#very slightly horror-y and very slightly visceral
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i keep thinking abt this one sprite..
#ghost trick#ghost trick spoilers#pigeons arts#i cannot stop thinking about+doodling ghost trick#its terminal#also this drawing is about how to ME the most important thing abt ghost trick is that it is#very slightly horror-y and very slightly visceral#tho it definitely doesnt come across in this drawing but its what i am thinking abt#lynne#sissel
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Around The Realms in 80 days- Chapter 17
Pairing: Reader x Loki
Story summary: You have fallen through a portal during the convergence into Asgard and come face to face with Thor, and his brother Loki. With no way to return, you must travel with the two men and their hoard of asgardian soldiers to get back home. Things get from bad to worse when you have to share a tent with the god of mischief himself.
Notes: Um hello!!! I said there would be another chapter shortly for all of you who interacted with my last post mawahah! I'm so sorry this has taken me an insane amount of time I had about a three month break from writing and Tumblr and I've been very quiet! I won't go into all the details but it's been some ride but I am back finally and I hope to god some of you are still out there in the void answering me! Hope you enjoy this latest instalment, I feel a bit out of practice writing so I hope it doesn't seem disjointed or anything! Hopefully I won't leave it quite as long for the next chapter!
Read this story on a03!
find all parts to this story on Tumblr here
“What about this one?”
The book shop was warm and pretty crowded, it felt like you had been in for hours. Still, it was nice to be doing something normal…right?
Leaning against the wall, your thoughts flitted back. You had actually gone up to bed eventually last night and snuck in next to Loki. You had woken to an empty bed again.
If there was something you had noticed about Loki it’s that he was an early riser, not something you could ever relate to.
You had laid in bed for a while, pondering over if you had made the right decision. Internally groaning, you realised that you literally had nothing to wear for today again.
The people of New York are going to think I’m heavily into the medieval vibe you thought sadly, mentally running through the Asgardian dresses you owned trying to work out which would be the least LARP-y. Either that or go for the office aesthetic again, not something you were particularly interested in.
Finally, you had forced yourself up to face the horror inside the wardrobe (after a few attempts of waving your arms around like a maniac thanks to Tony’s technology). You opened it up and…
You blinked.
Had you accidentally transported yourself into someone else’s bedroom?
The wardrobe was filled with….well, normal earthly clothes in your size. Shirts, trousers, skirts, even some dresses that weren’t giving a peasant girl vibe.
“What the fuck?”
You took out a shirt that you would actually wear. Just in time, you heard the door to the apartment open.
“Loki did you…make me some clothes?” You yelled through.
He came into the bedroom, rubbing his hair with a little towel.
Jesus, you had to get your hormones under control, who gave him the right to look so pretty immediately after working out? If this was going to be a regular sight every morning you had got to stop reacting so viscerally.
“What are you squawking about now?”
“Did you…magic these clothes up for me?”
Loki raised a brow nonchalantly
“Well you were yapping about not having any clothes yesterday.” He stared at you and you stared back, incredulously.
He rolled his eyes,
“Fine I’ll get rid of them. Honestly make up your mind up. You complain about a lack of clothing and then complain when you have some…” He muttered.
“Hey, wait, I’m not complaining.”
“You’re not? That’s unusual.”
“It just…it just took me by surprise that’s all. It was…nice.”
Loki stared at you with his brow slightly furrowed, as if you were a puzzle he was yet to figure out.
Your insides twisted funnily.
“So…thanks.” You gave an awkward smile.
Loki tutted,
“I only did it because now you don’t have to spend any time today shopping for garments and we can focus on my book shopping instead.” He headed towards the kitchen.
You rolled your eyes.
“Sure.” You murmured, rummaging through your new clothes.
Now, you were stood in a book shop, dressed, curtesy of Loki, while you waited for him to pick out his books.
You had been kind of concerned when stepping out with him, that you might get attacked or something since you know, you were chaperoning the guy who destroyed New York after all, but to your surprise, barely anyone had given you a second glance.
People only see what they want to see after all and you doubted anyone had expected Loki to be wandering down the street.
“How many books can one person have? You’re so old, surely you’ve already read like every book in existence?” You moaned.
Loki shot you a pointed look but ignored your statement.
You turned round and browsed the shelf half-heartedly in front of you. Your interested piqued slightly, realising that there were some books in a similar vain to your examinations yesterday; ones that even Tony didn’t have in his collection. A particular book caught your eye,
“Norse mythology for dummies.”
Checking over your shoulder to make sure Loki wasn’t looking at you, you picked the book up and started flicking through.
With one last sly look at Loki, you jumped to the part about the man himself. There was a silly little picture of him looking rather impish, with red hair and jester like clothing.
You chuckled darkly, “suits him.”
You stared at him through your peripheral, trying to spot any similarities and struggled to find any with this cartoonish picture. You wondered if Loki realised how he was typically portrayed in books and if it upset him at all, he was rather vain after all. You found a biography section that you skimmed through.
“Loki has been described as the trickster god…. a shapeshifter, sometimes taking the form of a horse or an old woman…”
You snorted, putting that on the list of questions to ask him later.
“Loki’s relation with the gods is varied, sometimes he assists them and other times he is malicious towards them…Loki’s father Laufey is a Jotun, hailing from Jotunheim.. little is know about Loki’s mother.”
Wait..you suddenly remembered the fire demon talking about that.
You quickly flicked to the page about Jotunheim.
“Jotunheim is the home of the frost giants…”
“What are you doing, mortal?” Loki looked over at you curiously, startling you out of your reading and you snapped the book shut.
“N…nothing. Just doing a bit of homework. I’m going to go and get this book.”
You dodged Loki’s attempt at swiping the book from you and headed to the checkout.
Smiling briefly at the man behind the cashier, you paid for your book and a bag of sweets, and sat one on of the chairs near the door, returning to your page.
“A cold and barren world with very little sunlight…” you whispered under your breath as you skim-read the rest of the page.
There was a brief part on some notable events, including teenage Loki and Thor barely escaping having chased the giants for stealing some apples.
Kind of an over-reaction jeez, reminder to not steal apples on a different planet.
Also something about Loki loosing an eating contest to someone called Logi (finding out about Loki’s past was turning into a bit of a hoot). And finally Thor having to wrestle an old lady?
You shook your head. This was ridiculous. Nothing about Loki’s parentage though. You turned the page and found a portrait photo of a Jotun. He looked nothing like Loki, for starters this guy was blue with white markings on his face and chest.
You sighed and jumped to the pages on Muspelheim, the fire realm, instead. A few seconds looking at some more fire demons made you feel slightly queasy however, and you shut the book.
Just in time, you caught Loki wandering back over to you with a pretty hefty pile of books.
“Let’s leave mortal.” He stated, haughtily.
“Did you pay for those?” You asked him.
Loki rolled his eyes and tutted, but, in his defence, made his way back to the cashier.
“That will be a no then.” You muttered.
You watched him, brows raised to see how the man behind the checkout would react. Just as the rest of the public had, he did not seem to be phased despite Loki of Asgard now standing in his shop. In fact, he seemed to even be flirting with him.
Unbelievable.
“C’mon.” You grumbled once he returned to you grinning rather irritatingly.
The cooler air outside was a welcome change from the stuffy bookshop. Still, you were used to much cooler Septembers than this, and you missed your home autumn climate.
A pang of guilt hit you very briefly, as you thought about your family at home. They had seemed happy enough with the idea you were now working with Tony Stark, and you had failed to mention the whole dangerous space travel aspect.
“Have you got everything you wanted?” You turned to Loki.
“Indeed I have.”
“Excellent.” You moved to walk back to the towers.
“Ah.” Loki cleared his throat. “Actually, perhaps we could go to the coffee establishment you mention constantly.”
You blinked.
“You wanna go get coffee with me?” You asked, surprised.
He smirked,
“I know it must be difficult for a mortal like yourself to believe I would ever grace you with my presence…”
“Oh for…yeah whatever. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant…”
He continued smirking at you, annoyingly. God he pissed you off.
“Asshole.” You muttered and checked the time on your phone quickly.
“I have about an hour…” You spoke out loud without thinking.
“An hour?” He was still smirking.
“Hm?”
“Going somewhere are we? Surely my escort does not have any other prior engagements?”
“Gross, please don’t call me your escort.”
“You haven’t answered the question.”
“I erm…” You stuttered.
God why did you feel a twinge of guilt about telling Loki that you were meeting Oliver in the afternoon?
This was stupid, you had nothing to hide.
Loki continued to peer at you curiously, enjoying your discomfort.
“I’m meeting up with someone.”
“Oh?” Lokis smirk dropped finally, his face growing slightly more guarded.
“Prey tell, who is this mysterious figure?”
You rolled your eyes. “Come on, let’s go to the coffee shop.”
Loki fell into line next to you.
“I’m curious, just who could have taken my escorts attention away from me?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“You’re avoiding the question mortal.”
You sped up.
“I’m not avoiding it…”
You were only half listening to him, already deciding what to get at Starbucks. Since there was no Costa in New York. Boo. If you were going to get a coffee later with Oliver, you should probably not get one now or you would be jumping off the walls. It felt too warm still for hot chocolate season though…
Loki caught up pretty quickly with his long legs.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to New York.” You sighed wistfully as you looked around the streets.
Despite the shit-show that was your life currently, you had a sudden happy feeling flood you. You never believed you would even go to New York, and here you were walking around, enjoying the city.
“This is kind of cool right? I guess it didn’t settle in before. I really want to do the tourist bits before I leave, like the Empire State Building, central park and the statue of liberty. Maybe go see a show, visit Brooklyn Bridge, go the the Grand Central…hopefully if I survive the fire demons ill get to do them.”
Loki looked at you funnily,
“Why do you have to go home?”
You squinted up at him.
“Well I can’t stay here forever, I need to go…beg for my job back probably. I’m running on low funds here and I doubt Stark will let me live in the towers rent free forever like a little pet.” You snorted.
“And, once this all gets resolved…or you know even if it doesn’t, I’m not an Avenger or even in official employment of Stark. Plus this may surprise you I did have a life before all this.” You paused, “albeit not a very exciting one. Come on, let’s go to this Starbucks.” You stopped outside and entered.
“What are you going to order?” You asked him.
Loki rolled his eyes and looked at the board.
“There are far too many options.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty overwhelming. Well, erm, do you like coffee or not so much?”
“It is acceptable.”
“Erm, well there are different types of coffee I guess like espresso if you like a very strong coffee or a latte if you like milkier coffees.”
He rolled his eyes again.
“I know the different types of coffee, I have been to Midgard before.”
“Jesus. Well then, you can get syrups if you like them sweeter or there are options like frappachinos which are kind of more just milkshakes.”
“What will you be ordering?”
“My usual, a vanilla latte, my namesake after all.”
“Yes, the drink you had the day we first met.” Loki smirked.
“You mean the drink you caused me to spill everywhere when you literally pushed me over!”
“Haven’t we had this conversation before? I thought you were a spy.”
“Didn’t apologise for it though.” You muttered.
Finally you got to the front of the queue.
“Hi, I’ll have a vanilla latte please and a -“ You looked expectantly at Loki.
“Another one.”
You got your purse out to pay when Loki swiped his card agains the machine.
“Oh…thanks.”
Loki raised an eyebrow cooly,
“You said you were low on funds.”
“Er, yeah.”
After getting your drinks you managed to find a table to sit down on.
You stared at Loki in anticipation, watching him as he took his first sip.
“Well?” You asked, strangely nervous.
He took a dramatic pause before answering, definitely doing it on purpose to goad you.
“It’s not…terrible.”
“Woo!” You let out a squeal to which Loki stared at you disapprovingly.
Taking your own first sip you sighed happily.
“I’ve missed you coffee!”
“You’re very dramatic about coffee.”
“Well you’re very dramatic about literally everything.”
Loki sniffed. “I am not.”
“You really are. You could win an Oscar.”
“I do enjoy winning things.” He said, proud of himself.
“Okay.” You rolled your eyes. “What books did you get?”
“Hm. I need to improve my Midgardian knowledge it seems so I picked up books on human physiology and theology, as well as this abridged guide to quantum theory.” He snapped his fingers and a huge book that must have been as thick as your head appeared on the table.
“Jesus I’d hate to see the unabridged version.”
“Speaking of human physiology, how is your…affliction?”
You took another sip. “Hm? What affliction?”
“You know…” He eyed you cautiously.
You snorted coffee out your nose.
“My period?” You hiccuped.
Loki gave you a look of distaste as he passed you a napkin.
“Indeed.”
“Do we… let’s actually not talk about that.”
Loki sighed.
“Very well. I thought friends were supposed to talk to each other about intimate things. What do you wish to talk about?”
“Yeah but, you know. You are a 20 million year old alien male, it’s not… well…. some intimate things don’t have to be talked about. It’s not the done thing.”
“Once again you have no concept of my age. Why does me being a male change anything?”
“Well because… I don’t know really it’s just sort of something woman talk about between themselves, most men don’t want to know I guess.”
“Why would they not want to know?” He asked.
“Erm, I guess…well I don’t know really.”
“I could turn into a woman if it would make you feel more comfortable.” He took a sip of his drink smugly.
You eyed him suspiciously, unsure if he was joking.
“Not right now, that might attract some unwanted attention. Remind me to ask you to do that later though. Or perhaps a horse.”
You expected this to trip him up slightly, one of your current favourite activities but he merely blinked.
“As you wish.”
“God, can we just talk about something normal for once.”
“Like who you are running off to meet?”
“Er, well no, not that…”
Speak of the devil… your phone, laying on the table, buzzed and flashed up with Olivers name. Before you had change to grab it, Loki reached across the table and snatched it up with lightning speed.
“Wh…hey!”
“Whose Oliver?”
You grabbed your phone back.
“We met him yesterday, jeez your memory is bad. And don’t take my phone.”
“I have no recollection of meeting a mortal of that name yesterday.”
“Er, sure he was in the lab with Stark.”
You checked his message.
Oliver: Still okay to meet? Shall I come to Stark Towers?
“Oh.. you mean the moronic head-of-starks-fanclub boy.”
“What did Oliver ever do to you. He seems nice actually and he messaged me asking to meet up.”
“Ah, so you are running off to meet another boy.”
You snorted, “another boy, please that sounds as if we are on a…never mind. Unlike you, Oliver actually wants to spend time with me.”
Loki leaned back in his chair and looked at you with an odd look on his face.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?”
You shot him an exasperated look. “Only because I am the only reason you can leave the tower. Be honest Loki, would you really have come out to a bookstore with me if you weren’t under strict instruction to not go out alone?”
Loki shifted and blinked,
“Well I…”
“Exactly. It’s fine I’m not upset but I’m allowed to meet up with people who actually enjoy my company, not just tolerate it.”
You quickly replied back to Oliver to tell him he could meet you outside the towers.
“Your company is not always… intolerable.”
“Careful now, that was almost a complement.”
You sighed and looked around you. Once again, no one had noticed that a dangerous war criminal was sat, relaxing in Starbucks like it was the most normal thing in the world. It felt nice though, to be amongst…normal people going about their every day business, complete unaware that their lives were potentially at stake and you were somehow tasked with ensuring that didn’t happen. God you wished you were just as ignorant, there was no way you fit in with the gods and superheroes you were currently keeping company.
“Are we prepared for the trip?” You asked him.
Loki nodded. “I believe Volstagg and Fandral will also be accompanying us.”
Your eyes lit up,
“Aw nice!”
Loki shot you a dark look.
“No, not nice. It is highly irritating.”
“Well, the more people we have the better, no?”
Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.
You let yourself people watch for a bit longer, watching as a guy ate a sandwich and completely missed his mouth as he read a newspaper.
“He’s a simpleton.”
You chuckled as the guy looked round in embarrassment, “yeah.”
“Then why are you meeting up with him?
“What?” You snapped your attention back to Loki.
“The boy.”
“Oh…well actually Oliver is super clever he went to Harvard and got an internship with Stark while he was studying.”
“Please, Midgardian education is nothing compared to the far superior Asgardian education. He wouldn’t have even met the entrance criteria.”
“Isn’t Asgard kind of backwards when it comes to things like that though? Seems like there’s kind of a harsh class difference, you know, gods vs the rest of Asgard?”
“Do not pretend Earth is any better.” He scowled.
“No, but I’m just saying, maybe Oliver couldn’t have gotten into the schools you went to but wouldn’t that have been because of his states rather than his brains? Also you age so much slower than we do so you have more time to learn things which is kind of an unfair advantage.”
You took a slurp of your coffee.
“You certainly seem to be quite enamoured.” Loki stated, cooly and guarded.
You blushed in spite of yourself.
“I…I am not…enamoured.”
It’s true you were up quite late texting him before Loki got irritated and said the light was disrupting his abilities to sleep and banished your phone to the shadow realm or something.
Loki stood suddenly.
“Going somewhere?” You asked surprised.
“If we are going to head back for you to be on time for your rendezvous we should return mortal.”
“Oh.” You checked the time, he was right.
He strode off out of Starbucks and as you attempted to catch up, you wondered if he was annoyed you were ditching him for someone else.
The walk back seemed to be feeling awkward and you felt bad for abandoning him. Which is probably what prompted you to say the following:
“You could come with me and Oliver if you wanted? This afternoon?”
Loki looked at you as if you had suggested he ran around Stark Towers naked doing the cha cha slide.
“Or not…just a suggestion.”
“Why in the realms would I want to do that mortal?”
“Well I just wondered if you were maybe a bit bored at the towers and would prefer to hang out with some different people for a change.”
“I would not prefer to hang out with you and that midgardian.”
“Jeez I take back my invitation.”
It was quiet between you again.
Aw man this sucks. You felt a strong sense of guilt for some reason and was that…a feeling of sadness? Where you…sad that you weren’t spending the rest of the day with Loki? It had been kind of fun spending the morning with him, even with his complete lack of knowledge around what counts as an appropriate conversation.
You snuck a glance up at him as you walked, laughing inwardly at his outright questions surrounding your menstrual cycle earlier. He looked kind of annoyed, but then again, you mused, his usual facial expression was kind of “mildly irritated” so it was difficult to tell. Loki had the worst case of resting bitch face you had seen.
As you got closer to the Towers, you spotted Oliver waiting for you. You smiled and waved at him as he walked over.
“Hi” He grinned.
You awkwardly looked at each other, both wondering if you should go in for a hug or not.
“You look nice! I like the more modern look today” He said cheerily.
“Aw thanks!”
You could almost feel Loki rolling his eyes behind you.
“Norns above this is sickening. No need to lie mortal boy she looks the same as usual.”
“Are you going to stay here and be rude all afternoon or do you have somewhere else to be?” You shot at him.
“I have far more important things to do than stand and talk to midgardians.” He sneered.
“Well why don’t you go do them then.”
“Well, I will.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Goodbye.” You spat.
You turned to face Oliver who looked slightly unsure at the interaction he had just witnessed.
“Shall we?” You asked rather briskly and strode off in whatever the opposite direction of Loki was.
Notes: Let me know what you though! Not sure how many are still out here lol but I hope you enjoyed! Loki is a master of hot and cold!
Tag list:
@creationsbyme @kikster606 @slytherinintj13 @th0rswh0res @huntress-artemiss @jannieka394 @stefffrs @misswimberly @thedistractedagglomeration @yoongissidebitchh @purplekitten30 @mischief2sarawr @johnmurphys-sass
@ionadane @imalovernotahater @lokisgoodgirl @lalicexo eee @dlwrish
#loki odinson#loki#loki god of mischief#loki x you#loki x reader#loki smut#loki x ofc#loki of asgard#loki x oc#loki x y/n#loki marvel#tom hiddleston#loki fanfic#loki laufyson#loki fluff#god of mischief#mcu loki#loki friggason#loki fandom#loki x reader insert#loki x female reader#loki fanfiction
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October 29: Texas Chain Saw Massacre
I just finished watching The Texas Chain Saw Massacre for the first time. I’ve long been afraid to watch this movie because I thought it would be too gory, but I decided that it would probably be fine given when it was made. Plus it’s such an iconic piece of horror, I felt compelled.
It was not too gory for me and I am glad I saw it. But it was easily one of the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, if not the scariest. It had the Classic Horror touches of Halloween (they legit do not make them this way anymore) and the constant dread and uneasiness of Blair Witch, but much stronger. A constant, visceral wrongness. I still feel it. I feel very wrong right now.
I did like the first half more than the second, and I did think the second part dragged a little but tbh that might just have been me reaching my personal uneasiness and/or terror limits. That dinner scene felt like I was losing my mind in real time. The extended maniacal laughter, the close ups on Sally’s eyes, the sudden shifts in the family’s moods, the unpredictability of their torture. I mean it was a sort of torture in and of itself. And for her to get away so suddenly and jump out a window into daylight really fucked me up. Time has no meaning in that house.
