#last time it did send but I would really love confirmation via the little pop up message you know?

[chaotikanvas]

Tumblr pls let me know if my asks send or not I'm on my knees here

[sunnysidekit]

Summary: The road to loving Frankie Morales is tough, but you’d do it all again if you had to. And again, and again, and again…

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: Language, major character death but not the permanent kind, (this is literally just a series of au’s in which the reader becomes kind of self-aware), nondescriptive smut (minors, please skip this one!).

Word count: 2.6k

A/N at the end

My masterlist

“Hey,” Frankie shouts, his voice only just carrying over the heavy rain. “Hey, wait up!”

You glance back at him over your shoulder, but you don’t stop running. You can’t stop running. Not after what just happened. Why did you decide to tell him how you felt about him, again? Worst decision of your life.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts again, even louder this time. He’s quickly gaining on you; blame that on his Delta training. You keep running, looking left and right for a spot between the old buildings to shelter from the rain. Something just big enough for one person to hide from their best friend would be great, but you doubt you’ll find a spot like that.

Just when you spot an alcove the size of a small closet you step into a puddle that’s way deeper than it looks, and you smack against the pavement.

You hear Frankie curse from behind you, the splashing of his boots in the puddles getting louder and louder until he stops right next to you and crouches down to help you up. You let out a painful groan when he lifts you off the ground, your arms flailing around unwittingly until you manage to grasp onto his soaked flannel.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, Frankie,” you say with a sniffle. “Look, I know that just because I feel a certain way, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” Frankie grins. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words! I’d given up all hope you’d ever say them, so,” he shifts to hold you closer to his chest, “I was a bit shocked, is all.”

You blink up at him dumbfounded as lightning flashes behind him, bathing the two of you in a heavenly light for just a moment. Before you realize what you’re doing, you grab his face and crash your lips into his with a passion you never knew you were capable of. He hums against your lips and you smile; this kiss is better than whatever you imagined it could be.

The rain washes over you and makes goosebumps pop up all over your skin, though that could also be from the intensity with which Frankie kisses you. His nose bumps against yours as he deepens it and something starts to blossom up in your belly, a tingling spreading from your sides all the way to your fingertips. After what feels like an eternity, he lets you go, the both of you breathing hard and haggard.

“Holy shit,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re both incredibly stupid, aren’t we?”

“Speak for yourself. I’d do it all again if this is what I get for it.”

Frankie laughs breathlessly and you can’t help but join him. All the anxiety in your body has transformed into exhilaration; you throw your head back and let the raindrops splatter onto your face freely when suddenly another flash of lightning strikes, this time so close you can almost feel it burn your skin. Hey, wait… why doesn’t it stop?

The burning sensation digs deeper into your skin and you snap your head back to look at Frankie, but he’s still laughing. You try to reach out and grab his shoulder, but something’s wrong with your hand. It’s- it’s shredding, your fingers flaking off and burning up in the air as you yell out, horrified at the sight.

Frankie doesn’t notice it when you feel yourself losing weight and floating upward, memories flurrying around you in the ash you’re slowly becoming. He doesn’t notice it when you get sucked higher and higher into the air, screaming his name and pleading him to help you. He doesn’t even notice it when you gasp in one last breath before the stinging headache you’ve developed in the last few seconds overwhelms you completely and you feel your consciousness slipping away.

You jerk awake. Holy stars, that wasn’t a normal nightmare. Where in Newton’s name did that even come from? Rain? It never rains here on the SS Endeavour, you’re in space. All the rain you’ve ever seen has all been via holovids. It did feel oddly realistic, though. Kind of like déjà vu. You stretch out your arms above your head and yawn; maybe you did drink a bit too much last night.

But that kiss… why would you ever kiss officer Morales? Sure, you’re friends. You’re his copilot, for Newton’s sake. But he’s far too mission oriented to even consider romantic relationships. At least, that’s what he says. You’d agree with him, if only he wasn’t obviously lying.

“Stars, would you hurry up already?”

You jump out of your bunk at the sound of Ava’s voice and start changing into your overalls, but it’s no use-- she’s already seen you.

“I don’t want to have to skip breakfast again because you can’t be bothered to get up when the alarm goes off.”

“Oh, stop worrying about your breakfast. I’m sure you still have some extra bread rolls in your secret hiding spot.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that claim,” Ava says, but she’s got a twinkle in her eye. She’s such a bad lair. You step into your shoes, the soft hiss of the self-tying mechanism a nice reassurance of the fact that you’re not dreaming anymore.

“When commander Penn finds out you’ve been using his second wall safe to hide food, you’re getting an instant demotion,” you say. “You do know that, right?”

“It’s so sweet you still think that’s where I hide my stuff. Anyway, I really hope you’ve already picked up your new badge.”

You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the bottom bunk. “…Oh, shit.”

“Really? What kind of gas giant-”

“Don’t start calling me names you’ll regret, Ava,” you grumble as you scramble up and run out of the sleeping pod. This day really is off to an amazing start.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Fish greets you when you climb into the cockpit of your jet with a scowl. “We’ve got zone E today.”

You fasten your seatbelt and heave a sigh. “Yay for us.”

“I thought you liked the asteroid belt.”

“I do, I just…” You chew on your lip as you busy yourself with the control panel. “I had a weird dream, is all. Let’s get going, Fish.”

Because nothing kills a conversation quicker than telling someone about the strange dream you had last night. Now that you think about it, there was something else wrong with it: the stars. They were all in different places, made different constellations…

Usually something like that doesn’t dance around in your head for very long after you wake up, but this somehow keeps popping up whenever you try to navigate manually. It’s like your memories have been copied, but the copy has a whole lot of mistakes. Like there’s been a very, very bad data overhaul.

And then there’s Fish. Despite his casual, relaxed attitude he’s tapping his fingertips against the controls at a rapid pace. It’s a small detail, one you’ve noticed a hundred times before, but it’s taking on a different meaning in your head. You remember him doing it in the dream, too, right after you told him you loved him. Could that maybe-

“Hey!” Fish snaps his fingers in front of you, and everything around you comes back into focus. You’re floating in zone E, engine off, and there’s a bright red jet peeking out from behind a particularly large asteroid.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “What’re they doing here? This isn’t Galactican territory.”

“Ambush, maybe?”

“I doubt it. If they were planning an ambush, they wouldn’t pick a fucking asteroid belt. Lord knows those new engines of theirs are about as stable as a peach in a blender.”

“Whatever they’re doing here, I don’t trust it,” Fish says with a frown. You sigh.

“Maybe they haven’t seen us yet. D’you think we can we get out of here in time?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t risk leading them right back to the Endeavour.”

“You… you haven’t radioed this in yet, right?”

“No.”

You lean forward to get a better look of your surroundings - seems you’ve been daydreaming for quite some time - only to see a whole lot of asteroids. “Well, it is just one of them, and it doesn’t look like the engine’s on.”

“It’s not broken,” Fish mutters. “At least, I don’t think.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? If we radio this in and someone’s in there, they can easily trace any signals the Endeavour sends out. If we open fire, we’ll have started a war-- and we really don’t need another one of those.”

“It’s taking too long.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you,” he says absentmindedly, pointing at the blue spacecraft. “That. It’s moving too slow. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the brakes are on.”

You grab the lens from the wall beside you and take another look. Fish’s right: if the engine’s off, it should be floating around freely, not hanging still. As you stare at it, though, it does seem to move a little bit. No, it glitches. Your breath hitches in your throat. “Holy fuck.”

“Hm?” Fish hums, turning to you. You push the lens in front of his face, and he looks through it as well. No five seconds later, he’s grabbed the controls and started the engine. “We need to get out of here, right now.”

You grab the radio, but Fish snatches it from your hands and throws it across the cockpit. “We’re not gonna radio this in.”

“Are you insane?”

“What do you think base is going to do when they hear tell of a glitching Galactica spacecraft in the last productive tantalum mining fields?”

“Are you seriously suggesting not letting millions of people prepare for-” You’re cut off by the sudden appearance of a dozen more spacecraft, all of their noses pointed in your direction as you and Fish zoom past way faster than you should. “No, no, no!”

“Sunshine, listen to me,” Fish says as he puts his hand over yours. It grounds you, and you’re grateful for it, even if you don’t understand what he’s doing. “If they know we’ve been patrolling the fields, I’m guessing their main plan is to follow us back to the Endeavour.”

“…Which means they don’t know where it’s anchored,” you add, your anxious expression slowly turning into a smirk.

“Now you’re getting it,” he chuckles. “Let’s go take some advantage of that, hm?”

You nod and grab the controls in front of you to start plotting a route that’s just erratic enough not to draw suspicion to the fact that you’re leading the following spacecraft away from the Endeavour. Fish navigates the jet precisely along your route, narrowly avoiding the asteroids while turning a few degrees to the left every few seconds until you’re coasting out of the mining fields and into empty space. It works; behind you, the stream of spacecraft grows steadily, and with it, so does the size of the individual ships.

“They’re still following us,” Fish says after a while. He sounds a lot less sure of his case than he did ten minutes ago. “Hey, we have enough power left for a jump?”

“Depends on where you want to go,” you say, checking the fuel systems. “I reckon we can jump a total of about a thousand light years.”

“The center of the galaxy’s a little less than eight hundred light years away, correct?”

“Yes, but what…” you trail off as realization hits you like a nuclear bomb. “No, don’t even think about it.”

“They’re not backing off, Sunshine.” Fish turns to look you in the eyes, a small, watery smile on his lips. “I don’t think we have a-”

“Of course we have a choice,” you say with as much severity as you can muster, which, to be frank, isn’t a lot right now. “There’s always a choice.”

“Would you rather wipe out their fleet or our own?”

“I don’t-”

“Do it, Sunshine,” he says sternly. “Make the jump.”

You hesitate, your hand hovering over the lever. “Is… is there really no one on the Endeavour you’d turn back for?”

Fish’s smile grows a bit; you can see it’s genuine. “…I’m here with you, aren’t I? That’s enough for me.”

It catches you off guard, the way he says it. Deep down, you already knew what his answer would be. You dreamt about it, after all. Without another word, you push the lever forward, and the jet glides across space-time until it slows down again, finally coming to a halt near the event horizon of the massive black hole at the center of the galaxy.

“Did it work? Are they coming?” Fish almost jumps out of his chair to look outside, while you decide to look at the little radar on the control board. One by one the tiny, blinking dots come streaming in; your evidence of a job well done.

“Fish?” you ask, your voice wavering. There’s something more important than saving the universe on your mind right now. “Am I really enough for you?”

“Oh, stars,” he says, his own happy mood turning into something else as well. He sinks to his knees in front of your chair and looks up at you. “You are more than enough. You’re all I ever think about, you’re the only one that-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve already grabbed his face and crashed your lips into his. You’re about to be swallowed up by a black hole, explanations can wait. The kiss grows more and more fervent as Fish’s hands travel up your thighs to hold your waist, a tingling feeling taking up refuge in your belly. After Newton knows how long, the two of you reluctantly break away from each other to breathe.

Stars, Fish, you whisper, but he shakes his head. Call me Frankie, he says. Please, call me Frankie. You tilt your head and press your lips against his scruff. Frankie, you whisper, please don’t stop. And he doesn’t. He closes his eyes and kisses you, over and over and over until your lips are swollen and all thoughts have left your head.

He zips open your overalls slowly, kissing every inch of newly uncovered skin he can find. His kisses burn lower and lower across your skin, past your clavicles, your chest, your belly, and before you, thousands of stars slowly implode. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this before; it’s all so incredibly bittersweet. You get to spend the longest night of your life with the man you love, but it’ll also be the last night you’ll ever experience.

One by one little pinpricks of light fade out in the darkness outside, while others explode in brightly colored clouds-- the same thing happens to your nerves whenever Frankie moves even the slightest bit. It’s a good thing sound doesn’t carry in space, or else you wouldn’t be able to hear the beautiful noises he makes when he closes his eyes in pleasure.

The two of you tumble around in what little space you have, the light of a billion dying stars illuminating every single part of your joint bodies as you splay your hands across his chest. The darkness is taking over more quickly now, enveloping your jet into nothingness, drawing you into the vast emptiness of its core.

We must have done something right, Frankie whispers as you lay, sweaty and tired, awaiting your bittersweet ending, to deserve such an incredible encore.

You close your eyes and curl up into his chest as you whisper back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You open your eyes again and smile when you look at Mr. Morales. He’s so gentle like this, with his fingers flying across the piano, not at all the stoic soldier he usually is. It’s nice, even if the others think it’s boring.

He finishes the piece with a shuddering creshendo, and you bite back a smile when he looks at you with those gorgeos eyes of his.

“Why’d you stop singing, my lady?”

“I apologize, sir,” you say as you flip over the music sheet on the little ledge of the piano. “But I simply can’t help it; you play so wonderfully, and I never truly learnt to sing very well. It seems a shame to pollute such beautiful tones with my own.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Morales says with a kind smile. “Your voice only ever makes me want to play better.”

Your cheeks heat up at that, but the moment is quickly disrupted.

“Encore, encore!” a voice behind you yells; it’s Mr. Garcia, who’s been sitting in his usual post on the third floor. “We’re gonna need more than just the one piece if we’re to have any luck in catching more than a score of those bastards tonight.”

“Why don’t you come down and try singing for a bit, it might help,” Mr. Morales chuckles beside you. When he notices you staring at him, he leans in a little closer and adds, “Are you all right, miss? You seem distracted.”

“I’m perfectly good, sir.” You swallow hard and let out a weary breath. “Your music always seems to carry me away further than I expect.”

And for a moment there, you think to yourself, I thought I saw the stars up close.

A/N: I really threw all my knowledge of space and science out the window for this one and replaced it with nonsense and movie-science. Also, I’ve watched Interstellar, Free Guy, and Groundhog Day way too much for my own good.

The title of this chapter comes from an instrumental by the Grandbrothers which I listened to while writing, so if you want the full experience you can look that up.

If I'm missing any content warnings, do let me know! I'd hate to hurt someone with my writing, but I don't really know how to work those out yet.

PS: If you've got a favorite AU and/or dynamic, I'd love to hear about it! This series is going to explore a bunch of different ones, but I think my own imagination will only get me so far :)

As always, feedback is appreciated and my inbox is open! Have a great day!

[lalainajanes]

This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

 Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow,  and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.

[agl03]

Finale Predictions

Well guys, it's been quite the ride and here we are ready for the finale.   First and foremost I have to thank you all for sticking with me over the years.  Sending the asks, supporting the theories, dealing with my sometimes crazy metas and predictions, that sometimes hit and sometimes didn’t. And trusting me to be the Fandom Mom. 

As is now an annual tradition I’m putting up my post of Finale Predictions before going dark until after the finale airs.  This is for fun as I always like to see how well I did.    Please no pitchforks if I am wrong on any of these.

So here we go:

Everyone’s favorite villains, Nathaniel, Kora, and SIBYL will all make it to the finale while Garrett will be killed or locked up by the end of the first hour (and it will use some of Fitz’s tech).

SIBYL will eventually get herself a new body.

Nathaniel will turn on Kora and try to take her powers and/or kill her.

Kora has already turned on him and he/we just don’t know it yet.  Either betrays him and helps her sister or tries to kill him herself in revenge for her mother.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.�� 

Daisy will be the one to end Nathaniel and it will be oh so satisfying giant fight scene….even if we have to wait until the second hour for it.  Bonus points if Sousa get a hit in first too

Coulson, May, and Elena are able to get to space thanks to Coulson’s new computer Genius Super Power OR Garrett is ordered to bring them so they can lord their victory over them all.

Even though they have pretty much ended Shield and Hydra in the “hot mess” timeline SIBYL and Nathaniel set their sites on the OG Timeline and/or Fitz once they realize he has come into the mix and ruins their plans in the hot mess timeline..   As they are both aware he is the one who ends their little party.

The Chronicoms will not all be super thrilled with what SIBYL has been up too or her methods.   This could be another thing that drives SIBYL into the OG Timeline.   

The battle between SIBYL and Coulson seems to have gotten a bit more personal so my money is on Coulson being the one to take her down.   Close second goes to May and Fitzsimmons. 

Diana didn’t only block Memories of Fitz it took out the memories of people associated with him.  IE she is not going to remember her friends or Deke.

Deke will earn her trust quickly and be an A+ overprotective grandson of his Nana as they are rescued and get back to the team.

The team will rescue Deke and Jemma, take out a few Chronicoms, and Independence Day their way out of there.

While it won’t be the romantic Philinda some fans want we will see some quality Philinda banter over the finale as it seems they’ve settled into a good place between the two.   Coulson has also passed the torch of “team parent” onto her.

Philinda will not end as a couple.

At some point Sousa is really going to question what is going on and his life choices.  AKA He looks around stunned at what is going on.

More quality Dousy flirting and banter….they will kiss again and I do see them being a couple when things end.

Fitzsimmons family feels just a lot of them over the whole finale.  Iain and Elizabeth are going to murder us with feels.  I mean Fitz with his little girl.  I shall perish.

Despite not knowing everyone Jemma is going to be super insistent on building or activating a device (that has been stashed on the Zephyr) that she doesn’t know what it does but just knows she needs to build and activate it.  She will be the only one who can activate it and possibly it will take something very personal of hers to turn it on.  IE how she was hiding Fitz’s ring/necklace in Season 6 she might have the key hiding again.  But lets all freak out that Jemma will literally be the key to getting Fitz.

We won’t see Fitz until near the end of 12 if he is not the cliffhanger.  

That Bar place in the promo pics is either Keonig’s Bar or the Playground of the hot mess Timeline.  Seems to be some sort of secret Shield Base or what is left of them after the big attack as there are some random Shield agents milling/wth/who are these people in the background.  We know The Playground was off the books in the OG Timeline and would make sense it was also in the Hot mess.

Jemma will have her memory resorted relatively quickly after Fitz Kool Aid Man’s in all Star Lord from the portal thing Jemma activates.  And it’ll be the freaking power of her love for Fitz/her Family that overloads her (Gimme my Framework fix here).  Or Fitzsimmons have a fail safe password.  BUT GIMME TRUE LOVE.

CUE THE SECRET CHILD REVEAL!!!!!!!!!!   Yes, I will be screaming.  The team will be stunned.

I’m sticking to my theory that they will give their daughter a “celestial” or astronomical name to pay off “One of these days we’ll find something magnificent out in space,” thing from Season 3 (especially if she was conceived on the way back from Kitson).  Or a name that is very reflective of their Scottish/English roots.  

Everyone needs to hold onto their hats because once Jemma has her memories back it will be because they are gonna want to get home to their Little Girl like yesterday and have one hell of a plan that involves saving the world and taking care of Nathaniel, SIBYL, and the Season 6 Finale attack on the Lighthouse.

This is likely where a ton of the Flashbacks come in.

Where has Fitz been?  He’s been back in our OG Timeline.  The finale confirmation for me came last week when Nathaniel revealed that SIBYL’s time stream couldn’t see him….or their daughter, and that thing sees EVERYTHING in the HOT MESS Timeline.  This would also be why Jemma’s messages didn’t reach him, she couldn’t get them to cross into the OG Timeline and this was something she would have known but Diana blocked as part of hiding where Fitz was.

How has Fitz been watching the Chronicoms?  Insert incredibly complicated timey whimy thing the writers came up with that me and my Marketing degree can not fathom so just go with it okay, via the using the Framework in the OG Timeline to get into the Chronicom’s system.  Little pay back for what SIBYL has been doing in the Hot Mess Timeline.  Him being connected to the Framework explains why he was so exposed.  Because when someone is hooked up to that thing they can get their heads cut off and not know it.

Now reunited and having dropped the baby announcement Fitzsimmons will present the plan for the “Final Mission” the team must embark on to save the world….again.   

And oh baby is it complicated.  

Part of said plan will have them back at the Lighthouse during the Chronicom attack.

The dudes that showed up with Jemma at the Temple will be explained.  IE I think its some of the team and they cleared out of the Zephyr before the time travel party got started.  They also may have grabbed other hunks of the monoliths.

The fight will take place in both the Hot Mess and OG Timelines  

We have not seen the last of the Monoliths.  The fact we are jumping timelines and have Flint in the mix over in the OG timeline makes me think they are gonna need Mr. Swirly’s help in doing said jumping (Mr. Swirly is the Grey Monolith).  Or they really go with the OG and its Harold (Black Space one) that allows for it.  Kind of fitting the Monolith that tore Fitzsimmons apart is now the one that reunites them.  

We will for sure see Enoch (via Flashback), Davis (please not by Flashback #davislivesagain), Piper and Flint as returning Favorites.   

If they have Davis back to life I just gesture exhaustedly at the Monoliths again.  Not even gonna try to explain it.

Small chance we run into the Hot Mess’s Timeline Enoch but he will have no relationship or connection to the team and will make me cry.  

Top Picks for SURPRISE not on the Press Release faces to pop up if we get them:   Ward (I mean really how have we not seen him again yet), Mace, Robbie, Bobbi, Hunter, Koenig (any of them) and Mike.    REALLY WANT IT BUT WON”T GET IT!   Dadcliffe

Who was keeping Fitzsimmons Daughter safe:  

Top Pick:  Piper and Flint:  Given Fitzsimmons would have run into them picking up the Zephyr and they could have been the “we had help” they talked about.

Second Place Because I Badly want him back:  Uncle Enoch 2.0

Left Field Surprise Option:  Huntingbird

LOLA RETURNS

We will get a lot of really fun callbacks to past stories or even lines IE “I’m just the Pilot” For May.

“What We Are Fighting For”:  Family.  The team family….and the Fitzsimmons family.  Also they will have gone 13/13 in that someone will say the titles name at some point in the episode.

We will see old weapons and tech from previous seasons make one last appearance, we’ve seen 2 so far in promos and will see more.

Shotgun Axe gets a proper send off in battle (this one is for Kiddo 3)

Bear will deliver the most amazing soundtrack that we’ll never get to buy.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story (Sorry Couldn’t Resist)

Nathaniel:  Dies, and we will all cheer.

SIBYL:  Dies, and we will all cheer.

Garrett:  Dies or locked up, won’t make it to the second hour.

Kora:  Toss a coin.  If she dies she killed for trying to take down Nathaniel.  If in her betrayal of Nathaniel she helps Daisy get Jemma and Deke back that could be a good starting place for the sisters to work thing out.   Starting place, she has a long way to go to get in good with Daisy and setting up an 11th hour redemption arc.

