#i WILL bring up my 10 page character information doc on him

[tanzanite-zircon]

I posted 204 times in 2022

23 posts created (11%)

181 posts reblogged (89%)

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I tagged 134 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#rottmnt - 14 posts

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#rottmnt movie - 6 posts

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#new kid sp - 5 posts

#south park - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 82 characters

#anyone else disappointed that he didn’t do a tmnt reference for the turtle segment

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The Fractured but Whole: Freedom Pals Unite! Chapter 3: Pick a class, any class

I watch Doctor Timothy back up his wheelchair to the center of the room as my new teammates line up on both sides of him. Mysterion and Toolshed stand on his right side while Tupperware and Wonder Tweek stand on his left.

(Maybe my initiation isn’t over yet.)

[New kid, before you can go out into the field, we will need to brief you on our origins.]

(Oh right, Timmy told me he was going to tell me about their start.) I nod my head to let them know to start their story.

[Toolshed has probably mentioned this to you before, but we were all once members of another superhero franchise called Coon and Friends. Our leader was, of course, The Coon and there were ten members in total. I was in the process of developing movies, television shows, video games, and other programs for everyone to earn large sums of money for the team. However, my ideas were tossed aside by The Coon and replaced with his own. We split off to form Freedom Pals once we saw his biased franchise plan.]

“The Coon’s franchise plan screwed each of us over,” Toolshed exclaims, “While we had at most one program each, everyone who stayed with Coon and Friends had around five or even more programs for themselves!”

“We treat each other as equals here,” Mysterion softly growls, “but The Coon only looks out for himself. He built us into a pyramid and put himself on top!”

“Our franchise was doing great at first,” Tupperware adds, “We had one hundred followers on our Coonstagram page. By my calculations, we would have doubled in fans in a few hours, but The Coon started stealing credit for our heroic deeds and swindled us out of our past leads on the crime syndicate.”

“To make matters worse,” Wonder Tweek growls, “his teammates are starting to stoop to his level and stealing our missions. Kyle, Jimmy, Clyde, … even my ex-boyfriend.” I jump back at the last few words.

(Woah, Wait! You and Craig broke up?!)

[As you can see, the split resulted in bad feelings and nearly broken relationships, but we believe we made the right choice in splitting off. And with you now on our side my friend and the lead you provided us, the tide may finally change back to our favor.]

“What new lead Doc,” Tupperware questions.

[While looking through the New Kid’s memories, he informed me of a poster The Coon had in his possession. The poster detailed a $100 reward for the return of the cat Scrambles.]

“Wait, I’ve heard that name being passed around by the top six graders on my patrols,” Mysterion declares, “Doc, do you think…”

[Indeed, I do. I believe that this Scrambles is the epicenter of the current crime wave. The police have been bringing in many stray cats these past few weeks, and from Mysterion’s investigations on the current activities of the citizens, I believe we may be dealing with the drug craze of ‘cheesing’.] I notice Mysterion flinch when Doctor Timothy said the word ‘cheesing’. I remember Kenny telling me about that ‘boob-utopia’ when I found a cat sling in his closet when we were hanging out one time with Stan, Kyle, Butters, and, sadly, Cartman. He said he gave up ‘cheesing’ long before I moved here, so I guess the mention of it would remind him of his rehab.

“You mean the crime wave is all about getting cat cheese,” Tweek shrieks.

[I know it sounds farfetched, but it would explain why the adults in our town have gone from the usual crazy to near insanity. It would also explain why the police would collect all these stray cats. I believe that someone is trying to take over our town by drugging the adults with cat urine. And Scrambles must be the bottom bitch of the whole operation. If we can secure this cat, we may be able to track down the crime boss.]

“Coon and Friends will be looking for this cat to,” Toolshed replies, “but I’m willing to bet that The Coon is only interested in the cash reward.”

(Since Cartman stole your leads before, I think it’s only fair we steal this one right under his nose … or is it whiskers?)

[I will research more about Scrambles. In the meantime, you all try to find more missions or any more leads. Tupperware, please assist our rookie with choosing a superhero class and explain the basics of the powers and combat before you depart. New Kid, once you have selected a class, come and see me for your final debriefing. I will be waiting for you in my chamber.] Doctor Timothy guides his wheelchair back to the back chamber while Wonder Tweek and Mysterion pull the space curtains apart to let him in. I feel hand clasp my shoulder. I turn my head to see Toolshed grinning from ear to ear. I can’t help but grin back.

“Told you you’d get in,” Toolshed playfully jabs, “I’ll call you if I find a mission. I’ll see you later dude.” He gives me a quick thumbs-up before trudging up the stairs. Wonder Tweek waves at me before following Toolshed. I wave back before turning my head to Mysterion. He gives me a wink before trudging up the stairs.

(This is it Sally. You’re now a Freedom Pal.) I turn my attention to the base; I never got to really look at it when Toolshed first brought me. Everything is decorated with cardboard boxes, a city backdrop, LED lights, stars and planets, and what look like to be my teammates’ superhero gear.

(It must have taken the guys hours or even a whole day to decorate this place! Maybe they’ll let me add some of my superhero stuff… if I get any.)

“Hey dude, you coming or what,” Tupperware calls. I snap out of my thoughts and head towards him. He leads me into a makeshift room with walls made of cardboard boxes and yellow masking tape forming a grid on the floor and walls.

“This is our training room,” Tupperware says, “We use virtual reality to test our powers and prepare for any disasters, crimes, or anything that could go wrong in our quiet mountain town.” I raise an eyebrow and cock my head in confusion.

(What virtual reality? There’s nothing here but tape and boxes.) I hear Tupperware give a soft chuckle as he turns towards an I-pad. He types in a code and everything suddenly goes dark. The masking tape glows a cyan blue while the walls glow a navy blue. My eyes widen as I stare around the transformed room.

(I never knew boxes and tape could do this!) Tupperware removes the I-pad from its stand and turns to face me.

“Ok New Kid,” he declares, “I’ve selected three beginner classes for you to choose from. You can choose from Speedster, Brutalist, or Blaster. Each class has different levels of brawn, brains, spunk, health, and movement. Brawn increases the damage done by melee attacks, brains increase the damage done by ranged, mental, and magic attacks, spunk increases the effects of support abilities like healing and shielding, health, of course, affects how large your maximum health is, and movement increases how many spaces you can move on the battle grid. Our training program will create a set of powers for you based on which class you choose. Here, pick the one you like the best.” He hands me the tablet. I look at the pictures of the superheroes with their specific class. I tap each picture to see their affects. Speedster and Brutalist are nearly the same; they mostly have brawn affects with one spunk affect. I then look over at the third class, Blaster. I look over its four attacks in awe.

(Great range, burn affects, and a sweet costume to boot! I think I found my class.) I press the button for select class and return the I-pad to Tupperware.

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4 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

#4

The Fractured but Whole: Freedom Pals Unite! Chapter 1: I’ve got just the ‘Toolshed’ for this problem

(… Well shit.)

I stare at the line of lava covering Cartman’s door step in annoyance. All I wanted was to play with my friends and now I’m a prisoner in Cartman’s living room. I was playing Fighters of Zaron with Kyle, Butters, Craig, Clyde, and Jimmy when Cartman suddenly jumped into his backyard dressed up as some sort of mutant racoon claiming to be from the future. Seriously, what the fuck is going on! He called us over to his house, saying that he needed help from the Fighters of Zaron and their king.

… It should be ‘queen’ since I’m actually a girl, but they’re not ready to know that yet. I might lose them and the others as my friends if they find out I’m really a girl. Cartman wouldn’t be that big of a loss, but losing Kenny, Butters, Stan, Kyle, and the others would be a huge blow. I’ll never understand why my parents force me to pretend that I’m a boy.

… Anyway, back to the flashback. I hear Craig say that they’re not playing that anymore and then Clyde said that they were all split up. What were they talking about?

(Now that I think about it, I didn’t see Kenny, Stan, Token, Tweek, or Timmy anywhere. And what did Clyde mean by they were all split up? Are they fighting again?)

I then saw Cartman holding poster showing a missing cat named Scrambles and that it would offer an award of $100 to anyone who finds Scrambles. It wouldn’t surprise me that the fatass would seize the chance to earn $100. I then heard him say something about a massive crime wave threatening our town. Some sort of crime syndicate. I then hear Clyde say that this would be too big of a problem for Coon and Friends. Cartman then asks the guys if they would rather let the Freedom Pals find Scrambles first and get the reward for their franchise.

I am just completely lost at this point. Mrs. Cartman then alerts Cartman that some sort of noise is coming from his basement. Apparently, it’s something called the Coon alert. The next thing I know, Kyle, Craig, Jimmy, Clyde, Butters, and Cartman all run out on me, Kevin, and the other two members of the Moorish tribe. Cartman just basically calls us dorks and says that we can’t play with them anymore. I try to follow him to see what’s going on but he stops me.

“Sorry Douchebag,” He snarled, “but I’m not going to let you play this game with us. Nothing you say will convince me, not even the fact that your dad fucked your mom.” He closes the sliding door of his kitchen.

(What that actual fuck! Why would he bring something like that up?)

And that now leaves me stranded in Cartman’s living room. Kevin and the others did invite me to hang out with them, but that mostly involved sulking and doing nothing. I left them at the gates of Kupa Keep and entered Cartman’s house. I noticed that there was a password lock on the basement door, so I won’t be able to get in without the code. Cartman probably has it written somewhere, but do I really want to get involved with Cartman again after last time?

I decide to try and leave his house, but that’s where the lava comes in. I can feel heat from the Lego brick lava pile covering the steps. Curse my dedication to the game. Mrs. Cartman is apparently calling the police to remove the lava from the door step.

(… Ok, we can get away with calling this lava because we’re kids, but come on! How gullible is this woman? … Come on Sally, stay focused. Maybe I can climb the fence of Cartman’s backyard to get out.) I turn on my heels and slowly walk back towards the backyard.

I suddenly hear the sound of crunching snow. I turn back towards the open door and notice a kid decked out with power tools talking into his wrist.

“Yeah. I’ll be there in five minutes Mysterion. Toolshed out!”

(Toolshed? … Wait. I recognize that voice. Is that… Stan? It is!) As he ends his call with this ‘Mysterion,’ he turns towards Cartman’s house and notices me.

“Douchebag,” I hear him say, “What are you doing here?”

The only answer I can give him is a quick glance at the lava. I had become used to being silent, since my family tries to isolate me from other people most of the time. They have been able to determine what I want to say by looking at my eyes or body language.

“Oh, that’s why,” Stan replies, “Ok, hang on. I’ll take care of it.” He then jogs over to Cartman’s garage and opens the garage door. He comes back carrying a small portable generator. I watch as he plugs in a large jack-hammer shaped tool and points it at the lava.

“Stand back Douchebag,” Stan warns, “My sandblaster is pretty powerful. I don’t want you to get hit with any lava.” I quickly nod and take two steps to my right. I hear the sandblaster reave up and the next thing I see is red bricks flying into Cartman’s living room.

“Oh, never mind,” Mrs. Cartman sings into the phone, “One of my Poopsickins’ friends took care of it.”

(… Damn this woman.)

“You can come out now dude,” I hear Stan declare. I pull myself away from the wall and walk out of living room. I greet Stan with a grateful smile. He smirks at me while twirling an electric drill with his fingers as if to say ‘You’re welcome.’ I get a better look at his costume and I have to say, it’s awesome. He’s equipped with yellow eye glasses, a white t-shirt, blue jeans, black and red tennis shoes, red and black gloves, and a utility belt.

(Hey! He’s not wearing his hat! That’s a rare sight.) I notice him looking me over.

“Dude, why are you dressed like that,” Stan questions. I wasn’t wearing the costume given to me during our raid on the Fortress of Darkness. I basically looked like Jesus without the beard he is usually seen with. My costume now consisted of black tennis shoes, blue jeans, a light blue t-shirt, a red cape, and a crown. I point towards Cartman’s backyard, showing Stan the castle of Kupa Keep.

“I thought we stopped playing that when Cartman threw the Stick of Truth into Stark’s Pond,” Stan replies.

(I thought it had more to do with the fact that Kenny became a Nazi zombie and nearly killed us.)

We didn’t exactly stop playing the game. After saving Kenny by farting on his balls, we ended the war and united the kingdoms to form the Fighters of Zaron. I was crowned a king, but I was considered lower in rank to Cartman and Kyle.

I then see Kevin and the other two boys walk out of Cartman’s living room.

“Well, I’m gonna go play Star Trek VR,” Kevin says with excitement, “Bye Johnny. Bye Andre.” He waves goodbye before walking towards his house.

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5 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

#3

The Fractured but Whole: Freedom Pals Unite! Chapter 5: Mission 1: Dolly in Danger Part 1

Mysterion and I climb down from the window pane and into Karen’s bedroom. I feel a chill run down my spine, not only due to the temperature of the room, but also, it’s condition. The room is extremely dirty, with cracks all around the ceiling and walls. The carpet is stained with mystery stains and her furniture looks like it’s about to fall apart at the seams! Her bed is only an extremely filthy mattress! Even though she decorated the walls with multiple drawn pictures of pink butterflies and flowers, the horrible sting of the overall living conditions of the McCormick household overpowers it.

It was moments like this where I really felt pity for Kenny and his family. His dad is usually drunk, almost as bad as Randy; he can’t hold down a job because of it. His mom washes dishes at the local Olive Garden, but she only earns enough for electricity, pop tarts, and frozen waffles, if she is able to keep it away from her husband and her oldest son, Kevin. Kenny seems to be the only member of the family that is trying to better their lives. He’s been working for Mr. Kim at City Wok in order to earn extra money for the house, himself, and Karen. I know that Karen would want to help the family, but she’s too young to understand how hard that is to do.

(No wonder he uses Mysterion to try and change his family’s ways.) I look over to Karen and fell my heart sink even more. Her face shows signs of healing bruises and her green coat is wrinkled and stained. Her maroon gloves look ready to unravel. Her black pants and shoes look alright, and her hair is tied into two cute little pigtails. I watch as Karen runs into Mysterion’s arms, trying hard not to cry again. Mysterion looks at me with a worried look on his face. He smooths Karen’s hair in an attempt to calm her down.

“Shhh, Karen,” Mysterion soothes, “I’m here. Tell what’s wrong.” She lifts her head from Mysterion’s chest and looks up at him. She looks like she’s about to say something, but then she turns her head to me.

“Who is that,” Karen softly asks. Mysterion looks at me and back at his sister.

“Uhh … He’s a guardian angel in training. I brought him along to learn what it means to be a guardian angel.”

(Guardian angel? … Wait, Karen called Kenny that. … Oh my gosh! Kenny, you are a saint!) I can’t help but beam at the realization of what else Kenny’s been doing as Mysterion. I see Mysterion return a soft smile before returning his attention to Karen.

“Karen, please tell us what’s wrong.” She wipes away the emerging tears from her eyes before looking back up at Mysterion.

“I wanted to play with some of the girls from my class at the playground,” Karen whimpers, “so I brought my doll so I could play too. But then these big kids came and started kicking sand at us. I tried to get away, but they pushed me to the ground. They picked on the girls I was playing with and said that hanging out with a poor kid will make them poor to. They then took all of our dolls and ran away. The girls started calling me names and blaming me for what happened. I … I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” Karen buries her face into Mysterion’s chest and bitterly cries. My heart stops sinking and starts shattering. Mysterion switches between faces of pity and anger.

“So, you’re upset that those girls blamed you for their dolls being taken away,�� Mysterion questions.

“No,” Karen squeaks as she looks back up at Mysterion, “I’m more worried about my big brother Kenny! He bought me my doll, and now it’s gone! I lost a gift from him! How can I ever face him after this?!” Karen hugs Mysterion tighter as more crystal tears fall down her cheeks. My heart shatters into dust.

(She’s more worried about Kenny being mad at her for losing her doll.) Mysterion looks as if he’s about to start crying too. He gently kisses Karen’s forehead and holds her closer.

“Karen, your brother loves you. I know that he won’t stop loving you just because your doll was taken from you. Please, don’t think like that.” Karen only continues to cry into Mysterion’s chest. Mysterion’s entire being seems to dim. He falls silent and continues to hug Karen.

 I feel the dust of my heart flare up and freeze over. You’d think our modernization would make the citizens of our quiet mountain town more cautious of how they treat one another. … Then again, they did send Officer Barbrady to kill us when we scared many homeless people away from Kenny’s house, forcing them to make camp around Shi Tpa Town and the Whole Foods. Once they learned that we were just playing ninjas, they pushed the blame onto Barbrady when he accidentally shot David. I return my attention to Karen and feel a powerful tugging at my heart. I pull out my note pad and start writing.

(It’s my duty as a Freedom Pal to help the people of this town, and Karen McCormick is one of the few people that truly deserves our help.) I finish my message and clear my throat to get Karen’s attention. As she turns her head towards me, I show her the note.

{We’ll get your doll back for you.} Karen wipes her eyes and looks at me with hope twinkling in her eyes.

“You … you will,” Karen stammers. I give her a sweet smile and confidently nod my head. Karen’s frown transforms into a wide grin as she let’s go of Mysterion and wraps her arms around my waist.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squeals in delight. I fell the pieces of my heart begin to reassemble as I pat her head. Mysterion gives me a look of pride before returning to his poker face. As Karen let’s go of me, I pull out my note pad again.

{Now, what does your doll look like?}

“She looks like this,” Karen replies. She walks over to the dresser and pulls out one of the bottom drawers. She lifts out a long, medium-sized box and hands it to me. I look at the photo of the doll at the back of the box. It has a baby-like face with rosy cheeks, pink lips, blue eyes, and long eyelashes. Its blonde hair is tied into the same pigtails Karen has. It wears a hot pink dress with a blue flower sown into the side and dark pink flats. I quickly snap a photo of the doll before handing the box back to Karen.

“Please be careful Guardian Angels,” Karen pleads, “The big kids who took my doll were really big and mean.” I pat Karen’s head and give her a reassuring smile. Mysterion gives her a quick hug before leading me back to the window.

“Don’t worry Karen,” Mysterion consoles, “We can handle this.” We pull ourselves onto the window pane and jump down onto the ground. We jog over to the rain gutter and climb up it to reach the roof. Once my feet are on the roof’s surface, Mysterion gently grabs my shoulders and pulls me to the side.

“Thanks for stepping in back there,” Mysterion thanks, “You really gave Karen a hope boost.”

{How could I say no that face?}

“Heh, yeah. One look from Karen and I’m putty in her hands too. If my kryptonite wasn’t poverty, it would be her.” He leaps over to the roof of his garage and trudges up the curved roof of Bi the garage. As I catch up to him, we notice Mrs. Broflovski pulling Gerald away by his ear across the front yard.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS,” Shelia rants, “YOU’RE LUCKY THAT KENNY CALLED ME BEFORE YOU COULD DO ANYTHING STUPID!”

“UNHAND ME YOU VILE MAMMARY GOBLIN,” Gerald screeches. I stifle a snicker at the scene. Mysterion smirks in amusement before leading us over to the back of the roof and climbing down onto the glass railing. I follow right behind as we descend down the stairs and out of the abandoned shop.

“Alright Douchebag,” Mysterion instructs, “all investigations should start at the scene of the crime. We’d better head over to the playground. The kids there may have seen what happened to Karen’s doll.” I quickly nod my head and jog behind Mysterion across his yard. We pass over the train tracks and head over to where Kyle’s house is. We turn just a few meters from Kyle’s front lawn and approach the open gate of the playground. I am met the playful cheers of kindergarteners, 1st graders, and a few 2nd graders playing on the pirate themed fort, slide, and swings. I’d have to say that there are about 12 kids in total. I notice Mysterion’s overall demeanor begin to soften as he approaches the sand lot. A little boy with spiky black hair, black sneakers, blue jeans, and a red t-shirt with a monster truck on it notices us and jumps up in excitement.

“It’s Mysterion,” he chants. He rushes over to Mysterion and jumps into his arms just as the other kids begin to stop what they’re doing and rush over themselves. I watch as a wall of bubbly children circle around Mysterion, trying to get his attention by showing him toys or pictures on their phones, tugging on his cloak, or by hugging his legs. Mysterion chuckles in amusement and adoration as he places the black-haired kid down on the asphalt.

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7 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

#2

Bob Belcher is a badass!

Loud warning

19 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Some Randy Cunningham practice.

(I just drew a screenshot from the season 1 finale because I can’t draw this on my own yet 😅)

30 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 13 (Final Chapter)

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - ... Art - Art - Art

To those of you who have made it this far through this story; congratulations. You literally just read a novel length romance about a Goblin King and a Human Prince. The final tally for this story? 149,053 Words. In my doc file, this totals to 239 pages (size 11/arial font) . I made a final art piece to commemorate this chapter, HERE.

This has been... Such a journey. Such an adventure. I have loved every last second of this and I hope you all did too. I don’t know how this chapter will be received, but for now, this will be the end for Nikostratus and Grier...

Thank you all so very much for your support, and please please PLEASE reblog/comment/ask/DM me with your thoughts or prompts or ideas or headcannons. I love these two and I can’t talk about them enough...

If you love this story, please also consider supporting me on BuyMeACoffee which you can access through my MasterList above. Want more of the boys? I’d willingly take commissions on them, or any of my other characters (or a new one, just for you!). Times are tough for everyone, and I hope I was able to bring a little light for a time with this story...

Much love, and thank you.

I skimmed the last line once more, then glanced over the entire document to be sure that everything else was properly in order before signing my name neatly at the bottom. I passed the page to Hibik and turned to the next. I felt the very tip of my eyebrow twitch as my eyes settled on it and I looked up at the goblin.

“Lord Hibik-”

“Apologies, My Prince,” He rushed to explain, “I know you do not usually sign anything that is in goblinese. However, this is simply a trade manifesto from one of the outlying cities. If you so wish, I can translate every word for you before you sign.”

I waited patiently for him to finish, but plucked up the parchment and held it out to him none-the-less. “While I appreciate your diligence, and certainly trust you in all manners of state, I simply cannot sign anything I cannot read for myself.” I told him, my voice formal and flat, but still with the lingering edges of my exhaustion in it. “I have no doubt it is exactly what you say it is, however should I choose to sign it and it is brought before me at some other time, I would be unable to distinguish it from anything else in goblinese.” I shook my head. “If I cannot understand something without a mediary, then I should not be trying to pass authority on it.”

Hibik nodded, dropping his gaze lightly. Seeming humbled. “Of course, My Prince. You have proven once more your unerring logic in such matters of state... My apologies to have questioned your wisdom at all.”

“Have it translated if it is urgent. Otherwise, it shall just have to wait until my goblinese has advanced or…” I dropped off, and felt my throat get tight.

The King’s secretary nodded again, and I could see the sad tinge around his eyes at my words. I started to search for some formal platitude. Some simple comfort to reassure him that everything would be fine… But I found the lie stuck to the roof of my mouth uncomfortably and I could not force it free. I looked down at the last document on the desk before me instead, pretending to read through it. My eyes ran over the first paragraph about four times before I was finally able to begin actually comprehending it. I tried not to think about the fact that the Master Healer was still visiting with the only other person with authority to sign such documents. And the painful knowledge that the individual was still in no state to do so. I tried to resist the urge to look over at the door to his chambers every few seconds. As if I would be able to discern what was happening or what fresh prognosis the Healer would bring. And I worked very hard to deny that I already knew what his conclusions would be.

It took me a little longer than usual to read the final document that required my signature, but finally it was done. Just as I was finishing with the usual dab of my quill at the end of my full name, there was a light knock on the door. I glanced up as Seoc opened it, and was mildly surprised to see the General standing beyond, his hands neatly tucked behind his back.

Hibik took the final page to sand as Seoc and Damjan spoke together softly. When Seoc glanced over at me, I gave him a small nod of approval, which he quickly relayed to the General. Damjan strode over slowly, a few crumpled pages in his own hands. I resisted the urge to sigh, and the prickling of hairs at the back of my neck as I longed to be done with all this official tedium. Longed to be back in the quiet solitude of the King’s sick room. I swallowed the lump in my throat as subtly as I was able, and moved to stand in order to greet the General.

He raised one large hand. “Perhaps it is best if you remain seated, My Prince.” He informed me as his own greeting, which splashed a cold chill down my spine.

Hibik lingered, signed documents in hand, glancing between myself and Damjan. I saw the pair exchange a brief glance, one which communicated far more than most, and saw the edges of the secretary’s lips twitch. Perhaps debating if he should stay. But when he glanced over to me again, I waved him away with a reassuring nod.

“Thank you for your time, My Prince.” he told me hesitantly, bowing low. 

Damjan shifted as Hibik made his way out, and I turned my attention to him. “What brings you, General?”

The hesitation he presented me with had another icy breath running down my back. I watched the man shift again, clenching and unclenching his oversized hands around the papers within them. I glanced down at that, then back up to his face. I allowed one eyebrow to raise ever so slightly. Damjan cleared his throat.

“I have just received word from our… “contacts” in the Kingdom of Geriveria.” He told me, his voice thin with his persistent reluctance.

He dropped off, and I made a point not to let my eyes wander. Fixing him with a steadfast gaze. When he still had not spoken after a few moments, I tapped one finger lightly on the small table beside me where I had set my quill and inkwell.

“I assume you have some news which you deemed important enough to bring before me.” I concluded flatly, and was not reassured as the General winced. “Please, proceed.”

Damjan straightened, collecting himself. “... Our contacts have confirmed the information stating King Tibertius had fallen ill just after our visit to the castle…” He gritted his teeth, and dropped his eyes, “... And I have just received word… that last night he succumbed to his illness.”

The world around me seemed to shift at his words... I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Wasn’t sure what that news elicited in me. I froze for a moment, staring at him blankly. I felt my thumb roll thoughtlessly against the fabric of the armchair I was seated in.

“... The human King is dead?”

I watched his eyes flick up to me from the ground, equally uncertain what to make of my uncharacteristically callous and pointed remark. He nodded slowly. “Yes… It has not been formally announced yet, however I am confident in our sources who have reported it.”

I turned this over for a moment in the hollow echoing expanse of my mind. “Was it the Rotting Sickness?” My voice sounded distant, and I wasn’t entirely sure I had spoken at all.

“It is unclear at this time, though we do not believe it likely.” He responded softly. “Even given that he refused our protective Warding, there were other factors in place for his benefit.”

I nodded ever so slightly, running my whole hand slowly over the arm of my chair now. “Crown Prince Valerianus will send formal word to us soon.” I told him. “Be sure to have an appropriate response prepared. And tighten the patrols and guard at the border, in case there is any backlash from the announcement.”

I saw him hesitate again. “... My Prince-”

“Keep abreast of your ‘contacts’ as well.” I continued, pretending he hadn’t spoken. “I wish to know if Crown Prince Valerianus is officially coronated, or if he otherwise sets a date for it.” I glanced off to the side, hardly realizing I was no longer really seeing anything around myself anymore. “I will draft a letter for him, and a formal statement, in preparation for that news as well.”

Damjan nodded his affirmation. “As you wish, My Prince…” He chewed on his tongue only briefly before speaking again, “... And if you need someone to talk to… I wanted to let you know I am here for you. In whatever capacity you may have need of me.”

I stood, unhurried, and tugged my vest to straighten it as I did. “I do appreciate the offer, General, but there is no need.”

“Prince Nikostratus,” He followed quickly, before I could dismiss him, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, “Whatever else your relationship with that man was… he was still your father.” I stiffened slightly at the word. “This is not easy news to bear, in any situation.”

I returned my gaze to him, my expression still set in stone. “Thank you for your concern, General Damjan, however I can assure you, I am fine.” I paused briefly, glancing over towards the bedroom in a moment of weakness. “... I would request this information remains between us for now, though.” I almost winced, but squared my shoulders instead. Keeping my voice even, my features stony. “I believe it would be best for Princess Morgana to hear this news from me.”

He dipped his head respectfully. “Of course, My Prince.” I nearly jumped with surprise as his big hand fell on my shoulder. “Whatever you need. Do not hesitate to ask.”

I nodded to him curtly, and he withdrew his hand. Dropping into a polite bow before he took his leave. I turned my attention to the back room, making my way over with halting steps intermittently set amid my long stride. The Master Healer was just gathering up his things as I approached. He turned and bowed to me, his long beard brushing the floor.

“My Prince.” He intoned respectfully.

“How is the King?” I asked, my voice flat to withhold my impending dread of his answer.

The Master Healer flinched, unable to conceal his thoughts quite so easily. “He remains the same, My Prince.” He replied softly. “I have given him a tonic to ease his symptoms and perhaps allow for a more fitful rest… However there is not much more I can offer for him at this time.”

I nodded, burying the sorrow and disappointment at his words deep into my already hollowed out chest. “Thank you, Your Grace,” My eyes followed him as he slowly raised from his bow, “I appreciate your efforts greatly.”

“I only wish there was more I could do, My Prince.” He murmured.

Another curt nod. Which was the best I could manage. “Seoc will show you out.” I informed him numbly.

My attendant closed the bedroom door behind them, for which I was grateful. They had all stopped trying to convince me to retire to my own chambers a few days ago, as they had realized it would fall on ears both too stubborn and too deaf to their pleas. Even Morgana and ina Morag relented their persuasive efforts, instead focusing on bringing whatever they could to me here. I tried to pretend I stayed out of duty and responsibility. I tried to pass off my vigil as nothing more than what would be expected of any other individual so politically tied to the King as I was. It made it easier, in a way, than trying to accept my real reasons... It stung that I was apparently not hiding it well from the others; that they could see my vulnerability, and perhaps that they had some understanding of my decision that I could not grasp myself.

Slowly, I lowered myself into the armchair beside the bed, finally building the courage to look upon the King once more. I watched his labored breathing for a few long minutes, listening to the raspy rush of air in and out of his lungs. My palms came to my lap, and I thumbed at them absentmindedly as I felt the stone I had sheltered behind for the formal proceedings slowly cracking and crumbling away.

I glanced down at my hands, and found they were shaking. “.... King Tibertius is dead.” I informed him, my voice soft to preserve the hushed silence of the chamber. I hesitated, squeezing my thumb into my palm until it hurt. “... my… my father... is dead…” I finally released a heavy sigh, and felt my shoulders slump. “... I honestly don’t… I don’t know how to feel about it…”

My gaze lifted back to look over at him, and I shuddered at the sight. I didn’t like seeing him lay so still. I had spent days watching him, a statue on guard at his side. Silent and unmoving. I wasn’t sure I could do it for even a moment longer. I shifted, then stood again, reaching over to take up the cooling cloth from the water basin beside the bed. I settled on the edge of the mattress beside him. So that I could reach him better, I told myself. I brushed the wild bangs out of his face, then smoothed the damp cloth across his brow. 

He seemed to sigh beneath my touch, and I bent over him to study his face. His skin was more grey than green now, and I could feel the heat rising off his body. I traced my eyes over the edge of his jaw, down to the point of his chin. I committed the shape of his nose to memory, and lingered on the curve of his lashes against his cheek. Before I had even realized I was doing it, I found my fingers skimming along the prominent ridge of his brow, and my thumbs smoothing down his slender eyebrows. He shifted beneath my touch, so slightly I thought perhaps I might have imagined it. I withdrew my hand, hesitating. Placing the cloth back in the basin on the bedside table. But I couldn’t help returning to cup his face, and run my thumb along the crest of his cheek. I felt the tiny beveling of his grey-green skin, taking a moment for it. I had never so carefully studied the quality of his flesh without some other thought or pressure weighing on me. I chose to do so now. To memorize everything I possibly could... His fever burned at the pads of my hand, but I ignored it.

The now familiar ache settled in my chest, throbbing with each pulse of my heart. I ran my hand down the side of his face, along the curve of his throat. My fingers cupped around the back of his neck, and I gave a gentle squeeze. I stared at his eyes, longing for them to open again. Longing to see those mischievous, sparkling red irises. It had been days since he had last opened his eyes… Not since he had begged me to lay alongside him…

With his last request heavy on my mind, I looked over my shoulder at the door, then back down at him. My numb fingers rose of their own accord, and fumbled with the buttons on my vest. Then tugged my tunic haphazardly from its tuck as I folded the vest to set on the cushion of the armchair beside us. Once my boots joined it, I took a steadying breath then carefully climbed into the bed next to him. Now I knew I wasn’t imagining it when his head turned weakly. As if he could sense me there… I knew I was fooling myself. I gently collected him into my arms, and nearly faltered for the limpness of his body. But there was a strange reassurance of feeling his raspy breath against my collarbone. I rested my chin on the top of his head, shivering slightly despite the hot body I had tucked against me.

“... I don’t know how to tell Morgana…” I breathed quietly, uncertain what else to do. My eyes squeezed shut. “Gods… I just… I-I can’t… With everything else…” I wrapped my arms a little further around him. “... Please... Grier…” The taste of his name stung my mouth. “I can’t do this by myself…” I swallowed hard. “Y-you always asked me what I wanted… a-and I never had an answer for you… Usually because I just.. I didn’t know… but…” I buried my face in his damp hair. “But I know I don’t want this… and I know I was… hesitant… A-and… maybe reluctant to… to let this relationship be anything more than political...” The words felt heavy and foreign in my mouth, yet as I spoke them, it seemed easier to voice the rest. I shook my head, still working to dam the pain starting to build in my throat and eyes. “But that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean that I…” I stopped again, swallowing hard and taking a deep steadying breath. “Please… I need… I n-need you to get better… I need you to come back… I-I don’t know what I’m doing anymore… I need you to tell me…” I closed my eyes, knowing I was gushing uselessly, but unable to help myself. “Y-you asked me… you asked me to be strong… to do the best for…” I hesitated. “For our people… I’m… I’m trying… but I-I’m… I’m not the best for them… You are… and I-I… I can’t… It’s… I-it sounds stupid but…” Again I stopped, and laid quietly beside him. Hearing his steady if ragged breathing against me. Feelin the heat of him burn through the fabric of my tunic. Trying to sort through the jumble of thoughts and emotions rallying to burst from me.  “... I never used to think of my future… I-I didn’t think I had much of one… but… b-but now I can’t think of a future for me… of a future without you in it…”

I held my breath for a long moment. As if waiting for him to answer. Waiting for him to fill the long silence as he always had before… Instead, I felt myself being blanketed by it. Felt it wriggle and stuff its way down my throat, until it threatened to choke the very air out of my lungs. I hated the silence, as I never had before. It burned and rang in my ears. It smothered me.

“W-what am I doing?” I mumbled to myself, trying to rid myself of the stillness and slowly starting to untangle my body from the goblin’s. “I’m losing my mind-”

I froze suddenly. Not daring to move. Not even daring to draw a breath. After a few shuttering beats of my heart, I slowly looked down to confirm what I thought I had felt… And found Grier’s hand latched weakly on my arm. As if he had heard me. As if he had felt me start to pull away from him.

I knew it was stupid. I was certain it was just some sort of… reflexive reaction. But then he shifted, burying his nose back against my shirt. And I decided I didn’t care. I latched onto the hope that maybe… just maybe… he had somehow heard me. He had sensed my body beside his. 

I suddenly remembered the Dowager Queen Morag’s words again as clearly in my mind as if she had been standing over us at that moment. He has good reason to. Is this what she had meant? If Grier needed a reason to come back, to fight this… then perhaps I could remind him he had one… Hadn’t he once said he could listen to the sound of my voice all night? I wondered if he could hear it from wherever he was. If it could bring him back...

