#i am grateful for having gone through that because being that heartbroken really has me seeing things clearly

[forestslut]

ooooog

[via-l0ve]

hi guys. haven’t been here in a long time but i thought id hop on to say how im currently feeling.

i’m not sure if everyone knows but one been a fav of One Direction for years. i was too young to really get into 1D when it was first formed, but my cousin was around the age of their most popular fan base age and she showed me their music and i fell in love in a young age. i only really knew harry.

as i got older i remember cleaning my room and putting on some music on youtube on my tv. the Story Of My Life music video came on and i remember watching Louis walk around singing his solo and falling in love. this was before i was on instagram and before tiktok was around so i did deep dives on pinterest (yes, pinterest) about 1D. I discovered how Louis liked girls who ate carrots, Liam’s fear of spoons, Harry’s love for cats, Zayn’s iconic ‘vas happenin?’, simon, Larry Stylinson, Lilo, niall’s love for Nandos, how insane the fanbase is/was, etc. i loved every single band member so much.

as i got older my obsession never really stopped. i dedicated a separate playlist to 1D songs and had all of their songs in my normal playlist. I was always a Louis girl but i loved them all. their music helped me through the darkest times in my life. my grandpa and uncles passing, my depression, the periods in my life where i thought i wouldn’t recover. i knew i could always turn on my spotify and the first playlist would be one direction songs.

waking up this morning happy and ending the day sobbing in bed because we lost Liam Payne has effected me in ways i can’t put into words. my heart goes out to his family and his son. taken away at 31 is so sad and i am honestly in shock. i’m sorry if my typing dosent make sense as im still shaking and crying as i write this.

i’ve never been so effected by anyone’s death before and i am so grateful to have lived in a world with Liam Payne as a human being and artist. i’m constantly crying and shaking. i found out about his passing at work and had to hold it together until i got in the car and started sobbing. i can’t believe that this is real. i don’t know how much longer ill be gone but im just so incredibly heartbroken and i can’t really think about it without losing my mind a little bit.

rest in peace to the legend Liam Payne. fly high always.

[astrabear]

Sorry y'all, I'm having a day. This one goes behind a cut because it's actual for real MCD, not just possible or anticipated or impending MCD.

Life on Earth is as risk-free as they could possibly imagine. It isn’t like when Andy was mortal and they worried over her constantly. Medical science can address nearly all the ills flesh is heir to, and the vast majority of people die peacefully of advanced age. But accidents can still occur.

You might, for example, find yourself heading to the moon, on your way to a museum exhibit that the love of your life isn’t interested in, when a freak solar flare interacts in all the wrong ways with an otherwise harmless design flaw in the shuttle. There will be inquests and lawsuits and investigations, but it’s really no one’s fault. Sometimes things just happen. If it’s your time, it’s your time. And you would tell them that, if you and the other passengers weren’t spread out over several hectares of the lunar surface.

******* Joe isn’t sure how much time he loses to pure shock. A day, he thinks, no more. He spends another day agonizing over how to tell the others, until he finally takes the easy way out and sends a message by text rather than live call. (He doesn’t have the heart to face them. He doesn’t have a heart at all.) “There’s been an accident,” is all he says. “Come get me.” By the time they arrive, as fast as they can from the Jovian moons but still not fast enough, the details will have made it to the news services and he won’t need to explain.

He packs up the few things he’ll want with him; everything else can be sold with the house. There’s no body to make arrangements for, and he’s grateful and relieved. He has seen Nicky dead in all the ways a body can die, bloody and broken but never without hope, never without eventually gasping back to life. He can’t think of anything he wants to see less than a body that looks like Nicky that will never be Nicky again.

******* Nile sits with him on the balcony and they watch the stars’ reflection on the water. The moon isn’t visible tonight, which is just as well. This is the last time he’ll look upon the Mediterranean – once he leaves, he isn’t ever coming back. The silence is sad but comfortable; she learned that from Nicky, how to be calm and warm and present without saying anything.

At last he sighs and says, “I wish I could be angry.”

“You’re not?” Her voice is thick and raspy. “I am.”

“We had thousands of years together. Thousands of good years. And I’m supposed to say… what? That it isn’t fair? We got so much more than was fair. I can’t be mad about that.”

“You wanted to grow old together.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pulling gently at the grey at his temples. “If my life had gone as my parents hoped, I’d have been a grandfather by this age. We’re old enough.”

Her voice rises in indignation: “You were supposed to go together.”

He shrugs. “What’s 40 or 50 years, compared to the time we’ve lived? Just a rounding error. He hasn’t left me behind, he’s just… he’s just getting us good seats. Getting up early to start making coffee, so it’s ready when I get there. Same as always.”

A whisper, this time, on the verge of tears. “You didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Oh, Nile.” He laughs, and while there’s sadness in it, it’s a real laugh. “What would I have said, if I’d known it was the last time? That I loved him? I told him every day.” He turns to her and takes her hand. “And he knew you loved him too. In the whole history of the human race, there has only ever been one man more loved, and more sure of being loved, than Nicolo di Genova.”

She squeezes his hand and wipes her eyes with her other wrist. “And that’s you?”

“That’s me.” He releases her, but only to pull her tight against his side. “It’s all right, Nile. I hate it, and I’m heartbroken, and I always will be, but. It’s all right. I’ll be all right.”

[potatopossums]

i think one of the worst feelings I've had is liking someone a lot (whether romantically or otherwise) and feeling unable to talk about it because I'm arospec. and then worse, when I've gone through any sort of breakup or falling out, it feels even less accessible to talk about.

it's not because any part of this community has personally or specifically targeted me, but there are plenty of times during the last month where i did not feel "aro enough" given my feelings about another person. do i think those feelings were romantic? sometimes i default to yes, and then when i think about it more, it still doesn't really fit exactly. sometimes it still feels more like a companionship gone sideways. sometimes I'm not even sure.

but what i do know is that I'm feeling pain over it all. still. and that sucks so much. to not have words for it, to not understand it, to feel as though talking about it makes me less aro — even though i still don't really categorize the experience as fully romantic, i still feel as though someone else will step in and call it romantic and that will be it and I'll just lose all of my say-so on my own experience and my own life. the only comforting thing about anyone calling it romantic is that it somehow allows me, in their eyes anyway, to care as much as i did about this person. it's the only way other people have been able to be on remotely the same wavelength as me, or allowed me to mourn, or listen to me cry about it, which I'm grateful for. but the whole experience has been confusing for me.

i wondered, am i demiromantic? and maybe i am, but it also just doesn't feel right. romantic just isn't w word that i identify with. i don't feel romantic. i feel intimate, i feel gentle and caring, i feel slow to trust, i feel sensitive. romantic isn't really those things to me. to me, romance is a strange facade above what could be a lovely friendship. i didn't do these things or feel these things because i felt romantic with this person. i felt feelings and did things because i enjoyed doing them, i enjoyed feeling physically close with another person. i felt safe.

losing that has been the hardest thing. certainly i feel safe in other aspects of my life, but this rocked me a lot. not being able to talk to her about it has hurt a lot too. I've felt like I'm sat here waiting on her. i don't have the energy to pursue anymore conversation; I've already tried as well as i could. I'm tired and feeling broken. i still don't understand what happened, and i do feel heartbroken. i don't understand how someone can say "i don't see you in my life" and still want to be my friend. aren't friends a part of each other's lives? that doesn't make sense to me. that has hurt me a lot too. i have no idea where her boundaries are anymore, and the only thing i know is that I'm hurting and not feeling as safe or as comfortable as i once did, and that really sucks.

[miraculousares]

Because I doubt the writers are going to feed us the interaction immediately after The Thing™, here I am. GANG OF SECRETS SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED S4 YET, DO NOT READ ON

Marinette clutched the sides of her head as if she might explode if she didn't hold everything together. "You're right, I have secrets and I lie all the time! I lie to my parents, to my friends. To everyone..." She felt her best friend sit beside her on the chair but she was so caught up in her feelings that she couldn't process it. "And the worst part about it is that I can't do anything about it!" She buried her face in her hands, fighting back another bought of sobs.

"We always have the choice, Marinette." Alya spoke softly and carefully putting her arms around the girl. In the back of her head, Marinette was sure that she could feel her shaking but at this point, she didn't care. She was overwhelmed. She was heartbroken. She was stressed. She was terrified.

"No." She looked up and met her friend's eyes and saw a look of sympathy. "At least not for me. I've got no other choice. It's all beyond us, Alya, and it's too heavy to carry." She wiped a tear from her face.

"If it's too heavy, then we'll be two to carry it," the girl whispered comfortingly. With this, Marinette let out a long breath. She knew what the right decision was to the discourse she'd been having in her own head all day. That didn't stop her fear from taking control, though.

"If I tell you, things between us will never be the same. It's going to destroy everything, change it all."

"Marinette, whatever you'll say, I'm your friend." Marinette could hear how desperately her friend wanted to know. But it wasn't out of curiosity or pushiness. It was to take the burden of her secret from her. To help her carry it.

"And me..." She searched her friend's eyes, gaining the confidence and reassurance she needed from the loving stare of her best friend. "I'm Ladybug." Time seemed to move in slow motion. For a moment, she wondered if Bunnix had done it, showing up to keep her from telling Alya. But instead, time resumed as the redhead's expression quickly changed from shock and confusion to one of understanding before pulling her into a tight hug. She paused for a moment before wrapping her own arms around her friend and let herself sob silently into her shoulder.

If she was being honest, Marinette had thought of a thousand different scenarios as to how Alya might react. The majority of them were filled with neverending questions from the Ladybug-Superfan. A select few ended with Alya storming out and never speaking to her. One even included her selling her out to Shadowmoth, though she shut that one down quickly. However, she hadn't let herself imagine Alya comforting her immediately. Marinette was grateful to her friend for that. She didn't ask her to prove it, ask her a million questions, or even speak. She just hugged her because she trusted her. Alya had complete faith in her.

After a few minutes of letting out the weeks' worth of sorrow and pressure out into her friend's flannel-clad shoulder, she eventually pulled away and searched Alya's eyes. She seemed to be processing the information, but sympathy and understanding still took over her face. Seeing that expression, all worries and stress washed away in a wave of overwhelming relief. It felt amazing to have finally told someone and she knew she had made the right choice. She let out another breath and a smile forced itself onto her face. It felt foreign on her face now, rarely having worn one since becoming the gaurdian, but it felt at home. She wiped her cheeks and laughed. Nothing was amusing, she was just so happy that it escaped her lips automatically.

"Okay, I'm okay. You can react now," she announced. Though Alya was doing an amazing job at just being understanding, she could tell that her best friend was bursting with questions. Alya seemed to scan over her one last time to check for any remaining need of comfort before letting her face turn to an expression of shock.

She sat silent for a moment as if trying to organize her thoughts before breathing out, "You've beta-read so much of my LadyNoir fanfiction..." Marinette couldn't help the loud laugh. She clapped her hand over her mouth but Alya just joined in the laughter. They sat there letting out all of their relief and joy and connection through that shared laugh until their stomachs hurt. Eventually, they were able to get their breath back and Alya seemed to be more collected in her processing.

"Okay, actually though, that's insane. Ladybug has been my best friend this whole time and I had no clue. And all the pressure you've been under this whole time. I mean hell, Marinette! Paris' safety- No. The world's safety has been sitting on your and Chat Noir's shoulders for two years and you're only 16! I can't even imagine it! I mean, I guess I can to an extent because, ya know, Rena Rogue. But that's more of a part-time gig and it's not like everyone's relying super heavily on me. And now I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad you trusted me with this and I'm so sorry I haven't been able to support you the way you've been needing. But I'm here now." She inhaled, clearly having forgotten to breathe during her ramble, and pulled Marinette into one more hug. "Can I ask questions?" She asked after they pulled apart again.

Marinette smiled. "Of course, Als."

"Okay. God, where do I even start? Do you know who Chat Noir is?"

"No. It's too dangerous for us to know each other's identities. Shadowmoth needs both of our miraculous and if we knew each other's identities, that would make it that much easier for him to get them," Marinette explained. It felt amazing to finally be talking about this with someone. Of course, she always had Tikki and now the other kwamis, but she needed the support of another person. She needed the support of her best friend.

"So he doesn't know who you are either?" Marinette shook her head and Alya nodded. "How did you even get your miraculous? I mean it's not like there was a Ladybug to hand it to you like I got mine."

"The last guardian, Master Fu, gave them to us. I don't know what happened with Chat Noir but I imagine that it was similar to why he gave me mine. I saved him from getting hit by a car in a crosswalk and showed him kindness. He told me later that he could see the 'heroic qualities' in me." She used her fingers to make air quotes around the words.

"That's incredible!" She paused for a moment, eyebrows raised in thought. "Oh my god, so many things make so much sense now."

"RIGHT?!" Marinette exclaimed.

"That's why you're always late! And why you're always so tired! And why you just dash out of class in the middle of the day!"

"EXACTLY!" Marinette practically shouted, relieved to finally be understood.

"Oh,

man... Everything's clicking in place, wow." Marinette could almost see the equations floating in front of Alya's face.

"Wait, sorry if this is out of line but... Is LadyNoir canon?"

"WHAT! No! Not in a million years!"

"Then what is this?" Alya whipped out her phone and showed Marinette her home screen. It was the picture that had been haunting the girl since it was taken. She wished it would disappear but it was constantly resurfacing on the internet and on tabloid covers. The photo of her and Chat Noir kissing on the rooftop after battling Oblivio.

"I have no idea what that was," she admitted. "I have no memory of even defeating Oblivio, let alone kissing that mangy cat."

"I mean, I know you're going through a lot right now and have sworn off romance for the time being but... Could it ever happen?"