Mack:  Still so nervous for him based on how he has been in interviews, especially the SDCC ones last year.  He was so clearly upset by it.  So Mack either falls or does something so out of character (Bails before the finale battle which just is not making sense to me Mack is in such a good place right now) for Mack that Henry was upset by it.  Essentially I am very confused because what I am seeing on screen now isn’t matching with how Henry was talking as Mack has really come around since his Endgame stage.

Elena:   Easily lives.  If Mack doesn’t die, wherever he lands she’ll be with him.  They’ve been a steady ship all season and I see no reason for them to break up outside of death.  And while I have a mountain of concerns for Mack, I have none for Elena..   I also see her still being a presence within Shield, she’s become a good solid agent, and bonus points if she keeps Flint with her….and he gets all the tacos he wants.  

Sousa:   Totally lives (they might give us a good fake out though because he and Daisy are becoming a thing)I can still see him being Director of Shield if Mack falls or steps down.   He’s a good Agent in a new time but he said he is right where he is supposed to be, at Daisy’s side.  Where she goes he goes.  IE he’s not letting her get away and will always be there after she runs into a wall.  So if Daisy leaves Shield, so will he.  If she stays so will he.  If she opens a coffee bar he’ll learn to make an espresso.   

Daisy:   Totally Lives, but there will be something about her ending that some fans won’t like and some fans are going to love.   Staying with Shield or no whatever she does will involve Inhumans be it the Secret Warriors are up and running again, she is mentoring and training new Inhumans coming into Shield, or my favorite option still is she reopens Afterlife.  I’ve been feeling that option for most of the Season and feel like it was really set up with Jaiying as was Daisy looking out for her little sister should the chips fall the right way.     The SS Dousy will be sailing right along.  IF Kora survives I can see her being in Afterlife as well, Daisy taking her mother’s passion that Kora has a good heart to heart herself.  

Deke:   Okay this one is weird because I feel like we are going to lose him somehow, but he won’t die.  I didn’t get the vibe from Jeff, Elizabeth, or Iain that he died and those three are pretty tight.  However,  in that I don’t think I’m going to get my Fitzsimmons Family all settling down in a giant castle in Scotland together.  They set up for him to make a sacrifice, he’s grown, and has something he’s really truly fighting for.   I have loved seeing how close he and Jemma have gotten and how fiercely he’s protected her and her secret.  Even in the face of torture he didn’t betray her.  It will come as no surprise if he doesn’t sacrifice himself somehow.  Either in taking a hit for his family or doing something similar to what he did in Season 5 to make sure they got home.  Bringing things full circle.   He also expressed that he wouldn’t mind being stuck in the hot mess timeline in ‘83.  He built himself a nice life there and Nathaniel did a pretty good job of taking out Hydra...with just a bit of Shield hanging on.  So if it comes down to it I don’t see him minding if he gets stuck there.  Sure him saying goodbye to Nana and Bobo is gonna hurt like Hades but if he ends up alive, I’m good.  

Fitzsimmons:  Both live, yes they will scare the crap out of us more than a few times especially after we know about the daughter, but they will live.  Totally peace out, we’ve done our time, leaving Shield with the adorable daughter and its Perthshire or Bust.   They’ve sacrificed enough and will not be willing to risk it again.

May:   Lives and reminds us all that she is one hell of a pilot.  If Mack decides he wants to step down, dies, whatever I’ll throw her back in contention for Director, especially as I see Sousa Following Daisy if she leaves.  Coulson seemed to have set her on that path and at the very least passed the “Team Parent” torch onto her, that it would be her job to give the Coulson talks to those who needed it.  If she’s not Director, she’ll be whomever is right hand, or I still have that option for the Academy being up and running and she’s running that, training the next generation.

Coulson: Lives.I know SHOCKING.   I think he was very ready to throw in the towel after spending 20 months in the TV but then Enoch’s moving words in his death were what changed his mind about ‘powering down” when this is all over.  Coulson realizes that yes, while it is hard to be the one to leave it is harder for the ones that are left behind but it's also necessary that they move on, and live for those they have lost before.  Like Sousa and Fitzsimmons, he’ll be another that they’ll fake out death a few times.   I see him leaving Shield though, taking Lola and finally just going and seeing the world, watching the history he loves so much happen.  We get to see him driving around or even off in Lola for the last time.   Other options include he does something that will allow him to totally run with his new super computer super power.  The final thing I can see him doing is being the coolest professor at the newly rebooted Academy.  

Flint:  Get’s his tacos.

Piper: Keeps being awesome.

Davis:  Better live dang it.

Kiddos Predictions:

That weird device Jemma makes brings Fitz 

Deke sacrifices himself for Fitz

Fitzsimmons and their kid have to leave Shield

Mack leaves shield

Fitzsimmons, Dousy, Mackelena all stay together

Daisy kills Nathaniel, Daisy needs to quake him up

May or Nathaniel will take out Kora.  But if she survives we want Daisy to take her in.

Fitz takes down SIBYL

Piper is watching the Daughter

The daughters name is Olivia

Robo Coulson will sacrifice himself

GHOST RIDER HAD BETTER BE OUR SURPRISE CHARACTER (this was literally shouted at me).  Kiddo 3 voted for PIkachu (Lincoln)

Have no idea what will happen to May

We will get a “flash forward” ending showing what the team that is still alive is doing

Flint gets his tacos

They save the team and have a full out war at some point in time

The episode is going to be super good

Mom is going to cry

Well there it is.  We’ll check back in on Thursday to see how I did!

[buckysforeverprincess]

Can Our Love Survive Ch. 13

Bucky x Reader, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Words: 2236

Warnings: Being outed

A/N: So we got through the slow burn but things are still going. This chapter is told from Bucky’s POV and is kind of a filler but has a point and you’ll see why. Enjoy and happy Easter if you celebrate it!

**TAG LIST OPEN UNTIL CHAPTER 15. PLEASE SEND AN ASK**

Waking up the next morning, Bucky was groggy, and his head hurt. It wasn’t exactly his head, more so his eye from the epic right hook you had given him yesterday afternoon. He was almost certain you could kick his ass and wouldn’t need Natasha or Steve to hand him ass if he ever hurt her and hurting her was non-existent on his things he’d like to do before he dies.

 The fact anyone would want to hurt her was beyond him and something he was still having a hard time processing. She was the sweetest, softest, most beautiful person with the most perfect soul he had ever met, and Rumlow and his cronies had taken and broken her, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to help put her back together and watch her shine bright for the world to see.

 First things first, he needed to get his ass up and ready for school. The sooner he made this happen the sooner he could see her and hopefully establish if they were going to be an actual couple. They didn’t have time to talk about it yesterday even though they did text a bit back and forth, the topic just never came up. However, he kinda wanted to have that discussion face to face and not via text message.

 It didn’t take him long to get himself together and out the door with a pep in his step and a smile on his face. Bucky felt good, better than good. He can’t remember the last time he felt this happy and carefree. Maybe that’s because it was an entirely new feeling for him, and he owed that all to her and if everyday felt like this when it was new, he can’t imagine what the future held and how his feelings would grow and blossom into the foundations for their lives.

 Bucky approached his locker and looked around at the people milling about. He was hoping to see her before classes started but he didn’t see you or Natasha anywhere. No worries. He was sure at some point your paths would cross, at least he hoped they would and when that happened maybe he could press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Yeah, he was already in deep and at the point of no return.

 The device in his pants buzzes, alerting him to a new text and he pulls it out and smiles when he sees who the message is from.

 My Heart: Morning! I just want to say hello before I went into class.

 Bucky grins and quickly types back, trying to make the most of the conversation in the short time they have.

 Bucky: Morning beautiful! Hope you have a wonderful day and I can’t wait to see you. I do have a question.

 My Heart: Sure, what’s up?

 Bucky inhales a deep breath and lets it out, his nerves building quickly, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

 Bucky: So, am I your boyfriend?

 He hits send and puts the phone back in his pocket, scared to see the reply when it comes through. He gathers the things he’ll need and slams the door, walking away and heading in the direction of his class. He makes it to his desk when he feels the phone vibrate, and he quickly pulls it out and stares at the response.

 My Heart: Do you want to be?

 Of course, he wants to be, was that really even a question.

 My Heart: But, yes. Wait, you are my boyfriend?! I didn’t read this right?!

 Bucky: YES!!! Please don’t panic! I just wanted to be sure.

 He could sense the impending worry in her message and quickly followed it up with some reassurance.

 My Heart: Thank god. Class is about to start, ttyl!

 Bucky: Bye!

Bucky smiled at the conversation. She was his officially his girlfriend. No, they couldn't go public yet, and everything would have to be done in secret, but it wouldn't be forever. Just until Steve and the rest of the gang forgave him for his past mistake. He'd have to start working on that right away.

It was lunchtime when he laid eyes on her, spotting her sitting with Steve and their friends. She glances over at him when he walked into the lunch room and gave a soft smile meant for his eyes only. Bucky blushes and smiles back but quickly turns away, trying not to gain any attention from the group of friends keeping a close watch on her.

 Bucky found an empty table that still had a view of his girlfriend and sat down with his lunch. He hated sitting alone and he wished he could be by her side; laughing and joking with everyone, holding her hand and maybe placing gentle kisses to her cheek, but it wasn’t meant to be. Man, he’d give anything to be over there right now.

“Hey man! What happened to your face? You mess with someone's sister?” Clint laughed, pointing to Bucky’s eye, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him.

All Bucky could do was stare in shock, not expecting anyone from the friends circle to break rank and come keep him company. “Wait, what?” he finally responds once the shock and awe wore off.

 “Your eye. Did you mess with the wrong sister? Ya got a nice shiner,” Clint says a little slower for Bucky to understand.

“Unstoppable force, immovable object?” Bucky questions trying to change the topic and takes a bite of his sandwich.

 “Didn't take you for a Superman kinda guy.”

 Bucky does a little happy dance in his head. Sweet diversion, I love thee. “I'm not. D.C. doesn't hold my attention. I just remember the quote. Now Marvel… I could watch that all day,” Bucky says, and Clint nods his head in agreement.

 “A man after my own heart.”

 Bucky blushes at the remark. “Aww Clint, does that mean I'm forgiven, and we can date now?” He jokes with a grin.

 Clint smiles and bats his eyes. “Hell yeah, it does...and I was never mad. You're a good guy. Shit happens.”

Thank god. One less person to win over. First Nat, then Y/N, now Clint. He thinks things are starting to look up for him.

“So how long?” Clint asks, grabbing one of Bucky’s fries and shoving into his mouth.

 Bucky doesn't understand the question and stares back at the blond confused. “How long what?”

 Clint chuckles. “That's cute if you're gonna go with that.”

 Bucky still looks lost. He truly doesn't understand the context and Clint doesn’t want to elaborate. Bucky knows he’s not a carnival mind reader, but it’s clear he’s gonna have to be if this line of questioning keeps up.

 Clint appears frustrated and rolls his eyes. “How long have you two been dating?”  

Bucky’s eyes go wide in shock and his mouth goes agape. This was not what he expected and was totally caught off guard. They’ve only been together for a couple of hours and hasn't been a discussion about who can know of their change in relationship status, so how the fuck did Clint already know?

“Dating who? I'm not dating anyone!” Bucky lies as convincingly as possible. He hates to but it's his only way out.

 “Really? You're not dating Steve's sister? Because you two can’t keep your eyes off each other and look all madly in love. It’s obvious, really. Surprised I’m the only one that’s caught on, actually.” Clint smirks and steals another fry.

  “What?” Bucky’s eyes gravitate on instinct to her and he sees her look up at him and smile back with a blush, quickly looking away. “I can't look at her? You already know I think she's beautiful.” His attention is back on Clint, hoping to dispel Clint’s hypothesis.  

A lightbulb appears to go off and Clint perks up and stands from his chair. “Well... if you won't confirm it, maybe I'll go over and ask her in front of everyone, hmmm?” Clint grins and he knows he's won.

 “Fucking hell, Clint!!” Bucky raises his voice in a pleading manner. “Please, I’m begging you… don't.”

 Smirking, Clint sits back down and takes more fries from Bucky’s plate. “See how much better it is when you tell the truth?”

 Bucky sighs and pushes his plate of food over to Clint, his appetite gone now that his relationship has already been blown out of the water. “What gave it away?” He asks, needing to know what they’d done to make it obvious, so they don’t repeat the same mistakes again.

Clint leans in and looks him dead in the eye, eyes piercing deep into his soul. “That girl disappeared three days ago after slapping you and locked herself in her room. She reappears today after a secret mission to the Rogers house was carried out and she's happy and laughing and bubbly. I haven't seen her like this since before that pig fucker came into her life. Not a single one of us has been able to bring that out of her, so it has to be you. Besides you two can't stop eye fucking each other! You're begging for Steve to catch you.”

All he wanted was to see you smile, and now you are. Maybe everyone seeing you happy is the start of mending friendships. If Clint can see just how happy she is now, maybe the others will see it and when they find out Bucky is the cause of her happiness, they’ll be open to welcoming him back and they won’t have to hide their couple status. He just wants them to accept their relationship so she can be happy.

“I don't want to hide,” Bucky begins. “I want everyone to know we're together, but everyone is still pretty upset with me. And then there’s Steve. I know he’s still mad at me and won't be happy when he finds out and I’m almost positive he’ll use his big beefy body to kick the shit out of me when he finds out about us. I’m just a dead man walking, right now.”  

 “I might be able to help with that,” Clint says with a grin.

 “Oh?”

 “I may be able to persuade him to keep an open mind and maybe even forgive you,” Clint smirks and Bucky knows he’s hiding something.

 “I'm listening.”

 Clint shrugs and pops another fry into his mouth, slowly eating it, keeping Bucky in suspense. “Steve would never deny his boyfriend anything,” he says stone faced and matter of fact.

“You shut your whore mouth!!” Bucky exclaims from the bombshell that was just blatantly dropped drawing the attention of people around them.

 “Shhh Bucky!!! No one knows! Steve's still stuck deep in the closet.”

 “No fucking way! I spent all my time with Steve, there's no way!” Bucky says in disbelief.

 “Yeah, well we know how not to look obvious and are really good at hiding it. Just keep it quiet please. Steve’s not ready to come out yet.” Clint pleads, worry written on his face.

 Bucky nods in silent understanding and agreement. He'd keep his mouth shut. It wasn't his secret to tell and it’s hard telling how people would react to the Captain of the lacrosse team coming out as gay. Bucky would never out anyone and would happily keep this secret and be supportive when the time comes Steve is ready to let it be known.

And as if he knew someone was talking about him, Bucky sees Steve makes his way over to them and comes to a halt at the table, nervously shifting on his feet. “Hey Clint… Bucky,” Steve says, digging his hands in his pockets.

 Eyes shift around awkwardly between the three of them, no one making conversation, tension high from this unexpected turn of events.

 “Well, this is uncomfortable… Steve? Ready to go to class?” Clint asks standing up from the table.

 “Yeah, sure. Be right there?” Steve eyes meet Clint in a silent understanding. Clint nods and waves to Bucky before taking off, disappearing into a crowd of kids.

 Steve stands in front of Bucky and he can see the uncertainty of whatever brought him over. He's sure Steve's gonna yell at him or threaten him with a ‘stay away from my sister’ talk and is the reason he appears out of sorts right now.

 “I think we should talk.” Steve finally says after a long silence. “Not now… we gotta get to class. After school, maybe?”

 Bucky swallows hard, relieved to have the impending death talk delayed until later. “Yeah, I'd like that. After school’s good.”  

 “Ok. I'll-I’ll see ya later.” Steve quickly turns and leaves without wasting another awkward second.

 “Later,” Bucky replies already too late for Steve to hear, the taller boy making his way through the crowd and out the door.

Wow, Bucky thinks as he grabs his plate and heads over to the trash. This was not how he thought today was going to go. Today started out happy, finally gaining the attention and relationship he wanted, now he’s gotta worry about Steve and the ‘talk’ after school. Throw in a side bomb of Clint and Steve and this has got to be the most epically fucked up day of his young life. Oh, well. At least in this world full of crazy he blends right in.

COLS Tags:

@ellallheart​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @bookgirlunicorn​ @widowsmaximoff​ @jhangelface0523​ @broco8​ @eliza5616​ @nighttwingg​ @bloodyproudpotterhead​ @sexyvixen7​ @marvelismysafezone​ @orions-stars3​ @ava1453​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @afterlaughter27​ @booboobella01​

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @kruscht​ @palaiasaurus64​ @breezy1415​ @sarahp879​ @supernaturaldean67​ @averyrogers83​ @scarlettsoldier​ @lovely-geek​ @titty-teetee​ @geeksareunique​ @peaceinourtime82​ @leosandbuckysgirl​ @the-goddess-of-mischief​ @mychemicalimagines​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @collette04​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @onebatch--twobatch​ @miraclesoflove​ @kcd15​ @xxloki81xx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @thatfanficstuff​ @hotoffthepressfics​ @chuuulip​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @lancetuckershairgel​  @babypink224221​ @mybabe-buckybarnes​ @shield-agent78​ @the-real-kellymonster​

[anika-ann]

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.9

The Flares

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 3090

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

In which Steve has too many redheads in his life and they are a lot to handle. (Dealing with A:AOU, pt.2)

Warnings: swearing, light angst,... eh

Story Masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

But did you see the flares in the sky? Were you blinded by the light? Did you feel the smoke in your eyes? Did you, did you? Did you see the sparks filled with hope? You are not alone 'Cause someone's out there, sending out flares

(The Script – Flares)

 The hallucination – the vision, perhaps – was a true eye-opened. Not because it was any news that Steve was the one to blame for your departure, no, but because actually seeing possibly a very true picture of what was happening to you was something that felt like a bullet to his brain. It was maddening and it should have made him spring into further action; yet, Steve couldn’t find himself having a strength to get mad. He was just too tired. Exhausted, with the weariness settled deep inside his bones.

And while he never had been the one to weep over the universe apparently hating him, he allowed himself to feel that way; especially when Maria Hill advised them to lay low and Clint took them into a safe house.

Correction: Clint took them home. Clint Barton had a home without anyone knowing (except Natasha, because Natasha knew everything and shared nothing), two healthy kids and a beautiful loving wife, living in a rural idyll. And once that information settled in Steve’s head, his heart broke on an entirely new level.

He could have a home. He could see himself having a home. He might not have before, not after coming out of the ice, not even long after actually. Not even the first time he had realized he was in love with you, no. It came with gradually and Steve hadn’t been quite aware of it; perhaps that was the actual truth that the vision created by Wanda Maximoff had revealed. With that hallucination, it had dawned to Steve that he had been ready to go home, for a while now; no matter what exactly home looked like, no matter how much fighting he would still be doing, for how many mission he would be going or if he would be able to reduce that.

He was ready to go home and he wished to go home, with you.

And in reality, it didn’t matter, because the most essential part of what he considered home was missing.

It was a relief when Fury showed up and helped them to figure out how to fight back – the battles they actually could fight. It reminded Steve that there were still battles worth fighting. It took his dark thoughts away, or at least it pushed them on the back burner for a while.

Then again, meeting Maximoff’s once more wasn’t helping. And the girl, suddenly so eager to fix things she had done wrong, reminded him of you too much. He shook off the thought when he went for what could be the final battle and tried his best to focus. No matter how insane the suddenly levitating city was.

And then they all knew it was the end.

“Stark will find a way to blow this rock,” Natasha stated rather calmly as they caught a moment to breathe in on the battlefield.

It was surprising how much faith she seemed to have into Tony with how he kept doing things behind their backs – then again, everyone seemed to be keeping secrets from another lately. But that wasn’t what he found outraging at her statement.

The city was flying and there was no way to save all the people before Stark would make it explode. Lost lives. Failure. Again.

Not on his watch.

“Not until everyone’s safe.”

Natasha looked at him with disbelief, probably questioning his sanity. “Everyone up here, versus everyone down there-“

“I’m not leaving this rock with one civilian on it,” Steve exclaimed stubbornly, the flame of fury lighting up in him.

No. Not this time, not again. He had failed too many times. He had lost so many battles and he was not about to lose another one, he was not about to fail people again.

Natasha gave him a sad smile. “I’m not saying we should.”

The look they exchanged spoke thousand words. This was indeed the end. They truly wouldn’t leave – they would either save everyone’s life or more likely died trying. There was a strange peace in that. That was how he was supposed to go, right? Like a soldier. Like a person who had decided to dedicate his life to save someone else’s. He just selflessly wished it would have been yours or Bucky’s or of someone who was closer to his heart. But he didn’t get to choose.

It was as if Natasha read his thoughts, when she whispered: “There are worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”

Steve looked briefly over the edge of the flying crater of the city. He would think Natasha was right; but there were so many things he would rather see before he would close his eyes forever. Your smile for example, no matter where the two of you would be. Just your smile, knowing you were safe and he hadn’t failed.

But Steve wasn’t destined to have such luck.

When Fury’s voice announced them that the view would actually get better via their comms, Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and feel a little flicker of hope. A flare in the endless darkness. Maybe there were things they could fix and people they wouldn’t fail after all.

He only realized he had been a fool thinking that, when it was over and one of the lives they lost was Wanda Maximoff’s brother’s. Strangely enough, Steve envied him. But only a bit.

────── ·❆· ──────  

The weirdest thing was Tony Stark being the one to pluck up his courage not to give up. Not that he was aware of that.

Saying goodbye to him as Steve decided to stay at the army base with Natasha, Tony had told him something so simple that it shouldn’t have moved Steve the way it did.

“Maybe I should take a page from Barton’s book. Buy Pepper a farm, hope nobody will blow it up…” Tony hummed almost lost in thoughts and Steve was once again surprised how the billionaire managed to bring a smile on his face despite all of their differences.

“The simple life.”

“You’ll get that too someday,” Tony reassured him with a smirk that poorly covered the sincerity behind his words. It was the softness in his eyes that gave it away.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Definitely, Cap. You know that me taking off doesn’t mean I’ll stop looking, right? You shouldn’t either. She’s out there somewhere. We’ll find her and bring her home.”

Steve smiled shakily at him, feeling the familiar adrenalin and determination flooding his veins. Tony was right. You were out there and they would bring you home, they just needed to try hard enough.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Any time, Capsicle.” Tony patted Steve’s arm before he slid into his fancy car, the door clicking shut. Then the window rolled down, Tony’s head sticking out. “Oh, and do me a favour. Pop the question when we do, okay?”

The captain felt his cheeks burn, a chill running down his spine as Tony somehow sensed the change in Steve’s longing, but he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sure. Take care, Tony.”

The Iron Man saluted him with two fingers and with a roar of his sports car’s engine and a whole lot of whirled dust disappeared in the distance. Steve stared into nothingness for a an embarrassingly long time.