“... Hibik has been bringing me any matters of state that need approval.” I told him softly, hesitantly. “I swear… it seems endless… there’s always something else to sign, something else to review…” I sighed, shifting slightly, biting at my tongue for a long moment. “... At least right now, I can use the excuse of not knowing goblinese… that cuts the paperwork down some…” I swallowed, trying to think what else to say. Already feeling anxious that the silence was building too long. “A-all I know is the alphabet… and Korol… Ussta bez, eto chen… umm… Nazia which means ‘name’... a-ah, but you know that…” I flushed slightly. Then I felt him shift against me, felt his breath on my neck, and almost shivered. I hesitated, then ran my hand over the back of his head. “Wh-what else… umm.. Cara, and ina… shiba, onsa… your mother calls Morgana onsakin… th-they get along a little too well, I think…”

I struggled for a while, feeling foolish. But the softness of his breath against my skin, and his hand on my arm, gave me the confidence to continue. For whatever it was worth...

….

“When I was five or so, I got sick like this,” I told him, brushing my fingers through his hair, “High fever, raspy lungs. I remember my mother sat with me all night. Read me stories, and stroked my head until I fell asleep.” I paused, twirling one strand of his hair around my finger. “... We have portraits of her in the halls. Not many, but a few. So I’ll never forget her face… I’d like to send for one, I think… If that would be alright with you.” I put the strand back and delicately picked up another. “But I also remember how she smelled… strange isn’t it? That’s what I remember best about her. She smelled like lilies. I don’t know how, but she always smelled like fresh picked lilies… It hurts a little to think that Morgana smells a lily and doesn’t think of our mother like I do.” My lips twitched distractedly. “Now she thinks of me, because she knows how much I like them… She doesn’t understand quite why… I-I don’t know if I ever told her.”

Grier shifted, nuzzling himself against me and letting out a soft sigh. I released his hair to reach carefully across the bed. Plucking the cloth from the basin. I would need to get more soon; all the water was almost gone. I wrung out the excess, then gently smoothed it across his forehead. Then over his temples. I turned his head and traced it across his lips. His long tongue came out briefly to swipe the moisture that lingered there.

“I remember her voice, too… She had a delicate voice. I don’t think she ever raised it much above a whisper.” I shook my head. “She never yelled… Whenever I did something that perhaps I shouldn’t have, she never yelled at me… She would just get this look… like she was disappointed I hadn’t made a better choice…” I snorted. “I think that was worse somehow… Morgana looks a lot like her, I think. Though my mother had this beautifully rich dark skin… I was very jealous of it. I wanted to have the color of her skin for my own. And it was always very soft.”

I ran the cloth back and forth over his neck. Around the edge of his shoulder blades. Down his spine. Smoothing it across his muscles and grey-green skin.

“I think she would have liked you… I hope she would have… I-I’m not sure how she would have felt about… all this.” I glanced around the chambers, delicately lit by a few sparkling candelabras, strategically placed. I had tucked the rest into neat rows along the tops of the bookshelves. Looking less cluttered and more displayed. “Not the goblin part… I think she would’ve been ah… mostly ok with that…” I chuckled, returning the cloth to the basin and brushing my hand through his soft hair again. “... I don’t think I had really thought about it much back then… girls, I mean…” I swallowed hard, staring down at the foot of the bed while I stroked his hair. “O-or boys for that matter… I wonder if she would’ve been... s-surprised… Though she always seemed to know me better than I knew myself… Valerianus was very, ah... ‘serious’, so the court girls didn’t care for him much, save for the ambitious ones. But they were always fawning over me…” I frowned. “I-I didn’t like it. I hated going to balls and galas or formal dinners. My mother would just laugh and say that I would figure it out when I was a little older…” I sighed. “It sounds silly now, I’m sure… Then she….” I dropped off, taking a steadying breath. “A-and Morgana was the center of my world after that, so I never... I never really questioned it again… I was very good at being polite, at being gracious. But I never returned any… ah…” I shook my head again. “I think… I think I was a year or two shy of twenty when I saw… this man… he was… ah…” I cleared my throat lightly, “He was from another Kingdom… older, but only barely in his thirties if even that… I just remember being struck absolutely dumb by him… I could hardly breathe when I realized he was in the same room as me, and I kept staring… by the Gods it was so embarrassing… I didn’t know what to do with myself around him…” 

I jumped at the light knock coming from beyond the bedchambers. Quickly, I looked down at Grier, but he was still in a deep sleep. He was tucked quite neatly against me, his arms wrapped around my middle, his ear against my sternum. He looked rather like he was smiling, I thought. It had been only a day or two since I had given up my post in the armchair beside the bed in favor of lying alongside him. And I hadn’t left since. We are married now after all, I reasoned with my guilt and self-consciousness. I should be allowed... I ran through all the different things I had started telling him since then. Arbitrary things at first. The way the mountains looked out my window. The odd items he had left about the room and where I had put them. Then I started opening up a little more. Telling him little snips of my memories. About the first horse I had ever ridden, and the first time I had held a sword. About Morgana’s first steps, and her first words. 

Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed like his sleep was less listless when I was speaking. And I found I felt a little better talking to him, rather than lying quietly and simply worrying over the state of him. I constantly feared leaving the silence for too long, as if it were the only tether he had. Barely daring to sleep for fear of it… I wasn’t sure I had ever spoken as much as I had in the past two days.

I stroked his hair back a final time, then carefully untangled myself from his embrace. A soft groan petered from him, and his lips twitched. But I was able to free myself and lay him gently back into the bed.

By the second quiet knock, I was at the door in the foyer and tugging it open. Hibik and the Master Healer stood there, both looking appropriately serious. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t make an attempt to hide my bare torso or feet. Simply pulled the door open the rest of the way and let them in. Nodding to their gracious greetings and formal bows. I was far too exhausted to care about any of that, though I felt a familiar numbness falling about my shoulders like an old coat as I followed them into the bedroom. The Healer went straight to the King’s side, while Hibik moved to take the basin from the table and brought it off to the other room to fill. I saw the Healer’s hands glow, watched him shift them back and forth over Grier’s body, as he had many times before. For his part, the King rolled slightly, grumbling something softly. It made my heart leap lightly in denial of the numbness that had taken up residence in my chest. But I watched the Healer anxiously.

He lowered his hands as Hibik returned, and glanced over at the secretary. Then he shook his head and put his hands on his hips. My heart plummeted back down.

“Well, My Prince,” breathed the Healer, and I stiffened as he turned to me, “I am not sure what you have been doing… but I urge you to keep it up.”

I blinked at him slowly. “What?”

A wide smile suddenly split his lips, and his hands tapped eagerly on his hips. “He’s doing better… Much better really…” I nearly swooned at his words, and reached out to steady myself on the bedpost. “His fever is all but gone. His lungs are clearing… I might be able to do more for him now. A potion perhaps. To revive him more.”

Hibik could barely contain a gasp, and clapped his hands together, relief filling his face. “You mean, he’s going to be alright? He’ll pull through?”

The Healer scoffed. “It’s miraculous! Really it is!” He shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder. “Almost overnight, the King’s condition has improved drastically. I’ve never quite seen anything like it.” He nodded, smiling again. “... I do think the worst is now behind us.”

My head felt completely detached from my body, and I thought if I hadn’t been holding the bedpost I might have floated away. Hibik was dancing from foot to foot, making lengthy exclamations in goblinese. I didn’t need to know all the words to understand his excitement. To feel it palpably around us, though I dared not embrace it myself. The doctor patted the air.

“We still have some ways to go yet, My Prince, Lord Hibik.” He reminded us. “It’ll take time for the King to regain his strength. It may be a month or more before he fully returns to his old vigor.”

“But he will?” I asked, and was surprised at the softness of my voice.

The Healer gave a final nod. “I have little doubt anymore, My Prince. I shall prepare a draught for him. However, given his state... I would expect him to wake anytime now.”

Hibik squealed with delight, and I raised my hand to calm him. The goblin quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, and the Healer tutted him. I glanced at Grier, then back at the pair of goblins.

“Lord Hibik, would you let my sister know the good news, please?” I instructed, then nodded to the vase of wilting flowers on the small round table at the back of the couch. “Perhaps she would like to get a fresh bouquet for him. She can come visit when she’s able.”

“I am not certain our gardens can survive another visit from the Princess,” He mused with a chuckle, still shifting from foot to foot, “However, I am more than pleased to let her decimate the remaining for the sake of our King.”

“Have some hot broth ready for him, the kitchens can send it straight up,” I added, glancing at the Healer for confirmation of this choice, “And let the Dowager Queen know as well. Morgana may want to tell her herself however, so I would suggest she be the first you inform.”

“Excellent, My Prince,” Hibik bowed, “I am most eager to spread this joyous news.”

The Healer bowed deeply as well, then they both made their way out. I closed the door behind them, my entire body tingling. Now that they were gone, I pinched myself hard to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My feet carried me back to the bedroom of their own accord. And I climbed into the bed and slipped up alongside him. Almost as soon as I settled, Grier rolled into me, tucking himself into my chest once more. I felt his contented sigh against my breastbone, and nearly shivered from the sensation. I wrapped my arms gently around him, resting my chin on the top of his head once more.

“... I think Josep knew before I did.” I told him softly, running my hands up and down his back. “He was always lingering late into the night. Always refilling my wine as soon as it emptied… I’m not sure h-how he knew… I noticed the long glances, and couldn’t help a few of my own…” I sighed, burying my nose in his hair for a moment. “He was… cute… Just a little shorter than me, but thin as a bean pole… his hair was raven black, and his eyes were a soft stormy grey… But bright as the moon at midnight...”

….

A few hours later, I adjusted the flowers, plucking a few errant leaves and placing them in the waste bin. Morgana was an... ambitious picker. Sometimes the roots and half the rest of the plant came along with the bloom. But she always picked the best and most colorful flowers, and the bouquet she had brought was perhaps her largest and loveliest yet. Not for the least because of her enthusiasm presenting them. The room felt anxiously still in her absence and I brushed my fingers over the petals, drawing in a deep breath of their soft scent. Trying unsuccessfully to calm my racing heart now that I was alone again... Nearly alone.

“... Been making yourself at home, have you?”

I jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of the thin voice from over my shoulder. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun on my heel, and my eyes shot wide. A wry, tired smile greeted me, set below glittering scarlet eyes that shifted around the room only briefly before settling on me. I tried to remember the last time I had seen them... I didn’t realize how much I had missed them until that moment.

Grier. 

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I stared at him, my eyes, frozen in place. Not entirely convinced I wasn’t dreaming. Hardly able to believe what I was seeing as the goblin slowly eased himself up to sit with his back against the headboard. He cocked his head to the side, raising one slender brow at me.

“I come back from the dead, and this is the greeting I receive?” He pouted. “Honestly, I think I was hoping for a bit more-”

I was at the bed before he had even finished forming the words. I caught the back of his head in my hand, nearly falling over him as I kneeled on the side of the mattress in my desperation to reach him. Crashing our mouths together so suddenly it was almost painful. His words sputtered against my lips, but then I could taste his smile again and my heart ached. Gods, I had missed that too. The warmth of his kiss, the shape of his mouth. I didn’t want to leave it again. His own hand came up, cupping my jaw, returning my kiss with such enthusiasm I thought my lungs might just collapse. Which only served to remind me that I had forgotten how to breathe.

I pulled back, gasping for air for half a second. Then dove back in to kiss him again. Now I could feel his weak laughter bubbling against my lips. Gently he pulled himself away, stroking his hand along my cheek to still my pursuit, running his thumb under my eye.

“Now that’s more like it.” He murmured dreamily, his eyes looking carefully back and forth between mine.

I flushed deeply, feeling the heat sweep across my face with a fury to match how his own feverish skin had once been. I started to pull away bashfully. “I-I’m sorry-”

He pushed the words back into my mouth with another kiss, forcing them deep into my throat in denial of them. My heart thrummed with delight. I lost myself for a moment more, and our kiss deepened. But he felt weaker than I remembered, his press intense but not as strong. I reminded myself of the state of him, and did not fight to keep our mouths locked when he finally pulled back again. Even though I longed to do so...

“H-how are you feeling?” I asked breathlessly instead, lingering with the tips of our noses brushing together. I gripped the back of his neck firmly, as if afraid letting go would allow him to float off again, slowly easing to sit on the mattress beside him.

“Tired.” He admitted. “And by the Gods I can’t remember ever having been this hungry before in my life…” His smile returned, pointy teeth and all. “But better… much better.” His thumb traced the edge of my lashes. “... Now that I’ve seen you again.”

I couldn’t help laughing in relief, but it broke as it fell away from my lips, and I saw his brow furrow with concern. I shook my head and his hand at my cheek weakly moved to still me. He reached out with his free one, and I didn’t hesitate to meet it with mine between us. Intertwining our fingers together.

“I-I… I thought that… I thought…” I choked on the words, my lips trembling.

Grier kissed them gently. Stilling them with his own. He peeled back slowly, only to lean back in half a breath later to lightly kiss them again. I spun like a top, my heart racing so fast in my breast I wasn’t entirely sure it was beating at all.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, my young Prince” He assured me sweetly, and I stumbled over another laugh.

“I… I-I… I’ve been thinking… I’ve been thinking a lot…” I breathed, my voice still shaky.

“Uh-oh,” He mused, “That sounds ominous. Should I prepare myself?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Would you sh-shut up for half a second?” I belittled the words with a light hearted tone, and punctuated it with a kiss of my own. 

In truth, I was so happy to hear his voice again, I could have collapsed from relief. I wanted to hear it more. I wanted to listen to his voice for days, and to stare into those scarlet eyes, and feel the shape of his mouth against mine. But… He smiled against me, and tried to kiss me again as I pulled away. I shook my head. I had something to say, and I needed to say it, before I lost my nerve.

 “I-I’ve been thinking… a-and... I’ve decided… I d-decided that… I-I…”

“I hope this isn’t a farewell speech.” He teased as I fumbled for the words again. I shot him a look, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut. But damn that his smirk wasn’t still there on those blasted lips of his.

I took a deep, steadying breath. Staring down at our laps to avoid the temptation of his mouth. The silence rang heavy for a second, and I felt him squeeze my hand encouragingly. I could’ve collapsed with the emotion that sent spinning through me. He had barely been up for five minutes and already he was seeking to give me whatever support he could... Reminding me exactly why I had so much to say… So I sucked in a full lungful of as much air as I could possibly manage.

“... I don’t want to move into your rooms. And I don’t want you to move into mine. I want to have new rooms. To be our rooms. Up in the tower, with a balcony. But the bedroom doesn’t need a window, that way it stays dark. So you can still sleep in. And I want a bed that’s so big I might sometimes lose you in it. A-and I want a room off to one side that we can use as a nursery… Painted yellow… and I want to adopt… but I also want a few kids of yours… I-I don’t think I could do mine, because I really don’t want to sleep with anyone else and if there’s a way that maybe you didn’t have to lay with anyone either I-I think that would be better. But there is absolutely NO way I’m doing th-the ‘magical route’ and… and I’m still not even sure you weren’t just messing with me. I want to bring one of the portraits of my mother, and put her in the sitting room. Over the fireplace. B-but that means no kissing there, because I don’t want her staring at us. Then I want thrones, for the throne room. Proper thrones, not just poofy chairs. Because I’m not sitting on the floor, and if we have audiences with anyone (which we should), we’ll need a proper throne room. And I want to go to the ocean, every few years at least. I want to sit on the beach with you and watch the sunset, preferably on our anniversary. And I want a dog. Not a small dog, a big dog. Like a hunting dog. I-I don’t know if you like dogs, but I’d like one. And if I get a dog, Morgana is going to want a dog too, so we’ll just have to have two big dogs and… and…”

I glanced up at this point amid my rush of words that spilled out unchecked. And dropped off at the sight of Grier’s face. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen his eyes so wide. I thought they might fall out of his head. I shifted nervously, glancing down at our hands then back up at him. Not sure what it was I saw on his features and suddenly feeling shy.

“O-or… or you know… we could talk about it more… i-if you wanted-”

Once again he cut off my words with a kiss. I started at first, then instantly melted against him. He weakly pulled me closer, and I obliged his whim, until he could wrap his arm around my neck. He fell sideways to the mattress and onto his back, pulling me with him, releasing my hand to grope up my side. Slipping beneath my loose tunic to skim over my bare skin. My heart leaped and thudded and I fed him a tiny gasp.

“W-wait, you’re still-” I tried to pull away, but the goblin stubbornly kept himself latched around me. I dared not pull too hard, as I didn’t want to hurt him. “Y-you’re still healing.” I managed to mumble out against his lips.

“I don’t care.” He growled, but dropped back, peering up at me draped over him. “I just… I don’t care… I’m so… I’m just so…” He pulled me down, kissing me again. It was softer this time, as tender as any first kiss. But so full to bursting of emotion that I felt like I could taste it in my heart. After a few hot breaths, he finally pulled back again. “... Exactly how long have I been out??” He teased.

A pained look swept across my face, and his hand quickly came around to cup my jaw again soothingly. “I-I thought… I thought you were going to die…” I whispered, my voice as weak as his touch, “I thought I was going to lose you… a-and then I realized… I realized I had been so s-scared of having something to lose… that I didn’t even realize I was already losing it… I didn’t…” I took a deep steadying breath. “I-I told myself that if you woke up… if you got better… I wouldn’t... I-I … I don’t want to spend the rest of my life w-wondering… wondering what I could have had… but was too afraid to want…”

“... And what do you want?” He asked quietly as my voice petered out, his scarlet eyes growing warm.

“... I want you, Grier…” I breathed, the air fluttering in my chest, and his grip tightened at the sound of his name falling from my lips, “I want you. I want all of you…”

When our mouths met again, it was not with heat. It was… soft… Like petals brushing together. As delicate as a champagne flute, and filled with that same bubbly sweetness… I sunk into his mouth, as deep as I could go. I never wanted to come up for air. I fell beneath the waves of his emotion and I was content to let myself drown that I could fill my lungs with it. The warmth I had been missing filled my chest; that warmth that only he could bring to me. And it spread out to the very tips of my fingers and toes.

I’m not sure how long we remained interlaced together, our mouths moving in unison. But finally, we pulled apart. Neither one initiating our separation, both simply feeling it was the right moment to. I felt his breath on my face and realized I had closed my eyes. I let them slowly flutter open, and when I looked down at those dazzlingly scarlet eyes… I smiled.

His hand came up, his thumb tracing across my lips. Marveling at the shape of them. Which only made my smile grow, though I flushed shyly at his attention and darted my eyes to the side. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled… A soft wonder filled those ruby reds of his, and I suddenly and desperately longed to kiss him again. To taste every inch of him that my mouth could reach. Instead I slowly started to sit up. Gently pulling him with me.

“Y-you need to eat.” I told him softly. “To build up your strength…” I caught his hand as he slowly let it slide down my cheek, and I pressed it against my chest above my heart. “You need to get better. All the way better.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” I said in a warning tone. “B-because I swear to the Gods and all that is holy, if you ever put me through that again, I will kill you.”

His boisterous laughter was drowned out by an eager knock at the door, quickly followed by said door opening. Hibik bustled in, near vibrating with delight. Tears in his eyes. I quickly adjusted myself to put a little space between us, my blush darkening.

“My King!” He cried, coming over, then bowing repeatedly. “Oh! Blesha’la ontow’a, you are awake!

“Ah, Hibik!” He grinned, reaching out to clasp the smaller goblin’s extended hand. “Am I glad to see you.”

“Likewise, my King.” He bowed repeatedly, shaking Grier’s hand vigorously. “Please, please tell me if I can be of any assistance! I have missed serving you with all my heart.”

“Well, my old friend,” He mused, “It seems I need to get back to full strength.” He brought his now freed hand up to stroke my cheek again, and I felt a fresh flush rising to my face at his touch. “After all, I have a Prince to marry!”

My eyes widened slightly at that. “... A-ah… O-oh…. Ummm…”

Hibik also fell silent, suddenly looking down at his feet and shuffling them. Grier looked back and forth between the two of us. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

“... Am I missing something here?”

“Well, my King, the thing… Per your wishes… ah.. The thing... the thing is… ah…” Hibik stammered, then glanced at me desperately.

I cleared my throat, hiding the twitching smile at the corners of my lips. “The thing is…technically…. technically… we’re already married.”

Grier stared at me for a long, long moment.

“... I beg your pardon?”

….

It took three days and many loud arguments to convince the goblin that he could not, in fact, nullify the marriage license just to ‘do it the right way’. And no, it didn’t matter that he was the King. It would in turn put our Treaty at risk, and would cause far too many ramifications, many that were possibly not even conceivable at that moment. It took a week for him to stop grumbling about it at every opportunity.

I stayed with him throughout that time. Making sure he ate. Watching him sleep. The first night I woke him up twice, just to be certain he could be roused. He was not a fan of that, but as I seemed insistent, he would merely blink at me a few times, give an exasperated sigh, then snuggle deeper into my arms. It delighted him endlessly that I had completely given up any semblance of pretending we should sleep separately. So he indulged my anxious checking and fussing to the best of his ability. As long as it meant I was never more than an arms length away.

Now I tried not to stare too much, tried to limit it to the occasional glance over at him. My nerves were shot, but despite the anxiousness swelling around me… Every time our eyes met, he smiled. And I felt my heart skip. 

Morgana bounced eagerly, alternating between walking at our side and darting ahead. She circled around us, as we were moving far too slowly for her liking, checking and assessing each bobble and bit in the hall on the way to the gardens.

Grier stumbled weakly, and I jerked forward to catch him. He looked up at me, flashing his pearly whites. “I’m alright.” He assured me.

“Perhaps we should wait until you are a little stronger-”

He waved his free hand, using my offered arm to carefully straighten himself. “As you refuse to leave my side for more than a minute, and Morgana informed me you haven’t been outside since I fell ill,” he began, his voice breathy, “You leave me no choice but to forcibly escort you to the gardens, my young Prince.”

“I-I think you are… exaggerating a little to say that I r-refuse-” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand.

The King chuckled. “Mmm. Alright then, have it your way.” He interrupted, casting me a sidelong glance. “As your proper etiquette and honor will not allow you to leave your King’s side when he is under duress, it is my responsibility to be certain that you see some sunlight now and again.” His smile grew as Morgana darted back over to us. “Besides, I am bored of my rooms. The fresh air will do me some good, I am sure.”

Morgana returned his grin, bouncing in place. “Just wait until you see the surprise we have planned for you!” She told us. “It’ll make you both feel all better.”

I sighed, relenting and pushing her hair back out of her face for perhaps the hundredth time since we had started our trek. “Chickadee, where do you keep all your energy?” She giggled. “I’m tired just watching you.”

She pushed my hand away and started to dart back up the hallway. “Well, maybe if you ever slept anymore, you wouldn’t be so tired, Niko!” She exclaimed.

I cleared my throat and avoided Grier’s scolding eye. I also pretended not to notice he kept his arm wrapped around mine as we continued down the hall. It was better, I told myself. I could offer him more support that way. He still wasn’t back to his full strength yet, and this walk would likely push him to the extremes of what he had. But we were almost there.

Morgana’s head disappeared around the corner, and I felt my brow scrunch slightly as I watched her. The goblin’s fingers squeezed my arm gently, and I glanced down at him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, his voice tender.

I sighed quietly. “... I-I’m not sure she…” I swallowed, looking down at our feet. “M-maybe I didn’t explain King Tibertius’ passing to her as well as I should have…” My brow furrowed a little more. “Perhaps I was… too cold… I don’t think she understands-”

“You were very gentle.” He assured me, giving my arm another gentle squeeze and falling silent for a moment as we rounded the same corner we had seen Morgana disappear past. But when he spotted her further up the hall, dancing from foot to foot until she saw us again then darting off once more, he continued softly. “She’s young. And I don’t think she was very close to your father. She may not have fully processed it yet, being here.”

“How…” I stopped, but he gave me an encouraging nod. “H-how were you told? About your father, I mean?”

Grier thought about that for a moment, and we walked arm in arm quietly down the hall.

“It was… sudden.” He replied after a time. “He was badly injured in a skirmish…. I’m sure future historians will cite that as the instigating incidence of the hostility between our people…” I winced, but he patted my arm reassuringly. “That morning he was fine, and we… I am sure we broke fast together, because we usually did, but I don’t remember that day specifically… Then by that evening, he had passed.”

I winced. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, I apologize-”

“It’s ok.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember much at all from then. I don’t think I even knew he had been injured until both him and my mother missed dinner with me that evening. And I wasn’t brought to see him… not until after he had passed and they had… cleaned him up.” He tilted his head to the side, thinking for a long moment. “I remember being… sad, but more confused. I kept… forgetting, I guess. I would expect to see him places, and I think I asked about it once or twice before it really sank in that he was just… gone. And this is despite the fact that I saw his body.”

His steps had slowed, and I matched them carefully. After a moment, we had both come to a full stop, and he turned towards me, sliding his hands down to catch mine. I hesitated, trying to figure out what he needed in that moment. An apology? A story of my own? Perhaps he wanted space, or silence… or did he want some sort of embrace? I faltered, staring down at our hands and carefully running my thumbs over his. And feeling wholly inadequate not knowing how to comfort him. If that was even what he needed…

“... Morgana will be alright,” He told me after a few moments of silence, “She has you. And she is safe here.” Grier gave my hands a gentle squeeze, and I nodded timidly. The goblin shook himself, and I could hear his smile lacing his next words. “But come! Let’s not spoil our first outing in weeks.” I met his eyes, and felt a little more confident at the warmth in them. “We can talk more later, if you want to.”

I followed his lead as he turned to finish the last stretch before the main doors to the gardens. I didn’t even bother with an excuse, keeping his hand locked in my own and tucking it in my elbow. He moved a little closer, hooking his arm in mine until our thighs almost brushed as we walked.

Morgana had managed to push the massive door open on her own, and was waiting excitedly on the stairs before the gardens. She smiled at us as we approached then waved for us to follow her before taking off down the steps and onto the gravel. It crunched delightfully under her little feet, and I took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air as we made our way down the stairs as well, then out onto the path. The sun was bright and warm despite the chill, and I almost sighed as it splashed across my face. A few yards down, we rounded one of the hedges to find a thick blanket spread over the grass. There was a basket set there, and a few books, as well as some flowers tied in bundles that had Morgana’s signature roots and stems still attached. Safa and Seoc waited there, and they bowed to us as we approached. I felt a slight flush rise to my face, but tried not to let my step falter as I guided the King over.

My sister was already digging into the basket, pulling out dishes and bundles of food to pass to the other goblins, who helped her set the blanket. I couldn’t resist watching Safa with a rather critical eye, considering the way she interacted with my sister. I hadn’t had a chance to properly vet her before everything had happened, and found myself a little untrusting of her. After all, what did I know of this goblin? And she had been spending a lot of time with Morgana while I was tending the King. What if she was not the right influence for an impressionable young princess?

“Try not to scare the poor girl.” Came Grier’s quiet voice in my ear as I helped to carefully lower him to sit amid the pillows set on one side of the large blanket.

I looked at him in surprise, and his grin nearly split his face. I carefully fixed my expression, though I couldn’t completely hide the tightness in my voice as I replied. “I do not know what you mean, Your Majesty.”

Grier scoffed, tugging on my vest until I hesitantly settled onto the ground beside him. “Don’t start with that again.” He warned. Then he jerked his chin at the others a few feet away. “Your sister’s new Lady in Waiting. I saw that look.”

“What look?” I grumbled, my voice equally as soft as I watched Safa whisper something to Morgana. My sister laughed, glancing over at us. I felt my cheeks flush slightly.

The King’s chuckle answered me. “I had all of the ladies screened before I let them meet your sister.” He told me, shifting to sit a little closer to me. I stiffened at his proximity, feeling my face flush again. “Safa is from a good family, and she has a kind heart. Give her a chance, yes?”

I resisted the urge to scowl, considering the pair as they whispered and giggled to each other. Though I had to admit, Morgana did seem very pleased with her new Lady. Perhaps Safa felt my gaze on her, because her eyes darted up to me. I saw her shuffle nervously, offering me a slight bow. She glanced over at Morgana, then at Seoc, as if uncertain what to do with herself beneath my scrutiny.

Grier smacked my shoulder lightly. I started, turning my attention to him. “Leave the girl be.” He scolded good-naturedly. Then his smile tweaked at the corners. “Though I have to say, I like seeing this protectiveness of yours. Especially being on this side of it… Perhaps the father bear in you will be a boon to us in the near future.”

I didn’t get a chance to comment on that, as I had to suddenly struggle to keep myself upright as Morgana launched herself into me. My face instantly softened, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“This is lovely, Chickadee,” I told her, “Thank you for it.”

“It was Safa’s idea!” She replied, turning to settle properly on my lap and pulling a dish of finger foods over to us. “She said you and Grier deserved some quiet time together now that he was feeling better, and said since you have both been cooped up inside the fresh air would be good for you.”

I pretended not to notice Grier’s smug smirk, taking the offered nibble from her. “W-well… that was very thoughtful of her.”

“I did the flowers though!” She explained through a mouthful of food, sliding the tray over to Grier. “And I helped her cook!”

“Then we owe both of you our gratitude, little bird.” He mused, taking a piece of food and tossing it in the air to catch it in his mouth. She giggled, then promptly tried to do the same with far less success.

She babbled on about this and that for a while as we ate, then bounded out of my lap to sprint across the green. Safa turned from her conversation with Seoc a few yards away, and both beamed at the Princess who tugged lightly on the goblin’s colorful skirts. I watched quietly, taking a slow sip of the hot coffee my sister had sloppily poured us. I heard Grier’s relaxed sigh, turning my attention back to him.

“... How are you feeling?” I asked him nervously.

He groaned lightly, scooching a little closer and leaning his shoulder against my arm. “If one more person asks me that, I’m going to scream.”

I raised one brow, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t racing at his touch. “I suppose that would mean your lungs feel better then, yes?”

He laughed, settling himself somehow even closer to me. I swallowed nervously, glancing at him out the corner of my eye. ��I’m tired.” He admitted, sluggishly pulling a tray of sugar powdered pastries closer. “But it’s nice to get out of that bed.”

“Perhaps we should head back.” I fretted, moving as if to call my sister over.

The goblin shook his head, popping one of the pastries in his mouth and resting his head on my shoulder. “Not yet.” He breathed. “I’m enjoying myself.” 

I tried not to shift noticeably, but couldn’t help a tiny shuffle. I even cleared my throat, glancing back at my sister and the other goblins. But they were too far away to be properly bothersome to my discomfort.

“What about you?” I looked over at him at his voice, his scarlet eyes rolling up to meet mine. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not the one who was…” I stopped, dropping off. Feeling my throat close up at the reminder.

I jumped as his hand slid over my thigh, and my heart somehow raced even faster. I wasn’t sure what to do with my eyes. I was pretty sure I had stolen too many peeks at him for me to reasonably be allowed another. So I stared at the ground a few feet away, angled slightly so I could still see him out the corner of one.

“Nikostratus, you need to take care of yourself too.” He told me softly, and his hand ran soothingly back and forth on my leg. “... You can’t just… throw yourself aside for the sake of everyone else…”

I slowly put my cup down in its saucer, and dropping my gaze to stare at my palms. “... I’m fine.”

He gave a soft ‘hmmm’ at that, but didn’t push it further as Morgana darted back over and plopped back into my lap. I stiffened slightly, feeling my face burn hot realizing that Grier was still leaning heavily against my shoulder. But if she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind.

“Niko! Can you do my hair?” She asked. “I want to show Safa what it looks like when you braid it. I brought the oils and comb!”

I hesitated, glancing over at the young noble lady as she sheepishly shifted closer. She stood at the edge of the blanket, her head politely bowed. A few beads of nervous sweat burst out at the collar of my shirt. But… no one seemed to bat an eye at the King currently lazing on my arm. I supposed we were technically married now, after all. That must be why...

I tried to calm my nerves, nodding briskly. “A-alright… but why don’t you read to us while I do?”

Safa brought over a small basket and a book, offering both to me with a shy smile. I considered her for a moment before taking it with a polite thanks. Morgana snatched the book from my hands and flipped to what she described as her ‘favorite goblin story yet’. Seoc and Safa began cleaning up our meal as Morgana started, and I carefully kneaded the oils through her hair. Grier adjusted himself to free my arms, slowly laying down beside me with his head on my bent legs. I looked around nervously… but again, no one seemed to even notice his switch except for me. And I had to admit, having him so close let me relax a little. I didn’t have to check on him as much when I could feel his chest expand with each breath against the crook of my knees.

I forced myself to focus on my sister’s hair, and carefully outlined the tracks with the tip of the comb before I began to form the tight braids along her scalp. I had always loved how fluffy and soft my sister’s hair was; it reminded me of my mother’s. Though hers had been a deep raven black while Morgana’s was more like a dark auburn. It was just as thick, however, and I worked gently to loosen the individual curly strands from each other properly before I smoothed them into shape with the oil. The oil would also help to keep the moisture in the wiry strands, and would help protect her scalp as I tugged the braids firmly into place. I started from the center, working my way to nearly the back of her skull before smoothing out the natural poof at the end of the strands and moving back to her hairline to start again.

I was distinctly aware of Grier’s eyes watching my fingers nimbly braid her hair. Then Safa’s once she had finished clearing the picnic. She kneeled down a few feet away and watched with unconcealed curiosity. I felt a little stiff with the audience. But the King’s eyes drooped lazily as Morgana read on, and Safa proffered a tentative question here and there as I worked, spoken with such reverence I found myself slowly relaxing. I answered her as best I could, my voice low so as to not interrupt my sister’s avid reading. She still scolded us for interrupting, and I hid a smirk in the corners of my mouth. Seoc stood a few feet away, also listening quietly with his head cocked to the side but politely turned.

As the sunlight slowly drifted further away from our cozy little spot, I saw Morgana stifle her third yawn. A glance at Grier told me he was also drifting in and out of the waking world. I finished the last plait along the top of Morgana’s head and brushed the back out into a gentle cloud of natural curls. I worked some of the extra oil in with my palms and watched the curls tighten slightly with the added moisture.

“I believe the end times might be coming,” I mused, as she yawned again, and she and Grier both spun to look up at me, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you so tired. Especially both at once.”

“The Princess was up early with me this morning, My Prince,” Safa offered politely, her voice soft, “She was very eager to help prepare this meal for you and the King.”

“Perhaps then it’s an early night for us all.” I suggested, smoothing back her hair one last time. Grier stretched lightly and yawned, starting to ease himself up.

Morgana ran her own hands over the top of her head, feeling the braids and giving me a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Niko.”

I pinched her cheek. “Thank you, chickadee… And Lady Safa. For setting this up for us.”

“It was my pleasure, My Prince,” Safa bowed her head, then glanced at Morgana, “... Should I bring you back to your rooms Princess? Perhaps we can work on your goblinese for a while before bed.”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” Morgana nodded, turning and wrapping her arms around me. “Goodnight, Niko.” She peeked shyly at Grier from my neck as I returned her hug. “Goodnight, Grier.”

“Goodnight, little bird.” He replied with a smile. “And thank you, again. I look forward to returning the favor someday soon.”

We saw them off as I helped Grier to his feet. Seoc bowed deeply, offering his aid as well, but the King waved him away. Dismissing him for the rest of the evening for a deserved break. We walked with him to the entrance of the castle, then bid him a farewell as he scurried off with the blanket and baskets tucked under his arms.