Marinette opened her mouth to respond but all that came out was a sigh. "No," was all she said.

"Why not?"

"I..." Tears formed in her eyes and Alya immediately pulled her into a hug.

"Oh my god, Marinette. I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"No, no. I just... I haven't really let myself think about it since it happened. But, I guess I can finally talk about it, huh?"

"You can tell me anything, you know that."

And so, Marinette told Alya about what happened with Chat Blanc. She explained how their love destroyed the world. She explained how her own irresponsibility with her miraculous had destroyed the world. The whole event had honestly been very traumatic to Marinette and weighed heavily on her heart. Since that, she'd been even more closed off about her secret, especially to her partner. She hadn't let herself think about it if she could help it, but it still haunted her in her nightmares.

As she finished the story, Alya tightened her arms around her. "Marinette, I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that. You've been put through so much and you've been holding on to so much pressure and it's not fair. Mari, when I tell you this, I want you to believe me. You are the strongest person I know. You've gone through more than anyone should have to go through in a lifetime. Yet, you still manage to find a way to always be there for your friends and your family. You're out all night fighting for your life and for the world and then you come to school and you're there for everyone else. You are so, so strong. You're amazing and not just because you're Ladybug, but because you're Marinette."  Marinette couldn't hold back the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she hugged her best friend. Any regrets or doubts she worried she might have about telling Alya were gone. She knew she had made the right choice.

The girls spent the rest of the night talking about this, a mix of laughing and crying until they eventually fell asleep there on Marinette's couch, tired from the whirlwind of emotions. "Thank you, Alya, for being here for me," Marinette whispered as Alya's breathing steadied. Then, she closed her eyes and fell asleep herself. For the first time in weeks, her dreams were light and hopeful.

[techno-woman]

WELCOME TO THE FRIEZA FORCE, MY DEAR

(FRIEZA X READER)

::The following story takes place after DragonBall Fighterz villains arc. I do not own any DBZ characters. Enjoy the story!::

It has been over a month since you had returned to your own body after Frieza kicked you out despite you accepting his offer to join him. Honestly you didn’t have much to keep you here on earth anyway since bad luck had a habit of shooting down your spirits. It all started when you had graduated from high school; your dad suffered from a stroke and eventually succumbed to it within two months, your brother was killed in a car crash with your mother two years later, and just recently you had broken up with your boyfriend whom you’ve been dating for four years after finding out that he was cheating on you with another woman. You’ve at least managed to keep your job at a fast food restaurant thanks to your hard working attitude,however; your heart has been closed off since the breakup and you were tired of all the misery in your life so far that it wouldn’t have even mattered if you ended up robbed, murdered or worse.

Then one day you found yourself linked up with Frieza. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how much of an evil prick he was after the way he spoke to you for the first time. He was obviously not a happy camper when he noticed you were controlling his body and not him. Although you couldn’t necessarily blame him since body snatching wasn’t your cup of tea either. Frieza had openly expressed his disgust towards you many times and while his attitude may have annoyed you to no end you somehow oddly find some comfort in it. Perhaps it was because you too had days where you just had to let out your frustrations though it was all in private. You’ve powered through mentally with Frieza because the sting of your ex’s betrayal was still fresh. But working with the tyrant hasn’t been so terrible not when you had experienced his amazing power which would’ve been found in a comic book or a superhero movie. You felt invincible, untouchable almost like a god and you loved it especially the flying part.

The link you had with Frieza had become more stronger with each battle and along the way you encountered Nappa, Captain Ginyu and the Ginyu force, Cell, Goku, Vegeta, Krillin,and the rest of the z fighters. Through them you experienced each of their own unique powers and got along with most of them. Even Frieza was showing subtle signs of him warming up to you which you were grateful for. But deep down you couldn’t help but develop some attachments to the emperor of the universe himself. You weren’t sure if he had felt the same way as you when he had offered you a position in his army after you both took out Android 21 and you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t make a good soldier since part of Frieza’s requirements to joining the Frieza force included strength which you weren’t confident about despite how well you were doing with the link. But of course if it meant that you could start your life anew and leave your misfortune behind then you’d gladly take it. Then afterwards Frieza had warmly welcomed you to join his forces when Android 21 was taken down at last. You smiled at the thought of being in space looking at the stars and planets while riding in a spaceship boldly going where no human has ever gone before. Suddenly Frieza, Cell, Ginyu and Nappa immediately began charging up when their powers had returned to them, getting ready to attack Goku and the gang and before you knew it Frieza chased you out of his body so he could fight Goku without you holding him back. Devastated and heartbroken at the tyrant’s actions you took to the skies leaving Frieza to exact his revenge on his sayian nemesis.

That was the last time you saw him and you never got to tell him how you felt about him. You shook your head as you headed into work wiping away your tears deciding that you were better off without him anyway. You didn’t have much to offer to a guy like that except for your loyalty and love which you doubted that he would be capable of. Two hours in and the events of last month had already been pushed to the back of your mind as you worked hard cleaning dishes, prepping up food, and sweeping up the floor. The lights flickered faintly above and you thought to yourself that the light bulbs must be starting to give out. You were wiping down the tables when a random guy came up to you in an attempt to flirt with you but you ignored him completely.

“What time do you get off, cutie?” The man asked you.

“Sorry sir but I cannot indulge such information to someone I do not know.” You said with a customer friendly tone which surprised you internally to hear such words coming from your own mouth. Apparently you picked up some of Frieza’s elegant speech pattern while you were linked with him.

The man looked surprised in a happy way. “Fancy way of talking, eh? Then how about you let me take you somewhere fancy to eat after you get off?”

“No thank you.” You said as you started to get irritated with him. The lights above you started to flicker.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I can treat you real nice.” The guy insisted.

“Please sir, I have work to do and I am not interested. Have a nice day.” You told him as you kept your tone friendly while your temper was rising. The lights flickered faster causing several of the staff and customers to look in confusion.

“C’mon don’t tell me that a pretty face like you already has a boyfriend?” Inquired the guy.

Now it was starting to get too personal for your liking as the memories of your ex flowed into your mind like a stream of water. Anger was bubbling up as the flickering lights intensified causing everyone to become concerned and even scared. “That is no concern of yours. Now please leave me alone and have a nice day.” You clenched your teeth as you managed to say in a sweet tone while keeping a grip on your temper. You were getting ready to head back into the kitchen when you felt a hand grab your arm and pulled you back.

“What’s the matter, bitch?” The guy hissed. “You think you’re too good to have a good time with guys like me?” He smelled like he hasn’t bathed in a week and his grip on you grew tighter.

Your coworkers and a few customers saw this and attempted to get him to let you go. But the guy insisted that he was your boyfriend and that it was no one’s business.

“SHUT UP JACKASS! YOU’RE NO ONE TO ME!” You yelled angrily at him and at that same time the lights that were flickering above you exploded. Everyone in the store screamed and covered their heads as glass fell upon them. A fire broke out causing several staff members to grab fire extinguishers and put out the fire.

The customers ran out screaming in panic as you were also running out of the store. You didn’t know what was going on but you did know that this had never happened in the restaurant before. So why now? Sounds of police sirens were drawing close as was the firefighters and you just hoped that no one got hurt. Suddenly you felt arms grabbing you by the waist and you were then carried off by someone.

“Hey! Let me go!” You exclaimed. “Put me down! What do you think you’re doing!”

“It’s just us, human!” Said a familiar gruff yet friendly voice.

You turned to see none other than Captain Ginyu of the Ginyu force. “Ginyu!” You cried as you instantly gave him a hug.

“Don’t forget about us, sheila!” Jeice said happily.

“Hey Jeice, Burter, Recoome, Guldo! It’s great to see you guys again!” You grinned as you saw the rest of the Ginyu force. “But how did you know where to find me?”

Ginyu pointed to the scouter on his face. “We detected your ki with these and by the looks of it your ki skyrocketed to another level!”

You looked at him confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Didn’t you see what had just happened at the restaurant?” Burter asked pointing back to where your job was.

You felt your heart sink as you came to realize what they were talking about. “I did that?”

“You sure did!” Recoome said with a smile.

“But that’s never happened before. I don’t understand why it would happen now.” You said still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Ginyu looks at you with a sympathetic expression on his face. “Perhaps it’s because you were linked with Lord Frieza and that his ki has awakened yours.”

You looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“That’s the only explanation that I can think of. But let’s get you to Lord Frieza first.” Ginyu said taking off into the sky with the others.

“So Frieza wants to see me now after he booted me out?” You said in a sarcastic tone.

“My apologies, huma-“

“It’s Y/n.” You interrupted Ginyu.

“Y/n. Please forgive Lord Frieza. He has been humiliated twice by Goku and needed to get his revenge for it.” Ginyu said.

You huffed. “Did he succeeded?”

“All I can say is that it ended in a stalemate.”

“Figures.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t mean to speak out sir but is no one going to say anything about y/n here being a woman?” Guldo asked.

“Is there something wrong with that?” You asked with a small smile.

“No. Not at all. Just surprised is all.” Guldo said.

Minutes later aboard Frieza’s ship....

Frieza stood by the window as you entered with the Ginyu force leading ahead.

“Lord Frieza, we’ve brought the human with us.” Ginyu said as he bowed.

“Excellent work, Captain Ginyu.” Frieza said in a happy tone while turning slowly to face you. “It has been awhile my dear. You look so much lovelier in person.” He smiles his usual smile that you had come to recognize as his causal expression.

“You don’t seem surprised that I am a girl.” You said observering him and then noticed his tail wiggling about almost like Frieza was glad to see you in the flesh.

“I had Nappa keep a close eye on you afterwards since Saiyans can be easily passed off as humans when their tails are well hidden that is.” Frieza said as he approached you.

“Well no wonder why Nappa has been absent lately.” Guldo mumbled.

You turned your head to glare at Ginyu and the others. “Scouter my ass. You already knew where I was at, didn’t you?”

“Easy Y/n, we weren’t lying about the scouters picking up your ki level. Besides even with Nappa we aren’t familiar with the city you were living in.” Ginyu said.

Frieza cleared his throat getting your attention back onto him who was directly standing in front of you face to face. “As I was saying; I had ordered Nappa to watch over you after the Android 21 incident. When you left I sensed a slight change in your ki and made a mental note to look into it after I delt with that damned Saiyan Goku.”

“I was told that it was a stalemate.” You said.

Frieza grimaced. “It would not have been such a stalemate if Cell hadn’t tried to steal my glory for the last time.” His tail curled up much like how a fist would ball up in anger.

“Did you....kill him?” You asked.

“No, of course not. Goku’s eldest son already did him in with Maijin Buu.” Frieza said. “But enough of that. I believe we have much to discuss about your future here on the Frieza force.”

“Thanks but there’s a concern that I’d like to address with you. Namely my sudden ki rising. Captain Ginyu said that it was the result of our souls being linked together. Is it true?” You asked.

Frieza watched you before motioning for Ginyu and the others to leave the room. They did so without hesitation and now it was just you and him alone. “Indeed it is as you were told. The slight increase of your ki didn’t happen when you and I first met but after destroying Android 21 was when it changed. I have surmised that while you were linked with me your ki was being amplified by mine thus causing it to grow with each battle we’ve faced. Though it is not as strong as mine it’ll at least give you a bit of an edge to defend yourself with.”

“How long do you think it’ll last?” You asked.

Frieza closed his eyes and sighed in annoyance. “Don’t you understand what this means exactly? I’m saying this is permanent. That this newly awakened ki is what you’ll be living with from now on.”

You were dumbfounded at this. You now had powers of your own and yet you were unsure about how to handle it. Or if you could handle it. “Oh boy.” You covered your face with your hands as you rubbed your eyes with them. “This is a lot to take in.”

“For you I have no doubt that it is.” Frieza said flicking his tail casually. “Fortunately you will have plenty of time getting use to it in my army.”

“I probably might but there’s also the issue of controlling it. Before the Ginyu force picked me up I was getting upset with this one guy trying to make a pass at me and when I lost my temper the lights exploded above us.” You told him.

Frieza hummed with curiosity. “Certain emotions often trigger such power like yours. Perhaps that will be something we can work on together.” His tail then slowly wraps around your waist as he pulls your body into his. “I’m sure that you will find it most enjoyable.”

You blushed at how close you were to him and even more so when his tail pulsed. “Frieza? Just to be honest with you, I’m still upset with you for kicking me out.”

“I had a score to settle with Goku. You of all people should understand that. Especially with the amount of time that we’ve spent together sharing the same body.” Frieza said in a stern tone as he took your chin into his hand. “It’s Y/n, yes?”

You nodded.

Frieza smiled his mischievous and cruel smile. “Welcome to the Frieza force, my dear y/n.”

[melzula]

A New Battle Begins

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: requested by anon

summary: Now that the war is over, Zuko and the Princess can finally live a life of peace together. Or so they think...

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Careful now, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” you chide gently as you help guide Zuko’s arms through the sleeves of his robe before neatly tying the sash around his waist. His wound is still tender from Azula’s lightning strike and limits most of his movements, so he’s grateful for your help in his preparation for the coronation. You work precisely and gracefully with no error and no faltering despite the hindrance of your freshly bandaged hands, and though the room is quiet a sense of calm and peacefulness washes over Zuko at your mere comforting presence. Today he will be crowned Fire Lord, and you will be right by his side just like you have been since you were children— Zuko couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

“Thank you for your help,” he says with a grateful smile. “I can’t imagine doing this without you.”

“We’ve come a long way,” you note thoughtfully, “and there’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you in this very moment.”

With the final piece of his wardrobe secured to his body, Zuko takes it upon himself to tie his top knot— you still haven’t quite mastered the hairstyle yet— and complete his Fire Lord ensemble. You smile fondly at the sight of him, leaning forward to grace his lips with a sweet kiss.

