So, I went over to the back and bent over the big dumpster in the back and began to rummage through it. I didn’t find my sweet cat, guess she wasn’t here, so I left. Where was she? Then my friend called me, “hey Nimol”, I must’ve sounded exhausted when I talked, but he sounded pretty damn happy,

“Hi Chea! Guess who got out early?”

“I don’t know, Hun Manet?”

“Very funny, but this time it was Nimol Tola this time.”

“how exciting…”

“yeah, I’m about to check the bakery for NumPav, where ar-”

“nice try I already checked the bakery”

“really? you went to every bakery in Phnom Penh?”

“…” he’s such a smarta** sometimes

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

I finally started watching Anne with an E. I know seven years late, but better late than never, right?

So here's part 1 of my memes for AWAE Season 1 Episode 1.

The auidence getting introduced to Anne:

Me, watching the intro:

Anne summed up in one picture:

Anne, every time she experiences a trumatic flashback:

Anne: Just wanting to be treated with basic human decency

All the adults before the Cuthberts:

Adult's minds as soon as they see Anne:

Episode 1 really had everything -

. Gaslight

. Gatekeep

. GirlBoss

What I thought was gonna happen when Anne was running towards that cliff: