#My boss looked at me the other day and went ?? ‘You like giving vaccines don’t u!’ I do indeed! I don’t know why!

[minminambus]

Does a little thinkie. I am excited about giving vaccines for some silly reason!

[fluffyllamas-23]

@taylortut sent me this lovely prompt for my new girls and I love it so much omg

“What if one of your characters was out of town doing that while the other is home sick, and they can only video chat until the other one gets home? so she just has to keep worrying about the fact that her wifey sounds worse every time they chat? wouldn't that be so :) sad and bad :)"

Arwen has often thought of her job as mostly perks. She loves what she does, it’s the best job in the world. She worked her ass off when she was younger to get to where she is, and now that she’s there, she’s never been happier.

One of the things her office does that she loves is once a month some of the vets and vet techs will volunteer to go out of town and give out free vaccines. It always rotates and comes out to be her turn once every six months or so.   

Normally she would be all for going, but now she’s regretting volunteering this time. Marcia had been feeling like she was coming down with something for the last few days, but was doing her best to try and kick it before Arwen left. But everything she tried was in vain, because the morning Arwen was set to leave, Marcia had woken up feeling pretty rough. 

It’s all the usual cold symptoms - headache, sore throat, congestion, coughing - and it’s clear that Marcia isn’t feeling great.

“Maybe I shouldn’t leave,” Arwen murmurs. 

She’s propped up on her elbow, looking down at Marcia while she strokes her hair. It’s still early, Marcia had woken up around four, coughing. While Arwen went to find her meds and some cough drops, Marcia texted Oliver, their boss, that she was sick and needed a few days off. He had texted her back 45 minutes later, telling her to feel better and not to worry about work.

“What are you talking about?” Marcia croaks, clearing her throat with a wince. She rolls on her side, facing Arwen and looks up at her. 

“You’re sick.”

Marcia rolls her eyes, waving Arwen off. “Yeah, but you staying here won’t magically heal me. Go give free vaccines, you love that.”

“But I love you more.”

She chuckles lightly, coughing into the blankets. “Baby, you’re only going to be gone for a few days. I promise I don’t even feel that bad. I’ll probably be fine by the time you’re home.”

And that isn’t a total lie - she really doesn’t feel that bad. 

Yet. 

She can tell it’s going to get way worse, but she feels silly asking Arwen to skip out and stay home because she has a cold, even if she really wants to.

“Okay,” Arwen relents. “I really shouldn’t be making this about me, sorry. How are you feeling?”

Marcia shrugs, “not great, but I suspect I’ll live.”

As soon as Arwen leaves, Marcia can feel herself deflate. She really wishes Arwen could stay, but that feels selfish when she’s doing something so important. She can deal with being sick by herself, but she already misses her wife. 

All she wants is for Arwen to climb back into bed with her and hold her while she sleeps. 

*

Arwen waits patiently for Marcia to come back into frame. She had answered the video call on her laptop and croaked at Arwen that her tea was ready and she’d be right back. She drops down in front of the laptop a few minutes later, a blanket around her shoulders.  Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, and Arwen can see the pale, worn out expression on her face. 

It’s the day after Arwen left, and Marcia had woken up feeling 100% worse than she had the previous day. She’d woken up with a 102 degree fever, and coughing so bad that she’s tempted to drag herself to urgent care to see if she can get meds or something. Ultimately, that feels like it’ll take way more energy than she has, so she’s been napping and hoping for the best all day. 

“How are you feeling, honey?” Arwen asks softly.

“Uh…” Marcia croaks, yawning sleepily. “Sorry. I napped all day.”

“Baby, you’re avoiding my question.”

Marcia drops her eyes to stare at her lap. “I just…don’t want you to feel bad.”

“Marcia,” Arwen says softly. “You can tell me.”

Marcia smothers a particularly nasty sounding coughing fit into a sweater paw. “I really don’t feel good…at all.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I wish I was there,” she frowns. “That cough sounds really bad, lovebug…do you need a doctor?”

“Probably,” Marcia croaks. “I’m too dizzy to drive anywhere, though.”

“Shit,” Arwen hisses. “Want me to call someone to drive you?”

A look of horror crosses her face. “That’s so embarrassing, no.”

“Marcia-”

“-No.” 

Arwen purses her lips, “you promise you’ll tell me if you need me to get someone to take you to the doctor?”

Marcia scowls at her. “I can’t make that promise.”

“Marcia,” Arwen groans. “Come on. If you don’t promise me you’ll tell me if you need a doctor, I’m coming home now.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Then stop being so stubborn, oh my god.”

“No,” Marcia snaps. 

They stare at each other for a few moments, silence only punctuated by Marcia coughing and sniffling. 

Arwen shifts, tucking her feet underneath herself as she pulls the comforter over her lap. “Baby I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry. I’m just worried and I hate that I’m not there.”

“I miss you a lot,” Marcia says in a tiny voice, tears pricking her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m cranky.”

“You’re sick, sweetpea. Of course you’re going to be cranky.”

“When are you coming home?”

Arwen sighs. “Three days. I’ll be back on Saturday. Think you can hang in until then?”

They facetime every night, and by the time Friday rolls around, Arwen is ready to be home already. Marcia seems worse each time they talk. Currently, she’s in bed, shivering underneath a pile of blankets, coughing almost incessantly. She doesn’t have the energy to hold her phone, so it’s next to her on the bed, facing the ceiling.

“I’m coming home early,” Arwen says. 

“But you have one more day,” Marcia croaks after a pause. 

“I know, but you’re sick, and I want to be home with you.”

She rolls over, vision swimming at the change in position. “Okay.”

“My flight leaves in an hour. I’ll be home before midnight.”

“Okay,” Marcia murmurs, eyelids drooping. She tugs at the blankets and pulls them over her head.   

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be there soon.”

*

Arwen creeps into their bedroom at 11:54, technically before midnight, just like she promised. She’s trying to be as quiet as possible, because Marcia is asleep, and -

“Arwen?” A sleepy voice rasps.

Shit. 

“Sorry,” Arwen whispers, walking over to Marcia’s side of the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, honey,” she winces, kneeling down next to Marcia. Arwen strokes her hair, brushing it off of her face. “Feeling that bad, huh?”

The soft concern in her voice is enough to bring Marcia to tears, and suddenly everything she’s been trying not to think about hits her like a ton of bricks. She hasn’t really been able to sleep, and she hates being alone feeling this awful, and she’s missed Arwen so much it hurts. But now Arwen is here, and Marcia is feeling all sorts of emotions about it.

“Can’t stop coughing,” Marcia whimpers, and as if on cue, starts coughing so harshly that Arwen’s own chest aches in sympathy. “I can’t sleep.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She’s quiet, and then, “fuck…no.”

“I’ll go get you some. Want some tea, too?”

Marcia hides her face in the pillow. “Please.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Arwen says softly, kissing her cheek. She pulls away with a frown and presses her palm to Marcia’s forehead. Her skin is burning beneath Arwen’s touch, and she’s suddenly even more glad she decided to come home early. “God, you’re warm. baby. I’m getting the thermometer, too. We’re going to urgent care in the morning.”

“Okay,” Marcia mumbles. 

“We’ll get you feeling better, honey. I promise.”

And Marcia somehow believes her, even if she can’t imagine ever feeling better. She trusts Arwen, though. 

Arwen always makes everything better, and now that she’s finally home, all is right in the world.

[ahiddenpath]

Hidden’s Life

It’s been a week at the shiny new job.

For some background info, I’ve always worked at relatively small biotech companies.  I’ve been to three before this new one; I researched biodiesel made from algae as an undergrad, then I made tools for researchers for about 5 years (mostly genes, CRISPR kits, and lentivirus), and then I started doing immunotherapy research for the last 6 years.  Unfortunately, that last company wasn’t doing well, and things got worse and more emotionally charged as time went on and money and staff dwindled.

So my latest job is...  Um, it’s the big leagues.  It’s a worldwide company, a household name.  I’m so blown away by the resources here- machines that do on their own what an entire department did at my old job, entry level baby scientists hired to make all of our plates/buffers, even night personnel to respond to night time equipment failure?!?!  I received an email one day explaining that a -80C freezer failed overnight, and the email’s sender moved everything from X freezer to backup freezer Y.  No one was called at 3 AM to come in and deal with this; someone is specifically hired to monitor the labs at night.

The building has a café and a health center and a zillion other services for employees.  For example, I was emailed to ask if I want a titer for hepatitis B.  Hepatitis B is one of the more contagious/easily spread human bloodborne diseases.  At my last job, I was suddenly told I would be working with human blood, and was asked to get vaccinated for hep B...  A process that took almost 8 months, as I had exactly zero antibodies for it in my blood (that’s what a titer is- they draw your blood and check for the presence of protective antibodies against hep B already in your body, then decide vaccine dosage from there).  Back then, it took 8 months, and my company made me work with blood the whole time, before I was protected.

My new company won’t give scientists access to the bio safety level (BSL) 2 lab until they either decline vaccination formally or finish their vaccination series.  Plus!  THERE IS A BSL2 SPECIFIC LAB!  You need to be trained to go there and given access!  It’s walled off from everyone else, limiting exposure and making sure no one cross contaminates equipment!  I cannot believe how out of compliance my last two companies were in comparison!  (Even better, there is currently no expectation of me going in there at all, I’m getting vaccinated because, like, why not?  EVEN BETTER, the facility lacks BSL3 and 4 labs entirely, so I will never be asked to go above 2!  They prefer to contract that work out to existing experts, rather than put us untrained folks in harm’s way).  

AND!  AND!  I can do all of my vaccine stuff in the building!  I just had to walk down the stairs and give some blood, it took five minutes!

So um...  Yeah, it’s a really nice and safe environment, is what I’m saying.  There are some downsides- it’s awful “sit anywhere you want, you don’t get a seat” open seating.  I am the type that likes to hunker down and nest, so this is so annoying, but each individual sitting area is really big, so oddly it’s more spread out than when I had assigned seating.  

Um, so far, it seems good?  I actually feel really set loose and ignored, lol, because there are so many computer training modules.  I was basically welcomed with a 30 min meeting with my new boss and left alone to do computer modules and attend meetings the rest of the time.  But no one is expecting independent work from me for at least a month, and I’m looking forward to when I get lab clearance and can follow people around more.  So far, the only downside has been... loneliness and a vague sense of, “Er, I GUESS I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing...”

I’m hoping I can take advantage of the many, MANY end of year events (seriously there is a solid week of work hosted parties) to make friends while people don’t have as much work.  

Another odd thing, at least in my mind, is that people do not goof off in the office area.  This isn’t to say people don’t goof off- they just do so in designated goofing off areas.  If you wanna look at your phone or take a call, you go to a break room.  If you’re sitting in the office, the expectation is that you are working.  It’s a bit odd, as I’ve never worked anywhere with the funds to provide goof off areas???  

People seem busy, but not stressed/frustrated/bitter/resentful, which was a huuuuuge problem at my last place.  Being tired from working hard but not being upset vs being tired from working hard and feeling like everything is unfair and you’re being unfairly treated and everyone around you is miserable?  Those are two very different feelings.  And I am exhausted, my guys.  I keep passing out at 9 PM on the sofa.  I slept 12 hours last night, and I’m still so so so tired.   Learning so many new things and adjusting takes a huge toll on me.   

But...  IDK, I think things are going to be fine here.  I sure hope so!  They definitely are doing a ton of important work.  Among many other things, my new team makes covid medications- not vaccines, I mean meds you take if you get it- and it looks like the work I do is going to have actual impact on people who are sick.  I’ve already been in meetings where we discuss the next breakout variant, how many people will have it in how long, and what possible antibodies we have that could neutralize the new variant in patients.  Everyone is really passionate about it.  

At my last job, anything I worked on was like 10+ years and a shit ton of luck away from actually helping anyone (other than by discovering things that DON’T work, which, tbh, is a huge part of science).  It seems like the turnaround is just a few weeks at this new company.  Some of that is because covid stuff is so prioritized across the board, but a lot of that is sheer big company money and connections (ie, our collaborators in the NIH public disease know x, which allows us to focus on y as our best bet, etc).

Basically, this is huge for me.  I didn’t even understand how huge it was when I applied, or even when I got the role.  So... fingers crossed that I meet expectations and that training goes well.  

For now, I will be perpetually tired, and there will be times when I’m not online much, let alone creating much, but that will slowly get better.  And hopefully, I’ll feel both more fulfilled, more valued, and less stressed than before.  

Thank you so much for reading all of this, and for caring about me <3  I can’t believe all of the support and love you guys give me, thank you so very much!  I hope you’re all doing well, I love you!

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 11

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Fury comes for another weekly check-in and Reader gets in trouble. He also brings along a doctor, will he have good or bad news for Rocket?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: A -l o n g b o i- of a chapter. Also, for my records, this is day 14 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 7,756

You wake up early, partially due to the pain in your arm, but mostly because you knew Fury would likely be coming today and you wanted to try and get to town and back before he arrived.

After a light breakfast you start to go out back door to retrieve the box the raccoon corpse was in, but Peter, who had also just finished eating and who suspected exactly what you're doing, jumped up and said he'll help you get the box.

You roll your eyes, and you're about to tell him you are fine to do it yourself when you hear knock at door. You assume it's Fury, but you want to be careful. You look out window, prepared to tell Peter to keep the others out of sight, when you notice two SHIELD vehicles behind your own, and that they hadn't been cloaked like Fury's was last time.

"It's Fury," you tell Peter, and he goes to fetch a few of the others who weren't already in the kitchen, mostly Rocket, because he expected they would want to see him after you said you'd be contacting SHIELD about the raccoon fight and whether Rocket had his shots.

Feeling slightly relieved that it was just Fury and that he hadn't decided to test you this time, you answer the door to see not only Fury and Agent Hill, but another man.

Fury gives a quick greeting and introduces the man as a doctor they brought along to test the dead raccoon. Apparently they came prepared after your message to Maria the previous night. You offer to go unlock shed but Fury says he needs you to stay there, and to give the doctor the keys. You are surprised, but obey, assuming he just wants briefed on what happened last night.

You hand the doctor the keys and he disappears back out the front door while you lead Fury and Maria into the kitchen where the others are just as Peter comes back down the stairs with Drax and Rocket.

As suspected, Fury asks first about what happened with the raccoon incident.

Rocket rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Nothing."

Drax speaks up. He tells Fury that he and you heard the commotion outside, saw Rocket getting attacked, and then you shot the offending animal.

Fury nods. "I see. I trust you've already looked him over, but our doctor will be doing so again before he administers the booster. According to our records Rocket was given a rabies vaccination, but you can never be too careful."

"Good." you reply, nodding your head in relief.

Rocket just hopped up on the counter to sit with his arms crossed indignantly, not looking forward to being examined for something he had already been checked for, but surprisingly he chose not to be a child about it.

"How long before we know if the raccoon was infected or not?" asked Kraglin.

Agent Hill answered. "The test takes about two hours. We brought a lab van so the test could be preformed on site that way we'd know as soon as possible."

Leave it to SHIELD to come prepared for literally everything.

"We also brought another couple weeks worth of rations. NOVA expects you all to be here for awhile more." This earned unhappy muttered grumblings from Rocket, but the others kept their mouth shut. They were never under the impression the negotiations would be done quickly. Maria continued, "So if a few of you want to help carry the boxes in..." she gestured towards the kitchen door. She said it politely, but it wasn't exactly a request. She wasn't a maid.

You nodded and started to head toward the door when Fury said. "Agent, stop."

You stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sir?"

Peter, Drax, and Kraglin, who had stood and were also about to follow Agent Hill (and tell you specifically not to go, for obvious reasons), also stopped, surprised by Fury's tone. He almost sounded a bit like he was scolding you despite his tone being even.

"Please remove your sweater."

The sweater he was referring to was actually an old knit cardigan. You had taken to wearing it the past few days due both to a string of overcast and therefore chillier days, and well, for said obvious reasons. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask.

"Your jacket. Take it off."

You swallow. You had a sneaking suspicion why he would ask you that. He had an annoying habit of somehow knowing everything. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not-"

"Remove your jacket, agent. Or do you need Agent Hill to assist you?" It was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

You try to hide a grimace as you did what you were told, doing your best not to wince as you pulled your sweater off your good arm first and then the injured arm. Silently you wondered who had squealed on you. A small gasp from Mantis was heard when she saw what your sweater had been hiding, and you could feel the eyes of the others also on you as Fury gave you an unamused look and Agent Hill's eyes widened sightly. Even Rocket looked a bit surprised. He wasn't expecting it to look that bad.

Purple and green bruising stained your arm, radiating out from your elbow and stretching from your bicep to maybe 5 inches shy of your wrist.

"The doctor is also here to check over your injury as well." Fury said. Looking to Gamora he thanked her for informing them of your injury before turning back to scold you for not having mentioned it to them or having seen a doctor for it. He also threw in that you should be wearing a sling and resting your arm instead of 'acting like a dumbass who thinks they don't need to take care of themselves.'

"Sir, it's fine. I-"

"I'm trusting you to protect these people. How are you going to do that if you cripple yourself by neglecting injuries?" he scolded.

You shot an unhappy look to Gamora, but you could tell she wasn't sorry. You also caught almost smug looks from Yondu and Peter before turning back to Fury.

"How did it happen?" asked Maria. Gamora had told her that it had happened, that you refused help, and that you put it back in place yourself, but she hadn't told her how it happened. Seeing the aftermath of the injury now herself had made her curious.

"Slipped," you say before anyone can speak up for you. "Clumsy me," you add sarcastically.

Peter raised an eyebrow and shared glances with Kraglin and Yondu, surprised that you seemed to be covering for him. However, he didn't correct you, assuming you gave that answer for a reason, and after all, it wasn't totally a lie, more just... not the whole truth.

That explanation was apparently good enough for Fury and Maria because she nodded at the guys for them to follow as Fury laid into you again.

***

Maria opened the back hatch of the SUV, revealing crates of rations to be taken inside.

Lifting up one of the crates, Peter tried to make conversation, mentioning how Fury seemed surprisingly mad at you for not seeking out a doctor for your injury.

Sure, he could understand your boss telling you that you were dumb for neglecting an injury and scolding you for being stupid, but Fury's anger seemed different than he would have expected. Almost like he genuinely cared that you had gotten hurt. He couldn't remember any of his mother's bosses caring that much. If anything, if she had gotten hurt or sick, they would have preferred that she pretended she hadn't and just worked through it. Then again, he always did think most of her bosses were mean. Maybe she just had bad luck?

