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corner-stories · 1 month ago

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before the storm, after the flood (act 2)

Jean Kirschtein. Mikasa Ackerman. Post-Canon. Gardening. Borrowed Sweaters. Games of Chess. Collarbone Kisses. 19449 words. (ao3.) || (act 1.) || (act 3.) || (epilogue.)

Now.

The Second Walk.

As to be expected, the trek to Jean's cottage is accompanied by a view of the ocean, the dirt underneath her boots, and a breeze that plays with the ends of her hair. The walk feels longer this time, a feeling that is not helped by the sack currently slung over her shoulder.

It’s noon when she arrives at his little homestead. She is greeted by the same charmingly quaint cottage painted a lighter shade of grey, the same arid garden beds, and the same coastal sun warming the land.

Adjusting her hat to get a better view of the building, Mikasa stops in front of the porch and tries to spot the owner through the windows. When she doesn’t see a soul within the empty house, she adjusts the sack over her shoulder so that she's holding it by her side and starts making her way to the barn at the back.

The door of Jean's shack-turned-studio is propped open with a rock. As Mikasa gets close she spots a familiar furry blob resting inside the workspace, a creature lying on his back in a block of sunlight.

Soon Hugo opens his eyes and spots her on the grass. With haste he flops over and gets onto his four legs, shaking briefly before dashing out of the barn and onto the grass. His entire backside is wagging in a classic expression of unbridled canine joy, letting out high-pitched squeals of absolute delight as he nearly jumps up on her. The same beady brown eyes and pointy ears greet her like an old friend. Unable to hide her own smile, Mikasa sets her sack on the ground and kneels down to acknowledge the dog.

Hugo squeaks like the goofball he is and licks her face. In response, Mikasa showers him with all the pets and hugs that he deserves, happily running her hands through his short, dark brown fur.

“Yes, I missed you, too.”

After a minute of playing with the dog, Mikasa grabs the goods she had hauled all the way from the market and heads into Jean's studio.

The building itself is somewhere in between a shack by the sea and a small barn. It's taller than she last remembers, though saying it has a second storey would be generous. She guesses that like the cottage, the place had been halfway built before Jean came along and finished the job, turning the shambles of a building into a space where he could paint to his heart’s content. The wood doesn't look as new as the material of his actual home, but it seems just as sturdy.

As Mikasa steps in she realizes that she's never been in a painter's workspace before. The place meets her expectations of being some flavour of mess, with a paint-splattered workbench on her left and a collection of dirty aprons and rags hung to her right. Organized on a shelf are the tools of Jean's trade — wooden pallets that have yet to be cleaned, glass jars that have been rendered milky grey now holding clean brushes of every size, and various tubes of watercolour paint — some are fresh and unopened while others have been squeezed and compressed to utilize every last drop.

Despite the signs of life in every part of the studio, Mikasa has yet to find the artist himself. She can’t imagine that Jean simply left the door open and left Hugo alone in his workspace.

She looks around until she spots a canvas set up on an easel — his most current project, she guesses. On it is a mix of greens, blues, and yellows that create the image of a vibrant grass field underneath an endless sky. It's unfinished, but as she steps closer she spots a small reference photograph on the closest table, a print placed on top a stack of many. She steps closer to get a better look at the picture. On the new medium is a field of flowers on a sunny day and a castle in the distance far enough to blend with the clouds in the sky.

As she picks up the photograph, she notes that it's not a sight that she can recognize, so she assumes that it exists off the Island. She wonders what kind of people he manages to get commissions from and regrets not asking him more about his craft last night.

Soon Mikasa calls into the barn —

“Jean?”

“Huh?”

The voice comes from above. She turns around and looks up, spotting an area of the barn that’s elevated on the support beams, a structure that would usually hold bales of hay had the building been used for its original purpose. But instead of various blocks of dried straw, the loft now holds a variety of canvases, some are fresh and untouched while others are finished works left out to dry.

Napping on the floor of the loft is the artist himself. A meter or two above her, Jean is on his back and looking upwards, his eyes closed as he rubs his tired face. He looks exhausted despite the day being relatively young, perhaps a secondary effect of the work he does. He appears the same to how she left him yesterday — the same head of unkempt shoulder-length hair, the same battered trousers and boots, but his old sweater having been swapped for an even older collared shirt.

He takes a breath before sitting up and getting into a position where his legs dangle off the edge of the structure. Once his eyes settle on her, she can see the same kind of surprise he showed the day before, this time with a lot less gut-wrenching shock.

But still, everything in the way he stares implies that he didn’t expect to see her again.

“Welcome back, I guess?” Jean says, unsure of what to make about his old friend coming all this way again. “I thought you left.”

“I missed my train,” Mikasa explains.

He raises an eyebrow. “You did?”

“Well, I didn’t miss it exactly. I just… I didn’t go.”

“Oh...” Hunched forward, Jean keeps his hands clasped together on his lap, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “...and why’d you do that?”

Mikasa holds up the burlap sack and pulls out a single, tiny spud. “I got these for you.”

Jean begins to look even more perplexed. “You got me… potatoes?”

“They’re for your garden.”

“I thought you said it was shit.”

“I did, but…” She takes a breath, slips the potato back in the sack, and tries to fight the wave of embarrassment causing her chest to tighten. “...you could plant these there. Make it less shit.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, that’s a good idea.” His hand goes to his hair again, a habit of his that she’s beginning to get used to.

Jean looks behind him to the various paintings he’s set up to dry, then slips off the loft.

The drop is short, his well-worn boots hitting the studio floor with a distinctive thump. Undeterred by her presence, he walks past her and goes to his largest workbench, where he gathers up the stack of photographs she had briefly rifled through. As she watches him separate his main reference photo from the bundle, Mikasa swears she sees the view at Eren’s hill in the pile.

Jean crosses the space and puts the remaining stack on his shelf. “I’m a little busy though.”

Mikasa doesn’t hesitate to pull the sack back over her shoulder. “It’s okay, I’ll do it.”

She walks out of his little workshop and steps onto the grass. A beat passes before she hears Jean say —

“...well, that’s awfully nice of you.”

Her eyes fall upon the sight of the sea, once more taking in the way the beach looks under the sky — it’s only now when she realizes that she had missed it. As to be expected, Hugo is rolling around in the grass, but the second he sees her he scrambles onto his legs and dashes up to her. She scratches the spot between his ears before hearing the sound of whistling behind her.

“Hugo! Here, Buddy!”

With haste the dog rushes back to his master. When Mikasa turns around she sees Jean having stepped out of his workshop. On the grass in front of his studio he kneels to greet Hugo, running his hands through his dog’s fur before glancing up towards his visitor. The look of confusion and hesitation on his face seems to have dissipated. Now he appears more amused by her actions than anything else. He gives a friendly smile, a look that she returns.

But as accepting as Jean appears to be, she’s compelled to ask —

“You’re okay with this, right? Because if not I can leave and I can-”

Jean cuts her off. “It’s fine, Mikasa. Really.” He stands and scratches his head, squinting slightly in the sunlight. “I’m just uh… surprised you came back.”

Mikasa lets out a stiff chuckle. “I am, too, actually.”

Before she can say anything else she turns around and begins heading to the front of the cottage. Despite the familiar sights, sounds, and scents of Jean’s homestead filling her senses, she swears that she can hear him speak amongst the noise.

“It’s alright, Boy,” he tells Hugo. “She’s just sticking around.”

For a reason she doesn’t even know, his words make the smile on her face just a little bit wider.

…

Borrowing.

Jean gives Mikasa the tools to help her work, a hoe and shovel from the corner of his workshop, a bucket that’s seen better days, and a rusted spade that looks older than both of them combined. He even offers a pair of trousers from his laundry line that can stand to get dirty, which she accepts without hesitation. Though in hindsight she wishes she thought of something like that herself. The notion reminds her that some parts of her plan had not been entirely thought out.

Nonetheless, she changes from her skirt to his clothes in his cottage. When she emerges onto the porch and pulls the leather suspenders over her shoulders, she expects Jean to have disappeared into his workshop for the rest of the day. To surprise she finds him on the grass near the front of the cottage.

Jean is playing with Hugo by a tree in front of his home. He waves a stick in front of his dog’s face, then with all his might he throws it as far as he can and watches his faithful companion rush into the grass to retrieve it.

Jean turns her way and sees her adjusting her hair. As she can no longer wear it in a ponytail, she takes the ribbon off her sunhat and wears it like a headband to keep the strands out of her face. As she fastens the line of silk, she catches Jean’s eye and realizes that she’s starting to get used to the way he looks at her — whether he be slightly bewildered to see her again or elated that she’s here.

Despite her growing comfort with being near him again, she can't ignore the occasional nervous pang that fills her chest, a sensation that had plagued her for most of last night’s dinner. When it's not tempered by a jar of wine or the distraction of Hugo causing a mess, it’s hard to deny how being in his presence causes something to grasp her from within.

She’s not sure where it comes from or why the feelings are so sporadic. Is it because he's changed over the years? Or has she? Has enough time passed that the Mikasa Ackerman standing in front of him now is no longer the one from his memories?

Last night Mikasa had learned that she and Jean were not as far apart as she thought, despite the five years between now and then. Dinner had reminded her that he's still the man who she once knew, even with the physical changes. He still holds himself with a distinct willingness to care, a gentleness he obfuscates with his snark, a strength that can build houses and a sensitivity that paints masterpieces.

And he had even forgiven her for everything, having bestowed her a sense of absolution even if she doesn’t think she deserves it. Beyond his words, he delivers it through things like the casualness in how he speaks to her now, the fondness in his eyes, and even his willingness to be around her again.

Even the fleeting feeling that she's wasting her time is halted when she glances across the grass to see Jean looking at her so tenderly, a look that she can recall seeing across the dinner table now under a new light. Suddenly, her thoughts that maybe he’d prefer it if she left him alone for the rest of time are nowhere to be found.

Now more assured, Mikasa grabs one of the tools Jean had given her — the shovel — and steps off the porch. By that time Hugo has returned to his master's side with a stick in his jaws, which Jean takes before launching back towards the field.

After Hugo runs off, the affection in Jean’s eyes remains as he looks her way, something that makes Mikasa wonder why she had been riddled with doubts in the first place.

Soon Jean leaves Hugo with her and heads back into his studio, allowing Mikasa to finally get to work.

The beds of dirt prove to be as dry as a desert on the hottest day of the year. As she sifts through the soil little clouds of dust get thrown in the air. Even if she knows how to remedy the situation, she laments not being even more prepared to tackle the main problem. Then again, it's not like she had a pack mule to haul supplies all the way from town.

Hugo proves to be good company as she performs the chore. As he’s more suited to the role of a housepet than of a war dog, the canine opts to rest in a beam of sunlight on the porch while she works, something she absolutely does not mind. Every few minutes, Mikasa will allow herself a moment to admire the loaf napping in the sun.

To fix the issue of the arid dirt, Mikasa digs in the grass far away from the beach and gathers some soil with a bit more life. She takes it to the beds one bucket at a time, a time-consuming act that covers the once-clean trousers that Jean had lent in dirt. As she takes her time building a pile by the garden bed, her thoughts are occupied with whether she can cobble together a wheelbarrow from the junk inside of Jean’s workshop.

At one point of the task she’s tired, rubbing sweat off her forehead, and lamenting how she’s not as strong as she used to be. Barely a decade ago she had lived a life that required her to be at her peak and never anything less. Now she's here and stewing in the fact that even shifts at the Orphanage don't push her this hard.

Before she can get too wrapped up in her thoughts, she sees Jean stepping out of his studio. As he arrives at the front of his cottage she notices the newer bits of paint on his forearms, fingers, and shirt. There's even a little bit stuck in his hair. He wipes his hands with a rag as he approaches her, looking slightly more exhausted than before, but brightening up once he’s in her presence.

Mikasa is just beginning to dig at the beds as he gets close to her.

“You need a bath,” she tells him in place of a proper greeting.

Jean looks her up and down, something impudent coming to his eyes, then reaches towards her.

His movements are slow yet her heart skips a beat as his hand approaches her face. In another life she would have reacted to such a motion with her fist — but in this one she simply lets Jean’s knuckles caress her cheek and wonders if they’ve been in this position before.

Jean's hand hovers near her face before pulling back to show her a leaf pinched between his fingers.

“You’re one to talk,” he says with his own kind of snark.

Her beating heart continues to race. She prays he doesn’t notice the heat on her face as she rakes her fingers through her hair.

“Thanks,” she says when the only thing she finds in her bob is a very tiny twig.

“Want some coffee?” Jean quickly asks, a distraction she’s secretly thankful for. “I’m making.”

“Coffee sounds nice,” she accepts as she turns and refocuses on the garden beds. Looking away from him seems to be the only thing to quell the latest instance of her chest feeling restless and tight. “Thank you.”

…

Then.

In The Garden.

Every day the Ambassadors are given some kind of respite between peace talks. Most of the time it involves coffee in one of the many dining halls or tea in one of the many sitting rooms, but today fares differently. Instead of enjoying food and drink within the confines of the building, the group are given the privilege to stretch their legs and escape the four walls, something Jean thinks is motivated by the dreadful storm that had plagued Mitras last night.

Free from the tie around his neck, he sits against a tree in Historia’s garden, admiring just how quickly her housestaff managed to clear the branches and debris. Lying on the grass next to him is Klaus, a dog with black and white fur that the Queen has lovingly employed as a house pet and farm dog. The canine rests under a ray of sunlight, allowing the perfect angle for Jean to balance his sketchbook on his knee and draw Klaus with a stick of charcoal.

Scattered across the yard are the rest of his comrades. Sitting at a table are Reiner and Pieck, the latter having brought her chess set out for a rematch under the sun. At a bench by a bed of roses are Connie and Historia, who chat like old comrades instead of like a Queen and a royal subject. Underneath the shade of a different tree is Annie, who enjoys a glass of lemonade as Armin rests his head on her lap. Even the de facto leader of the Ambassadors needs time to nap as his lover caresses his hair.

As Jean shades the contrast in Klaus’s fur, he glances up at the yard to see the heir to the Paradisian throne treating the royal gardens like her personal playground. Princess Maria Valeria Constantina Frieda — or Val, as her mother insists she be called — kicks leather a ball across the grass and cries out in joy as it rolls to her playmate. Mikasa holds a handful of her skirt as she passes the ball back with a lot less force.

Mikasa looks to be in her element in the presence of a child, easily forgetting the worry of last night and embracing something more bright. Whether the smile on her pretty face be a front for the little Val or a reflection of her true feelings, Jean doesn’t know. What does know is how beautiful the sight of Mikasa playing with the Princess is, a memory he will forever associate with the presence of a bright, blue, endless sky.

Jean watches Val kick the ball towards the tree that shelters the Ambassador’s resident tiny blondes. It hits Armin’s leg and startles him awake. To spare the Princess the sight of an annoyed Annie and a groggy Armin, Mikasa gestures for Val to stay put and rushes off to grab the ball.

As Mikasa heads to the other tree, the Princess turns around and runs to Jean. He expects her to kneel in the grass and play with her royal dog, but instead she remains standing and tugs at his sleeve.

“Up! Up!” Val chirps. "Horsey!"

Jean chuckles but doesn’t resist. “Again, Your Highness?”

Val nods so fast that the ribbon in her golden hair almost goes undone. “Yes! Yes!”

In no position to resist a royal request, Jean heeds to her commands and stands. For very good reason he towers over the three-year-old. Leaning down, he takes little Val into his arms and lifts her onto him so she is sitting on her shoulders, her stubby feet hanging over his torso. Then like a powerful steed, Jean dashes across the garden with long-legged strides, happily parading the Princess around like it’s his only purpose in the world.

Jean has done this with the Princess before, as Historia was keen on letting her old comrades socialize with her daughter. Even though each and every one of them had a chance to lift the toddler, it seemed that Val had taken a liking to him the most. For what reason he doesn’t know, but in his years of life Jean has learned that some things in the world just cannot be understood. At the very least he knows that there’s something utterly heart-melting about the way Val looks at him, like a newborn puppy finally laying eyes on its loved ones. That in itself is enough to make him adhere to her every whim.

As he makes his rounds across the garden, Jean hears laughter filling the air. In the corner of his eye he can spot Pieck politely giggling at him after devastating Reiner in another round of chess. Even Queen Historia stops her conversation with Connie to chuckle at Jean being her daughter’s preferred horse.

When he finally stops to catch his breath, Jean is in front of the tree providing shade for Armin, Annie, and Mikasa. Still beaming brightly, Princess Val hangs onto Jean by his hair and waves to the trio with her free hand. Despite the tiny fingers clutching at him, Jean can’t hide his grin as he watches his friend’s reactions. Armin goes from disoriented to delighted in the span of a second, Annie hums, and the already serene expression on Mikasa’s face gets just a bit prettier.

Jean’s eyes linger on her a little longer than the others. To say that the sight of it all doesn’t make his heart race would be a complete lie.

…

Sketches of the Past.

At night Mikasa’s quarters are far more quiet. By candlelight Jean sits on the side of the mattress that he slept on last night, noticing how different the room feels when the roof is not being pelted by rain.

Mikasa sits with her back against the headboard and seems far less stressed than she did before. Having brought over his sketchbook as a conversation starter, Jean keeps his eyes on her as she slowly observes each page. As she looks over the most recent creation — that being of Klaus in the garden — he tries to gauge her reaction to his work, but as to be expected her eyes are still as steely as ever.

He doesn’t often show his art to people, and when he does it’s usually to ask the subjects of his drawing if he got their good side. There’s a whole section near the start of his sketchbook filled with Connie from different angles, as a year ago the Ambassadors boarded a ship for a week-long journey and Jean had no other way to pass the time.

Even when he’s not being shuffled around like a piece of cargo, sketching is Jean’s preferred way to stay busy. His drawings may never be as detailed as Armin’s fancy photographs, but there’s something about the sensation of marking a medium that keeps him sane, a calmness that comes with focusing on something in front of him and trying to replicate it on a page. The feeling of charcoal between his fingers will always trump that of a camera, no matter how much Armin raves about the clicky-ness of the shutter button or the crispness of the lens.

After admiring the sketch of Klaus for long enough, Mikasa flips the page and arrives at a drawing of a mountain — a large, snow-capped peak underneath a cloudless sky. Jean notices her eyes widening very slightly, as well as the subtle tilt of her head as she takes the image in.

“Where is this?”

“Hizuru.”

Mikasa meets his gaze. Immediately, he can sense the unease behind her dark eyes.

“... right.” She takes a moment to breathe and calm herself. “Kiyomi may have said something about you guys heading there.”

“Yeah.” Jean nods his head, mindlessly rubbing his feet against the silken sheets of the bed. “It was a while ago.”

“What was it like?”

“It was…”

Jean’s not sure where to start. A lot of the places he’s visited over the years begin to look the same, the sight of gargantuan footprints where civilization used to be blending into one. Camps of people still working together to tend to the survivors of the Rumbling, passing out any available food and providing shelter to those who need it. He remembers the sky above burning so bright and blue as a sinking feeling permeated his heart, a heavy reminder of how many lives were lost on the ground below his feet. A similar restlessness inflicts him during negotiations for peace, where the side of him that knows unity is worth fighting for is at war with the part of him that fears it's all for naught.

When he looks at Mikasa she’s still anticipating his answer, so Jean clenches his fist and tries to recall anything about Hizuru that doesn’t remind him of the reality he lives in.

He manages to remember the tree he sat at when he had some time to sketch, when he rested against the trunk and drew the mountain depicted on the page in front of her. At the moment of drawing the world around him felt calm, and at that time of year in Hizuru the trees that remained were slowly sprinkling small, pink petals from their branches. Jean can remember said petals collecting in both his hair, clothes, and the pages of his sketchbook, and how he was still dusting them off his shoes a week after leaving the land.

“...beautiful,” Jean soon tells her. He unclenches his fist and his hand goes to the sheets again, where he feels the material between his thumb and forefinger. “What’s left, at least.”

Sensing the dreary look now creeping back to Mikasa’s face, Jean tries to change the subject in any way he can.

“Do you talk to Kiyomi often?” he tries.

“Sometimes.”

“About what?”

“Usually about how I should visit Hizuru,” Mikasa answers. “And I always tell her that I have work.” She sighs, exasperated. “I don’t know why she keeps trying.”

With the weight of the initial subject matter off his shoulders, Jean chuckles.

“I think that’s why Kiyomi says that you should visit ,” he teases. He's tempted to nudge her playfully like he does with Connie and Armin, but decides against it. “I’m sure Queen Historia could get you some vacation time if you ask.”

Mikasa looks to be giving it a second's thought before internally deeming it a bad idea. “I guess,” she says before turning the page.

The next drawing she sees is one that makes Jean grin. Etched in lines of ink and coloured pencil is another dog, one with short yellow fur, a pair of pointed ears, a conical snout, and big beady eyes. He can't remember the exact name of the breed, but the elderly man who owned the dog said that it was native to Hizuru and a symbol of national pride.

“Check it out,” he tells her.

He can recall everything from the way the canine ran up to him as he sketched by the tree, to the way the owner rushed over before apologizing profusely. Apparently, after living in one of the survivor camps for so long the dog was dying to greet any visitors, a notion that apparently translated to trying to piss on said visitor’s shoe.

“That’s Yuzu,” Jean explains, the fondness evident in his voice. “He was a little shit, but he was fun.”

Mikasa brightens up considerably and Jean’s heart soars.

“I can tell,” she replies, amused.

She turns the page to find another filled with a variety of doodles, most of which are depicting Yuzu’s facial expressions — ranging from soft and appeased to energetic and excited.

“You really like dogs, don't you?” Mikasa remarks.

“They’re nice to be around,” Jean answers, shrugging. “Sometimes more than humans.”

“Ever thought of getting one?”

As appealing as it would be to have a constant companion by his side, the logistics of the idea makes Jean sigh.

“I would if I didn’t have to travel so much,” he admits. “But that's not gonna stop anytime soon.”

He's always had a soft spot for dog. Even as a child, Jean remembers being drawn to the strays that roamed the streets of Trost. His mother always advised him against it, but more than once he snuck out to feed bits of bread and cheese to a mutt known to frequent the district's alleyways. The feeling of said mutt happily eating from his palm was worth the inevitable lecture from his mother.

His little dream had slipped his mind once his life became more chaotic, and not just because Jean had become witness to canines bred to maim and mar and nothing else.

The concept of actually owning a pet had only re-entered his mind more recently, like when he lovingly drew little Yuzu into his book or spent the afternoon sketching a sunbathing Klaus.

“I could see you with a dog,” Mikasa admits, clearly in approval of the idea.

Jean smirks. “A big ol’ strong one?”

There is a beat before Mikasa shakes her head. “No… a tiny one. The kind that’s about…” She holds her hands in a way that resembles how one would hold a loaf of bread. “...this big? Maybe a fluffy one.”

Jean scoffs while Mikasa looks serious enough to tell him that she's not joking. He can picture it somewhat, attending peace talks with a little puffball in his arms or trailing after his feet.

“I’ll think about it,” he decides then and there.

It’s certainly not practical in his current position, but what does he gain from acting like it could never happen? Maybe for his own sake he could benefit from acknowledging that his life as an Ambassador, an existence distinguished by the tie around his neck and being shuffled around to every corner of the globe, won’t last forever. Even if he doesn’t know how it will end or where he’ll be when it does, what he does know is that he’ll have a whole life to live when everything is said and done.

The evening doesn’t carry on for much longer before Jean realizes that he's done his job. The thing he had set out to do — that being to check on an old friend and ensure that she won’t be haunted by anything tonight — had been completed. So like a gentleman he slips off his side of the mattress.

“I think we should call it a night,” he tells her. Now standing, he adjusts the unbuttoned shirt currently hanging from his torso.

Although something falters in her once placid face, Mikasa manages a nod. “Right, we should.”

She closes his sketchbook and hands it over to him, but Jean raises his hand up to refuse.

“You can hold onto that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” A casualness remains in his voice. “You can keep looking. Just give it back to me in the morning, sound good?”