The first half felt very witch-y to me, though. I don’t know if I was supposed to get Witch Rituals or just the Radomness of Insanity but it read to me like a purposeful ritual. The part with the Hitchhiker is really what I’m referring to here: the taking of the picture, the burning of the picture, the shedding of blood, the marking of the van. The horoscopes. “Everything means something.” Franklin cutting the van without knowing why he’s doing it, and the way he seems to be connected to the Leatherface family even before he’s targeted by the Hitchhiker. Then when they first see the house, the random objects hung to the tree, the bones literally everywhere inside. I mean I get it, they’re cannibals, but to me it still read like talismans and spells.
Franklin just felt like he was being set up as the main character but then he was killed so suddenly... Sort of a Psycho-like misdirection, except he was killed halfway through, and then Sally, who has no real personality, is the main character for the second half. I found it jarring but mostly I just kinda liked Franklin? Lol. It was sort of like two different movies: a slowly creeping horror around Franklin and then a traditional Final Girl slasher around Sally.
The whole thing was just so expertly made, so expertly horrific. Relentless terrifying. Every single scene, details, moment, is scary. After watching, I watched the trailer for the 2022 version/sequel on Netflix, out of curiosity, and in 2 minutes I saw an overarching plot, family/friendship relationships, a badass woman with weapons, and humor. In the original Texas Chain Saw, it’s horror, horror, horror.
Everything is disconcerting, viscerally wrong, sickening. It takes its time with the moments of terror but also has moments of sudden and out of nowhere violence, so you can never tell what’s going to happen, what you’re going to be stuck in: moments where things are mostly normal but slightly off, or terrifying horror landscapes--or if the place you are will be suddenly shot through with violence.
Okay, I am still shaken. I need to think about other things. Fluffy things perhaps.
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evidence pile of ‘people in sehhinah have a huge culture of ‘disseminating information freely but phrased in a way so bland, twee, dulled, process-free, or un-weird that it’s functionally misinformation’’:
the juxtaposition where lucifer describes the visceral horror (to them) of of existing as an angel with g-d’s soulfire stabbed through them, and of ripping themself apart to get it out, in one chapter. the next chapter’s header is a cutesy kids’ book quote going ‘did you know? angels who don’t want to be angels can take off their wings!’
eliya describing her layperson understanding of theurgy in the most offensively missing the point manner possible, and holies in a manner equally offensive and even more minimizing
eliya finding the informational books on theurgy she found extremely uninspiring, and another chapter quote from one of these books being very vapid and twee, but in a more adult way than the kids’ book, more like new-age-y self-help schlock
in a slightly more clinical/advanced tone, yenatru’s book by israfil describing the difference between angels and fallen angels in the most process-free way possible, to the extent that it’s misinfo than the kids’ as far as lucifer’s experience / yenatru’s revelation at them explaining their experience to him is concerned
tamar being so jarred by the first holy she actually saw that, despite having a basic knowledge of the mechanics, her memory goes to an old idiom (a children’s-spooky-story-feeling one honestly!) from primary school to describe it
safirah explicitly complaining to tamar about there not being any books about holies that give an accurate impression of what it is
various other chapter header quotes just having a manner of explaining things that’s technically correct but stripped of all wonder (juxtaposed with the characters’ povs in the text of the book, and with a few more esoteric chapter header quotes)
uh i might add to this if more comes to mind...
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Soft in Love Part 6
A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader
Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.
Word Count: 3.1k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @benders-diamond-earring, @im-an-adult-ish, @anincurablefangirl, @kiainspace, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @god-save-the-deaks, @assembledherethevolunteers, @misslolasworld, @not-john-watsons-blog, @spacedustmazzello, @theindiealto, @riddikuluslypotter, @depressedbitchxox, @tenement-funstah, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @sarablog10, @johndeaconshands, @coincidence-ithinknots-blog, @simonedk
If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this update! Our boy Joe makes an appearance so that’s exciting!
Warning(s): Lizzie and Darcy level pining. Shit is serious.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Part 6 here we go!!!
Several emotions hit Gwilym all at once. Shock at seeing Andrew kiss you. Relief at you pushing him away. Hurt that such an opportunity had presented itself to Andrew. And a fierce desire to protect you from something you didn’t want. He pushed all of it down and tried to collect himself because the most prevalent feeling that was standing over all the others was jealousy. Extreme jealousy that Andrew had taken you in his arms and embraced you like that.
Your mouth hung open in horror as you looked between Gwilym and Andrew. You couldn’t read the former’s face. Was he angry at you? Should it matter if he was?
“I’m sorry,” Gwilym said, clearing his throat. “It appears I’ve interrupted something.”
“You haven’t,” you said, while at the same time, Andrew said, “You did.”
You shot your friend a glare before looking back at Gwilym.
“You didn’t,” you said firmly. “That was nothing.”
“Nothing, huh?” Andrew challenged. “Seriously, Y/N?”
“You didn’t even give me time to answer you before you kissed me!” you cried, facing Andrew again. “If you had, this very awkward situation wouldn’t be happening because I would have told you it’s not like that!”
“I’ll excuse you,” Gwilym said.
He opened the door and went through it before you could stop him. You glowered at Andrew, who rolled his eyes.
“What?” he snapped. “Afraid I ruined your chances?”
“No!” you shouted. “I’m angry because you kissed me before you even bothered to hear me! Do you think your feelings are all that matter? That I’d just fall into your arms after you confessed how you felt?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again, searching for an answer.
“Here’s a tip for the next girl,” you said. “Make sure she wants to kiss you before just going in.”
“Why don’t you feel that way?” he asked. “Because of Gwilym?”
“No!” you said, wanting to scream with frustration. “It’s never been that way between us, even before Dan or anyone else came into the picture! I have only ever wanted to be your friend! Is that not enough for you?!”
He hesitated, and it appeared guilt came over him at your words. His silence worried you.
“Is that not enough for you, Andrew?” you pressed. “Or do you really only see me as a potential girlfriend?”
Still, he didn’t answer. Fear tugged at your heart.
“Andrew, please!”
“I...I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “But while I feel this way about you, it’s probably better if we don’t hang out.”
“What?” you gasped. “That’s it? Are you ser-”
“Not forever,” he said, cutting you off. “I just...I’m gonna need some time. It’s gonna be hard enough with the show and loving you on stage.”
“I’m sorry, Andrew,” you said. “I’m really sorry I can’t get there.”
“It’s fine,” he replied with a heavy sigh that told you the opposite. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna head home for break early. I think Gwilym will understand.”
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
“Yeah, I think he will,” you choked out.
Andrew shared one last look at you and then left without another word, exiting near the stage. You took a deep, shuddering breath. So much was going through you. Anger at Andrew, sadness that your friendship was affected, and worry about what Gwilym was thinking.
“Gwilym!” you gasped, and ran back up the aisle to where he had left.
A thousand things were running through Gwilym’s mind. He was relieved to hear you reject Andrew, but he realized that he shouldn’t be. It was perfectly normal for you to date the guys in your class. Sensible, even. But why did it kill him to imagine it? His visceral reaction to seeing Andrew’s hands and mouth on you concerned him.
“Get a grip,” he scolded himself. “She’s not yours. Nor should she be.”
Then you burst through the door and he forgot everything but you.
You came through the door and saw him pacing, forefinger to his chin, and eyes narrowed. His head whipped around when he heard the door open and you locked eyes. He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and strode quickly over to you. Then, he gathered you up in his arms.
You let out a soft gasp, but quickly relaxed into him, burying your face in his chest. His hand came to rest on the back of your head. That familiar warm smell overwhelmed you. Being in his arms was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You were stronger there than anywhere else. Your arms slid around his waist and you held on tighter.
“Alright?” he murmured into your hair.
You nodded.
“I’m perfect right here,” you whispered.
You stood there, in that beautiful hug, for minutes that felt like years. Just you and Gwilym and no one else. There was nothing suggestive about the hug. It was just true, genuine comfort. A display of caring affection.
“Nothing happened, I promise,” you said, bringing you both back to the present moment.
He pulled back only slightly and met your eyes again.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Y/N,” he said.
“I know, but I want you to understand,” you said. “I meant what I said yesterday, there’s nothing between me and Andrew.”
Andrew was right. Silly as it was, you had feared for a moment that your chances with Gwilym were ruined. You thought he would assume you preferred someone in your class, especially your good friend. But your heart belonged to Gwilym. Nothing made it clearer than this moment.
“We should go in,” he said. “The rest of the class will be here soon.”
“Andrew went home,” you told him.
“I understand,” he replied. “We’ll do scenes without him today.”
You nodded. Then, taking his hand, you followed him into the auditorium.
Rehearsal went smoothly, and you were at ease again. Things with Andrew would mend. In the meantime, you and Gwilym could continue on just as you had been.
That night, Sloan called you as she was driving home to New Jersey for the break. She was affronted that you hadn’t told her about Andrew’s confession during class. Apparently, she had only found out at all from Andrew.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t want to gossip about him if he didn’t want you to know. He was really vulnerable.”
“I’m both of you guys’ best friend!” she insisted. “I should know all things.”
You chuckled.
“That’s fair.”
“Okay, now tell me your side of the story,” she said.
You launched into it, holding nothing back. What Andrew said, what you said, how you felt about it, everything.
“And then Gwilym walked in as he kissed me!” you finished.
“Oh, weird!” she gasped. “Was it awkward?”
“Awkward as fuck,” you confirmed. “But, it didn’t last long.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
You were kicking yourself. You couldn’t tell her about the moment afterward because it felt too personal. Also, you were certain she would think it was stupid. But you had felt what Gwilym felt for you through his arms. You were sure of it.
“Well, he left, then Andrew and I finished up,” you said.
You explained that he wanted a break from you.
“I’m sorry if that puts you in an awkward position,” you said.
“It’ll be fine,” she returned. “I can see you at school and him at home. And we’ll all be together in rehearsal anyway.”
“That’s true,” you said.
“Anything else?” she asked. “Did Gwilym ask you about what happened?”
You froze, unsure how to answer her. You didn’t want to lie, but for you and Gwilym’s protection, you would have to.
“No,” you said. “It’s not like it was his business, y’know?”
“True,” she agreed. “Well, traffic is literal ass and I’ve almost been hit like four times during just this phone call.”
You giggled. “Understood. You focus and text me when you get home.”
“Roger,” she said. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you returned.
