#frost fans follow me i love him dearly

[neocrows]

I am an artist i can draw my favs interacting

[besamehyuka]

SKZ: Accidentally Exposing Your Relationship (You are a KPOP idol too.)

Bangchan:

You knew one thing. Bangchan was talking too long in the studio. You needed him to sleep. You hated when he hardly slept. So, what did you do? You strolled right in there to scold him.

“Bangchan! Get your ass a shower, then head to bed so you can cuddle me! I’m tired of being alone, while you’re working on a stupid song! Am I not important?” You yelled, but your face slowly fading when you saw the camera on and Bangchan’s ghost white face.

“Fuck..” You whispered, but only smiled as he motioned you to the camera.

“Yes, you heard her. All those rumors about me and Y/N being in a relationship, turned out to be true.” He stated with a chuckle. “I’ll come do that once, I get off of this love.” He said kissing your cheek lightly.

“Okay, hey STAY!” You yelled at the camera. “MAKE SURE HE DOES WHAT HE SAYS!” You pointed at the screen before giving him a kiss on his head. He only smirked and nodded. 

“I’m sure they’ll let you know in your own live if i followed your directions or not.”

Lee Know:

“He managed to stumble on the floor as the camera was rolling, he accidentally exposed his screensaver, which revealed you. Maybe Stays wouldn’t notice it, or maybe just think he is a big fan of you, but the picture was one of you and him kissing.

He swallowed hard as he turned towards the camera man. “Can we cut this part out?” He asked, only to have the camera man shake his head. 

“It’s Live.”

“It’s LIVE!?” He screamed, but regained his composure. “Well, I guess they all know now.” He said chuckling, while Han shook his head.

“And here I was thinking, I was made for you.” Han stated, shaking his head over and over.

“Oh shut up, you aren’t Y/N.”

Changbin:

“GOD DAMNIT Y/N! ALWAYS LIVING YOUR SHIT AROUND THE HOUSE! I HAVE YOUR PANTIES ON MY BED!” Changbin yelled, unaware of the camera you were holding, you quickly turned to camera around and slapped Changbin angrily. 

“Stupid! I’m on Live, you just exposed us!” You stated through gritted teeth as he tried to make up an excuse.

“Uh.. you see Y/N’s company and our company are-”

“The fans are telling you to shut up, you can’t take back what you said.”

Changbin cursed under his breath as he moved to the camera turning it to face himself. He whispered into the microphone. “Yes, we’re in a relationship, you happy?”

You only smiled as he looked away flustered, now fans knew you and Changbin weren’t practicing Abstinence.

Hyunjin:

Honestly, you weren’t planning on the close interaction with Hyunjin. So, you just ignored it. That was until you were seated right next to Stray Kids, and Hyunjin was so slick as he changed places with Felix, so he could be closer to you.

He smirked as he put his hand behind his chair, so he could caress your ankle. Drawing a small chuckle out from you and your other member. Your members knew you and Hyunjin were in a relationship, and so did the other Stray Kids. However, your fans had no idea.

Suddenly, when you leaned down to give him a compliment, the camera panned your way, making it look like you two were kissing. You pulled away quickly, and was left in a blushing state. Hyunjin leaned back in his seat. “Kiss his forehead.” Your friend stated.

“What?” You asked, but she only smiled. “Just do it, the camera is off of you now.”

You sighed and leaned in to kiss his soft head, suddenly your friend tapped your shoulder, the camera man was right in-front of you. You pulled away quickly, but by now it was known. All you could do was hide your face in your hands.

Hyunjin, however was plastered with a smirk as he gave a thumbs up to the camera. Looking back at you and blowing you a kiss. He did this on purpose, you cursed.

Han:

You were just minding your buisness when all of a sudden, Han comes rushing in at you, tackling you. “I missed you so much!” He states, leaning in to kiss you roughly, you push him away and motion to in-front of you.

There was so many fans standing, with their mouths open. All Han could do was stumble on his words. “Uh..”

You only smiled and turned back to him. “You’re in so much trouble!” You said hiding your laugh by a hoodie sleeve, that was actually Han’s, but he wore it only in the house, just in case your fans would see the similarity between the hoodies and sizes.

“Yes, we’re dating.” Was all you could reply to your fans, and were surprised when a couple of your fans shouted for you two to kiss again.

“No, we can’t..” You stated, but was startled when Han swooped you up and kissed you again.

“I’ll be taking her now. Love you all!” He stated, rushing with his hand in your hands. Giggling like two little children.

Felix:

You were so hungry, you craved for sweets, and you thought you said, “I want my baby Felix’s brownies.” in your head. But that wasn’t the case. You said it out loud, and Felix who was watching your live stream sat dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe you said that.

Bangchan chuckled as he scrolled through the comments. “One says, aww how sweet, Y/N and Felix.” He then turned to Felix. “They are so supportive of you two.”

Felix only smiled as he watched you, stare wide eyed at the screen. “I didn’t mean to say that.” You said, your face now blushing. But noticing the sweet comments you smiled, and continued.

“Yeah, my baby Felix. He makes me the brownies I want. The caramel ones with the frosting on top.” You hummed and licked your lips. “I love when he cooks for me.”

Bangchan smirked as he turned back to Felix. “So, are you going to bake her brownies or what? She’s obviously craving.”

Felix smiled. “Only if my baby wants it.”

Seungmin:

“I think these are Y/N’s.” He lifted up a shirt and smelled it. It had your sweet perfume on it and he pulled it close to his chest. Bangchan just so happened to walk through the door. 

“Then, why are you smelling it?” Bangchan then realized. “Wait, you and Y/N? Who would’ve known she had such bad taste.” He smirked, causing Seungmin to death glare him.

“I’m just kidding.” Bangchan apologized, but soon a curious Minho peaked his head from the corner, along with Hyunjin.

“No way!” They replied.

“Yes! How can you not believe that?”

“Hm. I just thought she would’ve picked someone else.”

“You too?” Seungmin asked, before walking out the room, only smirking because he got you after all. And he loved you so dearly.

I.N:

He smiled as he pulled you close. You head now rested on his shoulder as he kissed your head softly. You two were at bliss, he loved you, and you loved him. How could you two not be happy? However, your groups did not know you were in a relationship. Neither did your fans, but your companies did.

And to your astonishment, your companies accepted it. They didn’t care, they let you do as you two pleased. 

You closed your eyes, as you felt yourself drift to sleep. But was shook when Jeongin realized all his members were surrounding you two. You were automatically awake, as you tried to distance yourself from his hold.

