#so many fab reads on and off line this year

[messrsrarchives]

14- favorite book/fic you’ve read this year :3

OOO fav book: The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guine. sci-fi which isn't my go to but !!! essentially the MC is sent to another planet and has to adjust to their norms - this planet is agender with no gender roles or norms, all go by they/them and only have an assigned sex once during their cycle to reproduce. the politics!? it was so much less "can people change their gender" and more "can we ever free ourselves from this system", but in a way that was just. UGH. the story, the characters, the politics? everything about this was flawless and it's ignited a love for sci-fi in me which noone could have seen coming. highly recommend.

and FICS!? god i've read so many this year but these two really stick out:

The Heir to the House of Prince (series) - elph13 i mean cmon, we saw my reactions to this. just,,, truly phenomenal. the characters, the worldbuilding, the magical lore, the LOVE!? love is so so so important to me and i really liked the emphasis on past relationships here where it isn't "this was nothing now that i've met you" but rather "this is a part of me. even if it didn't work out, that love was there and it's no less important than this one" and i just admire that a lot. INCREDIBLE snupin, INCREDIBLE nottpott, incredible everything. this series was a highlight. worldbuilding and magical lore are two of my favourite things in fics and this one was just phenomenal.

Language Lessons - MsAlexWP: ( @languagelessonswolfstar ) potentially the most fun i've had following along with a WIP. getting the email, RUNNINGGGG to friends and reacting together and then leaving excited comments? fandom <3 but ohhh this one. first of all, sirius' accidental magic is everything to me, we don't often see that explored in adults and i loved that (again, magical loreee!!) if you know me, you know i LOVE dual-timeline fics, and you'll know i love fwb/oblivious fics. again!!! love!!! love in all its manifestations, love that's always been there whether you noticed it or not, just ugh. also regulus is a monk btw, throwing that here. but yes, this one sticks out as a big part of this year both because of the story and the experience reading it.

[harrisonstories]

George Harrison with his mother Louise (1964)

NOTE: This is an article from The Guardian posted in 2007 which I happened to come across. It's long but a lovely read. Enjoy!

With love from her to me In 1963, like many girls, Lilie Ferrari had a crush on George Harrison. When she wrote to him, she scarcely expected a reply, but an admiring letter did come back - from his mother. It was the start of an extraordinary, enduring correspondence In 1963, I was 14 and, like almost every girl in Britain, I fell in love with a Beatle. "My" Beatle was George Harrison. From the first photograph I saw of the Fab Four, I was drawn to his dark eyes, serious face and enigmatic demeanour. He rarely smiled, even when he was being funny, and this made him all the more mysterious and enticing. Compared to the uncouth boys I had to deal with at school every day, George was a delicate, idealised vision of what I thought boys ought to be like. If he had pimples, I never saw them. If he swore, I never heard it. I never saw his hair greasy, his armpits damp, his shoes scuffed. In short, he was perfect.

We had just moved to Norwich, and I had missed a Beatles concert by a few weeks; but a girl in my class had somehow obtained all the Beatles' home addresses (I daren't think how, looking back) and was selling them at playtime for half a crown each. A bargain, I thought, handing over my two-and-six eagerly. Immediately upon the exchange, 174 Mackets Lane, Liverpool, became the repository of all my fantasies.

That day I hurried home to compose my first letter to George. I had discovered the joy of words, and wasn't about to be intimidated into single syllables by writing to a Beatle. I don't remember exactly what I wrote, but in spite of my best intentions I suspect it was a gauche jumble of repressed adoration, along the lines of "You're the best Beatle" and "I much prefer From Me to You to Come On by the Stones". I don't remember waiting for the postman every morning. By then the Beatles had started their journey into the stratosphere (it was the year the term Beatlemania was coined) and I guess I assumed I was too small a cog in the great Beatle wheel to merit any kind of response.

But one day a letter with a Liverpool postmark did come, addressed to me in careful looped handwriting. I opened it with trembling fingers and, instead of a letter from George, found one from his mum, Louise.

After a few niceties and general bulletins about "the boys'" progress, a question leaped off the page: "Are you," she asked, "by any chance related to a writer called Ivy Ferrari, who writes doctor-and-nurse romances?"

I bellowed a great scream that brought the family running: my mother was Ivy Ferrari, a romantic novelist churning out Mills & Boon paperbacks with titles like Nurse at Ryminster, Doctor at Ryminster, Almoner at Ryminster. I couldn't believe it - I might be a fan of her son, but Mrs Harrison was evidently a fan of my mother. I felt as if I had been raised from one among millions to a special place in Mrs Harrison's head.

Of course I wrote back to tell her that I was indeed Ivy Ferrari's daughter. I was happy to have made the connection - but so, it seemed, was she. I couldn't quite grasp it. Beatles were glamorous; my mum was a harassed woman with inky fingers, unruly hair and scruffy skirts who sweated over a typewriter all day. How could they compare? In the past I might have been indifferent to the overwrought love lives of the fictional staff of Ryminster hospital, but now they seemed to take on a glamour of their own. George never wrote to me, and my mother never wrote to Mrs Harrison, but the two of us began a correspondence that lasted for several years - years that took her from the Mackets Lane council house to a smart bungalow in Appleton, George from gangling teenage guitarist to married man, and me from schoolgirl to young woman.

I sent Mrs Harrison signed copies of my mother's novels. She sent me signed pictures of the Beatles. I asked her intense questions ("Which one is your favourite, besides George?" Answer: "John, because he does the tango with me in the kitchen and makes me laugh"). She interrogated me about the mysteries of my mother's creations, such as whether my mum knew any real doctors like Dr David Callender. ("He was fairly tall and tough-looking, with tawny-brown hair and a lean, intent face. His eyes were dark and compelling, so full of fire and life they drew me like a magnet . . .")

On my 15th birthday, Mrs Harrison sent me a small piece of blue fabric, part of a suit George had worn at the Star Club in Hamburg. Once, I got a crumpled newspaper cutting containing a photo of the Beatles with their scribbled signatures on it, and a big lipstick kiss, which, she said, had been planted there by John Lennon.

She sent me notes that George wrote her on used envelopes: "Dear Mum, get me up at 3, love George." She wrote on the backs of old Christmas cards and odd bits of paper - I never knew why. She told me funny stories about her upbringing in Liverpool, a world of men in caps on bikes and old ladies with jugs of gin. I told her about my life in Norfolk, about my sisters, my pony, the dog, my mother. I told her things I didn't tell anyone else - my fear of failure, my terrible, hidden shyness, my longing to have real adventures, lead a different kind of life to the quiet, rural existence I endured. She was my invisible friend, the silent recipient of everything I had to say.

She always answered my questions, and offered up teasing glimpses of life as the mother of a superstar - "I'm sitting by the pool with Pattie. Had a lovely time at the film premiere" - remarks tantalisingly combined with more mundane observations about knitting and cakes. Of course I never mentioned "real" boys who had caught my eye - that would have been somehow unfaithful to George. That was the only omission I can remember - apart from never articulating how I felt about her son, because I wanted her to think of me as a "normal" girl, and not the wide-eyed obsessive I really was.

After several years the gaps between our exchanges grew longer, as real life began to get in the way of teenage fantasies. I can't remember which of us wrote the last letter, but by the time I was 18 and working in London, the correspondence had petered out.

Soon after we had slipped from each other's lives, I found myself standing a few feet away from George himself, in the Apple boutique on London's Baker Street. He looked tired and unapproachable. The George that I had conjured up in the kitchen of Mackets Lane, propping notes for his mum on the mantelpiece, seemed a kinder, gentler prospect than the gaunt-looking superstar standing before me who might just tell me to get lost. He was close enough to speak to, but I've never been sorry that I backed away in silence.

Mrs Harrison died in 1970 when I was 21. I remember reading about it in the papers. I grieved for her on my own, and remembered her small acts of kindness to a girl in Norfolk she had never met. Her son, of course, made an enormous mark on my life without ever knowing it. I even married someone who embodied all the things I thought George represented: quiet strength, spirituality, the same dry humour, the dark good looks. My husband Colin had been, among other things, a roadie and the owner of punk record shops. Fortunately, he also had a sense of humour and a high level of tolerance. He learned to live with the omnipresence of George, and would sign cards to me "Love from George and The Other One".

As the years passed, my life came into focus and George receded. He married, had a son, as did I. I went back to live in a Norfolk cottage, while George retired to a Gothic mansion in Henley. In 1994 I went to Liverpool for the first time with Colin, as a football supporter rather than a Beatles pilgrim: Norwich City were playing at Anfield. I took time out to stand in front of 174 Mackets Lane and tried to imagine Mrs Harrison sitting at the window in the front room, answering my letters. I wanted to weep, but I didn't. When Norwich scored the winning goal that afternoon and we leapt to our feet, I cheered instead for that kindly Liverpudlian who took the time and trouble to light up my teenage years.

I've gradually lost the priceless relics of those years. They would have made me rich if I hadn't been so careless with my belongings; then again, I would never have sold them. So my side of that eccentric correspondence has all but disappeared, along with my youth.

In September 2001, Colin died of Hodgkin's disease. A month later, George was dead, too. It felt as if two distinct parts of my life had ended all at once: my dreamlike girlhood, and my real, adult life with a beloved partner and friend. But every day in my study at home, I look at something that binds these two parts together. It's a photograph of George taken in 1962 in Hamburg by Astrid Kirchherr (girlfriend of "fifth" Beatle Stuart Sutcliffe). Colin secretly sought it out, bought it, hand-made a frame for it, and gave it to me on my 40th birthday. It is one of my most treasured possessions.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26

[sebastianshaw]

Rando Eternals shit: - I haven’t read these issues but according to TV Tropes, but apparently in some of the pre-Gaiman reboot books, Makkari used a lot of outdated slang for the obvious reason that, of course, he’s an ancient immortal trying to catch up to the modern day, and I wish this detail was still around. In my heart it is and she’s totally signing stuff like “tubular” and “cat’s pajamas” and Shaw absolutely thinks she is Clearly Very Hip & Current (*sobs*) - I really like it when writers remind us that these aren’t just immortal humans, these are things that only LOOK human but operate on totally different rules, and what I love even more is when they’re portrayed as kind of SCARY for it. Not scary just in that they have incredible super powers, LOTS of people in the Marvel universe do, but like. . .like an Uncanny Valley thing? Like there’s this bit in Gaiman’s story where Thena, who was transformed into a human by Sprite who rewrote reality so she had a human husband and human son, gets her memories back and transforms into herself. And her son Joey comes in and goes “momma?” and Thena assures him that it’s still her, but the narrative boxes reveal “And even as she says it, she knows it isn’t true” as she picks him up BY THE BACK OF HIS SHIRT like she’s scruffing an animal, not at all how a mother picks up a son. And she largely handles him that same way for the rest of the book, even as she’s protecting him; one Deviant scoffs when she calls him her son, countering that “you’re not even the same species, he’s your pet” and whatever her voice says, he body language agrees. And right after this, she steps outside and sees Ikaris hovering there, golden eyes aglow, and the narrative boxes say how she realizes now why the humans mistook them for gods because “Nothing human. Nothing human could look like that.” And Gaiman’s series also has this VARIANT COVER that depicts the Eternals as monstrous, even though they’re the protagonists of this series (well, protagonists and villains, much like the Inhumans most of their problems come from their own people, which I also enjoy, they’re not superheroes they’re a weird and fundamentally alien culture that is more fun to explore than just use for big battle stories) Like they’re FREAKY AF. And while I think their Uncanny Valley Inhumanity should probably be being Too Perfect and a general SENSE of power and strangeness if they’re not masking it---like, they can walk among humans, Sersi presents as a normal fab party girl ALL THE TME---this gets the same disturbing VIBE across, but it’s sadly a vibe that I think it’s more something people would FEEL when they see them for what they truly are and can’t really be portrayed visually in screen or panels. I imagine that Phoenix Jean has a similiar vibe when she goes off, and I like to think once in awhile Haven does too, like this shadow of a sense that this thing is only human -shaped (I mean Haven is human but she had a cosmic entity in her uterus 20 years I feel like that should just sort of pass through every once in awhile like a ghost’s ghost) - In the latest trade paperback I got of Gillen’s reboot, it includes quotes/notes from him and he says “The Eternals have a complicated and contradictory history, which meant that one of my goals was trying to synthesize it into all one tapestry. “Turn continuity into mythology” was my line. As such, you had to look for ideas and connections, hints and interpretation. It literally can’t all be true---it contradicts. What’s a reading that could make sense? [. . .] I hope many of these [previous] stories now read more like propaganda or warped memories of a more complicated truth, in the light of everything we now know. Yes, this is all true. . .just incomplete. [. . .] I really tried to at least have an interpretation of all earlier stories that was at least kinda true.” And honestly, I really like this? While I didn’t like all the changes his reboot of their lore and history made, I really think this is a GREAT approach to the source material that is, as he said, often contradictory, and a good approach to comic book lore in general for writers. Also, I do have to admit that the changes he made that I didn’t care for---namely, they no longer actually are/have biological families with each other, they were all created at the same time now and grouped into family roles by The Machine, so Zuras and Cybele aren’t REALLY Thena’s parents in the human sense, for instance--does serve to make them that much farther removed from human ways of doing and being.  Of course, as much as this makes me admire him on the background reading he clearly did for this and for Exodus, it makes me that much more annoyed how he fudged/retconned Shaw’s background and never brings up his amnesiac self’s relationship with Hope even though clearly he’s a guy who does his goddamn homework. I just...I like Gillen but god I’m so tired of EVERYONE giving my dude the shaft while going above and beyond with bringing back old lore for other characters. Like jfc what did I do?  Also sorry I know this isn’t an Eternals blog and you didn’t follow for that but Oh Well.

[sitp-recs]

Hidden Gems by @moonflower-rose

September has been crazy, all those Christmas sex babies driving me up the wall but hello yes, here’s another bday gift this time for one of the coolest people in this fandom, Rosie Josephine Moonflower! Reading fics for this post was the easiest thing ever because I’ll never get enough of her fab writing, always bold and on point, full of wit, charm,brilliant characterization, hilarious dialogue and a lush take on sexy romance with all the feels. Rosie delivers my favourite combo of tropes with excellence every time, it’s really a crime that these fics don’t have as many kudos or comments as they deserve but I’m here to make things right!

For those who recognize her username from LJ, Rosie has been around for ages and we’re lucky to have her coming back to share new treats with us. She’s not only super talented but also has a fantastic grasp of Drarry flirting erm banter which is one of my favourite things in fic. I get so excited whenever I see a new story of hers, because I know it will be a fun ride mixing the best crack, angst, smut and romance we could ask for, satisfaction guaranteed. Imo her most delicious trademark is that unbeatable sense of humor, so charming it makes every fic become your new favourite thing with organic dynamics and cool, relatable characters. Her take on Ginny is especially dear to my heart as I came to admire and enjoy her presence in fics over the years.

Once you get to know Rosie it’s easy to see why her stories are so lovely and compelling - her cheerful, witty and no-nonsense personality is a delight to be around. Thank you Rosie for being a wonder and for gifting us with so many incredible fics! I can’t wait to see what comes next. I hope you have an incredible day!!! 🎉🎉

Counterparts (2005, Mature, 1k) - a brilliant and tender look into their life together, full of fun and small intimacies as we learn about this fabulously messy Draco through Harry’s smitten eyes. “Draco is demanding, but Harry is accommodating” is one of my favourite lines ever and I can’t stop thinking about it. What a treat!

Draco hogs the bed. Harry loves it.

Receipts (2022, Mature, 2k) - hands down one of the funniest, most charming short fics I’ve read this year, creative, sexy, with brOTP goals and Drarry + Ginsy combo! I adore the witty dialogue and sweet Harry making Draco blush. This is a perfect showcase of Rosie’s talent at short form, superb humor and characterization, you won’t be able to stop laughing your ass off :D

Pansy and Ginny have made a stupid wager and Draco may be the one who comes away a winner.

Breakfast (2006, Explicit, 3k) - never thought the idea of a naked Draco learning how to make Harry breakfast would get me all emo but here we are. Yet another delicious portrait of sexy, fun and tender domesticity, so lush and full of happy feels I can’t stop smiling! Come and feast 🥘

Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.

The World of Management (Or, Harry Potter and the Office Romance) (2012, Explicit, 15k) - fabulous office romance with A+ push-pull banter and a chaotic smooth flirt Harry driving Draco mad with want and exasperation, what’s not to love? This is a must read for all those who enjoy Drarry & politics, light and fun, scorching hot and very sweet with a charming and confident tea lover Harry + competent bossy Draco, just as we like it. Can’t have enough of “oh, have a day off”/ “how dare you!”.

Draco Malfoy is the heart and soul of the Department of Magical Games and Sport. The only thing standing in the way of professional bliss is his boss. And Harry Potter.

In Dreams (2011, Explicit, 38k) - I’ll never stop screaming about Rosie’s opus, one of the most brilliant and intriguing case fics I’ve read with a breathtaking opening and superb character development and Drarry dynamics. Please please PLEASE read this today and come scream with me about your new favourite fic. You can check the rec I did for it here.

Harry wasn't expecting to ever see Draco Malfoy again. He also wasn't expecting to walk into a political conspiracy that morning either, but apparently that's exactly what the day has in store for him.

[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

[katblu42]

Midnight Snack

This is actually a re-post of a fic I wrote over a year ago now - at the time it had no name, but it does now!

It is Scott whump (pretty much the only time I've managed to do that to him, I think) with Gordon to the rescue.

Based on a spin of a prompt generator wheel that gave me Drowning, and the location of an Alley.

He was here in New York City for a week, staying in the penthouse apartment a short car ride away from the office. A week filled with unavoidable, important Tracy Industries meetings. A week he was already wishing was over despite it being only Tuesday. He was over it. The petty bickering, the business politics, the smug, know-it-all idiots, the over-confident jerks and the patronising old-hats who forced him to continually prove he knew what he was doing. He’d had enough. And he’d already had his fill of being under the watchful eye of his security detail every time he stepped outside the apartment.