"Yeah, well, this wouldn't be the first time she's hidden an injury." Maria admitted. "I imagine he's getting a bit tired of it."

Kraglin took a crate from Maria. "She do that often?" he asked, surprised that anyone would just routinely hide when they've been hurt for seemingly no reason.

"It's not a super frequent occurrence, but she does have a bad habit of not saying when she's hurt. Once she got stabbed on the job in Hong Kong... we only found out when another agent walked in on her trying to stitch herself up in the hotel afterwards." She stacked a crate on top of the one Drax was already holding and shut the hatch before bending down to pick up the last crate she had set on the ground for herself. "Then there was a time when we were on a job together in Romania. We had been captured and held hostage for two days. I noticed she started looking worse and worse as time went on. I thought she was just getting sick, but then she passed out during the last interrogation attempt before SHEILD busted in the door with backup." She started walking back towards the house with the men. "I found out after they got her to medical that the day after we got sent out she came down with appendicitis and instead of telling someone that something was wrong and getting medical treatment, she apparently decided it was better to just cut out her own appendix- still don't know how she managed that without anyone noticing." Maria sounded like she clearly disapproved of your prior actions. "Anyway, with no way to keep it clean while we were being held prisoner, she had developed an infection. She was put on suspension for that one. I've got more, but I think you get the drift."

The three men's eyes were wide as they followed Agent Hill back to the house.

"That's insane." Peter said. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Beats me. She didn't always used to be that way, but now we use her as an example for what you shouldn't do with the new recruits."

"What do you think changed? Could she have suffered a brain injury that made her dumb?" Drax asked.

Peter shifted his crate so he could open the door and scolded Drax for being rude. As they walked into the hall Maria said, "No head injury that I'm aware of, she just kinda changed after-"

She never got to finish that sentence, for they entered the kitchen to hear you angrily say to Fury, "You can't be serious."

The four made their way towards the pantry with their crates, cautiously eyeing the situation so as to not appear nosy. Well, except for Drax, who was just flat out staring.

You were staring angrily at a stern-faced Fury while Gamora looked at the two of you, uneasiness in her eyes. Yondu and Rocket had looks of almost smug satisfaction playing on their faces, while Mantis and Groot appeared confused and intrigued.

"Serious as a heart attack." Fury answered. "After the doctor examines you and gives his orders, she-" he pointed to Gamora, "is going to report back to me if you break them, since clearly she has more sense than you."

"Sir, I don't need a babysitter-"

"Act like a baby, you get a sitter." Fury responded, cutting you off. "Adults know better than to just ignore serious injuries, Agent. Or do I need to remind you of the stunt you pulled in Romania?"

Gamora looked uncomfortable, and she wasn't even the one being scolded, though now she did wonder what you had done in Romania, wherever that was. Yondu was also curious, as Fury's statement confirmed you had done this more than once.

You sighed indignantly, "Sir I-"

"Enough. Unless you want to tell me you intend to defy orders, I suggest you keep any excuses to yourself. If I hear anything about you neglecting the doctor's orders, your ass will be assigned to a desk so fast your head will spin. Are we clear?"

Your eyes widened. Desk duty?! He couldn't do that to you. "What? Sir?! You can't do that-" you say, your voice almost pleading with a hint of indignation.

He says again, more firmly, "Are we clear?" Not only could he, he most definitely would. You thought being assigned to stay home was bad? Try being stuck in a cubicle for the next foreseeable future.

"Yes, sir." you say begrudgingly.

"Good."

Rocket started chuckling, pleased to see you get dressed down by your boss. In your own home, no less. Then he got an idea. "Hey, Agent." he said in a mocking tone.

You turn to glare at him. "What?" you respond irritably.

"Why don't you tell me where that new bed in my room came from?" He was wearing a shit eating grin, and you weren't sure why he'd bring it up right now.

You roll your eyes. "How should I know? Bed faeries? Piss off."

Rocket grinned wider. "Really? 'Cause I've got a feeling you aren't allowed to lie to your director, so if he were to ask..."

Fury, not in the mood, flatly repeated what he had said on the last visit, "I'm not here to get involved with your petty squabbles." adding, "I couldn't care less what this was about."

Rocket almost looked disappointed, and you relieved, before Agent Hill said, "Well, he might not care, but we'll be here for the next two hours waiting on results anyway... and technically I do outrank you..." Her smile wasn't malicious, it was clear that her intent was only some good-natured ribbing to her fellow agent who seemingly didn't like to admit that she'd done something nice for the asshole raccoon. Trying to lighten the mood.

You give Maria a look that says, 'Are you fucking kidding?'

Rocket looked delighted, and a few of the others looked pleasantly intrigued by your expression. By now everyone had pretty much gathered that you had made Rocket the bed, but you never would say as much. It'd be interesting if you'd actually admit it, or suffer whatever consequence lying to a superior might entail if they would choose to enforce it.

Fury, however, rolled his eye and told Maria he was going to have a word with the doctor. His way of saying that this issue wasn't worth his time, but he also wasn't going to stop whatever happened next.

Maria didn't force you to come clean about the bed. Not at first anyway. She did, however, exercise her power to keep you in line. Meaning, if you didn't do like you were told and just sit and wait for the doctor while the guys finished emptying the crates into the pantry and returned the crates to the vehicle, she'd make veiled threats to ask where the bed came from.

You knew she was only having a bit of fun, but you still stared daggers at her.

***

After a bit Fury returned with the doctor, who greeted you again by handing you the keys to your shed, stating that he locked it back up. He also informed that part of the the rabies test involved freezing the samples for 45 minutes, so he would examine you and Rocket in the meantime.

You went to motion for Rocket to go first, but Fury prodded the doctor in your direction, giving you a look that you knew better than to argue with. Rocket stuck his tongue out at you and remained sitting, satisfied, on the counter. Out of most everyone's sight, though, his tail twitched.

You were tense, but on your best behavior the whole time the doctor examined your injured arm, not wishing for Fury to come up with another punishment for your disobedience.

The doctor pulled a device out of a briefcase that turned out to be a fancy portable X-ray device to make sure there were no fractures. Luckily there weren't any.

The outcome was determined that you were very lucky. Somehow you had managed to set the bones back in place well enough on your own without accidentally breaking the radial heads in the 're-entry' process, something the doctor said he'd wouldn't have expected for a self-reset, but then again, most don't attempt to reset this type of injury on their own either. You were given a mild scolding by the doctor for not putting the arm in a sling so the ligaments could heal, however, and he said you were very lucky it didn't re-dislocate. You internally groaned as "I told you so's" peeped from behind you.

The doctor placed your arm in a strange hinged brace with a strap that made it sort of like a sling with the instructions that you were required to wear it with the strap for a week. Afterwards you could remove the strap, but you would still need to wear the brace for at least another two or three weeks. You were also placed on a weight restriction of only 5 pounds for your injured arm. Great...

You didn't say anything, only nodded, having gotten the message that it wasn't in your best interest to argue if you didn't want another tongue-lashing from Fury.

When the doctor was done with you he moved onto Rocket, who's ears momentarily flattened when he saw the doctor was now approaching him, but he quickly recovered, begrudgingly allowing himself to be examined.

As expected, the doctor found nothing of concern, barely even a scratch, which he was sure to clarify that Rocket likely wouldn't have contracted rabies from even if the animal does test positive.

The doctor turned to his coat pocket and pulled out a pre-loaded syringe of pinkish liquid, declaring to Rocket that it was the vaccine booster as he pulled off the cap.

Peter saw Rocket stiffen and finally noticed the twitching of his tail, and decided to be merciful and distract him. "Hey, Trash Panda,"

Rocket turned his head to Peter as the doctor grabbed his arm. "I don't answer to that, Star-Munch."

"You just did." Peter laughed.

Rocket growled at him before turning back to the doctor and asking him to hurry up so he could bite a chunk out of Peter's face.

"Already done," stated the doctor, capping the now empty needle and slipping it into a plastic bag before returning it to his pocket.

Rocket raised his eyebrows, forgetting his previous anger towards Peter. "Oh." His tail ceased its twitching. He hadn't felt a thing.

Peter didn't return to taunting and just let him forget. Mission accomplished.

Now done, the doctor announced he'd be going back to the lab-van to check on the samples, leaving you to sit awkwardly with your boss, co-worker, and the rest of the Guardians.

You look to the ceiling and sigh before saying, "Well I suppose I should offer you some tea if you're going to be here awhile."

Maria nodded that she'd take some and no sooner than you go to stand does Peter speak up and say, "Let me help-"

You give him a seething look that actually makes him recoil. "Unless you know how to make tea, fuck off. And even if you do, still fuck off. I don't need both arms to make fecking tea and I don't need your help. I'm not an infant." Your tone was even, but the venom was still there. A bit harsh, perhaps, but it sent the desired message. The whole situation was making you very cranky and maybe they shouldn't push it. At least for awhile until you had a chance to decompress.

Fury, however, shot you a disapproving look before you turned to put the kettle on, though he didn't say anything. He had pretty much expected this is how you might react.

The next half hour was mostly sipping tea and awkward attempts at conversation as everyone waited for the doctor to finish the test.

Yondu wasn't much interested in trying to make conversation, though he was surprised to find he didn't mind the tea. He was watching as you fiddled with your cup. You were quiet, and he thought you seemed nervous. Could you be nervous about the test results on that animal? Why? All evidence pointed to Rocket being completely fine, he hadn't been bitten, and that's what you said they had to worry about, right?

When the doctor finally returned he had good news. The raccoon had tested negative.

Yondu watched you visibly relax and it made him wonder if there was something you hadn't told them.

He was right. You were worried about the possibility of the raccoon's blood or saliva having found its way into one of the scratches or, more grossly, Rocket's mouth or eyes. If the raccoon had been infected, you knew those would be other possible ways Rocket still could have contracted the virus. You hadn't told the others because you hadn't wanted them to worry, but doing this only then made you worry. Not just because you didn't want to see even an asshole like Rocket die like that, but because you had told the others he'd be fine if he wasn't bitten, and that hadn't fully been the truth. It was a weight off your shoulders to hear that the test came back negative.

With that news Fury, Agent Hill, and the doctor were finally all able to leave. Fury stood and made eye-contact with Gamora. "Remember what I said, she steps out of line, disobeys the doctor's orders, you report back to us. Understood?"

Gamora nodded uneasily. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot and honestly wasn't looking forward to her assigned task, sure that it would only serve to piss you off.

Fury looked at you now. "Understood, Agent?"

You exhale irritably and say, "Yes, sir."

"Good. We'll be seeing you again next week."

You led them to the front door to let them out, but right before she walked out Maria turned to you with a smile and said, "Oh, almost forgot. Where did that new bed in Rocket's room come from?" She said it louder than necessary, no doubt to make sure that the others could hear the question being asked.

"Dammit, Maria!" you scold.

Fury now turned with a smirk, seemingly finally finding humor in the situation. "You know what. I changed my mind. I'd also like to know. Agent?"

You look to the ceiling with a pitiful look. Maria had only been joking, there wouldn't be any real consequences for refusing to tell her. Fury, however, was your boss, and if he wanted to be a dick about it, he could. Apparently your recent stunt with your injury had pressed his 'asshole' button. "I built it." you mutter.

Fury spoke in a tone louder than necessary, just to mess with you. "Sorry, Agent, I didn't catch that."

You glare at him and only speak up a little bit. "Said I built it, sir."

Fury chuckled, and spoke again in the louder-than-necessary voice, "Ah, you built the bed! What a nice thing to do, Agent!"

Rocket could be heard from the kitchen cheering, "I frickin knew it!"

You glared at your boss and coworker. "I hate you both so much."

Fury chuckled. "Goodbye, Agent."

"Goodbye, sir." you reply, promptly shutting the door.

You turn to see Rocket standing smugly in the kitchen doorway. Peter and Kraglin were standing behind him, appearing amused.

"Not a word." you say, barely looking at them as you made for the stairs.

Rocket laughed. "Oh, I was just going to ask if I should give my regards to you, or the faeries."

"Can't hear you!" you call back as you walk up the stairs.

"Come on now, that was a nice thing ya did!" Kraglin said, his tone teasing.

"Not listening!" you cry back as you climb higher, fully aware you were acting a bit like a child, but not caring in your pursuit to get away.

They heard your door shut and Kraglin turned to Peter to say, "She's an odd one, ain't she?"

"Yep."

***

Gamora felt uneasy. After conversing with the others about you, she had contacted Agent Hill on the communication device SHIELD had given them in case any issues arose. They were naturally concerned with how you kept to your room after the injury, and a few therefore worried that the injury was worse than you let on.

They could have just let you be, after you made it clear that you wouldn't accept their help, but after they saw you risk further injury to save their friend, she and Peter collectively decided they'd risk overstepping and contact SHIELD. You helped one of them, they'd help you. Even if you didn't want it, they felt you needed it.

What they hadn't expected was for Fury to be angry about it and, as a result, assign Gamora as your warden.

She talked with Peter in private, discussing what she should do about the situation. She didn't see the situation going well. You barely knew each other and you could be... well, stubborn might be an understatement. Eventually they agreed there was only one thing to be done. Just do it.

Or, at least make it look like she had every intention of carrying through without pissing you off to much. Sometimes people needed a little tough love for their own good, but Gamora knew if they crossed the line into overbearing things could go south real quick, and she didn't want to risk finding the tipping point that would make you make them leave. Being assigned someone to report back on you if you misbehaved was probably humiliating enough without them pushing it.

Now if they could only get Rocket on board.

You stayed in your room most of the day, but when you did come out to eat or to stretch your legs Rocket would throw teases at you, saying that you better stay in line if you didn't want Gamora to tell on you, and throwing taunts about the punishment Fury had threatened you with if you disobeyed the doctor's orders.

To their surprise, however, you just ignored him. You literally just didn't acknowledge him. Just walked about your business, and returned to your room without even a glance in his direction.

Then they realized it was only because you couldn't hear him. You had your earbuds in. Probably for the best, really.

Gamora's uneasiness eventually turned into relief when it became clear that you didn't hold a major grudge against her for squealing on you or her assignment from Fury. Based on your reaction earlier she had been worried that you'd focus your ire on her, but for whatever reason, you didn't seem to.

It was true, you didn't hold a grudge against her. Well, not after you had a chance to cool down about the situation, that is. Listening to music always made you feel better, so it helped your mood that you had kept your earbuds in for most of the day, (and let's be honest, it saved Rocket's ass too.) You took some time to reflect. Except for a period when you went for a walk to decompress, you stayed in your room and just thought about the situation. From what you had seen of Gamora, she probably only thought she was helping. Why she wanted to, you couldn't guess, but you just assumed she did. Fury was probably just trying to teach you a lesson, and you resolved to not let it get to you. You'd play the game, be good, and then he'd eventually get off your back. Easy.

After spending most of the day reflecting, you didn't feel as cranky as you had that morning. Yup, good old music and walking had done it's job to help your mood...

You hadn't made the connection that each of the three times Mantis came to your shared room to check on you, and would take your hand or place hers on your arm to ask how you were feeling, you felt a little more contented. You just assumed she was feeling affectionate and that you enjoyed her company.

Both of those were true, but Mantis had also been working her magic a little, wanting to see you cheer up but doing it in tiny doses so as to not ruin the practical joke Yondu had said would be real funny later if she didn't tell you about her abilities. She didn't know when the joke would be over, but she also didn't want to ruin it and disappoint her new friend.

Later that night you decided to break out a bottle of whiskey from the cellar. Try to get a buzz going. You brought it into the kitchen, asking those already at the table if they wanted any. Well, it was more like telling them that they knew where the glasses were if they wanted some, but still, an offer is an offer.

You sat down and poured yourself a glass as Peter grabbed a glass each for him and Gamora, and Kraglin fetched one for himself and Yondu.

Gamora was the first to speak. "I just wanted to aplogi-"

"No."

"What?"

"It's awkward enough without the apology. It's done. I'm sure you thought you were being helpful or something, but it's done."

Gamora raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well I-"

You sigh. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you're forgiven or whatever, but I don't want to talk about it. 'Kay?" you down your glass and pour another. "Don't kill my buzz before it's even started."

Peter started to speak up. "Well I feel Krags and I at least-"

You cut him off as well. "Same goes for you. We're not going to talk about it right now. It's done."

"Oh...kay..." Peter said, taking a sip. He attempted small talk after a bit. "So... how did you come about working for SHIELD?"

You sipped and shrugged before setting your glass down. "My dad was an agent, and I guess I followed in his footsteps." you say, toying with your glass. Eager to turn the conversation away from you, you asked, "How'd you lot go about becoming 'Guardians of the Galaxy'?"

That question had the desired effect. Peter started off the story by telling you how it actually all started with them getting thrown in prison over a stone and then breaking out of said prison together to locate said powerful stone that some dick called Ronan was going to use to wipe out an entire planet.

About a quarter the way through the story the rest of the Guardians came and the same offer was extended to them before you stood up and announced you should probably grab another bottle as the one you brought up was nearly empty.

Rocket piped up, "So where ya hide it anyway?"

You looked at him, confused and a little tipsy. Cocking your head you asked, "What?"

"The booze. You always seem to pull it out of thin air. Figured you were hiding it."

You blink at him while Peter scolded him for being dumb, a sentiment you now currently shared. You laugh and look at Gamora, who looked embarrassed by her friend. "Is he always this dumb?" Not waiting for an answer you turn back to Rocket. "It ain't hidden. Dipshit." You turn away to resume your task.

Rocket, offended that you would call him dumb, said, "If you ain't hiding it, why haven't we ever seen where you keep it."

Now Kraglin was giving him looks. Even if you were hiding it, it was your shit. You were already giving them a place to stay, you didn't owe them booze too. The rest were sure Rocket was just trying to get a rise from you, but the secondhand embarrassment was real.

You rolled your eyes but kept walking. It was most likely the alcohol, but you were actually finding humor in his stupidity. "It's in the cellar, space case. I won't stop you from tagging along. Make sure your mother signs the permission slip." With that you slipped out the kitchen door.

The guardians exchanged glances at your comment and Peter, who remembered school and field trips, said, "That was a joke. You wouldn't get it." He then stood up and said, "Might as well take the chance to see something new since we don't know how long we'll be stuck here." He then looked to Rocket and asked if he was coming, since technically the invitation had been extended to him.