“You make a handsome Fire Lord.”

“And one day you’ll make a beautiful Fire Lady,” Zuko counters with a small smirk, one that sends you into an embarrassed fit of giggles.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, mister,” you say with a laugh. “I’m going to join the others out in the courtyard. I’ll see you shortly.”

You bid your love goodbye with a chaste kiss to the cheek before excusing yourself from his presence and making your way back outside. The palace is empty other than the few guards that line the hallways, and you have to remind yourself that they aren’t your enemies any longer. With Zuko on the throne and your status as his girlfriend no one will lay a single finger on you while you are here, especially not with your title as Princess of the Southern Water Tribe. It will take some time to break your habit of immediately going on the defensive in the presence of Fire Nation soldiers, but you have faith that Zuko and Aang will be able to restore balance to the world.

Your path to the outside is suddenly blocked by a woman who stands at the very end of the hall and gazes thoughtfully out the grand window before her. Her hair is graying but the lines that worry her face are kind and familiar. Seemingly sensing your presence, she turns to you with a tired smile, one you recognize immediately despite the many years you’ve spent away from home.

“Mother,” you murmur quietly, eyes welling with tears and breath catching in your throat at the sight of her.

“You’ve grown so much I almost didn’t recognize you,” she replies with a teasing tone. Her arms open to you then, warm and inviting, and with a small sob you gather the skirt of your dress before sprinting towards her.

“Mother!” You cry, melting into her bone crushing embrace as you weep into the fabric of her coat. “I can’t believe it’s you! How- What are you doing here?”

“The Fire Prince sent a messenger hawk to tell me of your bravery and requested my presence in the Fire Nation immediately,” she explains before carefully taking your hands in her own and assessing the bandages wrapped neatly around your wrists and extending all the way to your fingertips. It’s only one layer and it’s mostly just for protection, but it’s obvious that extensive damage has been done to your skin. “Does it hurt?”

“No. The healing took away the pain, but the scars will stay forever.”

“My brave girl,” your mother coos with a tearful smile, hand resting upon your cheek and cupping your face. “Your father would be so proud.”

“Thank you, mom,” you reply. A single tear slides down your cheek but you’re quick to brush it away before it can ruin your ceremonial makeup. “But if I’m being honest, I thought you’d be angry with me... I was afraid when I came back home you’d want nothing to do with me.”

“I was heartbroken when you left,” she admits thoughtfully, “you were my only child and I feared for your safety. I thought of you every day, and when I heard the news of your father’s death I worried that one day I might get the same news about you.”

You look closely at your mother as she explains, appreciating the details of her face and the change of her features. She wasn’t very old, but your absence and your father’s passing weighed heavily upon her through the lines on her skin. She was strong, but she’d also been through a lot these last couple of years, managing her grief while trying to run an entire tribe on her own. You could only hope to be as great of a leader as she was.

“But instead I received news of your bravery, your compassion, and your courage. I couldn’t be more proud to call you my daughter, y/n, and I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

She pulls you into yet another embrace before joining you out in the courtyard to meet your friends, and for the first time in a long time all is right in the world.

~~~

Zuko’s coronation goes off without a hitch, and after successfully establishing the plans for the Harmony Restoration Movement with King Kuei you and your friends decide to visit the Jasmine Dragon to celebrate before the announcement. It’s your last night away from home, and though you’re reluctant to say goodbye to Zuko and your friends you know you’re needed back in the south. You’ve been away for too long, and the Southern Water Tribe is in desperate need of a ruler. With your father gone and your mother growing older it will only be a matter of time before the tribe is left in your hands, so there’s no better time than now to start leaning how to lead.

“Your tsungi horn playing is beautiful as always, Uncle,” you compliment Iroh as Zuko sets your tea before you. He gifts you a chaste kiss to the cheek in passing, an act that has you shyly hiding your smile behind your cup and taking a drink of the jasmine taste you’ve missed so dearly. The last time you’d been in Ba Sing Se you were living under a false identity, settling down into your new life with a reluctant Zuko and trying to start anew. There had been obstacles of course, from the encounters with your midnight stranger to Zuko’s inevitable betrayal down in the crystal caves, but you don’t wish to take any of it back for a second. Because otherwise you wouldn’t be here now, surrounded by your friends as you critique Sokka’s drawing.

“You know the burns are only on my hands and not the rest of me, right?” You ask, pointing out the scars that weave around your arms like vines in the drawing.

“Yeah, but this makes you look cooler!” Sokka defends.

“Well I think you all look perfect,” Toph compliments enthusiastically, and you can’t help but laugh at yet another one of her blind jokes. You’ll miss those once you get back home.

The celebration will be starting soon, and so you join your friends on the back of Appa to fly through the skies and enjoy your time together before the night can end. You sit in the back with Suki who carefully adjusts the flowers in your hair and distracts you from the serious conversation Zuko holds with Aang.

“Are you excited to go back home?”

“Very, but I am going to miss you guys. I’ve spent a whole year with you all, it’ll be so strange being without you.”

“I’m sure we can visit you,” Suki suggests. “And don’t you have that tunnel thing with Zuko?”

“Yeah, we have a tunnel thing,” you nod, a faint smile playing upon your lips. A part of you is excited to see the tunnel again just because it’s been so long, and really it was probably the pivotal force on which your journey began. “I hope my people will be happy to see me.”

“They will. You are the Princess, after all.”

You don’t get to talk any further about the subject before brilliant bursts of fireworks begin to explode in the sky. They’re breathtaking, and by the looks of the crowd down below the Earth King has just announced the harmony restoration movement. Huddling close to Suki, you stare up at the display in awe and with a bittersweet sense of joy. Someone clears their throat from beside you, and both you and Suki turn to see Zuko smiling sheepishly at your pair.

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend away from you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” Suki smiles knowingly before scooting over and allowing you and Zuko some space to yourselves. His arm easily wraps around your frame and pulls you into his side, and already you can feel his warmth beginning to encompass you as you rest your head upon his shoulder.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You murmur in quiet appreciation for the fireworks.

“It is,” Zuko agrees with a faint smile. You’re too engrossed to notice the uneasiness in his tone, but he doesn’t want you to anyway. If you were to find out about the promise Aang had sworn to you’d surely delay your return home just to try and talk him out of it, and Zuko couldn’t have the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe missing on his behalf.

(At least not again.)

Besides, he’d made up his mind and he didn’t plan on changing it any time soon.

He hopes it’ll never come down to that, so for now Zuko is simply content with holding you close and enjoying your last peaceful night together in Ba Sing Se.

Spirits know it will be quite some time before you ever share a night like this again.

~~~

It’s strange being back home. Everything is so... different. Your tribe had dwindled significantly in number what with the casualties of the war, and the smaller villages that resided outside of the palace walls had been reduced to practically nothing. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked off the ship alongside your mother, could hear their gossiping whispers about how much you’d changed and if you were back for good this time, and it made you anxious. You reach for a hand that isn’t there and have to remind yourself that you’re on your own now. Sokka, Zuko, and Suki are no longer around to provide you comfort, so you’ll have to rely on your own inner strength to make it through the day.

“Princess,” a snide voice you’re all too familiar with calls from front steps of the palace. “It is so wonderful to have you home again.”

“Thank you, Advisor Koa,” you reply calmly, bowing in respect to the man but never once pulling your gaze from him. The smirk that plays upon his lips has you fuming but you keep your emotions at bay and remain cordial.

Koa was your father’s most trusted advisor, but you yourself never found him to be very trust worthy. His eyes were always shifty and there was something in the way he carried himself that made it seem as if he had a big secret to hide. The way he talked to your father always came off aggressive and scheming, yet the chief said nothing. As unbearable as Koa could be, he had a bright mind and skillful war tactics, so he stayed in his position of power beneath the royal family. You were meant to marry his son Kai but had ran off with Zuko before the marriage could take place, and you were sure Koa must be bitter about the fact that he hadn’t managed to marry his way into your family.

“Did you enjoy your time galavanting with the Fire Prince while the rest of your tribe was left to fend for themselves in the result of your absence?”

“I helped the Avatar bring balance to the world which is more than you can say, Koa. Need I remind you you were the only man who chose to say behind during the war?” You snap back harshly, holding back a triumphant smirk at the man’s obvious annoyance with your insult. Two can play at that game.

“Always a joy,” he mutters with an insincere grin.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I have a tribe to run,” you say, but before you can even take a step towards the palace Koa is blocking your path.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You see, the Southern Water Tribe already has a leader: me.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” You retort harshly, features falling at the guilty look that forms on your mother’s face. “What is he talking about?”

“I couldn’t run an entire tribe by myself,” she admits desperately, pleading for you to understand. “With you and your father gone I had no choice but to accept Koa’s offer to stand in as Chief until one of you returned.”

“Well I have returned, and as the rightful heir of this tribe I am ordering you to step down!” You demand pointedly, blood boiling at the laugh that leaves Koa in response.

“You’re absolutely adorable,” he coos condescendingly, pinching your cheek before you harshly yank yourself away from his grasp. “Do you really think a little girl is capable of ruling?”

“I’m a water bending master and I helped the Avatar defeat the Fire Lord and end the war! I am not a little girl!”

“You were selfish and ran away from your duties. You left your people in their time of need. You’re lucky you were even allowed back here considering the treachery you’ve partaken in against the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Koa,” your mother interrupts timidly. “I may have put you in charge but I will not allow you to speak to my daughter that way.”

“My apologies, your highness,” Koa utters respectfully before returning his attention to you. A snide smile rests upon his lips. “It really was so lovely to see you again, Princess y/n.”

“Mother, you can’t-“

“Not now,” she consoles quietly, watching his triumphantly retreating form disappear behind the palace doors before glancing around at the small crowd that had gathered to observe the dispute. “If you want to get the throne back you can’t act irrationally.”

Your once hardened features slowly soften as you let out a defeated sigh, collapsing into the comforting embrace of your mother.

Restoring balance to the world hadn’t been enough to save face with your people, and now you found yourself entangled in a whole new fight. With your friends gone and your father unable to help you win the crown what were you to do?

So much for home sweet home...

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[worldoffanfiction2021]

Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 5

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/131730357839252427/)

It was the most exciting time of the year in Quinqui. It was time for harvest festival. This was a 7 day long festival with parades, performances from acrobats and a grand fair. Every year anyone related to Quinqui, no matter how far from home he might be, would make it a point to come. Even visitors from all over would gather here.

Bai Xian, the crown prince Ye Hua and their little son Ah-Li had also come to the fox den for this celebration. Ah-Li and Gungun were both super excited to go to the fair. Chong Lin was trying to keep them interested in other things long enough so that they could go only after the sun would go down a little. Bai Xian was so not wanting to walk around in the hot sun and had tasked Chong Lin with this duty.

She herself had come to Xiaobai's room and was helping her bathe and get dressed. Xiaobai had recovered quite a lot, but her wound still hurt if she tried to move quickly or even tried to comb her long hair. So Bai Xian had taken it upon herself to look after her favorite niece.

Dijun had ventured to the kitchen asking his mother-in-law's help to cook something tasty and nutritious for his wife. His mother-in-law was only too happy to oblige. Finding not much else to do by himself Ye Hua had joined in too. They all chatted and cooked away a whole feast with sweet and sour fish, noodle soup, congee and various types of cakes. All of them were feeling very accomplished. Dijun and Ye Hua loaded two trays with all the food and decided to go to Xiaobai's room so they all could eat together.

When the two reached Xiaobai's room, she had finished bathing and getting dressed. Bai Xian was combing her hair and they were chatting. "Please don't tell whatever I am about to say, to Dijun. I don't want him to feel any more guilty than what he is already feeling.", Fengjiu was saying. Dijun signalled to Ye Hua to stop and not enter the room. They both placed the food trays on a nearby table and waited. Ye Hua signalled to Dijun that he will be back soon and left in search of their sons.

"Ye Hua is a true gentleman!", mused Dijun and continued to eavesdrop. His wife was about to tell something to her aunt that she thought would make him feel guilty. So? It wasn't going to be pretty. But he was quite thick skinned and he could handle it. At least that's what he told himself at that time.

Fengjiu continued reminiscing and talking to her aunt. She was talking about some of the hardest days of her life and it wasn't easy for her. But this was her aunt and she was one person Fengjiu did not mind being herself with.

"I waited for Dijun for 73 days. Each day was harder than the one before, but I waited. Everyone told me he had chosen to go to demon realm with Ji Heng. I chose not to believe them.  I went to demon realm with Chong Lin to look for Dijun. There they told me he had been with Ji Heng. I was heartbroken.

I returned home here and was crying inconsolably in my room when medicine god Zhe Yan walked in. He sensed something off with me, checked my pulse and told me that I was pregnant. That moment! It changed my whole life.

I remember that night I did not sleep at all. But by the time morning came, I had made up my mind. God Zhe Yan  had left me two pills - one that would abort and another that would preserve the baby. He also left a note saying he would support me no matter what I picked.

This was my baby. Mine and Dijun's. The only man I have ever loved. This baby was symbol of my unconditional love for Dijun. I knew he had loved me sincerely too. May be after seeing Ji Heng in trouble, he had decided to spend the rest of his life with her. But I knew when he had told me he loved me, he had meant it. I would keep this baby and live for the baby. This baby would be my whole universe from then on.  I ate the pill that would preserve my baby.

Then I packed a few clothes, supplies to hide my birthmark, dress up as a man etc and left Quinqui. First I went to Sky Kingdom. Something in my heart was still not ready to let him go. I hoped to see him one last time. If he wanted to be with Ji Heng, all he had to do was tell me. I would get out of his way. But I didn't find him there. I knew I needed to be strong  for this baby. Especially since I would be his only parent. So I let go of everything and left sky kingdom.