We walked quietly down the hall, back towards Grier’s rooms. He managed on his own for a while, but by the time we had reached the bottom of the stairs, he started to lean against me heavily again.

“We shouldn’t have stayed out for so long.” I fussed as we rounded the final corner before his hallway. “You can barely stand.”

Grier scoffed away my concern. “It’s good for me. Besides, I enjoyed spending time with you and your sister.” His head cocked sluggishly to the side. “I think she’s a little jealous of me now.” A grin split his thin lips. “I seem to be hogging all your attention.”

I sputtered lightly, a flush coming to my cheeks as I tried unsuccessfully to provide a better conclusion for him. The goblin merely laughed at that, looping his arms around mine and resting his cheek against it. My heart skipped again, and I blinked a few times to try and clear the swirl in my head. I checked about, but we seemed to be alone in the last stretch to his rooms.

His chambers were blessedly dark and still, and I felt heavier as soon as the second door clunked closed behind us. Grier heaved a sigh, plopping down on the bed and kicking off his boots. I moved from where I had removed my vest as he pulled off his top too, going to pick his shoes to place with the rest. His hand caught the edge of my collar as I bent down, giving me a gentle yank.

“Leave them,” He silenced me as I began to protest, hooking his arm about my waist and persuading me over to him, “Your sister isn’t the only one who was working so selflessly all day.” A hot blush rushed my face as he tugged my tunic loose from my trousers and started undoing the ties. “You need to get some rest.”

“That’s my line.” I mumbled dryly, and he chuckled.

“I can’t even fathom the last time you got a good night’s sleep, Nikostratus,” He told me, slowly coming up to his knees, then his feet, standing on the mattress so he could roll my tunic up, “The day outside was a good start, but now we need to get you to bed.”

I nervously finished what he had started, pulling my shirt off. I started to fold it, but the King snatched it from my hands and tossed it to the side. I opened my mouth to stammer a protest again, and found his mouth there to silence it. He wrapped his arms slowly around my shoulders, his bare torso draped against mine. The goblin was taller than me, standing on the mattress as he was, and I had to drop my head back to comfortably return the kiss. I fed him a huffy breath as he coaxed my mouth open with his tongue, slipping past my defenses. Heat was already beginning to build in me at his touch, and I dared snake my own hands over his thighs. Then I hooked them up, catching his weight in my palms to pull his legs around me. I could taste his grin, and slid an arm under him as I carefully climbed onto the bed. Carrying him along with me.

We dropped together to the mattress, and I crouched over him timidly as our kiss broke momentarily. Grier brought his hand around, tracing the back of his knuckles along my jaw. My eyes darted back down to his lips, and before I could meet his gaze again he gently stretched up to sink into my own lips. I kissed him again, pressing his head down into the pillows, slowly lowering my body to be tucked alongside his. Dangling my torso over him with my weight on my elbows. He freed his other hand from around my neck to skim his fingers lightly up my side. I shivered at his touch, and he nipped my bottom lip lightly in response.

I drew back obediently, meeting his eyes shyly. His hand at my jaw turned, bringing his thumb to trace along my lips.

“... Have I mentioned how happy you make me?” He purred softly, a warm smile filling his face.

I blushed again, my eyes darting away. But he held me still with his hand, coming up to kiss me lightly once more. Just a quick peck before he dropped back into the pillows.

“How about how handsome you are?” He continued. “Or how lucky I am that I get to have you as my husband?” A small scowl came to his lips. “Are you certain we cannot simply null the license and do it properly this time?”

I stifled a laugh, my face blazing hot as I shyly rolled away. Dropping to the bed beside him. He quickly shifted and scuttled back into my arms, tucking his body against mine once more and bringing his hands to my face. His scarlet eyes bounced back and forth between mine.

“... You never told me how you feel about everything…”

I swallowed nervously. “E-everything?” I questioned in a soft stutter, timidly running my hand over the edge of his waist and letting my gaze fall to the side.

He nodded. “You’re my husband now…. And I’m yours…” His thumb skimmed along my cheek bone. “... Is that ok?”

I shivered again, then smoothed my hand into the small of his back. Nodding shyly. “Y-yeah. I’m… adjusting. B-but…” My tongue was a little too large for my mouth, and I tried to shift it uncomfortably. “I-I… I’m… I’m happy…” I felt my cheeks burn, and blinked fervently as if to fan them. “... I think…” I finished lamely.

Grier chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. “You seem… better. About talking,” He rubbed his thumb against my cheek again, “And touching.”

“I’m… I’m trying…” I swallowed again. “B-because… I… I m-missed this… I missed… you… ” I closed my eyes to hide from his. “I was… I was afraid I wouldn’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He assured me, leaning in until his breath splashed against my face. “Not without you.”

My lips twisted slightly at the corners. “So next time you’ll just be sure to take me with you when you visit death’s doorstep?” I asked dryly.

Another chuckle. “Mmm. No, not quite.” I felt him shift, then felt his lips against my cheek. “Not unless we are both very old and grey. And even then, I would rather not take you with me.”

“I would rather go first.” I mumbled, and felt his fingers tighten. I opened my eyes reflexively to see the worry in his. “... J-just one day… One hour maybe… So… So I don’t ever have to… t-to…” I blushed. “... to live without you.”

He brought our lips together for a feather light kiss, and I pressed my hand into the warm flesh of his lower back. Bringing my other hand up to bury in the wild hair at the base of his skull.

When he leaned back, we lay silently for a bit, staring at each other. Grier was the one to break the silence, a slight furrow forming between the ridges of his pronounced brow.

“Perhaps it was my imagination… But,” He tilted his head to the side, “I swear I… I was dreaming about you. But they felt real. Like memories?”

“I was… talking to you. While you slept…” I glanced away. “I thought maybe… maybe you would hear my voice and want to come back…”

“What did you tell me?” He asked curiously.

I blushed again. “A-ah… I… I told you about Morgana, when she was little…. A-and about Josep… and about my mother…” His hand gently guided me back to him, until I met his eyes once more.

“... Can you tell me again?” A small, sly smirk played across his lips. “I’ll be a better listener this time, I swear.”

I gave another timid nod. “O-ok…”

He smoothed his palm along my face. “But not tonight. You need to sleep.”

I frowned. “I’m fine-”

“You’re not fine.” He cut me off. “You spent the last two weeks watching me teeter on the edge of death. All the while ruling the Kingdom, and caring for Morgana, and anything else you could shoulder.” He ran his hand to the back of my head, gently squeezing my skull in his palm. “You married a dying man, your old guard tried to kill you, your father died... And those are just the things I know about...” I winced, and he brought his forehead back to mine. ���Now it’s time to relax. Let someone else take the burden for a time while you rest.”

I started to shake my head. “Y-you’re still healing-”

“So are you.” He argued, squeezing me again as I winced once more. His fingers slowly loosened, then he traced them back and forth along the back of my head. “... Let me take care of you now, hm? I’m strong enough for that.”

I didn’t say anything, but met his eyes bashfully again. A sound warmth reached those dazzling scarlet reds of his. I sighed deeply, and he smirked with an almost irritating smugness in recognition of my defeat. Shifting to roll closer to me and wrap his arms about my shoulders. Tucking my head against his neck and resting his chin on the top of my head. One hand began to draw slow lines up and down between my shoulder blades, the other cupping the back of my head. I drew in a slow, deep breath, pulling the scent of him into my lungs. Feeling myself slowly relax as I lay there with him, my eyes getting heavier by the minute. I wove my own arms around him, encompassing him with my own body even as he buried my head in his. 

It didn’t take much longer for me to fall into a deep, deep sleep. Securely and safely wrapped up in Grier’s arms...

....

“What could possibly have been going through his mind?” I scowled slightly, resisting the urge to let my nose scrunch up as well. “What possible thought could he have had to think that was even remotely acceptable to say?”

Grier smirked. “Well, I’m certain he had his reasons dear.”

“Impossible! It’s absolutely illogical, and hare brained at best.” I argued, then glanced at him sidelong. “... Don’t call me ‘dear’.”

The goblin grinned up at me. “How about ‘sweetheart’?” My small scowl twitched at the corners and he laughed. The sound echoed around us, bouncing off the stone walls. “I am just attempting to find the perfect pet name for you, love.”

I shook my head. “You’re ‘just attempting’ to change the subject. Are you afraid I’ll have that nobleman hoisted by the ankles for his blasphemy?” I returned. “.... D-don’t call me ‘love’.”

He drew in an excited breath. “Ah, excellent. You’re starting to get flustered.” He bared his pointy teeth at me. “That’s a good sign.”

I scoffed at him, feeling a slight flush pinch at the balls of my cheeks. “I-I am not!”

The King sidled up to me, snaking his arms around mine to match my long stride with a skipping step. “Everything is going perfectly to plan then.”

I chanced a quick peek around to be sure that we were alone in the halls. It had been nearly a month since the goblin King had first woken from his fever induced slumber, and every day a little more of his strength found its way back to him. And every day, he grew a little more bold. A little more affectionate.

I still didn’t care for over the top displays around others, even the attendants and guards posted strategically through the castles. Most especially around my sister. But found I didn’t mind so much the little ones… a pinky finger hooked around mine. A gentle hand on my shoulder in passing. A thigh tucked against my own when we were sitting. Not that anyone else seemed to mind. I just couldn’t seem to completely shake the uneasiness I felt at the idea of other eyes seeing his affections for me.

But Grier was nothing if not adaptable. He relished tugging me into a dark corner to steal a kiss when no one was around. Or palming my ass when we left a room. Once or twice he had even gotten a few buttons on my shirt undone in a stairwell before my shyness and good sense had gotten the better of me. He seemed to enjoy my flushed face, and I couldn’t help the way my heart skipped at his little smug smiles of accomplishment after each daring theft. And when we were alone? … Suffice it to say I was pretty sure I had taken more cold baths in the last month than the rest of my life combined. I also was pretty well versed in the goblinese alphabet in any order I may wish to recite it. Grier relished hearing me attempt to distract myself from his attentions; I was pretty sure he considered it a personal challenge to get me hot and bothered when I was trying very hard not to. And as his strength returned, it was getting harder and harder to remind him he was still healing and to take it slow.

This evening though, as we walked arm in arm, I felt a frown settle on my lips as I checked to be certain we were alone. I glanced around, a furrow digging into my brow.

“... W-where are we going?” I checked over my shoulder, my frown deepening. “I-I don’t… I don’t think this is the way to your rooms…”

The goblin chuckled, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “You’re really quite hopeless aren’t you, my young Prince?” He mused. “We haven’t even been in the right wing for some time now. Didn’t you notice we went up a flight of stairs??”

I glanced around again, but despite the slight air of unfamiliarity, the hallway looked just like any other. I swallowed a sigh. I had gotten lost a fair few times in the last month. It was an informal royal decree from both Morgana and Grier that I was not allowed to wander the halls unaccompanied anymore. It seemed I had a knack for ending up in quite the opposite place of my intended destination.

“I-it did seem… a little longer of a walk than normal.” I mumbled sheepishly. I was lying, of course, as it hadn’t really. Then shot him a sidelong look. “... Ah… where are we going then?”

Grier’s grin turned sly, and he glanced at me out the corner of his eye. “It’s a surprise.”

“But… but i-it’s late. Y-you shouldn’t be-”

The King scoffed, waving one hand errantly. “I have been given a clean bill of health now, pet. I am free to surprise my husband to my heart’s content.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out what he meant by that. “... D-don’t call me ‘pet’.” I hesitated, looking around again. “So w-where-”

“Still a surprise.” He interrupted me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “But I promise we are almost there.”

I relented with a stifled huff, letting him lead me as he would. I couldn’t help looking around curiously, but simply had no head for the layout of the castle. It was far more complex than the one I had grown up in, and even there I had some trouble from time to time. It had taken me nearly my full 25 years to grow comfortable with it; I imagined it would take much longer than that for me to settle into familiar paths in this castle.

“Are you looking forward to your brother’s coronation?” Grier asked by way of distraction for my nerves.

I peeked at him, my frown returning slightly to the corners of my mouth. “... No.”

The goblin chuckled. “I would have thought you would be happy to have him on the throne. A much more level and reasonable head than your father, I am certain.”

I nodded my agreement, checking down one dark hallway we passed instinctively. “Of course. Crown Prince Valerianus will be an excellent ruler, a boon to his people.” My voice strayed into the old formal flatness from my youth. But then I stopped, staring down at our feet as we walked. “... I-I am not looking forward to the coronation itself.” I dropped off momentarily. “... Least of all because Morgana will be staying with m-my… my brother upon our return.” The word still tasted strange to me.

“Just for a few months.” He reminded me soothingly. “A season at each castle. I believe it is quite the fair arrangement.” He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “It’ll go by faster than you think… What else worries you about the coronation?”

“... I don’t like parties.” I sighed. “I don’t like crowds of people… I-I prefer to be alone.”

“Except for me?” He offered.

I blushed, stammering for a moment. “Except f-for you...” I amended quietly.

His grin returned, and he tugged me to a halt. “Excellent. Because we are here.”

We stood beside a massive set of pine doors, inlaid with dark carved oak. A delicate but intricate pattern wove beautifully across each, and I considered that for a long moment. I looked around, then back at the doors, my head naturally tilting to the side as I tried to figure exactly where “here” was. Higher up, of course. Now that I was aware of it, we had climbed at least two sets of stairs to get here. But aside from the beautiful carved doors (which I was fairly certain I had never seen before) there was nothing overly distinct about our location, and nothing was familiar.

“Ah… sh-should I know where we are?” I asked timidly. Afraid he would be insulted that I did not, or disappointed his surprise was not completely evident to me.

The goblin was nearly dancing from foot to foot in his excitement. “Why don’t you open the doors and see?”

I hesitated, cocking one eyebrow at him. Then released his hand to push the left side door open. Grier pushed open the other, then stood with his hands behind his back while I assessed the room beyond.

It was a foyer. I knew that much. A grand fireplace to one side, a plush couch flanked by a pair of armchairs (matching, I was surprised to find) and a white marble table. To the other side, another pair of armchairs set on either side of a circular table set with a decadent chess set (those pieces didn’t quite seem to belong to each other though). I glanced over at Grier, and he nodded, encouraging me to go deeper with a large grin on his face. He jerked his head to the right, and I obediently went through the door there. A large reading room, with a tall window set into the length of one wall, a soft looking bench beside it. We were in the tower then, I surmised, craning my neck back to follow the floor to ceiling shelves with a thin ladder and narrow ledge at the middle to reach the second level of books. I could smell the old pages, and lingered for a moment. More plush furniture, cozy and soft looking. A few over the top decadent pillows, and a fair few knick-knacks, though they were neatly set about the room.

I turned back to Grier in the doorway, opening my mouth to speak. But he merely gestured for me to follow him back into the foyer, then across to the opposite door. This one was a closet, long and narrow, with a few cloth mannequins in between the shallow alcoves stuffed with vibrant colored clothes. At least on one side. On the other, my eyes widened slightly upon seeing dark, solid colors. Coats. Vests. White or cream shirts. Greys and blues mostly, with a few other colors smattered in between. Not stuffed, as the opposite side was, but neatly arranged and ordered by item types. Vests in one place. Coats in another. Tunics and shirts in the last. Boots and belts on hooks and shelves between. There were mirrors in the corner, each more decadent than the last and making the space seem even more full than it was.

Again I opened my mouth, the realization coming to me, but the goblin put his hands on my hips and started to push me towards the door in the back. I stammered a few useless sounds, but he persisted. Steering me through to the next room.

A bath. Large, with pearl and opal encrusted pools and delicate marble steps. I craned my neck back, finding a beautiful mosaic of colorful and sparkling tile in the ceiling. I marveled at it for a moment, breathing in the warm, steam filled air. Listening to the soothing sound of trickling water. A few raised basins lined the walls, with intricate stone carvings set into their backboards where water trickled into them before dripping off the sides and down to some unseen place in the ground beneath.

“There’s more.” He told me before I could speak. Catching my hand and tugging me through the door on the opposite side from where we had entered.

I followed behind, feeling in a daze. A bedroom this time, as evident by the bed large enough that I was certain a giant could comfortably lay sideways in it. It had tall, dark oak beams, and was filled with plush pillows along the headboard. Heavy curtains were neatly tied to the posters with golden rope, and there was another large fireplace off to one side. I recognized some of the bobbles and odds and ends from my time spent clearing his chambers. I dug my heels in, yanking Grier to a stop as I marveled at the room.

“A bed so big you could lose me in it.” He reminded me, his grin still ear to ear. “I hope this one with suffice. It was quite the commission.”

“... Th-this is… for us?” I mumbled timidly, and felt my face suddenly flush dark. 

He laughed. “Well, as long as it matches what you wanted.” He tugged my hand a final time. “But there’s one last surprise here for you.”

I obediently followed after him, letting him lead the way to the back corner. There was an archway, with a small little room to one side and a spiral stairwell to the other. The room was rounded on one side, with beautiful colored glass windows. The walls were a soft yellow, and the furniture was decidedly small. A small bed, a soft looking armchair with a sheepskin draped over it. And a cradle, alongside the window. My blush went even darker.

“Is it how you imagined?” He asked, stepping to the side to give me a better view. “I’m not sure what human nurseries look like, so I am afraid it might lean a little more to the goblin side of things.” His own scarlet eyes appraised the room. “We can of course change anything you’d like.”

“It… i-it looks…” I stepped shyly into the center, slowly pivoting on one foot. The setting sun broke through the glass, bathing the room into an almost magical glow. “... It looks… perfect…”

I jumped as his hands slowly came around my middle, and I felt him bury his face in the slope of my back. My breath fluttered from my chest, and I hesitantly rested my hands on his arms at my waist. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at that moment, so quickly it was soon throbbing. Especially as his hands began to slowly rub against my abdomen.

I glanced at the doorway, then blinked a few times. “Wh-where do the stairs go?” I asked tentatively. Eager to distract myself from the heat of him at my back.

He gave me a gentle squeeze, then slid around to stand in front of me once more. “I thought you’d never ask.” The goblin took up my hands again. “Come.”

The spiral stairs were narrow, but not uncomfortably so, and I had no trouble following behind him. Our boots clicked on the stone, and I could barely keep up with his eager pace. The stairs let up to a large circular room at the top, devoid of furniture. The walls were mostly all glass, save for the stone archways supporting it, with thick curtains bunched along their length ready to be drawn. A door opened opposite us, leading to a balcony around the outside edge. But it was the center of the room that drew my attention.

It was filled with blankets, rugs, and large pillows of varying colors and patterns. Creating a soft nest of sorts, and encircled with white candles that were somehow already lit. Their flames flickered on the surface of the polished glass, making it look like we were surrounded by soft faerie fire. The ceiling was domed, and also completely glass, and as I stepped closer, I dropped my head back to look up at the swirl of pastels dancing across the sky as the sun began to set. The room was filled with the soft smell of flowers, and I saw them hanging from planters along the top edge of the stone pillars, draping down delicately. There was also a strategically placed set of stout, square glasses, and a tray of amber filled decanters. I could see the mountains for miles in almost every direction, and again slowly turned in place as I took it all in.

I felt eyes on me, and dropped my own from the heavens to find Grier’s waiting. He smiled at me, a little shyly. Obviously waiting for my final reaction. I looked around again, feeling as if my breath had been stolen from my lungs. I realized my mouth had dropped open a little, and quickly deigned to close it.

“Perhaps not what you had in mind when you said ‘a balcony’.” He mused. “But I thought it might still impress...” He gestured to the blankets and pillows at the center. “Fancy a drink to top off the evening? Perhaps to celebrate our new abode?”

“Th-that…” I fumbled for the right words, still a little dumbstruck. I swallowed hard. “That sounds… It would be.. a-ah... P-perfect.”

He motioned for me to sit, then walked around and carefully closed the curtains of the windows, leaving just the domed ceiling overhead. I stopped at the edge of the nest, hesitating for a moment before removing my boots. It didn’t seem appropriate to tread over the fabrics with them. I noticed a few petals flittered among the pillows, and pondered at exactly how they had managed to get so far from their source. The sun had all but completely sunk below the horizon now, and the inky night sky was beginning to seep into the pastels left in its wake. Slowly, I sat amid the pillows, craning my neck back to watch the darkness’ progression.

I heard him come up behind me, as well as the shuffle of him removing his own boots. The hairs on the base of my neck rose as he sank down to his knees at my back, then I felt the heat of his body once again as he slowly wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I shivered as his hot lips suddenly pressed to the side of my neck.

“What do you think?” He asked me softly. His breath warm against my skin.

I felt my face flush, and looked down at my hands in my lap. “O-of the rooms? Or… Or of all this?”

He gave a soft ‘hmm’ at that, then kissed my neck again. “Both.”

I peeked over at the stairs, trying to ignore the way he moved his hands back and forth over my shoulders. “... I-I like them… You ah… Y-you definitely were listening…”

He chuckled, and my eyes drooped as he pressed his lips against my skin once more. “My sweet Prince, I’m always listening to you.” One of his hands rolled to trace slowly down my front. “... And this?”

I swallowed nervously, then pretended to be too preoccupied with considering the room to notice his nimble fingers undoing the buttons on my vest. “I-it reminds me of… o-of that… umm…” I flushed a little darker, distracted. “... That first dinner…”

He nodded, slipping in a little closer. “Our first ‘date’, so to speak.” I could hear his smile in his next words. “You remember.”

I nodded. “O-of course I do… it was…i-it was...“ I dropped off, struggling to find the right word.

“Special?” He offered, and goosebumps shot across my skin at the word. I nodded again, resisting another shiver. He hummed his approval softly. “That was the intent… though I have an entirely different goal for how I’d like this night to end… But I want to ask you something first.”

My breath caught in my throat at that, and I turned slightly to look at him out the corner of my eye. His fingers had halted, and I found an unfamiliar seriousness waiting for me when I met his gaze. It made my mouth twitch down, and I turned to face him a little more. Curious what he could possibly want to ask that had him so uncharacteristically somber. The goblin took a steadying breath, easing his hands slowly back to cup on his lap.

“Nikostratus…” He paused, drawing in a breath, “... Will you marry me?”

I blinked at him. “... We’re already married.”

Grier scoffed angrily, brushing his hand through the air. “Yes yes, technicalities and legalities and all that. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“But that’s… that’s what you just asked-”

“No! I mean, yes, that is, but that’s not what I meant.” He gave an exasperated sigh. I felt my mouth twitch at the corners as his tentative expression turned to a scowl. The goblin shook his head, then took up both of my hands in his. “What I meant was… will you, Prince Nikostratus… will you be mine? And will you take me as yours?” I started to open my mouth, but he squeezed my hands. “Not because of a treaty, or in case I die without an heir. Not because I’m a King, and you’re a Prince. Or for our people, or even for the sake of peace. Not to make anyone else happy… but because I asked you… because I love you…” His scarlet eyes dropped down to our hands. “... And because you want to-”

“Yes.”

He jerked sharply. “... What?”

I nodded. “Yes. I will. Because you asked. Because I want to.”

“... Just like that?”

I smiled shyly at him, and I saw his eyes sparkle at the sight. “Just like that.”

He released one of my hands from his and brought it up, turning my face towards him properly. I met his eager lips with mine, shifting to twist at my waist. Bringing my own hand up to tentatively trace along the edge of his sharp jaw. We held that kiss for a long breath, relishing in it together. 

Then he moved, stretching and rolling himself around to come to my side. Easing my now unbuttoned vest off my shoulders and teasing his tongue between my lips. I shrugged the vest off, letting him toss it to the side without breaking our kiss. Feeling his hands return to begin untucking my tunic and undoing the strings to my trousers. My own hands reached for him, finding first his waist, then the hem of his pants. Gently tugging his own shirt loose, slipping my palms underneath to press against his warm, bare skin beneath. My heart leapt and thudded in my chest, and forgot how to breathe for a moment as he broke our kiss to roll my tunic up and over my head.

His hands came to my shoulders, pushing me firmly, until I fell onto my back amid the pillows. And he climbed on top, straddling me and planting his firm buttocks quite soundly on top of the swiftly growing bulge at my pelvis. I nearly groaned, and saw the same intense heat in his own eyes as I felt rippling through my body. I watched as he pulled off his own top, revealing his muscular torso and taut green skin to my hungry gaze. He tossed his shirt to the side as well and came back down, kissing first my mouth, then pushing my head to the side with his nose to begin slowly licking and sucking at the curve of my neck. My eyes rolled back and a shiver of delight rippled through me at the sensation.

“... A-are… Are you sure you’re… Y-you’re…” I stammered, unable to manage a complete sentence with his lips trailing across my skin.

I felt his hum against my throat, and gasped as he gently nipped at me. “Absolutely.”

Grier came back up to lean over me, his hair falling wildly about his shoulders as he bent down. Pressing our lips together again to reassure me of his words. His hands came to rest on either side of my head, and I let my own trace hesitantly up his bare arms. First to his shoulders, then slowly down his muscular back. I marveled again at the warmth and texture of his skin, and shivered as it seemed to remind me of my own exposed flesh. I heard his jaw click slightly as he opened it wide, sneaking his tongue back into my mouth. Winding it around mine. Another shiver passed through me, and I felt him shift. Rubbing against my cock through our pants and leaving my head spinning again. I fed him a shuddering breath as he ground his own member against me, sending a prickling heat racing through my body.

He unlocked our mouths, bringing one hand up to turn my face to the side before burying himself against the tender flesh beneath my ear. The sound of his tongue working against my skin coupled with his hot breath in my ear had my hands on his back looking for purchase to pull him closer. He trailed his sharp teeth across my skin, and I caught my hand in his hair as he worked his mouth slowly down my body. My fingers curled into those messy locks, and I started to prop myself up on one elbow as he moved lower and lower. Wondering where exactly he was going.

Scarlet eyes flicked up to me, and the heat there made my heart skip and sputter dangerously. “Lay back.” He breathed against my skin, his voice several octaves deeper with the husk of his arousal. 

I did as I was told, settling into the pillows once more with my heart in my throat. Trusting him as the more seasoned player for exploiting our arousals. He had certainly proved himself quite skilled in such carnal desires over the past month. I felt his mouth trail kisses down my abdomen, felt his hands massage at my sides. My own hand was still buried in his hair, and it twitched as his fingers curled around the hem of my pants. Pulling them down and freeing my cock from their quickly shrinking confines. I tried to not think too much about how I was now laid  bare before him, even as my heart thrummed. Luckily the blood was rushing through a fairly different head of mine at that moment, and my thoughts were congealed and fleeting at best. And as his hands slid up the back of my thighs to cup my buttocks, I lost even that.

I jerked as something firm and wet flicked at the head of my cock. Then gasped as the sensation returned. The pant of his hot breath against my pelvis brought the shocking clarity to my swirling brain that it was his tongue currently rolling over and licking at me with abandon. At first, I was so surprised my mouth dropped open. But as his long tongue wrapped and lapped at all my most sensitive parts, I decided I really didn’t care. More heat poured through my body, until I felt the tips of my fingers and toes go numb. I tightened my hand in his hair, and groaned loudly as his lips suddenly closed around my erection. Enveloping it in that hot, wet mouth of his. I thought I could feel the tantalizing brush of his sharp teeth along its length, and he began to rhythmically work his way up and down my shaft. I groaned again, trying not to writhe too much beneath his hot breath and lapping tongue. His hands massaged at my cheeks, slowly pushing them tightly together then spreading them apart.

I was glad for the soft pillows beneath me as I smashed my head back recklessly at the wave of pleasure that washed through me. My hand bobbed with his head, riding up and down the full length of me. I could feel his lips scrape the hair at my pelvis, and each deep thrust left me twitching more than the last. I curled one of my legs half around him, needing to touch him. To feel the heat of the rest of his body. His hands worked between my butt cheeks, and I felt the tip of one beginning to massage my hole.

Damnit. I thought to myself as a pulsing flash of light filled my vision. I started to try to pull away from him, feeling myself cresting on the edge of pleasure. But he stubbornly latched on, somehow managing to bury my cock deeper into his throat. I gasped, then moaned, my fingers in his hair spasming. I would have felt embarrassed by my sounds, had I the capacity for any thought other than that of the sensations of his mouth wrapped around me. His finger flicked inside me, and I smashed my head back again with that final straw.

I shuddered, crescendoing over the top and crashing back down on the other side in a hot, rippling mess. I felt my cock throb, pulsing my cum straight into Grier’s waiting mouth. I would have flushed in embarrassment, had my entire blood supply not been otherwise preoccupied at the moment. My body became in as much mush, my bones forgetting their solidity, my legs feeling numb. I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out exactly what had just happened, but my thoughts remained a hopeless swirling mess.

Before I could fully return to myself, Grier’s mouth found mine. My hand at the back of his head slipped to cup his neck, and with a weak grip I pulled him closer instinctively. He tasted salty, but not at all bad, and I welcomed his long tongue back into my mouth. Breathy with the lingering memory of its previous exploits. I felt myself slowly returning, and found his hands still massaging and playing with my ass. And was quite aware of his own cock rubbing against my pelvis eagerly.

I didn’t let myself pause to think, reaching down. Wrapping my hand around him. He fed me an equally breathy pant as I firmly gripped his manhood. I started to sit up, half on my side, adjusting to allow myself better purchase while his hands still worked at my backside. I used the moment to explore his cock in my palm, sliding up and down its length, with the pale tuft of wiry hair at its base and running partially up his abdomen. He hardened more at my touch, and I couldn’t help the little giddy glee in my stomach at the feeling.

I wasn’t sure if I was expecting it to be different from a human cock. A quick glance confirmed it was as green as the rest of him, though the head was darker. I thumbed the veins and ridges, running my palm appraisingly over it. Grier seemed eager to indulge my whims, and his pelvis jerked at my movement. I was surprised to find it was not smaller, as I would have expected it to be considering his proportions. Despite the goblin’s stature, I was pretty certain his appendage was very nearly the same size as mine. It certainly fit my palm similarly, and I enjoyed the familiarity of its shape. Feeling more and more confident as I rubbed at it firmly, confirming to myself this fact. Grier broke back from my mouth to lightly nip at my lip with his sharp teeth, seeming unable to fully handle the pleasure and desperate for an outlet.

He quivered as I continued to pump my palm up and down his shaft. I moved my other hand from the base of his skull to massage at his shoulders. He tucked his face against my neck, panting against me. Palming my ass and drifting his fingers ever closer to my anus. I encouraged him by picking up my pace, and felt him bite at my throat with a soft groan. He murmured something I didn’t understand, and suddenly his fingertips felt moist and tingly as he slid them in and around my hole.

“I want to know what it feels like to be inside you, Nikostratus.” He purred against my skin, and I quivered with anticipation. Gasping softly as he worked his fingers deeper. Carefully massaging and stretching me out.

I gripped him even more firmly now, rolling my hand down the length of his shaft, slowly pushing back his skin to fully expose his sensitive head to the night air. He groaned again, and I delighted in the feeling of the vibration of it at my throat. Whatever magic he had placed on his fingers was soothing and cool, and I felt myself relax at his touch.

His hands came around, pushing me down with his palms at my shoulders. I didn’t object, falling back willingly. Feeling my legs shaking with my growing anticipation. He coaxed me onto my stomach, and rolled his hands back and forth over my cheeks a few times. I felt his cock slide between them, and heard his breath hitch as he rubbed it there for a moment. Then aligned himself properly. I didn’t dare try to look over my shoulder at him, my face hot, my breath catching. I tried not to flinch as I felt his head graze the ring between my cheeks, but couldn’t help the shiver of excitement. His preparations allowed him to push easily inside me, though he did so slowly. Relishing each tantalizing inch. I curled my fingers into the blankets, my mouth dropping open as his head ground slowly against a particularly sensitive spot. He moved until he had buried himself to his pelvis, and bent slowly over me. His breath splashed against my spine, and I felt him carefully roll his hips.

I closed my eyes, letting loose something halfway between a moan and a gasp. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. He rolled again experimentally, then I felt him shudder against me. He bent further, curling over my ass and resting himself on his elbows. Until he could lap at the sweat now slowly dripping down my spine. I quivered at that, lost in a fresh wave of pleasure as he ground and rocked into me again. And again. His mouth came to my skin as he moved, and I could feel his breath panting against my sweat slicked shoulders. He alternated between kissing and licking, but as his pace picked up, I felt his teeth prick my skin in between groans pressed into my flesh.

I relished the sound of his hips smacking against my fleshy bottom. I enjoyed the feeling of his cock thrusting deep inside me. He moved gently at first, but gradually picked up speed and force as his excitement grew and my sounds spurred him on. Before long, he released a string of goblinese. I didn’t have to understand it at all to know it was probably not in any way ‘proper’ or ‘polished’ speech. It made my heartbeat even more erratic, and his thrusts seemed to match it. I felt him shudder again, and stifled a moan with my face buried in the blankets.

Suddenly, he jerked and spasmed, and a small part of me imagined I could feel him pulsing inside me as he reached his own climax. Logically I knew whatever magic he had used to relax my ring would likely prevent that, but I preferred to still imagine I could.

The goblin dropped onto my back with a hefty gasp, his smaller body quivering. My own body alternated between melting into a semi-solid state and tensing into a shiver. Each panting breath I drew, I could feel his weight rise and fall along with it. Our heat melded together, until I wasn’t entirely sure where his body ended and mine began... Eventually, he planted a final kiss between my shoulder blades, and slid off my back with a soft thump.

I found a bit of solidity to roll onto my side a few breaths later, and jumped slightly as Grier practically launched himself into my chest. I would have laughed at that, had I any semblance of where my lungs were at that moment. Instead, I sluggishly draped my arms around him, feeling his pleased sigh against my sternum as I did.

When several long minutes had passed without sound, I started to crane my neck down to check if the King was even still awake. I was certain he must be unconscious; he would never have been this quiet otherwise. Though over the last few weeks I had found there were nights when he talked even in his sleep! A pair of languid, hooded red eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I raised an eyebrow. I had fully expected when we got to this… ‘moment’, he would be full of teasing, boisterous words. Perhaps some musing on our varying physicality, or a comment on some quality of my body. Leaving me flustered, stammering, and proficiently bothered. His mouth twitched at the corners, but I was surprised to find him continuing his uncharacteristic silent streak.

As the heat and rush of excitement started to fade from my body, I found my anxiety waiting. Perhaps he had been disappointed? Or found my performance lacking in comparison to his other partners? Had he overexerted himself? A pang of guilt hit me hard in the chest. I shouldn’t have let it go so far. I had been too caught up in the desire, and turned selfish. He was still recovering; it had only been a month after all. I fretted over this, feeling my body stiffen around him.

Suddenly, Grier chuckled, and his lips pressed lightly to the hollow of my neck. “Over thinking things, are you?” He mumbled, as if his lips weren’t able to move properly to form the words.

I shifted nervously. “I-is it that obvious?”

Another soft laugh, and he snuggled deeper into me. But he didn’t answer right away, breathing another sigh into me. My heart skipped about in my chest, bouncing around the walls of my ribcage. His hand came up, sluggishly smoothing against my skin, rubbing the side of my neck and down my shoulder. I tried to take comfort in that, adjusting my suddenly oversized tongue in my mouth. Still, I lay stiff as a board beside him, and after a little while he brought his lips back to the same spot at the base of my neck.

“I’m not much of a talker.” He fumbled by way of explanation, his words slurred and slow.

That did make me laugh out loud. “Since when??”

He hummed a soft, amused note, and I felt his eyelashes brush against my skin as they fluttered. “After sex, I mean.”

