#like bro never got a break he went through tragedy after tragedy

[bloominstorm]

I’m actually in disbelief ..

[icharchivist]

As someone who has never played FF7 its always kind of funny to see FF7 characters be talked about, because I am aware of a bunch of the big general plot beats but also I know a lot of the cultural images of the FF7 characters from years of fan characterization and spinoffs so trying to reconcile the characters as symbols with the knowledge that the characters are characters can get kinda funny.

Zack's the biggest example of this, I think, because I only found out about his plot beats from cultural osmosis after years of the cultural image of Cloud and Sephiroth's toxic yaoi thing. So with him especially its hard to think about him and focus on the stuff I academically know actually matters.

So people talk about Zack and I go, yeah yeah The Tragedy and all that. But I also immediately think of how the Kingdom Hearts series does Final Fantasy character cameos that never really have major plot stuff going on, and they put Zack in a prequel game full of doomed characters because like. Of course. But because it's just a cameo Zack comes out of that game fine, except for an ominous black feather that floats down near him in the credits sequence.

So in my heart Zack's kind of like. An ill omen in presence. I see Zack and he feels like someone doing tarot readings flipped over The Tower. And then my brain catches up and goes "Well that's just because he is himself the protagonist of a doomed prequel" but its too late. It's like with Aerith where I see her and I think about The Obvious and then go "Well she's also a character in the game before That Happened".

oh god, yeah, i sure imagine!

ff7 is kind of a legendary game and i think that a lot of plotbeat have been talked about so often people just know it. Like Sephiroth's homoerotic obsession for Cloud gets brought up everytime Cloud gets added to a crossover game because Sephiroth is sure to follow (hi Smash bros), the Aerith's thing has been brought up time and time again, and then there's the KH games that had peppered some of the story lore here and there.

But i also think that players actually don't talk about a lot of the plotbeats. Not to mention the shipwar that ends up completely eclipsing the story and its themes at times.

(im vaguing a bit but this may be spoilery)

Zack is in this really weird position, especially before the remake came out, because Zack is simultaneously Square Enix's most popular male character (across all the games) and also a character who's massive element is that he had to remain a mystery for the longest time. (and it's why i have a problem with the remake just spoiling it right from the start).

Like, even i was introduced to the game by Zack's tragedy, but i didn't know about it going in, so to me i really jumped in to his last scene and then lost my mind.

But even so personally i played Crisis Core first, so i have a very distinct image of Zack in my head. Of the charming, cheerful, sweet, even if not the smartest boy, who joined in to follow his dreams only to realize he signed on for a nightmare he had no way to sign out of. To me Zack is the guy who tries to be so optimistic, blindly at first, then forcing himself to shut his eyes to be optimistic, then who realized he couldn't keep is eyes closed to it but he had to still hold on to hope, only for it to run him into the ground by the end of the game and he's just breaking under the weight of it all.

there's a lot of tragedy to Zack way past just How It Ends, and it fascinates me personally. But i also have a "got obsessed about Zack Fair when i was 12" disease so i have so much i could say for those last 17 years of stuff to talk about.

(also the feather in KH is a reference to two things: first, Zack's obsession with wings that follow him through the Prequel, and second, the implied fact both Sephiroth and Cloud have reason to be looking for him. in the KH mobile game from the way back they even had Cloud grabs the feather Zack was last seen in in the credits. and obviously that went nowhere since KH3 didn't include any of the FF characters in it. But i still remember.)

But i think Zack is also in a fascinating position because people don't want to talk about what's up, yet people mostly know he mattered to Cloud for an instant, and it makes going through the OG with just the knowledge "Zack mattered to Cloud" genuinely earthshaking.

I remember watching a let's play of a guy going into ff7 totally blind, he didn't know anything about it, and he took everything Cloud said at face value as you do without the benefit of foresight. And then Zack was namedropped, and Cloud reacted in a way the let's player didn't expect. And i remember the actual shock in the voice of the guy going "but. but wait isn't Zack the guy the prequel is about? what the hell is going on, why is he namedropped now, why is /this/ happening."

And, in the sense Zack haunts the narrative, is that if you know Zack exists, you'll start picking it up and it'll make you approach the game differently.

Zack was made from the start to haunt the narrative, meanwhile Aerith was there to be alive first. Everyone knows what happens to her, and sometimes people see her as a doomed figure, but people fail to realize that she is this doomed and sad /because she was so alive/, because she had so many plans for the future.

Another one who gets to be different than you'd expect at first is Sephiroth, because everyone knows how he is about Cloud /in the movie/late game/in the others content they appeared in/, but Sephiroth doesn't start out like that, neither in Crisis Core nor in the OG. And it's why i have beef with Sephiroth in the remake because it's "late game Sephiroth", not early game Sephiroth showing up.

And i think people know Sephiroth is a villain of legends that they just take it at face value, but it's not how he works. I was discussing with a friend who started ff7 by the remake and came to me really dubious because he thought a lot of things didn't make sense or broke the momentum and he was asking me to clarify. And the thing that took him out at the time was that he didn't understand how this Sephiroth is supposed to be anything "legendary". Like, nothing about his appearance in the remake was interesting to him and he was really peeved about it. The moment i told him "because Sephiroth doesn't appear in this part of the game originally and he has a slow built and doesn't start obsessing about Cloud until after their encounter in Junon" he understood everything, the moment i explained HOW Sephiroth was built of he got it. People know Sephiroth is a homoerotic threat to Cloud but people don't know how it actually built on that regard.

FF7 exists a lot in people mind in the way they think they know about it from what was told online, but trust me it's not the actual experience of the game. But how can you properly interreact with a game so legendary that it influenced so many new tropes? How do you come back to it? and so forth.

People in general will put it therefore in this type of gaming pedestal everyone has some idea on, seeing the characters more like archetype than they would know them.

but, yeah, personally i got into ff7 when i was 12 or so. I don't see them as archetypes as much as i see them as my friends. The plot of this saga is really dear to me in a way that runs way too deep (so deep i had to explain the plot to my therapist because it comes with "here's what you need to know about me")

ANYWAY i got lost in the sauce, but *coughs* i really do love how you explain the way you see Zack in particular though. Like, the way he's an omen. You are actually super right in a way you can't even imagine. Everything we know about Zack brings a reckoning and it's just. He's really my favorite example of "haunting the narrative". Once you know how he does, everything builds up only for it to explode when it comes to it.

Anyway. I could ramble about that all day long i have so many ff7 thoughts. There's def something about "what people expect from decade of cultural osmosis" vs "what's actually in the game", all of which also got muddied by the additions to the franchise.

but. yeah. man.

anyway very glad to be your window into what it is when you've been made insane by ff7. There's so much i could say, not enough time,

But thank you for reading o7

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!! 

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure. 

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

[theravennest]

Let’s Talk About Shang Chi...

I just got back from seeing Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. I had a great time with it. Just a lovely experience.

The fights were dope. The music was rocking. The actors’ performances really sold me on everything. I loved all the Xianxia elements. Y’all know fantasy worlds are my JAM!

But it was the characters that really drew me in. Every one of them were pitch perfect for me. The final act got a little jumbled, imo, but the characters and their dynamics were so good that it was enough for me to completely forgive and overlook the somewhat messy final battle. 

The story had a lot of heart. It was so personal and so anchored in real emotions. I highkey fell in love with all the main characters. I love their journeys and their complex  and grounded relationships with each other. I really liked the movie’s examination of grief, loss, and pain and the lengths people will go to in the wake of being overwhelmed by those feelings.

Let’s dig into it! This is gonna be a whole discombobulated mess, I just know it. lmao

***Spoilers below the cut!***

I really felt for Shang Chi, Xialing, and Wenwu struggling to figure out how to be a family again after they were all broken in different ways by the loss of Mama Ying Li. And each one of them trying in their own way to heal from it, some to extremely destructive degrees. 

How Wenwu treated his kids after being consumed by grief and violence was so utterly messed up but in two completely different ways. 

He treated Xialing like she was anathema, like she was literally nothing. Even when they were older and she had grown into an adult, he barely spoke to her in the entirety of the movie, could hardly even look at her. Partially because she looked like her mom and he retreated utterly from the pain of that, and partially because he constantly underestimated her in favor of her brother. This, of course, seeded the resentful tension between Xialing and Shang Chi from the start.

I’m a real sucker for sibling dynamics, as you all know. They’re my favorite types of family-oriented stories. (Side note, I really love the way the MCU has dedicated several stories to sibling relationships. It’s like my favorite thing in the MCU as a whole.)

I completely ate up the harsh and tricky relationship between Xialing and Shang Chi. Shang Chi completely let her down when they were kids, for her POV. (Not really his fault, he was a scared and traumatized 15 year old. Totally understandable.) But there is something to be said about the fact that she was also a child. A child dealing with her mom’s death too AND her dad’s aloofness. Then she was utterly abandoned by her brother. It’s no wonder she never quite forgives him, even though they mostly team up in the movie. They still have a lot to work out between them.

I really loved that she took on leadership of the Ten Rings at the end. The moment Shang Chi said she was “dismantling” their dad’s empire, I knew what was up. Though, the softy in me does hope that eventually they can find true reconciliation between them. I’m excited to see what we’ll see from her in future movies as a potential enemy of Shang Chi. It’ll be really interesting to see how Shang Chi tackles having to go up against his little sister.

And Shang Chi!!! OMG! Let’s talk Shang Chi and Wenwu now. When Wenwu drop kicked him into the ground and started the blame game for Mama Ying Li’s death like bro!!! I was so heated. He was 7 years old. A whole baby! She died because your thousand years of violence and conquering shit finally came home to roost. 

But that one line when Wenwu said Shang Chi’s 7 year old self “just stood there and watched” while his mom was killed actually revealed so much about Wenwu’s character. (The cutting way Tony Leung, a literal legend, delivered that was masterful, btw.) 

I actually think that it was the first time Wenwu has ever verbalized that he blamed Shang Chi for Ying Li’s death. Like maybe he’s always felt that way and all this time he was partially punishing Shang Chi for what he thinks of as a failure to protect or help the woman who meant so much to them.

Like, yes, he was training Shang Chi to take his place with him in the Ten Rings as an assassin but maybe he also wanted Shang Chi to kill his mom’s murderer as penance for letting her die in the first place.

Of course, it’s clear to see that Wenwu was absolutely shifting his own feelings of conflicting guilt onto his kids. Guilt that his past as a warlord is what got her killed. But also guilt that he put down the Ten Rings in the first place when if he had stayed a warlord, this never would have happened. But also the bone deep knowledge that if he hadn’t put down the Rings, Ying Li might never have stayed with him and loved him in the first place.

When Shang Chi threw it back at him that Ying Li probably wouldn’t love the person Wenwu had returned to, Wenwu looked so shook up. Phew! Perfect emoting from Tony Leung in that moment.

Honestly, Wenwu was having a very tragic and confusing time of it in this movie. Which is probably how that creature from beyond was able to find a crack in his psychic defenses and lure him to the gate. I had a lot of empathy for him even though I disagree so much with what he did to his kids, emotionally.

I really respect the fact that the movie never lost that sense of compassion for all of their feelings including Wenwu. I also respect that the movie really gave them space to grieve not just the loss of Ying Li but also the resulting dissolution of their happy family.

It’s just too bad that Wenwu’s grief made him push his kids away instead of pulling them closer. He completely emotionally abandoned them. A thousand years of power and supremacy yet he was broken because he never in that time fully learned how to process his emotions in a healthier way and his kids paid the price. They could’ve leaned on each other and on the love they found with Ying Li to help them get through but alas that’s the tragedy of the movie. 

I really wanted somehow for Shang Chi to make it through to his dad before he went too far to come back again. I genuinely did not want to see Wenwu die at the end. I wanted him to live and see Shang Chi’s changing dynamic with his father continue. I wanted to see him finally acknowledge his daughter as his true heir and see her accomplishments (dark though they will likely become considering the “softer” version of her is the one that ran an illegal fight club in Macao lmao).

Though I am happy Shang Chi got through to him enough at the end for Wenwu to save Shang Chi’s life, willingly pass the rings onto his son, and somewhat accept his own death after a thousand years of life. That was such a poignant moment between them. And I wonder if in that instant, Wenwu had the thought that in dying he’d at least see Ying Li again.

(Side note: I really hope his soul and the souls of everyone that got eaten were freed when Shang Chi killed the monster. I really want them to be able to move on to the next phase of existence. I really hope they weren’t destroyed after being eaten. I want Wenwu to reunite with Ying Li even in the afterlife, gotdamnit! Sue me, I’m a romantic.)

Let’s talk Simu Liu’s performance here for one second. He was incredible throughout. I completely bought into this strange but so real feeling that while he has a lot of anger towards his father, so much hurt, he also felt a lot of heartache and love for who Shang Chi wanted him to be. And the strange desire to want to help a man who emotionally scarred him so badly.

Simu really brought both sides of Shang Chi’s journey to life. Like, he was tying to find his own path, reconcile with the mistakes he’s made in the past (his sister, killing his mom’s murderer), and facing up against his father’s ideals and expectations. But there was also a side of Shang Chi’s journey that was about finally understand both his sister and his father’s point of views, and of learning/embracing his mother’s history. 

That moment by the lake when he revealed to Katy that he had actually killed the man who killed his mother. Whew boy! The emotions were so poignant. Simu Liu played it like *chef’s kiss* beautiful.

Speaking of character choices, I really rate this decision to have him actually go through with the assassination. It puts Shang Chi in an interesting position emotionally and somewhat morally. Instead of having his breaking point be him unable to kill as his father wishes, it’s instead the feeling of guilt and shame that he actually did kill the man.

I wonder if he felt a sense of satisfaction before the disgust and shame settled in. Because Shang Chi literally watched his mom die, he probably initially wanted to help his father hunt down the man because of that bit of dark need for vengeance. Until he got it, and felt ashamed to fully face his mother’s memory afterwards.

I’m interested to see how future Shang Chi movies and Simu will dig into and unpack that little bit of darkness these events instilled in the character.

Let’s talk Ying Li for a second here. This woman was incredible. An incredible martial artist, for sure, a mystical guardian and warrior...but she was also just an incredible person in general. Mama Ying Li was so self-assured, so steadfast in her convictions. She struck me as someone who knows exactly what she wants and is never afraid to reach for it.

Fala Chen portrayed her with such grace, warmth, and strength of character. It was extremely easy to see why Wenwu fell in love with her. She met Wenwu, a literal thousand year old warlord, and through shear strength of character led him to put down his weapons and his empire to make a home with her.

This man threw away his entire shadow army of assassins, threw away his whole plan to literally demolish her village in the pursuit of power...in order to play Dance Dance Revolution with her and their kids. (The highlight of their romance and the family flashbacks, for me, tbh.) 

And I know it’s not necessarily...positive BUT there is something...hmmmm, crunchy in the fact that Ying Li so completely altered Wenwu’s life by simply loving him that when she died he was willing to raze the whole world to get her back, damn the consequences.

Trying to properly explore toxic and negative turns in previously loving family dynamics is such a difficult task to take on. I really liked the complexity of the Xu family. All the actors really sold the family side of things. It was an almost tangible thing how much you could see how the love they felt had turned bitter and painful over the years.

The final battle was epic and mind blowing (There was a fucking DRAGON flying around for gods’ sake!) but I do wish it had stayed a little more grounded for longer in the beginning of it when the Ten Rings were fighting the Ta Lo warriors. I wanted to see more of that fight before they had the turn to becoming temporary allies against the soul suckers. It became a little too much of a CGI mash, for me, in some parts of it.

Still, the emotional beats held and the core of the story of this grieving family trying to hold on to the tatters of their world stayed consistent even through the final battle. I can forgive a lot because of the strong sense of character and connection there.

Plus, it’s a comic book movie. Spectacle is the name of the game and at least this one had cool fantasy beasts and dope fight choreo. 

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Let’s wrap it up here. Suffice it to say, I had a wonderful time with this movie. I’m ready for the next one!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Brotps

Ahh... to be a pair of bros trying to survive the dreadful world of the apocalypse together...to have a bro who watches your back so that walkers don’t get the drop on you, and to have a bro who is willing to actually listen to you when things are extra rough and you need support.... to probably watch your bro die a super shitty death because it’s twdg and you have no control over the situation...

Good times. 

So yeah, I wanna talk about some of my favorite brotps across this series. We tend to put more focus on romantic duos rather than friendships, so why not shine a spotlight on some platonic love, y’know? 

Also wanna note that I’m more talking canon brotps... as in I’m using what the actual games gave us rather than going off of headcanon... if that makes sense. So like, as much as I could like to put something like brotp Clementine and Mitch on the list since they’re one of my favorites to write, there isn’t enough in the actual text to justify putting them in a top 5. Understand? Cool? Cool. 

5. AJ and Tenn

I have such a soft spot for these two... which is super unfortunate since Tenn always ends up dead whenever I replay TFS because I refuse to have a dead or tongueless Louis by the end..... but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the friendship between these two before tragedy strikes. 

If you’re brave enough to not trust AJ, therefore sacrificing Louis or Violet, Tenn survives to the end of the season where he and AJ have a really nice heart to heart. If you haven’t at least watched how the scene plays out, I recommend it. 

I love the idea of AJ having someone closer to his age that he can have as a buddy, and I love the idea of Tenn learning how to be a better survivor from AJ. They can teach each other how to be better, y’know? 

Plus, it’s cute to hear AJ say that he likes Tenn the most, that he’s his first real friend. Somethin’ real wholesome about that. 

...Which again, adds to the tragedy of trusting AJ. Sigh. 

4. Javi and Tripp

I know I’ve said in the past that I wish these two could’ve had an actual romance, but y’know, we gotta accept that it’s never gonna happen in canon.... sigh. 

However, it’d be a sin to overlook the bromance these two have. 

Sure, they got off to a rocky start after Clementine kinda murdered that dude, but that doesn’t stop them from developing a friendship over the course of the season. 

One of my favorite moments between the two is when Tripp confides in Javi about his feelings for Eleanor, and in turn, Javi can explain what’s going on with him and Kate. While I disagree with the love interests actually being talked about, it’s still a quiet, real moment between them. Tripp isn’t afraid to be a bit of a poet when talking about his feelings, and Javi is supportive of that. Two bros who listen to each other? Love that. 

Also there’s something so damn tragic about Javi wanting to save his bro when Joan decides to be a proper antagonist and does the ol’ switcheroo on him. 

All in all, love this bro dynamic and will be forever salty that Tripp has two unpreventable deaths. 

3. Lee and Doug

I won’t talk too much about this one because I already covered it in my Top 5 Reasons Doug's Pretty Great, but I gotta put them on the list. So, to summarize:

Lee and Doug are the real bros of S1. Y’all thought it was Lee and Kenny? Nah man. When you’re friendship is so fragile that it could totally break with one single disagreement, then I can’t say it’s all that great. And yeah, you could argue that Doug is only Lee’s bro is you save him, and that’s true because otherwise, he’s super dead.

But after saving him, if you disagree with Doug on anything, he doesn’t immediately get all “Ya saved me ONE time, Lee! What have ya done fer me lately?? >:(” In fact, I’d argue that even if things went down differently, Doug would still be a good bro to Lee. 

So Doug wins the bro award. 

The two of them care about each other, from Lee worrying about Doug’s mental health, to Doug going out of his way to save Lee’s life at the dairy, to them having genuine feeling conversations. 

Again, want more details then go read the previous T5F. Just know that they’re best bros and I’ll die on this hill. 

2. Michonne and Pete

The Michonne mini-series gets a bad rap and that’s not okay. If you're one of many who skip this one when going through the series then shame because you’re missing out on one of the best pair of bros in this series-- Michonne and Pete. 

Listen, Michonne and Pete are great. They’re a couple of bros who have each others backs at all times, Pete cares so deeply about Michonne’s mental health and making she she has what she needs, Michonne feeling comfortable enough with Pete in confide in him about her daughters and the visions she has of them, and they’re more than willing to fight and sacrifice themselves for the other if necessary. 

Sure, they disagree on things, but their friendship isn’t built on “you have to agree with me” so they can actually work things out and be better for it. 

I just love them, okay? Pete wants her to feel like part of the crew and give her a safe space, and Michonne wants to help him in anyway she can, I just.... no one talks about them and it’s not okay. 

Go play Michonne, even if just for these two. They’re worth it. 

1. Clementine and AJ

Surprise.... but not really. 

C’mon, I think we all know that Clementine and AJ are the ultimate bros. Do I even need to explain? Probably not, but I will anyway. 

Clementine has know AJ since he was born, she has cared for him and did everything she could to get him back-- good and bad things. She could’ve said, “A baby? Fuck that.” but she didn’t, she took little baby AJ and protected and raised him. And we already know that AJ would do whatever he had to in order to protect Clementine back. 

True, the relationship isn’t perfect and miscommunication is, uh... a thing sometimes, but together they grow and become better. Even AJ makes terrible mistakes [y’know... like murder] she promises to help him atone... unless you’re one of the ones who tells him he’s justified which like no judgement or anything but..... y’know. Maybe a little side eye.

Anyway, more than that, they play off each other well and feel like two people who have know each other for years, they feel like a pair of siblings trying to survive in this shitty world and find a home together. 

And can’t forget to mention the cave scene. Not the one with James, but the one where AJ gets upset and the two of them talk some shit out. Don’t get me wrong, I love the James cave scene for how wild it is, but there’s something about the cave scene where it’s just Clementine and AJ, and the choice to trust him or not. 

Oh, and the barn scene? I mean.... c’mon. 

Over all, as far as platonic relationships and brotps go, Clementine and AJ are my favorite. Could write an essay on them and why their dynamic is one of the best parts of TFS but that’s not what we’re here to do. 

Clementine and AJ.... bros for life. 

---

Honorable Mentions

- AJ and Louis.... bros even after everything that went down with Marlon and Tenn.  -Clementine and Rosie. Rosie is best girl.  -Lee and Omid. Two history nerds who should’ve have more bro-time.  -Kenny and his mustache. -Lee and Ben. Yeah, I stand by it. I won’t shut up until someone gives me my Lee and Ben buddy cop dramedy.  -Mitch and Willy until the dumb thing happened.  -Clementine and Lee would count, too, but only really the second half of s1. -Nick and Luke but only for two episodes. -Louis and Violet’s friendship routes are pretty good, too. 

---

What are your thoughts? Do you agree or disagree with my picks? What are some of your favorite brotps? Lemme know! 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Best Executed Deaths

[patrick-in-the-junkyard]

My Girl.

Henry Bowers x Hanscomb! Reader

Notes: This was a request I gotten a while ago which I started on but never finished until now. Hope you enjoy! (Sorta canon, no clown lol) (A bigger note will be posted after I post this)

Summary: The reader dumps Henry after a stunt he pulls that involves your brother and hooks up with Patrick out of vulnerability (so a small Patrick X Reader. Through the broken hearts they still have feelings for each other and come to terms. 

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Alcohol, Sexual Harassment + Harassment, Physical Altercation, Unprotected Sexual Intercorse, Blood, and Some Angst. 

Words:+5000

(The song that inspired the title to this is called Where’s My Girl from The Sparks)

(GIF not mine)

     The pounding in your head got even worse as your younger brother hadn’t arrived home yet. You've heard about the missing kids including the tragedy that happened to the Denbrough family and their younger son. You stood looking out your open bedroom window that had a high up view of your driveway and the one that had a view of the side of your house. After walking downstairs, you took a glance at the clock. Eight-forty three, it had been hours since you last saw him and you sure hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

                                             ------------------------

     “Hey, Bro!” You attempted to get the attention of your younger brother as he stood outside of the Derry Scoop.

      “Mom says she's going to be out of town and I’ll be in charge of you for the next week. Grandpa has gotten really sick and she is going to be visiting him.” He frowned but then a smile formed on his face as he realized that you’d let him pick his bedtime.

     “Alright, well I’m going to the library, I’ll be back before dark so you don’t have to worry about me.” He turned to walk away, it was then a minute later when he finally disappeared from your sight.

                                             -------------------------

     You took a seat on the comfy couch, hands resting on the dial-up phone, contemplating if you should wait for it to be at least ten-o'clock before you even began to dial the Derry Police Station. Out to get your mind off things, you pick up the book filled with crossword puzzle off of the coffee table.  

     It was around nine-twenty when finally you heard the heavy footsteps of what seemed to be your brother coming up to the front porch. You jolted up, throwing the book down and rushing to the door. He was dusting his dirty shirt off and tried to fix his hair but it was too late. When you opened the door you felt relief to see him alive but it was until you looked into his saddened eyes and knew something was off. He looked as he tried to hide something from you as he tried to push through you. You stopped him, noticing the dried-up blood from his nose and his blood-caked shirt.

     “What happened?” No answer was given as he looked at you with bloodshot eyes, you then took the time to raise his bloody shirt to a messy placed bandage. It didn’t stop you there as you pull the tape off the bandage and see an ‘H’ carved on the side of his stomach. Your heart ached as your eyes traced the deep cut. You really didn’t want it to be true as you already had an assumption of who did this to him. 

     “Ben, who did this to you?” You questioned him, which he looked up and into your eyes as if he couldn’t get the name of the culprit out. 

     “It was your boyfriend, H-Henry.” He choked out, tears now pouring down his cheeks. It was true and inside your heart hurt, you felt crushed as you could only imagine what to do next. You walked him to the stairs, told him to go to your room as you sped to the phone. Spinning the dial, you call him expecting something but ending with no answer. Unknown to you, Henry was now hiding under his bed, cowering with silent sobs and shaky arms. His drunken father was home and the sound of the ringing phone with bottles breaking flooded his house. It wasn’t going to end well for him that night.

     You throw the phone down angered, you rush up and grab a load of new bandages. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, wiping his eyes and lifting his head at you. Rushing to his aid you lay the bandages on the bed and pull out a clean bath rag.

     “This is going to sting for only a second.” You pour the rubbing alcohol on a clean rag and placed it on his wound. He hissed in pain and you could only wish it would get better.

     “Why do you even like that guy?” His question made you stop tapping the rag on the wound.

     “Well, he treats me like I’m not an outcast like everyone else at school does and besides if he wouldn’t be a dick and you got to know him better you’d understand.” You tried to explain as best as you could, still knowing the damage was already done. You placed a fresh new bandage over the ‘H’ and taped the sides securely. 

     “All done, you should go downstairs and get supper. I made sloppy joes and french fries.” Your voice chirped high and cheery while you gave your brother a simple smile. He stood up and began to walk out until he got to the door frame and turned back around.

     “I met some new friends today. Like you said I should try to make friends this summer so I won't be alone and stuck with you.” You laugh as you could already guess what kids they were when they usually rode their bikes down your street while screaming.

     “Let me guess, the supposed losers club?” You gave a chuckle at the name as it was what they called themselves. Even during the past month right before the end of the school year, you’d hear them say random shit while walking behind you in the halls.

     “I guess that’s what they are called.” He responded, starting to walk away leaving you to do whatever you could to relax. You were definitely going to give Henry a piece of your mind the next morning.

                                             ---------------------------

     You woke up in a cold sweat, hearing your window bang closed with a loud clank. You bolted up and on your feet, prepared to knock out anyone who was intruding. Turning the lights on you were faced with nothing, nobody at all. But as you could see the room looked overturn and been rummaged through. It looked like your drawers were ransacked and the stuff inside moved around. Your underwear drawer was turned upside down but seemed as if nothing was taken. Opening, you take a softball bat that you'd had since seventh grade. You went downstairs slowly, listening to each creak on the wooden floor. Your fingers clenched the smooth softball bat you had in your hands. 

     You began to turn on every light in the house, leaving no corner of the house in the dark. It was insane as was no one incomplete sight, Ben heard the commotion downstairs and got up from his bed. He noticed that every single light in the house was lit and expected that it had happened again. 

     “Is everything okay?” He asked concernedly while taking a good long look at the bat in your hand and the panic on your face.

     “Yeah, just go back upstairs.” You told him, with no hesitation he ran back up to his room. Checking both doors, making sure they were still locked and in good condition.

     After putting everything back in place, you laid down and covered up in your blanket. Closing your eyes, you start to overthink to the point you pass out. 

                                                  ----------------------

    You spent the next morning downtown shopping at the local grocery store and looking at the displays in the windows of stores along the sidewalk. You carried a bags stocked with the canned beans, hamburger patties, two-liters of soda, and three quarters.   

     After looking around in Freese's Department Store for the past hour you walk out of the downtown area and past Victor’s house. You caught a little glimpse of people standing around and talking in his backyard. It only took you a second to decide to go back and see who was back there. Carefully you sat down your bags by the mailbox.

     You tiptoed to the back of the house and of course, Henry had his back turned to you and standing around him was Victor, Belch, and Patrick. Patrick was the first to notice you stomping up the side of the house. His grin gleamed on his face as he could recognize that you found out about the event that took place the other day.

     “You really had to pick on my younger brother you rat headed asshole!” Running up behind Henry you push him to the ground, paying attention to him only. You left one punch to the back of his head,  Patrick jumped down trying to grab at you but ended with your hand colliding with his face. Victor grabbed your arms from behind and pulled you up with a strong grip. Henry stumbled up and gradually walked towards you, his face close to yours that you could smell the cigarettes on his breath.

     "You're so lucky I haven't treated you badly yet and slapped you down like the slut you are!" His hot breath hit your face and you struggled to break loose.

     "Maybe we should tie her up and show her what she's good for..." Patrick said, which ended up with him getting shushed. Belch looked with worried eyes at you but was speechless. Tears began to trickle from your eyes and pour down your face. You felt hatred for Henry and you managed to slightly kick him as you struggled as Vic’s fingers tightened on your arms.

     "You hurt my brother, what am I supposed to do praise you and suck your dick!" You yelled into his face, almost falling to the ground. You felt vulnerable, emotionally drained and nauseous all at once. Victor dropped you, making you fall onto the ground face first.

           “I’m done-, I can’t do this bullshit anymore!” You limped away from him, leaving him speechless and surprisingly hurt. It’s never felt like this for him, every time conflict or a breakup would happen in a relationship he'd brush it off and start to flirt with another. He was genuinely hurt and disappointed this time, and definitely couldn't stand it. It was like he had actually felt heartbroken.

     You stumble back to where you had dropped your bag sat and started on your way, limping from the fall. When arriving home, you tiptoed to the bathroom and stood in the mirror. Bruises lined your arms from the altercation, Vic certainly had a hard strong grip on you.  

     A loud knock broke you from your trance. Of course, your brother saw you go into the bathroom and began to notice how long you were in the bathroom and grew very concerned.

     "Are you okay in there?" You opened the door to not make him worry any longer.

     "Yeah, What's up?" You did your best to cover your arms up.

     "Bill is having a sleepover, could I go, pretty please?" He begged to know since if he would ask his mother she would definitely take hours to decide or plain say no.

     Before you could think of anything to say you both heard a loud crash in the kitchen.

     "-Look what you did you dip shit!-"

     "-You were supposed to catch it Eds!-" The quarrel became louder and louder as you got closer to the kitchen.

     A blue glass plate, now shattered into little tiny pieces, littered the kitchen floor. It was clear that one of the kids that stood in front of it had to be the culprit.  

     "Oh fuck- that's Bowers girl!" They all had frozen still, fear in their eyes. You knew how Bowers was to them and you felt bad about it. If you could you would try to help them.

     It was until then that you decided to put a big smile on your face, look at Ben and tell him he’s free to go for the night and to just give you a call. The other kids went from almost terrified to ‘Hell yeah Ben can come’. Ben rushed up the stairs to his room to pack. 

     “Hey pretty lady, Richie Tozier’s the name and doing voices is my game.” The kid reached his hand out for you to shake it but one of the other boys slapped his hand away. 

     “-Dude!-”

     “Beep Beep, Richie!”

     “Oh I know you, what would you think Henry Bowers would do if he saw you talking to me. Besides I’m way out of your league.” You joked before you turned away from them and went up to your room.

     “Holy shit you just got burned by Henry’s girl.” They all laughed to which Richie just shrugged it off.

     Ben had put an outfit, a few books, a VHS tape, probably The Breakfast Club, and a few of his notebooks. Before he could leave, he had to stop by and say goodbye. He gave you a bear hug before walking out the door with his friends.

                                             ------------------------

     It was about 9 o clock and you were finally alone. It was about the third time you had gone into the bathroom to look at your bruises.

     Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were appreciating the large colorful tee covering the silky neon pink underwear you wore. It was as if you looked like you had attended one of Gretta Bowie’s ‘slutty’ sleepover afterparties. It had been hours since the altercation and the bruises had started to fade. No need to worry about it now

     Treating yourself, you walk to your mother’s liquor cabinet that stood in the kitchen and grabbed a few things out. Walking to the kitchen, you take a glass out, pouring and mixing more than one drink, not even caring about how you would feel in the morning. After at least ten minutes of hardcore drinking, you felt the blood rush to your head as you walk back upstairs giddy. You were certainly buzzed. 

     “All we need is a little music and we could have a personal party.” You spoke out loud to yourself.

     You went to your cassette player on your dresser, putting one of the tapes you’d accidentally taken from Belch’s Trans Am. You've ridden with all of them while on Henry’s lap, while his hands were in your hair. There were times where you brought you cassettes because Belch was curious of what you listened to. It was when one of your tapes got mixed with his and you hadn't seen it since.

     The tape that you had now was labeled “Date Night” in messy writing which consisted of -of course- loads of rock love songs from previous years. Your favorite song out of the whole tape was ‘My Kind Of Lover’. You could only imagine what happens during this song when it's playing in the Trans Am. 

     You couldn’t help but rock your hips side to side to the beat of the song not taking notice of your windows open blinds. Your whole street could now see you dance, half-naked and drunker than a frat boy at a party. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, only a month prior to this occasion there was another incident. As your neighbor, Mr. Keene caught a group of boys that stood by your mailbox ogling at your figure in the window. One of their flashlights shined into his and his wife’s room on accident and they thought as they were in the clear.

      It was until Mr. Keene scared the living shit out of them and made them start running. Of course, that was before they couldn’t be identified. Let's just say that their mothers weren’t pleased with their sons and you for “showing off your body” to their “delicate sons”.

     Sounds of pebbles hitting your window hard had stopped your dancing daze, it’d had almost felt like the night before. There was only one catch, your room wasn’t turned upside down because there was no one there and the noise was coming from outside.

     “Ugh, Patrick you’re such a cliche.” You looked over and out your window and see him standing, waiting for your silhouette to open and peek out the window. He mouthed for you to let him in giving off his signature look. Knowing him you had to let him in or else he’d break in another way.   

     Stupidly running downstairs, you make your way to the front door. Looking through the peephole you see Patrick now with a lit cigarette in his mouth. You were going to have to open the door.

     He walked in, his muddy boots making dirty prints on the nice freshly waxed wooden floor. You were considering just running out but you had to stay and protect your house. Your only worry was now safe asleep at a friends house, exhausted after watching Sleepaway Camp with his group of friends.

     You shut the door to only be met with nothing behind you and the sound of someone pouring Alcohol. His cigarette was placed in the ashtray on your kitchen counter. He had taken a plastic cup from your cabinet and poured random drinks, but mostly Vodka in and chugged it down. Some had missed his mouth and ran down his chin onto his shirt. He crushed the cup and threw it next to the trash can, missing it completely.

     “I saw your little show from outside Princess, that was some hot shit.”  He sounded majorly aroused but there was no doubt that he was. 

     “What show? My dancing?” You could barely hear yourself let alone him since your music was at a high volume. He nodded which was your cue to go upstairs to turn your cassette player off.

     He followed you up to your room and watched you remove the tape which he took from your hands. His eyes skimmed the tapes label taking a laugh at the title.

     “You know Belch was looking for this the other day, He had a very special date and couldn’t find this. In the case was something totally bizarre and ruined his date.” You laughed at his comment but couldn’t help but feet bad.

      You sit down on your bed and he tries to sit on the fluffy stool in front of where you sat. He almost drunkenly tipped over and fell on his ass making you laugh.

     “Why are you even here? What do you want?” You asked him, heart now racing. He stood up and leaned over you. His rough, damp fingers traced your arms. It was when he leaned in and licked your face only making you shiver in disgust and confusion. He kissed your lips roughly and sloppy, ignoring your disgust. It was when he moved over to your neck that you couldn’t help but scream out.

     “Wait-!!” He stopped only for a moment and then continued on. 

     “I still love Hen-.” He kept kissing your neck until you pushed his head off of you.

      “He won't know, we don’t have to go all the way if you don’t want to.” He practically begged for your touch as he always did seeing you around Henry and the gang.

     “Would you try to talk to him if I do this.” At this point in time, you were desperate to see him again. In your heart, you felt as if you could make a deal with Henry to at least leave your brother alone. He grinned and nodded, even if he lied you felt like you had no other choice.

     His actions began again as he starts back at your neck, his fingers traced down to your panties. Fingers gliding over the now prominent wet spot lining your underwear, your breath hitched as he pushed his thumb again the fabric. He let out a small groan, he could feel his half-hard cock twitch and start to rise in his pants.  

    You began to feel anxious as his hand began to tug at your panties, his tongue gliding on your neck. You got up and pulled down your panties for him, looking deep into his soul.

     His smile was plastered on his face as he unzipped his pants pulling them down to his knees. You sat back down, unknowing of what to do next. 

     His cock was glistening and flushed a pretty reddish-pink, it looked as it had been painfully erect for a while. His pale hand gripped yours painfully as he slowly moved it onto his hard-on.

     “You feel that? You did that to me.” Your hand was small compared to his cock. He had a hold of your wrist, guiding your hand up and down his cock. You couldn’t help but laugh to the point that if anyone had seen your face you’d be compared to a tomato. 

     He took a headful of your hair and pulled you back making you gasp.

     “Do you want a taste.” You nodded and he pushed your head near the tip of his cock. You couldn’t help but lick the tip. Because of this he slowly bucked his hips up into your mouth, making you take more into your mouth. He pushed your head way down and that was when you choked and pulled off before you could vomit. 

     “Keep strokin’.” His face was dotted with beads of sweat, you kept your pace with your hands meeting his thrusts. That was when he flipped his head backward, grunting loud and deep.

     “Fuck-” He came all over your hand, his face in complete bliss.

     You were in awe, ‘So this is why Hockstetter gets a lot of girls.” You couldn’t help but think to yourself.

     “Your turn now.” You get on your knees, then it had hit you. The last thing you remember is looking at Patrick’s expression before closing your eyes and blacking out.

     “Shit, Good enough.” Patrick was heavily disappointed but decided as this was already worth the phone call he was going to make to Henry the next morning. He laid back, letting sleep take over his body. 

    ��                                     -------------------------------

     Waking up was weird for you, your head pounded and you felt a little sick to your stomach. Last nights events then played through your mind and you then realize why you felt that way. Patrick was talking on the phone, his back towards you.

     “Just talk to her Henry, she loves you... Okay ill tell her if I see her downtown, I'm taking a walk to Vic’s. I’ll see you later.” He slammed the phone down and turned around.

      “Go see him, he’ll be waiting. Also when you get him back you owe me big time Princess.” 

     He opened your door walking out and left your house without saying another word.

                                           ------------------------------- 

    You stood at his front door, already knowing his father would already be on duty this night. You knocked as hard as you could, trying to see if anyone was there at all. After a minute, you began to turn around, giving up, until the door opened. There was Henry, shirtless, his pants covered in dirt and oil, hair greasy and a tempting smile.

     “What the fuck you want?” He kept glancing back while waiting for you to answer.

     “We really need to talk.” He huffed and then moved to the side letting you in. The air smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and dirt which was normal because his dad never cleaned up. It was always Henry.

     “Sit your ass down.” He pointed to his bed, your eyes darted to his walls, tracing to the little prints in the yellow wallpaper. 

     “Henry, you know how much I care for my brother. You have to understand, I have to look out for him because I don't want him to end up like our dad. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you that wasn’t me, I was just so angry that you hurt him.” You were tear-jerked as you tried to explain what had gone down in that brain of yours.

     Deep in his heart, he hated seeing you like this. He really did care about you just had the hardest time expressing it.

     “Come ere.” His arms were open and you wrapped your arms around him, taking his scent of cheap cologne and beer.

     “You missed me that much huh?” You laughed but then pushed up and away from him, crossing your arms.

    “I want you to carve an h on me Hen.” He gave a look of concern and shock at first.

     “Are you sure, I mean-.”

     “Yes, I don't think its fair for you to mark my brother.” He took a moment to collect his feelings and then got out his switchblade. You lifted your tee to show the side of your stomach. He popped the blade open and put it towards your skin. The blade pressed into your skin, a stinging pain was all that it felt like. Tears rolled down your face by the time he was done. 

      “Shhh, It’s okay.” He began to press soft kisses on your cheek down to your neck. It was in the heat of the moment when you took your shirt off to show off the bra you had on. His eyes traced the pretty blue lace that cupped your breasts. He put his fingers until the straps and pulled them down before moving the cups from your bra down. Taking one look at your now hard nipples he leaned down and took one into his mouth, other between his fingers.

     He yanked down your underwear, ready to touch you but before he could do that you begged.

     “Henry, Please fuck me!” At that remark, he unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out of his briefs, giving it a few strokes. Moving over to you he had placed his cock at your dripping wet entrance, taking a deep breath he pushed in.  

     “Oh fuck!” He held still for only a moment, knowing if he were to move for a second he wouldn’t last. There you were, his girl, in his bed only, under him, he couldn’t think of anything better. He then started to move, starting off slow and gradually building up a faster pace. Placing your leg over his shoulder, he thrust at an angle, making his cock rut against your g-spot. 

     “Oh- Henry!” Your hands were in his hair as his hips snapped a faster rhythm, making the sound of his cock meeting your wet entrance echo throughout the room. You felt the heartbeat in your lower region grow as you become closer and closer to falling over the edge. A finger made it’s way, trailing towards your clit, swirling gentle circles onto it. That was it, that was all it had to take to push you over. 

     “That's right, come on my cock Princess, fuck! I’m coming-” He pressed his face into your neck, biting down roughly. He fucked into you three more times before coming to a complete halt, spilling his cum deep inside you. The only sound that fills your ears was both your breathing. Now, you both were sweaty and dirty. Henry's body has flushed a bright red and his hair stuck to his forehead.

     “You sure put up a fight a few days ago, if I knew you needed some dick this badly I would have fucked you on the spot.” He laid snuggled into your body, craving the current embrace. It was when he got up and looked down, leftover blood had gone onto his stomach and down to his pubic hair. His hair was puffed up, greasy and sweaty.

     “You wanna shower with me, I'll clean you up and we can talk about everything.” 

     “Yes on one condition, could you wash my back?”

     “Yea sure sweetheart but we have to hurry up. You don’t want the gang walkin’ in on us in the shower, do ya?.” He grabbed a random pair of clothes out of the pile on his bed. He began his way toward the bathroom but waiting outside the door for you to follow

     You smiled to yourself and made your way to his bathroom.

                                             ----------------------------

     It wasn't until later when the rest of the gang arrived and noticed that you were tangled into Henry’s arms on the couch.

     They didn’t question anything and kept silent, but only Patrick knew.

     Later on, after sitting around drinking and watching MTV, Henry, Belch, and Victor went to go to the other room to grab a pack of beer out of Henry’s room.

     Patrick looked over at you, grin on his face.

     “Remember, you owe me, Princess.”

                                           ----------------------------

     It was around 10:30 when you gave Henry a kiss on the cheek and opened the car door. Hoping off of him and outside, you turn around and lean into the window.

     “Remember, Call me later.” 

     “Yeah, I know. I love you, Princess.”

     “Love you too Hen.”

     You stepped away and watched the car speed off down the street, causing some people to wake up from the sound. Warm, warm was all that you felt, your heart felt like it was on fire with butterflies flying around. It was time to go inside.

     The door was locked so you tried the doorbell, it was when you heard a bunch of yells inside.

     A girl opened the door, she had red short hair and her face was dotted with freckles. 

     “Another sleepover huh?” You asked and she replied with a yes. 

     Walking in, there were empty pizza boxes on the floor and a loud booming sound coming from the living room. Your brother stood along with two other kids, Richie Tozier, and Stan Uris, poorly reenacting movie scenes making the others cringe and laugh at their attempt of acting.

     “Hey Ben, come here for a second.” He moved away from the game, having Mike now take his place. He walked with you to the kitchen, you opened the pizza box on the table and took out a slice of pepperoni.

     “If you feel embarrassed because of that scar don't worry cause now we have the same one” You lift up your shirt to your waist showing off a fresh, deep cut. Carved into your skin was an ‘H’. He was a little confused but didn’t dwell on it too hard.

 You walked upstairs, excited for that phone call that would come soon enough.

                                                       --------------

Taglist: @pattycake-hockstetter, @forgottencandy, @bowersgangvslosersclub (If you want to be added for Bowers Gang stuff just inbox me)

[rileybraxton]

Name: Riley Braxton Nickname: Brax Age: 34 FC: Paul Wesley Occupation: Tattooist at Scorpion Studios Side: Wicked Wolves Length of stay in Charming: approx. 14 years Positive traits:  + loyal, + crafty, + brave  Negative traits: - damaged, - suspicious, - hotheaded

triggers: parental adultery. drug abuse. addiction. crime. needles. 

✚ middle child ✚ due to his mother having an affair ( for years ) he and his elder brother share different fathers. however, he and his younger brother share the same father ( the guy mamma cheated with )  ✚ he was always a reckless child. it only worsened when he hit his teens and fell in with bad crowds ✚ staying out, doing disappearing acts or coming home drunk, if not drugged up too ✚ to be honest, his entire attitude stunk. he showed little to no respect for his parents, or older brother who he considered a bit of an uptight snoot ✚ if he’s honest, the only person he wasn’t a total asshole to was his younger brother ✚ he was 16 when he came home and caught his mother in bed with another man. not just any man, but his fathers best friend. the truth was exposed, it turned out that the affair had been going on for years  ✚ his mother begged him not to tell and promised to end it and he agreed. asshole so he was, he didn’t want to be the reason his father crumbled and his brother ended up with a broken home ✚ his motive may have started out purely but over the months, his bitterness? it only festered. his behaviour worsened, the disrespect began to have an impact on his parents relationship. the father just couldn’t seem to understand why his wife was seemingly letting him get away with everything he was doing ✚ he’d ask her for money which he only went out and spend on drugs. small things at first, a pill here, a spliff there. somewhere along the way he managed to get hooked on heroin, though amazingly he did manage to hide his needle poked arms ✚ it was amidst a drugged up haze that he felt some kind of penny drop. he was sat on the rooftop, watching his parents, his brother and his fathers best friend when he noticed something he hadn’t before ✚ the similarities between his man and his brother, between this man and him. the more he sat and stared, the more he couldn’t see a trace of his “father” in his own features, nor his younger brothers ✚ all it took was one out-loud thought and his mother confirmed everything with the simple look on her face. it was a lot to process, too much in-fact. which is what lead to an explosive dinner that same evening ✚ his “father” was laying into him, which wasn’t unusual. shaming him for being such a fuck up. usually he’d sit silently and take it, but this time? the words came flying out his mouth before he could think to stop them “who the fuck are you to talk to me like that? you’re not even my father. ain’t that right, mom?”  ✚ the truth came out in a hateful splurge. everything from how the affair had been going on at least 17 years, straight to “oh, and the guy? sitting right next to you” aka, the best friend ✚ so, his not so biological father ended up focusing that betrayal back onto riley, which resulted in the pair of them going toe to toe, breaking everything in sight as they threw their punches ✚ being a little shit, he was fully egging him on, “come on. that’s right. hit me. your wife’s a whore and you’re laying into me? makes perfect fucking sense” ✚ it wasn’t until he managed to get him on the floor that he noticed his little brother on the staircase, pausing the punch he was about to land on his fathers face. a simple “shit” under his breath ✚ he got up instantly, all that rage on his face disappeared and replaced with a soft warmth that he reserved only for his brother. he left to take him back up to bed, leaving his parents and the not so decent best friend to fight it out between themselves ✚ in the end it turns out they decided to stay together and try and work through it, but it only served to create a toxic environment ( more so ) ✚ riley was 20 and fully hooked on drugs when he got himself arrested for grand theft auto and it was the icing on the cake for both parents ✚ they didn’t exactly kick him out, but they made it clear he wasn’t welcome unless he cleaned his act up  ✚ surprisingly, he did try, but only after he packed up and moved in with a friend. he went cold turkey and yes, that shit fucking sucked. it was basic agony for at least three weeks before he began to feel like he was getting better ✚ rather than return home, he did perhaps one of the shittiest things a person could do & he stole his mothers jewellery that were basically family air-looms, pawned them for a few grand, bought a car and hit the road ( not before saying goodbye to his little bro and promising him he would call and visit all the time. )  ✚ in truth, he wanted to take him, but he knew it was selfish, especially when he didn’t even have a secure home ✚ he ended up in charming, fresh faced and sober. he stayed in a motel for a few months, saving money from odd jobs and focusing his energy on building a life for himself ✚ he’d always been creative, drawing & sketching came so naturally to him that he decided to train up and become a qualified tattoo artist ✚ at 22, he finally got his own place to rent and things were looking up. he’d passed his courses with flying colours, made a couple friends and even met a girl who he fell head over heels for  ✚ the only trouble was, this girl was just as reckless as he was and their entire relationship was something like a beautiful tragedy. they’d party most nights and for the first few months, everything was fine. he managed to say no every time she’d offer him a pill, every time her friends offered something stronger. truth be told, he’s not sure exactly when he slipped up, or even why. but he did, and there he was once again sticking needles in his arms and wasting away. ✚ he ended up breaking up with his girlfriend and she hit the road with a couple pals not long after - he’s never seen her since ✚ he did a good job at hiding his problem, still managing to hold down his bar jobs to pay his rent, at least for a few months. everything changed when his 14 year old brother showed up on his doorstep with all his bags ✚ once again, he forced himself to go cold turkey. if his brother insisted on living with him, riley didn’t want him to watch him destroy himself. so really, he’s quite thankful that his brother showed up when he did, who knows, it probably saved his life ✚ back on track and finally in a good place, he fell in with the wolves and quickly realised that’s exactly where he needed to be ✚ some may say it’s tempting fate, running drugs considering he’s an addict, but he vowed the day they accepted him into their fold that he’d never make them regret it ✚ fyi, he hasn’t. whilst he has fell off the wagon twice since, he never did the wolves dirty. anything he took, he paid for, any job they gave him, he completed ✚ he probably drinks more than he should and he still enjoys a spliff, but he’s never touched any other drug in 3 years and to be honest, he’s very proud of himself ✚ he got a secure job at scorpion tattoo studios 2 years ago & he really enjoys it ✚ sooo, he’s clean, he has a job, a home, a family in the form of wicked wolves and a good set of friends. life is pretty sweet ✚ that’s not to say he’s not still very hot headed & impulsive. probably quite fuckin’ damaged too, but hey, all the best people are ✚ thanks for reading my novel 

wanted connections:

✚ younger brother - CLOSED ✚ oldest brother(who’s probably a cop or smth straight shooting) - OPEN ✚ friends - OPEN ✚ old/new enemies - OPEN ✚ friends with benefits - OPEN ✚ the original ex girlfriend mentioned above - OPEN ✚ maybe a repeat client who lets him tattoo him/her with his own designs? - OPEN ✚ someone who knows he’s a recovering addict maybe? since i imagine he doesn’t typically share that info, it could be someone who’s seen him attend a meeting, or is even a recovering addict themselves - OPEN ✚ literally anything! 

[malachi-walker]

Some Really Heavy Thoughts on the Relationship Between Scorpia and Catra

Fair warning, guys: I'm gonna get into some deeply personal stuff involving abuse recovery and past mistakes here. I will not be making excuses for Catra or her treatment of Scorpia, but well... Let's just say there's a reason why their relationship has always me wince. Because it touches on some stuff that is likely relevant to a lot of ex-abuse victims.

This entire meta stems from an epiphany I had while discussing with @johannas-motivational-insults how I have a really hard time writing Scorpia, and me trying to pinpoint what exactly makes me so uncomfortable working with her or looking at her relationship with Catra in detail.

Let me back up a bit. We all love Scorpia. She's a big cuddly sweetheart without a mean bone in her body. She's fantastic, a bright point in the overall suckage that is the Horde, and she gives GREAT hugs. So why does their relationship bother me so much?

Well... It's because I've been there once before in my own life. And it's one of my deepest regrets, so seeing that play out on screen and instinctively knowing where this is going fucking sucks.

Personal stuff under the cut.

We've already covered Scorpia being a good kid. That said, I feel like a lot of people just flanderize her into being this perfect wonderful friend who wholly accepts Catra (and conversely either woobify Catra or make her a horrible monster who doesn't appreciate a good thing) but... the truth is a lot more nuanced than that.

Scorpia doesn't wholly accept Catra because in order to truly accept someone you have to see them for who they really are, warts and all, and Scorpia doesn't. She idealizes Catra and either ignores or downplays her very real flaws and problems, and tries to excuse any actions she commits that don't live up to that constructed image, which is of course what she confronts in s4 (and I’m proud of her for that.) It's not done with any ill intent, but it's still not a good thing in any relationship; romantic, platonic, familial, any kind.

Here's where things get real personal. Also, I wanna specify that I am not forcing myself to talk about this, even though it still hurts in a lot of ways. Though I am probably gonna bring this up with my therapist when I next see her.

I've mentioned before in previous meta that I am an ex-child abuse victim who followed a very similar trajectory to Catra once I got out of that situation. I was angry, I was hurt, and I was ADAMANT that nobody get close to me again and fully prepared to lash out as much as I needed in order to make that happen. Occasionally people would slip through my guard anyway, but on the whole I was very successful at that goal and torpedoed a lot of bridges back in those days.

And as much as it kills me to admit it... I had my own Scorpia too.

Her name was Amy, and I met her in my freshman year of high school after I ended up in a private school for the “gifted and talented” (which ended up being its own mistake, but that's a story for another day.)

To put this entire situation into perspective: at the time I was struggling to process and cope with my abuse, I had just been misdiagnosed with major depression after an entire year of contemplating suicide, and I had been put on a ridiculously high dosage of the antidepressant Wellbutrin--literally the highest dosage they could legally give an adolescent without the risk of seizures--which cranked my rage up to a constant underlying simmer and also gave me horrific fucking nightmares, to the point that for about a year and a half I was consistently only getting two hours of sleep because I was waking up screaming nearly every night. This is not me making excuses for being such a dick, but I do try to keep in mind that younger me was dealing with an absolute shitshow when passing judgment on myself. I was trying to survive a situation that absolutely no one was equipped to handle at all of 14 years old.

And then here comes Amy.

Amy was one of those people who was relentlessly optimistic to an almost suspicious degree (more on that later.) The kind of person who will reply to any statement of "I'm having a bad [x]" with generic look-on-the-bright-side platitudes and a big smile without actually addressing anything you said. She was also one of those people who was aggressively Christian, not in a mean way, but in an "it was her answer for literally everything" way, which given that I was struggling with my own faith at the time was practically a recipe for disaster.

But for whatever reason, this girl latched onto me, no matter how much I tried to get her to do otherwise.

I wanna note that I wasn't wholly devoid of friends at the time; my best friend, Michael (who is still my best friend/bro to this day) had also gotten into the school along with me, but the rest of our friend group hadn't and those relationships drifted apart in the ensuing years, which only served to compound the underlying issues. And I will always be thankful that the guy was able to roll with the punches and stick by me even through my absolute worst, but it was also pretty irritating having to switch between my bro who understands me even if he didn’t always agree to my much tenser interactions with Amy. So back to her.

Basically, this girl just kinda inserts herself into my life, refuses to take a hint or back off, and any time I try to talk about my issues or get her to understand a little and make an actual connection, I'm met with the overwhelming feeling of "You're not really seeing me. You're not listening." So I responded by being a fucking bitch. I would ignore her, make fun of her, treat her like a third wheel, etc. In hindsight, it was a dick move, but at the time it made sense to me. I genuinely felt like it was her fault for never listening to me in the first place, so I justified it by telling myself I was just paying her back in kind.

I lost touch with Amy after I was kicked out of school at the tail end of freshman year due to a Wellbutrin-induced rage episode (nobody got hurt, but my attitude at the time was so consistently extreme that the school administration literally had an inch thick dossier on my behavior and what the other kids thought of me, so that incident was just what they needed to justify kicking me out.) Afterwards, my parents made the decision to relocate to another town since my expulsion meant I would be banned from going back into school for a full year unless we changed systems--and even then I was required to go into a continuation school to prove I had been rehabilitated, but I digress. Point is that I was uprooted from that environment and I didn't bother keeping in touch.

I actually found out years later from a friend who went to that same high school--though we didn't actually become friends until after my expulsion--that the reason why Amy was the way she was is that in the year prior to meeting me, her mother had committed suicide and she had been the one to discover her body. So in hindsight, her entire deal made sense: she was trying to survive in the only way she knew how and cope with a situation no one should ever have to, same as me.

But that didn't mean we were able to connect. The great tragedy of that situation, and the thing I regret the most about it, is that we were just two horribly damaged kids that were utterly incapable of actually seeing each other as we were at the time. And it ultimately wasn't anybody's fault, which ironically makes it even harder to accept.

I regret the way I treated her. I wish I could have made her life a little better, and I still hope and pray she got the help she needed elsewhere.

That's what makes Scorptra so incredibly tragic to me as well. Scorpia is a good-hearted person who does genuinely care for Catra, but she also willfully blinds herself to the things Catra is dealing with and her relentless optimism often just ends up rubbing salt in the wounds. Catra is wrong to treat Scorpia so badly, but I also fully understand those feelings of resentment and anger you develop towards someone when they consistently refuse to see you as you are, because I've been there. And that's also why I've always had a hard time with Scorptra romantically (though if you ship it, good for you! I honestly wish I could), because those issues have always been present in their relationship and made it unsustainable from the very beginning.

Something was always destined to break between them. And that's what makes it so damn hard for me to write Scorpia as a character, because in many ways she reminds me of one of the things I regret the most in my life: how I treated someone else who had the best intentions horribly when I was at my absolute worst. These days I try to be kind to my past self as part of the healing process, but when I think of my actions in that year it is really fucking hard. I don't like to think about it, even though I know I feel like I need to (which is also why this meta exists.)

Neither Scorpia or Catra were at fault for the fact that they couldn't see each other properly: it was just a really bad case of wrong place, wrong time. And that's what makes it hurt.

Also, if you made it this far, I'm sorry this was so depressing. Please have a happy cat and scorpion to hopefully feel a little better. Also huge shoutout to @yesbpdcatra for encouraging me to get this out there. You're the best, fam.

[halorocks1214]

the law of attraction

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5464

Summary:  The Law of Attraction demonstrates how we create the things, events, and people that come into our lives. Our thoughts, feelings, words, and actions produce energies which, in turn, attract like energies. Negative energies attract negative energies and positive energies attract positive energies

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | You are here!

holy shit i need to stop telling myself to keep my fics short cuz thats what always makes them three times longer than i originally planned. anYWAYS, i know the point of fabfivefeb is kinda to focus on one bro a week specifically, buuuut my brain grabbed my face, yelled an idea into it and now this is going to be a full series i guess. i hope this still counts! also, just as a warning, the first few fics are going to be chronologically out of order-- gordons pov fic, aka this one, comes like, almost last in the line of fics i have planned-- but im hoping that just adds to the aesthetic im giving this series

thanks again to @gumnut-logic​ for the wonderful prompt ideas. i used “How did you do that?” and iridescent

--------

If you asked just-turned-10-years-old Gordon what he thought of his kid brother, you would probably be horrified at the things he could and did say.

Nowadays the 22-year-old felt bad about it-- like, exponentially so-- but back then he couldn’t help it. It was a Tracy rite-of-passage to not want a younger sibling when they came-- yes, even Scott, who Gordon secretly believed it was his fault for John being so nerdy. You should have wanted a nice pair of tennis shoes in his place, Scotty, not a chemistry kit.

Gordon, for all intents purposes, managed to be the worst-case out of four. Virgil wondered if his fiery temper rubbed off on Alan growing up, and the more Gordon caught wind of how Alan could be when angry, the more Gordon thought his immediate older brother was right.

Regardless, everyone in the family managed to at least get the OG Tracy baby to play nice when Alan was born. Gordon’s involvement could be described as nothing: he never did anything to actively harm Alan (he was raised better than that, c’mon), but whenever Gordon could get away from the tiny tot, he did. A couple of years went by, the world adjusted to five Tracy sons, and so did the Tracy family. Even Gordon was starting to see the merit in being an older brother.

Then, tragedy struck.

The avalanche that ripped apart their entire world came crashing down in more ways than one. Hoo boy, the tabloids had a field day with it. They always wanted to know every little detail, and when the family refused to give them anything, they came up with their own stories. The only details they got were from cheating, as a nosy reporter managed to grab a picture of 3-year-old Alan fighting for his life in the hospital, and the internet ran with it.

It was very quickly found out that their mother had died in the disaster as well, and along with the little snake’s photo of Alan, accusations were thrown around as if they were nothing more than plush baseballs, not full-blown knives digging into the Tracy men’s skin. Where was Jeff Tracy? Did he leave his wife and youngest to perish without a thought? The man did have four older sons, maybe he considered them to be more valuable? The last child wasn’t a planned addition in the first place, so it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume so!

What they would never know, Gordon thought bitterly and spitefully, was how Alan wasn’t the only Tracy kid that played in the snow that day. Alan easily got sick as a child for undetermined reasons, and lo and behold, the tiny blonde started running a low-grade fever during their vacation. Lucy offered to stay with Alan at the cabin while Jeff went to find an on-sight doctor. Virgil, who was starting to get into that kind of stuff, went with him.

John saw… something in the gift shop he wanted to grab (none of the brothers could really tell you that much about that day anymore), and since it was relatively close to where Jeff needed to ask for a doctor, the parents felt it would be okay for the red-head to explore the shop by himself, especially since John was easily the most well-behaved out of the children. Gordon was going to go with them to-- what did you expect-- get away from Alan. That’s when smother-hen-in-the-making Scott suggested Gordon stay back with Alan so he could get to know the baby of the family more.

The only reason Gordon agreed to stay was that Scott was staying as well. Gordon hadn’t had that much time recently to hang out with his oldest bro, so he thought it was worth dealing with the little tyke in the room as well. Besides, mom was there too. She could watch him.