Once more Mikasa nods and Jean returns the gesture back at her. He walks to her bedroom door, but looks over his shoulder to keep his eye on her for just a second longer.

“See you in the morning.”

Mikasa connects her gaze to his, holding a stronger sense of composure than she did not too long ago.

“See you, Jean.”

Jean leaves her quarters and shuts the door behind him. It’s only when he’s out of sight does he realize how tired he is. With a yawn he walks barefoot across the hallway, a space illuminated by nothing but the moonlight from the window.

He enters his room as the exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him. Rubbing his tired eyes, he promptly discards his shirt and slips under the sheets, utterly lacking the energy to do anything else. Despite being unused to material this plush, the smoothness of the silk against his bare chest is suddenly able to lull him to sleep. He closes his eyes and rests his face against the pillow, sighing in relief as he sinks into the mattress. Before he knows it slumber washes over him like high tide.

An hour later Jean hears a doorknob turning. Dazed and confused, he opens his eyes and looks in the direction of the sound. At this time of night the moonlight has gotten dimmer, and thus he can barely make out the sight of the door opening. The hinges creak as a familiar shape in a white nightgown slips into his room. She moves like a ghost in the dark as she closes his door and creeps towards his bed.

Jean goes still, his heart feeling tight in his chest. The sight of Mikasa traversing the floor of his quarters is soon followed by the feeling of her weight settling onto the other side of the mattress. Like the night before she faces away from him, bundled comfortably in the sheets. There’s only a little space between them, something that is occupied by sheets and blankets. He’s expecting her to say something, anything to make the circumstances a little more clear, but as he lies on the mattress with his eyes affixed to her nothing comes. The silence of the room drones on and on.

For his own sanity and comfort, Jean pulls the pillow out from underneath his head and places it between him and Mikasa. He hopes it will make her more comfortable, even if the nerves he’s looking to soothe are his own.

He’s tempted to speak up, to say something while he still can. But as the moments pass Jean’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. He breathes in and out, getting used to the unfamiliar sleeping position before greeting slumber once more.

…

In the morning Mikasa is gone, just like before, but unlike last time his heart feels less heavy as he embraces the day.

…

Now.

Prolonged Interlude.

Jean makes enough coffee for the both of them and serves it in ceramic mugs instead of his metal teacups. Just like before they sit on his front stoop so she can admire the view as the heat off the drink warms her fingers.

It’s only now when Mikasa realizes how tired she is. The chore had taken more out of her than she expected and she wonders if it’s because she lacks the proper tools to make things more efficient or if she’s no longer the soldier she once was. A distinct sense of ache stings her joints as she nurses her coffee.

While she rests Jean sits beside her, his back against one of the porch's supporting beams as he takes a break from painting. Hugo places his head on his master’s lap, happily accepting between-the-ear scratches as Jean talks about whatever’s on his mind. He ends up telling her the story of how he had gotten the furball in the first place, speaking so much that his own drink remains next to him, forgotten.

Two and a half years ago he was in the midst of finishing the half-built cottage just up the coast. During a visit to town to pick up an order of reasonably-priced lumber, he had retreated to the local watering hole to both rest and refuel. It was under the tavern lights that Jean overheard a conversation between Seb the Barkeep and a local man who made his living by breeding dogs.

Mere smalltalk between a Painter and a Breeder led to Jean learning of the man’s current dilemma. One of the dogs being trained for military work was faltering in the curriculum, proving to be far too docile for what was expected of the breed. The canine was barely a year old, but the Breeder already feared that it was not reaching the standards that the New Eldian Army imposed on their war dogs.

Despite being saddled with a medley of responsibilities, Jean — or rather, Jehan — asked the Breeder if he could meet the problem dog.

One thing led to another and now Hugo lives a quiet life by the sea, the biggest problem he’ll ever face being whether he’ll nap in the grass or in the lap of his beloved human.

The story makes Mikasa smile just before she takes the first sips of her coffee. She catches sight of Jean scratching Hugo between the ears, the fondness in his hazel eyes looking different in this proximity. The loving way he looks at his napping companion makes her heart feel warm, like a proud father to his child. There’s something assuring in knowing that Jean isn’t alone as he lives his new life — that of an isolated existence so far from what she ever thought he wanted. At least when he wakes up in the morning, pre-destined to a fate of being elbow deep in watercolour paint, he has someone to keep him company.

Jean looks up and the subtle upturn of his lips says it all. At this point she’s seen that look a dozen times last night, when the biggest thing between them was a dinner of seared scallops and jars of white wine. But unlike that evening, Mikasa feels bold enough to ignore her beating heart and call him out on it.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks, trying to keep a sense of levity to her voice.

Flustered, Jean looks down. “Sorry. It’s just… memories.”

Her heartbeat doesn’t slow. She takes a pull of her coffee before changing the subject to calm her nerves.

“Why do you go by Jehan? Aside from the… obvious reasons.”

“Because I needed something to cover my ass,” Jean answers, though it feels halfhearted. He finally reaches for his own mug and takes a sip. “And all artists use aliases, it’s a whole thing. It’s a small price to pay for all this.”

He doesn’t even need to gesture around him to tell her what he’s referring to. The ocean view, the wind that tousles his hair, or the cozy home that he had built with his bare hands.

“It’s a nice place, Jean. It really is.”

He looks away from her again, a blush creeping at his cheeks as the smile on his face gets just a bit wider.

“Thank you.”

Mikasa gets halfway through her coffee before Hugo opens his eyes. He lifts his little head off of his master’s thigh before hopping off the porch and onto the grass. Similar to before, he finds a spot underneath the sun to lie down and rest, a sight so adorable that it makes her nearly giggle.

Soon Jean is standing with his coffee in hand. He takes a longer pull as he begins to walk.

“I should get back to work,” he says before moving around his cottage again.

Mikasa decides to follow his example. As nice as the view is, she should end her prolonged interlude and continue the job she set out to do, even if she already knows that she’ll have to come back tomorrow.

But as she stands and finishes her last bits of coffee, she’s unable to take her eyes off Jean as he slowly walks to the back of his property, where he disappears into his studio once more.

…

Crabbing.

Gardening reminds Mikasa of when she was young, back when the worries in her world were a lot smaller. She has some memories of planting potatoes with her Mama, but like everything in her life she remembers the sensations a bit more vividly — like the cool soil against her fingers, the sun warming her hat, or the playful way her Papa laughed when she entered the house covered in dirt.

Things have changed over the years, yet the peace of mind that she associates with horticulture has stayed the same.

As of now Hugo is at her side, playing in the grass as she toils away in the arid garden beds. Every few shovels she’ll stop her chore to admire his cuteness or give him some much-deserved pets. It’s a good distraction from doing anything more productive, but makes her wonder how Jean gets anything done with such a cute blob around.

Soon she finishes prepping the beds, the lifeless soil having been replaced with something more fertile. She draws lines in the dirt with a shovel, then wonders if she should ask Jean if he has anything she can use for compost. It certainly can’t be hard to procure fish bones around these parts.

When she goes to the porch to retrieve the bag of potatoes, Hugo suddenly perks up. He stands, takes a second to shake the blades out of his fur, then zips past her and towards the side of the house.

Mikasa follows the dog and sees Jean exiting his workshop. Hugo goes to his master’s legs and receives some loving head pets as Jean keeps walking. Like a gentleman, Jean gives her a kindly nod before slipping into his home from the back entrance.

Mikasa returns to the porch and begins fishing through the potato sack in search of the smallest spuds. By now her hands are nearly stained brown, the soil having found its way onto her palms, fingers, and underneath her nails.

As the thought of scrubbing herself clean comes to mind, Jean walks out of his cottage, the dog slipping through the door soon after. Jean is still dressed in the same paint-stained shirt, ratty trousers, and leather boots that she swears are from their Scouting days. He is holding a steel cage the size of a basket, a bundle of thin rope, and two buckets — one is empty and the other is holding what appears to be inedible fish scraps.

“I’m going to have to come back tomorrow,” Mikasa tells him upfront.

Jean nods, unbothered. “Fine by me.”

He steps off the porch and onto the grass, where he is promptly joined by Hugo. As the dog plays around his legs, he turns to her.

“Wanna take a walk?”

“What for?”

“Dinner,” Jean says as he slings the bundle of rope over his shoulder. “Hope you like crab.”

Seeing no need to refuse, Mikasa nods.

The walk up the coast takes about twelve minutes. In that time Hugo prances around the beach like a deer in a dog's body. He very happily runs into the surf, rolls in the sand, then repeats the process over and over again.

The sight of it all brings a smile to Mikasa’s face, but every time she glances at Jean she is greeted to the eyes of an exasperated dog-owner who will inevitably have to clean a beach’s worth of sand from his couch later.

When Jean is not sighing at his dog’s antics, he fills the silences with another story.

He tells her of how he built the house. As of now he still doesn’t know exactly who attempted to build a cottage by the sea and abandoned it halfway, just that two-thirds of a home had been left to rot on the coast before Jean discovered it. It’s certainly not the strangest thing one can come across when drunkenly stumbling up the beach, a detail that Mikasa isn’t sure she needed to know but will now be trapped in her head moving forward.

Something about the remains of a dream had struck a chord with Jean, a notion that was possibly aided by the place only needing exterior elements and several coats of paint. Over the course of a few months he had spent days completing the cottage and nights recovering at the local inn, soothing his sore muscles in the bed and bath before doing it all over again. Lumber in this area isn’t exactly expensive, but he needed more than he expected to get the job done. It still pains him to think of how little savings he had left by the time he finished his new home.

When Jean wasn’t nursing bruised thumbs from wayward hammer swings, he was applying wood stain to the exterior of his home. When he wasn’t calling in favours to help install the windows, he was borrowing horses and carts to help haul everything over. To this day Jean still owes people for all that’s been lent to him, but he doesn’t mind.

Soon the roof became adorned with tiles, the porch had been freshly stained and sealed, and what was meant to be a shed in the back back had been transformed into a spot where Jean could perform his craft. As he explains how he built his studio with whatever materials he had left, Mikasa wonders if Jean ever considered a career in carpentry on top of painting.

After completing the cottage, Jean moved in and expected nothing more than a quiet life by the shore and the perpetual weight of a paintbrush in his hand. But barely a week passed before a handful of buyers began walking up to his door, as the formerly half-built home up the coast had suddenly become of interest to those looking for new property.

And evidently, Jean said no to all of them. Mikasa isn’t sure if it’s because the offers were too low, too high, or because his little corner of the world was never for sale in the first place. She can see it now — Jean still bandaging the nicks on his calloused hands as a well-dressed gentleman from Mitras tries to sweet-talk his way into purchasing a summer home, Jean being given a slip with the offer before shaking his head, and Jean being unbothered as yet another wealthy buyer leaves his property with their pride hurt.

Mikasa isn’t an expert in the art of real estate, yet her instincts tell her that the value of Jean’s cottage could easily replenish what he took out of his savings to finish it. But no amount of money could convince him that selling the place was favorable to actually living in it.

As the sight of a small dock on the coast comes to view, Mikasa thinks of all the answers and explanations Jean had thrust upon her and realizes that there’s still a lot that she doesn’t know.

As they move forward, a different thought keeps itself tucked in the back of her mind. Mikasa thinks of all the time Jean had spent between the port town and his would-be home, then wonders how truthful he was as he began to settle amongst the locals. Even with the peace accords being signed all those years ago, she knows that a piece of paper won’t change the public opinions on the “traitors.”

The fact that Jean managed to build a new life for himself at all should speak enough, but the reality of his current existence being so detached from the rest of the world speaks just a bit louder.

As she looks at him now with his scruffy beard, chin-length hair, and the ill-fitting shirt that hides the build of a former soldier, she gets the impression that the locals knew him as “Jehan” from the start.

Soon the two step on a dock that looks older than time itself, a structure that stretches farther into the sea than those she’s seen at lakes.

Jean brings her and Hugo to the very end, and at the edge of the sea he kneels and places his crabbing equipment down. She expects him to ask for help, even if it’s just to make her feel useful, but he instead avoids her gaze as he gets everything in order.

Mikasa has nothing to do but cross her arms and watch as he uses twine to tie old fish heads to the wiring of the ring cage. He takes said cage into his hand, stands, and tosses it forward. It flies in the air for a second before hitting the water and sinking underneath the surface, the only thing tethering it to him being the length of rope in his fist.

Minutes of silence pass after the trap disappears below the surface, giving Mikasa a chance to admire the ocean from a different angle. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get bored of the way the waves caress the sand and rocks, or how every once in a while a flock of seagulls will let out a cry as they soar underneath the endless sky.

When she refocuses on Jean she watches him work in fascination. She compares his task of crabbing to the few times she’s fished at the stream near her home, a process that’s not remotely as intricate and often accompanied by the trees of the forest.

Eventually Jean lifts the cage from the water and inside are three crabs that have been lured by the bait, crustaceans with reddish-brown shells. He is quick to grab them from the trap, toss them into a bucket, then throw the whole contraption back to the water. He repeats this process a few times and she continues to observe him, internally anticipating that he’ll ask her for a hand yet that moment never comes. She’s not sure how long they’ve been standing by the water by the time Jean has procured an entire bucket of shellfish.

“And that’s dinner,” he says, tossing the last two crabs into the metal container. He starts gathering the rest of his equipment into his arms.

For a second Mikasa catches sight of Hugo rushing across the dock and back towards the beach, where he hops onto the sand and begins rolling around.

“Do you do this often?” she asks, looking back to Jean.

“Yeah.” He starts wrangling the rope, little drops of water slipping down his fingers. “Gotta eat somehow.”

“Seems like a lot of effort.”

“So is walking all the way from town two days in a row,” Jean says without hesitating. His expression remains neutral as he stands and holds the bundled rope towards her. “Hold this for me?”

Mikasa feels her face go hot as she takes the rope.

“Thank you.”

He turns away with both the cage and buckets in hand, soon walking down the dock and towards the beach.

She follows him and they don’t talk on the way back to the cottage.

…

Then.

Chess and Confess.

Sleeping next to her the first time had been an accident, a byproduct of his intentions to make sure she felt safe on a stormy night. It’s something he never expected to happen again, yet the evening after had proved Jean wrong.

Her slipping into his room had been an unexpected occurrence, as was her climbing onto his mattress and sleeping next to him for a second time through her own choice. They didn't even speak about it in the morning, attending the usual group breakfast on opposite sides of the table. Jean didn’t mind and neither did she, as before either of them would know it they would be drawn to the same old boardrooms to partake in the same old meetings that are certainly taking their sweet time.

It’s only when Mikasa returns to his room the following night that Jean begins wondering if he should get used to this.

It doesn’t take long for them to fall into a routine, and by the time that they do the Paradisian Peace Talks have been going on for almost two weeks. As per usual he spends most of his waking hours at a table full of diplomats, politicians, and foreign dignitaries. His tie will often feel tight around his neck as he watches Armin lead their quest for peace, chipping in when necessary like the Ambassador he is.

Mikasa fares differently, often being present for one meeting a day, a fate that is much more merciful than his own and results in him not seeing her as often as he would like.

There’s a day where Jean is standing at a window in one of the palace’s sitting rooms, nursing some coffee between meetings as the other Ambassadors continue to chat behind him. More often than not he’ll catch her in the garden, watching fondly as little Val turns a woman worth a thousand soldiers into her playmate. And when Mikasa is not pushing the Crown Princess of Paradis on a swing or passing a ball across the grass, Jean sees her walking through the garden either alone or with company.

There’s one occasion where he sees Mikasa and Historia sharing a stroll amongst the roses, giving him the impression that she and the Queen had grown closer over the years.

There’s also an early morning where Jean is rubbing the sleep out of his eyes at the start of his meeting. Upon glancing out the nearest window he sees Mikasa walking on a path in the garden with Kiyomi. As Jean’s mind begins to wander in the midst of the discussion, he wonders if Kiyomi is continuing her attempts to get the last Azumabito on Paradis to visit Hizuru. He also wonders if his sketches of the snow-capped mountain and the cherry trees may have swayed Mikasa’s opinion on the matter.

Nights are more quiet and gives Jean more time to talk to her in private. Because even if a storm isn’t currently ravaging the land, something compels Jean to help get Mikasa’s mind off of whatever she’s running from.

He begins showing her the trinkets of his travels that he keeps in his suitcase. He shows her his sketchbook again, where she makes sure to take in every drawing and painting he’s made. He’ll mention the empty cigarette case on his nightstand, lamenting the lack of actual cigarettes inside while joking that import fees are for suckers. He also shows her the travel chess set he barely uses, a version of the game made with little pegs beneath the pieces that fit into the holes in the board. Granted, his set is not as nice as the one Pieck keeps on her for impromptu games, but Jean has spent his fair share of train or boat rides with the board between him and an opponent.

Unsurprisingly, he and Mikasa end up using the set on a table near the window. Their game is illuminated by candlelight, shrouding the chess pieces with a warm glow on a very quiet evening. He's not sure how late it is, but they're at a point in the game where most of her pawns are gone, both his rooks have been taken down, and one of her knights was sacrificed to protect the queen. In retaliation, Mikasa uses said queen to assure that the loss was not made in vain.

“I thought you played against Armin,” she says as she takes the black bishop off the board and onto her side of the table.

“I play against him,” Jean explains. “I don't win against him.” He moves one of his pawns with the confidence of a person who knows the game isn’t over yet. “But I’m better than you think,” he adds, smirking.

Mikasa eyes the board, then something mischievous lights up in her gaze. “Better than to do that?”

Jean looks at the board. His act of pushing a single piece forward had created the perfect path for her queen to take down his, a move that was shortsighted on his end but a perfect opportunity on hers. Despite knowing that the tides have turned, Jean doesn’t let it show. Instead he refuses to let his smugness falter and speaks like nothing is wrong.

“Why not?”

Mikasa is amused at his sudden waggishness. “Because I’ll kill her,” she says in a lighthearted, factly tone.

“What if I asked you not to?”

“I still would.”

“What if I asked nicely?”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

To prove her point she moves her queen and uses it to take down his, causing Jean to sigh.

“You wound me,” he jests, but continues the game nonetheless. He moves one of his pawns forward — not because he thinks that doing so will put it in a favorable position, but to stall for time until another opportunity arises. “Who’d you learn to play with? Armin?”

“Usually,” Mikasa answers as she uses her queen to take down another one of his pawns. “But sometimes I’d play with…”

“...Eren?”

A strange kind of chill enters the air, a stark contrast to the candles casting warmth and light onto the old friends. Jean sees the friendly look on Mikasa’s face begin to fall, as if a ghost had suddenly entered the room.

“...that checks out,” Jean continues, unsure how to keep the conversation going. “That you’d play with… him, I mean.”

Sucking in an uneasy breath, he uses his sole knight to take down her queen, a game-changing move that doesn’t alter the stilted atmosphere between them.

“You can say his name in front of me.” Mikasa's voice is low and grave. “You should stop acting like you can’t.”

Jean looks up and sees something shimmering in her eyes. Half her face is illuminated by the flame on the wick and the other half is shrouded in shadows — warmth against cold, light against dark.

“Sorry, I just figured that… that it’d be a sensitive subject.” Jean reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, a habit he does when he needs to do something with his hands. “I… we can talk about something else.”

Mikasa nods and lets out a shuddery breath. “Yeah… yeah.”

In silence Jean and Mikasa nudge their pieces across the queenless board in a half-hearted attempt to end the match. Soon Jean gets his knight in a spot to take out Mikasa’s king, a fate that could be avoided if she simply moves the piece in question. But as he waits for her turn he sees the motivation to keep playing fade from her face.

The glistening in her eyes continues and she goes still. She lets out a wary huff before reaching for her king and laying it down on the board, defeated.

“You win.”

She doesn’t look him in the eye as she reaches up and brushes her hair out of her face, her breaths sounding more laboured as she struggles to maintain her composure.

Sensing the agitation on the other end of the table, Jean begins re-arranging the pieces of the board.

“Wanna play again?” he asks, then sighs when he realizes that it was a stupid question. “Actually uh… it’s late. Should probably head to bed.”

Mikasa nods as she leans her elbow on the edge of the table.

She rubs her eyes and doesn’t speak as Jean puts the game away. He stands from the table to bring everything to his open suitcase. After closing and tucking his luggage back underneath his bed, he straightens up again and looks to his old friend by the window.

She’s looking down, her hair covering her face as her hands rest on her knees. Her breaths are slow and methodical, air coming in and out of her like a mantra.

Jean takes one step forward, soon getting down on one knee to be at her level.

“You alright?”

She nods, still not looking him in the eye. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

He can’t help but wonder how often Mikasa will insist that everything is okay while everything about her screams the opposite.

Unable to take his eyes off her, something inside of him makes Jean reach forward, very gently touching his hand to hers. He doesn’t even dare to hold it, merely grazing her.

In the span of a second he can see realization slip back into her eyes, even if it’s slight, and their gazes meet.

Jean tries to pick his next words carefully, his mind rushing through a plethora of possibilities on what might be the right thing. He wants to say something that will ease her worries, something that will bring her comfort when she’s utterly despondent.

He sees the pain that she’s been experiencing for the last few years, left alone on the Island to fester in her own trauma — grappling with feelings for a dead man while compounded by a thousand other things at once. He can’t even fathom a fraction of what she had gone through over the past three years, where in a way the war never ended for her. Taking in the sight of her now, the culmination of all that time to sit and stew with her emotions, fills Jean with the guilt of having left her behind.

“He loved you, did you know that?” he decides to tell her. He finally finds it in himself to actually hold her hand. Her skin is soft against his.

Mikasa runs her thumb across the back of his hand before finally looking at him. Jean feels a strange sense of tightness in his head, a sensation that aches him right behind his eyes. But he ignores it to keep his attention on her and only her.

“I know,” Mikasa eventually says, a confirmation of what he already knew.

“Did you…” Jean starts, then stops himself short of asking something he knows the answer to. He breathes in and lets out an awkward, pained chuckle. “Sorry, stupid question.”

It had been obvious to everyone, even back in the day. Though sometimes it seemed that the only person it wasn’t the most apparent to was Eren himself, which Jean never understood.

What he does understand now is that Mikasa’s love was reciprocated, but it appeared that knowing such a thing made other occurrences more confusing.

To say Jean never thought about the harm Eren had put Mikasa through would be a lie. To say he never mused about the time Eren claimed to have hated her was absolutely untrue. On one hand Jean could acknowledge what was fabricated to achieve a certain end, but on the other the lingering misery it had caused was clear on Mikasa’s face.

“He should have never put you in this…” Jean begins, then loses his train of thought once Mikasa looks at him, her eyes shimmering and welling on the verge of tears.

From there he doesn’t know what else to say, getting the feeling that anything else could cause more harm than good.

“Nevermind.” He stands and runs both his hands through his hair, letting out a sigh of defeat. “I… I gotta sleep.”

Jean avoids her gaze as he turns around, the pain in his own head not subsiding. He blows out the candles, then in a dark room makes way to the bed. He sheds his shirt before slipping underneath the sheets. Positioning himself far from the window, he rests while facing away.

Time passes and he keeps expecting to hear something in the silence. The creak of her chair as she stands from the table, her footfalls as she steps across the floor, and the door opening — all so she can get far away from the guy who can barely comfort a friend in need without running his own stupid mouth.

Because after all he’s said, Jean can’t imagine a person who wouldn’t.

An unknown amount of minutes pass before Jean hears her stand, but to his surprise she doesn’t leave. Instead he feels the mattress below him shift in a familiar way. Mikasa gets underneath the blankets and lies on the other side of the bed, and though Jean can’t muster enough courage to turn around and sneak a glimpse at her, in his mind he imagines that she’s on her back, staring up at the ceiling like she’s looking at the stars.

The silence continues and Jean feels far from falling asleep. His stomach is still tied up in knots. He keeps his eyes closed and wonders when he’ll finally nod off.

But soon a soft, tender voice pierces the quietude.

“Jean?”

“Hm?”

Jean opens his eyes and shifts so that he’s on his back. When Mikasa comes into view he’s surprised to see that she's on her side and looking in his direction, focused on him and only him. For once they are no longer separated by a pile of pillows and blankets. Even in the dark he can see the fragility in her pretty eyes.