Rocket, who had been clearly hoping for, or at least expecting, a fight, awkwardly followed in the direction you had left. Mantis and Groot stated they wanted to go see the cellar too, but the others opted to stay behind.

Seeing that four of them had actually decided to take up your mock-offer to come to the cellar, you waited for them to catch up. You honestly didn't care if they went into the cellar, as long as Groot didn't go down there to play, and you made a point to ask Peter to tell him that you didn't mind him coming down with the rest of you tonight, but he was under no circumstances to come down there to play as he could get hurt.

Rocket translated instead, seeming irritated that you had given the message to Peter instead of him, and you open the door start to walking down the stairs, the others trailing behind.

The cellar wasn't anything spectacular. The stairs were a bit creaky with age, and it was dusty and dim even with the light on. The walls were stone strung with cobwebs and the floor was made up of old red brick.

You reached the ground and led them to some shelves on the wall across from the boiler, to grab the whiskey. On the other wall next to the shelves was an old wooden door, but other than that, a few cans of paint, and another set of shelves on the far end of the cellar, it was largely empty. You didn't keep much down there due to the damp.

You turned back to face them once you grabbed a bottle and asked if Rocket was satisfied. You didn't recieve an answer, not like you had expected one anyway. Gesturing back to the whiskey you said to Peter that it was down here if they wanted it. You didn't care as long as they didn't get sloppy drunk and start wrecking shit on the regular.

Peter nodded and the four took in the sight of the cellar. Mantis looked like she regretted her decision to come down, and said it was a little creepy, and Groot seemed to share her opinion. Good. Would mean he wouldn't care to come play down there. Peter and Rocket, however, looked at the shelf behind you in surprise. There was... more whiskey than they had anticipated. A lot more.

"Not that it's any of my business, but why do you have so much whiskey down here?"

You turned back to the shelf. Remembering the reason combined with your tipsy state made you giggle as you answered honestly. "Decided to order a small case awhile back just to have a bit around. Might have ordered it drunk and messed up the size of the order... just a bit..."

'A bit' was an understatement. The whiskey didn't sit on just one shelf, but rather the whiskey took up a whole shelving unit. You had only meant to order one case. A case would have been maybe six bottles. Somehow you ended up ordering six cases, and of course there were no refunds. So, into the cellar with a few other assorted bottles it went. You didn't do any online shopping while drunk after that again.

Peter chuckled at your honesty and noticed the wooden door for the first time. He debated asking about it, it seemed oddly placed considering the layout of the house above, but Mantis beat him to it.

"Where does that door go?" she asked, pointing to it.

You look to the door and then back to them. "Closet," you say, before widening your eyes in mock realization to tease Rocket. "Oh right, better prove it before that one gets all suspicious again!"

Rocket narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, not thrilled with you making him the butt of a joke as you opened the door to reveal a small, dark closet, maybe a meter deep and just as wide. Pipe wrenches hung on hooks off the door, and inside was a bucket, a broom, and a shovel resting against a wall of shallow shelves which were empty aside from a few random tools and a couple lanterns.

You closed the door after a moment and to Peter's surprise you handed him the whiskey bottle you had retrieved and grabbed another. "Might as well grab two, save me a trip if we run out again," you explain before shooing them all up the stairs.

Once back in the kitchen you re-took your seat and poured yourself another glass before sliding the bottle towards the middle of the table for someone else to grab. "Alright, I believe you were telling a story now?" you say to Peter as he also sat down, seeming surprised you were still interested.

And you were. It was quite an interesting story and you had to admit it captured your attention quite well.

Before you knew it an hour had passed and the second bottle was finished between seven of you when they'd finished telling it. Mantis didn't like the taste and Groot wasn't permitted to have any, though fortunately he didn't seem to mind. Just sipped on some juice you had gotten up to pour for him and Mantis and played about on the table adorably as Peter told the story.

The Ronan guy had gotten the stone, but Peter and his team still won anyway, having managed to get the stone away from him. You had giggled when you realized that Peter had more or less described that they had used 'the power of friendship' to hold onto the stone, though he didn't seem as keen on that comparison. You were also surprised to learn that the little Groot before you wasn't the original Groot, but rather more like the original's son, and that Kraglin and Yondu weren't part of the team yet in this story, but actually the leaders of an almost adversary group of space pirates that had agreed to work with Peter with the promise of obtaining the stone for themselves. You wanted to ask about that, how they came about joining Peter's team and where the rest of their crew was, Ravagers you believed they were called, but before you could Yondu interjected.

"Yeah, I'd almost forgot about that switcharoo ya pulled with the stone, boy." Yondu said to Peter, who, now several drinks in, included that bit of the story despite the former captain and first mate sitting right at the table with him.

Peter chuckled nervously in response, and said in jest, "Well, you got a cool troll doll out of it, that's something, right?"

You snorted a short laugh out your nose at that, making the others turn to you in surprise. Aside from a few questions, you had been more or less quiet the whole time until now. "Troll doll?" you say, clearly tipsy, behind your hand. The thought was ludicrous to you. Of all the things, a troll doll.

Peter grinned, pleased to see you found it funny. "It was the only thing I had on hand that would fit in the orb." He admitted, giggling.

Gamora's eyes crinkled as she looked at Peter. She hadn't had nearly as much drink as him, but she still found his giggly nature and his ability to tell a story to be endearing. This was probably the most she had let herself relax since they arrived.

Kraglin lightheartedly punched Peter in the shoulder. He'd been angry when the "switcharoo" incident happened, but he'd since been given enough reason to get over it.

"You goofy cunt," you chuckled at Peter, standing from the table and grabbing the empty bottle to bin it.

Peter raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at you as you walked toward the bin. Had you just called him a 'cunt'?

The others shared surprised contemplative looks and Kraglin said, "I think that was a compliment?" He was unsure, but you hadn't exactly said it in a derogatory way, so perhaps it was?

You overheard him and said from the bin, "Eh. Close enough." You spared one final giggly glance towards the group before leaving the kitchen to use the bathroom.

Peter shrugged, correctly assuming that he shouldn't be offended and stood to put his now-empty glass in the sink before re-joining the table with the others.

They sat chatting for a bit longer, before they thought they heard the soft sounds of singing coming from the sitting room. Exchanging glances, Peter and Gamora decided to go check it out.

***

You didn't return to the kitchen after you finished your business. The story was finished and you were in a better mood than you had been that morning so you just made your way to the sitting room to relax in your rocking chair before your buzz could wear off.

You had been there just a few minutes with your eyes falling closed when the sensation of something crawling up your leg startled you. You jump slightly only to see it was Groot crawling into your lap. You then relaxed. Cute little bugger looked sleepy, and for whatever reason, decided he would crawl up into the rocking chair with you. You didn't mind, and even if you did, you were getting a little too sleepy to feel like wasting energy making him move.

He climbed up on your slinged arm, too light for the action to cause you any pain, and curled up as you rocked away.

You weren't sure what possessed you, likely the whiskey, but you started to softy sing him a lullaby. One you remembered your grandmother singing you to sleep with when you were little.

***

Gamora peeked in the doorway and stopped, seeing you in the rocking chair, though you didn't see her. The rocking chair faced the bookshelf on the opposite wall, putting your gaze perpendicular to her own.

You were the source of the singing, and it didn't take long for her to notice Groot curled up sleeping against you and to deduce that what you were singing was a lullaby.

The others had come to see as well, but Gamora motioned for them to be quiet and didn't let them get past the doorway, afraid that you would stop if you knew you had an audience.

"What is it?" Drax asked.

"I think she's singing a lullaby to Groot." Peter answered, turning to peek back through the doorway for a moment before stepping aside to let Drax see. Drax smiled warmly at the sight and motioned Mantis to take his spot.

Kraglin chuckled and whispered over to an equally amused Yondu, "Well ain't that precious."

"So what?" asked Rocket, annoyed that everyone was gathered by the doorway instead of entering. He was, however, definitely not jealous that Groot would have taken to you well enough to let you sing a lullaby to him. He was also definitely not irritated about the fact that Groot had aparently just fallen right asleep in your lap, when he had been having to deal with Groot fitting to go to sleep most nights due to being someplace new.

Gamora looked to him. "It's sweet."

"She ain't sweet, it's all an act. She don't really care."

"So it was an act when she shot that raccoon and saved your ass?" asked Peter, rolling his eyes at his furry friend.

Rocket threw up his arms in frustration, unwilling to admit the possibility of being wrong. "Probably! She don't really care about us. We're just an assignment to her. And I didn't need her help anyway."

Peter rolled his eyes again, and that's when they noticed the singing had stopped. They were too busy arguing to notice it had been getting softer and softer. Gamora peeked in again and saw that you had fallen asleep, and she whispered back to the group as such.

"Good. I'm putting Groot to bed." Rocket said, pushing through the others before they could say anything.

"Rocket!" Gamora hissed, finally entering the room herself along with Peter.

Rocket ignored her as he approached the rocking chair. Who did you think you were anyway, singing lullabies to Groot? You weren't his mother. He was the one raising Groot, he didn't need some Terran dickhead stepping in and playing 'mommy.' Rocket let his frustration get the better of his sense and instead of gently climbing to retrieve Groot, or asking someone else once he realized he wouldn't quite be able to reach, he decided to be an asshole and jump right into your lap, startling both you and Groot awake in the process.

"Ow! The hell?" you said groggily, rubbing your eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" Rocket said mockingly before walking off with a confused and groggy Groot.

The others gave him disapproving looks as they dispersed, not wanting to crowd the doorway any longer.

"You're a real asshole, ya know that?" Kraglin said before heading towards the stairs with Yondu. Rocket just ignored him.

Mantis, who also decided she would go to bed, said to Rocket as they climbed, "You're wrong, you know. She does care. I've felt it."

Rocket just rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever," before bounding up the rest of the stairs and to his room to put Groot down to sleep.

Peter and Gamora had decided to head back into the kitchen with Drax to clean up the forgotten empty glasses on the table, so by the time you got up and decided to head to bed yourself the hall was empty.

Too tired to do anything else, you decided to just go to bed. As you made your way up the stairs you remembered taking the others to the cellar and showing them what was behind the door, and wondered if you should consider getting a lock, just in case Groot disobeyed and decided to go play down there anyway.

They didn't need to find out what was behind the back wall of that closet.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 2

*Author's note*

And here is part 2. And that's all I've got of the Rock Angel for now. Hope you all enjoy this special binge read of the series. Soon enough the story will come to an end after a few more chapters (I've had the last chapter written for like 2 years now) but I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well as the binge reading I have provided for you all. Until next time, stay healthy, stay safe, and anyone getting their vaccines GOOD LUCK!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@simonedk

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@bohemiansweede

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@wormzteef

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

___________________________________________________________

*Meeting the new Rock Angel. Filming continues*

A few days later after bonding with the actors playing my boys, I came to any day of filming I could (outside of my album recording and touring with Queen and Adam). Now the boys promised me and I knew they would follow up with it, the young actress they got to play me in as a cameo for the Live Aid sequence.

I was talking with Miami when we both heard a knock and that's when Graham King came in.

"I've got her."

"Bring her in." I said. He opened the door wider and soon came in the young woman came in.

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes my dear come in." I said. She came in and took a seat on one of the producer's chair. "I wanted to speak to you guys privately about some things that have come up. But first I would like to know your name my dear girl."

"Ashley. My name's Ashley Johansson. But my friends call me Ash."

"Lovely to meet you Ash, from what I saw up there you—you blew me away."

"Uhh thank you. And can I just say I've been such a big fan of yours. My mum always played your first album on repeat every day when she'd take me to school. But I thank her for that cause your story has just been such an inspiration to not only me but her as well."

"I'm flattered Ash. I'm always happy to hear that I inspire people, even when I feel like I'm not really doing anything. All I do is just bring my music out into the world and try to give voice to things that other's don't deem important."

"That makes you an inspiration Mrs. Kline." She said.

"Oh please Ash darling, call me (y/n)."

"Okay....(y/n)."

"Now then straight to business. As you know Hollywood's always wanting to create biopics of anything and everything. And while I've been aware of both Queen's story as well as Elton's life being made into films. I've always been reluctant in getting my story out, but from what I saw a few days ago I feel like I might've found the right team to do just that. So my dear Ash, tell me this; who do you trust the most in Queen?" she looked at me confused but she soon realized just what I was doing.

"Brian was asking me tons of questions but that was the only question Roger ever asked me."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him, that.....All the members of Queen are my family. But if I had to pick, Roger has always seen each side of me. Whether it was the happiest moment of my life, or the darkest day. He's seen my true colors that none of the other band members had seen." I smiled softly and said.

"What happened after you said that?"

"He—he might not have wanted anyone to know but—I could swear I saw him wipe a tear from his eye." I smiled and lowered my head.

"That's my papa lion alright." I muttered. I looked back up to Graham and Ashley and continued, "After seeing the hard work you all have put into Queen's story, I've come to the decision along with my manager and former boss Miami, that I'm willing to sign off the rights to the film to you Graham King. And I want you my dear Ash to play me." They both looked at me in surprise.

"You're—you're serious? You-you want me to play you?"

"I can think of no other person. My uncle and father figures chose well. They—after all knew me better than I knew myself." I heard Miami chuckle softly.

"Thank you (y/n)."

"But there are conditions that I seriously must emphasize on."

"Whatever you want."

"Okay first; I will be heavily involved with the project."

"Done." He said.

"Second, there are some events I will allowed to be shown. But I absolutely refuse to have the stalking episode I was forced to suffer with be heavily shown. It can be touched on but I want nothing else about it in the film. It was hell for my family and my children were scarred for almost ten years, especially my daughter."

"It was horrifying. In my Folklore and true crime class, someone actually did a story on him in the aspect of why celebrity stalking should've been taken more into consideration." Ash said. I closed my eyes heavily trying to compose myself when I felt a hand grasp mine.

"If anything more is spoken about in regards to my Angel's stalker, the project will immediately be terminated." Miami said. I turned to him and he looked at me and nodded firmly as he patted my hand comfortingly.

"The writer's will be informed on it immediately."

"And in regard to Queen's casting, make sure that those four young boys are involved with the project. I love all four of them, they are—everything I remember when I first worked with Queen."

"It shall be done. After this film wraps up and the premiere at Wembley Stadium, you and I can meet at Abbey Road to discuss further more on the project and all the rights that need to be signed." Graham told me.

"Graham King, you've got yourself a deal." We both shook on it. A pact forged that a movie about the Rock Angel would come to place.

Months passed and I was busy touring alongside Queen and Adam for a time, up until Brian decided to pop in on set for a surprise visit. He told me that the boys were now filming the Rockfield farm studio scenes. Now this was one filming session I definitely didn't want to miss.

Brian and I drove up to the location in Hertfordshire, a charming little place known as Stocker's farmhouse and cottage. Since the real Rockfield farm studios wasn't suitable for filming, and ridge farm closed down back in 2003, Stocker's was the only place left.

Coming up onto the filming location, I began to see it looking sorta similar to what Rockfield was when I had used it earlier in my career.

"The studio definitely chose the perfect setting I must say." I said to Brian who was driving.

"Indeed. When the lads and I first came to Rockfield farm we couldn't believe that that was what Fred had in mind."

"But the wide open spaces sure do provide little to no distraction. Guess that's what made a Night at the Opera so successful to you guys."

"You really think so?"

"I know that's how it was for my first album. Plus why do you think your 5th album is the most talked about in regard to your earlier works."

"Suppose you do have a point." He shrugged. After about ten minutes of driving through the country roads, we finally arrived at the farm and the barn house there made me think of the real Rockfield farm studios.

"Not quite the same but the atmosphere of it just brings back memories doesn't it?"

"It does indeed. Shall we go surprise them?"

"Yes, lets." He shut the car off and we both exited the car. We walked towards the barn house where the guys must already be filming right about now since there wasn't really anyone outside. Once we got up to the door, Brian slowly and quietly opened the door but gestured me to go in first.

"Oh lady's first." He said.

"Thank you." I walked inside and Bri followed behind me. Inside I saw some of the crew walking around setting some stuff up. All around it was like the actual recording studio Rockfield farm had. From all the pictures I remember seeing in either magazines or even Brian himself, it was like I was transported back in time to when Queen recorded "A Night at the Opera".

"You know some of those amps and even Roger's kit we used at the time are here."

"Really? So you and Rog donated some of the actual gear?"

"Yep. Since the fans will be nitpicky about certain aspects it's just a fun little way to give them a taste of some of the real equipment. Even Red's here."

"No way. No wonder why you've been using those Red special copies throughout the tour. But Bri are you sure it's okay? I mean I know how protective you are of Red."

"She's been in the best of care."

"Right, right with your mini-copy. I swear even out of the wig and the clothes I can still see you in Gwilym. Are you sure you didn't have another child with a different woman besides Chrissie?"

"I'm positive." He assured me.

"Oh and speak of the devil there's your clone now. Why don't you go say hi while I go find the rest of the little rascals." I patted his shoulder and walked off. As I walked along I saw a familiar figure wearing a long blonde hair sitting next to another young man wearing long auburn hair that went past his shoulder.

I shook my head and walked up to them saying.

"God I swear it's like I transported back in time to 1975." They looked up and proclaimed my name. I was soon tackled in a sandwiched by Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were touring?" asked Ben.

"I was. But Brian decided to do a little surprise visit so I figured since I missed seeing you four so much, I figured I'd tag along and see how it's coming along. So what all have you done since I was last here?"

"We did a scene in Miami's office to represent Queen getting back together before Live Aid, a concert at Madison Square Garden, and the recording studio scene with Mike Myers." Joe explained.

"Now for the next couple of weeks we'll be doing some of the Rockfield farm recordings as well as the Bohemian Rhapsody music video, when Freddie joins Smile, and the "I want to Break free music video." Ben finished.

"Oh now that last one I've got to see for myself." I said grinning ear to ear. "I'll bet you four are gonna rock the drag look just like my boys did. Especially you Ben." I teased as I gently pinched his cheek.

"Yeah Benjamin I can't wait to see you in that skirt." Joe teased as well pinching his other cheek.

"Alright, alright you two enough." He said brushing our hands away and trying to contain his blush. I giggled softly.

"When that day comes, do I got some stories to share with you all about that day."