────── ·❆· ──────  

He found Natasha absently staring into a wall, a tablet in her hand forgotten. She turned to him when the door clicked behind him.

“Done gazing into Tony’s eyes? Ready to go to work?” she teased, an easy smile on her lips.

The corners of her mouth rose higher when she saw his expression; she hadn’t seen him this determined for a while. It was funny what could make people happier. Natasha didn’t think losing Bruce somewhere in a quinjet could do that. Then again, they just saved multiple lives. Unlike her, Steve deserved the feeling of victory. If she didn’t feel quite the same, no one needed to know.

Steve’s thumbs slid into the loops of his belt as he stopped in front of her, rocking on his heels.

Uh-oh. Big announcement coming, she could tell as much, and she wasn’t sure she would like it.

“I’m ready,” Steve confirmed and one look into his eyes told Natasha that he spoke it was the truth – but not quite.

She knew that look too well. He had it every time they got a track on you. And since she knew for a fact that there were no new leads… her heart sank.

“Steve…”

Steve could immediately tell Natasha understood, just like he could see she didn’t approve.

“I should be out there, looking for her. I need to be, because she’s somewhere, alone, and she can’t hide forever. I’ll find her – but it needs to be my priority from now.”

“Steve,” she addressed him, softer this time, wary of her tone, so it didn’t sound like she was admonishing him. “We got no lead for eternity-“

“That only means we need to try harder!”

“We’re doing our best and you know it. The moment we get the tiniest lead – like the last time with early snow in London –, we drop whatever we do with the recruits and we’ll be on our way.”

“Natasha-“ he started out again, but she cut him off.

“You’re not the only one who’s desperate to find her, Rogers! But the world hasn’t stopped turning! There are still threats and we need to deal with it. She wouldn’t want to-“

“Don’t you dare to speak for her, Romanoff-!“

“For God’s sake, Steve! Do you really think she would have asked you not to look for her if she wanted you to drop everything and come find her? “

He gasped as he felt the air knocked out of him.

It pissed him off, the burning feeling of betrayal squeezing his chest. Why was she discouraging him from this? Why? And how dared she to speak for you? She hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t seen what he had, what they had been doing to you and finally it hadn’t been her idly hands letting you suffer, only watching it all happen.

Steve couldn’t hold it anymore. So he exploded.

“What she did was stupid! She could be tortured right now, Natasha, serving as someone’s personal lab rat! You said it yourself, we didn’t get a single lead-”

“Exactly. Where would you go?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air helplessly, his breathing getting quicker. Because she totally hit the nail on the head – Steve had no clue, but he was sick it. He needed to know, he needed to do something, because just waiting for something fall into his lap was torture. “But anything is better than doing nothing!”

“We’re not doing nothing, Rogers. We just saved countless lives-“

“But not the one that mattered!” he cried out, his fist hitting the railing so hard it shook around the whole room. The sound of it resonated in the suddenly silent space as the severity of the sentence fell on both Natasha and Steve.

The redhead pressed her lips together, tears she would later deny gleaming in her eyes. Steve leaned onto the railing, bowing his head in defeat. He did not mean to say that. Especially not to Natasha, who had just lost Bruce to God knew where.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Natasha, I-“

The spy shook her head, blinking the sudden prove of weakness from her eyes.

“I get it. And I agree with the stupidity, but she did it because she believed it was the only option and a right one. And I rather believe she’s just that good neither we nor anyone else can find her than that she was captured.”

Her voice was thick with emotions she didn’t want to show and the guilt stung harder in Steve’s gut. He was being an ass. A big one. A selfish one on top of that.

“…I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I think I’ll live,” she sighed, lighting the tablet up. “I get it, Steve. I miss her too.” And I miss Bruce too. I’m scared for him, was left unspoken, but they both knew it might as well could.

“Yeah. I… I know.”

“And it’s not your fault she’s gone. I know you think it is, but that’s nonsense. Don’t beat yourself over it. Just don’t give up on her.”

Steve sighed, closing his eyes and attempting to regain his composure. His balled hands shook inconspicuously. He needed to be strong. He was expected to be strong, especially in front of the new recruits and no matter how much he hated it, moping wouldn’t help anyway. And hot-headed decisions, flying form one end of the world to another without an actual goal neither.

He cleared his throat. “Alright. What do we have here?”

“Bunch of kids who think they know what they’re doing.”

“And they are not a team.”

“And they are as far from a team they could be,” Natasha corrected him as she handed him the tablet and threw the door to a corridor leading to a training room open.

Steve studied all the names and pictures, mentally cataloguing them. “Sounds like a lot of work. Shall we start?”

────── ·❆· ──────  

“Captain Rogers?” Wanda whispered shyly, her unmistakable voice heavy with accent.

Steve stopped in his tracks, trying to plaster a smile on his face. Interacting with her… it was too much. Her age, her powers, her persona – it was too similar, too much of a painful reminder of you and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the resemblance nagged him in the back of his brain like a constant itch he couldn’t scratch, because he couldn’t reach it.

“Yes, Wanda?”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, pretending his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest. Had she read his mind? She probably had, if not recently, then surely when they had been fighting against each other. But why speak up now? It must have been about something else.

“What for?”

“I am… still learning how to control the abilities,” she started hesitantly and it confused the hell out of Steve.

Was she apologizing for not making progress fast enough? They had just finished the first training. And of course, had fought a battle against an army of robots.

“That’s understandable. But you’re doing great.”

She smiled faintly. “Thank you. But… it’s… I can’t turn them off. I can… feel the pain and deep sadness settled in you.”

Steve froze. Well. Shit.

“And… when I caused you the hallucinations… I got a glimpse. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he rasped, not even shocked how the combination of her persona and the topic of their conversation brought right back on the edge. “You believed you were doing the right thing. We can’t change the past, but we can still do our best to make a better present and future.”

“Like she did?”

Steve glared into her eyes at the note, unable to say a word. She lowered her gaze.

“I said I got a glimpse, but she was almost everywhere – each of you thought of her. She always made an appearance, at least for a moment. I… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just… I guess I want to say thank you for giving me a chance to redeem myself and… and-”

“Wanda… you deserve a chance. You don’t need to thank for that. As for the other thing… I would appreciate if we kept the conversation about that on minimum.”

“Of course! I’m just… I’m working on some things, I’m trying to… to control someone’s emotions and I could help you to— I know it’s invasive!” she blurted out hastily as Steve’s expression changed into a horrified one. “But… with Pietro… I was able to keep tabs on him when on the field, we had a connection-“

“I’m very sorry for your brother, Wanda, I truly am,” Steve said softly, pouring some compassion in and resting his hand gently on her shoulder. Grief he understood too well.

“I… what I’m trying to say is that I would probably feel him at the other side of the world, because we were really close, and— and maybe-- maybe if you let me know Sno--- the person that you feel you have disappointed well enough, if everyone would let me… I think that perhaps with Vision’s help, I might be able to find her mind and track her down.”

Steve stared at the young woman paralyzed, absolutely stunned and with own mind a complete and utter mess.

Did she just said— did she-- could she really--- it sounded too good. It sounded insane. Like a sci-fi; but then again, his whole life was. This woman could read minds. She could move things with her mind, she could read emotions. She could---- could she really find you? It seemed impossible.

He didn’t want to give in to the hope. He always had, every single time the recognition system had found a face almost matching yours only to find a girl who could be your twin, every single time a weather anomaly occurred and he would chase down the lead like a madman only to find nothing, always scolding himself for believing you would be so careless. And the truth was, he was growing tired of it. He always followed, never letting the trail go cold, but with every failed attempt, he was being kicked lower and lower. The spark of determination from Tony had been very short-lived.

“Captain Rogers?”

“Yes?” Steve snapped from his daydreaming, eyeing Wanda absently.

“Your thoughts are screaming at me-- not your fault. Just… do you want to tell me about her? If I know her, I can start trying. And I understand we don’t know each other too well for you to open your mind completely so I could see and hear for myself. So… you could just tell me,” she suggested, this time being the gentle one. It was another reminder of you and it hurt like hell. And at the same time, the offer was painfully tempting. “I really do remind you of her a lot, don’t I?”

Steve gave her a sad smile, little broken on its edges.

“You have no idea.”

“Give me one, then. I could be a good listener.”

Steve chuckled as she offered him an elbow in a poor attempt of a joke and blinked away the tears he had no idea where had come from. He really should get a grip on himself.

“Okay. She… she was someone very special and unique…”

────── ·❆· ──────  

Part 10

────── ·❆· ──────  

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench, @smilexcaptainx @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula

────── ·❆· ──────  

Bear with me. Were geting back to our Snowflake to see what she’s been up to... and as ou can probably guess, things will happen ;)

Thank you for reading!

[gwenbrightly]

Ninjago Christmas Fic #1 - Decorations

Ahhh, it’s that time of year when I speed write Christmas fics because it’s fun! Crossposted from ffnet. Takes place after MOTO.

“Let’s see what everyone was able to snag for the monastery,” Lloyd suggested enthusiastically. Having never celebrated Christmas in the monastery of spinjitzu before, the ninja had been horrified to discover that Wu hadn’t thought to invest in decorations for the holiday season. Not prone to giving up easily, they had spent several days searching high and low for trees, wreaths, lights, and anything else they could get their hands on.

“Ma and pa sent some lights they swear still work properly. Left most of em outside. There’s also a bunch of garlands that look like they’re in pretty decent shape. Perks of living in a junkyard, I guess. And uh, I think this used to be an angel?” Jay stated, holding up a sparkly hunk of metal with appendages shaped vaguely like wings. He glanced sideways at it, trying to decide if it was worth keeping.  

“I… can try to fix it later, if you want?” offered Kai, “I got a lot of practice with metalworking while Nya and I were visiting mom and dad yesterday. And the whole remaking the Golden Weapons thing probably helps too, heheh.”

His sister rolled her eyes at his self satisfied smirk. Jay nodded, handing Kai the mangled decoration.  

“If you think she’s savable, go for it!”

“Speaking of mom and dad, they gave us a box of Christmas ornaments and some other stuff, too.” Nya added holding up the blue orb with swirly designs she’d just grabbed from the uppermost layer of the cardboard box she was kneeling next to.  

“We couldda brought some tinsel, too, but we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea after last year…” she continued. They all shuddered.  

“Dad convinced the tree farm that sponsors the Royal Blacksmiths to sell him a tree for super cheap. He said he’d drop it off in a little bit.” Cole informed them, not wanting to dwell on the incident.

“Dude! That’s awesome!” Exclaimed Lloyd, his eyes lighting up. The others smiled. They’d never been able to have a live tree before. Zane nodded in agreement.  

“Indeed. I’m sure it will look lovely in the living room. I managed to locate a wreath my father built. It’s made mostly from old gears, and I know that’s not very traditional, but I’d like to put it up somewhere. If you don’t mind?”

“Of course, Zane. I’m sure we can find a good place for it.” Cole assured his friend. He understood what it was like to miss a family member during this time of year.  

“Yeah. I mean this place is huge. We need all the decorations we can get!” Kai reminded them.

“We had better get started, then.” Pixal interjected, eager to finally be celebrating the holidays without being confined to a screen (or her wonderful soulmate’s head) this year.

“Heck yeah! So where should we start?” asked Nya. They glanced around at the heaps of miscellaneous decorations, considering their options.  

“Maybe we should tackle the lights outside first? I’d rather do that before it gets too cold out.” proposed Jay. Although it had not yet snowed, the weather had been growing increasingly colder.

“I vote yes to that idea. It’s usually better to test anything the Walkers give us as soon as possible to avoid unnecessary explosions. No offense, Jay.” Cole said, giving the master of lightning an apologetic grin. Jay punched his shoulder lightly.

“None taken. We do tend to end up with... Surprises pretty often when ma and pa gift us stuff.”

“Okay, then. Outside it is. Just… try to keep the dangerous hijinks to a minimum? I don’t wanna worry Uncle Wu.” Lloyd told them, heading for the front door.  

The next hour was spent watching Jay zap each strand of lights or light up decoration with his powers as he tested them to see if they worked, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Surprisingly, they made it through 5 whole strands, two light up snowman, and a reindeer before coming across their first exploding decoration. No one could be sure if the shattering of every single bulb on the rainbow strand of lights was due to Jay’s parents tampering with the wires, or the master of lightning himself sending too much electricity into it, but the display of rainbow colored shards flying through the air was impressive to say the least. After cleaning up their mess and testing the remaining decorations, the group began the actual decorating part of the process. Pixal and Zane wrapped lights around the columns that lined the entrance to the monastery, creating elaborate patterns. Cole and Jay worked together to lift an ornate sleigh complete with reindeer onto the roof via airjitzu. Meanwhile, Nya simply tried to keep Lloyd and Kai from killing each other with additional decorations. Seeing her brother wrap the green ninja in lights, she cried, “Kai no!” in exasperation.  

“Cmon, sis! You’ve gotta admit he’d make a great Christmas tree!” He defended, before launching into singing oh Lloydie tree, oh Lloydie tree, how lovely are your branches! And receiving dirty looks from his victim.  

“Listen to Nya, Kai.” Cole shouted from above them. The master of fire relented, muttering about how no one appreciated his brilliance as he unwound his brother. Their hard work was interrupted by the sounds of a (much less irritating) Christmas carol floating into the courtyard from just beyond the gate.

“We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!” Sang Lou and his quartet as they lugged a ginormous tree inside.

“Hey, pop!” Cole greeted. He left the lofty heights of the roof, followed by Jay.

“Hello, son! You’re doing a lovely job with this place!”

“Thanks!” Jay said, “You just missed the explosion!”

“… The what?” Lou started.

“So, how was your drive?” Cole inquired, cutting him off. His father gave him a strange look, but didn’t push the topic further.

“It was fine. Building that driveway was a wonderful idea. I can’t imagine how much of a hassle it would’ve been to carry this thing up so many steps.” he answered.

“It really has made life easier for all of us.” Zane agreed.  

“This tree is beautiful! Thank you so much for hooking us up!” Added Lloyd, staring admiringly at their  

“It was no trouble, Lloyd.” Lou told him, smiling warmly.  

“Wanna come inside for some hot cocoa? We were about ready to take a break anyway.” offered Cole.

“I would love to, but unfortunately we need to get going. We have a concert at the hospital to attend. Can’t disappoint the kids, you know.” the older man replied regretfully. The master of earth shrugged. Christmas was always a busy time for the Royal Blacksmiths.  

“Okay. Next time, then. Break a leg, and thanks again!”

“Goodbye son!” Lou called as his companions burst into sing again.  

“Now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding and bring some right here!”

“What even is figgy pudding?” Lloyd wondered aloud.  

“No clue.” Kai shrugged.  

“Let’s get this bad boy inside.” Prompted Jay, rubbing his hands together and grinning in a way that was only a little bit maniacal. It took a fair amount of maneuvering, but they eventually managed to get the tree situated in the living room.  

“Wow, I hope we have enough ornaments for this thing.” Nya commented. The tree looked even bigger now that it was upright.  

“We’ll think of something if we don’t. Maybe we can just put Jay to work making paper snowflakes again.” Lloyd plotted.

“I’m down for that. I don’t get why you guys think I’m the only one who’s deserving of this honor, though.” said Jay. He had never quite understood why the others were so fascinated by his ability to make paper snowflakes with such ease.

“Because you’re better at it than we are and we like the way they look.” Nya stated simply, hanging the ornament she’d discovered earlier on the tree. Jay leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Kai rolled his eyes at them and set about digging through the boxes looking for more ornaments. He pulled out anything that looked like it was still functional, tossing a few broken ones into the garbage.  

“This one is neat!”

“Oooh shiny!” Lloyd noted. He snatched the ornament from Kai before he could protest. The master of fire decided it wasn’t worth fighting and returned to his rummaging. Kai managed to protect a few of the ornaments from Lloyd’s watchful eye, sneaking them onto the tree when he wasn’t looking.  

“Wait… how did that get there?” Lloyd asked, finally noticing one of the extra sparkly ornaments Kai had hidden from him.  

“I swear Lloyd, you’re as bad as a cat when you get like this.” Nya told him, stifling a smile.  

“Like what?” he replied innocently. Cole watched Lloyd stare longingly at another ornament.  

“All oooh shiny every time you see something cool.”  

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that stems from having a dragon for a grandmother.” Lloyd reminded them.

“Hmmm that’s a good point.” Confirmed Zane.

“Kai, I am almost completely certain that Santa was not intended to be a part of this nativity!” Pixal scolded, frantically trying to prevent the master of fire from ruining the decoration he was currently setting out on the mantle.

“Well, he is now!” Kai retorted, not caring about historical accuracy. Pixal sighed loudly.

“Can we at least discuss fixing the sheep so they don’t look like they’re fighting to the death?”

“Gee, Pix! It’s not like they’re real,” he reminded her indignantly before smiling a devious smile, “Hmmm I should add one of Lloyd’s dragon figurines...”

“Kai no! That is the most horrible idea ever.” she protested, horrified.  

“What you call horrible I call brilliant!”

“Okaaay maybe it’s time for a break before Uncle Wu comes in here and questions our collective sanity again.” Lloyd said awkwardly pushing between the irate ninja and samurai.  

“There’s hot cocoa in the kitchen, remember?” added Nya.  

“Hmmm okay, sure. Hot cocoa does sound good.” Kai admitted (totally not planning on sneaking back later to mess with the nativity some more).  

“Yeah! Let’s go eat way too much whipped cream and marshmallows!” agreed Jay.  

“Looks like we’re off to another chaotic Christmas.” Lloyd commented to Nya as they headed for refreshments.  

“Yeah, but you know you love it.” She told him with a laugh. The blonde shrugged, saying,  

“I do. Somehow this never gets old.”

“That’s the magic of Christmas for you. Or… something like that, anyway. Now cmon, let’s get some hot coco before the others drink it all.”

[bloodline-rpg]

Congratulations, Angela! We have accepted your application for your OC Mika Ilari (FC: Ksenia Solo) using the Street Magician Skeleton. Please create a blog for your character and send us the link via ask box as soon as you can along with the song lyric you wish to use for Mika’s bio (if you do not wish to use the lyric on the skeleton). Welcome to Bloodline!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/Alias: Angela

Age: grown ass adult :)

Preferred pronouns: she/her

Timezone: CST, however, I work overnights (6pm-6am) so I keep very strange hours.

Level of activity (don’t give your activity a number value, please describe how active you will be as best as possible): It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a Tumblr RP, however, I tend to get VERY invested. I’m typically online at least once a day and get very excited about replies. It can be difficult to write replies on days I work because it all depends on how busy we are, but on days I’m off I should definitely be able to get replies out.

CHARACTER DETAILS

Character’s Name: [The Street Magician] Mika Ilari

Desired FC: Ksenia Solo

Character’s Age: 21

Character’s Species: Holistic witch

Character’s Sexuality: bi-sexual

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

They spent their life invested in the little things; details, moments, watching peoples’ eyes. They were nimble. Slippery some might say. Their father called them frivolous. Their mother cried. There wasn’t money in magic. Magic isn’t real. Until witches were hunted, and then a child could only be so sure, that maybe they truly belonged… somewhere else entirely… It started as a hobby. Card tricks. A way to keep an overactive mind busy before fidget spinners were a thing. She had a knack for it, sure, but she never considered it more than tricks. As she got older she probably should have outgrown her love of illusion, but it gave her something to focus on when her parents tried to pressure her into becoming someone she wasn’t. Mika had no interest in becoming a doctor or a lawyer or any of the other “respectable” professions her parents pushed her toward. The fact that they thought she’d survive as an accountant just proved that they didn’t know her at all. The more pressure they put on her, the more she bucked their authority. She took to wearing dark makeup, dying her hair black, wearing higher heels and shorter skirts. Her clothing became as much a performance as her tricks, everything designed to draw the eye where she wanted it and keep it away from where she didn’t. Her draw toward the occult started as nothing more than teenage rebellion designed to annoy her parents. Ouija boards and tarot cards were toys, not tools. If her “predictions” often turned out to be eerily accurate it was simply because she was intuitive, not because of any sixth sense. Sure it was fun to charge her classmates a few dollars to confirm or deny whether their crush liked them back, but it wasn’t until she saw, ironically, a David Blaine special that she seriously considered the idea that this could be a real way to make money. After graduation from high school Mika went ahead and broke her parent’s hearts by refusing to go to college. She wanted to give this whole magic thing a try. It was the one consistent thing that made her happy, the way people would gasp in shock when she found their card, the way she could somehow make it appear in places they never expected. She didn’t know how David Blaine did the trick that made the card show up in an unpeeled orange, for that matter she wasn’t sure how she did it either, but thinking about that too much gave her a headache so she didn’t. It was fun and was something that was hers, free of obligations or expectations. The attention was an added bonus. Mika traveled the country, splitting her time between big cities and festivals. Anywhere where tourists could be talked into throwing money away for tricks and fortunes, Mika was there. She worked as a “psychic” for so-called ghost hunters or paranormal groups and led seances, did readings, cleansed locations with sage and crystals. If she managed to ferret out some actual information she tended to write it off as coincidence to herself even as she accepted acclaim from anyone willing to give it. She worked with other magicians when it suited her, split from them when it didn’t and generally avoided anything that resembled real responsibility. It wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, she’d have to come up with something she was good at that didn’t involve making a spectacle of herself, but not any time soon. She was young and impulsive and this worked. The exposure of real magic gave her pause. She tended to write off anything she did that worked as skill with acting and persuasion and insight, nothing more. But then there were things that not even she could explain. Maybe it was worth looking into? Especially since she happened to be in Salem for now – surely if there were witches to be found some of them were cliche enough to be in Salem. Finding a coven wasn’t that hard but Mika found most of them to be pompous blowhards more interested in making sure their jeans were organically sourced than in magic. There was only one other person who managed to catch her attention as having any real power. Nick. He and Mika eventually left the “coven” and worked together to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. When the call came for witches to gather it felt like the next adventure for Mika. Nick was far more skeptical and he decided to stay in Salem, but Mika wanted to know. She had to know.  

CHARACTER PERSONALITY

Mika refused to be intimidated by anyone or anything. She’s full of sass and bravado and gumption. Her whole life she’s been bucking people’s expectations and marching to the beat of her own drum, she has no intention of stopping now. Original witches, immortal witches, it doesn’t matter to her. Power is power and Mika prefers hers to be flashy and frivolous. Obviously she doesn’t want to be hunted, but part of her is still unconvinced that her magic is actually magic. Did it really just pop up in kids with ADHD and authority issues to help them spite their parents? Responsibility has always been something to avoid, and while she’s smart Mika has always had issues applying herself.