“I thought about running away with him…” she begins, her voice barely a whisper. “...back then.”

For lack of anything smarter to say, Jean nods. He can somewhat remember being told of this before, though he can’t remember from who. Maybe Armin or Sasha.

“It felt so perfect at the time, to leave this all behind…” Mikasa continues. Her hands are holding onto a handful of blanket, squeezing it tight as she tells her tale. A cautiousness enters her voice as she speaks. “...to live far away from all this… to live peacefully.”

Jean nods again, holding onto every word, yet he can’t stop himself from asking the first question on his mind.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if I actually did it,” Mikasa says like it’s something she’s been holding back for too long. “I would’ve deserted you all just to be with him.”

Jean tilts his head to the side, then adjusts himself on the bed so that he’s facing her. “If that was what you really wanted, then I couldn’t have stopped you.”

He speaks his truth, even though in his heart he knows it would have hurt to see her and Eren gone without a trace. One side of him acknowledges the weight of dissertation and how the Scouts would charge them accordingly. But another side of him can’t bear the thought of suddenly not seeing her every day.

“I know, but…” Mikasa starts, then pauses. Even in the dark Jean can see her brow furrowing in thought.

She speaks like every thought she’s had is selfish, like suddenly she’s the worst person in the world because she has a dream, an ambition, something to keep her moving forward. He’s tempted to tell her that he knows what that’s like, to hold onto a possibility that brings so much joy, even if one must ignore the reality of the world they’re currently in just to entertain a fleeting fantasy.

Mikasa finds it in herself to continue talking.

“...I’ve had a lot of time to think about how you guys would feel if we ran off and…” She takes in a breath before meeting his gaze, her voice becoming even quieter. “...I don’t know if I could live the rest of my life with you guys hating me.”

Something about the way she holds herself makes Jean ache. Partially hidden by the blankets, her hair falling over her face, her body slightly curled into a ball as she lies next to him on this very bed. The space between them makes him feel like they’re far apart.

“Mikasa, I could never hate you,” Jean says without any hesitation. The tension in his head finally starts to subside. In the dark he sees the heartbroken deliberation in her eyes finally disappearing.

“Good night,” he tells her, hoping that some of his words had brought her comfort, somehow.

“Good night,” she repeats back, the sweetness of her voice becoming the last thing on his mind before he finally falls asleep.

…

Now.

Cooking and Revelations.

Like before, Hugo spends the late afternoon napping in the main living space, picking a spot in front of the unlit fireplace. Like before, Jean cooks for her again, utilizing both what he has in his kitchen as well as what he gathered from the sea. And like before, the sound of the sea is ever-present within the walls of the cottage.

But in contrast to yesterday, Mikasa decides to get a little bit closer. With her arms crossed, she stands in the doorway of Jean's kitchen, watching him work with great interest. The space is not as small as she expects it to be, providing just enough space for a wood-burning stove, counter, and sink — but the tension Jean holds as he cooks makes her wonder if he's not used to having an extra body in the space.

Mikasa observes him standing at the sink, where he rinses each crab under a steady stream of freshwater. As he works she notices the chapped texture on his hands, a roughness that covers his palms and fingers like a layer of dust. She’s not sure if it’s a result of his craft or the errands he performs to keep himself fed, though perhaps it’s a mix of both.

Every once in a while Jean will check on the stockpot on the stove, where a metal basket is nestled within the boiling vessel, the water below just starting to simmer. In a bowl on the counter are whatever aromatics he has on hand — roughly-chopped cloves of garlic, one and a half lemons all sliced up, and several carrots that look too bruised to actually eat.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?” Mikasa asks, though a part of her can already anticipate his answer.

“You’re still my guest,” he reminds as he rinses off the last crab. He tosses it into another bowl on the counter before drying his hands on a tea towel.

He meets her gaze across the kitchen, the slightest hint of concern entering his eyes. “You alright?”

At first Mikasa doesn’t know what he’s referring to, but supposes that it might have something to do with the way she’s wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m cold.”

Jean nods and his worry persists. “You can borrow a sweater if you want. There should be one upstairs. In the closet.”

“Thank you.”

She turns around and leaves the kitchen, thinking about how she was planning on changing out of his dirty trousers anyways.

In the main space she grabs her skirt off the couch, then slips into the bathroom to dress herself in her usual clothes. After she changes and rinses all the dirt from her face, she exits and heads to the staircase. The steps creak underneath her feet as she ascends.

The second level of the cottage is far smaller than the first and only consists of Jean’s bedroom. It’s roomier than she expects, but in the corners she can see the slant of the rooftop that would inevitably force him to slouch. His bed is unmade but seems big enough for his frame, a carpet covers most of the floor, and between two windows is a dresser made of aged lumber.

She spots the open closet in the corner and goes to it. Every garment inside is clean and free of paint droplets, each one hung with absolute care. She even spots his old Ambassador suit hanging unused and untouched in the back. She only spends a few seconds searching for something warm before coming up empty-handed, unable to find something in the collection of dress shirts, trousers, and old leather belts.

Mikasa ends up spotting a sweater on Jean’s bed, the navy blue knitted pullover she had found him in yesterday. She doesn’t waste time and takes it, swiftly tugging it over her torso. When she remembers Hugo’s little wine spilling incident, she curiously sniffs the material. The scent of salt and sandalwood fills her senses and makes something flutter in her stomach. As she rolls up the sleeves so they don’t fall over her hands, her eyes wander and spot something peculiar on his bedside table.

A postcard lies near an unlit lantern. Mikasa stops herself short of reading the paragraph of text scribbled onto it, but notices the name written at the bottom. Evidently, Jean’s ex-paramour has very pretty handwriting. The sight of it all agitates the nervousness Mikasa has been trying to ignore and causes her to leave the bedroom a little faster than she expected.

When she descends the stairs and re-enters the kitchen, Jean is lowering a steamer basket full of crabs into the boiling stockpot. He spots her in the doorway and takes a second to look her up and down.

“You changed,” he notes, surprised.

“I was going to anyway.”

He nods as he places a lid on the plot, then crosses the kitchen and takes a knife off the counter. For a few moments all that fills the air is the scent of the steaming seafood and the sound of Jean chopping tiny shallots.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks after a lull of silence.

“Sure.”

“What was Loena like?”

Just like yesterday Jean stiffens, mainly in his shoulders, and he doesn’t look at her. When he glances up it’s to peruse the shelves above the counter, where a variety of jars filled with spices are organized in a neat row.

“She had red hair, she liked to dance, and she was sweet.” He looks down and begins mincing a handful of parsley. “You know, aside from that ‘lying-about-being-married’ thing.”

Mikasa notices the flippant way he speaks and leans against the doorframe. “Did she know who you really were?”

“I never got the chance to tell her. Why do you ask?”

“I saw one of her postcards in your room.”

Once more Jean stops what he’s doing. This time he turns and furrows his eyebrows when he looks at her. Even if he doesn’t appear angry, he seems alarmed.

“I wasn’t snooping,” she’s quick to explain. “I saw it on your nightstand. It was just there. I didn’t… I didn’t read it.”

Against all odds Jean scoffs, rolls his eyes, and smirks in a way that many would deem playful.

“Thought you’d have more class than that, Mikasa.” He looks back to his cutting board and resumes his task.

Once she’s out of his sight Mikasa takes in a breath to recompose herself.

As she watches him cook, she can't help but imagine an even clearer image of Jean’s past tryst.

In her mind she sees Loena with a smile so bright it rivals the sun, standing an entire head below Jean as they dance the night away in some sweaty tavern, her hair moving like fire with every twirl. Mikasa sees the flagons of ale they consume over the evening and the kisses they share in moments of bliss. She sees the smile on Jean’s face as he connects with a person for what could be the first time in forever. She sees the frills in Loena’s dress swaying in the wind as she walks hand-in-hand through the town with her new lover. She sees Jean happily nuzzling Loena’s neck. She sees Loena kissing the scar on Jean’s collarbone. She sees the hands that now handle paint brushes and ring cages caressing the face of another.

For a relationship technically built on lies, Mikasa sees the two being happy together, even if for a little while. Fortunately, she stops herself short from imagining what the two had gotten up to in the walls of this very cottage.

“I hope you treated her well,” she says to keep the conversation going.

“I like to think I did,” Jean says as he crosses the space in the kitchen. “But I don’t think it would’ve lasted.”

“Because of the whole ‘married’ thing?”

“No,” he starts, and suddenly a strange kind of heaviness enters his voice. He looks at her and holds eye contact for a few agonizing seconds, his expression serious and unmoving. “Because a week before we broke up she said that every time I looked at her, she kept getting the feeling that I was thinking of someone else.”

His words hang in the air, accompanied by the sound of the simmering pot and the familiar backdrop of the ocean waves outside. Jean goes back to cooking like nothing is wrong, tossing the bowl of aromatics into the steamer basket on top of the crabs.

It’s in his nature to be blunt and to say what needs to be said, even if it hurts or pricks at her skin. His habit had never been rooted in a desire for cruelty, but a desire for truth — yet that doesn’t stop her face from going warm. She feels exposed, edgy, something that makes her wish he hadn’t spoken to her so brusquely.

Thankfully, Hugo wanders into the kitchen before Mikasa can think of the next thing to say. She sees Jean glance towards his dog and sigh.

He rubs his tired face before carrying on like nothing strange happened.

“Dinner’s in thirty minutes.”

…

Then.

The Morning After.

Jean wakes and expects to see what he’s been witnessing for the last few days — an empty bed, a quiet room, and the sun shining through the windows. But in the morning after the heartache, his expectations are only partially met.

Because after Jean opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling thinking about how tired he is, he promptly notices the unfamiliar weight now resting on his chest.

He adjusts himself and is greeted to the sight of Mikasa sleeping on top of him, her head pressed against his torso like she’s always belonged there. Her breathing is quiet, slow, and serene, her pretty face remaining shrouded by her hair.

Jean takes a moment to wonder if this is really happening. He thinks of all the circumstances that had led them here, the hours of time they've spent in each other's presence all culminating in this. It still doesn't feel real, not even like a dream.

Panic fills him as he realizes that he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He raises them up slightly and they hover over her head.

Soon he plants one hand on her shoulder and the other on her head, expecting her to flinch at his touch yet she doesn’t. Very gently moves one of the locks covering her face, nudging it with his finger until it’s behind her ear. He does it again, then again, then once more before Mikasa starts to stir.

She opens her eyes very slightly and Jean's heart skips a beat. Deep down he feels that he's being caught doing something he shouldn’t — because despite the closeness and confession they have shared in the last few hours alone, a part of him knows that she probably only sees him as a friend. The knots forming in his stomach only get tighter.

But Mikasa manages to surprise Jean again. She doesn’t move, not even to shift and look him in the eye. Instead she remains she is, closing her eyes and getting comfortable with the way her body entangles with his and how her head rests perfectly atop his beating heart. Underneath the sheets her knee is slotted between his legs, keeping her close to him in a way he never imagined.

Jean still has no idea what to do, but he remains where he is — where he holds an old friend, plays with the ends of her beautiful hair, and inevitably falls asleep for just a little bit longer.

…

Now

The Time Between Letters.

The dinner Jean makes consists of steamed crabs and more white wine served in glass jars. Like before they dine on opposite sides of the table while his trusty gramophone in the corner plays a song above the ocean waves. It’s later in the day, meaning that the world outside the windows casts orange light into the home, something that makes Jean’s eyes look a little bit warmer when it hits him at the right angle.

It’s been a while since she's had crab and she’s sure spends less time eating and more time digging around the husks for the best bites of meat. When Jean’s not politely laughing at her inability to dissect a cooked crustacean, he tells her more stories. And when he pauses and takes a moment to dig into the crevices of the shell, she thinks back to their conversation in the kitchen.

The persistent visions she has of him and Loena, that being of them smiling in each other’s arms and walking through the port hand-in-hand, are now tainted by Jean’s revelation.

The reality that things were not as joyous as they seemed creates a sense of agitation within her. On one hand she truly did want Jean to be happy, to have someone to adore and kiss and accompany him in his new life, to have a partner to appreciate him from the start. But on the other hand, a strange sense of alleviation fills her once she concedes to the reality that Jean and Loena wouldn’t have lasted anyways, and not for reasons strictly related to Jean becoming to plaything of a bored housewife.

And in the midst of the two wolves inside of her is a third feeling, one begging the question of whether it’s morally okay to be relieved that Jean’s last relationship didn’t work out. It’s certainly not the first time that her gut instinct is to deem herself a bad person for even thinking such things, no questions asked, and it certainly won’t be the last time.

At least she finds comfort in Jean’s stories. The sound of his husky voice continues to grace her ears like a warm blanket on a cold night.

Jean explains that he still keeps up with the Ambassadors despite everyone living in different parts of the world, even if the time between letters is long and arduous.

All Mikasa knows is that Armin is living with Annie in some kind of seaside abode on the mainland and that Pieck is back with her father, kindly playing caretaker if it will bring her father joy in the time he has left. The whereabouts of the others, however, are a bit of a mystery. She’s surprised to hear that Reiner and Connie have been living together ever since the group went their separate ways — though unlike the other ex-Ambassadors they don’t stay in one place for too long, opting to continue traveling the world and see where their curiosity can take them.

Last Jean heard they were living in some commune up north, a place so isolated that it’s a day’s walk to the nearest post office and back. The fact that Connie and Reiner are alive and happy is all Jean really needs, but that doesn’t make the literal months between letters any easier.

As Jean speaks Mikasa can’t help but notice the life in his eyes, the ease of existence that comes with the new air between them. It’s barely been a day since she learned he had returned to the Island but she can already feel herself getting used to him again.

By the time they’ve both had their fill of steamed crab, the sun outside is halfway below the horizon. The sight is so pretty that Jean asks Mikasa if she would like to finish her wine on the back porch to better appreciate it, an offer she gladly accepts.

Behind the cottage are empty laundry lines, a delectable view of the ocean at twilight, and a lone wooden chair on the porch. Like a good host Jean offers her the only seat and Mikasa doesn’t argue.

Once she sits she expects Jean to join her, but to her mild confusion he slips into his cottage again. For a few moments she is left alone to sip her jar of wine and let Hugo curl up by her feet. When Jean returns he is bearing a handful of letters and postcards, which are similar to the one she had seen near his bed except the names signed on the bottom are ones she recognizes.

Jean encourages her to read the messages from their old friends, confident in the words being as much of a saving grace for her as they are for him. While she peruses the letters he sits on the stoop in front of her, his bare feet rubbing against the grass of his backyard. At this angle the rays of the setting sun hit his hair with a warm glow, enveloping him in light as he sips on his wine.

As the waves continue to crash against the land and churn clouds of seafoam onto the sand, Mikasa reads the letters and postcards. The first she sees is from Armin and Annie, but mostly Armin if the neat handwriting is any indication. It has been sent from the mainland town that they currently reside in, one close to the sea much like Jean's little arrangement, except Mikasa assumes that they didn’t need to obfuscate their true identities in search of a peaceful life. Armin's paragraph is brief and talks of the alleyway cat Annie insisted they take in, a stray that was looking for a home and found it in the couple living by the shore. They've named the cat “Captain Archibald” and Armin promises to send a photograph as soon as he can.

The next letter is from Connie and is dated from two years ago. True to Jean’s word, he and Reiner have been living far from the reaches of humanity, so much so that Connie is already apologizing to Jean for taking so much time between messages. The farmwork he and Reiner perform at their commune keeps them more busy than they’d like. As bittersweet as it is to see the distance between the brothers in every way but blood, Mikasa can practically hear the reverence in Connie's voice as she reads his scribbly penmanship. Whatever bond they had formed since they were young had survived the years of war, a life as Ambassadors, and the oceans between them now.

The final message Mikasa reads is from Pieck, consisting of a very succinct paragraph written on the back of a postcard with the photo of an old lighthouse. She gives an update on her father's health and how at the very least he will have his daughter with him for his final years. Pieck notes that the stress of the situation is giving her the first taste of grey hairs. On one hand, to be able to age should be considered a gift, as she’s been blessed with a second lease on her once-shortened life. But on the other hand, Pieck is far from ready to start calling herself a silver fox. The message ends with Pieck commenting on how tacky it is for Armin and Annie to have named their alleyway cat “Archibald,” of all things, causing Mikasa to curtly snort and wonder if Pieck had the guts to tell the couple themselves.

After Mikasa puts Pieck's postcard down, she notices a photograph in the pile of letters she placed on the chair's armrest. Curiously, she takes it between her fingers and holds it to the light. On the medium is a clear image of a cat on a wall by a rocky sea, a place that doesn’t seem like it exists on Paradis. She's been sent a few pictures of Archie before, but this one is in colour and gives a more vivid look at the cat’s fur than she’s ever gotten. The orange strands burn like fire against the horizon.

When Mikasa flips the photo around she sees the words “Captain Archibald Arlert-Leonhardt, reporting for duty!” written in handwriting so messy that it cannot possibly be Armin's.

The sight of Archie framed in front of the ocean brings a smile to Mikasa’s face.

“They really love this cat, don't they?”

“They do, indeed,” Jean agrees. He’s shifted a bit on the porch, now resting his back against a supporting beam and sitting with his knees pulled close to his chest, a casual position made amusing by his longer limbs. He laughs before eyeing Hugo asleep at her feet, the canine having rolled over to rest on his back at some point.

“Can't relate though,” Jean says. He reaches over to scratch his loyal companion’s belly. “I still prefer dogs, but don't tell ‘em I said that.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “I'll keep that in mind.”

She takes the jar of wine placed on the chair’s armrest and takes the last few sips. As it slips down her throat she can feel the ever-present warmth in her chest intensifying.

“One more of these and you'll have to carry me back to town,” she jokes.

Jean smirks. “Is that an invitation?”

Mikasa almost chokes on her wine, then something in her heart clenches and her instincts tell her it’s not entirely due to the alcohol.

“I’m kidding,” he quickly assures, though the initial unease in her nerves has yet to fade away.

Jean stands from his spot on the porch and collects her empty jar. He finishes what remains of own drink before heading towards the door, making sure to avoid her gaze.

“I'll get you some water.”

…

Back at the Inn.

It’s far into the evening when Mikasa returns to the inn, where she kicks off her dusty boots and makes good use of the bathtub in her room.

She heats up the water and fills the vessel, promptly shedding her clothes and stepping in. The warmth that envelops her immediately soothes her tired muscles, a process that makes her sigh as she lies against the back of the tub.

She scrubs at the grime on her skin, cleans the dirt from underneath her fingernails, and washes her hair. It’s only now when she notices the way her feet tingle, which she’s not sure is from the walk to the cottage, her work in the garden, or a mix of both. As she remembers that her plans at Jean’s homestead have yet to be completed, she wonders how much her joints will pain her once she’s finally done.

Somehow, the thought of having to walk all the way back tomorrow brings a smile to her face.

…

Then.

Visits.

Arielle Kirschtein is invited to the palace two weeks into the Paradisian Peace Talks. She is accompanied by Nora Springer and a handful of the Queen’s royal guards, an unfortunate necessity made to protect the loved ones of the Ambassadors. Three hours in one of Historia’s sitting rooms is far from what Jean expected when he and Connie requested time with their families, but it’s all they can receive given the circumstances.

Jean tries to make use of the time they have, as little as it is. In the afternoon he stands in a room at the palace’s west wing. Once his mother steps in he lets out a sigh of relief. She looks the same since the last he saw her — a head shorter than he is, a round face, and a pair of hazel eyes that are much softer than his. Jean wastes no time in stepping across the room and pulling her into a hug.

Arielle rests her chin on her son’s shoulder as she revels in his embrace, a sensation that Jean hadn’t realized he missed until now.

Once mother and son pull apart she immediately falls into her usual habits. With an affectionate voice, Arielle puts her hands on his cheeks and mentions that he’s gotten taller, that his beige Ambassador suit fits him strangely, then asks if he’s been eating properly as of late. Her usual motherly pestering brings a smile to his face and fills Jean with a kind of levity he hadn’t felt since he first arrived at the palace.

With Connie and his mother occupying the neighbouring room, Jean and Arielle sit on the couch as they catch up. They are served tea and biscuits as they talk, wherein Jean tells his mother of his adventures abroad and she listens to his every word. He speaks of how the Ambassadors continue to be shipped around like luggage and thrust to every corner of the world. He explains that on some days they are moved so quickly that the only caveat to it all is the sight of the sea outside a ship’s porthole. There are even days where it’s a relief to not have to get a full-night’s sleep in a moving vehicle.

On the other end of things, Arielle tells her son of what life in Trost has been like for the last three years. Jean anticipates her explaining what the Jaegerists must be doing with their level of control, but his mother surprises him by speaking of other matters. She talks about Nora Springer visiting often, where they will not do much but drink tea and awkwardly skirt around any uncomfortable topic. Any instance of Arielle asking how Nora's adjusting to things post-Titanization tends to be answered with a nod, a hum, then a very abrupt change in subject to avoid dwelling on things for too long. Talking about the weather seems to be Nora’s go-to.

Eventually, Arielle tells Jean about how she’s been seeing someone for the last few months, a topic that makes Jean roll his eyes yet he still tries to hold himself in a way that says, “Yes, mother, I hear you.”

A man named Ulrich has moved down the street, having relocated from Karanes to Trost to start a new life. He’s as old as she is, came to the district with the skillset of a blacksmith, and is evidently unbothered by his girlfriend's son being a traitor to the Island.

The reality of his mother dating doesn’t bother Jean as much as he expected. Ultimately, his reaction is neutral. As he listens to his mother’s recollection of Ulrich taking her for a walk near the mountains, he finds it in himself to be happy for her. There is something assuring about knowing his mother isn’t living a life constricted by his actions, that despite everything happening on the Island she’s making connections somehow, whether it be through Nora Springer’s awkward weather chats or with the kindly blacksmith just down the road.

Mother and son continue to drink tea, nibble on freshly baked biscuits, and chat to their heart’s content, then before either of them know it their three hours are up.

Ever the gentleman, Jean remains by his mother’s side as she is escorted through Historia’s palace by a pair of guards. At this point in the stay, walking through the opulent hallways reminds him less of the cushy existence he had dreamed of a lifetime ago and more of a prison. To be unable to leave these very walls without the risk of a Jaegerist exacting their revenge is a heavy burden to hold, and to an extent he can’t imagine what it’s like for his mother to exist while sharing the name of a traitor.

But he believes in Historia’s ability to keep her and Nora Springer safe, he has faith in the powers that be to ensure protection to those who need it.

Jean walks out to the palace courtyard with his mother by his side, the sun shining bright above their heads. Ahead of them is a carriage that Connie is helping Nora into.

“Promise me that you’ll write more, Jean,” Arielle tells her son when they’re a few steps away from her ride.

Jean shrugs and stops walking to face his mother. “That depends, what’ll happen if I don’t?”

When Arielle reaches for his ear and pretends to pinch it, a playful gesture she’s done since he was young, Jean flinches with a smile on his face.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He squirms out of her grasp and lets out a laugh. “I will, Ma, I promise.”

“Are you sure you can’t find a way to Trost after this?” asks Arielle in a hopeful voice.

With a sigh he shakes his head. “I don’t think so. After this we’re actually needed on the mainland again.”

Arielle looks perplexed. “So soon? For the love of Sina's ass-crack, they really won’t give you a break, won’t they?” She huffs. “What a shame, I really did want you to meet Ulrich.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet someday,” Jean says, though deep down he knows that his words may not hold their weight. He puts his hands in his pockets as his face falls. “Eventually.”

“Eventually,” Arielle repeats, pouting, then reaches over to plant her palm on her son’s cheeks. “And don’t make that face, Jean, he’s a nice man.”

Jean rolls his eyes as he taps his mother’s hand away from him. “Yeah, I get that, I just… I just didn’t think this topic would come up.”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing for a mother to tell her son, but I’m glad you know,” Arielle admits. “Shame you can’t come home at all — Mrs. Scheer did say her daughter was single…”

As amusing as it is for his mother to set him up with the neighbour’s daughter, Jean can only chuckle and shake his head. “Not possible, Ma. Not for now, at least.”