“Don’t you two move away now! Go back, cuddle some more.” Felix stated, smiling at you two. “We know guys, drop the act. It accidentally slipped JYP’s lips.”

You swallowed hard as Jeongin smiled pulling you back into his arms, kissing the top of your head. “Yeah, she’s mine. Back off!”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Old and New

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by @futuremrsmalfoy20 : “Draco buys you a kitten fluff”

Summary: When you return home from work, Draco has a surprise waiting for you.

Warnings: loss of a pet, mild angst, fluff, kisses

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Thank you for such a sweet request!

Draco Malfoy was never a fan of cats, or any kind of animal for that matter. He didn’t grow up with household pets, save for his owl, but even then he wasn’t too fond of the feathered creature. He didn’t dislike them, not really, he rather was indifferent. However, you on the other hand were the complete opposite.

You had had a cat once before, finding a feline more preferable rather than the traditional owl that most students had selected for themselves. She was a fluffy black cat with miscellaneous splotches of white, striking and round green eyes that were far too adorable for you to ignore. Her name was Ophelia and she was wonderfully sweet, not a minute going by in her presence without her nudging you affectionately.

She accompanied you throughout your years of magical endeavors at Hogwarts until seventh year, and you made the decision to bring her home to your parents before the war had begun in full force. You had loved her far too dearly to risk the potential of putting her in harm’s way, she was your home away from home.

Since then, she had lived her days and nights in the blissful environment of your parents house, and you were quite sure you’d never seen her more content in an environment in your life. Always tucked away in the most unconventional of places whether it be the garden, the top shelf of your closet, or even nestled between the thick tree roots on the edge of the property. It was there where she had lived her life most contently, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

—

You sigh tiredly upon finally seeing your beloved home, smiling at the sight of the little yellow car parked on the mossy cobblestone driveway. As if it weren’t already obvious that Draco had gotten home before you, the smoke puffing out of the lone chimney and the warm glow in the frosted windows were more than enough indication. You pushed open the creaky wrought iron gate without hesitation, the sound only accentuated by the drizzling rain pattering down.

Rushing up the stone path to your front door, you push it open and escape from the rain. The warmth you were met with was immediate upon your entrance, as was the ever familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar, a hint of coffee mixed in. Your soft smile never faltered as you shrugged off your rain dampened jacket, slipping it on the copper hook just inside the door next to Draco’s.

“Love?” An ever so familiar voice called out, one that felt even more like home than that of the building the two of you claimed as your own just a year and a half ago.

You stepped out of your shoes and set them on the welcome rug, Draco appearing shortly after to see if it’d really been you. His hair was a mess from what it once neatly was before he left for work earlier that morning, the inclement weather having brought out waves of platinum. His smile was nothing short of adoring when he caught sight of you, and you barely had time to set down your keys before his hands settled on your flushed cheeks. His lips were soft against yours as he kissed you, the expected taste of coffee and cream lingering on his lips. His hands are cooled against your heated skin, but the shiver running through you was of no importance at that moment.

“Hi darling,” he manages when he brings himself to part from you, though he hadn’t strayed too far as his nose brushed against yours.

“Hey,” you sigh, his kiss nearly making you a fool no matter how short it may have been.

He tucked your hair behind your ear tenderly, the tips of his fingers tracing along your skin before traveling down your arm to grasp your hand. No matter how hard he tried, which hadn’t been very much, he finds himself capturing your lips once more in another kiss. You were far too irresistible for him not to bask in your affections.

“How was work?” He mumbles against your lips, squeezing your hands.

“Quite busy for a bookshop in the middle of the only wizarding town in the area. Peculiar isn’t it?” You respond, a laugh leaving your lips when his arms circle around your waist and press you to him in an embrace.

“Indeed,” he agrees quietly, kissing your cheek before his lips ghost across your neck and just under your ear warmly. You had to stop yourself from all but squealing at the very sensation tickling over your skin though a giggle does escape you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You inquire, brow raised in curious amusement as you push back to look at him.

“What, can’t I be overjoyed that the love of my life has come home? Forgive me, darling,” he says in faux offense, his smile still very there regardless.

You roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fully look at him for the first time you’d gotten home just minutes ago. His cheeks were a bit flushed from what you assumed was the chilly weather, that and the feeling of your kisses had brought it out of him. His icy hair had been dipping over his forehead, covering over dark brows and tangling with even darker lashes. The grin on his kiss swollen lips had been very apparent the moment you saw him, faltering only slightly when he was busy casting his affections on you in greeting. A thick, black sweater hung from his shoulders, tattered and torn around the edges from constant use when he hadn’t needed to dress so formally for St. Mungo’s. Though you couldn’t help but to notice the extra runs and pulls in the soft yarn.

“Perhaps I will if you let me change out of these clothes,” you say, reluctantly leaving his loose grasp. “It is raining after all.”

A flurry of panicked emotions had crossed over his face in that very moment, his eyes widening a fraction as you step farther from him and closer to the stairway. Your brows furrow slightly at his sudden change in attitude, watching as his hand flies up to scratch at the back of his neck. When you turn away once more you’re quick to feel his hand envelope yours, effectively stealing your attention away from the task at hand briefly. As you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I’ve already put your clothes in the dryer so they’d be warm for you, they’re in the laundry room,” he rushes, and his words are far too quick for you not to be even a little suspicious of it. “It’s that sweater of mine that you like, you know—the green one?”

He draws you closer as he speaks, noting the way your eyes squint in disbelief. Draco may have been good in the area of deception to just about anyone else, anyone but you. Not with the way his hand came to rest on your cheek, and how his thumb brushed over your skin. Certainly not with the way his bout of kisses resumed, blossoming over bare patches of skin. His valiant attempts to hold your attention had been working, but only for a few fleeting moments.

“And what if I wanted the maroon one?” You jest with a teasing smile, and with his moment of distraction you slip from his arms and make your way back to the stairs.

He finds himself at a loss for words as his panic builds with every bit of distance between you, and all he can do is follow behind and desperately try to find something else to say. When he comes up terribly short, he accepts his fate with a defeated huff.

“Darling wait!” He manages when you twist the doorknob, entering the cozy bedroom.

His face scrunches in a wince at the sight before you both, unsure of just how you’d react. For a small kitten lay curled up in a fluffy ball of snowy white fur, tucked and nuzzled into heaps of his old quidditch sweater. The small animal was seemingly unbothered by the newfound commotion that had entered the room, instead basking in the warmth of the deep green yarn. You even took notice to the lilac-colored collar fitted loosely around its neck, a small silver bell dangling from it.