From there I went to Nether world, and checked up on Ye Quingti. I knew I would pay his debt no matter what. I left a trinket with Lord Xie Gu so he could reach me when he needed me to wake Quingti up. And then i went to mortal realm and stayed there until... "

"Why mortal realm? Didn't you know you would be all alone and you wouldn't be able to use your magic either? How could you have acted so foolishly, Fengjiu?", scolded Bai Xian.

"Aunt, I chose mortal realm because I did not want anyone to find me. I knew if any of you had learned that I was pregnant, you would confront Dijun and make him take responsibility for me and the baby. I knew what it was like, to stay away from the one I loved, I could never wish that for him.", Fengjiu explained.

Bai Xian rolled her eyes indignantly and continued with the questions. "How did you manage your pregnancy? Going into labor? The delivery? Did you take care of yourself properly at all?". She was seriously concerned.

"I did the best I could. I went to mortal realm and worked as a cook in a restaurant at that time. It was really hard work all day long. My body ached all the time and I was exhausted. But at least the owner who was an old lady, was kind to me. She let me eat leftovers  and also let me take breaks often in my last month of pregnancy. She even revived me when I passed out from 3 days of labor pains and she helped me deliver Gungun safely. I am so grateful to her.

I was really sad when her son showed up 3 months later and wanted to force himself on me. I fought him, made him unconscious and ran away with Gungun. I did suffer physically and I was also very sad to leave the old lady to look after herself. But, I had no choice, so I did what I could.", Fengju tried in vain to make light of it. Bai Xian was appalled at what she heard.

And so was Dijun. He felt he had been too naive in thinking he could handle whatever he heard about her days in mortal realm. He had really underestimated her hardships.

Her days had been hard. When she had given him up, she had also given up her family and friends. All because of him. He knew he could never repay her for the things he had put her through.

"You are a Princess of Quinqui. You are the Monarch of this kingdom. You are the Empress of one of the most prestigious, powerful and revered god in the Sky Kingdom. Yet you had to work in restaurant and pass out from labor pains with no one to look after you. That's just so ...... ", Bai Xian was so furious, so flabbergasted that she could not find the right words at all.

"How can you love someone so much? How can you love him so much?", she asked incredulously to Fengjiu.

"Love is mysterious in its ways.", Fengjiu replied with a faint smile.

She knew her aunt was very angry. So Fengjiu reached for her aunt's hand. She hugged her aunt and wiped her aunt’s tears smilingly. Bai Xian's anger melted away. No one could stay angry at Fengjiu for long. With more tears in her eyes, Bai Xian planted a kiss on Fengjiu's head and held her close.

Dijun decided it was about time the ladies were interrupted. He wasn't sure he could bear to know any more of the hardships this delicate woman had toughed out because of him. He wasn't that thick skinned after all. He picked up the tray of food that had gone cold and heated everything back up with magic. He saw Ye Hua return with both the kids and together they walked in.

They sat in a circle and ate together. Both guys were pretty happy seeing their wives eat and praise the food they had prepared.

Dijun kept stealing weird glances at Xiaobai. She could sense something off about him. Was he worried about something? Was he about to go away soon and leave her for long time again? That thought scared her and made her very sad. But watching him smile at Gungun, she reasoned with herself that that must not be the case. She would have to ask him later when they were alone, she decided.

And she did get a chance to be alone with him soon. After the food was all gobbled up, Ah-Li reminded everyone that they had to go to the fair after lunch. So Gungun, Ah-Li, Bai Xian and Ye Hua all got ready to go.

“I will bring you sugar paintings, mom. Tell me what kind you want?”, Gungun said.

“Bring me back one dragon and one fox.”, she replied and exchanged a meaningful look with Dijun. That did bring back fond memories and a smile to Dijun’s face. She was happy to see her trick had worked to lighten his mood.

After they were all gone, Dijun closed the door behind them. He came back to her and helped her walk to the window. Although it was quite bright and sunny outside, the glorious willow tree in the yard provided just enough shade on the window seat. They both sat there with Dijun wrapping his arms around Xiaobai.

“What’s going on, Dijun? What’s been worrying you? Please tell me. And please be completely honest with me, ok? No matter how bad whatever that is, I want to know. And I want to work together with you to make it better. So tell me why you are so sad, so worried?” Xiaobai said looking into his eyes with  sincerity.

“Xiaobai, I overheard what you were telling your aunt about the time of Gungun’s birth. I am feeling so guilty about that. As a husband I have failed you. Miserably failed you. I am so very sorry.”, Dijun’s voice cracked.

Xiaobai let out a long sigh and took his hands in hers. She looked at him, quite relieved that the worry wasn't anything about their future. She began to talk. “Dijun, what has passed is gone by. No matter what, we can never change it. So please let it all go. I do feel guilty about misunderstanding you, about talking to you coldly last time we met in the Sky Kingdom and keeping your son away from you for so long. But I am learning from it and learning to let it go. Let’s promise to always be completely honest with each other. Let’s start over, ok?”

A deep sigh left Dijun’s mouth as relief washed over him. His Xiaobai was still willing to give him another chance. She was asking to start afresh with him.

“When did my silly little fox become so wise?”, he chuckled and petted her nose. Hugging her, he let out a long sigh. She shifted to be more closer to him.

He pulled her close and said, “Are you tired, Xiaobai? Sleep a little if you are tired.” He planted a soft kiss on her hair, “Be a good girl and take rest for a while. We can take a small walk outside later if you feel better.”

“Hhmm..”, she said. Then she  sunk her head on his chest and closed her eyes contentedly.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Epilogue

So, this is it. We officially reached the end. I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending. This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter. it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too. I hope you love the girls.

I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.

I am coming back..  A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.

And now i'll leave you to the story. Enjoy <3

--------------------

5 years later

My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago. I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore. And well, you know the story after that. It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.

Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary. Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja. Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short. But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different. Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane. Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot. Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature. If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar. Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar. Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family. So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour. Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation. Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering. My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased. I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south. Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after. Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department. Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months. Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes. Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything. My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.

***

“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her. Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand. “Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter. “Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth. They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him. “I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand. Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus. Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted. “I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly. “I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn. “So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.” “Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin. Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?” “Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father. Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.” With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer. The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop. Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.” “Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls. Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan. “You look tired.” “They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.” “My girl.” Said Rowan proudly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.” Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.” “Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.” “Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.” “I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.” Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.” “Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.” He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.” “You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water. “She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.” “I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed. “We’ll let her decide.” “Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.” Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop. Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while. “Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?” Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything. “Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.” “Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms. “Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face. “She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.” Aelin laughed and blushed a bit. “Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit. “Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope. “The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.” When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale. “Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.” “Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight. “But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.” Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her. “I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop. Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip. “Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence. “You really have super powers.” Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”

Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers. “I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.” Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.” The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes. “Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?” “Yes.” They both squealed. Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?” The two girls nodded and left the room. Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs. The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes. Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.” “Freyja finally calmed down.” “My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him. He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.” Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away. Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling. Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.” Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.” In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.” The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour. “They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed. “They do love Totoro.” He added smiling. “Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.” Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.” “Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s. Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her. “This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.” Rowan kissed her temple. “This is my dream too.”

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[uomo-accattivante]

Great comprehensive interview with Elvira on the making of The Letter Room and filmmaking, in general. One interesting tidbit mentioned: she is currently developing a podcast about sex. 👀🤔

For most of her creative life, Elvira Lind has been behind the the lens compassionately capturing true stories as a documentary filmmaker. Her debut feature, Songs for Alexis, observes two young lovebirds navigating a long distance relationship and challenging views on gender identity in the modern age. While her sophomore feature, Bobbi Jenne, explores the life of a famous dancer fighting for her own creative and personal independence.

Despite her prolific doc work, a story that couldn't simply be told in its raw form kept circulating in her head: a dark prison comedy about the secret life of a correctional officer trying to bring humanity to the prison system. When he gets transferred to a job in the letter room, he finds himself a little too involved in the private lives of the inmates.

Far along in her second pregnancy, and with the support of an incredible team of collaborators, Elvira took on the challenge of writing and directing her first narrative short, "The Letter Room." The film stars Oscar Isaac and Alia Shawkat, and has had an all-star festival run, screening at Telluride, Tribeca, and the Palm Springs International Film Festival. Here, Elvira reflects on the joys and challenges of creating your first short film—putting empathy first, reshaping the tropes around pregnancy, and screening in the COVID era.

FTW: How did you become a filmmaker?

Elvira Lind: I’ve always loved film. I was very drawn to documentaries because it felt like you were entering something that was really happening. You opened a door and were already inside the film. You’re just trying to keep up with what’s being thrown at you. As opposed to fiction where you have to conjure it up from nowhere. I loved imagining and writing stories when I was little, but I didn’t have the confidence to pursue it.

I didn’t come from a family of filmmakers. And I came from a time when people had a little shitty camcorder that you borrowed from someone’s uncle, and buying film was expensive. Things opened up and changed a lot when cameras became more accessible.

I could only afford one year of film school in Cape Town, where I met some amazing people and learned about so many different ways of storytelling. I came back to Denmark and found myself working for free a lot for other filmmakers while doing a side job. The paid work was very hard to get, but I’d rather work for free with filmmakers that I loved and have more responsibilities than have access to nothing. It wasn’t easy to find my way in, but it’s so worth it. 

And now you live in New York. How does this global background affect your general filmmaking style and approach?

I definitely bring a lot of Danish documentary traditions with me and hold it very dear. There are a lot of kick ass female documentary filmmakers in Denmark that have taught me a lot. There’s a good support system for women there. It’s an incredibly privileged place in that there’s funding from the government to make films. You can make things that, in my opinion, are often far more interesting because it’s not reliant on how it’s going to make money in the box office.

You’ve shot many of your documentaries in the past. So what was it like this time to be working with a cinematographer?

I always wanted to work with a cinematographer on my documentaries; we just couldn’t afford it. Now for “The Letter Room”, I worked with Sam Chase, who has got such a brilliant eye and it was wonderful to have someone to work with on composing the look of the film because I’m usually doing it by myself. It is kind of like a marriage. I work with the same editor on all my projects as well. You enter this symbiotic sort of dance together. For me, it also means you have to fight about things and disagree and then make up and hear each other out. My editor, Adam Nielsen, is the kind of guy who just comes up with genius ideas while in the shower or on the way home from work on his bicycle. You have to find these key people in your life where you can bounce ideas back and forth with.

Where did the idea for “The Letter Room” come from?

It was a story that was brewing in my head for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to put a narrative film together. I just started to write it down and then it kept developing.

There was a podcast that I listened to that really inspired me. It told the story of different men who were all unknowingly writing love letters to the same woman. She started to ask for money and help with rent, but the letters she wrote were so wonderful and all these men were very in love with her. These very lonely men felt like magic had entered their lives. They all eventually found out that the woman was actually a man writing to different people trying to get their money. They were all heartbroken, but one of the men said that the worst part was losing these letters and that the fantasy was gone. He wished they could just keep writing to each other. So much of life is fantasy and trying to live through other people’s lives. I’m very drawn to stories of loneliness and bottled up feelings.

And then I am firmly against the American prison system. It’s heartbreaking, frustrating, and I can’t make sense of it. How do you even begin to explain this system to a child?

It’s a society that doesn’t care about humanity. I wanted to show the monotony, the repetition, the sadness. I don’t see the bigger goal or purpose of locking people away for countless years  and taking away all the things that makes you feel human, that makes life joyous. I really believe that we can all change and this system teaches people nothing. “The Letter Room'' is the combination of these two concepts that I’m very passionate about.

And then I got pregnant for the second time and I hadn’t made a film between the two. It was a crazy feeling to be taken over again by pregnancy. A wonderful friend of mine, Sofia Sondervan-Bild, came to me and said, “I think you should make this film and I’ll make it with you.” Initially, I freaked out and thought I didn’t know how to do fiction and doubted how I could make a film in a prison, but she inspired me and told me to do it. She’s just one of these incredibly powerful people that you want to go on an adventure with. She made me feel like my pregnancy wasn’t going to stand in the way of me making this film. We ended up shooting while I was far along in my pregnancy in a prison in the middle of a summer heat wave. It was crazy, but it was the best thing that I could’ve done at the time.

When you were directing on set at that stage of pregnancy, did you feel like you were reshaping tropes of what women are capable of? 

It was insane. The funny thing was that the crew was like, “we can’t complain that we are tired because she is extremely pregnant and still running around.” I was so high off of that experience. When we finished, I collapsed. I fell straight onto the couch and then I have a two and a half year old screaming my name. That was more work for me than directing the short. I edited the film right before I gave birth actually, and then I gave birth and did sound right after. I was pumping breast milk in the corner in the darkness during the sound edit.

I’ve learned a lot from surpassing whatever I thought was physically possible with being pregnant. I learned that being in a creative process gives you so much energy that it allows you to be in whatever shape, size, form, mental space you can. People are ready to give you their support, if you choose the right people. I’m really grateful that I chose such wonderful collaborators who supported me through it all. Even when people were questioning my choice to direct a film while being pregnant in a prison. Why not? Women get pregnant and then we still need to be supported so that we can continue to make the things we want to do.

What was your experience with getting “The Letter Room” funded?

It’s really hard, let’s be honest. There aren’t a lot of people sitting around waiting to fund a short film. We ended up working with Topic, which is a part of First Look Media. They are just incredible and really support filmmakers with whatever their vision is. I’ve had great experiences and some really bad experiences with funding, so I know this was an ideal scenario.

Having a short that is over 30 minutes long seems like a feat. At what stage in the process did you know this was going to be a longer piece? And how did that decision affect the shoot in both positive and difficult ways?