As with everything regarding her son’s crazy life, Arielle seems to understand. “I do hope it will be one day.”

“You and I both,” Jean agrees. “Life’s a bit complicated right now. But if that changes you’ll be the first to know.”

From there on mother and son share a hug, Arielle’s arms wrapping tight around him for a blissful few seconds. When they break apart Jean takes her hand and leads her over to the carriage as planned. When she steps in she sits across from Nora Springer, who’s heartbreak is evident in the eyes she shares with her son. Leaving him for a second time cannot possibly be easy.

Jean gets a final look at his mother in the moment between her settling into the ride and the footman shutting the door. Jean and Connie then step back and watch as the horse-drawn carriage moves around the palace’s courtyard, soon heading towards the shiny gates and driving off the property. They stare until the vehicle turns into a speck amongst the horizon and disappears.

On instinct, Jean looks to Connie to gauge his state. For once his beloved friend is not locked in a constant state of melancholy, a rare sight on its own. The light in Connie’s eyes makes Jean reach over and put his arm around his old friend, pulling him close so their shoulders bump.

“Feeling good, Connie?”

Connie turns to him, still looking elated from the visit but unamused at his friend’s antics. “Yes, Dad. ”

He pulls away and Jean laughs, pleasantly entertained. Connie walks forward, rolling his eyes and adjusting his tie as he heads towards the palace. Jean follows, adjusting his hair so it remains pompously slicked over his head. While he moves his eyes wander around the building’s exterior, where he inspects things like the ornate balconies, the row of symmetrically-trimmed potted plants near the entrance, and the various windows that line the building.

One window in particular catches his attention, a pane in the corner where Jean sees someone standing behind the glass. Even from where he stands he can recognize the figure, a sight that tickles him once he realizes who it is.

Mikasa stands in a room on the palace’s third floor. While he can’t recall the purpose of said room, it’s apparently an excellent spot to eavesdrop on all the ongoings in the courtyard.

Despite the distance between them, Jean sees her flinch from her stillstate once she realizes that she’s been caught staring. With all the grace of a frightened doe, the girl who had rested in his arms just that morning scurries from the window.

Once she’s gone he lets out a laugh and wonders just how long she had been looking at him.

…

2ND PASS COMPLETE

Scars and Cigarettes.

In the evening Jean bathes in a tub full of sumptuous soaps and scents. Despite the elation he had felt after reuniting with his mother after three whole years, the feeling of relief had left the second he re-entered the boardroom. The stress of another cycle of meetings and negotiations goes down the drain with the bathwater.

Dripping wet, he steps out of the tub and dries off with a towel, appreciating the floral scent now wafting throughout the air. The amenities of a Queen differ greatly from what he’s been provided during his travels, most of which start and end with a frigid shower and a bar of soap. In the palace things are different — the suds feel unbelievably luxurious against his skin, the hot water soothes every ache in his muscles, and the provided lotions smell of shea butter and marula oil.

After Jean dries his hair, he wipes the fog off the mirror and gets a glimpse of his reflection. It’s at this time of the month that his facial hair is starting to veer away from stubble and into the territory of a short beard, a sight that is fitting for a grizzled sea captain but not at all for an Ambassador of peace. As he rubs lotion into his skin, he wonders if he has time to shave before hearing a knock at his door.

“Just a second!” he calls out just as he finishes his task and leaves the bathroom.

Jean drops his towel and steps into the bedroom. He puts on the bottoms of his sleepwear before grabbing the top off the corner of his bed. He pulls the latter garment over his shoulders and lets it remain unbuttoned as he heads towards the door.

When he opens said door he is greeted by a face he’s seen a thousand times, yet it is not the one he has come to expect at this point of the evening.

“What do you want, Pieck?” Jean asks in lieu of a proper greeting.

His comrade, travel companion, and occasional source of irritation stands in the hallway. Pieck Finger is cloaked in a silk robe that goes far below her knees. Her hair is neatly brushed and tied back. The smile on her face feels uncharacteristically bright at this time of night. It’s her usual way of holding herself, but over time Jean has learned that such an expression has a fifty-percent chance of being genuine or is simply a way to obfuscate her true intentions. Lucky for him, it’s probably the former at this hour.

“I got you a gift,” Pieck announces in her regular half-dry, half-chipper way of speaking. From behind her back she pulls out a small rectangular box and holds it out to him.

The label tells Jean what the box contains — cigarettes, and the good kind to boot. He takes the pack into his hands and is impressed to find that it’s unopened.

“Shit, who’d you snag these from?”

“One of the diplomats from the Mid-East,” Pieck explains, shrugging. She begins playing with the sash of her robe. “He tried to sneak them around his wife but to no avail. It’s a whole thing.”

“And he gave these to you?”

“Technically his wife did after she confiscated them,” Pieck corrects, chuckling. “Anyways, I figured you’d be desperate after finishing your last stick, so enjoy the gift.”

Jean rolls his eyes and slips the pack into his shirt pocket. “You sure you don’t want one?”

Pieck scrunches her nose. “No thanks, I’m too smart for that.”

Before either of them can say anything else, they are interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Jean looks forward and Pieck turns around. They are both greeted to the sight of Mikasa standing on the other side of the hallway. From where he is Jean can see a distinct agitation entering her eyes when she sees he’s not alone. Her hand is still on the doorknob and he notices that she’s holding it tight.

“Hey,” Jean starts, breaking the tension in the hallway.

“Hey…” Mikasa manages, eyeing him and then Pieck. “...am I interrupting something?”

The ever-astute Pieck Finger looks over to Jean. As to be expected, it only takes a few seconds for her to read both of them like a book. The confused expression on her face turns into a knowing look. He’s seen this face before, as she wore it when she realized exactly what was going on between Armin and Annie, or when she figured out what Jean was really doing whenever he needed to “step out for some air.”

She also seems to know exactly what this looks like from Mikasa’s perspective, a situation that is not remotely helped by Jean’s unbuttoned shirt or her silk robe.

Despite circumstances, Jean can see the playfulness tinged in Pieck’s smile as they share a brief look. His stomach clenches as he becomes overwhelmed by the urge to crawl under a rock forever or throw himself out of the nearest window. Or maybe both.

Relief washes over him once Pieck looks back to Mikasa.

“Not at all! I was just leaving,” she insists, slipping her hands into her robe pockets. An sense of informality enters her composure. She steps out from the space between them and faces the two.

“I’m gonna go… bother Armin and Annie,” Pieck ends up saying, giving Mikasa a rather cheeky grin as she walks off. “Maybe they won’t kick me out of their room this time. Nightie-night!”

She gives a cheery wave before making her way down the hallway and disappearing into the palace.

Staring at the floor, it takes Jean a second to glance towards Mikasa again. His heart is still beating fast, but at least the need to curl into a ball and start rocking back and forth is starting to dissipate.

Mikasa still looks on edge, but manages to speak first.

“I didn’t know you two were close.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Close friends?”

“Just friends.”

Another beat follows and the air around them starts to feel heavy.

“...do you still wanna come in?” Jean tries, stepping back slightly and holding the door open.

Mikasa nods and walks to him. Her shoulder brushes his as she enters his room. In the brief moment that his face is obscured from hers Jean finally lets out the sigh he’s been holding in.

When he closes the door and turns around, he sees Mikasa standing in his room like she always does. She’s wearing her same old nightdress, the white one that flows behind her as she walks. As beautiful as she always is, looking at her now doesn’t quell the turmoil inside of him. It’s strange that an occurrence he’s grown so used to still has the ability to make him tense, but at least he’s getting better at hiding it. His first instinct is to take the pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and hold it up to her.

“Do you want one?”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

Jean hums before opening the box and walking to his desk. Instead of lighting up he simply takes his cigarette case and fills it with the newfound bounty.

“How was your mother?” she asks.

“She’s good,” Jean starts, then briefly thinks of a way to summarize the visit that isn’t utterly boring. “She’s surviving, thriving, and seeing some guy named Ulrich, apparently.” He can’t stop his tone from sounding just a little bit caustic.

Mikasa tilts her head to the side. “You don’t sound happy for her.”

“No, I am, it’s just… I never thought that her dating would ever… come up," Jean explains. He sighs, but manages a smile for Mikasa’s sake. “You should’ve come down to see her. She’d like you.”

“Why so?”

“Because you’re…” Jean begins, but stops himself short of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue. He looks away from Mikasa while words like ‘kind’ or ‘caring’ or ‘the strongest person I know’ dance in his head.

“...she just would,” he ends up saying instead.

Judging by the look on her face Mikasa seems inclined to believe him.

To distract himself, Jean finishes filling his case with cigarettes. He expects to make good use of it later, undoubtedly during the day when he finds a moment to himself, but for now he steps over to the closet and pulls out his Ambassador uniform, which has been neatly placed on a hanger. He slips the case into his jacket pocket, keenly aware that Mikasa’s eyes are on him the whole time.

Before he can say anything else she takes a step forward until she is standing beside him. He turns to her and notices that she’s looking at his torso — that in itself is enough to make the nervous pang within him intensify. She reaches up and moves a part of his unbuttoned shirt aside, just enough to expose a section of his upper chest.

Jean knows exactly what she’s looking at and is surprised that she’s only noticed it now.

“What happened here?” she asks, running her finger over the scar on his collarbone.

“Bar fight,” Jean answers without missing a beat. “It was a while ago though. Just kinda happened.”

“Who started it?”

“Connie,” Jean says nonchalantly. “I was just back-up.”

The incident is so far behind him now that all he can recall was how stupid the whole thing was.

The fight had been at some tavern in a town at the base of a mountain. Jean had walked in expecting to find Connie waiting for him with a friendly smile and a pitcher of ale. Instead he found his best friend currently engaged in a fist fight against a drunk patron who had the gall to make fun of his hair. Things had escalated at such an alarming rate that Jean had barely any time to grab Connie by the collar and pull him back, something that had unfortunately left him open to an unlucky attack. Though in terms of what injuries he could’ve sustained after being lunged at with a broken bottle, Jean had certainly gotten off easy. He didn’t even need stitches once the fight was broken up.

The only remnant of the night is now etched on his skin, a mark that will slowly fade with time but for now lies atop the right side of his collarbone.

“Sounds like something that would happen,” Mikasa says.

Jean chuckles. “Connie getting into bar fights?”

“No, you having his back.”

Jean fights the urge to blush and averts her gaze. “You’re giving me too much credit.” He steps back slightly and approaches the bed. “I’m beat, I gotta sleep.”

He hears her hum in agreement as he sheds his shirt and turns off the lights. Moonlight fills the bedroom as Jean slips under the sheets. Being freshly bathed, the blankets feel softer against his skin, something that helps him relax as his head settles on the pillow.

As per the last few nights, the sound of Mikasa’s gentle footfalls is followed by the feeling of the mattress shifting. With open eyes he sees her bundled in blankets and lying across from him. She looks to be at peace and once more Jean realizes just how much he prefers to see her this way.

In the faint light he is drawn to the scar underneath her right eye, a remnant of the past that is far more faded than his. At this distance he notices that it’s not as deep as he remembers it to be. He had never known her to cover it, but wonders if she’s ever been compelled to.

Jean’s musings are soon interrupted when he sees her reaching out to him. Her fingers touch his collarbone once more and he fights the urge to shudder.

“Did it hurt?”

“A little bit.”

She glances up to meet his eyes — for a moment their gazes remain connected as she runs her thumb across his scar. Mikasa focuses on the mark again, then slowly she moves across the mattress to close the distance between them. Something inside Jean clenches when she feels her bare feet grazing his shins, the warmth underneath the blankets feeling like heaven. Then before he knows it she presses a sweet kiss to his collarbone.

The kiss lasts barely a second and in that span of time he goes still. When she pulls away his eyes are wide and he becomes acutely aware of the positions of their bodies — both are on their sides, both are close like they were that morning, and both are existing in each other’s atmosphere like they’ve always belonged there.

And Jean is still tempted to pinch himself to see if this is all real.

Despite his heart hammering hard against his ribcage, Jean reaches to her and touches his palm to the back of her head. Emboldened by their proximity, he sucks in a nervous breath before finding the courage to run his fingers through her hair again. Like before Mikasa doesn’t move. She lets him touch her before looking up again, unambiguously aware of what he’s doing. Her eyes look nearly black in this light.

Jean’s not sure how much time passes before Mikasa surprises him again. She shifts a bit and her lips touch his.

On instinct Jean closes his eyes and reciprocates as gently as he can. The kiss, if he can even call it that, lasts a little longer than he expects.

After a few seconds it’s done. She pulls away and he opens his eyes. There’s only an inch between them now, their noses nearly brushing. From where he is Jean tries to read her expression. He sees the curiosity in her shimmering eyes, then gets the feeling that she’s testing him, experimenting with a gesture to see what feels right and what doesn’t.

Under different circumstances Jean would let her continue. Perhaps a past version of himself would let her play with him all night, no questions asked. But who he is now isn’t entirely comfortable with the idea.

He needs a part of this to be real, even just a little bit. So very gently Jean touches the back of her head again and pulls her towards him. The space between them closes again, his lips meeting hers with just a little more intent.

Kissing Mikasa the first time had made him tense, but the second time fares differently. The second time feels sweeter, quieter, more gentle. As Jean feels her reciprocate his affections against his lips, the pressure that had been plaguing his heart is suddenly gone — in its place is some kind of warmth, something that eases every worry inside of him. He deepens the kiss slightly, tilting his head to the side so he can try a different angle, holding her closer to him than he ever has.

He feels her arms snaking around his torso, an act that is clumsy and unprepared. Soon her hands are running across his shoulders, a movement that is done with enough fervor and desire that Jean realizes she wanted to do this — she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to touch him, she wanted to be close to him. And for what reasons he may never know, but for now that’s not what matters.

What does matter is that she’s kissing him back. His hands move and play with her hair, his thumb running across the scar on her cheek. He feels her shift on the bed and soon he’s on his back. She moves until she’s on top of him, their kiss remaining unbroken as she straddles his hips, a gesture that’s more brazen than he anticipates. Her hair drapes around them like a veil, their teeth clashing for a brief second as she continues to taste him, to test him.

And Jean enjoys every second of it, letting her hover over him as much as she wants. The shock of getting to kiss her still hasn’t worn off.

Deep down a part of him is expecting this to abruptly end, like all things in life that are too good to be true. He anticipates the moment where she will suddenly pull away, deem the last few nights as a huge mistake, and to walk away and leave him in the shambles of a friendship he once adored.

But that moment never comes.

Instead she keeps kissing him and he keeps kissing her back. It only ends for real once she falls asleep in his arms again.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #mikasa ackerman #jeankasa #jeanmika #mama kirschtein #snk #seaside cottage au #pieck finger #post-canon #post-rumbling #hugo the dog

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sufferawitchrp · 1 year ago

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⯎ SUBPLOT No. II — HOUSE OF WOLVES ⯎

TW: attempted filicide, body horror, mentions of gore, coarse language

Suspended high above an ocean of charcoal and indigo, a silver beam of light pokes a small hole through a slow-moving cloud. The moon fluttered in her place among the heavens, a cold and cruel mistress whose power — whose celestial wrath — was most profound when she was full. She gazed upon the world, a pale and unblinking eye that cast a wide net of haughty indifference upon an inferno that raged down below.

An insatiable fire consumed the wooden skeleton of 8 Springfang Lane. The flames had started in the basement, the cool, flat stone of the unfinished floor made slick with gasoline. The fluid shimmered in the dim light of a single overhead lamp, a shallow pool of disaster waiting for the warmth of an open flame. A sudden burst of marigold and ginger illuminated the sparsely furnished room, thrusting shadows upon the grizzled face of Warg Randolph. The match sputtered between his calloused fingers, the flame flickering in the breeze of his sour breath.

Warg was not himself; his eyes had yellowed and his fingernails had doubled in length. He studied his reflection in the shoal of gasoline, watching as something foreign and wicked rippled beneath the surface of his face. He lowered himself to his haunches in an effort to better observe the stranger who had taken up refuge inside him. “Gotta get rid of ya,” he sneered, sweeping over-long fingers across the watery image of his eyes and mouth. And then, without any hesitation, Warg dropped the burning match between his feet. His trousers caught fire and then the hem of his corduroy coat, the flames crawling up the front of his torso before seizing the wiry undergrowth of beard creeping down his neck. Warg did not scream — in fact, he didn’t make a sound as he stumbled towards the stairs and gripped the banister with what remained of his hand. Flames jumped from the singed flesh of his knuckles and onto the surrounding decor. The basement burned a magnificent orange, its colour partially dulled by a plume of noxious smoke that loomed overhead.

Warg shuffled up the stairs and through the kitchen, the ash and smoke rising from his burning shoulders as he made his way towards the front hall and slowly ascended the stairs. He paused on the top step and the charred remains of his mouth turned upward into a wilting grin; his middle child stood before him, eyes wide with abject horror. His tongue flapped inside his mouth in a desperate search for consonants and syllables as he watched the flesh slip from his father’s face like melted wax. The boy staggered backward and sucked down a deep breath before he screamed. The sound that echoed inside his mouth rivaled the approaching hiss of the blistering flames before it was cut short by the sound of multiple doors thrown wide open.

“What the fuck–!?”

“Dad..?! Dad!”

“He lit the fuckin’ house on fire!”

“Get out! Get out!”

Bare feet thumped against the carpet as a herd of young boys scrambled for an exit. One after another, they squeezed into the eldest son’s bedroom, the second oldest driving the door shut with his bare shoulder. Without a word uttered between the six of them, they crowded together in front of a window to peer down at the ground awaiting below.

“It’s too high,” the youngest whispered.

“It’s our only option,” the eldest replied as he leaned forward. “Lewis, hurry up. You first, then Hugo, then Atticus, then Wesley, and then Elliot. It’s either that or we burn to death.” All five boys gazed upon their eldest brother and then turned their eyes towards the darkness – the sanctuary — that stood suspended before them. The door knob rattled behind them and with a look of unfettered panic, the eldest took hold of his brother and pushed him towards the window. “Now! What the hell are you waiting for!? Go! Go!”

Lewis swung a leg through the window and shuddered, toes curling against the cool evening air. He glanced at the flames that purled beneath Samson’s door and then hurled himself into the darkness, landing with a muted thud on a bush below. He clutched his side and groaned, writhing against the pine and brambles. “Get up!” Samson shouted from above, arms belted around Hugo’s abdomen whose bare legs swung in the open breeze. “Get up, Lewis! Get up!”

• • •

“That’ll be $67.55.”

A pair of dark eyes skimmed the assorted items laid out on a small countertop. “Fuck. Talk about inflation. Here.” A large hand disappeared into the side pocket of a tattered leather jacket to retrieve a handful of bills before depositing them into the impatient hand of the gas station clerk while the other hooked an index finger around the plastic handle of the shopping bag. “Keep the change.” Outside, a van sat idling next to a single petrol pump with the windows rolled down and the exhaust belching one small black cloud after another. “Alright, dipshits, let’s go,” Lewis muttered, wrenching the driver’s side door open and slipping into his seat. He tossed the shopping bag behind him and rolled his eyes at the shared sound of ravenous delight that erupted from deep within Wesley, Elliot, and Atticus.

The Randolph boys had left Vermont behind them in a blur of severed limbs and rotting viscera. Each one had been held hostage by a brilliant ribbon of moonlight, involuntarily surrendering his humanity for the flat disc of diamond-shaped pupils and sickle-shaped claws. Vermont had not been the first city that they abandoned following the presence of a full moon and it would certainly not be the last.

Hugo reclined in his seat, swung his legs up onto the dashboard, and then folded his broad arms behind his head. “Let’s cast a vote,” he quipped, watching as Lewis shifted the van into drive. “Why don’t we go north for once? Y’know, cross the border to see some wild Canadian geese and eat our weight in poutine? There’s nothing left for us here. We’ve already seen it all.”

Samson grunted from his spot in the back, dark eyes trained on the scenery that whistled past as Lewis maneuvered the vehicle back onto the freeway. “That sounds like a lovely idea, but there’s only one problem,” he drawled, rapping his knuckles against the frosted glass of the rear window. “We don’t have any passports. We have nothing.”

A melancholy silence descended upon all the occupants in the van and remained unbroken for what remained of their journey until the vehicle rolled to a shuddering stop atop a long bed of gravel. Six pairs of nearly identical eyes peered out through the windshield and stared at the wooden structure that loomed before them. After a moment, Lewis slid out of his seat and onto the uneven ground below, neck straining as he peered up at the sloping roof of the barn house; one by one, his brothers flanked him on either side.

“Home sweet home,” he muttered.

Samson nodded, slinging an arm across the top of his brother’s shoulders. “Yeah. For now.”

SPECIES SPOTLIGHT — WEREWOLVES SUMMARY — Betrayed by their father, six brothers fled their childhood home on the evening of September 28th, 2003. In the dead of night, the Randolph alpha set the house ablaze with the intention of ending his life and the lives of his children. However, his sons escaped the inferno and sought out the help of a nearby neighbour who immediately alerted the authorities. Following the death of their father and the destruction of 8 Springfang Lane, the boys were turned over to their closest living relative, but when she passed away in 2008, the Randolphs were left to fend for themselves. Then, on one fateful night in the summer of 2010, the boys experienced firsthand what their father attempted to purge from them almost a decade prior. Each heir found himself at the mercy of a supernatural and deadly transformation, and after a night of unimaginable horror, the boys took their leave, and have since abandoned every town unfortunate enough to have ever been called home. - - Randolph, 35 [first brother] - - Randolph, 34 [second brother] - - Randolph, 31 [third brother] - - Randolph, 28 [fourth brother] - - Randolph, 26 [fifth brother] - - Randolph, 25 [sixth brother ]

(*) given names have been provided for story-telling purposes.

#jcink #jcink rp #jcink premium #supernatural roleplay #supernatural rp #site buzz #suffer buzz #update #subplot #new england horror #new roleplay #new rp

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byneddiedingo · 2 years ago

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Dana Andrews, Teresa Wright, Myrna Loy, Fredric March, Harold Russell, and Cathy O'Donnell in The Best Years of Our Lives (William Wyler, 1946)

Cast: Fredric March, Myrna Loy, Teresa Wright, Dana Andrews, Virginia Mayo, Harold Russell, Cathy O'Donnell, Hoagy Carmichael, Gladys George, Roman Bohnen, Ray Collins, Steve Cochran. Screenplay: Robert E. Sherwood, based on a novel by MacKinlay Kantor. Cinematography: Gregg Toland. Film editing: Daniel Mandell. Music: Hugo Friedhofer.