You hung up. Gazing at the phone, you wondered if you should have just told her. She was your best friend after all. You could trust her. But, there was the fear of anyone finding out. Not that there was anything to really find out. You and Gwilym were not in a relationship. But you felt strongly for each other. You could not have imagined that.
Gwilym got a call from Joe that night, inviting him out for dinner. He agreed, and they met at a spot that was a favorite of Joe’s. They hugged excitedly upon their reunion before going inside and getting a table.
“It’s wonderful to see you, mate,” Gwilym said as they ordered some beers.
“You too!” Joe returned. “I can’t believe you’ve been in New York this long and we haven’t gotten together.”
“I know, it’s ridiculous,” Gwilym agreed. “How are you?”
Joe started talking about a new project he was doing that was filming here in New York for a while. It worked out because he got to be home with his family.
“I mean, the schedule is still crazy, of course, but it’s more time than I usually get with the kiddos,” he finished. “How are you? What’s it like teaching?”
Gwilym hesitated before answering.
“It’s, uh...it’s pretty great,” he said. “We’re doing Meet Me in St. Louis for the capstone class I have, and that’s exciting.”
“Sweet,” said Joe. “Got any hot students?”
Gwilym choked on the sip of beer he was taking. He coughed as Joe raised an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, I was just kidding, but now I’m worried,” he said, clapping Gwilym on the back.
“Why should you be worried?” Gwilym wheezed, clearing his throat some more as he recovered.
“Don’t lie to me, dude,” Joe said. “Are you seriously fucking one of your students?”
“No!” Gwilym said loudly, his voice back. He lowered his volume. “And keep it down.”
“Shouldn’t have to if you’ve got nothing to hide,” Joe returned.
“Okay,” Gwilym conceded with a sigh. “There is a student I am close to.”
Joe opened his mouth but Gwilym silenced him with a sharp look.
“Nothing has happened, nor will it,” he went on. “But the feelings...are there. She’s incredibly smart and talented and funny.”
“Pretty?” Joe asked.
“Beautiful,” Gwilym said. “I know it’s wrong, but we’ve really connected, and I dunno...I…”
“You in love with her?” Joe wondered.
Gwilym’s cheeks went pink. “God, I don’t know! I only met her a few weeks ago!”
“Tell me what has happened between you.”
Gwilym went into the story. He told Joe everything, from your first meeting, to the party, to the minutes before class, all the way through that afternoon when he’d hugged you and felt like the world had suddenly fallen into place.
“Sounds like love to me,” Joe said. “Or damn close to it.”
“Don’t tell me you’re encouraging this,” Gwilym said.
“Oh, fuck no, not even a little bit,” Joe returned. “It’s a terrible idea to pursue a student. But I think it’s not just sex you want from her, so that’s good. And when you’re not her teacher anymore, maybe it could work.”
“I don’t know,” Gwilym argued. “She’s still so much younger than me and our lives are in different places. She wants to go to LA, I’m going back to London...”
“Gwil, if you care about this girl, those things won’t matter,” Joe said. “What matters right now is setting a firm boundary until the opportunity is right. And you can tell her it’s mostly for her. She stands to lose a lot more than you.”
That was true. It was why Gwilym was so worried about the whole thing. He finished dinner with Joe, and as he went to bed, his mind wandered to you and what steps he should take next.
The break went by agonizingly slowly in your opinion. The school week would resume on Tuesday, and you couldn’t wait to see Gwilym again. Just the prospect, the idea of being in the same room as him made your heart flutter.
Tuesday morning, you got an email from Gwilym. It was sent to all the class and said that he was giving them extra time to get back, and only wanted you and Andrew for rehearsal, so you two could focus on your scenes. You thought it might be a bit awkward to just be with the two of them again, but there was no getting out of it for you.
Then you got a text from Andrew. Pushing down your shock, you opened it.
Hey, not feeling great. Just have Gwilym read for me today.
You hated to admit it, but a whole class period of just you and Gwilym was everything you could hope for. You thought about how to answer Andrew.
Still drunk? Lol
You sent it. He replied just as quickly.
I’ve got a fever asshole lmao
You smiled. Okay. Things could get back on track. You texted back a thumbs up emoji and then got ready for class. Your heart thundered with excitement with each step.
Gwilym, on the other hand, was mulling over what Joe said. He’d spent the break wondering if he should talk to you and firmly put an end to...whatever it was between you. Fond as he was of you, this wasn’t right. He could not let you risk your college career. And he didn’t want to lead you on, either. It was going to be difficult. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he would if it meant protecting you.
He waited in the auditorium, drumming his fingers against his clipboard. You arrived early, just as you did every day. And you looked stunning, just as you did every day. His chest tightened.
“Morning!” you said brightly. “Andrew’s sick, so it’s just me. Can you take his place?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get started.”
Your brow furrowed. Something was off about him. He was hardly looking at you and seemed closed off.
“I thought we’d focus on Over the Bannister,” he said. “Luckily for Andrew, that’s mostly your scene anyway.”
That was more like the Gwilym you knew. Still, something was bothering him.
“Okay,” you agreed. “Where should we start from?”
“Right after Rose goes upstairs,” he said.
You got into position on stage and waited for him to join you.
“Let’s begin,” he said.
Clearing his throat again, he got into character.
“Well, I guess I better get going,” he started, shaking your hand.
“You haven’t very far to go,” you replied softly, as Esther.
“No, I haven’t at that,” he returned. “Well, good night.”
He turned to go and you followed him.
“We’ll be seeing more of you won’t we?” you asked desperately, taking his hand again.
“You bet,” he answered.
“You’ll be joining the crowd Friday when we go to the fairgrounds, won’t you?”
You went back and forth with him this way until he had fully walked off stage.
“Mr. Truitt?” you called.
He stepped back.
“Yes, Miss Esther?”
“This is an untoward request, but would you mind accompanying me through the house while I turn out the lights?” you said.
“Well, I -”
“It’s just that I - I’m afraid of mice,” you said timidly
“Oh,” he said. “Oh, well, sure. Uh, that’s the least a man can do for his charming hostess.”
You giggled and looked at the floor with humility.
“I have to turn them out everywhere - in the dining room, in the living room, and everywhere.”
You turned and looked at him and then he followed you around the stage as you started turning down the “lights.” He had his arm around you to reach up and turn one off and you bit your lip. The contact was so welcome. You wanted to hug him again. Now, you were grateful that this was very in character at the moment.
“It certainly is dark in here with the lights off,” you said with a shrug.
“It is,” he returned. “Shall we do the dining room next?”
“Yes,” you said.
Together you moved to the next part of the stage to do the same thing. You started to hum “The Boy Next Door,” and he looked so fondly at you, you stopped breathing. You cleared your throat and moved on with the scene. Finally, you made it back to the staircase, much more red in the face than you had begun.
You were halfway up the stairs, looking down at Gwilym warmly. He gazed back with a soft smile.
“Gosh, Miss Esther,” he said. “I - I hope I’m not too presumptuous. You don’t need any beauty sleep.”
He rested his arm on the banister railing and you beamed.
“What a nice compliment,” you replied.
“How does it go?” he said.
“How does what go?” you wondered.
“Over the banister, leans a face,” he said. “Tenderly sweet, and...and…”
You began to sing. Gwilym had decided you should do this song acapella, to reflect the vulnerability of the moment.
“Beguiling
While below her with tender grace
He watches the picture, smiling”
Gwilym could hardly stand it as he watched you. Your voice, your face, your heart. They were all so beautiful. He had you here, all to himself too.
“A light burns dim in the hall below
Nobody sees them standing”
Against the script, Gwilym started climbing the stairs, a strange, determined look on his face. He reached you as you as you sang.
“Saying goodnight again
Soft in love”
The last note faltered. You were so close now. The air between you was charged, electric. Your eyes were fixed on his, which burned as they consumed you. He leaned in. He was going to kiss you, you were sure of it.
“Y/N,” he said lowly. “The lyric is ‘soft and low.’”
“Is it?” you breathed back. “My mistake.”
His face was inches from yours. He was finally going to kiss you. The distance was closing. Your eyes began to fall shut. You felt his lips barely a centimeter from yours. Just a bit further, more contact, and then -
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, backing away.
You opened your eyes and looked at him.
“W-what?” you wondered, heart rate picking up.
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do this to you, Y/N. I’m sorry.”
You watched, frozen with shock, as he jogged down the stairs, grabbed his things from the stage, and walked out of the auditorium. You sat down on the fake stairs, numb and alone.
#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee imagine#gwilym lee x you#BoRhap#BoRhap cast#borhap boys#borhap imagine#borhap cast imagine#borhap cast x reader#borhap boys imagine#borhap boys x reader#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody imagine#Queen#Brian May#brian may x reader#brian may imagine#brian may x you#soft in love series
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living in the real world (ain’t it fun) CHAPTER 2
*rolls up six months late with starbucks* PLEASE ENJOY THIS UPDATE I LOVE YOU ALL
WORD COUNT: ~3569
TW: anxiety attacks, arguing, brief mentions of physical injury
also available on ao3! the link will be the first thing in the notes since tumblr is glitching out rn
“So, let me get this straight.”
“Impossible. We’re not straight.”
Thomas blinks at Roman. “You – all of you are gay?”
“Thomas, we’re pieces of you. We have the exact same . . . romantic tendencies as you,” Logan explains. For how explosive he seems to be wherever Roman is concerned, Logan has been incredibly patient with Thomas. All three of them have, even though they’re clearly exactly as stressed-out and uncomfortable as he is.
“Okay, so, rephrase: let me get this gay then. You three –” Thomas makes a weird gesture that he hopes encapsulates the sentiment of “whatever-the-fuck-is-going-on-right-here”. Logan raises an eyebrow, Roman tilts his head in confusion, and Patton just smiles.
“You’re all different elements of my personality, given a form and an independent consciousness.”
“Indeed!” Roman exclaims.
“Okay, but . . . I have so many questions.”
“Which is to be expected. We promise to answer them to the best of our abilities, Thomas,” Logan reassures. Thomas looks at him again, eyes wide and earnest behind his glasses.
“Are there any more of you?”
Logan starts to respond, but Roman cuts him off with a flippant hand gesture. “Well, I certainly hope not!” Thomas feels an uneasy anger build in his chest, and it confuses him.
“What Roman means, kiddo, is that no, we’re not the only sides of your personality that exist in that head of yours!” Patton laughs. “But for the time being, we do appear to be the only ones who’ve manifested in the real world.”