You spun on your heel to face him with a raised brow, a soft smile fighting to tug at your lips and soon you couldn’t hide it. You were baffled more than anything. Draco’s cheeks were a noticeable blush pink as he offered you a hesitant smile, still looking rather panicked. “What’s this all about?”

He swallows thickly, his fingers running over his jaw in a nervous habit. “She’s…she’s ours.”

It took you a moment to process it as Draco shuffled around you, leaving you to look at the empty spot he once stood in for a brief few seconds before following where he’d walked. He scooped up the small animal with a certain gentleness that made your heart flutter in your chest, and she stretched tiredly against him. Her yawn had showcased perhaps the tiniest fangs you’d ever seen, the soft pink pads of her feet pressing to his chest.

“What do you mean?” You were still quite dumbfounded at the sudden news, your gaze flickering between the kitten cradled happily in his hands and to his hopeful face that you wouldn’t be mad at him.

“I uh…I adopted her,” he says with a nervous laugh as he looks down at her, a small meow escaping her mouth at the sound of his voice. “I know you’ve been missing Ophelia, love. And I know I’m not very fond of cats but I think I’m warming up to her, she seems to like me—”

His rambling is promptly cut off when she nips at his bottom lip, doing it again twice more before he settles her into his sweater on the bed again.

“Draco, I…”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, a myriad of emotions rushing through him that maybe you still weren’t ready for a new pet at that moment in time. “Love, I didn’t mean—”

“I love her,” you finally manage after he all but sputters apology after apology, a jittery laugh leaving you as your gaze moves to his. Your laugh only continued softly at the light swelling of his lip from where she had bit at him in a playful curiosity.

Now he was the one that had been baffled, dumbfounded. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard you correctly. “You do?”

You respond with the kiss you press on his lips, firm yet gentle as the shock you’d once been in begins to wear off and disappear completely. His persistent panic only settles then, his obvious tension relaxing as his arms snake around your waist and a sigh is breathed. You part from him only to kiss him yet again, your fingers brushing over his cheek as your smile becomes apparent. “I love her.”

The words are whispered in giddy excitement as your lips sweep across his own with soft touches, his hair brushing against your forehead in the close proximity. The exhale of his relief puffs against your skin as he kisses your cheek once, twice, even three times, your arms hugging around his neck. Your grip on him was on the verge of being too tight, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

You release him all too quickly in his opinion, but his inner complaints are quick to dissolve when he sees you grab the kitten gingerly. Her contented meow is instant in your gentle grasp, and you can’t help but kiss her tiny pink nose in a shower of affection.

All Draco could do was stand back to watch the happiness dance across your features, to listen to your delight laughs as you spoke ever so sweetly to the fluffy creature. He couldn’t help the way his heart had been hammering away in his chest at the very sight, the way his smile was unable to be controlled at the sheer excitement you held. It had diminished any last traces of worry and doubt he had that maybe it’d been too soon. That maybe it’d upset you and maybe you’d think he was expecting you to move on. Any and all fears that had plagued his mind on the subject were gone at the way you beamed.

In that moment he found he’d do just about anything to see you smile, to bring you happiness. He knows very well that he hasn’t always been the easiest person to love, far from it, he knows that his life and his prior choices have put you through more than he’d like to think about. For if he did dwell on it for too long, he’d certainly make himself miserable because it still vexes him that you could love him so fully, without hesitation. But if there had been one thing he knew with certainty, it’s that he’d go to the ends of the earth just to make you happy. He hadn’t known how he deserved you after everything, but he was determined to give you all that he could.

“Have you named her yet?” You ask, pulling him from his daze and back to you.

He was distracted for a mere moment, trying to piece together what you had said because he’d been too caught up in admiring you. “Well, I…I was thinking Ivory. I thought it would be rather cute since—what is it?”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a teasing smirk, your brow raising. “And to think you hated cats.”

He scoffs as he rolls his eyes, looking away from you to stave off his reddening cheeks.

“I do not hate them, I just never particularly liked them,” he grumbles.

“That is so untrue!” You exclaim, his gaze turning to you again, “You nearly declared war when Filch’s cat clawed you, Draco. If I recall correctly, you even said—”

Your words were cut off by his lips, for he didn’t want to hear just how right you were because you always are. So he quieted you the best way he knew how. The giggle it elicited tumbled from your lips and sounded against his mouth, fading away the more he had kissed you. After all, he had to make sure you didn’t bring up just how insufferable he once was in his childhood. But what was once an attempt to distract you became more profoundly distracting to him as your lips had him spellbound.

“Ivory is cute,” you murmur softly with another tender kiss as she paws at your hair, “and so are you, Dray.”

Her little meows have pulled your focus from each other and directed it towards the kitten in your arms who so openly expressed her feelings. Draco took her from your hands and kissed her head, and it was then that your quiet laughter erupted. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say as you try to stifle it, earning a narrowed stare. “You two look alike is all.”

His gaze only hardens at you before he looks at her, her pale blue eyes and icy hair too obvious a comparison to himself. But he will never admit that to you, you’re having way too much fun with it as it is. “No, we don’t.”

Your joyous laughter sounds once more, bringing the softest of smiles to his face. “Whatever you say, my love.”

In that moment your heart was full, because now you had not one love but two. The gesture was wonderfully thoughtful and entirely what you felt you missed, and while nothing could replace your treasured Ophelia no matter how many years have passed, now you could appreciate the old and new.

—

Tags: @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @awritingtree @harrysweasleys @dracosathenaeum @snitches-at-dawn​ @lunalovecroft​

[storiesofwildfire]

"Don't chase the rabbit" (Fan!)

@forsakenmyths

meme: send me “Don’t chase the rabbit” and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse’s past – status; accepting

♔—- “Our dear friend is banished to Earth! Loki sits on the throne of Asgard as our King! And all you have done is eat two boars, six pheasants a side of beef and drink two barrels of ale! Shame on you!” Fandral shouted at Volstagg, knocking over a plate of food at his friend’s side before he really had time to think about what was truly coming out of his mouth, what his friends would think of what he was implying rather than what he actually meant.

He and Loki had always been close. Closer than either of them truly let on. Most didn’t know that Loki was the reason Fandral came to Gladsheim in the first place, that Loki had been the one to encourage him to seek something better, and that Loki ultimately led Fandral to Sigurd, who didn’t just gloss over him as a pretty boy who happened to be good with a sword, but a proper, respectable agent.