The Best Years of Our Lives is a very good movie, rich in characters and provocative incidents. It's not a great movie, but it's such a satisfying work of popular moviemaking that I'm surprised in this age of sequels and reboots, especially after the recent enthusiasm for the "Greatest Generation," no one has attempted a follow-up on the lives of its characters, taking them into the era of the Korean War, the nuclear buildup of the Soviet Union, the Cold War, McCarthyism, the civil rights struggle, and so on. Because there is something unfinished about the stories of Al, Fred, and Homer, not to mention Milly, Peggy, Marie, and Wilma, that perhaps director William Wyler and screenwriter Robert E. Sherwood couldn't possibly have foreseen in 1946. On the other hand, that's what makes The Best Years of Our Lives such a fascinating and useful document of its times. It's anything but an antiwar film -- although Homer Parrish (Harold Russell) has been mutilated, Fred Derry (Dana Andrews) suffers PTSD nightmares, and Al Stephenson (Fredric March) is well on his way to alcoholism, the film makes no effort to suggest that the war that inflicted these injuries on them was anything but just. The one naysayer, the "America Firster" who tangles with Homer and Fred in the drugstore, gets his just deserts, even if it costs Fred his job. What wins us over most is the performances: Fredric March overacts just a touch, but it won him the best actor Oscar. Harold Russell, the non-actor who received both a supporting actor Oscar and a special award, is engagingly real. And Dana Andrews proves once again that he was one of the best of the forgotten stars of the 1950s, carrying the film through from the beginning in which he seeks a ride home to the end in which he pays a nostalgic visit to the kind of plane from which he used to drop bombs. Neither Andrews nor Myrna Loy ever received an Oscar nomination, but their work in the film exhibits the kind of acting depth that makes showier award-winners look a little silly. Loy makes the most of her part as the wryly patient spouse, Teresa Wright manages to make a role somewhat handicapped by Production Code squeamishness about extramarital affairs convincing, and Virginia Mayo once again demonstrates her skill in "bad-girl" roles. Wyler was a director much celebrated by the industry, with a record-setting total of 12 nominations, including three wins: for this film, Mrs. Miniver (1942), and Ben-Hur (1959). He's not so much admired by those of us who cling to the idea that a director should provide a central consciousness in his films, being regarded as an impersonal technician. But Best Years is a deeply personal film for Wyler, who had just spent the war serving in the army air force, flying dangerous missions over Germany to make documentary films, during which he suffered serious hearing loss that threatened his postwar directing career. His experiences inform the film, especially the character of Fred Derry. In addition to the best picture Oscar and the ones for Wyler, March, and Russell, Best Years also won for Sherwood's screenplay, Daniel Mandell's film editing, and for Hugo Friedhofer's score. The last, I think, is questionable: Friedhofer seems determined to make sure we don't miss the emotional content of any scene, almost "mickey-mousing" the feelings of the characters with his music. It feels intrusive in some of the film's best moments, such as the beautifully staged reunion of Al and Milly, or the scene in which Homer, fearful that the hooks that replace his hands have destroyed his engagement to Wilma, invites her up to his room to help him get ready for bed, demonstrating the harness that holds his prostheses in place. It's a moment with an oddly erotic tension that doesn't need Friedhofer's strings to tell us what the characters are feeling.

#The Best Years of Our Lives #William Wyler #Dana Andrews #Teresa Wright #Myrna Loy #Fredric March #Harold Russell #Cathy O'Donnell

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whitecatindisguise · 4 years ago

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Caring For You

An idea that sprouted on the GC.

Summary: Hugo gets sick and Varian has to take care of the overly-snuggly and feverish teen. NOT VARIGO.

AO3 link is here.

Warning: mild swearing at the beginning.

------

Varian was scrunched over his workbench, pipette in his hand and goggles pulled over his eyes. He pulled out his tongue ever so slightly, squeezing the pipette gently, dripping the purple-coloured liquid into the boiling chemical. He silently counted the drops, carefully measuring the amount. One, two, three-

“Heeeeeey, Goggleees!” Long arms suddenly draped around his shoulders and, startled, Varian squeezed the pipette too hard, resulting with half of the compound pouring into the beaker.

“Shit-!” The alchemist cursed, grabbing the beaker and trusted it through the open window, squinting at the explosion that occurred soon after.

He heard Nuru’s shouts from the outside and cringed, knowing he’d have to explain himself later. He sighed and turned his attention to the dead weight at his back, the reason for the whole situation.

“Hugo, what in the Seven Kingdoms?” He groaned, attempting to push the older teen off from his back. “You know as well as I do interrupting an experiment might result in explosion!”

“Sooooooo?” Hugo seemed to be either completely oblivious to what just happened or was pulling Varian’s leg, both absolutely plausible, knowing the blonde.

“Hugo, I’m serious.” The raven-haired teen let out an exasperated sigh and pushed once more, this time managing to get the other off his back. He turned and looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow at the slight flush on his cheeks. “You okay?”

“Neveeeer been beeeetter.” Hugo replied with a slight giggle and swayed a little.

“Very convincing.” Varian muttered under his breath, pushing the goggles up to rest on the top of his head.

Hugo swayed some more and the Coronan alchemist quickly ran up to him, grabbing the older teen by the arms and gently setting him on the other chair. He took off one of his gloves and put it on Hugo’s forehead, face scrunching at the heat.

“You’re burning up.” He commented and pulled the glove back on. “Did you sleep outside again?”

“Buttercuuuuup wanted ooooooout.” Hugo slurred, eyes glassy as he swayed on the chair he was sat at. “Couldn’t leeeeft her alooooone.”

“Of course you couldn’t.” Varian rubbed his nose in annoyance.

Despite how much Hugo denied it, he had a soft spot for the puppy. He would probably jump in the fire or do something similarly stupid for the little pup. He himself loved Franky and would do anything for the puppy, but there was a difference between taking care of the animal and going crazy at its every demand.

Blue eyes rested on the swaying teen and Varian sighed tiredly.

“Okay, let’s get you to your bed.” He said, already draping the blonde’s arm over his shoulder.

“I don’t neeeeeed sleeeeeeep.” Hugo protested weakly, barely managing to walk properly, the younger teen almost dragging him out of the lab-part of the caravan. “‘Cuppie neeeeeds a waaaaalk.”

“I’ll ask Nuru to do it later. I’m sure she won’t mind.” Varian replied, grunting under the weight. He pushed open the door to the sleeping area and pondered for a moment, staring at the beds.

There were two bunk-beds inside, each belonging to one of the member of their little travelling group. At the beginning, Nuru complained a little about not having separate bedroom, but she got used to it soon, seeing as there really was not much space to create another room. Hugo’s bed was one of the top ones, right above Varian’s. The teen took a side glance at the blonde and shook his head. No way he was pushing him up to his own bed in this state. Even dragging him the distance from lab to the bedroom was tiring in itself. Guess Varian was going to take the top bed this time.

Making up his mind, he approached his own bed and deposited Hugo on it. The older teen fell down with an ‘ooff’ and Varian massaged his arm and neck, feeling his muscles hurt already.

“‘Zis not my beeeeed.” Hugo complained, lying flat on the covers, his glasses crooked a little on his nose.

“Yeah. Unless you can get your butt to the top bunk on your own, you’re sleeping on mine tonight.” Varian replied with a heavy sight.

“Snuuuuuuggle with meeeeeeee?” Hugo turned his head towards the other alchemist and Varian looked at his with surprise.

It was the first time Hugo got sick during their travel, and Varian had to admit, it was kind of interesting to see how the teen was acting. He was definitely more snuggly and open than usual. For a short moment Varian entertained the idea of using this situation for blackmail later but he quickly shot it down. They were way past blackmailing each other, sticking to light teasing and banter.

What the two of them went through, the adventures they had, memories both happy and those both would have rather forgotten… Surprisingly, instead of pushing them apart, they were brought together in a way neither of them would have predicted. Varian would have never imagine he would think of Hugo as his brother. Yet, there they were, feeling closer to each other than they were before.

A small whine shook Varian out of his thoughts and he remembered the state Hugo was in. Currently, the teen was trying to push himself up, failing miserably. Varian sighed and approached the bed, pushing the teen gently back onto the bed.

“Stop squirming and rest, idiot.” He huffed, reaching for the blanket and covering the blonde.

“Noooo. It’s too eaaaaaaarlyyyy.” Hugo complained but Varian was having none of it.

“You are sick. You need to rest.” He repeated. “I’m going to bring you some tea and fever-lowering medicine. Just lay down, please.”

When Varian came back several minutes later, the blanket was kicked off on the floor and Hugo sprawled in the position that suggested he tried to stand up again.

“Hugo, when I ask you to lay down, you lay down. And under the blanket.” The younger alchemist sighed, putting the cup of tea and a bottle of medicine on the nightstand, before picking up the blanket. He covered the blonde and helped him sit up, passing him the medicine.

“Noooooo medicineeeeee.” Hugo whined but took it nevertheless, squinting at the taste. Varian then passed him the tea which the blonde sipped slowly, humming in delight, resting his head on Varian’s shoulder.

“You are really snuggly when you’re sick.” The younger teen commented with an amused smile.

“I looooooove you, broooo.” Hugo hummed in response.

Varian felt his breath stop for a moment. It must have been the first time Hugo said those words out loud. A small smile making its way up his lips. He looked down at Hugo and noticed the teen asleep already, glasses crooked and snoring quietly.

Gently, as to not wake him up, Varian took the cup with unfinished tea from Hugo’s hands and placed it on the nightstand, doing the same with the blonde’s glasses. Then, he slowly moved away, laying the asleep teen properly on the bed, covering him tightly with the blanket.

He was just about to leave when he felt something grab his hand. He looked down to see Hugo’s hand wrapped in his, the teen’s green eyes slightly open.

“Staaaaay?” Hugo asked and Varian smiled softly, nodding his head and moving to sit down on the floor, hand still holding Hugo’s.

Satisfied, the older teen closed his eyes with a smile of his own, falling asleep quickly.

“Love you too, brother.” Varian whispered quietly, a soft hum and snore his only response.

When Nuru and Yong strolled into the caravan hours later, getting ready for bed, they found them in the same position, Hugo sleeping on the bed, Varian dozing on the floor, back against the wood, their hands still wrapped together.

#hugo #varian #alchemy brothers #sickfic #snuggly hugo #soft #fluff #mild swearing #kitty mom writes

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suhmayzooka · 5 years ago

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cursed child broadway, feb. 23, 2020

third time seeing cc in three months for one reason: my sister is, in her words, “in love with joey labrasca” (karl). she thinks he’s absolutely perfect. ��this past week i’ve endured her talking about how hot he is. i mean, i’ve gotten quite a bit of good lily luna material for my fics now, but at what expense? did i need to know that joey’s (very mild) acne made him look handsomer? did i need to know about how deep his eyes are? did I?

i teased her about what she’d do if he wasn’t on, and she said she’d be so upset.

we get to the theatre, i look at the cast…and james romney was karl.

my sister was shocked. the love of her life, who most likely has forgotten about her existence, wasn’t there for what looks to be our final time seeing the year 2 cast. she was devastated.

we also got to see antoinette robinson as hermione and tom patrick stephens as ron! and sarita amani nash was myrtle!! and kimberly dodson as polly!!

james!karl was great and i will bombard my sister with as much james romney content as i can in order to piss her off further :)

patrick du laney was the sorting hat and aaron bartz was the station master. we actually saw aaron walking into the theatre as we waited outside for part 2. he definitely has the draco swagger.

anyway let’s get to the good stuff!

~james snyder as harry! great as usual. i don’t think he did much differently than last time, or if he did it wasn’t very noticeable.

~diane davis as ginny – same w james. i think she held on to albus longer when they hug in godric’s hollow this time?

~jonno roberts as draco: okay this guy singlehandedly inspired me to start a fic back in december (that has…….yet to be finished………) with how his draco and bubba’s scorpius behaved and this was no exception. idk whether his mic got caught on something or if he was really bringing it all out, but when he shoves scorpius’s head against his desk in the dark world, he GROWLED the “you do NOT use her name in vain” line ???? i’ve never heard him say it like that, it’s usually more of a hiss. idk how to describe how he said it other than “growl.” almost like an animal.

then when he said “do it safely, i can’t lose you too” he’s looking directly at scorpius. it’s different from how i’m used to seeing him and closer how i picture him saying it; usually he’s looking away, like he’s afraid of showing vulnerability to scorpius. but here, with him looking directly at him, and said with so much emotion and love, even in such a dark place…oOOF

he refused to let go of scorpius when they met again in godric’s hollow. my heart…..always one arm around scorpius’s shoulders, or one hand on his chest, as scorpius clings on to him.

~kimberly!polly SMILED and giggled when she stepped in blood? “oh, potter, i’ve got blood on my shoe!” *delighted* and then as the staircase rolled away, she turned on her stomach to gaze down at scorpius, grinning flirtatiously. this is my second time seeing her as polly, but from what i remember, katherine!polly wasn’t as sadistic in the dark au as she was. i personally prefer kimberly!polly.

~sarita!myrtle!! like w kimberly!polly this is my second time seeing sarita!myrtle and i don’t really remember much about lauren!myrtle to compare, but sarita!myrtle was hilarious. she got a round of applause just for appearing. “girls….*turns around, stares directly @ albus* AND BOYS” *albus turns around, confused, as if she’s talking to someone behind him* UGHHH she’s so good and she’ll absolutely kill it as (main) polly, i can feel it.

~this was my first time seeing jack pravda as young harry! his voice is deeper than zell’s, and he was so adorably confused in the graveyard scene. “why are there so many flowers?”

~antoinette!hermione was a lot less playful than jenny!hermione. she does try for comedic effect, but she’s a bit more serious overall. she was so scary in the first timeline! when she waves her wand to dismiss the class and she’s standing all alone, she looks out with such a distant, despairing expression, then composes herself immediately.

~tom!ron was very funny! again, my issue with ron in cc comes down to how he was written. he may have been relegated to shitty comic relief (why……is one of the first things he says……a fart joke…..?), but it’s up to the actors do what they can to flesh out some semblance of a likeable character from the bs that the script gave us. and tom!ron was great!! he’s not as…dopey? dorky? as matt!ron, who’s very funny but a bit—childish? i guess? tom!ron feels more like an adult who still has a childish sense of humor, if that makes sense.

~ROMIONE. watching a new take on romione was like falling in love w romione all over again. tom/antoinette was a very loving pair. jenny/matt tease each other a lot more, but tom/antoinette are more tactile. their kiss was so sweet

~there’s hardly any love for sara farb’s delphi for some reason. i’m not sure why; her shift from delphi diggory to delphi riddle is so chilling. delphi diggory has a high pitched voice and is really goofy around albus. scorpius absolutely hates her lmao. as soon as she switches, her voice drops to a low growl and she’s downright terrifying. i’m sad to see her go!

~WILL CARLYON. is it possible to fall in love with the portrayal of a character in a handful of scenes? he’s got like five lines total but oh my god. one thing a lot of people note about nicholas!albus is the way he’s so obviously a fourteen-year-old child. will’s james sirius potter is SUCH a thirteen-year-old in the opening scene…it’s somewhat disconcerting watching this very-obviously-twenty-something-year-old man flap his arms going “WATCH OUTTT FOR THE THESTTRRAAAAAAALS” but it works? it’s believable?? he’s so close with lily luna. this is my third time seeing him and every time he pretends to pounce on her and hug her during the thestral line i fall in love?? ginny scolds him and he is sheepish, but he won’t stop making the troll face at albus. “SLITHERING SLYTHERIN STOP WITH YOUR DITHERING” *smacks albus*

~yeah i promised jsp content and i’m fucking delivering

~he’s sO excited watching albus get sorted. when the hat goes “SLYTHERIN” he’s absolutely shocked. he’s confused. he just stares at albus, confused, until yann (jonathan gordon, who once again gives us a delightfully dislikable yann) says some shit and james just turns to him and swats his hand at him. he genuinely looked ready to fight yann. i couldn’t tell but i think he tells him to stop?? it was hard to hear but his mouth definitely moved, i think to tell yann to cut it out.

~the scene with the students eavesdropping on mcgonagall’s meeting with the parents. oh my god i don’t think he did anything that much differently than last time but i need to talk about this because i didn’t do it justice in my last recap.

~they sit on the stairs (iirc) top to bottom craig, yann, karl, rose, james. i’m gonna ignore craig, yann, and karl since there are some serious family feels going on w rose and james

~jsp and rose begin the scene smiling, snickering as they hear that albus and scorpius fucked up. “ahaha they got into deep shit” but then when they learn that they wrote rose and hugo (??whom??) out of time and then killed harry, their faces fall. james’s eyes become vacant, far-off as he learns what happened to his brother. his breathing becomes heavier and faster until he’s a few breaths from hyperventilating. he leans his forehead against the stairwell/banister and shakes his head, mouthing/whispering “no…no…”

~nadia brown’s rose is such a little shit but she’s so good in this scene. when she learns that she didn’t exist in the new timeline, she grabs james’s shoulder and he grabs her hand. they don’t let go for the rest of the scene.

~i’m like half convinced that will got the part because of his amazingly expressive eyebrows. i think my sister calls it “back row acting?” his eyebrows can probably be seen from the back row. after the mcgonagall scene is over he sits on the stairs, raising one eyebrow at rose and hermione, then goes back to reading the scroll.

~i didn’t mean for this to become a will carlyon fan account but he deserves it. according to nicholas he’s the biggest potterhead in the cast. he’s a ravenclaw. he can sing. he’s so fucking valid and i’m so glad he’s staying for year 3. he’s got two followers on youtube and one of them is me. please guys like no one talks about him and i’ll fill this niche. same with the lovely sarita. she’s so kind and so beautiful and so talented she can sing so well and she gives everything during wand dance listen i spent the beginning of this thing making fun of my sister for liking joey so much but sarita……..

~cc nyc said straight girl/lesbian solidarity

~anyway…

~nicholas podany as albus. so. Many. Tears. i didn’t realize this before but his whole body trembles when he cries?? i first noticed this when he and harry were in the slytherin common room. i was like “are his pajamas vibrating?? is this an optical illusion (they’re striped pajamas)???” no, his whole body was shaking with suppressed crying. once i noticed i couldn’t un-notice and this continued for the rest of the show.

~bubba weiler’s scorpius didn’t seem much different from usual? i could go on about him but….that’s what my unfinished fic is for……one day……….

~okay so this is where i elaborate on the scorbus moments that made me want to YEET myself off the roof of the theatre (if you had to make sense of my typos on discord: i am Sorry)

~the slytherin dorm scene: scorpius tickles albus to wake him up. he then makes himself comfortable on albus’s bed and won’t stop rubbing and patting his thigh.

~in addition to being austistic, bubba!scorp is bisexual (jon case would be proud) and here is PROOF: to flirt, bubba!scorpius leans against objects, sprawls his body out, plays with his hair, etc all extremely cheesy, greasy, suave moves. he blows a kiss to polly as he’s sprawled across the stairs. when he ROLLS down the stairs (looked painful…) to see rose at the end, he plays with his hair, shoots her a finger gun (further proof he’s bi), and lowers his voice. but the comparison i need to highlight is THIS: when he says rose smells like bread, (1) he leans against the suitcases, trying to look suave, and (2) his face is instant regret. he silently bends back and mouths “WHAT WHY BREAD?? WHAT??? WHY???” and now…when he delivers his “ENGORGIMPRESSED” line to albus, he (1) leans against the sink, (2) grins, lowering his voice, and when the pun doesn’t land, (3) his face immediately falls, instant regret, the literal definition of “oH MY GOD WHAT WHY DID I JUST SAY THAT” the same expression he had when rose wasn’t impressed. coincidence? i think NOT. he’s trying so hard to flirt but he has no idea how to interact w people im --

~delphi in the church: when the adults have all surrounded delphi with their magic in the center of the stage, albus, ginny, and scorpius are huddled together. scorpius is behind albus, clutching his shoulder and hand. albus breaks free for “SHE’S A MURDERER I’VE SEEN HER MURDER” (an underappreciated line imo) and scorpius just watches him, clearly wanting to help but not knowing how

~the final hug. my initial, endorphin-fueled reaction was, verbatim: “THE FUNAL HUG NSCWR SEEN IR LAST SO LLNG NEVER SAW NICJ HUG HIM BACK NOSES ALMOST TOYCHONF.” not even this is enough to convey my reaction to the final hug, but i’ll try my best to transcribe it.

scorpius: runs up the stairs, grabs albus into a hug

albus: stunned for a moment, then wraps his arms around scorpius’s shoulders and hugs him back, burying his face into the crook of scorpius’s neck. this is the first time i’ve seen him hug back, at least so fiercely. they stand there for a good 3-5 seconds, then albus says, quietly, “what’s this? i thought we didn’t hug.”

scorpius, pulling back but still close to albus: “i wasn’t sure whether we should…” *looks up at albus, literal inches from his face* “in this new version of us…” *more gazing into each other’s eyes for a few seconds*

albus: “well…you better ask rose if it’s the right thing to do…” he sounded unsure? not as playful as before?

scorpius: *stares at albus for a few seconds* “a..aaha………..yeah right!”

he turns around and runs down the stairs. albus goes “i’ll see you at dinner!” and scorpius turns around, smiles at him, and walks off, albus grinning and gazing so lovingly as he departs i’m gonna c r y

i can’t think of anything else to say about the show itself? but my sister has given me a lot of material so i’m gonna talk about what went on with her because it’s relevant to our stage door interactions.

as we ate, she described how she would rewrite cc. she has valid and absolutely invalid suggestions. she would keep the father/son issues, make scorbus canon, remove or rewrite rose, and rewrite delphi’s backstory (valid). she would remove the sorting hat and the dark timeline (not valid).

during the intermission between acts 3 and 4, we started looking through the playbill and she started gossiping/venting about how much she hates the people in her school’s theatre (valid, since they’re bullying assholes). i brought up a meme i sent her that i saw on twitter about how no high school theatre guys can sing, act, dance, and not be sexist. somehow this discussion went back to nicholas podany? she was like, “i’ve been listening to his songs and deep blue is a low-key bop.” i asked if she heard his most recent song, telling myself. she hadn’t and she immediately went to soundcloud to listen to it. her reaction was PRICELESS. she absolutely adored it. she was dancing in her seat, going “okay this is actually really good??” like ofc it is? i don’t recommend bad songs? she tried to replay it but then her data ran out and the lyric theatre wifi is shit so she got very upset. then the lights turned off and she reluctantly took out her earbuds.

there was a little girl (around 6-7ish, i’d say) in the very first row dressed as hermione for part one--complete with a doll and a broom. for part two she was wearing a hedwig costume that looked homemade! she was very adorable, and bubba waved hello to her when he came for the curtain call.

stage door:

~sarita came out first! we told her that this was our third time at the show and second time seeing her. i congratulated her on being cast as polly and she was so happy! dare i say…..loml

~tom and antoinette were so happy to have been the first cover romione we saw! tom was like “ah, you saw the best ron (himself)!” we were in front of a man from the uk who had seen the london show five times, and he and tom struck up a conversation about where they were from.

~nadia brown was so happy to see us! she didn’t remember us lmao but she’s so friendly

~edward james hyland (amos/dumbledore) was…politically campaigning?? the people in front of us were from vermont and he was like “ah…vermont…do you support bernie??” just like that. they were caught off guard but i think they gave an affirmative answer, and he was like “and if he doesn’t get the nomination…?” they were still caught off guard and he just went “you’ll vote blue, right…? cause it’s the right thing to do….?” idk i’m firmly liberal but i thought this was a weird place to get political but okay

~EVERYONE was telling nicholas podany about how much they love telling myself. he was telling the people in front of us about how it was mastered/mixed by solange’s producer(?) and my sister and i exchanged :0 looks. she was getting shy, but i was like “tell him! he’ll love to talk about it, i guarantee it!” because even though i produce 0 content, i *am* an artist and i *do* know that we artists love validation

~so he came to us and she started talking about his songs! we’re fortunate that it was a more rock-y song so we’re…able to sound like we know what we’re talking about lmao. growing up our mom would play us classical music (check out beethoven’s wig yo) and our dad would play us the ramones. one of my earliest memories was arguing with my sister (probably around 4 at the time) about the lyrics to “i wanna be sedated” ahh… (she was correct btw)

~(don’t argue with me the ramones may not be poets but they’re valid)

~i was right! he was SO excited to talk to us!! my sister complimented the song and the production. she said “i ADORE your new song!! it’s a high key bop!” and he broke into the BIGGEST smile. she was like “i’m gonna play it until i hate it” and he said something along the lines of “i was in the studio listening to it nonstop for 8(??) hours i can’t stand it.” he was talking about how he made the song with his “own scorpius” but i forgot who…he said scorpius and my mind blanked lmao. he’s brought this person up before in interviews so i can probably find it. she complimented the fact that it was different from his usual stuff and he told us about how he had a rock band in high school. @nick where tf is your rock content pls deliver

~i actually spoke this time and cut in to tell him about how she was trying to listen to it on repeat but the signal gave out. she was trying to tell me to shut up but it’s my legal duty as the older sister to embarrass her.

me: “I told her about your song during the intermission—”

her: “don’t!”

me: “no, nO, i told her and she was listening and then she ran out of data—”

him: “aaAa noo!”

her: “I listened to it!”

