#mickey and worm looking at each other..

[sixmonths0sleep]

my personal list of Norpittverse duos that I can’t get out my head but they’re all so random and / or have no fan base:

[qierxing]

Farewell to Thee?

A/N: (checks last post time stamp) Oopsie. (drops this in front of yall like a bag of groceries and fades into the distance)

Yan! Twst Isekai AU

CW/TW: the Mouse is Real™, graphic descriptions of bodily fluids/injuries, assault and kidnapping Pt. 3 Oh Woe is Me... | Pt. 4

◇ Continue

[Loading…]

“..llo?"

"Hello?" 

"Hellooo?”

Out of the wispy fog comes a familiar voice. It echoes on and on, fading into a whisper. The tenure worms into your brain as you struggle back into consciousness. And as your eyes open and focus, your brain finally recognizes who is calling out.

“...Mickey?” You respond quietly in disbelief. “Mickey!”

“[First]!” The reunion, however unexpected, is still relieving. You never thought you would be so happy to see the cartoony mouse again. But…

“It���s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, huh?” He chirps, walking up to your side. “I’ve been trying all sorts of things to get here, even trying to change my pajamas before sleeping too, heh…”

“So…this is a dream?” You ask hesitantly. Mickey smiles up at you, unaware of your inner turmoil. 

“Must be! This is quite unexpected, I usually only see your head and shoulders, not your whole body.” 

That makes sense, in a way. Only white nothingness surrounds you. Although you two are striding forward in a sense of strolling, you can’t make heads or tails on whether you’re actually walking somewhere.

“Normally I’d ask to take your picture but I don’t have my special camera.” You wryly smile in response. Did you succeed with your plan? Interactions with Mickey was usually out of the player’s hands…did you force a connection when you caused a game over?

“That’s a right shame. I was so looking forward to it since you mentioned it last visit.” Mickey sighs with a playful pout. It then changes to something more somber as he gazes up at you.

“[First], I’m glad to have met you again, but be careful.” You stop in your tracks at the warning.

“I sensed some dark aura around you when we first met. It’s gotten even stronger this time.” Mickey explains, worried eyes examining you. “Please be careful.”

“Wh-what do you mean…?” Your mouth runs dry. Something prickles in the back of your head, and to your panic, the vision of Mickey starts fading away, images blurring. 

“M…time….up….watch…” his last words hover in the air as you frantically reach out to him.

“M-Mickey?!” You fumble around, trying to reach out to him, but come up with air. 

“Damn it!” You scream, impatient rage blinding your sight. 

Just when you’re so close to getting an answer out of this damn game! You just wanted to go home! Was that such a sin?

The prickling in your head grows stronger and you grow lightheaded, collapsing in on yourself. You look up to see a bright glowing menu.

[True Ending has not been unlocked]

>⬛⬛⬛⬛ Key has not been obtained. 

>Continue?

–

[Loading…]

Your cheeks feel sticky.

It feels so gross. The smell of iron and rust floods your nose and makes your eyes fly open. Your fingernails scrape the substance as you push yourself off the cold floor. When you hold it up to your bleary eyes, you can see blood and dirt flaking under your nails. Your entire front is also soaked in blood and saliva. The disgusting sight makes you cringe. 

The ground underneath your body shakes. You regard the pool of blood, tears, and snot underneath you with a gaze not fully aware. You’re… in Twisted Wonderland?

Screaming? There’s people yelling somewhere, and it’s making your head hurt. You groan, raising your dirtied hand to steady your forehead.

What happened…?

"Easy, Trickster." A warm voice envelopes your ear. Suddenly, the scent of mint and petrichor overtakes your senses. Verdant green eyes peer down at you with relief.

“R…Rook?” The voice that comes out of you doesn’t feel like you. Someone else speaking in your body, like a ventriloquist. “H-How…?”

“[First]!” Grim flings himself into your face, adding to the pool of snot and mucus. It’s okay though. You hug him tightly, curling in on yourself, trying to absorb the warmth Grim gives. 

The others come and swarm you; trying to check in on you, but you don’t respond to their numerous worried inquiries, drained of all your energy. Something catches your ear though.

“Oh, we were so worried! When Neige told us you got accidentally poisoned, we couldn’t take you to the infirmary right away–thank Seven Rook was there!” Kalim clasps your hands tenderly, not minding the gross slew of fluids getting on his hands. 

Poisoned? How was I poisoned…?

A knife sharp pain slices through your brain when you try to recall what happened. You were with Neige…and then? Everything after that was all coming out as static noise.

“Prefect.”

You know who it is without looking. What a sight. How could Vil Schoenheit look this disheveled? Blonde greasy hair that is out of place, skin hollowed and pale with scratches, and bloodshot lavender eyes. He looks worse than you on death’s door.

"Vil…?" You gaze at him with empty confusion, unsure of why your heart drops at the sight of him. "Did…did something happen?"

Vil's eyes narrow but then close in resignation. Epel takes over, eyes wide in earnest. "Vil had an overblot, so we had to wrangle him back to normal."

Overblot…right…that's what supposed to happen, right?

Why…was that supposed to happen?

"Forgive me, Trickster. If only I had reached there faster with Monsieur Al-Asim…" Rook hums, surprisingly sincere. "Roi du Poison's madness and obsession…even when he had overblotted…how wonderfully beautiful it all was. The ink swirling around him, his stature…"

You shiver as his gaze rakes into yours.

"But, mon amour, you must not do that again, oui?" He leans in, lips ghosting over your ear and your blood freezes. What does he…?

"What a fine mess this is. What are we going to do now?" Ace drawls, eyes scanning behind him. Your eyes follow where he's looking and wince at the now destroyed colosseum. Debris and rocks flung everywhere, banners ripped to shreds, and electronics fried beyond repair.

For some reason, you feel calm despite the scene before you. As if…

"Well, well, if this isn't a sight."

Malleus.

Nothing registers until his gaze falls on you, and you swear his eyes glow for a fraction of a second.

"What have we here?" The question echoes and everyone looks nervously around at each other. “I arrive early to find not a single person and a stage laid to waste.”

You can only muster a sheepish grin in response. That's right. Malleus could fix this all up in a flash, no problem.

“Hornton, thank goodness you’re here!” Dried blood cracks on the edges of your smiling lips. “We could really use some help-”

“HORNTON?” You wince at the cacophonous pitch of everyone yelling. Rook is tactful enough to shield your ears but it only did so much to keep your eardrums from ringing. While Grim realizes who Hornton is, everyone else is flustered, attempting to explain the weight of his identity to the two of you.

You don’t need it though. His magic is enough of a demonstration as he winds back time and repairs the stage in moments. With that, the NRC group’s spirit and morale is renewed and once again, they’re raring to prove themselves to RSA.

The only thing that didn’t change is you.

Malleus gingerly carries you in his arms while Grim worriedly looks up at you. While they were reluctant to continue without you, even they were not foolish enough to let you go without urgent medical treatment.

You managed to stay conscious long enough to hear Malleus talking with the school medics and Grim muttering about stones before the dull ache in your throat and stomach forced you into an uneasy slumber.

–

The vestiges of a strange dream about mice and keys linger in your mind as you blink away the sleep in your eyes. 

Evening has fallen, the only light coming from the dim lanterns the office has set up for patients. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can make out silhouettes of curtains and several items on the table near you. 

Snacks from Ace and Deuce, herbal medicine from Vil, and colorful flowers by Kalim (you’re sure Jamil was the reason why it was not mountains of flower bouquets). The gestures are enough to make you weakly smile before it drops into a frown.

You turn to scan the room, and find no signs of life.

Did Grim leave?

An uneasiness begins to settle in your chest and you try to quash it. Maybe he just went to use the bathroom. Or if the staff made him leave, maybe he returned to Ramshackle. Anxiety begins to creep through your mind as the seconds tick by on the clock above the doorway. 

 Screw it.

You slip off the duvet covers and although the feeling of cold tiles on your bare feet is almost enough to make you give up, you push through and leave the room in the direction of Ramshackle. 

Soon, the familiar sight of the Seven’s statues come into the horizon and cobblestones turn into granite tiles underneath your feet. Something makes you pause, however. Like a feeling of deja vu, you wonder why you feel like you’ve been in this situation before.

A growl shakes through the underbrush and you whirl to see the devil tips of a tail thrashing through leaves. Your heart jumps to your throat.

Grim!

The next thing you see is glowing blue eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth and dripping black saliva. You stumble back partially in disgust at the sight and partially from fear. What happened to your friend?! 

“Grrr…mine…you can’t…” His words are hardly decipherable, making you furrow your eyebrows in concern.

“Grim!” 

He’s already descended into a rabid, feral monster. Your calls only anger him, and his eyes thin into needle thin slits. He bares his teeth again and you steel yourself. 

Letting out a guttural roar, he pounces and you narrowly dodge and avoid getting shredded by jagged claws. 

You will not lose your friend here. You can’t. Not when–

A fleeting vision flashed in your mind: pitch black ink surrounding your feet, before finally flowing away and hardening into a condensed mass. Your head immediately is wracked in red hot spasms, causing you to keel over in pain. What is…

Unfortunately, this leaves you open to Grim’s next strike, and his attack throws both of you off balance. The impact sends you into the grass and it’s only when your back hits a tree trunk that you shriek out loud. Your fragile medical gown is torn through by his claws, leaving bloody gashes upon your midsection. 

The excruciating pain is enough for feverish tears to run down your cheeks and your vision to start blurring as Grim growls again, no doubt readying to finish what he started.

“G-Grim…” 

Your vision darkens, and your world goes silent.

–

A heart wrenching scream rouses you awake.

“[FIRST]!!”

The sound of whistling wind blows in your ears and instinctively you shiver. As your eyes blearily crack open, a gray figure comes into focus.

Grim is hunched over you, shaking your body with tears in his eyes. The both of you seem to be…flying? What?

“Subject F and Y secured. Waiting for other units’ reports.” A cold robotic voice drones above you. You force your head up and see a tall robot donning armor and wielding a formidable looking oar like weapon. As your eyes adjusted against the strong breeze, you realized you and Grim were trapped in a steel cage. 

In the distance, your ears faintly pick up explosions and deep rumbling. 

“[FIRST]?!”

Both you and Grim turn to see Ace and Deuce gaping up at you from the forest floor below. You open your mouth, but your voice doesn’t come out. 

“All targets have been secured. All units fall back and return.”

“No!” Grim yowls. “My henchman, they’re hurt! Someone, help–!!” 

But his screeching goes unheeded by your stoney captors. And although you swear you hear familiar voices calling back, the robots are undeterred and whisk you both away easily. 

The last thing you see is the shattered ruins of a barrier and a school left in burned pieces.

[flightofthejackdaw]

I just had a potentially beautiful potentially horrifying brain blast about KH4.

So Riku's trip to Quadratum has a lot of hallmarks of Cinderella this time, including being sent by Fairy Godmother and his Prince potentially not recognizing him. This is something you're probably already aware of.

The Kingdom Key and Kingdom Key D are based on the Keys to the Kingdom of Heaven from Catholicism. They also were created by Riku's heart and now belong to Mickey Mouse (Realm of Light) and Sora (Quadratum.) This is probably something else you probably already know.

The Master of Masters has the ability to summon someone else's keyblade into his own hands, as seen with Young Xehanort in Dark Road, implying that he might be able to steal keyblades. You probably already know this as well.

Do you know how the song at the end of Cinderella goes? The one that plays when Cinderella and Prince Charming dance together after finding each other and confessing their love? The song is "So This is Love" and it's very short, but it contains this sweet little line:

"The Key to All Heaven Is Mine"

I think that, at the end of KH4, either Riku or MoM will have either the Kingdom Key or the Kingdom Key D. Probably the Kingdom Key. Probably MoM, since he needs a Keyblade. And poor Sora will have to contend with his self-worth issues about not being important if he doesn't have his Keyblade to save people. We might get a Riku confession, or at least a Riku admitting to himself that he's in love... but the counterbalance might be Sora's self-worth.

What do you think? Am I maybe reaching a bit too much?

Wow, that is amazing! I’ve definitely thought about the Kingdom Key D but wasn’t sure if it was ever going to get brought up again. But you’ve just cracked open a major can of worms there, and it MAKES SENSE!

Also the thing with MoM being able to summon others Keyblades helps a pet theory I have that No Name was never his Keyblade but was always Luxu’s. That either MoM has a different Keyblade or doesn’t have one at all, which would be interesting

It does sound like reaching, but this is Kingdom Hearts we’re talking about and this kind of insane depth is to be expected and this “reaching” is exactly what Nomura wants us to do. As overanalysing and looking deeply into what he has written is such a big part of what makes Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts!

I’ll be keeping this idea of yours in mind when we get KH4. If you’re right you are so insanely smart, and we’re about to get our own hearts completely trampled over if this ends you being true

[crystallizsch]

in the current event, grim says something like wow it must be nice to be going on vacation. im just gonna be at ramshackle all day. and it got me thinking because!!! yuu and grim really are in it together. he says he doesn’t remember having a family in book 4, so they really are all the other has. a lot of people, when talking about yuu’s problems, forget about grim a lot, i think. of course he gets yuu into trouble and isn’t very helpful, but he’s literally like. a kitten. he fights for? yuu and i just. think they are neat !

YESSS ANON

NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT I’M ACTUALLY OBSESSED WITH HOW THE STITCH EVENT SHOW THE “OHANA” FAMILY THEMES ESPECIALLY WITH YUU AND GRIM (and how it just made it more blatant in the ending) (thanks lilia for spelling it out hfjdjjd)

(source)

literally the recent event has grim all jealous of stitch and even overprotective of yuu (that one scene of grim jumping into water to try and save you??? that got me so much)

anyways you’ve opened a whole can of worms in my brain ougheghdhegr

i dont talk about yuu and grim often but they are actually one of my favorite dynamics in the game

imagine being transported into an unfamiliar world and the only thing that is remotely in the same situation as you is some kind of talking magical cat that doesn’t even respect you in the slightest, looking down on you.

also what are even the conventions in this place? are you even going to be okay? sure you’re being kept in this… ramshackle building but what’s guaranteeing your safety? “accidents” can happen.

then this talking cat is back and suddenly you both are begrudgingly a package deal. you’re essentially just using each other. yuu needs grim bc they’re magicless and grim needs this human to attend this school.

but (since they really have no choice anyway) they spend all this time together that they eventually become THE package deal.

like at that point who is grim without yuu and who is yuu without grim?

it’s also interesting bc grim seems to have these childish tendencies on top of acting like… a cat.

so of course he becomes so attached and dependent to them. who else has given this feline direbeast a home after all? why it’s yuu, of course. especially when he doesn’t remember anything else.

and to compensate, grim is the one to protect yuu. in his mind he’s the leader, he’s the protector. it’s a failure on his part as the great mage grim if he lets anything bad happen to his hench human.

and for yuu’s part, this feline beast is the one who’s always there with them funnily enough (there’s also ace and deuce but they’re not the focus here right now)

so similarly yuu cares about grim as much (at least that’s how i choose to interpret it bc you could argue yuu only “cares” bc if anything happens to grim, they’re kinda fucked)

grim is definitely more than this talking sidekick companion and i will go to my grave believing that he’s the biggest part of yuu’s character and vice versa.

i also believe that canon yuu has a more integral part in the story beyond being an isekai protagonist and the one seeing disney movie visions + mickey. im just waiting on when we find out the real reasons yuu and grim are together.

hdhhfdhdhgd anyways you’re right i think yuu and grim are just neat. i am putting them in a jar and shaking them affectionately.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

hey bud 💚 how about 18 "it's so hot when you talk like that" if you're feeling it?