PLOTS AND POLITICS

In her mind, everyone in the manor needs to relax – they all take themselves far too seriously. Mika is still of the opinion that if it doesn’t work out, she can leave like she’s always done. Her magic isn’t dangerous, it’s not useful for much more than parlor tricks and a quick buck and Mika thinks she’s fine with that. Her goals are not necessarily the same as the rest of the witches and while she’s eager to learn more, she’s also not going to be bullied or pushed around for their entertainment.

I feel like Mika can hold her own with the sass queens if only because she’s not impressed by them and not intimidated by their power. She feels as though she has nothing to lose by leaving. Life was great before and she’d always been safe – convincing her otherwise might be the key to earning her loyalty.

[davidthetraveler]

A warm thick liquid dripped down his arm. A hot shame flashed on his face; he had embarrassed himself. (2 sentence thing) ( I really like sending you these :) )

Our Growing Boy

Characters:  Virgil, Logan, Roman, Thomas, Patton

Pairings:  Parental Analogical, Romantic Logicality

Trigger Warnings:  Blood Mention, Remus Sanders Mention, Deceit Sanders Mention, Zombie Mention

Squick Warnings:  Giant/Tiny Content

Word Count:  1988

Read it on AO3

(I’m also using one of the prompts from @hiddendreamer67‘s list of October Giant/Tiny Prompts, specifically Day 24:  Blood)

***********************

If you’d like, you can send me two sentences, and I’ll continue them like they’re part of a fic.

***********************

Crunch.  Chomp.  Smack.

With each noisy bite, more red streamed down his face, coating his jaw and dripping down onto his dirty mangled shirt.  He chewed up the massive bite in his mouth, allowing the liquid to flow freely over his form before finally swallowing.  He leaned back over his prize and was about to take another messy bite, when a slight creak behind him made him freeze.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

Virgil slowly turned around, the warm thick liquid now dripping down his arms.  A hot shame flashed through his face, embarrassed for himself at being caught.

There in the doorway to the back porch was Logan, his brow creased in stern disapproval.

Virgil nervously gulped, swallowing down the juice still in his mouth before trying to find his voice.

“I-I-..I was, was just, just trying to…to, uh…I was just, just…isn’t this a little early for you to get home?”

Logan allowed a small smirk to show on his face.  “Yes, but school let out early today since it’s a holiday weekend.  Now, would you care to explain why you’re covered in giant cherry juice?”

Virgil’s embarrassed blush deepened, almost starting to blend in with the red juice staining his face and clothes.  “I was…I…”

After a few false starts, he finally sighed in defeat as his slouch deepened.  It was ironic, really, how small his Papa could make him feel, even if he was almost twice as tall as him at full height.

“I wanted to make the blood for my costume look more authentic, and when I remembered what happened the last time Dad cut open a raw cherry, I…I figured he wouldn’t mind if I…I borrowed just one of them.  I mean, you remember how long those stains lasted, even after Dad tried wiping himself down.  I figured it would really sell the look.  Plus, as long as he didn’t know, I figured he…he wouldn’t miss just one.”

Logan hummed in response, looking his son over.  Finally, he reached behind himself and pulled out a towel, which he handed up to Virgil.

“Regardless of the fact that you do look rather terrifying with all that red dripping off your mouth, especially in conjunction with the use of these old tattered clothes you’re wearing, your Father and I have both expressed how important it is to follow our rules, especially in regards to the garden.  Might I remind you what happened the last time you took something from there without permission?”

Virgil paused briefly before resuming wiping himself off, the flash of remembrance bringing up all the old memories.  He could remember very well the taste of that massive orange the size of a basketball.  How delicious it had been, how quickly it seemed to fill him up with its juices, and how that filling-up feeling had kept getting stronger and stronger as he outgrew his clothes and doubled in height.

And after that, all the memories of having to go to school as a freak of nature, permanently transformed because he broke his dad’s rules and had ended up getting dosed with his parents’ secret experimental growth formula designed to help grow larger, stronger sources of food for distribution in impoverished countries.  The stares, the fearful murmurs, the endless teasing from the bullies who, even if he was big enough and strong enough to fight them off, he was too afraid of his own size and power to confront them.

Luckily for him, the year after that his dads had let him switch schools, which had allowed him to meet his new friends Roman Alteza and Thomas Sanders.  They didn’t care that Virgil was a giant.  They just liked this quiet but caring, if slightly intimidating, boy who was snarky and fun and willing to help out when something got stuck in a tree.  Not to mention he was pretty good at getting Roman’s weird twin Remus and Thomas’ bratty cousin Daemon to leave them alone with his slightly threatening quips, once his new friends managed to help bring him out of his shell.

Virgil couldn’t help but smile at the recollections, but Logan’s lecturing tone as he continued brought him back to the present.

“Considering your current status, I would assume that you would have been more anxious about taking another sample from our experiments.  We still have no way to reverse the formula’s effects, and even if we’ve managed to mostly work out the side effects from consumption of the fruit, there’s still the possibility of another reaction, especially for someone who’s already been dosed with the formula.”

Virgil hung his head, shame welling up inside him at his foolishness as he lowered himself down to sit on the porch.

“I’m sorry, Papa.  I guess I just got so excited at the idea that I forgot about the consequences.”

Logan sighed, but reached out to take the towel from Virgil’s hand.  While his long and lanky stature meant that he was quite a bit taller than the average man, he was barely taller than his son’s seated form.  In truth, his son’s condition was just as much his and Patton’s fault as it was Virgil’s.  After all, had they not been more careful about keeping their experiments protected, Virgil would not have even managed to get a hold of the altered orange.

With these thoughts in mind, he picked up rubbing off the excess juice from his son’s face where Virgil had left off, reaching out to grasp his shoulder with his other hand.

“Well, it would seem that there were no additional side effects from your consumption.  And considering your previous record of exemplary behavior, I believe we can forego the need for a punishment for tonight.”

Virgil’s head shot up in excitement.  “You mean, I can still go out with Roman and Thomas tonight?”

Logan nodded his head.  “So long as you make sure to be home by ten.”

Virgil frowned.  “But my usual curfew for weekends is–”

He came up short at Logan’s raised eyebrow, and immediately backpedaled.  “Home by ten, got it.”

No sooner had Logan finished wiping off the remaining drips, a call from behind them announced Roman and Thomas’ arrival.  Roman was decked out in a full-on classic Dracula get-up, complete with flowing cape and high collar.  Thomas’ werewolf costume, by comparison, was much less intimidating, giving off more of a human-dog hybrid feel than that of a monstrous nightmare creature seeking human flesh.

“Hi Mr. Logan,” Thomas called as they came up to the porch.

“Greetings, Thomas.  You are looking exceptional.”  Thomas blushed but gave his thanks.

“Hey, Mama Lo,” Roman greeted, a playful smirk on his face.

Logan frowned slightly.  “I believe I have mentioned my feelings toward that nickname more than a few times, Roman.”

“Ah, come on, Mr. Berry.  You know how much you love it.”  Roman looked as if he would have gladly kept on needling Logan, but the slightest increase in the crease of his brow told him it was best not to continue.

“So, are we ready?” Thomas asked after a brief awkward moment.

“Yeah, I think so,” Virgil replied, looking to his Papa for confirmation.

Logan smiled.  “Yes, I believe you are.  Remember, be home by ten.  Otherwise, do have a good time tonight.”

Virgil smiled and pulled his Papa in for a hug.  “Love you, Papa.”

“Love you too, son,” Logan answered as they pulled apart, Logan beaming at his son.  Virgil smiled back and got to his feet, turning to join his two friends as they headed back to the rear gate they had first come through.

“Just remember to try and bring some of the candy back tonight.  Just because you can eat eight times as much as the other boys doesn’t mean you should.”

“Okay, Pops,” Virgil called back as he carefully stepped over the fence into the back alley behind their home.

Just as Virgil turned to follow Roman and Thomas down the block, Logan heard the back door open and close behind him.

“Oh no, did I miss him?  I wanted to wish him well before he headed out for the night.”

Logan turned to look down at his husband.  Patton’s short, squat form was slumped slightly in disappointment.  Logan wrapped his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.  I’ve told him to be back by ten, so I’m certain you’ll still be able to see him tonight.”

Patton frowned up at Logan.  “Ten?  But didn’t we agree he could stay out later on weekends?”

“Yes, but I felt it prudent to pull back on that for tonight, considering the fact that he got hold of one of the new cherries.”

Patton paled at that.  “What?!  Is he okay?  Did it do anything to him?  Do we need to–”

It took a few moments to get Patton to calm down enough for Logan to explain what had happened.  Once he did, he allowed Patton to rant out his feelings, from relief that nothing else had happened to Virgil because of their formula, to anger at Virgil’s poor decision, to the exuberant joy at having finally managed to get the formula to stop affecting humans when consumed via the fruit.  By the time Patton had tired himself out, the sun had fully set, and the two were seated together on the back porch swing, lazily rocking back and forth and staring up at the stars.

“Logan,” Patton suddenly asked, “do you think we’re bad parents?  I mean, Virgil wouldn’t be stuck like this if we had done a better job of taking care of him.”

Logan didn’t respond.  He thought back to his own ruminations on that subject from earlier.  But then he remembered all the times they’d had this conversation in the past, both with each other and with the counselor they’d sought out after the original incident.

“We’re not perfect,” he finally replied, but quickly continued when he felt Patton deflate slightly beside him.  “But just because he’s not completely normal doesn’t mean we failed him.  We’ve taught him what’s most important in life:  to be kind and generous, loving and helpful.  To be a good person and to take care of himself and others.

“Even if he’s a bit bigger than normal, it’s not the size of his body that’s going to really matter.  It’s the size of his heart, and his is the biggest I’ve ever seen, except for maybe yours, mon couer.”

Patton giggled slightly at the old nickname and leaned up to meet Logan’s lips in a loving kiss.

The two would have probably gone on like that for some time, had a series of shrieking laughs not broken them out of their reverie.  Looking down to the end of the alley, they could just barely make out a group of kids running down the alley from a towering zombie with dyed purple hair.  Virgil was doing his best to keep up the act, but he couldn’t help but break character briefly to wave at his dads as he passed, Thomas and Roman jogging behind him to keep up.

Logan chuckled lightly at their son’s antics.  “No matter what happens, I’m sure our boy is going to be just fine.”

Patton nodded in agreement, leaning his head into his husband’s chest as they resumed staring up at the stars.  Logan was right.  They weren’t perfect parents.  But they had loved their son so much, and would always do so.  And they knew they didn’t have to be perfect to know they had raised a son who was doing his best and who loved them just as much.

And if Virgil coming home on time that night and kneeling down to give his dads a big, strong hug before bed wasn’t proof of that, then they didn’t know what was.

[choupetit]

GOT Recap: The Bells

Airdate: 5/12/19  Season 8, Episode 5

I know it’s not good form to start off a post with “What in the actual hell just happened?!” but that’s all I have at this moment. How do I phrase this, exactly, without giving away everything right at the beginning of my recap?  All I can say is that this past episode of Game of Thrones was an epic and visually stunning piece of work and it also left me livid and disappointed in the turn that the creators have taken for the show.  We knew big things were coming, and come they did.  So without further ado, let’s dive in to the recap of “The Bells”:

Lord Varys sits at his desk at Dragonstone penning some letters – we get a glimpse of the scroll he is working on and it appears that Varys is spreading the word about Jon Snow’s true lineage as Rhaegar Targaryen’s legitimate son.  Wowzers, the master of whisperers is wasting no time with his agenda to rally the kingdom behind Jon’s claim to the Iron Throne!

There’s a knock on the door, and Varys quickly stows away his stationary.   A little girl of about 9 years enters to inform him that Queen Daenerys still isn’t eating and Varys says they’ll try again at suppertime. Apparently it’s been two days now and Daenerys Targaryen has holed herself up in her room, refusing to see anybody and turning away all meals.  The girl expresses worry that the guards keep watching her and Varys says “What did we discuss?” – “The greater the risk, the greater the reward.”  He sends his little bird off to the kitchen where she works.  Hmmmm, the nuanced conversation makes it unclear, but I’m wondering if Varys is trying to poison Queen Dany.  After last episode, it wouldn’t surprise me.  Yikes, Varys the spider is weaving a dangerous little web here.  His days are numbered for sure.

Later in the day, Jon Snow arrives via boat at Dragonstone and Varys greets him at the shore – Tyrion Lannister watches from a distance with a mix of concern and trepidation on his face. As they walk together, Jon lets Varys know the Northerners are two days away from King’s Landing.  Varys hints that he thinks Dany may be going crazy, and that Jon would be a much better Targaryen ruler.  As usual, Jon rejects the notion of ruling the realm – the dude doesn’t want it, ok? -  and he professes his loyalty to his queen before he trots off, leaving Varys behind.

Tyrion manages to pay a visit to Daenerys in her room.  She looks out her window as she speaks in a disconcertingly detached and monotone voice. “Somebody has betrayed me.”  -“Yup.” Without turning around she says, “Jon Snow.”  When Tyrion corrects her that it’s actually Varys, Dany does some creative deductive reasoning:  Varys knows about Jon’s parents because Tyrion told him – and Tyrion in turn found out from Sansa Stark whom Jon told.  Boom! Jon’s the traitor.  Case closed. Only wait, it’s not closed, because guess what? Queenie ain’t happy that Tyrion spoke with Varys without consulting her first.  She also points out that Sansa was playing Tyrion because she knew she could count on him to blab the info to Varys, which may as well translate to leaking the news to the Westeros Enquirer.  Tyrion attempts to defend his actions – he asserts that, as Hand of the Queen, he needs to know about information that is a threat to his boss, and yes, he made an error in judgment by not consulting her first. When he points out that Dany’s advisors are all trying to do what’s best for the world – Varys more than anyone- he realizes it doesn’t really matter. Daenerys agrees, it doesn’t.  Ruh roh, Varys!  I think we all were pretty certain he was gonna bite it soon – especially after Melisandre told him last season that he’d die in Westeros.   Looks like his time has officially run out.

It’s evening and Varys sits in his chambers, once again composing rebellion letters to his Westerosi – and maybe even Essosi – pen pals.  He hears footsteps marching down the hall and hastily burns his letter, then calmly removes his rings.  Dude knows what’s coming.  Unsullied guards enter his room and Grey Worm holds manacles in his hands.

At the shore, Varys is escorted by armed guards to face Daenerys, Jon and Tyrion.  Tyrion gives him the decency of letting him know it was he who snitched on Varys – in response Varys just nods.  “Yeah, that tracks.  I just hope it turns out I was wrong about Dany and that I deserved this.” I’ve gotta say, Varys who used to be so good at stealth and sneaking around has done a horrendous job at keeping his intentions a secret, so none of this is terribly surprising, even to him.  He bids Tyrion farewell with a warm squeeze to his arm.  Man, it’s so bittersweet.  Varys and Tyrion’s friendship and banter was something that was always super enjoyable in earlier seasons.  It’s sad to see it end like this, but he did have it coming.  Daenerys steps forward, and in that same detached voice from earlier, she informs Varys that he’s been sentenced to death.  She drones, “Dracarys” and out of the pitch dark behind her appears Drogon’s giant face.  Her dragon steps forward, stretches himself up and takes a deep breath, baring his teeth.  Then, POOF! Varys is engulfed in flames.  Yowzers, that was tense.  Jon just looks at Dany like “Khaleesi, you’re scary.”

Later that night, Dany sits sullen in a chair by the fireplace in her room, as Grey Worm stands nearby.  Daenerys hands Grey Worm a slave collar and tells him it was the only possession that Missandei brought with her when they crossed the Narrow Sea to come to Grey Worm. With a stoic frown, Grey Worm takes the collar and tosses it in the fire.

Jon approaches and Daenerys dismisses Grey Worm so they can speak in private.  He waits for Dany to speak first, and the monotone words that pop out of her mouth are “What did I tell you would happen if you told your fam? Ya know, Sansa is just as much to blame for Varys’ death as I am, because she couldn’t keep her big mouth shut. She betrayed you.” She goes on to lament that she was beloved back in Essos and here nobody loves her – all she has is fear. Feebly, Jon hits his soundboard button that bleats out “I love you. You’re my queen.” But it’s not the kind of love Dany wants.  And somewhere in heaven Ser Jorah is probably saying “See what it’s like, Khaleesi???!!!  It ain’t fun, is it?”  She leans in to kiss him, but when Jon pulls back she scowls and mutters “Ok, fear it is.” What the heck?  May I ask why Jon even bothered to come back if he isn’t going to at least try to talk Dany down from the bad place she is in?    

Also, I’m thinking if Daenerys made more of an effort at Winterfell, she probably could have won some people over.  Really, she just needed to do a few shots with Tormund during the feast, dance with Jon in a Scottish reel and then balance on her tippy toes and I’m sure the entire North would’ve gotten behind her.  Maybe not everybody will get my Titanic reference, but for the 4 people who do, it was worth it.

The next day in the throne room at Dragonstone, Daenerys talks battle strategy with her only two remaining advisors:  Grey Worm and Tyrion.  After Cersei killed her bestie, and Grey Worm’s girlfriend, they both are ready to torch King’s Landing.  Daenerys even goes as far as to blame the people of King’s Landing for not turning on their queen, as a justification for wanting to burn the city.  In a last ditch effort to reason with her, Tyrion tells Daenerys that the people of King’s Landing are scared to fight Cersei, because she’ll kill them and their families.  “Lame excuse! Well, guess what, Cersei thinks she can exploit my mercy as a weakness, but she doesn’t realize that my mercy extends to mercy killing future generations so they don’t have to live under a tyrant.” “Ummmm, I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, Crazy. Would you please consider a route that doesn’t involve killing thousands of innocent men, women, and children?  If they ring the bells,  that means they surrender.  Listen out for the bells, ok? Please???” Dany gives a grudging nod to Grey Worm and then tells them to wait outside the gates of King’s Landing until she gives them the signal to attack - they’ll know it when they see it.

Before Tyrion leaves the throne room, Dany goes “Oh, and by the way, my guards stopped your bro Jaime – he was on his way to King’s Landing.  So guess what, you were wrong AGAIN.  He hasn’t abandoned Cersei.  If you fail me one more time you’re toast. ” –“Ok, I got it.” –“No dude, like, literally. I will toast you with my dragon.” –“Yeeeeah…I got that part.” –“But really.  You’re gonna die.  With dragon fire.  M’kay, byyeee, see ya at happy hour!”

That evening, Jon and Tyrion arrive by boat to join Dany’s and Jon’s forces camped outside King’s Landing. The rear guard for the North won’t get there till morning and Tyrion says that Dany wants to fight asap, but Jon confirms, nothing’s gonna happen till daybreak.  Tyrion pulls Davos aside and asks “Davos, my man…I need you to do me a solid. You’re the world’s best smuggler, right?”  Davos knows he’s going to regret whatever comes next.

The Hound and Arya arrive outside King’s Landing that night and they make their way through the Northern camp.  When a soldier stops them, the Hound tells him it’s Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell and she’s gonna kill Cersei. The confused soldier goes to talk to his manager - and the Hound and Arya just traipse past.

Meanwhile, Tyrion approaches a tent guarded by Unsullied soldiers – he pulls rank and dismisses them, then walks inside the tent to find Jaime Lannister tied up.  Tyrion tells his brother he’ll only free him if Jaime agrees to get Cersei out of the Red Keep.  He informs Jaime of a secret passageway that runs from the basement of the Red Keep outside to the shore, and he’s arranged for a boat for them to escape.  Tyrion makes a big deal about telling Jaime to be sure to ring the city’s truce bells before he and Cersei make a run for it.  When Jaime asks him why he’s risking his life, Tyrion tells him he’s repaying the favor, if his death means saving the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people, it’s a fair trade.  Then Tyrion gives us all the feels when he tells Jaime that he was the only person that was ever kind to him when they were kids.  They hug and Tyrion sobs.  Awww, this is a really touching moment! I may have shed a tear or two.

The next morning, Euron and his Iron Fleet, lay in wait in the bay and ready their dragon-killing spear launchers – fun fact: that weapon is called a Scorpion.  You learn something new every day, folks! Team Cersei’s army prepares for the battle and it’s an overall tense scene with people clearing the streets – lots of shots of small children and babies being whisked indoors.  Among the frenzied crowd, Arya and the Hound walk into town.  They join a mob of commoners frantically running to the gates of the Red Keep to seek safety inside its walls.  The Golden Army marches outside the city gates and stands in formation.

Across from the Golden Army are the Northerners and Dany’s army, ready for battle.  Tyrion reminds everybody again to listen for the bells, as that is the sign that King’s Landing has surrendered.

From her tower balcony in the Red Keep, Cersei smiles smugly as her courtyard fills with innocent citizens – aka dragonfire fodder.  The guards start to close the gates – Arya and the Hound manage to squeeze in before the gates are shut.  Jaime is among the crowd of people who didn’t make it in.  He waves his golden hand around like a backstage pass, hoping the Lannister guards will see it, but they don’t.  Finally, he ducks down an alley, presumably to find another way into the castle.

The suspense builds as we get multiple shots of people on both sides waiting silently for the fight to start.  All’s still as the Iron Fleet looks out to the horizon for a glimpse of Daenerys and her dragon.  Euron suddenly turns to look up into the sun and sees a dragon coming down in a divebomb. The Iron Islanders scramble to aim their Scorpions at Drogon, but they’re too slow and a stream of dragon fire obliterates a line of ships.  It’s incredibly satisfying to see Dany and her dragon lay waste to the entire Iron Fleet in a matter of seconds.  

Daenerys then switches course for the walls of King’s Landing.  It’s really nice to see her actually using some type of strategy here – she keeps her dragon low along the water, then pulls up suddenly, expertly avoiding any incoming spears and again, she takes out a ton of Scorpions.  

On the other side of town, the Golden Army stands at attention outside the city gates – Captain Strickland stares off at Grey Worm and the rest of the Unsullied, Dothraki, and Northerners across the way.  Everybody waits in anticipation.  The Golden Army hear distant explosions from behind them when suddenly: BLAST!!! Dragonfire obliterates the wall and engulfs the Golden Army.  Dany’s and Jon’s forces charge into the city.  

The action plays out like a horror movie as we see glimpses of a dragon’s tail followed by more dragon fire and scorpions being torched.  It’s chaos in the streets as civilians run in a panic.  Cersei’s soldiers fight the advancing Dothraki, Northerners and Unsullied.  

