#by the way do you like my new haircut that i got from harriet first try. *bats eyelashes*
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figuring out the pathing has been super annoying.. the brightness scale is still too limiting so you cant do subtle texturing very well and the pixels are noticeable, but for the game to blend the pixels into blobs they need a certain amount of contrast
the paths originally had a blue tint to go with the bridge but it looked off compared to other greyish items. so i made it full monochrome . but THEN the bridge has a blue tint anyways so fuck me in particular i guess
#the stone bridge is like the only one i want to use. its supposed to be neutral!! come on!!#the onnly other option for the modern-ish look i want would be the iron bridge but it has that obnoxious sky blue as the accent color#and the bridge itself is mostly wood besides the blue railing. ugh just kill me#im not gonna be using the two default stone paths either bc i dont like them#by the way do you like my new haircut that i got from harriet first try. *bats eyelashes*#acnh posting
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Interlude - Rewrite mini series - Harry Hook x reader - Part 10 (final)- new vks
=
-(July 1st 1:17 am, the mines underneath the Isle of the lost)-
Hadie stared down at the almost blank application, he had taken one nearly a week after they arrived on the isle and had yet to do anything more than write his name. and the first pick-up day was today at 4 pm sharp.
Hadie sighed and buried his head in his hands, his father, Hades, had encouraged him to turn in an application if only to be finally able to be with his mother and sister; Persephone and Melinoe. Hadie had been taken away with his father to the isle at only a month old, so he hardly knew his mother beyond stories from his father and he had seen his sister on the tv a few times.
But in turn he would be leaving his dad on the isle, and while his dad wasn’t the best person in the world, he wasn’t a horrible father or husband…well, other than that one thing his father did 19 years ago but Hadie had blocked that from his memory. But- Hadie rubbed his face and pushed his hair back, looking down at the application - his father had told him to fill out an application…
Hadie picked up his pencil and started to write.
-2:00 am-
Claudine sighed in relief; she was finally done filling out the transfer application. She had hidden her application away from her father to prevent him from taking it and keep her from leaving the isle. But she had to get away from him, she just had to. She signed her name at the bottom and inked her thumbprint onto the corner square. She waited for it to dry as she got dressed to sneak out to go turn it in.
Thankfully the ink had dried for the print as she finished tying off her boots, she then grabbed the application and folded it, sliding the paper into her shirt. She grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on as an extra layer to combat the isle chill.
Claudine slowly opened her door, freezing as the floor creaked under her boot. She waited for twenty seconds before moving again, stepping onto the spots that wouldn’t creak that had been ingrained into her mind after so many years of sneaking out.
Claudine unlocked the front door and slipped through, locking it again behind her and setting off towards the main market where one of the application drop-off/pickup spots were.
As she finally arrived, Claudine gasped and took a step back into the shadows.
Hadie, the son of Hades was at the drop-off spot, setting down an application. Claudine had never had a personal problem with Hadie but her father always went off about how he and his father were preachers of the devil, being beings that didn’t go in line with her father's beliefs so he called them sinners and were in line to be with the devil. He didn’t believe in the gods of old that were very obviously real.
And Claudine knew there were always people that followed her father's beliefs around and about at this time of night and would rat her out if she was even seen near the son of Hades. So Claudine waited until Hadie had walked back towards wherever he had come from and she bolted forward, sliding in her application into the large box that only allowed applications to be inserted but not taken.
She pulled her hoodie closer to her and turned to run back home, praying to whatever gods were listening to help her get off the isle.
-1:30pm-
Ginny couldn’t believe she was actually doing this; she was actually applying to transfer to Auradon. She stared at the drop-off spot which was being surrounded by hundreds of kids doing last-minute application pickups and others dropping off their filled-out applications.
Over two hundred kids and young adults had and were applying for this transfer program, and only six would be picked twice a month, and Ginny knew it was going to be a long shot for her to be picked by any of the original six vks. Maybe Harriet would put in a word for her old “friend” but Ginny wouldn’t put her hopes on it.
Ginny waited until most of the crowd had cleared to drop off her application, some of the younger vks jumping out of her path to avoid her as she walked toward the table. She ignored them and slid the paper into the box, turning on her heel and bumping past Diego as he did the same as her.
Ginny paused for a moment, waiting until Diego turned again and started to walk back to where ever he had been before turning in the application “You applying too?” Ginny asked, stuffing her hands in her dress pockets and walking in stride with Deigo, who gave her a mean side-eye “Hey I’m just askin’” Diego rolled his eyes, sidestepping a running kid.
“Yeah, so what? You can't blackmail me for it since you did the same thing” Ginny grinned, patting Diego's arm and giggling as he pulled away, brushing off the place she touched.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic, I’m just bein’ curious, you think you might get picked? You do have family over there” Ginny was reminded of Carlos, Diego's cousin, and due to that Deigo probably had the best chance of getting picked first round.
“Maybe, maybe not, I dunno, now beat it” Diego snapped, taking a sharp right towards the abandoned theater and disappearing into the market crowd. Ginny hummed and rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips.
“What a drama queen” Ginny muttered, yelping a bit as an arm wrapped around her neck.
“Hey~” Colin cooed and started to drag Ginny off towards the salon “What are you doing out here~?”
“Turning one of those applications in” Ginny muttered, loosening Colin's arm around her neck and standing straight, pouting as Colin’s heels still gave them an advantage over her. “Why are you out here?”
“Same actually!” Colin gasped, giving a teasing smile to Ginny “why’d you apply? Just wonderin’?”
“…” Ginny just gave Colin a look, the look many vks shared when one of the more ‘proud’ vks asked who and why they would even want to go to Auradon. Fresh air, real grass, actually changing seasons, fresh food that wasn’t supplied by the ships and had actual different things than the constant same old same old the isle got in its provisions.
“Oh, okay, gotcha” Colin laughed, taking their arm from Ginny's shoulders and rubbing the back of their neck.
“Why’d you apply?” Ginny shot back, pausing as a loud shriek of rage echoed out from within the queen of hearts salon “I think I just heard the answer to my question”
“Yep” colin popped the ‘p’ and sighed, closing their eyes “My mother’s a pain in my ass and I can't wait until I don’t ever have to deal with her or her issues again, do you know how many times I've heard ‘off with their head’ in one day? Too many to count I’ll tell you that” Ginny was once again dragged by colin as they grabbed her wrist and took her inside the salon “Come on, you’re gonna help me deal with my boredom”
Ginny let Colin push her into a chair and start messing with her hair, it was high time she needed a haircut, it had long grown out of its bob-undercut she liked and now rested below her shoulder blades.
“Go nuts” Ginny sighed, closing her eyes and letting Colin work their magic.
-3:45pm-
Celia huffed as she raced through the marketplace, trying to get to one of the drop off spots to turn in her application before the applications were picked up. She had gotten the application almost immediately after they had been delivered but she had been so busy with fortune-telling, being Hades errand rat, and school that she hardly had time to fill it out and get it to the drop-off spot.
But she had finally signed it off only ten minutes ago and now was racing to turn it in in time. She slid to a stop in front of ‘Carlos' house’ and ran in, gasping for breath as she slammed her hands onto the table and slipped the paper into the box. “Uhhhh, Celia, you good?” Jamie, one of Umas ex-crew members, placed her hand on Celias back, staring at the younger vk in concern.
“Out” Celia gasped between each breath “of, breath, ran, all the way, from, arcade.” Jamie sighed at Celia's response and helped her stand up straight.
“What took you so long in turning the application in? the pick-up times in ten minutes” Celia looked to the clock on the wall and winced. It was already 3:50, only ten minutes until the Auradon guards came to pick up the turned in applications “Whoop” Celia felt herself be picked up and moved to the side as a crowd of vks rushed into the room, all holding an application “Well…that’s a lot of last-minute turn-ins” Jamie laughed, setting Cellia down and watching as the vks climbed over each other to try to get their application in. Jamie patted Celia's shoulder and walked over to the large group, calming them down and quickly getting them into an orderly fashion to make sure not one application got left behind.
Just as the last paper was slipped into the box, an Auradon guard stepped into the room, giving a kind smile to the vks and picking up the box, making sure it wasn’t tampered with before turning on his heel and rejoining his fellow guard outside the shelter.
The vks all looked at each other for a moment before they all decided to follow the guards, Celia pushing to the front and watching as the guards loaded the six boxes filled with applications into the sleek black car, the Auradon symbol adhered to the back doors.
The guards closed and locked the back doors and one offered the watching vks another kind smile. The guards climbed into the car and it drove off, the crowd parting as it made its way to the bridge.
“Well,” Jamie muttered, stepping up to stand next to Celia “it's all up to luck now huh?”
“Let’s just hope the future is on our side” Celia mumbled back, turning on her heel and heading back to the arcade, mind racing as she thought about her possible future in Auradon.
-
“Cher! You’re back! How’d it go, did you get the application in?” her father greeted her as she stepped into the arcade, in the background the games were being set up by the arcade workers as school had ended the day before, and now her dads summer hustle needed to be up and running by the end of the day.
“Yep, and now we wait” Celia leaned into her dad's side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her back towards his fortune-telling table.
Celia sat across from her dad and watched him as he shuffled through his cards “Something on your mind cher?” her father gently asked, looking up at her under the brim of his top hat. Celia shrugged, slumping in her seat and resting her chin on the table.
“Just the application stuff, kinda hard to believe it’s actually happening” her dad hummed at that, laying down his cards in a swift motion. “…do you think I’ll get picked?” her father drew three cards, laying each one down.
The first was a mask with two sides, one happy one sad, her past. A miserable life on the isle but taken care of by her father. He drew a second card, a rolled-up application with the words awaiting on the front. Her present, her application, and her hope of being chosen to go to Auradon.
He drew the last card, smiling at her.
It was her, wearing her favorite outfit nonetheless, sitting on top of a large pile of coins and cash, a big grin on her face as king Ben's castle rested in the shadows behind her. “I think you don’t need to be worried about a thing cher,” her father said softly, picking up the cards and shuffling them again.
Somehow, even though the barrier blocked all types of magic, her father was able to predict past, present, and futures perfectly, and while she more often than not scammed her clients, she had this same ability.
Her father had said his cards weren't connected to the shadow realm but his own abilities, so Celia guessed that’s why it wasn’t affected by the barrier.
Eh, it was too much of a headache to think of now, Celia sighed and stretched in her chair as her father stood to check on the arcade set up. Celia smiled and took out her cards, shuffling them in her hands as the arcade workers bustled around her getting ready for the surge of teenagers wanting to play.
-July 16th, at (y/n) and Harry’s house-
“And we are officially! Moved in~!” you dusted your hands off and closed the garage door with your foot, sharing a grin with Harry as he stood up from packing away the last of the cabinet food and wiped his hands on his pants.
“An’ tha’ last two weeks haven't been official why?” Harry joked, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as you skipped over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Because I have officially unpacked and put away the last box~ ha ha ha!” Harry snorted at that and cupped the back of your head with one hand as the other grabbed your hips, smiling at you.
“Yeh got meh there darlin’” you grinned and bumped your head into his, humming as he tilted his head to kiss your forehead. “How bout some root beer floats to celebrate?”
“Hmmm, I would love to but-“ you pulled out your phone and unlocked it, showing him the vks + Ben and Doug group chat where Ben had announced the arrival of the approved applications from the council “-you have applications to go through and Ben wants us over there in an hour…and you need a shower” Harry pouted at the loss of the celebratory dessert and sighed, kissing the top of your head and dropping his hands from you, moving around you to head to the bathroom. “We’ll head out in thirty okay!”
“Kay!” you nodded and pulled your slightly sweaty shirt (another you had stolen from Harry) and hummed, deciding to use the other bathroom to take a shower as well.
-
Mal groaned in greeting as you and Harry stepped into Bens room at the castle, he had decided to have the ‘’first official application choosing” in his room after seeing the number of applications the vks would have to go through. Harry made a face at seeing his pile of applications, they had been sorted through “favorite vk” so each of them had a pile or three of applications where the isle kids had chosen them as their favorite.
“This is gonna take forever” Harry muttered, giving you a pout as you smacked his arm “yeh denied meh a root beer float, I’m gonna be grumpy”
“I have provided snacks and root beer floats” Ben laughed, gesturing over to the large folding table holding many snacks and a tray of cups next to a tub of vanilla ice cream and a big bottle of root beer.
“Beasty boy, yeh have gained points, (y/n) yeh loose some” you rolled your eyes as Harry almost skipped over to the table and began to make himself a float, you walked over to Harry’s pile and began to sort through it, happy that the council had actually approved of a good amount instead of stinging on the vks and approving only a handful.
“Welp” you clapped your hands, sharing a grin with the already ‘tired of this bullshit’ vks (they were still happy to get more kids off the isle but sorting through all the applications was gonna get boring after a short while) “let's get this started shall we~?”
-three hours later-
Harry sighed as he placed his last application into his ‘first group’ pile, which was at least a good half foot tall and he would have to choose between the vks in that pile but he was done with the majority for now. You, Doug, and Ben had been great helps in taking their applications they had both sorted through and had yet to go through and organized them into ‘favorite vk, age, and big/small villain parent’ (which sounds biased but it helped choose)
“As much as I want to get more kids here, I never want to look at another application for the rest of my life” Mal groaned, flopping into Jay's lap and blowing a raspberry as he flicked her head for blowing over one of his (thankfully small) piles of applications.
“I never want to look at the Auradon logo ever again” Evie groaned from her place on the floor, halfway behind Carlos who was finishing off his pile. He turned and smiled at her, patting her face twice in empathy.
“So,” Ben sighed, setting down his drink and smiling at the vks “who are we picking?” everyone looked to each other before Harry took the top paper from his stack and held it up.
“Before we go through the papers again, I jus’ want ta’ point out the council actually approved Hadie” Mal sat up at that and snatched the paper from Harry, who glared at the purple-haired fae for a moment before turning back to his stack.
“Wow, and here I thought he’d be one of the ones to be denied” Mal snorted, Hades was one of the most feared villains on the isle, he was big and strong, even after losing his powers to the barrier, he wasn’t seen all that much though, even during the early days.
“Whose Hadie?” Ben asked, leaning over to look at the application.
“Son of Hades” the vks answered at once, making Ben laugh a bit, Mal continued to explain “he’s like, the oldest vk on the isle, I think he’s even older than the isle actually?” Mal peered at the written birthdate “when was the isle made exactly/”
“July 4th 1995” Doug quickly answered for Ben beginning to help Evie go through the papers once again to look for Celia’s, to which Jay handed it to her as Celia had written him as her favorite vk. Mal nodded and played with the application in her hands.
“Yeah, Hadie was born about a month before the isle was created, doesn’t he have a sister or something? I remember him mentioning that like, years ago” Ben raised his brow at that, before his eyes went wide.
“Oh, do you mean Melinoe? She’s Persephone's daughter…and she was born June 20th 1995, could she be?-” Mal nodded, showing Ben the application and pointing at Hadie’s birthdate. “Oh wow…well now I know the reason for the 1995 blizzard, Persephone must’ve caused it in reaction to Hadie being taken with Hades. Honestly, I don’t blame her, I would rage too if my barely a month-old child was taken from me” the vks nodded, remembering their parents telling them of the Auradon winter that happened soon after the isles creation that lasted almost into the spring of next year before it stopped, assumed to be the other gods telling her to stop before Auradon collapsed before it really began.
Mal smiled as a thought came to mind “I think I’m going to choose Hadie” Ben and the others tilted their heads in confusion as Evie seemed to understand what Mals thought process was. “Well, I just thought, ya know, im the daughter of the evilest villainess in the world, why not chose the son of the evilest villain? Ya know, keep the train going and all that” Ben grinned and leaned over to kiss Mal's cheek, who blushed and giggled at the affection.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea” Ben hummed, smiling as Mal reached over him and grabbed the “approved” stamp, and then used it on Hadie’s application “All right, one down, five to go!”