Gordon couldn’t for the life of him remember who was where when the literal tons of snow came to say hi. They all got knocked out relatively quick, but from Dad’s recollection of Scott’s eye-witness account, Scott and mom woke up at some point. Scott then went on to carry his youngest siblings out and away from the danger zone, only to re-pass out a good distance away from the buried cabin.

There were many details left out by Scott, and even more were left out by their father, who wanted to give his eldest some sense of security despite all the chaos. Gordon would only learn a little bit more (and by golly was it enough) when he was 16 and grounded by Scott himself. We know Dad is gone! Stop trying to replace him! Gordon shamefully admits that he was purposefully trying back then to be as difficult as possible. Sure, it was due to grief over losing their last living parent, but that didn’t mean he had to take out his rage like he was less than half his age.

People always credited Alan as being the angry baby, but Gordon could be a right bastard when he wanted.

Virgil shut up him right up with a tiny admission that Gordon would never let Scott know he knew. It was the least the swimmer could do after everything their oldest brother gave up.

“You know he promised her, right?”

Teenaged Gordon hissed as Virgil readjusted his piggyback, jostling Gordon’s broken leg in the process. Sneaking out didn’t really seem all that thrilling anymore. He still managed to squeak out through gritted teeth, “W-What?”

Virgil kept his face straight, a weird kind of stoic covering all of his emotions burning within, “Scott promised mom he would keep you two safe. It was the only thing he could do for her.”

That gut-punch didn’t help Gordon’s bruised ribs, and Virgil should have just broken his leg more next. Would have been a nicer follow up than the metaphorical groin kick Gordon received.

“Dad wondered if she was even aware-- or maybe even alive-- enough to hear him.”

Gordon had a lot of time in the hospital to think about those words, even more so when he watched his brunette brother sleep by his bedside. 22-year-old Scott should have been furious, should have ripped him a new one for being such a prick, but the only thing Gordon witnessed him do that night was run into the room as soon as he got the news that Gordon was okay and gently collapse onto his younger brother to collect the blonde into his arms while he tried desperately not to break down-- tried to be strong. Gordon was so caught off guard that he could only wrap his arms back around Scott in a weak attempt to reassure the new head of the Tracy Clan.

Later in the week when Gordon wasn’t so dead on his feet, Scott finally found the reprimand he wanted to give and tore into Gordon. Of course, Gordon snapped back too. They had the typical ‘What were you thinking?!’ ‘I wanted to have fun!’ kind of argument, but it was… softer, in a way, especially on Gordon’s part.

During that same night, after the argument, Gordon would hear 10-year-old Alan sneak into his room with a box full of familiar lights, abruptly reminding Gordon of a feeling he felt a long time ago, back during the ‘recovery’ part of the aftermath of the avalanche. One he couldn’t entirely explain until right then, thanks to Scott’s reactions throughout that entire week.

See, Scott’s plan of Gordon getting along with Alan backfired pretty horribly as Gordon, in all of his trauma and denial, managed to loop his tiny mind around into thinking Alan was at least partially responsible. If he wasn’t sick… if he wasn’t there… if he hadn’t been born--

Yeah, he was 8 at the time, but Gordon still feels sick for even coming up with that thought way back when.

Well, what’s done is done, and for the majority of the first two years, after their wonderful mom left the Earth, Gordon could only describe it like a daze of sorts. Dad was drowning himself in his work, Scott had seen horrors not even adults should’ve had to have seen, Gordon was stuck in the nice world of childhood depression, Virgil and John were caught in the middle like they always were and sometimes still are, and Alan? They really weren’t sure what he was going through due to one simple problem.

Because that was the joke of the day, the ironic twist so to speak. Believe it or not, Alan tended to be a quiet kid.

Many who knew their family would retort with yeah, anyone is quiet standing next to you, Gordon! or they would at least point out the constant babbling that tended to come from the youngest Tracy in the first place. First, Gordon would snort and admit, okay, that’s fair, and then explain how Alan was quiet when it really mattered.

And how it sucked.

The kid could go on and on about what video game he played recently or how stupid his homework was, but when you got down to it you couldn’t get Alan to talk enough.

Back when Alan still did school on the mainland, his older brothers didn’t even know he was being bullied until the bruises started showing up on parts that weren’t covered by clothes (the ones that were, though, damn). It didn’t even occur to the older brothers that Alan was getting more and more quiet each day. After getting the perpetrators expelled and rightfully ripped a new one, Scott and John asked Alan why on earth he didn’t tell them. He just shrugged his tiny kid shoulders and said, “It didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

Virgil’s 18th birthday was a night to remember, not just because it was a blast, but because they spent half the night in the waiting room at the hospital. They were hanging out in the cities, which was probably already a bad idea. In the first half of the day, the five of them had to cross a crosswalk. Simple enough, right? However, with the torrent of adults much larger than him, 12-year-old Alan lost his grip on John’s hand and toppled over with his arm out in front of him, leaving the limb out on a silver platter to be squashed by a rather large boot.

The man that did it felt really bad, actually, which was a breath of fresh air. He insisted that he would pay for any medical bills that came from the accident. The only reason they never went to any medical facility (immediately, at least) was that, after calming down, Alan insisted his arm felt fine. His reaction time in his fingers was still okay as well, so they left it alone. The four of them probably should have questioned why Alan was so quiet for the rest of the party, but they were too into the euphoria of Virgil’s big day to realize so. A little bit more into the celebration and Alan went missing. It was a miracle that they got Scott to not run off to the nearest police officer immediately. In hindsight, they probably should have, but panic makes the mind go woo woo.

After an hour of searching, they found Alan silently crying his eyes out in a corner. Gordon suspected Virgil never really got over the guilt. None of them have, probably. They really should have insisted they got it checked out right away. Sure, the reason they mainly assumed it was okay was that they’ve been hit with worse and only walked away with bruises-- John walked home from school one day with dirt and mud in his hair, scrapes littering his arms, and when asked what happened the ginger silently commented, “I got hit by a car,” as if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Not only did Jeff feel the number of years dwindle until his inevitable heart attack, but he also got to watch his eldest gain his first grey hairs with many more to come.

While getting a piggyback from yours truly, John calmly asked Alan why he didn’t say anything (again). The youngest just shrugged and buried his face into Gordon’s neck, “I didn’t want to be a problem. It’s Virge’s day…”

It would be a reoccurring problem for Alan to be hush-hush about physical and emotional strains put on him for years to come. It wasn’t a big problem out on the field (yet), but they were always extra sure to drill into the freckled boy if it seemed like he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. They were pretty sure it came from the fact that Alan was originally, well, not planned, as all those wonderful journalists pointed out.

They never actively kept it a secret. The age gaps, as well as the press, made it real hard to do so in the first place. Plus, keeping things like that a secret did more damage than not. But the idea was there, and the idea of being a ‘burden’ on anyone was a damaging thought that always seemed to ring in the back of Alan’s subconscious, so he made sure to only speak when he felt he absolutely could or if it wasn’t too much of a task he was asking of them (which they all hated, Scott especially).

The rest of them hoped to pick up what Lucy left behind, which was her efforts to make her newest son feel wanted and loved despite not being apart of the original quota. Gordon worried his older brothers felt a little too guilty about not being able to fully wash it away. It was part of the reason they let him act a little bit childishly on missions: if he feels comfortable enough to do so, then they can’t take it away from him out of fear that they’ll never get it back. It was also why he was just so excited to go on a mission: he could prove himself to be just as good as his older brothers.

Speaking of their mother (man, Gordon loved to ramble tonight, didn’t he), the whole reason any of this was a thing in the first place was Alan’s reaction to the avalanche. That’s when his whole ‘silent act’ issue became apparent. Because the kid became quiet. Period. He stopped talking for two years. Young Gordon wouldn’t even realize this until Virgil started to teach him ASL in their free time. Alan was still an energetic kid, he just… could not get his voice box to work.

The doctors insisted there was no physical damage, either, so they just had to wait and learn ways around it.

Gordon just could not wrap his young, tiny mind around why his loud and obnoxious and annoying younger bro just shut up. Intrigued at the idea of Alan actually being quiet, Gordon started to hang out with him more, especially since Gordon craved the general sense of peace during that time in his life. Yep, crazy, energy-lover Gordon needed the space to just sit and think, and where better than to rant about how crappy life was then at your great-listener-because-he-didn’t-want-to-talk brother.

As time went on in the second half of those two years, the youngest two grew close. Closer than any of the older brothers thought possible. Scott thinks they created their own hand language just for themselves during that time. Gordon was slowly becoming more and more himself, and Alan, well, still didn’t talk, but his energetic-ness was getting bigger and bigger each passing day. Unfortunately, so did their eagerness to be the biggest piece of shits in the world.

Baby Alan stumbled across a can of whip cream that the family forgot to put away. Toddling over to Gordon, the little one shook the can around as a way to say, ‘What could we do with this?’

Gordon’s first idea was to put a huge, glopping pile right on Scott’s pillow where his head directly laid. The sputtering and anger Scott responded with, as well as Virgil’s and John’s snickers at the whole thing, filled Gordon’s head with a million ways to continue his meticulous schemes. Alan got roped in the second the general idea of being able to make his family happy came to fruition.

April 16th was the day The Terrible Two officially started. Virgil was pretty sure he saw John’s calendar with this day marked specifically as a way to remind him not to come down. Virgil just wished he could ask his immediate older brother to let him up on ‘Five that day too.

Their pranks became more and more intense as they came up with each new one, and on the anniversary of their mother’s passing, they disappeared the entire morning. Due to grief, and the fact none of the remaining three sons wanted to deal with tar and feathers or their coffee mug shocking them again, they didn’t think too much of it. Honestly, after the last prank of filling their pillows with jello, they found the quietness to be a blessing. Then the sun started to set without the two of them home yet and they saw it as less of a blessing and more of a curse.

They couldn’t lose them, not on that day.

The house security cams showed the two of them heading into the woods behind their house with some kind of box, and that was all Scott, John, and Virgil needed to go sprinting out of the house. At this point, Dad was getting better about not drowning in work, but he still needed a little more counseling before he would be fully back. That left the three eldest brothers to go on a wild goose chase.

After searching for what Scott remembered feeling like a thousand years, they stumbled upon the two blondes giggling in an opening in the trees. Bursting through the bushes without a second thought, Scott and Virgil (with John behind them) not only saw their brothers unharmed and having a blast in the middle of the opening, all around them in the trees hung big and bright lights. It was as if they were standing in a pocket of stars. Stars they made from their own will and determination.

It was iridescent enough to make the three older brothers gasp just once before remembering why they were out in the dark and cold woods in the first place. Scott trudged over a little more forcefully than he probably realized. Right as he stood over his two youngest brothers, Alan’s tiny, freckled face looked up into his eyes obliviously and pointed at the set of lights.

“Look! Gordz made it pretty!”

Scott and Virgil wrapped their younger brother in the biggest bear hug ever, anger and fear forgotten. It was quiet, whispered and somewhat broken from two years of non-use, but damn, it was Alan. The light at the end of the tunnel seemed even closer. The two of them might have stained the back of Alan’s shirt with tears. Alan didn’t need to know.

Meanwhile, John, flabbergasted and slowly entering a state of shock due to his adrenaline drop followed by even more adrenaline after hearing Alan again, walked over to where Gordon was and simply asked, “How did you do… that?”

It was a question for more than one thing: how did you get Alan to start talking? How did you hang up the lights with no serious injury? How did the two of you grow up so quickly and closely without us even realizing?

All Gordon did was shrug, bring his hands behind his head with his elbows above it, and cheekily grinned, “There are just some secrets two brothers need to keep!”

When the two blondes shared a room that night, tangled with one another like the cords in the lights, Gordon felt something in his chest. It was something warm and fuzzy, and he would only feel it again for years to come when it was towards his only younger brother.

The 10-year-old didn’t know what it was, but he knew that when he figured it out, he would try to be better at it than Scott ever was. Heh, nowadays, he realized that probably wasn’t possible, but that was also okay.

Alan only needed one Scooter.

Right now, however, he needed his one and only Gordz.

---

Brains and other therapists suggested the reason Alan got quiet after going through a traumatic event was simply that it was easier to block things out if you were quiet.

All the brain energy that went to his mouth could be used to not think about the awful things he heard or witnessed. It was perfect. It left the rest of his brain to still be used for all of the other things he liked to do: he could hang out with his brothers and sister, play video games, and (unfortunately) work on homework without cause of concern.

Alan thought it was simple. His family thought it was torture. After all, he wouldn’t tell them what was wrong, and if he didn’t tell them they couldn’t fix it. It was everything their ‘am big person, protect the small’ inner programming hated and they felt like screaming. It was the avalanche again. It was Alan’s bullies again. It was the broken arm again. It was Dad’s disappearance again. Man, they never thought Alan would come back after that one.

But dammit, Gordon thought, their dad isn’t gone anymore, and it was because their stupid, selfless little brother was willing to go through hell and back to get him for them. The least Gordon could do was show Alan how much it was appreciated. How much he was appreciated.

But at this point, Gordon was on the verge of calling it a night.

It was a simple fucking question: do you remember where those stringed lights were?

Sure, it’s been God knows how many years since anyone has pulled them out, and Grandma did pack away a lot of stuff in rather secluded places that she deemed unimportant or, well, too traumatizing. But they could at least give him a general direction on where to go! Everyone knew the basic details of the layout of their storage compartments, come on!

Gordon was sitting in the kitchen, groaning into his hands when he heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Snapping his face away from his palms, he looked up into the eyes of none other than his father. The older man had eye bags for days, and his eyes were a little wearier than Gordon liked, but the small grin made Gordon feel like everything was alright.

Or maybe it was the box with the familiar lights in his arms. Mostly that.

Gordon stood up and blinked, “D-Dad--”

Jeff walked into the kitchen in a way that spoke, ‘let me say this first,’ “Scott mentioned you were driving your family crazy searching for this. I may not know how you boys set up the island after I left, but I do know your grandmother is stubborn as a bull. The only place she would have put this was in the decorations closet, where it wasn’t, which I’m sure you figured out, hence the constant nagging, so that means some kind of outside force moved it to a place least expected.”

Gordon was lost, “Where was it?”

Jeff let out a slight huff of air, “The back of Alan’s closet.”

Damn. Dammit dammit damn. Why wasn’t that obvious?

With a grip gentler than Gordon remembered he had, he took the box from Jeff. As he was examining the contents, he was able to smile at his father, “Thanks, Dad, this is exactly what I wanted.”

Jeff laid a hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing softly, “I’ve left this family to take care of itself twice in my lifetime, it was the least I could do. May I ask why you need them?”

The least I could do: goddamn was this family a hive mind sometimes. That didn’t stop Gordon from asking his burning question, “How quickly can we make these waterproof?”

It took all of half a second for Jeff to raise his eyebrows in confusion, followed by one of his trademark grins.

Oh yeah, the Tracy family was coming back

---

“Shhh Allie, keep it on.”

Alan rolled his eyes. Whenever Gordon blindfolded him it always ended poorly. Whether the ultimate bad ending would come to Alan or Gordon completely depended on how previously well-thought-out Gordon planned this to be. Regardless, Alan needed to do something other than chores and college applications since there was none of it left for today. He was getting so good it was kind of bad. In fact, one of the first things he did was drown himself in his work to the point that everything he missed in his captivity was done within the first three days of being back.

And here the public thought Alan and his father had nothing in common.

Alan felt Gordon’s hands on his shoulders the entire time they walked together. Eventually, they paused as Gordon needed to open the door to the outside, which was a great sign, by the way. Alan’s ears were picking up every little noise, including each of the thunks their feet made down the stairs, as well as the whistling of the wind blowing through their hair. Alan didn’t need to take off the blindfold to know it was night. The last thing Alan was looking at before Gordon scared the shit out of him with the blindfold from nowhere was the clock, 10:04 PM.

The thunks suddenly became less hollow, signaling they were on solid ground. It took Alan a couple of seconds longer than he would’ve liked to realize that Gordo was walking them straight towards the pool. Alan, remembering all the times he’d been shoved in it, started to fight back. Only minorly, though, like a baby wolf trying to overtake the Alpha of the pack. In the end, it didn’t matter, as Gordon stopped both of them with a slight push downward on Alan’s shoulders, signaling he didn’t need to walk anymore.

Gordon took his hands away and started speaking when he saw Alan wasn’t going anywhere. He walked around to the front of his brother, “So… this might be a long shot, but you remember those ‘starry lights’ we played with all the time?”

Alan blinked a few times behind the blindfold. Yeah, he did remember them. It was a huge staple between them. The days it got hard, or cold, or when it seemed like nothing would get better, they would pull those lights out and forget everything else. It felt like they were surrounded by a blanket of hope.

Gordon first wanted to do it in some random room at their old house two years after their mother passed, but quiet Alan suggested they go out to the woods. He flapped his tiny hands, and to paraphrase what he said, We’ll have more room! Plus, the real stars will make it even cooler!

From then on, it was just another thing between the two of them. They pulled the lights out when one of them was sad and the other wanted to cheer them up. After their mother’s death, after failing a test at school, after Dad’s disappearance, after Gordon’s hydrofoil crash…

Gordon will forever be grateful for Alan’s ability to be a little piece of shit. He’ll never know how the kid snuck the box into the hospital and he hoped he never found out. The hospital staff wasn’t as thrilled by the lights hung up around the room. Gordon was pretty sure he saw the pic up on ‘Five at one point, though, so at least someone appreciated their talents.

Right, the important matter at hand. Gordon needed to work on his rambling-when-stressed problem, “Well, Allie Allie Allie, guess what I found?”

Before Alan could tilt his head, the blindfold was untied from his head by Gordon. It fell off his face to reveal said older brother standing directly in front of him with a grin on his face that said, ‘you’re not going to believe this.’ Once Gordon saw Alan’s attention was completely on him, he stepped out of the way quickly so Alan’s line of focus could stay on what was in front of him and not just on his brother.

Alan’s breath caught in his throat.

Gordon smirked at his brother’s flabbergasted look, “You know how they say how the ocean isn’t that much different than deep space? Well, I think I found a way to make them even closer.”

Alan held his hand out in front of him only slightly. He was worried if he moved anything that the beautiful sight in front of him would go away. Those wonderful, amazing lights were all submerged in the pool in various spots near the bottom, the refractions making it look like there were twice as many. The pool looked like it had a weird, unique case of the chickenpox. It was breathtaking.

Little puffs of Alan’s breath were condensing into the familiar white clouds in front of his face due to the chill, but he didn’t care. The sight in front of him was much more important. Before he could sign a thank you, or maybe even just cry (which he would hate, thank God for interruptions), Gordon slung an arm around Alan’s shoulders, catching the freckled boy’s attention again.

Gordon waited for those wide, blue eyes to look at him directly before beginning, “I can’t even begin to imagine what happened up there. Part of me wants to be selfish and never come up with thoughts even close to that kind of shit, but… it’s not fair to you.”

Alan blinked and was suddenly turned 90 degrees to be standing front-to-front with Gordon. The older brother continued speaking when he put his hands on Alan’s shoulders, stretching his arms out to their full length, “You don’t… you don’t have to talk about everything, I know that first hand, but… don’t shut us out. You’re not a burden, you’re not a problem, I know that’s a thought of yours that’s been made worse by that bastard but the last thing I want is to--”

Gordon choked off his words due to a mixture of rage and pure sadness bubbling within. Suddenly, he couldn’t look Alan in the eyes anymore, “I just don’t want to fail you any more than I already have.”

Gordon looked down at their feet to watch some of his tears fall to the ground and splish-splash on the concrete. Dammit, he promised a lot of things (mainly himself) that he would be strong for this, but he supposes he was never the best at taking things seriously.

Gordon’s breath hitched at the feeling of two small hands on his cheeks. Those same hands brought his face back up to look at Alan sadly grinning, his own tears starting to form in his blue eyes. Before Gordon could curse himself out for failing this plan so spectacularly, his heart stopped in a good way at a tiny admission, a verbal one.

“Please… don’t make… me cry, too…”

Holy shit. Part of Gordon’s brain thought, ‘sweet, it only took a few weeks, a new record!’ but the other part, the big brother one day I’ll be better than Scott! part leaped a hundred feet in the air out of pure joy. With a laugh, Gordon yanked Alan into his arms and squeezed tight. Alan simply returned the gesture, albeit his arms were around Gordon’s waist, nor was his grip as strong. They did both have tear tracks on their cheeks, however.

Alan was still there. He was still their selfless, annoying, little bro, and he might not be fully back, but it was enough to know that not even the fucking Hood could take him away from them.

It would take a while to get back to normal. Scott would still pass out due to exhaustion from time to time until he fully realized it was all over, John, while not physically up on ‘Five, would take a while to fully come back down to Earth, Virgil was going to be found at that damn piano bench more than in his own room, and God only knew how Kayo or even Dad was going to react as the days went forward.

But they would get there. The Terrible Two were going to make sure of it, one prank at a time.