"We look forward to hearing them." Said Joe.

"And I look forward to telling them. Just let me know if you boys ever get bored of an old woman ranting on about the past."

"Never (y/n). We could never be bored of you. We love having you here, you've given us a lot of support and advice for playing your coworkers and family members." Ben said as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah. We could never get bored of you. The day we get bored of you is the day the four of us stop being Queen fanatics. And this movie only keeps increasing our fandom tenfold each and every day." Joe said as he leaned up against my other shoulder.

"Aww you boys are sweet." I kissed Ben's cheek first which made him blush and softly chuckle.

"You lucky dog! I wanna Rock Angel smooch!"

"Then pucker up Joey dear." He puckered up his lips and I leaned in but at the last second I kissed his cheek which made him pout like a child. I laughed and said. "Sorry my dear, but my lips are reserved for one man."

"Can't blame a guy for trying though right?" he asked hopefully.

"No. I guess not. Now Benjamin, if you'll come with me real quick I would like to spend a little one on one time with you." I wrapped an arm around him when Joe said.

"Better not seduce him away from me!"

"Please Joe dear like I'd ever steal a man from you!" I cried back at him. We walked outside and walked towards the cottage. "Ben I've been wanting to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"When we first met; I had mentioned that I was looking forward to seeing you play the drums, but I noticed that you seemed a bit—tense." He froze right there on the spot. I turned towards him and stood in front of him. "Benjamin. Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Well I—uhh.....when I, when I went to auditioned I—might've said that I......knew how to play the drums. But I've....never drummed a day in my life."

"So you lied? You lied and ended up getting the part of playing my only father figure in the world?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry (y/n) I just really wanted the job. But I worked hard and trained over ten hours a day in the 8 weeks rehearsal time before we shot Live Aid. I just love Queen so much and I—"

"Ben." I pressed my finger to his lips. "Relax. I knew you lied the second day of filming. Roger told me."

"Did he mention the prank that Rami tried to pull on me?" I nodded as I hummed. "Damn rat."

"Oh trust me. When it comes to certain secrets, Roger cannot keep them forever. Especially when his lion cub gets involved in wanting to know." I removed my finger and cupped underneath his jawline. "But when I saw you perform the entire Live Aid sequence, it hardly seemed like you hadn't drummed a day in your life. While I don't condone for liars, I appreciate that you took the time to study just how exactly Roger drums."

"It wasn't easy. But he was supportive and he even gave me a mini drum lesson. Of course he had to step back and say 'alright. Show me what you got'."

"That's exactly like Roger. He always did the same to me whenever he gave me a drum lesson. I remember when he taught me how to play 'Don't stop me now' back when I was an intern and he told me to play it all the way through."

"Jesus that's rough."

"Depends on how you look it. Guess I got on the lighter end than you did cause he's always had a soft spot for me. But his heart's always in the right place when he mentors. Just ask his son Rufus. That boy takes everything after his father. Not just his looks but his talent too."

"Yeah. Roger has given me some good pointers on how to strike the cymbals on a certain song. Or how to properly spin the drumsticks."

"Knowing how to keep the heartbeat going. The drums are the center of the band. If one beat is off, the entire song can go to shit."

"That was always his number one rule to playing the drums. Drilled that into my head every time." I sighed reminiscing the old days of my tutorial sessions with my dad. "So he really was like your father?"

"Yeah. Out of all the members of Queen, Roger was the one I was drawn to the most. It also helped that he loved me just as much as I did him. Always there to comfort me at my lowest moments, but there to celebrate and keep me grounded when I was higher than a kite. Roger Taylor has and will always be my papa lion."

"That's so cute you guys called each other that. Anytime you came up in conversation, Roger always called you his lion cub."

"Either that or his lioness. Lioness is more for the moments when my true strength comes into play and I do something world changing. Lion cub is like a private thing between us. God I can't believe I confessed to him being a lion to me when I was drunk. But if I'm being honest, I don't regret it."

"I can see you don't, my little lion cub." I looked at him and he just gave me Roger's cheeky grin and that familiar twinkle in his eyes just made my heart flutter.

"Cheeky." I grinned. He smiled and shrugged playfully.

Yeah I know he may not look exactly like Roger when I met him but there are some mannerisms that Ben has that just made me think of my adoptive father.

We continued to walk into the cottage cause I wanted to see what they did to the inside of it. There I saw Rami sitting by the piano in the now wearing the long black hair that Fred had at the time. Jesus without the tache, he looked more like Freddie than I could ever imagine.

However that happiness soon turned to dread and absolute disgust as soon coming right beside Rami was a young man who looked like someone who I had loathed my entire life. The one man who made my life a living hell throughout my years with Queen, the poison who nearly destroyed Queen and exposed my secret to the boys.

It was Paul Prenter.

Rami and Paul were chatting away with each other and I felt sick to my stomach.

"(Y/n)? You okay?" Ben asked me.

"Excuse me." I muttered as I passed him. I trudged right over towards Rami and shielded him. "Stay. Away. From him you snake!"

"E-excuse me?" he asked confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." Typical Prenter.

"Don't play games with me Prenter! You might've fooled Freddie once but you will not do it again! I lost him because of you. You ruined his life! And I swear to you I will make you pay for it. I'm not that little girl anymore!"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n) calm down. He's not really Paul Prenter." Rami tried to reason with me.

"Freddie please I'm doing this to protect you!" I then gripped the collar of Paul's shirt and dragged him aside. "You lying son of a bitch! How dare you show yourself again!"

"Wait! Wait I'm not Paul Prenter!"

"STOP LYING TO ME!!!"

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) (M/N) KLINE LET. HIM GO!!" I turned to see Brian as well as Joe, Gwilym and Ben along with some of the crew staring at me. Brian stomped towards me and pulled me away from Paul and he said to me in a stern voice. "The real Paul Prenter is dead. He's been dead just as long as Freddie has. That's an actor playing him. Alan Leech."

My adrenaline came down and when I looked at 'Prenter' again to see that it wasn't the Paul Prenter I knew. For one thing this guy was much younger, the tache wasn't as thick as Paul's was, and his eyes weren't as cold as I remembered Prenter's, they shown with absolute fear.

Oh god.....what have I done? I collapsed to the ground trembling with regret as tears formed in my eyes. I buried my face into my arms as I softly wept. It was then I felt Brian's arms wrap around me, his head gently resting on top of mine as he rocked me slowly while I wept.

*3rd Person POV*

Rami, Joe, Gwilym and Ben looked at each other before turning towards Allen who spoke not a word but was just as worried as the four main ensemble cast was. Rami first tried to approach (y/n) but Brian looked up at him and put his hand up and shook his head.

After she went silent, Brian helped her stand up and he walked her over to the car. He allowed her to just sit there and have some time to herself. Once he shut the door, the young actors walked up to Brian and Joe asked.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"With time. Allen I apologize ever so much but you can't blame (y/n). The real Paul Prenter he—put her through hell when she started off as an intern. One thing he did was extremely unforgivable that I don't see why we ever kept him around."

"Brian, she uhh—I know I shouldn't say this but when she was trying to defend me from Paul, she—actually called me Freddie." Brian sighed solemnly and said.

"She still blames herself."

"What do you mean?" asked Gwilym.

"Come with me lads." Brian led them over to the cottage porch and all of them sat down along either the railings, the porch swing or on the two chairs that were out. "As you know everyone in Freddie's life suffered after his death. Some of us still grieve the way we do like Roger and myself. And there are some who became so fragile like Deacy. (Y/n).....she's always lied on the in between stage. She misses Freddie beyond anything no mistake about that, but then there are days when she blames herself."

"Blames herself?" Rami asked.

"Yes. See, when Freddie first told us that he was diagnosed with AIDS. He wanted to keep it away from (y/n), because her career was skyrocketing, plus she had her own family to look after with Kelly and the twins. Freddie didn't want her to worry about him, but one year when we were all in Montreux recording our last album Innuendo, (y/n) allowed us to stay at a vacation house of hers that she had there. That's when she began to deduce just what was wrong with Fred. He told Roger and myself that the poor dear had blamed herself for not being there for him. Because—well truthfully there was a fallout with Queen and the Rock Angel for a time. Now whether we make that into the film is unknown I know writers are always doing rewrites. But she felt like had she stepped up to Prenter or held onto Freddie just a bit longer before turning her back on him, he would've been alive today."

"Jesus." Muttered Ben.

"Poor lass." Allen muttered.

"But she couldn't have known. None of you did."

"And we didn't. Because Fred didn't want anyone to know. It was his personal business and his alone. And although (y/n) says she accepts that it wasn't her fault, there are some days where she says it is. And any reminder of it just sometimes makes her snap."

"I don't blame her. I—I know exactly what she's going through because of my dad's illness. Anything regarding glioblastoma and I just freak out. But—thanks to these guys I.....don't know where I would be."

"We're here for you mate." Gwil said as he patted Joe's knee.

"So you see guys, this film is bringing back a lot of memories for her. Good and bad. So Allen I really hope you don't take offense to what just happened."

"Not at all Brian. Besides after hearing and probably thinking what the real Paul Prenter did, no wonder why she would get defensive around Rami. I hold no grudge against her."

"Thank you. Just—give her time to cool down and then you all can go see her." The five boys nodded in agreement and took the guitarist's word.

*My POV*

After a while once I calmed down and decided I needed to find young Allen Leech and apologize for my erratic behavior. I got out of the car and dapped my eyes with a handkerchief and walked towards the barn.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. We're—not sure it's a good idea for you to be here right now." Said one of the crew members. That's understandable, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"It's not that we don't want you here it's just that, well after seeing what happened between you and Mr. Leech. We—think it'd be best if you were to not be on the set for a while." I sighed and said.

"I understand. I was way out of line. But—can you please express my deepest apologizes to Mr. Leech. As well as the boys."

"You can tell me that yourself." An Irish voice spoke up. It was then I looked up to see the five boys themselves.

"You're not going anywhere." Said Rami.

"Mr. Malek, we....."

"We heard what you said dear. Now step away from our Rock Angel so that the six of us may talk." He came up and took my hand and the boys took me into the cottage.

We came into the kitchen area and Rami gestured for me to sit down. Joe pulled out a chair and I sat down while the boys surrounded me.

"Boys; I—what you all had to witness, I have no excuse for my behavior. I am ashamed that you all had to see me act like that. Especially you Allen dear. I—hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me."

"I do. Seeing me remind you of someone who—was just known to be such an arsehole and black sheep in Queen's circle, I can see why you acted the way you did. I would've done the same thing too had I seen someone I hate come back and standing before someone who was once a dear friend of mine." Allen said. He came up to me and extended his hand.

"Why don't we forget this whole mess ever happened and start over? Hello Rock Angel, my name's Allen Leech." I looked up at him and smiled as I took his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Allen darling. And please like I've told these guys, call me (y/n)." he smiled and that's when I stood up and hugged Allen and he hugged me back.

"Aww now that's sweet." Rami cooed.

"We're all friends now." Joe said with a smile.

"Yes. We're all friends. Now get in here you lot, group hug boys!" they all laughed and cheered as we all came together and group hugged each other. Forming a new bond and a new start with one another.

Thankfully the studio actually managed to let me stay the rest of the day after that whole fiasco (all thanks to the boys but mostly Allen for agreeing to not press charges on me for assault). Of course they warned me that with another outburst like that, not only would I not be allowed on set again, my consultant position would be taken away.

So I was more well behaved than usual after hearing that I would be kicked off the set.

Right now the lads were recording Gwilym's bit for the guitar solo, but what was cool was that the crew decided to allow Brian to play the solo for the fun of it. So as the playback of Freddie's voice came on, Gwilym stepped aside while Brian came in his spot and began playing his guitar solo.

I stood beside Gwilym as we both observed Brian playing the famed Bohemian Rhapsody guitar solo. I even took my phone out and took a video of what was going on. After the solo, Gwilym walked over to Brian and I made sure to get both of them in the shot.

"That's brilliant. I love that." Rami's voice spoke as Freddie from the other side of the recording studio.

"So now what?" asked Gwilym.

"The operatic section." Said Rami. Both Gwilym and Bri nodded. A grin spreading across Gwilym's face as he muttered.

"Ah-huh. The operatic section. Good."

"Of course." Brian said. Jesus just seeing them like this and hearing the same voice come out of them, it really was like we took Bri back from 1975 and brought him here.

When Dexter Fletcher called cut, I stopped my video and said.

"Oh man Jack's gonna flip when he sees this."

"Is he ever gonna come by for a visit?" Brian asked me.

"Yeah I myself would like to meet the famous Jack Kline." Joe said from the other side of the booth.

"Well unlike us where we know when our schedules begin, law enforcement doesn't get days off. Especially when he's going for the Chief's chair. But who knows maybe he might come by for a day if not a few hours."

"I hope so. It's been awhile since we've seen that husband of yours." Brian told me.

"Yeah, I know. Jack misses coming in every day just like the old days."

"I'll bet he does. Or he just misses seeing the love of his life perform and rehearse. Back in the day when you kids first started dating, he'd always have that puppy love look in his eyes as he watched up on stage. Remember the time in Seattle?"

"That was in Houston, Bri. If you're meaning the time he was so distracted by watching me that he almost ended up tripping over the stage, that was in Houston, Texas."

"Oh yeah that's right."

"Alright we've had our fun, now let's do this for real. Gwilym get to your mark. Brian and (y/n), gonna have to ask you both to get out of the shot frame please."

"Good luck Gwilym dear." I said as I gave him a peck on the cheek for luck as Brian handed him his original red special and we both walked out of the frame and stood behind the camera.

The day continued on filming the boys recording the famed song that this movie was named after and I swear to you, it was like I was seeing history happen. Like I was transported back in time to the summer of 1975 and seeing my boys (just five years before they even became my boys, back when I was just one of their millions of fans) record one of my favorite albums.

And even seeing the struggle and perfectionism that Freddie had for this song. Rami truly brought Freddie's perfectionist behavior right onto the camera and it just—had me bewildered. It was like I was seeing Freddie again, hard at work on his masterpiece.

After a long day's filming, Brian and I unfortunately had to head back to the city to actually record an album together that he was helping me produce. Since touring was over for now, the boys and I (yes including Adam) we were all focusing on our solo stuff now till the next tour came around.

And since Bri had some free time after working with a talented young woman, I had asked him to come help produce my latest album 'Resurrection'. Ever since hearing about the Queen film and also hearing that Elton as well was going to make a biopic film, the title was named in honor of their upcoming films.

Because it would show a whole new generation of audiences what their stories were and show them that like a phoenix, Queen and Elton will resurrect because you can't keep down true legendary artists.

So for about 2 weeks Brian helped produce the album and of course he and I would post on our Instagram accounts both pictures of brief videos of some behind the scenes stuff of our partnership together.

"And there she is. Working diligently as ever." I heard Bri said. I looked up from my I-Pad to see him holding his phone, probably taking a video for his collection package he likes to do on certain events on his Instagram.

"Yes and I thought you'd be helping me too."

"I am. I'm your publicity for now, then I'll go back to being your producer." I smiled and laughed as Brian chuckled. He turned his phone onto him as he spoke to his Instagram followers, "As you can see we're both working extremely hard. Now we can't give too much away, but you can expect this album to be just as powerful as her previous albums in the past."

"But we unfortunately have to go now, our special guest on the album has just arrived and like Bri said, I never give away spoilers." I said as I came in the shot now.

"Okay well you heard the Angel ladies and gents, this is us signing off till next time. Bye."

"Bye!" Brian turned off the video camera and exited his account. And just as he pocketed his phone away, my special guest came in through the doors.

"(Y/n)!"

"Pink, my sister how have you been?" Yep you read right. I had reached out to the one and only Pink to come sing a duet with me. For years since she came up on the market, people have confused our voices cause she and I had the same powerful low range vocals.

Our first time doing a duet was—oh gosh I wanna say very early 2000's. I wanna say even just shortly after the 9-11 attack. I wanted to bring up an album that would spark some life and hope into the people of America, my in-laws especially cause when we lost Jared and Gen, the whole family felt like it was gonna come apart.

I auditioned several young female artists to sing along with me but their voices just either weren't right for the album or they sounded too nasally. But when this young woman at the time, an artist barely known came along, it blew me away at how our voices could mold well together.

So with me singing in a higher range and her taking the low range we launched the song 'Death by bombs, (live by hope)'. It was at the #1 charts in America for the entirety of the New York cleanup and became a national anthem. Pink and I were even asked for several years to sing the song every 9-11 for about 9 years.

Now here we are again six years after our last collaboration.

"You ready to do this?" I asked her.

"Angel, I was born ready. Anytime to sing with you is always gonna be a good one."

"Alright then ladies, step into the booth and let's get this song rolling."

"You got it Brian." Pink said enthusiastically as she and I walked with an arm wrapped around each other's shoulders and we walked into the booth together to begin our work.

Another week passed and when I received a message from Ben Hardy telling me that they were about to start filming my all time favorite music video 'I want to break free' I was on the first flight back to England (since I was recording the album in America) to see the shooting for myself.

I walked through the studio and everything came flooding back. The extras in the cow patterned leotards, the design of the music video set but it wasn't until I saw Joe dressed in the same granny attire that Deacy wore that hit me with pure nostalgia.

"Oh my god nana Johanna I did not know you were still alive." I said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, yeah hahaha very funny." Joe sneered.

"No, no Joe don't take my comment as an insult. You look—every ounce from what I remember Deacy looking like the day I came by with my wedding invitations."

"You were passing out wedding invitations during this music video?" he asked me. I nodded with a hum.

"Jack and I decided to come by to see the guys cause I wanted to deliver their invitations personally. And also ask them to walk me down the aisle since—well you probably know."

"Yeah I get it." He said as he came up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "So you really think I looked exactly like John did?"

"Absolutely. All that's missing is a crying girl crying out 'where's daddy! Where's daddy! That's not my daddy'."

"Okay this could be my dirty mind but that sounded—" I playfully slapped him in the back of the head.

"You're right to get your head out of the gutters young man! I was referring to his daughter Laura. I mean I wasn't there to see it, but Veronica had told me just shortly after the shoot that she had brought the kids over to see their father. Of course Michael and Robert were hysterical with laughter, but poor little Laura who was only 4 at the time was crying cause she didn't recognize her dad."

"Awww well if you wanna recreate it, I can call my sister and get my niece on Facetime to see if it'll work."