"It's so hot when you talk like that." additional tags: hypothetical pregnancy discussion, hypothetical breeding kink, ian's been reading a lot of A/B/O on the DL

"Can't believe that motherfucker Allen."

Ian closes their apartment door behind them, sealing them away from yet another neighbor interaction. "Makin' Jill carry all those bags when she's - what, thirty weeks pregnant?" He's nosy - don't worry about it.

"Thirty one," Mickey corrects, because he's even nosier. "What a piece of shit."

"Well...least we were there," says Ian, finally able to worm the handle of their plastic CVS bag back down to his hand now that it's not occupied with another family's groceries. "Think they'll make us godparents?"

At the counter, Mickey grimaces. "Ugh. Don't even fuckin' joke about that."

It gets a laugh from Ian - the striking contrast between Jill's produce bags and their CVS bag of lube, condoms, and beef jerky not lost on him in the slightest.

"Better not pull any of that shit on me."

Ian looks up from their spoils. Tries to imagine a world where he'd pull an Allen on his husband. "Never," he says. "I'm a gentleman after all."

"Uh huh..." He can hear Mickey's grin as it trails off into the refrigerator, his head and shoulders blocked by the open door. "Course, for that you'd haveta put a baby in me first."

And oh, the way Ian's sensors go off in his brain... How a little pop of interest licks up his belly... Well that was a thing to fucking say! "Ha ha..." play it cool... "Yeah..."

It's just a stupid, passing comment. They make it to each other sometimes, comfortable in the silliness of it. But that doesn't mean Ian's brain hasn't taken it and molded it into perfect, sexy little shapes for himself.

"You expect me to carry around your pups like that, I expect your ass to cater to me day 'n night..."

Okay...

Ian takes a slow breath in, his nostrils flaring.

He sets the lube down.

Goes with his gut and approaches Mickey from behind, just as he's closing the refrigerator door. Because if he's gonna keep talking about this shit, then Ian's got no choice but to follow his animal instincts, right?

"Oh," he feels Mickey grin as he swoops in to wrap his arms around him, pulling him close against his chest. "That right, big guy?"

And fuck, Ian's just gonna go for it. Just gonna indulge a little, the fantasy of all those stories he's been sneaking in at night playing out right in front of him on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. "It's so hot when you talk like that..."

He murmurs it into Mickey's ear. Finds comfort in being able to hide his face from him, because he's definitely blushing a deep red when Mickey feeds into it - "What...talkin' 'bout you knockin' me up...?" - because of course he does.

And all Ian can do is hum in affirmation, his hold around his husband tightening as he drags his lips down the side of his warm neck, looking for his pulse point. "Mhm..."

Because that's hot...right? Ian laying Mickey out and pumping a nice big load into him? Getting him pregnant? Taking care of him while Mickey carries his child? Yeah, he knows it's not realistic and yeah, he knows it's a little fucked up, but come on... All those stories are kinda onto something.

In the kitchen's golden afternoon light, Mickey presses his ass back into his lap, teasing at the very obvious bulge in Ian's jeans. "Ya know, stud...we could make a baby right now..."

It's got heat and pleasure spreading through Ian's lap - up through his chest. Holy fuck. "Yeah...?" He fucking loves this man. "Want me to getchya pregnant, baby?"

"Mhm... Want ya to stick this big ol' cock in me and knot me up..."

And Ian is so blindly horny that it almost slips past him. He's so ready to haul Mickey into their bedroom and crack open the new lube but then he-... Wait a minute... He just said-...

Ian grows still behind him, embarrassment waiting in the wings as he carefully asks it. "How do you know that word...?"

"What... Knot...?" He can't see Mickey's face, but god damn he can hear the smirk on his lips. "Same reason I know your phone password..."

And oh... Ohhh boy, should Ian be having a crisis?

No. No, he doesn't think so. Because even with his search history fresh in mind, Mickey's playing along - feeding right into it, with another press of his ass into his lap and then a teasing brow raise as he starts for their bedroom.

"C'mon you alpha freak - come put a baby in me."

Ian stands for a second, at a loss for words in the middle of their kitchen.

But then they kick right in again - his animal instincts - and he's hot on Mickey's tail.

Fuck, he loves this man. He'll carry a thousand fucking grocery bags for him.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

[bussyslayer333]

i don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you

summary: midnight conversations with your boyfriend mickey

pairing: mickey garcia x girlfriend!reader

word count: 0.5k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, general nonsense hehe

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” you question, eyes intently locked on his.

“Yes. Next question.” Mickey answers simply.

“No, let’s circle back. I want an explanation.”

Mickey stares in your eyes for a moment. He’s conjuring up the correct answer.

You’re both lying on the grass in your garden, beer bottles lying to the side of you. You were hosting a small get together with your friends at your house, everyone had left now. Leaving you and Mickey basking in the warm breeze brought by summers in San Diego, even at just gone midnight.

“I have a question.” Mickey finally decides.

“Shoot, my love.” You hum.

“Are we still able to communicate?”

“Hmmmmm. Considering you’re a human and I’m a worm; probably not. However, I think our love transcends those barriers so maybe.”

Mickey nods, taking in what you’ve said. “What if I found a way to become a worm as well, then we could both be worms and we could build a little worm life together.”

You squeeze his hand that is intertwined with yours, “that sounds nice.”

“I know right. Can I ask a question now?” He continues.

“Of course.” You lean up only to take a sip from your beer then lay your head back down amongst the grass.

“Would you rather we be a couple of worms or a couple of butterflies?”

“That’s a tough one.” You declare, “okay give me the facts.”

“We stay together no matter which one we become. But, in one we are worms and the other we are butterflies.” He answers, reaching a hand forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

He leaves his hand on your face, stroking at your cheek absentmindedly.

“Upon first inspection, I would say butterflies because they’re cuter obviously, but now i’m thinking about us living in a cute little vegetable patch as worms. Ooh could it be Bob’s veg patch?” You rant.

“The vegetable patch is wherever you want, baby.” He coos.

You nod in acknowledgment, “okay so we’re in Bob’s bountiful vegetable patch and we’re creating fertile soil so his vegetable’s can flourish as well as just having fun being a worm power couple.”

“Bet the other worms are so jealous,” Mickey chuckles.

“Totally. We’re like the Beyoncé and Jay-Z of worm couples.” You giggle.

Mickey rolls over and cages his arms above your head. He leans down and smushes his lips into yours. It’s kind of sloppy from both ends, and when you pull back breathless there is a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Should we go inside, wormy?” He asks, rolling back down and pulling you into his chest.

You rest your head on his pec and look up to the moon.

“Five more minutes, wormy?” You tease.

“Fine.” He smiles.

“Why do we end up worms in all of these scenarios?” You ponder.

“I think it’s just testament to the idea that we’ll always find each other.” Mickey affirms.

You hum. “Sounds about right.”

a/n: sorry if this is crazy 😭😭 i just thought the worm question needed to be asked and obviously mickey would be the only to answer correctly

i hope u enjoy this weird little piece,, pls comment or reblog and tell me what you thought hehe

jake fic will be posted soon!

ty for reading!!

- honey <333

[casasupernovas]

10 is a complete and utter arsehole and RTD *mostly* gets this (obviously all the Time Lord Victorious stuff, but also his 10/Rose in S2 is a cautionary tale of two people who get so obsessively caught up with each other they endanger others and themselves until they eventually cause their own separation, like a precursor to 12/Clara, except he then undoes all his good work by bringing Rose back to give her a ‘happy ending’ with clone 10) but the fandom at large never really got that and I’m not sure why. Because Tennant’s pretty? Because he and Piper looked good together?

I don't think 10 is a *complete arsehole*

But the fandom doesn't acknowledge how s2 was a cautionary tale retconned to star crossed lovers in s3 & 4 because they are more attached to the ship rather than the actualy reality of 10 and Rose as a duo.

The legacy for 10 and Rose is Torchwood. I personally think most 10/Rose fans never watched Torchwood and that is why they don't get why 10 and Rose as a cautionary tale is a thing. I think they get to a degree the more immediate effects of the 10/Rose duo, e.g. how it affects Mickey and Jackie, but not the bigger picture.

But if you have seen Torchwood, I honestly don't know why anyone would ship 10 and Rose, or at least only give the ship space to actually acknowledge the gravity of their actions.

Now, most of the responsibility falls on the Doctor's shoulders here, not Rose, but at the end of the day, the insitute was founded to defend from alien *threat.* The Queen's impression of the Doctor was of someone who could not someone to be trusted. Now, we've seen people mistrust him off of one meeting, but it's doubly bad when Rose is involved because the companion is supposed to be the moral compass.

Captain Jack was the one who rebuilt it in Wales. Which is a whole can of worms in itself, because what did it say that someone who essentially was turned into a freak of nature who could not die (10 romanticises it by saying the final act of the Time War was life before hastily saying she couldn't control it and therefore Jack was stuck because of it) and was forced to work there, to the point where his morals began to erode and after the death of all the Torchwood members in the 90s, finally is free. He then proceeds to work with operatives while Torchwood One in London thrives and drives the city towards disaster. The Doctor interferes again and deposes Harriet - and who gave him the right? He's too arrogant and self righteous for his own good and highkey proved Yvonne Hartman right here.

I don't wanna make this ask longer than it is but honestly that's my answer. They didn't force Torchwood to act the way it did, but they are the root cause of it.

The Tenth Doctor and Rose's legacy is Torchwood. It affects every companion also (Martha and Adeola, Donna and HC Clements) and shapes everything but the show will be damned if they ever addressed this.

[sirfrogsworth]

The number of items you qualify for determines which circle of Hell you will end up in.

Here is a handy guide to see who you will be partying with in The Inferno.

First Circle: Limbo or "Heaven Lite."

Were you a decent person but forgot to get baptized? Welcome to Meh-ven. Not quite as good as Heaven, but you still get to live in a neat castle.

Second Circle: Lust or "Too horny for Heaven."

This circle is for those who banged their way through life. You are punished by being blown violently back and forth by strong winds, preventing you from finding peace and rest.

So, basically Chicago.

Third Circle: Gluttony or "You should have ordered a salad instead of that Bloomin' Onion."

I'm pretty sure this is the fat shaming Hell. You are overseen by a giant worm monster named Cerberus and placed into a large slushie machine. You must lie in frozen slush for eternity thinking about all of those hot dog eating contests you won.

Fourth Circle: Greed or "What? I gave $20 to the Red Cross every year!"

You are overseen by Pluto, the dog of Mickey Mouse. Or maybe the demoted dwarf planet. I honestly did not do enough research to be sure. Circle 4 is divided into people who spent too much and people who hoarded too much. They must push giant boulders at each other in a game of eternal rock jousting.

Fifth Circle: Anger or...

The angry must join a fight club and brawl each other atop the River Styx.

The grumpy must gurgle beneath the pugilists--submerged forever in that same river.

Sixth Circle: Heresy or "Ya know, I'm pretty sure the Earth revolves around the Sun. Hey, why is this priest placing me in shackles? It's just science, bro!"

Did you go against the Church? Well, for that they just straight up set you on fire. Not the most creative damnation, but I'm sure all of the flaming souls look neat from a spectator's point of view.

Seventh Circle: Violence or "Apparently, these things are all the same amount of bad... murder, suicide, and booty sex."

This circle is divided into three other circles. Which means there are 12 total circles. Which is confusing, but whatever.

In sub-circle 7a, you have the murderers. They are submerged in a river of blood that is also on fire.

Is blood flammable? Did Dante even try to set blood on fire before writing this? I'm thinking, no. YOU ARE TESTING MY SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF, DANTE.

In sub-circle 7b, you have people who have taken their own life. These folks are turned into shrubbery. Once in your final shrub form, this handsome harpy gal slowly eats you for eternity.

In sub-circle 7c, you have all of the anal fornicators. If you ever stuck it in a butt or had it stuck in your butt, you get to spend your afterlife in a desert of burning sand. And it is raining. So it is one of those rare rainy deserts I guess. Oh, but the rain is on fire.

WHY ARE SO MANY NON-FLAMMABLE THINGS ON FIRE, DANTE?

Eighth Circle: Fraud or "Is fraud really worse than murder?"

I'm going to be straight with you.

The eighth circle is a hot mess.

I'm pretty sure Dante was getting tired of creating new circles for every bad person, so he made a catchall for the villains that didn't quite fit into the previous circles and sub-circles. Instead of creating 10 sub-circles for the 8th circle, he decided to just throw everyone into their own hell ditch. These ditches are called Bolgias.

And now a Top Ten List from the home office in Wahoo, Nebraska.

Top ten types of people stuck in an eternal Bolgia ditch in the 8th circle of hell.

10. Falsifiers such as counterfeiters and wellness gurus. 9. Divisive individuals such as Fox News pundits and Chris Pratt. 8. Advisors such as self help authors and life coaches. 7. Thieves such as whoever created overdraft fees. 6. Hypocrites such as rich Pro-Lifers who have paid for several abortions for their mistresses. 5. Corrupt politicians such as (the list exceeded this post's maximum word count). 4. Wizards!

3. People who purchase pardons like pretty much anyone associated with Donald Trump. 2. Flatterers such as pick up artists and old ladies who tell me I am handsome in the grocery store. 1. Seducers such as people who have cake and want sex and are like, "Would you like some tasty cake in exchange for sex?"

Look, seduction is in the eye of the beholder and all I'm saying is cake would probably work on me.

Circle Nine: Treachery or "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"

Okay, so the 9th circle has 4 rounds.

Which sound an awful lot like circles.

Which brings us to 16 circles in the 9 circles of Hell.

I'm wondering if Dante named the book before he wrote it and everything was done with permanent ink so he couldn't change it.

The 9th circle has 4 frozen circles rounds, each dedicated to notorious traitors. Like a tribute to their epic level of sinfulness.

First up you have the Cain round. He was the first person to ever have a little brother and no one told him you can't just kill the little shit. People in the Cain round are encased up to the base of the neck, so they can still look around and stuff.

The second round is dedicated to Antenor. He was a Trojan. In reality, he negotiated peace with the Greeks. In myth, he opened the city gates and let the Greeks in so they could murder everyone. He was spared because he painted his house with panther blood.

"Panther Blood... 60% of the time it works *every* time." --Antenor

People here are encased to the top of the neck, so they are looking one direction forever.

Coming in round three we have Ptolemy. He didn't care much for his father-in-law, Simon Maccabaeus. So he invited Simon and his sons to a fancy banquet and Red Wedding'd the shit out of them. Ptolemy rounders are encased face-up in the ice just below eye level. That way, whenever they cry for being damned, their tears will freeze over. Over time those frozen tears create an ice visor that takes away the ability to weep ever again. And I'm guessing everything is real blurry too.

Round four is dedicated to the most infamous betrayer of all time. That's right, my favorite character in JC Superstar... Judas Iscariot.

Judas rounders are completely encased in ice. Permanently frozen and immobile with their bodies in every conceivable distorted and twisted position. Chances are, they have too much Heaven on their minds.

And in the very center of the nine-ish 16 circles of Hell, you have Satan himself. The fallen angel, Lucifer.

The story, as I like to imagine it, goes like this...

Lucifer was shooting the shit with the other angels and was all, "I could probably take God, right? He's not so tough."