[katybeth23]

Part 2

Jack had been out of sorts for as long as they could remember and everyone at Heartland knew why. Even though he never spoke about his private life it was obvious that he missed Lisa, that her leaving was what had caused his constant state of melancholy.

Amy in particular worried about her grandpa.

She knew him better than most, and she knew that his heart was broken.

There wasn’t a single day that went buy that Jack didn’t think of Lisa.

But he was stubborn, and he was set in his ways, but more importantly he was willing to live the rest of his life with a broken heart if it meant Lisa was saved from a life of taking care of him.

The once warm water that ran over Lisa’s face has gone cold, she had been standing in the shower for almost half an hour. She was shell shocked.

Unable to comprehend the news she had just been given.

A routine yearly check up at her doctor had completely turned her life up side down.

Surely her doctor had been mistaken?

How on earth could what the doctor have told her be true?

A lifetime of wanting something, only to learn to live with it being an impossibility. Why now after all these years, after being told it was impossible...How did this happen?!

She had cried all the tears possible for one afternoon as she turned off the taps and stepped out on to the bath mat, not daring to take a glance in the large bathroom mirror.

Flicking back through her diary, tear stained checks, she stopped and took a deep breath. It was true { a smile came across Lisa’s face as she remembered }her doctor had been correct, almost to the exact day ~

As the memories of that mild autumn night came flooding back,Jacks rough hands on her soft skin ~

Lisa knew there was only one thing she needed to do. Only one place she needed to be ; no matter what the outcome. She had to go back to Hudson, back to Heartland and most importantly back to Jack.

The cold night air had set in as Jack rode ‘Paint’ across the field and Heartland came into sight. He had ridden out to check some young heifers earlier in the afternoon and to read and re read the letter that had arrived earlier in the week from Lisa.

The strain of the past months had taken its toll on Jack, he had tried to hide it the best he could, however at Heartland there was little privacy and he knew they all could see through him. He knew Lou had mentioned the letter that had arrived for him from France in the post, he could sense her hesitation when she had handed it over with the pile of other letters.

It was freezing and Jack was numb; had he perhaps made the biggest mistake of his life?

He was overwhelmed with feelings of guilt for not contacting Lisa sooner, he had tried to make himself believe that she would have moved on; so that he could move on ~ be content to live his life out at Heartland surrounded by this family.

Part of him had thought that perhaps Lisa would have found someone else...but deep down Jack knew he was only fooling one person ~Himself.

He loved Lisa ~ more than any other man could and deep down he knew she loved him!

The sadness in her eyes as she said good bye and the many times Lisa had been disappointed or hurt because of his stubbornness were too much for Jack to bare. As the wind howled, Jack grabbed at his chest, a shooting pain taking his breath away; his world going black as the vision of Lisa faded into the dark Alberta sky.

Lisa’s flight was booked, she had two clients to meet with before she flew out and one doctors appointment.

She had gone over the scenario in her mind a hundred times yet still she was apprehensive.

She knew that there was a side to Jack that only she saw; he was gentle, sensitive and kind ~ he had insecurities just as she did but he was old fashioned. He kept his feelings close to his chest and he rarely showed any public display of affection; however Jack Bartlett as old and as stubborn as he was had loved Lisa in a way that she couldn’t explain.

He had worn his heart on his sleeve, had endured more tragedies in his life ,yet in Lisa had found someone who had healed his wounds and had encouraged him to love again.

She sighed ~ so why were they apart? why couldn’t they have worked it out? and why did she always insist on pushing things on him like she had ?!

( 10 days later )

The week that followed Jacks heart attack had been rough.

The thought of the possibility of loosing Jack had been extremely difficult for everyone; Amy and Lou in particular. Tim had been a tower of strength, remaining as positive as he could keeping his own feelings private.

Tim had found Lisas letter tucked away inside Jacks winter coat after he was taken by ambulance.

Tim knew Jack had been suffering,

he himself was sad when they had broken up. Tim adored Lisa, she brought out a side a side of Jack he had never seen before. A side of Jack he had come to love and admire.

Lisa loved Jack in a way that many men only dreamed of.

Initially Tim had thrown Lisa’s letter into the glove box of his truck. It was Private. He had told himself it wouldn’t be right to read it.....

But it had got the better of Tim, he just had to know what was in that letter ; he hoped it could help him understand what Jack wouldn’t openly discuss , however ...

~ what if she had moved on and reading that letter was what broke Jacks heart for good?

‘Excuse me Mrs Stillman’

A bright eyed air hostess quietly woke Lisa upon their arrival into Calgary airport.

‘I’m sorry to wake you, but we have landed safely and it’s time to depart’ she smiled knowingly as her eyes glanced over Lisa’s slightly swollen abdomen.

Lisa knew what the young hostess was thinking but she dare not admit it, for it was still to new and to raw for Lisa.

She had made the decision from the moment she had received the news that she would tell no one, not until she had been able to speak with Jack.

She would go straight to Fairfield, meet briefly with Harry then head directly across to Heartland.

Lisa’s heat was pounding and she was a bundle of nerves. But she needed to do this, Jack had a right to know.

Tim sat quietly in the barn, as he read Lisa’s letter to Jack, he prayed that his ex father in law would see what Lisa was trying to say and would tell her exactly how he felt.

~ ‘I miss you, is there any way we can bridge this gap between us’ ~

As Lisa turned into the gates of Fairfield she saw Harry waiting for her as she pulled up out the front the homestead. Immediately she noticed his facial expression and her initial thought is ‘Cinders’.

What Lisa hears next leaves her speechless.

So many things are running through her mind, she cannot comprehend quite what Harry is telling her ; all she hears is Jack. Heart attack. Alive.

Harry could see how distressed she is, but he knows that he had to tell her, it’s not information he wanted Lisa to hear from anyone else.

‘He is alive Lisa’

Harry leads her across to the courtyard and gets her a glass of water.

‘Tim found him in the field with Paint standing by his side ‘ she smiles to herself at the comradeship Jack shared with his old faithful friend.

‘He is home now, spent 3 weeks in hospital, but he is home’ Harry’s Hand rests gently on Lisa’s shoulder.

A man in his late 60s , Harry O’Connor had worked for Lisa and her family for almost 42 years...and although a man of very few words Harry knew how much Jack meant to Lisa, how much she still loved him.

He was glad she had come home, and he hoped that this would be the way in which Jack Bartlett and Lisa Stillman would find their way back to one another; where they belonged.

Lisa { being Lisa } threw herself into “care mode” thinking of all the things Jack might need for his recovery at home, even going as far as to organise a new bed for him.

Harry informed Lisa that he had taken it upon himself to organise Amy to work with Cinders, this was something Lisa was glad of ; she herself didn’t want to see either of the girls { or anyone for that matter } until she had seen Jack.

She knew Harry had taken notice of her appearance the moment she stepped out her SUV, she hoped he put it down to “jet lag “ and her love of French food;

either way she knew she had to go and see Jack ; and sooner rather than later.

‘ I don’t need you to be my nurse ‘

Jack looked so tired as he glared at her across the room.

{ Lisa knew that instant the bed was a really bad idea }

‘Take it back’

His tone was harsh...

‘ I just want to help you Jack’ it was almost a whisper

Inside Lisa desperately wanted to tell him but she couldn’t possibly do it now, not when he was making it perfectly clear he didn’t want her in his life.

‘ okay, then I’ll just go’ she looked at him with pleading eyes, she knew he was afraid, but why couldn’t he see it was her;

The woman who truely loved him.

~ Lisa had deliberately worn her work coat into Heartland so Jack wouldn’t notice her more fuller figure ~

As the tears began to well in her eyes, she felt their unborn child move. She had felt this many times in the past weeks, but today was different ~ Desperately she wanted to scream ‘ Jack! We’re going to have a baby!!!!’

but the words just wouldn’t come.

Before Lisa could do anything else Jack had turned his back and closed his bedroom door behind him.

As Lisa went to leave she heard something break ; she knew this wasn’t what Jack really wanted. He was angry. But once again he had allowed his pride to break her heart.

( 2 weeks later )

Lisa would not mention anything about her visit to Heartland no matter how much it ate her up inside.

She instructed Harry to take Cinders across to Heartland where he was to remain whilst Amy worked with him, nothing was to be done at Fairfield.

Lisa wanted to see no one whilst she was here.

On three occasions Amy spoke with Lisa via phone , but those conversations were kept short and work related no matter how hard Amy tried otherwise.

Amy knew Lisa had been to Heartland to see Jack, she had seen her drive in and sadly watched her breakdown in tears as she drove out soon after.

Jack had been at times impossible to live with after he and Lisa broke up ~ and now after everything she had come home to see him, to offer help care for him and he...he had obviously been his pig headed stubborn old self.

‘Grandpa’ Amy spoke softly as she found Jack resting on the old leather sofa

‘Mmmm’ was his reply

Amy knew she had to tread carefully, she also knew she couldn’t stand to see him this miserable any longer!

‘Grandpa, You don’t have to say anything, I just ask you to listen’ ~

she came and stood by the fire place, Jack lifting his head, looking up at her with his dark, tired eyes.

~

‘I know you love Lisa’ his eyes widened at the mention of Lisa’s name

Amy put her hand up

‘Just hear me out’ she continued

‘I know you love Lisa, we all know you do. But I also know why your pushing her away...

She continued before Jack could get a word in

‘It’s ok to be afraid Grandpa : I’ve watched you let one thing concern you, almost since the day you met Lisa and I just don’t know why it worries you so much, especially when it’s never worried her!’

Amy’s tone had changed from soft to slightly more stern

‘We all know how old you are grandpa, we know you have grandkids and great grandkids ; but what we also know is that age is a number and your age is not what defines you, it’s not something that Lisa even cares about....your the only one she loves !!!!

Amy bent down in front of her grandpa and held his big old hardworking hands in her own.

‘Please don’t let her go again grandpa. Lisa loves you. And you love her too ; and that’s all that matters’ ~

and with that Amy kissed Jack gently on the cheek and headed out the door.

As the weeks went by there wasn’t a moment of the day that Jack didn’t think of Lisa.

He had worked hard with his rehabilitation program , impressing Dr Verani with his ongoing recovery.

She herself was suprised at just how quickly Jack had bounced back from such a major episode.

Lou had been to see Dr. Verani, concerned that her grandpa was pushing himself and taking things too fast. She to also knew that there was something a miss with him; the difference was Lou was to caught up in her own life to actually see what it was that was causing Jacks heartache.

Dr Tricia Verani assured Lou and them all that although ‘old in numbers’ Jack Bartlett was very much a fit, virile man.

The words ‘I don’t need you to be my nurse’ kept racing through Lisa’s mind ~

...she didn’t want to be Jacks nurse! She just wanted to be with him!!

Harry had been keeping a close eye on Lisa since she had been to see Jack at Heartland.

She hadn’t mentioned it and he dare not bring it up ~ all the same Harry O’Connor knew that something wasn’t right and he had taken it upon himself to keep close watch on his { as it seemed } rather fragile Boss.

Her obstetrician in Calgary had advised Lisa soon after her visit to Heartland that her blood pressure was elevated and it would be wise not to travel given her condition and her age for the time being.

Lisa was at a loss. Regardless of her relationship with Jack he had the right to know what was going on , she so desperately wanted to tell him, she desperately wanted him to hold her in his arms and tell her that every would be just fine ~ she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

‘Jack!’ Tim popped his head through the front door

‘Jack! Are you in here?! ‘ he bellowed once again

As he took off his boots, hung his jacket on the hook and headed in to pour himself a cup of coffee Tim noticed out of the corner of his eye a notepad and pen at Jacks open desk.

As always curiosity got then better of Tim and just before Jack could catch him he caught a glimpse of what he had so desperately hoped for ~

Dear Lise,

I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry I was such an old fool. I miss you too....

Tim hid his grin as he took a gulp of coffee. Jack missed Lisa. He knew it!

The old boy could fool no one he thought to himself.

‘I’m off to Calgary this morning’ Tim put his cup into the kitchen sink as he headed out the door.

‘I’m grabbing some supplies for Casey, call if you need anything’ and he was out the door and gone.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, as much as he was great full to Tim for indeed saving his life, since his heart attack Jack had found Tim to be a little ‘over protective’ ~ often calling him multiple times a day and popping in to just to have a cup of coffee with him at least twice daily.

Jack heaved himself up from the kitchen table, he had important business to attend to as he headed back over to his Open desk.

Lisa had a 9am appointment with her Obstetrician in Calgary. She had left Fairfield early so she missed the morning traffic. As she made her way up to the administration desk she hoped todays results would at least give her the option to travel. She really didn’t particularly want to go back to France but given her circumstances she at least wanted the option.

Dr. Lucy. Hammond had been a wonderful support to Lisa since she had returned to Hudson. She was kind and compassionate and had encouraged Lisa to express how she felt and never judged or offered hasty advice.

Dr. Hammond was young, she was newly married and Lisa was taken a back at the genuine excitement she showed Lisa at this exciting time in her life.

Once Dr. Hammond had thoroughly checked Lisa she came and sat beside her.

‘Well Lisa I’m happy to say that your blood pressure has come back to normal and all of your regular tests are looking great she smiled broadly

‘I will add though that you are getting closer to the time when you need to stay put ~ where travel will be completely out of the question’ she turned to face Lisa front on

‘I know this is really difficult for you Lisa, but the time has come where you need to make your decision...do you stay or do you return to France for delivery’ ~ her voice was gentle and full of concern

‘I cannot tell you what to do Lisa, but I know how you feel about your situation and I know how important speaking to Jack is, so my only advice would be...go and see him, then you can make your final decision’ ~ Lisa was in a day dream as she felt Dr. Hammonds hand leave hers.

As he pulled out from Lammle’s Tim thought he was seeing things.

He slowly pulled up just past Calgary private woman’s hospital and watched in his rear view mirror.

Lisa stepped out on the street and decided to take a walk to the park. She couldn’t face the drive back to Fairfield or Harry’s well meaning ‘fussing’.

Tim had been watching and was lost for words.

Lisa was pregnant!!!

Jack was going to be a father...again ~ tim smiled broadly to himself at the thought.

He jumped out of his truck and followed Lisa to the park.

He found her sitting alone, on a park bench staring up into the trees.

‘Hey Lisa’

Tim sat down next to her before she had time to register or cover her bump.

As they sat together in silence the tears that had been burning at the back of Lisas eyes suddenly broke through.

‘I’m so happy for you’ Tim Hugged Lisa gently as he walked her back to car.

She laughed at him as he opened the door and helped her in.

‘I’m not an invalid tim’ she smiled as she watched him fuss.

‘I know , I know...but Jack would kill me if I let anything happen to you’ he winked as he closed the door gently.

Lisa wound the window down, her brow crinkled with concern.

‘Everything will be ok Lisa’ Tim’s tone was sincere and sure.

‘I’ll follow you back to Heartland okay?

Lisa nodded as she drove away.

It was quite possibly the longest trip back to Hudson Lisa had ever driven.

She was now 32 weeks so there was no hiding her condition.

A part of her was nervous and frightened. What if Jack was angry she hadn’t told him. She had wanted to, desperately she had; but his harsh words had kept her silent.

As Lisa drove into Heartland she felt a sense of relief. She knew Tim wouldn’t be far away, he had been so kind and understanding when she told him her news. The excitement she saw in his eyes when she told him about the baby made her feel calm, he too had also opened up, his concerns for Jack, his health scare & his impossible moods.

Tim explained to Lisa how everyone knew what was the wrong with him, he just wouldn’t admit it.

‘He loves you Lise, more than you’ll ever know’ Tim stated matter afactly.

‘He’s just so damn pig headed and so hell bent on worrying about your age difference it’s marred how he actually feels’ ....

‘But he loves ya, no doubt about it. I don’t think he’s ever really stopped ~

To hear that meant the world to Lisa,

These past months holding onto this precious secret had been the hardest thing she had ever had to do, she hated the thought of keeping something like this from Jack ; but as Tim had stated

‘The timing doesn’t matter Lise, your here now and that’s what matters most’.

Jack came out on to the porch as he heard a vehicle coming.

He had never expected to see Lisa’s car, his heart skipped a beat as he saw her pull up.

But nothing in his life could have filled Jacks heart with more love than what he saw as Lisa closed her car door and came around towards the path.

She was glowing, and it was obvious as to why.

Lisa didn’t have to say a word, Jack knew instantly.

As she met him half way his large calloused hands reached out and held her face gently.

‘I’m so sorry Lise, so so sorry’ his deep voice barely audible

‘It’s okay Jack’ Lisa sobbed

‘I’m sorry too, sorry I kept this from you for so long’ she looked down at her perfectly rounded stomach.

There were no more words spoken in that moment.

Lisa took Jacks hands and placed them over her abdomen. She had never imagined in her life that she would experience such a moment, let alone with the love she had for such a man.

Jacks tear stained face leant down and he kissed Lisa soundly.

Both of them knew they had so much to discuss, so much to catch up on and only weeks before they welcomed a new life to Heartland.

Jack looked across as he saw Tim tip his hat and head down the drive and out of Heartland.

But all of that could wait, tomorrow would be here soon enough.

All Jack wanted right now was to hold Lisa in his arms.

He missed many things in the time he and Lisa were apart, he smile, her laughter and those piercing blue eyes...but most of all, above anything else Jack missed holding Lisa in his arms.

‘Is it ok if I stay with you tonight ?’ Lisa’s voice was nothing more than a whisper

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way’ Jacks words muffled as he kissed Lisa softly.

~

As Jack padded through the house turning down the lights as he went, he never let go of Lisa’s hand.

They reached the door of Jacks room and Lisa stopped, she turned and smiled softly .

His scent filled her lungs as she walked through the door.

A feeling of euphoria came over Lisa as she glanced around the large room familiarising herself once again .

There was so much each other needed to say; explanations, apologies and talk of their future.

They both knew it was a long road ahead and that their lives would never be the same again, but right at that very moment neither minded.

Jack had never imagined this for his life; that he and Lisa would find a way back together and most importantly that Lisa would give him one of life’s greatest gifts...their child.

Their love that both of them had questioned on so many occasions had bore this child.

Neither had ever stopped loving the other. And it was because of this Love , that no matter what life threw at them they would always be together .

#heartlandfanfiction #jisafanfiction #heartland #jackbartlett #lisastillman

[sio-th3-r4nd0]

Krii7y,

Prompt: They both have musical talents, only they suck at the other talent. Ex. Person A sings but can’t play an instrument and Person B can play an instrument but can’t sing.

Includes Wholesomeness

Jaren sighed, shaking his head at his friend. John was acting a fool again, messing with the younger kids as they passed by.

“Hey John, you know I have to go in five. I have to check the lights for the stage before Cameron checks the mic.” Jaren said as his friend continues to swim through the swarm of little tykes.

“Yeah yeah don’t remind me.” John pulled away from a kid with a teddy bear (that he was petting). “I have to be sure that their costumes are good to go because of the fashion diva I am.” John says flamboyantly, striking a pose in the middle of the hallway.

“You are not a fashion diva with that hair,” Jaren says with a smile, caressing John’s platinum dyed hair. “You definitely need to re-dye this though. You’re roots are showing.”

“I know, but it adds charm.” John says as he brushes off Jaren’s hand gently and smiles, walking towards the auditorium. “I’m going to re-dye it tonight, since my mom will be away. Do you wanna come help?”

“Sure, as long as you wash it properly.” Jaren blushes faintly as the pair walks in sync to the door. “No one wants to touch a greasy mess.”

They reach the door and John went in, Jaren doing the same. John went backstage with the rest of the cast and Jaren went up some stairs and into a little balcony set with stage equipment. Behind the glass, nobody can hear the click and murmurs when there’s an issue. Right now, Jaren is the only one running the show with his supervisor Fitz. However, Fitz is normally away from his post and instead chatting up the drama director. Jaren starts up the lighting and checks if all lights and effects are working, (which they all are,) and Jaren just sat back and relaxed himself. Normally, his days can be seen spent doing homework, hanging out with John and the others, and sleeping at home after a successful game or two, while music is playing. Right now he’s been listening to Dilemma. How’s it go again?

Jaren started to sing. Like a nightingale, a beautiful melody filled the empty room. “I love you and all I need is you, no matter what I do, All I think about is you…” Using his fingers to snap, Jaren kept rhythm and continued to sing. Whenever he sings, Jaren makes sure that it’s always in a secluded place. Jaren never lets anyone hear him sing. Nobody wants to anyway.

Compared to the professionals, Jaren thinks he’s merely a novice; not worth participating in choir.

Ladies and gentlemen, we all know this is a lie. This man can sing Ave Maria and earn tears (regardless if it has ever happened). The only reason why he hasn’t is stupid. Not worth mentioning.

At least at this point of the story.

Jaren started to put his own spin on the song as the walkie-talkie on the table next to him turned on. It was the director, signaling they were about to start the Act 1 rehearsal.

“Tech, we are about to start. Dim the stage.”

Jaren immediately snapped out of his singing and dimmed the lights. He took the walkie and told the director “We’re ready here.”