It was way too long at first, and when I shortened it, it was still 32 minutes. We could only afford five days of shooting, and a lot of it is shot on active prison grounds, which have an insane amount of protocol. We almost used everything we shot.

I’m not used to being able to have different angles to choose from in my doc work, so I think I just knew exactly what I wanted. I know that my producers were worried that I wasn’t getting enough, but to me, I was like, I’m getting double of what I usually get on a documentary! Everyone was quietly concerned, but everything worked out when we got to the edit.

The short’s length hasn’t done any favors for me so far, but you need to breathe as an audience, you need to pace it out. If I cut out certain minutes, it would’ve felt rushed and you wouldn’t have believed the arcs that the characters had.

I loved the concept of placing a very empathetic character in a setting that is contrary to that personality type. You included so many details that made the world feel so three dimensional and cared for. Can you talk about those decisions to create that feeling?

It means so much to me that it made you feel that way. What frustrates me about the prison system is that it lacks any empathy or understanding of human nature and nurture and who we are. What we need to become better people. It takes all of that away.

I spoke to people who have spent a lot of time in prison and they told me that you have to hide your feelings and that showing any signs of weakness will be a disaster. It’s the worst possible scenario you can imagine yourself in. Being robbed of every privacy, anything that makes you happy, anything that makes you feel like yourself. I imagined the character of a caregiver in this setting who wants to help and finds a silly way to do so. I was very inspired by that story of the love letters that I talked about earlier. What does it mean to lie if you’re making someone else happy?

It’s the morning of your first day of the shoot — how do you feel?

I was very nervous. I had never said ‘action’ before. I’ve been on a lot of sets, but I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t know what I was doing, but it’s also okay not to know. Mistakes are going to happen, and sometimes they become gifts. At the same time, I was very excited. You come in and there are all these people there with you who are there to make this thing you’ve written come to life.

What are some things you would do on set to create a safe space and vulnerable environment?

We did everything we could to make the set a safe space. It was very difficult and stressful to shoot in an active prison, but we made sure to actively ask our crew if everyone’s feeling okay and if we can do anything to make the situation better. I’m very vulnerable and encourage all of my crew to be vulnerable with me. Mistakes are welcome.

It's a short film, people come and work on this not because they’re making a million dollars, but because they want to be there and are being incredibly generous with their time and energy. It was such a good environment that even when challenging things came up, it was still a lot of fun.

What was it like working with actors for the first time?

That was one of the biggest challenges for me. I’ve heard so many different stories in passing of the least helpful note or worst thing to say to an actor. You want to be respectful and actors have their way of working. Ultimately, they are all really talented actors and all of them came with so much energy and a lot of ideas.

I spent time with each of them talking about their character. Those 1 on 1 conversations helped me a lot in the writing process as well because you’re bouncing ideas off of each other and they’re asking you questions about how they would respond to a certain situation.

I had always imagined Alia Shawkat as Rosita and she ended up wanting to do it and came from LA to film it. I had tears in my eyes when we were filming the scene of her and Oscar. They were excited to do the scene together. It was all a dream.

What was the experience of working creatively alongside your partner like?

We were joking a lot about it before because there was already the stress of being so pregnant and we have a 2 year old at home, and now I was putting us in another highly intense and demanding situation. Either it was going to be great OR we would drive each other nuts. But we had so much fun. It was wonderful to work together. I was so happy to be on set and make my film and he’s just so talented and fun to be around. Those little moments where you know each other so well—I’d give him notes and he just kept surprising me and was so respectful of my directions.

He found this photo for him to connect to the character and it became very fundamental to me. It was this incredible black and white photo from the 70s of a prison guard. I had always imagined that he would have this inner salsa soundtrack playing in his soul and we would play Rubén Blades and 70s salsa music and Oscar just morphed that into music into everything and created this unique character. 

And he was wearing a fat suit the entire shoot and I was pregnant and Alia Shawkat had her pregnant belly on. The three of us—it was so funny.

It seems like the perfect first experience of going into narrative with people that you really trust and support you.

Definitely! Find the people that you can team up with that really believe in your vision and who will push you to do exactly what you had in mind. People who never try to push you into these conventional routes. Our creative voices are so fragile. You want to be on the same page so that they see what you’re trying to do and want to bring that out of you. Where they’re treating your film as a sacred thing that you’re creating together.

How do you know when a film is done?

Fiction is very different from documentaries. With documentaries, it never feels like it’s done because there are so many options. That’s also why I love fiction so much; It’s so much faster. It’s a whole different beast to tame a documentary with hundreds of hours of footage where you’re reinventing the wheel every day.

How have you built up your own confidence as a director and your unique voice?

Stubbornness. I’ve had many experiences working with people who didn’t believe in my project. You have to stick to your guns and trust your instincts. Once you find your voice, you find people that want to go on that ride with you and find your vision interesting. It’s a miracle when any of us gets a project made, so your confidence can’t come from how much money your movie made. It has to come from somewhere else. Did you do justice to the people you portrayed in your story? Did anyone walk away feeling like something had changed within them?

What is a good director to you?

Someone who is driven with passion without letting that passion take over and become any source of frustration that’s taken out on other people. It should feel like a collaborative effort. And having gratitude every day that you’re making something with other people who are donating their time. You’d be nowhere without them. One of the most important things is making sure that your crew is treating everyone equally. It depends on the size of the production, but having someone who can sense what’s happening in all different departments and having department heads that are there to protect everyone. Listen to each other, and make sure everyone feels safe and is in the best place to be creative.

With COVID, what has the adjustment been like to being in an online space for this festival run? 

I’m really deeply saddened by not having the human interaction aspect of it. It feels so crucial to be in the room together, to meet and see each other's projects and share the experience, to cry and laugh next to people you don’t know. I’m grieving to be honest. We just gotta get through this time. It reminds us of how sacred it is for us to gather and how that feels, and I hope that all of that will come back after this and that cinemas will survive. We really need them.

What’s next for you?

Right now I’m writing more fiction and working on a new documentary feature that I am kind of researching and shooting at the same time. I am also creating a podcast about sex, called “The List” with my friend, writer and photographer Kirra Cheers, based on a book and play she wrote. My husband and I just started a production company together, Mad Gene Media, in order to develop and produce our own material. So. lots of exciting things to continue with in the new year.

Born in 1981 in Copenhagen, Elvira Lind graduated from School of Media and Creative Arts in Cape Town in 2006 majoring in documentary film where she received two awards for her final year achievements. She has worked within that field since directing and shooting documentaries of various lengths for TV, cinema and web on 4 different continents.​In 2020 she premiered her first fiction project, a 32 min short film she wrote and directed. The film was sold to Topic and was invited to various festivals including Telluride and Tribeca FF. Elvira's feature doc BOBBI JENE premiered at Tribeca Film Festival in 2017 where it won all awards in its category including Best Feature documentary, best editing and best Cinematography. The film had theatrical release in US, Spain and Scandinavia.​Elvira's first documentary feature Songs for Alexis premiered at Toronto HOT DOCS in 2014 and screened and competed at a long list of international festivals. Her 8 part documentary TV series "Twiz and Tuck" was bought by VICELAND and launched in 2017. Elvira now lives and works out of New York.

###

[thewanderingace]

Okay I'm a little less emotional now and I've processed a bit so here's my disorganized thoughts during and about Lucifer season 6

Massive MASSIVE amount of spoilers under the cut!!

Lucifer has been my favorite show for the last 5 years and I've been through so many ups and downs with it that saying goodbye to it was HARD. The whole season just utterly wrecked me. I think I cried at least twice an episode but the final 2 episodes was non stop sobbing. Non stop.

To me, it felt like this season was one long goodbye and I loved it. Not just the cast and crew saying goodbye to the fans and the show but it gave us a way to say our goodbyes to the characters through them and I'm grateful for that. Did it hurt like a bitch the whole time? Oh yeah. My heart aches. But we got to say goodbye and it's not often we get to do that with tv shows. Even if not everything went the way I wanted to, I'm okay with that. I cried my eyes out the whole time and for hours afterwards but now that my emotions have settled somewhat, I'm okay with it all. I kinda like the bittersweetness of it.

Overall I loved the final season. It had some great funny moments, soooooo much intimate Deckerstar I mean the love between them is palpable every second they're together, and so many great character moments. This was really about the characters and the emotions and less about murders and action and plot. And as a fan of emotional character moments I loved that. And Tom's acting was fucking out of this world. I mean they all were but Tom especially gave the performance of a lifetime in my opinion.

Going into this final season my checklist of things I want to see happen was as follows:

Ella finds out the truth about the celestials

Lucifer does not become God. In fact I want him to focus on changing hell and helping people move on past their guilt and go to Heaven. Like Dan. I want him to help people like Dan. Or just change the system entirely so people like Dan don't end up in Hell

Amenadiel does become God

Linda continues being the therapist to the celestials

No more Maze and Lucifer fighting with each other

Dan moving on to Heaven and being with Charlotte

Ella being happy with Carol

Deckerstar happy and together at the end

That was everything I wanted and you know what? I GOT IT!

Ella not only found out that they were all celestials, she figured it out on her own!! She's so smart! And I love how she was just 100% cool with it all because her faith has always been so strong. It was the fact that they didn't tell her that upset her and yeah I'm upset about that too and I really wish one of them had told her that they didn't tell her because they didn't want to hurt her. Linda and Chloe both knew how difficult it was for them to learn and Lucifer saw how affected they were. So they were in a way trying to protect Ella from pain. She had every right to be mad and upset. But I'm thrilled she is in the know now and the way she ran after Amenadiel to see him fly was amazing.Just the look on her face as she saw an angel fly was perfect.

I liked Linda's boredom with human problems as a therapist and how she's feeling unfulfilled in regular day to day problems. It's something I wondered about last season and I'm glad it was addressed. And I love that she continues to treat celestials like Adam XD. I wonder if her practice will just turn into a celestial therapy practice. Angels, demons, etc. All are welcome and she'd be amazing at it.

This is the best that Lucifer and Maze's relationship has ever been and I am LOVING IT! He asked for her advice and she didn't make fun of him or say something mean, she actual gave him her advice and he listened to it! Maze then supported his awkward ways of trying to get to know Rory and tried to show Rory that's he's trying! And when she asked him for help with Adam he came! And he listened to her!! She said her feelings and he listened!! And reacted appropriately!! AND HELPED HER!! "My best fiends wedding" omg!!! AND THEN!! He openly admits that she's his best friend during his goodbye!! I love it!! And he opens his arms for a hug!! AND THEY ACTUALLY HUGGED!!! Maze and Lucifer this season was so good!!!!

I had a feeling even before going into this season that Lucifer would not end up as God but that Amenadiel would and I am soooo glad that that is what happened! Lucifer as God didn't feel right and I'm glad there was a several episode long arc of Lucifer slowly coming to realize that not only is it not his calling but he doesn't want to do that job. He wants to help people but not like that. I love that growth for him.

I actually really liked Carol and I think he and Ella are cute together and I hope they'll be very happy. I mean the cuteness factor of them doing bad karate moves together nearly killed me. I also loved that Ella's trauma with Pete didn't go away but was embraced. Of course she wouldn't be okay after all that and I'm glad the writers didn't ignore it.

THE DECKERSTAR!!! THIS SEASON WAS PEAK DECKERSTAR AND I AM LIVING!!!! Where do I even start with this?! The Deckerstar love this season was so high that it destroyed me at the end. I mean the touches, the looks, the hugs, the kisses, the dancing, the dates, the beach cuddle, the nose kisses, the forehead kisses, the casual I love yous, the flying together, sexy times, the mutual support for each other, the pure LOVE between was so incredible. The fact that they had to be separated for so long, Lucifer alone in Hell and Chloe raising two kids alone, fucking hurts me heart so damn much but we got so many wonderful moments with them that it will sustain me. I mean their goodbye was so fucking beautiful and I'm devastated. It wouldn't so much if they're love wasn't so beautiful.

Some other things I really enjoyed about the season:

Lucifer geeking out about magic! That was hilarious and I loved how he tried so hard to not know how the tricks worked.

All of Episode 3. I really enjoyed this episode for a variety of reasons. 1 being the funny craziness of the cartoon hell loop. I mean that was bonkers and I couldn't stop laughing. I loved it. I also loved seeing Lucifer under control of the hell loop and how he made it so Jimmy could be with him mom. But what I loved most about it is this glimpse into what I assume Chloe and Lucifer are doing post show (also kinda confirmed by Ildy and Joe). We see the two of them investigating people's (Jimmy Barnes') hell loops for answers to their guilt in order to help them move onto Heaven. I love that with all my heart. They both continue to help people, Lucifer using what he's learned from Linda to help them with their emotions and Chloe using her badass detective skills to find the answers. They're gonna help so many people.

Lucifer's realization that he ends up caring for people he tries to help and how that's actually a good thing. That it's something to embrace. He's come so far emotionally and I'm so proud of him.

Lucifer's to do list made me laugh so much. Look at this:

Become God

Prove I love Rory

Check in with Father Frank

Azrael's blade still secure?