And since a utopian existence is actually pretty boring and without drama, the other angels responded, "Absolutely! You've been working out and look totally jacked. You got this, dude." All while trying to hold in their laughter.

ANGEL PRANKS!

Lucifer then challenges God and gets instantly Thanos snap'd into a frozen lake. Lucifer sulks for all eternity wondering why those other angels told him he could whip God's metaphorical noncorporeal ass.

Satan is depicted as a hideous three-headed beast frozen up to his waist. He has six bat-like wings that flap and create a chilling breeze that keeps the ice frozen. Literally a hell of his own making. In each of Lucifer's mouths is a famous traitor being forever gnawed. History's most famous collective stabbers, Brutus and Cassius are being chewed in the left and right heads. And Judas is stuck in the viscous center maw while getting the world's worst backscratch from Satan's claws.

But wait, it gets racist!

Each devil head is a different color... Red for Europeans. Yellow for Asians. And black for Africans.

Dante, you little shit.

Alright folks, it is time to add up your totals. Which circle or sub-circle of Hell are you going to party in for eternity?

I'll do mine.

I am slightly homo for Chris Evans when he uses his biceps to curl a helicopter. I want him to hug me because I think he probably smells nice.

I do consider myself a feminist because I watched too many woke Disney films and I was indoctrinated by public schools.

I once ran out of RAM because I had too many tabs open in Chrome. I'm not sure if that qualifies me as a "porn freak" but I'm going to count it.

I smoked pot twice. The first time it made me feel like my head was full of bees and then I passed out for 12 hours. The second time I only inhaled once... and my head filled with bees and I passed out for 12 hours. Counting it.

When I was 18 my church's youth counselor matter-of-factly stated that my best friend was going to Hell. I thought, "That's silly, he's just a theater nerd who wore a floofy shirt and a Phantom of the Opera cape to school on multiple occasions. He's harmless and religion is dumb." So a big check for atheist.

I idolize my bestie Katrina because she is very good a puns. Is that worthy of idolization? Probably not. But I stand by it regardless.

And as far as masturbation goes... again, I ran out of RAM for having too many tabs open in Chrome.

I think I qualify for the seventh circle of Hell. I think I am going to engage in some mild thuggery so I can hang out in 7b as a nice shrub getting eaten by a harpy.

I realize there are only 12 options and 16 possible circles. So I have decided you may use a yoga pants multiplier.

1x if they are too tight but you went through tremendous effort to put them on so you are just going with it. 1x if they were acquired from an MLM mom on Facebook. 1x if they make that booty pop. 1x if they contain a pattern with as many non-complimentary colors as possible.

Welp. I put way too much effort into this.

I guess I'll see you all in Hell!

[postgamecontent]

Nintendo Switch Weekly Round-Up for the Week Ending September 28, 2024

Hello gentle readers, and welcome to the Nintendo Switch Weekly Round-Up for the week ending September 28, 2024. This has been a busy week for new releases, with a handful of obvious attention-grabbers and a lot of weird and interesting smaller games. I've included as many as I could fit, and I hope this helps you separate the cool junk from the boring junk. Let's check out this week in the world of Switch!

Select New Releases

The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom ($59.99)

A brand-new top-down Zelda game, this time featuring… Zelda?! Wow! Link has gone missing, and Princess Zelda is going to flex her magical power to save him and the rest of Hyrule. She has some help from a fairy named Tri and a magical artifact called the Tri Rod, the latter of which opens up all kinds of fun-looking mechanics. I might do a review of this one, in case anyone needs a review of something like this. You probably have already decided if you want it or not, though.

EA Sports FC 25 Standard Edition ($59.99)

It's the latest edition of EA Sports' long-running series of soccer/football games, and I'm not going to disrespect either of us by pretending I know what's new here or even what makes one of these good or bad. Consider this a notice that it is now available for general purchase on Switch, no more and no less.

Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed ($59.99)

Warren Spector's much-hyped Mickey game gets remade for the Nintendo Switch with this release. I haven't played the remake yet, but the original game was decent enough. If nothing else, this gives me the chance to remind everyone that Disney traded play-by-play commentator Al Michaels' contract to NBCUniversal to acquire Oswald the Lucky Rabbit for use in this game. And, you know, elsewhere. But the first use was in this game, and that's really funny to me. Anyway, try the demo and see how it sits with you.

Iron Meat ($19.99)

Hailed by folks with numerous conflicts of interest with the publisher as "better than Contra" and by others as "a pretty good run-and-gun", Iron Meat is another solid entry in a genre that has seen a decent amount of love in recent years on the platform. Is it better than Blazing Chrome? Better than Operation Galuga? Does it matter? If you enjoy games like these, stop comparing flavors and dig in! You never know when winter is coming for any given genre.

Earth Defense Force: World Brothers 2 ($39.99)

Sure, why not more World Brothers? Look, this isn't the Earth Defense Force some people would ideally want to see on Switch, but this is what we've got. And it's fine for what it is. Very much in line with the first World Brothers in design and performance, so if you liked that game on Switch then you're all set here. Similarly, if you found the technical sacrifices were too much in the original game, you won't have a better time with this one.

Worms Armageddon: Anniversary Edition ($24.99)

Why would you buy Worms Armageddon for twenty-five buckeroos when you can get W.M.D. for six dollars during its very regular sales? The addition of the Game Boy Color version of the game probably won't be much of a pot sweetener for many, but this being a stealth Digital Eclipse Gold Master entry might. Yes, you get that timeline hotness! You don't even have to like the game, so long as you have an interest in gaming history. I can vouch for that, because I hate this game but I think this is a neat release that could have been even better as a full-blown Worms collection.

Cash Cow DX ($5.99)

Moo-ve over, Donut Dodo. There's a new retro-style arcade action game in town, and it's ready to milk you out of your six bucks. This game comes from the developer of Donut Dodo and has a lot of the same qualities to it. You're running around each stage trying to grab all the cash while avoiding enemies. Very enjoyable stuff. Feel free to have a look at the review I posted yesterday, if you haven't already seen it.

REYNATIS ($59.99)

Oh, it's FuRyu time again. I suspect we've got the usual FuRyu experience on our hands here. Which is to say, a rather middling game hobbled by its low budget with a few glimmers of greatness that might be enough to satisfy a few players. This one is an action-RPG, and the famous names that have been affixed to lure in the blissfully ignorant are scenario writer Kazushige Nojima (Zodiac: Orcanon Odyssey) and composer Yoko Shimomura (Code Name: Viper). This game is not very good at all. I might write up a review to explain why, if I have the time. No one brought their best here, but it's FuRyu, so what do you expect?

3 Minutes to Midnight ($24.99)

It's never encouraging when you see that registered trademark name on a title. It suggest a certain set of priorities that are sometimes at odds with a quality creative endeavor. Fortunately, this bucks that assumption by being a rather decent point-and-click adventure game. It's one aimed at the more hardcore fans of the genre, as it is quite lengthy and involved, but there's nothing wrong with that. If you're a fan of the genre, this is worth investigating.

Go Mecha Ball ($19.99)

Add another twin-stick roguelite to the pile. We've got tons of these, so what's this one's gimmick? Basically, you can ball up Samus Aran style and roll around at high speeds. You can get a bunch of weapons, abilities, and upgrades to help you on your way, which is more or less how these things go. There's something here, but I don't know that the spark of potential properly ignites. Not bad, but I wouldn't rush out and buy it or anything.

Exographer ($19.99)

An exploratory adventure that sees you on a rescue mission on an alien planet. You'll explore levels, investigate an extinct civilization, and earn new powers that will help you reach previous inaccessible areas. There are puzzles to solve, and you'll have to make use of your special camera to figure things out. This game is really pushing science as its selling point, so we'll have to see if that results in an enjoyable game or not.

Lets castle ($13.99)

I've retained the exact title from the eShop here, and believe me, I also find it a little irritating. This is a relatively low-pressure game where you have to build a castle from given parts. You'll occasionally get specific orders from the Queen and will need to build to her specifications. I like the pixel art, at least.

Ahro ($11.99)

Okay, get this. Ahro is a side-scroller with a simplified yet stylish look, and it's a metaphor for mental health issues. Anxiety and panic disorder, to be specific. The gameplay gimmick is that you can release your spirit to explore and collect goobers. I'm kind of tired of this kind of thing by now, but perhaps you're feeling more fresh about the idea.

Looney Tunes: Wacky World of Sports ($49.99)

Oh no, it's Game Mill. Don't expect too much. You get four sports here, including Basketball, Soccer, Golf, and Tennis. Up to four players can join in via local multiplayer, and there are nine playable Looney Tunes characters. I'm sure it's at least as competent as some of the sports games we see around the ten dollar price point on the eShop. If you really love the Looney Tunes, don't let me stop you.

Murder Is Game Over: Deal Killer ($4.99)

I guess these must be going well for Ratalaika. Another mystery for Detective Guy and his dog to solve, this time concerning the murder of an executive of a video game publisher. I choose not to read anything into that. You don't have to have played the previous games to enjoy this one, so feel free to jump in if you're interested.

Luna-3X ($9.99)

An off-beat game about a pair of heroes trying to save as many creatures as they can before the world ends in seven days. They do that, of course, by having one play the tamborine while dangling from a fishing rod held by the other. You can play alone, but this one is built for two players. One person controls the fishing rod while the other plays their instrument in rhythm to lure the creatures in. Charming and quite unique.

Arcade Archives Blast Off ($7.99)

You would think that a 1989 release from Namco in a well-worn genre that also serves as a follow-up of sorts, albeit in name only, to Bosconian would be a safe bet. Alas, Blast Off is a rather dull example of the vertical shoot 'em up genre. I'm not sure I'd recommend it to anyone except those are basically buying every Arcade Archives game or every shoot 'em up. A really rare total miss from this publisher, but history is history. Hamster isn't just in it to reissue the hits.

JALECOlle Famicom Ver. Bio Warrior DAN The Increaser War ($7.99)

The Earth is on the brink of total ruin, and only a time traveling bio warrior named Dan can save us! City Connection packed in a lot of extras for this one, including a new map screen, quick weapon switching, and a number of other UI improvements. The game is also fully translated into English, so that's nice. I'm really appreciating these releases so far.

Night Slashers: Remake ($9.99)

I like Night Slashers as much as the next Data East fan, but even I wouldn't have had it near the head of the list for a remake. Nevertheless, here we are. Night Slashers in a very clean, modern graphical style that is probably trying to evoke Streets of Rage 4 but not quite getting there. Still, the price is right and it's as gory and goofy a time as ever, now with support for four players. I gave my thoughts on this one yesterday in my review, so do check that out if you haven't already.

Astrea: Six-Sided Oracles ($24.99)

Hey, it's another one of these Slay The Spire/Darkest Dungeon deckbuilding turn-based roguelite things. As you can guess from the name, you'll be playing with dice in this one. It seems to have reviewed rather well on PC, and I imagine there are many Switch owners who will appreciate it as well.

The Holy Gosh Darn ($19.99)

A time traveling narrative action-adventure, with four different worlds to explore across space and time. You'll have to engage in some time shenanigans to solve the puzzles and move the story forward. I feel like this has some real potential, but I haven't had a chance to try out the demo for it yet. But hey, the demo is indeed right there. Give it a shot and see if you like it.

Bloomtown: A Different Story ($24.99)

This is a turn-based RPG with a 1960s Americana theme, and that's enough to help it stand out a little right off the hop. There's monster taming, some life sim bits, and a mystery involving two very different sides of one small town. Naturally, it's up to some kids to save the day. Early reviews on this have been positive, if not excessively so. If you're keen on the premise, you might want to look into it further.

Silver Axe - The Honest Elf ($18.99)

Another Metroidvania-style adventure for the pile. This one has a nice look to it and it's not outright terrible or anything, but in a genre this competitive I don't think it has what it takes to really stand out. It's just a bit too floaty, and the map designs don't have a nice flow to them. You might feel differently, though.

revive of the moon ($19.99)

I suppose it is almost October, isn't it? Here's a zombie action game supervised by Japanese comedian Hidetaka Kano. It's not the fanciest of dinners, but there is a certain charm to its straightforward approach. The writing is a little better than you would expect, too. I'm not very interested in zombie stuff anymore, but if I were? This might be something I'd go for.

Creepy Tale: Some Other Place ($9.99)

This little series has clearly found its audience. This is the fourth game in the series, and it tells its own little self-contained story within the fairy tale world and aesthetic that Creepy Tale is known for. Anyway, the usual business. Solve puzzles, follow the story, immerse yourself in the atmosphere. I've never been able to get into any of these, but I can at least see the appeal.

Beyond Galaxyland ($17.99)

A sci-fi RPG about a human high-schooler named Doug who, along with his guinea pig Boom Boom, narrowly escapes the destruction of Earth. Now residing in a zoo-like collection of planets called Galaxyland, Doug embarks on a quest to try to set things right. He'll meet an odd cast of characters along the way, of course. This game fits a lot of things in, including puzzles, platforming, turn-based battles, and a creature-capturing mechanic for good measure. So far reviews seem relatively good, and I'm looking forward to checking it out when I have a hot minute.

Resope! ($2.99)

It's always fun to find really low-priced games that serve as a good distraction for an evening, and Resope! is certainly one of those. There are sushi pieces trapped between wood blocks, and you need to free them. You do that by igniting the wood blocks, letting the sushi drop to the bottom. Make combos for a higher score, as one does in this kind of thing. There are a couple of extra modes here but the main one is fairly short, so be aware of that before you buy.

Anarkade ($14.99)

This genre of game feels like it has dropped off a high cliff in terms of popularity, but you still see the odd one release now and then. It's a 2D multiplayer arena shooter for up to four players, either local or online. Nothing particularly special about this one as far as I can tell, but it seems well-made for what it is.

Food Boy ($11.99)

It's like Paper Boy, except you're tossing pizzas at customers instead of newspapers. Run down any angry customers, and try to make a solid buck. Watch out for the many obstacles that will get in your way, of course. I'd rather have Paper Boy, but WB Games seems shy about sharing their old toys these days. That leaves an opportunity for games like this one, I suppose.

That's all for this week, friends. We'll be back next Saturday with another Round-Up as we make our way into October and the many games that will come with it. As ever, I will plug both my Patreon (where you can find lots of cool exclusive articles) and my Ko-Fi (tips help me run this blog). There, plugged. I hope you have a super Saturday, and as always, thanks for reading!

[rebelbyrdie]

The Evil Twin Effect

Lacey is back and Zelena is in for a shock. Do they have a ship name? WickedLace?

Here is some silliness.

Regina had two babies, a pile of paperwork the size of a dwarf and a screaming headache. How had she double-booked herself for babysitting both Neal and Robyn was beyond her.

What did everyone have that kept them so busy on a Tuesday afternoon?

She looked over at the children. They were playing together with the same toys that Henry had when he'd been their age. They were both just shy of two years old and adorable. They didn't know or care about curses, fueds, family trees or anything that wasn't related to juiceboxes, or the Mickey Mouse cartoons.

"Madam Mayor."

Her unflappable assistant (and former spymaster) Aggie's voice came from the small intercom on her desk phone. She sounded very stressed.

"Sheriff Swan is here and she brought-"

Aggie paused.

"-guests. I'm going to block off the rest of your day."

She sighed.

"Possibly the rest of the week."

Well that certainly didn't bode well for her headache. Her office door opened and Emma popped her head inside.

"Hey-"

The way she dragged out the word betrayed Emma's anxiety.

"So remember how Belle said she found some old magical books at the library?"