Instantly my face flushed at the word. “A-ah,” I stammered, then shifted a little. “I-I… I didn’t know th-that.”

I could almost sense his languid grin, and he pressed his lips to my hot skin again. Then once more, though softer. His body relaxed, and he buried his face against me. His warm breath spinning down my sternum to be trapped between our entwined bodies. I swallowed once more, but adjusted, curling more completely around him. Cocooning him.

I rested my chin on the top of his head, and let a soft sigh escape as I forced my own body to relax. We lay quietly for a while. I knew he wasn’t asleep, as I felt his lashes run along my skin each time he blinked. I borrowed reassurance from the sensation, and my muscles loosened more. My eyes found the stars over our heads, and I watched them amid the reflection of the candlelight.

“I used to spend a lot of time staring up at the sky,” I breathed, “Wh-when I was younger… I found I could hide better in the dark, a-and no one ever thought to look for me outside for some reason…” I ran my hand along his spine, letting the words simply flow from me. Not really speaking to him, specifically. Just speaking... As I had when he was sick, and I had attempted to keep the habit up since. “I liked the night… Things were… quieter then… P-people didn’t bother me as much…” I considered the stars I could see from my position tucked against him. “We had a small collection of books on the constellations… I think I memorized most of them, I read them so much… I-I liked to… to read. Whenever I could manage to, I would go to the castle library…” My hand skimmed up to play with the long strands of his hair spilling over his back. “There was this… one spot… It was, ah… it was where the walkway of the second level stopped short… But there was just a little gap before the top of the next pillar and… a-and I found that I could s-step from the walkway to the pillar, then around to the next… then in the corner, one of the bookshelves was shorter to let in the light from the window…” I turned my head, burying my nose in his silky soft hair. Breathing in his spicy sweet scent. I knew now he liked to burn sage and myrrh in his rooms. He found the scents calming... “I would sit on top of that shelf for hours… No one could ever find me… I had a pillow set up there, and I would leave my favorite books…”

His soft chuckle vibrated against my chest. “I see Morgana wasn’t the only adventurous royal.” He murmured into my skin.

My lips twitched at the corners. “... I-I’m mostly of the literary sort… I would go there when I’d had enough of socializing and crowds. After all the galas, and balls and… ” I hesitated, my hand pausing with the long strands of his hair twirled around my fingers. Suddenly reminded of another such impending event. “I-I… I don’t want a big wedding…” I confessed suddenly, wincing.

Grier shifted, seeming to come to life at my words. I stiffened, worrying he would deign to leave my side if he was upset enough. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he did, and felt my heart ache with the fear. I felt his hand, previously forgotten in the knoll of my neck, slide over my muscles. Down my pectorals, then back up. His kiss was soft against me, and I shivered at it.

“Alright.” He agreed readily.

I blinked in surprise. “... Y-you… you don’t mind?” I felt him shake his head against me, and my fingers in his hair tightened. “I-I thought you wanted… I thought you would want a big… a-a very big ceremony, especially now that-”

“I’ve told you this before.” He interrupted me. His hand lingered at my throat, his thumb following the lump as I swallowed. “I don’t know why you never seem to believe me. I want you to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“... Even if it wasn’t with you?”

The goblin leaned in to nip at my soft flesh with his teeth at my tempered teasing. “Alright.” He amended. “I want you to be happy with me. But... if you couldn’t be-”

I shook my head, wrapping him up in my arms and pulling him close. “I-it doesn’t matter.” I told him in denial of that possibility as he slowly wound his hand to my back. Entangling himself around me. “I don’t… I-I don’t think I could… I don’t think I could be...h-happy… without you.” He nuzzled into the side of my neck, until I could feel his breath in my ear, and I took courage from that. “I-I don’t think I’ve… I’ve ever been…” I dropped off, then shook my head again. “N-not like this…”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that…” He breathed, a happy relief in his voice. Then he paused, drawing small circles with his fingertips on my back. “I’ve been... obsessed with you… Ever since I first learned of you three years ago.” He confessed quietly, and I tried not to stiffen with his words. “I thought it was just some… strange fancy. One that would go away with time.” He smoothed his palm over my shoulders. “After I saw you… I just… always felt like something was missing. Though I couldn’t tell what it was… I certainly never put it together with you specifically.” He sighed. “Yet it was constantly driving me. Though I didn’t know it. It drove me to halt hostilities. Then to seek out the peace… and then… that drove you to me… and…”

He leaned back, pulling himself free from my embrace. I turned, looking down at him as his hands came about to cup my face. His long thumbs ran along my cheeks under my eyes, as his own seemed to study every pore. Our breath intermingled in what was left of the air between us, and electricity snapped in its wake. Slowly he stretched up, kissing me softly, gently. As if he were in a pleasant dream, and longed to do everything in his power to linger in it.

“And then I saw you again…” He murmured once he had finally leaned back. “I saw you in my castle, standing before me. Close enough to touch… and everything just… clicked. Everything became so obvious.”

“W-was it really so easy for you?”

“No.” He admitted. “I wasn’t lying back then, when I said you surprised me. I really never thought I would like you. I had never met a human before that I had found I could do much more than tolerate.” His head cocked to the side. “But I thought it would be... interesting, at least. And…” He grinned. “You are very handsome.”

My cheeks grew hot and I tried to flick my gaze to the side. He tightened his grip, tricking me into looking back at him in surprise. Just in time for him to kiss me again. I hummed a sigh against his mouth, my eyes fluttering.

“You are very handsome,” He declared, his voice soft, “And charming, and selfless, and sweet.” He kissed me again. “And I will keep telling you this until you believe me.” A final kiss, soft and tender upon my lips. “Now… how about that drink, hmm?”

The corners of my mouth twitched again as he untucked himself from against me and sat up. The goblin reached over, pulling the tray closer. There was a covered plate beside it I hadn’t noticed before, and felt a slight frown slip across my features as I considered it. Grier poured out a small dollop of brandy into each glass as I slowly sat up too. Pulling the loose end of a blanket modestly across my lap.

“What’s under there?” I asked, curious despite myself.

His grin grew, and he passed me a glass before using his now free hand to toss the silver cover off to the side with an unceremonious clatter. I jumped slightly at the sound, but didn’t have time to linger on it as the King proffered the now revealed plate of small misshapen yellow squares practically right under my nose. I raised an eyebrow at him, but carefully plucked one, hesitantly bringing it up for a precursory sniff. My eyes widened with delight as I recognized it, and I snapped up the entire treat in one quick bite. Letting the sweet but tart flavor roll over my tongue with a soft sigh.

Grier laughed, equally delighted, and picked up another after returning the plate to the tray. I met his eyes, suddenly a little embarrassed by my eagerness, my chewing slowing. But he held the fresh lemon cookie out to me, obviously pleased with the same behavior that embarrassed me. My lips twitched and I leaned in to take it directly from between his fingers with my mouth in a surprisingly bold whim. Which only made the delighted smile of his grow even more. Before I could pull completely away, he caught the back of my neck with one hand and stole a lemony kiss. I couldn’t help my own little chuckle deep in my throat and found myself a little surprised by it.

I washed the mouthful down with a sip of the brandy, watching him take one for himself and having an experimental nibble of it. “...You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, shooting me a coy look out the corner of his eye. “I do aim to please…. Is it everything you wanted for this night?” He scooched closer as I finished the last of the small serving of brandy in my glass. Climbing into my lap once I placed it to the side. “What else does your heart desire? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

I adjusted myself nervously, my heart skittering about in my chest as his warm skin brushed against mine. “I-I… What about you?” I mumbled shyly. “Surely you must-”

“I have everything I want,” He interrupted, reaching up and catching my face between his palms, “I have the man I love. My whole world. Right here.” He pulled me down gently to kiss me for several breaths. “So tell me, my sweet Prince, what do you want?”

I hesitated, my blush rising to my cheeks. He brushed it aside with his palms, and I peeked at him through my dark lashes. “I-I… I want… I just... want you…” I told him softly. “Just you…” I glanced to the side, taking a small breath, trying to let the words trapped in my chest flow out unchecked. “I-I want… I want to… to wake up next to you every morning, and I want to fall asleep with you every night...” I paused, peeking at him again, but when he didn’t interrupt, I added “...And I am fully aware that we will never wake up at the same time…” He laughed softly at that. Encouraged, I continued on, letting everything pour out in a rush. “I-I want… I want to see what ridiculous outfit you wear everyday, and I want to see you panic when your hair starts to turn white.” I reached up, thumbing his cheek. “I want to see what happens to green skin if you stay out in the sun too long, and I want to rule alongside you a-and leave this Kingdom to our children... I want kids with you… I want lots of kids with you... and I want to see you playing with all of them in the gardens. I want… I-I want to…” I swallowed hard, stammering and fumbling for the words momentarily. “I… I want to love you for the rest of our lives, Grier... and I want those lives to be very, very long…”

His hands slowly slid until he had fully wrapped his arms around me, surrounding me with his spicy sweet scent. Then he kissed me so deeply I thought perhaps the stars in the heavens had always been just a faded copy of the universe that flashed behind my eyes at that moment. The warmth, that lovely, wonderful warmth, started in my chest, and pulsed through me with each beat of my heart. Reaching out to every inch and molecule of my being. Until I couldn’t even remember what it was like to live and breathe without it. I didn’t even feel him lean back, but then suddenly his voice, bathed in tenderness, filled my ears. Blowing air across the smoldering coals burning hot in my chest until my whole body tingled with emotion.

“I see we are a perfect match then, my young Prince.”

...

The End...

[dweemeister]

Kiss of Death (1947)

When 20th Century Fox put together the pieces to launch a production of film noir Kiss of Death, the picture was to be a vehicle for leading man Victor Mature. Mature had impressed Fox’s chief executive, Darryl F. Zanuck, in a supporting performance as Doc Holliday in My Darling Clementine (1946). Zanuck wished to reward the Fox contractee with a starring role, buying the rights to the film’s story with Mature in mind. But no one at Fox expected what would happen next: an actor debuting in his first film role would overshadow Mature. Kiss of Death marks the cinematic debut for Richard Widmark, best-known at the time for his Broadway work in pleasant, romantic comedy roles. For his first movie appearance, Widmark – and I don’t write something like this lightly – provides one of the most terrifying debuts in film history. This is not to downplay the performances (of Mature, Brian Donlevy, or fellow debutant Coleen Gray) or the filmmaking, but Widmark’s performance alone make Kiss of Death – directed by Henry Hathaway, from a screenplay by Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer – an essential film noir.

After a failed jewelry store robbery on Christmas Eve, ex-con Nick Bianco (Victor Mature) is offered leniency from New York City Assistant District Attorney Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) if Nick can provide the names of his accomplices to the robbery. Against all common sense and in the belief his accomplices will take care of his wife and daughters, Nick refuses. He is handed a twenty-year sentence in Sing Sing. Several months into the sentence, he learns that his wife has committed suicide following a rape by one of his accomplices* and that his daughters have been handed over to an orphanage. Former babysitter Nettie Cavallo (Coleen Gray) divulges this news to Nick, who then indicates his desire to cooperate with the ADA. In an arrangement agreed to by D’Angelo and Nick’s lawyer, Earl Howser (Taylor Holmes), Nick becomes a jailhouse informant and is given the possibility of an earlier parole. While serving as a jailhouse informant, he will encounter Tommy Udo (Widmark) – who, eventually, uses any means at his disposal to keep Nick silent about his plans and partners-in-crime.

The film also stars Mildred Dunnock (appearing briefly in one of the most memorable scenes in any film noir), character actors Howard Smith and Millard Mitchell, and only the second credited film for eventual star Karl Malden.

Before commenting on how the performances heighten what could have been your run-of-the-mill film noir, Norbert Brodine’s (1938’s Merrily We Live, 1949’s Thieves’ Highway) cinematography and J. Watson Webb Jr.’s (1944’s The Lodger, 1952’s With a Song in My Heart) editing are superb. One only has to watch the opening moments of the film to witness the benefits of their collaboration. The failed robbery scene is a textbook example of economical filmmaking. Webb’s cutting neither lingers nor moves away too rapidly for the audience’s comprehension. Brodine’s strategic placements of his camera and use of blocking – of Mature, the supporting actors, extras, and the production design – ratchets up the tension, suggesting without any words how little room for error there is in this operation. Small details such as what level an elevator is on allow the audience to agonize – however much we do not want to see this robbery succeed – over the robbers’ wasted seconds. In Kiss of Death’s tensest scenes, this mercurial combination splices into moments that will shock and unnerve. Kiss of Death is an ideal counterargument to black-and-white film’s uninformed naysayers but, more compellingly, an entry point for film noir novices.

When complemented with Richard Widmark’s performance, Kiss of Death becomes horrifying. Widmark’s face often sports a toothy half-grin that only serves to intimidate. To make matters worse, as Tommy Udo, his staccato snigger accompanies a grin belying a man unhinged, delighting in his sadistic and psychopathic ways. Udo’s disconcerting voice and manner of speech reveals a character as slippery as a soapy eel. The way he tells a cop prodding for information that, “I wouldn’t give you the skin off a grape,” comes laced with dismissal, menace, and even playfulness.

It is difficult to watch the harm Tommy Udo brings to others. But Widmark is so convincing in the role, it is impossible to keep one’s eyes off of him. If you are aware about the basics of the Hays Code, you can easily guess Tommy Udo’s fate. But beyond the scope of the film’s narrative, the character inspired certain men in American colleges and universities to form Tommy Udo clubs or fraternities. These clubs and fraternities codified Udo’s disgusting male chauvinism – as if colleges and universities needed any more such behavior. It is a magnificent about-face from Widmark’s Broadway roles at the time; his actual off-screen persona (by all accounts, Widmark was one of the kindest people in Hollywood and was known to apologize for any hurtful words or behaviors he performed while in character on a film shoot); and many of the upstanding roles he would play later in his career.

Though outshone by Widmark, Mature strikes the balance of being a former hoodlum and caring parent. His physical acting cannot hide his character’s violent past, but – akin to his performance as Doc Holliday the previous year – there is ample room for melancholy and remorse. Mature pairs well with Coleen Gray, whose innocent demeanor recalls her later performances in Red River (1948) and other film noir projects.

Speaking of film noir, most noir is set in an urban environment and filmed on a soundstage. Kiss of Death is no exception to this rule, but a decent portion of the film was shot on-location in New York City and numerous interiors do not feel as if shot on a soundstage. The Bianco family home has a riverfront view in Queens and the interior and exteriors of the Chrysler Building (where the opening heist is filmed), Criminal Courts Building, Sing Sing (Hathaway had Mature and Widmark go through a simulation of convict processing to help them embody the mindset of a prisoner), among other locations. Quotations from the main theme of Alfred Newman’s score to Street Scene (1931) bolsters the authenticity of the film’s New York environment. In terms of backgrounds and production design, there is little sense of artificiality that might have emanated from an all-too-obvious soundstage. Hathaway’s direction posits Kiss of Death as documentary-like without ever quite crossing the lines of fiction and non-fiction. In combination with the performances, these decisions, in aggregate, elevate Kiss of Death from just another film noir. No disrespect intended to the esteemed and prolific screenwriters, Ben Hecht (1932’s Scarface, 1946’s Notorious) and Charles Lederer (1940’s His Girl Friday, 1960’s Ocean’s Eleven), but this was not their most original screenplay – ideologically, structurally, or in terms of character development.

Other reviewers have noted how Tommy Udo might have been influenced by the Joker from the Batman comics. Some go further, claiming that Widmark was a fan of Batman and based Udo’s persona on the Joker and that actor Frank Gorshin based his portrayal of The Riddler in the 1960s Batman television series on Udo. There are no primary sources to confirm any of these claims. If any prior narrative media influenced Widmark’s performance, I cannot confirm any such claims however convincing, on the surface, they might be. The provenance of the influences of and by this performance remains a mystery.

Kiss of Death derives its power almost solely from its performances and nail-biting action. The latter is almost entirely accomplished with slower and/or less motion than one might expect. It is another tribute to the editing’s manipulation of space and time that segments featuring a steady walk, a seemingly ordinary dinner table conversation, or a character sitting alone in darkness watching the movement across the street can leave viewers with wide eyes and goosebumps. Kiss of Death may not stake a claim to being one of the best examples of film noir. Yet through its incredible performances and dramatic ferocity, it will leave impressions that will jangle even the most composed viewers.

My rating: 8/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* Actress Patricia Morrison (1943′s The Song of Bernadette, 1946′s Dressed to Kill... but better known for her stage performances) was cast as Nick Bianco’s wife. She filmed both the rape and suicide scenes, but both were cut in the final print. It is unknown who – Hathaway? Kohlmar? Zanuck? – made this decision. But I imagine that the Production Code Administration, applying the Hays Code which forbade such depictions, might have been instrumental in forcing Fox to drop the scenes.

[zukofenty]

always be my maybe

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara could never quite get their timing right. Especially when the universe throws a lost condom, thousands of miles, and a baby in their way. 

“I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, Celebrity Chef!Katara, Doctor!Zuko, Love, Rosie!AU 

AO3 @zutaraweek

“Go a couple rounds, leave Zuko’s dick up in a casket!” Toph screams into the microphone, undeterred by the various guests who stare up at her, mouth open and half-chewed, dry-as-fuck chicken spilling out. It wasn’t her fault, really! As soon as Zuko handed the mic off to her, he basically gave her free reign to spit a Megan Thee Stallion verse in his honor. “Sing with me, bitches! Look up the lyrics on Genius.com, Cheryl!” 

 “Sit down !” Katara squeezes out from clenched teeth, ripping the device out from the girl’s grip. 

 “I didn’t even get to the chorus, you fucking whore .” A bridesmaid nervously plucks the mic from their table and avoids eye contact with both of them. “What’s going on with you, bitch?” Toph asks quietly. She could tell Katara’s been doing her fake smile for the last twenty minutes. The girl was practically going to break her face open with how hard she was grinding her teeth. 

 “Just thinking.” Katara wants to smack herself in the face, pinch a nipple and bring herself to reality. Everything felt too real, and Toph could sense it. She’s the type to somehow sense when Katara shifts in her seat a certain way to covertly satisfy a cooch itch, and then buys her Monistat the same day. 

 She hates that she could never hide any emotion from her. Toph could always figure out the puzzle pieces that were Katara. One of the few to know the real her, besides Zuko. 

 Sometimes Katara thinks the younger girl knows her better than him. At least now. Especially now. 

 “About?” Toph takes an experimental sip from the wine glass, and gags. The juice tasted like Gatorade and cum. “Why the fuck would anyone want a dry wedding? Weddings are the only time you get to see your alcoholic uncle vomit all over the bride’s shoes, and then your closeted aunt has to wipe up the puke and her reputation from the floor while thinking of her secret girlfriend at home watching Tiger King .” 

 “That example was extremely specific and extremely unnecessary.” Katara brushes a crunchy curl, doused in hairspray, from her eyes. 

 “Sorry, I got distracted. I had dick on the brain, or whatever Rihanna said,” Toph mumbles, risking a bite of the chicken.

 Katara turns to see him at the couple’s table in the center of the extravagant wedding, and sighs. “And for your information, I was just thinking when will he penetrate my esophagus? You know, just girly things.” 

 Toph has the gall to slap the girl on the cheek. 

 Katara holds her stinging face, eyes narrowed in an unspoken threat for fucking up the parts of her face she didn’t set with powder (she was going for a dewy look, sue her). “Not fair! You were the one who called my throat the baby chute earlier today!”

 “Ok, throat goat. One, he’s getting married. Two, you’re sick.” 

 “My therapist will most likely cosign that,” Katara sighs. Toph holds Katara’s hand and leans her head on her shoulder as they watch Zuko mingle with guests. 

  This is the happiest day of his life. 

 Her best friend of twenty odd years was getting married. He looked so handsome, so happy. A suit that looked like it would cost someone’s rent and a half casually hugging his muscular frame. A blinding smile on his face, cheeks flushed from champagne and excitement. 

 When he turns her way, his smile grows impossibly wider. Toph clinks on a champagne glass with a fork, breaking it a la Princess Diaries , and Katara could feel the stares of nearly everyone in the room, ready for her speech. 

  It should be the happiest day of my life, too. 

  Right?

 Katara thinks she wants to cry. 

 //

 Now, how come none of those Judy Blume, coming-of-age books have a chapter on how to write a Best Woman speech for your best friend getting married to another woman, even when you were struggling with the fact that you might have been in love with him for the past two decades? 

 Bitch, what the fuck do you even start that Google Doc with? 

 Does she start at 4 years old? When Katara thinks Zuko is an annoying piece of shit?  

 But, you know, he’s her piece of shit. 

 Guys have hepatitis, or cooties, or whatever Sokka said, she couldn’t exactly remember. All she remembered was Zuko sucked. He stole her crayons and made fun of her Hello Kitty backpack on the first day of school. He was the stupid one, not Hello Kitty . Never Hello Kitty . She’d shoved his face into the playground’s wood chips, threatened to cut off his peepee for breathing down her neck with his retainer breath, and even stuck his head in between two slices of white bread and lovingly referring to him as an ‘idiot sandwich’ (Sokka let her watch too many Gordon Ramsey hosted shows while their dad was working late). 

 Zuko and Katara were practically inseparable ever since. 

 Or 10, when you were asking for trouble if you fucked with Zuko.  

 He was a tiny kid, glasses too big for his head. Hair shaggy, clothes too oversized for him (just the way he liked it). His dad had tried beating it into him that it showed weakness by not making waves, not being loud and proud. But, he was quiet by nature. For him, it was just easier. 

 Not stirring the pot, being the observer, looking in from the outside. He was just Zuko , he liked Wonder Woman comics and figuring out what other words besides BOOBIES he could spell with his calculator instead of actually doing his math homework, because he was bad at math. Bad at everything, really. Everything but band class. Even if he did hate that stupid fucking tsungi horn. 

 His mom would hide his report cards from his dad, especially the ones noting how shy he was (Mrs. Kim had used the exact words ‘very antisocial, very easy to bully’). Even when Ursa would ask him to try, try to make friends outside of Katara, he was always a stubborn little thing. Something you got from your father , she would say, the smile slipping off her face just the slightest.

 It was just more fun being by himself, the only exception he made was Katara. He spent his recess scribbling down a plot for a Love Amongst the Dragons Fanfiction and listening to Katara’s iPod he’d steal from her, just because he could , after she snuck it out from her backpack for the 10 minute break they had. It was the iPod she spent the last two Christmases saving up with Sokka for. Zuko insisted he could master Ludacris’s rap in Usher’s “Yeah!” and practiced the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she had custody of the device.

 Some days, Katara would sit beside him in her signature puffy blue jacket, struggling to fold herself to fit on the blacktop beside Zuko. The patented jacket her grandmother forced her to wear every single day obstructing her abilities. He snickers, but keeps quiet, content with plotting out a story that he would hopefully get to type out on the school library’s computers if his mom picked him up late again. She usually did, much to the dismay of the ladies at the front office. They typically hissed at him (which made him cry, to which they would have to offer him a cherry Otter pop so they wouldn’t face a lawsuit) and called his mom words he couldn’t repeat without getting in trouble (“Whore”). 

 Katara would babble on about her day, sometimes thinking of ways for his characters to die a painful death, or cooking up Fanfic plots for Beyoncé and Britney Spears to find love among the chaos of a zombie infestation. She always insisted she brought the creative range to their friendship. Some days though, Katara forgets all about him and plays handball with all the most popular girls in school. 

 Zuko’s jealous. 

 (Sometimes.) 

  She’s my best friend! He wants to scream in their faces. At the end of the day, he thinks he’s going to lose her. The day she realized she was too good, too cool for the likes of him. 

 “Chan, stop it!” Zuko squeaked, his notebook snatched from underneath his nose. The boy was always picking a fight. Your dad buys you a Motorola flip phone and suddenly you think you’re the shit. 

 The boy sneers at Zuko, flipping through the pages. “What do we have here? Are you drawing Shrek with boobies? You’re gonna jack off to that later, freak?” 

 Before Zuko could get a word in and defend his honor, Chan’s entire body was shoved to the ground, a dainty foot cased in a light up, white Skechers sneaker pressing into his face. Zuko couldn’t help his glee as Katara could barely be peeled off and stopped from repeatedly slamming Chan’s face into the hopscotch chalk court. “It’s all ogre now, bitch!” 

 She made sure to pin her detention slip to her Bratz backpack with pride. Zuko buys two treats that day from the student store before he walks her home. 

 “You’re my best friend, forever and ever,” Katara declares, head held up high. Zuko saw through it, though. He knows she’s scared of what Hakoda has to say, what Gran Gran has to say. So, he holds her hand tight, trying to relay his gratitude in the touch. 

 He licks at his Spongebob popsicle. The eyes had melted off and looked more like someone’s worst nightmare than an icy treat. Katara had wanted his cherry Otter pop, and he happily handed it over. “Pinky promise?” He holds out his finger. 

 Katara hooks her finger around his, dwarfing his tiny digit. Her outstretched smile stained orange. “I’ll break yours if you ever forget.” 

 At 15, Katara came to the realization that men have the emotional intelligence of a Souplantation crouton (may Souplantation rest in peace). 

 Growing up, with their dad and grandma always at work at their store, Katara was always in charge of cooking. No matter how many times she’d try to get Sokka to do it, he always insisted he was far too busy with taking out the trash, killing bugs, hating women. So, she was stuck with it, and honest-to-Rihanna, really liked it. Not that she’d ever let Sokka ever get the satisfaction of knowing it. It was her time to be alone, gave her the space to pop in a Cheetah Girls CD and pretend she won Masterchef with the struggle meal straight out of a Spam can she had to pound on a few times to get it to squeeze out from its gelatinous casing, or a whitewashed recipe she tried replicating whenever she catches a Rachael Ray rerun. 

 Though, Katara’s favorite time was chopping up the green onions under Ursa’s careful eyes, a hand always just there in realign the knife just in case she’d carelessly cut the green onions too big to garnish. Then, Ursa would then take out scissors because nobody had time for that. When his dad wasn’t home, Zuko’s mom opened up their doors across the street to the siblings, rambling about the next big painting she was planning as they scarfed down a home cooked meal. 

 Zuko was similar to his mom in that regard. They were the type of people who managed to make everyday moments larger-than-life, made it infectious, too. When it’s nighttime and he’s snuck into and snug in Katara’s room, he’d tell her dreams too big for anyone’s comprehension. Sometimes he dreamed he had tits that would leak chunky chicken noodle soup. Sometimes he’d ramble until her eyes are flitting shut and he’s left talking to himself and measuring his hand with hers, securing the leg she instantly throws over his waist. He’d like to think he was her only exception in the Souplantation crouton narrative. 

 Her bed is starting to smell like him, too. His favorite Costco brand shampoo and conditioner that he leaves in her bathroom, permeating her nostrils when she pulled him close. She even let him put up a Drake poster right next to her plethora of Rihanna ones, but only after he let her draw a penis on both his and Drake’s face. What he didn’t account for was her using a permanent marker, or the fact he couldn’t scrub it away from his cheeks for the next two days. 

 It was easy like this, just the two of them. 

 He’s there for all the birthdays and Halloweens and Christmases that left her not quite feeling whole. When things were hard, when things fucking sucked, when she wanted nothing more but to die. He was there, (stupidly) holding out his hand and willing to be the eye to her hurricane.

 At 15, Zuko decides Katara feels home.  

 At 18, Zuko had already been Katara’s many firsts. 

He was her first buffet partner, and brought back his Justin Bieber haircut just to pretend he was 12 so they could qualify for children's rates and a complimentary Oreo cheesecake because they were always celebrating his “birthday.” 

 Her first clubbing partner the second she turned 18, rubbing her back when any Beyoncé song with a Jay-Z feature came on because the second he cheated on Beyoncé, he cheated on everyone in the Beyhive. The first one to have to hold her as she hurled on his shoes, the first one to have to take her to get her stomach pumped. 

 The first person she tried to roll a joint with. 

  “I don’t need to learn that.” 

  Katara purses her lips. “And why not?” 

  He gestures to his face. “I’m too pretty. Only ugly bitches know how to do that . ” 

  Sokka thinks he needs to intervene when he hears Zuko’s tsungi horn case being chucked across the room . 

 The first person she (almost) fucked. 

 His family life was, for lack of a better word, fucked up. Katara had been witness to the drinking, the drugs, the crying. The nights where she sometimes didn’t know if the person standing in front of her was Zuko. She just wanted one night away from it all, just one night out on the town. 

  “That was kind of terrible,” Katara admits easily, wincing because she was sure he spilled Papa John’s garlic dipping sauce in his shitty Corolla’s air filter last Tuesday. He tried positioning his arm naturally underneath her head while their half naked bodies were pressed together, but he ended up smacking off her glasses. He even had the audacity to contently sigh as though he accomplished something, rather than just tangle her hair and give her a tension headache. 

  She felt lied to! Cheated! Bamboozled! Hoodwinked! All the Shrek and Y/N stories on FF.net could not prepare her for the fact that there weren’t any tongues fighting for dominance, or any mouths that tasted like cinnamon or musk or shit like that. It was just retainer to retainer and smelled distinctly of her awkward friend (cheese). It was sweaty and a lot of weird humping and felt like a visit to the gyno. 

  “Hey! I thought it was pleasantly average.” He clears his throat. “You know, besides the fact you farted mid-insertion and I started crying after 20 seconds.” 

  “You mean right after you came, right?” She says matter-of-factly. 

  He glared. “Is it my fault you have a gorilla grip pussy? Is it?” 

  “Zuko, you’re so fucking — ” 

  “What happens when you put a hot dog in the microwave for 2 minutes?” He crosses his hands and folds them over his lap like a professor waiting for a volunteer to answer the equation on the board. 

  “So in this metaphor, are you calling my pussy a microwave?” 

 But in true Zuko and Katara fashion, it was clumsy and a mess and could be erased with an emergency Burger King outing where they ate in silence and pinky promised never to speak of it again. 

 She wonders if Zuko should’ve been her first date to prom, too. 

 She wants to stop feeling so bothered . She couldn’t quite pin it, but lately everything he did frustrated the shit out of her. How he was taller than her now. How he didn’t need her to fight his battles because he goes to the gym now and wears a fake Gucci belt because he’s just so cool (brooding Asian guy is the trend, and Zuko thinks he’s the blueprint). How he said yes to going to prom with Mai, the prettiest girl in their grade.

 “Don’t look in there!” Katara yelps, a blush creeping on her cheeks. 

 “Why?” Zuko questions, taken aback. He was entirely too comfortable in her room.

 “Um. Maybe I don’t want a freak going through my dirty underwear pile!” Her eyebrows are halfway done, and she only has one eyelash glued on. She was stressed, scared her dress might not fit with how many of Sokka’s cookies she stress-ate because she just wanted the night to be perfect . 

 “Relax, what are a few discharge stains going to do to me, huh? If anything, it gives your pussy some much-needed personality.” Zuko wasn’t going to stop until he found his fake Gucci belt in Katara’s closet. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs. 

 “Do I have to remind you about the time you broke our friendship bracelet while masturbating and I dug the bead out of your vagina like the good friend I am?” 

 She shoves him back from the closet, crowding in his space. That belt was going to remain in its rightful place. “Oh, fuck you! I took the fall for you when you opened your laptop in history class and forgot to exit from your “VIBRATING PANTIES” porn tab!” She pushes him before plopping on her bed. 

 Katara buries her face in her pillow at that point, too entirely embarrassed and body too hot to continue to look at his nonchalant face. He doesn’t quite remember when exactly Katara became so cute . 

 Pretty? Definitely. Fearless? For sure. 

 But blushing Katara, embarrassed Katara, cute Katara? 

 He thinks it’s because they rarely saw each other now, despite his patented place in her bed. His band, Hello Zuko, was aiming for at least a few dive bar performances to build a reputation, especially with their new title track “Tennis Ball.” Katara was a familiar face at their town’s soup kitchens.

  “Where are you going?” he would sleepily mumble as he tried taking his midday nap before late night performances.

  Katara’s hands are full with ingredients, swaying side to side and eyes red and drowsy. “Trying to temper chocolate. Why? What’s up?” 

 She never misses a performance, though. Comes to them with a sparkly poster doused in glitter, and t-shirts with his face on them and everything. He never misses a fundraising event, making sure to bring a steaming thermos filled with tea because Katara was never the type to remember to take care of herself, and always buys out her fundraising goodies (even her overbaked brownies.) 

 He pulls her up by her ponytail, cupping her face in between his hands. 

 “You look cute.” 

 “You look like the human equivalent of toeless socks,” Katara mumbles, face squished in between Zuko’s hands. “Why are you giving my clit piercing a kiss kiss right now? What do you want?” 

 Zuko shakes her head in between his hands. “Pinky promise me you’ll drop all penises to dance with me if they play any Usher song?” It was like he was in fifth grade all over again. “Call me a Nissan because I just want you Altima-self.” 

 She lets out a cackle, the sound nearly deafening. “Don’t worry, the DJ will get us falling in love again in no time.”  

 “Do you have to go with Jet?” He asks, pouting. He lays his head in her lap, too entirely preoccupied with picking at her pilling sweatpants to look at her questioning eyes. They promised they were going to be each others’ dates at the beginning of the school year. It was more fun going to dances with Katara. She knew how to do the worm and every lyric to every Rihanna song out there (but she refuses to sing any with Chris Brown parts). 

 “What? You know I like my men stupid.” She runs her hands through his locks, undoing the crunchy gel job that Iroh had painstakingly spent time on. Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him it made him look like a youth pastor.

 “You do like your communal meat thermometers.” He wants to keep the hurt out of his voice. 

 She shoves him off her, getting up to put on the dress hanging off her closet’s door handle. “You’re going with Mai, remember?” She yells through the closed closet door. 

 “But the thing is, I’m not planning to fuck her afterwards at the shitty hotel like it’s some type of CW show with some old bitches playing teenagers!” 

 “Just say XOXO, Gossip Girl .” 

 He still resents her for getting him invested in Blair Waldorf’s headband collection. “It’s not my fault Jet looks old. He looks like he’s at least 27 for fuck’s sake!” His face grows more distressed as he spits out each word. He only said yes to going with Mai after finding out Jet asked Katara using some shitty poster that said “my heart is always running when I see you” with a box of Nike outlet sneakers after English class. 

 “I think you’re just jealous that I emptied my intestines for someone who is about to be in it within the next three hours. When have I ever done that for you?” 

 Zuko’s about to retort something until Katara slams open the door, flooding his eyes with a dusty blue, curve hugging dress that did weird things to him. Like make his heart beat out of his chest, and his throat all dry when he’s searching for the words to say. Looking for the right words that say he thinks it’s impossible someone’s smile could make sunsets brighter, make the stars twinkle even more, make the unthinkable just a fingertip’s grasp away. 

 “Can you see the outline of my underwear and/or desperation from the back?” Her spin has him bumbling like an idiot. 

 //

 He wishes it was Katara that night. Letting him shyly press his sweaty fingers into her waist as Katy Perry’s “E.T.” pierced their eardrums. He knows she would have pinched his nipples as punishment, all things considered. But the fluorescent lights of the disco ball would’ve highlighted how her pretty flush would dust her cheeks, and he would hold her close to his beating heart despite her complaining her foundation would stain his Target dress shirt, and everything would make sense. 

 “Did you cum?” Jet was absolutely pretty with an oh-so fat horse cock. Too bad he was like the Justin Timberlakes of the world, and always spoke unprovoked. 