Cersei watches it all from her balcony and her smug confidence wavers just a smidge.  Things aren’t going quite as expected.  

Tyrion makes his way through the burning carnage outside the city walls. 

 Meanwhile, Qyburn fills Queen Cersei in on the state of the city and it ain’t pretty:  All the Scorpions have been destroyed.  The Iron Fleet can’t defend them because…they don’t exist anymore.  And that fancy Golden Army?  They’re dunzo. Qyburn suggests they move on to Plan B and get the hell out of Dodge, but Cersei refuses and states that the Red Keep has never fallen before, and it won’t today.

Grey Worm, Jon Snow, and Ser Davos Seaworth lead the charge of men through the city until they come upon Cersei’s army barring the way.  Both sides stand in tense silence – neither one makes the first move.

Tyrion’s desperate gaze is fixed upon the bell towers in the distance.  They stand still and silent.  Jaime Lannister, in the meantime, has found a back way around the castle walls.

Daenerys and her dragon swoop over King’s Landing as the civilians below gasp in fear.  Drogon lands on a wall and lets out a ferocious roar. The crowd below is terrified. Dany waits.  After a long moment, Cersei’s army drop their swords.  A voice calls out “Ring the bells!”  Then another voice.  Over and over, people call out “Ring the bells!”  Cersei looks out at the city, she doesn’t give word.

From Dany’s perch on her dragon, she looks down across King’s Landing and then up at the Red Keep where she just knows Cersei is looking back.  It’s a 5-mile stare-off y’all and it’s super intense.

After what feels like an eternity, the truce bells finally chime.  Jon heaves a huge sigh of relief, as does Tyrion.  Dany glares at the Red Keep.  She sobs and there’s a brief internal struggle.  Hatred burns in her eyes and her dragon takes to the sky and flies toward the Red Keep.  Cersei watches as the dragon swoops overhead a crowd of civilians scrambling  in a panic.  And then…Drogon unloads a stream of fire, torching men, women, and children. Are you effin’ KIDDING ME?!  How is this happening???

What ensues is a senseless massacre as Dany and her dragon continue to burn street upon street of innocent citizens.  Back where Grey Worm and Jon Snow stand, the Lannister army hears a commotion behind them. The captain looks at them like, “Hey, what load of crap are you guys pulling?”  As the Lannister soldiers look behind them to see what’s going on, their captain turns back to face his enemies and Grey Worm launches his spear into the unarmed man’s chest.  Whoa, this is some serious foul play.

The Unsullied and Northerners charge into the unarmed soldiers.  Slow mo Jon Snow is NOT down with what’s happening.  I feel ya, Jon.  I feel ya.  He stops his guys from advancing and Grey Worm shoots him major stinkeye “You’re gonna betray your Khaleesi like that?” and continues onward with the Unsullied army.

The rest is a 40 minute long sequence of unspeakably horrific and brutal genocide as Dany and her dragon lay fiery waste to King’s Landing.  The streets have been turned into rivers of fire.  Cersei is STILL in her tower and looks on with the nervous realization that things are looking pretty bad for her.  Ya think?

On the ground, Ser Davos helps to steer the panicked crowd in a safe direction.  Women are raped and murdered in front of their children as Northerners, Dothraki and the Unsullied ravage the city.  Jon is still watching everything around him on the slow mo channel. What is even going on here?!

Dany’s dragon reaches the Red Keep and takes out a tower.  Meanwhile, Jaime has made his way to the secret entrance into the Red Keep, but guess who’s also there for absolutely no reason whatsoever?  Euron Greyjoy.  Yeah.  All Euron wants to do is be a d-bag and fight Jaime.  The two go at it, and eventually Euron critically wounds Jaime with a stab to the gut.  Spurred on by love, adrenaline, and lame writing, Jaime manages to fight back with a fatal blow to Euron and then Jaime continues on his way to save Cersei.  As Euron bleeds out on the ground he cackles like a madman  that he got Jaime good.  Really? We can’t spare any screen time for Daenerys’ descent into total madness but we can show this pointless scene?  Ok.

Even though the Red Keep is under fire, Cersei is holds on to the notion that things aren’t totally over for her – ahhh, denial!  Qyburn finally gets her to go with him to try their chance at escaping into exile.  As they head down the winding stairwell, we see the burning city and intermittent green explosions go off.  Wildfire reserves?  Were these remnants from the Mad King’s rule or did Cersei plant them as booby traps throughout the city?  I guess we’ll never know!!

While Drogon makes his rounds over the Red Keep, the Hound and Arya have snuck inside the castle and are in the map room where the walls are crumbling down. The Hound gives Arya a quick chat about revenge and what it does to people – he’s been after it his whole life. “Do you want to turn out like me?  If you go with me, you’re going to die here.” His words strike a chord and Arya realizes she chooses life.  She thanks him and hightails it out of the Red Keep.  Wait, what?  I was promised some Arya-Cersei revenge killing, with the possibility of face swaps, are you telling me that’s not going to happen?

Cersei and Qyburn scramble down the staircase with the Frankenmountain while the roof falls in around them.   As large boulders crash down, Cersei presses up against the wall and she is miraculously unscathed.  As the rubble and dust clear, they notice the Hound blocking the way.  It’s Cleganebowl time, y’all!  The Mountain is suddenly in Hound fighting mode – he doesn’t even listen to his queen’s commands and he smacks Qyburn out of the way, instantly killing him.  As both men stare each other down, Cersei nervously walks past them. “So…I can see you two have some unfinished business, Imma just squeeze by here and leave you to it. K, bye!”

When she gets to the map room, Cersei looks around with no direction.  She’s on her own.  But wait…no she’s not because…ta daaaaa, there’s Jaime!  Cersei falls into his arms, a sobbing mess.  Ugh!!

The Hound and the Mountain go at it while Arya navigates her way through the chaos of King’s Landing. She encounters crumbling buildings, hysterical mobs and burn victims at every turn.  At one point, Arya loses her footing and is trampled by the panicked crowd as dragon fire continues to sweep across the city.  We get a lot of cutaways between Arya and the Hound – both seemingly going through the same pain.  Everytime the Hound gets in a blow to the Mountain, it has no effect whatsoever. He manages to knock off Frankenmountain’s helmet in the fight and it’s like Darth Vader unmasked. As the Hound is brutally beaten by his big brother and pushed down to the ground,  Arya is squashed by the running mob.  She fights in vain to get back on her feet.  Maybe the cutaway technique is supposed to be poetic storytelling, but at this point I just feel so manipulated by the showrunners that I can’t even appreciate it. A woman helps Arya get back up again.

The Mountain simply will not die, despite numerous wounds that would have killed anybody else.  And then we are treated to his signature move:  boring his fingers into his adversaries’ eyes.  It’s so grotesque and I’m praying he doesn’t squish the Hound’s skull like a watermelon a la Oberin Martell.  The Hound fights Frankenmountain off with a dagger to his skull – it barely phases the bigger, badder Clegane.  In a last ditch effort, the Hound lunges at his big brother and they both tumble over the wall into the burning wreckage below.  RIP Hound, we loved you!  Sorry your bro is a weird undead zombie that can’t be killed!  Sorry you didn’t actually stand any chance whatsoever of winning that fight!  And sorry the writers suck!

On the ground, Jon Snow takes in the devastation around him.  Explosions of wildfire go off here and there and he commands his men to fall back.

Elsewhere in the burning city, Arya has passed out from falling debris.  She comes to, very likely concussed, and gasps for air. White ash is everywhere. More buildings crumble to pieces as she continues her escape out of the city. 

There’s a short-lived attempt to rescue some cowering women and children – the only one who follows her is the same woman  who helped her up earlier when she was being trampled.  Hold on, hold on…might this woman be…Jaqen H’Gar in disguise??? They’ve been giving her a lot of screen time.  But no, she’s just a random person we’re suddenly supposed to care for.   She and her daughter get charred to smithereens in the next scene when Dany’s dragon unleashes another blast of fire – Arya ducks out of the way in the nick of time.  Of course.

As the Red Keep continues to cave in and crumble around them, Jaime and Cersei head down to the basement only to find all exits blocked by rubble. There’s no way out.  Cersei finally realizes this is the end.  She blubbers that she wants to live and wants her baby to live and begs Jaime “Don’t let me die! Don’t let me dieee!” Ugh. Too little, too late, Cersei. Jaime holds her in his arms and comforts her.  He tells her nothing else matters besides the two of them.  The tune of The Rains of Castamere plays over the action and the ceiling crashes in on them. Ugh!  That’s how they die?  Lovingly in each other’s arms? No prophecy where her younger bro strangles her? Maybe I’m a spiteful jerk, but Cersei deserved much worse of a death.  And also, it seems pretty inconsistent that Cersei of all people has been reduced to a sobbing damsel in distress looking for a man to rescue her.  I’m so over this episode and the abominable writing that is going on throughout.   Arya should have killed Cersei, wearing Jaime’s face.  That’ something I think we all could have gotten behind.  Not this lame death where we’re supposed to feel sorry for queen biatch Cersei.

Hey guess what?  It’s time to watch Arya once again attempt to make it out of King’s Landing alive.  She sees the burnt remains of the mom and daughter she was helping, and a tear falls down her cheek.  As she looks around her, there stands a white horse just feet away.  She carefully approaches it and takes the reigns. Maybe this is supposed to be some heavy-handed symbolism, but I’m not feeling it.  Arya gallops off – presumably to safety.  Roll credits.

Wow.  What a heaping pile of you know what.  The aren’t enough question marks or expletives in the world to capture the incredulity and disappointment I feel about this episode.  Really, I was hoping this was just an elaborate Snickers commercial and at the end, Crazy Dany bites into a candy bar and turns normal again while a voiceover goes “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”  

But seriously, what the eff? Screw you, Weiss & Benioff!  What a betrayal of the viewers – the creators took years of complex character development and threw it all in the toilet with a cheap, lazy plot twist to turn Daenerys into a super villain with ZERO explanation of how she got there.

And making the audience watch 40 minutes of brutal slaughter and suffering was completely unnecessary. I’m so mad.  In the past, with these sprawling epic battle scenes, the viewer always had an investment and a side they were rooting for.  Just watching the genocide of an entire city with no chance of victory did not need to go on for as long as it did.  Clearly the creators wanted to drive home the point that there is no coming back from this for Daenerys.  We all have to hate her now and there is nothing redeemable about her.

Mostly I’m pissed because there was no transition from the Dany we saw to this monster who – after the city surrenders – torches all these people who are now her own subjects.  It doesn’t compute.  Sure, there were hints in the past that Dany could take brutal measures at times, but they at least had some kind of logic or rationalization behind them.  Killing a bunch of innocent people after you have been handed over the city and the throne that you so badly wanted…I don’t get it.  And it’s not my job as a viewer to fill in the huge gap of additional character development that needed to happen in order to get Dany from an angry, mourning queen, out for vengeance against Cersei into a psychopathic Hitler, killing everybody.  This is the same woman who locked her dragons up for who knows how long because they killed a little child when they were hunting for sheep.  Give me at least some way to understand how she could have changed other than just saying “She’s crazy everybody!!” Also, it ticked me off that they didn’t show Dany’s face even once after she went crazy. Hey, maybe Bran is actually evil after all and he warned into Drogon and did this all just to make Dany look bad!

All right, I’ll quit my whining.  This episode has kinda ruined the show for me and I don’t have high hopes for the ending. My guess is that Daenerys has to be killed now.  I don’t care if or how they do it.  Maybe Bran will warg into Drogon and kill her?  Maybe she’ll try to torch Tyrion and we’ll find out he’s a secret Targaryen and she’ll go even more crazy wondering just how many damned Targaryen sleeper cells are out in the world.

If Varys ever got any of his letters delivered, my assumption is those people will now back Mr. Jon “I hate responsibility” Snow.  He’ll probably also bite it or run off to the North to become a Wildling.  Then everybody will decide to put Sansa and Tyrion in charge, or better yet, they’ll break up into separate countries and Sansa can rule the North.  It’s not like there is actually a capital left in Westeros to rule from.  

At this point I’d also be totally fine with a Wizard of Oz ending where Bran wakes up after falling from the tower and tells everybody about his fabulous dream.  Sorry to end this all on a downer, but as Mad Queen Dany would say “It’s not my fault. It’s the writers’. They have betrayed you, gentle reader, not I.”  Just know, you’re not alone in your feelings.  Hang in there and I’ll see you next week, my friends. It’s gonna be a doozy.

[agl03]

Final Predictions:  How did I do?

What I got will be in BOLD and if I feel I need to add notes they will be in italics.  Might have to toss in a keep reading line because it is long.

Everyone’s favorite villains, Nathaniel, Kora, and SIBYL will all make it to the finale while Garrett will be killed or locked up by the end of the first hour (and it will use some of Fitz’s tech).

SIBYL will eventually get herself a new body.

Nathaniel will turn on Kora and try to take her powers and/or kill her.

Kora has already turned on him and he/we just don’t know it yet.  Either betrays him and helps her sister or tries to kill him herself in revenge for her mother.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  

Daisy will be the one to end Nathaniel and it will be oh so satisfying giant fight scene….even if we have to wait until the second hour for it.  Bonus points if Sousa get a hit in first too

Coulson, May, and Elena are able to get to space thanks to Coulson’s new computer Genius Super Power OR Garrett is ordered to bring them so they can lord their victory over them all.  

Even though they have pretty much ended Shield and Hydra in the “hot mess” timeline SIBYL and Nathaniel set their sites on the OG Timeline and/or Fitz once they realize he has come into the mix and ruins their plans in the hot mess timeline..   As they are both aware he is the one who ends their little party.

The Chronicoms will not all be super thrilled with what SIBYL has been up too or her methods.   This could be another thing that drives SIBYL into the OG Timeline.  

The battle between SIBYL and Coulson seems to have gotten a bit more personal so my money is on Coulson being the one to take her down.   Close second goes to May and Fitzsimmons.

Diana didn’t only block Memories of Fitz it took out the memories of people associated with him.  IE she is not going to remember her friends or Deke.

Deke will earn her trust quickly and be an A+ overprotective grandson of his Nana as they are rescued and get back to the team.

The team will rescue Deke and Jemma, take out a few Chronicoms, and Independence Day their way out of there.

While it won’t be the romantic Philinda some fans want we will see some quality Philinda banter over the finale as it seems they’ve settled into a good place between the two.   Coulson has also passed the torch of “team parent” onto her.

Philinda will not end as a couple.

At some point Sousa is really going to question what is going on and his life choices.  AKA He looks around stunned at what is going on.

More quality Dousy flirting and banter….they will kiss again and I do see them being a couple when things end.

Fitzsimmons family feels just a lot of them over the whole finale.  Iain and Elizabeth are going to murder us with feels.  I mean Fitz with his little girl.  I shall perish.

Despite not knowing everyone Jemma is going to be super insistent on building or activating a device (that has been stashed on the Zephyr) that she doesn’t know what it does but just knows she needs to build and activate it.  She will be the only one who can activate it and possibly it will take something very personal of hers to turn it on.  IE how she was hiding Fitz’s ring/necklace in Season 6 she might have the key hiding again.  But lets all freak out that Jemma will literally be the key to getting Fitz.

We won’t see Fitz until near the end of 12 if he is not the cliffhanger.  

That Bar place in the promo pics is either Keonig’s Bar or the Playground of the hot mess Timeline.  Seems to be some sort of secret Shield Base or what is left of them after the big attack as there are some random Shield agents milling/wth/who are these people in the background.  We know The Playground was off the books in the OG Timeline and would make sense it was also in the Hot mess.

Jemma will have her memory resorted relatively quickly after Fitz Kool Aid Man’s in all Star Lord from the portal thing Jemma activates.  And it’ll be the freaking power of her love for Fitz/her Family that overloads her (Gimme my Framework fix here).  Or Fitzsimmons have a fail safe password.  BUT GIMME TRUE LOVE.  Okay I’m calling this one close enough!

CUE THE SECRET CHILD REVEAL!!!!!!!!!!   Yes, I will be screaming.  The team will be stunned.

I’m sticking to my theory that they will give their daughter a “celestial” or astronomical name to pay off “One of these days we’ll find something magnificent out in space,” thing from Season 3 (especially if she was conceived on the way back from Kitson).  Or a name that is very reflective of their Scottish/English roots.  

Everyone needs to hold onto their hats because once Jemma has her memories back it will be because they are gonna want to get home to their Little Girl like yesterday and have one hell of a plan that involves saving the world and taking care of Nathaniel, SIBYL, and the Season 6 Finale attack on the Lighthouse.

This is likely where a ton of the Flashbacks come in.

Where has Fitz been?  He’s been back in our OG Timeline.  The finale confirmation for me came last week when Nathaniel revealed that SIBYL’s time stream couldn’t see him….or their daughter, and that thing sees EVERYTHING in the HOT MESS Timeline.  This would also be why Jemma’s messages didn’t reach him, she couldn’t get them to cross into the OG Timeline and this was something she would have known but Diana blocked as part of hiding where Fitz was.

How has Fitz been watching the Chronicoms?  Insert incredibly complicated timey whimy thing the writers came up with that me and my Marketing degree can not fathom so just go with it okay, via the using the Framework in the OG Timeline to get into the Chronicom’s system.  Little pay back for what SIBYL has been doing in the Hot Mess Timeline.  Him being connected to the Framework explains why he was so exposed.  Because when someone is hooked up to that thing they can get their heads cut off and not know it.

Now reunited and having dropped the baby announcement Fitzsimmons will present the plan for the “Final Mission” the team must embark on to save the world….again.  

And oh baby is it complicated.  

Part of said plan will have them back at the Lighthouse during the Chronicom attack.

The dudes that showed up with Jemma at the Temple will be explained.  IE I think its some of the team and they cleared out of the Zephyr before the time travel party got started.  They also may have grabbed other hunks of the monoliths.

The fight will take place in both the Hot Mess and OG Timelines  

We have not seen the last of the Monoliths.  The fact we are jumping timelines and have Flint in the mix over in the OG timeline makes me think they are gonna need Mr. Swirly’s help in doing said jumping (Mr. Swirly is the Grey Monolith).  Or they really go with the OG and its Harold (Black Space one) that allows for it.  Kind of fitting the Monolith that tore Fitzsimmons apart is now the one that reunites them.  

We will for sure see Enoch (via Flashback), Davis (please not by Flashback #davislivesagain), Piper and Flint as returning Favorites.  

If they have Davis back to life I just gesture exhaustedly at the Monoliths again.  Not even gonna try to explain it.

Small chance we run into the Hot Mess’s Timeline Enoch but he will have no relationship or connection to the team and will make me cry.  

Top Picks for SURPRISE not on the Press Release faces to pop up if we get them:   Ward (I mean really how have we not seen him again yet), Mace, Robbie, Bobbi, Hunter, Koenig (any of them) and Mike.    REALLY WANT IT BUT WON”T GET IT!   Dadcliffe  But YOUNG VICTORIA HAND HECK YES!

Who was keeping Fitzsimmons Daughter safe:  

Top Pick:  Piper and Flint:  Given Fitzsimmons would have run into them picking up the Zephyr and they could have been the “we had help” they talked about.

Second Place Because I Badly want him back:  Uncle Enoch 2.0

Left Field Surprise Option:  Huntingbird

LOLA RETURNS

We will get a lot of really fun callbacks to past stories or even lines IE “I’m just the Pilot” For May.

“What We Are Fighting For”:  Family.  The team family….and the Fitzsimmons family.  Also they will have gone 13/13 in that someone will say the titles name at some point in the episode.

We will see old weapons and tech from previous seasons make one last appearance, we’ve seen 2 so far in promos and will see more.

Shotgun Axe gets a proper send off in battle (this one is for Kiddo 3)

Bear will deliver the most amazing soundtrack that we’ll never get to buy.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story (Sorry Couldn’t Resist)

Nathaniel:  Dies, and we will all cheer.

SIBYL:  Dies, and we will all cheer.

Garrett:  Dies or locked up, won’t make it to the second hour.

Kora:  Toss a coin.  If she dies she killed for trying to take down Nathaniel.  If in her betrayal of Nathaniel she helps Daisy get Jemma and Deke back that could be a good starting place for the sisters to work thing out.   Starting place, she has a long way to go to get in good with Daisy and setting up an 11th hour redemption arc.

Mack:  Still so nervous for him based on how he has been in interviews, especially the SDCC ones last year.  He was so clearly upset by it.  So Mack either falls or does something so out of character (Bails before the finale battle which just is not making sense to me Mack is in such a good place right now) for Mack that Henry was upset by it.  Essentially I am very confused because what I am seeing on screen now isn’t matching with how Henry was talking as Mack has really come around since his Endgame stage.   Henry really I have no idea why you were so upset!

Elena:   Easily lives.  If Mack doesn’t die, wherever he lands she’ll be with him.  They’ve been a steady ship all season and I see no reason for them to break up outside of death.  And while I have a mountain of concerns for Mack, I have none for Elena..   I also see her still being a presence within Shield, she’s become a good solid agent, and bonus points if she keeps Flint with her….and he gets all the tacos he wants.  

Sousa:   Totally lives (they might give us a good fake out though because he and Daisy are becoming a thing)I can still see him being Director of Shield if Mack falls or steps down.   He’s a good Agent in a new time but he said he is right where he is supposed to be, at Daisy’s side.  Where she goes he goes.  IE he’s not letting her get away and will always be there after she runs into a wall.  So if Daisy leaves Shield, so will he.  If she stays so will he.  If she opens a coffee bar he’ll learn to make an espresso.  

Daisy:   Totally Lives, but there will be something about her ending that some fans won’t like and some fans are going to love.   Staying with Shield or no whatever she does will involve Inhumans be it the Secret Warriors are up and running again, she is mentoring and training new Inhumans coming into Shield, or my favorite option still is she reopens Afterlife.  I’ve been feeling that option for most of the Season and feel like it was really set up with Jaiying as was Daisy looking out for her little sister should the chips fall the right way.     The SS Dousy will be sailing right along.  IF Kora survives I can see her being in Afterlife as well, Daisy taking her mother’s passion that Kora has a good heart to heart herself.  