"As much as I would love to see that, let's not scar your niece up for life. But yeah, Laura kept denying that the old granny was her dad. Until he took off the wig and she recognized her daddy's fluffy hair."

"That is literally the most adorable thing I've ever heard."

"I know. Laura was a sweet kid. She was the one most attached to me when I first met her. She even recreated a bit of my song for my birthday when she was just 3 years old."

"Okay (y/n) seriously stop you're gonna give me cavities at this point." I laughed and said.

"Alright now show me the rest of the boys, I want to see them."

"They all look amazing. Except for Ben." I looked at him skeptically but he just took my hand and led me towards the kitchen part of the set. There I saw Rami by the table in the pink shirt and leather black skirt, sporting the 1950's hairdo and nails that Freddie wore that day. Gwilym by the fridge in the pink nightie and bunny slippers, along with the curlers, and of course Ben in the 'Rogerina' getup.

The same style wig, the schoolgirl outfit with the leggings, the heels. Wow he looked more of a Rogerina than the real Roger did for this music video.

I let out a wolf whistle and that's when the three of them turned towards me.

"Rogerina has returned. The women who makes men drool at her feet and women turn for her. And if my son Freddie were here, honey you would most certainly turn him."

"God (y/n) please stop embarrassing me." Ben whined.

"I shall not. My cousin Rogerina was the talk of the town back home. Of course along with Aunt Brianna and Fairy godmother Frida."

"Is that what you really called the guys when you saw them like this?" asked Gwilym.

"Who do you think started the trend names? Freddie's was—kinda last minute since....well due to certain things going on at that time. But really you guys, I love each and every one of you."

"I'm still disappointed in Ben's look." Joe bluntly stated.

"And why's that?"

"His thighs are too big. Too much rugby."

"Yes Joe I know. I've been trying to slim down as best I could but these thighs man!"

"Not everyone can please everybody Ben. But trust me when I say, fans will love this and will love you as Rogerina. Plus I think you look absolutely beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Hell yeah. You're still prettier than I am."

"Oh come on now that's never gonna happen. You are an eternal beauty."

"That's what I've been telling her for years." A voice said behind us. No way. It—it couldn't be. I turned around and my ears weren't deceiving me at all.

Dressed in grey shirt with a dark color blazer and dark blue jeans, the greying of his once blonde hair but those warm eyes of his were unmistakable. A wide smile spread across my face as I laughed out and walked towards him.

"Jack!" I hugged him and he hugged me back. I separated but kept my arms wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"The case got solved so I figured might as well put some time off and see just what you and Freddie were talking about. So I called up Roger and asked him where the filming was at, and here I am."

"Ohhh you." I leaned forward and we gave each other a loving kiss.

"Awww." We separated from each other and I cleared my throat.

"Whoa. Okay did we just transport back in time?" asked Jack.

"No love. Boys, I'd like you to meet my husband and the love of my life for over 30 years, Jack Kline. Jack, this is Rami Malek, Gwilym Lee, Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy." I pointed to each of the actors individually.

"It's a pleasure to meet you boys." Jack said with a wave.

"Believe us, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Kline. Brian, Rog and (y/n) have told us many stories about you." said Rami.

"Oh god, if Roger was telling the stories he made me look bad didn't he?" I playfully slapped his chest.

"Not all the time." replied Ben.

"In all seriousness, I must say.....wow this is....."

"I know right? Oh darling just wait till you see the Live Aid sequence Brian managed to record. Don't they just look the part?"

"Yeah. So much so that it's almost scary."

"Ohh and Jack dear, you remember back when George and Jackson were obsessed with Jurassic Park?"

"Lord do I ever. They practically ruined the tape." He said with a groan.

"Well—Joe here, played the young boy Tim in the film." I then saw Jack's jaw drop as he turned towards Joe.

"So you're—you were....."

"Yep. I was little Tim Murphy in Jurassic Park. My first major gig that got my name out there."

"Wow. And seeing you now dressed like this it—you look so much like him." Jack said in awe. I turned to Joe with a 'told you so' look.

"Yeah it was scary to see just how much I looked like him. I even asked my mom if she was up to anything around 1983." Jack laughed.

The rest of the day was spent seeing the boys perform the music video, as well as a couple more stage concerts from both the 70's and 80's. When Jack got to see these four young actors in full Queen costume and hair/makeup, he was blown away. As we were in the back of the extras who were the crowd, Jack kept his arms around me as we watch in awe.

His head leaning against mine as we watched Rami literally become Freddie with every strut, head turn and bent back, se saw Gwilym play a model of the red special guitar just how Brian is known for, Ben working hard in the back with the drums literally playing just like how Roger is known to play. But I know that out of the four of them, Jack was beyond amazed at seeing Joe Mazzello play his former mentor and idol John 'Disco' Deacy.

His bass playing and even doing the funky little moves that John as known to do on a more upbeat song like 'Fat Bottomed girls,' or 'We will Rock you'. We clapped along with the extras and cheered for them. I knew that with what I've seen so far, this movie was going to be—sensational. Just like the band themselves.

Later that night after wrapping for the day, Jack and I were now at home getting ready for bed.

"So, what did you think of it?"

"They picked the right actors. And the right team to work on it. You were right (y/n)."

"Of course I am." I teased.

"Don't get cheeky with me love, you know what I mean. This movie it—it's everything I hoped it would be. I just wonder if—he would've loved it." I looked at my husband empathetically and said so

"He does." I looked out towards the window up at the stars and continued, "They both do." I felt Jack wrap his arm around me and the two of us cuddled up close together and fell right asleep after a long and busy day.

[sgt-nerd-plays]

Grand Waaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.”

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position.

He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness!  [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all.  [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee.

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner.

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

[thenuclearweaselhaslanded]

Grand Waaaagh!

Long time, no battle reports. Sadly, there’s been a bit of a global pandemic going around and being a responsible member of the community, I’ve been avoiding big gatherings that might spread the plague. However, your old sarge has been vaccinated, so with the help of likewise protected people, I was able to get a game in. This time, I was able to bring my ork army. Not just orks, but a whole stompa!

The Stompmost

Game Setup:

The idea was that it was going to be a more casual game where we would bring a bunch of models, play on on oversized board, and just kinda slam minis together with a bit of objective holding as a treat.

I was, of course, playing orks, and bringing 2000 points, plus the stompa. My partner was playing Alpha Legion, and bringing 1000 points. On the other side, we had one person bringing 2000 points of Crimson Fists (Hi Ryolnir!) and another person bringing 1000 points of Grey Knights (Hi, Zuul!) Thanks to Ryolnir for providing several of the pictures used in this batrep.

I brought Ghaz, a warboss on warbike, a weirdboy, five meganobz trukkboyz, a trukk (for carting around said trukkboyz), two mobs of boyz (11 and 14 models in each), a dakka jet, five warbikers, and one of each of the non-HQ buggies, plus an extra scrapjet. Except I’m an idiot and forgot one scrapjet and the dragsta, so I had to borrow a scrapjet from the game club’s cabinet, and a wartrike which stood in for the dragsta. I played as Evil Sunz, though several of the units (the bikeboss and the trukk) were Death Skulls and the dakkajet was painted up as Bad Moonz. I know, I’m terrible, but the rest of my army was wysiwyg.

My Narrative:

Warboss Scragkill Gudluk revved his warbike impatiently. Somewhere there was a scrap, and he was anxious to get to it. However, he’d been separated from his mob. And if that wasn’t bad enough, da Boss had shown up, along with a bunch of red-painted gits.

Ghazghkul Mag Uruk Thraka, prophet of da Waaagh, was giving orders. “Awright, we needs t’get into dis fight quick, so I want you an’ yer other evil sunz t’haul yer guts like they was on fire, you got it?”

“Er, beggin’ yer pardon, but I ain’t no Sunz. I’m Death Skulls!” Scragkill slapped the side of his blue bike proudly.

Ghazghkull responded by smacking him on the side of the head so hard he fell off of the bike and skidded several yards.

When Scrag managed to hobble up and lean unsteadily against the side of the bike, Ghaz asked “What was dat?”

“Er, da red ones go fasta?” Scrag said uncertainly.

“Dat’s what I likes t’hear. Now, we’ll send in da big lad first.” Ghaz craned his neck to look up at the stompa, with its grot rigger crew scrabbling atop getting it ready for waaagh. “I gots a good feelin’ about dis.” 

Da Waaagh approaches!

Our deployment zone was in one quarter of the table, minus a nine inch radius from the center. I pushed the stompa up as far as I could. Its only real hope was to get to the astraeus before it lost too many wounds. Most of the Alpha Legion units were in Deep Strike, ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

The Emperor Protects! As does this wall! [Credit: Ryolnir]

The knights player put his entire army into deep strike. The fists player, on the other hand was deployed a bit more defensively than my orks. If only I'd been so smart. He ended up going first, and he immediately popped the stompa. Its work done, the astraeus returned with full honors to its cabinet, where it would do me no further harm, since it was obviously going to be a really short game if it had stayed on the table.

However, this caused some follow-on effects for both of us. Because he'd hidden his stuff, he didn't have angle with a lot of his stuff turn one. On the other hand, I couldn't get anything into charge range that turn, and most of my shooting couldn't target his stuff either. I managed to take out an assault intercessor squad, but that was pretty much it. My partner's maulerfiend was stuck in the back of a bad traffic jam with my warbikers. This meant turn one was spent mostly untangling this while his units got into firing position. 

 He did have a good firing line on one of my units: The trukk I'd hidden to the side of the stompa, sadly only mostly out of line of sight. It was popped, and I lost one of my trukkboy meganobz on the disembark.

Da Real Treasure Was the Dakka We Found Along Da Way. [Credit: Ryolnir]

I was able to get a couple of buggies into line of sight with his melee infantry, however, and I was able to take out one unit of assault intercessors with my snazzwagon and boostablasta. Meanwhile, my two deffdreads were trundling forward to get their claws on something tasty. At the far side of the board you can see my meganobz trying to get into cover until they could make their way to a scrap.

Bullets! My only weakness!  [Credit: Ryolnir]

The grey knights teleported in, taking the fight to me at the midpoint on the board. Meanwhile, the crimson fists player moved his units forward out of hiding and began taking things down. The buggies folded quickly under some shooting from his speeder and aggressors.

On the other side of the board, the meganobz wilted under the knights' shooting and smites. Ghaz lost four wounds to the psychic onslaught.

Yo yo yo! It’s Grandmaster Dreadknight, and I’m here to rap about how the Emperor saves, novitiates!

However, now it was time for waaaagh! A bit of shooting took out a few of the vanvets, and then the deff dreads ran up and gave the last three a nice hug, turning them into crimson smears.

Where did da humies go, George?

Ghaz, the bikeboss, and the bikers all charged in at the dreadknights. The weirdboy cast fists of gork on the bikeboss, making him right killy.

Hit ‘im in da face! Den hit ‘im in da face harder!

It turns out that seven killa klaw attacks at S14, with extra attacks for each of the originals that doesn't do damage, is a lot. The grandmaster was a deadknight instead of a dreadknight. That robbed the bikers of any attacks, since he was their charge target. But fortunately, Ghaz got full attacks on the other dreadnight. ...Of which two went through, and were both saved against. Some days you get the waaagh, some days the waaagh gets you.

On their turn, the grey knights smote the crap out of the bikeboss and the warbikers, getting them mostly dead and finishing them off in the shooting and fight phases. Ghaz ended up hanging on with a single wound.

Last Ghazp

The Crimson Fist player wasn't idle during this time. He took out the dakkajet with some long distance shooting, then went ahead and removed the two deff dreads, one scrapjet, my squigbuggy, and several boyz. That left me with a grand total of one scrapjet, twenty-odd boyz in two squads, my weirdboy, and Ghaz holding on by a single wound when my third turn came up.

Orks don’t panic. The sweating and twitching is just anticipation of a good waaagh, is all. No one is fleeing, we’re just looking for a better scrap, is all.  [Credit: Ryolnir]

But that was when my allies, the alpha legion, showed up! So secretly, in fact, that no photographic evidence for their arrival can be found. Yeah, none of my pictures from that part of the game came out well. Ultimately, his obliterators and terminators managed to take out the crimson first redemptor. My weirdboy managed to kill the grey knights chaplain, but the surviving justicar of his strike squad was able to deal a fatal wound to Ghaz, finally toppling the Prophet of the Waaagh.

We basically called it there. The grey knights player had to go, so the crimson fist player did his last turn of shooting to see if we'd have even stood a chance. The surviving scrapjet took a surprisingly long time to die, given it started the round with only five wounds left. But when it died, it exploded, and thanks to the careen stratagem, it was able to leave its mark.

Enjoy your mortal wounds, suckers!

Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to analyze the battle too fully. The abortive superheavy duel skewed deployment pretty heavily. It probably saved me a bit of shooting in the first round, but it also meant that I wasn't able to any shooting off my first turn either. Going second definitely hurt me, since it meant the trukkboyz meganobz weren't able to get their full value (though they absorbed a lot of firepower before they died, which probably saved some other units). The maulerfiend never got past the traffic jam until turn three, and the other units he had were too far back to be able to shoot or get into melee. 

That left me pretty much high and dry turn two, looking down the barrel at 3000 points without any backup. By the time he popped in on our turn three, I was down to about 650 points, 300 of which belonged to one-wound Ghaz. Even if he’d popped off, it’s unlikely we would have been able to claw our way back out of that deficit. If we’d gone first, waiting until turn three wouldn’t have hurt quite as bad, but as it was, that was two full rounds where I was effectively 1000 points behind the enemy.

In the future, I’ll probably ask that my partners not go quite that crazy on deep strike shenanigans, or at least come in a bit sooner. 

All that being said, I had a ton of fun, and it was great finally getting my boyz on the table. I did learn a lot about pitfalls in setting up, how variable some of my units can be, and how to move things fast. I also learned some organization issues, and I'll know how to handle them better. In the future, rather than showing with a stack of double-sided buttscribe sheets, I'll have them singlesided in a binder, so I can flip through them quickly and know where things are.

On the ruined battlefield, the shattered armor of the once-mighty stompa were scattered and blasted. The remains of orks and traitor marines decorated the landscape. The adeptus astartes were the only ones who survived to recover their dead.

And yet, under the hot sun, some of the debris stirred. A massive ceramite plate was thrown aside, and the massive power weapon known as Gork’s Klaw emerged from the wreckage.

[bigpimpingwhore]

Does She Spark Joy?

Pairing: Maria Hill x Reader

Summary: It’s pretty hard to keep your relationship a secret from your dad, who just so happens to be your boss, and the head of SHIELD.

Warnings: no actual smut but references to it

A/n: this was actually a fix on my old blog BigIronGay and I wanted to transfer it here. I should probably post more of these even if they are pretty short.

You where in the lab at SHIELD experimenting with the compounds of the TAHITI vaccine when you noticed someone approaching you from the reflection of the monitor next to you.

“Hark! My brave prince charming approacheth,” you feign a swoon as Maria made her way over to where you were working. She looked around to make sure no one was around and removed your goggles from your face. Right as you went to peck her lips she cleared her throat.

“Hey don’t freak out but your dad is right behind you,” Maria whispered as you saw Fury walk in through the doors on the opposite end.

“Fury,” you greeted as you straighten yourself out and inconspicuously grabbed the goggles from Maria.

“Fury,” he nodded back.

“Wow that’s freaky,” Maria said, shaking her head at the interaction. Both you and your father gave her a knowing look.

“I am glad you are both here because I need to inform you on an upcoming project, and I want you both spear heading it,” he stated. Both you and Mariah gave each other side glances.

This wasn’t an unusual statement. Maria was his best agent and you where the biggest brain SHIELD had, blowing minds like FitzSimmons out of the water. What unnerved you both is that your dad didn’t know what was hiding under his nose, your relationship. Not that you didn’t want him to know, you just thought he wouldn’t react well to the thought of you two sharing cherries together, or with any woman for that matter.

“I know that you will have no trouble seeing how well you work together. Here is the file, I expect you to be well versed by tomorrow morning and since you are roommates, you can keep the other accountable,” he nodded to you both, oblivious to the welding that backs your coherence.

“Yes sir, we will hop to it,” Maria grinned taking the file out of your hands. Fury nodded again and turned heel, out of the lab.

\||/\||/\||/\||/

“Give that back, I’m the smart one remember?” You giggle as you and Maria enter into a small game of keep away in your shared apartment.

“He said we both have to look at these files (Y/n) not just you,” she teased.

“But you have had it all day!”

“And I haven’t looked at it once!”

“Of course you haven’t, you graduated from communications,” you joked.

“Bold choice of words coming from nerd of the year,” she countered, placing the folder on the coffee table to pin you on the couch.

“I may be nerd of the year but I can still fuck you senseless,” you pause to watch your lover blush from above you, it was something you could never get tired of.

“And I can outsmart you,” you state sitting up and pushing the file you had acquired to her chest.

You both laugh and get up to prepare for the long night ahead of you. You grabbing several lamps and started the coffee pot while Maria grabbed office supplies and a few blankets because she knew once you sat down you weren’t getting up unless you where going to the bathroom or getting more coffee.

Around three hours into studying the file, you take in the scene. It was just you and Maria, wrapped in a bunch of blankets together, highlighter marks on both of your faces after a little skirmish you had earlier, and your dad leaning against the door.

Wait.

You quickly tap Maria’s shoulder but she is way to tired to comprehend the situation.

“What baby, you find another ‘dirty’ word,” she giggles leaning in.

You quickly shake your head and point at your dad who is now in front of you both.

“Fury! Hey! Didn’t see you there with all of these, papers we-“ Maria rambled, uselessly shuffling through papers.

“Save it Hill, (Y/n), we need to talk,” Fury stoically silenced the agent.

You immediately got up and led him to your dining room where you started your conversation.

“Dad, I can explain-“ you started.

“When were you going to tell me?” He questioned, folding his hands together.

“When I felt the time was right.”

“I believe that before I walked in on you two canoodling would have been the right time.”

“It’s not that simple-“

“How long has it been going on?” He asks looking at you, as if he was sad.

“About a year now,” your voice quivered, it pained you to see the least emotional man on earth like this, even if it was just miniscule.

“Does she make you happy?”

You pause and glance as Maria who was watching from the door frame, and look your father straight in the eye.

“More than anyone in the world,” you grin, proud to say that Maria meant that much to you.