 Katara scoffs. “Yeah, I came to my senses.” She flicked his forehead. “How would I do that? Tell me. How the fuck would a few thrusts and you panting your Sweet and Sour sauce breath in my ear get me off?” She shoves the sweating boy off her. “Can I say jk and will it make me a virgin again?” The hotel room had scratchy sheets and smelled like a waterpark bathroom. 

 He groaned. “I’m sorry .” He’s completely unremorseful. “Your tits smell like Cinnabon’s cinnamon rolls and I couldn’t help myself!” Katara is about to cut his dick off for breathing in the same vicinity as her, before a gasp stops her entire world. 

 //

 “Zuko!” she screeches, opening the hotel door with the same devastation as when Britney Spears discovered Ryan Seacrest wasn’t gay painting her features. 

 “You know what they say.” Zuko’s smirking, entirely ignoring Katara fuming. “Chlamydia is the powerhouse of the cell.”

 “You’re. A. Dick!” She says in between smacks to his head. Jet makes a speedy exit, still pantsless and clutching his suit to his chest, while Zuko mouths a ‘ call me’ to Mai, who amusedly waves goodbye to Katara. 

 “Oh god, this is exactly like the bead incident all over again.” 

 “ You’re not helping! ” 

 “Maybe we’ll find Atlantis up there too,” Zuko murmurs, concentrating on positioning the hotel’s mirror under her legs. 

 “Please, Rihanna. Have mercy on me.” Katara’s hands are in prayer mode as Zuko turns on his phone’s flashlight. “I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me. All those times I took an extra gummy vitamin were a joke . I never wanted to die, I just wanted to feel a little thrill in my life. Please—” 

 Zuko screams when the squelch of the condom splatters onto the mirror. 

 //

 “You’re wearing underwear under there right?” He likes the look of his blazer draping over her, buttoned to look like a chic, oversized dress and not because it was the easiest thing to throw over Katara to run and grab Plan B. 

 “No, because I would obviously let my fat cooter out, cute and bare and vulnerable in a Walmart.” 

 “A simple yes would have sufficed.” 

 She’s reaching for the box and wincing at the price when she feels a gentle nudge on her arm. “Ma’am, your entire pussy is out in a Walmart,” the employee breathes out pathetically. 

 “I am well aware.” She ekes out. 

 The employee eyes her up and down with a gaze that practically calls her a whore . “Please put her away.” Zuko’s face grows beet red as he tries holding back a laugh. 

 It was always easy like this. When the world was just Zuko and Katara, holding hands in her driveway while they watched the sun rise in his shitty Corolla. She’s still wrapped up in his blazer, he’s since loosened his cheap tie and his hair is sticking every which way. She likes his smile, especially now that it comes so easy. 

 He’s smiling a lot more now that his father is gone. Ozai essentially told Azula and Zuko to fuck off , and ran off to some big city to steer a hospital with too many controversies and too many white guys at the helm. Iroh came back from his meditation sabbatical, enthusiastic to take care of the siblings. Zuko seems a lot happier with Iroh around, and even spends nights sleeping in his actual bed. (Katara’s a little hurt, but keeps that to herself). 

 She wishes she could bottle up these moments with Zuko up and just hold them in her hands. Moments when they were still young and curious and still had time to wait for life to figure itself out. She wants to find a way to make these a permanent fixture, instead of memories that would fade with age. “Let’s get out of here,” he offers up, eyes starry. 

 “Yeah?” She folds her knees up to her chest, and he taps her under her chin to level their gazes. 

 “ Republic City . We can make something out of lives. Medical school, culinary school. Get out of this shithole. Get away from our past.” His smile is contagious. “Best friends, forever and ever, right?” 

 She’s so pretty, her wide eyes sparkling as they take in the rays of sun. She returns his smile. “Best friends, forever and ever.” 

 Katara remembers how Ursa would say Zuko always dreamt too big, his heart always wanting so, so much . 

 “It’s a blessing, but more of a curse,” she would note, with the wisdom only mothers are capable of possessing. Sometimes, Katara selfishly thinks the day Ursa left hurt her more than it hurt Zuko. They were impossibly close, to the point where Zuko even had to intervene when Ursa started siding with Katara during their arguments (he knows in his heart his Mother’s Day macaroni portrait of her was better). 

 She would wonder how the world could let her live like this, dangling something she’s always wanted right in front of her face, only to snatch it away. Wonder if it was easier to die, than live with a hole in her heart that seemingly doubled in size overnight. 

//

 “Zuko, please look at me.” 

 He’s mad, she could tell. With his pout and the way he was forcibly trying to squeeze his eyes in a glare. He’s been sitting in the same spot in her bed, eyes trained on tutorials on how to convincingly persuade your doctor to give you an adderall prescription and “who bit Beyonce” conspiracy videos. 

 “Well, what if I just wanted you to respect my privacy! For the first time in 15 years! Maybe I needed space!” She yelps after twenty minutes of the silent treatment. 

 Zuko sends her a look that has her freezing up on the spot. “Katara, you had a whole baby .”

 She felt thoroughly scolded, but she was stubborn. “And? What about it?” 

 “You had an entire one, and didn’t even bother to tell the godfather? When was I supposed to find out?” 

 Katara didn’t think that one through, to be honest. It was easy to forget, in between diapers that smelled like a fish sauce and an expired Vagisil smoothie, and balancing work. She lays down beside him, thoroughly exhausted after putting her little girl, Yue, down for a nap. “One, who made you the godfather? And two, I guess we’re just not close like that.” 

 “Look, I literally have your social security number memorized, and have practically given you a Pap smear. You really want to say ‘ we’re not close like that ?” He sends her a look that has her resolve faltering the slightest. “You did your pregnancy announcement like a Sailor Moon transformation sequence with before and after pictures of you being pregnant, and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?” 

 Katara gasps. “I had you blocked !” 

 “Azula’s a snitch!” He also got a glimpse of the photo of Katara in her hoe time dress that barely fit over her belly with the caption: how the mighty have fallen . He pauses, sucking in a breath of air for strength. The hurt flashes in his eyes and the only thing she could think to do was wrap him up in a familiar embrace. 

 At 19, Katara is so incredibly lost, and just wants her best friend by her side. 

 He’s busy, the summer before everything Republic City. Everytime she tries their house, Azula answers, rolling her eyes while clad in a Harry Styles shirt, because it’s a girl’s rite of passage to go through a One Direction phase and wear badly made merchandise from Hot Topic. He’s usually busy packing, or fucking Mai until she sounds like a car alarm during Fourth of July fireworks. 

 “Azula, no . You cannot kidnap Mai’s younger brother and trade him in for concert tickets to send a message.” 

 “Not even for floor ones?” Katara’s glare summed up her answer. “I used to look up to you,” Azula retorts, returning to her stan Twitter.

 She waits, waits, waits. The moans keep coming and she just rolls her eyes. Her stomach churns, mainly because she thinks Mai called Zuko’s dick The Pussy Penetrator every time he hit her g spot (you know what, good for her). But also because her scholarship to the university was less than she expected, and Hakoda didn’t want to cosign on a loan. She just wanted her best friend to be there for her. 

 She feels sick, sick enough to vomit in one of Iroh’s plants, while Azula rubs small circles into her back. 

 “You should’ve swallowed,” Toph reminds, bundling Katara’s thick hair into a ponytail as the girl hurled up her California roll. She’s so exhausted, she even leans her head against the Walmart toilet bowl, five positive pregnancy tests tossed carelessly beside her. 

 “Think it’s too late for that,” Katara grits out. “What are you doing?” 

 The last thing she expected was Toph’s hands gathering together in prayer formation. “Praying to Rihanna your period comes.” 

 Like many people her age, having a mental breakdown during a pregnancy scare and praying for a miracle in a public restroom was normal. But for the first time in her life, besides the time Rihanna willingly twerked on Drake at the 2011 Grammys, Ms. Robyn Fenty herself failed her. 

 “Fetus deletus that bitch! Fuck them kids !” She brings herself eye-level to Katara’s stomach. “Read the womb, bitch!” 

 “Did you just call my unborn baby a bitch?” Katara’s eyes are bleary from the smell of vomit and her future going down the drain.

 “You should’ve kept that bitch-baby in the drafts,” Toph sweeps the stray hairs from Katara’s watery eyes. “My cousin saved up for her abortion by running a pyramid scheme. I can get you her number.”

 Katara wanted to die. “I think I’m just going to crawl in this toilet and die. Call my brother if I don’t get flushed down all the way.” 

 “Again, I’m just a Walmart employee,” Toph snickers, helping the girl up. She’s rarely left her side since then. Their friendship just works, a pair of fuckups. The girl with the accident baby, and the Walmart security guard trying to figure out her own shit after running away from home. 

 “I should’ve been there!” Zuko reminds, tone heavy with betrayal.

 Katara remembered the few moments before he boarded the plane to Republic City. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to tell him to not get on the flight, to keep holding her like he did at the entrance of the gate. She had a kiss ready on her lips that he wasn’t ready to give, backing away when their faces were too close, when she was too close. He just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with regrets.

 “I should’ve been there holding your hand, letting you call me names, and fighting nurses if they breathed too close to this precious angel,” Yue holds his pinky with her little fingers, almost as though it was a natural reaction. His heart simply seizes up at the gesture, and he holds her tighter to his body. She was wailing after waking from her nap, colic crackling her throat for the last three months and causing her middle of the night wakeups to be painful and frequent. But with Zuko, she’s all calm and perfect and polite and beautiful and angelic. 

 “Didn’t know you liked kids this much,” Katara shrugs. She leans in, and Zuko throws his free arm around her. 

 “I’ll have you know I am the resident expert in telling children’s stories,” Zuko insists. 

 “Like?” Katara quirks up her brow. 

 “Like Rumpleforeskin, the mythical man who can weave majestic golden fleece from the ends of his pubic hair.” 

 She smacks him upside the head. “You’re disgusting .” She curls in deeper into his embrace. He had that twinkle in his eye that could mean he was going to masturbate to this moment in the shower later, or he was in love. It renders her breathless every time 

 She hopes when he looks at her he doesn’t see the eye bags, or the titty milk leaking everywhere, or the permanent crease in her brow. She hopes he could still see her, underneath it all. When she was just Katara . 

 “I guess, not telling you was just my way of keeping our dream alive.” She pauses, stroking Yue’s barely there hair. “I keep thinking that one day I could find the time to go to Republic City, and I don’t know. Get a chance to just be me .” 

 “Do you regret it?” Zuko’s rubbing circles into her back until she gets sleepy and her heart feels too full. 

 “I don’t know.” She tries, quiet, almost ashamed. “I don’t know.” 

 //

 At 21, Katara feels like she’s at the top of the world. 

 Not only did she get promoted from girl wearing a dumpling costume outside handing out 15% off coupons that only worked if you left a Yelp review, to a server in a shitty dim sum restaurant, she was also accepted in the culinary program at the local university. It wasn’t Republic City per say, but Yue could attend the nearby preschool and go to the university-run childcare program afterwards while Katara was working. 

 She even got a hold of Jet, who refused to disclose his location or job. But judging by the copious child support mandated by some judge who hated men as much as Katara did, he was doing well. He sometimes Venmos Katara a few extra dollars on Yue’s birthdays. 

 Sokka and Hakoda, while hesitant to the little girl’s presence early on, spoil her absolutely rotten. When they think Katara’s passed out after her 14 hour days, they’re red in the face, screaming at Zuko over the phone about who was going to get Yue the Peppa Pig Playhouse (complete with flashing lights) she always talks about. 

 Hakoda even tries at therapy, wanting to be there for the apple of his eye. Sometimes, Katara’s hurt he never tried for her, tried in her childhood. She’s happy for him, nonetheless. 

  (Mostly) everything was working out.

 “How are both my girls doing?” Zuko would always sing-song during his nightly Facetime calls. Yue would scream and snatch the phone from Katara’s hands, delighted at the sound of her one and only Uncle Zuzu. He’s an extravagant gift giver, regularly sending Yue glittery Hello Kitty and Wonder Woman backpacks. He even buys her a whole iPad for her fourth birthday, already coming with child safe settings on and YouTube loaded with her favorites (namely, Barbie: Fairytopia ). He’s guilty he couldn’t come home, but then again, he rarely ever did. Too consumed with work, grad school applications.

 Katara can’t help but feel her heart pulse the slightest bit faster during those calls, even if she shuts it down as quickly as it comes.

  He’s so good to her . 

 She used to cherish those moments he used to tell her secrets, dreams, everything in those hours early in the morning before high school would start. With approximately 3,209 miles between the two of them, she wakes up to texts instead. 

 **

Zuko: I dreamed that I was being held at gunpoint by one of those thicc caterpillars from A Bug’s Life , and if I didn’t finish the MCAT in approximately 20 minutes, they would shoot me in the face. The dump truck ass of those ants were the bullets

Katara: Please block my number

Zuko: No. <3

**

 He’s all gentle smiles and eyes squeezing into little half moons just like Yue’s after he plays a game of Facetime patty cake and messes up on the beat just to hear the little girl laugh. 

 The next month, Zuko had decided enough was enough . He missed his girl. 

 His hospital, for the first time in a year, was letting him have the weekend off. So he books Katara a ticket straight away, because he thinks he’s going to die if he has to be around people who don’t know who Megan Thee Stallion is. 

 “Boys only speak two languages. English and emotional manipulation,” Toph reprimands, hugging Katara so tight she could barely get in a word. “Please remember that.” 

 It was her first time leaving her hometown in her life, her first time on an airplane for God’s sake. She’s jittery though, the cushioned seats Toph somehow upgraded her ticket to (after covertly whispering with the gate attendant) doing nothing to alleviate her nerves. 

 When she jumps in his arms in baggage claim, he breathes in deep. Her hugs have always warmed his insides, and he didn’t realize how much he craved it until he was greedy, pressing into her and refusing to let go despite her many protests.

 “Come here often?” he mumbles, smiling into her shoulder. 

 Her cheeks grew hot at his touch. “Occasionally.” She whispers back. 

 He decided there and then in front of Gate 3 they needed to make up for lost time as quickly as possible. 

 The college party is entirely too sticky, entirely too messy for a proper (extremely) late 21st birthday celebration. Her crop top and big earrings and glittery eyeshadow and endless curves has Zuko wondering how much he’s missed in the last few years. When she hugs him close to her and screams out Nicki Minaj lyrics, he doesn’t remember her being so soft and even prettier. Beautiful. Breathtaking, knocking the wind out his lungs if she as so much blinked. 

 She looks like any 21 year old, without a care in the world, just figuring out their life. He wonders what this version of Zuko and Katara was. 

 Maybe they got to go to Republic City together. Maybe they work in the same building, and are just letting steam off from work. Maybe they loved each other. It was dangerous though. He feels as though she’s caging him in, that grip on his heart sparking up again without his permission. Her fake lashes he saw her glue on in the airport bathroom flutter about, hands coming up to accentuate her words every time she tries to scream something in his ear over the pulsating music. He just grips her waist harder between his hands, holding her tight.

 //

 In a perfect world, all she saw was him. She wishes it was him. She sometimes thinks she sees Zuko’s eyes in Yue. She sees his smile. She sees his heart. 

 While they’d spent the entire night stumbling through the city, his girlfriend was home. Barefoot, pregnant. Looking like the cover of some women’s lifestyle magazine, stray curls escaping her bun to frame her face in all its angelic glory. Glowy and flawless and every bit beautiful. Different from the girl Katara caught crying in the kitchen.  “You can hate me all you want, you can talk shit about me all you want. But I love him,” Jin insists. “I’m his girlfriend , for fuck’s sake. 

 Katara has to stop herself from recoiling. She had a specific vision of their future. One that included doing taxes together and matching sweaters and teaching him her new macaroon recipe and Yue balanced on his lap. 

 But one look at Jin, and it becomes glaringly obvious how little she fit in with his new life. 

 “I don’t hate you, Jin.” It’s every bit sincere, but the girl doesn’t look convinced. 

 Jin rolls her eyes. A pointed look freezing Katara in her place.

 “Ok, I might’ve complained once or twice about your VSCO filter choice.” 

 “Yeah, Zuko sent a screenshot of your texts to me instead of you by accident.” 

 “God, you know he always fucking does that? To be fair though, M05 is too orange and is not a good look on anyone. You can do better, I know you can.” The two girls laugh. It was devoid of any genuine emotion, just meant as an attempt to fill the empty space between them. “If I had known. Fuck, if I had just known, I’m sorry, Jin.” She had no idea Zuko had a kid on the way, that they were still living together and determined to co-parent while their relationship was in a weird limbo. If she was Jin, she would’ve kicked someone’s pussy and made a scene and set something on fire. But Jin wasn’t that type of girl. Jin was soft and pretty and looked like she smelled like an interior designer's perfectly bleached asshole. 

 “Do you love him?” Jin seemed to shrink into herself, small enough Katara might miss her in a blink of an eye. 

 Katara couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind the question. She thinks she’s too scared to. 

 Katara doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t trust herself to speak. This Zuko wasn’t the Zuko she knew. She loved the Zuko who would steal people’s Netflix passwords off of 4chan, and cosplay as Todoroki at Anime Con to make a few bucks. Not the one who can afford sky rises in the big city. 

 He didn’t even tell her that his big internship in the city was for his father’s hospital, and he was next in line to running it. “You’re a lawyer with health insurance and your own Netflix account! You’re good for him, Jin.” Katara falters the slightest. “I just want to see Zuko happy.” 

 “Me too.” Jin says quietly.

 “Whatever, fuck Zuko !” She tries at extending the olive branch.  “I can’t believe you’re preggers!” She puts a gentle hand on Jin's belly, and her vagina immediately winces. “You know, your vag will never look the same, and you might grow a third boob in your armpit.” 

 “You’re lying .” 

 “Yeah, a lump of breast milk can form there, too!” Katara is about to scroll to the photo in her phone when Jin laughter breaks through the night. 

 //

 “I hope your dick gets bitten off mid-blowjob!” She whisper-screams, struggling with her suitcase until it smacks all at nearly every corner and edge. She was just making noise for the sake of making noise, but it made her feel better. 

 He didn’t expect waking up to a charge on his card for a flight booked in the last ten minutes, or Katara shoving his good mixer in her suitcase. 

 “You hate it don’t you?” He always loved it when Katara went into Hulk mode anytime a bully dared test her protective nature. While it was never entirely directed at him, he now understands exactly why Chan peed his pants. Katara was terrifying . 

 “What?” Zuko’s confused, rubbing an eye booger away. 

 “You loved it when I’m crying over Jet, crying over something, fucking something up in my life. Being mad at the world. You hate that I’m better, and making something of myself now!” She’s angry and grasping at straws. 

 Zuko furrows his brows, not sure where to progress from here. “Ok, run that by me again?” 

 The air vanishes when her stare cools over to absolutely icy.  “There’s nothing else I can give. So what the fuck do you want from me?” 

 He laughs, all hollow and almost mocking . “You know, I was afraid of you coming here.” He lies.  

 She stops in her tracks. “What the hell do you mean?” 

 “I thought...I thought you wouldn’t get this new me, because it’s different!” He protests. “See, this is exactly the reason why! You’re mad I can afford real Gucci !” 

 Katara recoils, looking embarrassed for him. God, were men so fucking stupid, and so proud of it, too. “Are you fucking serious.” 

 Zuko’s frustrated, running his hands through his hair. “What the fuck are we doing, Katara?” 

 “You tell me!” She demands. “I’m not that kind of girl, Zuko! I’m not that kind of girl that is going to break up a fucking engagement, or whatever the fuck you weirdos are doing!” 

 He throws up his hands. “I’m not happy! We’re not happy.” 

 “What? You think now that you’ve sold your soul to your piece of shit dad and you can buy jewelry that won’t turn your fingers green that I’m going to fuck you?” 

 “No! I’m not saying that—”

 Katara scoffs. “Then what the fuck are you saying? Grow up, Zuko. Grow the fuck up and just leave me the fuck alone .” 

 “You’re still Katara.” He throws his hands up in the air, trying to stop her. Even if he felt like his entire world was falling apart, there was one thing he would always be certain about. “I’m still Zuko. The same Zuko who loves you .” 

 Katara turns her head, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “The thing is, this isn’t you, Zuko.” Katara says with finality. “It isn’t you .” 

 When she gets home, she spots it right away. On their dining table, white paper folded neatly,  Yue was the type of little girl who looked to both sides of the street before crossing, repeating it  two more times to be safe. She always took extra care to make everything even, never a wrinkle in sight on her homework. 

 The Crayola family portrait that brought to life everything she’d imagined and more. Katara doesn’t have the heart to look for longer than a second. 

 //

 At 27, Katara’s pretending that it’s the happiest day of her life. 

 She didn’t think he would listen to her, you know, men rarely did anything right. Zuko, though, heeds her warning and only calls exactly two hours before Yue’s bedtime like clockwork. There weren’t any surprise texts to wake up to anymore, no more evidence of Zuko in her life. She doesn’t even find out about Jin’s affair with one of those Axe commercial guys until months later. 

 When she goes to unblock his number and text him, to try and talk to him, she gasps. She sees those grey iMessage bubbles, and she’s ashamed her heart splutters, awakening a feeling she thought she’s dampened. She puts her phone down for milliseconds, before checking it again and again and again. She finally threw the damn thing across the room when a week passed. 

 She thinks it’s for the better, especially when she was sure she finally got things right with Jet. 

 “ We’ll make this shit work together.” Jet reassures, gathering her close to him she could see every little detail of him. “Like Kanye said, ‘you’re a MILF, and I’m a mother-fucker.” 

 She covers her ears, pushing him into the restaurant’s glass door. “No thank you. No more non consensual reciting of Kanye verses.” 

 “Yeezy, breezy, beautiful, baby. Get into it.” Jet winks, and Katara feels herself gagging again.

 Then again, Katara always had a thing for stupid. And for three easy payments of $Penis.99, he had an all access experience to her pussy and her trauma. 

 “And he bought me those carrot cake cupcakes I always look at when we go to the supermarket but I never want to chance it because it could have raisins instead of nuts and I think I hate raisins more than I hate white men named Nathaniel.” 

 Toph jabs Katara in the forehead. “Wow, he spared $5 on some dry pastries, and your pussy was suddenly screaming pick me, pick me !” 

 “They were gluten free, too,” she points out. “Plus, my pussy doesn’t scream!” 

 “Oh right, my bad! It whispers!” 

 “ Toph !” 

 “Last night I heard it go wash me! Wash me!” 

 It felt good with him, though. It felt good to see him help Yue with math homework, making dinner in their little kitchen, pressing kisses to her in the morning despite her breath smelling like Khloe Kardashian’s earring backing pussy. Someone to come home to. 

 “Piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you!” She was punching him over and over again until her knuckles were ripped raw, sitting straight on his throat. Beating him stupid in the middle of her shift. He thought he could get away with it. With Katara now stuck in the kitchen as one of the head cooks, and the fact he had a reservation in one of the private rooms for him and his secretary to go over...numbers, he didn’t think much of it. 

 Too bad Toph was too invested, and had a friends-to-lovers storyline to live vicariously through. 

 “Scram, fuglies!” Toph screamed to other customers who had already started chanting “WorldStar!” 

 Katara lost her job, lost her mans, lost a section of her eyebrow because Toph accidentally tried helping and swung the wrong direction. 

  “Catch me outside, how ‘bout that!” She yelps triumphantly, despite the fact Katara was cradling her own bloodied face. 

 And here she was, about to lose her best friend, too. 

 She accidentally Facetimed his old number, and spent the last hour mulling over her feelings with an executive of a porn studio who picked up mid-shoot. “Just tell him you love him!” The balding man is exhausted.

 “What do I even say? Do I tell him, ‘I think I’ve always loved you?’ Is that too cheesy? You know that feeling when your heart just—Oh my fucking god! Is that Sandy Cheeks from Spongebob ?!” She screams, slamming her hands over her eyes. The squirrel’s melons-for-tits would never be erased from her memory.

 He only has fear in his eyes when he looks at her. “You didn’t see anything.” Robert bites out, promptly hanging up. 

 In her post-Jet purge, she realized she wasn’t the type of ex dead set on destroying his things. After all, she was selling his light-up keyboard to pay for Toph’s birthday boob job. Her residual anger was instead, spent hacking away at the drawer he always kept locked. Until she found it.  

 A letter from him. 

 “ I’ve always been afraid that our friendship would’ve spilled over until all I could do is categorize it with four simple letters .” Katara whispers, eyes frantically scanning the paper. “And I’m done being afraid .” 

 “The four letters he’s talking about is D-U-M-B  B-I-C-T-H . Dumb bitch. The ‘bitch’ is silent.” Toph insists. “I can’t believe you let a balding bum, whose credit score tanked because he invested his entire savings in Shake Weight Milkshake making machines, knock you up instead of Zuko.” 

 “It was innovative at the time,” she whispers. 

 “Fill the void in your heart, not your pussy.”

 She's whipping out her shitty MacBook Air, and praying his email still worked. But when she calls all she sees is her.

 “You told me to come to Republic City and find him!” Mai exclaims, holding up her hand where a big ring blinding the fuck out of her. 

 She feels her heart crumble at the same time she crushes the letter in her hand. 

 “I did do that, didn’t I?” Katara winces. The time the model stopped by in their hometown, Katara was still happy and getting her pussy pounded regularly and let that shit get to her head. She thought it would be a blessing in disguise, and wanted to help Zuko out, too. 

 "Fuck." 

 //

 Their wedding looked ripped out of a 2014 Basic Bitch Pinterest board, and she’s definitely sure she couldn’t be happier. 

 “Why is her name spelled like ‘Mai’ and pronounced ‘May?’ Like, shouldn’t it be spelled like ‘Mei?’” 

 “Katara, you’re just being a bitch,” Toph reminds while Katara stares at the sign with their wedding hashtag in front of the photobooth with all the ��YOLO’ signs and 2013 mustaches.

 “I am well aware!” She asserts, chin jutting out. 

 Mai’s New York Fashion Week ready body was gorgeous, perfect in Zuko’s hold. 

 Katara wished life was like a rom-com. Where she could burst through the doors, declare her love, piss on him in her ugly, big bridesmaid dress and mark her territory once and for all. 

 But life wasn’t a movie. Life was just this shitty piece of dumpster fire shit and was always fucking her over like the Target self-checkout line camera. 

 What could she do? Deliver some long-winded speech about how she would go to realign the stars in the heavens if it meant a chance to rewrite their fate? That she hoped she visits his dreams before his mind could settle into reality, the same way he visited hers and overstayed his welcome every single time? Make everyone uncomfortable and wonder if they boned? 

 Then again, she was never going to be the one to block her best friend’s blessings. Not on the happiest day of his life.

 “I think this is the happiest day of my life.” Katara says seamlessly. 

 Zuko sees it though, sees right through her and has to stop himself from reaching out to her. 

 “It wasn’t ever easy being Zuko’s best friend. I mean look at him now, getting married to someone perfect . He’s not even in the same ballpark, league, or hell, stadium porta potty as her!” 

 Zuko ducks his head with a brief pout that breaks Katara’s heart. Everyone laughs in spite of him, until he joins in, too. “You know, it’s easy to pretend that finding love is easy. You could find love in all the little things in your life. All the people, all the details. It’s easy to say you always, completely, truly love someone. Because that’s what we want love to be, right? At the surface, sure.” She folds the flimsy paper she had on hand, nothing was written on it anyways. “You want it to be perfect.” 

 “But the love everyone works so hard to get, is the love that’s hard . It’s the love that isn’t safe. The love that challenges, excites you, the love that will never have limits. The love that’s messy and beautiful all at the same time.” She looks at him, truly looks at him for the first time in years and all she could do was smile. 

 “It’s easy to find love, but it’s near impossible to find a soulmate.” She raises her glass. “Join me in a toast to the bride and groom. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” 

 And while everyone is gathered out on the dance floor, she’s sobbing pathetically and smearing the winged eyeliner she worked so hard to perfect on the car ride there. Trying to stop any of the pain from consuming her. 

 She’s out on the rooftop of the venue, the cold air whipping her face as she tries lighting up a blunt. 

 “Are you getting high at my wedding !” Zuko is incredulous, and shocks Katara enough to drop the joint off the roof. 

 “On all things Fenty Beauty, bitch what the fuck?” Katara wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes. 

 “The flower girl wanted to see her mommy.” But Katara sees right through Yue’s little act. Pretending to sleep so she could be held by Zuko (me too, girl. Me too). 

 It felt dangerous, the way she could toy with his heart, his own personal defibrillator shocking it back to life. She’s pretty even with red-rimmed eyes, with the fake smiles he knew was trying to appease him to leave her alone. If anything, all it does is make him want to kiss her until her troubles are gone. 

 He wanted to do a lot of things at that moment. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin, tell her that above all else, he missed his girl the most. But, he had everything on his plate and then some. 

 “The chicken was dry as fuck.” He blurts, wiping the sweat from his face. Only Katara could send him back a few decades. “I wish you could’ve catered it.” 

 “Yeah?” She laughs and wants to call him out for stalking her company’s Facebook page. “Remember you tried my new recipe and you vomited all over the front row at your fourth ever Hello Zuko performance?” She misses his messy hair, when he didn’t look so clean cut and rich bitchy. 

 “I didn’t know you weren’t done cooking it!” 

 She shoves his head, and he joins her, dangling his feet precariously off the roof. 

 When she’s here with him, when he has her in his hold for the first time in years, he sees his whole life with just a glimpse in her eyes. And all he wants to do is build a machine and reverse all the time that’s passed them by. 

 “I made a mistake.” Zuko breathes out, eyes nervously darting around. 

 As sure as he was that Nicki Minaj deserved a Grammy, he was sure he loved her. 

 “W-What?” Katara blinks at him. 

 “I made a mistake, Katara.” He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, carding his hand through his hair. Looking every bit devastatingly handsome. “I realized something. After the speech, after just, everything.” 

 “I realized I just can’t have my cake and eat it, too.” 

 Just like that, just with the way he built her up, it comes tumbling down. 

 “So what are you saying?” Her heart was on the verge of cracking in half and he didn’t even know it. Because all he could pin her with a look she couldn’t read, and she thinks if he was a smarter man he would’ve at least pretended that it hurt him to hurt her. 

 But it did. 

 It broke him, ripped him in half to see her face turn to steel right before his eyes. 

 “What I’m saying is, after all these years.” He doesn’t have it in him to face her. “I think I have to finally let you go, Katara.” 

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide: First Voyage (Ch.1)

Pairing: Eventual Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Eventual Smut and Fluff mixed in

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relarionship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag

Summary: Hongjoong is the leader of a notorious pirate crew. A run in with a demon leaves him with immortality and the ability to grant immortal life to those who form pacts with him. One day, a member of his crew angers a sea witch, and she decides to exact revenge on them by casting Hongjoong into a completely different part of the world and stealing his memories. The seven key members of his crew spend centuries looking for him, to no avail, and meet up in modern day Seoul to try and strategize how they can find their leader. Discouraged, with some close to giving up, they happen upon a man with a familiar smile and voice speaking on the street one day about a Long Journey. Now the seven of them must get Hongjoong to rember who he is before he slips through their fingers once again.

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← Last Voyage   Next Voyage →

=Age 10=

“What in the blazes is that?”

He flinched, flailing his legs as he tried to get down from the man holding onto him by the back of his shirt. That earned him a sharp jab to his ribs, making him cough and sputter as he lowered his head, fear pulsing through his body. 

“He was hidden between some barrels in the hold, Captain. It looks like he was one of the port hands in the last town and he stowed away when no one was looking.” 

The figure across from him clicked their tongue, and he cowered as the sound of leather boots approached him, the wood of the deck creaking loud with every step. 

“Stowed away on my ship? Do you have a death wish, lad?” a voice growled at him and a hand reached out, lifting his face abruptly so he could look the Captain in their eyes. 

“A…woman…?”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed dangerously, one hand going to the blunderbuss pistol strapped to her thigh before she pressed it to the center of his head, lip curling up in dissatisfaction. 

“Aye, and you’re about to be at the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker, rat.” She hissed. He trembled, unable to move his head away from the firearm pressed against it. Panicked, his eyes looked around, finding other members of the crew were also women, some with shorter, choppier haircuts. Some of them sent him sympathetic looks, but none of them made any moves to stop their Captain. 

“I hope you’ve made peace with your family and your maker, lad. I don’t take kindly to people sneaking aboard my ship.”

“I d-don’t have a family…s-sir.” He quickly admitted, having a momentary battle on what to call the angered Captain. The finger that she had on the safety of the blunderbuss paused, and she put a hand on her hip, arching a brow at him. 

“I’m an orphan. I worked at port on the docks for as long as I can remember…I just wanted to see the world and do something more than be a poor orphan on the street, C-captain. P-please…please take me with you, I promise I’ll be useful!” He pleaded, brown eyes holding a flicker of hope and determination. The Captain’s brows went up in surprise, a small laugh leaving her throat. 

“Do you know what you’re saying? Me? Bring a child along? You wouldn’t last-”

“I’ll prove it to you! If I can make myself useful and survive, you make me a member of your crew!” 

The captain rolled her eyes and lowered the blunderbuss, putting it back in its holster and nodding for the man behind him to drop the child. He fell to the deck harder than expected, groaning in pain before looking up, looking at the Captain’s outstretched hand. 

“My name is Captain Jihyo. When we’re in port, you only call me Captain Hyo. If it gets out there are women aboard my ship, or that I’m a woman, our entire crew will be executed. Do you understand?” She snapped. The child grabbed her hand and nodded, pulling himself up with her help before he looked up, determination shining in his eyes. 

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. And I swear on my mother’s resting spirit, I’ll be a fine member of this crew.”

=Age 15=

“Must you always get yourself in trouble?” Jihyo grunted, dragging Hongjoong back into the tavern by his ear. He hissed, frowning as he looked up at his Captain. The woman had taken a liking to him in their years together and has quickly become a mother-like figure to him. 

Which…would explain the stern look and smack upside his head he received when Jihyo had pulled him into the room he was to stay in. 

“I told you not to go outside. I know this town well, I knew you’d pull this again-”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Captain! He was harassing that lass on the street, she clearly didn’t want any of his attention, so I…’helped out’.” He coughed at the end of his sentence, avoiding Jihyo’s sharp gaze. She stared at him for a long time before she sent him a smile, pressing their heads together and lowering her voice as she spoke. 

“I appreciate your respect for others, especially women, lad. But you still have to tread carefully. The last thing we need is a brawl breaking out because you’re on your justice kick.” She gently scolded, ruffling his hair before moving away from him. 

“You are a pirate. I would imagine you’d earn yourself a rather..unique name if you continued being so nice.” She waved her finger at him, heading towards the door. Hongjoong rolled his eyes half heartedly, but smiled nonetheless.

“If they remember me for being more than ‘just another pirate’, I’ll take it as a compliment.” He grinned before diving onto his bed, smiling contently. 

=Age 19=

“There are some odd jobs we can do while in port.” Jihyo informed them, standing at the ship’s bow with her arms crossed. She had already cut her hair before they neared the port, her eyes set on the approaching docs as they approached. Hongjoong was at her side, along with her First Mate, a quirky gentleman named Daniel.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to see you, Captain. This is your port town, afterall.” He teased. Jihyo hummed, tilting her chin up as they docked. The town was welcoming of pirates, but she still made sure to change their flag to the country’s colors, just as a precaution in the event of any naval officers also being in town. 