So it was that Scott found his way out onto the pavement, shiny and slick from earlier rain, walking the short distance from the rear of the apartment building to the little coffee shop on the corner. He’d made this sneaky jaunt so many times before – a brief escape from the claustrophobic confines of the constant security presence – without incident. The coffee was good, but it was the pastries that kept him coming back. He wasn’t exactly sure of their official hours, but he’d never yet found them closed, so despite it being just before midnight on a Tuesday he was able to come away with a hot cup of (decaf) coffee and an almond scroll.

Even at this late hour traffic was almost constant, tyres flicking up misty spray from the oil-slick shiny, damp street as each vehicle passed. Almost halfway back to the apartment he heard a cry above the traffic’s white noise. A young, female voice. Indistinct, tearful, painful sounds punctuated by definite “No!”s and a “Please, don’t!”, then a screamed plea for help. It was coming from the narrow alley to he’d just passed. The alley was practically unlit and lined with large dumpsters that obscured his view, but he could see figures moving about deep in the shadows.

Before he had realised what he was doing he’d taken a few steps into the alley, calling out as he looked into the gloom.

“Hey! Everything okay?”

The scuffling sounds ahead of him ceased and he walked carefully forward on the muddy, pocked and potholed bitumen as he headed deeper into the narrow space between dumpsters. Despite his caution he never saw it coming. He had no chance to react. He received a solid blow to the back of the head and saw stars pinpricking his dimming vision. He didn’t feel himself fall, but he was very aware of his face hitting the wet, gravelly ground before he blacked out.

***

Gordon’s squidsense was tingling. He re-checked that everything and everyone was secured before Thunderbird Two could take off on the way to get the injured to hospital. Everything was as it should be but the tingling lingered in the back of his mind.

“Good to go back here, Virgil,” he relayed to his pilot over comms.

“FAB,” was the reply, simultaneous with the roar of VTOL as the giant aircraft began her ascent. “But something’s bothering you. Spill.”

“Squidsense is tingling.”

Having made sure the injured remained settled through take-off, Gordon made his way to his co-pilot seat. He’d barely sat down before contacting John.

“Hey, Thunderbird Five, give me a quick check in on Alan and Scott. I need to shift this uneasy feeling.”

He didn’t miss the concerned look Virgil shot across at him, but any comments he might have made were averted when the space above the dash lit up with John’s hologram.

“Funny you should ask that.” The furrow in John’s brow suggested nothing funny at all. “Alan’s fine, however I had some odd readings on Scott’s vitals, but now there’s nothing, and I can’t raise him on comms. His Security detail haven’t seen him since he returned to the apartment almost three hours ago. Eos is trying to track his phone, but it seems to be turned off.”

“It’s not like Scott to turn his phone off,” Virgil commented. “Could be a flat battery.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Virge. You’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking – something’s wrong.” Gordon was certain it was Scott that had sent his uncanny knack for sensing trouble into overdrive, and he was formulating a plan of action. “John, send his head of security up to check on him. Since we’re headed to New York with our injured passengers anyway, I’m gonna pay Scott a visit. Virgil can drop me off on the way past.”

Virgil had some thoughts on that, but when John came back to them with word from the head of Tracy Industries Security that Scott was not in his apartment all argument ceased.

They reached NYC in minutes. Rain began to fall as Thunderbird Two hovered above the apartment building long enough for a zipline to be deployed, Gordon to slide down, and the cable to be retrieved. Then, with a quick flare of her rear engines the great green beast was on her way to the hospital. By the time the roar of her engines had faded Gordon was already running down the stairs, heading for the penthouse.

***

Rain was falling. A heavy downpour, pelting the pavement. Scott was aware of the sound, and the sensation of drops falling on his face, and the fact that half his face was lying in water. And pain. A great deal of pain. He breathed out and water bubbled against his lips and nostrils. He tried to move his hand, to push himself up off the ground, but searing pain lanced through his head and for a second he had no sense of where up was. Then he blacked out again.

***

Inside Scott’s apartment Gordon searched for something that might tell him what had happened to his big brother. The security officer there with him was nervous and apologetic, but Gordon had no time for any of that. The other five officers that made up Scott’s night-time detail had headed out to search the immediate area, but no-one knew how long Scott had been gone so it was difficult to define how large an are they should search.

“John, I could really use some info right about now.”

“Eos has found his phone. Signal is pinging off towers in Long Island.”

“That’s nowhere near here, and Scott would have no reason to be there this late at night.” Gordon was finding it difficult to keep the looming panic out of his voice.

“Security Chief Anderson is sending TI officers out there now, and local law enforcement are looking into it as well.”

“You don’t think Scott’s there either.” It was not a question. Gordon’s mind was racing. He was missing something. A thought was trying to form somewhere in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t calm enough to give it time to voice itself.

“No,” John replied, still trying to work through what they knew and find answers too. “Anderson says they didn’t see him leave the apartment after 9pm. Eos is still screening CCTV footage, but there’s been no sign of Scott leaving or anyone else entering until we sent Anderson up here to investigate.”

“Wait, John, check the footage of for the rear of the building. I think I know why no one saw him leave.”

It had finally twigged. The thing Gordon was missing. The thing that was missing from the room, the reason Scott would leave the apartment late at night – coffee and pastry. Gordon was one of the few people who knew about Scott’s sneaky visits to the café. He exited the penthouse at a run, heading for the express elevator that would take him to the building’s parking lot and rear exit. He needed to follow Scott’s route, and he was prepared to leave no stone unturned in the search for any clue as to what had happened to Scott.

Once he was outside the rain pummelled his shoulders and began plastering his hair to his head as he hurried along the street towards the corner coffee shop. He couldn’t go too fast, scared he’d miss something as he swept his gaze from left to right, scanning every shadow, every nook and cranny. He came to the entrance of the narrow, dark ally and his squidsense became so active it almost hurt.

He spotted a rapidly disintegrating paper bag exposing soggy pastry, lying on the wet pavement next to an empty cardboard cup, it's contents long since washed away.

Entering the alley cautiously, still scanning everything in sight, Gordon found he needed more light and reached into his baldric for a glowstick, thankful he still had some left after the earlier rescue. Snapping it and holding it ahead of him to cast it’s green glow, he made his way past a couple of large, dirty dumpsters and then stopped short at the sight that greeted him. There was Scott, lying face down on the uneven ground, his face in a pothole, blood slowly oozing down the back of his neck from a nasty headwound and staining his sodden blue shirt.

Gordon forced himself to step forward through the initial paralysis of shock and hit his comm to call John as he knelt beside his brother. Fingers searching for a pulse on a wrist bereft of watch or comms with one hand while the other gently lifted Scott’s head from the puddle.

“I’ve got him, John!” There was a pulse, but Scott wasn’t breathing. “Shit, Scott! John, I’ve got a weak pulse but he’s not breathing. I’m administering CPR”

Gordon checked the airway was clear and rolled Scott onto his back to administer the necessary rescue breaths as he spoke.

“FAB.” The reply was clipped, emotionless in tone, which told Gordon exactly how John felt at that moment. “Virgil should be with you in less than two minutes.”

To Gordon’s great relief it took less than a minute for his brother to give a cough that expelled dirty water from blue-tinged lips. He rolled Scott into the recovery position and sat beside him, panting. One hand rested gently just above his brother’s hip feeling the rise and fall of the ribcage with every shallow breath, the other hand gently brushing limp, wet hair from his face. He took a moment to process the lack of jacket, and the absence of phone or wallet in the pockets of Scott’s pants. A mugging? Scott knew how to defend himself against a single attacker, this had to have been an ambush of some kind.

Gordon had questions, but for now he was just relieved his brother was breathing. His fingers gently brushed Scott’s forehead again and eyelids flickered open revealing blue eyes searching for the source of the touch. There was a shaky, deep inhale.

“Gordy?” Barely more than a croak.

“I’m here, Scott. I’ve got you.”

[a-lockman5]

Things were different now Pt. 3 - Happy to Help {Devi and Paxton}

A/n: as usual, I don’t own these characters, but I love them. This continues to follow the timeline I initially wrote so it does not coincide with season 2 at all. Paxton is a 17 year old with feelings, not a 10 year old before puberty… I hate proofreading so if it’s awful, apologies. Umm… so sorry it’s a year late.. and honestly, I kinda hate parts of it, but here we are nonetheless. Hope you like it!

Warnings: fluff, angst, phobias, I think that’s it.

Part one, Part two

Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist!

“Hey, baby,” Ben greeted her in a sing-song voice.

“Morning, Ben,” Devi replied as Ben laid a kiss to her cheek, and took the seat next to her.

“Why didn’t you come by for breakfast this morning?” he asked.

Devi felt her eyes grow wide momentarily. She had been going to Ben’s for breakfast before school all last week, telling her mom they were studying. It wasn’t a formal date though, and she hadn’t thought to plan an excuse. “Uh…” she scrambled, feeling the room close in as people filled the desks behind and on her other side. “I’m not feeling well,” she lied. “I overslept.”

She averted her gaze from Ben to dig a pencil out of her backpack from where it sat on the floor to her right. When she tried to unzip her pencil holder though, it got stuck and she flung it, one-handed, onto the floor. As she reached down to grab it, the person sitting next to her reached down to help too, and when she looked up, Paxton was grinning back at her.

“Morning, Vishwakumar. Long time, no see.”

Devi tried to swallow past a large lump in her throat. “Morning, Paxton,” she returned hesitantly, noting his hair was still damp and that it added curl to his hair that usually he used product to tame.

Devi had her first swim lesson with Paxton that morning before school. It’s not that she was hiding it from Ben, her boyfriend. It was just that she didn’t feel ready to tell him about it… so yeah, she was hiding it from him. Not because of Paxton though! She was hiding it because of her.

Not even Devi’s mom knew how afraid she was of being in the water since her paralysis was triggered. Prior to that, she loved swimming. It was the only sport she was at all inclined to and she even considered trying out for team sophomore year until she went crazy and lost her legs.

She tried to move past it. Well, kind of. Her physical therapist thought aquatic therapy may help strengthen and facilitate the functional return of her legs. Instead, it resulted in her screaming and hyperventilating in Dan’s arms as he struggled to get her back to the lift out of the pool. Devi begged Dan not to tell her mom about her newfound fear and promised she would discuss it with Dr. Ryan. Her physical therapist agreed, and Devi never mentioned it to anyone again. Until Paxton.

“You want to swim?” He repeated back, puzzled as they sat on the couch in the garage. “I’ve seen you swim.”

“When?”

“Your freshman year…” he trailed off as realization dawned on him.

Devi didn’t know Paxton had any idea who she was until she propositioned him at the beginning of school this year. He remembered her from the year before? He remembered her before she lost her legs?

“Yeah… I haven’t been able to since…”

“So when you fell in the pool at Gross’s party…?” Paxton filled the silence for her.

“I’m really glad you pulled me out otherwise it would have gotten way more embarrassing,” she admitted.

She saw his jaw clench before his next question, “Why didn’t your friends help you?”

“Um…” she took a deep breath to muster the courage up to tell him, “they don’t know… nobody knows.”

And then he gave her that same deep, calculated look. The look he gave her when they were in his car so many weeks ago. The look he gave her before they kissed. Before he kissed her.

He agreed instantly after that. And things went mildly well that morning. She wasn’t able to get in the water, so instead, she sat next to the edge of the pool and watched Paxton swim for awhile and then they talked.

She was surprised by how patient Paxton had been with her especially since she dragged him out of bed earlier than necessary. He told her it was a process though, and he agreed to help her through it. Her heart felt full when he said that. She probably would have read too far into it in the past, but things were different now.

Devi knew she would have to tell Ben eventually that she was spending so much time with Paxton, but she just didn’t want him to overreact. He knew how much she had pined for Paxton before they started dating, and even though she and Paxton were friends only now, it wouldn’t change the threat he posed in her boyfriend’s mind.

you and PHY seem awfully chummy - Fab

Devi looked over her shoulder at her friends after reading Fabiola’s text message. Both Fab and Eleanor were giving her pretty pointed looks, and Devi just responded with a grimace and raised eyebrows. This whole friends thing sounded so easy with Paxton when they were sitting on his couch in the middle of the night. No one else was around, no one could pass judgment. Things were going to be a little harder in practice.

Fortunately, class was pretty uneventful. Mr. Shapiro started a new unit, they went over the lesson, and they were dismissed. Devi gathered her things quickly and hurried out of the room without waiting for her friends, her boyfriend, or Paxton. Of course, Paxton was her friend, so she didn’t know why she listed him in his own category.

“Hey,” the object of her musings appeared beside her locker.

Devi jumped at the sound of his voice, but managed to somewhat recover. “Hey, what’s good, playa?”

Paxton smirked at her with warm eyes. “Just wanted to check on you now that it’s been a couple hours.”

“Oh! Honestly, I feel good. Watching you actually helps me calm down,” she said before realizing how it sounded. “I mean, not that I just watch you, but I mean, watching you swim… it’s nice to see how you glide through the water… it’s like a white noise machine.”

“Right,” Paxton replied slowly after a beat. “Well you should come by today after school. I have an idea.”

She nodded as he walked away down the hall. Before Devi’s imagination could get the better of her though, her friends replaced Paxton in her line of vision.

“What is going on?” Fabiola asked bluntly.

“Yeah, are you and Paxton hooking up behind Ben’s back?”

“What? Of course not!” Devi was outraged. How could they think she would do that? “Paxton is my friend.”

“Since when?”

“Yeah, last thing we knew, you went there for dinner for his sister and it got hella weird,” Eleanor added. “What gives?”

Devi had not shared the one on one conversations she and Paxton had with her friends. Sure, the initial apology after dinner would probably be okay. Having a drink with Paxton in the garage at 2 o’clock in the morning after catching him in his underwear with an erection? No, there was no good way to relay that encounter.

“Um..” Devi hesitated. She couldn’t tell them the truth now after hiding her fear for so long, and then telling Paxton before telling them. They’d think she was a bad friend. “I’m tutoring him,” she lied. “Yeah, he’s got to get his grades up to meet the minimum for Stanford swimming to offer him a scholarship so I’m helping him.”

“Does Ben know?” Eleanor asked as Devi’s phone pinged in her pocket.

She pulled her phone out and read the message from Paxton, don’t forget to bring your suit ;), and she felt her cheeks heat up. “No,” she told Eleanor absentmindedly. “No, he doesn’t know.”

“Well, are you going to tell him?” Fabiola prodded.

Devi shook herself out of her daze and really heard her friends’ questions. “No, not right now. You guys know he would freak out if he knew Paxton and I were spending time together no matter how platonic. I’ll tell him eventually but everything is still so new, I don’t want to wreck it.”

Her friends’ judgment was evident, but Devi couldn’t let that bother her. Paxton was helping her confront one of her deepest fears, and she didn’t need to feel guilty about that. Instead, she chose to focus on making the most of her time with Paxton and enjoying their friendship while hopefully ridding her of her phobia.

Devi knocked briefly before letting herself into the Hall-Yoshida garage. It was empty and so she dropped her bag and plopped down onto the couch. It was almost funny, Devi thought. Things were so different now. A few months ago, she was terrified entering this space. She’d freaked, cut her leg open and bolted. Even the last time she’d been here, she’d tried to quietly reflect and calm her nerves after having one of her sexual fantasies manifest in the form of actually seeing Paxton Hall-Yoshida in his underwear with a boner. Now, she just comes right in and —

“Make yourself at home,” Paxton’s voice broke her from her thoughts.

She intended to make a sarcastic retort, but was caught off guard by him being in swim trunks already, and not the tight spandex trunks he wore for the swim team. No, these were normal, red and black trunks. They were entirely less revealing, outside of showing off his muscled chest, but they weren’t a uniform. Something about Paxton being voluntarily half naked and not bleeding from the hand had Devi looking at him dumbly from across the room.

“Devi, you good?” He asked cautiously, coming to sit next to her.

Her gaze trailed down from his collarbone to his pecs, to his abs, to his… her eyes grew wide as she realized she was openly ogling him. She snapped her eyes back to his to find him grinning at her.

“Everything okay?” He asked again. She nodded dumbly in response. “Good. Why don’t you go change? I have an idea that may work to start.”

“Okay, I’ll go change in the bathroom and meet you back here?”

“Nah, just come out to the back yard.”

Completely disrobed in the bathroom, Devi had another decision to make. Two suits. She brought two bathing suits with her both that morning and in the afternoon. She hadn’t even bothered to change before class that morning because just entering the aquatic center was enough to bring her near hyperventilation. She couldn’t do that again, and to be fair, if Paxton had a pool, it was news to Devi. And she asked him to help her swim. If that’s what she really wanted, then she needed to trust Paxton and let him help her. That meant she had to choose: black, Speedo one-piece or bubble gum pink bikini?

“Why’d you even bring both, Devi?” She asked her reflection.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to answer that question. She knew things were different now. She was dating Ben, and Paxton was her friend. That was her choice… it was just a much easier choice to make when she and Paxton weren’t speaking to each other. If she was honest, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Paxton since their middle of the night encounter last week. He was right when he said they had come a long way. She had come a long way, becoming more comfortable around him, and seeing him on an equal level versus the Adonis pedestal she placed him on in the past. Then he became real.

Paxton became more than the unattainable sex god that riddled her darkest fantasies. He became someone she could talk with, laugh with, open up to. He became her friend. Her friend that was still a sex god that riddled her darkest fantasies… these were the thoughts that had her leaning toward the far more revealing bikini for their lesson that afternoon.

She had a boyfriend though, a boyfriend she very much liked. Sure, she and Ben were unkind to each other in the past. He had routinely referred to her by a boy’s name, called her unfuckable, and yeah, he started the rumor that she faked her paralysis freshman year. She played her own role in their antagonistic relationship though, and all that was behind them anyway. Ever since his party, Ben had been much nicer to her. Of course, that was including when he tried to kiss her while still dating Shira… but obviously, that was because he had feelings for her that when he was sober, he wasn’t ready to confront yet. He had been there for her like no one else had. He deserved a good girlfriend. That was Devi’s last thought on the subject before donning the black athletic one piece.