-
Two hours later and the six new vks were chosen. Mal had chosen Hadie, Evie had chosen Celia Facilier, Carlos had chosen his cousin; Diego De’vil, Gil had chosen Claudine Frollo, Jay had chosen Ginny Gothel, and Harry had chosen Colin Hearts.
“Well,” Ben clapped his hands, standing from the floor and offering his arm to Mal to help her up as well “that’s it! We’re done! All that’s left to do is register them to their schools and then announce them on vk day!” the group cheered and Harry stood, helping you up as he did. “it’s been three and a half long years its finally happening, on the 17th we’ll officially celebrate the three-year anniversary of your arrival as well.” The group cheered again as they all stood and stretched from sitting on the floor for several hours. “So, enjoy the rest of your day guys, I’ll be here” Ben sighed and laughed, looking at the large stacks of applications he now had to put away "doing king stuff”
“yeah” Mal sighed, patting Bens shoulder, keeping her face sympathetic as he gave her a ‘you wanna help?’ look “well, im going to go back to bed, bye benny~!” she kissed his cheeks and raced out of the room as he attempted to grab her, cackling as she went.
“Imp!” Ben yelled, grinning as Mal's laughter echoed back. He turned back to the rest and smiled “thank you guys, really, none of this would have been possible without you”
“We wouldn’t be ‘ere without yeh beasty boy, so thank yeh” Harry pulled Ben into a side hug, Ben laughing a bit and squeezing Harry's side. “Really, Ben, you saved us from a life on the isle, we owe yeh our lives” Ben felt himself get teary-eyed as the rest of the vks nodded along with Harry, all smiling at Ben.
Mal popped in head back in and grinned, holding her thumb up in agreement “I would still be under my mom's thumb if it weren't for you, thank you Ben”
“I would still be afraid of dogs and my own shadow, ” Carlos laughed, Evie squeezing his shoulder as he looked at her.
“I would still think beauty over brains, thinking that I needed a prince to be happy” Jay gave a somber smile as Evie spoke, and crossed his arms, rubbing his thumb over this Auradon class ring.
“I would still be alone, sleeping on the floor of my dad's shop” Gil stepped on Ben's other side, squeezing the shoulder opposite of him.
“I wouldn’t be living my best life alongside you, and I would still be the dumb sidekick for everyone” Harry titled back into Ben's vision after Gil spoke.
“And I wouldn’t have met (y/n) or gotten away from meh father if it weren't fer yeh, so really, thank yeh Ben, if you ever need anything, anything at all, we’re here fer ya. We’ll always have yer back” Ben let out a quiet cry and the vks crowded him in a hug, Mal bounding back into the room to join in as you and Doug cooed from the side, letting Ben and the vks have their moment.
“I love you guys” Ben’s voice wobbled out from the pile of vks and they echoed it back at him. After a few moments, they separated and Ben wiped his tears “I should thank you all as well, without you I wouldn’t be the kind of king I am and I would probably be under the council's thumb or something, anyways enough with the sob fest im starving” you snorted and lifted your arm as Harry stepped next to you and pushed into your side.
“All righty then, we’ll see yall later, bye!” you and Harry walked out of Bens room and headed to the parking garage to head back home to chill for the rest of the day as really the only plans you had was doing applications and it was only 3 pm.
“We have dinner with your sisters tonight, right?” you asked as you pulled out your phone, checking on your calendar to make sure your brain was correct.
“Aye, somethin’ bout Hettie getting her sailors license, so celebratory dinner fer tha, but until then, nap time!” Harry opened the passenger's door and gestured for you to get inside, you did so and Harry closed the door behind you, walking around the front to get to the driver's seat and sliding in as you buckled up.
After Harry started the car, you clicked on the radio and jammed out to the song playing as Harry drove back home, keeping your eyes on the ocean as you did.
Uma this whole time had stayed ��on the run’ even though Ben had confirmed to the kingdom that she would be forgiven for her ‘crimes’ which had caused some questioning but he gave some insight to the isle and it calmed the situation quickly. You had asked her time and time again if she wanted to come back to the mainland with you or to tell Harry and Gil about her presence but each time she declined, why you didn’t know but you didn’t want to push.
‘ I'll visit her tonight, give her an update on everything’ you thought to yourself, eyes going down to your phone and turning it on, tapping in and out of random apps.
-
Hours later and it was almost midnight, you once again trekked through the bush towards one of the coves against the Strait of Ursula, smiling as you found Uma sitting on the shore, her hair had changed once again, now in teal locs that stopped at her lower back. “I like the hair” you hummed as you set the bag full of food next to her, sitting down as she unzipped it and started to dig through.
“Thanks, wanted to try something new” she grinned as she took out a box of chicken fettuccine alfredo and a fork, she popped open the box and dug in “dang, Gil needs to go to culinary school, and I really should have had him cook more on the isle” Uma muttered, dancing as she ate while you snorted.
“Actually, this is Tony’s restaurant cooking, we ate out tonight with Harry’s sisters” Uma stopped for a moment then resumed eating.
“Huh, alright then, compliments to the chef then” she stuck a piece of chicken in her mouth and turned to you, cheeks puffed as she chewed “any updates?”
“Uma, it's chicken not see food” you joked, holding up your hand to cover your view of her mouth, laughing as she rolled her eyes and smacked you “sorry, I had to. But yeah, all six vks for the next round have been picked, Hadie, Colin Hearts, Ginny Gothel, Claudine Frollo, Celia Facilier, and Diego De’vil”
“Only one person in that entire selection is high school age” Uma muttered, raising her brow as you shrugged.
“Eh, we weren’t going to strictly high school age, more just…villain kids. Celia will be attending Auradon prep, while the others will attend a quarter at Auradon prep to get started then spend the rest of the year at Auradon city community college, then they can do what they want from there.”
Uma slowly nodded, looking out onto the ocean where the moon was setting behind the isle. “How long do you think it’ll be before all the kids are off?”
“Well,” you sighed, looking up at the stars with your lips pursed in thought “twelve kids a month from now on? There's what probably…I don’t know let's say a thousand kids on the isle?...maybe less than three years? Give or take? So not the fastest process ever but hey at least somethings going to be happening now instead of just waiting, and the fresh food and necessities program will continue even after we get all the kids off so even the villains won't be living under human rights violations” Uma hummed at that, setting down the now empty box of her ex-dinner and curling up, setting her chin on her knees.
“I know Ben’s been doing his best, you all have…even the imp from what I've heard” Uma grumbled, hesitant to ‘compliment’ her old bully. She was still unsure of Mal even after you told her about Mal going to therapy and agreeing with Ben to ‘forgive’ Uma for her ‘crimes’. Mal had been cruel and relentless for years so Uma really had many reasons not to trust Mal one bit. “But it still feels too little too late”
“Blame the council for that, if Ben could he would just let kids go from isle to Auradon willy nilly and he would have done it years ago, but the main council are a bunch of old goons who are still scared of your parents and refuse to see that these kids don’t deserve any of this” you gestured to the isle, your jaw clicking in anger as thunder rumbled above it “Ben actually had to threaten them to get them to go through all the applications in time, or to make unbiased disapprovals. If they had their way, everyone would be back on the isle by now”
Uma huffed at that, standing and dusting off the sand sticking to her legs and skirt “you have a point” she went silent again, looking out at the isle “well, I guess now we wait again, at least we know things are happening now…keep me updated” she started to move back into the ocean but you stopped her.
“Do you want me to tell-“
“No” she interrupted you once again, looking back at you with somber eyes and a watery smile “I-…I don’t think im ready to face them yet…even after three years…I’ll see you later (y/n)” Uma dived into the waters and disappeared in a golden glow into the deep.
You watched the waters crash against the shore for a minute before you grabbed the bag and empty food boxes and packing them up. You sling the bag over your shoulder and turned on your heel, heading back through the bush to where you parked your bike and headed home.
When you arrived home Harry was already in bed, probably asleep by now. You quietly unlocked the front door and stepped inside, sneaking through the house and putting away the empty boxes in the dishwasher, then hanging the bag in the closet. You undid your shoes on the couch and rested them next to the door the next time you passed it to go to your room.
Harry had kept the door cracked for you so you slipped in and smiled at the crumbled form of Harry on your bed, his body mostly on your side of the bed as his face smushed into your pillow, light snores pouring from his lips.
You got changed into one of Harry's shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts and slipped into bed next to Harry, resting your head next to his on your pillow and tossing your arm over his shoulder, smiling as he unconsciously pulled you into him and buried his face into your air.
“I love you Harry” you whispered into his shoulder, unable to keep the grin off your face as he, in his sleep, replied back.
“I luve yeh too”
-End of Interlude-
Part 10!!! Part 10!!! Interlude is finished!!! Thank you all for reading this and finale will be coming in August! Oneshot showing the relationship development between (y/n) and Harry coming at some point before that but again thank yall for reading!
permtaglist
@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012
@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @random-thoughts-003
@remembered-license @verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life
@imtryingthisout @rintheemolion @thecaptainsgingersnap
#Descendents#descendants#disney descendants#harry hook#harry hook descendants#harry hook x reader#harry hook imagine#interlude#rewrite#part of your world#shuffle playlist
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You’ll Thank Me Later- A Newtmas fanfiction
So this is the first fan fiction I’ve ever put on here (or anywhere) so I hope it’s not terrible. Sorry about any spelling/grammar errors, I proof read but I’m not attentive enough for it to be effective. I’ll probably delete this later but whatever.
Summary: Thomas ends up coaching his brother Chuck’s soccer team and developed a crush on a fellow coach. Minho causes a little bit a chaos and plays cupid, but nothing too bad. A little bit of Brendresa because what was I meant to do. Everyone ships Newtmas because I say so. Child!Gally but you’ll see what I mean later.
Thomas didn’t know how he got talked into this, spending his Saturday’s and Wednesday afternoons coaching his younger brother Chuck’s football team.
His twin sister Teresa had coached it for three years, but she’d taken a job offer out-of-state and she and her girlfriend Brenda had moved away about a month ago, leaving his mother to pressure him into coaching instead.
That’s how he ended up standing on a sideline on some football field handing out red shirts with “Team A” printed on the back to thirteen year olds on his day off, his best friend Minho (who agreed to be his assistant coach) starting to assign kids to position.
“Have you seen my goalie gloves?” Thomas heard Chuck holler as he handed a shirt to some kid named Winston.
Thomas stole a glance at the other team to see what they were up against (just because he didn’t want to do it didn’t mean he wasn’t invested, it was just part of his competitive nature). The other team (their shirts read “Team B”) seemed to be made up of mostly girls, and one skinny boy who seemed more invested in picking at the grass than warming up with the rest of the team.
The coach was in short the most beautiful person Thomas had ever seen.
He was lanky, with warm brown eyes and fluffy looking blonde hair. He couldn’t be older than Thomas with his young face.
“That’s Newt,” Chuck said, suddenly standing next to Thomas. He swore that kid could teleport sometimes. “His sister Sonya’s the best on their team, he’s been coaching for longer than Teresa did. He picks Sonya up from school.”
“I don’t need his whole life story Chuck, I just need to know how good his team is,” Thomas rolled his eyes.
“Good,” Chuck replied. “They won the championship last year. Sonya and Harriet are their usual forwards, and things rarely get past them, and Aris and Rachel their defense are really good even if they don’t look like much.”
“How good’s our defense?” Chuck pointed to two kids Thomas was pretty sure were named Jeff and Clint who were trying and failing to pass the ball to each other. “Okay, we can work with that.”
“Teresa made it work,” Chuck corrected. Thomas glared at his little brother.
“Are you doubting my ability to coach a team?”
“Absolutely.” Chuck paused, looking past Thomas. “He’s coming this way?”
“Who?”
“Newt.”
“Hey Chuck,” A voice said from behind Thomas. Whoever spoke spoke with a thick British accent. “Where’s Teresa?”
“She moved with her girlfriend,” Chuck said. “This is Thomas, he’s our new coach.”
“Hey there Tommy,” Newt said. “I’m Newt, I coach Team B.” They shook hands, Newt had soft hands. “Good luck out there.” Thomas stared as Newt ran off and started talking to a dark haired girl that looked like him.
“Do you enjoy coaching a lot better now?” Chuck asked with a smirk.
“Go get in net,” Thomas rolled his eyes and went back over to Minho.
They got completely destroyed. Thomas had no idea a bunch of thirteen year old girls (and one boy) could be so vicious. Aside from learning thirteen year old girls were the meanest people in the world, he learned that his own team would need a lot of work if they wanted to get even close to the championship.
“He's kind of hot though,” Minho said as they packed up the equipment. Most of the other kids had left with their parents, only Chuck and his friend Gally remained, who Thomas promised to drive home. Thomas could see Newt out of the corner of his eye, talking to Sonya (who Newt called Lizzy) and Harriet, the two best players on Newt’s team by far. Poor Chuck never stood a chance in goal.
“Who?” Thomas asked his friend.
“Newt, and don’t be lying to me shank I see you noticing too,” Minho said, slinging a backpack over his shoulders and smirking evilly. Thomas hit his friend in the shoulder lightly and picked up a bag.
“We’ll get them next time,” Thomas said. he suddenly remembered he promised he’d call Teresa after the game and pulled out his phone and called his sister.
“Hey Tom, how’d the game go?” Teresa’s cheery voice said.
“Absolutely horrible,” Thomas said. “It was twelve to nothing.” Teresa started laughing.
“So you played Team B I see,” Teresa said. “They’re the only real competition, we’ve never been able to beat them even with me as coach. I’ll tell you what Tom, you get them to the championship game and Brenda and I will drive back for a week and help you against them. Deal?”
“Deal,” Thomas replied.
-Time Gap-
They’d just won the semifinals and Thomas agreed to take the whole team out for ice cream. They were at a place Thomas’s friend Frypan owned, and he agreed to give them a discount since they were a team and Thomas and Minho clearly didn't have the money to pay for every kid.
“Have room for three more?” A familiar accented voice asked. Thomas looked up to see Newt standing there with Sonya and Harriet next to them.
“Of course,” Minho said. “Take a seat, any seat.” Sonya whispered something to Newt before she and Harriet went off to sit with the other kids, Newt sitting down at the table with them, right next to Thomas. Thomas could see now that even though Newt was slender his arms were actually quite muscular. “So I assume we’ll be playing you in the championship came next week?” Minho’s voice broke through his train of thoughts.
“You will,” Newt confirmed. Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off of Newt’s eyes, the way his eyelashes seemed to move in slow-motion every time he blinked. He didn’t come out of his haze until Minho elbowed him in the arm, making him knock his ice cream onto Newt’s shirt.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Thomas said.
“No big deal Tommy, just ice cream,” Newt said. “I don’t fancy walking around in ice cream though. I’ll go grab some napkins.”
“Thomas’s got an extra shirt in his car, don't you Tom?” Minho smirked, and Thomas finally figured out why Minho really elbowed him. It was all part of an elaborate plan. “Why don’t you two go grab that and I’ll watch the kids.” Thomas would’ve flipped him off if there weren’t kids around, instead he got up and walked out to his car, Newt following him.
“Might bit a bit large on you, but it should do,” Thomas said, handing Newt a gray shirt he pulled out of his trunk. He always kept a spare shirt in his car, just for incidents like this one.
“Thanks Tommy,” Newt said, pulling off his shirt covered in ice cream and putting on Thomas’s gray one. Thomas looked away, trying to hide the blush on his face. “I’m going to go put my shirt in my car, no need to wait up.” Thomas nodded and headed back towards the ice cream place.
“I hate you,” Thomas said, sliding down next to Minho, who still had that stupid smug look on his face.
“You’ll be thanking me for that one day,” Minho replied.
-Time gap-
Thomas forgot Teresa promised to come help out with the game until her white car pulled up next to his in the parking lot next to the football field as he got the equipment out of his trunk. She got out of the car along with Brenda and threw her arms around her brother, almost making him drop the equipment.