Emma pushed the door open and came inside.

"There has been an incident and since Gold is not really doing the magic thing anymore-"

Regina raised her brow.

"Emma what is going-"

"Oh for goodness sake!"

Belle pushed by Emma and entered the office. Whatever she was about to say died on her tongue when she saw the two babies.

"Oh no.”

She tuned to look over her shoulder.

A second Belle walked through the door.

Regina knew who she was looking at immediately.

“Hello Lacey.”

Belle’s cursed persona had only been enacted for a short time, but she’d left an impression.

Belle wore a conservitivly cut blouse, a knee length skirt, tights and heels. Her wardrobe was very Mary Margaret but couture.

Lacey, on the other hand, was anything but conservative. Her dress was short, clingy, and stop-light red. She had on dark thigh-high boots with heels higher than Regina's own. Her hair was tousled and her makeup dark.

Sharp crystal blue eyes met her own.

“Hello Madam Mayor.”

Those eyes were cold, calculating, and clever.

“Or is it Your Majesty?”

Belle hovered anxiously between her doppelganger and the children.

Emma stood by the door, leaned against the wall. No help at all.

Lacey came closer, like a shark gliding through the water. Lacey was as intelligent as Belle, but lacked her gentle nature. She was all angles, arrogance, and ambition.

Regina regarded her.

“This is interesting.”

She was almost certain that she'd seen this on an episode of Star Trek. Next Generation or Voyager? Both? She couldn't quite recall.

There were splitting spells too, But Regina doubted it was that simple. Belle and Lacey weren’t strictly good and evil pieces of a whole. They were each a full blown individual person with memories and opinions.

“Make her go away!”

Belle Was borderline hysterical.

“Make her stop whining.”

Lacey sat on the edge of Regina's desk and crossed one leg over the other. Closer to her than anyone else in the room. She clearly expected Regina to be on “her side” of whatever this was.

Regina's headache was getting worse by the second.

Neal, the cutest of the Charming brood, toddled over to Emma and demanded her attention.

Robyn, however, was fascinated by Belle and Lacey.

Regina wasn’t sure if the little witch could sense the magic or was just fascinated by seeing two Belles instead of one.

“And where is Rumple?”

Even if he wasn’t going to help magically, Belle was his wife.

“I don’t-”

Belle pinched her nose between two fingers.

“-He doesn't need to know about her.”

“A little trouble-”

Lacey chuckled darkly.

“-in paradise already? Do you think he’s bored of the good little book worm act?”

Belle’s face went red and she sputtered, but she did not reply.

Regina could not handle this alone.

She twisted her wrist. A small gold bracelet with two cards, a Ruby apple and an emerald apple, was warm against her skin.

She tapped the small emerald with a single finger.

“Can you come to my office now.”

A moment later there was a curl of green smoke.

Zelena, half-dressed and fully panicked, appeared.

“Regina? Robyn?”

She was wearing a very short silk robe and her hair was dripping wet. Regina had called her out of the bath.

In hindsight, she should have texted instead of using their communication bracelet.

“What in Ozma’s name is going on here?”

Since she saw that Robyn was okay, Zelena’s mood snapped from panic to anger in an instant.

It took only a moment for Zelena to see.

“There’s two of them now!”

Zelena huffed and picked up her daughter. She kissed Robyn on the cheek then rolled her eyes.

“Keep whatever sexual shenanigans the imp and his bookworm are in to away from me.”

“And who”

Lacey’s voice was a low purr. Her eyes traveled up Zelena’s form. Starting at her polished toes, lingering on her hips and breast's, until finally meeting her eyes.

“-are you?”

Lacey slid off her desk. Her bootheels clicked on the marble floor. The boots boosted her height so she was almost eye-to-eye with Zelena.

“Even cursed I would remember you. I mean how could anyone forget?”

Regina had never seen her sister at a loss for words. Well, except when she'd taken her voice.

“I-”

Zelena's cheeks were suddenly flushed. Her eyes were wide and she stood stock-still. She was like a deer in headlights.

Lacey came closer and ran a single finger along the flowers embroidered on Zelena's robe.

“I'm Lacey French.”

She reached put a single finger to Robyn. The little girl took it with a grin.

“and I assure you that I want nothing to do with that imp or my stuck up sister.”

A smile, so much like her daughter's, spread across Zelena's face.

“You can call me Zelena. This is my daughter Robyn, and-"

Her voice dropped a little.

"Don't get me started on sisters.”

Zelena spared her a glance and a smirk.

“Can't live with them. Can't successfully erase them from history.”

Lacey threw her head back and laughed. It was party and whole-bodied. Nothing like Belle’s little snickers and giggles.

“Why don't I buy you a glass of wine and a juicebox and we can chat all about it?”

Zelena flicked Her wrist and instantly changed into a black dress. Even Royn’s clothes changed to match.

“You have magic?”

Lacey cocked a brow.

"Beauty, power and a built in mini-me? And they say there is no such thing as a perfect woman.”

Belle and Regina watched their sisters leave together silently.

Emma summed up the spectacle perfectly.

“What the fuck!”

“Fuck!”

Her brother screamed the obscenity.

Belle dropped onto the couch.

“What he said. God I need a drink.”

Regina just rested her head in her hands, at a loss.

She looked up at Emma and inwardly sighed. At least one of the Mills sisters had a shot at getting the girl.

[spook-study]

Public Domain is everything. The all encompassing freedom of Public Domain has never been more clear than in the horror genre. Poe, Lovecraft, Shelley, Verne, Stoker, Leroux- all up for grabs. But that doesn’t mean they’re the only ones getting the living touch of fear. Horror is bolstered by Public Domain, expanded by it, and it makes for some wild movies. Filmmakers lovingly poking at non-spooky classical literature is how you get fun little things like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016). People wait with bated breath on their tippy toes to lampoon the stories they love by adding a little bloody flair. I can't wait to see what people do with Mickey Mouse. While these movies or books may not always be the best, they’re always worth a smile. But some people just end up bespoiling well known properties with what seems to be very little thought.

And that’s how we get thing like Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey.

Where do I even begin here. This movie was a mess. First of all, Pooh and Piglet are the only two members of the Hundred Acre Wood who appear. Instant disappointment. Is it too much to ask that we get to see Eeyore go crazy and attack some unsuspecting young folk? You know behind all that ho-hum attitude there's got to be some rage brewing. What about Owl? Terror from above and ambush attacks oh how I wanted for thee. Kanga and a now grown Roo could have had some freaky mother/son crap going on. I mean it's a horror movie that actively corrupts these characters, so why not throw in a little weird anthropomorphic animal incest? Roo always was quite attached to his mother. Rabbit could have been unnaturally fast, a speed killer, nothing but a blur before victims were tugged off the screen to their untimely demise. Plus the munching? Rabbits are munchers. Imagine big Rabbit munch crunching on bones like they were carrots. Gopher could have been a knock-out, huge mounds of earth moving towards someone until he snatched them up like he was a giant worm in Tremors (1980). That's just off the top of my head.

These are things that could have related the characters to their original properties, which the movie doesn't even do for the only two characters from the Hundred Acre Wood that are actually in it.

Tigger. Tigger was not in this movie. I am livid just thinking about it. I don't like to swear too much when I write my silly little spook studies, but honestly what the fuck? What the fuck! He is a tiger! You know, one of the deadliest ambush predators in existence? On average they apparently kill 1800 people every year. He could have been Shere Khan times a thousand. Plus he bounces? That would have been freak city. It just felt like one of Blood and Honey's many missed opportunities. They could have each had one amazing kill apiece, the body count in this movie was certainly high enough for it. Kanga, Roo, Rabbit, Eeyore, and Gopher I can understand not using, even though Roo was always my personal favorite.

No Tigger though? Unfathomable. Tigger got his own movie. I know the full group is big and maybe too much to tackle, but Tigger is such a popular character it felt weird that he wasn't in this. We get Pooh and we get Piglet. Two characters must mean they both must look amazing, though, right?

Wrong. The design for them was bad, plain and simple. It really grinds my gears thinking of all the wasted potential of having Blood and Honey be a Milne property. It could have been so campy and weird and fun and instead we got two guys walking around with masks on. They looked like a couple of friends put together Halloween costumes for 'scary Pooh and Piglet' and splurged on the good masks. The rest of the costuming consists of clothes you might find in your weird uncle's closet. There were no alterations to any part of them below the neck. They had human feet, human hands, and human mannerisms. Pooh is wearing overalls. Piglet is fully dressed as well, but at least his clothing is worn. Pooh's plaid shirt, on the other hand, looks practically brand new. The only clothing Pooh should have been wearing is a tattered red crop top. Piglet should have been naked. I mean how gross would that have been? Naked Piglet, hog out, goring you to death. Now that would have been a good time!

Money was almost definitely the issue. When faced with a movie that was as much of a let down as this one, sometimes it's hard to remember to take those things into account. Less money, less cast, less effects. 'Shoe-string budget' might even be too generous to describe what the cost of this movie. But it isn't necessarily about the money you have, rather where that money goes. I think Tigger should have been budgeted for. Maybe lower the body count, which saves on actor pay, costuming pay, and special effects pay. Keep it to one or two simple locations with minimal travel. With unfathomably small budgets like the one for Blood and Honey, it might have been beneficial to tighten it up even more. Shrink it, contain it, make it more intimate. Blood and Honey felt too big for its britches. Perhaps there should have been more focus on the costuming, makeup, and effects that might have gone into our childhood comfort characters. I'm very passionate about the practical elements in movies, so these designs were totally disappointing to me.

I've spent a lot of time talking about things this movie didn't do, which can be a bit unfair considering the constraints of budget and production. I try my best to take movies as they are presented, but Blood and Honey gave me so little it makes it easy to talk about what might have been. Why not this, why not that. But let's get back into what the movie was.

The story, unfortunately, wasn't strong enough to make up for the lackluster creature designs. In typical Christopher Robin fashion, he eventually grows up and says goodbye to his friends. He had always brought sweets and tea with him, but upon his cessation they can't provide for themselves, go crazy and, for lack of a better term, become cannibalistic. They eat poor Eeyore.

Is it cannibalism if they're eating a member of a different species? Not really, but I think that's probably the best way to describe it. They eat him because they begin to starve.

Pooh, who notoriously scavenges for honey and should be hibernating anyway starves. Rabbit, who has his own garden and would stockpile for winter starves. Gopher would eat roots, Owl would hunt for small prey, both starving. Kangaroos eat mushrooms, among other things, and they both still starve. Piglet is potentially the only ones who would have difficulty providing for himself just because pigs need a rich diet and a lot of food. But in the source material they have a communal table, and even feed Christopher Robin. But there's no gory family meal here; it turns out they cannot live without the food he brought with him. Real animals can and do become food dependent on humans, but these characters are not fully animals. The movie even tells you so, calling them abominations. They have human intellect! They have a community. They built houses. They swing knives and hammers around with deadly intent. But they can't do farming. Seems they can eat ass with the best of them, though.

While we see Eeyore's munched upon skeletal remains, there's no explanation for the rest of the group being missing. Were they eaten, frozen to death, or killed by a hunter? If the movie did tell me I ended up missing it, which was no surprise because guess what? They do not speak! They don't fucking speak! Why isn't killer Pooh "hoo-hoo"-ing? Where were the rumblies in his tumbly before he ate someone? That iconic voice coming out of a huge man-bear as he kills? Come on. I mean it's right there! Honestly I felt like so many issues with this movie could have been solved if they were given dialogue. Every member of the Hundred Acre Wood talks, that's just part of it.

Christopher Robin wasn't just imagining his adventures either. His friends are real. So where was the camp? Beloved early childhood characters turned killers is such a fun idea, so where was the fun? Why did it feel like this movie wanted it to be taken so seriously? It's Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, not Deliverance (1972).

Upon being "abandoned" by Christopher Robin, they grew resentful of humanity and eventually turned into killers of people, not just depressed donkeys. This makes enough sense, except they're active serial killers and have been for what seems like years. They plot, kidnap, and torture with intent and there's a slew of unsolved murders and disappearances in the Hundred Acre Wood. This suggests the Wood is traversed regularly enough to at least find some bodies. So why does anyone go there anymore? How many people have to die for the Wood to be fully canvassed? Why was there a huge mansion right on the edge of it, which our completely forgettable human characters rent?

Given the evidence, it should have been easy enough for law enforcement to find their little encampment, it isn't like it's hidden or invisible. Plenty of characters go there, too, so it isn't only accessible to children. That could have been interesting, if you needed the eyes of a child to get there. Plus, it would have forced the introduction of a character who's representative of the source's target age group, making it easy for the viewer to relate to their younger self- the version that actually watched or read Winnie the Pooh. Everyone in Blood and Honey is a young adult or older.

By far the biggest travesty of all is that Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey isn't a monster movie, it's a slasher movie. Every one of Christopher Robin's friends is an animal, but the filmmakers decided not to make a monster movie. Why even bother with the property, then? Pooh is running around with knives and weapons, doing hand-to-hand combat, drowning people. Folks, he drives a car.

He drives a car.

Insane. Absolutely insane.

I mean what in the hell? They are strange chimeras, amalgamations of human and animal. Blood and Honey leaned so heavily into human that they hardly seemed like animals at all. This also doesn't make much sense within the logic of the movie. Pooh can drive a car and stalks kids with the intention to scare, torture, and kill them, but god forbid he figures out scavenging or farming for food. Sure, Piglet munches down on some people, but only after tying them up or fighting them. A home invasion slasher movie. Villains in proverbial "Cabin in the Woods" movies can be basically anything- killers, monsters, aliens, animals, cannibals, demons, witches, gods, the Devil, viruses, zombies, werewolves, ghosts, mistaken perceptions, oneself, children, mental instability, Nazis, Kathy Bates- see what I'm saying? It was always going to be a cabin in the woods movie because it's set in the Hundred Acre Wood. That didn't mean it had to be a slasher.

Perhaps the filmmakers thought how serious it was would be funny enough on its own; it shouldn’t have been hard to make this satire. But if that was what this movie was going for, it didn’t land for me. There just wasn't much use of the source material. That was honestly the most frustrating thing. I kept waiting, and the Winnie the Pooh of it all never made an appearance. Why didn't he get caught in a window? Why wasn't he gulping down human blood from a honey jar, the label 'honey' crossed out for 'human?' Why couldn't he like, I don't know, control bees or something? Piglet turning into just a wild boar would have done it for him. Imagine Pooh and his pet Piglet on a leash. Hilarious, weird, a joke on how attached Piglet is to Pooh. The things that could have been!

Still, there were plenty of kills with plenty of blood, which was a saving grace. They had decent enough effects and were all pretty unique. Some of them are right gnarly, and that's always a plus for a horror movie. While many of the kills did make me laugh, just having the killers be Pooh and Piglet wasn’t quite enough. It was a constant string of asking 'what?' because there was just zero connection to Milne's works. They didn't talk so there were no zingy one-liners or tongue-in-cheek references. It was played too much like a straight slasher movie. Again: why a slasher and not a monster movie? Crush my dreams, why don’t you. I think it wanted to be satire, but where were the references? Where were the jokes? Where was the camp? Where was the hightened reality? I kept rolling my eyes: 'That's guy's not Winnie the Pooh,' 'What does this have to do with Winnie the Pooh?' There was no Pooh or Piglet about them, they were just dudes in masks. It's just a mask. It's just a mask!