“And that is a good thing, Thomas, believe me! We three are the core aspects of your personality – we are the most important ones. The others are . . . unsavory, to say the least.”
“What . . . what are you talking about?”
Roman lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re the dark sides, Thomas!”
Logan rolls his eyes. “What Roman is trying to say, despite his penchant for unnecessary theatrics, is that the other aspects of your personality are often problematic. All of us act in the way that we think is best for you, but their methods are . . . unorthodox, to put it mildly, and often tend to disrupt your daily life.”
“They mess everything up! Especially Anxiety,” Roman says, and the sheer derisive disgust with which he says anxiety sends a terrified shiver down Thomas’s spine. “That asshole never lets me do anything! That’s the whole reason that our evening last night was cut short – because he–”
“Language, Roman,” Patton says. “And be a little nicer to him! He just wants to protect Thomas.”
“From what, living his life? Honestly, I’m glad he’s not here. I hate dealing with him.”
Thomas feels the weird ball of anger in his chest melt instantly. It’s replaced with a cold, quiet feeling that he can’t really identify, but it makes him feel uncomfortable and out of place in his own house. He doesn’t like that feeling, and rather than dwelling on it, he focuses on Logan.
“I’m sure that you have more questions,” Logan prompts gently. “I would be happy to answer them.”
Thomas’s next question is significantly lacking in any sort of tact, but he can’t help blurting it out. “How come they’re adults and you’re not?”
Logan’s face contorts into a pained grimace. Thomas half-expects the little throbbing angry-vein thing that shows up in B-roll anime to appear on his temple. “Contrary to my physical appearance,” he grinds out, gritting his teeth, “I am twenty-nine years of age, just like you.”
“But you look like I did when I was in high school.”
“I . . . am aware.”
“I’m so confused.”
“Well, maybe it has something to do with when you first started needing us,” Patton muses.
“I didn’t even know you existed until thirty minutes ago!”
“Not consciously, but we’ve been in your head the whole time! I’ve been around since the very beginning – even little babies have emotions, right?”
“Y-yeah, I – I guess that makes sense.”
“I first took hold when you were a preschooler,” Roman explains. It’s weird to Thomas to hear his voice coming from Roman – it’s weird from all of them, but Roman is doing some kind of accent thing that’s making it very difficult to focus on the words coming out of his mouth. “You were very imaginative as a child, Thomas! I had a lot of control back then!”
He glares at Logan. “Then the Microsoft Nerd here showed up, and I got kicked out of my spot!”
“Falsehood,” Logan counters. “Even before I had form, I was there within Thomas to an extent. It is not as though I just materialized one day.”
“Oh, but it is! I woke up one morning and there you were, standing there with your glasses and your necktie and your holier-than-thou-I’m-always-right attitude and –”
“That’s rich, coming from you, you self-besotted, stuck up, head-in-the-clouds –”
Thomas feels a familiar headache building behind his eyes, pressing at them like they’re going to pop out of his sockets and roll across the floor, hammering at his forehead and temples like the bone is going to shatter and let all of the turmoil inside him come spilling out into the real world.
As he watches Logan and Roman get increasingly agitated, he considers the possibility that it already has.
“Kiddos, it’s time to stop now,” Patton says, but neither one of them can hear him. the headache worsens. Thomas drops his head into his hands. There’s a strange feeling building up in his chest – not anger, but exasperation, covering something desperate and needy that’s begging everyone to stop stop stop stopstopstopstop –
“Stop it!” Thomas snaps, shoving the heels of his palms into his eyes so hard he sees phosphenes dance across the resounding darkness. “Stop fighting, stop yelling, just stop it!”
And they do.
Thomas lifts his head from his hands, startled by the sudden silence, to see Roman and Logan, staring at each other, still angry but silent. Both of their mouths are open, like they were in the middle of saying something, but neither one is making a single sound.
“I . . . did not expect that to work.”
Logan shuts his mouth (although it looks painful, like he has to force it) and turns away from Roman. “Apologies, Thomas,” he says quietly. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, but . . . geez, my head is killing me,” he groans. Patton worriedly presses a hand to Thomas’s forehead, like he’s checking for a fever or something. His hands are soft and surprisingly warm.
“A headache will not be identified or cured like that, Patton,” Logan says.
“Like we need that information right now,” Roman mutters. Logan glares at him. Roman moves his hand like he’s going to flip Logan off, catches the expression on Patton’s face, and reconsiders.
“Guys, I’m okay, really, I just . . . my head,” Thomas says. “It . . . it hurts. Do you two always fight like that?”
“We get into the occasional argument,” Logan says with a noncommittal shrug.
“Occasional?” Roman laughs. “We have more arguments than there are days in a year, pocket protector!” Logan bristles at the nickname, snatching a decorative pillow off the bed and hurling it at Roman. The pillow falls onto the ground, neatly halved, as Roman brandishes a sword at Logan. It’s long and shiny and silver, and it looks kind of like a katana. Logan yelps and scrambles backwards.
Thomas feels an unfamiliar panic spike through his whole system. He wants to curl into a ball and hide, even though he doesn’t really think Roman will stab him. He doesn’t really think Roman will stab Logan, either, for that matter. Still, he feels as though he is going to die – even if Roman doesn’t stab him, the terror welling in his chest will crush his heart to dust.
“Roman, what the fuck?”
“Language!” Patton snaps. “And Roman, kiddo, put the sword away!”
Roman wiggles the sword menacingly at Logan. “Roman, stop it!” Logan squeaks, voice cracking in the middle of his sentence. His face is pink, and Thomas winces a little, remembering the visceral embarrassment of his voice doing that in high school. Another spike of anxiety has him doubling over a little, curling slightly into the fetal position and clutching at his chest, right over his heart.
“Oh.”
“Kiddo, put the sword down!” Patton reiterates, standing between Logan and Roman with his arms spread out. “You can’t just stab Logan because he said something mean! And you can’t just say mean stuff, Logan!”
“I didn’t even say anything!” Logan protests, wincing as his voice breaks again. “The pillow couldn’t hurt him anyway!”
“Guys, please,” Thomas groans, and all three of them turn instantly. “Just – the sword, it – put it – I –”
He feels an inexplicable panic surging up in his chest, rapidly flooding all of his senses, constricting his breathing, causing little black spots to dance in his field of vision. Before he can properly focus on trying to stave off his impending panic attack, he feels it start to ebb all on its own.
It doesn’t get far.
Thomas can faintly feel his chest heaving in large, panicked breaths and faintly hear Patton trying to talk to him and faintly see Logan and Roman watching him with horror and concern smeared equally and identically across their faces, but he can’t focus on any external stimuli. The only thing that he can concentrate on is the strange tug-of-war of panic within his chest as he grows more anxious and then less anxious and then more anxious and then less anxious without any conscious input at all.
Gradually, the panic recedes far enough that he can feel warm hands on his face and hear Patton’s voice, which is shaky despite his calm tone. “Thomas, kiddo, you have to breathe. You’re okay, everything is okay – Roman put his sword away, see? Everything is okay. You just have to breathe, Thomas, can you do that for me? I know Logan was doing some counts for you earlier, do you need him to do those again? Can you hear me, Thomas?”
Thomas manages to lift his head and meet Patton’s eyes, which are exactly the same as his but somehow still wildly different. “There you are,” Patton says, and his tone would be patronizing coming from anyone else, but Thomas can’t process it as anything but comforting. “You’re gonna be just fine, Thomas, okay?”
He manages a stiff, shaky nod. “Good! That’s good. Do you want me to count the breathing exercise out for you again?” Thomas nods again. “Okay. I’m going to put my hand on your thigh, alright, Thomas? I’m going to put my hand on your thigh and I’m going to tap out the counts, and I want you to breathe with me. Here we go. Are you ready?”
It hurts, at first, following the breathing exercise. The panic has an icy vise grip around his heart, and his ribs ache every time his chest expands. He’s hyperventilating, he discovers, and apparently has been for a while now, because it’s difficult for him to get enough breath in his chest to make it past the first count of four. He notices Patton wincing when he tries to breathe, but he just keeps counting. “It’s okay, Thomas. Just keep trying, okay kiddo? In for four, here we go. One . . . two . . . three . . . it’s okay, we’ll try again, yeah?”
It takes ten minutes for Thomas to get enough breath to complete one cycle of the breathing exercise, but once he gets that first cycle complete it’s easy to keep going until he’s breathing normally again, uncurling his body and flexing his stiff muscles. “Sorry, he croaks, wincing at how shitty his voice sounds. “I’m – I don’t know what –”
“No harm done, kiddo!” Patton says brightly, if slightly strained. “As long as you’re okay now, right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Thomas looks at Logan and Roman. Roman’s sword is nowhere to be seen, but he looks absolutely distraught. “Roman, I –”
“I am so sorry, Thomas!” Roman wails. “I – I truly did not intend to cause you distress, especially not such a severe level! My sword is intended only to protect you, never to harm you! I – I’m so – I’m sorry, Thomas, I didn’t – I never meant to – I – I’m so sorry!”
Thomas is shocked, and more than a little concerned. “Roman, it’s – it’s okay. I’m not sure why I panicked either, it’s not like I actually believed you were gonna skewer me or whatever. You’re okay, I’m not mad. It’s okay, Roman.”
Roman sniffles, scrubbing at his eyes and smearing tears all over his face. Thomas wonders briefly if he looks this ugly when he cries. “Are you – are you sure? That was an intense panic I drove you into, and if I had known that would be the result I never would have –”
“Roman, I believe you.” Thomas stands up, stretching his legs out before crossing the room and opening his arms.
“What – what are you doing?”
“I’m hugging you. Come here, Roman.”
“Wh-why are you –”
“Roman, come here and let me hug you,” Thomas says. Roman shuffles into his arms stiffly, but the second Thomas’s arms settle around his waist and shoulder he relaxes, hugging him back tightly. Hugging Roman is drastically different from hugging Patton – Roman is broad and muscular, and he smells kind of like a weird amalgamation of every scent Thomas has every found to be particularly attractive. Even though Thomas is ostensibly comforting Roman, he can’t help but feel safe in his arms, as though nothing can touch him, as though he is protected from the world.
Roman’s arms are strong and warm, a heavy, comforting weight around him. “I’m sorry, Thomas,” Roman murmurs. “I would never harm you – and I would never harm Logan, either. Or Patton.”
“I believe you, Roman, don’t worry,” Thomas soothes.
Roman pulls away from the hug and turns back to Logan. “My . . . apologies, Logan. I suppose that what I did was . . . was not exactly the best course of action.”