“Hey Tess,” Thomas said, smiling at his sister. “Hey Brenda. Nice haircut.”
“Thanks,” Brenda said.
“Enough chit chat, we’ve got a game to win,” Teresa said, officially in coach mode.
“Please tell me she didn’t bring the whistle,” Chuck groaned as he got out of the car. Teresa pulled the infamous whistle out of her pocket and blew it right in her little brother’s face.
-Slight Time Gap-
“Alright guys, let’s get it together!” Thomas called to the team. “Chuck, Teresa suggested you and Winston starting as forwards, Gally, you get in goal. Zart, Nick, and Alby, you guys play midfield. Jeff, Clint, you take defense. Got it?” Everyone nodded and ran off to their positions.
“Aye Tommy, I see you called in reinforcements!” Newt called, gesturing to Teresa and Brenda.
“I can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or insulting you,” Minho commented.
“I smell a ship, how come no one told me?” Brenda asked.
“OTP,” Teresa grinned. Thomas glared at them before turning his attention to Newt’s lineup. He’d put Sonya and Harriet in defense and had Rachel and Aris as forwards. A girl Chuck said was named Beth was in goal, and those were the only people Thomas recognized. He thought the odds were pretty good, but they’d have to watch out for Harriet and Sonya.
“Who’s starting with the ball?” He asked Minho as the referee walked onto the field with the ball.
“They are,” Minho replied. “I’d say Chuck and Winston can get the ball from them fairly quickly, it’s getting through their defense that’s the problem.”
“Play towards the middle,” Teresa blurted out. “Sonya and Harriet always seem to go towards either side. If you play towards the middle there’s a better chance of avoiding them.”
“Chuck! Winston! C’mere a second!” Thomas called. Chuck and Winston ran over to them. “When trying to get around their defense head towards the middle, it should buy you a second. Good that?” Chuck and Winston ran back onto the field and the game started about a minute later.
It was on.
-Slight time gap-
Double overtime. They’d dragged the game out to double overtime. Thomas called a time out before the overtime started.
“Alright guys, we’ve got a strategy,” Thomas said. “Since it’s next point wins, we’ve just got to keep everyone busy enough for us to score. Jeff, Alby, you keep Sonya and at least one midfielder cornered at all times.” Newt had moved Sonya and Harriet back to forward at halftime, and Rachel and Aris were back in defense. “Clint, Zart, you take Harriet. Nick, support Chuck and Winston. The three of you should be able to get around midfield together, it’s Sonya and Harriet you’ve got to worry about. Shoot from the sides on Aris and Rachel, they congregate in the middle. High shots, Beth gets the low ones. Remember I’m proud of you no matter what happens out there.”
The team ran back onto the field, starting with the ball. Chuck passed back to Nick and began to run up the field to get passed to. Harriet ran to get the ball but Zart got in front of her before she could. Nick passed to Chuck and he zigzagged through their midfield before passing to Winston. Winston got around Aris, and just as Rachel got up to him he passed back to Chuck, who kicked the ball into the goal.
The ref blew the whistle and Thomas hugged Minho he was so happy. He saw out of the corner of his eye Teresa kiss Brenda. He watched as the whole team ran and congratulated Chuck.
They all lined up to congratulate the other team, Thomas in the way back behind Teresa, Brenda, and Minho. As he high fived the kids on the other team Thomas realized how much he enjoyed coaching the team. Before a few months ago he thought Teresa was crazy for wanting to spend her time coaching a middle school football team, but he was starting to pick up on the fact that his sister was right on a lot of things, whether he liked it or not.
“Good game Tommy.” Newt said as they shared a high five. What Thomas did next he probably wouldn’t have done under any other circumstances, it was the pure joy from winning the game speaking.
“Would you like to go get ice cream with me?” Thomas asked.
“Like, with both the teams?” Newt asked.
“No, just us.”
“So, like a date?” Thomas could feel the blush creeping up his face.
“Yes, exactly like that.”
“Bloody finally.” Newt rolled his eyes and Thomas felt puzzled.
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for weeks, you twat, it’s been driving me mad. I didn’t even think you were interested, but Minho said ‘wait’ anytime I voiced my concerned.”
“Minho?!” Thomas glanced over at his friend, who appeared to be talking to Teresa and Brenda.
“Yeah, he came up to me about a month back and told me he’d help me get you to ask me out if I wanted to.” If looks could kill Minho would be dead from the one Thomas served him. “So, um, ice cream?”
“I’ll come find you in the parking lot after we take pictures with the trophy, okay?” Newt nodded and blew Thomas a sarcastic kiss as he ran over to Minho, who’d apparently witnessed the whole thing and was grinning like crazy.
“Told you you’d thank me later,” Minho said.
“About that, we’ve got to talk about your lack of ability to mind your own business.”
#newtmas#Thomas tmr#newt tmr#The Maze Runner#Brendresa#Matmaker!Minho#modern au#it's a little chaotic but oh well#Minho tmr
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What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2
Episode 1: CamelNOT
[Lively Music Plays]
I shit you not... that’s what it said in the CCs.
Tower of London (?)
*Catherine looks at the array of crowns like a museum curator and the proceeds to strut down the halls*
Wolsey: *gives her this strange look which is a mixture between damn girl and the eagle is my spirit animal.
Then Catherine gets fake detained and taken to Henry in what must be a strange variation of the whole Robin Hood/Maid Marian roleplay they historically engaged in.
... did she just call his erhm manhood his kingship? Well that’s original, I’ll give them that. Also funny how Bessie Blount initially looks on in fright... don’t worry girl that will be you soon.
———————————————————————
*the four ladies have a brunch friendship moment together*
I see Blount is among them... I see they are setting her up as Catherine’s friend in order to play up the whole betrayal.
Alright. Jokes aside, I realised how much I’ve played myself. I was inspired by @melusineloriginale ‘s sporks (which if all this TSP episode posts got you in the mood for PG show mockery I urge you to check out here - you’ll thank me later). In truth, Henry VIII’s early reign is a bit too late from my main area of focus for me to make intelligent jokes.
I’ll content myself with just bullet-pointing random thoughts that came into my head, and if some intelligent thought gets through, well that would be the pinnacle. In any case I’ll aim to not parrot some of the stuff that’s already been said, repetition can get annoying.
This image embodies this post, but maybe not the show. I’ve noticed those Starz productions get better by the end.
First Scenes:
- The recap just reminded me how much I will miss Margaret Beaufort in the coming episodes. I know her portrayal was innacurate but Harriet Walter just made everything better.
- They are making such a big deal out of this whole ‘we were crowned together, we rule together’ thing in this episode - it makes no sense. Catherine was an influential Queen but she was definitely no more than a consort and never saw herself as more.
- Ruairi’s new haircut is pleasing to my eyes.
- When she says ‘Abuelo’ it’s super adorable awww
The Ferdinand and Charles V scene:
- Bessie Blount looks so much like Ursula Pole lmao. Also they totally got the Pole children’s birth order wrong and UGH WHERE IS GEOFFREY POLE???
- I like Mary Tudor’s actress and her facial expressions. However, this whole polyglot image they are representing is innacurate. I am fairly certain she knew no spanish and I recall reading a contemporary account which said that she was not very learned.
- I’m pretty sure it would be considered bad luck to prematurely crown your son ‘Henry IX’ while you’re still alive.
- I actually like the whole Grape motif in this episode. It’s probably the smartest thing they’ve come up with so far for this episode. I know a lot of you will be all like ‘there’s no record of Ferdinand being abusive’ but this choice sort of makes sense when you recall Joanna’s treatment. Also I appreciate them for not being tacky and showing flashbacks of more overt abuse eg physical. The sugared grape is also fairly symbolic (the sugar is like a gilding, the grape easily crushable)
- OMG the guy from Garrow’s law is playing Thomas More!
- AND PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT SEEING THINGS? Margaret Pole x Thomas More is happening?? Please god that is a historical crackship I am getting behind. Yes. This is what I’m most invested about.
Margaret Tudor and Scotland Scene:
- The whole ironic cutaway to Margaret being all depressed after Charles Brandon’s statement about her charming Scottish king is such a cliché movie technique.
- If this were a more artsy film I would think the whole setup resembling a stereotypical middle-class family breakfast was done on purpose for humorous effects or to create a link with the past. But here I don’t have as much trust in the producers. I think they just failed to capture the time period accurately.
- The modernisms continue: ‘Negassi please stop playing’ idk, there just something so modern about this for some reason ahaha
- Also again, I’m getting tired of all this ‘Catherine is basically queen herself’, ‘Catherine is a political genius’, ‘Catherine Catherine Catherine’ ugh. I don’t think the producers understand that Henry VIII was a very autocratic and traditional ruler. He didn’t make any show of joint-rulership (correct me if I’m wrong).
- The teeth thing is funny, smart and I liked it.
Back to Westminster:
- I like Ferdinand’s actor!
- Also Catherine’s response to ‘who are you loyal to?’ was not that smart. I feel like the producers wanted us to be impressed. What if Spain and England’s interests conflict, ey??
The Joust:
- I care too much for the whole Margaret Pole plotline. I’m so invested.
- I could watch a series of More and Pole just exchanging lines. I love the actors too and this is my hope for this series. The whole frustrated parents is SO CUTE.
- I didn’t know More tutored Reggie, I would be curious to know more.
- The way compton says groom to queen’s stool is freaking hilarious. He looks like a pervert.
- Henry Pole is a darling and must be protected at all costs.
- Oh Christ oh Christ that eyeball shot was just... good job on the special effects guys. Don’t know what the point of that choice was.
- I found the whole armour mentions after interesting, it looked so set up as a PR campaign because Stafford speaking about the armour just sounded like a statement agreed on beforehand ‘should have worn the same’ and the Catherine with ‘steel in the bones’ and Ferdinand’s impressed face (it was him playing them?)
- Am I giving this show too much credit?
- Also whats up with “God save the Queen?”
War Counsel:
- Henry VIII’s actor is quite charismatic in this scene. It’s almost as if Catherine is the hothead and Henry the wise one that speaks less but more significantly. It almost feels like they gender-swapped them.
The Bedchamber:
- Did Catherine breastfeed the baby? I thought it was Anne Boleyn. Doubtful... I’m tired of the trope of ‘you’re a good woman if you insist on breastfeeding the child yourself despite social conventions’. For a feminist show, the writers seem very attached to some 1950s perceptions of motherhood.
- I feel like the age difference between Catherine and Henry is well conveyed.
Scotland Again:
- ‘All the sheep were pregnant’ 👀 oh touché Margaret. oh my. Did she just?
- I know they are playing out this disenfranchised Margaret arc to reinforce how great Catherine and Henry are (cheap technique) and to build up to her involvement in Flodden (innacurate historically but I know what the show will do). But I will say this: the humour is pretty good in the Scottish scenes! But I know it’s unintentionally so... (I highly doubt they wanted us to laugh at Margaret hitting James or calling Alexander a pig).
Westminster and the baby chamber:
- What’s are those red splotches on the babies face??
- Oh that shot of Margaret and silent Reginald :((( it makes me sad.
- And now the Poles are at church! I just love the look of them.
- That scene of Maggie and Catherine was needed, as we didn’t get the best friends vibe much in this episode. The whole thing looked a bit pagan though, but it was nice :)
The whole Ferdinand’s betrayal segment:
- The grape motif again was fitting, him snapping the fruit right before she gets to it even despite her knowing what he’s like and what he’ll do, was a good parrallel.
- I’m tired of hearing of this ‘Camelot’. Even in the novel, Camelot was Catherine and Arthur’s dream and... can we just live it up with Arthur?
- Ursula Pole’s, Bessie Blount’s and Mary Boleyn’s actresses look way too similar.
- I fail to see why Catherine thinks she’s turning into her father... she doesn’t strike me as much of a game-player or subtle two-facer.
- I’m intrigued what will happen with Oviedo and Lina... I feel like they won’t stay in England long.
- He was made knight bannaret... nice... but why does he thank Catherine publicly for this? It was in Henry’s gift that he was made a commoner Knight.. if this transpired irl Henry would have been gravely insulter.
Catherine’s Dead Baby and thereafter:
- Guys. In all seriousness, I don’t think the TV series is trying to imply that Catherine killed the baby with her negligence. I mean, they are so bent on us liking her they wouldn’t do that. It would be a bit too ballsy anyway. Remember the red splotches I mentioned earlier? Could those have been a sign that he was already ill but no one noticed/was in denial?
- The pebbles in hands would have had more emotional payoff if it had been established earlier if you know what I mean. Basically, this episode is too fast and entire arcs begin and end within it which extinguished any build-up.
- Oh man Henry is so sweet in this, how will they build him up as the tyrant he was historically if they keep this up?
Scotland Again:
- I must admit, I don’t like all those nicknames they keep using. But somehow James calling Margaret ‘Meg’ is nice and seems fitting.
- What’s a hermana sister?
England Last Mourning Scenes:
- YOU DID NOT BUILD CAMELOT ughhh
- Why is Catherine giving the speech and not Henry?? It turns out Catherine was more emotional historically then the whole perception of ‘perfect queen of stone’ to which some people hold her. However, I doubt it would have been proper of her to give a speech in such a emotional manner.
Conclusion:
6.5/10
Some of the dialogue was stilted, the costumes are confused as to which era they’re supposed to be (aesthetically distracting) and many other characterisation issues.
I don’t have high hopes for this series in terms of cinematography or art but I sure as hell expect it will be entertaining. So far, everything is just getting set up and I find some aspects promising. As you can tell I am truly excited over how the Margaret Pole plotline. I am also interested in how Henry will be portrayed, with Catherine being so OTT and pushy this episode Im starting to Stan him more. In this show he appears sensitive and serene and kinda... adorable. Kind of like a little brother hanging onto his sister’s skirts.
But in a way that is a disservice to the real historical figure which would not tolerate such a representation. I am very irritated by this whole ‘joint-rulers’ thing which is just sooo innacurate. These STARZ shows have an obsession with showing women turn into men for the purposes of feminism - I see.
Catherine overpowers Henry too often and it sometimes feels like he’s HER consort. Of course, the feminism in this show is schizophrenic as we get the overemphasis of Catherine as a 1950s motherly ideal with the whole breastfeeding angle (“you’re better than other noble woman who would find this beneath them”, “they’re not as motherly as you”).
So the relationship dynamic between Henry and Catherine is a bit off at the moment, but oh well.
Mary Tudor is a bit distracting with her dark hair but I find the actress extremely endearing and promising. I know there will be emphasis on her storyline too and I hope they’ll not be clichéd with it.
#the spanish princess#the spanish princess 2#lady plantagenet's series reviews#not my best#but I've been ill for most of the week and wanted to get this out before episode 2 comes tommorow#feel free to send me an ask if you you have anything to say#I'd love to see if anyone else thought some of the same things
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More Human Than Meets the Eye-part 2
Here’s part 2 of the first episode guys! Thanks for reading!
Previously: "I'll be back very soon," he promised quietly. Adaline said nothing, only gazing at her father very seriously for several seconds. She bit her lip and creased her eyebrows and John had to fight back a smile at the adorableness. He didn't dare move for fear of interrupting the father-daughter moment.
She nodded then, and Sherlock moved towards her, grabbing her small body in a tight hug before kissing the side of her head. He stood to his full height once again, and bounded outside.
"The game is on!"
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Sherlock called for a taxi and soon the two of them were headed for Brixton. They sat in silence for a while. Sherlock fidgeted on his Blackberry phone while John stole nervous glances between him and the outside scenery. Finally, Sherlock lowered his phone."You have questions," he stated.
John noticed that he didn't pose it as a question. "Yeah, where are we going?" he started."Crime scene. Next?"
"You have a daughter."