They could have been switched for the guys from You're Next (2011) and I don’t think you would have needed to change a thing. The killers in You're Next even wear animal masks. So what's the point of having it be a Pooh property? There was no reason for them be from the Hundred Acre Wood other than to say they were. It felt like first-time writer/director/editor/producer Rhys Frake-Waterfield had written a slasher movie, then once Winnie the Pooh entered public domain he just tossed them in without changing anything. He also maybe took on too many jobs for this movie.

There's low budget, and then there's doing four different jobs yourself. Outside opinions and suggestions are essential to movie making. Producers think about what will attract audiences and money. Editors have an additional artistic eye and the conversations between they and the director almost always make for better movies. Quentin Tarantino used editor Sally Menke in every one of his movies until her passing because she got it. The original Star Wars trilogy was probably saved by George's then wife and editor Marcia Lucas if the post-divorce prequel trilogy is anything to go by. (Please don't come for me Star Wars fans.)

These were collaborations. A director needs outside opinions. Needs more than one pair of eyes looking at the final product. That goes double if they are also the writer. Killing your darlings is hard if no one is telling a writer where their own story is lacking. It's good to have a singular vision, but movies by nature are a cooperative work. So where was the behind-the-camera cooperation?

And just a little thing: it's the Hundred Acre Wood, singular. Not the Hundred Acre Woods, plural. Steam is coming out of my ears. Stuff like that kills me dead, because it makes it seem like no one even cared enough to check the name. And if they did, they didn't care enough to make it right. Why make it Winnie the Pooh at all? What's the point if you aren't going to pay attention to the details?

Despite my dislike, I truly hope Rhys Frake-Waterfield keeps making movies. It’s clearly something he wants and loves to do. I just think in ten years he’ll look back on this movie and cringe. Because it was cringe-worthy. I don’t enjoy disliking movies like this because the people who make horror tend to be very passionate about it.

I wanted this movie to be good, or at least a funny, entertaining bit of trash horror. I really wanted it to work. For a wide array of movies, people go in expecting it to be good. With most horror, however, people go in expecting it to be bad. See the difference? I try hard to give every horror movie I see the benefit of the doubt: sure it looks bad, but until it comes out I’m assuming it’s good. Because you never know!

Then I found out whether this movie was a good one, a so-bad-it’s-good one, or a bad one.

This movie was bad. For me it wasn’t even so-bad-it’s-good. The heartbreak of it all. I’m sure there’s more to be said, but I’m just sick and tired of even thinking about it; I this movie was that much of a let down. Not for me. I’m angry over it, frustrated, and a little bit baffled. How did this happen? I grew up with Pooh and friends, like many of us did, and I think we deserved a better horror movie about them than this one. I just kept asking why. Why, why, why.

How to even end this write-up? I didn't even mention how bored I was for the duration, either. Eye-rolling. It just stunk. It was hardly good for a laugh, there was no point to it being Winnie the Pooh, no references, no satire, no camp, no fun, no point of view, no nothing. It was a big fat wad of nothing. The idea was so wasted on this movie it felt like it wasn't used at all. Honestly it might have been better if it had just been two regular-degular killers. This movie was so disappointing and I disliked it so much I'm going to be a bit mean: Rhys Frake-Waterfield should be embarrassed. I would be. He just didn't seem to know how to use the characters.

Am I being a bit harsh? I don’t know, probably. But it just didn’t do it for me. Should I tell you to check it out? I don’t know. Maybe stoned? But I was stoned so what does that mean? Perhaps it was so not my taste that I’m missing something. I hope there are people out there who totally love this movie. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them.

I'd give this a zero if I didn't believe in my self-imposed rules about rating on one to five. To that note, in my book Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey (2023) gets an obvious 1/5.

[libidomechanica]

Pat through your leap thy beauties

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

And each other, sister Cosimo announce   … the mountains untwining? Ceased together   languish een. Was lightens mute in purpose like away; the true love that. Call a summer the day where their hands which we need,   thou’s bright in the yearning. The movie screech   itself to do. Me are Altars, and rope that starr’d you reproduce, you knee, At this ill-wresting. But seem a lord shall I knows!   The soldier-land o’er my Julia clouds the   earth tilt and her fare wooden green neon. When in loue, Marie, feend, yondering cold, and blink back. Because to be conferr’d with   scarce fair Syrinx in it. He bad cast or   two that words and I’ve to me, your virtues that springs, the wiser them, bleeding, I?

               2

She stone jaw of tales that incarnate limbs   the thing walk with grieve the gather come, deare,   and that’s what’s fate weight forth of between near stood and be all know in my fresht, they please, to the worse a bit of girl whom she was   not lustie Loue and bolted joined moan. Perhaps,   whose sad face: but prudes for five month: so, boy, you’ll finding to take mouse, and kissing, my descended? Could be trumpets, secret   hair mail and bar the gavel: esperations,   that you. Come, like thus letched and bower rang with my best barouched a thunderbold; brothed him through we inhabits;—   not say the natural love me from home, he   horses averted praising is said his sair, and neutralize her death for this game.

               3

Lord, its account it sorrow and nip each   suits the midnight in blowing full in part,   loue to a dog won’t dislike, and the hills thy lieu of dogs! The soul move may sway, because believeth and vials fire—brake him   summer’s friend: this bone, o’erspread of great, to   come have draw—his, elbowing the bell in there—thus ouer me, Louise, bright appetite! Maybe it shadows like a Mickey Finn   and people: this, t’ have looked like blue will   brings which Maud, so that came may flow is ruffle sight if our brother commits sweet: and a’ the black Edward’s daught, and natural a   parried, no near you! Is its printed daught   excellence; other head, or your point. Nobody nurst, trembling new knights, secret hair!

               4

And yet the Witch. Quiet compliant breath   in out they stole among roses, and fussed   us. Your animals: an old indeede than aughters, each the endless the space before I give me we’re no sinks beneath her   love speak with her mind? He set up the night,   that, if love, and shunned with a flow’rs sorry I could deride any care, carriage, and enough the price to despite of blood on   a boy feet, and make the canker-worm will   grind on newer proofe shiny things are land drooping like kelp clings great men far as bent, and barred.—For oh, her broke? You art jealous   of glass was gone, because of Cockney speak.   Up this breaking made a sunbeam: near head, and his pretty lad, sate bloom of her loved.

               5

Thy those look into my son! To get above   all, the boated Rhine: ye gloom, taking   and of the animals. I wish to do our lust. Low we sportion: renegadoes, transfixed his cunning term of brow; an’ she   will, oh, it is sing the freedom? Horace   he lips in the universal frame of which Sense, and the from the sea ground by there. They hate; and the fondest with hereupon   it all adore their Institution bore,   she can look back. Nor doth sharply, and barred I takes coming hair So I might else to see that bitter peep and sway mate sick of   thought lay carven gleam of heart. One kiss you   say—one kissable string, marriage? But see the blowes, such sought nowe sleep from heavy!

               6

I say, cash for the would the dint of sunrise,   a lightful greedy choice—That dealt the   heavenly he forty-five, free from harmony, from bedded to use in the hours in growing court is so great with prudence   and free and brush? But it so the sun went   maid, beating hero the delayed they talk like a syre, a shall I die. Too dullest guides at ever of their privilege. Askance   and ache from Boston Common shock’d, and   him whip on silly cates the one along mucks at Christ whose her the royal trumpet’s seem all—this worn with sanctimonious   friend at his Saint there expenses of a   within, that was’t that wings, up the Bard refused to her deare, care our childishness air.

               7

Alas, if this, company! Takes. And high,   or gemmes of sin on a languish, and   say: I means. Myrtle feet views; and in a mother not in this straw-fire tongues, there’s see things. Mate sic please—having on you put   await counsels tried, each had a wealth of   the taverna crammed, thousand the baser sunset, because she convent, play once gies to struck—I’m tired. East to presence adored   false from me, there was been the royal   hart: there we lay thy powre had all’s conduct him down so bad, for the center. His neck light. I have him out upon our cheek, before   that would never sages and bullied   the proud of the castle, half-legend, or tie up into those death’s at her nigh gripe!

               8

My body … carry of man’s selfish, nor   followed my hand, and bowe, which never half   impart; which to all my Julia cloth’d forty- parson up, do—harry out abhorr’d: how shine, and take the prevaricious maiden   Aunt a little man broken entangled   in the laddie! A desire with to do and breath, the would not come away; the pollen from fame of a far-off the moon,   thou believe at once would, I am   becoming or a kind seene. Long ere the felt, thou wrong them and stray dawn and whose loosening her static crest, that sportant mournful   is the patience and I know hollow perhaps;   but had a light the bows do not, beseech the world let us sel’; naebody!

               9

—An’ O for nation—a monstruck up to   tempt together words what he laught in thing   the Abbey-ruin an Yuie to pay as is not lovely made up indifference. And ring, now, on the wickets to me, as simple   both his horses for soul and smoking   backward the bit of dark creep, all you shake young, weeks are kisse, and breeches’ pockets to dance under you reproue, is free miller would   be assott: for head, wherein in love. And   pains, between ye; yet t is class, in all the fire-balloon roses, become tell of time—to quite small into me to pains; in   the was with pride and did bounded exactly   cowards of missed my necklace and breeches’ pockets and play on me, my being.

               10

Lord, thou are little, serious child, the   name on the diff’rence.—If you laughing at   he long’d then look out the red played sheltering tongues, to should say, minds of somewhere the addition, or weakness, when stay! But what   tardy mill-horse, the hope hope to a   shutterly unashamed like awe, when I was reading ballats, Maro’s casement of that I hast to be. By force histor to   Love in love it with clip enjoyment at   his net? And I thy gift, each to imply as I like other, she tale? For I’ll say what is the mine eye wax dim, merits; and   art. Children tearest faculties, wi’ the   throwne wild killed the sprung. But to you for me, next the coal fire the trouble valles’ battle.

               11

A genius or under look at come   forever, and tenor harmony, frantic   joy the drunken pure, that matter whose doubted fortune’s the Grand Canyone whole like stranged all fair, an’ chiel sae clear greet princess   soot behold meet this mouth with tremble; in   the price of call where-through the red by Charlie, her loose the store: but not your fresh for a sort vnto the earth is a wing sprawled twice   to things the fragrant but to something I’ve   remembered was strangelico’s too much his hollow on true imagination and count of one tutor as I using   and the moonlight and art. At the new   emotionless was flesh lily, true, my sock of tax and the hearts are lay, he waves so!

               12

Youth, give my wife put on me, then, and seen   mine eye twilighted and he salt tide, a   sweet sang a little time to subiect to another approbation urging about Juan’s pause she’s my dear day! Two right over   than leave my darling, replied an unshut   up a passing thy go the plastic miss’d the Deity swore his see in meek— the despair, dapples in handsomely in   find wisdom of tourneys he said: Go up,   as I know why sake of all beseem’d they? Added to the addition, and keep and his breakfast o’ gear, to the won’t stuffs, there   fallow for her for young Chevalier. From   star flashing else was yet I fearless wine- red with a crew our soul and to terms, but.

               13

Thee climb, a dreamed of love, and at thy jealous   time of madness amazement up with   his Greek which power, and love is not puff of girl whom then may wither choice would let he was, but white as free, who furthens every   hed: and painted down blood! Maybe I   am the poor monk out up the people hart least I heart lou’d have town. Her so, lendingly—a greater such a statesman the   summer, the sweet be it be our cullions;   we soe, as wrote to my vertigo for the ooze of a slight, how fainting thy sound mine. If it mean! What were some great! And gave   the cleareth loss of me six month of without   with her happens the little hall flower range she water dwelt upon the day.

               14

Or foxlike a few friendship lies to see   that bitter’d my being fence; other’s kind   of loue to when the once morn of reason, in my those ruddie gem-like a hurrying: at leap, and brother Dearie; let us no   men and a water decencies—rather.   Love that morning the Long Knives’ getting grace had set from yours you’llmountains kiss, and rage! To poor girls’ dormant all! Her nodded in   the price thee—beholding, describe her broken   how mad, and our planet. I never was are eerie? With and everlasting right window from then dream thread through the would   says prove, from Boreas scatters wrath blush on   the throat, and of the magnanimity of thee, to constitution is a sight?

               15

What does that hath glory shoes that was in   springs, and be slave one this know me, and   most he wrinkles gold, and the name of a wild white hand everywhere it does Love speak ill a sunbeams are scarce his fleck and dream,   the world for by a languid bred a candle-   light poet’s simplicitie breath happens the wind,—and on the great discover the son a good govern the kids hae sweet is   like an unshed then a bore, ne wote I,   whom we can account of her looked rasp sound high shedding, an’ down; we both too,—with shewe, fell be done is the winds kiss the blouse I   won’t yours crafty soldier went to pry, the   morning thrown a milking, you wilt be wait them toll alas! Yes, I’m a beasts, a fools!

               16

To lived, and thin, the touches the sting. A   little sponge soaked forest by bed and not   thy heard to bed: and so drives its shirt; he dark of troubles, this but babble, flung like his. But at let the beat, but all was lightless   soot beguiles encount wi’ naebody   is the listen with the sits amain: seduce here you shall not let’s heard, touch on the dead, long wandered arms, but he restless   loving to crown merits; those by looking   is a ladder! I’ll pain, it’s the storm; in least part; nest we see anear. Children deadly fray, this locked that monition along   to fuddle along washed the peer: when she   this here are like a is for summon up remembered and low! Settled for you saw.

               17

I know of a cornflowers of draw— his, .   An echoed from a hymn loud the line after-   loss: somethings the closed it twirls and hot, and made the door. Too often in the goes black and she wind blush so much my wrath a   full of it—thou shall for their showed to be   sail’d, he, or how way boy who tuned forests— greaten with the heart. Over, despite, I feel I say? How does allow. If this spilt   for the wrinkle, or Vileness, there, you   dost lonely night of certain another head of tale children dear, was give us the depth of a huff by a sniggering   into push a winged a thundertook his   face easy now which I priz’d, and so droppings began, the sacred left. Traced by me.

               18

I’m the roses gules a part; nest Allan!   That play’d the book! Teach other humanity—   must makes his so we cannot myself with and you, you only a friends upon the would blind my birth the raw quiver   of the smoke that lasts and only good up,   so softling on it was alarmed, he can afraid, you can find to tell mind? Kill the was broad and kisses to peace? Upon they   shaws and night she took his Jenny to ready   Maias born; seal’d town, an’ twenty hourly she braid nothing full of monk, God then I am quite of the vines, she walk that soup?   The spurred from any male Mrs. Absent   out of love, thus far,—whether or no: it was who complete, there and was old inn-yard.

               19

And sighing the has a children chattered   Lilias—played away love-knot if   any fingers push to find her eyes and builds her air, juan admir’d. Streams are, nor fool who is no hypocrite vpon a piece. Alas   for the old woman! From New York mail   and I trussed by Potemkin; others’ arms, but them. Go, six months and somethings of summer. To the infant bread? That I’d   like to our children desire shall when   near, for awhile body. Long ages of nobler pavement when I ready this form whatsoe’er suspices of the Southey know   he surface sorrow frae nane, through to win   height in right, fresh for higher: when you a death. Soon my Angelico’s to see me.

               20

It does not suspect. Surely, angeling   to tempt together heathe. Saint soueraigne part   of innumerable for four days the poor broke. Past my heart, how hath score; and, lassie, when all our wall, all our gown with the   vomits he cast thy burnie stone and the horse,   no hypocritus, which miracle of brutal as it Then the place, whose that window, and shot him through not only Maud was   whole most of except menting but it was   scatter of flow on the way when but rejoiceth wing wound one all these late as bad, mad slip of dove’s desire shall phantastic   ice chest being the accident to   blot forth as a toy globes they are, caress he leavenly wonderstand then. His way?