The first thing Devi saw when she stepped onto the patio made her heart catch in her throat. A hot tub. It was too big. It was too much. Too much. She couldn’t get in a hot tub. It was already way too hot, Devi thought, feeling the air get thicker around her. Her throat felt constricted and she wondered how anyone was as able to breathe in these conditions. It felt impossible.

“Devi! Are you okay?” She heard Paxton ask faintly.

Her head began shaking back and forth frantically, but she didn’t feel like she was the one controlling it. Instead, it was moving of its own accord, and her voice didn’t sound like her own when she said, “I can’t get in the hot tub.”

Two strong hands grasped her waist and physically turned her so her back was to the offending item. It was then she saw Paxton. His eyes searched hers desperately before a hand came to cradle her face. She immediately felt herself relax into his touch just enough that she could take a breath.

“Hey, you’re okay. I got you,” he cooed. “I know you’re not ready for that, and that’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”

She still felt like she was gulping for air, but her body melted into his as he pulled her in for a hug. They just stood like that until she could regain control of her breathing. When she did, Paxton gently released her and Devi was honestly surprised by how disappointed she was to not be in his arms any longer.

“You good?” He asked cautiously. She nodded sheepishly. “Cool. Let’s get away from this so you can see what I have set up for you.”

She nodded again and let him take her hand to lead her deeper into the backyard. When she saw it, she couldn’t believe the relief that flooded her.

“A slip n slide?” She huffed out.

“A slip n slide!” He dropped her hand to raise his arms victoriously. “I looked up some stuff about phobias and I think it’ll help. It’s called exposure treatment. We’ll start slow and work your way up.”

“You researched phobias?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “And I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

Devi felt herself smile. Paxton really took the time to try to figure out how to help her. No throwing her in the deep end of the pool, but actually holding her hand through this. Being by her side while they figured it out together. She couldn’t believe how lucky she felt to have him in her life at that moment.

It wasn’t a very fancy slip n side, most likely he’d had it in the shed since he and Becca were kids. It was still in good shape though and he’d placed it over a decline at the end that allowed for pooling of water. He had the hose running and ready, but when they stepped up to the start, it became infinitely more intimidating.

As though he could sense her apprehension, Paxton said, “how about I go first, and then you can try?”

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat in order to respond. When she wasn’t successful, she nodded. Paxton gave her a weak grin, and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. It was probably a measure of reassurance, and it worked for a moment, but the minute his touch was gone, her nerves settled in again.

“Okay, so you want to get a running start so you go faster through the slide,” he told her, taking four to five steps back. “You ready?”

“Ready,” she choked out after a beat of silence.

Paxton took off, and dove smoothly onto the track. Devi felt her anxiety melt away as he slid down the track on his stomach. It was almost like watching his perfect strokes through the water, and something about watching him made her forget her fear. Then he crashed into the small wading pool at the end of the slide, and just like that Devi’s breath was stuck in her throat again, and it felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over her head.

When Paxton stood up, he immediately sought her gaze for eye contact. Just as quickly, he seemed to notice how her panic rose again.

“Devi,” he called down to her. “You can do this, okay? Don’t think about the water, just focus on me.” She could feel how wide her eyes were and her mouth was starting to dry out as it hung open, but Paxton’s encouragement started to wear her down when he said, “Come to me, Devi. I got you.”

She took a steadying breath and barely nodded before stepping a few paces back like Paxton had. Paxton continued to cheer her on and beckon her to his open arms as she fought her body to cooperate with her. Finally, after another deep breath, Devi let out a guttural scream, her war cry, and ran toward the slide. She slid onto her stomach much like Paxton had and did not have the good sense to close her mouth until it was filled with hose water. It got her choked up again and it was difficult to catch her breath, but just as quickly as she started, she was plunged into the wading pool. Before she had a chance to panic-swallow more water, Paxton’s strong arms hauled her to a standing position and she collided with his chest in a tight hug.

“You did it!” He whispered triumphantly. “You did great, I’m so proud of you.”

“I did it,” she breathed, arms clutched tightly around his shoulders as though he would disappear if she let go. “I did it,” she repeated, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Devi and Paxton worked with the slip n slide for three more weeks, and it was amazing how quickly she was improving. Each time, Paxton was there to catch her at the end of the slide, and she grew more confident with each trip.

“So do you have plans this weekend?” Paxton asked, passing her a towel.

“Probably just studying for the history test,” she replied, drying her hair gently.

“With Gross?”

They hadn’t talked about Ben at all during their sessions. She had also skirted the issue of spending so much time with Paxton by telling her boyfriend that she’d been assigned a new student to tutor. She didn’t tell him it was Paxton. Things had been calm the last few weeks despite how crazy the first months of the semester had been. If she was honest, she hadn’t spent much time with or thought much about Ben that week at all. Things were going so well with Paxton and their sessions that she spent most of her time looking forward to the next time she’d be in his backyard in her bathing suit.

“Uh.. I don’t know. Probably him, Fab, and Eleanor, I guess,” she told him. “Or by myself. I don’t really have anything planned.”

“Would you…” he trailed off quietly before finding his voice again. “Would you maybe want to study here… with me?”

Devi felt herself smile. “Sure, I mean, my friends think I’m tutoring you anyway so that would make sense.”

“What?”

She breathed through another smile at how his brow furrowed, but rolled her eyes at herself before answering him. “I had to have a reason for why we’re talking so much more at school… so I told them I was tutoring you.”

Paxton’s head dropped as he huffed out a laugh. “You’re really good at lying, huh?”

“No! I just… get nervous about how people will react to stuff so sometimes it’s just easier to say something else.”

He nodded. “Well, you better tutor me then. ‘Cause if I fail this test, your whole story falls apart,” he said taking a step closer to her.

“Maybe you just don’t listen to me,” she grinned.

He took another step forward, this time into her personal space. “Impossible,” he countered, “have you met you?”

Devi’s smile grew before she realized how close Paxton really was to her. It wasn’t his actual proximity. They’d been closer physically than ever in these recent weeks, but something felt different that time. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and there was electricity in the air. He seemed to feel it too, and shook himself free before taking the towel back from her. That only allowed him to take in the full view of her from top to bottom, forcing Devi to close her eyes so she didn’t feel the full force of his gaze.

She heard Paxton swallow, then clear his throat, and then he took a step back. Devi chose then to meet his gaze, and found the same calculating look she’d now seen a total of three times. He had a depth she hadn’t previously credited him with. Now that she’d seen it, it was hard to ignore.

“Uh.. yeah, I think we could study together.”

Paxton grinned crookedly at her. “Cool,” he licked his lips before changing the subject. “Why don’t you go ahead and change, and then I’ll take you home.”

“That’s okay, I can I walk.” Devi said quickly. “I mean, I’d like to walk. Helps me clear my head.”

“Oh.. okay.”

Devi didn’t feel like she took another breath until she was shut in the bathroom of the Hall-Yoshida residence. Was Paxton really flirting with her? Did he really check her out like she thought he had? She’d been so wrong about so many of their encounters in the past, but… he did kiss her. Paxton Hall Yoshida was her first kiss and it was only a couple months ago. Maybe he really liked her. Maybe they —

A text message on her phone cut off her internal rambling. When she read it, her breath caught in her throat again:

Why are you at Paxton’s?

Fuck. Ben.

How could she forget about Ben? Here she was going down the Paxton rabbit hole again when she had Ben, her actual boyfriend. Things were different now though. She wasn’t sure exactly when they changed, but she knew they had.

She quickly typed out a response and then changed into her dry clothes.

***

“So Paxton is the student you’re tutoring?

“Uh.. yeah, kinda,” Devi told Ben. “Paxton is my friend, but I am helping him study.” It wasn’t technically a lie anymore now that they’d made plans for Saturday.

“Anything else you want to tell me?”

“What are you accusing me of, Ben?”

“Obviously, I’m the only one committed to this relationship. You’re still just drooling over some dick that wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

Devi scoffed, as the wind left her sails. She knew Ben would be hurt, and she expected him to be jealous that she was spending time with Paxton. She didn’t expect him to say Paxton wouldn’t want anything to do with her. She didn’t expect him to imply that she wasn’t good enough for Paxton. Like Ben was doing her some great, big favor by dating her. Once a UN, always a UN, she guessed.

“You know, I came here ready to explain myself, ready to apologize. Maybe you’re right though. Maybe you’re the only one committed to this relationship. God knows, I don’t want to be in a relationship where it’s okay to talk to me like that.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and Devi watched the color drain from his face. “No, Devi, I didn’t mean” —

“You didn’t mean to, not accuse me of cheating on you, but instead, accuse me of so desperately wanting to cheat on you that I would be the lap dog to a different guy?”

Devi really thought Ben deserved an explanation. That was why she went to his house. She realized though, she didn’t owe him anything. Ben had been the constant ignition to Devi’s insecurities. She thought that would stop when they became boyfriend and girlfriend, but no. Instead, he wanted to keep them together by making her feel unwanted by anyone else. She knew better though.

“Devi” —

“You are seriously the textbook ‘nice guy,’ aren’t you?” She air quoted. “Well, I don’t need any of that. I think we’re done here.”

Ben is canceled.

Devi felt oddly satisfied when she sent the text to Fabiola and Eleanor. She thought she would feel guilty after their encounter, but honestly, she felt liberated. Ben had been there for her when no one else was, and he showed that he cared about her. Still, when confronted with the idea that she may want to spend time with someone else, he immediately turned on her. Red flag. Big red flag.

Her friends immediately made plans to have a sleepover at Eleanor’s the following night. They wanted all the details. When Devi happily supplied them, they encouraged her as enthusiastically as she expected.

“Yes, girl,” Eleanor cried, giving her snaps when she told them she wouldn’t let Ben talk to her that way.

“You’re a strong, independent woman, and you don’t need some small little white boy trying to keep you down,” Fabiola bolstered.

“Thanks, guys. That brings me to my next problem though.” And for the first time, she told her friends about when she and Paxton kissed, how her mom had yelled at them the next day and called Paxton stupid, and how he’d left her a voicemail because he’d come to see her while she was in Malibu with her family. They were shocked to say the least.

“So what’s your problem?”

“Wondering exactly how long the pole is that Paxton would touch you with?” Eleanor asked suggestively.

Nope, that is definitely not the issue, Devi thought as she recalled seeing Paxton in his underwear. No, she knew exactly how big a tent that pole could support. The question was, was she misinterpreting their relationship?

“No… I mean, do you think he could like me?”

“Well, he definitely liked you enough to kiss you, but you also chose Ben over him,” Fabiola recapped. “That’s a tough blow.”

“But he wants to spend time with Devi anyway,” Eleanor argued. “I mean, you guys have study sessions almost every afternoon.”

“Right,” Devi trailed off as she considered her encounters with Paxton since she and Ben started dating. How he’d been respectful of her relationship, never once putting Ben down or asking why she had decided to go out with him. She thought about what a good friend he’d been of late with their sessions. She thought about how close she felt to him, and how she wasn’t exaggerating their closeness like she had at the beginning of the school year. She didn’t need to dress up or fabricate the things he said or did to her anymore. Everything was really happening.

“Do you want us to come tomorrow and assess the situation?”

Devi considered Eleanor’s offer, but finally shook her head. “No, I think this is one I have to sort out myself.”

***

“Alright, who coined the term ‘Cold War’ in the British press in October 1954?” Devi asked, looking up at her companion.

“I don’t know… Russia?”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, George Orwell. You’re right, my reputation as a nerd and the best tutor in school is on the line.”

“Shut up, this stuff’s hard. We’re not all Devi Vishwakumar,” he bumped her with his elbow.

“You’re smart too though. How did you know all that stuff about Hinduism or phobias?”

“That’s different. That’s interesting stuff.”

Devi felt her cheeks heat up, and chose to stare at her textbook. Would Paxton find those things interesting if they weren’t directly related to her? Was it his way of saying that she was interesting or important to him? She chanced a glance toward him to see him was also very deliberately staring at his book. She briefly wondered why before he looked up sharply and slapped his knee.

“I guess we have a lot to get through then if we’re going to save your rep. Better get to it.”

“Yeah… for sure,” she said slowly before continuing to quiz him.

A couple hours, some poptarts and pizza rolls later, they had significantly improved Paxton’s knowledge of the subject matter. They both were thrilled with his progress.

“Okay, let’s come full circle,” Devi said. “Who coined the term ‘Cold War?’”

“George Orwell… in the British press… in 1954,” he finished sitting back in his chair confidently.

“Yes! Good job, dude. You picked up on this stuff, no problem!” She smiled.

“Well, you’re a good teacher,” he smiled back, leaning forward.

“You’re a good student,” she told him, biting her bottom lip and leaning forward towards him.

Paxton glanced at her lips briefly before licking his own. She thought, this was it. He was going to kiss her. Instead, Paxton blinked, his eyes staying closed a little longer than normal, and sighed before scooting his chair away from the table.

“Uh.. my parents won’t be home from work for a few hours, and Becca is at a friend’s house if you want to hangout some more,” he suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “We could drag the slip n slide out?”

Devi smiled. “Umm… I think I’m ready for the next challenge.”

“Yeah?” Paxton asked disbelievingly. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I want to try.”

“Alright,” he smiled with a nod. “I’ll get changed and we’ll head out there.”

Once Devi was closed in the bathroom again, she pulled her suit out of her bag. Pink bikini, don’t fail me now.

After a quick change, and plucking any stray hairs, Devi opened the bathroom door to see Paxton waiting on the other side. Her confidence faltered as he took in her appearance. His brow nearly disappeared into his hairline, and she noticed him swallow before exhaling slowly.

“Is this okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, totally okay,” he responded, finally meeting her eye. “I, uh, wanted to walk you out so we could avoid as strong a reaction as last time… We’re in this together, right?”

She nodded, appreciating his support. Together.

It seemed like such a good idea before. Before she was standing in front of a large container filled with water. Water that she would have to submerge herself in.

Already drowning in her own fear, Devi didn’t hear Paxton talking to her until she felt him take her hand.

“Hey, Devi,” he called, waving his other hand in her face. “Can you hear me?”

She blinked longer than usual to clear her head before finding his gaze again. “Yeah, sorry. I was just spiraling.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this right now. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I know,” she nodded, licking her lips apprehensively. “I want to do this. You won’t leave me, right?”

He smiled. “We’re in this together, Vishwakumar.”

With that, she carefully made her way up the steps, and stepped into the hot water. Paxton held her hand the whole way. The best part of using the hot tub? The heat further distracted her from her fear that she didn’t even realize Paxton was touching her for a moment. It wasn’t until she was sitting down and should have been relaxing that her anxiety began to spike again.

“Hey, breathe, okay? I’m right here,” Paxton’s hand slipped from hers to wrap around her shoulders.

Without thinking, without meaning to, Devi dropped her head into the crook of Paxton’s neck. Her arms clung to his waist desperately, willing her breathing to level out. She felt Paxton’s other arm come around to encircle her, and it had the very calming effect she assumed he intended. As her breathing returned to a normal pace, Devi found she felt almost sleepy. She felt warm, not because of the water, but inside. It was like her body was humming, like everything was fuzzy. She let out a deep sigh of relief, and felt Paxton shift slightly against her.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. She wondered if he could feel how peaceful things were in that moment. No, he probably just wanted to make sure she hadn’t passed out.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “This helps.”

“Yeah? Like watching me helps?”

“I can’t explain it, and I know it doesn’t make any sense especially because I’m such a disaster when we talk,” she rambled before taking a steadying breath, “but watching you, touching you, calms me down.”

Paxton took a shaky breath, and Devi pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, cheeks flushed. She loved seeing him like this. Vulnerable, as though she affected him as much as he affected her. This time, she thought, I’ll kiss him.

Before Devi could lean forward, Paxton abruptly put space between them. One hand remained on her shoulder, but his head was hanging his eyes were closed.

“Devi,” he started before letting out a long sigh, “I am trying so hard. I mean, I love spending time with you and I want to be here for you. I want to be a good friend to you, but you’re killing me.”

“What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” he replied emphatically. “I don’t really know why, but you do. And all this,” he gestured between them, “feels a lot like cheating, and I’m not down for it.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” the words came tumbling out, “no, no, no. No, that’s on me. Paxton” —

“Devi, I like you,” he cut her off. “Not in the ‘I want to reinstate our sex agreement’ way, but like, I really like you. I hate studying! But you make it fun. I love the way you spit out that first five thoughts that pop into your head at any given moment. I love that you trust me to tell me your deepest fear that no one else knows, and I love that we’ve been able to work through it together. I don’t know if I can do this anymore though.”

“Sorry I didn’t interrupt, you really seemed like you were on a roll, but,” she paused to take another deep breath, “I don’t… have a boyfriend anymore.”

“What?”

“Things are different now. I broke up with Ben two days ago, and… I really like you too. I never wanted just sex from you. I just never thought we’d be here right now.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head, shyly looking down at the water. Her bottom lip found it’s way between her teeth, barely suppressing her smile. She felt his hand slip from her shoulder and snake it’s way around her waist. She looked up as he pulled her body into his so close that their breath mingled.

“Should we make another toast?” She asked nervously.

His forehead pressed against hers as he laughed. When he regained his composure, he looked in her eyes warmly. “Later.”

And for the second time, Paxton Hall-Yoshida’s lips were on hers, and it. was. electric. Somehow, it was even better than the first time. She felt everything else melt away, and it was just the two of them floating through space. Nothing else mattered for that moment. She wasn’t sure when she ended up in his lap, but she wound her arms around his neck all the same before her hands found his curly hair. Under other circumstances, she may have worried that her own hair had become so frizzy that he wouldn’t find her attractive. She realized though, she didn’t have to worry about that. No, as Paxton gripped her hips tighter, she knew very well that he was attracted to her.

This was everything she ever wanted, except it was better. Paxton’s hand came up to cradle her face as his tongue massaged hers in a way that made her spine tingle. Devi was so engrossed in having the greatest moment of her life, she didn’t hear the back door open.

“Wooooo!” Becca hollered as they jumped apart. “Finally!”

“Becca, get out of here!” Paxton yelled, splashing his sister. She laughed, making a comment about being safe as she went back inside.