Deke:   Okay this one is weird because I feel like we are going to lose him somehow, but he won’t die.  I didn’t get the vibe from Jeff, Elizabeth, or Iain that he died and those three are pretty tight.  However,  in that I don’t think I’m going to get my Fitzsimmons Family all settling down in a giant castle in Scotland together.  They set up for him to make a sacrifice, he’s grown, and has something he’s really truly fighting for.   I have loved seeing how close he and Jemma have gotten and how fiercely he’s protected her and her secret.  Even in the face of torture he didn’t betray her.  It will come as no surprise if he doesn’t sacrifice himself somehow.  Either in taking a hit for his family or doing something similar to what he did in Season 5 to make sure they got home.  Bringing things full circle.   He also expressed that he wouldn’t mind being stuck in the hot mess timeline in ‘83.  He built himself a nice life there and Nathaniel did a pretty good job of taking out Hydra…with just a bit of Shield hanging on.  So if it comes down to it I don’t see him minding if he gets stuck there.  Sure him saying goodbye to Nana and Bobo is gonna hurt like Hades but if he ends up alive, I’m good.  

Fitzsimmons:  Both live, yes they will scare the crap out of us more than a few times especially after we know about the daughter, but they will live.  Totally peace out, we’ve done our time, leaving Shield with the adorable daughter and its Perthshire or Bust.   They’ve sacrificed enough and will not be willing to risk it again.

May:   Lives and reminds us all that she is one hell of a pilot.  If Mack decides he wants to step down, dies, whatever I’ll throw her back in contention for Director, especially as I see Sousa Following Daisy if she leaves.  Coulson seemed to have set her on that path and at the very least passed the “Team Parent” torch onto her, that it would be her job to give the Coulson talks to those who needed it.  If she’s not Director, she’ll be whomever is right hand, or I still have that option for the Academy being up and running and she’s running that, training the next generation.

Coulson: Lives.I know SHOCKING.   I think he was very ready to throw in the towel after spending 20 months in the TV but then Enoch’s moving words in his death were what changed his mind about ‘powering down” when this is all over.  Coulson realizes that yes, while it is hard to be the one to leave it is harder for the ones that are left behind but it’s also necessary that they move on, and live for those they have lost before.  Like Sousa and Fitzsimmons, he’ll be another that they’ll fake out death a few times.   I see him leaving Shield though, taking Lola and finally just going and seeing the world, watching the history he loves so much happen.  We get to see him driving around or even off in Lola for the last time.   Other options include he does something that will allow him to totally run with his new super computer super power.  The final thing I can see him doing is being the coolest professor at the newly rebooted Academy.  

[twogyus]

Time Spent Alone; [Johnny Seo]

Prompt: Being away from Johnny is hard, and you find it difficult to voice that thought. 

Word Count: 4220

Genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

Warning(s): SMUT, generally unstable behavior/ relationship dynamics

Sometimes you think he can't possibly love you. No, not as deeply as you love him. Because sometimes during his long absences, he forgets to call. He doesn't answer your messages, doesn't comment on the selfies you hate to take but take to send him anyways. The goofy ones are the most embarrassing, but one once elicited a response. Now you frequently crack silly faces and snap a picture to share with him.

Lately, you are lucky if he sees it within 4 hours of you sending it.

You bottle your feelings up inside. Every unanswered call or text is a shake to your system. You try your best to not resent him when you forage your brain for reasons he might be ignoring you. You settle for resenting his line of work. Being an idol had great benefits like worldwide popularity and wealth, unfortunately, it often called for sacrificing your private life.

Blaming work calms your restless behavior for a while. You remind yourself it’s what he wants to do and he is doing it well. It would be impossible to fault him for immersing himself to the point everything else fades into background noise. Except you find it’s not impossible. When you see the group has returned via photos on the internet, three days after their arrival, that the cap on your carefully bottled anger pops off.

You send Johnny a picture of you pouting and follow it up with an ‘I wish you were here </3.’

It takes two hours for him to see it. Two hours and fifteen minutes more for him to answer back.

The adult way to handle your situation would be for you to tell him you knew he had returned, for you to ask when you could see him. However, Johnny’s caring personality often reduced you to a childish mess. It was easy for you to give way to your anxieties when you knew he would be around to comfort you, but this time he isn’t and he hasn’t been for a while.

You tug your shirt down some and put your free hand to your cheek, squishing it for maximum cuteness. Your cleavage is enhanced by your arms pressing your breasts together. You take what you decide is your final picture of the day and caption it something sappy about half of your heart missing. You post it to all of your private social media accounts. You doze off half an hour later and consequently miss his call.

You have two missed calls when you wake. Both are from Johnny and both you willfully ignore due to sheer pettiness. Wanting him to match you call for call, however irrational that would be, you prepare yourself dinner instead of worrying.

Someone knocks just after your first bite.

You sit still until there is a second set of knocks, heavier this time. When you hear the door handle rattle your suspicions are confirmed. Sprinting to the door and throwing it open, you are greeted by Johnny. He grins down at you, moving in for a hug. You back out of his reach, motioning for him to come in. He promptly removes his hat and unhooks his mask from under his chin, leaving them on the stand to his right.

You tap your fingers on the door as you lean your weight into it. He is waiting for you to remark on him being here, in your house. He believes the last thing you had known was that he was still out of the country. Except it’s not and you have known for a few hours as of now. You aren’t happy, you are pissed.

“Come on, aren’t you surprised to see me?” He gestures to himself. You clearly aren’t.

“Not really. The internet alerted me of your arrival.”

“Oh, it was one of those days?”

Those days were the ones where you could find nothing better to do. Not working or hanging out with friends or colleagues, the internet drew you in before the options on an online streaming service could. He knew you occasionally dabbled in checking on the group’s whereabouts or dispatch releases.

“I’ve had about ten of those days since you’ve been gone. That’s seven days short of the three days you’ve been back in Korea.”

Johnny visibly deflates at your revelation.

“I can’t comprehend why you didn’t tell me sooner, Johnny. You know if you wanted time to yourself you could have just told me.””

He huffs in annoyance. “Really, you can’t just be happy to see me? I’m happy to see you.”

“Cool, thanks.” You’re not sure where he gets off acting like this isn’t a big deal. It had been over a month since you’ve seen each other. He’s drawn it out longer than necessary, you would have preferred his honesty.

“__, what do you want me to do, apologize? I’m sorry. Can we just enjoy being together now? You told me you missed me earlier, though now I realize you were teasing me for not telling you I was back…This isn’t really anything to be mad over since I’m right here, right now.”

You allow yourself to be pulled into his arms. Aggravation aside it feels nice. Face turned so your cheek is plush against his chest, he drops kisses along the top of your head. “Ew, my hair hasn’t been washed in forever, stop that.” When you try to slip away he holds you tighter.

“That’s gross but you should be delighted to know you smell as fresh as daisies.”

“God, you are the corniest stalk in the field. I hope you don’t rub off on me.” You appreciate it despite your jests. He laughs loudly. “Alright, I’m not any better after that. I’m still mad at you though. I wish you would have told me. I would have prepared something special.”

“You knew and you still didn’t wash your hair.”

You grimace, this time successfully removing yourself from his grasp. “I just assumed after three days back and not a word said, you wouldn’t be coming to see me any time soon.”

“So that picture you sent wasn’t supposed to entice me in the least?” He raises his brows, “You looked great by the way. I missed your face. A lot.”

“No, it totally was.” You walk over to the dish of food left on the table. “ I was aiming to give you blue balls since you wanted to be an ass.” You begin to pack up your leftovers. “Just think, we could have been having sex for three days straight.”

“Why can’t we still do that,” He comes up behind you to turn on the sink. You hand him your bowl to wash. “Let’s take that idea and run with it.” He does a poor job at scrubbing, eager to get his hands on you. Your back is to him while you shuffle things around in the fridge. “You ignoring me?”

You snort. Not answering his one question and he’s asking if you’re ignoring him. You find it ironic and so you keep your mouth shut. You hear the water shut off.

He grabs you around the waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Baby, what’s wrong? You said so yourself that you need alone time occasionally. That can’t be what all this is about.”

“And why can’t it?” It’s easier to explain away. If you say that then you can maintain your dignity.

He’s turning to nuzzle his nose into your neck despite you attempting to escape his reach. He tugs you closer each time until you’re flush against him. He drags you away from the fridge and down the hall to your bedroom. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he makes you sit, ”but if you’re gonna be will you at least tell me why?”

You shake your head because he deserves an answer that you aren’t willing to give. Johnny is an easy read and you can see his patience dwindling with every quiet second. You chance it that he’ll understand your neuroticism even the slightest bit. “Did you really not come to see me because you wanted to be alone? Just a yes or no question.”

“Yes.” He’s silenced by a wave of your hand prior to his elaboration.

“Well, I don’t care if you want alone time, Johnny.” He looks utterly confused at your short tone now. “I want alone time sometimes too, and I get it whenever you have practice or need to shoot in a foreign country.” You are picking at the skin around your nails, “Except it's not three days of alone time when you go away, it’s weeks. So I’m a little mad that we’ve gone an entire month without seeing each other and you chose to prolong it.”

Johnny is used to you being open about when you want to be left alone. It’s a rarity, however, when you say that you want him around.  When he’s absent you never ask for him to see you, you offer to come see him. Throughout the course of your relationship, you’ve never once said you missed him. Until today that is. It’s why he came over instead of waiting until the next day as planned. “__, I. I hope you don’t think I did this because I didn’t want to see you. That’s not the case at all.”

You pinch at the bridge of your nose. It would be best for you to forget about the whole thing now that you’re together again.  “You’re off either performing and having the time of your life and my quote-unquote alone time is spent waiting for you to message me back or to pick up when I call.“ Sadly, everything that’s been bothering you is on the tip of your tongue, pushing at the backs of your teeth, begging to be let out. “Both of which are rare occurrences as of late. Honestly, John, it’s getting tiring being placed on the backburner.”

Johnny would never say that you were crazy, but he thinks about it sometimes. “Don’t be ...I’m not out there having fun all of the time. My work might be different than your desk job but it’s still work to me. I don’t always like doing it, not every day is a walk in the park.” He feels terrible about it, but it’s a fleeting thought he has when you’re angry with him..“I wanted time alone because I’ve been cooped up with the group since July.”

“God, I know that, I get that part!” You could scratch your eyes out and it would be less painful than having this conversation. You only continue because you don’t want him to leave and he will the second you clam up. “But it’s not about this singular occurrence, it’s a built-up mass of obsessive, negative concerns about our relationship.”

Johnny is starting to develop a massive headache. He’s reminded of why he wanted to be alone. He’s a fixer by heart, he sees someone needing help and he goes to them no questions asked. It’s nice for him to have time to himself, to not worry about the problems of others or the image he has to maintain in public. “What can I do?” But ultimately he loves you and hates to see you disgruntled more than usual.

As much as you want to hold on to your grudge, to keep the burning under your skin alive, you know if you don’t stop now you won’t forgive him in the near future. “Nothing.” You shake your head, “You can’t go back and answer my calls, reply to my messages. Take away the agitation I had,.. that would be nice but it’s altogether impossible.”

“There has to be something,” That’s code for he isn’t leaving until he feels you’ve let go of your resentment. He places a hand on top of yours. When you don’t pull away after a few seconds he trails it up to your elbow for leverage to tug you into his arms.

Johnny’s warmth does nothing to comfort you now, in fact, it makes you uneasy. Typically you will let yourself wallow until a numbness sets in and your tears dry. You’ll lay back in bed and stare at your ceiling fan, letting yourself go cross-eyed as you watch the fast rotation. If that doesn’t work, you’ll turn over onto your stomach and shove your hand down your pants and scream into your pillows. You hum at the idea.

“What is it?”

You hesitate to answer him, opening and closing your mouth a few times. “You could make me forget for a while if you’re up for it.”

He catches on immediately but wants to hear you say the words. He can practically feel you vibrating with anticipation in his hold.

“I want you to touch me.”

“You do?” He leans back to look at you. “Are you sure, because I was honestly afraid to even attempt hand holding a second ago.”

“It would be good stress relief, wouldn’t it? You know about this stuff better than I do.”

You mean he knows about calming people down, but Johnny’s had his fair share orgasms in a dirty stall mid-practice to get lessen his frustration. That’s where his mind wanders and he remembers it’s more of a band-aid than a long-term solution. Although, he half expected you to throw him out by now, so when you suggest this he nods. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, locking eyes before moving down to your lips, waiting to be turned away.

You meet in the middle, opening your mouth to him a second later. Tilting your head so the angle isn’t putting a strain on your neck, you grasp onto his shoulders. He licks into you and you become pliant under his guidance despite your fierce desperation. Johnny finds it weird how it’s easy for you to let go of control when it comes to sex, but difficult with anything else. He moves his hands to the back of your head to keep you close as he pushes you down onto the mattress.

A silence falls over the room when you part from each other. You shift further up the bed and he follows you, lying between your spread legs, mouth attaching to your neck. You arch your back and reach underneath yourself to undo your bra, throwing it to the side, then fumbling with your shirt until Johnny discards of it for you.

You instinctively cover your face when Johnny stops to stare at your bare chest. He runs his hands up and down your sides a few times before squeezing each of your mounds of flesh. You squirm against his cold touch and gasp when he tugs on your nipples. He keeps them pinched tight, listening to how your breaths turn shallow. His grip becomes tighter and tiny electric shocks run through you, causing you to cry out.

You are panting and your eyes have glossed over. Despite your pained noise, you haven’t asked for him to stop.  He sets out to replace his fingers with his teeth. You shudder under the wet heat, pushing yourself closer, yanking on his hair when his jaw goes slack. He eventually let’s go, choosing to trail his mouth down your stomach.

You busy yourself with trying to toe your pants down your legs, eager for whatever Johnny has planned. He pushes them past your knees and off one leg for to you to fling them to the ground. He further parts your thighs for his body to better fit when he shuffles lower. Face level with your pussy, he looks up to see you still hiding. “Is this okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?” You want to kick him but you wouldn’t actually dare. You wish he would just take what he wanted and get on with it. That’s what you did for yourself. You never drag it out, managing to work yourself to an orgasm in less than ten minutes when infuriated. “Just make me cum, please.”

He draws his brows together. You were too shy to look at him but okay with telling him to make you fall apart?  He separates your folds and proceeds to groan at the sight. Though surprised at how visibly wet you are, he finally comes to the conclusion of why you don’t want him to touch you after you’ve argued. You cannot fathom wanting him to touch you when all you need is for him to leave you alone.

You tremble as he leaves gentle kisses along your inner thighs. His fingers prodding at your entrance nearly driving you insane. He strokes a finger through your wetness a couple more times before pressing it into you. Your walls suction him in deeper and you ask for another. Johnny tentatively smiles at you, relieved to see your eyes uncovered and nervous to displease you at the same time. When he brings his mouth to your bundle of nerves your eyes roll back and you clutch at the pillow under your head.

The pleasure you are feeling quickly replaces any overpoweringly negative emotions. You realize you shouldn’t be changing your mind because of sexual gratification, but you can’t help it when he’s got his lips suctioned around your clit. As the flat of his tongue rubs against it you gasp, drawing the sound out as his fingers pick up their pace.

Johnny uses his free hand to hold you flat when he starts working in a third finger. He can hear you cursing his name at the stretch, though your soft pets to his hair are your way of rushing him. He glances up just to see you’ve hidden your face from his view again. “Are you good?”

The tone in which you call his name has his mind spinning. Half of him wants to stop all of this in order to fuck you senseless. The other half knows it’s better to give you what you want before asking for something in return. At the slide of his thumb against your clit, your hips buck despite his hold on you. He can sense your impatience and replaces his thumb with his tongue.

Your walls clench down on his digits and you will yourself to let go, ultimately finding it impossible. You bite at your lip and adjust the angle of your hips to change the trajectory of his pistoning fingers. You huff not knowing what more to ask for.

Johnny’s lips are sealed over your bundle of nerves and his tongue is pressing quick circles around it. You can usually come from that stimulation alone, but something is stopping you from falling. Even his speedy thrusts deep into your pussy aren’t helping you over the edge.

It’s after he takes one of your hands for you to squeeze instead of yanking on his hair that you realize what’s wrong. You have to call his name a few times before he dislodges himself, . His mouth is glistening as he questions you. “I want you to choke me.” At once he appears skeptical of your request.

“Baby I don’t think…”

“But I want you to. I need you to. Please?” Face typically shoved into your pillow as you ground your hips down onto the heel of your palm, the lack of oxygen got you off more than any well-placed friction. That desperate gasp of air and the sensation that comes with it is cathartic. If he wasn’t planning to wrap his hand around your neck in the next minute you were tempted to ask if you could at least choke on his dick.

He nods slowly, reaching forward cautiously. Just the weight of his hand has you arching into him. You tell him to squeeze harder while you begin to move against the other hand in between your legs. He pumps his fingers roughly, seeing no point in being soft when he can feel you pulsing around him, instantaneously letting out strangled moans.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” The idea of you not being able to answer him has his cock aching. And the mere sight of you has his breath faltering. “You don’t want an apology, just wanted me to make you feel good, is that it?” He hated to admit that having you pinned down after facing your verbal lashing makes all of it feel righted.

You make an affirmative sound and grab onto his wrist, trying to anchor him to you. As he crooks his fingers upwards and switches his main focus back to your clit, your eyes are closing in ecstasy. The build-up of pressure in your core and knowing that Johnny has control over your breathing has you wound tightly in minutes.

A few more rough swipes of Johnny’s thumb has you throwing yourself back into the mattress, ripping his hand from your neck to fully breathe in. He continues to shower attention on your clit, enjoying the feeling of your walls clamping down on the fingers inside of your pussy.

He stares down at you, amazed that restricting your breathing made you cum undone in such a short amount of time. He withdraws his fingers and wipes them on your comforter while you turn on your side to curl in on yourself.

When he sees you clutch your arms to your chest, Johnny snaps out of his trance. Draping himself around you, he moves away the pieces of hair stuck to your forehead. He’s sure you can’t ignore his erection poking against your ass but decides to cast his libido aside for the time being.

You can feel the words he speaks against your shoulder. “What’s wrong, __? Didn’t that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” you mumble, shying away from his view once more. “I just.. That’s not weird is it?”

“Lots of people are into breathplay, babe, you aren’t alone.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You give a long sigh before twisting around to face him. “I just got done reading you the riot act and then I ask for you to choke me and make me cum. You can cause me so much anguish,  yet I always want you around. I don’t want you to think I can’t live without you, Johnny, but that’s what it feels like sometimes.”

“Is that why you were mad I didn’t respond to you every time? You didn’t want to be the only codependent one?.” He takes your silence for as a yes. “__, you aren’t crazy because you wanted me to pin you down, that’s something to discuss another day. But as for you assuming, I don’t think about you while I’m away, that’s insulting. I’m constantly wondering what you’re up to, or seeing things stupid matching couple crap I want to buy for us, or something you’d find funny.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t pick up every once in a while and tell me that though.” Your previous actions have taken away your will to fight. At this point, you’re willing to take whatever he has to say into consideration.

“You’re so independent. You don’t bother me when I’m busy with practice or promoting. I assumed when you were contacting me while I’m away you were just…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously, you care more than you let on, and I’m happy to know that.”

“Looks like both of us assuming things just made an ass out of you and me.”

Johnny cracks a smile. “Who was the corniest stalk in the field again?”

You push him away to just follow as he rolls onto his back. You lean over him. “I’ll admit I got a little carried away,” you clear your throat. “Maybe a little more than a little. Anyway, I’m sorry, I know I could stand to be more clear about stuff. I’ll work on it, just as long as it’s clear that I love you.”

The expression he makes has you blushing, wanting nothing more than to clam up. He coos and pulls you down to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I love you too, and If you’re up to hearing me whine about how much I miss you, then I can make an effort as well.”  

You feel...content. Normally, after an argument, you avoid each other until it became unbearable. You rarely apologized, that was more Johnny’s thing. He long ago came to understand that you even admitting a wrongdoing was difficult. This is new to you, and you feel as if your apology is somewhat insubstantial. “Is there anything else I can do to make it up?”

Johnny fakes a yawn, folding his arms under his head. “Don’t worry, you’ve done enough. This has all been super draining, I think I might need a nap.”

You raise your brows. “I was imagining the many ways I could repay you,” you trail a hand across his stomach, “ but I could most certainly use a nap.” Before you can turn around he tugs you closer so you’re chest to chest. He hauls one of your thighs over his lap. You sit up to straddle his waist.

“Forget what I said, please, enlighten me with your ideas.”

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Pixey has released her new EP Free To Love in Colour as well as the video for stand out track 'The Mersey Line'. Speaking about the EP, she says: “I wanted a collection of tracks which gave a quick snapshot into me and my brain – where I’m from, where I want to be and what I’m thinking about. I hope people can take something meaningful from it or simply have a dance.” Of the new video for ‘The Mersey Line’, she adds: “‘The Mersey Line’ video was shot in one day at all my favourite haunts around the city. The song itself is about the walkway line along the River Mersey, so we retraced the steps I used to take as a kid and also when I was starting out as a musician. I would write lyrics to my songs along the same path. I wanted something that sums me up wholly as a person, and I’d say the video does just that.” [via Dork]

After turning a short TikTok video shot in her car into an empowering body acceptance anthem with over 70 million streams, Vancouver-based pop singer and songwriter JESSIA shares the music video for her breakthrough anthem 'I’m not Pretty' via Artist Driven Records/Republic Records. Watch the video directed by Benjamin Lussier. In the visual, JESSIA steps through the looking glass to confront her insecurities in a playful and tongue-in-cheek kind of way and falls down a rabbit hole into an imaginary yet cinematic eye-popping peach filled wonderland inspired by Roald Dahl’s ‘James and The Giant Peach’.  The video illuminates the rising artist’s fun and quirky persona, which is as infectious as the song itself. On shooting the video for 'I’m not Pretty' JESSIA says, “Filming the music video was such a surreal experience.  I kept looking around set and asking myself, ‘are all of these people here for me and my song? What? Am I really here right now? What a time. It was such a party on set! SUCH A BLAST!”