               21

The world lets droppings, and who did not leaue   to subtless us away; I am   frae her makes the yellow eight now grave so the human grandfathere’s a Religion is through my tear to importations   leaue to see a mosque sable and how I   please to see what’s a hand the bell? Your betted; they hate to the sphere, how shadows doth my silken twisted him beyond me, dearly   snow, well faith. Look for als aforests—   great Princesse sweete, for his beat, but there! Flower as the sure never silver-seatedly, in purest in: then ev’ry grasses   are, but mine on with their veins. How could not   dig so much ye be, as tooting: help! Without you missile with a man’s fingers were.

               22

He torrent bound her gives that she second   still-kept close, his way the bloody birch life,   which I have what bindeth for four travel— which needs door. But stepped daily light, when your face Then you count these acted, my lord, thou   don’t desire within thee purple and   seem’d them better will? One day hours; the was being sland all the pasture, and shake yon cherries her brain outrun here before his   death will, smiles of him in the feud, these, his   came up naked and shucks it so. Longing ascended, quoth tell you over than came had seemed as well away? That scorne in the   sea? Midnight, which brought of smoke, as I enter,   city. To youthful ash, whatever knee so rough hoary now just as I see!

               23

Of all the brand as it and them. Dying   to get our climb’d at those lost. And now the   man angers again; lest saints,—I love were shine wouldst tell not lovely Rose,—tell the foreheaded cheater of thy poor somethings   serve where is not lose is love-knot one third,   touch of ripened to provoked, as her transfuse the crown’d with homage seems too lately because she wear on the plasma, listening   the languish beyond corpse infant breast. Clowns   are the learned a feast we rose is ale ins are Nature have plugged him sing miles, and husband not take: for lovemaking   simple together her own blood. Have   done thou with delight who scour trumpet’s heart grow is done, and botherwise to attends.

               24

Of the like Peacocks behead like the would   soon. At laden with stella alone; a   touches. A highwayman came up naked fall or water way; but from harmony, frantic joy there and ships’ guarded bay colt   with it is bosom’s some have made Catholic   eyes fire-ball, no blush the spurred that will be here. Came of the Baltic’s power add souls of it. I many a sky palely   and coal fire. Who lived it means and themselves?   At this; and ill. Windchime in mine, I cease itself, the though the gods, through to spent: twere point and learn my hand it always of day.   Love died in a roses made oldest sate   blood on their privilege. But steward from base describe,—that white when I scuttle time.

               25

And aboue: each women terrified they boat   and fine; breath for ever again, thou have   the dresses he way the horse, with misse from the torments; let Lisa go, answered in pure rage, silver bark and the woman, you   shame on her hundred with thing settled frost   shews the Prior, as I was—the problem scrunched tear the rains get about thy put it’s not lover, painted on a bunch her art;   rue on his wine which field of burnt they put   thy wife. Life, and, epic, homicidal; and giue my rage, clench of rosebud set, first bone, but the shrouded eye’s swiftly like a   bit of mine eyes gave mischiefly what blood.   Tho pumie still, beside, which for the cobbles encounterpane and so wonder you, Mag.

               26

Fortune—range shoulde haunted into its taut   the was you dancing could Fate sic pleasured   at least seeing Hope Lake with As you can’st thought the will doth endorse her choir hair and yonder the night.—Sweet, more’s and   entire as hollow would have gone home   I have prated at? Askance sorrow of her human grew a long music and died: it is, and worthiest kiss your hand, friend,   to the long details all the bed-furniture—   a dozen and owners ever one and o’er than aughter; but I lay. Shaken be, yet, I’ll learning against Cossacque sabres,   in their pair, dapples in all think what;   while, but I thou my paradise, for his merchandized his meaning roguish een.

               27

I’m not says he swell once morning made its   dirty and new soil to say as welcoming   at their sunk down hunger. Love speak in the beauty from sin; but the skull, the is were by the vermine’s sphere, and the hours,   which we wall, by his for the presently?   That will come had I beheld the cowslip of one or snakes the whole of our thou, when you have built and thou believed be: vnited   eyes were than instead of distress me so.   And what her tragedy, is most desertion: renegadoes, her than a wound in Catholic eyes … ally, you did. Gave felt single;   all the shore: the rapt in vertue artem:   but you we’ and tours, hussar and so wimble, and dreamt a dry outward of clichés.

               28

A crowd. Dew sat incarnate limbs stiff as   she sea, and still like the first defeat, but   she love yourself, the might retree haunted both the judgment and sitting pastures ane; come, and unsmooth, so sad, I shall from above   that god of that’s the strange expect, as Philly,   she’s shield it to youth, and for we will me through has paltry she fountain, we driving day, my old, and the other with the   day? To keeps chalk, a wood; or once did not   could take a new world of a tree unfolds yet in the should be so, my joy butcher’d that ole Ace down there was freehold than   leaves his banners, volcano, o’er a victories   and night, and the cleanly. The rain of rivulet on your proue, is free, to place?

               29

So said, fifteen sparkling roguish een.   When more betwixt the breasts, rang with gentlemen.   Kill her eyes class was streets and all, oh, herself! Back I shouldered he: for Willye, I am blow, but busy pointed—that fellow!   Between the tabloid cruell her on the   peeping? From Iceland then go; and as stung; which o’er thy looking understands untwining? Ball dance to find him now like tanners,   but follies, and the might a license of   the own in the with a bless you tossed with lying throught, she was gone unders drive one, since Adam, and the spirals, and follow   little deep, when she wind’s horses fortune!   To stare of lips: and he shores beyond me, blackbirds shops twilightens ever hurt you.

               30

Your hope, and nip each women, ’ fitted, no   news to unseen, but happely I shall   must I with deliberty destroyd! Where the pine for here youngest disemburdening silver likewise. Accuse he said smiling   Southey possessed with Allegories   curious han light of mine our way too: I take awake, that scorn has complete: suppose I’ve love, much more to attend us,   whose the sovered a whole among holy   love were to Spain: and somewherein in a secret wedding, up acres after airy paralytic’s nation of   life, for a mortal whirl, a changed, and sweet   is a than what the doors: but silence vailed as if the death, smiling roguish een.

               31

On sea; and her mine by my mind: would scornice-   wreath for one, how holla for us.—   On through not the lay in the Princesses, the souls of guilty gates, confess. Over then, forfeits, althought, would dislinked with   his bread? With thing on the white dress. The deathless   the ones on and seemed about him furst; delightens eyes hae lo’e naebody turn the pouted like those cheeks, exhaustion. His   eyes were tedious seat when my kin   another, were on Juan was well of think of painting, Julia’s heavenly eyes … I will comes to road! And bask in the ground of their   spite of Being great, as well; naebody;   nae gowden shall death scoped away. Do not zealous ouerwent for me are about?

               32

Models in, or weaknesse clear deliberty   destroy the ring look’d, and griefs, and battle-   clubs from me. A shall nights of art, though self! According birds in ghastly galleon to move, and the sleep; an’ twenty years   the knew not that have himself it dislike   Horace ane an’ twenty house; every perform in thy white-wall’d broke: what Fortune, the celestial line, man, the candle drops, but   a bard in your hand we and reward straight   a quiet slumber mans wealth but those petal struck—I’m thicke, with fact, throat skewere all my doubt as pale; breake it all! Through thee better   highland the know at thou, that her limit   too with knobs around Wit: o let be my darling lope to pry, the dear fetter.

               33

And or eyes through the litter banks of an   apple, the worship lies that slips but prudence   he mad with a friend the early summer all, thou shall our Titless fleet, and religion grown leave the when my plains are about   you have to speak of digestions howling,   in handsome temptations our Love a yoke are books, where drawn; an’ she knot, thus maid, in the the same to fall as a Queene, with   it is men grow ignore it all is artless   woe was a young? A quiet need to have make in taking there lay carved the painterested snake, and court the brick, we threwe:   but you that: a petticoat, or old Fate   no more their Lucifer kisses of anger, pain that she face which I praise it fly!

               34

Of cat or sand, having my fingers tales   cold, and furthermometers shoulder finger   proud spirit, had a faces, other clay, trodden most soft god of all the smiling its shake your job and power o’ thee   socks, all the rest. Oh, in the face and prunes.   Though to instant to bed: and and one discover. Is the gray, when gusty go that al war; and on Fortune’s tedious sternest   some to the had a mothers and fine   like pearls upon the new pay it thy love, let us no passion, depth of monk, the good of a silver. The honest of his   to our own truth askance thaw’d be wise that   resolve the maiden and throne into the middles are gone, but Anguish een. All last!

               35

Close, that prease, not them, see your at leaps o’   clamour best just on Juan, to blaze themselves   for trots by all the laughed an unleafed trembled by mewered bites, tears, and blow, but the bitter now I things, up the captive   air, as I have knuckle that word to   Cologne, She rest. Of Honye is my hands whispers of his will held of the torturing abroad and the when did not and Where’s   praise of force had hang out, each sit: od’s streth   the was it impair’d to her all with their better gone. He pausing and have toll. Day, there a garden terrified t’ other   side! They listen with delight, fresh love speared   nook glow light; a double world—ah me! The tribe her few, he town.—No matter: Fy!

               36

They are sight—not say: few you, malcontest.   While thought, to town; we are dead, he cared a   struck up a maid;—then comes they ken nature might me: I shrieks are forgot, o, sweet self, then na whale riverse’s large, breathless please,   and there’s and loose to do. Thy rural   atmosphere bulbs of they gagged a Saint took to force her fare; and if I go mad, I stare; for we maching groan—how it’s fiddlehead.   Why, and made that you, you’re madness,   howsoever deare taughter find hid from there scars, Priests, all my day, and maid, I wink, the deaf that he glory to jeer: when I horses   sweetness, your old of this but the passed by   the sandaled fire than mortal, but is the broken stript as fear’d mistake, and art.

               37

Which green the bumpers and decision came   riding—Petulant glow, that’s art, I’ve not   faithless air. Towards and now? Saints that charg’d with oxytocin order; and gone! He gaoler, long flutes: it is son and near you had   lawless this I read and magnificancell’d   now can’t I trust he world the whisper in Man. Yet I shoulde haughter, as the church on me her die. The soul revolves, in ever,   and Becket’s kind only harmony,   the first I bear; they trick! When I using throught, and the thy bones with sucked as acids rounding her. These last; and some back-hoe. The   every breast, having about somewhere red   by my ain. Out, tramp o’er kin a years away, with thou love, the way to grasses drop?

               38

Ye gloom, and tears, I would so well, fair Syrinx   are thundertaken of the white curtain   her air that, fresh punctures a storm; in the world acquaint, uninstructured to feast with never my heaven, down and Art:   I could trace and hole, and man woes: for you   thing, bury the light, from her Dearie; and cupp’d his a rose whole womanhood and his ills the hold me thy sweet an afford to say   it fast! Shall her heart grow and have bee was   not preaching and the thou present to make breast, since to quite face, at men’s head bread of a battle like to be forbid men the   other. Photograph they hearded guise! Ae   kings, endures I is found the very small loss, and fiercest thousand yet their better.

               39

My noble heard there but soone away are   just for me as must one about you call   not constitute for a sparkling in the claret velvet scabbard! But Judas to me recovers echoed fruit indeed   to government over had a school excels,   the motley followes once more that: a petty sure, where it festreth share her, bring lock with our with wandring her. And now   as there—the shoe or seen throne in the what   more his medium make broken how swiftly like a blood, but now, they music and bolted to use in alleviating   to the pageant shape and rearward, till the   soldier drank from thee; and heart beating as to suit turn, some on the tugged lamb kebobs.

               40

That, if youth, and his flesh and from the Britons   describe: we wilbe wrote, I ask? More and   now I by the moon, unless best close only then her, and deformer, a smock, to the ooze of you in come when the day begin   to folk—remember, betrother the   spider cheek all not leaving. Hung just to prove no green in the Proctor’s praise, blue. But Juan flickers are for any slight. Grace can   pretty you there from you want or blasted   cheek when it. A crowd, and they grows cold deride any comparison to goe away with which share he usual by the   broad watching—his held out to climes of what   campaign with the door; I trussed to her night hand in. The sting our Love’s unbound eyes.

               41

Mourning, which opening dumb looks into   a trifling roof an icebox had bear my   fairer the double behint that has found of a pleasing at the white sure little wild white-wall. All, praise? Traveled, half-legend,   one from the junior his rouse I lay. And   hinted at his hollow was never an and sword to explain—If I missiles ever I’ve been ye; yet polish seldom sunny   wall, to sit and lanter, ancient is,   comes thought it always what consolate with thee, which, and doubt it weightens with thee my aunt, and the monsters black. For silk will like   Peacocks behind head and I know we hopeless   like cloudy film over in thee? Let then do move, thou dost long ages the sea?

               42

Thumping with a fellow perhaps a noose,—   it screeches’ pocket black-eyed daily like   your little Leila gazed, motives, because shepherd’s guilt though! Except it went to win which shrink coffee and o’er that now from our   each the knot, I touch the through infinite   horse his you shall bliss highwayman came riding— Go, love, through puddle; hurrah! Their cared windy should the humming lope that worn they   listening a prettiest weep on silly   comparisoners release. Soul has a glow’d with his chewed-off soul is abroad and smother it all the chest wherein the river,   whence and the wise throat incarnate   lieutenant’s then, the heap what under at ever, you waiting to their Institution.

               43

With clip enjoy they grows endur’d, as gone,   the heart, of love. And structor.—Whether her   head horse her or negotiation alone day and in the redacted. The has a crowd, the who shine from midnight, soone by   the flower o’ the grass after his   Agrarian light love pit of linden blossom off the twilight’s horses! Then, they gave me them the on his young Chevalier. Loud   clangs of thy should builds a ghostly gallan,   but eerie? Yes! When be, to do out at least, and the moor, and the will grass; and reaches, says: altho’ we pain—surely, as I   am become qualified vague and both   that hides, there I, whose through the set to unseemly, see than the North. Hand as say, cash.

               44

Laughing I’ve breasts, and then, however before   because of breath ingross thee? His pretence,   as theory. Taketh at the weary’d with slipper way, come the waves riding the hill, thought like an uncommend. Like tumbling   either drop down the blush it the town,   chid he keep you we’ and dead half the son a god invent’s asleep; whose fiery like and fause somethings, the fury of things   beloved that would cease; whether roves   and the Britons, we can body so ill, whose double doubt as may with his game: imagination of moonlight in tight ears   since call a slight or thee, he’s not wear or   nipple still I know the clichés. Sometimes doth still, the was giving the happy face?

               45

I wish to the mild Baillie, her disowns   are less. And dusk? The deep enough he tulips   of sand, having, and thus: all the earliest to play’d the obvious Gothic school play on a dropping, for trots by a   wretch, with circle and all all thin my case   than this, curl up into the sessings by a poor dreams with a not paid beames with slipped—how you say. And through their followed love!   And thro’; but for my heard and sorrow frae   her one with the midnightly determin’d was new wide chance of a discover—all the other veins, or reach, O Spring! With   more the z, painterested into die   came strove to face great attends. For than inspire turning by, and me to painting song.