In truth, Fandral loved Loki dearly, and he often questioned just how deep his love for the younger prince actually ran. Part of him desperately wanted something more than friendship, while most of him understood that a public relationship with the prince of Asgard wasn’t practical or appropriate for either of them, especially on Loki’s part. Most of Gladsheim might have just assumed Fandral came from some sort of nobility, but Loki knew the truth. Nothing more than the son of a farmer and certainly not a suitable match for a royal who may one day obtain the throne.

Fandral even believed Loki was better suited for the position. As much as Fandral genuinely cared for, loved, and respected Thor, he’d spent quite a lot of time with the thunderer, watching the way that he handled moments of extreme stress, and how irrationally hot-headed he was. Thor was the break-noses-now-ask-questions-later type and with how egotistical he could be mixed with how easy it was to wound his pride, he often jumped the gun to violence in times when diplomacy would have been far more appropriate. 

He never meant to imply that Loki being on the throne was the wrong decision. He never meant to imply that they couldn’t trust Loki sitting on the throne. He never meant to rally up anyone’s nerves despite his pointed comments to Volstagg, he was just… having a difficult time processing everything that unfolded in front of him.

Thor convinced them all to rush off to Jotunheim, where they killed well over one hundred Frost Giants because of Thor’s ego. The battle resulted in a life-threatening injury that he was still not fully recovered from, and just thinking about it made his shoulder ache. The open vest he wore with no undershirt might have seemed flashy and unnecessary, but the truth was, putting heavier fabrics on the still-healing wound only served to hurt him further. His vest was more or less all he could handle at the moment without risking becoming even more frazzled.

And then Odin banished Thor, fell into Odinsleep immediately after, and left the throne to Frigga, who immediately passed it onto Loki. Loki, he knew, could be a capable ruler, but something wasn’t right with the younger prince. They seemed particularly shaken, especially after their venture to Jotunheim, and whatever they were facing, they were facing alone. Something rattled the God to their core, causing an upset that made the weight of the crown crushing and Fandral feared for Loki’s wellbeing more than he really implied. He feared for Thor and for Asgard as well and having to put aside the trauma and fear of the near-death experience he just endured to deal with everything else only served to amplify his stress.

“Do not mistake my appetite for apathy!” Volstagg barked around a mouthful of whatever it was he’d moved onto devouring.

From there, the entire conversation got out of hand. Hogun was suggesting that Loki was at fault for the Frost Giants, Sif was insinuating that Loki was somehow at fault for Thor’s banishment, and they were both in an upheaval that going to Midgard and retrieving Thor despite direct orders from the king that he remain there was the only option they had. Why Sif and Hogun so openly disliked and even despised Loki, Fandral truly didn’t know. As far as he could tell, Loki had never done anything to either of them to warrant such hatred. Harmless pranks and backhanded comments that were no worse than what Thor’s friends dished out, but nothing to justify such… raw hatred.

They were talking about committing treason purely because they didn’t want Loki on the throne.

Loki hadn’t even proved to be an irresponsible or misplaced king. He wasn’t at fault for Jotunheim. He wasn’t at fault for Thor’s betrayal and, genuinely, he wasn’t wrong about how it would look if he–the new and supposedly temporary king–overturned his predecessor’s last decree as king. Loki bringing Thor home would have undermined Odin’s rule and shown a blatant lack of respect for the king that came before them. 

Fandral hadn’t meant to contribute to the ramblings of angry warriors ready to jump off the edge of treason and yet, as Sif and Hogun egged one another on, it seemed very blatant to him that he’d done just that. His words had been interpreted in a manner that made it seem as if he wanted Loki off the throne as much as they did and now that the first domino had fallen, there was no stopping it. 

Had he not said anything at all… Had he kept his frustrations internalized and kept his damn mouth shut rather than blurting out the first string of anguish he could muster to try and express everything that ran through his mind, maybe they wouldn’t have come to that conclusion at all.

Logically, Fandral knew that Sif and Hogun had already been thinking along these lines, that they would have been prepared to commit treason even without Fandral’s little outburst, but the swordsman couldn’t help but feel responsible. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders, especially as any further attempt he made to soothe his friends’ rage towards Loki and persuade them away from thoughts of acting against the crown went completely unheard. Now that Sif and Hogun agreed, there was little stopping them, and as good of a person as Volstagg was, it was sort of easy to bulldoze over him and convince him to go along with just about anything. With both Sif and Hogun chatting in his ear, he’d probably give in to their ridiculous whims in a matter of moments.

Before the four of them could even decide firmly on what they would going to do and, more importantly, before Fandral could have an ample chance to talk his friends off the ledge, Heimdall summoned all four of them to his home at the end of the Bifrost. As the Watcher of Yggdrasil and Asgard’s first line of defense, they all knew that he could see everything and anything he wanted. He likely saw the argument and talks of treason as well, and Fandral prayed that Heimdall called them all to talk some sense into them or, at the very least, to close the Bifrost to them.

Instead, he only instigated the situation further.

“You would defy Loki, our king, break every oath you have sworn as Asgardian warriors and commit treason by bringing Thor back?” Heimdall asked, to which Sif answered on behalf of all four of them that they absolutely would. “Good!” Heimdall exclaimed as he let go of the hilt of Hofund, the sword Heimdall used to control the Bifrost.

“Then you’ll help us?” Volstagg asked, confirming Fandral’s suspicion that he would be easily persuaded to go along with this ridiculous plan.

“I am bound by my oath. I cannot open the Bifrost to you,” Heimdall said in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested he wasn’t willing to help them. Still, he stepped away from the platform that held Hofund and the mount that would open the Bifrost.

Fandral’s heart sank in his chest. Never in a thousand years would he have imagined Heimdall would willingly betray Loki in such a manner. Heimdall had a strong connection to the young king, after all, so why… Why was he even willing to do this? To turn a “blind eye” and let Thor’s friends commit treason against their new king? Did he have some sort of ulterior motive or was he truly turning his back on Loki?

“Complicated fellow, isn’t he?” Fandral asked meekly as he watched Heimdall saunter off, his last hope of shutting his friends down following after the Watcher. ‘Why, Heimdall? Why did you do this? Had you not gotten involved, we would have been stuck here…’ Fandral couldn’t help but think, but as disappointed as he was to watch Heimdall leave, he was more disappointed in himself for being the one to start all of this. He hadn’t meant to, but intentions meant nothing. Actions and the result of those actions meant everything.

Would Loki ever forgive him for this?