The music cue from the pianist begun and Jaren cued the light sequence to show the characters one by one. The musical was made recently, about a girl going through a great tragedy and entering a toxic relationship before getting out.

The musical itself is pretty good, but the moment the character Jane stepped out everyone could tell John had done a fantastic job with the outfit. Jane was suppose to look as a plain Jane in the first act of the musical, so John sported “Jane” with a simple blue shirt and nothing else to give a special characteristic to her. Which is pretty hard to do, since the prettiest girl in school was casted as Jane. Popular favorite, popular vote.

…

The rehearsal went as planned with no trouble. Fitz eventually returned towards the beginning so Jaren was not alone, but still relatively lonely. There wasn’t much for him in life, but playing games is about the only thing he’s ever good at. Oh well, Jaren thought, shrugging.

Fitz walked out of the room when Act 1 was done, all that they were doing today. When he left, Jaren stayed put, trying to give himself comfort by leaning back in his chair until Jaren was balanced enough to not fall, and started to sing again.

Only this time, his very own song.

This song was from his deepest desires, something so obvious that everyone should know it. Every time he looks at John, this spark goes off and Jaren gets this look in his eyes. Sadly, that’s only apparent when he’s not wearing his customized glasses, whiiiiiiich Jaren just so happened to not be wearing today.

“Fuck me, love my idiot brain, my stupid ass, my connecting chain,” Jaren sings, keeping tempo with a simple snap. “I’m dying with loooove, with hope and a flying fuck, hopefully I can get that suck… but not likely with my luck.” Some A cappella scat improvised its way in there as Jaren closed his eyes and lived in the moment. Not paying attention to a thing.

Unafraid.

Fearless.

Calm.

Suddenly, a door rattled behind him and out appeared John, just the same as ever. Jaren stumbled and fell backwards, his back hitting the chair.

“Woah shit dude.” John said, rushing to aide the fallen comrade. “Are you okay? Can you see clearly?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.” Jaren said, using John as support to get out of the chair.

“That was a pretty hard fall though. Are you sure you’re okay?” John pesters Jaren one more time, clearly worried.

”Yeah. Are we headed to your house now?” Jaren said, shaking off the shock.

”Sure. I have nothing else planned.” John started to walk out of the room. “Do you have everything?”

“Lemme get my backpack and we can go.” Jaren said, pushing past John in a friendly, playful way. Totally not brushing off what just happened.

Jaren gets to his locker, which isn’t too far off, and quickly gets his backpack. He meets John near his car (a Volkswagen) and gets in the all too familiar vehicle.

The drive to John’s house was tame, with the silence in the air filled by music. Once John pulled up to his driveway, Jaren immediately took the spare key hidden somewhere and opened the door with ease. Jaren felt as ease here, even though he was still sweating and anxious about almost getting found out earlier. John follows suit as Jaren crashes onto the couch, flopping in all his glory.

“You want anything bro?” John asks as he sets his bag down and pats Jaren’s head.

”Yeah, can you get me some of your Peace Tea’s before I pass out? I’m tired.” Jaren sighed, looking up at John.

”Sure. I’ll leave it on the coffee table. You want your coaster?”

”Yassss bitch.”

Jaren hears John shuffling around and going into the kitchen, signaled by the clickity-clack of his boots hitting the tile. John quickly comes back with his Peace Tea, setting it on the coaster he moved to the corner closest to Jaren.

Jaren realizes how lucky and happy that John puts up with his bullshit, just before passing out.

Jaren passed out for a few hours. Well deserved sleep, for several nights Jaren has been running on energy boosters to make up for the fact that he’s been playing video games with his friends. Sometimes John, sometimes others. When Jaren finally awoke, a bit slow at realizing his surroundings, he grabbed the Peace Tea that still sat at the edge  of the table. Jaren cracked opened the can with a pop and sat up, sipping the sweet drink slowly.

As his mind traveled and wandered away, Jaren continued to sip his drink. When minutes have passed and not a living creature has stirred, you tend to stop and wonder “where is John?” Jaren thought this and finished the last of his drink, preparing to venture on the abyss to find John. Or, at least, search John’s house. Jaren placed the Peace Tea down and stood up. He then started his search for John in the kitchen, going from the kitchen and then down to the end of the hallway. Jaren finally got to John’s room and opened it.

Only John wasn’t there.

Where the fuck is John?!

As if on cue, all the way across the house, a song from a piano filled the air. Jaren followed the sound into John’s garage (a place where Jaren has never been before), where John sat on a piano bench, playing the piano.

John hasn’t noticed Jaren yet, so Jaren quietly closed the garage door and listened in to the song. It was a familiar tune, the song John played. Jaren recognised it as Angel in the Morning, a song he was a huge fan of when he was younger. As the chorus came up, Jaren got ready to sing.

~”Just call me Angel of the Morning, angel; Just touch my cheek before you leave me—“~

John smashed his keys and stopped everything as an off-tune and yelped “baby” came from Jaren. John turned around and met eyes with Jaren, wide eyed and mouth agape. Jaren was flushed from head to toe, being caught singing in front of someone, John no less. But something, something inside of Jaren felt that John didn’t care about his singing ability. Jaren trusted John enough to show him his flaws.

Jaren hoped John would do the same.

John didn’t move and Jaren didn’t dare break the silence. After a few more seconds like this, John spoke:

”How long?”

Jaren didn’t know what he meant by “how long” and only gave out a small “what” in reply before John asked again.

”How long were you there for?”

Jaren avoided eye contact. "Just for a little bit."

Jaren feels the intense stare John gives him as he contemplates this predicament, unsure what to do next.

John begins to shake his head, slowly at first, but the he starts to shake his head even more.

"Nope nope nope not doing this." John says, standing up with his face flushed. Jaren got even more confused. John wasn't saying a thing about his singing (which Jaren truly hoped John didn't see) or a thing about what's going on. Did he always have this talent?

"Wait... what's going on?" Jaren asked as he took a little step forward.

"None of this happened." John said, putting his hands on Jaren's shoulders and pushing him away. Jaren didn't budge an inch. Even though John may look strong, there isn't much strength in his arms.

"John what do you mean?" Jaren said against John's might. Jaren started to push towards John, but not enough to knock him over.

“Just get out,” John started to raise his voice. “Go! Please, just go!”

Jaren couldn’t see John’s face, a face that was covered in his hair. All Jaren could tell was John was yelling at him for some reason. But why?

”I’m not going anywhere John,” Jaren said, determined. “Just look at me.”

John’s arms gave up in defeat and he sank back into the piano bench, covering his face. John’s ears were now visible, showing the amount of blushing John did. All this time, John was muttering a string of “no’s”.

Jaren steadily approached John, being careful. The tension rose in Jaren, afraid John might hate him. Scared for the future of their friendship. Nervous for John’s reaction, but hopeful for a new understanding.

Jaren placed his hand on John’s shoulder. This caught John’s attention and he finally turned his ace to Jaren. Jaren saw how much John was blushing, including his ears.

”It’s okay,” Jaren said, using his other hand to hold onto John’s hands. Jaren was feeling a bit flustered himself. “Please just tell me.”

John looked reluctant at first, but then sighed as he looked down to the floor. “I-uh, I kinda have this talent.”

“Playing the piano?”

“No, not just that…” John said, snatching glances at Jaren. “It’s… it’s kinda with every instrument I play...”

“Like… a trumpet?” Jaren asked.

”Kinda… it’s hard to explain. It runs in the family, to be normally gifted…but…” John trails off. “Is there a reason why you never told me?” Jaren asked.

“I kept feeling stupid about this whole thing. I knew you’d never believe me, so I didn’t bother.” John said, being more vocal than before. “I mean, who’d believe that your best friend for forever had this insane talent and never brought it up? No one, and especially not you. If I ever did, I always thought you’d just laugh it off and continue on with your life.”

“Well, it’s happening now.” Jaren said. “And you never know for sure. Obviously I have to believe you know. I’ve never heard of you taking piano lessons or having any interest in music, but I just saw you play beautifully. That’s more than enough proof for me.” Jaren had both of his hands grasping John’s, gripping tighter.

”You’re not exactly off the hook either you know.” John says, making Jaren a bit too overwhelmed. “I’m sure you know it…”

…that motherfucker heard me sing, Jaren thought.

“You did hear me, didn’t you.”

”I did…” John says, even more flustered. “And just now too. You are the embodiment of a nightingale.”

“Am not asshole.” Jaren snaps quickly, already blushing a lot.

“Are too~” John cooed. “And I even heard that song of yours… I never knew you felt about me like that. To just, ‘Fuck your stupid ass’, was it?”

Jaren laughed. “No, dumbass. It was ‘Fuck me; love my idiot brain; my stupid ass; my connecting chain’.”

“That works too.” John said.

Jaren became a tomato, heat radiating off of his face. John chuckles even more and stokes Jaren’s hair.

“This means we’re official, aren’t we?”

Jaren looks up at John and sees his smile, melting his heart.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The moment Jaren finishes that statement, John pulls Jaren into a invigorating kiss. Jaren, whose mouth was open and caught off guard, was met with John’s soft lips and his tongue swirling with Jaren’s. John’s tongue was trying to explore every crevice, every spot of Jaren’s mouth. By the time they stopped, Jaren was a mess of mixed emotions, all good, and John only said one thing.

”Wow, that was hot.”

[gwenbrightly]

(When You Weren't There)

Cross-posted from ffnet. Just a quick oneshot featuring the Smith siblings following some of the events of season 11 (because someone's gotta smack some sense into Kai for being an idiot).

Footsteps echoed softly.

First to the left, then the right. Repeat.

Nya watched her brother quietly wander the halls of the monastery. It had been several hours since… Since Zane had been hit by Ashpeera’s spell and… ceased to exist…

The aftermath had been devastating. No one felt like talking, felt like doing anything, too caught up in shocked grief. It was too reminiscent of Cole’s fall, and far, far too soon. Why did tragedy always strike at the worst possible moment? She’d never get used to this feeling. No matter how many times they lost someone.

The master of water glanced at the clock on a nearby wall. It was late. The others were probably already in bed (Pixal had retired to her room hours ago), and she really ought to consider joining them soon, but there was something she needed to do first.

“Kai?” She called. He stopped, glancing over at her.

“Y-yeah?”

“We need to talk.” Nya stated firmly, grabbing Kai’s arm and leading him toward her room.

“We just lost Zane, sis. This had better be important.” He replied, eyes red and puffy. It was obvious that the day’s events had hit him hard, but Nya was dead set on having this conversation now. Someone had to do damage control before things got even worse.

“Oh, it is..” She dragged him inside. Seating herself on the bed, she eyed him expectantly. He couldn’t ignore the look on her face.

“What’s eating you?” The master of fire asked quietly, not sure he wanted to know what else might be bothering her. He sat next to her, waiting for a response. Nya glanced away, picking at her bedspread as she chose her words.

“I think…” She took a breath, “I think you need to apologize to Lloyd. For what happened earlier.”

“Apologize?” He repeated. The former samurai nodded.

“Yes. Apologize. Maybe you think that coming back at the last possible moment counts, but it doesn’t. The way you acted? The things you said? They hurt Lloyd. A lot more than you realize. And while he’s too nice to say it to your face, I’m not.”

“I… I was being a little insensitive…” Admitted Kai, sheepishly. His behavior definitely wasn’t something to be proud of.

“A little?!” Nya hissed, a bit louder than intended, “What the heck, Kai?! Have you already forgotten that Lloyd lost his own elemental powers not that long ago? That he had to deal with his maniac of a father trying to take over the city while grieving the loss of his family all at the same time?!”

“I-”

“Do you have any idea how horrible that was for him? And then you, his brother, come along and basically tell him his struggles weren’t justified!” He shrank back as she continued, realizing just how badly he’d messed up.

“Oh gosh… I feel like such a jerk now… I didn’t mean for it to come out like that…” Kai said, feeling even worse than before, “I just… I felt so useless and frustrated and I guess I didn’t…” She sighed.

“That’s just it. You don’t get it… none of you do!”

“I… what?” He questioned, a bit surprised by the outburst.

“It’s so easy for you to forget that Lloyd went through living hell while you were off gallivanting about with dragons, for you to say or do something stupid and ignorant, and you wanna know why? You. Weren’t. There.” Her words felt like a physical punch. Kai reeled backwards, nearly falling off of his sister’s bed. She turned away, bitterly.

“You weren’t there when Lloyd woke up without powers, or when he refused to eat for days on end… or when he cried himself to sleep every night blaming himself for getting you killed, or when… When everyone else got captured?” He could hear her voice beginning to break.

“You weren’t there, and I was so, so scared a-and everything was so bro-oken - I didn’t know what to do…. we needed you, and you w-were gone and… And then we almost lost you again, and…” Nya’s voice grew quieter, resigned. This wasn’t just about Lloyd anymore. And the master of fire was beginning to wonder if it ever had been. She chocked out a sob.

“And I-I know it’s not fair to blame you for that b-because it wasn’t your fault you were stuck i-in another realm, but I still…. It hurts and I can’t….”

“Oh, Nya… I’m so sorry… why didn’t you tell me….” He whispered, edging over to her. The girl’s crying turned to hiccups as she allowed Kai to scoop her up into a tight hug. He rubbed comforting circles on her back, attempting to calm her down enough to get a coherent response out of her.

“I was so relieved to h-have you back again, you know?” She whispered, beginning to feel better now that she’d gotten all the negative feelings that had been plaguing her for the past 6 months off her chest, “I-I couldn’t lay that on you, not when…”

“Nya… Nya, look at me…” Kai begged. Nya shifted towards him, face streaked with tears. He grabbed the box of tissues she kept on her bedside table and handed them to her. She gratefully accepted them.

“I don’t care how idiotic I’m acting. You can always come to me when something’s bothering you. You know that…”

“I do.” The master of water agreed with a watery smile.

“Good. Because you shouldn’t have to feel like you’re going through this stuff alone – you aren’t, and you never will be. I promise.” He replied, giving her nose a tweak. She leaned against him, comforted by his words.

“Thanks. I really needed that right now.”

“No problem, sis. I’m your brother. It’s what I’m here for. And you’re right... Lloyd deserves an apology. I’ll make sure I talk to him as soon as I can.” Kai determined.

“Yeah, I… I think that’s a good idea… maybe it’ll help soften the blow to know that you understand… after what happened today? He’s gonna need some encouragement…” His sister stated, knowingly.

“Things are definitely gonna be rough around here for awhile…” He said, nodding in agreement. Suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of someone screaming down the hall. Pixal.

“We’d better go check on her.” Nya commented as she pushed herself up from the mattress. Kai followed her to the door, steeling himself for yet another difficult conversation. They were a family… They’d get through this…. Right?

[dead-inside-mcgee]

Controlling a marionette Part 1

Co-written/edited by @blog-griffin-me

Summary: Just a normal day at Septic Inc.

All Chase could see was the faint outline of the walls and the area of floor before him; illuminated by a light coming from seemingly nowhere. It was right to call this place the void. The only thing that could be heard was the erie ticking of a clock on the wall; other than that even his own heartbeat was silenced.

 Is this what it was like for Henrik all that time? Deafening silence, except the clock reminding him of the passing time. Even after only being here a few hours Chase understood why the doctor hadn’t wanted a say a word about this place, and he wasn’t in even the worst of it yet.

 There was a figure in front of him, standing in the shadows past the light. He wasn’t sure if they’d just shown up or it they’d been here the whole time.

 “Who are you? Speak!” Chase cried.

 There was more silence until a voice cut through the darkness. It didn’t sound human, more like a cheap text-to-speech robot. It only added to the creepiness.

 “Chase Brody,” they, no it said. “It’s so good to see you.”

 “What the fuck?”

 “Language.” No emotion or anything in it’s voice.

 “What are you? Do you work for Anti?”

 “Ha ha ha,” it laughed, sounding even more robotic. “Guess I played the character too well.”

 It threw something into the light. A detailed puppet, strings and all. Even though Chase had never seen the demon the others called Anti, he recognized the puppet.

 “Wh-a what?” Chase was dumbfounded.

 “I was hoping to make the doctor part of my collection, sense he needed a friend,” Another dry laugh, “but I got too wrapped up in toying with him that I didn’t notice the days passing by.”

 “You sick fuck!” He screamed loud enough that it hurt his throat.

 “Didn’t I say something about language? We ought to shut that mouth of yours.”

 For a split second he could see the light reflect off of something. A sewing needle.

 A spool of thread landed on the floor in the light and he could hear the snip of scissors.

The ticking of the clock got noticeably louder then it stopped. The sound of static filled the void and there was a loud sound similar to a whip being cracked.

 The clock bagan ticking backwards at an increased speed.

 Negative three hours, eight, ten. Days went by backards.

   T̨h̶͡ r̶ ̡͝ ̡͜ ̀ e̸̢͠e̕ ̢ ̴̡ ̨͝͝ ́ ̴҉̕d͠͏a ́͜ ̡͢ ̨ ̨̨́ y̧͞͠ş̀͢ ͢͠ear ̢̧l̀ ͠ ҉ ̕͘ie̛r ̴͜

There is an old saying, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Well it’s bullshit. Well only half-bullshit.

 Chase has been in many a long distance relationship, and he can tell you “Out of slight, out of mind,” is more fitting. That is until someone you’ve relied on for so long suddenly goes missing. Then it’s more like “I haven’t seen you in nine months and if I saw you now I’d hug you and never let go.”

 The the moment Chase was stapling missing posters to every phone pole, tree, wall, bench, and anything else he could. Three months ago the police told him it was a loss cause. Two months ago Marvin took the sign off of Henrik’s door marking it was his. Even after that Chase refused to let him move anything inside the room.

 It seems silly to have gone to the police. Everyone knew who took Henrik and the police would be no help getting him back. It was most likely a spur of the moment thing, maybe to give everyone a slight bit of hope before it came crashing down.

 The only other person who hasn’t given up hope yet was Jackie, or Greyson, his actual name. He would swoop around the city everyday searching for any sign of him. He still somehow kept a smile even when it came to delivering the news that there was no sign of him.

 It was nice though, even though Henrik’s disappearance tore everyone else apart, it seems like the two of them have gotten even closer. Guess that’s the weird thing about tragedies, sure life sucks but you still got to live it.

 He’d finished putting up the posters and was heading back home to Septic inc. when through the glass door he saw an old timey man standing around, looking a bit lost.

 “Need a hand, or a guide?” he asked, letting himself in. The man jumped and stumbled a bit.

 The stranger, most likely a new ego since no one else could enter this building, wore a white button-up shirt and a black vest over it. He also wore black dress pants and shoes and his right eye was slightly darker shade of blue than his left. He also had mint green hair and a bowler hat.

 “You new here?”

 Marvin also appeared in a the doorway, looking tried and a bit disheveled. He brightened up at the stranger.

 A black-and-white slide appeared in the stranger’s hands, reading: “I am new. I am not sure how I got here.”

 “Cool slides. Are they magic or something?” Marvin asked, examining them closer.

 The slide changed. “Magic? I don’t know, I can just summon them without much thought. I use them to communicate.”

 “Cool, bro!” Chase winked, giving awkward finger guns.

 “You got a name or do you just wanna be Dapper man?” Marvin jokes.

 The dapper stanger looks almost offended for a split second, or maybe it was just Chase overreacting. Next second he’s smiling again and the slide says something different.

 “Jameson Jackson. Pleased to meet you!” He holds out his hand, holding the slide in his other.

 “Marvin. And this is Chase.” He tips his cap at his name.

 “Why don’t I take Jameson here on a tour. Greyson’s waiting for you on the roof,” Marvin said, grabbing the newer ego by the arm.

 “Alright, just don’t freak him out,” he replied, noticing a slight look of distress on the dapper ego’s face.

 “I won’t.” The magician gave him a sinister smile that didn’t help Chase’s paranoia.

 With that the two disappear through the doorway Marvin just appeared from, pushing the button on the elevator first.

 On the roof, standing at the edge stood a man in jeans and a bright red hoodie. The hood was down relieving a head of grass-green hair and a blue mask.

 “Grey!” he called, a grin forming on his face. The man spun around a grin also painted on his face, but weaker.

 “So I’m guessing no new news?” The man’s expression drops and he turns back towards the edge.

 Chase would step closer but he doesn’t trust himself not to tumble right over the side. It’s only a three story drop to the ground, so he could survive but who’s gonna take the chance.

 “It’s been almost ten months and still not even a ransom note or something!” He draws in a long, shaky sigh.”I’m thinking… what if An- you-know-who didn’t take him and he just left.”

 Chase felt like he was just stabbed. For a second the tumble to the ground didn’t sound so bad.

 “How could you say that! Henrik would never do that, and even if he did he would’ve told someone or left a note!” He had to stop himself from going into an angry rant.

 Greyson held his hands up in defence. “I know, I know. It was just a theory, he would’ve also taken some of his stuff as well.” He audibly gulped and wiped the sweat from his brow.