Feminism often focuses on the pressures placed on women in society, but men face their own set of pressures as well, and these are very much connected to the oppression women face. Would we have such high rates of domestic abuse if men weren’t taught to express themselves through violence? Would the sexual assault epidemic be what it is if straight men were not taught to view women as conquests? And if men could be free from these constraints, how would the world look different? Stockholm-based pop artist Elin Blom, known by her stage name FELIN, explores questions like these in her latest single 'Dear Boys,' an open letter to men who commit violence and mistreat women. “Dear guys/did your parents treat you right?/or did they teach you not to cry?” she sings against deceptively upbeat drums and bass. The song is intentionally poppy with an edge and roughness to it. Written at an all female writing camp in Stockholm, it utilizes an all-female writing and production team. With the single, Blom wanted to send her listeners the message that “it isn’t manly to be an asshole and not care about how you treat your children or care about how you treat women,” she says. “It isn’t manly to crack sexist jokes; that’s just rude behavior. It’s way more manly and brave to wear a dress no matter what your friends think, or to speak up against abuse or abusive and sexist language.” In the video she looks at the more positive side of the equation, celebrating people who don’t confirm to their gender roles with shots of actors exhibiting a variety of gender expressions and styles. In the beginning, she speaks out loud: “My heroes are those who dare to express who they are, fully, with no holding back. This is about those heroes; this is their moment. It was important for us to find a mix of men in different ages, with different sexualities and backgrounds, to show that it’s okay to wear [whatever] and be whoever you want no matter what you do for work, where you come from, or where you live,” she tells Audiofemme. [via Audiofemme]

For a record about the tedium of teenage life in the suburbs, 'Wasteland' is quite the grandiose introduction. The first single released ahead of Alex McArtor’s Welcome to the Wasteland EP introduces the project as both an opus of both catchy electropop and swelling orchestral compositions, all cowering behind the bold, slightly country-twanged voice of the young vocalist. The single arrives today alongside a darkly bizarre visual co-directed by (with Dwyer O’Brien and Ava McArtor) and co-starring (with O’Brien, Ava, and Campbell Barton) the vocalist, with McArtor name-dropping David Lynch as an influence. “‘Wasteland’ is the opening scene of this sonic film I had in my mind that turned into the Welcome to the Wasteland EP,” she shares. “It sets up the characters that are present throughout the rest of the EP and the environment in which they live, both spiritually and physically. ‘Wasteland’ represents a person, a place, or a feeling of recognizing a dead end. It’s like being stuck inside this geodesic dome and feeling controlled or watched by Big Brother and yet knowing that there is something else going on somewhere else.” [via FLOOD]

Back in January, Quilt frontwoman Anna Fox Rochinski announced her solo debut Cherry. The latest cut from Cherry is called 'Everybody’s Down.' Here’s what Rochinski had to say about it: “'Everybody’s Down' is a song that’s meant to be a little abstract but is generally about feeling run down and bewildered by rampant complicity during catastrophic times. EVERYBODY’S down, including you and me. And yes, also, “down” like bummed, if that speaks to you. And yes, also “down” as in, just casually down to do something, like, down to go grab food with your homies or whatever. It’s a triple entendre. We all feel all of these things every day. It’s a lot. Literally all I can do anymore to stay sane is have a sense of humor and laugh at stuff. I am so much less randomly sentimental than I used to be, but I think it’s because I have learned what really deserves my love and attention. There was a primordial version of this song that I brought in to (album producers) Carlos and Julian, but in the studio, we would visit it at the end of the night after all our serious work was done and throw stuff at the wall to see what would stick. It was like a way to release tension, and we didn’t take it very seriously. We made this minimal, weird, scuzzy instrumental with bass, guitar, synth and programmed drums, and I then took this raw creation home and worked out the structure and the melody and lyrics. In the end, I fell in love with this song, much to my surprise." Musically, 'Everybody’s Down' continues Rochinski’s exploration into a plastic disco-funk like its predecessors. It’s accompanied by a video directed by OTIUM. [via Stereogum]

Molly Lewis is a world-renowned whistler from Australia. In recent years she has been based in Los Angeles, where her Café Molly events have supposedly attracted the likes of Karen O and Mac DeMarco. Now the esteemed indie label Jagjaguwar announced that it has signed Lewis. Her first single for Jagjaguwar, 'Oceanic Feeling,' is out now. It’s a peculiar song with an even more peculiar video. 'Oceanic Feeling' is a wordless ballad that, between its high lonesome gallop and Lewis’ whistled melody, seems like it could be shoehorned into an old Spaghetti Western. But there are also elements of lounge jazz and exotica in the mix, particularly when Leon Michels’ saxophone enters halfway through. In the video, Lewis dresses like a medieval maiden(?) and music-adjacent Hollywood star and Café Molly regular John C. Reilly mimes the sax part while wearing an outfit that recalls the Burger King. I am not sure if any of this could be described as “good,” exactly, but it’s definitely unique! [via Stereogum]

Mannequin Pussy have announced a new EP, Perfect, their first new material since 2019’s excellent Patience. Last week, the Philadelphia-based band announced that founding guitarist Thanasi Paul had left the band, which means that Mannequin Pussy are forging ahead as a three-piece. Last year, they got together to record five new songs with producer Will Yip, who also produced Patience, that were influenced by our past year of collective isolation. 'Control' is the first song they’re sharing from the EP, and it starts off slow and methodic, as bandleader Marisa Dabice insists: “I’m in control/ That’s what I tell myself/ When all the walls around me close in.” Mannequin Pussy’s songs have often been about trying to enforce some control over uncontrollable emotions and exploding when that’s just not possible, and sure enough 'Control' bursts apart in its second half, a dizzying but still pretty escalation of guitars and noise. [via Stereogum]

Bloxx have dropped a brand new single, ‘Everything I’ve Ever Learned’. The track is the first new material from the band since last year’s debut album Lie Out Loud, and is produced by Rich Turvey (Blossoms, Oscar Lang). Speaking about ‘Everything I’ve Ever Learned’, Fee Booth explains: “The last two years for me have been very difficult, with health scares and anxiety hitting the roof. This song was really important in my journey to stop trying to understand everything, and to just accept the cards you’re dealt and make it work for you. It taught me to keep holding on, even when your grip is loose. The depth of what it means to me as a person is so crazy for just a four minute piece of music. It faces the trials of life, and everything that you wish you’d have been taught before having to face it all brutally, in the real world. It’s basically a self help song, it’s for everyone that needs to hear it. “You should learn to hold on, it’s not the end of the world” [via Dork]

Before the pandemic hit, beabadoobee was set to tour with Phoebe Bridgers and Dirty Hit labelmates The 1975. While that trek obviously never got on the road, the UK-based songwriter still managed to link up with 1975’s Matty Healy and George Daniel to collaborate on the follow-up to her excellent debut album, Fake It Flowers. beabadoobee is now previewing that effort, cleverly titled Our Extended Play EP, with the new single 'Last Day on Earth'. Fans have long known of the mutual appreciation between bea and Healy, and the pair have been teasing their collaboration for some time. The new single is rather clearly the result of beabadoobee’s sound meeting The 1975’s. That distinct ’90s indie melody that made Fake It Flowers one of 2020’s best albums carries through here, only now the vocal cadences recall some of Healy’s more measured moments. The result is a dreamier, more lighthearted beabadoobee, further closing the gap between the nostalgic styles that originally inspired her and modern indie music. Unsurprisingly, it remains as infectious as anything either artist involved in its creation has ever done. “With this EP, it’s kind of alluding to the fact that I kind of want to, you know, have a sound that sounds like beabadoobee rather than someone saying it reminds them of something else,” beabadoobee tells Consequence. “I don’t think it’s a whole new era just yet… I still have blonde hair, the same blonde I had for Fake It Flowers, and every EP I have is almost like who I am right now — right this second. That’s everything I write about in this EP. I haven’t really changed my look and I always base eras on my look, like, ‘Oh, what color am I going to dye my hair this time?’ But I’m pretty comfortable right now. I’m pretty chill.” 'Last Day on Earth' comes with a video directed by Arnaud Bresson of Division Paris. The clip finds beabadobee exploring all the things she would have done if she’d known normalcy would be stripped from us a week in advance. [via Consequence of Sound]

Inspired by Nestlé TV adverts, K-Pop music videos and the Oscar-nominated 70s film Five Easy Pieces, Irish pop icon CMAT has shared a new video to accompany her fourth single ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’. Adorned in a fabulous snake-skin blazer and skirt combo, the pop starlet performs an impressive and joyful dance routine opposite a mute bearded beauty who’s Instagram followers are set to double in the next few hours. “The director Eilís approached me some time ago to make a music video, and I really wanted it to be for ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’ because I knew she would be able to capture the high energy mood of the song, and also we are into the same old, niche and ugly design stuff,” CMAT explains. “The dream sequence was inspired by a Nestle ad from the 1980s. The choreographer, Nick, made my dreams come true. I was like, ‘I want to dance like Blackpink, but I have absolutely no technical ability whatsoever.’ I think that much is evident in the video but we pulled it off!” Full of CMAT’s lush, yearning vocals, relatable lyrics and Americana-tinged guitars, ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’ is a song that sees her swallow her pride and admit to sometimes being “the bigger dickhead in a relationship.” The witty set of accompanying visuals show CMAT at her finest, exuding a charisma that lights up the screen as she leans into “the Marian Keyes of it all.” [via Get In Her Ears]

Nordic pop sensation Anna Of The North has shared her new single 'Here's To Another'. The songwriter swoops back into action, crafting a follow up to her Internationally successful 2019 album Dream Girl. A new album will follow later this year, with 'Here's To Another' finding its way online. An all-out Scandi pop banger from one of the best in the game, the single is a finely sculpted slice of electronic melody. 'Here's To Another' twists and contorts, before its final head-long release results in a glorious chorus. [via Clash]

American songwriter Natalie Bergman has shared new song 'Home At Last'. The new single dips into her country and Americana roots, while adding some soothing gospel elements. There's some sumptuous harmonies sitting around her voice, a soft pillow for Natalie Bergman to relax into. The beautiful video is online now, shot in an abandoned chapel, one that brings out new meaning to her lyrics: “Answer my prayer, when a great man falls and the skies collapse, where’s the joy in this world, is he home at last?” Natalie explains... “I have always written songs about ‘home.’ A place that is not on this earth. It brings me a great deal of comfort knowing that place is waiting for me - especially when life can be so alienating and lonely... In the video for ‘Home At Last’ I found a small chapel in Los Angeles and the moment I saw the stained-glass... I felt like it belonged to me. One of the best things about making music is sharing it with the people you love. Playing it with your friends and family. I invited my favorite artists to be a part of this performance and I asked them to think about what heaven might look like to them.” [via Clash]

UK band Crawlers may only have three other singles but they’re definitely not your standard alternative indie underdog. The group of four secured air time on BBC radio and were featured in two Spotify editorial pages. Their new single 'Statues' came out on the nineteenth. It only proves this bands remarkable character. The vocals corrosively discharge acerbic phrases, “You make me so calm, let the statues fall”. Holly Minto invites you to participate in tormented ambiance. The guitar slays the entire track, no thanks to Amy Woodall, jolting the listener out of an ignorant slumber. The guitar makes for a perfect incumbent of the perforating bass put down by Liv Kettle. Now the drumline is a total antithesis, very classic rock/n/roll. Harry Breen takes on the persona of a grounding buddha by producing a converse rhythm. It’s like he is having this eloquent conversation with the rest of the instrumentals. [via Sounds Good]

Nashville-based songwriter Madi Diaz releases her new single/video, 'New Person, Old Place.' Madi recently marked a full restart of her career with the evocative 'Man In Me,' a first offering showing how she’s capable of distilling profound feelings with ease. While 'Man In Me' took Madi through her first steps of a really hard time, 'New Person, Old Place' presents her further down the road, after processing the pain and loss of a breakup. She uses specific diction to describe feelings that are typically hard to verbalize: “I used to stay up on the off chance that you might call me back /  I used to go shopping for pain go through pictures it’s all I had / I’d sift through our memories and live there even when I wasn’t sad /  I used to, I used to, but now I don’t that.” Madi elaborates: “This was a moment I realized I wanted to start to learn how to do it not better, not worse, but just different… and then something shifted. Something in my heart finally knocked loose and I was breathing deeper. It’s hard as hell, breaking patterns and unlearning all the old shit, trying to shut all the doors that I used to open to let all the same hurt happen over and over. I’m at least learning to find new doors. ‘New Person Old Place’ is a mantra. A line that I’m casting into the future so that I have something to guide me forward. It’s something of a reminder that if my heart is the house that I carry with me wherever I go, I can take it somewhere new, or I can do the same old thing I always do but backwards or with a cartwheel, and I can repaint and I can rearrange the furniture. I can clean the mirrors so I see myself true and clear.” The 'New Person, Old Place' video was directed by $ECK and shot in Madi’s pickup truck throughout Nashville. The video follows Madi on a journey to the salvage yard, driving different versions of herself there to face her history.

Following the release of her viral rock cover of Miley Cyrus's 'Midnight Sky', which garnered over 341.5K views, Izzy T is unveiling her explosive new single 'Nuclear.' Featuring UK rap artist Ben Hunter, the almighty alt-rock-pop fireball of energy combines electric, raucous sass in a mix of fearsome beats and muffled, gritty guitar. Screaming enough is enough, the mantra of this song sits on a tidal wave of frustration, narrating the darkside of a relationship and how people can become the furthest thing from who they really are. Izzy shares, “This song has really paved the way for my new sound as an artist. I love big crunchy guitars and stompy beats, and the freedom to go from low and creepy, to high as the clouds with my voice!” With an underlying theme of empowerment in dark times, Izzy provides a voice that we can cling on to, emphasizing that we can do whatever we put our minds to.

[suchagiantnerd]

28 Books, 1 Year

Well, 2020, amirite? Staying home with a 4-year-old and a baby really decreased my reading time, bringing me to my lowest total ever since starting this blog. Here we go!

1. Her Body and Other Parties / Carmen Maria Machado

I rarely feel stupid when reading fiction, but this collection of short stories left me feeling pretty stupid. Machado's writing is visceral and gorgeous but what she's trying to say is mostly beyond me. Overall, the collection (as evident by the title) looks at the ways existing in a woman's body is fraught. Sometimes we want to escape our bodies, often our bodies are harmed or taken advantage of against our will, sometimes our bodies fail us. But as for the more nitty-gritty takeaways, I couldn't get there. One story in particular is staying with me. In it, Machado invents new summaries of each and every episode of Law & Order: SVU, telling a tale of a living, breathing New York City that requires regular blood sacrifices and in which everyone has a doppelgänger. I liked it, but definitely didn't get it.

2. Moon of the Crusted Snow / Waubgeshig Rice

This wonderfully chilling read takes place on a remote reserve in Northern Ontario. Over the course of a few days, cell service stops, the internet goes down, and the power goes out. With no communication possible with other communities, the reserve's residents can only guess at what may be occurring down south. As autumn creeps toward winter, the snow piles up and panic sets in. Eventually, a visitor arrives via snowmobile and confirms the residents' worst fears about the state of civilization while also asking to stay on in the community. Can he be trusted? Will others follow? This was a tense page-turner looking at the importance of community, preparedness and leadership.

3. Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar / Cheryl Strayed

Dear Sugar's advice to a person who didn't know whether or not he wanted kids is what turned me onto her. The answer was perfect. For someone on the fence, there is no right answer, no wrong answer. But there was a simple beauty to the way she said this. In this advice column collection, Sugar answers questions about love, parenthood, friendship, loss, death, finances, education, hopes and dreams. She insists again and again that we open our hearts and give forgiveness a chance while still maintaining healthy boundaries. And through her answers (and anecdotes) she showers love and care on so many devastated readers who are often writing to her as a last resort.

4. Girlfriend in a Coma / Douglas Coupland

We start the action with a Breakfast Club-type group of teens at a party in 1979 Vancouver. One of them, Karen, ends the night in a coma and doesn’t wake up for 16 YEARS. Also, turns out she was pregnant, and gives birth while in the coma. Richard, her boyfriend, raises their daughter with the help of his parents and friends, and by the time Karen wakes up again, the world has gone downhill. Not long after she wakes up, everyone starts falling asleep and dying except for the original group of friends and Karen’s daughter. I liked this novel as I’m a sucker for everything dystopian, but I also had to ask WHY? Why this random group of teens out of all the world? Why did Karen have to be in a coma for so long? How does it tie into the apocalypse? I still don’t know guys. I still don’t know.

5. How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence / Michael Pollan

Back in the 1960s, research on LSD was banned thanks to a moral panic. But today, scientists and therapists are starting to study its uses again. Pollan takes a deep dive into the future of LSD, psilocybin (certain mushrooms, and if I remember correctly, a substance that a certain toad secretes?!) and DMT, taking various trips himself with the help of trained guides. His vivid descriptions of each trip were the highlight of the book, and I find myself, someone who has never tried anything other than pot, wanting to try microdosing in the future.

6. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine / Gail Honeyman

The first of two contrarian reviews this year, I really didn’t like this book. I found Eleanor’s character and quirks completely unbelievable, and even discovered a little hole in the plot demonstrating that she can’t be as out of touch with pop culture as Honeyman claims she is (which I can’t reveal to you because it’s also a spoiler). I think my issue is that as far as I know, the author is not neurodivergent, whereas Eleanor is. I think this does a real disservice to readers, and would much prefer to read something like this by a neurodivergent author.

7. The Story of the Lost Child / Elena Ferrante

I finally finished the Neapolitan Quartet series! The fourth and final book finds Elena and Lila in their thirties and follows them until they’re in their sixties as they navigate professional successes and failures, new aspects of motherhood, relationship woes, and a fraying friendship. The dynamics of the friendship at the core of this series speak to me so deeply and captures so much about the passion, tension, tenderness, and competition that lurk within a longtime platonic relationship.

8. The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle / Stuart Turton

Dare I describe this as Downton Abbey meets Black Mirror? Aidan Bishop wakes up on the same date and in the same setting every day (Blackheath Manor on Evelyn Hardcastle’s birthday) but as a different guest or employee each time. Each night, Evelyn Hardcastle is murdered. Aidan quickly learns that his task is to find the murderer, using the different skillsets and vantage points he inherits with each subsequent body. The tension! The twists! The gorgeous setting! I loved this winding, wild novel.

9. You Were Born for This: Astrology for Radical Self-Acceptance / Chani Nicholas

If you are an astrology lover and don’t know who Chani Nicholas is, you’ve been living under a rock! Follow this woman! Her practice and guidance is so inclusive - feminist, anti-racist, anti-transphobic, body positive, and all about how to discover and lean into your gifts and talents while keeping in mind the greater good and working toward a more progressive society.

10. An Ocean of Minutes / Thea Lim

I started reading this dystopian novel about a pandemic right at the start of the pandemic! Maybe not a wise decision, but it didn’t matter, because this book is a beautiful, moving read. In the near future, young couple Polly and Frank find themselves stranded in Galveston, Texas, when a deadly virus begins sweeping across the globe. Frank gets sick, and the only way that Polly can pay for his expensive life-saving treatment is if she signs up as a bonded laborer and travels to the future (yes, time-travel exists!) The couple agree to meet up in 12 years (which will really be just a few short days for Polly). However, Polly is send an extra five years into the future, and Frank is nowhere to be found. The worry I felt! Polly’s loneliness and confusion in the future! Will they find each other again? Oh boy, this was an emotional ride!

11. Where the Crawdads Sing / Delia Owens

The second of my two contrarian reviews this year, I also really disliked this book, which everyone else and their mother seemed to adore? It was bad! The plot felt really contrived, the characters were two-dimensional, and I felt icky about the author’s two Black characters and how the protagonist, Kya, interacted with them. I don’t think Delia is informed enough about the realities of the Black experience, then and now, to responsibly write Black characters. Also, the ‘twist ending’ was a snooze fest. The one redeeming factor was the author’s palpable love of and knowledge about nature. I really did enjoy reading about the coastal habitat and sea life that the Kya loved so much. Oh, what’s this novel about, you ask? It’s a combo coming-of-age / murder mystery set in the 1950s and 60s.

12. The Skin We’re In: A Year of Black Resistance and Power / Desmond Cole

Cole is a Canadian journalist and activist shining a much needed light on racism in this country. In this book, he highlights one incidence of systemic racism in action per month during the year of 2017, focussing on police brutality, harm caused by school boards and educators, the Canada 150 celebrations, and unjust immigration policies. This book packs a punch and Cole’s writing style is really accessible. It’s a great entry point into learning about the realities of racism in Canada.

13. Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds / Adrienne Maree Brown

I absolutely loved this book, though I find it hard to pin down. At its core, it encourages us to think more deeply and holistically about nature, social justice, and community. Brown is heavily influenced by Black sci-fi / dystopian master Octavia Butler, specifically Butler’s ideas around “shaping change” while living through change. It’s full of gems of wisdom, like this quote, which is one of my favourites: “Imagination is one of the spoils of colonization, which in many ways is claiming who gets to imagine the future for a given geography.” As Brown also writes about, and which we can really see in this moment, we are currently living through the tail-end of a dying society, imagined by a small few. What could we create together if everyone’s imaginings carried equal weight?

14. From the Ashes: My Story of Being Métis, Homeless, and Finding My Way / Jesse Thistle

Thistle’s emotional and turbulent memoir begins with a loving memory of his time as a little boy at his maternal grandparents’ home. Not long after, his parents moved the family away from their Métis community and Jesse and his two brothers soon end up in the foster care system. This experience, though relatively brief, absolutely traumatized all three of them. Later, they end up living with their paternal grandparents, who love them deeply but are extremely strict, which doesn’t work for Thistle. He hits various rock bottoms, battling with addiction, trauma and homelessness at the intersection of racism. And somehow, he manages to break free of these harmful cycles, go back to school, and become an academic and best-selling author.

15. Policing Black Lives: State Violence in Canada from Slavery to the Present / Robyn Maynard

I would call this a must-read for Canadians. Maynard breaks down exactly how Canada surveils and punishes Blackness despite its claims of inclusivity and tolerance. She explores policing, yes, but also social work, education, immigration, and education and it’s impossible not to see the levers of systemic racism at work everywhere. Fair warning though, this is a more academic text and requires real concentration.

16. Jhumpa Lahiri / Unaccustomed Earth

This collection of short stories (the last being more of a novella) was gripping. I somehow fell in love with almost all of the characters. Lahiri writes people so skillfully. I felt their longing, hope, sorrow, grief, excitement. Most of the tales take place within the Indian community in Cambridge, Massachusetts, but some stories take us further afield. Lahiri picks a key relationship to focus on within each story - daughter/father, sister/brother, two roommates, childhood acquaintances - and lays them out gently under her microscope for us to see in all their intricate complexity.

17. Midnight Sun / Stephenie Meyer

Did you guys know I’m a Twihard? Having read all the Twilight novels (multiple times) way before I started this blog, this may be new information. But I’m a huge, pathetic fan and though I love Jacob, I will always be Team Edward. So OF COURSE I had to read this extremely long-awaited book, which is actually Twilight, but from Edward’s point of view rather than Bella’s. It was genuinely enjoyable, but not filled with nearly enough sexual tension for my liking. And of course, never ever read it unless you are also a Twilight fan.