“My friends,” he continued, turning to the trio that stood before him. “Please, let us reconsider this. We are all distressed by Thor’s absence, but Loki has given us no reason to believe he will make for a bad king. Committing treason against Loki seems extreme.”

“Hypocritical, coming from the man who seemed so distraught by the idea of Loki sitting on the throne in the first place,” Sif murmured, though she and Hogun were already hovering closely around Heimdall’s purposefully forgotten sword. “Weren’t you just complaining about it?”

“Yes, I can see how my words came off poorly,” Fandral agreed. “But I didn’t mean for this. I was venting frustration, not trying to rally actual betrayal. Please, be reasonable. If we do this, we’re committing treason, not only against Loki but against Asgard. Odin banished Thor, not Loki. Would it not be better to stay and try to assist our new king to get through these troubling times? We can help Loki–”

“Or we can help Asgard by dethroning Loki all together!” Sif snapped as she took hold of Hofund’s hilt to activate the Bifrost. Fandral felt like he might be sick. Gods, he felt like he actually might double over and expel the contents of his stomach across the floor. How had one moment of venting understandably conflicting and confusing emotions lead to this? How could he let his own feelings get in the way of what needed to be done?

Loki would never forgive him for this, but Fandral wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself either.

‘This is all my fault…’

[silver-greedling]

Happy Birthday, Babe

Zen (Hyun Ryu) x Reader

"Babe!" I shouted as I heard the front door closing. I stood from my spot at the table, walking into the main entrance to hug him. "You're finally home!"

"You act like I've been gone for years," he teased, running his hands through my hair. I rolled my eyes.

"It felt like you were gone for years," I sighed. "Time is worthless when you're gone."

He smiled and kissed me quickly, then started to walk into the kitchen with his arm around my waist. When he saw my laptop and a stack of papers on the table, his shoulders tensed a little. "Did Jumin...really give you all of this work?" he asked, looking down at me.

I shrugged. "It's not really that much," I assured him. "I'll be finished before you know it."

He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "You go to bed. I'll be back there quicker than you can blink."

I kissed his cheek, and he sighed defeatedly. "Okay, but don't work too hard," he said. He squeezed me into a hug, then trudged off to the bedroom.

With him gone, I smiled and got down to "working". I sent a text to Seven, making sure that what I asked for was gonna happen, and he responded that my request would be fulfilled. A moment later, he sent me a link to a website, and I thanked him immensely.

707:

Here u go

Dont trust it too much

MC:

Thx i owe u my life

707:

U owe me more than that

MC:

R u saying my life isnt worth enough for u?

There wasn't a response, and I assumed he had nothing to combat that, so I just set my phone down and followed the link.

An hour later, I had a decent cake, frosted and with Zen's name over the top in icing. I smiled, gently putting it into the fridge, then padding to our bedroom.

Zen was sitting cross legged, just scrolling through something on his phone. Possibly the tripter bot Seven had made a while ago.

"Bedtime," I sighed loudly, stepping into the bathroom to change. "Give me five minutes."

I made quick work of stepping out of my clothes and into some pajamas, and I left the bathroom to fall next to Zen on the bed.

"Fancy seeing you here," I joked, watching him smile and set his phone to the side. He laid down next to me, moving so my back was to his chest and he was spooning me. This offered me a perfect view of the analog clock next to the bed, which currently read 11:47 pm. Thirteen minutes.

For thirteen minutes, I played with Zen's fingers or talked about whatever would come to mind, trying to make the time pass as fast as I could. The minutes ticked away slowly.

It turned to 11:59 pm, and all of my words fell. There was only a minute left. I fidgeted with Zen's fingers, growing nervous every second.

Midnight hit, and I whirled around in Zen's arms. He seemed shocked when I grabbed his waist in a hug and buried my face in his neck.

"Happy birthday, babe!" I yelled, smiling. After a moment of recoil, Zen laughed and squeezed me. His hand rubbed my back soothingly.

"Thank you," he said, kissing the top of my head. "I'm so glad I hear it from you before anybody else."

"Want to come get your gift?" I asked, smiling as sweetly as I could. "I made it all by myself...with Seven's help."

He laughed again, then nodded. Excitedly, I jumped off of the bed and pulled on his arm, tugging my laughing boyfriend into the kitchen. I had him sit at the table, then got into the fridge and took out the cake. When I placed it in front of him, his smile grew, ans we locked eyes for a moment.

"You're too sweet to me," he sighed, standing up and wrapping his arms around my waist and putting his forehead on mine. "You're way too good for me."

I shook my head. "No, you deserve more than a homemade cake," I admitted. "This is just all that I can give you. I'm sorry it's not much."

Zen's expression was pure shock. "Are you kidding?" he said, eyes searching mine. "You're perfect, and so is your gift! I know you put time and thought into it, and I love this. I love you."

I smiled back. "I love you, too."

His hand went to my cheek, and he kissed me. I put my own hands on his shoulders, standing on my toes to reach him.

After a few minutes of that, I was cutting the little cake into pieces, trying not to make them too big or small. I gave the first piece to Zen, but he insisted that we eat it together, so I cut myself a piece and we took a bite at the same time.

"This is so good!" he praised, just before he shovelled another bite into his mouth. I had to admit, it did taste good. I took another bite, too.

He glanced at me after we had finished. "Seriously," he said, "this was amazing. Thank you, so much."

I nodded. "It's bed time, now. Let's clean up and go to sleep, okay?"

Zen agreed, and he put the dishes in the sink while I put the cake in the fridge. When we finished, I took his hand and we went to bed together.

For the first time in years, Zen felt no need to stay awake, waiting for his friends or fans to send a birthday text or validate him. For the first time in years, he fell asleep on his birthday. He was happy with his present.

He was happy with me.

(Dedicated to @spalacloset and @to-my-better-half , my mysme friends whom I love dearly)

[alexanderwrites]

Thoughts Roundup - Twin Peaks: The Return, Part 16

“No knock, No doorbell”

There are moments in pop culture history that I always feel envious about - envious because I wish i’d been there to experience it them as they happened. I wish I could’ve seen Talking Heads perform live, I wish I could have seen The Shining in cinemas when it was first released, and I wish I could have watched the original run of Twin Peaks when it first aired. The thing about the desire to have experienced these things as they happened is directly tied to the environment they’re released into, and the effect they had on the public at the time. You can get the blu ray of Stop Making Sense, you can find The Shining screenings in independent cinemas, and you can buy the Twin Peaks boxset. But what I really want is to know what it felt like to see Twin Peaks every week, at a time when Dynasty and L.A Law were as exciting as TV got. I want to have been a part of those conversations that people had about the show. I want to know how people like my Mum felt when she watched it back in 1990 (for the record, she hated it. She’s got great taste, but Twin Peaks was decidedly too weird, according to her). 