“So… your sister’s home,” Devi said. They sat awkwardly for a moment before both breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, mood ruined, I guess.”

“Well, I know one thing: this is the happiest I’ve felt in any body of water in a year.”

He huffed out a laugh, eyes finding his lap before meeting her gaze again. “Happy to help.”

<< Part 2

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Part Eleven - Them)

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation 6. Rescue Site 7. Investigation 8. Recovery 9. Retreat 10. Capture 11. Them

Some reveal in this one, lots of worry and some discovery. John is not a happy boy.

As always, many thanks to @scribbles97​​ @janetm74​​ @vegetacide​​ and @tsarinatorment​​ for all their amazing support. you guys rock ::hugs you to bits::

Tonight is a bit of a posting night. I will be posting the last chapter of The Cane shortly as soon as I finish proofing it :D Yay, for finishing things :D Callisto is currently at 45,000 words.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one.

-o-o-o-

Alan was out of his pod, screaming Scott’s name, but his brother was gone. The water as still as before.

“Alan! Status!” John’s voice was as panicked as Alan had ever heard it.

“Scott’s gone.” He dashed over to Virgil. His big brother was crumpled in a heap. In the low gravity, Scott’s shove had been enough to throw him up against the rock wall. “John, I need you.”

“FAB.”

Virgil was unconscious.

Again.

A quick scan and his vitals were good. There would be bruising ...as if his brother needed more. But there was nothing broken, thank god.

A scan of the still unconscious director proved her to be stable as well.

He shifted Virgil into a safer recovery position.

“Eos, can we scan the lake?” He eyed where his big brother had vanished.

“No. I can get no data beyond approximately ten metres below the surface. It is very frustrating.”

Alan continued to stare at the surface and its glass stillness. “Can you locate Scott?”

“John has already pinpointed the Commander. He has joined the other life form below the lake’s surface. There is no comms response from the Commander.” The AI managed to sound both worried and frustrated.

“Are there any other life signs in the area?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a pause. “There is no life as defined by the search parameters programmed into Thunderbird Five’s sensors on the moon beyond what has already been accounted for by International Rescue and Callisto Base personnel. Did you wish me to change those parameters?”

Alan swallowed as the third dragonfly buzzed into the cave. “ I think we’re going to have to. There is something down here.”

-o-o-o-

“We can’t leave him!”

“We’re not leaving him, Alan. We need to get the director and Virgil back to base.”

“But Scott-“

“He’s alive. We will do everything we can, but first we need medical attention for Virgil and the Director and to gather more information to better understand what we are dealing with.”

Virgil groaned and dragged a hand to his face. There was an oxygen mask in all its cold and moist glory and he shoved it off.

The elastic caught in his hair.

“Virgil!”

The pounding in his head was so loud, he could barely hear above it. There were hurried footsteps and someone ...Alan, it had to be Alan...touched his arm.

“Virgil, are you with us?” John’s melodious voice appeared on his other side and echoed through his aching head.

“You gonna open your eyes for us?” Alan sounded worried.

Open his eyes? Oh, yeah. A flicker and suddenly his retinas were assailed by the red of Three’s tiny infirmary.

A sigh. What the hell had happened now?

God, his head hurt.

“Alan, get us back to Base.” John’s voice was calm and quiet but had that tone of command.

There was quiet for a moment as the infirmary walls faded in and out of focus, roiling Virgil’s stomach.

A sigh and his little brother acknowledged John with an exhaled FAB before leaving Virgil’s bedside with soft footfalls.

Hands strapped him into the bed, fingers brushing gently across the surface of his uniform before landing ever so softly on his temple. “Rest, Virgil.” His hair was brushed off his forehead, the fine grip on John’s glove catching strands. “You’re safe.”

Virgil let out a sigh and closed his eyes, willing his head to stop pounding.

Perhaps it was a sign of the severity of whatever had happened to him, that he didn’t realise there was a voice and a touch missing until he was caught in the spiral of pain-induced exhaustion.

The question of a missing big brother followed him into an uneasy sleep.

-o-o-o-

Berry for his eldest son.

It was an exchange Jeff wasn’t sure he was willing to make.

But the thought was arrested before he could consider it further, knowing that Scott would admonish him for even thinking it.

But in the depths of his soul, the father in him was screaming.

Berry was off loaded from Three and onto the gantry, quickly followed by an equally prone Virgil. His engineer son was only asleep according to John, but with Scott missing, Jeff found himself clinging to his second eldest regardless.

The automatic cams on the Dragonflies had picked up what had happened. It was blatantly obvious there was something with purpose at work, something not human, possibly sentient.

The word ‘aliens’ bounced back and forth in his head.

Virgil was returned to the spot in the infirmary he had left barely an hour ago. Gordon sitting on the bed Jeff had restricted him to, stared at his co-pilot with worried eyes. Alan, equally as worried, sat down beside his fish brother and Gords wrapped his good arm around him.

Virgil was ever so quiet.

Berry was surrounded by the Base doctors, a curtain pulled around her bed, hiding her from the rest of them.

Jeff had the urge to shove it all aside and demand answers.

John had an IR medscanner out and was scanning his brother again. He spoke up without Jeff having to ask. “He’s sleeping.” It was a repetition of the earlier diagnosis, but it was welcome anyway.

A frown and the astronaut narrowed the scanner’s beam, prodding its controls and bringing it closer to Virgil’s head.

“What is it?”

John’s voice was calm, but distracted. “Director Berrenger has some ear damage. Virgil...” Another prod of the device. “Damn.”

“What?” Jeff took a step closer.

But John stopped scanning his brother, adjusted the controls and then ran the medscanner over his own head. Frowning at the readings, he activated his wrist ‘projector and swiped the results to that display.

The two scans bobbed up side by side, close up details of Virgil and John’s auditory systems.

“Virgil has had a headache since he arrived. We thought it was related to the T-Drive. But it appears that he has been subjected to some kind ear injury.”

Gordon spoke up. “He got dizzy.”

John frowned and poked at the hologram, spinning it. The frown deepened a moment before the astronaut suddenly darted around the bed and aimed the scanner at Gordon’s head.

“What? What the hell are you doing?”

“Hold still.”

A flicker of yellow and John obviously got what he was looking for. A breath and he aimed the scanner at Alan’s head as well.

His sigh was a frustrated one. “We are all exhibiting signs of ear irritation, but Virgil’s is by far the worst. Dad?”

Jeff blinked as John waved the device over his head. His son’s glare at the scanner was almost enough to incinerate it.

John slapped his comms. “Eos, land the probe closest to the Crystal Cavern. I need physical contact with the rock. Activate mic input, scan the spectrum.”

“FAB.”

It took a few moments and Jeff found himself absently stroking Virgil’s hair.

“Contact made. Scanning...oh, my!”

“Let me hear it.” John was wired ever so tight, eyes on fire.

“Input is being received at a very high volume, but at a very high frequency far above the human ability to hear. Translating.”

The sound that emitted from John’s comms was a very loud discordant screeching. Everyone in the room clapped their hands to their ears. A nurse attending to Berry shoved aside a curtain and shouted at them, as John yelled at Eos to stop.

“What the hell is that?!” Gordon, as always, voiced what everyone was thinking.

John was already bouncing program variables over his wrist. “That is what we need to find out.”

-o-o-o-

It turned out it was the moon itself.

Jeff sat with Virgil as his son slept, unable to relax himself. Alan intermittently gnashed his teeth fretting out loud what all of them were thinking. Scott was missing and it tore at all of them.

Virgil slept on.

John could only be described as frantic. The space monitor swore a blue streak that had Jeff snapping at him at one point. The man’s response was throw up a hologram on his tablet that mapped out the sounds being emitted by Callisto.

It was like a nest of spiderweb laced around and through the rock of the Jovian satellite. Pockets of density existed in places along with patches of less. John reached up and poked a spot that was slightly different from the rest, but still drenched in lines.

“This is Callisto Base.”

“And what is that?” Jeff pointed at the fine lines darting all over the moon.

John sighed. “My guess is that we are looking at a communications network.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “Who is communicating?”

“Unknown. There are no unaccounted life forms on this moon. Not life as we know it.”

“What about life as we don’t know it?”

“We’re working on it.”

Next question. “How did we miss it?” The moon was literally shouting loud enough to injure.

John deflated on the spot, obviously considering the lapse a failure on his part. “Sound requires matter to travel through. Thunderbird Five is not equipped to detect it unless we have something in contact with the atmosphere or a mic in play.”

“We have mics in our comms.” But Jeff knew the answer before his son supplied it.

“The frequencies are beyond usual pick up range. Far too high.”

“What about Virgil?”

John wilted. “I don’t know, Dad. Why is he affected more than the rest of us? Hell, why aren’t the colonists showing symptoms?”

Jeff frowned at that. “Why aren’t they? They’ve been here for years.”

“I can’t see how they could not be affected. We’ve only been here a short time and we are showing the effects.”

Something cold curdled in Jeff’s gut. A sudden suspicion roiled to the surface. “Leave that one to me.” He threw himself to his feet.

“Dad?” Aquamarine frowned at him.

“I’ll get some answers.”

-o-o-o-

His head was hammering both in dream and, as he rose to consciousness, in reality. “Oh god.” Virgil rolled over clutching his head and curled into a ball.

“Virgil?”

Alan? He clenched his eyes shut, hands gripping his hair.

“Virgil?” The softer more melodious voice of his older space brother. “Hold on.”

There were words not directed at him and Virgil must have faded out again because next he knew he was flat on his back and the pain had been reduced to a pale echo of itself, replaced with a light fog.

Someone was holding his hand.

“Scott?” It came out hoarse and barely there.

“Virgil, you with us?”

Alan. It was Alan. His little brother.

Rocket boy.

God, his head was sluggish.

“Alan? Where’s Scott?” He forced his eyes open and blinked against the light. Another groan and he moved on the bed, his body aching and stiff as if he had been in the same position for an eon. “What happened?”

Another slow blink and his memory landed in Crystal Cave and rescuing Director Berrenger, and then…pain and nothing.

“Ummm…Scott’s not here. Lemme get John.” There was the sound of an active comm and Alan calling for his big brother.

Huh?

“Where’s Gordon?”

“Asleep.” Alan pointed at the blue curtain beside them. “Dad had a go at him for not resting. Threatened to send him up to Five if he didn’t try to sleep.”

Oh, just fantastic. “What about you? Have you slept?” How long had Virgil been down for the count?

“I’m good. Been helping John detect aliens.”

“Aliens? What aliens?” Frowning shouldn’t hurt like this.

“Virgil, you’re awake.” John’s melodious voice was a welcome balm despite the fact it was stating the obvious.

“John.” Virgil tried to sit up, but a gentle hand halted him. A pair of aquamarine eyes telling him more than any words. “What happened? Where’s Scott?” Scott should be here. He was always here.

John sat down beside Virgil’s bed deliberately and quietly.

Oh god. “What happened?” Virgil pushed himself into a seated position despite his brother, determined to face whatever had happened…not lying down.

“Scott is okay, as far as we can tell.”

“As far as you can tell?”

John’s lips thinned and his eyes screamed apology before he activated his wrist comm and showed Virgil footage from the dragonfly cam that caught exactly what happened.

Virgil stared as his brother sacrificed himself to save him.

The expletive that fell from his lips was sharp and vulgar.

He pushed the fog in his head to one side and forced himself to focus. “I need details.” He shoved the covers off his legs.

A blink.

“And clothes.”

-o-o-o-

Jeff stared the Commander of Callisto Base down, every ounce of his height, every piece of history they held together. “What haven’t you told us?”

“Have you located Ju yet?” The shorter man set his shoulders and glared up at Jeff.

“We have discovered that there is likely another form of life on this moon. Were you aware of this?”

Graeme blinked. “Life? What?”

“My eldest son was captured by the same mechanism that likely caught your wife. My second eldest has taken ill with the effects of strong ultra-frequency sound. These sounds appear to envelope this moon. Are you trying to tell me, that with all your scientific staff and equipment, supplied by Tracy Industries, no less, you have yet to encounter this problem after inhabiting this base for over five years?” Jeff inched closer. “Think before you answer.” The threat was clear.

Graeme swallowed. “There was Jeremiah, but we thought that was an isolated case.”

“Jeremiah?”

“One of our geologists. Took ill, nausea, headaches, nothing we did helped. Are you telling me he died of exposure to sound?”

Jeff’s eyes narrowed as his heart lurched. “He died?”

Graeme’s eyes grew frantic as the dots connected. “Stroke. The doctors said it was stroke. I was going to ask you to take his body home to his family when you left.”

Jeff’s lips thinned ever so much more. “Anyone else?”

“Uh.” The man was obviously floundering and cursing himself at the same time. “There have been instances of nausea, dizziness and headache, but nothing as bad as Jeremiah. We put it down to long term low gravity and the environment. We are living on the edge of human experience out here. You know what that is like.” He stared up at Jeff. “What kind of life? Have you seen it?” A swallow. “What about Ju?”

What about, Scott? “We’re working on it. We hope to have more information once Berry wakes up.” They needed so many answers.

-o-o-o-

John glared at Virgil, but his idiot brother was as determined as any of them would be in the same situation. John dreaded what would happen when their father returned.

There was going to be hell to pay.

Virgil was given his uniform and Alan was scooted out of the closed curtained area. John refused to move and earned a glare for his efforts, but there was no way he was leaving Virgil on his own in this state, stupid determination or not.

Dad was going to kill all of them.

The rainbow of bruises across Virgil’s back as he threw off the hospital gown their father had so painstakingly helped the nurses dress him in hours earlier only served to impress on John the fact that this was ever so wrong.

“Virgil, please give yourself more time.”

“Scott doesn’t have time.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s been kidnapped by goddamned aliens, John. I’ve seen enough sci-fi flicks to know where that leads.”

“I don’t think we need a Ripley in this case, Virgil.”

His brother yanked spacesuit onto his legs. “How do you know that? You haven’t even located the bugs yet.”

“I doubt they are bugs, Virgil.” With a sigh, he reached in and helped his brother pull his spacesuit up over his shoulders, not missing any of the multiple winces at the action. “In fact, I think they might be the crystals.”

Virgil turned to look at him. “The quartz?”

“Yes.”

“How? It reads as silicon dioxide.”

“I know. Thunderbird Five is not the USS Enterprise. We’re doing our best here.” John lowered Virgil’s red and green baldric over his shoulders, ever so gently letting it rest on what he knew were bruises.

This was madness. “You should stay in bed. You’ve been affected more than any of us. Long term exposure to ultrasound can be life threatening. Please, Virgil.”

His brother turned around, ever the rescue operative, the uniform wearing him rather than the other way around. “And what about Scott?”

“Let me, Virgil, please. We have Dad and Lee. You need rest.”

Dark eyes met his. “With Scott down, I’m in command. It is my duty to lead.”

“Virgil, this is not a military organisation and you are not a soldier.”

“No, I’m a Tracy.” With that, he threw aside the curtain and strode out.

John sighed. First Dad, and then Scott, when they found him.

Yes, there was going to be hell to pay.

-o-o-o-

The woman on the bed was an echo of the team mate he used to know. So much time had passed between them and, as it was always with time, it took as it left.

Berry’s hair was fading to white. Her skin had been kept relatively young by the lack of sun in her life. After all, it was a six to nine hundred odd million further kilometres away out here. But there was a frailness, nonetheless.

She seemed so small against the white of the pillow and bedsheets. Lacking the vivacity he knew she possessed.

“Kate?” He swallowed. She couldn’t hear him. Two broken ear drums would do that. He reached out a hand and gently nudged her shoulder.

He was relieved to see those familiar green eyes open and look up at him.

“Hey.” His voice broke just a little.

“Jeff?” Those eyes widened. And suddenly, before he could react, he was wrapped in eager arms holding him ever so tight. “Oh, Jeff. You came.”

“Could I do anything else?” But her arms were still around him. She couldn’t see his face. Couldn’t hear his words.

He found himself hugging her ever so tight back.

But he had to break it off. He needed information.

A gentle nudge and she relaxed back onto the bed, frowning up at him in worry.

Grabbing a tablet, he typed in the question and held it up for her to see. What happened?

“They caught us. The water kept us trapped. Couldn’t get out. Nga and Steve and then Chrisoula. They killed them. Trying to do something.” Her breathing elevated and for a moment there, Jeff feared he had lost her to whatever she was remembering.

He shook her shoulder gently, bringing her eyes back to him. Fingers on the tablet. Sound. They use sound.

She nodded and then closed her eyes as if in pain, a hand going to her head.

He squeezed her shoulder again. “Take it easy.”

A blink and he realised she knew he had said something but not what. He hastily tapped the words into the tablet.

She sighed as she read them, melting a little into the bed. “Where’s Ju?”

I was hoping you would be able to help us with that.

Realising what he meant, her lips thinned and her shoulders straightened a little on the bed.

“She’s still out there?”

He nodded.

“Damn.”

There’s a possibility your release was either an attempt at communication or a ruse to trap one of our operatives.

“Operatives?”

International Rescue.

“Your sons are here? To rescue us?”

That’s the plan.

She blinked a lot at that, moisture in her eyes, her lips twisting a little. “Thank you, Jeff.”

It’s what they do.

They. His own words struck home as he looked at the tablet.

A hand scratched gently at his arm, drawing his attention back to Berry.