“We’ll be staying here for a few weeks, stock up and make sure not to do anything stupid.” She ordered as they lowered the anchor, sending Hongjoong a sharp look as he tried to tip toe out of her sight. 

“That means you, Mr. Kim Hongjoong.” 

“I have no idea what you mean, Captain Park Hyo.” 

Jihyo rolled her eyes and smiled, nodding for him and the rest of the crew to disperse and enjoy traveling in the port town. She and Daniel stayed behind. They watched the people mingling in the port with small, calm looks on their faces. 

The silence was broken by Jihyo’s coughing, her brows pulling up as she hacked violently. Daniel frowned, pulling her out of the view of the curious port hands before sitting her on the ship’s deck. Worry creased his brow as she continued coughing for a few minutes before letting out a shaky sound, sighing. 

“Captain-”

“Don’t say it.”

“Jihyo. You can’t keep pretending this isn’t getting worse.” He told her sternly, holding her shoulders. She looked up at him, her lips trembling before she shook her head, brushing her hands off on her trousers before she stood. 

“I know. That’s why we’re here. I heard a tip from the last town that we’d be able to find something here to prolong this…just bare with me.” She told him before she squared her shoulders, pulling her hat down to slightly obscure her eyes as she headed down towards the docks. Daniel sighed and nodded, following faithfully behind her. 

=3 Nights Later=

Jihyo smiled as their Quartermaster, Psy, poured her another glass of rum. They all drank merrily together, eating the meat and rice served at the tavern. 

Well, most of them.

Hongjoong sat at the end of the table, nursing a glass of water as he looked over some of the maps their Sailing Masters had gotten a hold of while in town. He surveyed the pages, muttering to himself about potential treasure. Jihyo glanced at him before smiling, taking another hearty swig. 

The sound of their merriment was interrupted by the door to the tavern being opened abruptly, a group of men dragging in bloodied figures. The tavern owner jolted from her spot behind the bar, eyes going wide as the men dropped their wounded on the taven floor. 

“What in the hell are you doing?! You’re going to ruin my floors!” She barked in disapproval, slamming down a mug on the bar, ignoring the way the brew inside sloshed out and spilled onto the counter. 

“Bite your tongue, woman! Can’t you see they’re bleeding out?!” One barked. The woman behind the counter, Momo, raising her brows in surprise at the rude tone. She grabbed a knife from her garterbelt beneath her skirt, stabbing the bar as she looked at them with an unamused expression.

“I don’t like your tone.”

“W-we’re sorry, Miss! Please, let us stay just a little longer! We’ll pay for any damages and all the rounds will be on us tonight!” One of the men quickly tried to remedy the escalating situation. The pirates and other patrons in the tavern cheered, going back to their own devices, while the other wounded men sent him a glare. 

“What? We have to decide what to do and we can’t leave them on the street!” He snapped. A blonde in their group shook his head. 

“I told you dense bastards, we shouldn’t have gone near that cove. Did you see what that wench did to John and Terry?!” He barked. The other three men looked down, clearly terrified as the two they’d brought in coughed weakly on the floor, the focus fading from their eyes. 

Hongjoong bit his lip, moving to pull his seat out when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned back to the table to find Jihyo had moved from her spot, now taking her place beside him. She sent him a firm glare, clearly having sobered up from the shock of the bloodied men. 

“Don’t you dare.” she growled, her voice lowered to mimic a man’s flawlessly.  Hongjoong shrunk down in his seat, mumbling. 

“I wasn’t-”

“Ay, was I born yesterday, lad? I know that look in your eyes. You’re troublesome need to help people all the time. Don’t you dare go to that cove. I don’t want to leave this port town knowing my son-” she paused. Hongjoong’s lips parted in shock and Jihyo cleared her throat, raising her voice to Momo.

“Momo! Another round of rum! Gimme the strongest you got!” She huffed, pivoting on her heel, leaving Hongjoong stunned in his chair. Jihyo sat down heavily in her original seat, avoiding eye contact with the teen as Daniel chuckled from beside her. 

Hongjoong felt his heart racing, his mind whirring as he ran the word through his head over and over again. 

Son…

A fond smile came to his face, and he momentarily forgot about the men behind him. Until a wary laugh came from the left. 

“At least we left that wench bleeding out. Tomorrow we’ll blast the damn cove shut. Send her straight to hell where her kind belongs.” He spat. The other men didn’t laugh along with him, but they seemed to be relieved that whatever it was that injured their own was in pain and soon to be trapped in the cove. 

Hongjoong’s gaze drifted back to the maps in front of him.

He can’t focus. 

=Midnight=

Hongjoong carefully removed his boots as he approached the cove, knowing he’d have to wade through knee-deep sea water in order to get inside. He rolled his trouser pants up, tucking his shirt into the waistband of them before he began his careful approach. There was a lantern in his hand, and he had to keep it high above his head to keep it from going out. 

When he reached the mouth of the cove, he bit his lip, looking from left to right. He didn’t see anything initially, so he steeled himself and pushed deeper, his feet lightly slapping against the wet stones of the cove. 

Then he heard it. The low, pained hiss. 

“G e t o u t.” 

“H-Hold, I’m not here to harm you, I only want to help-”

“Get. Out.”

Hongjoong bit back the urge to turn tail and run, turning to the sound of the voice, lifting the lantern. He saw a puddle of blood, his stomach churning as the light rose until he saw a raised stone, seeing a woman staring at him, her face and hands smeared in blood. Her hair fell in front of her face, her lip curled up into a snarl as she looked at him through the ink-colored locks. 

“You need help, you’re injured-”

“G E T O U T!” she screamed, and he was knocked off his feet in a harsh gust of wind. His lantern smashed to the ground, plunging the cove in darkness, with only the moonlight in the mouth to light anything. 

Hongjoong groaned, hissing when he felt the glass from the lantern cut into his palm as he pushed himself up. 

“L-lass, I don’t know what they’ve done to you or why, but I can’t leave you here hurt like this. Please, they won’t leave you alone. Those sailors intend on blowing this cove shut and leaving you here. You’ll die!” He pleaded into the darkness. There was a laugh, low and humorless.

Suddenly, lights appeared in the cove, in the form of balls of fire, each hovering in mid air around the woman. She stayed where she was, reviewing the brunette pirate with mild interest, though there was still pain in her features. 

“You…you must be a fool. Do you not know why they came? Do you know nothing of me?”

Hongjoong ignored the pain of his palm and shook his head, standing to his feet once more as he carefully approached her. He raised both of his hands when the woman’s eyes narrowed at him. 

“I am not from this port town. I am a pirate, we’ve only settled in port days ago. My name is Kim Hongjoong. Who are you, lass?” 

“I am Hyuna of Tortuga Bay. I am a demon.Those insolent fools came to take the ‘treasure’ of this cove, as fools tend to do. However-” She hissed, groaning as he breathing turned ragged again. She allowed Hongjoong to approach her closer, her hands twitching as he stopped in front of her. 

He looked at her face, hesitantly moving her sweat and blood-slick bangs out of her face. She was a beautiful woman with a porcelain complexion under the blood caked to her face. At this point, Hongjoong wasn’t sure if it was hers, or the blood of the sailor’s. 

“They said they left you wounded-” He stopped himself when he noticed the culprit of her agony. 

The glinting gold crucifix stabbed straight through her chest. His eyes grew, and he noticed the burns around the entrance of the wound and around her fingers, as if she had tried desperately tried to pull it out herself. 

“I…I can take it out.” He said suddenly, eyes transfixed on the crucifix. She stared at him carefully, a small glimmer of hope in her light eyes. The flames that illuminated the cove grew closer, and she looked up at him in interest. 

“You…said you were a pirate, correct? Why are you helping me? You know nothing of who I am and nothing of the rumored treasure, and yet you come to my aid? You could leave now. I can’t die, I’d be just like this for all eternity and you can take my treasure. Why are you trying to help me?” She inquired. Hongjoong shrugged one shoulder, running his uninjured hand through his bangs. 

“I don’t like seeing people being ganged up on. I won’t stand for men doing this to a woman, no matter what the reason.” He told her flatly, meeting her cautious gaze. 

“You can say my…my mother raised me well. I may be a pirate, but I was still raised with respect. Besides, if the puddle of blood I’m standing in is anything to go by, I probably wouldn’t make it out of the cove before you ended me if you wanted to, injured or not. Now…do you want me to take this out?” he questioned once more. 

Hyuna stared at him for a long moment before she closed her eyes, nodding. 

“This may hurt. I’m sorry.” He whispered, wrapping his fingers around the golden base. Hyuna’s brows twitched in pain and he could hear the sound of burning, so he yanked with all of his strength, pulling the crucifix out in one go. 

There was an unholy scream and Hongjoong dropped the crucifix in an instant, clamping his hands over his ears. The floating flames went out and Hongjoong frowned, trying to feel around in the darkness. 

“Lass? Hyuna? A-are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He called into the inky blackness. There was the sound of a giggle, gentle and feminine before the whole cove was illuminated. He looked up in awe, watching as the light illuminated from Hyuna’s body, different from the small, whisp-like plumes of fire from before. 

“I…I am free again.” She exhaled, holding her hand in front of her face, smiling wide as the burns healed themselves. Hongjoong watched the hole in her chest close and let out a relieved smile. 

“Good. You may want to leave, though. Those sailors intend on coming back tomorrow to blast the entrance closed.” He reminded her, moving to dust his hands off on his pants, but stopping when he remembered the blood running from his palm. 

“You…are unlike any man I have met in this realm. Come, since you’ve freed me, it’s only fair I give you a gift in return, yes?” She hummed, looking down at his hand. 

“You don’t have to-”

“You didn’t have to come here, Kim Hongjoong, the pirate.” She countered. He snapped his mouth shut, nodding in defeat. She did have a point. 

“I will give you the treasure many have come to this cove for. Eternal life, youth, and power beyond your wildest dreams.” She wiped at the blood on her cheek, reaching for his hand to lace their fingers together. 

Hongjoong felt a pulse course through him, and his eyes widened as his heartbeat increased. 

“What-”

“Kim Hongjoong, I will give you power. You will be like me, a demon. Upon forming blood pacts, you will also make those under you immortals. If the pact is strong, you will share your powers. Accept my gift, for I know you will use it well.” She muttered, her eyes glowing bright blue. Hongjoong gasped, feeling like his body was on fire, energy coursing through his veins. 

“HONGJOONG! GET AWAY FROM MY SON!” a voice caught Hyuna’s attention as a pirate ran full speed at her. She hummed and lifted her hand, a gust of wind lifting the woman effortlessly. She shook her head, sending a fond smile to her. 

“Ah, the mother he mentioned? I never imagined his mother would be a pirate disguising herself as a man. It makes sense, why he’s so unique.” she hummed before looking down at Hongjoong, noticing the faraway look in his eyes, his brow twitching in confusion. 

“What are you doing to him?! Let him go! Hongjoong! Hongjoong!!” Jihyo screamed, thrashing fruitlessly against the wind. Hyuna smiled in fond understanding and shook her head. 

“He has received my gift. He is immortal. Now, he must control his powers. Things tend to get…wild on the first night of the full moon after one becomes a demon. Now sit still. I will help him harness his powers here and now so that your crew won’t be ripped to shreds on the next full moon.” She instructed, watching as Hongjoong’s eyes went from brown to an electric blue, the overabundance of power coursing through him making small spider-web red veins appear on his face. 

His gaze snapped to Hyuna and she rolled her neck. 

“You and your demonic self must become one. Come, I will train you. Though I suggest we hurry, lest your mother have another child over there.” She informed, nodding at Jihyo’s direction. Hongjoong let out a low sound before darting to her full speed, a large blast of water shooting past him. 

Hyuna side stepped and smiled, watching Hongjoong’s face change, three marks appearing on his forehead, along with a bushy white tail. Fireballs rained down on her, all of which she knocked away without batting a lash. 

“Water, even my kitsune powers have went to you? Fascinating. More, show me more, Hongjoong.” She urged, skipping backwards as the ground beneath her feet shook. 

=3 Hours Later=

Hongjoong finally fell to his knees, panting as his eyes returned to their normal, welcoming brown color. Hyuna flicked her hand, bringing Jihyo closer to them, ignoring the way she immediately pulled her blunderbuss on her. 

“Hongjoong….” She trailed off, frowning as he passed out shortly after. 

“You…”

“I care not for your personal feelings, but I will explain myself. You are from this town, so you know of me. The ‘treasure’ of this cove is me. My blessing. My immortality. Men find out about demons that can grant them eternal youth and they hunt them down. I have killed most who have ventured here, and had you not have raised him the way you did, your son would have joined. But he is different. I can give him my ‘treasure’ with confidence that he wont abuse it and create a crew of immortal vagabonds. The powers are a little extra gift.” She winked and moved to walk past them. Jihyo watched her every move before she started coughing once more, brows pinched up as she observed the blood in her palm. 

“N-No…”

Hyuna stopped at her side, looking down at her in interest before she straightened her back, turning towards the mouth of the cove. 

“I suggest you form a pact with him. You don’t have much left, otherwise, pirate.” She informed her before she disappeared in a dazzling light. 

Jihyo wiped her mouth and grabbed Hongjoong’s arm, dragging him back out of the cove, sighing.

—-

“Captain, don’t you want Hongjoong to be here for this?” Psy inquired, pushing his glasses up as Jihyo gathered all of the crew-sans Hongjoong-on the deck of her ship. 

“No. I have something important to ask of all of you.” She told them, her voice solemn. They all perked, nodding as they watched her carefully. 

“My health…is dwindling. I doubt at this stage there is anything I can do. I know Psy and Daniel have no desire to be Captain when I’m gone, and that most of you have found Hongjoong to be reliable enough for the job. I have one order I want you all to take to the graves with you.” She told them, taking her hat off to rub her head before she set it back on. 

“Hongjoong was…he’s received a ‘gift’ and he’s not human anymore. The lad somehow impressed a demoness and she turned him into one of her own. He apparently can give this immortality to others,”

“Wait, so why won’t you just-”

“Because I refuse to take advantage of him. I want my son to give his powers to those he trusts wholeheartedly on his own, not have ties to us out of an obligation for us taking him in.” 

They all began protesting at once, but Jihyo slammed her heel against the deck, glaring at them all. 

“My orders, are for you to not accept any offers of immortality from Hongjoong. Even when he becomes captain. I am here now, and I’m giving the order here and now. Swear to me you won’t betray me. This is a dying woman’s wish.” she told them, leaving no room for argument. 

They all exchanged looks before small, reluctant smiles crossed their faces. One by one they all swore, patting their captain on the shoulder as they filtered back down to their quarters. Daniel and Psy stayed by her side, watching the waves of the ocean in silence as tears ran down her cheeks.—-

=x=

“Please!”

“No.”

“WHY?!” 

Jihyo sighed and looked up at Hongjoong from her bed, her face pale. Daniel was at her side, holding her hand as she coughed weakly. Her condition had gotten worse at an alarming rate and it became impossible for her to hide it. 

“P-Please…Please, I can save you. Please, why won’t you-”

“I said no, Hongjoong. Let me go. Let me rest. You’ll be a fine captain.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head, his chest heaving. 

“Daniel! You can’t be okay with this! You love her! Tell her to let me help! Tell her to-”

“It’s already been decided.” Daniel cut him off, raising his head to look at him with bloodshot eyes. Hongjoong bit his lip, looking down with tears rolling down his cheeks. He shuffled to her other side, his shaking hand taking hers as he looked at her face. 

“Captain…M…Mom…please…”

“Just stay with me, Hongjoong. Stay with me and keep a smile on your face. You’re a different breed of pirate. I want you to make your own crew and change what it means to be a pirate for the world, okay? Until the last wind blows through these sails, please never stop being the center of the world.” She told him, reaching under her blankets to pass him a compass. 

“Let it always point you forward, my son.” She mused, cupping his cheek, crying with him as they continued sailing, the boat gently rocking the trio. 

= ~ =

The crew shed tears as Daniel set the last stone on top of the pile. Underneath, buried deep in the sand, laid the peaceful body of their captain. 

She had asked to be stripped of all materialistic items, jewels, gold, silver, and buried in the sand of an island she visited when she became a pirate. 

Remote, quiet, with the beautiful scent of island flora beckoning you in deeper. 

One by one, each crew member dropped a bloom on top of the stones, before heading back to the ship. Hongjoong lingered, the bloom in his trembling hand before he sighed and finally relented, setting it down on top of the pile. 

“Goodnight, Captain Jihyo…Sweet dreams, mother.” He whispered, turning and heading back with heavy footsteps. 

He stood on the bow, the wind carrying saltwater and the scent of island flora past his nose like a gentle caress. There was a flower tucked behind his ear as he stared down at the shore, eyes locked on the pile of beautiful rocks in the sand, topped with flowers and shells. The ship pulled away, and he bit back the need to sob as he watched the mound grow farther and farther away. An old voice called to him from behind, and he turned, noticing Psy standing behind him. 

“Captain? We have to keep moving.” his tone was gentle, a hand running through his balding head as he bowed his head in respect. Hongjoong lifted his chin, wiping his eyes with the back of his palms before he turned. 

Right. He was the Captain now.

“I’ll be right over. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

[mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker]

Sometime in the first few months of 2000, I dropped Stan Lee a line saying I’d love to do some work for Stan Lee Media, Stan’s well-publicized and multi-staffed dot-com company, if he could ever use me. He replied that, while he’d like to work with me again, I would’ve had to be around L.A. to work for SLM, but that, by coincidence, he really needed a writer to work with him on the SPIDER-MAN comic strip… to plot out and do the first-draft script of the seven-days-a-week King Features strip. I said that sounded fine to me (even though I’d never really been wild about writing Spidey compared to the F.F., Avengers, Conan, etc.). He replied with a chuckle that maybe I should wait till I heard his offer, because the money was so minuscule… just $300 a week. I laughed, and told him that he had no idea how little money it cost me to live on my 40-acre place in the middle of South Carolina. The mortgage and both our vehicles were paid off, so Dann and I had no expenses except what we spent month-to-month. So a deal was quickly struck, and I went to work, with my first strip (a Monday, of course) appearing on July 17, 2000.

As it turned out, although I never got a raise in 18 1/2 years I basically ghost-wrote the strip (though, until recent years, with his often hands-on editing), it was a great gig. I spent maybe two days a month writing four weeks’ worth of strips, and another day 2 or 3 times a year doing outlines for upcoming storylines.

After Stan cut back his activities a few years ago, following installation of his pacemaker, etc., I worked primarily with his longtime assistant, Michael Kelly, with some indirect verbal input from Stan, and in some ways I liked that even better, since Stan and I were only about 80% on the same page as to what made a good comic strip. Despite his well-known (and correct) views on how important the writing was to the success of Marvel Comics from 1961 on, he would often talk about how it was the artwork that sold the strip. I didn’t think that reflected the realities of the situation, particularly after John Romita left the strip a few years after it began, and as the printing of the strips grew smaller and smaller. Stan’s brother Larry Lieber was a good journeyman penciler (and Alex Saviuk considerably better), but the artists didn’t really have the scope, especially in the dailies, to do the kind of artwork that was going to excite readers the way, say, Milt Caniff once had in Terry and the Pirates. The sight of Spidey or Dr. Octopus in a strip might draw people in, but the writing had to bring people back, day after day, since Spidey and Peter and MJ and Doc Ock would always look basically the same, squeezed into small panels–with no “full-page spreads” like in the comicbooks. And yes, I wrote a bit more text and dialogue than he did… but that was partly because, otherwise, I wasn’t sure people could really follow the strip from day to day… or at least, no new readers would be brought in if it was hard to start reading the strip at any given point.

Mostly, though, Stan and I got along fine. For the most part, he liked what I submitted, accepted most (not all) of my ideas for stories… and until a few years ago often “suggested” (or insisted upon) alterations in them. For some years, he would rewrite a panel or balloon here and there, or even more… while other dailies or Sundays would sail through without a single word change.

The major change I tried to effect, after the first “Spider-Man” movie, was to go back to a time when MJ and Peter weren’t married. Stan agreed, and seemed halfway enthusiastic about the change at first, and we did one whole storyline (involving Electro) that way. But then Stan changed his mind, and I saw at once that I wouldn’t be able to change it back. So I wrote a “Dallas”-type scene in which Peter woke up (after going to sleep in Aunt May’s apartment as a single young man) to find himself married (again) to Mary Jane… and that’s the way we kept it from then on. Actually, I was increasingly happy with that, as an alternative to the bouncing around of the comicbooks, in which MJ and Peter totally forgot each other and their marriage, and who-knows-what occurred. Left increasingly to my own devices, and building on MJ’s modeling career in the comicbooks, I gradually took her from working in a computer store to becoming a Broadway star and movie actress, playing a super-heroine called “Marvella” (before the female Captain Marvel was a big deal, or maybe even was around at all)…but I kept her and Peter, somewhat incongruously, in their relatively small Manhattan apartment (except when they were in L.A., of course)… although they occasionally shopped around for something bigger.

In recent years, I had taken increasingly to using guest stars: Wolverine, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Ant-Man, most recently Iron Fist and Luke Cage. We never bothered to try to follow the current Marvel continuity, which Stan didn’t want to do… the more so, I suppose, as from time to time it was given increasingly to violent wrenches and re-starts, such as when MJ and Peter were abruptly uncoupled. If there were eventually several Spider-Man universes in the comics (with different Spider-Men, a Spider-Girl, whatever), well, our comic strip universe was yet another one… just about the only one, in recent years, in which Peter and MJ were a married couple, continuing the original direction of decades of the comicbooks. We were all kind of proud of that.

When the strip died (i.e., was killed), the Mammon Theatre where MJ’s hit play was running was shuttered by damage (in a Spidey-related fight, of course), and “Marvella II” had flopped, so the two of them took off to Australia for a vacation, and I wrote a couple of weeks of a continuity (along with a full outline approved by Michael Kelly) involving the villain the Kangaroo. Then Marvel decided to kill the strip and not print the final couple of weeks, and I declined to rewrite the last published strip or two to turn it into a “goodbye” strip. My feeling was that I had accepted the snuffing of the strip, and didn’t take it personally… it was just a business move (although when I was told the strip was being killed I wasn’t told—perhaps because those who informed me didn’t know–that Marvel was planning to either revive the strip with a new team or to start a new strip that might not be a Spidey strip per se, but more the equivalent of DC’s latter-day successor to its Superman strip, The World’s Greatest Heroes, which had featured the whole panoply of DC heroes). I felt that I had written what I had written for the strip, and they were welcome to do whatever they wanted to with the script (as long as I was paid for what I had done, naturally), but I preferred never to touch it again. When I’m done with something, I’m done with something.

Alex Saviuk, bless him, graciously reworked the final strip to show the two of us in it, and to add a “‘Nuff Said!” headline on the Daily Bugle. He was perhaps a better sport about things than I was… and I admire him for that, since he had spent well over two decades penciling the Sunday Spider-Man and then had only recently been promoted to seven-days-a-week penciler… only to see the strip almost immediately canceled so that he was out of a regular gig. I hope he finds one. He deserves it.

Naturally, I was sorry to see the strip end (the more so because it signaled the finale of the only long-lasting adventure strip launched in the past half century), just at the time when I could finally have begun to receive on-strip credit for the work I did… although of course I did have that for two years on the Conan the Barbarian comic strip at the end of the 1970s. But at least, once Stan wrote vaguely, maybe a decade ago, in his introduction to the hardcover volume Marvel Visionaries: Roy Thomas, that I “help[ed]” him with the Spidey strip, everybody with half a brain knew what I was contributing to the strip anyway. That didn’t bother Stan, and it didn’t bother me. The strip was Stan’s, and I was happy to co-write or write it under his name… although I wouldn’t have been willing to go on writing it anonymously once he had passed on, had that alternative been suggested to me.

Working with Stan and Michael Kelly (as well as with Larry, Alex, and the ever-amiable Joe Sinnott–with Joe spelled occasionally by Jim Amash or Terry Austin) on the Spider-Man strip was an enjoyable experience, and I’m grateful to Stan for offering me that “pittance” back in 2000. The strip became the last of our many collaborations of one sort or other, which began when, in early July of 1965, I inherited a Modeling with Millie story that he had previously talked over (I suppose) with penciler Stan Goldberg.

Best wishes,

Roy Thomas

The LAST SPIDER-MAN Daily newspaper strip! It’s been a fabulous time for me being part of such an iconic character for so long. I’ve drawn Spider-Man in comics and newspapers for 32 years in a row and unless I get another crack at him NEXT year that run will come to an end. But I am digressing a bit; I’m here to talk about the newspaper strip which for me OFFICIALLY started in the spring of 1977 probably around April-May. I say OFFICIALLY because back in 1980 , John Romita, Sr. who was still drawing the entire strip at that time called me and asked if I had the time to ghost lay out some Sunday strips for him since he was incredibly busy with everything else he had on his plate for Marvel. John lived ( and still lives, I believe ) in the town next to mine on Long Island when I was there and I actually met him about 10 years earlier since I was in high school with his sons. ( that’s right, I went to high school with JR, Jr.— he IS four years younger than me to the day and when I was a senior he was a freshman and today looks 20 years younger than me!) I was in a club in school with the older son Victor who over time found out I was interested in drawing comics and came to me one day and said “… my father draws comics — would you like to meet him?” Of course I knew that but I would never impose. We met soon after that. What happened after that is another story!

BACK TO THE STRIP: I did at least 4 Sunday layouts for John on vellum tracing paper and he took it to the next level and beyond yet saving him a ton of time. I was really happy and excited just to be called to assist him , first of all, and then get the privilege and honor of working with one of my comic book artist “heroes”. IDW just recently published that volume of reprints and it was fun to see our collaborations again.

FORWARD to 1997: Ralph Macchio at Marvel calls me up and asks if I would be interested in penciling the Spider-Man Sunday strip since fill-in penciler old time artist Fred Kida wanted to leave. Of course I agreed — i would get to work directly with Stan Lee and Joe Sinnott! I put a package together of my Web Of Spider-Man and Spider-Man Adventures books and sent them to Stan. His assistant Mike Kelly called a few days later and said Stan liked the work but wanted to see how I would handle a “horizontal” strip in a six panel grid format. I admit I was a bit surprised by that request since with my 20 years of experience at that time I figured i showed what I can do in just the comic books. But I went ahead and penciled a six panel episode of an encounter with Spider-Man saving JJonah Jameson from a few muggers with the end panel having an ungrateful JJJ waving his fist at Spidey as he swung away from the scene. I sent that in and a few days days after returning home from running errands I found a message from Stan Lee on my answering machine. “ Hi, Alex… this is Stan Lee. I LOVE your work and I’d love to work with you. It doesn’t pay that much but think of the GLORY!” Actually the page rate was as much as I was making at the time so i couldn’t complain. No raise in 22 years ( but from what I understand things havent changed that much for mainstream freelancers even today. ) I got my first script a few days later and in May 1977 I penciled a Sunday in the middle of a Kingpin storyline which was inked by Joe Sinnott , lettered by Stan Sakai and was published in August 1977. Sundays were always drawn 3 months ahead of publication. What a rush to see those preview Xeroxes and then the colored version in the newspaper( which I had to hunt down ! There were no papers in Florida where I lived carrying the strip but the local Barnes & Noble sold out of town newspapers so I managed to find one that published the Sundays )

FORWARD to Feb 2003: Got a call asking me if I could ink a week of Dailies drawn by Larry Lieber because inker John Tartaglione needed to go to the hospital for a procedure. John ended up being OK after that week but I had a blast inking Larry’s pencils since I really never inked anybody else other my own pencils for my Web Of Spider-Man covers. Sadly that November , I got a call that John Tartaglione has passed away at 82 because he lost the fight with his particular illness. At the same time I was asked if I would be able to take over the inking of the Dailies. Affirmative….

FORWARD to July 2018: Larry Lieber wants to retire at 87 after 25+ years ( maybe 30+? ) and I inherit the penciling duties! Pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I thought the Stan Lee would live forever especially since a few years ago when he got his pacemaker he felt he was the next Tony Stark and felt stronger than ever. Unfortunately and sadly as we all know , that didnt happen and Marvel decided the strip shouldn’t go on without STAN LEE at the helm. But I am forever in Stan Lee’s debt for having me join him, Joe Sinnott, Roy Thomas and letterers Stan Sakai, Kenny Lopez, and Janice Chiang for all these years in bringing our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to our readers each and every day for these months and years! It’s been a joy, an honor and privilege which I will never forget!

( I do want to add that since since the Sundays were done so far in advance there are TWO more Sundays that followed March 17 that we did together that are now considered to be officially UNPUBLISHED! )”

-Alex Saviuk

P.S. Putting aside how Roy got his timeline mixed up because the back int ime stuff happened in 2008 not 2002, and just so you heard it louder at the back, Stan Lee and Roy Thomas 100% didn’t care fro OMD and actively sought to keep the marriage in the comics.

[celestiallydamned]

INTRO

Hmm’s & Praises.

Love us - don’t hate us. Contacting me from the other side, that’s what the Guardian Angel said. Using my inner voice. Sentiment I felt completely. And exactly what I’d wanted to say. But they got in there before me. And I grew angrier, still.

They’re like komodo dragons; one whisper inflicted, strategically, and you’re done for. That’s how I sometimes envisage them. The Agents (similar to our detectives). These monstrous beings hovering around their huge, oval-shaped desk with monitors throughout the length of its circumference. Monitoring constantly. Me. You see, I can make them out some of the time. Even though there’s the inevitable time delay and the fact they’re faster in their movements compared to us. Doesn’t matter. At certain times, as we converse - well, they talk, I listen and occasionally get the chance to interject - I can make them out. Which surprises them. But I can’t prove it. They’re likely to agree with me about the fact that I think I see them to purposefully keep me amused. Especially when I tell them MyGuy’s just arrived back from their canteen with goody bags for y’all. Yes, they snack up there.

The Agents don’t reckon I can see them at all. And seem bemused every time I might ask them things like, who’s the new guy leaning into the left end of the oval desk. I haven’t noticed them before. Long legs and great ass. I used to make comments like that to keep them entertained. As they seemed to buy into it every time. But now things have changed. Gone are the days when the Agents would select my best one-liner of that day, collect them and have them ready to show several of the elected Gods another time so they, too, could laugh. At my expense. Behind my back no doubt. But still, laugh.

Are there so few Agents still connected with my case up there they’re now using wannabee actors. This ongoing situation always was farcical. But this morning they’re adlibbing like I’ve never heard. And the problem is, especially as I lack concentration first thing, I start to wander, hardly taking anything that‘s said to me with any seriousness. Not that I’ve missed much. They’re usually quite fastidious about needing to grab my attention. But when they do, it’s often a case of their not having anything of any importance to tell me. We need to talk to you, they’ll say with urgency. Sit down, we need to explain what’s going on. But their explanations this morning were so boring I actually started to envisage the Agents bins, by their desks, bugged. And told them so. Of course they didn’t take it seriously, until later when they belligerently added, ahem, you were right. Besides them and their usual quandaries, the problem for me is simple: as a medium I can both see and hear.

Neither Agents nor Guardian Angels, both departments working from the same Head Quarters, had even thought of checking the bins. Although, for some reason, I suspected Special Branch’s TopCat’s involvement the night before - maybe so he could prove just how lax the Agents really are. TopCat? All names of the Agents, etc., by the way, are made up by me purely as I can neither hear their language nor the proper pronunciation of their names. Excepting for some of the Angels, those of us that have crossed over already. But even with them they don’t use their actual names. For some reason, and no one has explained this, they’re given different names by the angelic beings to be able to exist up there. Really? Or is it a case of not wanting me to know exactly who they are. Let’s face it, I could get in touch with theirs down here.

07:20 Dream: Large bouquet of flowers - was making mine out of branches. Within a wild, OTT garden. Was it a jungle-type place? Very overgrown but tame at the same time. 

White kittens, playing in a very beautiful white flowering shrub. Some girl I didn’t know had just bought or acquired them.

Simon, an Angel from the Dream Factory’s already there, just arrived to chat with me about dreams created by them, transmitted to me and played out this morning (notes above). Are dreams supposed to be split into sections? According to Agent Tedi (short for tedium and from the Psychic department within HQ) they’re usually 2 - 3 segments within one section, but sometimes split. Of course, regardless of what I snarl at these animalistic Agents, off their tethers, about not being able to remember dreams if and when, always when, I hear them droning on, on and on in the background first thing on waking throughout my night and early morning as this makes it practically impossible for me to remember the content of any of the dreams received. Like well-groomed actors waiting for their auditions, Simon and Tedi are easy to put up with admittedly. At least it’s possible to deduce from them certain interpretational skills in association with trying to understand the visual content of dreams that appear as suddenly as that one person you never, ever want to bump into again.

Is the content of dreams really based on Birth Charts rather than timelines? Somehow, and I can’t argue the reasons here, this has always been a factor, never mentioned by them until today. Do they think we’re all astrological junkies?

I should really bother to make notes more often as my journalesque foray into recording this absolute debacle - as it unfolds - has virtually stopped. There’s never enough time, what with dealing with live footage from them. All too live, as it‘s not possible for mediums to hear the ‘other side‘ without listening devices and other equipment installed, by download, inside their heads. Ssshh. Just don’t tell mediums nor psychics as it might destroy their inbuilt notions in being able to communicate with the other side as an innate ability accrued presumably at birth and nurtured throughout their apparent especial lives.

Live footage and monotonous tapes of conversations enacted by Angels (who used to be actors here and now work there as Agents) are played out for my benefit, to keep me company throughout the day. And every day. From as soon as tired eyes blink Agents are there, waiting slathering at their desks. Some conversations are hardly discernible at times as the volume to the listening device installed deep within my left ear is kept off to prevent interference - from others. Yes, according to the Agents, even with the volume switched off I can still hear them through my inner voice. I call it miraculous.

‘We’ve walked straight into a trap‘. Barely audible is someone’s admittance off in their distance. My pen hastily jots notes, marks tearing across pages at times erratically. You see, the Agents encourage both. Not only my writing but my moods. To keep me subdued. Occupied. Frustration verging on repetitive anger orchestrated meticulously and easily due to medication applied by them. And those that play at being god.

Talking of which, the medical department there have been hiding cellars; heavy decorative rugs strategically placed over trapdoors - leading to their underworld no doubt. Five male doctors were involved with monitoring me last night. Who were they? The only names I’m fully aware of within their department are Ben, and, to a lesser extent, Neil. Although I doubt if either were included in last night’s nasty littl’ soiree. Which seemed to be going fine for the 5 monitoring docs, until this temporary Guardian Angel (GadFly or GA for short) of mine at the moment squeaked a splash or two of oil on cogs needing lubed. Are they, within the medical department, able to multitask; masturbate and monitor me, with cameras spying on everything I do, at the same time?

This relatively new GA was conferring last night with Agents TopGuy and MyGuy about this supposedly classified case. In other words, me. When pertinent information was shared with them, along with an explanation proffered by Agent BigGuy who specialises in electronics and communication. According to them, the signals of the medical department had been checked and configured to track specifically an outgoing signal emitted through the use of significant 3D software?of me. I call the fucking thing ‘the Beast’. It’s an exact replica of myself - on a scale of 1:10 I would’ve guessed, without blemishes and skin infections I’m crawling with. Let’s call the Beast heavily Photoshopped. In other words, digitally worked over so I look perfect, in every angle. And twenty years younger.