I came along to Twin Peaks ten years ago, when the show had vanished from the conversation and was yet to have a second life thanks to the likes of Netflix and Hulu. David Lynch’s work was alien and exciting to me - I remember seeing a Fire Walk With Me VHS in HMV years before and asking my Mum just what it was. I remember seeing clips of Blue Velvet late at night and being terrified of it. And finally, I remember seeing clips from Twin Peaks’ last episode being featured on a countdown of the 100 Scariest Moments on Channel 4. That’s when I knew I had to find out just what the fuck it was all about. And I have such fond memories from 2007 & 2008, of obsessing over the show, watching episodes on summer evenings in my room, excited about waking up the next day so I could tell my Mum and Brother about it. The thing that the experience missed is a feeling of communality. The moments in the show that rocked my world and made me feel a way i’d never felt before were experienced solely by me, in a tiny bedroom, on a portable DVD player. The moments that, when they first aired had people all over the world talking now felt like they were being seen in 2007 only by me. But now, ten years on, as Twin Peaks: The Return heads towards the finish line and its biggest moments reverberate from it with electric power, I finally get to have what I never had before: the experience of watching it with the world. The only other show I experienced that with was Lost, a show I watched religiously and passionately. But The Return feels different - it feels bigger. 

You can feel that there are fans who’ve waited 10, 20, 25, years for it, and it carries the extra weight of knowing that this really might be David Lynch’s last filmic or televisual outing. Think about that for a second. This week might be the last time we can say that we have David Lynch’s work to look forward to. He’s spoken about how he’s moving away from films and towards visual arts, and at 71, going back to the world that forever cemented his name in the Pop Culture canon could be the most perfect swan song of his career. As a result, every episode feels loaded and essential, and with the events of tonight’s episode, it feels like we’re seeing something iconic take place. We are reacting together. We are experiencing it together. I’ve had conversations about it with my girlfriend, a bunch of friends, family members, and some randomers online for good measure. These are those shared experiences i’d longed for. 14 year old me, watching monumental television unfold and wishing he had someone to share it with is being rewarded every week, and I’ve never felt more rewarded than I felt with part 16 and its own monumental developments.

Dale Cooper is awake. Finally. Whether you’ve waited a season, or 27 years, nobody can deny the immense satisfaction that this development delivers. It feels huge. It feels iconic. It feels like something truly good and pure occurring in a bleak world. I got tearful, I laughed, I smiled so wide my face hurt. I didn’t realise how badly I needed Dale back. How badly the world needs Dale back. “People are under a lot of stress” notes Rodney Mitchum tonight. They certainly are. Whether they’re residents of Twin Peaks or Las Vegas, the characters throughout this return have resided in a world of hurt. It feels sharply current, and a reflection of an America that feels broken. Out of the pain, through the pain - through a violent electric shock that is - returns to us Dale Cooper, the hero we both need and deserve. He is Lynch and Frost’s testament to goodness, their monument to the power of kindness. The electrical power that has given him new life like some kind of benevolent Frankenstein’s monster is finally used for goodness, a reminder that a thing which can contain evil is not entirely comprised of that evil. There is room for goodness - the Mitchum brothers have hearts of gold, as Dale (it feels SO FUCKING GOOD to finally be able to write “Dale”) tells them. Janey-E and Sonny Jim are good people caught up in someone else’s awful web. Dale is a good man who promises that he will one day walk through that red door and come home for good. For now, he’s walked through that red curtain and is back home with us. Whether he himself comes back to Janey-E and Sonny Jim, or whether a copy of him (he tells Mike to make another) takes his place, I adore the humanity and warmth his family is written with. They are dearly cared about by Lynch and Frost.

Dale remembers every moment with the Joneses. It meant something. It filled his heart up, and kept him going, and Dale’s poignant sincerity - god, i’ve missed it - tells her this honest truth. The miraculous and thrilling thing about his awakening is there is no need to stop and explain everything to Dale. There is no catchup. He is awake, dressed in his sharp black suit within moments, and is on the way to Twin Peaks while the main theme chimes in cathartically, and here he proclaims: “I am the FBI”. I cannot think of a greater, more exciting and meaningful moment in TV. I have goosebumps just thinking of it. If The Return has all been about trying to return to something that once was and the difficulties surrounding that, then this episode seems to posit the optimistic and moving idea that some things will always be. Like Laura Palmer and the Log Lady, Dale Cooper always will be, and it is hard not to take great comfort in that fact. Like the river running through the town, or the moon overhead each night, the forces of good will always exist, even if they are reborn. It needed to take 16 episodes. It needed to feel earned. And it needed to make its point, which it has with powerful brilliance. 

The comfort of Dale’s return is contrasted by Doppelcoop’s pretty un-fatherly sacrificing of Richard Horne, who it’s revealed through a casually mumbled line, is (or was) Doppelcoop’s son. Doppelcoop’s headlights are still probing the road in front of him, still pushing onwards into that darkest of night, and there is a feeling of dread every time we see these headlights, waiting for them to illuminate the iconic “Welcome to Twin Peaks” sign. It is just a matter of time. Richard is destroyed by an electric light that engulfs him, and possibly whisks him away to the black lodge. The question is open of who sent Doppelcoop here, exactly? It seems to have been a trap designed to wipe him out, and it seemingly came from either Jeffries or Diane. His coldness and his manipulative ease is frightening here - he has known all along that Richard is his son, and feels nothing upon seeing his son killed. And Richard follows his father’s orders in a perverse mirror image of the people who follow Dale’s orders. He marches happily into the darkness where he is killed because that is Doppelcoop’s power: if he tells you to do something, you do it. With Dale, you listen to him similarly, but not from fear - instead from respect and love. Dale has always been a delightfully bossy person, but because Doppelcoop has twisted Dale’s goodness into evil, he has taken that friendly bossiness and turned it into a dictatorship of demands. If you don’t listen to Doppelcoop, you die. If you do listen to him, you’ll probably die anyway. 