“It is fine,” Logan says, only slightly stiffly. Roman opens his arms for a hug, but Logan takes a step backward and extends his hand. Roman stares at it for a moment before shaking it.
“Well, this has been a wonderful learning curve, but I need to eat food,” Thomas says. A thought occurs to him. “Do you guys . . . need to eat?”
“Need to eat? No, we don’t,” Logan says.
“But we like to!” Patton adds. “And I can cook pretty darn well!”
“I still do not know how that is possible, considering that Thomas’s cooking skills are . . .” Logan hesitates, like he doesn’t want to insult Thomas, before settling on, “mediocre at best.” He looks at Thomas quickly out of the corner of his eyes, like he’s worried that he’s insulted him.
Thomas shrugs. “I mean . . . fair, Logan.”
Patton nods excitedly. “I’ll make breakfast!” he says. “I can make scrambled eggs and pancakes and –” He keeps talking, listing off different breakfast foods, while Roman nods along in agreement and Logan quietly points out which options are infeasible. Thomas heads for the kitchen, figuring he should probably figure out what all he actually has in his fridge.
He makes it to the top of the stairs before realizing that he cannot go any further. He tries to take the first step down the staircase, but it’s as though he’s slammed into some kind of wall – he can’t actually move. “Um, guys?”
Patton steps into the hallway. “Yeah, kiddo?” The second that Patton’s foot crosses the threshold into the hallway, the hard barrier dissolves, and Thomas falls forward down the stairs. He hits another barrier before he gets very far, but then Patton is running down the hallway and the wall dissolves again and Thomas goes flying down the stairs.
He collapses into a tangled heap of limbs and bruises at the foot of the stairs. The breath is knocked clean out of his body, and it takes several seconds of gasping like a fish yanked out of water before he gets his breath back.
“Thomas!” There are gentle hands on his shoulder now, helping to unfold him and lay him out flat on his back. “Thomas, what happened? Did you trip? Did you hit your head, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Pat . . .” Thomas groans. He can still feel all his limbs, and he can feel his head – more accurately, he can feel the massive bruise forming on the back of it. “There . . . there was something that kept me from going down the stairs. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t move past it.”
“What? There wasn’t anything like that when I was on the stairs!”
Thomas can hear the pounding of footsteps on the stairs as Roman and Logan come running. “Patton, what happened to Thomas? Is he okay?”
“Of course he’s not okay, Roman, he fell down the stairs!”
Before either of them can come to blows again, Thomas sits up, holding his head. “I’m okay, guys. I need an ice pack, but I . . . I think I’m okay.”
“You should get tested for a concussion,” Logan says worriedly.
“Is it really that bad?” Roman demands.
“I don’t know! But if it is, Thomas needs to go to the hospital.” Logan crouches in front of Thomas, holding a finger up in front of his face. “Thomas, follow my finger with your eyes, okay?” He moves his index finger slowly back and forth, and Thomas dutifully flicks his gaze left and right after it.
“Good, Thomas, that’s good. Now, I am going to ask a series of questions to test your cognitive faculties. Answer them to the best of your ability. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“What is your first name?”
“Thomas.”
“What is your last name?”
“Sanders.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m in my house . . .”
“What is my name?”
“Logan.”
Logan pulls Thomas’s phone out of his pocket and shines the flashlight in his eyes. Thomas winces at the bright light in his eyes, but Logan seems satisfied. “Your pupils are dilating properly,” he hums. “I do not believe that you are concussed.”
“Wouldn’t we feel if Thomas was concussed?” Patton asks. “We felt when he went down the stairs.” This is when Thomas notices that Patton is rubbing the back of his head, exactly where Thomas can feel the throbbing pain of a bruise, and Logan is holding his left wrist as though is aches just like Thomas’s does, and Roman is wincing as he stretches his legs out.
“You guys felt that?”
“We didn’t know what was happening,” Patton says, “but we all felt a lot of pain in our arms and legs and head, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw that you had fallen down the stairs. I was concerned, sure, but not surprised.”
Thomas reaches over and pinches Logan’s forearm. He doesn’t pinch hard enough to hurt, but he pinches hard enough for Logan to jump and let out a startled yelp. And just as he’d suspected, Patton and Roman both jump and yelp as well. Thomas himself shivers, feeling a pinch on his left forearm exactly where he’d pinched Logan.
“Thomas!” Logan shrieks, scrambling away from him. “What was the purpose of that?”
“I felt that,” Thomas says.
“What?”
“When I pinched you, I felt my own arm pinch. In the exact same place, Logan.”
Logan’s face shifts from betrayed and pained to curious and eager in a heartbeat. “Really? So you would feel if I did this?” Without hesitation, he whirls around and socks Roman in the arm, a little harder than is perhaps strictly necessary. Roman shrieks and shoves Logan in retaliation; he falls onto his back with a soft thump.
“Yep!” Thomas wheezes. “Felt both of those!”
“Fascinating,” Logan muses, not even bothering to sit up. “Whatever you feel, we feel, and whatever we feel, you feel?”
“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t that be the case? You’re all parts of me, aren’t you?”
Logan starts muttering to himself, waving his hands absently in the air. Thomas sucks in a shaky breath as glowing blue lines appear in the wake of Logan’s fingers, forming themselves into words and numbers and weird, complicated-looking diagrams. “Uh . . . Logan?”
Logan, apparently, does not hear him. “Logan?” he repeats. Logan looks up, blinking at him through one of the diagrams hovering in the air.
“Yes, Thomas?”
“What . . . what are those?”
“What? Oh, these? They happen all the time. They’re a literal representation of your thought process.”
“I thought you were the literal representation of my thought process?!”
“No, I’m the literal representation of your ability to think. Confusing, I know, but different things nonetheless. They’re not strictly necessary, they just help me organize new information.”
Logan blushes. “Plus, I . . . think they look kind of cool.”
“Nerd,” Roman mutters, but there’s a teasing smile on his face. It doesn’t stop Logan from lightly punching him in the arm again, but the force of the blow is significantly lighter.
“So!” Patton grins, clapping his hands together. “Pancakes?”
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Choke Part 4
I hope you guys are happy with suffering bc that’s all you’re getting here. Also, the firstborn will be Blackbean and the second born will be Billbert
Shiro smiled at him, his eyes yellow and teeth jagged and sharp. His robotic hand was flared to life, the brightness of the purple light seemingly paired with the pain. Lance had the awful, horribly wrong feeling of his skin melting around Shiro’s hand, melting like iron heated in a forge, except this was flesh and muscle and he could feel the nerves exploding to life with each second. Shiro’s smile widened to an impossible size, his teeth so sharp, his eyes amused and yellow and inhuman. Lance could only taste blood and fear and bile, his neck collapsing in on itself from the pressure of Shiro’s arm, and as everything exploded and his vision darkened, panic was the only thing Lance could comprehend. He was dying. Lance was dying. No, no, no no n-
Lance bolted upright in his bed, pain flaring to life from the throbbing headache that he had carried with him out of the beating. The pain, however, mattered very little to Lance as pure, unbridled panic filled him and he ripped his blanket off him, the feeling of its once-comforting weight now suffocating.
“Lance! It’s just me. I- uh- Hunk was getting a rest. Lance? Lance are you okay?” Keith- that was Keith’s voice, even though Lance could only see his outline in the dim room. The fair amount of panic in Keith’s voice was amusing enough the terror that had filled Lance only moments previously began to dissipate.
“Y- yeah, I’m fine.” Lance whispered, and Keith heaved a sigh of relief. “Can… Can you turn the lights on?” Lance added, his voice somehow much quieter and more tentative than previously.
“Yeah of course. Let me just-” the lights flicked on as Keith trailed off, and for a moment Lance was blinded before his eyes adjusted. Keith stood awkwardly at the control panel for Lance’s room, sporting a black eye where Shiro had slammed his knee into the former Red Paladin’s face.
“I’m sorry.” Lance croaked, and Keith’s hand lifted to his eye for a moment before he shook his head.
“Don’t be sorry for this. That’s on Shiro. He did that.” Keith hissed, and Lance flinched at the name before looking away.
“Still. He did it because you were trying to protect me. I was stupid. I thought I could help him.” Lance whispered, eyes on the floor. He was too ashamed at his stupid, stupid fear of one man to look at Keith. Too ashamed of how he had been stupid enough to think he could help the Black Paladin after everything.
“Lance- look. You did. You helped him. Shiro- he was being controlled by Haggar. They’re trying to fix that now. But you broke the connection. You did that.” Keith said, and Lance shook his head.
“No I didn’t, Keith. Sh… He never really cared about me, Keith. I was just the Blue Paladin, and then I was just the stand-in for you.” Before Keith could interrupt him, Lance waved his hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true, Keith. That’s what he saw me as. And he didn’t give a single shit about me until I mentioned you. Hell, you coming down and facing him probably was the only thing that broke the connection.”
Keith shook his head. Lance watched the former Red Paladin pace around the room for a moment before stopping suddenly and coming to sit next to Lance.
“I was there Lance. I know what I saw. I know when the connection broke. It was when you showed him your sc- you know… Your neck.” Keith trailed off. It was almost funny, if it hadn’t been a visceral reminder of the scars that would forever ring his neck, and the ghost pain that was brought with it. Keith was sure of his point, he knew he was right, and Lance couldn’t deny what they had both seen, but… He also didn’t know how to talk about Lance’s scars, and the etiquette of talking about trauma with Lance.
Keith was basically Shiro’s brother, but Shiro… He dealt with trauma, with pain, much differently than Lance. Shiro repressed everything for the sake of his team. Lance knew this because the many times he woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares of battles and death previous to Shiro disappearing, he had almost always found Shiro downing a bottle of space vodka in some new and strangely secluded corner of the castle. It was during those brief moments Lance and Shiro would meet eyes, the fresh pain and horror in Shiro’s eyes enough to tell Lance exactly what Shiro was thinking of, that Lance would give Shiro whatever blanket he had grabbed from the lounge that night and then leave, because he knew Shiro wouldn’t talk to him, and he knew Shiro was already too drunk to remember those nights anyways.
Lance, on the other hand… Lance bled. Lance screamed and cried and bled from the pain and horror. Lance didn’t know how to cope. Lance would pass it off as jokes and laugh his suffering into a game if it meant helping someone else. Lance would rip his trauma out of whatever dark corner he hid it in if it meant healing another person. Lance valued every other person alive infinitely more than himself, so it was second nature to sacrifice his mental and physical health for them. Even if it meant death. Shiro repressed and Lance made his pain into a joke to be laughed at. That is, after all, what he viewed himself as.