Sherlock paused; he wasn't expecting that to be the next question. "…yes," he drew the word out a bit. "I apologize for not telling you about her when we first met. I realize that living with a child isn't exactly ideal for some people but…"
"No, no it's alright," John interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't really mind. She's adorable," he chuckled. "Isn't she?" Sherlock agreed, smirking. "I'm quite attached to her myself."
"If you don't mind me asking, where's her mother?"
"Dead," Sherlock answered concisely.
"Oh my…I'm so sorry. That was so uncouth of me. I didn't think…" the army doctor began sputtering. "Oh it's fine," Sherlock reassured the man. "She died about seven years ago. Very close to the time Adaline was born."
"You raised her all on your own then?" John inquired. "Somewhat," Sherlock said simply. He didn't make a notion to elaborate. John felt as though he'd already pried far too much at this point, so he quickly moved on."So, uh, who are you then? What do you do exactly?"
"What do you think?" Sherlock countered, looking outside."Well," John began, hesitant, "I'd say private detective…" "But…" Sherlock prompted."…but the police don't go to private detectives."
"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job." "What does that mean?" John asked, completely overcome by his curiosity now. "It means," Sherlock started, "that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."
"The police don't consult amateurs."Sherlock looked away from the window at that moment, and John almost felt bashful with the look he was giving him. He stopped himself from retracting his statement. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised."
"Yes I was. How did you know?" John asked him, leaning forward in his seat.
"I didn't know. I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room…It was quite obvious that you were an army doctor. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp gets really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan….Afghanistan or Iraq," he loudly clicks the 'K' sound at the end of the final word, and John just stared. He was in utter disbelief of this man.
"You," John started, and found he had to clear his throat. "You said I had a therapist."
"You've got a psychosomatic limp – of course you've got a therapist. My daughter could figure that out. Then there's your brother."
"Hmm?" John prompted him to continue.
Sherlock held his hand out and John looked at him questioningly. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Your phone please." John looked at him wearily but reached in his side pocket, handing the detective his device dutifully. Sherlock took it and examined it as he spoke. "Your phone is expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flat share. You wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then."He turned the phone over, studying the back. "Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me at this moment wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit of course, is child's play. You know it already.""The engraving," John said quietly.
Harry Watson
From Clara Xxx"
“Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking."
John was absolutely beside himself at this point, and couldn't contain the wonder in his voice. "How can you possibly know about the drinking?" Sherlock merely smiled at the man. "Complete shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone; never see a drunk's without them." Sherlock got a somewhat dark look on his face at that point, but it came and went so quickly John wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not.
The detective handed the army doctor his phone back, and said, "There you go, you see – you were right." John looked at the man, both eyebrows raised now. "I was right? Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock looked out the window again after he said this, and he bit his lip nervously, awaiting John's reaction. John saw this action and realized where Adaline had picked it up from.
Sherlock was sure he had just blown the whole getting a new flat mate thing. He had let his mouth run away again, and he and Adaline were probably going to have to move, yet again. He felt shame wash over him, and a bit of disgust. How was he going to explain this to his daughter?
"That…was amazing."
When Sherlock heard John's words, he whipped his head around to stare at him, shocked. He didn't say anything for several seconds. "Do you think so?" he said coolly, trying not to convey the surprise he was feeling.
"Of course it was," John nodded emphatically. "It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary."
"That's not what people ordinarily say," Sherlock admitted. "What do people normally say then?" John asked.
"Piss off." Sherlock smiled briefly at John who laughed quietly and looked out the window.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
The cab arrived at Lauriston Gardens, and the two men got out and walked towards the police tape that was strung across the road. "Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked while they walked. He just wasn't able to contain his curiosity.
"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker," John explained. Sherlock's chest puffed up a bit, and John laughed at how impressed he looked with himself.
"Spot on, then," the detective bragged. "I didn't expect to be right about everything."
"Harry's short for Harriet."
Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, and noticing this, John stopped as well, looking back towards the man. "Harry's your sister."
"Look," John said, continuing onwards again. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" Sherlock muttered to himself furiously, gritting his teeth together. "Sister! There's always something! Another lesson to impart to Adaline then…"
The two men approached the police tape where they were met by Sergeant Donovan. "Hello freak," Donovan sneered, and John was taken aback by the malice in her tone. "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock cut to the chase, annoyed already. "Why?" she asked stupidly."
I was invited," he explained shortly.
"Why?" she repeated. John realized at that moment that he didn't very much like this woman.
Sherlock sighed to himself, as though trying to gather up the bit of patience he had left. "I think he wants me to take a look."
"Well you know what I think, don't you?"
"Always, Sally," he muttered, and began lifting up the tape.
"Where's baby freak?"
John watched as Sherlock stopped all of his movements. His back became tense and he didn't move for a very long four seconds. Suddenly he took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman. "You didn't make it home last night," he said simply."I don't…" Donovan started. "Who's this?" she countered, looking at John.
John opened his mouth to answer but Sherlock beat him to it. "Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson." Sherlock turned to John with a bored look on his face. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." He paused then, and his nose twitched a bit. "Old friend."
"A colleague?" the woman screeched. "How do you get a colleague?! What, did he follow you home?" she questioned John, and he pursed his lips together in annoyance towards the woman's attitude. "Look," he said, choosing to look at Sherlock. "Would it be better if I just waited and…"
"No," Sherlock said, lifting the tape for him. The two of them walked towards the crime scene. Donovan lifted up her radio to her mouth. "Freak's here. Bringing him in." John heard her comment and shot a glance towards Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Sherlock appeared as though he hadn't heard her.
When they got to the pavement, a man dressed in a coverall walked out of the house, approaching the two men. "Ah, Anderson," Sherlock said to him. "Here we are again."Anderson looked at him with distaste. "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that? It's bad enough you bring your baby freak up here sometimes. Training them young are we?"
Sherlock took another deep breath in through his nose, and when he spoke, he voice was steady. "Quite clear. Is your wife away for long?"
"Oh don't pretend you worked that out," Anderson sneered. "Somebody told you that."
"Your deodorant told me that."
"My deodorant?" Anderson repeated. Sherlock smirked then. "It's for men." Anderson scoffed. "Well of course it's for men! Í'm wearing it!"
"So's Sergeant Donovan."
Anderson stopped and looked around in shock at Donovan. Sherlock sniffed very pointedly. "I think it just vaporized. May I go in?"
Anderson turned back around and pointed at the detective angrily. "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply…"
"No, you look," Sherlock suddenly thundered, and John had to stop himself from stepping back at the man's sudden change of tone. "I can excuse you calling me names. The two of you are blubbering idiots and together have the IQ of a flea." John watched as Sherlock bowed himself up even more towards the man. "However, if the word freak leaves your mouth one more time in concerns to my daughter..if I even feel as though your tongue is trying to form the word, or any other type of derogatory, vile name, I will make both of your lives an absolute living hell."
Sherlock leaned in close to Anderson's face, who at this point looked as though he was trying to get a hold on himself."Do. Not. Test Me." He finished darkly. He shoved himself past both Anderson and Donovan, and John snickered at their pale faces.
"Also," Sherlock started again, and the two of them looked at the man cautiously. "I'm sure Sally came round last night for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."
Anderson and Donovan looked at the detective in horror. He looked at them pointedly, then turned and walked into the house.
John walked past Donovan, briefly looking down to her knees, and back up to her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, making sure the woman knew he was judging her, and followed Sherlock inside.
that’s part 2 over and done with! thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
#Sherlock#Sherlock Holmes#holmes#mycroft#Mycroft Holmes#john#john watson#Moriarty#detective#OC#daddy#sherlock has a daughter#daughter#sherlock prompt#sherlock fanfiction#sherlock x oc#sherlock episode one#sherlock fandom#sherlock father#mrs hudson#jim moriarty#protective#protectivesherlock
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If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 4 (Jack White x OC)
Summary: A time line of Lee’s life after a certain event. Chock full of hardships, odd music choices, and the FBI watchlist. Overall an incredibly important chapter.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, cursing, frank iero
NOTES: Fuck. Its been a while hasnt it? schools a bitch. anyways i thought this was the best way to move the story along. Besides the early days werent really important. well it was, but it was th lead up. Still I think this is pretty damn good. Took me for fuckin ever. I hope you enjoy!
I think I could’ve saved myself from more heartbreak if I just stopped fucking the man that was slowly breaking me, sparing me from the years of emptiness I just floated through. We could’ve only been friends and ended it at that, but I fell in love with him.
It took me a year to realize id made the biggest mistake of my life. He was my mistake. I saw all this like I did relish every moment we had together, like every time he kissed me, I felt my chest grow warm. I never had a bad moment with him. When we fucked it was just me and him, which is so incredibly cheesy, but when you’re that intoxicated by the touch of another, its all you can think about. Nothing else existed. Bad breakups, a growing rift in old friends, the unpaid bills sitting on your counter. The truth. It genuinely was witchcraft on his end. I think the songs he wrote when we were together were actually just love spells.
This went on for a year. I waited for him and meg when they went to the meeting that landed them their first studio album. Hell, I even taught him slide and played on their track “Suzy Lee.” Looking back at that moment always makes me laugh, the irony of it all, how I shielded myself from any truths. I think I realized I loved him when I opened my apartment door to see him with freshly cut hair. The sides shaved, the red just as wild as always but dyed a firetruck red. To this day, its the worst haircut I’ve ever seen someone get, and that day I died with laughter. He was always so confident in his looks, but that day he was in a panic. I had to console him and try to convince him it wasn’t that bad.
“Rosie, it looks like someone glued fake fur to the top of my head.”
The both of us sat cross-legged across from each other on the bed, trying to assess the damage. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Fixing any loose hairs, which was the entirety of his hair. I scooted forward and played with it, trying to find any feasible angles.
“Jacky, it’s not that bad, it looks quite handsome from this angle.” I pretended to style it. There was no fixing it, but I could boost his ego to last until it grew back.
He grabbed the hand mirror sitting next to him and tried every angle. Worry had found its way into
every part of his face.
“Mmm well, I guess it’s not as bad as I thought,” He couldn’t stop touching it. “Thanks, Rosie.” He smiled at me the same way he always did, lips pulled tight, making his face scrunch up with those warm eyes.
I still looked at him and saw the most handsome man, even with that ridiculous haircut.
It never took much to convince him of something or to do something for that matter. If you put any liquid in his hand he’d drink it, I think I watched him drink hand sanitizer on a dare made by Ben. I never convinced him to go on a date with me, though. We always spent our time alone together, holed up in my room. Though back then, I always considered our late-night solo show adventures a good filler. He never noticed how happy they made me. That should’ve been a red flag, but they always just look like flags in rose-colored glasses. I seemed to be an expert at collecting red flags. I convinced myself for years that my time with my ex back in Nashville was normal.
Harriet pulled my head out of ass, though, and brought me here. To more red flags. It’s funny how completely opposite the two of them are. Jack and John (John and John if you want to get technical). John, at first, took me everywhere. He knew everyone and could get in anywhere. He showed me off and always made it clear who he was with. Once he had me fully wrapped around his finger, and we were living together, it switched. I wasn’t allowed to go out, not without his permission. I couldn’t talk to anyone except my bandmates, that was limited too. He held my playing shows above my head. If I was “good,” I could play under his supervision. I mean, he managed our band, he always knew our every move. It’s easy to misconstrue love, confuse what possession is. I was his pet, his thing to show off and shove in a closet until he needed me again. It took years to notice that it wasn’t okay.
The beginning is always just so intoxicating.
Jack just had this air to him, that same confidence as john. He knew he was talented and certainly knew he was good looking. The difference is Jack is humble. He could barely take a complaint from me, and as he grew, he didn’t know how to handle the attention. He didn’t lavish in it as John had, as short-lived as his attention was. Jack and I hid away, our confessions of our true feelings hiding on lyric sheets feet away from the other. That made my want stronger, I never felt I could have him, but we were so close it almost felt like I could have him. Its that moment, though, when you stare at each other with such love and warmth, faces growing so close you could feel their body heat. Your so close you can almost taste it, and that’s the moment he leaves. We didn’t cuddle. We weren’t affectionate. It was his choice. He left after tender moments, he left before breakfast, and he left before we finished the last verse of our song. We never were anything, and we never got anywhere. Me being me, it never was a thought in my mind. My judgment was clouded every time he looked at me with those eyes that pulled me in the first time.
While we grew closer, nothing ever changed, he came over, we fucked, and then wrote together. Sharing the same Camel pack every time. I never thought he shared my feelings for him. He never showed it. He was as open as he was closed. He only let you see what he wanted. That was until me, and the girls were all hanging around during a White Stripes practice. Which was quite common. We all watched each other play, testers for anything new that we cooked up. Meg was weirdly good at knowing what riffs people would like. She always was smarter than any of us would ever be.
That day Jack introduced a new song. It wasn’t entirely new to me. I taught him the parts, I always played the solos. He never quite got it back then. I was overjoyed to finally hear it. None of the girls were too focused on them. They always got stupid high. Jack and Meg’s landlord didn’t quite care if they smoked, not that ever did, though. It was a slower song, and a lot of work was put into it. Knowing him, the lyrics always had just as much care.
He refused to meet my eyes. He didn’t look at me once. His eyes quickly flipping between the wall behind me and his guitar. It was very, obviously intentional. He was a storyteller, he always did it so carefully in songs, hiding the message. This seemed incredibly open. Too obvious. He was hesitant. It wasn’t until the “Chorus” (it could barely be called a chorus) that he started to get a bit more confident. It was apparent he had a lot to say.
Miss Suzy lee
The one I'm speaking of
The question is
Is she the one I love?
Is she the one I love?
That made my ears perk up, my eyes locked onto the floor. Why was I afraid to look at him?
Maybe I was thinking about it too much. My hope tends to get the best of me. Still, this pit in my stomach was growing with each note he played.
She sent me flowers
The name of an incredibly sappy song I showed him
With her tears burned inside
Again it was embarrassingly open
And you know what I'd do?
I would run and hide.
I would run and hide.
Fuck. I think my imagination and reality were clashing. I might actually have finally snapped and lost it.
And the paper
On it was my name
Okay, I definitely did hide the unofficial nickname I made for him. I didn't use it often. I called him “Tree” when I was annoyed with him.
With the question
Do you feel the same?
Do you feel the same?
I knew. I knew he didn’t notice my intentions that day, though he should’ve won an oscar for his acting. He pretended like he didn’t notice.
I think I’m going to legitimately throw up on their ratty couch. I’m going to throw up, and it’s his fault. Jesus, I’m overreacting to a song that’s probably not about me. Fuck I need this to be over so I can breathe. Maybe look up from this thrifted carpet.
Again his words make my head snap up. This time I met his eyes.
To end this tale
The one I'm speaking of
I wish I had an answer, but I just don't know
Is this really love?
I left the room as fast as possible after he said love. I didn’t think I could stomach it. Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ, retribution may be in my future.
Everything changed after that. I couldn’t look at him, I avoided him, the hope would kill me. It was killing me. I’ve always gotten too excited over people, too attached, and whenever this moment came, I spiraled. I had longed for his love for so long, and the idea of getting it overwhelmed me, being around him overwhelmed me. I avoided him, said I was busy every time he asked to hang out. I didn’t even bother to hide that I was making excuses. It took him a week to stop taking my bullshit. Jack was incredibly blunt. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. One night he knocked on our door, and someone other than me answered, and they sent him my way. I didn’t tell the girls my feelings. I was too afraid to say it out loud. I didn’t want to be in love again. I loathed it. I wanted to be the person who could be fuck buddies and be fine with it, but I fall too hard. Every fucking time. It’s inescapable.
My dad always said I loved harder than others and should hold onto it, but it only hurt me.
That night fucked everything up. He didn’t look at me. If he did, it wasn’t for long. For the first time, he looked cowardly. He stormed into my room. I could hear his very distinguishable and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart pounded into my throat with every footstep. He didn’t knock. He always knocked. His hair had grown out, it lost its curl, but it hung in his face just as it always did. He didn’t look smug. He didn’t have his bubble of confidence. He was meek. He was small. I remember his hands flying to his pockets. He did that when he was nervous.