“Well shit baby girl that’s all you had to say,” he said as he stood up.

You look at him and then at Maria again and give her a double thumbs up.

“Now, Maria,” Fury starts, “you are one of the most talented agents I have, and I commend you for that, but so help me god if you break her heart you will be fired and hunted for sport.”

“I promise I won’t sir, I don’t think I ever could.”

“Good, now get back to working on that file, and fix your face too, you got some blue stuff on your, well everywhere,” he motioned to his face as he exited your home.

“Good night Fury,” you called to him.

“Good night Fury,” he called back,” and you too Agent Hill.”

Once he was out of sight you and Maria got back into the prey.

“Babe,” Maria prompted.

“Yes?” You inquired, setting down the papers you had.

“I know we have only been together for a year, but if we get married, and I take your last name, will he call me Fury?” She asked.

“He just might,” you answered, picking back up your papers as her face lights up like the Fourth of July.

[kakigri]

I have a story to tell, last year around September there was a survey that came out at work about the Covid-19 Vaccine, they wanted to know if we wanted take it if it were made available. To take the survey you have to enter your employee ID. I jump at the chance to take the survey and take the vaccine because (My youngest has asthma and since I am a healthcare worker I am exposed to this virus every day and I don’t want to bring it home to my family). So I took the survey and as soon as I put in my ID at the end it automatically checked no, when I specifically said yes in the beginning. So I informed my manager, she told me that I needed to email another person about it, in the meantime she will put my name on the list. In January we received the first batch of Vaccine only a two in my department got called, we were told that we will have to wait for the next batch to come in.

This month the rest of my coworkers got called in to go take the first dose of the vaccine, even my white coworkers whom stated that they did not want to take it. She even offered to give me her place instead and they said no. Mind you I am the only black person in that department. On the day they were called I got to work and they asked me if I received a call, I said no cause I didn’t. One of them said “well they tried calling my phone but could not reach me so they called here at work. I asked them if your name was on the list she said no” So I called my boss and asked her what was going on? she said that she was sending emails and didn’t know what happened but to wait for a phone call. Two days later they called other people in other departments and I never got a call. So I wrote my boss an email asking her why is it that I am the only one in the department that has never received a call to go take the vaccine?and that I felt like it was discriminatory and unfair that the minority in the group was being refused the used of the vaccine. Mind you, my coworkers all of them except for that one girl who offered me her place, have made racist comments and have very aggressive political views that they like to share out loud specially when I am around. (They are all Trump supporters and when the whole debacle of an election was going on for months I had to sit there and listen in silence to their racist views specially when the George Flyod murder happened). I usually have had to email her and wait for like days until she finally answers, that day I sent the email, I got a call in like two seconds, I am not kidding you. I didn’t answer, it was my day off, I was spending time with my family and didn’t want to get into it. She left a message asking me to come in right away so we can talk, I didn’t go. The day that I went back to work I didn’t even get a chance to put down my purse she came and got me. I go into her office and this bitch proceeded to cry, y’all tears were coming out. And I am sitting there looking at her like what the fuck is going on? She said her words not mine “I wish that you had come to me sooner to talk about this, because I want you to know that we are not like this here l, we value and respect all of our employees and for you to have felt like that just really breaks my heart we are not like this. This place is a safe place for all employees” I said ‘I don’t understand how that would break your heart, because I was the one who had to be subjected to this racism that my coworkers and even you on occasions have demonstrated. And if you had any ounce of respect for me instead of crying about me hurting “your” feelings, you should have been asking me about how I am feeling. Because I have wanted so many times to say something, but last time I said something because Pat was being offensive and degrading to one of the cleaning ladies. You called me into the office and asked me to apologize to her for hurting her feelings to which I told you that, I will not apologize because I was speaking out for someone whom didn’t feel like they could talk back and that Pat was being a massive cunt for treating her that way. You proceeded to tell me that you were going to write me up. The only reason why you didn’t is because I told you that I would go to HR if you did. And I feel like you not putting my name on the list is your way of getting back at me for that.’ And the waterworks became waterfalls. So I spent an hour in her office listening to her talk about how her daughter is married to a black man, and that her son is gay and that she could never be a racist person. Her daughter she hasn’t talked to in years since she married said black man, and she kicked her son out the house once she found out that he was gay, I know cause I am friends with the son. Nothing was resolved. I still didn’t get the called and I don’t even know if my name is on the list or not. I gave up, I am going to try to take it outside of work. But I know that she is going to try really hard to get me fired at this point.

[eolewyn1010]

3 seasons of Charité - upsides and downsides

Includes spoilers for all three seasons!

What I like about Charité, season 1:

- Ida is a relatable and stubborn woman, and while I think the protagonists of the newer two seasons are written better and more interestingly, she makes for a good central character

- Behring is great to watch, complex, enthusiastic, arrogant, passionate, desperately forlorn, sweetly encouraging, irascible, honest, and I’m always torn between loving and hating him with all my heart

- he also stands in for how badly society was suited to handle people with psychological issues back in the day

-  actually, none of the characters are simple or one-sided; expectations are often subverted – Behring is not heartless, but he can’t just be “saved” either, neither Koch nor Virchow are as benign as they seem at first, Tischendorf is not the sweet young Prince Charming who’ll give Ida the dream life she deserves, Hedwig is not a brainless little floozie with no deeper thoughts or feelings, neither Therese nor Martha are all the strict boss ladies they want to be, Edith is not just a snotty bitch etc.

- medical history of that time, a blunt look on methods and circumstances

- the rivalry between the doctors; it’s fun to watch them passive-aggressively piss on each other

- the staging of the Tuberculin scandal was really effective, with all the hyping, the downfall and the consequences

- we get sweethearts! Stine is a sweetheart, Else is a sweetheart, Therese is a sweetheart, Dr. Kitasato is a sweetheart, and most of all Dr. Ehrlich. I like kind people, ok? Especially in a setting where so many people are asses

- the music is atmospheric and quite nice

- despite two options of marriage, the female protagonist remains single and gets to focus on her career, even in a time and setting that’s not supportive

- I’m having a blast with Minckwitz – he’s such a bitch, I love it

What I hate:

- the lesbian dies for no good reason

- did our main character really have to be a tragic, left-all-alone orphan in debts? Would you like some cheese with that whine?

- the big, hammy speeches get on my nerves after a while

- my sweet lesbian Therese dies, awfully, of frickin’ tuberculosis

- say what you will, Ida and Behring could have made it work; I think they would have been good for each other. Kinda disappointed

- Else Spinola deserved better

- poor Therese dies, thinking that God punishes her for being in love with Ida

- those weird slo-mo shots between scenes don’t serve any purpose

- what’s with the random fortuneteller scene? What was that good for?

- THERESE DIES! We go with f***king Bury Your Gays??? F*** YOU!

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 2:

- Anni and Dr. Sauerbruch – different than with Ida, we get two focal characters who aren’t presented as doubtlessly morally good. On the contrary, Anni starts out as quite the happy-go-lucky little Nazi follower – and then we get all the character development; hell yeah!

- Anni chooses to keep and raise her disabled baby herself, come hell or high water; damn, she fights for that kid. And Martin is positive disabled representation, too – thanks for giving me a handicapped veteran who’s not a bitter, drunk wreck just whining about what a cripple he is! He’s got a grip on his life, and the leg only ever comes up on three occasions; it doesn’t define him

- Otto, Martin, Doc Jung, Margot, Maria Fritsch and Kolbe are more clearly positive characters, but they aren’t one-sided, either – like, Otto plays that bright sunshine, but there’s so much seething in him. My sweet baby boy

- same for the negative characters, because they aren’t flat either; Artur, de Crinis and Christel are super interesting, all different levels between quiet, only semi-aware compliance and full-on, not-so-blind fanaticism. Gawd, those shitheads, but they’re fascinating to watch

- all them relationships – Margot-Ferdinand, Otto-Martin, Otto-Anni, Artur-Anni, Margot-Doc Jung, Ferdinand-Doc Jung, Anni-de Crinis, Bessau-Artur, Martin-Christel, Otto-Christel, Anni-Martin… there are so many interplays, so many dynamics that influence each other! SO many layers!

- the acting is better, I think; the characters altogether feel less wooden, much more human than the first time around – perhaps because it’s not 19th century manners anymore now, I dunno; I’m getting really emotional over shit, and I love it

- incorporation of the political and social situation into the hospital setting – much more than in the first season, the state ideology influences the way the doctors can do their work, and many of them do their best to still hold onto their duty when everything around them falls apart, which is beautiful

- power struggles between the characters in charge and ideological / political nuances are more subtle; nothing is black and white

- but there’s nothing subtle about the presentation of Nazi crimes and how many people actually just went along willingly – that cold bluntness is just what that subject needs

- interactions with patients are better this time; they’re more now than passive, pitiable creatures who quietly die their way, they’re characters with their own minds and drives (Lohmann, Magda Goebbels, Hans von Dohnanyi, even Emil)

- the music is even better than the first time around, I love it – so gentle most of the time, but it can also really help to build the tension

- we get a very sweet, functioning queer romance between characters who consist of more than “well, they’re gay and it troubles them”, and they both live – THANK YOU for learning your lesson; there was no good reason to have the gay character die, so Otto and Martin get a happy end. Was that so difficult?

What I hate:

- Yrsa von Leistner is so effing random. Who the hell wrote this? If you can’t incorporate a character properly, why bother including them in the first place?

- the passivity and anonymity of the disabled children – why didn’t Artur or Anni ever get to perceive one of them as a person? That girl Traudel for example, Anni could have talked to her

- there’s a slight tendency to “I’ll just tell the character next to me” exposition – Artur when he and Anni wake up together that one morning (why wouldn’t Anni know yet what he’s working on? That long-winded explaining sentence just came off as awkward), Peter Sauerbruch to Margot about the Dohnanyis and Bonhoeffers

_________________________________

What I like about Charité, season 3:

- I’m all pro ProPro! Honestly, that man is a treat, both how the character is written and how the actor carries the situations and interactions he’s in. He’s arrogant and narcissistic, but he’s also principled, insightful and caring, unpolitical in a smart way and honest in a quiet way, and he gets how people are, and his mentorship of Ella, how he supports and encourages her and also bluntly gives her the dressing-down she needs, is a thing of beauty. And that she has to earn his attention first

- I have a personal soft spot for the scene where ProPro is doing his sports and going jogging while talking with Ella, and then just has her run along. That man’s hilarious, I love him

- Ella’s spirited, and while I don’t love the protagonists of this season as much as those of the second, she’s still great in her own right – the dedication to her research, the strength with which she handles the shit that’s thrown at her

- everyone’s so snarky!

- the wider focus on medical history and research; we see a lot past surgery now

- everyone’s taking shit in stride – staff is running off to the West? Ok; rest gets double shifts. We don’t have a senior doctor on the ward this morning anymore? We do shit ourselves. An illness we’re not prepared to treat anymore because, actually, there should be vaccination enough? We’ll make do. I love that spirit

- positive disabled representation! Rapoport’s daughter actually interacts with people, is presented as a person, has dreams and strengths and can handle her issues – yes, please!

- we get an intersex character, not for long and the story isn’t treated with the care and attention it should have, but props for the effort, I guess

- the setting allows for Ella to focus fully on her work and passion, not really giving much on romance and marriage without that seeming out of place – Ida’s conversations most often revolved around a man, Anni was considered a Nazi role model for being married and a mother, but Ella, while the relationship with Kurt is an option, never prioritizes this and never needs it

- personally, I’m smelling threesome subtext between Ella, Kurt and Alex Nowack – that may just be me, but I like it

- how everyone handles situations, how the changes happening in the country are incorporated into the world the characters live in, how they are able to cope with stuff and make decisions, in the end even without shifting blame

- even more so than in season 2, I really like how human the patients and their relatives are, that interacting with them in the right way is made an important part of the doctors’ work, even when some of the patients are asses

What I hate:

- people are mumbling – it’s not dialects, it’s not accents; they’re mumbling. They never were in the first two seasons

- the cancer stories were really no favorite of mine; what’s with the teary melodrama and the sudden gory shock value? Come on, Charité, you can do better. Presenting the human side of everything has always been the strength of this series, so why going so overboard now?

- I dunno, the crime cases ProPro investigates don’t seem to be incorporated that well? I suppose they’re there to establish his main field of pathology, but they spend a lot of time on that “Biter” case, and I’m not sure why

- would have been nice if Inge Rapoport had gotten to interact a bit with important characters other than her husband, Arianna and Kraatz – she’s a lovable, strong female character; why keep her so one-sided?

- what’s with the black’n’white painting? You showed us how conflicted and nuanced people under the Nazi regime could be; why now the clear line between “those people are good” and “that one sold his soul to the Party”?

- you show us an intersex person, introduce her as a character, make us sympathize, show us her hindrances and possibilities – and then she’s just gone? What about her treatment? Positive development? Making Kraatz’ interactions with her a counterpoint to his interactions with Doc Rapoport? What WAS that?

[pixieungerstories]

Captive - 9

Hi Readers - I hate to be like this, but if you love this story, please go here to subscribe.  I’m not intentionally neglecting the free content, it’s just getting overlooked right now.  My next book deadline in Nov15 (2020).  Normally, it’s just me writing for me and you get the benefit from that.  This time Podium Audiobooks has me under contract for second book in the Mistaken Universe.

Also - if you have the time - the occasional gentle reminder is appreciated.  Today’s post is brought to you by @dizzy-poncho who sent me some love and made my brain realized I hadn’t posted in a while.

The sound of someone pounding on the door was less than an ideal way to be awoken. As was the kitten, who had up to that point had been curled up behind her knees, screeching and bolting. Elly glanced at her watch, she had managed maybe four hours of sleep. The person on the other side of the door pounded again. Groaning, Ellly got to her feet, stomped over to the shop door and wrenched it open. 

“What?!” 

The church ladies were clearly taken aback by her tone. They stared at her in stunned horror. 

“The sign says we’re closed for the day.” Elly announced.

“I just need-” Posy started to say, but Elly interrupted.

“You need to come back tomorrow.”

Posy narrowed her eyes, “I could just as easily order my yarn off the internet instead, you know!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Elly replied sadly.  “Good day then.” She then closed the door on the women’s shocked faces. She leaned against the door for a minute and groaned before rallying the strength to head upstairs. On her way she nearly tripped over the reappeared kitten. 

“Jesus, cat! Learn some self preservation!” Elly scolded as she scooped up the tiny thing. The kitten clamored up her arm to her shoulder and settled in for the trek upstairs. Elly tried to remember where she had stored Mitten’s cat stuff. In all likelihood she probably gave it away when she figured her cat had been eaten...Well she’d need to take the kitten for vaccinations anyways. She could pick up whatever she needed then. First thing on the list, a bell collar.  

Well, that could be second. The first thing she needed was a name. Elly wondered for a moment if George would want any say in that. The thought could wait. First she needed a nap, or possibly a whole lot of coffee. Likely both. 

Ben was just staggering out of the spare room when Elly got back to her apartment.  “Shit, boss, I am late getting started this morning.”

Elly sighed, “We are closed today.  How are you feeling?”

Ben shrugged, then rubbed his bleary eyes, “Slightly hung over, possible still a little drunk, and baffled that you have a dragon living in your basement.”  He looked at her face and frowned, “Did you sleep last night?”

Elly shook her head again, “Not really.  I napped.”

Ben winced, “Was that my fault?”

Elly shook her head again, “I was up too late and started getting creeped out by the sounds of the house settling.”  Ben really did look awful.  “Right!” she announced, making him wince again.  “Big glass of water, a couple of aspirin and back to bed.”

Bean groaned, “I would roll my eyes at you except that they feel like they might fall out of my head if I tried.”

Elly snickered under her breath and went to the kitchen for a glass.

“So tell me about George.”

She froze.  This was awkward.  “I think you should ask him about him.  Carefully. I don’t want to offend the dragon in my basement and neither do you.”  She filled the glass with water and handed it to him.  As Ben drank the water she pulled the aspirin out of the spice drawer.

“Does he breath fire?” he asked, lightly, trying to make a joke.

Elly pursed her lips as she considered that.  “More like belches fire, but he can adjust his body temperature to heat the building.”

“You are fucking kidding me!”  His eyes went wide as Elly shook her head.  “Holy shit.”  It was said reverentially, whispered almost like a prayer.  Ben took two steps to the left and sat heavily in one of the kitchen chairs.

Elly gave him a sympathetic look.  “I am honestly unsure if this conversation would be better once you are sober.  It could turn out to be worse.”  She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Are you planning on quitting?”

“Why would I quit?” Ben asked with a frown.

Elly frowned right back at him.  “Because there is a dragon in the basement.  And if you tell anyone, they will just think you’re delusional.”

Ben considered this.  “You won’t.  Think I’m insane, I mean.”

“I’m not really the best judge of sane, Ben.” She sounded sad when she said it.  

There was a long moment of tension before the kitten stropped up against Ben’s leg, causing him to curse and stand up fast enough to knock over his chair.  It hit the ground with a clatter and the kitten bolted.

“Was that Muffin?” he mumbled, looking sheepish as he picked up the chair.

Elly frowned, “You mean Mittens?  No.  George brought it home last night.”

“Like a present?  That’s sweet.”  After a moment, Ben added “And a little weird. Where did George get a kitten?”

“He said someone killed its mom and littermates.  He was vague on the details and I didn’t push.  He would have told me if he wanted me to know.”

Ben shivered, “Yeah.  I was picking up my spice delivery at the post office last week and overheard the Debbie from the pound saying it was less killing cats and more a plaque of cat mutilations.”

Elly went very still.  When Ben finally looked up and met her eyes, she whispered, “Are we talking disemboweling here?”

Ben blinked and stared at her in horror before nodding.  “How did you know that?”

Elly spun on her heels and fussed at the sink, giving it a wipe before putting the kettle on the hob.  “George was unusually circumspect about what had happened. I couldn’t figure out why, he isn’t usually shy.”

Ben snorted, “I can see that about him.”  He watched her face, it was easy to see the wheels turning, but he couldn’t figure out what she was thinking.  “If someone is hunting cats, it might be safer to take … um. . . her?  Or him?  Whatever, take the kitten to a vet a couple of towns over.  If you are keeping it, I mean.”

Elly gave him a puzzled look, “Of course I’m keeping it.”

