((Okay, so @doodledrawsthings got me interested in hell’s au, and then the subject of mortality came to be. Then @kitkat1003 wrote an amazing fic, and well… this happened))
I guess it wouldn’t have been long before Joey and I would kick the bucket. Who would have guessed 70 years in the studio would go by so quickly am I right?
Anyway, I guess this is just a bit of a sendoff before Joey and I take our dirt nap. If by some miracle by God you start getting a sick feeling in your stomache, excessive ink overflow, or wanting to lay in bed for all eternity and contemplate your existence, then just think of this as revenge for trying to drown me in ink on that Thursday those years ago.
So yes, surprise! People die for real here. It’s a damn slow, natural thing we do, a thing we can’t control. No one lasts forever in this world no matter how hard we try to make them last. So you’ll probably think, “Henry! You sicko! Why the hell are you so nonchalant about this?!” I won’t say anything or course, because you know, I’ll be dead.
And besides, you always said that I was a sort of moody guy. I guess you finally rubbed off on me after all these years.
But hey boss, chin up, here comes the better part. We may not last forever, but you, Boris, Alice, everyone else, you guys sure will.
Now you’re probably getting mad at Joey for making you this way right? Even I still think he’s insane for doing what he did, but after this experience I have realized some virtues in his work. Bendy, you’re a legacy. The people of this world know that one day they’re all going to die. Some like me and Joey accept it, but keep on hoping. But there are others who know it, but they’ve given up all hope. They forget how to laugh and enjoy their time here because they don’t see the point.
That’s where you and the gang come in. When Me and Joey drew you, we wanted to make you all into someone everyone would love. You’d make them laugh, cry, even get scared when you try to drown them in a flood of ink and suffering (I’m never letting this go, not over my dead body). Because what you do reminds them that despite it all, life can be fun.
Wipe that ink off your face bucko, you’re only halfway through the sentiment.
This is for Boris. In case you’re still wondering who’s a good boy, well, I’ve got the answer buddy. It was you all along.
Keep swinging that clarinet of yours like there’s no tomorrow, because you never know when someone’s gonna need some cheering up from a certain good boy. (It’s still you, you loveable pup) Don’t worry about us okay buddy? We’ll be fine. Just make sure Bendy doesn’t cause too much trouble alright?
Now for Alice, who knows, maybe you will end up as popular as Bendy some day (I said might Bendy, don’t get all huffy). In the meantime, keep those boys in line as much as you can. They need you more than they think they do. And remember to tell Boris to turn off the system after recording, no one likes hearing Wally singing “Dancin’ Queen” acapella.
And finally, we’d like to thank you all for bieng our crew. Thank you for the laughs, the pick-me-ups, the random dances, the naggy critics, even the times you tried to drown us in ink. But most importantly, thank you for bieng our legacy. You made our dreams come true, now go on and make everyone else’s do the same.
look I'm just saying there are some good sex scenes in that garbage movie so you know bellamy could finger clarke at a club OR she could ride him on the couch and that would be A++ right?
I honestly still cannot believe someone paid for that movie to happen.
Bellamy had his hips pressed against hers so tightly she thought she might combust, and when he dropped his lips to her neck she let her forehead fall to his shoulder with a sigh. Clarke could feel, rather than hear, the pounding of the bass from the DJ and she slipped her hands underneath his shirt to press against his bare skin. She was just drunk enough to do this; her brain fuzzy enough that she could say they were just messing around and not changing everything. He was her best friend and she was reasonably sure best friends didn’t do this, but she was also reasonably sure if she stopped touching him she might die, so the risk was worth it. They were in a dark corner of the club and she wasn’t sure how they ended up separated from everyone else but she didn’t want to find them, because Bellamy’s arms around her and his teeth scraping against her skin was the best thing she had ever felt.
But then he spun her around and his hand banded across her ribcage to pull her against him and she decided that was the best thing she had ever felt. His chest against her back, his dick hard against her ass, and his hand just below her sternum to keep her in place. They writhed with the music and he moved his mouth to the shell of her ear as his hand inched down. “Okay, princess?” he asked when his finger nudged the waistband of her skirt, and Clarke moaned in response.
His hand went lower and god, she was glad none of their friends were around. Bellamy’s other hand flexed around her hip when his fingers parted her soaking folds and he cursed softly in her ear. Clarke laughed and tipped her head back to kiss his jaw, her arm draped up and around his neck. His movements were sloppy and inexact but it didn’t matter because they’d been dancing like this for the better part of an hour and every single nerve in her body was primed, poised just on the edge of a cliff over which there was no return.
Bellamy thrust one finger inside of her and she came with a sharp cry, her walls clenching down on him as the music built to a crescendo. He pulled his fingers away and she whined and spun around, intending to beg him for more. Instead she watched him lick his fingers clean and her knees nearly buckled with want.
Clarke kissed him then— their first real kiss, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about what it would be like, but she never thought it would taste like her— and his hands came to hold her face close. “We have to leave,” she gasped against his mouth. “Now.”
“They’ll wonder where we’ve gone,” he said, but he sounded just as gone as she was.
“They’ll figure it out,” Clarke said, and took his hand to drag him from the club and back to her bedroom.
- 16-year-old Brenda Spencer’s answer as to why she shot up an elementary school in 1979.
Spencer, who is one of only three female school shooters, used a .22 calibre semi-automatic rifle to shoot 11 people. Eight children and a police officer were severely injured, while the principal and a custodian were killed. After the shooting, she locked herself in her house and telephoned a journalist whom interviewed her over the phone. He then passed the call onto police negotiators, who she told “I’ll come out shooting!” After a few hours, Spencer ended up surrendering.
Tried as an adult, Spencer pleaded guilty to two counts of murder and assault with a deadly weapon. She remains incarcerated.
HOO BOY! i’ll be gone for a pretty big chunk of time!
but you guys can catch me in minneapolis for the con! you can find me with
super excited for another great weekend! if you don’t have funds for Scout Things or feel intimidated by me and it’s keeping you from saying hey, STOP THAT! i’ve gotten so many messages from people who regret lurking, and i don’t want you to be one of them!!
anyway, i should have some exciting announcements once i get back. til then, i’ll see you guys later!
(also, i most likely won’t be able to check tumblr AT ALL. a new update is now causing my mobile app to crash as soon as it opens, so i’ll be most responsive on twitter while i’m away. thank guys!)
[Drawing of a stick-figure girl with her hands on her hips and a nervous smile on her face. Above her are the words, “POTS Problem #37: Post-Event Exhaustion!” The girl says, “Well, I did the thing! Now to go home and sleep for a week!”]
I did a little public speaking and a lot of walking on Friday–then sort of fell asleep on my best friend in the car on the way home the next day, not to mention the power nap after we got home and the general feeling of “wow I can’t move.” Recovery days are real.