As I said before, he doesn’t beat around the bush. I wish he did that day. Spared my heartbreak for a few minutes.
“Lee, I can’t love you.”
Those fucking words. They rang through my mind for years. Every time I saw him in the news, saw his face in magazines in passing at grocery stores. It felt like id been ripped in half, I was speechless, I physically could not form words. That feeling happened every once in a while when I reminded. Overtime I numbed to it.
`He was married. Can you believe that? I was the mistress and with my best friend’s husband. The moment he pulled his hand out to scratch his face, I saw it. The wedding band that was never there before. I think he wore to mess with me, one last laugh. He knew this would be the end of us ever seeing each other, working together.
He said he kept it off during shows for the brother-sister act, and just took it off before seeing me. Jack was never a coward, but it took him a year to tell him he was married. I hung out with them daily, I watched their dog when they toured, and I never noticed once. He was fucking married. The real kicker is that the girls knew too and didn’t tell me earlier. They let me live on with my sins. I felt so dirty. He just kept talking that day. He didn’t stop. Nervously rambled on, and he never did that. He was quiet. He opened his mouth to say something that’ll either make you cry laughing or make your heart swell. He was whip-smart and knew when to speak. I just let him go until he ran out of steam, tears quietly slipping down my cheeks. Still, stone-faced. The moment he stopped, I just silently showed him out and softly shut the door behind him.
That night, I about committed arson, okay I didn’t, but I sure wanted to. At first, I cried. And cried,… and cried. It was a mess. Soon that turned to me having a small existential crisis and dumping everything on the cashier at the liquor store who definitely knew the others, and was incredibly uncomfortable. We went there a lot. As soon as the alcohol had been bought, it was gone. I spent the night binge drinking and wrecking everything in my room. I ripped up my journals for songs, I set a small fire to my sketches of him, and I very furiously tried to wash the smell of him out of my sheets. I also punched a hole in my wall, which I kept a secret until the girls moved out. The next day I switched to Marlboros, the smell of camels gives me that same gut punch. It was his brand.
I said some not great things to the girls. I blamed them for my downfall for not telling me. I made them my excuse. I shortly left the band. We had tried to do a show, but I was so drunk I couldn’t remember most of the songs. I was also told I was lost my pants at some point.
I moved out of the house and lost all ties to them. I cut all ties to jack. I couldn’t go home, though. I burned too many bridges with my family and friends, a bad habit I seemed to have. I still played shows.
The good thing to come out of my rage and fall into substance abuse was my music. I went through some phases. I was playing my standard stuff for a while, just with a bit more... Anger? Then some months later, in ‘99, the stripe’s first album came out. Of course, I fucking bought it. I kept all their records. I couldn’t let go for some reason. I listened to it on repeat. I was so outraged that it was good. I heard myself in their songs, saw my name in the liner notes, I heard myself in his lyrics. I was obsessed; it was great. For two years, I fought and scratched to get some kind of record deal. I got a two-album deal. I toured nonstop, played with some damn good musicians, though I never was happy.
I lived a life of driving and playing. Most of the time, I had no fucking clue what state I was in. In New Jersey around 2003, I’d made some friends and played with them for a bit, fucking around in their basement. I lived there for a bit. I couldn’t stomach Detroit. I stayed consistently drunk from that night in ‘98 until 2004 when I received a friend’s call, showing me where I was headed.
We talked through it, and both decided to get sober. We both were sick. They sparked something musical in me, though. I started to get heavier, I played punk, I put my aggression entirely into my music. I produced my own stuff then, scraping what I could together. I made that record and went back to Detroit. As painful as it was, I couldn’t go back to Nashville, so I was stuck here. I mostly just fucked around, still living pretty much like a hermit, making music in my basement. When the Elephant came out, I couldn’t avoid hearing The White Stripes. They were an international success. I still collected all their records and listened to them extensively. As time went on, my existence in his lyrics disappeared. As for him, it did for me, I’d given up. It was dumb to be upset over it all these years later, still, thinking of him hurt so much. I was restless. I was bored. I wanted to be back out on the road again.
While I was usually blackout drunk every day, I still loved it. Playing something new somewhere new every day. That’s when my friend frank from my New Jersey days called me up in ‘07 to join his new band. I think he was just as fed up and restless as I was. We played “hardcore punk.” though that's debatable. We were sick of shit and needed to yell about it. It was my last hurrah with my inner turmoil. We finished the album and got onto the FBI watchlist for a political song.
I looked down at my phone to see I was getting a call from “Party Dad.” I knew what this is about.
“Did- did they show up at your door too?”
“Frank, you know they did.”
“Dude was fucking on the FBI’s list!” He was just as excited as I was.
“Hell fucking yeah, we are! You know we were still playing the song.”
“Oh, you know it. We will find a way around what they said. Plus fuck the government, that’s the whole point.”
“Two 30 something-year-olds on the FBI watchlist for a fucking song. This day could not get better.”
See here for the song
And toured. We toured for a while. Our last tour date was actually on my birthday in ‘08. In Nashville, no less. I didn’t tell my family, and surely didn’t expect them to be there. I never saw them, but I did see a familiar face. A significantly grown-up Ben Blackwell front and center. It caught me by surprise, that’s for sure, I slipped up a note or two upon seeing him. Though when we met up after, I was surprised how cool I stayed. I hadn’t seen anyone from my past in the years since. Ben has always been the sweet kid. I could never be mad. After that, we always stayed in touch, and whenever one of us was in Detroit or Nashville, we always met up. We recorded a couple tracks too. He’s always been a hell of a drummer.
The band didn’t live long because of the others projects, but I always worked with Frankie when he asked. I even played drums for most of his last album. I got a call while trying to make a drumline for one of the tracks. It was my mom. I hadn’t spoken to her in 14 years. The last time we talked, we’d gotten into the screaming match to end all screaming matches over my focus and direction in life. She didn’t want me to move, she didn’t want me to pursue music, and she didn’t want me to leave John. She always worried I’d die an old maid. I hadn’t dated since Jack, so I can see her concern now.
She dropped the bomb that my dad was sick. Of course, he was sick of all people. He was the most important man in my life. I hated being away from him. I could never bear to see him, and it turns out I’ve been wasting my time with him. All the tour stops, and I hadn’t seen him once. Guilt filled me. I felt the weight of it all. I felt the same tearing feeling, the same gut punch. I told frank everything, and him being him, he sent me off as quickly as possible to be with my family.
My mom didn’t mention the fight. She just hugged me and sent me to my dad’s room. She couldn’t look at me, though.
The moment I entered the house, I could hear Willie Nelson, a Red-headed stranger. It was always his favorite. My dad never showed his pain. He wanted to show us strength. It was heartbreaking to see him now in this state. I pushed it down. We talked for hours, and I told him everything, good and bad. He was always understanding. He knew my mind and reasoning better than I do.
When Ben invited me to a Third Man event, I hesitated. We see each other frequently now that I’m back in town for who knows how long. He always invites me shows and record release parties. I always declined, even though my feelings have changed, I still can’t see jack.
This time though, he said jack wouldn’t be there, something about his kids. Which took me by surprise, yet didn’t surprise me at all. So I agreed. To my dislike. I love ben, but the thought of being in Jack’s business nauseates me.
I watched the show from behind in the control room. Even though id heard it a million times, Ben did not hesitate to talk me through the live recording process. I was half paying attention, aimlessly looking at the crowd.
Then I heard that laugh, the same from all those years ago.
My heart leapt, panic-filled. I about pushed Ben over trying to get his attention. The footsteps. The heavy thuds came down the polished hallway. I nearly tore ben apart, trying to ask him if there was a bathroom.
I was waiting for my breath. There were two entrances. Both blocked. I could either join the band on stage or run straight into the man I’m trying so hard to avoid. Ben looked so frazzled, trying to calm me down. I felt a shiver run through me, and I suddenly stopped. I was frozen, looking at the hallway.
The bustle stopped, the footsteps stopped, all the people around him stopped in confusion. I locked eyes with him the moment he entered the room. No one dared move. Ben looked terrified next to, and the men around jack were whispering to themselves, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then he spoke, almost like he didn’t believe I was in front of him.
“Rosie?”
#jack white#jack white x OC#jack white fic#nosferatyou writes#If I can be so bold#The white stripes#meg white#leathermouth#frank iero#nosferatyous masterlist#i really said fuck jack lets simp for frankie#nah we love our raccoon boy#im tired#jack white bring but the cut 2020#i like your cut g#*SLAP*#even through this im sure lee was like fuck hes hot#who wouldnt#except fot the stache#fuck the facial hair phase
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Mending Major Problems
My first actual Queliot fic. You can also read it on AO3.
FYI @kickassfu you’re welcome.
Mending of minor objects: a small and useless discipline, just like himself. Small, hazardous, and maladjusted. Fixing a toy plane, a mug, a kite for christs sake. Yet he couldn’t fix the big things. Couldn’t help Julia, couldn’t put Alice back together, fix Fillory, fix magic. None of it worked. Quentin for all his efforts, had in fact made most if not all of those situations worse. Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe Mayakovsky had been wrong. Maybe it came with a curse. Which meant the bigger the problem he tried to fix...maybe he just broke it more.
Sitting at Eliot’s side his fingers worrying the pages of Fillory and Further: The World Within the Walls. As he stared at the familiar pages, he thought about the last month of panic and intense fear; which had come to culmination in such an anticlimactic way. In the end it hadn’t been anything he’d done. Julia had negotiated them a deal.
Alive that had been the deal. They all got out of this alive and wouldn’t ever bother the monster or his sister again. The sister who had been shoved into Julia, only for Julia’s consciousness and god powers to expel her back out into the ether. The monster did not enjoy that, but there hadn’t been anything he could do about it. The influx of powers by awakening his older sister had jump-started Julia’s powers within herself. They’d found the body to hold his sister and then as Julia told it, the two goddesses had parlayed.
Apparently the sister and Julia had come to an agreement. Something to solve the issues that the young goddesses had felt was applicable. So one fresh goddess and a newly awakened goddess worked out a deal for everyone, the entire thing though hinged on the monster returning Eliot to him them. They’d found an agreeable replacement, a god stripped of his spark. With no powers to reawaken, a weak conscious, and no backbone of substance to fight the possession.
Let Persephone deal with the twins if she cared about her son so much, that wasn’t their problem. Reynard would be the replacement for Eliot’s body. The monster’s sister knew a spell that would transfer her brother into him. All they’d had to do was win against Everett, and the library. Zelda had been initially enraged at what they’d agreed too. She had reluctantly agreed it was the only way, and if not then they were in for something far more dangerous. She’d quickly agreed to an amended deal as it saved the majority of the library’s contents from harm.
Everett had proven almost impossible to stop. Even with three gods, seven magicians, and a network of hedges all working together it hadn’t been easy. They’d managed it though and after they’d dealt with Everett, and fulfilled their promise to the young gods who’d been so horribly abused by the greed of man.The binder was burned and destroyed, which would allow them to disappear into obscurity.
They’d retreated to the new Library to lick their wounds.Alice was still in the infirmary with burns on her arms. Kady, Harriet, and Zelda had immediately started releasing magic back into the world. The sister, had in turn found a body that would work forever, and hold her soul encased. Julia had traveled back to Fillory to help ease the influx of magic that had explode through the multiverse with the defeat of the Everett led library.
That had been four days ago, Eliot hadn’t woken up though. Nothing had brought him back. Not Margo beating on his chest, Fen crying over him, and then there was himself talking to Eliot whispering shared memories. The healers at the infirmary couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t waking up as his body was perfectly fine. So they’d taken him back to Kady’s loft so he’d be in a less frantic environment if when he woke up.
After the second day, Margo and Fen had been forced back to Fillory. Something about talking animals revolting or maybe the nymphs were going insane. Quentin if asked couldn’t give an answer. His focus had been solely on the brunette man lying peacefully on the bed. Putting the book down Quentin ran his fingers over the spine of the old much loved paperback.
Julia and Penny 23 were off doing goddess knows what, goddess knows where. Q had promised her that he wouldn’t lose himself in trying to wake Eliot up. Julia and Penny had tried to gain access to his mind, but had been rejected or barred from Eliot’s mind palace. When that had failed, Alice and Zelda had offered to search the library for anything about being unable to wake up following a possession.
“Remember those mornings back in Fillory when the sun would catch the dew just right and refract little rainbows everywhere?” Q murmured, shifting so he could stretch his back out and look around the room. “You would bend the light with Popper 98 and Teddy would giggle for ages.”
“You were always so good with him, especially after Arielle passed. Then we just gave each other a chance,” Quentin laughed, to himself scrubbing a hand over his face. Tears pricking his eyes as he looked down at the love of his life. “Gods, I miss Teddy and Arielle so much. You promised me El, you said I’d never have to do this alone. So you can’t stay in there forever.”
“I just -- need you to wake up.” Standing for the first time in a day-maybe two. His bladder screaming. His stomach knotted and nauseous he moved slowly through Kady’s loft to the bathroom. Wincing at his reflection Margo would call him an idiot. He had school, friends to help, a kingdom to support, and he was wallowing. His eyes sunken, hair growing out again, god he needed a haircut bad. Scrubbing his hands clean and zipping his pants he groaned.
Dragging himself through the loft toward the kitchen. The empty mug from someone who had given him a beverage of some sort in his hand. No one seemed to be around. Which was probably better, Quentin didn’t think he could handle conversation with anyone right now. Turning on the coffee pot that someone, probably Julia had set up before. He leaned against the counter.
None of the books on magical comas had any idea what to do about this, they all said once the spell or the possession had ended, the soul of the original inhabitant would return. If they hadn’t been completely snuffed out. As long as the body wasn’t dead or hadn’t been killed while possessed, everything should be okay. Eliot should have woken right the fuck up. Yet, Eliot was unconscious upstairs, and Q was here making coffee and searching his tired brain for something that would fix this.
“Q, you in there?” Kady’s voice broke through to him finally and he looked up from were his head had been resting on his hands. When had she-god he was tired.
“Not really Kady,” he admitted looking at his fri-acquaintance, honestly at this point he was as close to Kady as he’d ever be. Hew as still not as close to her as Margo, Julia or Alice. But, Kady was here.
“I take it Sleeping Beauty hasn’t woken up,” Kady asked, pouring both of them a cup of coffee. “Cause you look awful Coldwater.”
“Gee thanks, and no he’s still sound asleep,” Quentin murmured, taking the cup she’d slid his way. Offering a gentle smile he sipped at the coffee and let out a bit of tension in his shoulders.
“Why don’t you just kiss him,” she asked, clearly joking, “you love him enough that you were willing to burn the world to get him back. Doesn’t true loves kiss always wake the princess?”
“Har har-” Q glared at Kady before he remembered that Fillory had also been a story “-wait that could work,” Quentin said, bolting back up the stairs to the room he was sharing with Eliot, though Eliot was sound asleep.
“Q it’s not going to work, that’s just a freaking kids story,” Kady shouted, shaking her head feeling bad for the nerd. It was just another disappointment in the making. Sipping her coffee she sent off a quick group text <Q’s trying something dumb, come back in case it doesn’t work.>
Standing in the door way he looked at the prone body of the man he’d lived fifty years with, the king he wanted to protect and guard for all time. Walking slowly over to the side of the bed, praying to Julia as hard as he possibly could that it worked. He leaned down. Eliot’s lips were warm and dry as he kissed him gently, pulling away. Nothing.
“Eliot Waugh you fucking pain in my ass. Get up, or I swear to god I am done,” he whispered, dropping down onto his knees at the side of the bed. Looking at the love of his life, who even with a kiss hadn’t woken up. Burying his head in his hands he started to finally cry. He couldn’t fix anything.
“Brave...for you,” Eliot’s voice was a rasp, Q looked up eyes glossy and cheeks wet.