~then i told him that we loved seeing how he played albus and that we’re going to miss him, that we were going to see the cast change show but we couldn’t get tickets (i kindly left off the reason why), and he was so sweet about it *clenches heart* he told us how much he loves being able to experience this, that we’ll be so lucky to have james romney take over, etc etc i kinda wasn’t listening bc I was too emo, but I remember going “…but I don’t want to say goodbye…” and he just. gave me a sad look like “I know.” there was so much pity in his expression. why is he leaving us.

~the uk guy behind us was talking about how he’d seen the london year 3 and 4. nicholas was like “oh, joe and dom? yeah i’ve spoken to joe and dom—wait, no, i haven’t met dom? i know he has an impressive social media presence” and they started talking about how different actors bring different things to albus and how the show allows them to explore different aspects to their characters and he just…wasn’t making any of this any easier for me lmao i’m mourning the loss of nick!albus and it’s not even march

~i feel bad that we weren’t able to speak with fiona reid (petunia/umbridge) because nicholas was talking to us.

~jonno roberts. this was the first time i’ve interacted w him at sd. his draco has made such an impact on me, he’s my favorite actor in the show, and what do i say? what great words come out of my mouth? “hi you were great.” my sister KICKED me with her heeled boots. good thing i’m a lesbian because my doc martens protected my feet from the force of her anger.

~james snyder was enraptured in conversation with the people in front of us and just took our playbills to sign as he spoke with them. then he went “hi,” passed over us to talk to the guy behind us. my sister was like “you were great!”

~tbh sd was kinda messy bc we were at the end of the line and the barrier things didn’t allow for the actors to get enough room to interact with the fans at the back. also jonno was standing there and he’s not a small man.

~saw several male actors leaving sd, waving goodbye at us and just walking away. MOOD. i was exhausted and i wasn’t the one running around on stage!

#ccsquad #cursed child #hp #i see cc

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darkbluestateofgrace · 6 years ago

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The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (a Taylor Swift Jukebox Musical)

So @thefuckingstory was saying that she should “drop out of school and write TSHOEH the musical” and I coincidentally have had an unfinished version of this saved in my notes ap for almost a year since reading the book over the summer- so I figured I’d finish it up a bit more post it for your enjoyment.

Disclaimer: I am by no means a professional musical-outliner (obviously), and anyone please feel free to add on to this with your own ideas!

The Seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo (a loose outline for a Taylor Swift jukebox musical)

Like the book, this musical could be a frame tale- I’m thinking maybe it’s Monique narrating the story (As if she’s writing the memoir/telling the story to the world)- And I figure that she could be singing snippets of the Lucky One in between major events to set the upcoming scenes - sort of like in Hamilton where the narrator Aaron Burr sings a refrain that outlines what’s about to happen.

So we start of with Monique telling us about how Evelyn is gonna rise to fame:

New to town with a made up name

In the Angels city chasing fortune and fame

And the camera flashes make it look like a dream

You had it figured out since you were in school

Everybody loves pretty everybody loves cool

So overnight you look like a sixties queen

I Did Something Bad- Evelyn Hugo- this song is literally her ANTHEM, and I think she could sing snippets of it and the chorus throughout this musical. I think we’d start with the first verse/chorus as she marries/manipulates Ernie Diaz and they move to Hollywood (So I play ‘em like a violin, and I make it look oh so easy...) And then after getting what she wants she divorces him. (I don’t regret it one bit, ‘cause he had it coming)

Style- Evelyn Hugo/Don Adler as they’re coerced into their showmance/ Become the it couple of Hollywood/ fall in love and get married.

Gorgeous- Celia would sing this about how she/literally everyone feels looking at Evelyn (touching my hand in a darkened room!! Foreshadowing to the Dancing With Our Hands Tied- esque scene later in the book!!) Also on pg 137 Celia says to Evelyn “You’re gorgeous” so basically this is canon.

And then after speaking interludes during this song, Evelyn finds out that Don is cheating on her, and that Celia is gay, this song culminates in them kissing in the laundry room.

This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things- Evelyn Hugo finds out Don is cheating on her, and she divorces him. (Because you break them, I had to take them away).

Dons gets her blackballed. Harry and Celia comfort her/ she hangs out at Celia’s house (Here’s a toast to my real friends, they don’t care about the he said she said).

Delicate- Evelyn Hugo after she’s ended her marriage, has had her reputation ruined by Don Adler and is trying to figure out her feelings for Celia while hiding out in her apartment… (This song literally fits them perfectly!).

Dress- Evelyn and Celia.

Evelyn stops ignoring her feelings for Celia… And they’re both like yeahhh I don’t want you like a best friend…

Call It What You Want- Evelyn Hugo. She’s been blackballed (My castle crumbled overnight), and is alone watching Celia win an Oscar and chips her tooth … And then Celia comes home just to be with her (They took the crown but it’s alright… ‘Cause my baby’s fit like a daydream, walking with her head down, I’m the one she’s walking to).

Look What You Made Me Do- Evelyn Hugo

Evelyn films that kind of seductive, racy scene in Boute En Train, and becomes a star again. She sings this about how Don Adler blackballing her couldn’t keep her from being a star. (I don’t like your little games, the role you made me play) (Honey I rose up from the dead I do it all the time)

Dancing with Our Hands Tied- Evelyn and Celia.

After the French movie comes out, Evelyn’s more famous than ever and she and Celia are dancing at the concert.. And they accidentally hold hands and then pull away… This is SO Kissgate I literally cannot handle it. This song fits them perfectly. And then they argue about what to do because the press is spreading rumors about them (people started talking putting us through our paces)

Blank Space- Evelyn would sing this satirically as she manipulates Mick Riva and they fly off for the weekend and get drunk and then married (We’ll take this way to far) (I’ve got a Blank Space baby, and I’ll write your name).

I Did Something Bad (reprise)- Evelyn Hugo

A short reprise after Evelyn elopes with Mick Riva in Las Vegas (I fly ‘em all around the world, and I let them think they saved me) just to get rid of rumors about her and Celia. And then she manipulates him into divorcing her. (They never see it coming… What I do next…).

Don’t Blame Me (First Verse/Chorus)-Celia and Evelyn

Celia finds out Evelyn slept with Mick Riva and is pregnant. So Evelyn would sing the beginning of the song/first verse (Don’t blame me, love made me crazy/ I’ve been breaking hearts a long time and toying with them older guys/ just playthings for me to use). And Celia would be like You ain’t doing it right.

I feel like we need an angry Taylor breakup song for Celia to sing at this point. Maybe Should’ve Said No? Or Dear John even, idk. She’s PISSED.

Getaway Car- Evelyn

Evelyn isn’t willing to give up her fame for her relationship with Celia. Evelyn recounts the sacrifices she’s made for fame/stability in the past and how Celia should’ve expected this (Think about the place where you first met me… In a Getaway Car). And how their relationship was doomed from the start (The light of freedom on my face, but you weren’t thinking, and I was just drinking). During the course of the song Celia and Evelyn part ways and Evelyn marries Rex (I put the money in the bag and I stole the keys, that was the last time you ever saw me).

Then Evelyn starts fake dating/marries that another man I forget his name:

Now it’s big black cars, and riviera views

And your lover in the foyer doesn’t even know you

And your secrets end up splashed on the news front page.

And they tell you that you’re lucky but you’re so confused

‘Cause you don’t feel pretty

You just feel used

And all the young things line up to take your place

Don’t Blame Me (reprise) - Evelyn and Celia

When Celia and Evelyn reconcile at the bathroom of the Oscars… And they kiss in a pretty public place “because we both knew what we were willing to risk. Just to be together” (231)- which is so reminiscent of: Baby for you I would fall from Grace, just to touch your face, if you walk away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay.

I Know Places: Evelyn/Celia/Harry/John

All four of them enter their bearding situation. (I know places we won’t be found, and they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down... They take their shots but we’re bulletproof, and you know for me, it’s always you).

Honestly New Romantics could fit here too a bit with the whole: We team up, then switch sides like a record changer.

White Horse- Celia

After Celia finds out about Evelyn’s sex scene with Don Adler, and she’s so sad and she can’t handle it and leaves. (I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale… I’m gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me well).

So skipping ahead a lot here, but the next Taylor song I think that really fits is How You Get the Girl- when Celia and Evelyn meet up again years later and Celia tells Evelyn she’s dying and Evelyn says she wants to be with her anyway… (I want you for worse or for better, i would wait for ever and ever, broke your heart I’ll put it back together).

Wildest Dreams- Celia and Evelyn

After Harry dies, Celia, Evelyn and Evelyn’s daughter Conner move away to Spain. Evelyn knows Celia is terminally ill (nothing lasts forever), but they drive out of the city, away from the crowds and get married. Celia dies (red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams) Fuck this book!

New Years day could work at the end of the musical as a reflective song about all the hardships they went through and how sad Evelyn is about Celia’s death.

Then Monique would narrate one last time, now grappling with her own fame having written this bestselling memoir about Evelyn Hugo, and dealing with trying to forgive Evelyn for what she did:

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere,

Chose the rose garden over Madison Square,

And it took some time, but I understand it now...

‘Cause now my name is up in lights...

But I think you got it right...

If anyone actually read this whole thing you are amazing, and I’m sure we can all agree that is literally crazy how well Taylor’s discography fits in relation to this book...

#Gaylor Swift #Kaylor #TSHOEH #the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #kissgate #tshoeh the musical

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onewhoturns · 5 years ago

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fictober.13.: speech

#Fictober19 Prompt: 13. I never knew it could be this way. Fandom: Oxenfree Pairing: Alex/m!OC, Jonas/Alex (ambiguously maybe/maybe not one-sided) [future fic] Rating: T (no warnings apply) Tags: Alex is getting married, Jonas isn’t happy about that, implied stepcest Word Count: 2032

There’s a chime around the room as the man stands, tapping silverware against his crystal glass. Clean cut, clean shaven, well dressed, looking like he just rolled out of a J. Crew catalogue. That formal kind of casual. Everything about this event screams expensive informal.

The invite said casual wear. Jonas is under-dressed. As per usual, with this group. (Apart from Alex, that is. At least, how she dresses around him.)

“Thank you all so much for being here with us this weekend, for such a momentous event in our lives,” the man begins, his teeth too white as he smiles that too straight smile. “Alex and I are so grateful to all of you.”

Bullshit.

Jonas’s head cocks slightly, chiding himself. That’s not fair. He probably is legitimately grateful. He’d better be.

“Before the ceremony on Sunday, I just wanted to take this opportunity - with a much smaller audience - to say a few words. So… be patient with me, okay, I usually only make speeches with a nice array of visual aides to back me up.” The room laughs politely.

The man (Jason. Jason Flemming.) clears his throat, and his lips have that little quirk that Jonas reads as smug. Which might be unfair. He has to keep reminding himself not to be unfair. Cause Alex loves him. (Maybe.)

Jason pulls out a note card, but only glances at it briefly. "I never knew it could be this way."

His hand is on the back of Alex’s chair. He’s got a watch that probably costs more than half of Jonas’s wardrobe. Jonas watches it carefully, and tries not to see Alex’s adoring look up at her fiancé. Soon to be husband. 48 hours. Less, actually.

“I can honestly say that I am truly blessed to have Alex by my side,” Jason continues, and his hand slides onto her shoulder, squeezing for a second, even as his eyes watch the rest of the room. It’s something that irritates Jonas just a little bit. That he’d take his eyes off his bride-to-be for even a moment. “I have had the privilege to watch her grow and mature and develop into the woman she is today.”

Jonas’s jaw clenches, and he’s too focused on his breath, on keeping his temper in check, because that’s just—

“If you had told me, the night I met Alex, that years later she’d be my wife, I never would have believed you. I would have looked at her - dancing on a table, I kid you not, the night we met - and said there was no way that she could ever be tamed. Yet here we are, four years later. Alex is wearing white - and you know that’s a feat in and of itself - and my parents are thrilled to call her their daughter in law.”

Tame her. He wants to tame her. Alex isn’t meant to be tamed. Tempered, maybe, but never tamed. Yet that’s what this Jason has done. Slowly, over time, but gradually he’s been sanding away at her rough edges, polishing her up, smoothing her into something pretty to stick on his shelf.

Maybe.

All of this is conjecture on Jonas’s part, of course. It’s not like it’s something Jason has done maliciously. And Alex may have been just as complicit. But it feels wrong.

“Tonight never would have been possible without all of you; our family and friends,” he goes on. “I’m sure my own parents are well aware of our gratitude and - well, mom, I’m sure Alex is thankful for the pearls as well-” Pearls. Alex in pearls. It’s too cookie-cutter country club. Jonas glances to Alex, finally, and she’s looking just a little nervous. A little bit put on the spot, offering a crooked smile to her very blonde soon-to-be mother-in-law. “-but I want to extend my personal thanks to Alex’s family as well.” Jason himself has dark hair, like his dad. Who’s wearing Hugo Boss. To a rehearsal dinner that was labeled casual.

“To Alex’s father, David; thank you. Without you, this never would have been possible.”

Without David’s threat to stop paying Alex’s tuition. Alex had been utterly distraught, and Jonas had been the one comforting her through it, through her security crisis, when she felt like she was just hovering over a precipice of no education and no savings. The ‘compromise’ that had come to pass moved Alex out of their house and into her dad’s. She got Thanksgivings with them, but Christmas was with the new family. Jonas knows she never really felt at home there. It was why she took every break she could to come visit. But it was never the same, not really. They never had what they used to. Not that Jonas didn’t want it.

“To Alex’s stepmother, Anne; thank you, for your kindness and hospitality. You truly are the perfect hostess, and I honestly think my mother envies you.”

Translation: good little housewife. Alex may not have brought it up recently, but that was one of those things she’d mentioned a lot after the move. Feeling like she had to be performing around her new extended family. Like she was constantly being judged, like they were deciding if she was worth the investment. She was terrified, and Jonas was her shoulder to cry on as often as he was her guilty pleasure. Not— not like that. Not since they were teens. But he was the one she could wear sweats around every day, and stay up with til 2 watching horror movies (her choice, not his), and unabashedly eat all the processed foods banned in Anne’s home. He was her pillow and her ride home and the reluctant participant in every instance of acting out that she couldn’t do around her dad. Well, maybe not every instance. He got the inside scoop on some of her wild nights in college as well.

Until Jason. Until fucking Stephanie, and Casey, and Jason. Being brought into the Stepford fold, as he so uncharitably considered it (to himself, never aloud). Their gentle guidance.

It’s not fair— Jonas knows it’s not fair to think of them that way. Alex really does like them. And he’s met them and… well, aside from being kinda… basic, they aren’t too bad. Just sorta boring. Not exactly the type to go breaking into old amusement parks, or climbing around unfinished construction sites, or deciding that 21 was the year to cross bungee jumping off of her bucket list. They were cosmopolitans, she was a shot of jaeger with a coffee chaser. Unorthodox, and an acquired taste that you couldn’t really forget. Also, maybe a little fucked up on the palate. His lips twitch at that thought.

“To Alex’s mother, Grace; thank you. I have never felt such warmth as I do around you and Martin. Martin, as well, you have always made me feel part of the family.”

Jonas’s dad is smiling. He’s too easygoing. And Jason is… unobjectionable, Jonas supposes, grudgingly. Business major. Not a frat boy, but still in a fraternity. He’s generous, at least, and conscientious. Always makes an effort to follow up on things they’ve talked about in the past. He can even dial down the rich-kid thing, when he stays with them in Camena. But that’s kinda the annoying part; that he’s not that bad. Just irritatingly unobjectionable. He’s nice to Alex, he is. He’s patient with her. And he’s soft and affectionate when it matters, but… But Jonas still gets her calls when she’s upset about something. He’s still the one getting called at 3am so she won’t wake up her fiancé with panic from nightmares.

“To Alex’s brothers—”

Jonas tries not to wince. Aside from just the dropping of the step distinction, being compared to Alex’s other stepbrother is… well, insulting. The douche is a workaholic med student, who’s never in a good mood. Who can never resist the chance to throw insults at Jonas over his vocational schooling and lack of a four-year degree. In layman’s terms: Will is an asshole.

“Will; I am thrilled to no longer be the youngest child! Finally, someone to give noogies to, and lecture about— well, nothing, you’re way more educated than I am,” he grins as the room laughs. Will is smirking, and Jonas resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I fully believe that you will be the next top surgeon wherever you decide to take your talents after residency.” Optimistic, assuming the douche is gonna be a half-decent doctor, when Jonas already knows his bedside manner must be horrific.

“Jonas;” Jonas tries to put on a slight smile. It’s easier if he looks at Alex, whose eyes are bright and appreciative and warm when she looks at him. “I really do have to thank you.” Jason sounds sincere. It almost makes Jonas feel guilty. Almost. “From the bottom of my heart. I have no doubt-” Jason breaks off, speaking more casually, speaking to the room at large, with a crooked smile that feels like something he probably picked up from Alex; “-Have you guys met Jonas? Look, when I started dating Alex— he’s an intimidating guy, right?” Jason grins, looking back at him. “I have no doubt that if you ever thought I wasn’t good enough for your baby sister I would’ve been kicked to the curb in a matter of seconds - either literally or figuratively.” Baby sister. Yeah, he’s never thought of her that way. Though the rest of that is… close. There may have been times Jonas grumbled that Alex’s boyfriend wasn’t quite enough of a dick to actually deserve a threatening.

Jason goes on, jokingly. “I always have this sneaking suspicion that Alex only gave me a chance because she misread my name as Jonas instead of Jason.” There’s a tittering of laughter, and Jonas’s eyes flick to Alex, who’s blushing a little, a hand over her eyes as she shakes her head. She’s still smiling, though. It’s cute. “So for that I have to be insanely thankful.” It’s less cute when Jonas spots Jason’s hand rubbing reassuringly at Alex’s shoulder.

“Alex goes to you for everything - I think your name comes up more than the rest of my entire family-” he jibes, teasingly. It’s frustrating that he’s having a good sense of humor about this. When Jonas has always felt a little… guilty. About that. “...and you have been the most supportive stepbrother she could have ever asked for.” Oh. Oh that’s something that makes Jonas’s lips curve up a bit with his own little touch of pride. Because that’s Jason siding with him over Will. Which is kinda nice.

“It’s a little unorthodox to have a Man of Honor, but Alex has always been a little outside the box. And, I’ll admit, I was pretty jealous of you once upon a time.” Again, Jonas looks to Alex, who’s rolling her eyes, but hasn’t taken her eyes off of him. She’s still blushing. It kinda makes his stomach flip a little bit. “But taking the girls to Vegas, that was really taking one for the team, and your patience is utterly commendable— being the cock in the hen do, so to speak.” Jason has that slightly sheepish smirk as a few people - including Alex - giggle a bit at the words.

Right. Vegas. That had been…

Jonas’s brow furrows for just a second as he studies Alex. She’s still bright eyed and glowing. Like a girl in love. Even if he’s… he’s just not sure if she is. Not after Vegas.

“But that’s enough about that,” Jason smiles, gesturing to the room in a sort of apology for going on. “Suffice it to say; I’m thrilled to have not one but two new sets of parents to buy Christmas gifts for, and two new siblings to rib me about all of my bad life decisions. Luckily— I know that this isn’t one of them.” Jason finally looks at Alex. And… yeah, okay. He looks happy too. In love. Which… well. It’s good, probably. At least he’ll care about her.

“So I invite you all to raise a glass. To all of them, and to Alex. For being exactly what I needed.”

[source for AO3]

#fictober19 #oxenfree #jonalex #alex/jonas #alex getting married #my writing #prompt fill #this is gonna be a fun verse #turner's hallmark period

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nathancone · 5 years ago

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A Second Decade of Movies

Ten years ago on Facebook, I compiled a list of every movie I watched, in order, from the first decade of the network’s existence. Now, here’s part two, covering the years 2010-2019. There are 754 titles below, though some are repeat viewings. The movie I watched the most? Harold Lloyd in “The Freshman.” My favorite movie from the last decade? “The Tree of Life.”

But I began the 2010s with James Cameron’s mega-hit “Avatar.” I’ll go on record saying the movie is still enjoyable ten years later, as I watched it again in 2019 with my kids to prep for visiting the World of Pandora at Disney’s Animal Kingdom. But--I also agree with those who say there’s little remembered from the film in the culture today. Can you name the stars? Recount the plot in detail? Mostly what we remember from the film is the spectacle of it all, game-changing when it was released in 2009.

At any rate, enjoy the list below! If a title is hotlinked, it will take you to an essay, interview, or related coverage on the film by yours truly.