 “I’m just saying,” he continues looking down at the street, “that if you-know-who did take him, he would probably be de-” he suddenly cuts off, his eyes growing wider.

 “I know he could be dead right now but you can’t really be giving-” Greyson punches him lightly and frantically points at someone below, stuttering to get anything out.

 There on the sidewalk, marching forward like he was hired to kill ironman, was Henrik Von Schneeplestein in the flesh. From here he looked normal but they could see large purple marks peppering his skin.

 They scramble for the elevator before silently deciding the rush down the stairs. They made it to the bottom just as Henrik opened the door.

 His eyes were bloodshot, his nails and hair long and dirty, his coat torn to shreds, his glasses cracked, overall he looked close to passing out or just straight up dying on the spot, yet he still held himself up.  

 They were too stunned to speak. He wasn’t sure when, but at some point tears started spilling from Chase’s eyes.

 Greyson moved forward to hug him put he raised his arm up to stop him.

 “I’m sorry, I’d love to hug you but if I do my legs will give out or I’ll start bleeding again.” He hissed with pain just from moving his arm. It was taking a lot of energy and concentration just to keep from falling over right now.

 “It’s been nine months,” Greyson squeaked, barely a whisper. He himself felt like he was about to pass out, he’d already joined Chase in crying.

 “I’m aware.” Nine months of seemingly being tortured and he’s still a smart-ass. Chase could help giggling a bit, which soon dissolved into full on laughter.

 Greyson soon joined him and so did Henrik, but for him it turned into a coughing fit. There was blood on his hands and none of them were sure if he coughed it up or if a cut on his hand reopened.

 “There’s a new guy isn’t there?” the doctor asked.

 “How did you know about that?”

 He didn’t respond, instead he pushed pass them and stepped into the hallway. The two glanced at each other before following.

 Right as they stepped in, Marvin rounded the corner holding onto Jameson. Jameson was holding his hand over his right eye. Chase could see blood soaking through his fingers.

 “Jackie! Chase! Henrik?!!” the magician panted. “I ah- wait- I didn’t. Henrik!”

 He let go of the dapper man and stared dumbfounded.

 “Marv,” he stated quietly, his voice cracking.

 The magician swooped him into a hug without a second thought, forgetting the newer ego clearly in need of some help.

 “I umm.” He clears his throat. “I thought you were dead.” Tears ran down his face.

 “I thought I was dead to.” The doctor mumbled, barely a whisper, before he fell apart and collapsed into Marvin’s arms.

 Jameson on the other hand was looking more and more antsy. He tapped on Marvin’s shoulder and another slide appeared.  

 “Hate to break up whatever’s happening here but I have a little problem.” The slide floats as he points to his eye.

 “Oh right. Ah, Chase! Jackie! Take JJ here to the hospital wing and have Dr. Septiceye patch him up,” Marvin commanded.

 “Doctor who now?” Henrik groaned.

 “Not important right now,” he hushes, carrying him off to his room.

 As much as they want to stay with the doctor, Jackie and Chase obey and lead Jameson up stairs.

 Chase had only ever been the the hospital wing once after Henrik’s disappearance and that was just to show Dr. Jack Septiceye around. Now it looked nothing like the old E.R. Henrik ran.

 Everything had been replaced, everything that made the room homey, everything that made the room Henrik’s. The cozy pull-out couch that he would sleep in often was replaced with another hospital bed and the vintage wooden desk was replaced with a cold, metal, new one.

 Just opening the door to this place sent a shiver down the father-of-two’s spine.

 Dr. Septiceye himself was currently hunched over said desk. He was trying to look like he was doing work, but from what Chase knew about the man, he was probably doing a coloring sheet.

 Greyson cleared his throat and the “totally-real-doctor” spun around while stuffing whatever paper he was working on under a pile of other papers.

 Chase smiles half-heartedly, guestering to Jameson’s problem.

 “Ah, yes leave him over there.” He points to a hospital bed, not seeming too interested in doing his job.

  They comply. The doctor sighs before getting up and grabbing some disinfectant and bandages.

 “Can you tell me when and why your eye started bleeding?” he asks, carefully cleaning the blood off his hand and face with a small cloth.

 The dapper ego shook his head.

 “You two can leave,” he says offhandedly.

 ***

“Today's been pretty chaotic hasn’t it?” Greyson asked. The two were now sitting back on the roof, Greyson with his feet dangling over the edge of the building and Chase sitting a safe distance away.

 “It most certainly has.” He lets out a deep, tired sigh.

 “Something up?”

 “I just… feel like I should be a bit happier about Henrik returning and JJ showing up, but instead I’m just scared.”

 “Scared? How?” The hero scoots a bit closer to him.

 “Now with Henrik back you-know-who is going to try and get him back or attack JJ here and…” he trails off, putting his head in his hands.

 “I might have a solution!” Marvin said, appearing from seemingly nowhere.

 “Solution? What do you mean?” Greyson asks. The two of them now standing up.

 “Well I can’t put my idea into effect till tomorrow nor can i really explain without it sounded really bad, but with a bit of magic I can get us some help.” He twirls his finger in the air. “Of course I’ll need one of you to help me.”

 Chase and Greyson glance at each other before either of them spoke.

 “I’ll help you out. Grey’s gotta do hero work anyway.”

 Marvin clapped his hands together. “Alright, meet me at the cemetery tomorrow at eleven a.m. sharp.” With that he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

 “D-did he say the cemetery?”

 Greyson noded.

[callyneelise]

Derek

In the fall of 2013 I was starting Halloween Horror Nights, per usual, and found out I was assigned to the Evil Dead maze. 2013 was a tough year for me. I had a lot of drama going on and as HHN started I wasn’t in the best place mentally. As we began our run for the season I kept mostly to myself. But not even a week into the run a group of guys performing in our maze befriended me. Three dudes who all saw me for me, recognized me as a nice albeit unique human, and made effort to include me and enjoy my company. Amongst those friends was Derek Stockwell. He had moved from Ohio and was blindly following a career in the arts with zero money and with no plan whatsoever. We both attended the after work dinner meet ups and wouldn’t order anything because neither of us had the money and this relation helped us bond rather quickly. Derek, along with my other bros I had bonded with, became a life long friend. 

In 2014 I got Derek a job at my Starbucks. I remember closing with him. He would go into the lobby to mop and he’d sing while doing it. It was the most peaceful and beautiful way to end my shifts, listening to his beautiful voice sing celtic style fireside songs. And that year for my birthday Derek surprised me by bringing an ice cream cake to my apartment…I hate ice cream cake, but the gesture was so sweet I ate two slices right then and there. 

In 2015 I had a rather self indulgent birthday party at Round One, where all these boys, Derek included, came to celebrate with me by posing for silly Japanese photo booth pictures and singing karaoke on little personal stages. So…

in 2016 I (with the help of his best friend) did some sleuthing and found out when Derek’s birthday was (he refused to tell us) and I threw him the best damn surprise party a gal could throw. He was indeed surprised when he arrived. We spent the evening playing video games and singing more karaoke. 

And in 2016 I went through an awful break up and my little group of friends, that included Derek, fell apart right before my very eyes. I did my damnedest to keep us together but life has a way of pulling people into a million different directions. 

But even after that Derek was still around. He’d reach out to me occasionally and we’d hang out, mostly getting high and watching Harry Potter. I would bring him coffee from Starbucks and he’d sing for me. We’d cute out together over his many adorable rodent pets. And he’d pep talk me through my sorrows of love.

Derek and I related on a lot of levels. He and I were both raised in very religious backgrounds but had grown and evolved to think differently than our initial upbringing. We both struggled daily with depression and were very open about it with each other, maybe too candidly. We both struggled in the relationships department. (lol) We both had a deep yearning for creative outlets and both connected deeply to music. (The same types of music to be specific.) And we both felt a daily struggle to be understood. We didn’t even understand each other. But we didn’t have to understand each other to relate. And thats what we were urning for. Someone to relate to. Thats how we stayed close.

I used to get annoyed with Derek because he would rationalize EVERYTHING. I hated it. He’d lay out facts and then make a game plan based off the facts. Meanwhile I was over here dwelling on the many thoughts and feelings I had attacking my every choice. But Derek was always smarter than me in that way, so I looked to him when I needed clear concise thinking. And the best thing about him was that he could have that logic while still having empathy for my feelings. He was so emotionally beautiful in that way. Most people can’t do both. Derek did. 

In the last few days I have seen and read a lot of very beautiful things about Derek. But something I keep seeing is people saying how they wish they had reached out more. How they wish Derek would have reached out more. That they wish he knew how loved he was and how alone he wasn’t. But here’s the thing everyone… Derek KNEW he was loved. He knew it! And I say that with a factual truthiness that Derek himself would agree with. All those memories you guys are posting, all the laughter, all the good times, all of that is what assured Derek he was loved and not alone. Derek was tired. He was exhausted by a pain too powerful for any person to fight. And it is sad. It’s so sad it physically hurts my body to think about it. And he used that damned logic of his and figured out a solution. Not a good one. But one that made sense to him. So as I miss my buddy I am trying to remind myself that he knew he was loved. That I and all of his friends and family made sure he knew just how loved he was. I have the pictures and videos to assure myself of it, since Derek isn't here to point it out for me. I’m trying to work through this tragedy the way Derek would advise me to. How he would want me to. I know Derek knew how loved he was and now he is resting. No longer suffering in pain but resting peacefully and with all the love in this world to keep his memory alive.

Lastly, I speak directly to Derek: I love you buddy. I’m so sorry you were in so much pain and I’m so sorry we couldn’t find a way to ease it for you. I’m missing your voice, your singing. I’m so glad you recorded yourself singing. I will listen to it often, especially at night when I’m struggling to ground myself. I’m lonely without you buddy. The others have found their match but I haven’t and not having you to keep me company during this experience is hard. Caring for all the critters in this world is a lonelier business without you. I’m heartbroken that our little group we had will never be the same, even though I know you’d tell me it would never be the same regardless of your presence or not. I remember when you said to me you wished it could be like old times. And I agreed. We were so stupid lol. You once tried to comfort me by telling me that people from your past whom you missed would occasionally show up in your dreams, and that that was enough. So I look forward to seeing you in my dreams buddy. I miss you terribly and I love you immensely. Stay strong sir and rest well.       

[phantasticlizzy]

Your Mess Is Mine

Summary: “I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a serious tone, catching Dan off guard.

“Do you?” honestly, it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Yes. You’re thinking that this hat totally clashes with everything else I’m wearing, and you’re not wrong.” He was looking at Dan with round, shiny eyes. Dan blinked at him a few times, dumbstruck.

——————————— A university!au where Dan is a third year student dealing with demons from his past, and Phil is the peculiar guy from his Greek mythology class who he just can’t quite get out of his mind.

warnings: mention of suicide (not discussed in detail), Minor Character Death

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12640926/chapters/35442285

also check out the amazing art @ninapons made for this fic!! hereand here

SHE’S ALIVE!!! so sorry for the wait guys! hope you’ll like the chapter :) ( @quercussp i know it’s like, 2 weeks late, but can i still get a gold star for finishing this please? <3 )  

chapter 12

words for this chapter : 4624 

read last chapter here

start at the beginning

Dan was knocking on Phil’s front door at 9 PM on the 31th, taking a step back and waiting for someone on the other side to open it for him.

Phil spent most of the last 2 days at the hospital. His father’s condition was worsening quickly, he explained to Dan, so they haven’t got the chance to see each other, making do with texts and brief phone calls. Dan suggested they skip the party, feeling that going out to celebrate might not be appropriate with everything that was going on, but Phil insisted they should go.

“It’s exactly why we should go,” Phil told him over the phone, voice exhausted and words a little slurred. “I could use a break if I’m honest.”

Dan didn’t try to argue. The way in which Phil handled the tragedies in his family was still confusing to him, still caught him off guard from time to time, but he came to accept it. It made his heart ache, thinking about how Phil was already used to this. How his dad was just another person their family “curse” was going to eventually take. But he tried not to think about it too much. He knew how much he himself hated when people questioned his way of dealing with Oliver’s death, and he didn’t want to do the same to Phil.

When the door finally opened, Dan was met with the sight of Martyn, looking him up and down. Martyn was wearing his weird, trousers/skirt again, a colorful jumper and a big, welcoming smile.

“Well, aren’t you looking dapper?” Martyn said, making Dan’s cheeks heat a little under his blunt stare.

Dan was wearing a button down black shirt, black coat, his regular skinny jeans and his best looking dress shoes. He was pretty happy with himself when he looked at the mirror before heading out, nodding at his reflection with approval. But Martyn’s tone always had a layer of tease to it, which managed, sometimes, to make Dan a little flustered.

“Thanks,” he said, following Martyn inside.

“Phil! Your date is here! All dressed up for you!” Martyn called once they were inside, closing the door after them and moving towards the lounge with Dan strolling behind him, sitting down on the couch.

There was a loud bang noise coming from Phil’s room, and a quick “I’m okay! Just a moment!” following right after.

Dan haven’t even seen him yet, but Phil was already making him smile, causing a flash of fondness to spread through his body. He really, genuinely, missed Phil a lot in the last 2 days, and it made him even more excited to spend New Year’s Eve with him.

“he changed outfits like five times,” Martyn said, looking at Dan with a look that was half amused half despaired, “whatever he ends up wearing, just tell him it looks good, please, if you don’t want to spend the rest of your night here waiting for him to choose something else. “

“Will do,” Dan said, exchanging an amused look with Martyn.

From their first meeting, Dan felt like it was easy for him to get along with Martyn. They didn’t have a lot in common, and Martyn had this strangely cool, a little bizarre aura around him that made Dan feel a little intimidated from time to time, but he felt like they both shared such a deep fondness towards Phil, a common desire to make him happy and content, that it made them automatically like each other. And maybe, Dan thought, Martyn was a little happy to take a step back, let someone else worry about Phil’s well-being for a change.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Dan asked him, when waiting for Phil turned out to take more than ‘just a moment’, sitting down on the couch as well.

Martyn looked almost surprised that Dan asked, but composed himself quickly, smiling a pleased smile. “Oh, Corn and I are going to a friend’s place as well, it’s a little out of town so we’ll be staying there till tomorrow.” he said, patting Dan’s shoulder and smirking a bit. “So the place is all yours, mate.”

Dan couldn’t help but let out a loud, nervous laugh. “Thanks,” he said, trying to cover the way Martyn’s words were making something funny happen in his stomach.

It’s not that the topic of sex embarrassed him, not really. But as much as Martyn was young and friendly, Dan still viewed him as a bit of a parental figure in Phil’s life, and hearing him teasingly hint at the subject made him feel uncomfortably warm in his winter coat.

But to Dan’s relief, at that moment Phil decided to finally enter the room, babbling “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m ready!” one hand subconsciously playing with the collar of his shirt.

He was wearing a salmon colored jumper with big white cat whiskers on it. Under the jumper, he had a white button down shirt buttoned all the way to the last button, and his usual skinny jeans and white sneakers. Dan had no idea how someone could look so cute in his eyes, and yet so handsome, all at the same time.

“Hey,” Phil said softly once his and Dan’s eyes locked, and Dan could feel a smile spreading on his face.

“Hello yourself.” Dan got up and made his way to Phil, pressing his lips to his in a quick peck, ignoring the disapproving noises Martyn was making behind him.

“Do I look okay?” Phil asked, before Dan had any chance to say something himself, pulling on the fabric of his jumper a little.

“You look great,” Dan reassured.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t this like… too pale?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Because I usually don’t like wearing light colors, I’m already too pale myself.”

“Well, I really think it suits you.” Dan let his hand trail from Phil’s shoulder down his arm, linking their fingers when his hand found Phil’s.

Phil’s face perked up, smiling big at Dan. “Thank you! Cornelia bought me this jumper for Christmas, I’ll tell her you approve,” he said, swinging their linked hands from side to side. “Oh, and you look really good too, by the way. Really really good,” Phil added, smiling cheekily at Dan.

“Why, thank you,” Dan smiled back at him.

“Argh, you guys are disgusting, get out of here with your honeymoon phase,” Martyn grumbled (even though Dan could clearly see from the corner of his eye that he was smiling), taking a pillow from the couch and throwing it at their direction.

Phil giggled, letting go of Dan’s hand and sticking his tongue out at Martyn, making Martyn mirror the action. “Don’t worry, we’re going,” Phil said, adjusting his collar again. “Wish Corn a happy new year for me.”

Martyn let out a little whiny noise, stretching his arms out and making grabby hands towards Phil. “What about me? Come give your brother a New Year’s kiss,” Martyn pouted exaggeratedly.

Phil rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was big and fond. He walked towards the couch where Martyn was sitting, putting two hands on his shoulders and leaning down to give him a loud kiss on the forehead. “Happy new year, I love you,” he said, squeezing Martyn’s shoulders before straightening up.

“Love you too, little bro, have fun,” Martyn said, and his voice was softer than Dan was used to hearing it, less teasing.

Dan found himself, not for the first time, a little jealous of Phil’s and Martyn’s relationship. Dan and his brother were never close. He used to blame it on their age difference, but at some point, when his brother grew up a bit, he knew it came down to a lack of effort on both sides. He loved his brother, the way a person has to love a family member, but they had no deeper connection than that.

Dan felt like, in the past, all the familial closeness he desired he got from his relationship with Oliver. And it wasn’t like he and Oliver had a brotherly relationship, far from it (Dan felt uncomfortable even thinking about it in those terms), but he did provide Dan with all he craved for from his family – unconditional support, company, love and comfort. And somewhere along the way, he forgot that maybe his family, maybe Adrian, needed someone like that too. Needed an older brother like Martyn was to Phil.

He also knew that a big reason for Phil’s and Martyn’s closeness was their life circumstances. They went through a lot together, lost so much, and probably learned to appreciate each other more. And Martyn, Dan had to admit, was just a really good older brother. He took upon himself to care for Phil, to provide him stability (as much as was possible in their situation) and familial warmth. He felt responsible for Phil’s well-being, even though Phil was an adult, and Dan admired that.

“Let’s go,” Phil said, after putting his puffy coat and mittens on (he didn’t put on a hat, in spite of Dan’s insistence, saying he didn’t want to mess up his hair).

“Let’s go,” Dan echoed, following Phil outside.

______________________________________

They took the bus to PJ’s place, sitting near the back, Dan next to the window and Phil next to him. Phil didn’t waste any time, cuddling up to Dan as soon as they sat down, wrapping his arms around Dan’s arm and putting his head in his shoulders.

The bus was surprisingly empty, only a few other people who didn’t pay them any attention, (except one young woman, who caught Dan’s eyes and smiled at him politely, nodding her head a little).

“I missed you so much,” Phil said, rubbing his cheek against Dan’s coat.

“I missed you too,” Dan said, and he didn’t even care how sincere he sounded. He did miss Phil, more than he thought was possible to miss someone in two days.

Phil lifted his head a little, looking at Dan with his big blue eyes and pursing his lips in a silent request. Dan didn’t protest, leaning down and giving Phil a quick kiss, which seemed to leave Phil unsatisfied, letting out a whine, head-butting his shoulder and squeezing his arm.

Dan chuckled, reaching his hand up and pushing Phil’s hair out of his face a little, kissing his forehead. “Sorry, but we’re on the bus,” Dan said, letting his hand slide down from Phil’s forehead to his cheek, pinching it a little and making Phil let out another protesting sound.

“But I want to kiss you now!” he whined.

“Be patient baby.”

At that Phil got quiet, lowering his head and burying it in Dan’s shoulder again. Dan could feel the heat from Phil’s face against the skin if his neck. “You can’t call me that when you don’t want me to kiss you. That’s like… a rule. If you call me cute names I’m going to snog your face off,” Phil mumbled, muffled by Dan’s skin. “You’ve been warned.”

Dan chuckled, trying to sound unaffected but failing miserably. “Noted,” he said.

_______________________

The drive took less than 30 minutes, and in that time Phil managed to doze off on Dan’s shoulder, letting out little puffs of air against his neck. The young woman was still giving them little glances from her seat, but she was smiling a warm smile so Dan tried not to pay her too much attention.

When they got to their stop Dan woke Phil up with a little shake and dragged him off the bus quickly, earning himself a stream of barely audible mumbles.

Phil rubbed his eyes, yawning big and loud before attaching himself again to Dan’s side, making it a little hard for Dan to walk.

“Tired?” Dan asked when Phil yawned for the third time.

“A little.”

“Are you sure you want to go to the party? We can always head back, have a night in,” Dan suggested, feeling a little guilty for dragging Phil out when he clearly needed the rest. They stopped walking, and Dan turned to look at Phil, trying to convey that the suggestion was a genuine one.

Phil shook his head, looking at Dan with much more focused eyes. “No, I want to go, I want you to have a fun night with your friends, and I want to meet them,” he said, determined.

Phil looked sincere, and Dan could feel warmth spreading from his chest to the rest of his body. Here he was, spending his New Year’s Eve with this adorable guy, who Dan knew was tired and spent and didn’t even liked parties all that much, who still wanted to go and have fun for Dan’s sake. To put it simply, Dan felt lucky. “Yeah, okay,” Dan said, smiling at Phil and starting to walk again.