The immense power of the imagination of Angels, those humans that have managed to reach the other side. Or Tearaways as I sometimes refer to them as. Those who have crossed over, bringing all-important recent hardware coding with them. And building Beasts.

Last night, according to notes I bothered to make, the realisation this case of mine means nothing actually bothered me. And I’ve no idea why. I’m exhausted; waking up each night several times: right rib cage causing postural problems when trying to relax in bed - the after-effects of having been brutally attacked through their use of poison. But it’s the dreams. And other means of communication, usually downloaded and opening early morning, I never seem to be able to recount. Yet they’re leaving me with neither hope nor wanting to get this misery figured out. And that’s exactly what’s happening. There’s an apathy gradually erupting. With their system so corrupt, and regardless of how disparate these departments appear to be, they’re essentially and relentlessly one and the same. The only real noticeable differences are their distinct races. And character traits.

Somehow female GA’s got through to me last night, late. Had I slept already? That aside, why were they making comment. It’s usually only those that do I’ll pick up on as their tiresome voices come through to my inner voice. I could even see them standing at a pedestal of some sort. Seriously, like something out of a television show. And their comments, intended to provoke, came through loud and clear. About the fact that it serves him right. Meaning me. I’ve no idea what other thoughts may have been charging through my head at the time.

If only I could sleep. All night. Like regular folks do. But I seem to wake up after every sleep cycle, and those don’t seem to last any longer than 60 - 90 minutes or so. Invariably I’m woken up out of dreams or some sort of communication - from them. And that’s when I hear them. Unintentionally. But they can’t help themselves. These wretched GA’s. Eagerly awaiting for me to wake so they can verbally whack me with totally unnecessary commentary. They’re like vultures, circling. Ready to drop. To rob their victim of all that’s holding them together. Before I doze back off again into never-never-land. Only to wake up.

A lull exists. Only if I scribble haphazardly into my notebook. Or if I read a book, something I haven’t bothered with in years. Or editing old photographs taken occasionally on travels thrown together. This lull’s happening during writerly scrawls and morning coffee, desperately needed today. The medical department, after last nights discovery by the Agents of a hidden lab within the medical compound, sent a delegation to HQ (where the dreaded Agents and hellish GA’s lunch most of their days away) to apologise. Not to me. Obviously. Why would the entire medical department be aware of my eavesdropping abilities from here if and when confabs ensue about me.

Besides, how come I was able to view a Victorian pile, or a neo-Gothic architectural monstrosity, last night where the medical moderators were, playing at being doctors. I could see them panicking when they realised their precious monitor / computer system was going to be checked by Agents - as the doctors were monitoring me at the time. The imaging itself (think along the lines of a vivid daydream) was of one of them handing something through a trapdoor just behind and to their left.

And then, along with several Agents, I happened to notice a turret outside, a rather horrid attachment to the original building of the medical compound, containing a spiral staircase with access to other floors; at its peak a cupola. Turns out this small, decorative roof was adorned with an aerial suitable for outgoing signals allowing the 3D software of the Beast and those that operate it not just full control of the Beast itself but their signal emitted under the radar, under the noses of the Agents stationed there monitoring all other signals transmitted through aerials on the main roof of the medical building.

But then I got slightly confused when I spotted a dark green and flourishing grassed lawn within the walled confines of the grounds. Rectangular in shape, its very existence incongruous to there. Is it real? I asked one of the Agents. Watered? Then it dawned on me, ‘It’s a grass roof; similar stuff used down here within inner cities‘. The lawn itself edged in a glass-like casing, allowing slivers of weak daylight into a darkened space below. Apparently the medical department were growing specific botanical specimens in relation to procuring essential natural substances; all organically grown I should hope. All within a large artificially lit greenhouse below the lawn itself. These substances elicited, albeit illegally, to be used in medication created in-house for the doctors insistence on carrying out deadly experiments. On our lives down here. Not theirs - they’re brain-dead already.

[lotrewrite]

LOT Chat Recap

So the chat went very well! I have grouped the subjects into thematic categories for everyone's ease.

A few up-front things for everyone:

Scheduling

Everyone will have two more weeks to revise their drafts or send in comments. Writers, please send me the edits you want me to make to your episode outline, which will be posted to the outline doc; you can also start drafting your final episode. If writers have any further questions about your episode, send in submissions or asks and they can be discussed by the group on this page; I am also always available to talk by messenger. Readers, please send in your comments and questions on episodes. I will be posting "let's talk about these three episodes" posts every day for the next week so that people can submit specific comments about those episodes if they have any additional comments to make.

We will have another chat on Saturday June 24 at 1PM EST (unless people prefer a different time)

Fully written episodes will then be due on Friday, July 28.  We will then have two weeks of editing and proof-reading, with the goal of posting the complete season to Ao3 by August 15.

Format

As people are welcome to start drafting their episodes ASAP, we need to decide on format. I will post a separate post in regards to this question with a poll.

Recap

Queen B

We're using the "Queen of Bialya with mind control powers" version, with an amulet instead of "pheromones" because it corresponds with Amaya's symbolism-wise; Queen B is from 2016

Motive: she's sensitive about the fact that she's illegitimately in power, which is why she isn't in Bialya

Legends could use in the Roman Republic episode where she's pretending to be a Queen; that’s why she has a feud with Mari, who has been helping undermine her power base by helping prove that she's not legit; she wants the spear so she's legitimately the queen of Bialya, which is why she joins the Legion (also because messing with Amaya will interfere with Mari)

Femme fatale style villain, which would make the scene in episode 16 where instead of seducing/convincing/mind controlling the guard, she just punches him, SO MUCH FUNNIER (like she saunters up, you think she's gonna use her powers, she smiles all seductive - and WHAM)

We need to pump up her role in the various episodes - she can take Merlyn's place as the "person who snarks with Darkh"

Amaya

Needs more development of her plot where she’s thinking about her future and trying to think of whether she should change it or not

Episode 10: Amaya and Queen B fight  - Queen B hints at things, building up Amaya’s curiosity

Episode 13: Queen B has more revelations for Amaya, telling actual facts

Amaya is thinking about changing: the destruction of her village and the fact that Mari grows up in the foster care system

That means we can have her start to angst about changing things in the Tudor episode (14) and New York (15); maybe a scene in 14 where she does research about her future secretly and then in 15 more debate about changing it, with the events of 15 inspiring her not to change it

that way we have a 5-part arc for Amaya about it

and her later confrontations with Queen B in 18 and in Doomworld work stronger because of it because Queen B’s taunts don’t  work as well any more

Compass

They pick it up in Episode 8 from Constantine in return for helping with the Crusade; Lily gets brought in to use her micro-tech knowledge to amp it up but really because Stein wants her around, but otherwise I think we can limit the references to it to "so Gideon says the compass goes to Y time period" – but it should be referenced consistently after Episode 8

Lily first appears in Episode 7 just like in canon, possible reference to present day Clarissa

Lily first gets picked up in episode 15, and ends up having her fight with Stein about him hiding her aberration status in episode 15 so that 16 starts with them still fighting; she can just be brought in as an "expert" in technology to help calibrate the compass, not because she’s an aberration – Rip can reveal it to her because he’s a Time Master and objects

Relationship with Stein: he’s still a workaholic, tries to over-interfere with her academics, distant but proud of her accomplishments and they bonded over their intelligence, he’s a good mentor figure; she’s pissed off that he didn't tell her about the aberration thing - it makes her feel like he didn't trust her, and she presumably had to fight HARD to get to a position of academic achievement where she felt he respected her instead of humoring her because she's his beloved daughter; a case of "daddy knows best" when it comes to the aberration issues. And she can be like "this is just like when you came to my dissertation defense!" It also explains why she forgives him in episode 16: she's kind of used to him being a bit of an oblivious tactless dumbass

Oculus – Spear

The Oculus' destruction and the scattering of the spear pieces are somehow connected – they were using the spear to power the Oculus; when it exploded, they scattered

as a Time Master, Rip knows where to find them – the piece he finds in the time loop with the 81 people is one of the pieces from the Oculus; the pieces want to get back together and are powered up by one of them being used

they don’t whisper and cannot be used to guide to each other – they don’t work by “wishes” per se, they just allow people to make changes to the timeline (good luck in succeeding in changing history to your will); only the spear together can you “wish” a new world into existence

The spear pieces weren’t “always there” – they were scattered there

Re-work the pilot so that the piece Rip gets is from the Oculus and maybe we can scatter the information that they had been powering the Oculus with the spear into episode 4 (Eo's explanation) and episode 8 (Constantine can do a bit of an info dump, he's a magical character)

Len

Len ends up just hovering in the background in a lot of the episodes and he never seems to get any lines that talk about his bitterness/resentment, so we need to use him more.

He is connected to the Oculus and that's why putting the spear back together = we see him more

Len’s appearance guide:

First few episodes, we have ONLY "visuals" of Len, just momentary glimpses, through episode 5, but nothing more - no comments, just blink-and-he's-gone.

Episode 3 is our first appearance of blink-and-miss-him - thematically appropriate since we're also bringing in Amaya

More blink-and-miss appearance in the next two episodes

We have the "funeral" episode as the turning point between “blink and gone” and “talking” next episode

Then in episode 6 we have our first appear-and-talk Len, the big moment where Mick is taken aback and is surprise (like in canon, where Mick has to give a gruff "You're not real"). But at that point, he's still only showing up briefly.

Len starts showing up more as the episodes go by; episode 6 through 10 we have him saying things TO Mick and Mick trying (and failing) to ignore him

Episode 10 being the episode where he's talking enough with Mick that the others notice

Episode 11 they test Mick for hallucinations, but Len's still there

Episode 12 Len doesn't do much, but the audience finds out he's real

Then from episode 13 to 16, Len should really be written as a full member of the cast just one that no one else can hear but Mick.

In Episode 14 L!Len steals the piece while O!Len is around, which is when O!Len realizes for the first time that Legion!Len is around; we could have a scene with O!Len asking Gideon "WTF was that"

NOTE: once Len is a full cast member, he can have scenes by himself, he doesn't always have to be tied to Mick or to another cast member, but before that, when he's just a hallucination, he shouldn't appear solo

Episode 16, he argues with Mick and leaves to go with the Legion!Len, who he discovers can also see him

Episode 17 is the episode where he helps Legion!Len fight the Legion

Episode 18 O!Len comes back and re-joins Mick's side, but isn't able to convince him not to go with Legion!Len in episode 19

Episode 20, Mick discovers Len is real

Episode 22, everyone else does and Len gets resurrected

Bambi

Decision made that Bambi survives; Pan will fix the details

Because Bambi survive in episode 2, there will be a line in the very end of the finale, when they crash land in LA and there are dinos there, just as the scene is fading to black we get a Ray voice-over going "wait...Bambi?!"

because that would be A, hilarious and B, a good tie-in to show that time is broken and they didn't land in a different part of the multiverse

Pencil

It's a convenient device that Nate would have around that the audience won't immediately go "ah-ha! mysterious item gets mentioned! will be important!"; him waving around the pencil in the pilot is a nice, easy way to bring it into the audience's view - but not emphasize it

It's his "lucky" pencil that he only uses for important exams; think of the kid who has a pencil box where he lovingly keeps that ONE PENCIL that he passed a test with and he uses it ONLY for tests

Nate inadvertently creates his own closed time loop: the spear is scattered through time and appears in Nate’s possession, which he thinks is a gift from his grandfather – it immunizes him from the changes in time (Nate tells his grandfather "you gave me your lucky pencil"; his grandfather who does not' have a lucky pencil gets weird about it then grabs a random pencil from the mission ( the spear piece) and gives that to young!Nate thereby completing the circle)

The JSA is there on a legitimate mission that is being messed up by the spear piece being there but since they're IN the time period, they don't realizes it's being messed with; the Legends, however, realize something is wrong and figure out that those weird glowing sticks might be involved and go looking but also try to help fix the original mission, which they mess up and show how unprofessional they are; however, in the end, they manage to help the JSA complete their mission and in the process, Henry grabs the spear piece he doesn't know it's a spear piece because the legends never shared that info

He takes the pencil because Nate told him he gave him his lucky pencil and Henry didn't have one but he doesn't want to disappoint his grandson so he picks one up going "this is a good memento of a really weird mission" and the Legends realize that that's how Nate got the spear piece in the first place it plays on the nature of time travel

the pencil is a closed time loop - it's a really nice way to play with time travel without being too cliche - it's the "being your own grandfather" trope but funny

the fact that we have two "time loops" in the early episodes - but not really in the later ones - could be a symptom of the timeline freeing itself from the "set" history of the Time Masters

which would be really cool thematically, with the Legends being set up by their various experiences in season 2 to actually start /deliberately changing history/ in season 3

Nate

Nate's hemophilia resolved with Gideon just saving his life, but doesn't fix his hemophilia

would be really funny to have Nate cameo in Doomworld by literally doing the same thing he does in the pilot - breaking into the mayor's office and babbling about history something. except this time it's Darkh;  but then darhk would kill him, but it'd be undone by the end of Doomworld

Ray breaking his suit

The full sequence is episode 6 (damage) episode 7 (overshadowed by Invasion) episode 8 (breaks) episode 9 (unsuccessful repair; acknowledge that he won’t be able to use it) episode 10 (can't use it all; trying new personas).

Because it's his screwing up in episode 6 that causes it, but it doesn't fully break it. and he's not a big player using his suit in Invasion, which we're mostly leaving alone

In Episode 9, he’s trying to put the suit back together but has only gotten parts of it to work; he shrinks due to an error and is worried he won’t be able to get big again – should have a moment at the end of the episode where Ray acknowledges he won’t fix it any time soon and realizing he needs to try to be a hero in a different way to set up the episode 10 montage

Ray montage

in terms of visuals, the scene should probably focus on Ray in the center, with whoever commenting doing so from off-screen

Ray tries to give himself powers; "I'm going to Captain America myself" "Remember how that went for Bruce Banner?" - a good way to point out that the Marvel universe are comics in DC

dress him in the GL outfit and he's explaining to someone that "so it'll be based around this ring -" "won't work"

dress him as the Blue Beetle for a second before he goes "naaaaah" 

booster gold and Gideon advises against

We should have him in a superman costume at one point but with no "s" and he's saying "I dunno, maybe if something went in the middle?" (that is also a Powergirl reference - the superman outfit but the "s" was a chest-window or the "atom" LOT symbol, and then you have someone (Jax?) off-screen going "no, man, no")

possibly one piece outfit, Naruto outfit - Mick offscreen just goes "NO, haircut"

Vikings

Jax says Stein is his dad, possibly a mentor instead? Or a specific reference to multi-cultural Vikings

the changing vs. preserving history argument

They are split up as sara, ray, amaya for preserve and mick, jax, stein for change, but by the end of episode 13, it ends up as mick, jax, stein, amaya vs. sara, ray, rip once rip's brainwashing is removed and amaya hears about her future from queen b

Cameos

Jason Blood in the background for a few episodes

I think the references to Poison Ivy not returning their calls and then having a discussion of Poison Ivy in Doomworld worked really well using Kendra three times was also really great

the Lanterns should also be foreshadowed more, if they're going to appear (one reference to the Lanterns in our rewritten Invasion, so if we have maybe one more somewhere, it'd be enough)

References to the other rogues: both in the future and mick, len, and lisa talking about them

Need to fill in reference in filler episode (Selina Kyle? Someone else?)

Trauma

Should have some scenes dealing with the trauma Ray went through while surviving in the cretaceous period and dealing with the effects Rip's brainwashing had - both characters would try to deny it, powering through until they break (Ray when his suit breaks for good in episode 10 - he mentions that he feels empty without his suit and all alone like he did in the Cretaceous period)

Rip and Mick should definitely have a moment to discuss brainwashing, if possible

Ray's suit is some symbolism for his psychological journey

Episode 3

Possible move to D Day or using the 1942 occupation of the south of France because of the Allied invasion of Morocco

Episode 10

Stein goes undercover as a Brit as well, and that's how they find out that the Legion are influencing the Brits; That way he gets stuck on the British ship and can't form Firestorm until the climatic battle moment

episode 8

Zatanna and Madame Xanadu should appear briefly in the beginning (wild goose chase montage when they’re trying to hire someone other than Constantine)

The organization should be 1, Rip being chased; 2, intro sequence; 3, Constantine sequence with Zed getting the vision; 4, they go after Rip and I think 4, the feudal Japan sequence, should be longer, with more chasing and action sequences, as well as a scene where the Legends lose Rip to the Legion because Ray’s suit breaks and where Rip thinks Eobard is friendly before realizing he’s not;

needs a scene where the Legends return to Constantine and he offers them the compass in exchange for help with the Crusade, THEN intersperse the Rip interrogation with the Legends defeating the Crusade

[hotcocosharing]

Switching Places Chapter 17: Hello Sister

Title: Switching Places Chapter 17 Fandom: Kiss By The Baddest Bidder & Metro PD: Close To You Rated: Drama, Thriller, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mystery? MPD’s MC: Mika HIJIKATA KBTBB’s MC: Mia SAKATA (reference) Characters: Eisuke, Soryu, Mamoru, Baba, Ota Summary: Some face to face / heart to heart real talk between the twins Background: If you don’t know what this series is about, here’s a quick summary and reference links. MC Mika is the twin sister of Mia- original MC from KBTBB who’s now unconscious in hospital after an attack, Mika who works in MPD goes undercover and soon discovers about the black market auction plus a series of “troubles”- Eisuke forces himself on her / Walk into Soryu masturbation / Fun time with the boss Kirisawa / One night stand with creepy doc / Sleeping with lazy Mamo & Eisuke’s fantasy  / Or going on a date with Eisuke? / Drinking game with the bidders

mysticliz26 ayaka-oh @sunflowerblackrabbit / @icedragonsprincess / humorcomchantilly / @smoreseater

Tagging some of the amazing people as they are part of the reason why I’d keep writing & Special thanks to whatdoyouexpectthistime

Notes: Next Chap- Mika and Soryu face Eisuke... not gonna be pretty

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ Prologue Chapter 1: Part 1 Waking Up Chapter 1: Part 2 Welcome Home Chapter 1: Part 3A Hell Hole (Option 1 SMUT) Chapter 1- Part 3 (option 2 ROMANCE) Chapter 2: Hello Stranger Chapter 3: Part 1A Someone Chapter 3: Part 1B What Am I? (Soryu’s ROMANCE) Chapter 4: Heated Night (Soryu’s SMUT) Chapter 5: Part 1 Bad Timing (Kirisawa’s SMUT) Chapter 5: Part 2 Show time (Luke’s SMUT) Chapter 5: Part 3 Bed time, kid (Mamo;s SMUT) Chapter 6: Part 1 Morning After Chapter 6: Part 2 Be Mine, Again (Eisuke’s SMUT) Chapter 7: Nothing Else Chapter 8: The One & Only (Soryu’s SMUT) Chapter 9: Part 1 Behind the Mask Chapter 9: Part 2 Date Night Chapter 10: Let The Game Begins Chapter 11: Make It Right Chapter 12: Will You Help Me Mamoru? Chapter 13: GONE Chapter 14: The More The Merrier Chapter 15: I’m not in love with Eisuke Chapter 16: Might As Well Be Dead?

Chapter 17: Hello Sister

Kirisawa closes the door quietly once your arms are wrapped around Mia, hot tears are flooding your eyes and pouring down your cheeks. "Thank god!!" Confuse and worry, your twin sister whispers nervously. "What's going on, Mika? They took me here from the hospital and wouldn't let me go home." Whipping away your tears as you pull away to take a good look at her, "Home?" Tucking her bangs across her pale cheek to her ear, she hesitates. "Yes, I.. I live at the hotel dormitory." "Mia, I know." Like a kid got caught stealing, she takes a few steps back. "Know what?" "Mia, I know. I've been going undercover as you, living with them. I know everything."

Eisuke's World

Hearing a light knock on the door, Eisuke takes the last sip of his drink and walks back to his desk. Baba opens he door and peeks inside, "Come in." Eisuke orders, sitting on his usual chair.

"Mamoru says the police has arrived, he can't bring them back." Eisuke looks up and glared at the thief in red, "Who's behind this?" Baba hands him a few pages with the scar woman's photo, "I think she has an accomplice, still tracking the real ip." Eisuke clicks his tongue at the information, "This pathetic bitch just doesn't know when to quit." "The police has her, she's going to jail for sure." Eisuke's eyes leave from the papers to his laptop screen, "She's just a pawn, I want the person behind it." Baba nods, "Call my lawyers." Eisuke says, mouse scrolling slowly down his email. "Baba, I want them back to the penthouse, both of them." He commends, narrowing his eyes with the words on his screen: LIKE YOUR SURPRISE? HOW DOES IT FEEL?

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

"What do you mean.. you've been living with them as me?" She panics. "Exactly what I said. You didn't wake, I played my part and pretended I woke at the hospital. They brought me to the hotel, oh I even attended the IVC and the beloved auctions." You smile, not amused at all. Too shock to speak, she stands there blankly.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Mia?"

"It's... not.. I don't know how to.. It's not an easy topic, how do I even bring it up?"

"You're sold at an black market auction! That's human trafficking! You were worried how to bring it up?"

You shouldn't get mad but here you are, slamming your hands on the table.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? What a failure I am for not knowing anything about you!"

Pacing around the room as you repeat her stories, something that you have to read from her diary instead of hearing it from her.

"They are criminals and you can be charged as accomplice! What were you thinking??!!"

"They are good people!" She defends them but swiftly averts her gaze to the floor. "They may have broken some laws but they are good people, deep down they are all kind hearted."

"Well Eisuke sure as hell has burried his heart so deep that no one can see apart from you!"

She giggles and the corner of her lips turn into a smile. "He's difficult but he is just..."

"Fucked up and broken?"

"Mika, I love him and he loves me."

Letting out a sarcastic chuckle, you snort. "He has a funny way of showing it." "Well, he isn't very good at expressing his feelings."

You should tell her about that night, the blow job, the mask, every nasty thing he's done to you but instead, you bite your lips and break the bad news. "They are all going down."

"What?"

"I'm a cop, you don't expect me to turn a blind eye, do you?"

"No, wait, Mika!! Don't."

"Mia! They are criminals!"

"No! But they are good people!"

"They are selling people, stolen arts, information..."

"Yes but also because there are people to buy them."

"Oh my god, are you listening to yourself? Is this what you have become? One of them? Breaking laws and think it's okay because it's for good cause!!" "I am not.."

"What? A criminal? Or did you seriously think they'll never get caught?"

"Mika, please, it's not what you think. They are just trying to help in their own ways."

"STOP DEFENDING THEM!!! Mia, wake up! They are criminals!"

"Yes!!! I heard you!! So was dad!!!!!" She yells with tears forming in her eyes as you watch her being torn apart.

"How dare you!!"

"He was a dirty cop too!! He made mistakes!! We all do!! Shouldn't you understand that out of all people?"

"Don't drag him into this, dad has nothing to do with this!"

"He broke the law for greater good, didn't he? He's one of the good ones. You always defend him, remember? Why can't you...."

"What? Cut them some slack? Dad did his time, he faced the consequences liked a man! If they are good people, they should make it right!!"

God you hate that phrase, make it right. It reminds you of Soryu, his sweet scent, his dazzling gaze, his hot breath on your chest not so long ago. How is he going to react? Ice Dragons will fall apart if he's locked up. Will he hate you once he find out who you are?

"Mika, please. At least let me.. let me try to convince them to stop the auction." You stare with a light shake of your head, "No Mia. I am not going to let you tip them off."

"You can't lock me up here."

"No but we can keep you here for 48 hours."

"Mika! No, please!!!"

You reach the doors before she takes another steps with Kirisawa waiting outside. "48 hours, that's all you get." He sighs quietly, "Go meet with the team quickly and fix the plan before Ichinomiya sends someone to get you." His hand hesitates on the doorknob and turns to you. "I hope you know what you are doing."

Chapter 18 here

[samdukewieland]

Stuck Inside Media Diary Week 8

Something that’s been nice about going back through Mad Men has been re-reading/re-visiting old Sepinwall recaps on the episodes. I read him religiously throughout high school and college, amongst others, but have since drifted from the recap on shows, for no good reason. Probably because there’s generally a podcast I can just listen to rather than read something (jock at heart-sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). This supposed to be a lesson in “go back and experience stuff from your high school years?” man, I don’t know; the venn diagram of things I did in high school and the things I do now is not small (or is it not big? What’s the best way to convey a lot of similarities with a venn diagram, size-wise). 

Sunday, May 10 (Mother’s Day)

The Third Man, Reed 1949

I was not super digging this while I was watching, it was late when I started watching it and it’s not slow exactly, but I was real curious how egg-zacktly Orson Wells was going to fit into the picture. Mysteries! I tells ya. Anyway, I’ve been stewing in it and realized, “huh, I think I actually like this movie quite a bit.” I think the Britishness, while not in your face, was secretly chipping away at my brain, already war-torn by tiredhead and then having a second wave of dry, British storytelling. Pretty good li’l picture (you could say that about movies in the 40′s-this isn’t uncommon).

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 4

This was done in an attempt to help my mom catch back up with Top Chef, which somewhat moved the needle, but I don’t think an episode (on her end) has been watched since. Mother’s Day: ruined.

Mad Men, “Tea Leaves”

My mom also watched this one with me, only because she just happened to be in the room. Her biggest hurdle with this show and her refusal to watch it is based solely on the fact that phones are ringing “all the time” and that “no one ever answers them.” Hard to refute it. She seemed mildly entertained by this episode, considering she had close to zero context for what was going on, thought that it was Ginsburg’s debut episode played some part into that. Pretty disorienting episode to be thrown into, what with the whole....Fat Betty thing (I was going to say “elephant in the room of Betty” but that just seemed cruel and trying too hard to try and be clever. An interesting, though ultimately aimless direction to take Betty this season and everyone involved kind of knows it.

The Last Dance, Parts 7 & 8

That this was the penultimate week of new Jordan doc created an unusual energy around the episodes, which were exciting in their own right as they went over his father’s murder, his baseball career and returning to basketball. But the thing that induced the most goosebumps was the “cliffhanger” (I am a moron) showdown between the Bulls and Pacers. 

Monday, May 11

Icarus, Fogel 2017 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Kinda nice going into a documentary knowing hints of what it’s about and trying to figure out when it transitions to being about “X” but then you slowly realize you misremembered that information your friend Tommy told you and are surprised that it becomes about the Russian state (very possible I am misusing that term; just trying to sound smarter than I actually am). I don’t watch or know enough about documentaries to confidently state what’s a good one and what’s a great one-I think this one received some kind of critical backlash after it won Best Documentary, which happens. There’s definitely an intellectual superiority to saying you think less of a documentary that either wins that award or a lot of people like (in this case, both!). It’s engaging and accessible (another thing snobs hate) and has a misdirect that doesn’t blind side you; I don’t even care about the Olympics, but I felt sucked in.

Monty Python: Almost The Truth (Lawyers Cut), “The Much Funnier Second Episode - The Parrot Sketch - Flying Circus Included”

This one had more focus on the influence Flying Circus had on writers/comedians who were watching it at the time as kids (primarily). Lotta dudes. I can not stress how there are few things less appealing than hearing Russell Brand describing why Monty Python was funny (this was very much made in 2009).

Mad Men, “Mystery Date”

Some more Sopranos karaoke, though constructed a little bit better this time. This is also the episode that decides to flesh out Dawn (Don’s secretary, a joke that is never not funny) a little bit more, however Mad Men only does this when there’s “something to be said” about being black, which didn’t look great in 2012 and *flips through pages of notes* nope, still doesn’t look good here either. I suppose an argument you could bring up that is awfully flimsy is that they didn’t want to paint themselves into a Nikki and Paulo situation, in terms of never actually caring about digging deeper into Dawn’s story. I dunno man, I’m not trying to cast stones here.

Tuesday, May 12

The Taking Of Pelham One, Two, Three, Sargent 1974

What a white whale this movie’s been for me and brother, it feels good to have finally caught it. It’s insanely cool to go into a movie not knowing that it’s the 1974 version of Inside Man with a little bit of Dog Day Afternoon spliced in (pre-DDA mind you). This movie is packed with so many sarcastic assholes all working together in the same place, I loved it! I loved this movie! Cataloged in my brain as a Stop-Down-And-Watch if it’s on cable. However, my biggest gripe here is that Walter Matthau’s character is named “Zach,” a name that has never once been mistook for Walter Matthau’s; like there’s no way that they had Matthau casted before they came up with his name.

Mad Men, “Signal 30″

Beginning of the end of having any remote kind of sympathy for Pete Campbell. Hitting on high schoolers and shit. He wants so badly to be what he considers to be the best version of himself and will never be there.

Parks And Recreation, “The Set-Up”

Don’t know what it was about this particular viewing, but it landed better than it ever has this time around. Usually when I watch it, Arnett is so distracting and a much different energy than the show has created, but I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard watching this one as I did on this Tuesday morning. 

Wednesday, May 13

California Split, Altman 1974 [as of now this is available on Prime]

Hell yeh. Another movie I’ve been trying to see for a couple of years now, but feels nearly impossible to come across or find (note: to be fair, I have never checked to rent digitally, because I just don’t do that really ever, feels weird I don’t know why) and I found out on Tuesday night that it was put on Amazon Prime almost unceremoniously. I am by no means a gambler, so I have no idea if this is a good gambling movie, but it’s an incredible relationship and addiction movie. My introduction to Elliott Gould was Ocean’s Eleven where he is the opposite and still the same as the characters he played in the 70′s. The man has a debilitating incapacity to be effortlessly cool, even in a movie that he co-stars in with George Segal. I loved this movie.

Mad Men, “Far Away Places”, “At The Codfish Bowl”, “Lady Lazurus”

A great highlight of Don realizing he’s made a huge mistake marrying a 26-year-old. A great highlight of Roger Sterling is great with kids (and their grandmothers!). A great highlight of “Tomorrow Never Knows” fucking rules and uh, maybe wondering if Alexis Bledel is good? (certainly Rory Gilmore is good and it might’ve just been a “choice” to play this character so wooden, especially with what we know comes later on in the season)

Thursday, May 14

Cape Fear, Scorsese 1991

Apparently Spielberg was supposed to do this originally, but thought it was too violent and threw it over to Marty to get Schindler’s back from him (imagine trading those properties amongst yer friends-incredible). What’s real strange here is that he did’t give this to De Palma (I guess because it would’ve been in the wake of Bonfire), but it doesn’t really matter because Marty just goes and makes his version of a De Palma movie. It’s weird! However, when I wasn’t thinking about all of those things and being amazed at how much overt gore there was (overt for a Scorsese movie), I was shocked at the music I associate most with Sidewhow Bob (hold for Gilbert & Sullivan) is actually Max Cady’s music; like I knew that it was just Cape Fear but I had no idea it was just Cape Fear. 

Mad Men, “Dark Shadows”

Can’t go a season without a Don is actually Dick Whitman story/episode. That’s about it.

Friday, May 15

Becoming Mike Nichols, McGarth 2016 [as of now this is available on HBO]

This saved me a lot of time in the long run, should I ever read that new(ish) biography on Mike Nichols. It’s a pretty cut and dry interview focused purely on the prologue of Mike Nichols’s career, that’s a lot more interesting if you’re a theatre kid who doesn’t despise theatre kids (you know the type). Honestly, I was most engaged once Jack O’Brien pivoted towards his directing career outside of the theatre. Also gonna expose my ass here and say I didn’t realize Elaine May was that Elaine May-might’ve been a better interview if it was between two people who’re on equal level rather than a guy trying to kiss Mike Nichols’s and a bunch of theatre kids’ asses.

Mad Men, “Christmas Waltz”

This episode only exists to help punctuate how awful the next episode is, but damn if it’s not weirdly great. The Paul/Harry reunion was such a weird reunion, but only because it reminds you of how much time has passed since the beginning of this show (1960) to when it takes place now (1966); the total shift in aesthetic and thinking is massive, but it never feels shoehorned in.

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 9

Colicchio is pretty adamant about not having past challenges affect the decision of the current week’s choice in terms of sending someone home, but Melissa probably should’ve gone home this week if that were the case. They obviously weren’t going to after kicking Kevin off last week and Malarkey making the least offensive dish of the bottom 3. Melissa’s a front runner, same as Kevin was and you can’t have a competition where Malarkey is on but two frontrunners are kicked off back-to-back weeks (even if it was Kevin falling on his sword). Love Lee Anne, been with her since season 1 and hate to see her go, but she’s bigger than Top Chef-this is a loss that doesn’t make me think less of her.

Saturday, May 16

Notes On An American Film Director At Work, Mekas 2008 [as of now this is available on Vimeo]

I don’t know what to call this, honestly. It’s a videos of Martin Scorsese directing The Departed and it’s kind of fascinating. There are no sit down interviews, but snippets of conversations that you’re just thrown into the middle of. It could be that I just love him so much, but it was reaffirming to see that he (appears to be) is like a genuinely nice person. I don’t read about behind the scenes/making of’s, but I don’t really think he’s got any kind of reputation for being some kind of tyrant on set and this proves it (if he needs that proof for any kind of reason). It is one of those things though where watching actors, uh, act feels kina silly-apologies to Leo DiCaprio.

Mad Men, “The Other Woman”, “Commissions And Fees”, “The Phantom” [season 5 finale], “The Doorway” [season 6 premier], “Collaborators”

An incredibly harrowing stretch of episodes for Mad Men, maybe the best set-up for a finale the show has. The awfulness of the position they thrust Joan into and that Don is the only clear objector to this, be it that he only cares enough about the company is heartbreaking. Christina Hendricks wears so much disappointment and contempt on her face so well and that what happens is sandwiched between those interactions with Don is incredible. And awful. As is Lane’s suicide in the office (I still remember watching this episode for the first time when it aired and it’s as depressing now all these years later as it was back then; Lane and Bodie are probably my top-2 most upsetting television deaths that come to mind). Though it all seems worth it, despite how depressing it might be, for that scene between Peggy and Don where she resigns, an incredible parallel to Megan’s. I’m glad it wasn’t, but if they wanted to series wrap on Peggy there, they could’ve and it would’ve felt so incredibly earned, which you can see through both of those characters trying their hardest to choke down tears through a conversation smothered in so much understood in the unsaid. Now welcome, Bob Benson! (for the life of me, I can’t figure out if they introduce Bob like this intentionally, because it’s so fucking funny in how out of synch it is with everything else going on in the show)

Apocalypse Now, Coppola 1979 [as of now this is available on HBO]

It was either during my sophomore or junior year of high school when I became absolutely enamored with trying to watch this movie. I had built it up to such great heights in my head for whatever reason (I was very concerned with appearing knowledgeable about things like “important movies” and that this didn’t win best picture whatever year it was nominated fueled that fire even more ((I was also very concerned with being outraged over something like this)). I vaguely remember squeezing it in on a school night, but didn’t try and sneak it upstairs to my room to watch, like I tried to get this almost 3½ hour movie in under a reasonable bed time for a high schooler (I definitely didn’t have one, but I remember getting kind of dirty looks around the house if I was still hanging out past 10:30). So it was basically self-inflicted homework at that point, so I remember saying that I liked it, but I don’t know if I honestly believed it. And then that just gets all shaken up in your dumb high school brain that’s already trying it’s best to be super contrarian that you start believing that Apocalypse Now maybe sucks or at the very least isn’t as good as Hearts Of Darkness (a movie you won’t see for another 8 years). I had not watched this movie in its entirety since high school, and I knew all the big beats going into re-watching this, but it might as well have been that I had never seen it before. Man. I was a dumb as hell high schooler. This movie is electric and looks beautiful and I’m so glad that I never watched it all before this and decided to revisit it and I’m now furious at myself for letting the opportunity pass to not see it in theatres when it was remastered last year. 