Lance stared into nothing for a long time, his eyes telling of what he was thinking about. The scar. He had seen it once. He had seen the handprint that was branded onto his neck forever.
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Keith,” Lance finally said, “it’s a scar. A brand.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or that you do.” Keith replied, and Lance sighed. Silence filled the room, and Lance’s hands found his neck as he felt the bumps and indents tentatively.
“I can still feel it.” Lance said quietly, his voice almost loud in the silence. Keith looked at him in confusion for a moment, before realization- and horror- filled his eyes.
“I didn’t realize at first what it was. Just pain. But now I know. He melted through my skin, Keith. I can still feel his hand on my neck, the heat. It was so hot, I thought he’d melt through my esophagus. I can still-” He cut himself off as he noticed the horror in Keith’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“No. There’s nothing for you to apologize for. Nothing.” Keith urged, and Lance looked over at Keith in shock. “I’m sorry that happened. To you. It’s hard for me to imagine Shiro doing that because I… Well, I always saw him as my brother.”
“Keith… I… He’s still him. It wasn’t really.... Him who hurt me.” Lance began, his eyes falling to the floor. “I can’t… I know, logically, that it wasn’t him. It was Haggar. But to me, it was still him. It’s still his handprint branded onto my neck. It was his eyes- sorry… What I mean is even though it was him to me, that doesn’t mean it was him. Haggar was controlling him. And she was smart. She was damn smart, because she knew it would destroy the trust between us. But that doesn’t mean it has to destroy your trust. You still have a relationship with him. You can still trust him.”
“I want to. I want to trust him again. But… I saw what he did. I know it wasn’t Shiro, but… How am I supposed to trust him knowing he tried to kill you?” Keith finally asked, and Lance looked over at Keith in confusion.
“Keith, he’s more important than I am. He’s the Black Paladin.” Lance whispered, and Keith shook his head.
“And you’re the Red Paladin.” Keith countered. Lance chuckled, the sound broken. So fucking broken.
“I’m the stand-in for the Red Paladin.” Lance corrected, and Keith stared at Lance for a long time.
“No. You don’t get to say that. You never get to fucking say that. You are worth so much to the team- to me. You are so damn important. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you say that you’re worth nothing. You’re the stability of this team. You’re the soul. We need you. I need you.” Keith snarled, his voice so strong, so firm in his belief that Lance couldn’t help but stare at Keith, mouth slightly agape. And then he was hugging Keith, his head buried deep into the deep red sweatshirt Keith was wearing, his arms gripping Keith like he was a lifeline. The former Red Paladin stared down at Lance in shock for a long moment before returning the hug.
“Never say you’re a stand-in again. Promise me.” Keith murmured after a long moment, and Lance nodded.
“I promise.” Lance replied, his voice muffled by Keith’s sweatshirt.
The two stayed that way for a long time.
... for a long time, because they’re gay. Yeah there wasn’t much action but I feel like Lance deserves at least one break.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
Buy Me a Coffee - Fic Masterpost - June 8 Update Fic Options
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Venom Is Funnier Than You're Expecting
New Post has been published on https://funnythingshere.xyz/venom-is-funnier-than-youre-expecting/
Venom Is Funnier Than You're Expecting
Whatta goofball. Photo: Sony Pictures Digital Productions Inc.
A few months ago, director Ruben Fleischer tried to convince the world that his would-be super-franchise starter, Venom, is something it very much isn’t. Speaking to the huddled masses at San Diego Comic-Con, he said the titular protagonist would be a “grittier, grounded, complicated character,” and that there are “no heroes in this movie.” The much-watched first trailer — in which leading gent Tom Hardy grumbles his way through a monologue about life, the universe, and everything while we’re subjected to scenes of agony and brutality — similarly pulled a fast one on us. The PR campaign added up to a pitch for a film that mixed superhero tropes with psychological torture and visceral horror. But in retrospect, we shouldn’t have been fooled. This is Fleischer, after all — the guy who did Zombieland. Walking out of Venom, you’ll realize it functions first and foremost as a comedy. And an intentional one, at that.
To be fair, a lot of the film’s laughs are very much not deliberate. At the New York media screening last night, the first big guffaws came during the opening titles, when that world-famous Marvel comic-book-page-flip animation finished and zoomed out to reveal the Marvel logo with the slightly pathetic caveat “IN ASSOCIATION WITH” above it (this being a Sony picture, not a Disney/Marvel Cinematic Universe one). There were also laughs when, just minutes after establishing that Eddie (Tom Hardy) and Anne (Michelle Williams) are passionately in love, the latter blithely and unemotionally gives him back her engagement ring after he screws one thing up. A certain amount of the overwrought, supervillain-y dialogue from evil scientist Carlton (Riz Ahmed) also elicited giggles at its expense; e.g. a scene where he looks at a human test subject and says, “Such poor design,” to which a lab tech replies, “I’m sorry?” and Carlton adds, “Human beings.”
But I’d argue that such moments are in the minority. The film contains a vast wealth of laughs that emanate from a kind of action-comedy slapstick I sincerely didn’t know Tom Hardy had in him. “In him” is the key phrase there, as we have to wait until about a quarter of the way through the picture for a living goo to enter him and get the goofs going. For those not familiar with the setup to the whole Venom concept, dating all the way back to the Spider-Man comics of the 1980s, it’s relatively simple: there’s this alien organism called a “symbiote” (side note: the filmmakers must have seen the backlash to the “sim-bye-oat” pronunciation from the first trailer and done some dialogue rerecording, because in the finished product, everyone says the less-goofy “sim-bee-oat” or the traditional-for-Spider-Man-media “sim-bee-uht”) that takes over people’s bodies and speaks to them within their brains. The symbiote, whose alien name is translated to “Venom,” is generally pretty violent in its philosophy and has a hankering for the consumption of flesh. In the film, Eddie unwillingly becomes its host.
Once the pair are bonded, their life together becomes something of a one-man buddy comedy — and a delightful one. They’re a lovely mismatch: Eddie the cerebral pacifist and Venom the bloodthirsty marauder. Eddie needs Venom, as he’s a wanted man: Carlton’s sinister Life Foundation has been doing symbiote experiments and wants its property back, after which time they’ll ice poor Eddie. So Venom engages in vicious CGI combat with the baddies, exerting superstrength and flailing around his protean black-goop appendages to stab and toss folks hither and thither. Venom speaks as a voice in Eddie’s head and the latter is constantly trying to get the former to tone down the bloodletting a little bit, or at the very least explain what the hell is going on.
The result is Hardy, in not one but two of his signature weird vocal performances — the Noo Yawk grumbles and whines of Eddie and the overnunciated gut-punch mega-whisper of Venom — having a series of dialogues with himself. They’re often fantastic. I don’t want to spoil all the good exchanges, as they’re by and large perfectly timed and often surprising, but a few examples will suffice. “You are a loser, Eddie.” Venom bellows to him at one point; Eddie replies, “You gonna eat anybody else?” and Venom says, “Most likely.” Later, while trying to escape some henchmen in a tall building, Venom screams at Eddie, “Jump!” — we then cut to Eddie opting to take the elevator. There’s a beat. Then Venom simply intones, “Pussy.” My personal favorite comes at a tender moment between Eddie and Anne, when Venom very earnestly says, “Aww. That’s nice.” Okay, so not all of these work on paper, but a significant part of what allows them to land is the expert pacing of the sound edits and Hardy’s deft line readings.
But if you like Hardy’s vocals, you’ll love his physical work. This aspect one definitely can’t capture in writing, but I’ll do my best. Rarely has bodily possession been conveyed with such delicious weirdness. The thespian has these moments where he is in total control of his muscles as Eddie tries to one thing while the symbiote does another; for example, he one time raises his hands in surrender while Venom pulls them back down for attack, then back to surrender, then attack, and so on. You can see Eddie’s face contorted in shock that any of this is happening, sending a message to his assailants that he’s as confused as they are. (“You’re making us look bad!” the symbiote silently yells.) Or there are the multiple times where Venom craves food and Eddie jets toward some bit of meat or another and shoves it in his face while his eyes tell us he doesn’t have any idea what’s happening. It’s like watching Robin Williams in his prime.
Oh, and speaking of eating: reader, consider the lobster. Perhaps the comedic height of the flick comes at a restaurant that Eddie/Venom bursts into a fancy dining establishment to ask questions of Annie and her new boyfriend Dan (a perfectly cast Reid Scott, whose mere presence causes fans of Veep to chuckle at his comforting smarm). He hungers and keeps grabbing other diners’ food against his will, at one point holding a steak and screaming “This is dead!” But none of it is enough, and he eventually climbs into a lobster tank and settles himself in with a sigh of comfort, as though he were entering a bubble bath. He digs down beneath himself, grabs a lobster, and just tears into the poor thing. The frenzied look on Hardy’s face is worth the price of admission.
As is the opposites-attract vibe of his dual performance, in general. Much of the picture falls flat, but the Eddie/Venom dynamic is aces and lives up to the Zombieland legacy. Barring any Billionaire Boys Club–level flopping, a Venom sequel is inevitable. As long as Hardy and Hardy are back, I’ll shell out a few bucks to see it. I can always use a giggle or two.