1. Avatar 2. I Walked With A Zombie 3. The Paradine Case 4. Whip It 5. The Body Snatcher 6. Coraline 7. Everybody’s Fine 8. The Blind Side 9. The Hurt Locker 10. Citizen Architect 11. Fantastic Mr. Fox 12. Dance With the One 13. The Happy Poet 14. When I Rise 15. Mr. Nice 16. �� Lemmy 17. Haynesville 18. Rashomon 19. Cabin in the Sky 20. Toy Story 2 21. Being There 22. Modern Times 23. Iron Monkey 24. Kiki’s Delivery Service 25. Alice In Wonderland 26. WALL·E 27. Goldfinger 28. A Fistful of Dollars 29. The Red Shoes 30. M. Hulot’s Holiday 31. When In Rome 32. Toy Story 3 33. The Godfather 34. White Heat 35. The Girl on the Train 36. Mary Poppins 37. Kapò 38. Dr. Strangelove 39. White Dog 40. Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home 41. Scoop 42. Katyn 43. Metropolis 44. Days of Heaven 45. Shane 46. Ramona and Beezus 47. Duck Soup 48. Pillow Talk 49. Monte Carlo 50. Persona 51. The Powderkids 52. Machete 53. THX 1138 54. Ran 55. Fantasia 2000 56. Contempt 57. The Big Red One 58. Mid-August Lunch 59. McCabe & Mrs. Miller 60. Casablanca 61. The Last Song 62. Close Encounters of the Third Kind 63. Sherlock, Jr. 64. The Thin Red Line 65. Modern Times 66. Fantasia 67. Mon Oncle 68. Stagecoach 69. Hallelujah 70. Mademoiselle Chambon 71. Double Take 72. Black Swan 73. Tangled 74. The King’s Speech 75. TRON: Legacy 76. A Safe Place 77. The King of Marvin Gardens 78. Wings of Desire 79. Head 80. The Social Network 81. Drive, He Said 82. The Fighter 83. Gold Diggers in Paris 84. The Gay Divorcee 85. The Love Parade 86. 127 Hours 87. Never Let Me Go 88. Forrest Gump 89. A Film Unfinished 90. How To Train Your Dragon 91. Modern Times 92. Malcolm X 93. When I Rise 94. Inception 95. The Kids Are All Right 96. A Time For Drunken Horses 97. Our Hospitality 98. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir 99. The Mikado 100. Something Ventured 101. Five Time Champion 102. Natural Selection 103. Kumare 104. F#$k My Life 105. Hesher 106. Small, Beautifully Moving Parts 107. Win Win 108. Beats of Freedom 109. Topsy-Turvy 110. Taken By Storm 111. I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang 112. Army of Shadows 113. The Life of Emile Zola 114. Rio 115. East of Eden 116. The Drummond Will 117. Cooper 118. Marriage Italian Style 119. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 120. Sunflower 121. Salt of This Sea 122. Casablanca 123. The Happy Thieves 124. The Art of Getting By 125. Patty Hearst 126. Breathless 127. The Tree of Life 128. Nora’s Will 129. Mr. Popper’s Penguins 130. My Man Godfrey 131. The Muppet Movie 132. Back to the Future 133. Back to the Future Part II 134. Back to the Future Part III 135. Rear Window 136. Q: The Winged Serpent 137. Cars 2 138. The Godfather Part II 139. Super 8 140. Dazed and Confused 141. All Night Long 142. The Tree of Life 143. Winnie the Pooh 144. M. Hulot’s Holiday 145. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan 146. A Thousand Clowns 147. Tokyo Story 148. The Smurfs 149. The League of Gentlemen 150. Malcolm X (1972) 151. Late Spring 152. Ladies & Gentlemen the Rolling Stones 153. The Princess Bride 154. Hud 155. The Boys 156. Poetry 157. Waking Sleeping Beauty 158. Martha Marcy May Marlene 159. Seduced and Abandoned 160. The Nightmare Before Christmas 161. The Third Man 162. Dressed To Kill 163. Echotone 164. Straw Dogs (1971) 165. Sapphire 166. Broken Embraces 167. The Wild One 168. La Belle et la Bête 169. The Tree of Life 170. Beauty and the Beast 171. Killer’s Kiss 172. The Producers 173. Camille (1921) 174. She’s Gotta Have It 175. La Belle et la Bête 176. The Descendants 177. Hugo 178. The Muppets 179. Another Earth 180. Rise of the Planet of the Apes 181. Alvin & the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked 182. The Artist 183. Arthur Christmas 184. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button 185. Midnight in Paris 186. War Horse 187. The Whistleblower 188. The Great Waltz 189. Manhattan 190. Annie Hall 191. The Help 192. Moneyball 193. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close 194. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 195. The Lorax 196. Kid-Thing 197. Zodiac 198. Hunky Dory 199. Wolf 200. Tchoupitoulas 201. 21 Jump Street 202. Crulic: The Path to Beyond 203. The Imposter 204. The Descendants 205. Victim 206. Revenge of the Electric Car 207. We Bought a Zoo 208. Titanic (3D) 209. Shame 210. The Jazz Singer 211. For Greater Glory 212. Lola Versus 213. The Avengers 214. Prometheus 215. Citizen Kane 216. Brave 217. Rio Bravo 218. The Black Hole 219. Thunder Soul 220. The Gold Rush 221. Children of Paradise 222. The Natural 223. An American in Paris 224. North By Northwest 225. Harold and Maude 226. Killer Joe 227. Gilda 228. Miss Bala 229. Bride of Frankenstein 230. The Graduate 231. Madagascar 3 232. Close Encounters of the Third Kind 233. Star Trek VI: The Final Frontier 234. TRON: Legacy 235. Rise of the Guardians 236. Lincoln 237. Finding Nemo 238. Hitchcock 239. The Illusionist 240. Les Misérables 241. A Christmas Story 242. Kit Kittredge: An American Girl 243. Silver Linings Playbook 244. The Apple Dumpling Gang 245. Zero Dark Thirty 246. Wreck-It Ralph 247. On the Waterfront 248. The Life of Pi 249. Argo 250. Bag It 251. Loves Her Gun 252. Good Night 253. Mud 254. Museum Hours 255. This Is Where We Live 256. Unreal Dream: The Michael Morton Story 257. Sake-Bomb 258. The Girl 259. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore 260. Return to the Hiding Place 261. The Purple Rose of Cairo 262. To The Wonder 263. Epic 264. There Will Be Blood 265. Star Trek Into Darkness 266. Lawrence of Arabia 267. The Birds 268. Star Trek: First Contact 269. Barry Lyndon 270. Star Wars: A New Hope 271. Saboteur 272. Hell’s House 273. Of Human Bondage 274. The Flowers of St. Francis 275. Monsters University 276. Old Joy 277. Out of Africa 278. Safety Last! 279. The Killing 280. A Night To Remember 281. Singin’ in the Rain 282. Sherlock, Jr. 283. The Smurfs 2 284. Planes 285. Sicko 286. Brief Encounter 287. Meek’s Cutoff 288. Wendy and Lucy 289. Side By Side 290. A.I. Artificial Intelligence 291. Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 2 292. Powaqqatsi 293. Machete Kills 294. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back 295. The Royal Tenenbaums 296. Moonrise Kingdom 297. Bottle Rocket 298. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou 299. The Exorcist 300. The Darjeeling Limited 301. Dreamgirls 302. Dallas Buyers Club 303. Brewster McCloud 304. Cruising 305. City Lights 306. Saving Mr. Banks 307. Frozen 308. Lili 309. The Gold Rush 310. Ninotchka 311. 12 Angry Men 312. Lone Survivor 313. Her 314. The Nut Job 315. Cool It 316. American Hustle 317. Money and Medicine 318. Life Itself 319. The X From Outer Space 320. Captain Phillips 321. A Cat in Paris 322. Le Ciel est à Vous 323. Las Marthas 324. Rezeta 325. La Jaola de Oro 326. Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory 327. Clue 328. Gravity 329. Nebraska 330. The Lego Movie 331. Up 332. Liv & Ingmar 333. Before Midnight 334. Two Weeks in Another Town 335. Rio 2 336. All Is Lost 337. The Great Mouse Detective 338. The Adventures of Robin Hood 339. Stephen Tobolowsky’s Birthday Party 340. Belle 341. Bottled Up: The Battle Over Dublin Dr Pepper 342. My Dinner With Andre 343. Harry Dean Stanton Partly Fiction 344. The Lego Movie 345. Bears 346. The Nightmare Before Christmas 347. Contempt 348. How To Train Your Dragon 2 349. Vertigo 350. Gojira 351. The Wizard of Oz 352. 12 Angry Men 353. A Hard Day’s Night 354. Network 355. Picnic At Hanging Rock 356. Get On Up 357. E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial 358. The Drop 359. The Match Factory Girl 360. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes 361. Superman 362. Horse Feathers 363. I Married A Witch 364. The Grand Budapest Hotel 365. Il Sorpasso 366. Conde Drácula 367. Boyhood 368. Fun and Fancy Free 369. The Freshman (1925) 370. Intimidation 371. I Am Love 372. Fantastic Mr. Fox 373. The Freshman (1925) 374. The Freshman (1925) 375. Safe 376. Invitation to the Dance 377. Captain America: The Winter Soldier 378. Bicycle Thieves 379. Sherlock, Jr. 380. Whiplash 381. Ida 382. Tron 383. Return of the Jedi 384. Petting Zoo 385. Western 386. Cinderella (2015) 387. Lamb 388. Babysitter 389. The Thin Blue Line 390. Vernon, Florida 391. Gates of Heaven 392. Purple Rain 393. Sullivan’s Travels 394. Star Wars: Episode I 395. Safety Last! 396. Jesus Christ Superstar 397. Anatomy of a Murder 398. Mary Poppins 399. Inside Out 400. Love & Mercy 401. A Star Is Born (1954) 402. The Princess and the Frog 403. The Freshman (1925) 404. Zazie dans la Métro 405. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre 406. Lilo & Stitch 407. Monkey Kingdom 408. Foreign Correspondent 409. The Princess Bride 410. Tomorrowland 411. Rome: Open City 412. A Hard Day’s Night 413. Star Trek: Generations 414. The Roaring Twenties 415. Following the Ninth 416. Samantha: An American Girl Holiday 417. He Named Me Malala 418. Wings of Life 419. Singin’ in the Rain 420. The Peanuts Movie 421. Spotlight 422. The Good Dinosaur 423. Fantasia 2000 424. Reel Injun 425. It Happened One Night 426. Star Wars: The Force Awakens 427. Star Wars: Episode II 428. Concussion 429. One Hour With You 430. Enchanted 431. A Room With A View 432. The Hateful Eight 433. Speedy 434. Time Out of Mind 435. Cinderella (2015) 436. The Lady Vanishes 437. Naqoyqatsi 438. Suzanne’s Career 439. Bear Country 440. The 100 Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window… 441. Bandidas 442. Star Wars: The Force Awakens 443. Virtuosity 444. The Big Short 445. Two Days, One Night 446. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe 447. Bridge of Spies 448. Brooklyn 449. Michael Jackson From Motown To Off The Wall 450. Tower 451. Transpecos 452. Last Night at the Alamo 453. Claire In Motion 454. Zootopia 455. Bodyguard 456. W. 457. The Adventures of Pepper and Paula 458. The Jungle Book (2016) 459. Star Wars: The Force Awakens 460. Captain America: Civil War 461. What About Bob? 462. Love & Friendship 463. Dial M For Murder 464. Garfield 465. Ben-Hur 466. To Kill A Mockingbird 467. Citizenfour 468. Finding Dory 469. Ant-Man 470. The Quiet Man 471. The Peanuts Movie 472. The BFG 473. My Dinner With Andre 474. Children of Men 475. The Last Temptation of Christ 476. The Secret Life of Pets 477. Chimes At Midnight 478. Brewed in the 210 479. Saturday Night Fever 480. The New World 481. Who Framed Roger Rabbit 482. Walt & El Grupo 483. Saludos Amigos 484. The Jungle Book (2016) 485. The Last Picture Show 486. Beetlejuice 487. The King and I 488. Ride in the Whirlwind 489. Dracula 490. The Angry Birds Movie 491. The Sword in the Stone 492. Queen of Katwe 493. The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad 494. Beetlejuice 495. Dracula 496. Arrival 497. Tron: Legacy 498. Akira Kurosawa’s Dreams 499. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them 500. Boomerang (1947) 501. Safety Last! 502. South of the Border 503. Honey, I Shrunk The Kids 504. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them 505. Jiro Dreams of Sushi 506. Rogue One 507. Moana 508. Once 509. Redes 510. Max Dugan Returns 511. Amadeus 512. The New World 513. 13th 514. Star Trek III: The Search for Spock 515. Yarn 516. Paddington 517. Hidden Figures 518. Doctor Strange 519. The Lego Batman Movie 520. Clue 521. The Honor Farm 522. Mr. Roosevelt 523. La Barracuda 524. The Ballad of Lefty Brown 525. Beauty and the Beast (2017) 526. Cat People 527. The Adventures of Tintin 528. The Freshman (1925) 529. The Artist 530. Day for Night 531. Stranger on the Third Floor 532. Twentieth Century 533. Modern Times 534. Alien: Covenant 535. Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul 536. Norman 537. Casablanca 538. Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie 539. Alvin & the Chipmunks: Road Chip 540. The Man Who Knew Too Much 541. Cars 3 542. The Sugarland Express 543. Redes 544. School of Rock 545. Duck Soup 546. Cat People 547. Tower 548. War for the Planet of the Apes 549. Pete’s Dragon (2016) 550. Richard Linklater: Dream Is Destiny 551. The Double Life of Veronique 552. Dunkirk 553. The Adventures of Robin Hood 554. Something Wicked This Way Comes 555. Young Frankenstein 556. Duck Soup 557. Tampopo 558. Beggars of Life 559. Tender Mercies 560. The Princess and the Frog 561. Rogue One 562. Steve Jobs 563. Despicable Me 3 564. Close Encounters of the Third Kind 565. Koyaanisqatsi 566. Honeysuckle Rose 567. Wonder Woman 568. Creed 569. North By Northwest 570. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets 571. The Nightmare Before Christmas 572. Altered States 573. Dealt 574. Star Wars: The Force Awakens 575. My Cousin Rachel (2017) 576. Get Out 577. Planet of the Apes (1968) 578. Tomorrowland 579. Justice League 580. The Disaster Artist 581. Thor: Ragnarok 582. Beneath the Planet of the Apes 583. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me 584. The Philadelphia Story 585. Escape From the Planet of the Apes 586. Ferdinand 587. Star Wars: The Last Jedi 588. Darkest Hour 589. Coco 590. Dunkirk 591. Phantom Thread 592. Paddington 2 593. Arrival 594. Spider-Man: Homecoming 595. Conquest of the Planet of the Apes 596. Our Souls at Night 597. Mudbound 598. The Post 599. Germany Year Zero 600. Trading Places 601. The Shape of Water 602. Black Panther 603. Logan 604. The Simpsons Movie 605. Wings 606. Miss Congeniality 607. Never Cry Wolf 608. Something Wicked This Way Comes 609. Pride and Prejudice (2005) 610. Moana 611. Ready Player One 612. Viva Max 613. Red River 614. Bridget Jones’s Baby 615. Avengers: Infinity War 616. The Sugarland Express 617. Selena 618. Peaceful Warrior 619. Spider-Man 2 620. Stagecoach 621. The Godfather, Part III 622. Solo: A Star Wars Story 623. Jaws 624. Peter Pan 625. The Day the Earth Stood Still 626. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs 627. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? 628. Daughters of the Dust 629. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan 630. Time Bandits 631. Incredibles 2 632. Avatar 633. On the Waterfront 634. Forks Over Knives 635. It Happened One Night 636. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl 637. Ant-Man and the Wasp 638. A Quiet Place 639. Full Metal Jacket 640. The Thin Blue Line 641. The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez 642. Teen Titans Go! To The Movies 643. The Reluctant Dragon 644. Tokyo Story 645. The Karate Kid (1984) 646. Blazing Saddles 647. The Black Cauldron

648. Back to the Future 649. 2001: A Space Odyssey 650. Blaze 651. In Old Arizona 652. Crazy Rich Asians 653. Ocean’s 8 654. Star Wars: A New Hope 655. The Tree of Life (Extended Cut) 656. First Man 657. Food, Inc. 658. Napoleon Dynamite 659. Halloween (2018) 660. Christopher Robin 661. Battle for the Planet of the Apes 662. Paris, Je t’aime 663. Breakfast at Tiffany’s 664. Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald 665. Back to the Future, Part II 666. Koyaanisqatsi 667. Creed II 668. True Stories 669. Ralph Breaks the Internet 670. Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse 671. The Last Command 672. Mary Poppins Returns 673. The Primary Instinct 674. Rise of the Planet of the Apes 675. An Inconvenient Truth 676. A Christmas Story 677. BlacKkKlansman 678. Annihilation 679. A Star Is Born (2018) 680. That’s Entertainment, Part 2 681. Close Encounters of the Third Kind 682. Teen Titans Go! To The Movies 683. Back to the Future, Part III 684. Stranger Than Paradise 685. On the Basis of Sex 686. Bohemian Rhapsody 687. The Favourite 688. First Reformed 689. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes 690. Cold War 691. They Shall Not Grow Old 692. The Iron Orchard 693. Free Solo 694. Captain Marvel 695. The Little Mermaid 696. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End 697. Wasted! The Story of Food Waste 698. Green Book 699. La Bamba 700. Running for Good 701. Us 702. War for the Planet of the Apes 703. I, Tonya 704. Avengers: Endgame 705. Amazing Grace (2019) 706. Shazam! 707. Testament 708. Vice 709. Raiders of the Lost Ark 710. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg 711. Planet of the Apes (2001) 712. Aladdin (2019) 713. The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez 714. Detour 715. The Hitch-Hiker 716. The Border 717. Toy Story 4 718. Flight 719. Do the Right Thing 720. Midnight Cowboy 721. Spider Man: Far From Home 722. Some Like It Hot 723. Strangers on a Train 724. Red Hook Summer 725. All That Heaven Allows 726. Cowspiracy 727. Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood 728. Zodiac 729. Wings of Desire 730. The Blues Brothers 731. The Farewell 732. Super Size Me 733. Safety Last! 734. Hustlers 735. Raiders of the Lost Ark 736. The Game Changers 737. Downton Abbey 738. The Body Snatcher 739. The Lion King (2019) 740. Ad Astra 741. The Terminator 742. The Irishman 743. Frozen II 744. Our Dancing Daughters 745. The Castaway Cowboy 746. The Thin Man 747. Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice 748. Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker 749. Doctor Sleep 750. A Hidden Life 751. Bombshell 752. Fed Up 753. Miracle on 34th Street 754. Brittany Runs a Marathon

#movies #decade in review

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pavspatch · 3 years ago

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Defenders at the double for Ashton

Non-league previews

JOHN LUFUDU, a player that manager Mike Clegg describes as very, very popular among the Hurst Cross faithful, has returned to ASHTON UNITED.

He's one of two defenders signed today, the other being Cole Lonsdale who has been brought in from Clitheroe. Both go straight into the squad for tomorrow (Saturday's) Pitching In NPL premier division fixture at home to Bamber Bridge.

Lufudu has rejoined Ashton from Spennymoor United as part of a loan deal that keeps him at the club until the end of the season. He signalled his delight on Twitter stating "we got unfinished work to do" with an emoji of a flexed bicep.

Yet another defender, Michael Raynes, is out of action for a month after picking up an injury in last weekend's draw at Nantwich.

The pressure continues to pile up on HYDE UNITED who are without a league win in their last seven outings — a run that has left them hovering above the drop zone having played more matches than both Nantwich and Witton.

Ed Ikpakwu is back in the squad for the difficult game at fifth-placed Scarborough after serving a one-game ban. But Krisel Prifti starts a three-match suspension for being sent off against Buxton in a late incident that led to the visitors' Tommy Elliott also being shown a red card.

Simon Haworth is more concerned about the inclement weather than the strength of his squad as STALYBRIDGE CELTIC prepare to welcome Mickleover to Bower Fold.

The Bridge manager has a fully fit squad to choose from with defender Stephen Brogan returning from a calf injury, but the heavy rain that has been forecast could cause real problems for the Bower Fold pitch.

Haworth will be keen for the game to go ahead as his team look to be running into form after a creditable draw at Morpeth and a fine win at high-flying Bamber Bridge last weekend.

In National League North, striker Dominic Knowles could be set to make his long-awaited return for in-form CURZON ASHTON after managing 75 minutes of a midweek friendly against Fleetwood Town under-23s.

The Nash, who are back on the fringes of the play-off places after winning three of their last four games, including last Saturday's 1-0 victory at Fylde, look good to extend their run tomorrow when they face struggling Telford United at the Tameside Stadium.

Telford have taken only one point from five visits to Curzon and are without an away win in the league this season. However, they have won their last two matches, scoring eight goals and conceding none.

Harry Flowers and Dale Whitham should get the chance to enhance their own Curzon comebacks. Matt Challoner remains suspended and Matt Rain and Matt Waters are still injured.

Telford's Kai Williams is ruled out by damaged ankle ligaments. Fellow midfielder Dom McHale has a stomach problem that will be assessed in the morning.

An injury crisis has forced MOSSLEY boss Dave Fish to make two loan signings ahead of the visit to NPL first division west leaders Workington.

Midfielder Andreas Bianga makes the short move from Ashton United while winger Leon Arnasalam is on a dual registration from Macclesfield.

Fish, who is understood to have as many as eight players unavailable, said: "One lad was hurt when a ball hit him in the face two minutes before the end of training and a blood vessel in his eye burst. If I didn't laugh, I'd cry."

New signing Lewis Cunningham, a defender taken on loan from National League North club York City, should feature in GLOSSOP NORTH END's home clash with Bootle.

Sam Barratt is back after suspension but Hugo Rodriguez has a stomach bug and is classed as 50/50.

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rebeccaheyman · 4 years ago

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reading + listening 09.14.20

The Smash-Up (Ali Benjamin), eBook ARC (pub date Feb 2021). A rare five-star review from me on GR and NetGalley.

For fans of ASK AGAIN YES and FLEISHMAN IS IN TROUBLE, Ali Benjamin's THE SMASH-UP is a razor-sharp but deeply heartfelt satire of our contemporary social and political systems, framed as a retelling of Wharton's classic novel, Ethan Frome. Like its original counterpart, THE SMASH-UP is a framed narrative; we begin with an introduction that asks the question that plagues the original Ethan Frome from the very start: What happened? While the answer to that question in Wharton's work is purposefully vague ("a smash-up"), Benjamin's work is driven by answers. What happened? The 2016 election. Harvey Weinstein. MeToo. Police overreach and brutality, Resistance. Bret Kavanaugh. The Women's March. On and on, all these things that happened and are happening as the country tries to remake itself in the wake of all our ugliness rising to the surface. "What happened?" THE SMASH-UP asks. "Well, sit down and I'll tell you."

We follow an unnamed narrator as they drive into Starkfield, Massachusetts, and spot Ethan Frome, who is without a limp but still "hobbled" by a flat tire. The narrator gives Ethan a ride home, and thereafter becomes a one-person Greek chorus of a kind, showing up frequently to uphold the mirror that reflects that which is under the surface of the main action. Once the close third-person narration begins, we're drawn into Ethan's life with documentary filmmaker and activist wife Zenobia (Zo); their hyperactive, Wicked-obsessed daughter, Alex; and their live-in, Millennial, would-be nanny (of a sort), Maddy. Everything is in a state of unrest, from the forever-unfinished home renovation to the country to Alex's attendance at the new-age, ultra-conscious Rainbow Seed School, to Ethan and Zo's marriage. An encounter with the local police throws Zo and her women's activist group, All Them Witches, into the spotlight, and not everyone in Starkfield is happy about it. Meanwhile, Ethan's former marketing agency partner asks him to help make a pending MeToo lawsuit disappear. In the literal and figurative background is Maddy, whose ennui is a challenge and counterpoint to the Fromes' intense attention to every detail of their fractured, fracturing lives.

THE SMASH-UP is a novel of colliding -- who these characters are, what they believe, what they do, how they feel, what they show the world and what they hide -- all of it being forced to the surface by impact after merciless impact. Everything that happens in THE SMASH-UP is just as important as what doesn't; our mysterious narrator from the introduction (whose identity I won't spoil here), says it best: "New ideas, new worlds, new truths, always begin in the negative space. Unlike the groaning heft of What Is, possibility has no mass of its own--no force, no shape or structure, not yet. To most eyes, What Could Be looks like nothing at all. It takes faith to discern this invisible thing, to protect it and tend to it, until the day it comes screaming into the open, startling everyone with the plain fact of itself, a truth that's suddenly clear as day."

The Heiress (Molly Greeley), eBook ARC (pub date Jan 2021). My NetGalley review fails to capture the way I sat on my couch and wept for the duration of the last chapter. Just sayin’.

THE HEIRESS climbs inside Pride and Prejudice the way you slip between the sheets of your own bed, made up with entirely new sheets. This brilliant, compact novel takes as its subject the enigmatic Anne de Bourgh, best known as the cousin Darcy was supposed to marry before Elizabeth Bennet stepped onto the scene. Greeley imagines Anne as an accidental -- or rather, incidental -- laudanum addict, whose treatment with that "remedy" since infancy left her frail and mostly catatonic as she aged. THE HEIRESS follows Anne on a tumultuous journey of self-discovery and becoming that begins with the end of her addiction.

Greeley's writing is deft and authentic, nodding to source material without relying on what readers think they know about Anne's life at Rosings Park. There's a touch of the gothic here, too, as Anne's connection to her land -- hers indeed, since Rosings Park is not entailed -- and the house itself, becomes a critical site of identity-production. Though Anne enjoys somewhat unprecedented independence due to her inheritance, Greeley never loses sight of the way Georgian society shaped, stymied, defined, and limited most women -- or how they flourished in private revolutions despite this.

Readers of THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO, THE LADY'S GUIDE TO CELESTIAL MECHANICS, and of course, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, will find THE HEIRESS a triumph.

Luster (Raven Leilani), aBook (narr. Ariel Blake). LUSTER is getting a lot of positive press, and with good reason. Roxane Gay’s brief GR review says it best: “So uncomfortable and stressful and beautiful and haunting and honest and ugly.” Protagonist Edie is anxious and adrift when her anchor drops somewhat of its own accord in the suburban home of her married lover, Eric. The seas there may appear calm but they churn under the surface, where marital, sexual, and racial politics threaten to capsize the appearance of domestic bliss. What ultimately saves Edie -- what keeps her afloat, if I’m really going to beat this metaphor into the ground -- is her identity as an artist, which she interrogates persistently regardless of her mercurial circumstances.

It’s natural, I think, to draw comparisons to Candice Carty-Williams’ QUEENIE, as these are both novels about young Black women drawing the curtain back on their experience of the world, and delivering the fullness of that experience with honesty of the highest, rawest order. Attempts to place one novel over the other, though, would be remiss; where Queenie’s journey ultimately leads her closer to the refuge of family, Edie’s safe haven is her art -- which is to say, the world is still coming for Edie, and her protection against can be washed away with so much turpentine.

LUSTER is touted as “darkly comic” and while it most assuredly is that, I also found it deeply heart-wrenching. I felt old reading this, and anxious, and like I wanted to sit Edie down in my kitchen and feed her a nice brisket dinner. There’s some inconsistency around Edie’s age (she’s twenty-three, but often references nostalgia-points that would place her closer to her late 20s or even early 30s), but I just kept thinking about how hard it is to be young and unsure, now more than ever.