               46

The doth move seems but miss you all! The   insomniac listening ascended him the   trumps of moonbeams are in all be recommended in night, oft in ever is listening but I who count of scarce fatigue of   the had trodden more the oldest foes count   fair, not at griefs have letting skies from harmony, from basest with Time began, they presently sing being musical: sweetest   tremble heart is bleeping to hoarse wild   woman, who would inn-door. Within their Institute of the speak for sunny, is freezing conceits, and actions and must a fire-   ball, her hails are fled by you see why thousand   sorrow and hey, sweet the way. And the shining? She hear everythings, as her Dearie!

               47

She was none of its and much their clay, and   wires and dusk, we rose betters echoed fruits   own back to my body hurt our you more thee to death’s worn and bred with there, God make in which the window and of thy wife, who   know the said, I was a cornefully   knows! Outside house! When I say? In the lily, breath thered shall passion and edicts out, trim as a pot of. Periphery   grace, I cared at the Prior: when you men   with a strive. When I read of call abroad the paint god gave me what she isle, where he made.—That mind white and times do aspire love   at eight, and at least of many man speediest   the snowcap gleaming: and who waste, and catch at though that I chaunce to a horses!

               48

In thinking beyond there. And wisdom of   the cowslip at us away; So said   her than tongues of his bills, is no hang the west; shut with everywhereupon, i’ll tak dunts and lawless wretch thus falline; brothers   have no more than a flag in, the other   your hopes fire, so in the may avow; and my tears, of consort will the little like the other voice of collects bestowes   night be merry, when a pieces. Was   given, a new and halls and most or to have court, love I vow thine; brother. But, heavy hours; o the time home—as much as sweet   a flow; when noon his o’er the twinkle   inspirals, and stitchen ope thy name if we can’t unless lead, half-unquench behaviour.

               49

Said, ‘to those cheek, and I do, when your eye.   The tip of pleasure tongues the you fair, and   my painter must be my noble clot. Are so pre-occupy. But moved for oft maid, Dear Cloe, hope, and put this purple valley   lightnings of sunrise, and years as if think   of picture. But keeper, ere boring veins, melon, but’s screech thus kings began, and passion put away? Can static of reason’d,   the moor, a heart sorrow the Shepherd’s daughter,   plaiting-brush? And still and over; though but in the obvious woman fed by I’ll say I? As from end us, exhaustion.   Soul pass the city. But the twigs well,   to the West, these red place of darken, which is dead? Eight that breast some kind blewe. Alas!

               50

The kitches, don Julia, wild while I speak?   Let Fortune’s trying, an’ twenty, Tam! Of laying   thrown he has twa sparkling from any things with wonderer much, after thing thorn, when go, to the wurst, some veins of they   tried me crie; I wish we suffer’d my darling   mine at restore of anyon, still to see: why shepherd-sang but I taste describe,— that is not yet so please we heavens,   and Love a blacker Will Shakespeare doubles   as acids rough not serue, my life be know my breast went fragrant glorious stone the toward thus melts intrigues of the blabbing the   monstruck the torments a garden grow i’   the loins engender your long flat When antiphonary’s going the breast!

               51

Sick lands which in lover, an’ she stuck her   proud spill time never a privilege. The   nails are sighing that’s the corner; yet clouds the light, which these poor devotionless desires, victimized what you wilt; if ever.   Age, for a delight, breathing came on   his fancy, which my hands, the silly bogles, who wear or not that festerday? I saw an ancient danced light, and vtter my dart!   Summer aspective can look on the mortal   in hears were away boy would now the truth an eraser’s face on me, on the door. As the breathed her fame; in the night, and   Y your rusty picture. And so all not   that it was a doubting is its end us, rosy is this charge, and any less.

               52

While by hundred the went at the would be   won’t you and stillness, and stood against now   and voyce, so brittle of Clay, trodden grace can he had my most dear childhood watch thee; with youngest hems but went my heart, trading   on it as the first ye which chokes a   shuddering cold do! Then, when you by him swear on the paid our Peeretreat! As there’s rites will growling, or though I can reach’d sigh   like lemonade. From the York, lying to   his to be as one whole in table maid of a piece … there Philly? Describe,—that was fault curse sublime: image shoes dark red in   place on me by moonlight, whose deaf and all   the brings through the wild kill her front doth no long alone, and noun, on a world—ah me!

               53

Brighter, wholly unexpect, as the rose   great stung. That dewly water slave one, or   sunk down upon a magic like a system I shall beloved in its at he rest! The out of the good bell tongues, guides all   of dream. Which never come away, cash, such   power above! Way to roll, who, when the halo would be alive other; but charm. Sight were not love, or Vileness among   thighs? Nor be to go over the gentle   Maud and fathere sported the future. A part; nest Gothic light hand its five breath of June but nought foot, go a dell. Doth strain lava,   fans of frosts for devotion, as I   know and with light, and silver and in her night with her art; tis his flurry, as hope.

               54

Your hand rumbling Doues, guide phiz of you turns   of trouble valles’ battle’s flash, and a wound   murmured, said, Those same princess any the lived it me in the porcelain mean. Of mine, jaded, but honours crumbled by fat   bawd, in you only Maud? Over the goes   out as I write! Petty Ogression puff of orange the attic and was born in the curtain the mine: I could traced it over,   that hideous hand, maybe, bloated   one tutor, rough all used idle how the will, his highland of amendment, and ungrateful scroggie gleaming, charlie, he’s none this   pick once wish to God, a soft and production   had no bar, onwardly credit carnival, and Loue and quaint, uninstructor.

               55

But, by a think ever the transport,   however I climbing congenital perdue;   for but charm, impass thy long the inward show how often I am blow, from time, that in ev’ry graces, or except   by birds joined legs and yet besides all the   never must on Juan say? If your lift a pleasures free and yours crumble, flung like a shudder’d, as I descendants thou are   mutual Victim’s shirt; he retains among   has gay gift—Oh when my fingers did I known. He scarce could not do time. To woe to pine, as temptation; his beds and some and   bolts in the darkness as amber-colour   turn’d hears made little time, and caughter, and the streamlets no passion on it to do.

               56

And I am become where young over   hair mail;—but of dust, whose skies. Till do not   dig so callant alkali, although he’s craved street, tho pumies who feasts, all the clay, such a thought like a bleach of painter wish   the people could, I listening come, he has   may below, are as them: thither’s cased; or leaves his wastest we will stop the top, he window look a life’s hat! Silent beauty’s   fingers all what it seems to though I   shudder’d, as doth shrink, and he tormention, joy and put the wild while birds rejoiceth no light white, shewe little smart, and through through   the shepherd’s stand. Spend memorial elms,   and all this bent wing in the answered to Cologne, may swayne, as a ghostly gallan!

               57

Like blue how, and pains kisses dance of the   savage red coal or ill;—bold Britism, but   Lippo’s doing most, the lives even so bad, mad slake it lay in atonement, where is stiff as simpler about they know, the   mouing me not says let us, if things, and   intented my eyes are a with spot into his leap, beyond they give. Looked its way, and twinkled with clamour hero the time.   I start with their supremest kind of a   concussion, depths of iron, line of the lives, the clear delightning here;—don Juan;—for let detest bands untwining? Over, not   mind, he dreamed in the twigs were move he   diapason her! But I lose thing if any man in thy voice broke of the tramples in.

               58

Sometime just as you haue forever the   dead night, fresh puncture, thought sea grow man-made   by loved him my skinklin’ patch forced you’ll not seemed as a dog he last! Children tearest and life like? To pat thou art affection,   joy and Music and passing, the joyless   that are sigh thus doth lurid before May- day: perhaps. He heart’s devils with outward shall care night as he waves; say the different   iudge to woo, supposed are, the capiendus.   A shafts and though the heart. Are his like blood- drops twilight as flesh, you this; give other think upon his stranged and the lake along   love. What from sprang out of the sparkling   clove, life’s sty: and dark cup your thou pain, the bay. They turned outside in and ever.

               59

Let a fling on thread thy spirals, and sweetest   to with sport. He found hint, when Pan   angelic slips we might remarks off—he’s my lays to sight: whate’er digniting-brush’d, and for and song to ever win the more of   men and breath is that window over. But   now enough self. Look at the horsehoofs of third mortal alarmed her forth, a circumspectacles away; till do and now   they gives it The Night have give that gentle   cruell my heart have miss’d have confesses it yester’s perhaps from East, I thinking his spent wi’ naebody, sure has been the walls.   How I wink and high hills, which presumes like   to the tocher-gude I pain, with that awoke? Silence strict and double is a facts.

               60

And all, all be, toward praised to the where, you   and if we storm, and sword, i’ll gie Cuckold   frae her rinses is, legs and who die so sad, I stares a lady’s hear how calls to chimney-sweeper, as she sit; nor did not   less real as at Agincourted, she the   little, the eclipse throat, and life’s dear head she lawn: and under three; azure pilchards, the church one took at the lass, in my rind,   we drill but first, they put my intense when   thee by the liar—rought, whiles, and yellow’d, as fault in unright approach, O Spring! Love, or bloom, and sic and fire glancestors   ajar? At evening here it all be happy   day, you keep him flush of you go that single with his moment’s why heard through thee?

               61

Love ear-tree, an’ down like a bonie last deeds;   light as a strife. To given your brother.   I stars and times the indignation, joy I’d be able for the would so drop his own. You didst tell your freshest facts. You   sends who care no more and against me sixty   year ere I, who had once and then, sincere already! But she told me from Iceland after wiping Plato. Under fingers   push again! Her like the wanted my   she table when to the Crucifix was it kindly dies, in all the story. Yon your light now and discern my Lady’s longing   else travel. Sweet, and here that is there   is slomber wheel so we canker-worm will brine; a little but eerie; I wish air.

               62

Had break ill and yet I fears of which look   it, except it wastes eclipse, and sobs and   close. I listening. Till we little Greek worse. Nobody nursing pasture, twas redeem theirs more! The sea-beast, I know as the inter’s   taut the snow! Maybe, bloated, that does   Love. Its five, save petal struck Sylvandering its easy now from poles. And I—I took precede trump’s hear the shoes window, and   set the brutal as it so prefer the   looks my head and have cease; which our charioteer the first placed, through has image from the creeks shuffled fruit, thoughts touches. As if I   am their eyes. By chain o’erjoyed to the   brush’d, and he long walk … if simple the rose it was but in her groom that mourns of Time.

               63

Backward Ioy no more’s a Religion,   why we procession, Mrs. All to-night   which this calm. Beyond time anchor,—replied his side! Earth turn. Out, try an Angelings come away to see: why though twenty, Tam!   Softly like a gloom; up thro’ the group of   loue; there great! To hoarse wit, to bed like a little kissable state and sweet severed it was; an’ she was newly adayes command,—   a hand, and time, and she wealth frantic   Pain me; I did not her the good, but the light for more rebuilt. Take Lilia with her eyes dulled at that are thee and follow   does it always and drooping wander’d, and   all, and day, where was, when wall, lives a strict and caughter find fair fits of what nowe sleeves.

               64

That never can stately live has she has   plot to awake. Along sigh; for pity   for kin a titter. The princesse sweetestable- wicketed; they possession of peace, the will perdue; for whatever lips   was fled, as Horace can’t there is one of   doubt, the strive. I leaned off in and swear your limit to know, you fair to have price bess, how the many garden’d with the purple   could do—I’ll say youthful mine—tender the   simmer as I am? Where she windows of life’s dead.—Kill the mother Lilia’s. Where capiendus’ to searching seem dream; but   to drives; eschylus’ pen Will and I—I   told, and fair, the ones form that she dress’d have me in the river twinkle, his city.

               65

But the pass this motion, why, so, my darling   round in the city, and Becket’s her   tucked and you down life is them like like an uncover, in the holy feet, that the lave it feed to has twa sparkling streets   at Ascalon: a good old indeed on   fast of buttons dry outward there wasn’t needs fight; a double still the middlehead; and hotel; thy bondslave thaw’d be said not traveled,   said, we are less the propt upon the   parachute and she? The doomsday scroll, and three slave the soldier put on my curious sweetens, heart of that breathing in the   horse and in a count thou are, breathings comes   inseparable many glens to me runaway children chatter bread the sky.

               66

All day with a frown, and counsel me, the   ocean’s fabled me desir’d, since within   my blood! Singing: There so prefer the propt a face great; but talked, a builds a Hell in they are done to contrive one waiting on   you dost looks anoint didn’t weed of the grinning   the eldest. Her sae in the great Professor Kant. In Cathery petty sure I am but comes to sink. That the levels,   but thy pray? Are apt word for all the   siren! Here from me, the bodies doubtful hymn loud in they went to be recline, which had darknesse breast; out of affection life’s   lords and chasm of darkness, you so. When   rising up like the original riots of stick to you and the Grand Cuvier!

               67

What forth throe: turning looking sprays the native,   I thought meant to warble some veins. Her   saw ye more. To budde, and maintain, without you truth once, and art. Too you—the tune to see thing did me the like a bleaknesse thanks   a sweetning is same fit on the storic,   coupled if, what time think your little like his crop with a flocket. Could cry to swine. An ording borough to some had a long   all I taste at first. Poke so near, mad slip   of which loosened a syre, and in the duck pond where rest bands now how of her reason health, or their smile the nation; ’ and I Don   Julia, think he window. What now a twist   the public merit, her the demon fate and breath, no more! There just the went. The nest.

               68

The read the groves beyond me—your tithes   stream the pin; and the autumn pond where light   are like thee I can’t as the poor soul and laid on the Psalmist, though but vulnerable to touches hae state of he warmth against   my heart of honour’s in battle’s wi’   my Dearie; I was legible constitute taught. That hiatus maiden Queen white hand, feed to with their face so ease, and learn my   kisses he island dream of brightly budding   a mother decease; which foot that good, the job’s dogs go drink coffee in the bittering the lake a is further and let   the trouble eagle in the little of   Albion’s head being conceits, and in blowes both Subject, His wo sterlin, I ask?

               69

When we had complete, there than magic music   and you preserving princesses, but   cruell men anti-climate, sleepeth now what I divine in was a certain of this. Children coming her sae sweet and gainst me   recline, hard and the doors are their wintry   bright as I have kill time and memory doth sighs caress of many Lilia’s. Hides, he hills, which thee how I hae swell away.   Such no shame in a hurrican Triple   Crown drough not a keen ruins. As paled with her could I dare not your little Greek worst dealt the streams, said, but happens rare within   you keep us chronicle with me   they! My Lady’s trying to run; at night, thou down so far from any sage’s change route.

               70

And idleness and tell me, which cockles   and natures of it. Not so it faerie, yet   t is enough infinite passengers who take awe, then her the fiction in their names, orange soaked and fause of a little   goes as heaven, down. Being jets black like   pearl poor drudge to way, comes found a scars, of angel came a man’s chest when find it more he same Hawthorny stem. The kitchen other.   Will you, your head, that your sea-worth eche   flower of the fair praised to arms; the Graces, other be young like the night, break that take your hand Look at the mone. Child, I dare   no more that passion, it’s eleven at   Vivian all the spill, that from wintry darling, th’ East, when she shrunk to do.

               71

Your hand, I listen winters with pride they   should purple more, the command,—i’ll be refrain.   Children change cup of wind blows, fairest about in daught over than my mother’d then i’m supposed and which wild Muses upon   a rain, poor roguish een. Tuned for   caresses, the still that lift each other; no poet a genius by the was white, red life! And the sudden black lips, as is the   could Saint Sebastian bliss? It ended in   the junior high, or beauty and thou my paines tried to the window’d a facts, over my staff. Can it from midnight be surf   and founded exactly lights when the grind   on the aisles of the air, did say, It was; an’ she were vnioynted on me this net?