Ben fought a smirk, “You sure?  Have you named it yet?” 

Elly considered this.  “Nyx, goddess of night.”

Ben snicked, “Really?  What if its a boy?”

Elly rolled her eyes, “Ben, I’m not going to enforce gender roles on a kitten.”

Ben just shook his head.  “Fine, but when we go to the vet, you get to drive.”

----

The vet proclaimed Nyx to seem perfectly healthy and old enough for vaccination and FIV testing.    They booked her in for a spay in two weeks.  Next stop was the pet store.

Ben picked out an adjustable purple collar and neoprene cat harness.  Elly gave him a look.  “What?  You can harness train cats it you get them young enough.  I follow Suki Cat on instagram!”

Elly blinked, “Huh.  I never would have picked you for a cat person.”

He smirked, “Stupid cat videos is what the internet is for.”

“Really?  Because I suspect most people would say porn,” Elly teased, then was surprised when he blushed.  She managed to fight the urge to comment on that, and while she was wrestling with her morals, Ben left to go look at cat carriers.  Nyx meowed and tightened her tiny claws into Elly’s shoulder where she was sitting.  

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out.  “That was rude.”

Ben just waved her away.  “More unexpected. I haven’t seen that side of you. You are very, um, professional.”  He didn’t make it sound like a compliment.  When he realized she was frowning slightly, Ben flashed her a smile.  “You are a great boss, Elly.”

Elly coughed, “I’m not actually your boss, you know.”

Ben blushed again.  That was new.  “Any preference on cat food?”

Realizing he was trying to change the subject, Elly turned to face with wall of food.  “Wet food for cats.  I’ve never had one do well on kibble.”

“Did, um, your other cats sit on your shoulder like that?”

“Nope, this is a first, but she seems to like it up there.”

They watched each other awkwardly for a moment.  Elly broke first.  “Ben?  Are you OK?”

Ben quickly turned his head to the right and scoped out the litter boxes.  “Ina wasn’t that fun to work with,” he admitted.  “Most of the time you are.  Weird, but fun.  I’m starting to understand where the weird comes from.  And now I know that too.  How do you go through your day knowing something like that?”

Elly sighed.  “Ben -  Look, tell me about yeast.”

“What?”

Elly rubbed her eyes, making Nyx meow and dig her little claws into Elly’s sweater.  “You told me that yeast for bread used to come from beer, then the beer yeast changed and there was a shortage, right?”

Ben frowned, “Yeah, brewers switched from top fermenting to bottom fermenting and that process didn’t make the byproduct that bakers use.  But what does that have to do with George?”

“How many people do you think know that?”

“Elly!  It doesn’t matter!  People knowing or not knowing about yeast doesn’t actually matter!”

Elly just raised an eyebrow, “How does knowing about George matter?  Yeast is way more practical on a day to day basis.”  Ben stared at her like she was insane.  Elly kept talking, “Most people, including me, would consider baking bread or spinning wool or knitting a weird and slightly esoteric hobby.  George is just one more weird bit of trivia that you now know.”

[yikesharringrove]

maybe? 👉👈 steve taking a really long time with college (like on one year and off one yours year, on, off, on, off) and he still doesn't really know what he wants to do and he gets really frustrated bc billy just did college all in one go and steve is taking forever and he feels down on himself? idk im feeling the whump rn???

Steve had left high school having no idea what he wanted from the rest of his life.

That’s not true, he had some idea.

He knew he wanted to leave Hawkins, follow Billy wherever he was going. He knew he wanted to be with Billy for the rest of his life, he knew he wanted to leave the past behind and make new friends, people who were kind, and fun, and didn’t bat an eye when Billy pulled him into his lap.

But that’s about it.

So when Billy graduates high school, and gets a full ride to UC Berkeley, and they move into a cheap apartment in downtown Oakland, Steve is so happy that he got out.

He gets a job waiting tables at a restaurant down the street, pays half the rent and buys the groceries while Billy’s in class.

But then two years pass, and Billy’s soaring through college, working to his degrees, plural, because he just couldn’t decide between studying English Literature or Biology with a focus in research.

So he’s majoring in both and getting a minor in Italian because then I’ll know what you’re sayin’ when you start horny babblin’.

And Steve was at the same restaurant.

True, he was assistant manager now, and it came with a pretty okay raise, and he even gets dental insurance, but he feels so stuck.

So he enrolls in community college.

He starts with some general classes, still completely unsure of what he wants to study.

Billy said it was okay to just rule out things you don’t want to study, to nearly fail a math course and know that accounting is not for you.

So when Steve finishes his first year, he at least knows what he doesn’t want to pursue.

Meanwhile Billy has an internship at a lab through Kaiser Permanente. And he can read and write Italian than Steve can.

Steve is walking home from his job at the restaurant when it happens. He’s crossing the street, and gets hit by a car.

He’s taken to the hospital, where he’s informed of a fractured spine and another concussion.

He’s told his injury could’ve been much more severe, that he will not experience paralysis, but he needs physical therapy and walking will be difficult for a while.

Their finances take a big hit.

Billy’s internship doesn’t pay super well, and with Steve being unable to work for the foreseeable future, he’s fired.

Billy has insurance through the school, but because on paper, he and Steve have no real relation, Steve’s medical bills come out of pocket.

So Steve is bedridden for months. He can’t work or get groceries, or do fucking anything but lay there.

They can’t afford physical therapy.

But Billy has a friend studying to be a PT, and she comes over every Saturday, and practices her technique on him in exchange for ten bucks and a few beers.

And so the money Steve tucked away for school is rapidly diminishing.

By the time Billy graduates, Steve is a year into recovery. He still gets dizzy at odd intervals, and his back gets stiff when it rains, but Billy gets a job right away, doing research on flu vaccines.

And Steve goes back to work.

He gets a desk job, something he won’t have to be on his feet all day for. He works reception for a message therapist, which comes with free massages, which work wonders on his back.

So in the fall, he decides to give his education another shot.

He learns that history is not for him, and that his nutrition course was fine until they began looking into how the body processes nutrients, and he was fucking lost. He takes a few business classes, thinking, hoping genetics would take over and this is something he could do.

But his dad was right to take away the job opportunity at his own firm. Steve was not cut out for this.

After a year of research, Billy is promoted three times. He ends up working on some extremely important study that Steve does not understand for the fucking life of him.

But he sits and listens every time Billy explains what he did that day, even though Steve gets so sad when Billy mentions having to kill the lab mice to study their bodies.

So Steve is two years into community college, five years into living in Oakland with Billy, and he still is lost.

He takes a semester off, working more hours, trying to save up some money.

Because Billy is beginning to think about grad school, and that shit’s not cheap.

But Billy decides to postpone that, work for a few more years, and besides, he’s caught between studying something to put him in a research field, or just straight up going to medical school to study infectious disease.

Because Billy could. He’s smart enough for medical school, smart enough to research and be a doctor.

And Steve has a smushy spine and half a degree in nothing.

A semester off turns into a year.

A year and a semester.

Two years.

They’ve been in California for seven years, and Billy gets into grad school in San Diego. They move south and Billy spends late nights pursuing a Masters in Immunology.

And Steve works the front desk at a pediatrician’s office.

He’s flipping through a course catalog from the San Diego Community College when Billy comes home from his new job, the position he got after applying to only three labs.

He kissed the top of Steve’s head, moving to grab himself a beer from the fridge.

“You thinkin’ of going back?”

“I don’t know.” Steve slid the catalog closed. “Is it even worth it?”

“That’s something you have to decide.” Billy sat down, sliding the catalog towards him. Steve had crossed off the classes he had already taken, the ones he new he wouldn’t like.  “And you know, going to school isn’t the only option. You could get an apprenticeship, master a trade.”

“I can’t do anything where I need to bend over for really any length of time. So that rules out plumber, and car mechanic, and anything physical like construction, or landscaping or even general contracting is right out.”

Steve could feel the old shame, the doubt and the self hatred crawling up his spine.

“I have nothing to offer. I have no discerning skills, and in seven years I’ve only made it through two years of goddamn community college, and here you are, ripping through grad school like a fourth degree is easy.”

“Stevie, you’ve got a lot to offer. We just gotta find something that suits you.” He took Steve’s pen, turning to the back page of the catalog. “Okay, we’re gonna write down all of you strengths, and think of career paths that could fit those. I’ll go first, you’re extremely caring. You’d be good at any career where you care for people.”

“But I can’t study nursing or something, I barely understood my biology 101 course. Plus, nurses are strong. I can’t lift more than like, thirty pounds.”

“There’re way more caring fields than nursing, Pretty Boy. Although I would love if you were my nurse.” Billy smirked at him, leaning in to plant a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek as he rolled his eyes. “Another strength: your emotional intelligence is through the fucking roof.” He wrote it down. “Okay, I’ve said tow, so you say one.”

“Um, I think that I’m good at making people laugh?”

“Yes! You are. Perfect.” Billy scribbled it down. “You’re a good leader.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” Billy wrote Intuitive, can smell a douchebag from a mile away.

“You’re good under pressure.”

“Sometimes.”

“Every time I’ve seen. You’re good at keeping calm and keeping others calm.”

“I guess.”

“Nah, Stevie. Positives only. Say a strength.”

“I’m, uh, I’m good at, bilingual?” Billy stared at him. “Like, I’m bilingual.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think that was English, even.” Steve slapped his chest, Billy laughed. “I’m joking. You are bilingual. You’re also really good at making others feel safe.”

“I was always pretty alright at public speaking.”

“You’ve got a great eye for detail.”

“I’m good at teamwork, and delegating.”

“You’re really compassionate, too.” Billy drew a line under the strengths side. “Okay, so now we’ve got some of your strengths, think about what you’d want in a job, and we can match everything up and think about some careers that could fit.” Steve nodded, racking his brain.

“Um, I would want to work with kind people, I would kind of like to do something, you know, worthwhile. I’d like to be in charge of something. Like it’s fine if I have a boss to answer to, but I’d like to be fairly independent.”

“I already have so many ideas.”

“Lay ‘em on me.” Steve sat back, closing his eyes to try and picture everything Billy threw out.

“I’ve actually always thought you’d be a really good teacher. Especially if you did like, kindergarten. Just got to be around little kids all day.” Steve could actually see it. “I also think you’d be a could social worker, like to work with Child Protective Services, or something. Um, you’d be good at even planning. Or I think you’d be really good working at a nonprofit of some kind. Maybe you could be the event planner for a nonprofit.”

And Steve was sitting there, and suddenly, he had four career paths, just sitting right in front of him. Four super attainable career paths.

“Wait, wait those make sense.” Billy beamed at him.

“Yeah, that’s because I know you, Pretty Boy.” Billy opened the catalog. “So, I think if you choose to enroll, you should pick a few classes, like, Intro to Social Work, Early Childhood Education 100, and maybe like, Sociology, and see from there.”

Steve stared at the course descriptions for what Billy circled.

“Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry this has taken me so long.”

“It’s okay. Everyone is on a different timeline. And it’s not like you got to explore options in high school. You were told business until your dad decided that nevermind. So it’s understandable that this took you a minute. Plus, you went through hell with your back.”

Steve sat up straight, stretching out his back.

“But, I mean, the back thing kinda happened to you too, and you still made it through all your schooling.”

“Sure, I watched you go through it, but I was not in the pain you were. And like, emotionally, it fucking sucked to watch the love of my goddamn life go through something, and I couldn’t even afford therapy. Like, I felt so helpless, but that’s nothing to what you went through literally experiencing it.” Steve took Billy’s hand, linking their fingers together, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“You did the best you could. Everything was shit for like, that whole year.”

“I cannot telly you how many times I would go into an individual study room in the library and just like, sob for a while.And then I’d get so mad at myself, thinking of you at home, hurting and not even able to get yourself out of bed, and I’d race home feeling like shit.”

Steve scrubbed his fingers through Billy’s hair. He had cut it a while ago, kept it short these days.

“You were doing everything you could for me. I would just sit in bed all day, and think about how amazing you are. Like I would just think about all the good times we’ve had together, and how much I love you.”

“That explains why we didn’t fight for like, that whole year.” Steve laughed. Billy leaned to kiss him softly.

“And you know, even now we’ve done this, there’s still no rush on you. You don’t have to go back to school this year, of this decade, or anytime until you’re ready. Until you want to.”

“Well now, I feel like there’s a fucking light at the end of the tunnel. I’m almost, excited. Is this how you feel? Excited to go to school?”

“Welcome to the nerd life, Sweet Thing.” Billy drained the last of his beer. “You wanna go out tonight? Celebrate?”

“Like, go out to dinner, or go out?”

“Oh, just like dinner. Be home by eight thirty, in bed by nine, missionary with the lights off, and asleep by nine fifteen.”

“Sign me the fuck up.”

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 2: Green Light)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – to-morrow we will run farther, stretch out our arms farther…” (F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gastby)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another pop-tart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the first saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before, before looking through the next things on his list. A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece of time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travelers that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace. It was a fairly low stakes mission.

He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

“But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slid copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out mission, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. You’re set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

Janus’s own mask, on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side, there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[calzona-ga]

Showrunner Krista Vernoff talks with The Hollywood Reporter about wrapping Alex's storyline, being the first show to shut down production and the episode that serves as its season ender.

[This story contains spoilers from episode 1621, "Put on a Happy Face."]

ABC's Grey's Anatomy concluded its 16th season Thursday with an episode that wasn't designed to be a finale but, as showrunner Krista Vernoff admits, was lucky to have doubled as one.

The Shondaland medical drama had four episodes left to produce before Vernoff made the call to shut down — the first series to do so amid the coronavirus crisis — in a move she says was designed with the crew's health in mind. The series was also the first to publicly confirm that those four episodes would never be produced as Vernoff and her team will use their extended hiatus as a way to incorporate those events into the drama's previously announced 17th season.

As for the episode, here's what happened: Richard (Jim Pickens) is cured, but rejects his estranged wife, Catherine (Debbie Allen). Owen (Kevin McKidd) and Teddy (Kim Raver) are … on pause. Amelia (Caterina Scorsone) and Link (Chris Carmack) have their son. DeLuca (Giacomo Gianniotti) saves the day with Richard but has a breakdown. Meredith (Ellen Pompeo) now finds herself in a love triangle (again).

Below, Vernoff talks with The Hollywood Reporter about making the call to shut down, how she's approaching season 17 and, yes, how she and the Grey's writers wrote out Justin Chambers' Alex.

First, how are you doing with the state of the TV industry right now? I'm worried about everybody in the world, including our industry. I'm really lucky to have continued work. I have a writers room for [ABC pilot] Rebel and I'm doing post on Station 19. I have some semblance of normalcy and I'm hopeful that there will be some return to normalcy in the not too distant future.

Grey's was the first show to shut down production. What went into that decision and was what has ensued since what you were expecting at the time? What went into that decision for me and why I pushed for that shutdown is we have been on the air for so long that so many of our crew members were in that high-risk category. Many of them are over 60 or even 70. There was a day when someone was saying, "Maybe you should go to set and give a pep talk," and I had a feeling of like, "No, I don't want to go to set." I called the network and said if I don't want to go to that set space, you can't keep asking the crew — who are all high-risk — to go. Like anyone else, did I expect the whole world to shut down? No. This is all so unprecedented in our world. I didn't expect this. I just knew in that moment that what I was reading that was happening in Italy meant we were in danger here and I wanted to protect our crew.

You lost four episodes from this season. What was the cast's response to that? What are you considering doing with the remaining four unproduced episodes? Rolling them to next season? Or waiting to see what happens with the world before you plot out what comes next? We're waiting to see what happens with the world. I will start a season 17 writers room in May, and, at that point, I imagine our conversation will be about starting our story from where we left off in season 16. But I don't think we can take unproduced scripts that we didn't shoot and shoot them. We're going to have had a break and have new ideas. We've been texting each other ideas already. Some of those things that we had decided, we're changing because we'll have had a break and have come up with better ideas. And some of it is going to have to change because you're taking what was going to be a regular episode and have to turn it into a season premiere and that will require some reimagining.

As a medical drama, and one with a global audience — you air in something like 250 markets across the globe — have you talked about if you're going to incorporate coronavirus into your storyline? I haven't talked to anyone about anything yet because we're not in the room right now. We're on what would have been our hiatus. But once the writers room gathers in early May, we'll begin to have those conversations. I've been thinking, are we incorporating coronavirus into the storytelling and also does that dictate what kind of stories we can tell? Are we, for example, limiting the number of people in a room? If we're doing a story where 60 people were sitting in a theater, are we no longer doing that story? Those are the things I'm thinking about because I don't think this is going to be totally over when we come back to shoot in July. I don't know.

Have you thought about what it would take for you guys to feel safe enough — given the crew you have — to go back into production? The Writers Guild is thinking about all of those things. There are conversations about, will testing be more widely available by that point? Are you testing people when they go to work? Are you taking temperatures of people before they go to work? I'm addicted to silver linings and an idealist and fantasy thinker because I am a writer, so I keep thinking maybe some miraculous vaccine or cure or somebody will figure out a medicine we use for this can be effective. I'm trying not to think about it too much because no one knows anything and next week everything could change.

This episode was fortunate to work as a season finale. Can you say anything about what would have happened in those four episodes? Or are those ideas that you're holding on to for now? I'm going to holdon to them for now because I imagine we'll play out a fair amount of them in season 17. It's not lucky that there's a pandemic and we had to stop our storytelling four episodes short, but it's lucky that where we had to stop wound up as a pretty perfect season finale.

One thing watching this episode that I'm very eager to know: What do Amelia and Link name their son? Grey's does have a way of honoring the past when it comes to baby names … The name the baby storyline was in episode 22 [which won't be produced]. I suspect it will play in the [season 17] premiere.

Any clues if the name has any special significance? Derek, maybe… I will tell you that the name is not Derek (laughing). I'll give you that the line in 1622 about Derek was that Link pitched it and Amelia said, "I don't want to cry every time I look at my baby, so no." But the name is meaningful, yes.

Owen tells his mother that he's postponing the wedding but doesn't tell Teddy. He obviously has that pretty awful voicemail in which he hears Teddy sleep with Tom. Why doesn't he break things off? The cruelest thing that Owen could do in that moment is to call his mother and not Teddy. That didn't come from anything magnanimous. Letting Teddy suffer in that silence and fear … if everything is OK, you call your partner and say we can't do it. I honestly think Owen is in too much pain to talk to Teddy at this point. It's a major storyline for us to play in season 17: are they over? Is there a way for him to come back from this? Owen has cheated himself and been forgiven, so he would be a hypocrite to not allow for possibility that there could be some forgiveness here. Yet what he heard was really damning and man. That OR scene was my favorite scene of the season. It was really beautiful.