“They kept us in a room made of water. The walls were continually moving, like a waterfall that never stopped. But with our lights we could see through it.” She blinked, eyes again focussing away from him, seeing something he couldn’t. “In the room, the floor was bare rock except for one of those crystal formations. Just one. But in the water outside, there was crystal everywhere.” She looked at him. “It’s the crystals, you know? They’re alive.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

[jerseydeanne]

William is quietly winning the battle of the royal brothers - Their responses to Bashir revelations are as different as they are as people, but we knew they would be

It must frustrate Prince Harry that his own popularity has become so obviously inversely proportional to his brother’s. They had a highly competitive relationship before Harry and Meghan decided to throw a grenade under the Queen and the Royal family in favour of earning Kardashian cash in the US. It often appeared that a large part of the Sussexes’ beef with the monarchy was that they constantly felt in the Cambridges’ shadow. Yet their bid to seek “financial independence” in California has cast them completely in the shade in the minds of the majority of Brits, many of whom would prefer it if they disappeared from view altogether. The more they have accused the “racist” Royal family of “total neglect”, the more they have succeeded in encouraging the British public to throw their support behind the institution – as shown by a YouGov poll last week finding six in 10 people want them to be stripped of their titles or to stop using them. The better William and Kate perform, the worse Harry and Meghan look for breaking up the Fab Four in the first place. The Yanks might not see it like this, but we do because, unlike naive Americans prone to endless psychobabble, we were never under any illusions about the dysfunctionality at the heart of the Royal family (or any family, for that matter). In his latest outpouring for his new Apple TV documentary series, Harry voiced his resentment at being told to “play the game” to make life easier in the House of Windsor. “I’ve got a hell of a lot of my mum in me,” he boasted. “The only way to free yourself and break out is to tell the truth. ”Yet, ironically, the one person in The Firm who “played the game” better than anyone else was Diana, Princess of Wales. That was until she took the disastrous decision to pour her heart out to deceitful Martin Bashir – albeit under what we now know were false pretences. By continuing to stoke the flames of publicity with his smug, self-pitying and at times, spiteful rhetoric, Harry shows he has actually learned nothing from his mother’s experience. For in trying to emulate her doe-eyed confessionals to speak his “truth”, he is repeating her mistake of squandering popularity for the sake of evening the score. While there’s no doubting Harry’s noble intentions in wanting to raise awareness of mental health issues – let’s make no mistake here, like Diana deciding to air her dirty linen on the BBC, this is a man out for vengeance. With his team of officious LA-based PRs and unwillingness to appear on any platform that actually offers a right of reply to the people he trashes, he’s hypocritically playing his own, one-sided games. Exactly like his mother at her lowest ebb, Harry seems to think the world is out to get him. Yet far from it being personal, there is a word for what has happened to him over the years. It’s called “life”. While he was a 12-year-old walking behind his mother’s coffin in 1997, there were literally hundreds and thousands of other children also coming to terms with the loss of a parent. Around the same time, I was a teenager, scraping my alcoholic mother off the pavement. As any therapist worth their salt will tell him – you can either hold onto the past and let it dictate your future, or let go and truly “find your freedom”. William has had to endure exactly the same fate as Harry. In fact, as the elder brother and “heir” rather than “spare” it has arguably been even more difficult for him. As his dignified statement on Thursday night made clear, he vividly remembers “the fear, paranoia and isolation” of his mother’s final years. It was his shoulder upon which she cried about the breakdown of her marriage. It was he who promised her, after she lost the HRH style, that he would “give it back to you one day when I am king. ”As the child of divorced parents myself, I know all too well that while every child is adversely affected, the oldest is often at the coalface, shouldering most of the burden. Despite this, and having to come to terms with being tethered to a life mapped out at birth,

William

has borrowed from the best of his mother’s playbook. He has resolved to serve others, rather than himself. Instead of growing up to resent the rules of the game, he has used them to his advantage, realising – as all the best royals do – that it is never really about “them”, but about “us”. Unlike Harry, who has misinterpreted the Queen’s “never complain, never explain” mantra as a gagging clause – William has used it as it was intended, as a protection order to ensure the lines between the professional and the personal do not become too blurred. Like the mute button on Twitter, he has silenced his critics not by taking them on, but keeping calm and carrying on regardless. And in stark contrast to his brother, William has shown he understands the press as well as Diana did. By actually reading the newspapers (rather than obsessing over the online comments like Harry), the second-in-line to the throne has come to the sensible conclusion that the media, while imperfect, can be used as a considerable force for good. While his brother was using Lord Dyson’s report as a stick with which to once again beat the tabloid press, William was mature enough to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the newspapers, Bashir would have got away with his rogue reporting for even longer. “Public service broadcasting and a free press have never been more important,” he magnanimously declared. Harry’s nonsense claim that “practices like these – and even worse – are still widespread today” only serves to highlight just how unqualified he is to act as referee on matters as serious as the First Amendment, which he described as “bonkers” on a recent podcast. Both these royal brothers are playing a game – but only one of them is winning.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2021/05/21/william-quietly-winning-battle-royal-brothers/

[causeiwanttoandican]

The Telegraph - Camilla Tominey

William is quietly winning the battle of the royal brothers

Their responses to Bashir revelations are as different as they are as people, but we knew they would be

Camilla Tominey21 May 2021 • 8:00pm

It must frustrate Prince Harry that his own popularity has become so obviously inversely proportional to his brother’s. They had a highly competitive relationship before Harry and Meghan decided to throw a grenade under the Queen and the Royal family in favour of earning Kardashian cash in the US. It often appeared that a large part of the Sussexes’ beef with the monarchy was that they constantly felt in the Cambridges’ shadow.

Yet their bid to seek “financial independence” in California has cast them completely in the shade in the minds of the majority of Brits, many of whom would prefer it if they disappeared from view altogether.

The more they have accused the “racist” Royal family of “total neglect”, the more they have succeeded in encouraging the British public to throw their support behind the institution – as shown by a YouGov poll last week finding six in 10 people want them to be stripped of their titles or to stop using them.

The better William and Kate perform, the worse Harry and Meghan look for breaking up the Fab Four in the first place. The Yanks might not see it like this, but we do because, unlike naive Americans prone to endless psychobabble, we were never under any illusions about the dysfunctionality at the heart of the Royal family (or any family, for that matter).

In his latest outpouring for his new Apple TV documentary series, Harry voiced his resentment at being told to “play the game” to make life easier in the House of Windsor.

“I’ve got a hell of a lot of my mum in me,” he boasted. “The only way to free yourself and break out is to tell the truth.”

Yet, ironically, the one person in The Firm who “played the game” better than anyone else was Diana, Princess of Wales. That was until she took the disastrous decision to pour her heart out to deceitful Martin Bashir – albeit under what we now know were false pretences.

By continuing to stoke the flames of publicity with his smug, self-pitying and at times, spiteful rhetoric, Harry shows he has actually learned nothing from his mother’s experience.

For in trying to emulate her doe-eyed confessionals to speak his “truth”, he is repeating her mistake of squandering popularity for the sake of evening the score. While there’s no doubting Harry’s noble intentions in wanting to raise awareness of mental health issues – let’s make no mistake here, like Diana deciding to air her dirty linen on the BBC, this is a man out for vengeance.

With his team of officious LA-based PRs and unwillingness to appear on any platform that actually offers a right of reply to the people he trashes, he’s hypocritically playing his own, one-sided games.

Exactly like his mother at her lowest ebb, Harry seems to think the world is out to get him.

Yet far from it being personal, there is a word for what has happened to him over the years. It’s called “life”.

While he was a 12-year-old walking behind his mother’s coffin in 1997, there were literally hundreds and thousands of other children also coming to terms with the loss of a parent.

Around the same time, I was a teenager, scraping my alcoholic mother off the pavement. As any therapist worth their salt will tell him – you can either hold onto the past and let it dictate your future, or let go and truly “find your freedom”.

William has had to endure exactly the same fate as Harry. In fact, as the elder brother and “heir” rather than “spare” it has arguably been even more difficult for him.

As his dignified statement on Thursday night made clear, he vividly remembers “the fear, paranoia and isolation” of his mother’s final years. It was his shoulder upon which she cried about the breakdown of her marriage.

It was he who promised her, after she lost the HRH style, that he would “give it back to you one day when I am king.”

As the child of divorced parents myself, I know all too well that while every child is adversely affected, the oldest is often at the coalface, shouldering most of the burden.

Despite this, and having to come to terms with being tethered to a life mapped out at birth, William has borrowed from the best of his mother’s playbook.

He has resolved to serve others, rather than himself. Instead of growing up to resent the rules of the game, he has used them to his advantage, realising – as all the best royals do – that it is never really about “them”, but about “us”.

Unlike Harry, who has misinterpreted the Queen’s “never complain, never explain” mantra as a gagging clause – William has used it as it was intended, as a protection order to ensure the lines between the professional and the personal do not become too blurred.

Like the mute button on Twitter, he has silenced his critics not by taking them on, but keeping calm and carrying on regardless. And in stark contrast to his brother, William has shown he understands the press as well as Diana did.

By actually reading the newspapers (rather than obsessing over the online comments like Harry), the second-in-line to the throne has come to the sensible conclusion that the media, while imperfect, can be used as a considerable force for good.

While his brother was using Lord Dyson’s report as a stick with which to once again beat the tabloid press, William was mature enough to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the newspapers, Bashir would have got away with his rogue reporting for even longer.

“Public service broadcasting and a free press have never been more important,” he magnanimously declared. Harry’s nonsense claim that “practices like these – and even worse – are still widespread today” only serves to highlight just how unqualified he is to act as referee on matters as serious as the First Amendment, which he described as “bonkers” on a recent podcast.

Both these royal brothers are playing a game – but only one of them is winning.

[messrsrarchives]

You had an I am bored list-and I own a new favourite thing I can tell you about!

I read Clandestine (such a good fic) did much crying, got crazy brave for a measly Hufflepuff, and bought a binder.

Now most of what I’ve seen/read about binders was all along the lines of “super uncomfortable” and “rib destruction” and some of it is likely honest gripes about the inconvenience of the things, and a little of it was perhaps a bit scaremongery. It put me off for a while. (That and the internalised nonsense my brain generates about me saying I’m nonbinary out loud)

But nobody mentioned that they are MAGIC. What do you mean that’s ME standing there?! Like actually me not the version that’s made me feel moderately sick since I was like 12 and getting cat called on the way home from school. I wore T-shirts and they looked right. I’ve been saying for YEARS it’s like my head doesn’t belong attached to the rest of me-and suddenly someone reattached me. I just stood there staring for HOURS. And I have pots so prolonged standing is an achievement. I didn’t want to take it off. I did because safety but…I cannot wait to wear it out. I can be perceived by other humans like this! I want to send whoever invented them chocolate.

Anyway tldr: binders are excellent, actually, fandom is a great place to figure out how to be brave, and gender euphoria is quite the experience.

I wish you luck surviving the lecture of boredom! Please take this brain spark just in case 💡 and thanks for being a wonderful person of the world of fandom! -RebelWriter99 (Skye the dog’s human)

AHHH STOP I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU 😭😭😭😭 so real as well for fics being a wakeup call, i'm still waiting on one to tell me what my sexuality is 🙏🙏

MAGIC!! MAGIC!! they're also not *meant* to be as uncomfortable as people say, like i was SUFFERING when i started until i found one that fit properly and actually followed the guidelines. still not fab because yk, compression. but shouldn't be painful ! psa to all of you x

I'M SO HAPPY. so happy right now. i'm so glad you get to experience this and i hope this is the first of many steps to you feeling free and comfortable 🫂🫂🫂

[chaos-in-bright-pink-hair-dye]

There was no redemption arc for Korse in the comics

I legitimately wrote a 600 words long essay on this so I will put it under the cut

I've been thinking about any logical reason for why Korse didn't kill The fabulous four right in Na Na Na the whole day and what I realized is that contrary to popular belief I don't think that him helping destroy BL/ind was really out of character or some kind of redemption arc as it might seem. And before you all stone me or write me off as mentally done please let me try to explain myself.

So let's start from the beginning, Korse literally had the best chance to kill the fab four there and then, all of them lying unconscious on the ground right at his feet, it couldn't be easier. Even when he had them lined up in front of him just one good headshot could do it and considering how close they were, shooting them pretty much anywhere in the body would ensure that they won't pick themselves up ever again. So why were they able to waltz away completely uninjured?

The first thought that could cross your mind is that it's BL/ind's tactic and yeah at first I thought that too but why would BL/ind need to do that? Okay it's great way to scare the citizens when you say that the most feared Killjoys came into the city and killed who knows how many dracs and everyone will salute you for stopping such a threat. But! And this is a big ‘but!’, normal citizen probably doesn't really know what's going on outside of the walls so why not kill the Killjoys in the middle of the desert, throw the bodies in the trunk and wave them in everyone's face and you'll get the exact same result. Plus, you wouldn't risk the Killjoys actually somehow succeeding and hurting BL/ind or freeing the Girl as they actually did. So, to close this part I don't think that The fabulous four surviving the events of Na Na Na was part of BL/ind’s super evil plan but rather Korse not really personally caring that much or being invested enough to bother by killing them.

Now to the comics, in the beginning Korse was obviously happily carrying on with his job as an exterminator and except some small problems with lower body count nothing had really changed. He was still going around, shooting a killjoy here and there to get by except his tactic kind of stopped working but that’s not really our problem. The moment he snaped was when they killed his lover and there at that moment it got personal, suddenly BL/ind hurting people started affecting him too and it wasn’t just shooting random kids he’d never seen before, exactly there at the moment they hurt him too and that’s why he turned against BL/ind.

He spent years cooperating with BL/ind and doing what they wanted because it brought him a roof over his head, food and relative safety and that was good enough for him. And he would happily continue helping them if they hadn’t made it personal, from then on it wasn’t practical or useful in any way for him to live on their leash pretending to love them so he took the chance of a revolution already happening and just hoped onto the wave for an easy ride.

So in conclusion I’m not saying that Korse is a good person or that anyone should like him and definitely not that he’s a well written character, what I’m saying is that Korse is extremely selfish person and everything he’s done perfectly fits and plays into it, from not killing The fabulous killjoys straight away because it wouldn’t really bring him any profit straight to helping t destroy BL/ind.

Thank you for reading and I would love to hear you opinion.

And if you still think I'm out of my mind and want to stone me? Well is there really anything I can do to stop you? Probably not

[panharmonium]

you can be my ride or die: a staggeringly long essay about a deceptively short appearance

(aka, pan’s personal depository of notes about prince william of ealdor.)

now that my fic is long since done and posted, i can finally transfer this monster piece of meta out of my google docs and onto my blog, where it can serve as an unasked-for, absurdly detailed, beginning-to-end analysis of my obscure fave.

(whose line ‘yeah, and i’m prince william, of ealdor’ is still the funniest damn shit i’ve ever heard and also the most shocking burn arthur has ever received; i hope he thinks of it sometimes and remembers that humility is a virtue)

(the BRISTLING DISRESPECT!  the ZERO FUCKS GIVEN!  i love him!  please can someone else talk to arthur like this!  he needs it!)

disclaimer before we begin: i wrote this over a year ago, as a character check for myself during the very early stages of working on my fic.  i kept messily adding bits to it over the course of a couple weeks as i explored what i knew about this character and who i understood him to be, but at the time, i didn’t intend on posting it; it was just prep work for my own story-making.  it’s still essentially just a record of my train of thought as i pieced this character together - i’ve cleaned it up a bit now and added some recent links to make it more coherent, but it was never meant to be a posted essay, just a collection of notes for myself.  

be forewarned, it is more comprehensive than the things i’ve written about this character since, and it goes on for years.  if you are not interested in many, many pages of super heavy in-depth musings about a character who appeared in one episode, now is the time to scroll on by.  i promise i won’t mind in the slightest; i wrote this for my own purposes and don’t really expect people to read it - i’m posting it just to have it archived with the rest of my merlin stuff.

if you are interested in that sort of thing, however - hit the jump, and off we go!

i really love the episode where we meet will, though i’ve started to love it for new reasons since the first time i watched it.

the first time i watched season 1, 'the moment of truth’ was my favorite S1 episode overall, because it was the first time the Fab Four went off on an adventure together, and that was very exciting; and i also loved it because all the character stuff in that episode was so good; and i also loved it because look, all of us are suckers for that classic seven samurai plot, you know - i loved it in TCW, i loved it in the mandalorian, i loved it in merlin.  not gonna get bored of ‘simple farmers defend their homes with pitchforks’ anytime soon.  it is overall just a solid, self-contained plot with clear emotional arcs, and it sticks its landing well.  it’s a simple, strong story.

nowadays, though, i also love it because of will.

i. will whomst?

prince william of ealdor, that’s who!

will straddles a kind of weird place in canon, because he feels like a minor character to the audience but is very much not a minor character for merlin, who has known will much longer than the brief hour we get to spend with him and who has spent his entire life with will as his sole friend.

but, because will only appears once - let’s start with a round-up.  what do we actually know about him?

he’s a peasant farmer from ealdor, like merlin

his father was killed fighting for king cenred (as a foot soldier - these people are not wealthy enough or high-status enough to afford or be accepted into the knighthood)

his mother is either dead or absent

he’s painfully class conscious and doesn’t trust the nobility

he’s a “troublemaker” (the interpretation of which is...well, it’s left to the viewer’s discretion.  fandom seems to jump to ‘fun mischief and pranks,’ though i personally don’t get that vibe from this episode.  “troublemaker” in will’s case seems to mean more “doesn’t know how to keep his head down/can’t go along to get along to save his life.”  it means when he sees something that he thinks is Wrong, he absolutely will not shut up about it even when all his neighbors are sick of him and want him to just let it go.  it means he can’t stop rocking the boat even when rocking the boat makes everybody want to strangle him.)

he supplements his agricultural pursuits with carpentry.  you can see in his house big piles of hewn timber along one wall, as well as a grindstone and a shaving horse, and when he comes out of his house on two separate occasions he’s holding woodworking tools (mallet, chisel, etc)

he knows about merlin’s magic - for how long this has been the case, we’re not told.  it doesn’t feel like a new thing to me, but ultimately that’s guesswork.

he appears to have just one friend

that one friend is merlin

will loves merlin enough to die lying for him

merlin left will behind.

ii. it wasn’t what i wanted

so let’s talk about that.

merlin is asked “why did you leave?” twice in this episode, first by arthur and then by will.  he gives completely contradictory answers to the two of them, and it’s worth remembering, before examining both responses, that one answer is inherently more honest than the other, because merlin is only able to tell the whole truth to one of these people.

so when merlin talks to arthur, it goes like this:

“why did you leave?”

“things just...changed.”

“how?”

*silence*

“come on, stop pretending to be interesting and tell me.”