“El?” Q whispered, cupping Eliot’s face gently as he turned to look at him. Blinking.
“I need to be braver for you,” Eliot coughed out, sitting up feeling musty and gross but no longer locked in his mind. He couldn’t go somewhere he’d never been and the room wasn’t familiar. Also Q’s hair was shorter than he remembered it. He was awake.
“Oh god, I have to get Margo back from Fillory. You’re awake,” Q rambled, looking at Eliot who was blinking and moving around slowly. Pulling himself into a seated position as he looked from Q to the room and back. Pulling away only to have the man in question grab his hand. Intertwining their fingers tightly.
“Q don’t leave me,” he murmured, looking at their joined hands. Q was the only thing he recognized. Q was here, they’d done it -he’d done it. He’d saved him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Q said, switching tactics to pull out his phone. Texting Kady that El was up and to get Margo here asap. He put his phone away and sat on the bed all without breaking the grip Eliot had on his hand.
Eliot was shaken to his core, he’d stumbled across the memories of Teddy and their life in Fillory. He’d made a refuge there, watching his family grow. Reliving the memories in his mind as he waited to either wake up or die, whichever came first. Suddenly everything had started to fade, first the cottage then his memory self, then Teddy and finally Q. Tears started to pour down his cheek.
“El what’s wrong?” Quentin asked, gently running his fingers through Eliot’s hair as the taller man dropped his head onto his shoulder. Sobs shaking his body.
“I was with him Q, I was rewatching all of Teddy’s firsts. Now I’m awake and you’re here. I love that, but he’s gone,” Eliot whimpered wrapping his arms around Q’s waist, feeling broken and tired. Gods he felt so tired.
“Oh El.” He wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tight. Running his hand over Eliot’s back gently. “Teddy is always in your heart, so he’s never gone.”
“So you and Alice?” Eliot sniffed, reading himself for rejection. It was always Q and Alice. It was best to ask now, make sure he didn’t make a fool of himself.
“You have got to be kidding me, I literally give you true loves kiss, and you think I’m back together with Alice?” Q asked, snorting at the thought. “No she’s off helping Zelda and Harriet rebuild the library. I think, or somewhere else, I didn’t really care honestly.”
“So you’re single?” El asked, wiping at his eyes, feeling foolish.
“That depends on you Waugh, am I?” Q asked, looking at the man he’d been madly in love with for almost a year. A man he’d been ready to die for, and one he would rip the world apart brick by brick to bring home.
“Absofuckinglutely not,” Eliot said, more forcefully than he’d originally intended. Cupping Q’s face in his hands he looked into Q’s eyes. “I love you Quentin Coldwater. You’re never getting rid of me again. No more running. No more bullshit. I’m yours.”
“I love you too Eliot,” Quentin said, his thoughts torn. Maybe he could fix somethings after all.
#writing corner#queliot#the magicians#sleeping beauty au#lets all be fucking real Eliot is a princess through and through#playing the part of sleeping beauty fits him#thanks to my dearheart for listening to me grumble and second guess myself about this piece#hope you all enjoy this#my writing
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Super Short Reviews: winter tv part three (and last) 2019:
Perfume (Netflix) – Germany. Another knock out murder mystery from Germany, this one is so dark its similar to the Swedish mysteries. Strong ensemble cast; its clear from the beginning that the disturbing murder is only scratching the surface of many more bad deeds of the past. Naughty naughty!
Informer (Amazon) – UK. Paddy Constantine is as loveable as ever as a CI handler who waffles between looking grumpy and lost. His partner looks like a child who cant decide which is more surprising – that she’s an actor at all, or that she was cast on a show about terrorists. But the star here is Nabhaan Rizwan with his dreamy leading man eyes and biting street smart wit. He makes this show. Werk!!
Diablero (Netlix) – Mexico. The priest looks like Michael Buble which I found exceptionally amusing and distracting. I couldn’t tell from the first 2 episodes if the actors just hadn’t settled into their demon hunting roles yet, or the director couldn’t decide what style he was going for. If they land in the B-movie horror camp I think people could enjoy it.
Deadly Class (SyFy) – Based on the graphic novel. I especially dig the 80s music and the Henry Rollins. You don’t have to be a teeneager to enjoy this – since it takes place during the Regan administration rule, Gen-x viewers will likely get way more of the references than Gen-z. Benedict Wong has great fun as the principal of this school for assassins and Lara Condor is a gem as his star pupil. She even wears a Bad Religion t-shirt in one episode. It was not an historically correct t-shirt but hey at least they tried.
Wayne (YouTube) – 16 year old me would have been OBSESSED with this show, so if you fall into that age group please enjoy the crap out of it for me. This kid makes more trouble in the first episode than most kids do their entire lives. Also anything that makes fun of Southies is great by me. Funny, sad, dark, and awesome -- and huge props to Mark McKenna who takes on the dialect like a native. (And he was also in one of my favourite movie ever Sing Street!! blatant plug)
Selection Day (Netflix) – India. I don’t understand cricket so it took me a minute to get into this... but when the two boys (played by Mohammed Samad and Yash Dhohle) get to stretch their emotional wings my heart was bowled into rooting for them. (Lame attempt at a cricket pun.) Plus who doesn’t love a little magical realism?
The Other Two (Comedy Central) – I laughed. Its a send up of childhood overnight youtube stardom, and crazy people in loveable but crazy New York. Plus Molly Shannon and Ken Marino -- Who doesnt love those two crazies?
Demon’s Path (Netflix) – Hong Kong. You know when you were in junior high / high school and you made bad home movies with people that couldn’t really act and dialogue that wasn’t really good? This is a lot like that. How is a 16 year old on the police force? Its impossible to make a supernatural story line work with goofy acting … but maybe Hong Kong, like Korea, doesn’t consider this goofy acting. Maybe they think all our shows are goofy acting. I dunno.
Black Earth Rising (Netflix) – UK. This is super heavy. You’ve got the Rwandan genocide, the war in the Congo, a big trial at the Hague, and some mysterious events of the past that John Goodman knows but will never tell. Bonus: Harriet Walter!
Four More Shots Please (Amazon) – India. These people are actually speaking English most of the time but if you’re like me you’ll need to turn the subtitles on. Plot: Four plucky young women traverse life and love (or at least sex) in Mumbai. Style: It’s not quite SATC but there is a dance number!! (duh its Mumbai!)
Justice (Netflix) – UAE. The genre is legal procedural. But the style is almost soap opera. And the music is all over the place. Confusing. Still, Fatima Al Taei makes a strong case (pun intended) for herself as a young, intelligent, female lead, and the stories highlight the complex struggles between traditionalism and modernism. Netflix’ first Emirati show.
Sex Education (Netflix) – UK. Tempting to describe this using only emojis (ha ha ha!) But seriously, Asa Butterfield has grown up to be the awkward-ish high school son to Gillian Anderson’s single sex therapist mother. Sooooooo fun to see Gillian in a comedic role!! (and a mod haircut to boot.) Emma Mackey and Ncuti Gatwa shine as the best friends ready to drive or support any potentially comedic ‘therapy.’
Sydney to the Max (Disney) – Yay Caroline Rhea! Another one for the teeny boppers; this show centers on the cute juxtaposition of a girl in seventh grade and her dad’s memories of the same grade in 1992. The girl acts waaaaaay younger than my seventh grader, but hey, maybe these people live in some nice hubba bubblea suburb.
Kingdom (Netflix) – Korea. Visually beautiful – a lot like the Japan episode of Westworld. Government factions fight each other – a lot like the Japan episode of Westworld. Beautful people do monstrous things – a lot like the Japan episode of Westworld. But how you know that its NOT the Japan episode of Westworld is howwwwww slooooooooow eeeeeeveryyyyyyone iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis. I wonder if Koreans think everyone on our shows talk way too quickly.
I Am The Night (TNT) – actually a mini-series but I’m throwing it in here anyway cuz I enjoyed it. Patty Jenkins and Chris Pine reunite to tell a story (mostly fictional) of the real Fauna Hodel and the really bizarre people she meets as she tries to discover who her real family is. I loved the 1960s detailed pictures (shot on Kodak film) of Los Angeles and India Eisley is great in her wounded kitten portrayal of Fauna.
#nabhaanrizwan#henry rollins#lanacondor#bad religion#mark mckenna#fatima al tai#gillian anderson#patty jenkins#india eisley
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can you rec any HP fics (your favorites or Harry as the lord of a bunch of houses after defeating Voldemort or both)
Sure! I’m not active in the fandom anymore, but I’ve got some definite favorites. Some of these are Lord of a bunch of houses, but I’m going ahead and sharing a mishmash (with a lot of Avengers crossovers because MCU has taken over my life.) I’ll star the ones that are the best fit for the Lord of many houses trope:
Runaway Dragon and its sequel A Letter to Mr William Snape have long been some of my comfort fics. Draco Malfoy flees home after his father lashes out against his mother and accidentally kills her (nothing graphic and this really isn’t the central story at all) and Severus Snape comes across him and takes him into his home, which turns out to be in the “bad” part of town, populated by all the outcasts of society - squibs, halfbreeds, people who are eking out a living even if they don’t live up to society’s standards - and this forces Draco to expand his world view. It’s full of masses of cute and super fun and I’m a fan of world building.
*Goblin Communications features the Goblins allying with Harry right from the start and meddling in wizarding affairs. More great world building. There might be a running theme here.
*A Different Beginning Yet more Goblin meddling and allying with Harry!
*Harry Potter in the Claw of the Raven and sequels Harry Potter at the Knees of the Marauders, Harry Potter and the Interlude, and Harry Potter with the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not I just recommend BakenandEggs across the board, really. They do some really fine work. I feel like the title is self explanatory.
Early Retirement this one’s a crossover with Avengers. Always-a-girl Catherine (Harry) Potter has gone into seclusion in the muggle world and is running a bakery in New York city. She’s got a comfortable lifestyle going until one Steve Rogers starts frequenting her shop and shakes things up.
Finding Home AO3 or FFN MOD Harry has stopped aging. He resolves himself to a life of moving around regularly to keep anyone from noticing and tries to avoid connecting with anyone so he doesn’t have to abandon them or watch them grow old and die. Unfortunately, Tony Stark is not so good at boundaries, and once he takes an interest in Harry, he starts chipping away at those walls.
Perception is Everything Severus Snape is left in charge of the students who are staying at school for the holidays. He’s none too happy to hear he’ll be dealing with Harry, but he starts to notice that something’s wrong with this kid and his home life. What’s a long-suffering educator to do but to step in and keep the child safe despite himself?
Resonance and its sequels Revolution and Resolution are a Snape adopts Harry as a young adult series. They’re rich and deep and full of the experiences of growing up and maturing and coming into one’s own with a supportive but not effusive guardian and learning how to depend on and trust that you don’t have to do it all yourself.
*Runaway Wizard Harry is sick of Dursley abuse and makes a run for it after Dumbledore forces him to go back to them. He ends up briefly on the streets and spends some time working in a BDSM club, so be warned that there’s some risque stuff. The Malfoys end up taking him in and helping him learn how to act the part of a proper noble wizard. HPDM and LMSS
*Harry Potter and the Cursed Summer This one has some Lord of many houses stuff going on, but it’s more adventure story than anything. Harry’s family abandons him and he winds up at the Burrow looking for help only to find that the family’s left for Egypt for the summer. Bill’s pretty much on the way out the door for a curse breaking expedition in South America and ends up towing Harry along to act as his assistant. Don’t bother with the sequel - it’s short and unfinished and unlikely to ever be completed. The first story is awesome though.
*Outcast’s Alley Harry undergoes some changes after fifth year that go a bit beyond those standard for puberty. The Dursleys kick him out and he ends up living among those on the outskirts of magical society. Lots of great world building.
I’m mostly recommending completed works, but I’m going to include this one even so - Realizations Harry comes home at the beginning of the summer only to discover no Dursleys and a house with a for sale sign. Any normal kid would consider this an emergency and get in touch with adults, but Harry’s used to being self sufficient. He winds up working in Diagon Alley under a disguise consisting largely of a haircut, a headband, contacts, and clothes that fit. Best summer he’s ever had, bar none.
Dance in the Dark of Night Snape and Harry are both in precarious situations, and Dumbledore sends them out together to keep out of Voldemort’s way. They need to stay on the move, so it’s a backpacking trip, trundling around all over with no one but each other for company. They learn to deal with each other and even start reluctantly forming a connection. HPSS handled in a not-gross way
Yet Another Snape meets the Dursleys Story *gestures to title*
A Hero Dudley is off at school and a class assignment starts to open his eyes to the nature of abuse and the implications regarding his family’s relationship with Harry.
*Make a Wish and its sequel The Hunt for Harry Potter Okay, technically this isn’t Lord of many houses fic, but at its spirit it shares much of the wish fulfillment that makes Lord of many houses so much fun. Harry’s convinced he’s going to die at the hands of the dark lord, and he wants at least one good thing in life, so he decides to take a vacation and really live, just for one summer. He runs away and starts on an anonymous trip around the world. Over the course of the trip he develops new powers, makes new friends, coincidentally and through no intent on his part (he’s largely unaware it’s even happening because it’s Harry) happens to be in the right place and time again and again to enable Death Eaters to arrange for their own demise under bizarre and amusingly improbable circumstances, and develops an international reputation as a bad ass and a heartthrob. He’s not entirely sure how. Also he’s rich now? HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
Paradigm Shift Severus Snape is left to babysit the school and the warding spells on the Dursley home while Dumbledore’s away. Of course THIS would be the time things force his hand and leave him stuck with a depressed kid on his hands who’s convinced he’s going to die- and who promptly makes a run for it at the first possible occasion, determined to make it on his own.
Tony Stark & His Amazing Mutant Platypus A niffler gets into Tony’s lab. No one knows what it is, but it sure loves shiny things, and he has a LOT of shiny things.
A House or a Home Phil Coulson is in every house at Hogwarts.
*Families and Familiars Dumbledore might have plans for Harry, but his familiar is smart and persistent, and Hedwig’s going to protect her wizard. It’s never a good idea to underestimate a Black.
Raising a Wizard Natasha may have been raised Natalia Alianovna, but she was born Mallory Evans. A search for her roots introduces her to an orphaned nephew who could desperately use someone on his side, and next thing you know she has custody over a 6 year old kid who wields some unexpected powers.
*Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart The Weasley boys arrange a birthday trip to Malibu for Harry’s birthday. He ends up having a summer fling with a handsome guy he hooks up with while he’s out there, and comes home to discover that he brought home an unexpected souvenir. But how to explain to a muggle that his male lover has a bun in the oven? Years later, rich and powerful Harry Potter ends up at the same charity event as Tony Stark and they rekindle their flame. Only problem: Harry has a kid running around who’s just the right age to have been implanted during the time that Tony and Harry were first seeing each other.
*Frey of Asgard Harry’s birth father was actually Loki Laufeyson, but this is a well kept secret. Harry is left balancing a world of gods and wizardry, spending summers at Camp Halfblood with other godly offspring, learning about pagan worship from his pureblood peers, and fighting monsters all around in hopes of one day rising to true immortality.
*The Triumph of These Tired Eyes My absolute favorite of the Harry Lokison category of fics. Long and involved and super well written.
*Teeth Harry messed up when trying to learn how to become an animagus and became permanently partially fused with his animal side... which happens to be a dark creature. Now he has to learn to cope with his new instincts and figure out how to keep those developments hidden so the Wizarding world won’t crucify him for it. At the same time, he’s navigating a world that’s no longer as black and white as he thought it was. He and Snape are building a sense of grudging respect and he’s discovering that not all Slytherins are evil. Somehow he needs to come into his own and find his own path.