Start calling Dan "Casper"

Rewatch Bones

Visit Sao Paulo

Try Golden Gate with Chloe First of all the second thing is to prove he loves Rory? AORABLE!! But what caught my eye next is check in with Father Frank. FATHER FRANK!! IS HE IN HELL?!?! DOES LUCIFER CHECK IN WITH HIM A LOT??? Rewatch Bones! Call Dan Casper! I don't even want to know what Golden Gate is XD

Dad!Lucifer. Oh my god I never expected to enjoy Lucifer as a dad as much as I did. Lucifer would have been the best dad and he proved that. The presents he would have given his daughter were perfect, the talks between the two of them, the love he has for Rory was palpable and beautiful. I mean he barely knew her for a few moments and he immediately fell in love with her and would do anything for her. He loved Rory so much and he so desperately wanted to be in her life and it KILLS me that he didn't get to do that. His face when she made him promise to not change things was DEVASTATING! He wanted to be her dad. He wanted to see her grow up. And he didn't get that chance!! I HATE THIS!!! He would have been/was the best dad ever! The montage of them spending the day together was perfection. Sumo wrestling, water balloon fights, shopping, snacks, watching Bones together, his face while listening to her talk about More Bones. It was perfect and exactly how Lucifer would be as a Dad. Fun, attentive, caring. I'm heartbroken.

All of Episode 9. This, to me, felt like the episode for us and the cast and the crew to say goodbye and I'm so grateful for it. Lucifer making the round and saying his goodbyes had me sobbing. I loved them all and I love that Lucifer got say all the things he felt to the people he loved most before he had to leave. Each one was so perfect. Him telling Linda how much he loved her and she is the "most wonderful friends that a devil could ever have". Him telling Ella he was sorry and how he didn't want to leave without her knowing again and the "Ella Lopez STEM Initiative"!!!! I'm gonna cry. Even when he's gone she'll never forget him because of this. Him giving Lux to Amenadiel and telling him that "of all our siblings, I am glad it's you I spent all this time on Earth with. Because you are my favorite brother, brother." I'm dead. Him telling Maze that she is his best friend and he's sorry he didn't always treat her that way. THEIR HUG! His final moment with Dan being the clincher in getting him to Heaven. AND THE FINAL BEACH DAY WITH CHLOE AND RORY WAS SO PERFECT I'M CRYING! The three of them on the drive, Chloe drinking too much champaign, the cuddling on the sand, Lucifer and Rory hugging and their whole talk about how he felt after his father abandoned him. I loved it so much. My only complaint is that I wanted a scene with Trixie too.

Lucifer's love of Bones was really on point this season. I love that detail.

Maze and Eve's wedding. WAS. BEAUTIFUL! I loved their dresses, Linda walking Maze down, Eve owning her own person, their vows, their love, their reception, Maze and Trixie doing their handshake, Dan attending, Lucifer and Chloe being all lovey dovey, Maze's demon family attending as zombies. I loved it all!

Ghost Dan was both crazy funny and so fucking sad. I'm glad he was still here this season and got this arc. Him working through his guilt and moving onto Heaven. I knew all along that Dan's guilt he hadn't worked on was him leaving Trixie and not being a good father to her since he avoided seeing her. I loved that he got a chance to talk to her and that she told him he was being a dummy and she loved him so much.

The music choices. I already lost it at Hazy Shade of Winter but then they went and chose BLACK PARADE for the final scene in Hell and as soon as that first note hit, the fucking G note, I sobbed even harder (as if that was possible).

Bob and Katya cameos!!!

And on that note, I loved all of Lucifer's singing moments. Always do.

Dan playing ping pong with Baliol

But for all the things I loved, there were a few I did not. It's bound to happen and even though they're big they don't change my overall positive feelings about the season.

Here are the things I didn't like:

No Trixie. We barely had any Trixie this season and I hate it. I'm very very happy she was at Maze and Eve's wedding but why was that basically it! Luci didn't even say goodbye to her! They should have had a goodbye scene! Actually, he didn't have any scenes with her in the whole season except forthat tiny scene at the wedding when she asks them when they're getting married and he flounders and she laughs. THAT'S ALL WE GOT!!! I WANTED MORE DAMMIT! SHE WASN'T EVEN THERE WHEN CHLOE DIED!! The scene when she talks to Dan killed me though. I loved that.

This is the biggie. The one that gives me an immense amount of pain and anguish when I think about it because it's so damn sad. Lucifer never gets to see his daughter grow up, never gets to have his family, never sees his family again when they're alive, never gets to spend his life with Chloe on Earth. I understand why he needed to go and stay away from Rory. I do. I get it. But it doesn't make it hurt any less that he spent so so long alone in Hell again. That Chloe had to raise Rory on her own. That Lucifer didn't get to be there for Chloe while she was pregnant, didn't get to see Rory be born, didn't get to be there for her first or watch her grow. And he wanted to be there soooooo badly. It hurts to think about. Does he at least get visits from Amenadiel during this time? Does he get to visit with everyone else, Chloe even, if Rory doesn't know about it? Does he get to know how they're doing? Do they all talk about Lucifer and say they miss him and hope he's okay? Does he get to go up to Heaven occasionally and visit Dan and Charlotte and his siblings? He and Chloe sacrificed so much, Lucifer literally giving up EVERYTHING, so that they're daughter would find her peace. I hate this. It hurts so much.

That's about it I guess. I'm pretty satisfied with everything else.

Oh here are some of my headcanons I use to ease the pain in heart (which turns out both Ildy and Joe all but confirmed after I thought of them but before I could post them. So yay for that!):

Lucifer did stop by and visit Earth during those years as long as he was sure Rory wouldn't find out. A few minutes here and there to see Linda and Charlie, Maze and Eve, and if he could, a few moments with Chloe. Maybe sent notes or stole a few minutes alone with her. All that matter was Rory not knowing it. And if that really couldn't happen then....

Amenadiel visits his brother all the time. He tells him about his family in Earth. How they're doing, what they've been up to, if they're safe happy and healthy. He tells him all about chloe and rory and  brings tons of photos so even though he can't be there in person, he still knows how their lives are.

After Chloe dies and joins him in hell they occassionally take vacations. Now, chloe can't go to earth cause she's dead but they can go to heaven. So they vacation there. Lucifer flies her up and they visit with their family and then have beach days or dance or whatever their heart desires until they go back. Maybe they all have a party together.

Lux is now a part of Hell and is where they live happily together. Since he has control over hell loops he made one into Lux.

After Chloe dies, Rory flies to be with her family in hell as well and she and Lucifer spend eons making up for the time they both missed out on.

Rory and Lucifer go to Earth and check in on Trixie all the time.

Deckerstar spend an eternity happy, helping people work through their guilt and move on to Heaven.

[physicalturian]

Why don’t you listen to me? Law x GN! Reader - Part 7

Spoilers for : Punk Hazard and Dressrosa arcs [No gender used for the reader, no physical description, everyone is +18] Words : 6649 Archive of our own Blood, exhaustion, fighting, violence, despair, blood, intimacy, stupidity, innuendos If you feel like I should put more warnings, send me a DM or an ask … Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

How could he be alive? How could he be there, watching the fight? How did he make it? I felt relief course through my body just from seeing his angry face. He seemed fine, if not better than last time I had seen him. My heart started beating faster in my chest, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes but instead of crying, I went past my limits and focused hard enough to teleport to that roof. I almost did not make it, for my focus was definitely not there, no matter how hard I claimed it to be.

 When my knees hit the ground, I looked up towards Law, and he stared right back at me, frowning.

I covered my mouth and stood up really quick, stumbling the few steps that separated us before falling to my knees once more and pulling him into a hug. I held him so tight, I think he had to hit my back gently to ask me to calm down. I loosened my hold just a little bit but did not lean away. If I did, I’d see his face and if I saw his face, I’d break down. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, very confused. I tried to come up with the words but knew that no matter what I’d say, I would cry. Remembering what I saw was enough to make me sick and sad.

 “Your arm… it’s back…” I said against his shoulder as I moved my hand over it. He winced and said he still needed some time before doing anything crazy. I hummed but did not move.

“Can you let me go?” Law grunted. I could, but did I want to? I felt like if I let him out of my sight again, he’d be gone for good. I was scared, I was mortified, I did not want to let him go, I thought as I leaned back and looked away. “Sorry.” I mumbled before standing up. I could feel the tears coming back, I asked him to give me a minute and he took that time to watch over Luffy and Rebecca who were still in the middle of the fight.

 I moved to the edge of the roof and looked over it too, watching when Law brought Rebecca to us and seeing the defeat of Doflamingo against Luffy. I said I saw it all, but all of it was behind a filter of tears and short breaths. I was trying to get a hold of myself but I couldn’t, I was dead tired, I couldn’t keep the façade up anymore. I was grateful when no one came up to me, I needed to let it all out.

 When Luffy got shambled back to us, both women went to check up on him. I wiped the tears from my face and patted my cheeks to hype myself before making my way to Law. He seemed exhausted, but relieved too. In a small voice, I asked, “Are you relieved?” Looking at him, I felt self-aware. How long was staring too much? Could I keep looking at him until I had to go? Could I take a good look at all his features until I had enough? What was the right amount of time someone took, looking at someone else’s eyes before it’s creepy? I wondered…

 He shrugged and leaned back on the wall, finally opening his eyes after seemingly dozing off, sitting. “There is still much more that needs to be done-“ He stopped mid-sentence and stared at me in awe before grabbing my hand a pulling me down. “What happened to you?! How are you in a worse state than- stop moving!” I tried to pry his hands off my face but while he was out of breath and tired, he still had energy to be a doctor. And a doctor he’d be.

“To be honest, I’m past the point of feeling anything.” I stated, letting my hand fall to my side when he shooed them once more. Telling me that being a brat was not going to help. I think my cheeks heated up when he said that, but I could put it on the countless wounds I had.

 “Do you think it’s something to be proud of?” He asked, touching something on my forehead that made me wince.

“I survived, did I not?” I asked rhetorically.

“You wouldn’t have had to survive if you had stayed on the ship-“ I pushed him away from me and sighed loudly. How long could he repeat the same thing over and over again? He was going to speak again, probably offended that I cut him off, but I spoke up.

“I get it, okay?! I should have listened, but I didn’t and now it’s all over!” I said a bit too strongly. “Seeing you die in front of me was enough of a punishment, I don’t need to feel worse than I do right now. If you want to keep telling me I’m an idiot, do that once I’m rested because I’m this fucking close to do something I’ll regret. Alright Captain?”

 He stood there, silent. I repeated my words over in my head and regretted them instantly. Fortunately, we were told to move before he could reply. We were to be guided to Kyros’ house, where we could rest. I was going to get up and hurry away from Law when he caught me and slipped my arm over his shoulder. “Don’t overdo it. Lean on me.”

Huffing, I did as he asked. Not talking.

He chuckled and I felt his hand tighten around my arm and waist, “This, you listen to, uh?”

I felt my face burn up and I looked away, “Who am I to ignore my doctor’s advice?” I said quickly as we followed everyone. “Yours?” I heard him wonder softly.

 Facing him quickly, I stuttered, “I mean- mine like, like you’re not Chopper, you’re the Heart Pirates’-“ “I’m kidding, relax…” I felt my heart lighten. For some reason, having him being playful was reassuring. I called it playful but it was more teasing than anything else, not that I minded.

 We walked a long while before reaching the house where some medical equipment was waiting for us. Those who were in better shape took care of those in worse states, Law took care of the hunk blonde man he brought back from the castle. It took a lot of time, during that time I was dosing off outside, looking at the field of flowers that was expending in front of me. There were groans inside, but once it all calmed down, Law left the house and closed the door behind himself before plopping down in front of me.

 I did not look at him, too lost in my thoughts and perhaps hoping he’d just take care of my wounds without talking. But he did not stay silent.

“I’ll do what I can, but I’ll probably have to take another look once we’re off this Island.” He explained. I kept my gaze off of him. “Look at me.” He ordered. I clenched my jaw and stared straight ahead, not looking at him. Sure, we joked once, but I was still not over his constant repetition of how bad my choices were. I thought I was feeling better but now that we were alone once more, the heaviness in my chest was back and I was trying very hard not to jump him. I wanted to feel him close, I needed him. “I said, look at me.” He grumbled, grabbing my jaw and making me face him.

 I was met with his surprised expression, he let the hand that was holding tweezers hit his knee. “Why are you crying? Does it hurt that bad?” He asked.

I chuckled and wiped the tears, taking a deep breath to calm down. “It hurts yeah, but like not- not physically. I mean, yeah it also hurts everywhere but-“ “Is it about the thing you said?” I grabbed his hand and got it off my face, to look anywhere but at him.

“Yes. Yes, it is. But just, just doctor me. Forget what I said.”

 Moving his hand to my forehead, he didn’t warn me and pulled out a shard of glass from my forehead. “I can do both, talk.” He stated, throwing the shard to the ground.

“I said what I said, what more can I say-“

“Don’t play with me, just because I’m a doctor doesn’t mean I won’t do everything to get you to talk.” He punctuated his words by grabbing my hand and rolling my sleeve without much care then he started cleaning the wounds. I winced and tried to pull back but he only held me stronger.

 “I thought you had died. I saw when… I saw your arm get cut off, then I heard your screams-“ I paused and gulped, feeling a knot forming in my throat. I hissed again when he pressed the alcohol on my wounds before moving to my other arm where the knife wound was.

“Continue, I’m not finished, neither are you.”

Scoffing, I did as he asked. “I thought I’d check your vivre card, but it was gone and then the gunshots…”

“When did those happen, then?” He moved his hands from checking my knife wound to opening my hands and checking the side, with which I had hit the ground, hard.

 “I think the knife wound is a bit more important here, Law-“

“How? I’ll treat everything, just tell me how you did it.” He insisted.

“Well, how did you get your arm back? I saw it get cut right off, and I don’t see you talking about it-“ “Leo sewed it back on and the Tontatta princess healed it. Your turn now.”

I did not know how to say it without just telling him how heartbroken it made me to know he was gone. How desperate I was and how much I wanted to cry. I was not going to tell him any of that, I had to find something- “And be honest.” Fuck him…

 “I just… I hit the ground, I kept hitting the ground. Over and over again. That was my first reaction, along tears and… yeah, I was just… I-“ I pulled one of my hand from his and wiped the tears again before leaning against the wall, looking at the sky instead of him. “I’m so relieved you’re alive. You were right, I was so fucking useless out there.” I said in a weak voice. He didn’t warn me when he started sewing shut the huge knife wound, I gasped and looked down where his fingers were working diligently.