“i just didn’t fit in anymore.  i wanted to find somewhere I did.”

arthur has to drag this answer out of merlin, and it’s not because merlin doesn’t feel like sharing (i mean, come on, we know merlin; merlin wants to be in everybody’s business and he feeds off human connection like a starving man; he’d be thrilled that arthur was interested in his life) - the problem isn’t that he’s shy; it’s that he’s not exactly telling the truth and he’s trying to figure out how to do it in the least deceptive way possible.

i just didn’t fit in anymore.  i wanted to find somewhere i did.

that’s nice.  

it’s also a lie.  

it’s not a total lie, of course - there’s an element of it that becomes true, after merlin gets to camelot and realizes that working for arthur is “not totally horrible all the time” - that he sort of likes the excitement, and the newness, and being somewhere where nobody knows him and nobody will judge him - but that’s the reason he stays in camelot, not the reason he leaves ealdor.

by contrast, when will asks the question, merlin gives a completely different answer:

“why did you leave?”

“it wasn’t what I wanted.  mother was worried.  when she found out you knew - she was so angry.”

it wasn’t what I wanted.  

can we digest that for a moment?

merlin didn’t want to leave home.  

not that he isn’t enjoying himself in camelot now, of course - which he conveniently doesn’t mention in this conversation, because will is upset with him and merlin feels guilty that he’s been off enjoying his new life while will has been struggling at home alone - but at the point of departure, merlin didn’t want to go.  

his answer to arthur about finding a place where he belonged is certain-point-of-view bunk.  he didn’t just up and decide that he wanted to run off and find a place where he fit in better.  he didn’t leave because he wanted to escape a place he didn’t belong.  he didn’t set off in search of adventure and a new life.  it’s true that he didn’t feel like he fit in in ealdor, but that’s not what sent him packing.  he left because his mother found out that will knew about his magic, and she panicked and sent him away.  

iii. why did you leave

most fannish things i’ve encountered tend to interpret merlin’s departure in a much more generous light than i do, with merlin explaining to will that he’s leaving and will being unhappy about it but eventually understanding and kind of like...giving his blessing before merlin goes.  this is fine, of course, but it did surprise me, when i started dipping my toes into fandom, because i never interpreted events in this episode like that, and i don’t think it’s even a plausible read, not from the conversations we’re actually given.  the antipathy that accompanies merlin’s return doesn’t make sense under those circumstances, and moreover, from the way things actually unfold in this episode, we’re told, in order, the following three things:

1) the fact that will asks “why did you leave” tells us that he and merlin did not discuss it prior to the point of departure.  there’s no other reason for will to ask this question.  everything about will’s tone and body language in this scene indicates that he’s been stewing over this for a long time, that he doesn’t understand, that this is something profoundly difficult for him to address.  and while it might be nicer to think that merlin sat down and discussed things with will before leaving for camelot, that’s not the inference we’re being asked to make here.  

2) there is absolutely no way they wouldn’t have discussed it, if will had known that merlin was going to leave.  like - if your only friend in the world told you they were moving to another country tomorrow, there’s no way “why?” wouldn’t be the first question you asked.  there’s no way you wouldn’t have that discussion, at the most basic level, before separating.  it just wouldn’t happen.

3) so, given that information, the unfortunate, inescapable conclusion is this: will didn’t know merlin was going to leave.  merlin left without telling him.

everyone is free to continue to headcanon this in their own ways, of course.  but this is what we’re actually being told.

iv. we don’t want your kind round here

the fact that merlin vanishes without so much as a word to his best friend goes a long way towards explaining why merlin is so uncomfortable when he first sees will in the street.  

when they first encounter each other, merlin looks so apprehensive and wary, and the writers are playing it like ‘uh-oh, someone saw him use magic and now he’s nervous about it!!!’  but two seconds later, you realize that this can’t possibly be what’s causing merlin’s concern, because it’s made immediately clear that will already knows about merlin’s magic and isn’t going to say anything about it.  

merlin isn’t afraid of being outed, in this scene.  but he might, however, be afraid of the reception he’s going to get, given what we just discussed.

merlin just up and disappeared from home, and not so much as a letter since - we know will’s had a secondhand update, probably from hunith (“how’ve you been?!  i hear you’re skivvying for some prince”) but he very clearly hasn’t had any direct contact with merlin since before merlin left.  

merlin knows this was a big fuck-up.  he feels guilty.

(and to be clear - i think there is a lot to be said about just how merlin’s departure unfolded, and what stopped him from getting in touch.  it’s a complicated enough topic for its own piece, and it’s not quite within the scope of this essay, but suffice it to say for now that i don’t believe it stemmed from deliberate thoughtlessness or callousness on merlin’s part; it’s...deeper and more complicated than that.  honestly, i think merlin looks back on this as like...the first major mistake he ever made in his life, his...original sin, sort of.  and i don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself for it, either, but again, that’s a story for another day.)  the point here is that merlin didn’t necessarily want to cause harm, but he knew that’s what he was doing regardless - he knew that leaving without a word was the wrong thing to do.  and in this moment he feels rightfully guilty about all of it, and he’s afraid that his friend won’t welcome him home.

merlin’s moment of uncertainty is real, when will pretends to greet him with hostility.  merlin is afraid that will is angry with him for leaving him behind.

(and let’s not kid ourselves, will definitely is)

it’s a festering thing that keeps boiling to the surface as we progress through the episode.  it shows in the way will finally asks why did you leave, avoiding merlin’s eyes, the question laden with vulnerability.  it’s in the exchange “are you going to abandon them?”/“what, like you did?”  there’s real pain there, and confusion, lots of hurt feelings.

but.

despite all of that, will doesn’t freeze merlin out, when merlin comes riding back into town.  merlin is rightfully afraid that will might not want to see him, afraid that “we don’t want your kind round here” might be less of a joke than it ought to be.  and while all of the troubles that merlin is worried about are absolutely real and poised to cause friction later, the truth is that at that exact moment, when merlin comes walking up the road - none of it matters.  will has been nursing a collection of hurt feelings for months now, yeah, but in the immediate moment, when it comes down to it - he puts them aside.

they both do.  nerves, guilty thoughts, bruised feelings - they temporarily abandon all of that in favor of a momentary joy.  you can see how excited they are when they reunite.  how they start smiling at the same time.  how they laugh their way into that hug.  they’re so happy to see each other.

people get pretty worked up about ***That Time Arthur Finally Hugged Merlin!!!***, but i don’t know.  i think it matters to remember that merlin had people who knew how to hold him long before arthur was even a flicker of a shadow in merlin’s mind.

v. why are you being like this

so they reunite!

and then they fight. D:

but what really matters is how they fight, because even when they’re having an argument, they never let things escalate quite to the level of interpersonal nastiness, certainly never to the level of cruelty for cruelty’s sake - just a few hard truths and a pile of hurt feelings:

“i trust arthur with my life.”

“is that so?  so he knows your secret, then?”

...

“face it, merlin, you’re living a lie, just like you were here.  you’re arthur’s servant, nothing more.  otherwise you’d tell him the truth.”

the delivery in this scene is essential for understanding how these two interact with each other.  it’s so telling.  merlin and will are having an argument, and will is angry about everything we’ve already discussed, and on top of that, some prince is trying to round up a bunch of will’s neighbors for a fight that’s going to get a lot of people killed, and will sounds so sharp when he’s talking, up to and including the challenging “is that so?”  

but then when he sees that he’s touched a nerve there and merlin knows he’s right, his voice drops those edges and goes gentler, regretful, like - he and merlin aren’t all hunky-dory right now, but he’s not out to rub merlin’s face in it, either.  he’s not trying to “get back” at merlin for leaving him.  he’s not like...happy that merlin’s situation is shitty.  

vi.  if i broke it (would you quit?)

we mostly only see these two in a tense season.  they’re arguing with each other for almost the entire episode, and yet even in this at-odds state, there are little things that remind us of what they’re usually like - that they don’t want to be arguing, that this isn’t a natural at-rest state for them, that this isn’t what they’re used to.  they butt heads, but they keep swinging around back to each other, and trying again, and trying again, and trying again.  they never write each other off.  they keep trying to make it work.  

examples: merlin asking “why are you being like this?,” the implication being that will isn’t usually like this, that this isn’t how they usually act around each other.  the two of them together in the background of arthur’s pitiful training session, coming right off the tail-end of another argument and busying themselves with their own work, but still reflexively hanging in each other’s orbit.  merlin, even in the middle of a strained conversation, helping clean up the mess that the bandits made of will’s house, without asking or being asked, like it’s just the automatic, reflexive, natural thing to do.  merlin using will’s proper name when discussing him with other people, but always the diminutive when they’re talking to each other.  merlin following will every time will walks away; will doing the same when merlin’s the one who’s leaving.  that moment up in the hedgerow, with will’s embittered “you know why,” which sets them to arguing again, except instead of it pushing them apart, it pulls them closer together - will climbs right up into the hedge where merlin is standing so they can sit next to each other and talk.

like.  he’s angry!  but the instinct isn’t to storm away, it’s to get closer.

i love that so much.  i love how they’re starting to have another argument and merlin stands there and says “why are you being like this,” to which will, already upset, responds “you know why,” BUT -

but

will stalks up into that hedge and plops himself down right next to merlin, and merlin, without a moment’s hesitation, sits down beside him.

i love that.  they’re angry with each other, but their first instinct is still to close the distance.

i wonder, sometimes, how much of that is a function of them only having each other.  when you’re on the outs with someone, usually you can lean on your other friends, but what can they do?  it’s different when the person you usually seek out for comfort is the same person who’s pissing you off.  you don’t have anyone else to run to, so you can’t ever really storm off.  you have to learn how to hash things out.  you have to learn how to make it work.  you have to learn not to give up on each other.  

vii. she was so angry

the implied backstory for how merlin actually ended up in camelot is so painfully fascinating and, quite frankly, wrenching to think about, given how this episode eventually ends.

when will asks merlin why he left, merlin tells him, “it wasn’t what i wanted.  my mother was worried.  when she found out you knew - she was so angry.”  this is telling us that merlin’s departure for camelot was directly preceded by his mother discovering that will knew about merlin’s magic.  that is what ultimately prompted her to send merlin off to camelot.  of course there would have been other contributing factors - it’s evident that merlin’s situation in ealdor has always been precarious - but her immediate reason for sending him away was the fact that she found out that will knew about merlin’s magic, and she was angry and afraid to learn that merlin had been lying to her about something that put him at risk.

“i wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“i know you wouldn’t.”

but merlin’s mother didn’t believe that, or she wouldn’t listen to him when he tried to tell her, and she shipped him off to camelot anyway, despite the fact that camelot is arguably more dangerous for merlin than ealdor ever was.

the web of how this played out is such a tangled mess.  is it my fault, thinks will, before the episode even starts, desperately trying to figure out why merlin would abandon him like that.  it’s my fault, thinks merlin, at the end, knowing that if he had used his magic sooner, or come back alone, events would have unfolded differently.  it’s my fault, thinks hunith, realizing that the particular fear upon which she based merlin’s entire departure was utterly unfounded.

merlin doesn’t blame her for it, even though he has reason enough to be angry about it, by the end of this episode.  he understands that she was just trying to protect him.  but the truth of the matter is that she did make a mistake.  she was afraid for him, and she saw danger everywhere, and so she made a misjudgment.  

it’s the miniest of mini-arcs, but it’s there.  at the end of this episode, right after will drops the Big Damn Lie, merlin looks desperately around for the only other person in the room who understands, and the camera rests on hunith’s face for one lingering moment, as she realizes what’s happening.  when she’s exiting the house, there’s a shot where she pauses for a minute on her way out the door, staring back at her son's dying friend, who just offered himself up as a willing sacrifice to keep merlin’s secret safe.  

she and merlin are the only people in the room who understand the real import of that moment, the real meaning of that gesture.  they’re the only ones who know what’s happening, what it really means for will to say “i did it.”

hunith knows she misjudged that kid big-time.

viii. you can be my ride or die

so.  will.

why am i even interested in him?  what is it about this character that makes me want to write about him?

number one: i love him because he’s the only person we ever meet who cares exclusively about merlin.  

everyone else merlin has met up until this point is either a) as beholden to camelot and arthur as merlin is himself, or b) aware of merlin’s “destiny,” which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but does change the way people talk to him and treat him.  

it’s not that merlin doesn’t have people who care about him, but those relationships are not the same as the one he has with will.  merlin is obviously #1 in his mom’s life, of course - but, importantly, even hunith’s immediate reaction to merlin’s uncertainty at the end of 1.10 is to tell him that he has to go back to camelot, that arthur needs him, that he’s “the other side of a coin.”  this despite the fact that hunith has known arthur for all of five minutes and that merlin, in the moment where she talks to him, is in a lot of pain, and maybe it isn’t the most appropriate moment say, ‘hey, you absolutely must devote yourself to that guy i literally just watched lecture you about the evils of magic while attending your (supposedly magical) dead best friend’s funeral.’  

and when it comes to merlin’s camelot network, well - he’s #1 in gaius’s life, too, but gaius also is deeply concerned with the greater good, with the future emergence of albion, with what merlin is meant to become and do.  morgana and arthur - well, they don’t know merlin, first of all (really know him, all of him, the important bits) - they definitely like him well enough, and care about him in their way, but ultimately they’re royalty or pseudo-royalty and they have priorities that go beyond merlin, who, at the end of the day, is still a servant.  gwen comes the closest to being on merlin’s level, but she doesn’t know him-know him either, and as time goes on she gets more involved with the Crown, with arthur, and with the responsibilities all of that brings.  even merlin’s later friends all go on to have other missions - they absolutely all love him, but they all become knights, and they are as concerned about the well-being of the realm and the king as merlin is.  even merlin HIMSELF puts arthur’s life ahead of his own - he defines his worth by how well he can protect his prince.  

but will is the only person we ever meet who just cares about merlin - merlin the regular person, not the servant he pretends to be, or the legend he’s supposed to become.  not the fake, non-magical merlin facade (which is what almost everyone else needs merlin to be before they can condescend to be his friend) and not some destiny-laden figure out of prophecy, either.  will doesn’t know anything about destiny or prophecies.  he’s never needed to know about any of that stuff to care.  he’s always liked merlin.  just merlin.  just as he is.  

that matters.  all merlin ever does in this show is deny himself or be denied of the things every regular human being needs to thrive - love, acceptance, truth, safety.  he constantly puts or is forced to put other priorities ahead of his own interests, to a point where now, by season five, he’s spent years defending a regime that oppresses him, protecting kings who would execute him.  

will, in a display of true-to-character contrariness, upsets that entire narrative, because he does not care one whit about any of the things for which merlin is supposed to sacrifice his life.  will gives less than zero (count them: negative zero) fucks about arthur pendragon, and he doesn’t care about camelot, and he wouldn’t know what “albion” meant if he heard the word.  and it is refreshing - a blessed, beautiful, heartbreaking relief - to see one person in the world who only cares about merlin, for whom arthur pendragon, in comparison with merlin, isn’t the slightest bit important.  arthur isn’t even on the map.  he’s a non-entity.  he doesn’t exist.  

it’s a complete inversion of the way things are supposed to go, in this story.  you know how it goes - arthur is the once and future king, and merlin’s job is to usher in his reign.  "maybe that is its purpose,” gaius says, about merlin’s magic being meant to protect arthur, about merlin being born this way for that particular reason.  it’s merlin’s job to save arthur’s life.  it’s merlin’s job to teach arthur to be a better person, at his own expense.  it’s all for arthur.  i give my life for arthur’s.  his life is worth a hundred of mine.  what is the life of a servant compared with that of a prince?

will delivers the biggest fuck-you to that entire framework, because he doesn’t assess merlin’s worth based on what merlin can do for some random prince on the other side of the border.  merlin’s magic wasn’t purposed for anything, as far as will is concerned.  it doesn’t need to justify itself.  it just is.  it’s just who merlin is.  

and who merlin is has always been just fine.

ix. am i the only one wondering who the hell this is

for will, it’s people like arthur who need to justify themselves.  arthur with all of his power, arthur riding into little villages with his sword drawn, arthur and his bossing around and his “now, merlin!” conversation-interrupting.  will makes no allowances for wealth and couldn’t be less interested in royalty - his frame of reference isn’t you’re the once and future king and merlin exists to prop you up; it’s who the hell are you?  what gives you the right to be here?  what did you do to earn what you have?  

will, like gwaine after him, is acutely aware of the injustice of the reigning social system, and he’s not afraid to throw it in arthur’s face.  he knows that people like himself and merlin and all of their neighbors are unjustly disadvantaged from birth until death, and he knows they’re disadvantaged solely because the people at the top of the social chain are greedy lords who sow no seed but reap all the grain, who do no work but enjoy the greatest rewards, who steal from the people with impunity and call it divine entitlement.  will knows that he and merlin and all of their neighbors are considered no better than plow-beasts or war-fodder, and he knows that there is absolutely nothing they can do to stop the nobility from either taxing them into starvation or sending them off to die in a ditch - which makes him impossibly angry, and, unlike everybody else in his village, he’s not shy about saying so.

will is, at this point, literally the first non-villain to look at arthur and not immediately see some messianic pinnacle of human greatness - which is refreshing, to be honest, and fair enough besides!  he’s evaluating arthur from merlin’s side of things, after all, which nobody - including merlin - ever does, and while i love arthur as much as anybody - for the people’s hero that he could be, and for what he is, sometimes, if not frequently enough - the truth is that he’s not good for all of his people, not yet, and he’s not good for merlin, not the way things stand right now.  

will knows that.  he looks at arthur and sees a guy with a lot of power, who also happens to rule over the the least magic-friendly place in the five kingdoms, to whom merlin needs to lie in order to avoid the executioner’s block, and he sees merlin deluding himself into thinking that this supremely unequal, extremely unsafe situation counts as friendship.  

now, is will’s assessment of the situation a snap judgment based on personal encounters with an unjust social system and very limited knowledge of arthur as a person?  yes, definitely.  are there nuances to merlin and arthur’s relationship that he’s missing?  absolutely.

is he wrong?

not really.  and merlin knows it.