Some WIPs:
*This Gonna Be Good and its counterpart This Gonna Be Good Remix Avengers crossover - Between the betrayal led by Dumbledore’s forces and Thanos’s armies, the future is looking pretty bleak. Following the death of her newborn infant and faced with the imminent death of her soulmates, always-a-girl Harriet Potter makes a desperate move and turns back time. Maybe with a bit of foreknowledge and a lot of ingenuity, that future can be forestalled. In the mean time, there’s lots of fun to be had while messing with those who intend the harm and simultaneously building up a tight knit family unit of friends and allies. Lots of silly, lots of power, lots of wish fulfillment. Dumbledore bashing, Hermione bashing, Ron bashing, Molly bashing, Ginny bashing. James Potter is alive. Regularly updated.
*Strangers in a Familiar Land The one where Harry is reincarnated as the ruling prince of a hermaphroditic winged alien species (which is in hiding on Earth after the Skrull destroyed their home.) Oh, and as if that doesn’t make his life complicated enough, he’s the Master of Death and mated to Tony Stark.
Mirror of Maybe A magical mirror sucks Harry in and shows him a possible future. He comes back changed, an adult veteran soldier in the body of a child. Something has to change.
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The 10th Annual L.A.O.K. Awards
Wow. Ten years of the Layokies. What a trip. I would like to give my heartfelt thanks to all five of my faithful fans for your readership over the years. In my first ever Layokies post, I named it the “1st (Possibly) Annual L.A.O.K. Awards.” I had no idea how long I’d be working at the Academy, let alone living in LA, but here we are. I bragged about seeing 180 movies that year. I just checked my Letterboxd stats for this year and it turns out I watched...180 movies. However, this year I hit a new personal best for new releases: 125. While this is about half as many as some people I know, some of the first Layokies were based on a field of 60 or 70 movies, so I’ve doubled up on my old self. Funny thing is, I can still look on other year-end lists and find many films I haven’t seen, and even some I haven’t heard of, so the field of films I’ve added are probably in the middle to bottom range of the pack. But someone out there has to watch Tolkien, Gemini Man, The Goldfinch, and Where’d You Go, Bernadette?, so it might as well be me.
In all honesty, my absolute favorite thing about living in Los Angeles and working at the Academy is access to watching movies and being around the general cinephile community, and even a bad couple of hours in a movie theater beats a lot else. Over Christmas break I saw Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker in Shawnee, OK’s own Cinema Center 8.
It was quite a trip going back to this theater after so many years and to think of the love of film that was fostered there. Alas, the picture was pretty muddy, and I’m almost positive they showed it in 2k. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Now, in penance for naming The King’s Speech Best Picture in my first year (lol), I give you five real good’uns for 2019:
Best Film The Farewell The King Little Women Parasite Uncut Gems
Sometimes I touch on a year being good or bad for film in general. Not sure about the whole, but I’ll call 2019 a real SEC year (aka stacked at the top and mediocre to poor the rest of the way down). While I would probably only give one title on this list must-see status (Parasite), these are all definite should-sees. The Farewell made me laugh and cry and cringe. One might even go so far as to say it “gave me all the feels.” The King gave me actual siege warfare and period-accurate haircuts. Little Women hit me with that structure, and at first I was all “hol up,” but then I was all “OK I see you.” Little Women also made me cry because I cry in movies now. (A quick aside, because while I absolutely loved Little Women, it’s not really going to come up again. If you liked the movie and haven’t read the book, please do yourself a favor and make it the next one on your list. You can’t know how great this movie is unless you know how good Beth is. Beth kind of got lost in this one, and you need to know Beth.) Parasite blew me away through its normality (who, having seen The Host, Snowpiercer, and Okja could have guessed that it wasn’t about some actual alien parasite??). And Uncut Gems was exactly as perfect as I expected it to be. And the Layokie goes to... The King
Faithful readers will know that one of my absolute favorite genres is ‘discreet conversation behind castle walls,’ and The King absolutely nailed it. It has everything: leadership position foisted on a worthy but flawed character who doesn’t want it, conversations in tents about battle tactics, love built on almost nothing but mutual respect, and most of all, Robert Pattinson doing a funny accent (it’s just a French accent, but he makes it quite funny). I would have already watched this again five times on Netflix, but I’m hoping and praying for an Oscar nomination that will never ever in a million years come in hopes that I can see it again in the theater during nominations screenings.
The Next Five Six 1917 Honey Boy The Laundromat The Lighthouse Marriage Story Portrait of a Lady on Fire
Best Actor Timothée Chalamet - The King Adam Driver - Marriage Story Paul Walter Hauser - Richard Jewell Joaquin Phoenix - Joker Adam Sandler - Uncut Gems
Another super stacked category this year. You might even say they’re *puts on sunglasses*...Stacked Actors. (<-- This is a really good joke for anyone whose favorite band from 7th-8th grade was The Foo Fighters.) These are all kind of obvious, so I’ll take a second to comment on Paul Walter Hauser and the fact that I gave out a very specific award last year titled “Refuse to Watch - Any More Clint Eastwood Movies” after trying and failing to watch The 15:17 to Paris on a plane (one of the worst pieces of filmmaking I’ve ever witnessed). Then this year Richard Jewell was getting such good buzz, and it seemed like such a good cast, and it was such a low-risk watch (on my second screen at work while doing spreadsheets), that I decided to shamefully renege on my earlier pronouncement and give it a shot. And...it was great pretty good! What is the deeal with Clint Eastwood?? He’s made some of my least favorite movies of the decade (Gran Torino, Invictus, Hereafter was a particularly awful stretch, Sully was pointless, and even parts of American Sniper, which was otherwise tolerable, were absolute cringefests). Anywho, I was very impressed by Paul Walter Hauser’s understated but perfect performance, in which he gets one good chance to blow up and yell at people--which you know I love. I hope he gets nominated, because it would be a great Oscar clip. (My ultimate dream job would be to pick the acting Oscars clips and I would be very very good at it.)
And the Layokie goes to... The Sandman (love that everyone is calling him the Sandman again)
I touched on Adam Sandler “A” in the Best Supporting Actor section of my 2018 Layokies post regarding his performance in The Meyerowitz Stories, lamenting that he hadn’t taken more dramatic roles after Punch-Drunk Love and hoping that good writer/directors would keep casting him. One more wish granted by the Safdie brothers. Adam Sandler’s talent is undeniable. He is truly one of the Great Actors of his generation. I really hope this is a respected-actor-making turn for him, but the upcoming roles on his IMDd--Hubie Halloween and Hotel Transylvania 4--don’t give much hope for the immediate future.
Honorable Mentions Taron Egerton - Rocketman (but only for the phone booth scene) Shia LaBeouf - The Peanut Butter Falcon Noah Jupe - Honey Boy Robert Pattinson - The Lighthouse Jonathan Pryce - The Two Popes
Best Actress Ana de Armas - Knives Out Scarlett Johansson - Marriage Story Elisabeth Moss - Her Smell Florence Pugh - Midsommar Saoirse Ronan - Little Women
Found out last night from my resident celebrity expert Bridgette Smith that Florence Pugh is dating Zach Braff and it absolutely crushed me.
And the Layokie goes to... Elisabeth Moss - Her Smell
Her Smell was the last 2019 film I watched before writing this post, and I was really just looking for something to pass the time. I had been wanting to see it for a long time and noticed it was on HBO, so I pressed play and planned to work on this post while I watched. I couldn’t. I was riveted. The writing, score, and sound design are incredible, but it’s all tied together by Elisabeth Moss’s performance. She’s excellent at being revolting but still has all of those qualities that made her Peggy. You can’t not like her, even though you fairly hate her.
Honorable Mentions Awkwafina - The Farewell Cynthia Erivo - Harriet Lupita Nyong’o - Us (You know I love weird voices, you know I love actors doing weird voices and faces, but this was a bit much even for me. Reflective of Us on the whole, which I thought was interesting but really missed the mark.) Charlize Theron - Bombshell
Best Director Ari Aster - Midsommar Bong Joon Ho - Parasite David Michôd - The King Benny and Josh Safdie - Uncut Gems Céline Sciamma - Portrait of a Lady on Fire
And the Layokie goes to... Benny and Josh Safdie - Uncut Gems
Wired: New directors Tired: Old directors
Boy do I not understand the love for The Irishman and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. I’m not totally against boring movies if there’s a good reason for it (Midsommar was actually quite boring), but these were some of the least compelling films I watched all year. On the other hand, you have these young directors coming out of prestige horror, Ari Aster, Robert Eggers, and to a lesser extent David Robert Mitchell and Trey Edwards Shults, making some of the most dynamic films out there. Reminds me of Roger Ebert talking about early Scorsese in Life Itself (which I can’t find a clip of). Then you have Benny and Josh Safdie doing Scorsese better than Scorsese with literally breathtaking shots like the one below. How they construct such amazing edits out of such disparate takes as the one in the still above is a wonder. They’ll go from five extreme close-ups in a row to a jaw-dropping shot of the inside of a jewelry store zoomed in from across the street. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg on what makes them the best filmmakers working right now.
Honorable Mentions Noah Baumbach - Marriage Story Robert Eggers - The Lighthouse Claire Denis - High Life Greta Gerwig - Little Women Alejandro Landes - Monos Sam Mendes - 1917 Alex Ross Perry - Her Smell Joe Talbot - The Last Black Man in San Francisco Lulu Wang - The Farewell
Best Supporting Actress Laura Dern - Marriage Story Lena Headey - Fighting with My Family Lee Jung Eun - Parasite (The housekeeper) Meryl Streep - The Laundromat Shuzhen Zhao - The Farewell (Nai Nai)
And the Layokie goes to... Laura Dern - Marriage Story
Here’s one for the Laura Dern stan accounts: There’s no question that Noah Baumbach is a talented director of actors, but Laura Dern makes so much out of seemingly not a lot in this role. She truly embodies a wholly unique and three-dimensional character that could have extremely easily been one-note.
Honorable Mentions Lily-Rose Depp - The King Florence Pugh - Little Women Margot Robbie - Bombshell
Best Supporting Actor Timothée Chalamet - Little Women Willem Dafoe - The Lighthouse Shia LaBeouf - Honey Boy Al Pacino - The Irishman Robert Pattinson - The King
And the Layokie goes to... Willem Dafoe - The Lighthouse
For being all: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xT7uR4wNMJs
Honorable Mentions Bill Hader - It Chapter Two Tim Heidecker - Us Sam Rockwell - Richard Jewell Song Kang Ho - Parasite (the dad) Lakeith Stanfield - Uncut Gems
Best Original Screenplay The Farewell - Lulu Wang Her Smell - Alex Ross Perry Marriage Story - Noah Baumbach Parasite - Bong Joon Ho Uncut Gems - Benny and Josh Safdie
And the Layokie goes to... Parasite - Bong Joon Ho
Another genre we don’t get nearly enough of: comedies of errors. A script like this is as sophisticated as any mystery, political thriller, or...some other sophisticated type of script, like uh, I don’t know, they usually just say Chinatown or Witness. I did think it lagged a bit in the third act, but everything that came before it was so tight. Twist after turn after twist, so funny, so shocking. This is such a rare prestige crowd-pleaser that it really does harken back to Hitchcock; if a wide audience can get over watching subtitles, this has to have one of the lowest barriers for entry of any foreign film in a long time. Here’s hoping for a Best Picture Oscar nomination and a wide release. Uncut Gems played at Shawnee’s other theater (titled simply Movies 6), so it’s not that far out of the realm of possibility. But I know people in LA, even that work at the Academy, who won’t watch subtitled films, so getting people to actually go see it is another question.
Honorable Mentions Peterloo - Mike Leigh
Best Adapted Screenplay Jojo Rabbit - Taika Waititi Joker - Todd Philips & Scott Silver The King - David Michôd The Laundromat - Scott Z. Burns The Two Popes - Anthony McCarten
And the Layokie goes to... The King - Joel Edgerton and David Michôd
It wouldn’t be the Layokies without me championing one film that no one else cares about. I just really really liked The King. Timothée Chalamet is so hot right now! How did this get so overlooked?? 😭
Best Documentary Apollo 11 Honeyland It’s a Hard Truth Ain’t It Maiden Mike Wallace is Here
And the Layokie goes to... Maiden
As I’m in the process of producing a documentary right now, it pains me a bit that my top two picks in this category are almost entirely archival. I thought Mike Wallace is Here was so well done, and the director did some amazing things playing with aspect ratio. But Maiden came into port first. What is wrong with people who don’t appreciate sports? This xkcd comic (who I usually appreciate) makes me so angry. Tell the women who worked their asses off for years to claw their way into this male-dominated space and literally made the world a better place that their efforts were no more than a weighted random number generator on which to build narratives! Clearly the narratives are there, but it rarely has as much to do with the result of the competition as it does the effort that it took individual human beings to get there. See also: Undefeated (currently streaming on Netflix).
Honorable Mentions Fyre They Shall Not Grow Old Satan & Adam
Best Foreign Language Film Duh Parasite
Biggest Missed Opportunity Pokemon: Detective Pikachu (How the first live action Pokemon movie should have happened)
Not Even Close to Enough Monsters Godzilla: King of the Monsters
Most Unbelievable Cosplay Tom Hanks as Mr. Rogers
Absolutely Crushing the Sensitive Dad Roles Billy Crudup in After the Wedding and Where’d You Go, Bernadette?
Good in Everything Too obvious, but Florence Pugh - Fighting with My Family, Midsommar, Little Women Robert Pattinson - High Life, The Lighthouse, The King Adam Driver - The Dead Don’t Die, Marriage Story, The Report, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Destigmatizing Fatness Award Dolemite is My Name The Laundromat Skin Almost Hustlers but then not (Lizzo got what, 30 seconds of screentime??)
#WasteYourAudience’sTime2019 The Souvenir The Proposal
Didn’t Actually Deserve to be Driven into the Ground Dark Phoenix The Kitchen
Just Plain Liked It Triple Frontier
Most Forgettable Tie: Tolkien and High Life (not for me, but it took me a full 10 minutes to convince Becca that she watched this, and I had to describe the masturbation chamber aka fuck box in a lot of detail before she got it, and I’m still not totally convinced she remembers it)
The Something Award Motherless Brooklyn
The Nothing Award Judy
Worst Movies 1. Rambo: Last Blood 2. Between Two Ferns: The Movie 3. Abominable 4. The Lion King 5. Godzilla: King of the Monsters 6. Wine Country 7. Jumanji: The Next Level 8. Frozen II 9. The Goldfinch 10. Pet Semetary
Best Scenes
Avengers: Endgame - The hammer, the portals, all the nerdy/normie BS, what can I say call me a basic bitch but there were some genuine holy schmoly moments in this that made it a really fun movie to experience in the theater
A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood - When Mr. Rogers uses the puppets on Lloyd
Captain Marvel - When she went full shit on ‘em
Climax - The opening dance sequence (the only thing that made this movie worth watching)
The Farewell - Too many to choose from, but I think my favorite moment in this movie was when they were taking photos of the fiances and another couple stumbled in on them, claiming they were lost. That couple leaves and we never see them again. These are the kinds of details that make movies come alive. Absolutely brilliant.
Gemini Man - The motorcycle chase (a rare scene actually made better by the high frame rate)
John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum - The knife fight in the knife store
The King - The conversation between Hal and Catherine
Knock Down the House - When A.O.C. debated the incompetent proxy
The Last Black Man in San Francisco - Skateboarding into town
Little Women - The “break-up” scene between Jo and Laurie (not a spoiler)
Midsommar - The drug trip scene (not that I’ve ever done drugs but this was the most accurate drug trip scene of all time) and the Ättestupa ceremony. Also found out in the video linked above that Ari Aster pronounces it Mid-SO-mar?? I thought that was the dumb way to pronounce it but apparently I’m the dumb one. Also also, another amazing detail worth mentioning: I absolutely loved that every time they were in their community sleeping barn, there was a baby crying somewhere on the second floor that we never see. Such a perfect way to put the characters and the audience on edge and indicate that there’s something wrong here.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood - While I didn’t care for this movie, the scene where Brad Pitt went to the movie ranch and when he fantasized about going to the film set were absolutely dripping with tension, which made them as just as riveting as the rest of the movie wasn’t
Parasite - When the other family comes home early
The Peanut Butter Falcon - The scene after they come out of the corn field and share one of their first genuine moments
Uncut Gems - *Sarah Palin voice* All of ‘em, any of ‘em. But seriously the finale with the Celtics game
Us - The initial home invasion and the visit to the Tylers’ home (Tim Heidecker and Elisabeth Moss)
The A.V. Club also does a best scenes list at the end of the year, and I love writing mine first and then seeing what they came up with. I’m always surprised at how many we match on. Just goes to show that a good scene is universal. I also enjoyed some of theirs that I overlooked here, including from Her Smell, Bombshell, Ad Astra (I almost included the moon chase myself and thought the baboon scene was equally compelling), and Portrait of a Lady on Fire.