Diane, we hardly knew ye. Well, maybe that should be DoppelDiane. We knew something was wrong - every moment she was on screen, Laura Dern masterfully sold Diane’s trembling dread with a wild intensity that was both all-knowing and untouchably distant. She was full of secrets, and Doppelcoop’s text to her (nice to see that lodge spirits use emoticons!) seems to have triggered something inside Diane which sent those secrets pouring out of her. The revelation that she is not the real Diane but instead a manufactured Diane sounds crazy, but suddenly everything about her makes sense. A real tortured Diane is in there somewhere, or at least her memories are, and perhaps if she is in the same place as Laura there is a distant hope that she is safe, or can be brought back. Doppelcoop has throughout the years been playing god. He has manufactured people, he has manipulated people, he has bent everything to his will, and Diane is an example of what that does to a person. She disappears after being shot in a wildly intense sequence, and her body is viciously flung, disappears, and then winds up in the red room. Here, She is destroyed. So, where is the real Diane? Where is her soul? What happens to people like her and Laura? It is heartbreaking to find out that all along, she was just a pawn, and her story of what Doppelcoop did is even more heartbreaking. It’s a sad end - but is it the end? I’m certain I heard her say “i’m in the sheriff’s station” in this scene, which seems to be where all the story threads are heading towards. I can’t help but think of Judy. Whoever she is, she’s got a LOT of explaining to do.

Gary and Chantal, we hardly knew ye, either. Their end is hilariously overblown. A fender bender turns into the most ludicrously violent uzi-led shootout, and it really is down to their own stupidity. They were vocal supporters of violence, and they died fittingly violent deaths - deaths which echo Bonne & Clyde, except Gary and Chantal aren’t really so romantic. They’re just two dumdums who eat a lot of crisps and mess up simple tasks. 

Audrey’s scenes tonight gave us the double rug pull. The first was “Surprise! She is in the real world”, and the second was a bigger “Surprise! Of course she’s fucking not!”. There was something so uncanny and strange happening with her throughout the last episodes, and Diane’s claim that she’s not herself tonight called back to Audrey’s similar claim in a previous episode. Her appearance at the Roadhouse feels realistic enough, until the MC announces Audrey’s Dance, the song she danced to all those years ago, and the crowd moves off the stage so that she can dance dreamily once again. The moment is inexplicable and as hypnotic now as it was then. However, where it once felt otherworldly in a wonderful sense, it now feels laced with menace and literal dreaminess - a violent altercation in the Roadhouse wakes Audrey up, and suddenly she is in a bright white room staring at herself in a mirror in confusion. The beautiful dream, the gorgeous music, the perfect concoction that sent nostalgic goosebumps up our arms is coldly revealed to be quite literally unreal. She is somewhere else now, where the lush purple lighting of the Roadhouse has been replaced with a blinding clinical whiteness. Her dance - so joyous and soulful - is snatched away from us and replaced with uncertainty once again. Is she somewhere with Laura and Diane, or someplace else entirely? I think we will find out, but what matters is that she is not here, she is not herself, and the dream has ended. 

It is incredible the range of emotions that an episode of Twin Peaks can stir. The questions I want answered most are clinging to me tightly - who is Judy and what does Doppelcoop want? - but the overall feeling I get from The Return and from this episode is not of confusion, but overwhelmed emotion. An episode where Dale speaks would in itself be enough to knock you out, but with everything else that happens, the episode is a behemoth - yet it is carefully written and plotted. Despite the questions, I didn’t get lost in the weeds, and the return of Dale feels like a moment of shining clarity to help you through. There is a feeling of togetherness and unity now that Dale is awake again, and a sense of safety that wasn’t present before. And so, we head into the final week of Twin Peaks maybe ever. And like the millions that we are sharing this experience with, tonight’s episode is about sharing our experiences with others - be it Diane sharing her experiences with the FBI, Dale sharing his life with Janey-E and Sonny Jim, or the Mitchum Brothers sharing their generosity with the Jones family. It’s about the power of sharing, of not living alone. And while it may be painful (Diane), or beautiful (Dale and Janey-E), it is essential that we share the experience. It’s the source of goodness, and the goodness is now wide awake in Twin Peaks. 

[alexanderwrites]

Thoughts Roundup - Twin Peaks: The Return, Part 10

“Laura Is The One”

After the wild, nuts-to-the-wall freakout that was Part 8, Parts 9 & 10 have returned us to a more conventional mode of storytelling - it should be noted that “conventional” is used here very loosely, and that by episodic TV standards, these episodes are still pretty nuts-to-the-wall. Maybe part 8 pushed its nuts THROUGH the wall whereas 9 & 10 just gently press the nuts up against the wall. Maybe I should drop this analogy altogether and get into what was a slow, ruminative but intensely powerful hour of TV. (Also - I didn’t do a write up last week because i’m stupid and forgot).

. The violence against women in this episode can’t be ignored. It’s right there, front and centre. We start with Horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE Richard Horne being his horrible self and killing (or at least brutally attacking, she seemed to still be breathing) a witness to his earlier hit and run, before we move on to Amanda Seyfried’s Becky, who is viciously attacked by her ALSO HORRIBLE boyfriend. The trifecta is completed when Richard heads to his Grandma’s for a vicious, intrusive robbery. There is commentary on violence towards women here: when Robert Knepper’s Rodney is accidentally swatted in the face by Candie, it leaves a small mark, but no harm is really done. She is beside herself the rest of the scene, wailing and crying and overridden with guilt and fear. She feels genuine sorrow - contrast this with Richard’s nonchalance towards his violence against women and we start to get a look at how disparately different victims of violence are treated. 

The violence on display is as much about our perception of gender roles and their function within narratives as it is about highlighting how HORRIBLE these characters are. Having said that, it would be nice to see more female characters with a little more agency in the foreground. I do wish we had some more diversity when it came to leading women in the show (not to mention the almost non-existence of women of colour in the show) to counter-balance the violence against them. I believe the characters ARE there, but due to the unimaginably huge roster of characters, a lot of them are shuffled to the back. It’s a shame because you know what? I could watch an entire hour of Jane Adams’ Constance. She’s such a charmingly funny and unique character, and every time she turns up I hope she’ll get more than a few lines. Diane is similarly fascinating, but because of the narrative structure (and this and last week’s revelations), she’s being kept at arm’s length. A great character again, but I hope she isn’t absent in future episodes like she was tonight. Luckily we have Janey-E (Naomi Watts is just the greatest of all time and I won’t hear any arguments against it) as a prominent character, and she is a fascinatingly complex one, as she swings from being weirdly performative to achingly sincere. It’s easy to list a whole bunch of other great female characters, but I suppose what I wish is that they were more central to the plot in a positive way. Twin Peaks couldn’t be Twin Peaks without violence. It’s one of the things that the show is fundamentally about, and furthermore, how we react to, or DON’T react to that violence. But I don’t know that we need three scenes of it in one episode to highlight that. Then again, discomfort was probably the intent. We’re meant to feel like something deeply wrong is happening, and if that’s the intention then this episode succeeded. 