x. friends don’t lord it over one another!

i think about that line every damn episode.

over and over again, it comes back to me.  i hear it every time arthur gets On His Shit and invokes power he pretends not to have, every time i see more evidence of how this supposed “friendship” between him and merlin is inherently imbalanced.  it’s my favorite thing will says in all of 1.10, because it is so true and yet, most of the time, so unacknowledged as a dynamic.

we’re meant to love arthur and merlin together, and we do - i do; i do; when i see those moments that approach true mutual respect and care between them i am as swept up by the potential beauty of this friendship as anyone - but i still think about this line all the time.  it’s not right, the power dynamic between the two of them.  it’s not just about servants vs. royalty, though of course that’s a structural part of how it plays out.  it’s about the fact that, in a real friendship, one person can’t just whip out “you ever say anything like that again, and i swear you’ll join her in exile forever” to shut down a conversation and cow you into silence.  one person can’t just throw you in jail to spend a night “cooling off,” and they definitely can’t arrest you whenever someone levels a random accusation at you.  in a real friendship, it’s not one person who has all the power.  

but when it comes to arthur and merlin, that’s exactly what happens.  arthur gets to decide when he and merlin are and aren’t friends.  arthur gets to call merlin in or send him away.  arthur gets to make all the decisions about when to listen, when to ignore, when to trust, when to believe.  merlin can nudge, encourage, suggest, even defy, but ultimately, when you get right down to it, arthur is the king, and merlin is his servant, a dynamic which is compounded by the deadly particulars of merlin’s situation.  the relationship isn’t unequal solely because of a difference in social class, it’s unequal because arthur literally has the power of life and death over merlin.  arthur could (and would, as far as merlin knows) have merlin executed any day of the week, if he found out who merlin really was.  

that’s why when merlin tries to tell will that arthur is his friend, will snaps, “friends don’t lord it over one another!”  it’s not that you can’t care about someone who has more power than you, and it’s not that you can’t have some kind of relationship with them, but it is not real friendship if you think your “friend” will kill you when they find out who you really are.  it is not a real friendship if you have to pretend to be someone you’re not in order to preserve the relationship.  real friends don’t leverage impossible amounts of power to shut you up when you say something they don’t want to hear.  real friends don’t say things like “you’ll be a friend for life if you do [x thing]” to convince you to lie to their dad while they go out with a girl and thus get you clapped in the stocks three times in a row, and then turn around and show their appreciation by letting people raid and ransack your house multiple times, throwing you in jail at least twice, accusing (and once nearly executing!) your loyal long-serving mentor more than once - among innumerable other issues.  real friends aren’t “you’re my friend when i need you to be, but not when it’s inconvenient.”  they don’t have the kind of power to turn things on and off whenever they want.

i love that will is the only person who ever acknowledges this, across five seasons of this show.  i love that he spits it out immediately, without hesitation, the minute merlin tries to makes things sound better than they are.  i love that he says it unapologetically, to merlin’s face, because he says it for merlin’s sake, after all - the point of saying ‘friends don’t lord it over one another’ is to say ‘that guy doesn’t appreciate you the way you appreciate him/this isn’t reciprocal and he’s taking advantage of you/this isn’t the friendship you want it to be and i don’t like seeing you settle for this.’  will is that friend who watches you interact with someone and then later gets in your business like ‘EXCUSE ME!  I DO NOT LIKE HOW HE TALKS TO YOU!  I DON’T LIKE HOW HE TREATS YOU!'

will knows that merlin deserves better than arthur pendragon, even when merlin himself won’t concede that point.  merlin won’t advocate for himself, so will tries to do it for him.  merlin can try to convince himself that arthur is a real friend all he wants, but will knows what’s up.  he knows.  he knows where this is going, if merlin’s relationship with arthur is allowed to continue on exactly as-is.  will knows, from the very beginning, that this is a recipe for disaster.  

[addendum 2020: speaking from a post season-5 perspective...will understood where merlin and arthur were headed long before even we the audience did.]

xi. friends don’t lord it over one another [reprise]

you know what real friends do do for each other, though?

a) listen - even when they don’t like what the other person is saying

b) care - even when they’re angry

that’s it.  that’s what matters.  

we don’t need more than an hour of watching will and merlin onscreen together to see that this is how they interact with each other.  they’re arguing for most of this episode, and they’re both right, in different ways, but by the time they’ve had it out with one another, they both understand where their own arguments were wrong, too.  they listen to each other despite the fact that they’re angry, and despite the fact that they both have very strong feelings about their respective positions.  they care enough about each other to look past their personal injuries and accept where the other person is coming from.

merlin starts off this episode absolutely dead-set against using his magic to help ealdor, if there’s any chance arthur could find out about it.  but later, before he and will have even officially reconciled onscreen, we can already see that he’s been listening to what will’s been saying, that he’s come around to will’s way of thinking, because he tells his mother “if it comes down to a choice between revealing who i truly am and saving lives - that’s no choice at all,” hearkening back to will’s “are you telling me you’d rather keep your magic a secret for arthur’s sake than use it to protect your friends and family?”  and: “if arthur doesn’t accept me for who i am...well...then he’s not the friend i hoped he was” (you’re arthur’s servant, nothing more.  otherwise you’d tell him the truth.)  

merlin has been listening the whole time, even if he didn’t like what will was saying.

and the same goes for will, too.  he’s (understandably!) bitter about merlin’s situation, about the way merlin left, about the new life merlin built for himself while will was suffering in a confused limbo of abandonment at home - and will also obviously thinks the Farmers’ Resistance is a total disaster, a noble-spun farce that’s going to get good people killed - but even though he doesn’t trust the camelot contingent and couldn’t give fewer shits about prince arthur pendragon specifically, he trusts merlin.  he listens to merlin, even though they’ve been fighting.  he comes back because merlin keeps telling him it’s the right thing to do.

they both listen, even when it seems like they’re just arguing with each other.  and they both acknowledge where the other person was right, even when it means making themselves vulnerable.  will comes back to help his neighbors fight a battle against hopeless odds.  merlin exposes his magic to save people’s lives.  

they teach each other how to do the right thing.  they make each other brave.

xii. you just saved my life

let’s talk about being brave, then.

this kid jumps in front of a crossbow for a guy he doesn’t even like.

can we be clear about that?  will doesn’t even LIKE arthur.  he doesn’t particularly care about him.  he doesn’t accept him as the noble savior of all mankind.  he isn’t interested in defending the nobility, and he certainly hasn’t jumped on the camelot bandwagon.  just because he’s seen that arthur wasn’t planning on sending them all to their deaths without risking his own neck doesn’t mean will is suddenly going to start flying the pendragon crest from atop his house.

but he isn’t going to step back and let a coward shoot another man in the back, either.

arthur’s still a prince, yeah.  arthur’s still sitting at the tip-top of an unjust social system, benefitting from all kinds of privileges he didn’t earn.  arthur’s still a crappy friend to merlin.  heck, two seconds before that crossbow gets fired, arthur’s gone full-on inquisition-mode, interrogating merlin about sorcery, which, given that arthur can just go ahead and have merlin executed with a snap of his fingers, isn’t a great way to earn will’s respect or trust.  

but you know what?  when it comes down to it, will’s automatic, reflexive reaction upon seeing someone in immediate danger is to Get In The Way.  

it doesn’t matter that will doesn’t like arthur.  it doesn’t even matter that he actively dislikes arthur.  will doesn’t even think about it, he just moves.  instinctively.  automatically.  he isn’t going to let anyone standing right in front of him get murdered with their back turned, no matter how much he can’t stand them.  

let’s all take a second to remember and acknowledge something in arthur’s stead, since i’m not sure arthur will do it himself - arthur pendragon would have been dead right there if it weren’t for a dirt-poor peasant farmer from cenred’s kingdom who never had anything nice to say to a prince but still stepped between a pendragon and a crossbow in the name of doing the right thing.  without will, the story would have ended in season 1, episode 10.  albion itself owes its future existence to a young man with no surname who will never be acknowledged or recognized for anything he did, not for teaching the future king a lesson in humility, not for saving the prince’s life, and certainly not for the greatest and most noble move he ever made, because that gesture’s success is predicated upon its remaining a secret.  

this kid saves the entire World That Will Be.  the show would have ended before it ever really began, if not for our man prince william of ealdor.  

merlin knows that, and merlin never forgets it.  but i’m not so sure about everyone else.

xiii. yeah, don’t know what i was thinking

let’s talk about defiance.

this kid is dying, and he’s still full of piss and vinegar.  when arthur says, wide-eyed, “you’re a sorcerer,” will responds, “yeah.  what are you going to do, kill me?”  

what a power move.  what a thing to say.  

that’s not a question.  that is a no-fucks-given, shame-and-blame challenge.  

what are you going to do, kill me?  

merlin uses those exact same words during his confrontation with morgana in 3.02.  when he’s trapped - when he’s cornered and betrayed and angry - he reaches for the kind of defiance he once saw exercised on his own behalf, for a shameless bravery that burned itself into his brain.  for the kind of strength he wants to channel himself.

when it comes to holding your ground in front of the pendragon dynasty, merlin learned from the best.

xiv. and i’m prince william, of ealdor

let’s talk about names.

william: from wil (will or determination) and helm (protection, a helm)

hence the common translation of resolute protector.

which, given the events of 1.10, seems very fitting.

xv. i did it

let’s talk about lies.

because resolute protector rings even more powerfully true when it comes to merlin than it does for arthur.

at the time of this writing, i have four more episodes to watch before i’m done with season 5.  at this point, at the end of the show, merlin’s magic is still a secret.  merlin’s gotten involved in a lot of dangerous situations, risking his life in other ways, but the one danger he’s never had to really confront is the executioner’s block, because none of the pendragons know his secret.

and the reason none of the pendragons know his secret is thanks to our boy prince william of ealdor, who turns his own untimely death into a last-second rescue operation by telling the Biggest Damn Lie of his life and then doubling down on it when merlin tries to tell him no.

will is the one who secures merlin’s next five years of relative safety.  not from all of life’s dangers, of course; no one can do that - but when it comes to merlin’s greatest fear, the worst outcome, the prospect of being dragged out of his home in chains and murdered in front of an ogling crowd for just existing - will buys merlin’s escape from that fate with his life.  merlin remains hidden and unexposed to this very day because will died protecting his secret, because will lied to the prince of magic-hunting and invited upon himself all of the risk and scorn and danger and condemnation that a false confession like that entailed.

i honestly don’t know how to express clearly enough the enormity of that moment.  the momentousness of that gesture.  i called it a bold and tremendous lie in some other post somewhere, and i don’t know how else to capture what it was.  the thought of what it would mean, to be merlin, and to see someone throw themselves on the block for your sake, for your safety and your future and your freedom, when the rest of the world and every message you’ve ever absorbed says you don’t deserve to be safe, you don’t deserve to be free, you don’t deserve to exist.  

it is impossible to overstate how much that matters.  merlin carries that with him for the rest of his life.

xvi: i can’t fight you anymore (it’s you i’m fighting for)

let’s talk about love, okay?

this ep is called the moment of truth, right?  

so here are some truths about will.  in the time that we spend with him, we come to understand that he is the following:

a poor peasant kid with nothing to his name

a kid whose father is dead  

a kid whose mother is either dead or absent

a kid who “people are used to ignoring”

a kid who’s been making his own way through this backbreaking subsistence-farmer’s life with no grown-ups to hold him or help him or listen to him when he comes home at night

a kid who isn’t trusted to protect merlin’s secret, even by merlin’s own mother, whom will has known for his entire life

a kid whose only friend in the world fucked off to the country next door without a hint of warning or any indication that it was something that should matter to either one of them, making will think he misread the only meaningful relationship he’s ever had, because if merlin can just vanish to nowhere and not even bother to send a note, then either merlin wasn’t actually his friend to begin with or merlin was his friend at one time but doesn’t want to be anymore, both of which options are soul-crushing

a closed-off, heavily-armored, hurting kid who’s been unspeakably lonely for the past few months but also angry and ashamed at himself for feeling that way, because how stupid did he have to be, to think that he mattered to someone, that someone would ever want him or love him or need him or miss him, to think that this time would be different, that this time somebody wouldn’t leave him -

and even in this state - even in the midst of all this -

at the moment of truth, he still puts himself on the chopping block.  he still says, “you’ll have to go through me.”

he comes through for merlin.  of course he does.  the irony is bitter and beautiful - hunith sent merlin away precisely because she didn’t trust that merlin would be safe with will knowing about his magic, but in the end it’s will who gives up everything to keep merlin’s secret concealed.

not just to keep it concealed, even - to reverse merlin being outed.  merlin had already been exposed.  the deed was done!  the magic was seen!  it was all over - and then, miraculously, it wasn’t.  what will did was the only way merlin could ever have slipped safely back under the cover of secrecy.

will didn’t have to do that.  he didn’t have to lie about performing magic, and he didn’t have to save arthur, either.  it would have been better for will to let arthur die, in fact, and it would have been better for him to let merlin get caught, too, because ‘maybe then merlin would have to stay here with me’ - but will is so much better than petty revenge.  he’s so much better than anybody ever gives him credit for, merlin excepted.  

the fight will has with merlin doesn’t matter to him, in the end.  it was a complicated situation for both of them; will knows this.  if he weren’t dying now, he and merlin would have talked it out and made up - will knows that, too.  things could have gone a little smoother between them, maybe, and will still thinks going back to camelot is less than what merlin deserves, but it’s what merlin wants, and the mark of truly loving someone is when you want the best for them, even if it means you don’t get what you want for yourself.  so ultimately, when it comes down to it, the truth for will is this: he wants merlin to have a good life.  he wants merlin to be safe.  he wants merlin to be happy.  he wants merlin to be with him, too, but if he can’t have that, it’s no reason to withhold any of the other gifts he can bestow.  if one of those gifts is freedom, if one of those gifts is safety - it’s no choice at all.  

merlin is will’s one good thing.  merlin deserves everything will can give him, as far as will is concerned.

xvii. the only place worth being

this place has been boring without you.

what a thing to tell someone.

what a powerful thing to say to someone whose entire life up to this point has been a litany of ‘there’s something wrong with you,’ ‘you don’t belong here,’ ‘you’re cursed/broken/wrong/unnatural.’  what a dauntlessly loving thing to tell someone whose entire life has been the message ‘people like you deserve to die,’ over and over and over again.

what a singularly beautiful thing it is, for someone like merlin to hear ‘you are what makes this place worth living in.’

xviii: the only one worth seeing

likewise it’s good to see you again.

because it’s not just “it’s good to see you again;” it’s an acknowledgement that merlin is the last person will is ever going to see.  

and will is like, okay.

he’d rather be alive, yeah, but if he had choose - it’s good that it’s you.

xix: the only bed worth sleeping in (is the one right next to you)

the most devastating moment in this sequence, for me, is at the very end, when will confesses fear.

it doesn’t happen until everything else has been taken care of.  arthur’s been fooled, merlin’s been safely shuffled back under the cover of secrecy, everybody’s been taken in by the ruse and sent away, none the wiser  - all the necessary and important business has been dealt with.

only at the very, very end does will’s own predicament rear its ugly head.  only after everything else is done does he even allow himself to feel it.  he’s spent the rest of this sequence making jokes and roasting arthur and keeping it all together, but at the last second, when he falters, he comes undone for the only person he trusts, the only person who understands him, the only person in the world who gives a damn about him.  his defenses come down, in that last moment, for merlin - and it could ONLY be for merlin - when will says, “merlin, i’m scared.”

we don’t need anything else, to understand their relationship.  we’ve seen enough of will by now to recognize that he keeps the world at arm’s length, that even his walls have walls, that this is just not the sort of thing he would ever admit to.  confessions of pain?  acknowledging vulnerability?  never.  he’s not that kind of character.  we know he has a big heart - look at what he’s doing - but we also know he’s had a hard life.  he’s wrapped himself in layers upon layers of protection - snark and anger and deflection and sarcasm and still making jokes at the prince’s expense after being shot in the chest - nobody is allowed to see him open and undefended, never.

except merlin.

will is dying.  he is so young.  he has been so alone, for so much of his life, and he’s so young, and he’s dying.  he clutches for this lifeline like it’s the only thing he has, because it is the only thing he has - merlin is his only friend.  merlin is the person will loves best in the whole world.

merlin, i’m scared.

that is so unbelievably vulnerable.  that is so utterly naked.  that is totally defenseless, exposed, belly-up and barethroated under someone else’s burning gaze.

that is absolute trust.  will would never have said that in front of anyone else.  he would never have allowed anyone else to see him like that.

his confession is, like pretty much everything else he ever does, for merlin alone.

xx. your heart is on my sleeve

merlin, will keeps repeating.  merlin.

how much do you have to love someone, to make their name your last words?  how much do you have to care about someone, for that to be the only thing you can think to say, again and again, in your last terrified moments on this earth?

that’s a rhetorical question.  

i know how much.

xxi: i missed you too

i think, sometimes, about will, when i watch the later seasons of merlin, and about how he would feel if he could see what merlin’s life has turned into.

i sometimes wonder how he would feel, if he could see how merlin allows himself to be passed over, disbelieved, disrespected.  if he could see how merlin has started to define his worth in terms of how well he is able to protect Some Dude who doesn’t even know who merlin is, who keeps people like merlin trapped in the shadows of subjugation, hidden citizens in their own kingdom.  if will could see how merlin has laid his entire life down for other people’s enrichment, if he could see how little hope merlin now holds for his own happiness, if he could see the way merlin in S5 has given up on his own liberation -  

i don’t have to guess what will would say about it.  i know how he would feel.  if will could see merlin in season 5, his raging little heart would break.

i wish he were here to tell merlin exactly what he thought about it.  merlin does all this self-sacrificing for the sake of his “destiny”; whereas will would think that any destiny making merlin this miserable was a steaming pile of trash.  will would tell kilgharrah to get lost, and to take his questionable advice with him.  will would tell arthur to fuck off - he’s done it already, in slightly less explicit terms.  

does that mean i truly think merlin is supposed to abandon his mission and ditch camelot and run off to live his own life?  no.  merlin cares too much about making the world a better place to be truly happy with that kind of existence; he wants to change things for the common good; he wants to help the people he cares about.  but merlin, as he tries to fulfill his mission, is desperately missing will’s kind of support in his life.  merlin needs someone who is only here for him.  he needs someone who is going to get up in his face and remind him, “you matter.”  he needs someone to tell him, “you deserve better than this.”  he needs someone who isn’t afraid to tell destiny to fuck off, when telling destiny to fuck off is in merlin’s best interests.

merlin needs someone who is on his side.  

not camelot’s side.  not albion’s side.  not arthur’s side.  