Stupidest Scenes Every other John Wick 3 scene
Deserves Discussion The Dead Don’t Die
This movie was a lot of fun. But then it also completely sucked? Not really a Jim Jarmusch fan in the first place, but this had so many awesome elements to it: a great cast, great soundtrack, really fun and unexpected ways of breaking the 4th wall, but then it was also pointless and boring. I would love for someone to tell me why this is a good movie after all, but judging by its complete absence from the end-of-the-year discussion (or any discussion), I’m guessing no one cares enough to mount that challenge.
Best Visuals Alita: Battle Angel Aquarella A Hidden Life Honeyland Midsommar Monos
Many LOLs It Chapter Two Jojo Rabbit Parasite
Best Song Ready or Not - The Hide and Seek Song (why was this not submitted?)
youtube
Best Soundtrack Waves - Never have I already known so many songs on a film’s soundtrack; it’s almost as if Trey Edwards Shults is another white guy around my age with the same interests as me...
Worst Accents Midway
Started But Never Finished Cats Cold Case Hammarskjold Genndy Tartakovsky’s ‘Primal’ - Tales of Savagery The Highway Men High Flying Bird Queen and Slim Spies in Disguise
Didn’t See Ash is Purest White Atlantics The Beach Bum The Body Remembers When the World Broke Open (still really want to see this one) Clemency Diane Invisible Life Luce Shadow Synonyms Transit Woman at War
Absent on Purpose Pain & Glory Ford v Ferrari I think these are the only two contenders that I’ve seen and haven’t mentioned. I actually liked both of these movies quite a bit. Just didn’t stand out for me in any one category I suppose. But then also: Booksmart Brittany Runs a Marathon Just Mercy The Mustang
Hah!
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Soccer Moms, Cookies & Hillary Clinton
Before the Russian interference in the election ... before the demonizing of a woman candidate for President ... before books about “What Happened” and hand-wringing over a sexual predator in the White House .... before all of THAT
.... there was this thing about cookies and soccer moms and a war of words with Hillary Clinton.
Last night on Twitter, some people asked me why white women overwhelmingly voted for Donald Trump, despite everything they knew at the time about him and the Access Hollywood tape. I’ve had a full year to think about this, because the morning after the election, I was stunned along with the rest of you.
And I have a theory, and I don’t think it’s that far off. It started in 1992, when Hillary’s husband, Bill, was running for POTUS, and a quip that Hillary made which raised the ire of soccer moms across the country.
But let me set the stage before I explain this:
See, 1992 was a unique time for women in America. I was 27 years old and at my third newspaper, The York Dispatch in York, Pennsylvania, covering education issues. This was a time when women my age heard from our mothers, aunts and grandmothers how “lucky” we were that they had blazed a path for us to break out of the Ozzie and Harriet 1950s lifestyle. They’d led the charge for us behind Gloria Steinem, and we were finally being accepted as “equals” in the workplace. We were expected to give these women our undying gratitude for their sacrifices. We were expected to carry the torch into the 21st century, abandoning home and hearth for career ascension and entitlement.
Except most of us rejected the dream.
We became a generation of soccer moms. We rejected the idea that women had to “have it all” and opted instead for the stay-at-home mantra, carting our kids to Little League and becoming presidents of PTAs.
Why, you may ask?
Frankly, I think it was a daughter-mom rebellion thing. Many women of my generation were still smoldering from their childhood memories of moms who worked late, who opted to bake brownies out of box mixes (if they baked at all), who left us to fend for ourselves and care for our siblings at home while they chased their career dreams. We were smarting. We were angry at our mothers. And goddammit, we were going to be the moms to our children that they hadn’t been for us.
We were the children of selfish baby boomers who thought they could treat us like dolls that could be tossed aside when something more “interesting” came along in their careers.
Now although I shared many of these feelings with my cohorts, I actually was not living the “mom” existence. I had followed my own career dreams to become a news reporter and was achieving my goals. But I understood the general feeling out there, because I shared it. I had been a latchkey kid starting at age 7, despite living in a two-parent home.
Enter, Hillary Clinton.
Hillary was the brash, smart, young wife of the Arkansas governor running for President. After the first Bush presidency, which had landed us in a war with Iraq, we were all ready for a change. The Clintons understood the country’s mood and soared in popularity.
And Hillary wore these big chunky headbands over a pageboy haircut that became a “thing.” I had more than one of those things and always felt a little sassy putting them in my hair. She was someone to emulate, from her discourse to her own unique fashion statement. People seemed to like Hillary a lot.
That was until the “cookie” comment.
Hillary brashly told a reporter one day that she wasn’t your run-of-the-mill housewife.
“I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies and had teas, but what I decided to do was to fulfill my profession which I entered before my husband was in public life,” she said.
That’s when things got interesting. It wasn’t really as much of what she said as the way she said it -- and what it represented to the soccer moms. It was yet another older woman scolding them for choosing a path that feminists thought would set women back.
They bristled at that. No ... come to think of it ... it was more like a cat fight of the century. I remember it clearly, because I felt torn about it personally. I understood why those women were angry. How dare someone tell them that being a mom at home wasn’t fulfilling? And how dare someone remind them of their childhoods, when they wanted their mothers’ attention but could not compete with corporate America?
On the other hand, I also agreed with Hillary. I was pursuing my career and felt like women were not doing everything they could to stay in the workplace and fight for their equal place. I admired her, and Bill got my vote that year BECAUSE of that comment.
Most women my age -- and who were white, college-educated MOMS -- didn’t see it that way. They were livid. And they never let that anger go.
Guess what else.
They raised daughters. And these were moms who stayed home with their daughters. And these daughters, these college-educated younger white women ... also were taught at an early age about the importance of staying home.
When 2016 rolled around, the white women voters who went for Trump were actually not voting for him as much as they were getting back at Hillary.
Women have long memories. Women carry anger for a very long time. And when given the opportunity, women WILL have their revenge. They took their revenge in 2016.
You may think I’m over-generalizing, but I still think about those cookies. I still wonder if Hillary had measured her words a little bit differently -- if she had tried to understand why those women had chosen to stay home and bake cookies and have teas -- she might have seen a different election result.
So yes, the Russians meddled, no question.
But if I could turn the clock back and be there when Hillary sounded off about cookies, I would have shoved one in her mouth before she could speak and told her to shut the hell up.
#Hillary Clinton#What Happened#Hillary Clinton cookies quote#feminists#Donald Trump#2016 election meddling#Russians
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More Human Than Meets the Eye-Ch.2-A Study in Pink, Part One
A/N: I don’t know if anyone’s keeping up with this story on this particular site. If you are, here’s the next chapter. Again, I have a fanfiction account under grace-adalyn. Anyway, here’s part 2!
Previously: "I'll be back very soon," he promised quietly. Adaline said nothing, only gazing at her father very seriously for several seconds. She bit her lip and creased her eyebrows and John had to fight back a smile at the adorableness. He didn't dare move for fear of interrupting the father-daughter moment. She nodded then, and Sherlock moved towards her, grabbing her small body in a tight hug before kissing the side of her head. He stood to his full height once again, and bounded outside.
"The game is on!"
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Sherlock called for a taxi and soon the two of them were headed for Brixton. They sat in silence for a while. Sherlock fidgeted on his Blackberry phone while John stole nervous glances between him and the outside scenery. Finally, Sherlock lowered his phone.
"You have questions," he stated. John noticed that he didn't pose it as a question. "Yeah, where are we going?" he started.
"Crime scene. Next?"
"You have a daughter."
Sherlock paused; he wasn't expecting that to be the next question. "…yes," he drew the word out a bit. "I apologize for not telling you about her when we first met. I realize that living with a child isn't exactly ideal for some people but…"
"No, no it's alright," John interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't really mind. She's adorable," he chuckled. "Isn't she?" Sherlock agreed, smirking. "I'm quite attached to her myself."
"If you don't mind me asking, where's her mother?"
"Dead," Sherlock answered concisely. "Oh my…I'm so sorry. That was so uncouth of me. I didn't think…" the army doctor began sputtering. "Oh it's fine," Sherlock reassured the man. "She died about seven years ago. Very close to the time Adaline was born."
"You raised her all on your own then?" John inquired. "Somewhat," Sherlock said simply. He didn't make a notion to elaborate. John felt as though he'd already pried far too much at this point, so he quickly moved on.
"So, uh, who are you then? What do you do exactly?"
"What do you think?" Sherlock countered, looking outside.
"Well," John began, hesitant, "I'd say private detective…" "But…" Sherlock prompted.
"…but the police don't go to private detectives."
"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job." "What does that mean?" John asked, completely overcome by his curiosity now. "It means," Sherlock started, "that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."
"The police don't consult amateurs."
Sherlock looked away from the window at that moment, and John almost felt bashful with the look he was giving him. He stopped himself from retracting his statement. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised."
"Yes I was. How did you know?" John asked him, leaning forward in his seat. "I didn't know. I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room…It was quite obvious that you were an army doctor. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp gets really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan….Afghanistan or Iraq," he loudly clicks the 'K' sound at the end of the final word, and John just stared. He was in utter disbelief of this man.
"You," John started, and found he had to clear his throat. "You said I had a therapist."
"You've got a psychosomatic limp – of course you've got a therapist. My daughter could figure that out. Then there's your brother."
"Hmm?" John prompted him to continue. Sherlock held his hand out and John looked at him questioningly. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Your phone please." John looked at him wearily but reached in his side pocket, handing the detective his device dutifully. Sherlock took it and examined it as he spoke. "Your phone is expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flat share. You wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then."
He turned the phone over, studying the back. "Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me at this moment wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit of course, is child's play. You know it already."
"The engraving," John said quietly.
Harry Watson
From Clara
xxx
"Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking."
John was absolutely beside himself at this point, and couldn't contain the wonder in his voice. "How can you possibly know about the drinking?"
Sherlock merely smiled at the man. "Complete shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone; never see a drunk's without them."
Sherlock got a somewhat dark look on his face at that point, but it came and went so quickly John wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not. The detective handed the army doctor his phone back, and said, "There you go, you see – you were right."
John looked at the man, both eyebrows raised now. "I was right? Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs."
Sherlock looked out the window again after he said this, and he bit his lip nervously, awaiting John's reaction. John saw this action and realized where Adaline had picked it up from. Sherlock was sure he had just blown the whole getting a new flat mate thing. He had let his mouth run away again, and he and Adaline were probably going to have to move, yet again. He felt shame wash over him, and a bit of disgust. How was he going to explain this to his daughter?
"That…was amazing." When Sherlock heard John's words, he whipped his head around to stare at him, shocked. He didn't say anything for several seconds. "Do you think so?" he said coolly, trying not to convey the surprise he was feeling.
"Of course it was," John nodded emphatically. "It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary."
"That's not what people ordinarily say," Sherlock admitted. "What do people normally say then?" John asked.
"Piss off." Sherlock smiled briefly at John who laughed quietly and looked out the window.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
The cab arrived at Lauriston Gardens, and the two men got out and walked towards the police tape that was strung across the road. "Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked while they walked. He just wasn't able to contain his curiosity.
"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker," John explained. Sherlock's chest puffed up a bit, and John laughed at how impressed he looked with himself. "Spot on, then," the detective bragged. "I didn't expect to be right about everything."
"Harry's short for Harriet."
Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, and noticing this, John stopped as well, looking back towards the man. "Harry's your sister."
"Look," John said, continuing onwards again. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" Sherlock muttered to himself furiously, gritting his teeth together. "Sister! There's always something! Another lesson to impart to Adaline then…"
The two men approached the police tape where they were met by Sergeant Donovan. "Hello freak," Donovan sneered, and John was taken aback by the malice in her tone. "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock cut to the chase, annoyed already. "Why?" she asked stupidly.
"I was invited," he explained shortly. "Why?" she repeated. John realized at that moment that he didn't very much like this woman. Sherlock sighed to himself, as though trying to gather up the bit of patience he had left. "I think he wants me to take a look."
"Well you know what I think, don't you?"
"Always, Sally," he muttered, and began lifting up the tape.
"Where's baby freak?"
John watched as Sherlock stopped all of his movements. His back became tense and he didn't move for a very long four seconds. Suddenly he took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman. "You didn't make it home last night," he said simply.
"I don't…" Donovan started. "Who's this?" she countered, looking at John. John opened his mouth to answer but Sherlock beat him to it. "Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson." Sherlock turned to John with a bored look on his face. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." He paused then, and his nose twitched a bit. "Old friend."
"A colleague?" the woman screeched. "How do you get a colleague?! What, did he follow you home?" she questioned John, and he pursed his lips together in annoyance towards the woman's attitude. "Look," he said, choosing to look at Sherlock. "Would it be better if I just waited and…"
"No," Sherlock said, lifting the tape for him. The two of them walked towards the crime scene. Donovan lifted up her radio to her mouth. "Freak's here. Bringing him in." John heard her comment and shot a glance towards Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Sherlock appeared as though he hadn't heard her.
When they got to the pavement, a man dressed in a coverall walked out of the house, approaching the two men. "Ah, Anderson," Sherlock said to him. "Here we are again."
Anderson looked at him with distaste. "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that? It's bad enough you bring your baby freak up here sometimes. Training them young are we?"
Sherlock took another deep breath in through his nose, and when he spoke, he voice was steady. "Quite clear. Is your wife away for long?"
"Oh don't pretend you worked that out," Anderson sneered. "Somebody told you that."
"Your deodorant told me that."
"My deodorant?" Anderson repeated. Sherlock smirked then. "It's for men." Anderson scoffed. "Well of course it's for men! Í'm wearing it!"
"So's Sergeant Donovan." Anderson stopped and looked around in shock at Donovan. Sherlock sniffed very pointedly. "I think it just vaporized. May I go in?" Anderson turned back around and pointed at the detective angrily. "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply…"
"No, you look," Sherlock suddenly thundered, and John had to stop himself from stepping back at the man's sudden change of tone. "I can excuse you calling me names. The two of you are blubbering idiots and together have the IQ of a flea." John watched as Sherlock bowed himself up even more towards the man. "However, if the word freak leaves your mouth one more time in concerns to my daughter..if I even feel as though your tongue is trying to form the word, or any other type of derogatory, vile name, I will make both of your lives an absolute living hell."
Sherlock leaned in close to Anderson's face, who at this point looked as though he was trying to get a hold on himself.
"Do. Not. Test Me." He finished darkly. He shoved himself past both Anderson and Donovan, and John snickered at their pale faces. "Also," Sherlock started again, and the two of them looked at the man cautiously. "I'm sure Sally came round last night for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."
Anderson and Donovan looked at the detective in horror. He looked at them pointedly, then turned and walked into the house. John walked past Donovan, briefly looking down to her knees, and back up to her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, making sure the woman knew he was judging her, and followed Sherlock inside.
A/N: I know this ended in sort of a weird place, but I really prefer my chapters to be shorter. I feel like I lose myself if they're too long. thank you all so much for reading!
batman out!
#Sherlock#sherlock fanfiction#john watson#mrs. hudson#mycroft holmes#moriarty#sherlock x reader#sherlock x oc#sherlock has a daughter
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