DeLuca, who should be celebrating a big professional victory, realizes he has a problem after diagnosing Richard. What are you looking forward to exploring with his storyline? Everyone interprets that last scene differently. What I believe happens to DeLuca in that last scene is that he's been manic for so long that his brain chemicals have shifted and he's gone into a depression and that's what you're seeing. It's not that he's making any kind of realization; it's that he can't get up off the floor and he doesn't know why. We're telling a story of a mental health crisis with DeLuca and I think he does have the disease his father has. What's kind of beautiful about where we ended the season is that you see that a person who is struggling with mental health crisis can still be an incredibly productive member of society. He diagnoses Richard and saves the day — and he goes into a hole. Where we go from here … you'll see in season 17.

There's a great scene during Richard's surgery when DeLuca looks up at Meredith and gives her this nod, which feels like he's thinking that maybe now he is on her level professionally — and maybe now she can see him in that way. Meredith, meanwhile, tells Cormac Hayes (Richard Flood) that she wants him to ask her out again. This episode also had a lot of foreshadowing that Hayes and Meredith seem destined to be together. What's the larger idea or theme you're looking to explore with this … triangle of sorts? It kind of is a triangle at this point. There are so many pieces to making television: there's the conversation in the writers room, then the script on the page. It's like what you think it will be vs. what's on the page. And then there's what the actors do with it. That story has emerged in a way where I never expected it to be a triangle but feels like it very much is one right now. That's because DeLuca has been so heroic and so dynamic in his mental health storyline that, in a strange way, I expected that storyline would illuminate him as a love interest for Meredith and it ironically feels like it's done the opposite. It's been amazing to watch Giacomo resonate with that storyline. The story ended up better than what I expected it was going to be because now I don't know who I'm rooting for Meredith to be with. There's a part of me that feels like DeLuca, if he gets the right kind of treatment, could be becoming a human being with life experience that helps him rise to Meredith's level and yet there's this man, who is co-signed by Cristina and we've seen the pain he's survived and how, in so many ways, his life experience mirrors Meredith's. Where this goes now is really anybody's guess. I'm excited to see how it unfolds.

I'd be remiss if I didn't ask about something else that happened earlier this season: Justin Chambers exited this season. While Alex had a big send-off, it felt like Chambers left quietly and suddenly. What can you say about happened and the way that all transpired? I decline comment.

From a planning standpoint, how much notice did you have that Chambers wasn't returning? Chambers' last episode aired in November… I don't want to talk about it.

Can you talk a bit about how the Grey's team came up with how you concluded Alex's storyline, reuniting him with Izzie (Katherine Heigl)? I love that episode. I thought it was beautiful, romantic, heartbreaking, painful and the perfect combination of the way so many stories happen in Shondaland, where you're simultaneously crying for joy and crying for grief. It was perfectly imperfect and it was perfectly messy. It allowed for Alex to have grown as a human in a variety of ways and to still be imperfect and to disappoint a woman he has loved greatly. It allows for Jo to have been a person who really healed him and in so many ways that he's now able to go be this wonderful dad to these kids. And it allowed for the characters who are still at Grey Sloan to not have to go through another massive chapter of grief. I thought it was beautiful and I'm really proud of it. It was an amazing thing to get to watch 16 seasons worth of material. To get to go backwards on a character's timeline, 16 seasons, and to have it actually be stuff we shot on the show? That's rare in TV. Usually if you're flashing back, you're using VFX to de-age a character.

Wrapping things up, I always ask you the same two questions at the end of every season. Will there be any cast departures ahead of season 17? There are no notable cast member departures happening between seasons.

And are there any conversations about season 17 being the last one for Grey's? And in terms of 17 being the end, I never believe it's the end until they tell me it's the end for real.

[maximumninjavoid]

Chapter five of “ I STILL don’t know what the feck to call this”

There aren’t even warnings. What the eff am I even doing? Does it really matter?  Well, actually, no. It does not. As we proved JUST the other day, people are publishing absolute CRAP on Amazon about humanized coronavirus  and lord knows what all else and if you don’t believe me, look at some of the stuff Dick Tingle has written and he’s made a fecking fortune.

I hired a guide and went off to see the Palace, and the giant reclining Buddha. She was very well informed, knew all the best spots, and of course, had cousins that drove taxis, and had restaurants. I didn't have any issues stimulating the local economy and employing family. We went to this amazing silk place, I bought several bolts and shipped them to the States. If only I could see the looks on the recipients faces when they got there. I read some more emails from Ms. Rudenko, chuckled to myself at how well she was handling everything and everyone, and had a nasty giggle at the thought of someone trying to bulldoze their way past her. Eventually it was going to get out that I was the lottery winner, but I was going to cherish every moment I could. I called Ms. Rudenko and asked her to give me her professional opinion on a few matters. How big of a donation did one need to make in order to get the charity's celebrity ambassador to come thank you personally? Did you need a big cardboard cheque? How did she recommend I pull this off without looking like a complete stalker? I spent a few more days giggling at the documents in the secure cloud, getting wicked buzzed on Thai iced tea and writing. The words were coming fast and fluid, the dialog writing itself. I'd probably need a bit of professional polish but I really thought I had something I could sell. I needed a transcription specialist who was well versed in hieroglyphics. Admittedly, I had the handwriting of a serial killer. I was pretty certain I would be willing to commit several felonies for a decent cigarette. Didn't this country have some sort of colonial ties to Europe? I mean, didn't almost everywhere? You know, the sun never sets on Queen Victoria's petticoats or some shit? I should be able to find a fucking pack of Dunhills..The intelligence gathering was going very well. It was astonishing how good information gets to the highest bidder, and I am a reasonable beast who guards her information with a deadly ferocity. It was time to face the music, I supposed. I mean, I was going to have to go somewhere eventually. Somewhere where someone was going to put two and two together. I looked pretty good, I had a new wardrobe, I had my own personal pit bull in Louboutin pumps, I could do this. Or, I could just keep checking places off my bucket list and be a chicken shit. A really wealthy chicken shit, but a chicken shit none the less. They finally had a vaccine that worked, and I booked my cruise. One hundred and four days around the world, in a suite with a balcony. Did you know you can rent formal wear? You can. So, compromise. I'll go face the music, and then go jump on a very large ship and let Ms. Rudenko with the fallout. Its what I paid her to do. I went back to work. Remember? I love my job. I also loved hearing how great I looked. I mean, who wouldn't? I did have to turn in my notice. After two days, i felt human, dragged my ass to the airport and went home. House was still standing. Good sign. No break ins. Better sign. I did Grub hub, and went to bed, and I went back to work. Like nothing had happened. I tied up my loose work ends, explained to my boss, who is also a dear friend what the truth was, and started packing for my cruise. I played music I liked, lots of eighties, danced around the house and didn't call or email anybody. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to have to manufacture any bullshit, and it just seemed easier not to, and at some point, Ms. Rudenko would disburse funds, and you know, money speaks volumes, right? In fact, it screams. It screams so loudly that it can in fact get you a meeting with the celebrity ambassador of the Durrell  Conservation, and as it turns out, it will be when  the cruise ship docks. You get to choose. Will it be as you depart, or as you return from 108 days? Well, I mean, what was HIS schedule? For all I knew he was filming something somewhere fun, or chasing down heirloom rosemary and two hundred year old people. Maybe August Walker was getting the feature film he deserved. For all I knew he was filming the latest Bond film. And if he wasn't, well how much did it cost to produce a film? Seed money to get other people to invest their money? Hmmmm. This sounds like a job for Ms. Rudenko. Have you ever been on a cruise? Me either. A certain amount of this was me swallow my fear from the original Titanic movie. I was certain I was going to die like Shelley Winters, stuck in a bulkhead, as the ship goes under, with a Christmas tree jammed up her ass. So I was at the orientation, paying very close attention to the directions, noting ALL the locations of the life boats, and making notes of where the smoking sections are as well. Yeah. I know. All that money and a bloody balcony, and I can't smoke. I can't even use a e cigarette. I wasn't even going to do my usual joke about the fee for smoking in my room and is it a one time fee or every time you catch me? I had my own butler. That was lovely. Sort of like a well dressed version of my mother disapproving of my every move. He did a lovely job unpacking my things, and I noticed all the alcohol had been removed from my state room, and the pillow concierge did a smashing Job, and I'm already on the butler's shit list because I insist on coffee.

Off to explore the ship. There’s literally packets of information and a daily schedule. I don’t think I can persuade my butler for assistance. I have scheduled times for dinner and I have no idea with whom I shall be seated. But the Gentleman Walkers are an actual thing.  Ambassador Hosts. That’s their official job title. they’re specifically there on the ship for single women. Swear to Odin. They’re great dancers, great hosts, play cards, go on excursions, I mean, nice work if you can get it. There were about 2000 people on this ship, I was going to entertain myself and see if I could spot the hosts. This ship was enormous. I was worried about motions sickness, honestly, and we hadn’t gone that far. but this was literally a floating city. I resisted the impulse to do the titanic thing at the bow of the ship, and went down a level and walked down one side and then back up the other.

[damianosismyking]

PART VII

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI

A day or two later, Damen got weird.

It was a hard-to-describe type of situation that made Laurent freak a little. His mind was happy to provide him with lots of thoughts regarding just that.

For one, he probably did something wrong, though he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

They had that too vulnerable of a conversation about things that led Laurent to the ranch; they detoured that by talking more about family than specifics of Laurent's story. They got back on track and then detoured again - and it went on and off like this for about an hour or two. They overslept. Had lazy morning sex. Damen left late for work, which was less than smart now that he was given his first case. Laurent didn't complain. Laurent was late for work too, but the others could manage the horses just fine without him there.

Something during that time must've gone wrong, maybe.

Damen texted Laurent at night to tell him they couldn't hang out because there was a lot he had to study for his case before he met his new client. Laurent's only reply was 'ok'. It was a little too dry. Maybe that made Damen upset?

For other, Laurent was meaning to leave anyway so if Damen was distant, shouldn't that make things easier? Laurent shouldn’t be so distressed.

Waking up without Damen wasn't new, and still it made something twist in the pit of Laurent's stomach.

Not getting any replies for his texts did not help.

Damen seeming so distant on the other side of the line when Laurent called during lunch was upsetting. Damen hanging up abruptly was even worse.

It was an ego thing.

It probably was an ego thing.

Laurent always had a thing with ego.

Probably.

And it was a stupid thing to get worked up over. Laurent didn't have to make it serious.

On the first day, Laurent focused on his job, since that’s what he was meant to be doing, instead of thinking about his boss. Feeding the horses, changing their water, calling the Vet to come check on them. Three horses were almost late on the vaccines and one needed deworming. Paschal would come in a few days to check on them. Then Laurent and two others took them to walk around, freeing them on the pasture. Gather them back on the stalls.

After that Laurent himself was off for a long ride around the ranch and farther until he began to worry it would soon be too dark to come back safely.

On the second day something Laurent surely had not expected was to see Damen with some girl.

Some girl with long black hair braided over her shoulder. Some girl with a stunning face and huge eyes and freckles, and that strutted. She strutted. Some girl that laughed like she was singing. Some girl that Damen was laughing back to, the way he only ever laughed with a few close people. The way that he laughed when he was with Nikandros, and Kastor and Jokaste (before they cheated). The way that he laughed when he was with Laurent.

They disappeared in the main house and didn’t reemerge from there. Eventually it got too late and Laurent was too tired to wait up and see when she’d be leaving.

On the third day, Laurent came up with a speech and then mastered said speech that he would give to Damen and his family - as a whole, not separated parts - thanking them for so many years of kindness. He couldn't bear speaking to Damen privately. Not that Laurent was the crying type, but he might cry anyway. Emotions. Laurent hated them.

There were the speeches for the horses too - and those were individual. One to each. The biggest and most heart-felt to his own horse. It was the right thing to do.

Also on the third day, Damen opted for undermining all of Laurent's plans by showing up without previous notice to Laurent's room just before nine, looking serious and stiff like Laurent’s never seen him be. Damen tried for a smile, but it became obvious then and there that this conversation would be better if they didn’t try to pull niceties.

Straight to the point. Just business and such.

Laurent couldn't help but feeling small though. And helpless, and wrong, and guilty about something he didn't even know what. He has felt like this before - though the circumstances had been so different then.

Guilt was a constant in Laurent’s life when he arrived at the ranch. Guilty for escaping. Guilty for not letting Auguste know he was okay. Guilty for accepting all of those nice things that Egeria offered to do for him. Guilty.

The way Laurent felt guilty then was like how he was feeling guilty now. It was irrational and yet too goddamn real, despite him not having done anything to deserve that.

"We need to talk," was the first thing Damen said, his voice too deep to suggest anything other than that he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Laurent gulped. "We do."

Damen frowned, as though not expecting that Laurent would say anything. Like Laurent was supposed to stay quiet and mop as Damen broke things up between them. "Go first then," Damen settled on the bed.

"Okay," Laurent walked to his desk and back, settling beside Damen, close enough that he could reach, but far enough that they would not bump.

Laurent offered the methodically folded piece of paper to Damen and waited for Damen to take his own conclusions of it. When it took longer than a minute, Laurent decided to verbalize, "I would like to offer you my resignation. I am immensely grateful for all that you and your family have done for me over the course of the years; I can't stress enough how -"

"What -" Damen interrupted "What is this? What the fuck, Laurent?" Damen held up the letter as though he had been personally offended by it.

Laurent drew a deep breath. "As I was saying - I am all too thankful for all the kindness you have shown me for so, so long. In my heart I will never forget all of this and I promise I will remain grateful to the day I die, but I feel like I overstayed my welcome. I know it might come as a shock, but right now I want to do more with my life. Something to give me an actual future. I hope you and your family won't take it as an offense, I will talk to Theomedes before I -"

"Are you shitting me?" Damen's expression grew more outraged the more Laurent spoke; he was already on his feet "That's it? You’re going to leave? You're breaking up with me with a fucking resignation letter and a formal speech?" Damen threw the letter to the ground "A goddamn speech?"

Laurent shifted, trying to appear unaffected. "I know the nature of our relationship was more intimate and I appreciate the special attention over the past few months. But, yes, I would like to leave."

Damen blinked, in chock. He had his hands on his hips which should be funny, except it wasn't. Damen lowered his tone, considering something before he said, "Is it because of the breakfast? Because if it is, Laurent, I promise I will never put you in that position again, I wasn't thinking. You don’t have to leave I’ll -"

"It's not because of the breakfast, Damianos" Laurent interrupted this time "I just want to be something more. To become someone. And I’m well aware of our situation" he gestured between them "and how things couldn't go forward."

“You can do everything you want. You don’t have to go away. Or you can go away, if you want to not be here anymore. I can help you, with college and finding a place to live wherever you want, just let me -”

“I have my own money that I saved, thank you. I don’t want your money. I don’t need it.”

“Laurent -”

“I would like,” Laurent’s tone was more incisive, firm “To de dismissed. Please.”

"Holy -" Damen turned his back, running his hands down his face.

There was silence and Laurent didn't want to think about it, or anything at all. He wanted this conversation to be over, so they could be over, and Laurent could be alone. By Damen's reaction he wasn't thrilled Laurent beat him to breaking up. Was Damen not used to being broken up to? Was this a first for him? No. Laurent knew for a fact this wasn't the case.

There had been Jokaste before him - and breaking up by cheating on him with his brother must've been a little worse than a letter of resignation. Though the letter shouldn't be too far behind. Laurent just didn't expect Damen to care so much. Maybe that was him not caring so much. Laurent would love it if his head would stop spinning and if Damen said something already.

"I, of course, fully intend to complete my notice and help you find a suitable person to fill my spot," Laurent said, in the quiet, when Damen still didn’t speak.

Damen huffed. "That's really nice of you, thank you," he said, voice carried in irony "I should’ve known. God, how am I this stupid?"

"Huh?"

Laurent wished Damen would turn around; watching his back was unsettling.

"Why am I always this stupid?" Damen said, not louder, "Nikandros told me this was going to happen and I - I didn't listen. Why did I not listen?"

"Are you talking to yourself?"

Damen just kept rubbing his hands over his face and mumbling. "You could have told me,” Damen’s voice was internalized, like he was half swallowing the words, but at last he was talking to Laurent “If you didn’t want... You could’ve told me before – you could’ve told me sooner.”

“Told you what, Damianos?” Laurent was still rock-solid on the outside.

“That you didn’t want things to get serious,” Damen took a sharp breath before finally turning and fixing his eyes on Laurent's “Didn’t want things to go forward. That you wanted us to remain casual.”

Laurent frowned. "We were casual," They were casual. Weren’t they casual?

Damen closed his eyes, pained. "I got that part, thanks," Damen leaned against the wall, resting his head on the wood panel.

More silence. "We were casual," Laurent whispered.

It did not make any sense. None of it.

"So," Laurent gulped, words outwards again "You didn't come here to end things between us?"

Damen smiled like it cost him greatly to do so. After, he shook his head. "No.”

Well, fuck.

Laurent was considerably less stable. "What were you here for then?"

Damen's jaw tensed. He looked to his boots, not Laurent. Laurent almost thought Damen wouldn't say anything until, "I met your brother."

The words floated before they could sink and once they did, Laurent found out he wouldn't be able to breath any time soon. "You what?"

"He is my client," Damen explained, "He has lawsuit against your uncle. There are evidences that your uncle interfered on the process of your custody, stole your family's money and properties. They've been fighting in court for years now and Auguste is out of resources to pay the fees and lawyers, so he signed up for the pro-bono."

Damen, much more in control of himself now, pushed away from the wall and bent to catch the letter he had thrown to the ground "I thought of breaking attorney and client privilege to let you know," his voice was cutting, bitter. Damen raised the letter again, like he's done earlier, but this time he refused to look at Laurent "I'll have the others know you're leaving. We will hire someone to replace you by the end of the week. Don’t worry about the notice, you’re free to go."

On his way out, Damen was gentle to close the door, leaving Laurent alone with his pounding heart and a full head.

__

NEXT>>

Read it on AO3!