18. The Sun and Her Flowers / Rupi Kaur

It’s Rupi being Rupi! I legitimately enjoy Rupi’s poetry, but I don’t love it. Some of the pieces really resonate, and others do nothing for me. But I do think she’s an important voice for young women, and specifically young women of colour. So much of her writing is about reclaiming your power, honouring the older generation of women who sacrificed so much and received nothing in return, and learning to love yourself in a society that is constantly trying to hurt you. Her poetry is always an uplifting read.

19. Conscious Creativity: Look, Connect, Create / Philippa Stanton

I’ve been following Philippa on Instagram for years as I adore her flat-lays and domestic foraging arrangements (if you follow me on IG, you may have seen my colour-themed #DomesticForaging homages to her work!) So when she published a book outlining her own creative process (and containing tons of her gorgeous photography), I had to read it. Stanton has included lots of activities meant to light your creative spark and inspire new ways of looking at things. She also writes about her experiences as a synesthete (someone who may “see” music as colours or who may “hear” shapes), which was fascinating. This is a book I’ll certainly go back to when I’m feeling uninspired. Want to follow her on IG? Her handle is @5tfinf.

20. Turkey Trot Murder / Leslie Meier

Guys, this review is the start of something BIG. Brad knows that I love to read books that are “in season” (I don’t want to read a book set in the summer during the winter, etc.). So he bought me this very niche Thanksgiving mystery novel to read in October. It’s alllll fluff, and very much in the “so bad it’s good” category. It also turns out that Leslie Meier may be one of the most prolific authors of all time, and so Brad signed me up to her “book of the month” fan club for my birthday this year, meaning I get a new, seasonally appropriate Meier classic each month. (You should also know that the “book of the month” fan club is entirely made up, and the letters from Leslie are actually written by Brad, and yes, he has designed a logo for the letterhead.)

21. Haunted House Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

Wait, what? THREE authors? Yes, some of the Leslie Meier classics are actually novellas, so they are combined with novellas by two other authors into these seasonal collections. Also, Lee Hollis isn’t even real. Lee Hollis is in fact TWO PEOPLE, a brother/sister writing duo! So there are four authors involved in this spooky little collection. They all take place in small-town Maine, so yes, the settings are adorable and the plots are terrible.

22. Autumn / Karl Ove Knausgaard

I think I would describe this memoir (?) as a collection of magical noticings. While his wife is pregnant with their fourth baby, Knausgaard starts writing letters to the unborn child, telling them about, well, everything and anything. That project turned into this book, in which the writer observes everyday things like hands, toilets, fog, petrol, and snakes, and finds the beauty and wonder in all of them. Reading this book left me feeling very inspired and wanting to try and develop this skill in myself as I write.

23. The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century / Kirk Wallace Johnson

Back in 2009, Edwin Rist stole HUNDREDS of dead birds from the British Museum of Natural History. That fact alone is mind-boggling (how?), but it gets wilder. He didn’t steal them for nerdy science reasons, he stole them to sell to the Victorian fly-tying community. Yes, flies as in the things you attach to fish hooks. And no, not flies that will actually be used, but flies that are constructed as a hobby and art form. Wallace Johnson does a great job of conveying Rist’s obsessive passion for fly-tying and the desperation many fly-tiers feel as they try to track down increasingly rare and protected feathers from exotic (or extinct) birds. The author also has a journalist’s nose for sniffing out lies and half-truths and even tracks down Rist himself for a sit-down interview. I was riveted throughout the whole book, which lives at the intersection of history, science, mystery, and psychological deep-dive.

24. Yule Log Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

The seasonal fluff dream team is back! And yes, a yule log features prominently in each novella. Once as a murder weapon, and once as a suspected murder weapon! These books also feature real recipes, some of which actually look pretty tasty!

25. Empire of Wild / Cherie Dimaline

This was a chilling page-turner and the second novel of Dimaline’s that I’ve read and devoured. She’s quickly become one of my favourite authors. In this story, Joan, a Métis woman living in the Georgian Bay area, is at the tail-end of the worst year of her life. Almost a year ago, her husband Victor disappeared into thin air after a rare argument between the couple, and Joan’s been searching for him ever since. One day, she wanders past a Christian revival tent in a Walmart parking lot, and the minister is the spitting image of Victor. She manages to have a brief conversation with him and it appears he has no memory of her or his prior life. Yet, in her gut, she KNOWS it’s him and resolves to return him to himself (and to her). This slow-burning horror novel weaves in the Métis myth of the Rogarou, a werewolf-ish creature who walks lonely roads looking for victims, to great effect.

26. Eggnog Murder / Leslie Meier and Lee Hollis and Barbara Ross

Another seasonal romp in which this time, the eggnog is the murder weapon in TWO of the stories! TWO PEOPLE IN TWO SEPARATE STORIES DIE FROM DRINKING NUT MILK EGGNOG AND NOT KNOWING IT WAS NUT MILK AND SUFFERING FROM A NUT ALLERGY. Anyways, I actually made one of the included recipes this time - eggnog muffins - and they were truly delicious!

27. Watch Over Me / Nina LaCour

This is a beautiful and haunting (both literally and figuratively) YA novel about the way trauma from our past follows us around, haunting our present. Mila, who’s just aged out of the foster care system, lands what seems to be a perfect job helping to teach younger children at a farm in Northern California. The farm is owned by an older couple who’ve become somewhat famous for taking in dozens of kids from the foster system over the years. Upon arrival, Mila falls in love, but soon starts to notice strange things about the way things are done on the farm, while also suffering from PTSD related to her own childhood traumas. Is there something sinister going on, or could this beautiful, isolated place become the home Mila’s always longed for?

28. Phases / h.duxbury

I started writing poetry again this summer, and quickly found lots of other poets sharing their work on Instagram. @hduxburypoetry (a fellow Ontarian, too!) quickly became one of my favourite accounts to follow, so when i learned that she self-published a poetry collection, I had to grab a copy. Her work is heavily inspired by nature and the changing seasons, which I’m a sucker for, so I really enjoyed it. Her poems also delve into grief, loneliness, love, and growth.

Well, there you have it! As for my 2020 faves, my top three reads were:

Empire of Wild

Unaccustomed Earth

Emergent Strategy

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 18: Erod elb mud subla ross ef orp yler ecnis

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 18 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Summary: As Harry Potter slays the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, blood and venom get in his eyes, mostly blinding him. While Harry learns to adapt, he makes some new friends. But this is more than a story of adaptation and friendship as there are threats... and Harry isn't the only one with a past that haunts him.

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

Harry sat at the table by his bed. Distantly he could hear the T.V. blaring in the living room. He was really tempted to get the anagnóstis out and listen to Hermione’s letter again and read the other letters and leaflets. 

The Dursleys are engrossed in the T.V.; they aren’t going to hear me. 

Still, he hesitated. He was risking losing his one chance to read the letters… or anything for that matter.

His heart pounding, he went to the door and locked it and placed his pillow across the bottom of the door hoping that it would muffle any sounds that might filter through the cat door and the space at the bottom of the door. He closed the window. Hedwig was out hunting (with strict orders to stay away from snakes). He had cleaned out her water and changed the paper in her cage once she flew outside with the setting sun.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, glad for the break from the bright light. It was kind of nice just to sit in the dark.

Listening carefully, he decided that he should be able to read at least one thing. He decided to save the leaflets for tomorrow when he’d have some freedom to try out things with the staff.

I hope that the leaflets have spells for using the staff… I hope that I can get out of here soon! He closed his eyes with these wishes, holding his breath as he made them.

Harry knelt down and retrieved the anagnóstis and the letter Hedwig had brought him when she first arrived at the Dursleys from under the floorboards.

He unrolled the scroll and flattened it out. He paused again before setting the anagnóstis against the upper left-hand corner.

“Erod elb mud subla ross ef orp yler ecnis.” Harry took the anagnóstis off the page, completely perplexed. He tried it again. “Erod elb mud subla ross ef orp yler ecnis.”

Who’d be writing me in another language? Is this from the goblins at Gringotts? Harry wondered.

Oh, wait. I’m an idiot! 

He turned it around and tried again. The voice that spoke this time was clearly Dumbledore’s gentle and aged tenor.

“Dear Harry, I’m just spoken with Madam Pomfrey and she has shared with me the sad news of the permanent loss of your vision. I am more sorry than I can express. She and I feel that it is in your best interest for you to spend the remaining weeks of the term resting at home. I’ve sent a letter to your Aunt and Uncle to alert them of your arrival and I hope that they are doing all within their power to make you comfortable and give you the space you need to heal and adjust.” 

Harry lifted the anagnóstis from the parchment here. He ached. Something wanted to burst out from him; he wasn’t sure if it was harsh laughter or quiet sobbing. The strangled sound that leaked out was a little of both.

He calmed his breath and then continued to read the letter.

“The classes that you’re enrolled in over the summer will help you adapt to your blindness. I know that you’ll face this new challenge with all the bravery and determination that befits a Gryffindor.

Sincerely, Professor Albus Dumbledore”

There was something about this letter that made Harry really, really worried. It was missing something. He stood up and started pacing. His heart was racing.

Why did he feel suddenly adrift?

Gryffindor? Gryffindor? Harry walked back and forth as the name rang in his ears.

It troubled him. Despite Dumbledore’s assurances, he still wondered if he was truly a Gryffindor. The mention in the letter of his Gryffindor traits felt like a dig. Harry realized that he loved speaking to Nio hus cherio kisa even when he felt a little twinge of shame. 

Shame for what? For using this gift from Salazar Slytherin that Voldemort had accidentally passed on to me when he tried to kill me?

“You have every right to use that gift, Harry!” he told himself firmly, sounding a bit like Ron in his bluster. “It doesn’t make you a Slytherin.” He stopped pacing and sat down with the letter and read it again.

It wasn’t the Gryffindor part that made him feel so alone. It was something else.

He realized that it was what was not in the letter. Missing was assurance that there would be a place for him at Hogwarts at the end of the summer.

His heart plunged into his stomach. His chest tightened. The thought of not returning to Hogwarts was more frightening than facing Tom Riddle’s murderous intent.

He read the letter for a third time while drawing in shaky breaths letting Dumbledore’s gentle voice wash over him.

As he mulled over this insight, his hand loosely held the anagnóstis so that it hovered over the last words in the letter.

“Albus: a boy’s name of Latin origin, meaning ‘white, bright’.” 

The voice that offered this helpful definition was not Dumbledore’s, but rather the crisp, knowledgeable voice of a young woman. The image of a young professional woman in sharp new robes and smart glasses popped into his head. Harry also remembered the feel of the round heads of the Albus Agapanthus in his hands as he worked in the garden earlier. Somehow the knowledge that Professor Dumbledore’s name was the same bright, white light that was the only thing he could see anymore made him feel comforted and he was able to quell his fears. 

They are just my fears. There’s nothing here that confirms them.

He took out the ruler, the pad of paper, and the pencil and using the ruler as a guide for writing straight lines, he wrote a longer letter to Hermione and Ron using a couple of pages from the pad of paper. Harry spent the next half hour trying to put words to his worries without being too worrisome, his fears without being too fearful, and his hopes without being overly hopeful. He knew there wasn’t much they could do for him, but it felt good to write to them knowing that they would understand.

He knew they’d be heading home via the Hogwarts express on Saturday—so he wanted to send the letter to them while they could get it together, instead of having to write two letters once they were at their respective homes. He used the anagnóstis to read his letter back to him. It was strange to listen to his own disembodied voice, but he was assured that the letter was legible and he was able to make a few spelling corrections with the eraser.

He decided to not push his luck any further and put everything back under the floorboard. He opened his window and called for Hedwig with a low whistle. She hooted softly in response and soon alighted on the window sill. He fastened the scroll (larger than the first one he sent to Hermione and Ron) with the leather strap and asked her to deliver the letter. He sat at the window for a while after her burst of flapping wings faded into the night. He couldn’t see the moon, it must have been hidden behind clouds. He thought about tomorrow and the chance to learn how to use the staff and maybe gain more independence. It was a bubble of hope that kept him buoyed.

As he drifted asleep, he was able to loosen the grip of his fear of not returning to Hogwarts and let it drift out into the cool night air.

[markwatkinsconsumerguide]

Consumer Guide / No.87 / Top Of The Pops LPs archivist & blogger Terry Wilson with Mark Watkins.

MW : Tell me about your background...

TW : I grew up in Aylesbury, and from as early as I can remember, I loved music - and it was these very Top of the Pops LPs which were the earliest I had, bought for me as presents when I was four or five, and spun on an old mono Dansette. Little did I know, the LPs were being pressed in a small plant five minutes from where I lived (I found that out about forty years later!).

I guess Top of the Pops started me on the road to what would become quite a serious record collecting habit, and a love of music generally. I went on to play in a number of unsuccessful bands, before taking up music writing (plug: Tamla Motown - The Stories Behind The UK Singles). I'm now 50, and live in Sussex with my wife and child, and although I completed my Top of the Pops vinyl collection years ago, I still splash out on the odd rarity or overseas pressing when I see it. The overseas ones especially fascinate me, although I'm no longer able fill my home with records, like I did in my bachelor days.

MW : When & why did you set up your Top of the Pops website?

TW : The project started around 1999, and I knew nothing about web design at that point. I'd started collecting the series (as an adult, that is - my childhood LPs were long gone), but this was when the internet was still in its infancy - nothing like we have today. For example, there was no such thing as a Top of the Pops LP discography, so I had no idea how many I needed, what the catalogue numbers were, or what the LP sleeves looked like. 

The website project actually began as an Excel spreadsheet, where I started listing the volume numbers, catalogue numbers and so on. A few of the albums had gotten into the LP charts back in the 1970s, so the relevant chart books were consulted and provided a few more snippets - that's how hard it was to find anything out before the internet, young people. That listing gradually expanded to the point where I thought I'd try my hand at making a website, which was a steep learning curve for me. I guess it went online around 2005.

MW : How have you developed the site since its beginnings?

TW : The first site I made was quite different to the current one. The technology was much more clunky, and the pages were all out of line. It wasn't great, but at least gave me a grounding in web design, so I knew what I needed to do. I made the decision around 2008 to re-invent it using a different host, whose layouts I much preferred, and that's where it still lives today. From my perspective, the website was more than just a space to write up and organise the discography; it was also a forum for research. I've lost count of the number of kind people who've contacted me through the site, and given me information, photos and even records over the years.

A Russian collector, for example, used to send me Top of the Pops records from the old Soviet Union, pressed on flexi-disc and coloured vinyl - I'd never even have known about them otherwise. Plus, every new discovery meant a new page for the site, and whole new sections came into being - it has expanded to the point where it's now quite vast. It's because of the size of the site that I started a blog (http://copycatcovers.blogspot.com) where I could flag up new discoveries which might otherwise not get noticed - not just Top of the Pops, but across the whole genre of what I call copycat cover versions.

MW : How do you store and maintain all your vinyl?

TW : I'd love to say I have a dedicated room with security cameras and temperature control - but in reality I store my collection in a humble way on ordinary shelves.

I used to have them in a series of proper LP cases, but they became unwieldy, so I took them out again. Just having them stacked vertically away from undue heat or humidity is all the care they need. The more precious ones are in heavy-duty protective covers, but I don't go to great lengths to look after them, or treat them like precious jewels. 

They rarely encounter a record deck, though, as I got together with a few fellow collectors some years back, and between us we digitised the whole set - so the vinyl can stay safely inside the sleeves while I listen to MP3s. The rarer tape editions in my collection are less hardy than the vinyl, so they are housed in protective cases and kept in a safe place.

MW : What are your views on these kinds of LPs - in the sense that they were once seen as cheap and cheesy - until The Mike Flowers Pops lounge music revival in 1995…

TW : There's a part of me that sees them exactly as you describe - cheap and cheesy - but there's another part of me, which I guess is the dominant voice in my head, which sees them as creative fun. It's important to remember these are not compilation albums. The making of them required a band to go into a studio, red light running against the clock, and capture track after track after track - and in this way, the original 'Top of the Poppers' group recorded around 70 full LPs in ten years - by any measure, that's dedicated musicianship, arranging and singing. I can't think of any band in history with such a prolific work rate. I once wrote a tongue-in-cheek article in which I argued these were the most important albums ever made, and by the end of it, I'd almost convinced myself! Two of them even made Number 1 in the UK album charts. That's two more than Frank Zappa, The Velvet Underground, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, etc…

MW : Do you search charity shops and similar for these albums? Your best finds? Any missing?

TW : My UK collection is essentially complete, and has been for a few years - so I no longer hunt them down. For better or worse, I'm past the point where I still find anything I need in charity shops. Overseas releases are a different matter. I buy them when I can, but I probably have more missing than I will ever know. (To my knowledge, I am the only person who's ever researched them.) 

When I was buying the UK albums, charity shops and car boot sales were my main source, and I frequented them religiously - there was Ebay, of course, but it costs a lot more to have an LP posted to you than to chance upon it for 25p in a charity shop - so I held out and gradually finished the set. My best find was probably Volume 90 - I'd never seen it, and I was killing time in a town in West Sussex when I had a rummage in a junk shop and found it for pennies. Back then, Ebay was around, but the number of sellers was a fraction of what it is today. On the very rare occasions something like Volume 90 or Volume 91 turned up, they would command prices in the £100 bracket - and that's no exaggeration. (I thereby learned I was not the only one collecting them!) 

But most of my truly astonishing finds have been via the internet. I'll never forget discovering one of the LPs had been issued in Argentina, and I bought it immediately. When it arrived, I slipped it out the sleeve to find it was pressed on starburst multi-coloured vinyl. Amazing! And still it goes on - just last year I chanced upon a UK release, a double album of disco tracks by The Poppers, which I'd never even heard of! You never know what will show up next.

MW : Tell me about some of the famous (now) but not famous (then) musicians who started their careers off doing Top of the Pops cover versions...

TW : It would be great to say a succession of stellar names cut their recording teeth on these Top of the Pops albums, but in truth, there aren't that many examples. Those who know about the cover version sub-industry (and Top of the Pops was only one LP series among many) immediately think of Elton John. He did record a good number of anonymous cover versions in the late-1960s for labels like Avenue, Marble Arch and Music For Pleasure, but only one for Top of the Pops - ‘Snake In The Grass’, issued on Volume 5 (which is, consequently, worth a few pounds). 

It's frustrating that the session men and women are largely unknown to this day, but a couple more famous names can be confirmed. Tina Charles, for example, who had success with her hit, ‘I Love To Love’, can be heard singing ‘Stand By Your Man’ on Volume 45, while well-known singer Laura Lee performs ‘The Man Who Sold The World’ on Volume 36. We might also mention Elvis Costello's dad, Ross McManus, who sang on more than one LP - including the same Volume 5 which Elton was on. Rumours that David Bowie appears on some are probably not true, but who really knows?

MW : What are your favorite album covers...why?

TW : It may seem paradoxical, but I've never really been a fan of the album covers. There are many collectors of the 'cheesecake' sleeve genre, but I'm not one of them. Mostly, I find them amusing, with the ridiculous poses and whacky clothing - they are sometimes described accusingly as soft porn, but I think that's taking them too seriously. Maybe they were considered more shocking back in the day, but there's one in particular, Volume 8 - in which the model sports a fur bikini! Can you think of a more absurd garment?

I like the quasi-psychedelic cover of Volume 16 but my favourite is probably the ultra-hideous Volume 22 - one of the ones I had when I was a kid. That's famous actress, Nicola Austin, in what can only be described as a roll-neck leotard, capped off with matching sailing hat! We should give a shout-out to Bill Graham, a designer for Pickwick Records, who came up with the iconic sleeve design in 1968. Even into the mid-1980s, when models like Sam Fox and Linda Lusardi were by then appearing on the covers, the design was essentially unchanged. He came up with a classic.

MW : What are your long term plans for the site / collection?

TW : The site continues to grow, every time another record comes to my attention. One area I never did get into was reviews of the LPs. I would have, but a fellow enthusiast, called Tim Joseph, has been preparing a book about them for years, and I didn't want to tread on his toes, so to speak. It's something I might do one day though. As for my collection, I don't know what will become of it! I have some bona-fide rarities in my possession - autographed sleeves, advance promo copies, a genuine gold disc award, and numerous overseas pressings, one of which accidentally includes a real hit recording by Elton - don't ask me how that happened, but so far as I am aware, the album is unknown to his fans and collectors. If they found out about it, they might make me some handsome offers! But who, besides, me, would really want the rest of it?

I doubt I will ever sell my collection, so I guess I'll keep it until I shuffle off this mortal coil, then what will become of it, I don't know. I could offer it to a museum, but I fear they would die laughing! In a sense, I feel I've done my bit in preserving the LP series by photographing, cataloguing and documenting it all - at one point I actually lent some records back to Pickwick so they could make digital versions of some they couldn't locate - and so they were my copies, loaded up globally to iTunes. It's a honour for me, and that's reward enough.

MW : Away from the website, what are your other interests?

TW : I've always had many interests to pursue - I have what's sometimes called the collector's gene. 

So when I'm not mulling the small print of old record sleeves, I might be cataloguing every Aston Villa football card ever printed, or compiling a collection of every King George VI postage stamp. 

I tend to go for ambitious projects - all or nothing - so when I wrote my Tamla Motown book, for example, I researched and wrote up every single 45 they ever released - a mammoth task which had to be squeezed between building websites, playing football, playing in a band - and also, a full-time job (Special mention here to my patient wife!). I've always had in interest in writing. I used to work as a journalist and edited a few magazines. 

These days, much of my spare time is consumed with mixing and remixing music on pc. It's great fun, and the technology is so freely available, anyone can do it.

MW : What's to see and do in the area you live in?

TW : I grew up in the countryside, and moved down to Brighton in my 20s. It's a place I still love - so much going on all the time with bands, nightlife, festivals and so on - but one way or another, I've ended up back in a village.

Life here is quiet, and the village is a bit other-worldly - which is fine - but very different from the pace of city life. Cars will actually pull up to a stop in the middle of the road, if someone's waiting to cross! 

The village has its own events - an annual village day, a dedicated fireworks society and various arts’ groups, which I take a passing interest in. Fortunately, there's also a choice of good pubs.

MW : How do you intend to spend the summer holidays?

TW : I have no plans yet for the coming summer - which is leaving it late, to say the least. I quite like the idea of getting a last-minute deal and flying off to who-knows-where, but I'm not sure what we'll do. I get bored easily and like to have things to do and see, whereas my wife likes to lay in the hot sun and do nothing. So, we find things which work for both of us. Last year we headed down to Cornwall to a seaside resort and went out on a few adventures, so it worked for both of us. This year, who knows?

http://topofthepopslps.weebly.com/

(c) Mark Watkins / May 2019