 “I didn’t say that, I said you should stay on the ship-“

I cut him off, feeling a bit annoyed, “Underlying statement being I was weak, wasn’t it?”

He sighed and kept working on my arm, “Not at all, you keep getting things wrong.”

“Keep getting things wrong? I wouldn’t get things wrong if you were clear, Law.”

“I didn’t tell you to leave my crew, let’s start there.” He huffed, cutting the thread he used to put sutures. Then he moved and did the same on the bleeding wound on my forehead.

“Well then, here is what you did do is: you did call me stupid, and you did give me an ultimatum.” He exhaled loudly once more, this time I could feel his breath hitting my face from how close he was looking at his work.

 In a low tone, he whispered, “You weren’t supposed to take it.”

“What do you mean?” I was confused.

“You were supposed to choose the crew over this stupid fight, I know how much you like the crew. I thought it’d make you stay.” He explained, this time a bit clearer. I tried to look at him from under his hand, but couldn’t really see him. I could however feel the needle stinging my skin. I could also feel the exasperation building up inside me.

“It was not ‘the crew or the fight’ to me it was ‘the crew or your life’, yours, Law. Your fucking life. I just couldn’t bear losing you if you decided to sacrifice your own life.”

 He stopped moving, then cut the thread before looking at me, frowning. “Why would you choose my life over the crew?”

“Because I made a god damn promise to Bepo! Because you were ready to die out there! Because I needed to make sure I could do something about you not dying- which I failed by the way. But also because I-“ meeting his eyes, I stopped and laughed at myself before shaking my head. I did not continue, nor did he. He was frozen on the spot.

 “Because what?” he asked.

I chuckled and shrugged. “Why were you so intended to keep me on the ship, Law?”

He sighed, probably ready to ask me once more what I was not ready to tell him. Instead, he started wrapping bandages around my arms. “You can’t fight. I need to remedy that.” “I know I can’t fight, but I can still be useful.”

He chuckled and met my gaze, smiling. “Tell me, what kind of Captain would I be if I sent my crew out there without them being able to fence for themselves?” I shrugged.

 “I was worried. While you are useful, in many ways, I knew this was going to need fighting more than helping. But you insisted, and insisted. I had to make you stay, to avoid….” He gave me once over, “This.” He nodded at my pitiful state.

“It’s not your fault-“

“Yes, it is. I couldn’t watch over you, I was too focused on taking him down.”

“And you wouldn’t have had to watch over me if I didn’t come…” I argued back, earning a short laugh from the fruit-user.

“You wouldn’t have come if you did not feel the urge to protect me from my…” Cutting him off, I huffed a laugh, “Tendencies to prioritize the mission over your own life?” He laughed and nodded, I liked seeing him smile again even if it was a small one.

 We stayed silent for a moment, until he was done wrapping the bandaged around my arms and making sure it held. “I should have listened to you…” I mumbled.

“You should have.”

“But I don’t regret not doing it.” I said softly.

He breathed my name in a warning tone, before continuing, “Don’t do it again. Look at you, look at all the damage you took-“ he paused he looked at me frowning, “Why did you come to Punk Hazard?”

I choked on my saliva at the mention of the beginning of it all, of my desperate attempt to keep an eye on him. He leaned over, making me lean back and hit the wall. I gasped at the pain in my back but try to cover it with a short chuckle. “I told you, I was worried.”

“Penguin was worried. Shachi was worried, Bepo too, but I don’t see any of them here.” Because they’re not in love with you… I am… But I didn’t reply. He sighed and asked me to turn around and take off the clothes that were covering my back.

“It’s nothing, just bruises. We should go sleep.” I could feel my blood pumping, my hands getting cold and yet sweaty. If I stayed here any longer, I’d do something I’ll regret.

 He lost his patience and said my name in a way that half scared me, half turned me on. So, I followed his order and turned around, taking off everything that was in the way before slumping over my knees and keeping the clothes close to my front. I made sure my hair was out of the way too.

“It’s-“ I felt his slender fingers brush over my back and felt a shiver run down my spine but did not say anything. With how delicately he was touching me, it did not hurt, if anything it felt like a caress. So, I closed my eyes, humming.

“You have cuts, and bruises everywhere. It’s not small ones, they’ll take a while to heal- What happened to you?”

 “Do you want the truth?” “Yes, I never want you to lie to me no matter how intended you are on keeping things for me, dear-” I heard him clear his throat before starting working on my back. Did I hear him right? Did he call me dear? No, I must be tired, projecting even…

 “Mingo did not like it when I jumped on him, twice if I may add. He slammed me into the ground, very angrily, both times.” I tried to shrug but Law had placed a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. Turning my head to the side, I had his hand right next to it. I contemplated doing something, looking over his tattoos and gentle hands. It felt intimate for some reason, not just a doctor and a patient. Thinking, fuck it I did a thing I’d regret and leaned over just lightly, planting a kiss on the back of his hand before looking back ahead.

 I felt his hand tightened right there. I thought he’d move it away but instead he moved it closer to my neck, his thumb brushing my skin ever so lightly. “Why would you jump on his back in the first place? I would scold you but I’m curious…”

“Yeah, well- he was going to shoot you so I jumped him but he dealt with me just as fast as he put… as he… you know, shot you….” I paused a moment, enjoying his palm placed on my back as he put bandages on it. Then I remembered I was talking, and continued, “The second time, I tried to distract him so that he’d let go of Viola and Rebecca, as you can see, it did not go well. I don’t regret any of those things though, in the end everyone’s fine, right?”

 I heard him chuckle then pack up the medical stuff before asking me to help wrapping bandages around my form. When we were done, he softly said, “It looks like when I’m not around you’re a wild animal,” I then felt his forehead against the back of my head then his lips grazing the nape of my neck, he slid his hands to rest them over my shoulders, pressing the pad of his thumb like a massage. I wanted to tense, startled by the touch, but instead I melted into it. I let my head lean back against his, then I felt his lips press against my skin I turned around, to meet his eyes in shock. That’s when he realized what he had done and quickly stepped away, swearing under his breath. “It’s done, get dressed. Go rest.” He said quickly, grabbing the supplies from the ground before standing up.

 “Hey, don’t leave!” I never dressed so fast, in seconds I was standing up and grabbed his shoulder to stop him. Calling his name, he did not pay attention, “Ignore what I did, it was inappropriate. Avoid sleeping on your back and-“ “Law! Why don’t you listen to me? Stop packing your shit, stay.”

He shrugged my hand of his shoulder and turned his back on me. I felt a twinge, I felt sick, I felt hopeful too, but all together I felt weird. A knot in my stomach, why had he said that? Why was he trying to throw it under the rug?

 “Why did you follow me to Punk Hazard?” He asked while turning around, staring down at me with a scowl. I did not want to be asked this right away, I knew full well why, I was worried yes but it’s because I did not want to lose him, because I could not bear through the pain of seeing him die if he ever did.

 I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it and looked to the side. Could I trust my mouth right now? Could I even form words? I was embarrassed, panicking and my blood was pumping so hard I was sure he could hear it too. I let out a shaky breath, laughing nervously. “I… you…” how to say it? Did I really want to say it? If he was asking, he must know, right?

 He exhaled loudly and rested his sword against the wall, for a second I thought he was going to leave but instead he put the supplies on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. I stared at the bandage around his biceps, that’s where it had been sliced, I could still hear his screams- “I, what?” He inquired.

Shaking my thoughts clear, I met his gaze for a second but could not look at him longer than that, I never did that. I did not know how to do it, I just felt out of place. How did one confess to their Captain?

 Letting out a nervous chuckle, I pushed him away and gave him the best smile I could muster. I was not going to tell that I loved him, nor that I needed him alive, I had to keep this professional. When- no, if he rejected me, it’d be awkward. “I told you, I was worried,” I said. It made him sigh as he moved to grab his stuff once more. “I’m not used to having a Captain that lets his crew behind to do, you know… Pirate stuff. Usually, it’s all of us or none-”

“It’s called being careful. I have to be careful enough for the both of us, considering how prone you are to getting in dangerous situations.” He hissed, grabbing my arm as an emphasis for his words.

 I scoffed, trying to pull my arm away from his hold but he kept his hand tight around it. “And maybe I wouldn’t have to leave you behind, if I could trust you.” He finished, before squeezing his hand tightly then letting go.

For a moment, I realized how bad words could hurt. I felt a pang in my chest but kept my expression calm. He shouldn’t know how much it hurt me, he should know that I’m strong and reliable.

And yet, when I stared at him, all my voice could muster was, “You don’t trust me?” I trusted him, why did he not trust me?

 His face contorted in a pained expression for a second, then he huffed. “Just tell me why you followed me to Punk Hazard, I need to know.” His tone was strained, but I was not ready yet. I wanted to be honest, I did, but seeing him right now… I thought back on my plan of telling him, and just sighed. “No, you’re right. You shouldn’t trust me, I could be a surgeon that takes people’s heart out of their chest and be known to just murderer people, that would be hard to trust-“

“Fine, so be it. If you want to play that game, let’s go back inside.” He did not even give me time to reply that he stepped back inside.

 While scolding myself internally, I followed him; I discretely reached out for his coat to stop him but stopped mid-way and shook my head once more. Stop this, what if he doesn’t trust you? He made it abundantly clear when he told you, you were stupid and that he did not need you. Shove it all away and don’t do anything rash. We went our separate ways, he laid on the ground, using his sword as a pillow which mustn’t have been comfortable. And yet he fell asleep just as soon as he hit the ground.

 I would have suggested him to sleep with me like we did back on the ship, but there was this growing tension between us. I thought it’d have disappeared after his almost death, but it was ever present.

 At some point during the night, Sabo came in to check up on Luffy. I was not as surprised by learning they were brothers, as his crew was. They seemed caught off guard, but it didn’t stop them from welcoming him. I only half-paid attention to his story, my focus was solely on the wounded man on the ground. Why was he so insistent in wanting to know why I followed him to Punk Hazard, I told him many times one of the main reasons why I did he but he was pushing.

 Making sure my back was off the wall, I brought my knees to my chest and crossed my elbows on it, resting my head too. The bandages were a bit too tight around my sternum, but I ignored it. While Law called himself my Captain again, and so did I earlier, I still did not think I was welcomed back. I should listen to him and leave but at the same time… at the same time it was perhaps just my fear of doing something I’d regret that kept me from going back to him.

 I couldn’t wake him up now, so I’d have to wait until morning to talk about it again but… perhaps I should follow Sanji’s advice and talk like adults. Yeah, talk like adults but also keep not telling him the truth, you know, like an adult. Fucking idiot. Huffing, I kept myself on high-alert but tried to get some rest nonetheless.

 While the Straw-Hat crew seemed nice, I did not spend enough time with them to know if I could let my guard down. Even on the Polar Tang I almost begged to get one solo, even if very small, room to myself. In the end I managed to have one shared with Bepo, but it was mostly just me since Law requested him to sleep with him on rougher nights. But those nights came in more recently, at least before Punk Hazard. Perhaps was it because he was thinking about this revengeful plan, he had concocted to get rid of Doflamingo? Perhaps it took the dust off some old memories that he would have been keen on forgetting.

 Whichever it was, I think he was glad that this very night he did not have nightmares. Or maybe he did not sleep at all, like I did, only half-asleep but still very much aware of what surrounded us.

 When we woke up in the morning, the Samurais brought food. I managed to sneak and get some for myself and Law, dropping it in front of him before going through the door without a word. I’m sure he wasn’t he a mood to talk, but I was not in a mood to see him sulking around either. So, I sat outside and watched the flower field.

 I did not know how long I stood there, but I could feel my whole body was on fire. The adrenaline from last night had worn off and I had a hard time going around, which is why I stayed seated on the ground and did not venture to the centre of town. Even when I heard the Princess was helping the injured one, but when I heard wind of it, I also heard the mention of the Marine. While I wanted to get some of my pain alleviated, it was not worth the risk of crossing path with the Marines.

 Hearing the ruckus inside, I had guessed they heard it too, and were probably deciding on what to do.

 Soon after, I heard the door open along soft footsteps before being nudged on the shoulder by something solid. Looking at it, it was the tip of a sheathed sword, Law’s. “Is it time to go?”

“Yes, get up we’re leaving.” He grunted, handing me a hand.

Taking it, I hissed and was ready to follow the others when he gripped my wrist. “Stay close to me, don’t wander off and keep running, no matter what. Are we clear?”

“Yeah sure, let’s go.” Before I could go, he pulled me once more and gritted through his teeth, “It’s a yes or no question, are we clear?”

It’s alright, it’s okay, don’t react. He’s on edge, it’s okay. With as much frustration as him, I smiled, “Yes, sir.” His frown disappeared and confusion struck his features, then I rushed to the front and joined everyone when they started running.

 I was out of breath pretty easily; I suppose I should maybe work on my stamina and combat skills when I’m back with the crew. Perhaps Penguin would help me, I’m definitely not asking Law since he’s being a bitch. Or maybe it was because of the bandages…

 As we ran, I realized we had lost Luffy. I stumbled a bit at the realization but got brought back to the front by Law who pulled me once more, telling me to hurry up.

 Rolling my eyes, I would have teleported to the front to show off if we weren’t being shot at. The only thing protecting us being the huge shield, Bartolomeo was holding up, or as he called it: barrière.

 But it did not matter, I could keep up, I was in automatic mode the entire time. That is, until I saw Law take a turn.