Lady Derring Takes a Lover (Julie Anne Long), aBook (narr. Justine Eyre). This was my first Julie Anne Long novel, and I’m happy to report it was a delight! Delilah and Tristan are fun to watch together -- great chemistry, just enough internal angst to enhance tension without being cloying, and plenty of hot, consensual sex. For me, the difference between an enjoyable historical romance and a snoozer often boils down to the external conflict, and LADY DERRING has it in spades. Delilah and her dead husband’s mistress, Angelique, open a boarding house in a bad part of London, and the goings-on at The Grand Palace on the Thames provide a nice counterpoint to the romance. There’s plenty of fat for Tristan to chew, too, since someone is smuggling cigars into the country, and the king has tasked our hero with finding out precisely who, and how. As always, Justine Eyre’s narration is just this side of too much, but she shines on this recording. I’ve got the second-in-series cued up on my eReader this week, so we’ll see if Long can.... go the distance. I’ll show myself out.

Never Kiss a Duke (Megan Frampton), aBook (narr. Jilly Bond). Another new-to-me author and narrator, and the first in a new series, Hazards of Dukes. I’ll take the second part first: Jilly Bond is a delight! She gets a bit whispery at times -- appropriate times, to be sure, but it was a struggle to hear some of the asides. I also found her transitions to Sebastian’s narration/dialogue rocky at moments -- a sudden, almost comedic drop in register. Once the chapter/POV is up and running, the awkwardness instantly fades, but the transitions were strange for me. Still, she’s excellent, and I hope she narrates the next-in-series.

To the rest: Fans of Kleypas’ DEVIL IN WINTER gaming hell setting will appreciate the external conflict around Ivy and Sebastian (yes those names are oddly similar to DEVIL’s Evie and Sebastian...a tribute perhaps?!). She is the proprietress of London’s only egalitarian gambling house, and he is her newest employee after having -- oops! -- lost his dukedom. Conflict isn’t as dynamic as I would have hoped, but this was an entertaining listen nonetheless. Hot heat, tumultuous personal histories, quality banter... I’ll be back for the second installment (Tall Duke and Dangerous, Oct 2020).

#the smash up #luster #never kiss a duke #lady derring takes a lover #the heiress #book review #amreading #netgalley

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twdoceana-blog · 8 years ago

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I know there’s a lot of people that probably read way more than I do on here and I have so many books for my Kindle so I just wanted to share a list of all the books I have. These are just in the order of the most recent on my Kindle so I apologise if you were looking for it in alphabetical order. Rest of list will be under the cut just because there’s so many books. 400+ books. Oopsies~

A Game Of Thrones by George R. R. Martin

Sweetness (Bold As Love Book 1) by Lindsay Paige

50 Philosophy Ideas You Really Need To Know by Ben Dupré

50 Political Ideas You Really Need To Know by Ben Dupré

50 Psychology Ideas You Really Need To Know by Adrian Furnham

Answers for Aristotle: How Science and Philosophy Can Lead Us to A More Meaningful Life by Massimo Pigliucci

Cosmos by Carl Sagan

Crimes Against Humanity by Adam Jones

The Casual Vacancy by J. K. Rowling

The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeannette Walls

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

The Satanic Verses: A Novel by Salman Rushdie

A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks

1776 by David McCullough

Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer

End the Fed by Ron Paul

The Giver by Lois Lowry

The Host by Stephenie Meyer

John Adams by David McCullough

Killing Kennedy by Bill O’Reilly

Killing Lincoln by Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard

The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch and Jeffrey Zaslow

Liberty Defined: 50 Essential Issues That Affect Our Freedom by Ron Paul

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer

The Revolution: A Manifesto by Ron Paul

The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella by Stephenie Meyer

To Kill a Mockingbird by Lee Harper

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

Colorado Kid by Stephen King

From a Buick 8 by Stephen King

Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King

Gerald’s Game by Stephen King

Hearts In Atlantis by Stephen King

Insomnia by Stephen King

It by Stephen King

Just After Sunset by Stephen King

Lisey’s Story by Stephen King

Misery by Stephen King

Night Shift by Stephen King

Nightmares and Dreamscapes by Stephen King

Pet Sematary by Stephen King

Rage by Stephen King

Roadwork by Stephen King

Rose Madder by Stephen King

Salem’s Lot by Stephen King

Skeleton Crew by Stephen King

11/22/63: A Novel by Stephen King

Bag of Bones by Stephen King

Black House by Stephen King

Carrie by Stephen King

Cell by Stephen King

Christine by Stephen King

Cujo by Stephen King

Cycle of the Werewolf by Stephen King

Desperation by Stephen King

Different Seasons by Stephen King

Dolores Claiborne by Stephen King

Dreamcatcher by Stephen King

Duma Key by Stephen King

Everything’s Eventual by Stephen King

Firestarter by Stephen King

Four Past Midnight by Stephen King

Thinner by Stephen King

The Tommyknockers by Stephen King

Under the Dome: A Novel by Stephen King

UR by Stephen King

The Dark Half by Stephen King

The Dark Tower by Stephen King

The Dead Zone by Stephen King

The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

The Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King

The Green Mile by Stephen King

The Gunslinger by Stephen King

The Long Walk by Stephen King

One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey

The Regulators by Stephen King

The Running Man by Stephen King

The Shining by Stephen King

Song of Susannah by Stephen King

The Stand by Stephen King

The Talisman by Stephen King

The Waste Lands by Stephen King

The Wind Through the Keyhole by Stephen King

Wizard and Glass by Stephen King

Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King

Area 51 by Annie Jacobsen

The Fall of the Roman Empire: A New History by Peter Heather

Fifty Shades Darker by E L James

Fifty Shades Freed by E L James

Fifty Shades of Grey by E L James

The Grand Design by Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Les Misérables by Victor hugo

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking

The Civil War, a Narrative: Fort Sumpter to Perryville by Shelby Foote

The Civil War, a Narrative: Fredericksburg to Meridian by Shelby Foote

The Civil War, a Narrative: Red River to Appomattox by Shelby Foote

Club Dead by Charlaine Harris

Dead in the Family by Charlaine Harris

Dead Reckoning by Charlaine Harris

Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris

Deadlocked: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel by Charlaine Harris

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Hannibal by Thomas Harris

Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris

Looking for Alaska by John Green

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Tinkers by Paul Harding

The Princess Bride by William Golding

Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

Red: My Uncensored Life in Rock by Sammy Hagar

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan

Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll

Cash: The Autobiography by Johnny Cash

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl

The Coming of the Third Reich by Richard J. Evans

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

Last Words by George Carlin and Tony Hendra

Napalm and Silly Putty by George Carlin

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave by Frederick Douglass

The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection by Charles Darwin

The Third Reich at War by Richard J. Evans

The Third Reich in Power by Richard J. Evans

An Unfinished Life: John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 by Robert Dallek

Washington by Ron Chernow

When will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops by George Carlin

Brain Droppings by George Carlin

The Horse and His Boy by C. S. Lewis

Last Battle by C. S. Lewis

The Magician’s Nephew by C. S. Lewis

All Together Dad by Charlaine Harris

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris

Dead as a Doornail by Charlaine Harris

Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris

Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis

The Man Who Broke Into Auschwitz by Denis Avey

Prince Caspian by C. S. Lewis

The Silver Chair by C. S. Lewis

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks

The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead by Max Brooks

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams

Life, the Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams

Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler

Awash with Summer Roses by Kestra Pingree

Black Widow: A Tense Thriller by Raven Creed

The Infiniti Investigates: Hattie Jenkins and The Infiniti Chronicles Books 1 to 5 by Pearl Goodfellow

Flesh and Bone: A Sweet Inspirational Romance (A Guitar Girl Romance Book 2) by Hope Franke Strauss

Beneath These Stars (Lucy Mitchell Book 2) by Hannah Ellis

I Laugh While You Cry: How to Train Yourself to Overcome the Impossible, Chase Down Your Dreams, and Become a Real-Life Superhero by Cruze Weston

Olivia, Mourning (The Olivia Series Book 1) by Yael Politis

A Life Worth the Fleeting Suns by Leon Huet

Hitler Here by George Thomas Clark

Worth the Wait by Rachel Tonks

Dragon Cursed by Mia Hall

Girl With No Fingerprints by Mark Bailey

Conceit (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 1) by Alana Albertson

Touched By Time (Time Travel/Mail-Order Brides Romance, Book 1) by Zoe Matthews

Damn the Diets: How to Recover from Restrictive Diets, Dogmas, Eating Disorders and Body Degrading by Kayla Rose Kotecki

Lost Girls by Celina Grace

Inconvenient Murder: An Inept Witches Mystery by Amanda A. Allen

Letting Go: A Contemporary Romantic Thriller by Anthony Awtrey

Jammed (A Charlie Cooper Mystery, Volume 1) by Deany Ray

Captive (The Submerged Sun Series Book 1) by Vanessa Garden

Bone And Cinder: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Zapheads Book 1) by Scott Nicholson

Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series Book 1) by Pamela Ann

Don’t Call Me Kit Kat by K. J. Farnham

The Minimalist Mind: The 21 Mental Makeover to Stop Worry, Improve Mood, Focus Better and Master Your Emotions with Ease by David Winter

Dream Job (The Dreamwalker Chronicles Book 1) by Gregory Pettit

A Faries’ Tale: In Love There’s War: Would You Destroy Everything to Protect the Love of Your Life? by Rebecca Torrellas

Beyond The Lens (Lucy Mitchell Book 1) by Hannah Ellis

Trophies (Emma Kane/Jacob Thorne Book 2) by Todd Travis

Hot Husband (Hot Guys Book 1) by Starla Cole

Beyond (Beyond Series Book 1) by Maureen A. Miller

Of No Value: A Vietnam War Era Memoir bu Derrick Wolf

An Uncommon Sense (Sensual Healing Book 1) by Serenity Woods

Grounded (The Grounded Trilogy Book 1) by G. P. Ching

The Light of the Fireflies by Paul Pen

Necromantia Vol. 1-3 (Three Book Set) by Matthew Buza

Monday (Timeless Series #1) by E. L. Todd

Absolute Knowledge by Drew Cardell

The Marriage Will Not Take Place by Marguerite Steen

Rune Scale (Dragon Speaker Series Book 1) by Devin Hanson

Start Again: A Novel (Start Again Series #1) by J. Saman

Daisy Darling Meets A Man by Lindy Dale

Sentence of Marriage (Promises to Keep Book 1) by Shayne Parkinson

Dragonfriend by Marc Secchia

The Roommate (A New Adult Novel) by Shae Buggs

Mine to Take (Mine- Romantic Suspense Book 1) by Cynthia Edan

Devil in the Countryside by Cory Barclay

A Million More Tomorrows by A.R. Goodheart

Contract: Snatch (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 1) by Ty Hutchinson

1000 Yards - A John Milton Short Story (John Milton Series) by Mark Dawson

Army Investigations: A 5-Books Army Romance Series by Lola Silverman

The Serial Killer Books: 15 Famous Serial Killers True Crime Stories That Shocked The World (The Serial Killer Files) by Jack Rosewood

By Your Side: A Journey of Two Sisters Through Love and Sacrifice by Misty Proffitt-Thompson

Fractured Eden by Steven Gossington

The Power of Productivity: How to do More in Less Time by Leonardo D. M.

The Money Switch: How to Escape the 9-5. Aquire Financial Freedom and Generate Passive Income for Life by Lee Stan

The Hunger House by Conor Mcguire

Shy Girls Write It Better (Some Girls Do It Book 1) by May Sage

Justice Buried (Starbright Series Book 1) by Hilary Thompson

Haunted (The Haunted Love Trilogy Book 1) by Ann-Marie King

After the Cure by Deirdre Gould

Multiple-Victims Murder by Arnon Edelstein

The Notice (Storms of Transformation Series Book 2) by Daniella Bova

Body by You: The You Are Your Own Gym Guide to Total Women’s Fitness by Mark Lauren and Joshua Clark

Retrieval (The Retrieval Duet Book 1) by Aly Martinez

The Purple Rock (The Reverend P J. MacFarlane Series Book 1) by Angus MacVicar

Nightsong: A Neanderthal Mystery by M.J. Rhodes

Broken Leaves of Autumn by Eli Hai

The Raven (The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic Book 1) by Aderyn Wood

Bells Above Greens by David Xavier

Jeffery Dahmer: A Terrifying True Story of Rape, Murder, & Cannibalism (The Serial Killers Books Book 1) by Jack Rosewood

Sinful Cinderella (Dark Fairy Tale Queen Series Book 1) by Anita Valle

The Resistance is Dead: Book One: The Outbreak by Kevin Mooseles

The Mules of Borgo San Marco by W. H. Canaway

The Post-Apocalyptic Reader’s Guide: The Ultimate Stockpile of Post-Apocalyptic and Dystopian Books, Movies, Television, Games & More by J. Thorn

Accidentally Married to the Billionaire - Part 1 (The Billionaire’s Touch) by Sierra Rose

Sam’s Song: A Sam Smith Mystery (The Sam Smith Mystery Series Book 1) by Hannah Howe

Schooled (Travesty Book 1) by Piper Lawson

The Dog That Laid Eggs: Every Monster Comes From Somewhere by Jonathan Maas

Break Your Busy - Set Your Creativity Free by Richard Conner

Heir of Illaria: Book One of the Illaria Series by Dyan Chick

Emerge by Heather Sunseri

Rite of Rejection (Acceptance Book 1) by Sarah Negovetich

Hammers of Time: Wood Cow Chronicles: Backlands by Rick Johnson

Neanderthal Seeks Human (Knitting in the City Book 1) by Penny Reid

Escorted by Claire Kent

Edwin Brook: Dire Recompense by Daeus Lamb

Less Than Human by Allen Long

The Magic Mines of Asharim by Pauline M. Ross

Fearless Author: Prepare, Publish and Launch Your Own eBook by Ashley Emma

Soul Watch by Ember T.

Decimation: The Girl Who Survived by Richard T. Burke

Slenderman (Emma Frost Book 9) by Willow Rose

Sex, Lies & Sweet Tea (Sex and Lies Book 1) by Kris Calvert

The Ceiling Man by Patricia Lillie

The Dead of Summer by Heather Balog

Living Well, Spending Less!: 12 Secrets of the Good Life by Ruth Soukup

Rite To Silence: London Calling Private Investigator Crime Thriller Series Book 1 by Solomon Carter

Fade (Paxton Locke Book 1) by Daniel Humphreys

Red Rover, Perdition Games by L.E. Fraser

The Sun and the Moon (Giving You ... Book 1) by Leslie McAdam

Sirtfood Diet: A Beginners Guide & Recipe Book on Sirtfoods & Their Amazing Benefits by Faye Froome

Daughter of Heaven: The True Story of the Only Woman to Become Emperor of China by Nigel Cawthorne

After Days: Affliction (The After Days Trilogy Book 1) by Scott Medbury

The Last City of America by Matthew Tysz

A Secret Kiss (Falling For Sakura #1) (The Princeton Brothers) by Alexia Praks

Like Soul Series (Books 1-4) by Val Conrad

The R.E.M. Effect by J.M. Lanham

A Totally ‘80s Romance (Boxed Set Books 1-3) by Addison Moore

The Weight of Happiness: On Food, Body, and Spirit by Ayelet Kalter

The Abducted Odessa Omnibus by Roger Hayden

The Children of Wisdom Trilogy by Stephanie Erickson

The Dreamer’s Lotus: The Sacred Symbol (The Lucidity Series Book 1) by Mike Dickerson

Crossroads (Crossroads Saga Book 1) by Mary Ting

Surviving Valencia by Holly Tierney-Bedord

The Colur of Death by Frances Lloyd

Blackthorn (Taurian Empire) by Nate Johnson

Lullaby of the Dead: Every Ghost Has a Story (Opus of the Dead Book 1) by Lynn Lamb

Follow the Shadows by Jocelyn Carew

Magic of Thieves (Legends of Dimmingwood Book 1) by C. Greenwood

Enter the Uncreated Night by Christopher Rankin

The Elven by Bernhard Hennen

Crow Hollow by Michael Wallace

The Evolution Trigger (Evoulution Trigger Trilogy Book 1) by C.S. Won

Ghost of A Girl: A Thriller! by Theo Cage

Blood Eagle: A Riveting Historical Thriller by Julia Derek

Sanity’s Thief: An Eric Beckman Paranormal Thriller (Eric Beckman Series Book 2) by Al Macy

Effortless Writing: The Simple Way to Write and Guarantee Remarkable Results by Kerry Miller

Conquer Your Dreams: A Sailor’s Dairy That’ll Propel Your Dreams to Reality! by Jagadhees Thirumoorthy

The Dead and the Missing (Adam Park Thriller Book 1) by A. D. Davies

Until There Was You (Starlight Hill Series Book 3) by Heatherly Bell

The Marriage Lie: A Bestselling Psychological Thriller by Kimberly Belle

Eversea (The Butler Cove Series Book 1) by Natasha Boyd

Today Will Be Different by Maria Semple

Out of Practice Aphrodite (The Goddess Chronicles Book 1) by S.E. Babin

Hum A Radiant Sickness by Patrick Bryant

Underneath - A Merfolk Tale (The Under Series Book 1) by M.N. Arzu

Burned by the Soul (Struck from the Heaves Book 1) by William Stadler

The Eyes of Abel by Daniel Jacobs

The Elephant in the Room: A Journey into the Trump Campaign and the “Alt-Right” by Jon Ronson

The Substitute: The Wedding Pact #1 by Denise Grover Swank

Davenport House by Marie Silk

Butterfly Islands (Chronicles of the Twenty-One Butterflies Book 1) by Chris Seabranch

Kiss Me Again by Kimberley James

The Sitter by Sharon Hawes

Crane (Legends Saga Book 1) by Stacey Rourke

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J. K. Rowling

The Girl Who Stole a Planet (Amy Armstrong Book 1) by Stephen Colegrove

A Rhapsody of Dreams by Tami Egonu

Beautiful Lies by Heather Bentley

Dance: Cinderella Retold (Romance a Medieval Fairytale Series Book 3) by Demelza Carlton

Love, Alchemy by Eden Ashley

The Thousand Year Curse (A Curse Books Book 1) by Taylor Lavati

Damaged by Timothy W. Long and Time Marquitz

Kindred by Octavia Butler

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

The Diary of a Young Girl Anne Frank by Anne Frank

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Two Towers by J. R. R. Tolkien

Extracted (Extracted Trilogy Book 1) by RR Haywood

A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin

A Dance with Dragons by George R. R. Martin

A Feast for Crows by George R. R. Martin

A Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin

Z-Minus: The Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 1) by Perrin Briar

Her Dear and Loving Husband (The Loving Husband Trilogy Book 1) by Meredith Allard

The Alpha Plague: A Post-Apocalyptic Action Thriller by Michael Robertson

The Snow and the Darkness by Matthew Warren Wilson

In The Dark by Pamela Burford

The Abducted: Odessa - A Small Town Abduction - Book 0 by Roger Hayden

Our Cosmic Story: Exploring Life, Civilization, and the Universe by Mathew Anderson

Dragon Trials (Return of the Darkening Book 1) by Ava Richardson

A Beautiful Mess by T.K. Leigh

Imperfect Chemistry (Imperfect Series Book 1) by Mary Frame

The Way We Fall (The Story of Us Book 1) by Cassia Leo

Unraveling You by Jessica Sorensen

Bound by a Dragon (The Dragon Archives Book 1) by Linda K. Hopkins

Gothic Tales by Elizabeth Gaskell

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux

Wicca Candle Spells: The Complete Wiccan Candle Spell Handbook by Karen Bonderud

The Destroyer by Michael-Scott Earle

Wicca Earth Magic: Connect with All Living Things on Earth, and Learn How to Live in Balance with Nature by Karen Bonderud

Recycling Humanity by Heather Lee Dyer

The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Wisehouse Classics Edition) by Marcus Aurelius

The Fallen Star by Jessica Sorensen

And Then She Flew by Jen Labesky

Sacred Bloodlines (The Sacred Guardians Book 1) by Wendy L Owens

The Ghost Files by Apryl Baker

Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes (Rose Gardner Mystery, Book 1) by Denise Grover Swank

Nikola Tesla: Imagination and the Man That Invented the 20th Century by Sean Patrick

UnEnchanted (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale Book 1) by Chanda Hahn

Silence by Natasha Preston

Pretty Hexed: Cozy Witch Mystery (Witches of Winterfield Book 1) by Sara Bourgeois

The Ultimate Sherlock Holmes Collection by Arthur Conan Doyle

Cora and the Nurse Dragon by H. L. Burke

Sun & Moon: An Inspirational Contemporary Romance ( A Guitar Girl Romance Book 1) by Hope Franke

Star Crossed by Katalina Leon

Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Collection by Arthur Conan Doyle

All I Want is You (Forever and Ever Book 1) by E. L. Todd

Frotwoot’s Faerie Tales (Book One: The Unseelie Court) Part 1 of 6 by Charlie Ward

Blood of Requiem (Song of Dragons Book 1) by Daniel Arenson

Dragon’s Curse (The Dragon and the Scholar Book 1) by H. L. Burke

Firebolt (The Dragonian Series Book 1) by Adrienne Woods

The Chronicles of Dragon: The Hero, The Sword, and The Dragons (Book 1 of 10) by Craig Halloran

Rise of the Dragons (Kings and Sorcerers-- Book 1) by Morgan Rice

The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks

In the Shadow of Lakecrest by Elizabeth Blackwell

The Original Dream by Nukila Amal

Made You Up by Francesca Zappia

While You Were Mine by Ann Howard Creel

The Protector: A Sexy, Angsty, All-the-Feels Romance with a Hot Alpha Hero by Jodi Ellen Malpas

Illidan: World of Warcraft by William King

The Phoenix Descent by Chuck Grossart

The Last Dragonslayer: The Chronicles of Kazam. Book 1 by Jasper Fforde

Of Noble Birth by Brenda Novak

Stealer of Flesh (Kormak Book One) (The Kormak Saga 1) by William King

A Shade of Vampire (New & Lengthened 2015 Edition) by Bella Forrest

Genesis (Extinction Point Series Book 4) by Paul Antony Jones

Extinction Point (Extinction Point Series Book 1) by Paul Antony Jones

Exodus (Extinction Point Series Book 2) by Paul Antony Jones

Revelations (Extinction Point Series Book 3) by Paul Antony Jones

Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2) by James Maxwell

Spearwielder’s Tale: The Dragon’s Dagger by R.A. Salvatore

Spearwielder’s Tale: The Haggis Hunters by R.A. Salvatore

The Lord of Discipline: A Novel by Pat Conroy

Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) by James Maxwell

Welcome to Night Vale: A Novel by Joseph Fink

To Find a Mountain by Dan Ames

The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J. K. Rowling

The Deep by Nick Cutter

Binge by Tyler Oakley

Spearwielder’s Tale: The Woods Out Back by R.A. Salvatore

The Food Of Love by Amanda Prowse

Witches of Lychford by Paul Cornell

The Gingerbread House by James Richard

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling

The Shuddering by Ania Ahlborn

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Parts One and Two by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling

Fatal Hearts by Norah Wilson

Victim: An Extreme Horror Novel by Sam West

Paranormal Intruder: The Terrifying True Story of a Family in Fear by Caroline Mitchell

Fire Angel by Susanne Matthews

Maggie’s Mistake by Carolyn Brown

The Book of Kells by R. A. MacAvoy

Wake in Winter by Nadezhda Belenkaya

The Forgetting Time: A Novel by Sharon Guskin

I’m Yours (Bold As Love Book 2) by Lindsay Paige

Whatever It Takes (Bold As Love Book 3) by Lindsay Paige

Always (Bold As Love Book 4) by Lindsay Paige

Our Happily Ever After (Bold As Love Book 5) by Lindsay Paige

#books #kindle #lots #list #library #amazon kindle #kindle library #proud #stephen king #j k rowling #stephenie meyer #harry potter

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