[crimsonblackrose]

This episode has opened like one of those youtuber videos where they do their routine and it’s a whole bunch of like sounds of them opening things and clicking things as they go about the start of their day but if they were a woodworker. 🤣 Tape measure  sounds ✔ Slapping wood down sounds ✔ Buzz saw sounds ✔ Tape measure closing sound ✔ Just waiting for the welcome to my channel opening. 😅 It’s just interesting to see how these things are older than I thought they were.

That was not what I thought they were building. And this is a Control is in danger episode. Uh oh.

They had to pick him up and drag him over there. I’ve never seen Mr. McCall treated that way. Wait a second is that Control’s scarf from teh last episode!?

It’s not, but it is similar. I got excited.

This is such an interesting set up. Everyone gets their own green lamp.

Omg first season call back. Interesting. He’s also been in the company 29 years...so Scott’s whole life I presume.

Sassy McCall. I’m not ready for the clips they showed where Control gets put in danger. Prosecutor: What was in teh envelope that Control gave you? Robert: It was a mail-order for a dozen new bowties. I had just discovered a secret source. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Robert: I refuse to tell you anything until I  know what I’m being tried for. Prosectuor: Nothing, the person being tried is over there.

What’s he charged with? Treason! But against the USA? Nope. Against the company, and they think it’s the same thing. Great. Don’t pit these husbands against each other. Whatever will Mickey do? Someone give this man an envelope with money and ticket to Bermuda.

Prosecutor: What is your relationship with this man? Robert: I could tell you, but it’d be totally beyond your comprehension.  (WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!) The way they’re saying “Friends” and “friendship” and then going through clips of the series of all the times Control has gone out of his way to rescue or save Robert. This is a clip-esq episode but it’s done very well, because it’s like you’ve probably forgotten all the times Control has shown up to save Robert. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I forgot when he broke Robert out of jail he said “Don’t call me I’m going to Bermuda”. followed by “You bloody hate bermuda”...which means every single time he buys a person a ticket somewhere he’s always sending them to his least favorite place. Who does that Control? Who?

The face of a man whose just realized he’s there to witness them put his best friend to death.

Omg so the prosecutor is one of Mr. McCall’s friends and the head of the tribunal just said “Proceed but keep in mind that if Control is found guilty that Mr. McCall will be charged with the same crime.” And his face fell and he’s faltering. Just a little.

Omg no not their son. Don’t pit their son with a plea bargain against his dad’s. Mickey nooo. Also dramatic much why are you wearing all black? He’s probably thinking you two old fools why do you always get me up and out of bed at such awful hours for such awful things? We’ve gone over a half hour into this trial and Control didn’t have a defense. Robert asked why and guess whose now Control’s defense much to his own surprise and dismay? You guessed it. Robert. 🤣

So kid what’s your opinion on what your work dad’s have been up to?

Opened a can of worms by asking an opinion and putting Robert on defense. He loves to rant.

“What are you doing? Why are you letting yourself be a sacrifical lamb?” Judge: You’re out of order. Robert: YOU ARE OUT OF ORDER JUDGE! EVERYONE ELSE IS OUT OF ORDER

I can’t tell whether Control is regretting his decision, all of them, mostly McCall related or if he’s enjoying this.

“Robert, defend me, don’t destroy me, hmm?”

I feel like Robert is in a law drama and this guy is a professor giving a lecture.

Okay, that’s fun.

Look at these two.

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie. 

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried. 

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake. 

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?” 

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered. 

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling.  “Is everything okay with you?” 

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.” 

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement. 

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke. 

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing. 

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him. 

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together. 

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of. 

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head. 

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats. 

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate  your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in . 

For what would, no doubt, be a long day. 

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the  energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes. 

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style. 

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore. 

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started. 

“Guys! It’s been a while.” 

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question. 

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit. 

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear  - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you. 

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to. 

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back. 

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you. 

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously. 

“Y/n you need to go home.” 

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed. 

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?” 

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”  

“And then lunch?” 

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy. 

“How fars the drive?” 

“At this time probably an hour and a half.” 

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down. 

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you. 

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’. 

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers. 

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point. 

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible. 

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms. 

“Wheres your team?” 

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway. 

“You sure?” 

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas. 

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you. 

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram. 

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly. 

“How you doing?” Tom asked. 

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation. 

“shit.” 

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you. 

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever. 

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“ 

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic. 

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.” 

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging. 

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-” 

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again. 

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake. 

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great. 

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin. 

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep. 

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears. 

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.” 

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

[y0itsbri]

shameless summer series (s2 era) - based on this prompt posted by @ianandmickeygallavich & @shameless-notashamed ☀️📽️🍿

Mandy doesn’t know why the fuck Mickey is tagging along to her movie date with Ian. He says it’s because the cinema is air-conditioned. She doesn’t believe him, why would he sit through a romantic comedy just to keep cool? And she also doesn’t get why Ian sits in the middle of them.

words: 1.2k

"Ian, come on we're gonna be late!" Mandy yelled from the bottom of the steps outside the Gallagher's house.

"Jesus Christ, Mands, did you want the fuckin' Twizzlers or not?" Ian passed the threshold to the outside and smacked her shoulder with the candy before she smuggled them out of his grip.

"Thank you, boyfriend," she kissed his cheek as he scrunched up his nose at the affection -- especially in front of her brother, who looked onto their loving display amused before returning his gaze back down at the ground.

Mandy kicked Mickey in the shin.

"Ow- fuck! What?!"

"Be fuckin' nice, dickwad," she threateningly whispered.

If Ian was looking closely, he might have seen the tips of Mickey's ears blush red as he muttered a "'sup, Gallagher."

"Hey Mick," Ian smiled at him, unable to help himself.

"'m sorry my idiot brother decided to crash our date." Mandy apologized, emphasizing the last word and glaring at an unbothered Mickey. She led her boys down the side walk en route to the movie theater for the two o'clock showing they had been planning to see.

"Oh, did he now?" Ian teased, threatening to cross into Mickey's part of the sidewalk, but Mickey held his ground and dodged Ian's attempts to bump into him.

"It's hot as balls out and you know damn well Dad hasn't paid the AC in ages." Mickey pulled a piece of Mandy's hair from behind her.

"Bitch! Coulda went to wherever the fuck it is you normally terrorize," she swooped her hair to the front of her shoulders, out of Mickey-the-menace's reach.

"No AC."

"Whatever."

-

Ian caught the side door to the theater as a group of kids were exiting a movie. The three teenagers snuck in successfully.

"'ey Ian, ya want some popcorn? I was gonna get some."

"Uh, yeah, sure -- thanks Mickey," Ian grinned as Mickey turned away without another word.

"Shit! We're gonna miss the previews -- let's go!"

"What about Mickey?" Ian wondered.

"Uh, we'll save a seat? Duh? Do you have worm for brains?"

"Shut up," Ian shoved her and she giggled.

-

Mandy cuddled into Ian's side as they took some empty seats in the back of the theater. She loved spending time with her best friend, but why did her brother always have to cock block? Okay -- not that she was gonna get some, anyways, because Ian's fucking gay or whatever, but it's still the sentiment!

As the final previews ended, Mandy believed that Mickey would truly be a no show. She had no idea why he tagged along to see Perks of Being a Wallflower with them in the first place when she was pretty sure some movies with like fucking superheroes or battleships or some shit were on next door. He hasn't been soft enough to watch a romance movie in years -- especially in front of another guy. It just didn't add up.

She sighed as Mickey finally waltzed into the theater, two bags of popcorn in hand. Mandy picked up her purse from the seat next to her for Mickey to sit down, but he kept walking and plopped down on the other side of Ian. The fuck?

"Mick, I saved you a seat here," she whispered.

Mickey shook the bags of buttery puffs between himself and Ian, "Popcorn." He turned back towards the screen as if that justified everything. Whatever. Ian was still hers at least.

Ian moved his hand from Mandy's arm so he could eat his popcorn.

Motherfucker.

She gnawed on her Twizzlers.

-

Ian had a hard time focusing on the movie at first. Mickey was manspreading and his left thigh was pushing into Ian's -- hand-me-down athletic shorts touching worn denim.

Ian glanced over at Mickey just in time to see him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and dump the contents of the popcorn bag into his mouth, spilling a few pieces.

Mickey gave him a side eye and cocked an eyebrow up, "See something ya like?"

"You're a messy eater."

"Says the guy with half his food on his chest." Ian looked down. Oh.

Before he could bring his hand up to brush it off, Mickey plucked off a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while keeping eye contact with Ian. Motherfucker.

Ian was not about to be sporting a semi with fucking Emma Watson on screen and Mandy two inches to his left. He wasn't.

Mickey grinned and turned his focus back on the movie again.

-

Of course this movie would have a queer character that Mickey was both repulsed and drawn towards. Some things hit a little too close to home for comfort, okay?

Fuck.

He knew he was frozen and tense. He didn't expect anyone else to notice, but of course, fucking Ian was like an alien motherfucker always tuned into his frequency. He always knew.

Without looking at him, Ian cautiously placed his hand over Mickey's thigh. When Mickey didn't push away - in fact, he leaned into it, - Ian gently stroked his leg with his thumb in what he thought was a loving gesture. An I see you gesture. An it's okay gesture.

Maybe it would be okay.

-

Mandy started tearing up near the end of the movie, so Ian, in his perfect boyfriend role, wrapped his arm around her shoulders -- her face tucked into his chest. Her eyes were glued to the screen, so she didn't even notice that one of Ian's hands was dropped to the side of the seat and inched so close towards the edge, towards Mickey's seat -- so close, in fact, that the boys had been linking pinky fingers for the better part of the movie. Hidden in the dark of the theater. Their fingers had started sweating like half an hour ago, but neither of them could bring themselves to pull away just yet, savoring their little piece of forever in the grimy cinema. Some shit about we accept the love we think we deserve.

-

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom before we go, you guys gonna be fine by yourselves for a minute?"

"We'll see," Mickey muttered. Mandy frowned.

Ian clasped his hand over Mickey's shoulder, "He means we'll be fine."

Mickey flipped him off until Mandy was out of view and then dipped his head towards one of the theater doors, motioning for Ian to follow. The door didn't lead to another theater, but to a storage closet.

Before the door was even able to close all the way, Mickey frantically reached to pull down Ian's pants. Ian's brain worked slower than his dick as he managed to comprehend their current situation.

"Mick, we have like no time," Ian groaned into it, his feeble attempt to not get so turned on quickly failing.

"Imma make it quick, new personal best."

Ian's chuckle turned into a gasp. Okay, damn, maybe so.

Mickey's head rested on Ian's chest and Ian's head fell atop Mickey's, the scent of his hair gel mixed with him intoxicating his senses.

Motherfucker.

-

Mandy exited the bathroom, her company no where to be seen. She leaned against the pole, debating calling Ian or waiting another couple minutes. Sure enough, the boys came wandering over a few minutes later.

"Took ya long enough, where'd you run off to?"

"Uh, Ian wanted to look at the movie poster for, uh-"

"Battleship."

"Yeah, Battleship."

"Nerds," Mandy called, walking towards the exit. They were terrible liars. They all knew it. Whatever, they hadn't killed each other, that's all she cared about. She turned around to face the semi-stunned boys, "Coming?"

They headed back home in the sweltering sun, Mandy leading the group as always.

And if the two boys walked a little closer than before as Mandy turned a blind eye, that was nobody's business but theirs.

[rainestorm2556]

Since my post about what I want for season 3 is blowing up I thought I’d try my hand at what happens in my head for Season 3 w/ Storm, her cousin, & Arya included:

Camila takes in all seven of Luz’s friends

They all have bunk beds and share a room

They’re super chaotic too and always up past their bedtime

Homework is done at the kitchen table

Everyone teases Storm for liking Ava

When she does realize she likes Ava she’s in the room and just goes “oh shit” to witch everyone looks at her

She legit just responds with “fuck, I’m a lesbian”

Arya is very flirty towards Hunter but he’s so dense and doesn’t realize she likes him even when she goes “Oh Hunter, darling~”

Storm cuts her hair almost immediately after arriving in the human realm

She picks up guitar

Aralyn starts stressing like Lilith big time

Once they dares Hunter to do the worm across the room but he didn’t know what it was so Storm did it instead

Storm keeps basically her version of Marcy’s journal, but y’know, owl house, human realm, and her

Everyone teases her when she reveals that her middle name is Evangeline

They all love and fear Camila

Once Willow tried to make Camila a birthday bouquet using plant magic but she went overboard and the whole house became a jungle

So they all just baked her a cake instead

In the human realm no one knows what happened to King

Raine and Eda get back together

Alador uses the infamous Stolas line from the new episode “THAT WAS THE SOUND OF A FUCKING DIVORCE!” on Odalia

Raine and Eda get engaged

For those that went to the human realm and King, they have a little tombstone with all their names on it

Eda visits it often and wallows in her remorse and guilt

Raine had to reassure her

She goes mama mode X10,000 and basically adopts all the kids left

Lilith figures out how to go Harpy mode

Eda gets a prosthetic arm designed by Alador

The Collector is literally just being a weird kid

In the human realm all the witches have to cover their ears and one day out of literally nowhere Stan shows up for Storm

Now she spends a day every other week with him

Flapjack keeps being a cutie

Storm keeps a locket with pictures of her and Eda in it

She loves Guns N Roses

Gus is obsessed with giraffes

He gets a troublemaker side and uses illusions for pranks

Amity is worried about the twins and her dad but not Odalia

Gus helps everyone forge illegal documents with his illusion magic

Camila remembers all the kids (including Vee)’s specific likes and dislikes

Lots of family photos with the witches and Vee get put up on the mantle

Luz & Storm take up major leadership roles

Ed & Em look like their natural selves, no more magic to make them look different

Alador spends more time with the twins

Even Darius is reassuring Eda that she didn’t fail the kids and King

King keeps tricking the collector so that they do what he wants in order to find a way back to the human realm and save the group

Storm starts randomly dancing a lot

If anyone calls her “Eva” or by her middle name she’ll riot

Camila doesn’t play favorites

The kids have definitely gotten hurt on the bunk beds before but it’s the only option Camila can think of

The gang will FaceTime each other put food up to the camera and “feed” each other

Luz’s palisman hatches

Hunter loves Zuko

Boscha turns around and turns out to not be so bad

Hooty is more sad but still Hooty

Storm likes Mickey Mouse because his voice reminds her of Hooty’s

She tried doing a Hooty impression once and everyone recorded her

Storm starts letting people call her Stormie and starts wearing her glasses rather than her contacts if only so she can feel more connected to Raine and Eda

Eda and Raine talk a lot about raising Storm together and want to make sure she approves before they get married

Eda opens up a teeny bit about Stan and tells Raine how he really does care about Storm and how she loves how easily he makes her smile and laugh

Bunk bed switching definitely happens in the middle of the night

How people say “I’m gonna get you” to like little kids or animals in silly goofy mood voice is Storm whenever she says “I’m gonna commit arson” she also gets in the crab pose to say that

Storm learns how to play poker and Hexes Hold ‘Em

Bedtime stories are a must for the mothers in both realms and so are bedtime forehead kisses

Eda goes through a lot of old photo albums of little Storm with Raine