. I talked about that more than I expected, so moving on! Nadine got the moment of the night for me when her Silent Drape Runner store was revealed. Get it, girl!! I adore Nadine, the absolute weirdo. I dearly, dearly hope we get more of her over the next 8 episodes. It’s almost impossible to see how she could tie in to the central story which is a shame because she’s one of the most fun people to watch on the show. 

. The scenes with Cooper were a mix of hilarious and tragic, as they tend to be. It is both understandable and unfathomable how Janey-E could find him attractive - on the one hand, the doctor’s scene reveals how scarily in shape he is. No one’s blaming her for checking him out. On the other hand....come on. You’re attracted to the guy who drinks coffee like it’s a sippy cup of ribena? It’s a funny notion, but also a little sad because it makes you realise how starved for warmth and affection she probably is, as anyone would be. Him, too. Their sex scene is initially pretty funny because of Kyle Maclachlan’s fucking expressions (literally). Man, he has proven himself to have adept comic skills this year - as well as pretty much every other acting skill known to the profession. But as they lie together afterwards, it feels poignant again. It’s another reminder of how close yet far away our Coop is, and as much as I want him to find himself, I want Janey-E to be happy and find herself, too. She’s been put through some shit, having unwittingly married a non-human doppelganger manufactured by an evil entity who has escaped from another dimension. That’s a lot for one person. Plus she’s named Janey-E. How unlucky can one person be?

. I sort of liked the stuff with Jim Belushi and Robert Knepper. They give a couple of very intense and solid performances, but the problem for me was that it’s another complex storyline being introduced so deep into the series. If it’s one that lasts a few episodes - fine. But i’d almost like to see their part wrapped up - or advanced dramatically - by next week, mainly because there are more interesting threads the one these two linger on. I want more Doppelcoop. I want the Bookhouse Boys heading to the black lodge. I want more Patrick Fischler rather than the guys he gives orders to. It’s hard to judge from episode to episode which assortment of characters you’ll get, and it’s starting to feel like this series’ logline should’ve adapted an existing catchphrase: “Twin Peaks is like a box of Gormonbozias: You never know what creamed corn nightmare you’re gonna get”. I personally am happy with whatever assortment we get, but getting Belushi and Knepper’s characters is like getting a pretty nice plain milk chocolate when I could be getting a delicious hazelnut deluxe. It’s not bad at all, just...perfectly fine. 

. When it comes to Diane and her relationship with Doppelcoop, i’m utterly intrigued and utterly uninterested in guessing where it’ll go. There will be a million theories floating out there about how and why they’re in contact, but i’d rather just watch the story play out rather than guess ahead. It’s a very cool development though, and Cole’s vision of Laura at the door was completely disarming and haunting. Again, I don’t really want to guess ahead at how Laura will play into the following episodes, but we know she will. That’s enough for me. I’ve been browsing the Twin Peaks reddit lately (I know...I know) and i’ve gotta admit i’m waring very thin from it. Not EVERYTHING is a thing, guys. I’m beginning to think all the fan theories are detracting from the story, when really i’d rather just experience the ride. We can’t outsmart Frost and Lynch and they’ll tell us what they want and in the manner they want to. And anyway, more interesting than a tenuous “it’s all set in another dimension and i have proof!” theory is something that put maybe the biggest smile on my face yet: ALBERT ON A DATE!!! With CONSTANCE!! How utterly delightful. I guess he’s got over his love of Harry Truman, then. 

. I really thought we were going to get Audrey this episode, as we inch closer and closer towards her through her horrible bastard son. Seeing more of Johnny this season has been a surprise, but from what happens to him tonight, not a pleasant one. It is fully heartbreaking watching him try to wriggle out of his restraints to rescue his Mum, and a pretty solid metaphor for so many of the male characters on the show: When a woman is being hurt, the men are impotent to help. For Johnny, it’s understandable that he can’t, the poor guy. But for the other men? It’s not that they can’t, it’s that they won’t. Harry Dean Stanton’s Carl plays a lovely old folk song outside his trailer, looking briefly torn up when he sees a mug go flying through a trailer window, the sound of a furious male voice growling from inside. Does he go and intervene? He doesn’t. And he’s a ‘good guy’, right? I re-watched Blue Velvet again yesterday, and was blown away by how full of shit Jeffery Beaumont’s good-guy image is. Like Carl, when he sees Dorothy’s attack, he doesn’t step in. He just watches. This seems to be a recurring theme with Lynch: those who see violence against women stand by and allow it to happen. And there ARE Carls everywhere, who’d rather say “That’s sad but not my business” than stand up and help. What happens to the Woman who witnesses evil (ie Richard’s hit and run) and tries to report it? She’s destroyed by a Man. God, it’s heartbreaking. The layers of commentary get deeper even as I write this, and I realise things about this episode I hadn’t thought of. I think part 10 is the most troubling and divisive, yet most fiercely critical yet. 

. And then, we get a surprise I truly wasn’t expecting: more of The Log Lady. Maybe the most iconic, important and wise character on the entire show, leading us onwards through the dark night. God bless the log lady, and god bless Catherine Coulson. Every word she speaks is fraught with such pain and feeling, and it’d be a fucking sin for us to not cherish every word of it. I found myself listening to her words just as Hawk does - with eyes almost closed, in utter silence, revering them and their power. At the centre of this Season, underneath it all, the real heroes are Hawk and The Log Lady. It is so nice, so utterly refreshing to have such a pure moment of goodness and beauty, and for it to be between a Woman written with true agency and a Native American Man who has risen to protect his town - two beautiful souls who are stepping in to save the day that the white dudes have repeatedly fucked right up. It’s a gorgeous scene, and it segues into a road house performance that is easily my favourite of the year so far. Rebekah Del Rio’s performance of No Stars (No surprises, it was co-written by David Lynch) is haunting and it feels like a turning point for the series - from here on in, the darkness in the woods around Twin Peaks is out in full force. Perhaps this is why the episode is so aggressive. I left this terrific episode feeling unsettled and troubled - and that’s exactly how we’re supposed to feel. There’s a bad moon rising over Twin Peaks. 

“But in these days the glow is dying. What will be in the darkness that remains?”