The Adventures Of Tintin, Spielberg 2011 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

I was reading the oral history of Fury Road earlier that day and it got me really jonsing to watch Fury Road. For my mental health’s sake, I decided to not double feature Apocalypse Now and Fury Road, but rather Apocalypse Now and The Adventures Of Tintin. People of a certain generation really hate this movie and I kind of get it, but this movie rules. There’s maybe two sequences in it that I’d feel unashamed for putting up in the Spielberg Hall Of Fame.

[smartcitygeek-blog]

Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything. C’mon, more, dammit. Jeez. Holy shit. Let’s see if you bastards can do ninety. Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Doc, Doc, it’s me, Marty. Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson. Progress is his middle name. Yeah. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand. Indeed I will, roll em. I, Doctor Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey. What have I been thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back, one pallet one trip I must be out of my mind. What is it Einy? Oh my god, they found me, I don’t know how but they found me. Run for it, Marty.

Just scroll down for more

Well, I figured, what the hell. I, I don’t know. Yeah, yeah what are you wearing, Dave. Mom, Dad. My god, it’s my mother. Put your pants back on.

Uh, well, actually, I figured since it wasn’t due till Monday- Marty, I’m sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning. A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it’s ever gonna strike. Never mind that now, never mind that now. You got a real attitude problem, McFly. You’re a slacker. You remind me of you father when he went her, he was a slacker too.

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What could go wrong there?

This is simply sensational to look at.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

This is a simple photo expressing so much.

A simple, easy to use gadget.

It’s not just a simple theme

C’mon, c’mon. Hi, Marty. Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. What did she say? It’s your mom, she’s tracked you down. Quick, let’s cover the time machine. C’mon.

Alright, take it up, go. Doc. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. I’ll call you tonight. C’mon, open up, let me out of here, Yo. I have to tell you about the future.

Great Scott. Let me see that photograph again of your brother. Just as I thought, this proves my theory, look at your brother. Yes, yes, I’m George, George McFly, and I’m your density. I mean, I’m your destiny. Well, ma, we talked about this, we’re not gonna go to the lake, the car’s wrecked. Okay. What were you doing in the middle of the street, a kid your age.

Sit here, Marty. How’s your head? What’s going on? Where have you been all week? Marty, you made it. Excuse me.

Another thing is

Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, great, you’re alive. Do you know where 1640 Riverside- Yeah Mom, we know, you’ve told us this story a million times. You felt sorry for him so you decided to go with him to The Fish Under The Sea Dance. Oh. Ah, where’re my pants? You okay, is everything alright?

Just finishing up the second coat now. Just finishing up the second coat now. Yeah, I think it’s a major embarrassment having an uncle in prison. Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here. Well it’s gonna cost you. How much money you got on you? The keys are in the trunk. Hey. Thank god I still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I’m wearing? You got a permit for that? What was it, George, bird watching? Unroll their fire. Jennifer, oh are you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you. Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape, we’ll proceed. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Mom, Dad. Without any sugar.

A mosaic gallery style

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Having a good time.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

Looking solo.

Caption this.

Having a good time.

Oh, that is simply very cool.

Doc? Am I to understand you’re still hanging around with Doctor Emmett Brown, McFly? Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker. And one for you McFly I believe that makes four in a row. Now let me give you a nickle’s worth of advice, young man. This so called Doctor Brown is dangerous, he’s a real nuttcase. You hang around with him you’re gonna end up in big trouble. Wait a minute. How’s your head? Okay Doc, this is it. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new.

[ts_row] [ts_one_half]Kids, we’re gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves, Uncle Joey didn’t make parole again. I think it would be nice, if you all dropped him a line. Breakfast. That Biff, what a character. Always trying to get away with something. Been on top of Biff ever since high school. Although, if it wasn’t for him- Hey man, look at Marvin’s hand. He can’t play with his hands like that, and we can’t play without him. When could weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future. [/ts_one_half] [ts_one_half]McFly. Hey wait, wait a minute, who are you? Stella, another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car. Come on out here, help me take him in the house. Okay, that’s enough. Now stop the microphone. I’m sorry fellas. I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next, please. Where’s the next group, please. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. Hey c’mon, I had to change, you think I’m going back in that zoot suit? The old man really came through it worked.[/ts_one_half] [/ts_row]

  I’m gonna ram him. What the hell is a gigawatt? No, no, George, look, it’s just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you’re strolling through the parking lot, you see us struggling in the car, you walk up, you open the door and you say, your line, George. Well, because George, nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them. Why thank you, Marty. George. Good morning, sleepyhead, Good morning, Dave, Lynda.

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Reasons to do this things

That’s true, Marty, I think you should spend the night. I think you’re our responsibility. What Lorraine, what? Marty, such a nice name. Please note that Einstein’s clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch. That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly.

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It’s information about the future isn’t it. I warned you about this kid. The consequences could be disastrous. Alright, I’m ready. Leave her alone, you bastard. You bet. Alright, McFly, you’re asking for it, and now you’re gonna get it. Doc, you gotta help me. you were the only one who knows how your time machine works. Doc, she didn’t even look at him. Now, Biff, um, can I assume that your insurance is gonna pay for the damage? That’s a great idea. I’d love to park. Hey George, heard you laid out Biff, nice going.

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I don’t know, I can’t keep up with all of your boyfriends. No, Doc. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Right. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand.

What You Need To Know About Technology And Why Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything.

[wavenetinfo]

Spoiler alert! This article contains details from the second episode of season 2 of Wynonna Earp — so quickly get to another page if you haven’t watched “Shed Your Skin,” because you won’t be able to unmake your peace. 

If Wynonna Earp didn’t have problems with spiders before, she sure does now. The latest episode of the Syfy series saw her and Waverly take on a hoard of eight-legged creepy crawlies, only to discover there’s something more sinister (possibly demonic) at play. Not to mention the fact she might be seeing Willa’s ghost, and that Doc appears to be pulling away, both emotionally and in terms of physical revenant-hunting support.

Elsewhere, Agent Lucado, who’s now running the team, has contracted hitmen to take out Dolls (who’s easily dodging her) and struck an under-the-table deal with Doc. As for the mustachioed, still hat-less former sharpshooter, he’s secretly recruited newcomer Rosita to help him with some secret plan in a lab set up under the bar. Meanwhile, Waverly continued digging into her past trying to verify whether she’s truly an Earp, a process that saw her make up with her girlfriend Nicole Haught and consummate their relationship. But fans might have reason to worry: the final shot of the episode saw the youngest Earp (who’s still possessed by the goo she touched at the end of last season) go into “goo mode” and bite into the carcass of the dead spider they’d collected for Black Badge earlier in the episode.

Here, executive producer Emily Andras discusses some of the big moments in “Shed Your Skin.” Plus watch an exclusive video featuring Andras and series star Melanie Scrofano discussing Mercedes Gardner, a new character on the show, and Wynonna’s friend.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Compared to some of the other creatures we’ve seen in Purgatory so far, how powerful is whatever is in Waverly? EMILY ANDRAS: It’s definitely a threat. How powerful is it? It’s hard to say, but it’s definitely an alpha. It’s a predator.

And then we have Doc, who hasn’t quite replaced his hat yet. What gives? I know! Hatgate 2017. I swear, there’s going to be candlelight vigils, black armbands, people saying “Remember the Hat.” The only thing worse than if he lost his hat was if he shaved his mustache, but you got to save something for future seasons! Listen, Tim Rozon is a very good-looking man. Doc’s doing just fine, but here’s hoping that there’s some sort of reunion with some sort of headwear at some point.

We saw a lot of him and Wynonna’s new dynamic, where he seems to kind of be pulling away from her a little. Is that strictly because he’s still hurt he saw her kiss Dolls, or is that because of the new deal with Lucado? It’s a little bit of both. They just haven’t had time to kind of digest [that kiss]. Doc is a proud dude and he spent a lot of time pursuing Wynonna last year, but he’s a real manly man. I just don’t know if he wants to be anyone’s second choice. And he just knows that maybe she needs some time after killing her sister too. But also maybe he’s hurt. It’s a little bit of everything. Like all the best relationships, it’s complicated.

I especially like that we’ve now seen he’s very in tune with her feelings, even if she really hasn’t gotten there yet. That’s it. He almost reads her better than she reads herself. He definitely knew last episode that them going for a tryst in the shower was just not a great idea. It just didn’t come from a really genuine place versus a broken place. I like that he’s mature. He’s 150 years old. I feel like even after that much time, I might become a grown up, maybe. I don’t know, though. I doubt it. But he just does kind of have a sophistication and maturity to know, maybe, what she’s feeling even before she herself understands it.

What does it mean for Wynonna to have someone who can tell her when she’s not in a good place right now? It’s critical. As much as she might hate it and resents him and is furious at him in the short term, she definitely knows, in the long term, that Doc has her best interests at heart and that he does know her. They are so similar in temperament. They’re not sure that, deep down, they’re good people. They don’t hate the violence and the action and the grit. They get off on that. They’re adrenaline junkies, so it’s almost too honest, just because they’re mirror images of one another in so many ways. But Wynonna, more than ever, needs people who are going to be honest with her and what she’s going through and what she needs to succeed. So like I said, short-term pain, long-term gain, like the hat. And then we have Agent Lucado. She’s gunning for Dolls independently of Black Badge, but now she also has this other deal with Doc. Where do her motivations lie? Lucado shouldn’t be underestimated. She’s wildly ambitious and knows how to play the game. But she obviously has some personal stake in bringing Dolls down, which makes her really, really dangerous. She’s not that interested in being a good boss to Wynonna and the rest of the Scooby gang. She’s basically just biding her time and trying to figure out a way to get out of Purgatory. But because of that, she’s going to put everybody in a lot of danger, because she’s not really looking out for them or she doesn’t have their back. Dolls did, even as he was so annoying and kind of tightly wound.

We also have Rosita, who we just finally met. What can you tease about her? Is she going to fit into the group? She’s intriguing and alluring, just basically based on the fact that she’s freaking gorgeous. Doc obviously knows her. He seems to know her and what she kind of brings to the table, which is she’s some sort of chemist or biochemist. But at the same time, she doesn’t really seem to like Doc. He ultimately basically blackmails her into working for him, so whether she fits exactly into the team or not, you’re just going to have to wait and see.

We see Waverly investigating her past and it is affecting her, the fact that she might not be an Earp, but it feels like if she told Wynonna, Wynonna wouldn’t care. Would that be the case? I don’t know if that’s true. Wynonna has killed her own dad. She’s killed her older sister. All she has left is Waverly. So as much as Wynonna is open-minded, Waverly understands that their sisterhood is an incredibly important part of their lives. It’s what Wynonna’s holding on to right now. I agree with you that sisterhood is so much more than blood but I also don’t think Waverly wants to freak out Wynonna until she knows for sure one way or the other. Given all that Wynonna has gone through lately, Waverly is like, I just want to have all my ducks in a row before I bring this up.

I love that she’s trusted Nicole with this information and has her to help her with this. It’s another level of their relationship — she knows Nicole has her back and won’t judge her. Nicole’s emphasis is to make Waverly happy and support her. It was so nice that even though they had their first fight, it only made them closer and stronger and bond. It’s starting to feel like a real relationship. They’re going from the passion and the dating, although that’s all there, and they’re really connecting. I love that.

How did you know you wanted them to have a big fight going into this season as opposed to building into it? If you really look at it, they got together pretty quickly last season. All these crazy events happened but they haven’t really had time to just start their relationship. Ultimately it was a fight about Nicole’s career; she’s been denied a promotion that’s really important to her, which just serves, again, to make Nicole more of a three-dimensional character. I don’t want her to just be the girlfriend. Also, that’s what couples fight about. They don’t just fight about being lesbians or being gay or fighting demons. They fight about taxes and dishes and career and different wants and needs. It’s always been really important to me that they’re both three-dimensional characters who have real relationship challenges both supernatural and natural. Your first fight and your first makeup is such a rite of passage that it really deepens the relationship and it shows that, this year, they’re taking it to the next level.

Are there any milestones in the Wayhaught relationship that you’re very excited to tackle this season? This was the first time they’ve actually consummated their relationship. Things have been so busy that this was the first time Waverly would say they’ve had sex, which was kind of important to tackle just in so far as one of the hallmarks of Nicole’s character is she’s so respectful of Waverly discovering herself. Nicole makes no apologies for her desires and her passion for Waverly but she really lets Waverly drive the sexy bus, so to speak. That was a good, important milestone. And having their first fight was good. But also, obviously, we have a Waverly who is affected by some sort of entity. We’re really going to have to see how well Nicole thinks she knows Waverly. When is it Waverly and when is it not and is Nicole going to be able to suss that out? How well do these two really know each other and can they come together now as people, not just as lovers?

Is there anything you could possibly tease about if Dolls might be coming back? Don’t keep a good lizard down. That’s all I’ll say about that. Never count out a lizard man. Embroider that on a pillow.

Wynonna Earp airs Fridays at 10 p.m. ET on Syfy.

17 June 2017 | 3:03 am

Nivea Serrao

Source : Entertainment Weekly

>>>Click Here To View Original Press Release>>>

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[smartcitygeek-blog]

Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything. C’mon, more, dammit. Jeez. Holy shit. Let’s see if you bastards can do ninety. Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Doc, Doc, it’s me, Marty. Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson. Progress is his middle name. Yeah. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand. Indeed I will, roll em. I, Doctor Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey. What have I been thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back, one pallet one trip I must be out of my mind. What is it Einy? Oh my god, they found me, I don’t know how but they found me. Run for it, Marty.

Just scroll down for more

Well, I figured, what the hell. I, I don’t know. Yeah, yeah what are you wearing, Dave. Mom, Dad. My god, it’s my mother. Put your pants back on.

Uh, well, actually, I figured since it wasn’t due till Monday- Marty, I’m sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning. A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it’s ever gonna strike. Never mind that now, never mind that now. You got a real attitude problem, McFly. You’re a slacker. You remind me of you father when he went her, he was a slacker too.

#gallery-0-9 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-9 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

What could go wrong there?

This is simply sensational to look at.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

This is a simple photo expressing so much.

A simple, easy to use gadget.

It’s not just a simple theme

C’mon, c’mon. Hi, Marty. Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. What did she say? It’s your mom, she’s tracked you down. Quick, let’s cover the time machine. C’mon.

Alright, take it up, go. Doc. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. I’ll call you tonight. C’mon, open up, let me out of here, Yo. I have to tell you about the future.

Great Scott. Let me see that photograph again of your brother. Just as I thought, this proves my theory, look at your brother. Yes, yes, I’m George, George McFly, and I’m your density. I mean, I’m your destiny. Well, ma, we talked about this, we’re not gonna go to the lake, the car’s wrecked. Okay. What were you doing in the middle of the street, a kid your age.

Sit here, Marty. How’s your head? What’s going on? Where have you been all week? Marty, you made it. Excuse me.

Another thing is

Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, great, you’re alive. Do you know where 1640 Riverside- Yeah Mom, we know, you’ve told us this story a million times. You felt sorry for him so you decided to go with him to The Fish Under The Sea Dance. Oh. Ah, where’re my pants? You okay, is everything alright?

Just finishing up the second coat now. Just finishing up the second coat now. Yeah, I think it’s a major embarrassment having an uncle in prison. Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here. Well it’s gonna cost you. How much money you got on you? The keys are in the trunk. Hey. Thank god I still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I’m wearing? You got a permit for that? What was it, George, bird watching? Unroll their fire. Jennifer, oh are you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you. Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape, we’ll proceed. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Mom, Dad. Without any sugar.

A mosaic gallery style

#gallery-0-10 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-10 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Having a good time.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

Looking solo.

Caption this.

Having a good time.

Oh, that is simply very cool.

Doc? Am I to understand you’re still hanging around with Doctor Emmett Brown, McFly? Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker. And one for you McFly I believe that makes four in a row. Now let me give you a nickle’s worth of advice, young man. This so called Doctor Brown is dangerous, he’s a real nuttcase. You hang around with him you’re gonna end up in big trouble. Wait a minute. How’s your head? Okay Doc, this is it. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new.

[ts_row] [ts_one_half]Kids, we’re gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves, Uncle Joey didn’t make parole again. I think it would be nice, if you all dropped him a line. Breakfast. That Biff, what a character. Always trying to get away with something. Been on top of Biff ever since high school. Although, if it wasn’t for him- Hey man, look at Marvin’s hand. He can’t play with his hands like that, and we can’t play without him. When could weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future. [/ts_one_half] [ts_one_half]McFly. Hey wait, wait a minute, who are you? Stella, another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car. Come on out here, help me take him in the house. Okay, that’s enough. Now stop the microphone. I’m sorry fellas. I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next, please. Where’s the next group, please. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. Hey c’mon, I had to change, you think I’m going back in that zoot suit? The old man really came through it worked.[/ts_one_half] [/ts_row]

  I’m gonna ram him. What the hell is a gigawatt? No, no, George, look, it’s just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you’re strolling through the parking lot, you see us struggling in the car, you walk up, you open the door and you say, your line, George. Well, because George, nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them. Why thank you, Marty. George. Good morning, sleepyhead, Good morning, Dave, Lynda.

So you’re a cool fashion & style blogger? Why not have the coolest website for you and your visitors? Check out this amazing WordPress Theme which will supercharge your website options: Venosa. Want more? Check out the demo here: https://t.co/n0t6GbpiZC pic.twitter.com/EZRswYJj1Y

— Touch Size (@touchsize) May 17, 2018

Reasons to do this things

That’s true, Marty, I think you should spend the night. I think you’re our responsibility. What Lorraine, what? Marty, such a nice name. Please note that Einstein’s clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch. That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly.

Drag and drop layout builder

Almost all builder elements available as shortcodes

Easily create any page layout you wish

Unlimited colors options for your website

It’s information about the future isn’t it. I warned you about this kid. The consequences could be disastrous. Alright, I’m ready. Leave her alone, you bastard. You bet. Alright, McFly, you’re asking for it, and now you’re gonna get it. Doc, you gotta help me. you were the only one who knows how your time machine works. Doc, she didn’t even look at him. Now, Biff, um, can I assume that your insurance is gonna pay for the damage? That’s a great idea. I’d love to park. Hey George, heard you laid out Biff, nice going.

[ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Get the right link” description=”Haha, just kidding. There is not link here, just a toggle demo.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle][ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Second toggle shortcode” description=”Enjoy your toggle shortcode here.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle]

I don’t know, I can’t keep up with all of your boyfriends. No, Doc. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Right. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand.

What You Can Do About Starting In The Next 10 Minutes Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything.

[smartcitygeek-blog]

Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything. C’mon, more, dammit. Jeez. Holy shit. Let’s see if you bastards can do ninety. Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Doc, Doc, it’s me, Marty. Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson. Progress is his middle name. Yeah. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand. Indeed I will, roll em. I, Doctor Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey. What have I been thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back, one pallet one trip I must be out of my mind. What is it Einy? Oh my god, they found me, I don’t know how but they found me. Run for it, Marty.

Just scroll down for more

Well, I figured, what the hell. I, I don’t know. Yeah, yeah what are you wearing, Dave. Mom, Dad. My god, it’s my mother. Put your pants back on.

Uh, well, actually, I figured since it wasn’t due till Monday- Marty, I’m sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning. A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it’s ever gonna strike. Never mind that now, never mind that now. You got a real attitude problem, McFly. You’re a slacker. You remind me of you father when he went her, he was a slacker too.

#gallery-0-9 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-9 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

What could go wrong there?

This is simply sensational to look at.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

This is a simple photo expressing so much.

A simple, easy to use gadget.

It’s not just a simple theme

C’mon, c’mon. Hi, Marty. Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. What did she say? It’s your mom, she’s tracked you down. Quick, let’s cover the time machine. C’mon.

Alright, take it up, go. Doc. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. I’ll call you tonight. C’mon, open up, let me out of here, Yo. I have to tell you about the future.

Great Scott. Let me see that photograph again of your brother. Just as I thought, this proves my theory, look at your brother. Yes, yes, I’m George, George McFly, and I’m your density. I mean, I’m your destiny. Well, ma, we talked about this, we’re not gonna go to the lake, the car’s wrecked. Okay. What were you doing in the middle of the street, a kid your age.

Sit here, Marty. How’s your head? What’s going on? Where have you been all week? Marty, you made it. Excuse me.

Another thing is

Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, great, you’re alive. Do you know where 1640 Riverside- Yeah Mom, we know, you’ve told us this story a million times. You felt sorry for him so you decided to go with him to The Fish Under The Sea Dance. Oh. Ah, where’re my pants? You okay, is everything alright?

Just finishing up the second coat now. Just finishing up the second coat now. Yeah, I think it’s a major embarrassment having an uncle in prison. Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here. Well it’s gonna cost you. How much money you got on you? The keys are in the trunk. Hey. Thank god I still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I’m wearing? You got a permit for that? What was it, George, bird watching? Unroll their fire. Jennifer, oh are you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you. Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape, we’ll proceed. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Mom, Dad. Without any sugar.

A mosaic gallery style

#gallery-0-10 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-10 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Having a good time.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

Looking solo.

Caption this.

Having a good time.

Oh, that is simply very cool.

Doc? Am I to understand you’re still hanging around with Doctor Emmett Brown, McFly? Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker. And one for you McFly I believe that makes four in a row. Now let me give you a nickle’s worth of advice, young man. This so called Doctor Brown is dangerous, he’s a real nuttcase. You hang around with him you’re gonna end up in big trouble. Wait a minute. How’s your head? Okay Doc, this is it. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new.

[ts_row] [ts_one_half]Kids, we’re gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves, Uncle Joey didn’t make parole again. I think it would be nice, if you all dropped him a line. Breakfast. That Biff, what a character. Always trying to get away with something. Been on top of Biff ever since high school. Although, if it wasn’t for him- Hey man, look at Marvin’s hand. He can’t play with his hands like that, and we can’t play without him. When could weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future. [/ts_one_half] [ts_one_half]McFly. Hey wait, wait a minute, who are you? Stella, another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car. Come on out here, help me take him in the house. Okay, that’s enough. Now stop the microphone. I’m sorry fellas. I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next, please. Where’s the next group, please. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. Hey c’mon, I had to change, you think I’m going back in that zoot suit? The old man really came through it worked.[/ts_one_half] [/ts_row]

  I’m gonna ram him. What the hell is a gigawatt? No, no, George, look, it’s just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you’re strolling through the parking lot, you see us struggling in the car, you walk up, you open the door and you say, your line, George. Well, because George, nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them. Why thank you, Marty. George. Good morning, sleepyhead, Good morning, Dave, Lynda.

So you’re a cool fashion & style blogger? Why not have the coolest website for you and your visitors? Check out this amazing WordPress Theme which will supercharge your website options: Venosa. Want more? Check out the demo here: https://t.co/n0t6GbpiZC pic.twitter.com/EZRswYJj1Y

— Touch Size (@touchsize) May 17, 2018

Reasons to do this things

That’s true, Marty, I think you should spend the night. I think you’re our responsibility. What Lorraine, what? Marty, such a nice name. Please note that Einstein’s clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch. That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly.

Drag and drop layout builder

Almost all builder elements available as shortcodes

Easily create any page layout you wish

Unlimited colors options for your website

It’s information about the future isn’t it. I warned you about this kid. The consequences could be disastrous. Alright, I’m ready. Leave her alone, you bastard. You bet. Alright, McFly, you’re asking for it, and now you’re gonna get it. Doc, you gotta help me. you were the only one who knows how your time machine works. Doc, she didn’t even look at him. Now, Biff, um, can I assume that your insurance is gonna pay for the damage? That’s a great idea. I’d love to park. Hey George, heard you laid out Biff, nice going.

[ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Get the right link” description=”Haha, just kidding. There is not link here, just a toggle demo.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle][ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Second toggle shortcode” description=”Enjoy your toggle shortcode here.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle]

I don’t know, I can’t keep up with all of your boyfriends. No, Doc. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Right. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand.

The most advanced breakthrough in technology is about to happen Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything.

[smartcitygeek-blog]

Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything. C’mon, more, dammit. Jeez. Holy shit. Let’s see if you bastards can do ninety. Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Doc, Doc, it’s me, Marty. Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson. Progress is his middle name. Yeah. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand. Indeed I will, roll em. I, Doctor Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey. What have I been thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back, one pallet one trip I must be out of my mind. What is it Einy? Oh my god, they found me, I don’t know how but they found me. Run for it, Marty.

Just scroll down for more

Well, I figured, what the hell. I, I don’t know. Yeah, yeah what are you wearing, Dave. Mom, Dad. My god, it’s my mother. Put your pants back on.

Uh, well, actually, I figured since it wasn’t due till Monday- Marty, I’m sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning. A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it’s ever gonna strike. Never mind that now, never mind that now. You got a real attitude problem, McFly. You’re a slacker. You remind me of you father when he went her, he was a slacker too.

#gallery-0-9 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-9 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

What could go wrong there?

This is simply sensational to look at.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

This is a simple photo expressing so much.

A simple, easy to use gadget.

It’s not just a simple theme

C’mon, c’mon. Hi, Marty. Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. What did she say? It’s your mom, she’s tracked you down. Quick, let’s cover the time machine. C’mon.

Alright, take it up, go. Doc. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. I’ll call you tonight. C’mon, open up, let me out of here, Yo. I have to tell you about the future.

Great Scott. Let me see that photograph again of your brother. Just as I thought, this proves my theory, look at your brother. Yes, yes, I’m George, George McFly, and I’m your density. I mean, I’m your destiny. Well, ma, we talked about this, we’re not gonna go to the lake, the car’s wrecked. Okay. What were you doing in the middle of the street, a kid your age.

Sit here, Marty. How’s your head? What’s going on? Where have you been all week? Marty, you made it. Excuse me.

Another thing is

Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, great, you’re alive. Do you know where 1640 Riverside- Yeah Mom, we know, you’ve told us this story a million times. You felt sorry for him so you decided to go with him to The Fish Under The Sea Dance. Oh. Ah, where’re my pants? You okay, is everything alright?

Just finishing up the second coat now. Just finishing up the second coat now. Yeah, I think it’s a major embarrassment having an uncle in prison. Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here. Well it’s gonna cost you. How much money you got on you? The keys are in the trunk. Hey. Thank god I still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I’m wearing? You got a permit for that? What was it, George, bird watching? Unroll their fire. Jennifer, oh are you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you. Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape, we’ll proceed. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Mom, Dad. Without any sugar.

A mosaic gallery style

#gallery-0-10 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-10 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Having a good time.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

Looking solo.

Caption this.

Having a good time.

Oh, that is simply very cool.

Doc? Am I to understand you’re still hanging around with Doctor Emmett Brown, McFly? Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker. And one for you McFly I believe that makes four in a row. Now let me give you a nickle’s worth of advice, young man. This so called Doctor Brown is dangerous, he’s a real nuttcase. You hang around with him you’re gonna end up in big trouble. Wait a minute. How’s your head? Okay Doc, this is it. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new.

[ts_row] [ts_one_half]Kids, we’re gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves, Uncle Joey didn’t make parole again. I think it would be nice, if you all dropped him a line. Breakfast. That Biff, what a character. Always trying to get away with something. Been on top of Biff ever since high school. Although, if it wasn’t for him- Hey man, look at Marvin’s hand. He can’t play with his hands like that, and we can’t play without him. When could weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future. [/ts_one_half] [ts_one_half]McFly. Hey wait, wait a minute, who are you? Stella, another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car. Come on out here, help me take him in the house. Okay, that’s enough. Now stop the microphone. I’m sorry fellas. I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next, please. Where’s the next group, please. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. Hey c’mon, I had to change, you think I’m going back in that zoot suit? The old man really came through it worked.[/ts_one_half] [/ts_row]

  I’m gonna ram him. What the hell is a gigawatt? No, no, George, look, it’s just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you’re strolling through the parking lot, you see us struggling in the car, you walk up, you open the door and you say, your line, George. Well, because George, nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them. Why thank you, Marty. George. Good morning, sleepyhead, Good morning, Dave, Lynda.

So you’re a cool fashion & style blogger? Why not have the coolest website for you and your visitors? Check out this amazing WordPress Theme which will supercharge your website options: Venosa. Want more? Check out the demo here: https://t.co/n0t6GbpiZC pic.twitter.com/EZRswYJj1Y

— Touch Size (@touchsize) May 17, 2018

Reasons to do this things

That’s true, Marty, I think you should spend the night. I think you’re our responsibility. What Lorraine, what? Marty, such a nice name. Please note that Einstein’s clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch. That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly.

Drag and drop layout builder

Almost all builder elements available as shortcodes

Easily create any page layout you wish

Unlimited colors options for your website

It’s information about the future isn’t it. I warned you about this kid. The consequences could be disastrous. Alright, I’m ready. Leave her alone, you bastard. You bet. Alright, McFly, you’re asking for it, and now you’re gonna get it. Doc, you gotta help me. you were the only one who knows how your time machine works. Doc, she didn’t even look at him. Now, Biff, um, can I assume that your insurance is gonna pay for the damage? That’s a great idea. I’d love to park. Hey George, heard you laid out Biff, nice going.

[ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Get the right link” description=”Haha, just kidding. There is not link here, just a toggle demo.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle][ts_toggle admin-label=”Toggle” element-icon=”bicon-toggle” title=”Second toggle shortcode” description=”Enjoy your toggle shortcode here.” state=”closed” reveal-effect=”none” reveal-delay=”delay-500″ element-type=”toggle” custom-classes=”” node-id=”1533283028zjstb” lg=”y” md=”y” sm=”y” xs=”y” ][/ts_toggle]

I don’t know, I can’t keep up with all of your boyfriends. No, Doc. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Right. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand.

Tourists are being blown away by this attraction. See why here! Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything.

[smartcitygeek-blog]

Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything. C’mon, more, dammit. Jeez. Holy shit. Let’s see if you bastards can do ninety. Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Doc, Doc, it’s me, Marty. Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson. Progress is his middle name. Yeah. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand. Indeed I will, roll em. I, Doctor Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey. What have I been thinking of, I almost forgot to bring some extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back, one pallet one trip I must be out of my mind. What is it Einy? Oh my god, they found me, I don’t know how but they found me. Run for it, Marty.

Just scroll down for more

Well, I figured, what the hell. I, I don’t know. Yeah, yeah what are you wearing, Dave. Mom, Dad. My god, it’s my mother. Put your pants back on.

Uh, well, actually, I figured since it wasn’t due till Monday- Marty, I’m sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning. A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it’s ever gonna strike. Never mind that now, never mind that now. You got a real attitude problem, McFly. You’re a slacker. You remind me of you father when he went her, he was a slacker too.

#gallery-0-9 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-9 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-9 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

What could go wrong there?

This is simply sensational to look at.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

This is a simple photo expressing so much.

A simple, easy to use gadget.

It’s not just a simple theme

C’mon, c’mon. Hi, Marty. Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. What did she say? It’s your mom, she’s tracked you down. Quick, let’s cover the time machine. C’mon.

Alright, take it up, go. Doc. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. I’ll call you tonight. C’mon, open up, let me out of here, Yo. I have to tell you about the future.

Great Scott. Let me see that photograph again of your brother. Just as I thought, this proves my theory, look at your brother. Yes, yes, I’m George, George McFly, and I’m your density. I mean, I’m your destiny. Well, ma, we talked about this, we’re not gonna go to the lake, the car’s wrecked. Okay. What were you doing in the middle of the street, a kid your age.

Sit here, Marty. How’s your head? What’s going on? Where have you been all week? Marty, you made it. Excuse me.

Another thing is

Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, Brown, great, you’re alive. Do you know where 1640 Riverside- Yeah Mom, we know, you’ve told us this story a million times. You felt sorry for him so you decided to go with him to The Fish Under The Sea Dance. Oh. Ah, where’re my pants? You okay, is everything alright?

Just finishing up the second coat now. Just finishing up the second coat now. Yeah, I think it’s a major embarrassment having an uncle in prison. Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here. Well it’s gonna cost you. How much money you got on you? The keys are in the trunk. Hey. Thank god I still got my hair. What on Earth is that thing I’m wearing? You got a permit for that? What was it, George, bird watching? Unroll their fire. Jennifer, oh are you a sight for sore eyes. Let me look at you. Bear with me, Marty, all of your questions will be answered. Roll tape, we’ll proceed. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Mom, Dad. Without any sugar.

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Having a good time.

Depression is not interesting.

Oh, that top photo is great.

Looking solo.

Caption this.

Having a good time.

Oh, that is simply very cool.

Doc? Am I to understand you’re still hanging around with Doctor Emmett Brown, McFly? Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker. And one for you McFly I believe that makes four in a row. Now let me give you a nickle’s worth of advice, young man. This so called Doctor Brown is dangerous, he’s a real nuttcase. You hang around with him you’re gonna end up in big trouble. Wait a minute. How’s your head? Okay Doc, this is it. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new.

[ts_row] [ts_one_half]Kids, we’re gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves, Uncle Joey didn’t make parole again. I think it would be nice, if you all dropped him a line. Breakfast. That Biff, what a character. Always trying to get away with something. Been on top of Biff ever since high school. Although, if it wasn’t for him- Hey man, look at Marvin’s hand. He can’t play with his hands like that, and we can’t play without him. When could weathermen predict the weather, let alone the future. [/ts_one_half] [ts_one_half]McFly. Hey wait, wait a minute, who are you? Stella, another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car. Come on out here, help me take him in the house. Okay, that’s enough. Now stop the microphone. I’m sorry fellas. I’m afraid you’re just too darn loud. Next, please. Where’s the next group, please. Yeah well, I saw it on a rerun. Hey c’mon, I had to change, you think I’m going back in that zoot suit? The old man really came through it worked.[/ts_one_half] [/ts_row]

  I’m gonna ram him. What the hell is a gigawatt? No, no, George, look, it’s just an act, right? Okay, so 9:00 you’re strolling through the parking lot, you see us struggling in the car, you walk up, you open the door and you say, your line, George. Well, because George, nice girls get angry when guys take advantage of them. Why thank you, Marty. George. Good morning, sleepyhead, Good morning, Dave, Lynda.

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— Touch Size (@touchsize) May 17, 2018

Reasons to do this things

That’s true, Marty, I think you should spend the night. I think you’re our responsibility. What Lorraine, what? Marty, such a nice name. Please note that Einstein’s clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch. That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly.

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It’s information about the future isn’t it. I warned you about this kid. The consequences could be disastrous. Alright, I’m ready. Leave her alone, you bastard. You bet. Alright, McFly, you’re asking for it, and now you’re gonna get it. Doc, you gotta help me. you were the only one who knows how your time machine works. Doc, she didn’t even look at him. Now, Biff, um, can I assume that your insurance is gonna pay for the damage? That’s a great idea. I’d love to park. Hey George, heard you laid out Biff, nice going.

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I don’t know, I can’t keep up with all of your boyfriends. No, Doc. What do you mean you’ve seen this, it’s brand new. Right. Well, what if they didn’t like them, what if they told me I was no good. I guess that would be pretty hard for somebody to understand.

Iceland is getting over populated and a crysis started there last year Einstein, hey Einstein, where's the Doc, boy, huh? Doc Never mind that, never mind that now, never mind that, never mind- Yeah I know, If you put your mind to it you could accomplish anything.