HIS side.  merlin’s side.

xxii: he still is

the thing about will, then, for me, is this: i can’t minimize him.

i can’t do it.  i can’t diminish that part of merlin’s life.  

i don’t think it’s possible to overestimate his importance, frankly.  merlin, when we meet him, has only ever had two people in his life.  that is such an...unfathomable experience, for many of us.  just two people.  just two people to know you.  just two people to love you.  just two people, for your whole life.

will wasn’t just some friend.  will was half of merlin’s world.

fannish pursuits that i have seen...the things where will appears are already so limited, and of course that’s completely understandable - it’s not like he’s a main character, or even a side character, by any means; i totally get that.  but - so much of what i see is him serving solely as a set-up for merlin/arthur, or otherwise being shoved out of the way as soon as arthur shows up on the scene, or showing up only to be a receptacle for discussion about arthur and merlin’s developing relationship - even will and merlin’s own ship tag is 90% merlin/arthur fics.

and there’s nothing wrong with this, ultimately; everybody should continue to write exactly what they want and enjoy exactly what they want; that’s the fun of fandom.  i mention these things here only because for me, personally, the whole point of will’s character is that merlin’s life is bigger than just arthur.  the most important relationship merlin had for most of his life had zip-zero-nothing to do with arthur pendragon, and it still has zip-zero-nothing to do with arthur pendragon, after will is dead.  

you remember will’s funeral at the end of 1.10?  arthur has an entire conversation (a horrible one, fyi) with merlin, and merlin doesn’t look at him once.  he answers arthur’s questions because he has to, but his eyes never once leave the pyre in front of him - not while he’s listening, not while he’s talking, not once.  not ever.  arthur comes, arthur chastises, and arthur goes, all without being granted so much as a glance, because this isn’t about him.  this is none of his business.

the whole point of will is that it is possible for someone to love merlin and not give a tinker’s cuss about arthur pendragon.  the whole point of will is that having someone love merlin without caring about arthur pendragon is, in fact, a good thing.  merlin needs somebody like that in his life.  he struggles when he doesn’t have someone like this around to advocate for him.  just look at where he is in season 5 - look at what his life has become, when it’s been years since he had an in-the-know friend.

merlin suffers when he loses this kind of support.  it’s easy to say that will is never mentioned again after 1.10, but there are real reasons why merlin wouldn’t be willing to explicitly mention him, and the lack of explicit references doesn’t mean we can’t still see him, if we pay attention.  we see the immediate impact of his death in merlin’s attitude shift in 1.11.  we see him in 2.02, when merlin names his fake tournament knight sir william and spends the rest of the episode roasting arthur to within an inch of his life.  we see him in the season 3 opener, when morgana levels her sword at merlin and the first thing that pops out of merlin’s mouth is “what are you going to do, kill me?”  we see him in gwaine’s intro episode, when merlin immediately cleaves to this class-conscious ‘people get sick of me too quickly’ stranger whose father was killed fighting one of the king’s wars.  and his absence is felt, more generally (as is lancelot’s) in how quickly merlin’s life starts to spiral out of control once the only two honest friends he ever had are gone.  their loss doesn’t have to be explicitly referenced for us to understand that merlin, without that kind of support system, is faltering.  we see it happening with our own eyes.

[edit, post-viewing-of-S5-finale: and we see where it eventually leads, too.]  

so, once again, as i said - i can’t minimize this character.  i can’t overstate the positive impact of merlin having somebody who was here for him and only him, who affirmed merlin’s value independently of arthur pendragon’s fate, who knew and loved merlin without caring about a “destiny” that ultimately, in the end, turned out to be a cruel joke made at merlin’s expense.  

if will had lived, i’m not sure we would have ended up in quite so dark a place.  we might have landed in some other tight spot, sure, but i can tell you one thing for certain - will would not have sat quietly by and allowed merlin to throw his life away, not for camelot, not for arthur, and certainly not for a parade of empty promises.

xxiii: where you are, there i’ll be

the bottom line is this.

merlin spent the first two decades of his life with one friend.

one.  

loved by one friend.  

one.

merlin had his mother, who was there for him from the beginning, whose love was unconditional, who was an “of course.”

and he had will, who chose merlin, who kept choosing merlin even after merlin told him the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Secret.  will’s presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin grows up believing himself to be deserving of love from people who aren’t his own mother.  his presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin knows how to have and be a friend.  his presence in merlin’s life is the only reason merlin is who he is - a merlin who’d spent his entire life without a single friend would not have been the same confident, optimistic, gregarious person who later walked into camelot and told arthur pendragon, “i’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

will mattered.  we don’t talk about him much, because he only appeared in one episode, but it wasn’t “one episode” for merlin; it was closer to twenty years of companionship, of elbows in ribcages and smirks exchanged across the room and someone to natter on at, a person to sit next to and walk beside, in every season and all sorts of weather.

will chose merlin, and he kept right on choosing him, until he breathed his very last breath.  that is enough for me to love him, to feel grateful that he existed.  i don’t care how rough he is around the edges.  i don’t care that he hates arthur pendragon’s guts, that he has a big mouth, that he speaks out of turn, that he has no tact, that he can’t suffer fools, that he has a chip on his shoulder the size of a minor planetoid and wings it at people’s heads when the mood is on him.

he loved merlin.  actual, magical merlin; merlin as he truly is, merlin in all his gifted, unnatural, beautiful imperfection.  

that is a desperately rare thing.  that is worth celebrating.

[paperclipninja]

Younger post-ep ramble 7x01

I joked in my finale ramble at the end of season 6 that the episode was called ‘Forever’ because that’s how long it would feel between seasons...well joke's on me because now, after 587 days, we are FINALLY here. The Younger drought has been a tough one, but we have been generously compensated by getting the first four episodes all at once, which is both exciting and also, turns out, incredibly overwhelming. As usual the thoughts and feelings are many, mostly feelings (read: I am NOT ok) but let’s start off with a delve into the premiere episode, ‘A Decent Proposal’.

The episode picks up within minutes of where the season 6 finale left off, with Diana and Enzo not wasting any time to hot foot it out of their wedding reception and into their happily ever after (Arrivederci bitches!). Of course I’m very happy for Diana and her happiness but there’s only one couple’s happiness that I am on tenterhooks about now that Diva is sorted and that is Charles and Liza, as they watch their sprinklers fizzle out in some sort of awkward, symbolic, anti-climax. 

You may recall that mere moments earlier, Charles had popped the question on the dancefloor before the two were separated by an obligatory conga line, and Charles quickly assumes that Liza’s lack of enthusiasm to shout her answer across the reception of another person’s wedding is an answer in itself. As anyone who has read my rambles before knows, I unapologetically fly the Team Charles flag, and let me tell you, despite her supreme stalling techniques (you’re not divorced yet, we should probably speak to the children blah blah), hearing Liza say, ‘my answer is, I love you’, my jaw hit the floor. I’m sorry, did Liza Miller just declare her feelings openly and directly and with absolute certainty??? We’re 33 seconds into the new season and I AM SHOOKETH DARREN. 

Speaking of declaring feelings openly and directly, I love absolutely everything about this opening scene. The music choice was perfect and really helped build the moment, as Charles told Liza he understands her hesitation before un-asking her to marry him (so that when the she’s made her mind she can pop the question - I kid you not, this has always been my dream...). The music cutting out and just hearing the crickets as Liza asks if he’s really withdrawing the proposal, his quip about her having to make the next move, assuming he’s still on the market (I love/hate this foreshadowing btw), it is Charles/Liza banter at its best and my sappy heart was soaking up every morsel. Throw in some CGI fireworks and the observation that they are sign (which may or may not play out at a later date) and you have yourself a pretty darn near perfect start to Younger’s final season.

Speaking of talking openly and directly, one of the staples of the Youngerverse, the Maggie morning debrief, is back as our way to gain insight into the thoughts, feelings and ponderings of Liza. Straight off the bat I am very pleased that Maggie has fully committed to ‘Chaz’ for Charles and I’m even happier that we actually hear these two talking about what’s going on because honestly, the last couple of seasons the Maggie/Liza convos, which we traditionally rely on heavily to know where Liza is at and to hear Maggie’s sage/sometimes terrible advice, have been skimmed over or felt rushed. We are also reminded that Liza has indeed seen Charles’ goods (the Empiriconda, she’s meaning the Empiriconda) and that the sex is hot, because we need to have all the information on top of the declarations of love to highlight how their relationship is pretty much perfect so that what transpires is even more painful.

Other things that are painful include the fact that Diana will be decidedly absent for most of the season (to be fair scheduling/covid are pretty legit reasons and in ep 1 we can chalk that up to her honeymoon, so more lamenting on that later), but early on it provides some pretty fab Lauren Diva-worshiping. Donning a baroque print Moschino suit that would’ve made Fran Fine jealous, Lauren is clearly distracted by the responsibility of her interim role at Empirical, as her mother frets about the theme for her 30th birthday party over face-time.

Keeping up the chaotic energy, we also discover that Kelsey has to go and let Quinn know she no longer needs her money (these characters’ ongoing relationship with the woman who has tried to ruin all of them at some point really needs unpacking with a good therapist at this stage) and Josh is in full frantic dad mode because he thinks Clare is trying to kidnap Gemma (lol that Lauren straight up calls her out on it later). Two quick points here:1) love seeing this side of Josh and 2) love Kelsey’s calm, measured reassurance that of course Clare would want her family to meet Gemma. I will say though, Josh meeting Rob for the first time when he’s about to go with Clare and Gemma to Ireland and hearing this guy he doesn’t know from a bar of soap exclaim, ‘I’m just in love with your daughter’ was super unfair. Not cool Clare, not cool. 

Kelsey keeps her cool as she breaks the news of her change of heart to our fave resident villain, who comes complete with a bowl of fortune cookies she ominously encourages Kelsey to consult while also enjoying her own fortune, ‘a new love will come into your life’. It’s all very OTT and ridiculous in it’s obvious foreshadowing and I am here for every minute of it because I sincerely love to hate Quinn very much.

My love of all things over the top is further fed by Lauren entering Diana’s office and making her way to the desk - the music, the way Lauren looks at the framed picture of Diana and Enzo before relegating it to the drawer, any moment I was expecting her to utter ‘my precious’ as she became more and more entranced by the power of the neckwear, before Liza abruptly broke the spell by asking what she was doing and warned her off her consideration of claiming Diana’s office as her own. Very much appreciated the continuity later in the episode when Liza is very distressed that Lauren has gone full-Trout with the chunky baubled ornament around her neck, though Lauren is less Invasion of the Body Snatchers and more Nancy Drew at this point, as she has caught wind of Charles’ proposal while reviewing video footage from Diana’s wedding which she decided, for some reason, to show Josh, who was ‘still not interested’ (we hear your words Josh but your face says otherwise). I am very on board the Liza/Lauren dynamic and their ‘circle of trust’ as Liza asks that Lauren keep the proposal to herself (we really haven’t seen the friendship between these two much) and Liza’s gratitude, ‘Thank you...Di-va’, is hilarious, as is the response, ‘my pleasure, Queen’.

We get many fine moments in the office this ep, the first meeting when there are formal announcements and speeches made welcoming Kelsey back...to a conference room of Charles, Liza, Lauren and a random guy we’ve never seen or heard from before and never will again it seems. It makes me laugh that every person in the room except the dude we’ll never know already knows everything but hey, formality is important I guess? The pitch for ‘Little Women in Space’ by an author played by an actress who is friends IRL with Sutton Foster and they were in the musical Little Women together is honestly too much but also just the right amount and this show does meta so well (not to mention Lauren’s excited outburst upon realising her party theme plus her making sure Liza knows that she knows about the proposal. Subtle as a sledgehammer is our Lauren). 

One not-so-fine moment is the extremely out of left field resignation of Zane followed by the completely douchey moment of him breaking up with Kelsey via face-time with the line, ‘I love you Kelsey, take care’. I’m sorry, what?? On the one hand, I get it that CMD wasn’t available for the season so in some respects better to deal with it swiftly and move on, but it was very abrupt and strange. I had zero investment in the pairing so it doesn’t overly affect my viewing, but any fans out there shipping those two, are you ok? Because that was a brutal way for a pairing to simply cease to exist.

So we have I love yous being thrown around by Kelsey and Zane as they break up because that makes sense (in retrospect I should’ve seen what was coming because these words clearly mean NOTHING *breathes deeply, exhales slowly*) but thank goodness Liza is there to comfort Kelsey, whose statement that she really doesn’t care would be a lot more convincing if she wasn’t crying inconsolably. We get a beautiful transition from Kelsey’s office to Charles’ with a sweeping aerial shot across the autumnal canopy of Central Park along with the gentle music adding to the relaxed pacing of the episode. Liza doesn’t want it to be weird between her and Charles now that the proposal is out there (well actually, its 100% in her court but yes), so he reassures her it’s not weird at all by planting a kiss on her that almost triggers the sprinklers because friends, it is HOTTT. Cue super cute exchange about pro and cons lists, lovingly looking into one another’s eyes and then, another ‘ I love you’ from Liza to Charles followed by Charles responding, ‘I love you too’, and despite my deceased status at this point, it was magical. But also WHAT. IS. HAPPENING. 

These two are so enamoured with one another and it’s as though it’s something they just say to each other all the time, but this is literally the first episode we’ve heard any kind of expression of feelings to one another since the season 6 premiere and even then it wasn’t this direct; Liza ran away and Charles told her he didn’t mind not being at the office because he did it for the woman he loves followed by a cute story about how he can do maths because he’s had feelings for her for 16 years. Don’t get me wrong, the entire scene this episode was perfect and it was SO well done in the way it captured the best parts of their dynamic (damn you Darren Star for being so good at what you do), but it also felt like we were being shown the dream version of what could have been before it’s all snatched away.

Not unlike Millennial, which is like naming a business Boomer Print according to the table of boomers at the investor meeting who blindside Kelsey and Charles by voting to restore the name Empirical (head boomer has clearly had it with millennials, indicated by his statement, ‘who gives a shit about millennials any more?’) and so it is done and Kelsey is officially having a very bad week. It is while enjoying a quiet bourbon in the bar that evening that Charles is joined by Quinn, who is allegedly on her apology tour to explain to investors why she dropped out of the Senate race, but also offers Charles what seems to be a sincere apology for treating his company like a toy (prediction: nothing is ever as it seems with Quinn). I have a confession to make and believe me, I don't like it any more than you do - they absolutely nailed the set up of tension and a little bit of a spark between Charles and Quinn in this scene IMO and I...I *whispers* I liked it.

What I liked even more was Lauren’s completely in character entrance to her own birthday party, omg it’s so ridiculous and perfectly her and Denise telling her daughter, ‘fix your crotch, good girl’ had me chuckling. I feel like we’re getting Kelsey’s set up for the season at this party too, as she’s feeling unsure of what defines her now, and the conversation about defining things carries over into Josh and Liza’s chat when he asks her if congratulations are in order. This exchange between the two of them is just lovely, with Liza clearly feeling a little awkward talking to Josh about Charles, but Josh reassures her that he does like him, for her, and that it brings him joy to know she’s happy. They agree that their relationship doesn’t need to be defined, and that they'll always be in each others’ lives no matter who they’re with. It feels very final for their romantic relationship and I would be celebrating the end of the triangle had I not clocked Josh’s fallen expression as Liza walks away. I really do hope that Josh finds someone he loves and who loves him the way he wants to be loved this season. Josh’s words gave Liza some clarity of her own and so we find ourselves at the magnificent Seaglass Carousel, home of Liza and Charles’ first proper date, once more.

Charles is clearly full of hope and expectation as he meets Liza and they remember the time he and the beard we try to forget about brought her there and it’s all amazing and beautiful and...*collects self*...Liza tells him that she just wants to keep riding the perfect ride. She once again tells him she loves him (we’re up to three times in one ep now for those of you playing at home), that all she wants is his heart and that she wants to be happily unmarried to him every day. To say this does not go down the way she is expecting is an understatement; we learn that Charles doesn’t want a ride, he wants to get off the carousel and not live in a fantasy. He believes in marriage whereas she believes they are now finally free and folks, this is why you talk about your stance on marriage in a relationship BEFORE you pop the question out of nowhere at someone’s wedding. 

You can see on his face, as Liza says she doesn’t want to define their relationship by the rules and obligations of marriage, that he’s hearing that she is not all in (whether that’s true or not) and he thanks her for letting him know what’s in her heart. You know the bit that actually plunges the knife into my heart? Charles shaking his head as Liza says his name, clearly overcome with emotion, before he kisses her on the head looking as though his world has just come crumbling down around him. That knife just gets twisted even further as Liza is left there in disbelief, (we are all Liza in that moment honestly), trying to process how her own declaration could be so easily rejected. You know, I knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any less painful. I can see it from both perspectives and I have no doubt that these two characters have a lot they need to address and work through as a result of their own failed marriages if they’re going to have healthy relationships moving forward. 

I tell you what, after so long with no new episodes, this first episode of the season was concurrently beautiful and heart-breaking and one thing’s for certain - this final ride ain’t gonna be smooth. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m just going to go and regain some composure so we can start on ep 2...

Season 6 ramble collection can be found here

[sitp-recs]

(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)

Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:

It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!

Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.

Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!

I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.

Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!

Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)

The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.

Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)

This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.

Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron

One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.

The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)

I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.

Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)

This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!

Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)

Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!

Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)

Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.

And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)

What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!

A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)

Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!

Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)

My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.

Bonus: five stunning drabbles!

Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)

“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.

Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)

“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”

Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)

“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”

Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.