But to his surprise, Phil stopped him, grabbing the sleeve of his coat and making him turn back to face him.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked.

Phil’s expression changed, looking a little sheepish, letting go of his sleeve and reaching up to play with the zipper of Dan’s coat. “Just… do you remember? What I said?” He asked, not meeting Dan’s eyes.

“About what?” Dan asked, feeling confused by the sudden change in the mood.

“About… you know…” he trailed off, sneaking one of his hands down Dan’s body and taking hold of Dan’s hand, squeezing tightly and finally lifting his eyes up to look at him.

Oh.

Dan certainly remembered. Spent the last 2 nights thinking about the odd request, and about Phil’s intense look when he told Dan his “condition”.

“Yeah, of course,” Dan said, squeezing back. “I won’t let go.”

“Promise?” Phil asked, and to Dan’s surprise he sounded a little nervous.

“Yes,” Dan answered, trying to smile reassuringly.

“No matter what?”

“Yes.”

Phil studied his eyes for a moment before he smiled, his expression changing into a sly one. “Even if you need to pee?” Phil asked, his tone joking.

Dan shrugged. “We can leave a crack in the door. You’ll reach as far as you can in and I’ll reach as far as I can out, it’ll be fine.”

Phil giggled, and Dan felt quite pleased with himself for making him relax. He let go of Dan’s hand, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that,” he said, tone a little whiny.

Dan grabbed Phil’s wrists, pulling them away from his face. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, love,” he said, taking a step closer to Phil.

Phil had an unreadable expression on his face, his intense eyes staring right at Dan’s. “I warned you about the cute names,” he said eventually, and before Dan had a chance to react, Phil launched himself forward, kissing him with force, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Dan felt like the wind got knocked out of his lungs, and it took his a moment to register what was going on. But the street was empty and Phil’s lips were soft and eager, and really, Dan had no desire to protest.

______________________

When they finally reached PJ’s and Sophie’s place, Phil was pressed closely to Dan's side, his cool hand was clutching Dan's tightly. He looked calm, smiling big and bright at Dan when he looked to see how he was doing.

There was music and sounds of people talking coming from inside the flat, but they were faint, which made Dan feel some relief. He knew Phil definitely didn't want to spend his night at a loud, headache inducing party, and even though he knew PJ's party most likely wouldn't be like that, he was still a little nervous.

He knocked on the door, squeezing Phil's hand a few times while waiting for it to open. The door was opened less than a minute later by a redheaded girl Dan vaguely recognized as one of Sophie’s friends, who smiled at them politely when they greeted her, telling them PJ was in the kitchen before leaving to get back to her friends.

They took off their winter coats (Phil was laughing at Dan when he determinedly tried to do so without letting go of Phil’s hand, switching his hold to the other hand to take down each sleeve, making the process very complicated but absolutely worth the huge happy smile on Phil's face).

When they were done, Dan tugged on Phil's hand to follow him, leading them to the kitchen area where they were met with the sight of PJ, taking out bottles from the fridge. PJ lifted his head up when he heard them approaching, a friendly smile finding its way to his face.

“Well hello there, long time no see,” PJ said, putting the bottle in his hand on the counter and wiping his damp hand on his jeans before making his way to them.

“Hey Peej,” Dan greeted back, patting PJ awkwardly on the shoulder, (after stepping forward for a hug and then changing his mind, remembering Phil's hand in his). If PJ was surprised by the strange greeting, he definitely didn't show it. “This is Phil,” Dan introduced, smiling at Phil with encouragement.

Phil was smiling big right back at PJ, but his cheeks were a little pink and his look a little distant, which made Dan feel alert. “Hello,” he said, waving his unoccupied hand, “I think we actually know each other? Kind of.”

PJ looked confused for a second, looking at Phil intently, before his eyes blew wide in realization. “Oh! We do!” He exclaimed, a genuine look of surprise on his face. “Good to see you man, I like your new hair,” PJ said, making Phil reach self-consciously to pet his black fringe.

“Thank you! I wasn't too sure about the length, but I like it black,” Phil said.

“No no, it's a good length, don't worry,” PJ reassured, leaving Dan feeling slightly confused, even if quite happy to see PJ and Phil seemed to get along.

PJ turned to look at Dan, his smile vaguely apologetic, as if he was saying sorry for confusing him. “We went to sixth form together. Both did A level art,” PJ explained, gesturing towards Phil with his thumb. “This guy always had the strangest looking art, our teacher didn't know what to do with it.”

“Yeah… She never did understand my creative mind,” Phil said, shaking his head and making PJ laugh.

Dan laughed too. It wasn't hard for him to imagine that the art Phil produced probably wasn't the most conventional.

“Oh man, this is such a small world. How did you guys meet?” PJ asked, gesturing to their joint hands.

“We had Greek mythology class together this semester,” Dan answered, happy he could contribute something to the conversation.

PJ’s eyes widened again, blinking in surprise. “Are you in the same uni as us, Phil? I didn't know that.” PJ exclaimed.

“Umm, yeah I am. But it's okay! I took two gap years, so it's understandable you never saw me. Also I'm absent a lot,” Dan could feel Phil getting flustered, and was just about to change the subject when PJ spoke again.

“Right” he said, and his face had an unreadable expression on it that made Dan a little agitated for some reason, but he pushed the feeling aside. “I'm glad I got to see you now mate, it's been a long time, we need to catch up’” Phil smiled at him, nodding a little. “Grab yourself something to drink yeah? I'll go back to the lounge, rescue Sophie from hosting by herself,” he said, taking the bottle he took out earlier, raising it in a “cheers” motion before leaving to join the rest of his guests.

When PJ was out of the room Dan turned to Phil, squeezing his hand tightly. “That’s such a strange coincidence,” Dan said, studying Phil’s expression.

“Yeah,” Phil said quietly, looking somewhere to the left of Dan’s face, and Dan could feel an unexplainable pit of anxiety in his stomach.

“Are you okay? You looked a little uncomfortable,” he asked. He needed Phil to say more. To explain why he looked so unreachable all of a sudden.

Phil shook his head in dismissal, finally focusing on Dan’s eyes, making him relax a little. “No no, it’s okay, just wasn't expecting to see him after all these years,” he said, his unoccupied hand moving to Dan’s collar, smoothing the material between his fingers.

“Did you… Not get along or something?” Dan asked carefully.

“No, we actually did,” Phil said, smiling. “I told you I had… a bit of a reputation back in school. And people usually didn't really want to be my friends, at least if they weren't seeking… something else,” Phil said, his eyes dropping to his own hand on Dan’s collar, shrugging. And even though he tried to sound unbothered Dan knew he still was. “But PJ was always nice to me, we weren't really friends but he used to sit next to me in art class and talk to me about like… regular silly things. I was always looking forward to that.” Phil said, lifting his eyes and looking at Dan again, scrunching his nose in a way that really shouldn't be as adorable as it was.

“Here I go again, making everything more complicated than it should be,” he said, shaking his head. “It's really okay. I just didn't expect to see him here, that's all,” Phil said, and Dan hated that Phil still felt the need to down play things he was feeling in front of him.

But he said nothing, squeezing Phil's hand and leaning down to kiss his lips softly for a moment. “What do you want to drink?” Dan asked when he pulled away, pulling on Phil's hand to follow him to the fridge.

Phil smiled a happy smile, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes like usual, squeezing Dan's hand back. “Something sweet please.”

Dan laughed, rolling his eyes but bringing Phil’s hand up to his lips for a quick kiss, making Phil beam at him.

“Of course that's what you want.”

_____________________________________

Dan found, quickly enough, that Phil’s hand holding rule wasn’t nearly as restricting as he thought it would be.

Sure, it was a little awkward greeting people, especially when he forgot about it a few times and ended up giving weird half gestures before remembering, getting some confused looks at the process.

But it was also nice, grounding.

Phil’s hand was extremely soft to touch, slightly smaller than Dan’s and even after holding it for quite some time it still didn’t feel too warm against his.

“I moisturize,” Phil said when Dan comment on the softness of his skin, his tongue getting a little loose after the 2 beers he had.

Phil also wasn’t shy about cozying up to Dan, pressing closely and demanding attention. Usually, when they were in public, he did try to control Phil’s clingy tendencies a little, as public displays of affection tended to get him unnecessarily flustered and a little embarrassed.

But this was a party, and PJ and Sophie were curled up together on the other sofa and so were a few other couples, and honestly, no one really seemed to care.

From time to time, people came over to talk to them. Dan knew most of the people there at least by face, introducing them to Phil and letting his strangely charming boyfriend lead the conversations, smiling fondly when he said something odd enough to make the other person look at Dan for guidance, earning only an amused shrug in return.

But for some reason, no one really stayed to talk to them for more them a few minutes, all making polite excuses to leave the conversation.

“You just have an aura of a new, lovey dovey couple about you. Like you want to be left alone,” PJ said to Dan. They were talking in the hallway, while Dan was waiting for Phil to come out of the bathroom. (Dan did suggest he’d actually come and hold his hand while he peed, to which Phil whined loudly and covered his face again, making Dan feel like his heart might just explode out of his chest. He did, however, hover not far from the bathroom in the hallway, meeting PJ there when he went to take something from the other room).

“I feel bad,” Phil said later. They were sitting on a two seater sofa, their heads resting next to each other on the back cushions, face to face, hands linked together between them.

It was 3 minutes to midnight and all around them was a small buzz of excitement, people saying they should turn the TV on, to see the fireworks.

“About what?” Dan asked. He was studying Phil’s face closely for the last 20 minutes, noting every freckle, every smile line and every mole, letting his fingers go over the parts that felt extra special in his hazy mind, memorizing them by touch and making Phil giggle.

“We came here so you could have a fun night with your friends, but I ended up keeping you all to myself,” he said, his blue eyes looking a little dark in the dim light of the room.

Dan smiled, closing his eyes when Phil’s hand came up automatically, poking his dimple. “Doesn’t matter. I think I mainly wanted to show you off a little anyway, let everyone see how lucky I am,” he said, and while he said it, he realized how true his words were.

Sure, he wanted to see PJ, and spending the night with him and their university acquaintances was a nice way to spent New Year’s Eve, but he realized that most of all he wanted everyone to see how happy he finally was, how happy Phil was making him.

How he wasn’t really interested anymore in going to random pubs with them for the sole purpose of trying to meet new people, and going on one unsuccessful date after the other, looking for something he didn’t actually think he’ll get to find again after losing it once before.

He finally had what he was missing, and even though it made him feel a little bit childish, a little silly, he wanted everyone to see him like this; happy, content and with the greatest, most beautifully unique person by his side.

Phil didn’t say anything, but when people started the countdown leading to midnight, Dan opened his eyes and looked at him. He almost felt the need to close them again right after, because Phil’s face was filled with so much emotion Dan wasn’t quite sure how to take it all in.

There was softness in there, and something that looked like genuine awe and, dare he say, love, and Dan felt dizzy with it all.

It looked like Phil was about to say something, but the clock hit 12 and everyone cheered, and Phil just shook his head before letting go of Dan’s hand and cupping his face, kissing him deep and slow, making Dan’s breath hitch.

“Take me home please,” Phil said after pulling away, his face still only an inch away from Dan’s.

“Are you tired?” Dan asked. His mind felt foggy and slow, but the instinct to take care of Phil was still there, strong as ever.

Phil shook his head, smiling. “Not at all,” he said, kissing Dan again. “But I think we should really get home. I know how shy you are about PDA, and I don’t think you’re going to appreciate what I’m about to do to you if we won’t get to a privet place soon.”

Oh.

Notes:

again, so sorry for the long wait guys, life was crazy, i'll try to update more often from now on :') please please tell me what you thought

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 40 PART 1/2: So Much Random Stuff Happens That It Requires Two Parts

Most of the time, Yugioh’s plot is delivered in nice, bizarre, bite-sized segments, offset by duels that I skip. But then, in this episode they decided “Hey, we should drop some plot. Like a lot of REALLY WACKY plot.”

And thus we have an episode with over 80 caps. So, this’ll be a two-parter! The other part will show up later. Like...when we finish it.

Also, despite the fact that this is probably one of the more important episodes of the season, it has quite some damage on the recording on Netflix. You’ll see that it isn’t really cropped right on the sides, and in some parts it’s got motion blur I couldn’t avoid. One day, Yugioh will get it’s Sailor Moon remaster, but this is not the day. Also, if they redubbed Yugioh, it would be an absolute tragedy, but that’s a different story.

TL;DR Forgive the massive amount of text in the upcoming recaps. There’s just so much they did and I uh...didn’t want this to end up being over 100 caps this episode alone.

So, lets get into it: The Yugi crew is looking for Pegasus.

For some reason, Tea suddenly remembers what went down the night before and decides “I bet Pegasus is hiding in that spooky tower we don’t actually know how to get into because we climbed it with a grappling hook.”

(Sometimes I get used to Yugi’s eyeliner and then they throw a shot like this at me and it’s like DAMN, Yugi, when did you have time to apply that stiletto heel to your face? Like most of the time I’m just put off by the awful hair and then the rest of the time I’m just really jealous of this emo boy’s wings.)

With that they suddenly remembered...the other stuff.

(read more under the cut)

I like how Joey is just so incredibly fed up with magic at this point. Out of all of them, he seems to hate magic the very most although his best friend is a walking dark magic portal. Joey is just completely done, but unfortunately for Joey it turns out all the magic up to this point hasn’t even remotely been the amount of magic that this show is going to throw at us, because this entire episode is a bunch of wizards just screwing with each other.

I’ve mentioned before that it feels like the power players of Yugioh are kinda like Greek Gods where they just really can’t be bothered about 95% of the time--but when they are FINALLY bothered enough to move their own ass, they just kinda sweep the floor clean and leave me utterly baffled.

Anyways, Pegasus actually is in the spooky tower, to my disbelief, at this non-euclidean desk that doesn’t seem to exist in time and space.

And then Kaiba wakes up in a cabbage-patch lookin jail cell. I would love to see more of his reaction to that but alas, this episode is not about Seto Kaiba.

Pegasus decided to make good on his word, mostly because Yugi is a cursed Pharaoh and he doesn’t want to see what happens if he doesn’t make his end of the bargain. To be quite honest, getting your mind scrambled would have probably been better than what did eventually happen to him in this episode.

Seriously, did this guy ever sell a painting that wasn’t a card? His portfolio would just be one person. And they do say that you shouldn’t make your portfolio too many styles but, damn, you can’t just do one person, unless your going to work for one specific type of video game, in which case sure just draw that one space punk chick over and over it seems to work for you.

Bakura decides to show up, and he’s very Bakura about it, introducing a new Bakura mechanic that I didn’t at all predict would ever be a thing.

Bless this storyboarder.

After showing off his weird tarot ability for no other good reason than to mess with Pegasus for a little bit, he decides to make me regret ever saying this necklace looked like it has five dicks.

I am so sorry, I had no idea! I had no idea it would be shooting lasers! What the hell, show?? What genre am I even watching anymore??

Also this whole concept that at any point these items can just shoot anime lasers and start a...whatever this trope is called, is so bizarre to me. They CAN do this...but they prefer to use cards.

They CAN do this, at any point, but they prefer to trap the souls of you and your friends in a card so you must play even more cards.

Or they can shoot you with a laser and solve their problems that way.

But why would they? They can like...play cards and do tarot and read minds and make card monsters real so who would ever want to shoot freakin lasers!

I do appreciate that Pegasus’ laser is pink like the salmon I chose for his font.

My bro argues that Pegasus probably sees just fine with the golden eyeball, but I feel like it can’t be the same, like a Spike Spiegal situation. It’s not like they ever tell us, anyway.

Him being alive for centuries is just never brought up for the rest of the episode. It comes up here and then Bakura’s like “Woopsie! Change the subject!”

Kid’s show!

As a kid an episode of the Rugrats freaked me the hell out--you know the one where Reptar becomes alive? I couldn’t take that one, it was terrifying. So maybe I’m not one to judge, because I was not a normal kid when it came to anxiety (in fact a legit phobia of dogs gave me pretty severe panic attacks on a weekly basis) but, it seems like Yugioh is a lot like brother’s Grimm because they are SO READY to cut off body parts, revive corpses, and overall gross me out, just to make a point.

Is it necessary? Eh.

But is it bizarre body horror we can stuff in this kid’s story? YES LETS DO IT.

With the way they set this up it looked as if they were just going to have them show up in the nick of time or something, but instead the show was like “lol, these kids? You’re kidding, right?”

He’s literally missing an eye and Croquet’s exact line was something like “he’s fallen ill.”

Also, I’m glad we got a cameo from Double-Spike Mohawk Mullet Man in this episode, giving Pegasus a fireman carry like a trooper.

So, because they can’t not, and because Pegasus’ security is only effective at random times of the day (they must have a lot of smoke breaks or something) the four decide to raid Pegasus’ bedroom. Why would you ever want to do this to the guy who was ritually sacrificing people the night before!?

Joey’s weird crushes on blondes that are...not in High School. Joey. Stop this. You are a child.

Anyways, Tea goes straight for the juicy stuff, because if there’s anything in this world that I would never ever want to read is a grown man’s journal filled with all his unfiltered thoughts.

Then we’re welcomed into a Pegasus Flashback, because why not make a tragic past even more tragic? Anyways, it’s OK because anime food lives here.

Bro called them gravity melons. I want to point out the party cups drawn from the side sitting on the round table we see from the top. Love it. Also realllllly love that guy with the mustache and glasses in the bottom right corner. There’s some good stuff here in this vaguely 80′s flashback.

Anyway, she totally dies. The flashback goes through things we’ve been over before--they get married, she gets sick, she turns into a rose and then becomes a grave in a really poorly kept graveyard.

And so Pegasus turns to religion. Yes, you read that right, He decides, he wants to find a religion that will explain afterlife to him, and he’s like I might as well start with the oldest and work up, so he goes to Egypt.

Uh...OK. I mean if you’re just looking for a religion with an afterlife you could have chosen...almost any of them. You could have stayed in America and like gone to...anywhere but, the guy was like “Mummies, youknow?” and went to Egypt although Cecelia is already dead and buried so it’s not like he can do the mummy trick to her now. It’s a little LATE?

My brother and I were so entranced by this bizarre hat, that we wanted to see if it’s ever been made real. AND IT HAS.

MARVEL AT IT:

IT IS VERY EXPENSIVE.

LOOK AT THAT DUMB HAT!

We checked Amazon for cheaper listings, but only found trucker hats with the Square Mason symbol on it, and Illuminati trucker hats like this one.

My brother wrote this note to them. I hope they read it and take it to heart.

Anyways, our newly found joy, held aloft by the discovery of perfect square brimmed hats was quickly sullied.

His hat is a transformer. But a round to square kind.

So in walks this guy. His name is Shadi. I’m telling you that right now because I want you to pay attention to how long it takes before we find out his name is Shadi. He is going to tell us his name at some point, and it’s very weird when it happens.

Pegasus doesn’t seem to realize it is not at all normal for a guy in modern Egypt to be walking around with this massive ankh on his chest (eh...you can’t see it in these pictures, but there’s a HUGE ankh just hanging around his neck) with earrings and pharaoh makeup. Pegasus is just that type of sheltered American. He’s like...well you look like someone from a movie so it must be legit. And that is how Pegasus decides to follow a guy who is clearly an ancient spooky wizard into an ancient death dungeon crypt.

I feel like Pegasus could have easily avoided this whole situation he got himself into.

Shadi has a whole speech about how the eyeball has a lot of power, and that he’s got to protect it all yada yada--but at the same time Shadi is like “BUT I gotta make sure some people use it so a lot of terrible things happen. You’d think I’d just...leave this stuff in this crypt so it’ll never be a problem and the world will never be cursed with terrible dark magic that was sealed away for thousands of years, but...I’m gonna make it happen anyway...and it’s not my fault...”

How many times has Shadi done this? It’s suggested that Pegasus is not the first.

It’s pretty gross, and while it’s done in shadow (which was a nice visual allusion to Shadow Magic), it’s still pretty gruesome for a kids show. To happen twice in one episode of this kid’s show, haha.

She calls him by his full name “Maxamillion” which made me realize he’s probably never shortened his name to “Max” in his entire life.

I’m glad Pegasus making out with a ghost happened on screen. This is now the most romance we’ve seen in all of Yugioh. Good.

So did Pegasus actually write the part where he made out with a vision, though?

I’m curious about how that process works. But, I don’t think we’ll ever find out.

Anyways, next time, on this very same episode of Yugioh:

Will Bakura stick this eyeball in he own eye or will he back out last minute and just hang it from his necklace and pretend it was there the whole time? Will Tea next read Pegasus’ food diary only to discover, in horror, that he drank upwards 60 liters of grape juice and far exceeded his daily calorie intake? Will security even realize these children have been snooping in all of Pegasus’ personal stuff for the past 30 minutes?