Source: http://www.vulture.com/2018/10/review-venom-is-funny-despite-what-trailers-say.html
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For the week of 23 April 2018
Quick Bits:
Abbott #4 gives us the penultimate issue to the series, dropping all the pieces together to put Abbott on the path to discovery what is going on with all the death and paranormal stuff. The layouts from Sami Kavelä just elevates the storytelling to the next level.
| Published by BOOM! Studios
Aliens: Dust to Dust #1 is a fairly visceral beginning to this new min-series written and illustrated by Gabriel Hardman (with colours from Rain Beredo). It starts in terror as Maxon begins seeing violence outside his window and finds a facehugger attached to his mother, and just explodes from there with the colony world of LV-871 overrun by xenomorphs.
| Published by Dark Horse
Avengers #690 brings both “No Surrender” and this volume of Avengers to an end, serving as a coda to the series, tying up some loose ends, saying some goodbyes--especially as many of the X-Men characters seem to be going back home--and setting up some of the things to come. This has been a great story, with some wonderful art along the way, that well-encapsulated this era of the Avengers while presenting a fairly widescreen epic.
| Published by Marvel
Big Trouble in Little China: Old Man Jack #8 is the big confrontation with Ching Dai and it’s...not what you’d expect. Great art as usual from Jorge Corona.
| Published by BOOM! Studio
Bloodborne #3 is filled will existential dread. Particularly with the idea of that unknown, unseen terror hanging above your head, waiting to pounce. And of monsters being everywhere.
| Published by Titan
Cyber Force #2 continues the slow burn rebuilding and reintroduction of the team and their antagonists, with this issue mainly focusing on Velocity discovering the extent of her powers and revealing the updated version of Killjoy. Like the first issue, much of the story is similar, but the details get fleshed out a bit more and the look of the characters tends to be a bit different. It does highlight the differences in comics storytelling between today and twenty-five years ago. What used to be told in a handful of panels or a throwaway line now takes half an issue.
| Published by Image / Top Cow
Deep Roots #1 is another stellar debut from Vault, with absolutely gorgeous artwork from Val Rodrigues and Triona Farrell. The story...is a bit Swamp Thing-y, but not. It’s strange. Dan Watters excels at strange.
| Published by Vault
Doctor Strange #389 continues this necessary chunk of the “Damnation” event, revealing how Strange exited the depths of hell in order to get back to Las Vegas. Its structure is a bit odd, given that it’s actually told as a flashback, breaking with how the arc has been presented up until now, and it skips over what actually happens in Damnation #4, but it’s still entertaining. Donny Cates adds quite a few bits of reactive humour and the art from Niko Henrichon continues to be astounding.
| Published by Marvel
Doctor Strange: Damnation #4 concludes the event. I’ve enjoyed it overall, with some great moments spread across the constituent parts, but the main series itself has been told in a fairly oblique manner, leaving important details up to the tie-ins of Doctor Strange and Johnny Blaze. I don’t mind, personally, but if you’re only reading Damnation, it would feel a bit choppy. I am hoping that the tease of more Midnight Sons bears fruit. Some great art again from both Rod Reis and Szymon Kudranski.
| Published by Marvel
Dungeons & Dragons: Evil at Baldur’s Gate #1 returns the adventuring party home and has them scatter almost immediately, leaving Minsc and Boo to find their own misadventure about the city. Being Minsc and Boo-centric, Jim Zub opts for a story that’s a little sillier than usual, but it’s very welcome.
| Published by IDW
Exiles #2 is a rather fun comic, finishing up the gathering of the team, as they hop from realities under threat from the desiccated corpse version of Galactus that is the Time Eater. The differing realities that Saladin Ahmed is playing with here transcends earlier versions with the inclusion of Wolvie, allowing for a radically different interpretation and style of comics not often included in these kinds of reality hopping stories. It gives a nice bit of comic relief and allows Javier Rodríguez to further flex his artistic muscle. Between stylistic changes, layouts, and panel transitions, this is a damn good looking comic. Rodríguez, Álvaro López, and Chris O’Halloran are making the art as adventurous as the story.
| Published by Marvel
Gasolina #7 returns with Amalia and Randy hiding out and playing house with Amalia’s nephew, who is still somehow alive with one of those alien bug things in him. It’s still kind of weird how Sean Mackiewicz is presenting this mix of oddities with a more standard crime narrative, where the aliens/whatever-they-are are just about the least important thing. It’s a nice approach, drawing out the more “normal” aspects comparatively.
| Published by Image / Skybound
Grass Kings #14 drops one hell of a bombshell in this penultimate issue. Matt Kindt, Tyler & Hilary Jenkins are ensuring that this series goes out on a high note.
| Published by BOOM! Studios
Hunt for Wolverine #1 is a pretty good start to this event, even if ultimately the premise of Wolverine missing--when he’s been hopping around the Marvel Universe just missing anyone--is a little ridiculous. I mean, if he still has an Infinity Stone, despite the recent flowchart in Infinity Countdown #2, it makes a bit of sense, but otherwise... Anyway, Charles Soule, David Marquez, and Rachelle Rosenberg put together a great lead story, setting up the mystery of Logan’s missing body, and it remains to be seen how and why he actually came back. The second story, from Soule, Paulo Siquiera, Walden Wong, and Ruth Redmond then essentially sets up the spin-off series with the different teams looking for Wolverine.
| Published by Marvel
Ice Cream Man #4 serves up another cone of seriously strange horror. Like if you made beer-flavoured ice cream and topped it with bits of chocolate-covered grasshopper. This one features an outing between an estranged friend and the friend’s deadbeat dad after his funeral and it just gets more bizarre from there.
| Published by Image
Jeepers Creepers #1 is not something I ever expected to see. Although the first two movies were relatively successful, at the very least as cult horror flicks, I would have thought the surprisingly released third film and Victor Salva’s reputation killed the chance of this as a viable property that anyone would want to associate with. But here we are. In any event, Marc Andreyko pens an interesting story. Aside from the nods to the films like the Creeper’s truck, we mainly follow a grad student as he searches for connections between the Creeper and Aztec mythology. Not a bad premise, even if it feels like it’s coming from left field. The art from Kewber Baal, with colours by Jorge Sutil, is also pretty nice.
| Published by Dynamite
Kill or Be Killed #18 takes a bit of a sidestep as we head toward the series’ conclusion. I love when Ed Brubaker starts laying out the steps in a crime, or in a case as it were, and this issue follows the task force assigned to solving Dylan’s murders, especially in the wake of the death of the copycat they closed the case with. It’s interesting how the clues are presented and followed and as usual Sean Phillips and Elizabeth Breitweiser make it look gorgeous.
| Published by Image
KINO #5 begins the second arc, changing tone a bit as the series takes a darker turn with ChrisCross taking over the art duties here. Gone are the throwback styles of old comics and now we’ve got some stranger things as Alistair Meath has realized that he’s in some sort of simulation or...something. It’s an interesting shift, even with the introduction of Meath’s family in the real world, as the series seems to take on a more realistic, and slightly darker, tone, even though the real world sequences aren’t much different from what Joe Casey wrote in the previous issues.
| Published by Lion Forge / Catalyst Prime
The Mighty Thor #706 is a beautiful farewell to the Lady Thor, with some drop dead gorgeous artwork from Russell Dauterman and Matthew Wilson. This is a wonderful capstone to Jason Aaron and Dauterman’s run with Jane Foster and it will be interesting to see where Aaron goes next with the continuing war of the realms and the return of Thor Thor.
| Published by Marvel
Moon Knight #194 features some really nice guest art from Ty Templeton as Max Bemis pens a tale about a particularly dark period of Marc’s childhood. It’s a good single issue story dealing with some very heavy subject matter.
| Published by Marvel
Pathfinder: Spiral of Bones #2 features some really nice art from Tom Garcia and Morgan Hickman, as the story shifts to Valeros’ predicament of being dead and being mistaken for a particularly nasty individual. I enjoy how Crystal Frasier is expanding upon the Pathfinder concepts for the afterlife and Valeros’ situation is fairly funny, even if dire.
| Published by Dynamite
Sacred Creatures #6 was worth the wait. I know this series doesn’t get a lot of press, and often slips its schedule, but what Pablo Raimondi and Klaus Janson are crafting here is some pretty heady stuff, with reinterpretations of biblical epics and an entirely different take on the Nephilim and the Seven Deadly Sins (of which we learn there was an eighth this issue, Vanity, although vanity is usually just an example of pride). It’s good, it’s dense, and it’s beautifully illustrated.
| Published by Image
Strangers in Paradise XXV #3 keeps Katchoo on the path to find Stephanie Kelly. I love Terry Moore’s humour and this issue has it in spades.
| Published by Abstract Studio
Thanos Annual #1 is a collection of mostly dark humour stories of Thanos as told by a motley crew of creators, including the recently departed Thanos creative team of Donny Cates and Geoff Shaw, and a number of other luminaries like Al Ewing, Chris Hastings, Frazer Irving, Katie Cook, Kieron Gillen, and more. It’s a fun set of stories, also serving as a bit of bridge to the forthcoming Cosmic Ghost Rider mini-series.
| Published by Marvel
Witchblade #5 goes deeper in the darkness that has rooted itself deep within New York City’s underworld as Alex investigates a dirty cop, unveiling a web of corruption. We also get a really nice reveal at the end of the issue.
| Published by Image / Top Cow
X-Men Blue #26 unleashes more of Miss Sinister’s Mothervine plan across the world with secondary and tertiary mutations occurring, along with old depowered X-Men regaining powers. This feels bigger than something that’s just confined to one X-book, which is a testament to the level of storytelling Cullen Bunn is bringing here. While there are timeline quibbles, especially with Venomized going on currently that has already brought the original five back to Earth, it is entertaining to see Polaris’ new team in action.
| Published by Marvel
X-O Manowar #14 is one of the most beautiful and heartbreaking things you can read this week. Matt Kindt, Ariel Olivetti, and Dave Sharpe return Aric to Earth, but not to home.
| Published by Valiant
Other Highlights: All-New Wolverine #34, Archie #30, Babyteeth #10, The Beef #3, Black AF: Widows & Orphans #1, Crossroad Blues, Cult Classic: Return to Whisper #2, Days of Hate #4, The Despicable Deadpool #299, Factory #2, Giles #3, Harrow County #30, Hillbilly #9, Hit-Girl #3, Incidentals #8, Invincible Iron Man #599, Jim Henson’s Labyrinth: Coronation #3, Legion #4, Lockjaw #3, Lumberjanes #49, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Annual 2018, Now #3, Old Man Hawkeye #4, The Pervert, Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #303, The Prisoner #1, Reactor #3, Redneck #12, Regression #9, Rick & Morty #37, Saga #51, Shadowman #2, Sheena: Queen of the Jungle #8, Songs for the Dead #2, Spider-Gwen #31, Star Wars: Darth Vader #15, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra #19, Throwaways #13, Venom #165, Venomized #4, The Wilds #2
Recommended Collections: The Damned - Volume 2: Ill Gotten, Dead of Winter: Good Good Dog, Fear Agent: Final Edition - Volume 1, Goldie Vance - Volume 4, Hack/Slash: Resurrection - Volume 1, Heavy Vinyl, Jessica Jones - Volume 3: Return of the Purple Man, KINO - Volume 1: Escape from the Abyss, Lazarus Sourcebook Collection - Volume 1, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers - Volume 5, Spirits of Vengeance: War at the Gates of Hell, Star Wars: Darth Vader - Volume 2: Legacy’s End, Stumptown - Volume 2: The Case of the Baby in the Velvet Case
d. emerson eddy wonders.
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