 “Oh, no. He’s not doing this right now.” I said to myself while following him. When I teleported to the street he had turned to, I felt an arm pressed right under my neck. It disappeared off of me just as fast and I was left, a hand on my neck as I looked at Law in confusion.

 “I told you to not wander off, why are you here!” He exclaimed in frustration.

“It’s not wandering off, I’m just following you at this point-“

“Don’t do that! Don’t play on words, go back to- fuck they’re too far now.” He groaned after checking the streets before looking back at me with his usual frown. “Why did you follow me?”

“Well, it’s called the buddy system. You’re not going anywhere alone, the only person who’s allowed to do that is Luffy because he can make friends easily.” I said casually, leaning against the wall. As I did, I felt the stinging pain in my back but ignored it, before continuing with my underlying statement, “You, however, cannot make friends for shit. I’m the buddy here.”

 Law sighed loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. After a few seconds, he held out his hand, “Follow me, but when I tell you to hide, you hide. I’ll be nearby.”

Hesitantly, I took his hand. Sure, it was for guidance, but it still felt nice to touch him in a non-medical way, for the very few times I did. We ran towards an unknown direction; it was unknown until I saw there was one Marine sitting on the rumbles. He wasn’t ready to attack, and nearby was seated a big monkey. A gorilla? An orangutan? I didn’t know, it was definitely a primate. With a gesture of his hand, Law signalled me to stop and hide, which I did. I let my bum hit the ground a bit too strongly, but it felt nice to rest. My muscles were on fire, my lungs were threatening to come out of my mouth and my wounds had probably opened again, the sewing must have been shitty for it to happen.

 Placing my head against the wall, I tried to calm my beating heart to eavesdrop the conversation that was happening. No, no, don’t do that, it’s his life. Don’t do that, I told myself before bringing my fingers to my ears and trying my best to muffle everything. It wasn’t hard considering the loud crashing sounds that were happening in the distance. Stones flying in the sky, gathering to a huge one, I think I saw Luffy there too.

 My arms were starting to tire, if they weren’t enough already from the gashes on it. But I sighed, and gulped. It muffled the sound even more, I had to fake a yawn to undo it but kept my gaze ahead of me to not get caught off guard.

 Without sound, I felt like I had no notion of time. It was strange to say that, but I felt like it had been ages since Law had left. The moment I had that thought, something nudged my shoulder. I gasped and moved my hands from my ears, looking at it and seeing Law with a scowl.

 Feeling like he was going to ask, I used his sword as lever to get myself up and groaned, “I covered my ears. I promise I didn’t hear your conversation with the Marine, no matter how suspicious this is.” His only reply was a scoff at first, then he pulled the sword and me with it, catching my bicep before I could fall.

“Don’t grab my sword like that, it’s not meant for that-“ “I don’t see you handing me a hand when my wounded ass is on the ground, chief.” I scoffed, letting of his sword with a huff.

 “You have the worst attitude. I don’t have time to deal with you right now, let’s go.” He motioned with a curt of his head before starting running towards the huge ball of debris in the sky. I suppose it made sense to run towards the most frightening thing on the island right now. If that was there, it meant they were trying to block our way, which meant the port was that way.

 But the call that is ‘running towards danger’ never ended well, no matter who initiated it. And yet, here I was, keeping my mouth shut and running behind him without complaining.

 It might be a lie; I may have complained a bit about the utter pain that I was feeling all over my body but he was pretty good at ignoring it and just told me to keep going. “You seem fine for someone who lost an arm, I should have asked Minsh- Manshi… the princess to heal me, too.” I said out of breath, now running right next to Law.

 I almost tripped when he laughed at my struggle and simply corrected me, “Manshelly.”

 Chuckling I shrugged, or tried to, it was hard to do while running. “Yeah well, let’s Manshe-leave so that you can take proper care of me.” Was I pouting? It took me a bit of time to realize what I had said, it sounded like I was a brat in need of attention when all I meant was that he did a poor job last night.

 Which I was not going to tell him.

 He chuckled once more and was about to reply when he put his arm in front of me and stopped me dead in my track. With a huff, I placed my hand on his arm to balance myself and looked ahead where stood our allies. “We’re there, stay by my side.”

“You’re the one who wanders off, not me. You don’t need to tell me twice-“ He cut me off,

“No, I need to repeat it countless more times,” He sighed as we hurried to joined the rest of the people. Looking over at me, he smirked, “Maybe the princess could have healed your hardness of hearing, that would have been a gift-“

“I’m not deaf Law, it’s called selective hearing. It’s necessary when you keep repeating the same shit over and over, you know?” There was a bit too much animosity in my words, but it was too late. They were out now.

 Once we had joined everyone and waited for Luffy’s fight to be over, Law continued. “The same shit? Do you mean: the orders you can’t seem to take?”

“Hey, I can take a lot, ok? But I already told you, your orders were bullshit. Not all the time, but sometimes.” I paused and raised a finger, “And I followed all yours orders up until now, just not the stupid ones so… I’m great at this, really.”

He sighed loudly, “If you’re so great, why do I feel like putting you on a leash is the only way to keep you still when I tell you to stay back.”

 I turned around and faced him in pure awe, and slight embarrassment. Why did I kind of like what he said? No, no, don’t think that… They say to carve every word before letting it fall, but I just spurt pure raw unthought words, “And I feel like chaining you down is the only way to keep you out of danger, oh- wait no, sorry you can manage getting tied up just fine, especially when the enemy-“

 “Alright! Both of you, please, stop with the flirting. It’s annoying, it’s definitely something that needs to be talked about in private and above all,” Cavendish covered his eyes in emphasis for his next words before dramatically saying, “It’s truly painful to see, goodness…”

 After hearing the blonde’s words, I felt my face flame up and looked away from both of them, clearing my throat. I did not mention his use of the word flirting and simply waited for the ‘go’ before starting sprinting towards the huge ships that awaited us at the port.

 I dared throw a glance at Law while running, he seemed deep in thought. Maybe I should apologize, I don’t even know why I said any of this. I don’t mind his orders, they make sense, I’m just an idiot. I can’t tell him that though, it’d be too gratifying for him… No, he wouldn’t be satisfied by that… Even so, I had to find an excuse as of why I spoke so heatedly instead of staying compose like I usually am. Looks like shoving it all way is starting to have consequences I don’t like…

 Focusing on the task at hand, we all ran to the ships and, thanks to Luffy, reached the said ships in one piece instead of all ending up at the bottom of the ocean. Maybe not all of us would have drowned, but fruit users definitely would have.

 Lots of people returned to their own ships, but it looked like the most important fighters decided to join the one on which we had all gathered along the Straw-Hat crew. When they started talking about pleading allegiance to Luffy, I snuck off and wandered about the inside of the huge ship. “I should probably find a change of bandages, I can smell the iron-y smell from here, yikes.” I said to myself. Talking to myself eased the eerie feeling of being alone inside an empty ship. Yes, people were on deck, probably feasting at this point, but inside it was empty.

 No number of loud laughs could help with that ghost-like sensation of being alone in an unknown place. I felt out of place but kept searching until I found a pretty well stocked infirmary.

 Closing the door behind me, the room was muffled. There wasn’t any sound except the creaking of the wood, and for a moment there, it felt peaceful. I stood against the door an unknown amount of time before pushing myself off the wooden door and making my way to the bed.

 Taking off my shoes, I sat on the bed and patted the pillows a bit, humming to help with the lack of sound in the room. “If they’re partying, I could nap… I sure … as hell mmm need some… of that nice…” Sleep. I couldn’t help my eyelids from closing and my brain going in pass out mode. I felt my body relax and very slowly, I let myself drift off to an uncomfortable but perhaps restful sleep.

[Part 8]

[genevievemd]

A Change in Status - Part 2

A/N: Hello fam jam, here’s part two, MC’s POV. The “date” and relationship talk. Super fluffy, will give you cavities. This also may have turned into their first ILY’s. Which I did not plan on when I wrote part one, but these two are so ridiculously in love with each other that I couldn’t help myself.

Also I can’t tell you how overwhelmed I am by all of your comments and support. This is such a lovely and supportive fandom and I’m so grateful that you’ve all welcomed me with open arms. You’re the best, truly.

Part One

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Genevieve McClure)

The car ride to Ethan’s apartment is quiet. He’s holding her hand, placing featherlight kisses to her knuckles at every red light. She likes their contented quiet, it feels domestic and safe. Like there’s no need for words because they already know what the other will say. They pull into the parking lot of his building and Ethan gets out to open the car door for her. He takes her hand again as they walk into the lobby and she can’t help but look down and smile. 

He’s been more affectionate, publicly, as of late. No longer hesitant to take her hand or kiss her softly in a crowded room. It’s as if something has shifted in the time between the gala and now. Like he’s no longer afraid of his feelings and what that means for him, and for her.

Genevieve wraps herself around him once they get into the elevator, resting her head over his heart. Their height difference makes it so easy for her to tuck herself securely into his side. Like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place. She likes the feeling of being fully immersed in him, like two souls coming together to form one. She’s never had this with anyone before, never been this deeply in love. 

It’s both exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. 

“Are you going to stay the night?” Ethan’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, his ocean blue eyes looking down at her as his hand continues it’s path up and down her back. 

“You mean after you cook me dinner?” 

“Yes.”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Genevieve smirks as the elevator dings, walking backwards out of the open doors, “You’re not tired of me yet?” She gives him a teasing glance before strutting down the hall towards his front door. 

She squeals in surprise when he comes up behind her, pulling her back against him as they continue the rest of the way to his apartment. “I don’t think I could ever tire of you, Rookie.” His whisper against her ear sends shivers down her spine. He is entirely too good at making her feel weak in the knees with just one word. Ethan releases her from his grasp when they get to the door, pulling the keys from his pocket.

“I don’t know, Ramsey, I can be quite the handful and you are getting old.” Genevieve giggles, watching as Ethan opens the front and turns to face her. 

She can see he’s trying to hide his amusement, keep up his façade of the ever exasperated Dr. Ethan Ramsey. But he fails miserably, breaking into a laugh as he pushes her through the doorway. “Get in the damn apartment, will you?” 

“Oooh, have I hit a nerve? I know you hate it when I bring up your age. But I only state the facts, you know.” Genevieve laughs, watching as he shakes his head before closing the door and turning on the lights.

“Keep it up and I won’t make you dinner.” He grabs her hand, guiding her into the kitchen. 

“Liar.” She kisses his cheek before kicking off her shoes and hopping up onto the island counter, “So, what are you gracing my taste buds with tonight? Fancy chicken? Fancy pasta? Fancy something else?” 

“Not everything I cook for you is fancy, you’re aware of that, yes?” Ethan puts down the large pot that's in his hands and comes to stand in front of her, placing his hands on the counter.

“I’m sorry, Babe, but no. Everything you cook for me is fancy. It has to be, to go with the fancy wine or the fancy scotch, depends on your mood.” He’s giving her that all too familiar smirk and Genevieve takes advantage of the fact that they are, for once, practically at the same height and leans forward to kiss him. She wraps her legs around his waist, feeling him chuckle against her lips and it makes her smile. She wants more of this, their banter, their flirting, their make out sessions against or on various pieces of furniture around his apartment. It makes her happy, happier than anything has before. “Speaking of the fancy wine,” She breaks the kiss, delighted in the way he grunts his frustration when she lets him go. “Do we still have some left from the other day?” 

Ethan laughs loudly, rolling his eyes at her as he returns to the task of making dinner. “It’s in the fridge, right where you left it.”

Genevieve hops off the counter, grabbing the wine and two glasses. “Nope, If I remember correctly I think I left it by the side of the tub and you put it away before we went to bed. See, you are getting old, your memory is failing.” She pours them both a glass, laughing as he tries his hardest to be annoyed with her. “Okay, Master Chef, what are you making?” She climbs back up onto the island, taking a long sip of wine. 

“How about spaghetti?” He’s pulling ingredients from the cupboard and she may not be able to see his face, but Genevieve knows he’s smirking like the devil.

She narrows her eyes at him and purses her lips, “Are you just making that because I said everything you cook is fancy and now you have to prove a point that not everything you make for me is, like, 5-Star status?” 

“Absolutely.” He turns and kisses her forehead before placing the pot of water on the stove.

They fall into easy silence again and Genevieve takes full advantage of her view. She loves watching him cook, the way he moves around the kitchen, the way his shoulders relax and it looks like ten different weights have been lifted. It’s a side of Ethan that most don’t get to see, something reserved for the people he cares for most: Alan, Naveen, and herself. 

It amazes her at times, how far they really have come in just two years. He’s slowly gone from her medical inspiration, to her mentor, to her friend, to her -

Her breath catches and it suddenly dawns on her that she has absolutely no idea what they even are. They’ve never talked about it, not even in the chaos of Edenbrook and the prospect of being separated by hours and miles and possibly states. 

The idea of a life without Ethan terrifies her, makes her chest tight and her eyes water. Genevieve shifts her gaze down to the glass in her hand, willing her mind to remain in the present and not dwell on the what if’s of their uncertain future. She’s here in his kitchen, he’s cooking her dinner, she’ll more than likely spend the night and nothing else should matter. 

“I have a question,” the words fly out of her mouth before her mind has time to process the Pandora’s Box she’s about to open. Genevieve bits her lip, feeling like her world could quite possibly implode in the next 10 seconds. 

“What is it?” 

She looks up at the sound of his voice. He’s leaning against the counter across from her and it’s clear that all of his attention is now solely on her.

“What are we?” Ethan looks startled by her question and she worries she’s setting herself up to be heartbroken but presses on. There’s no going back, no possible way she could ask anything else now. Genevieve closes her eyes to settle herself, taking a deep breath before she takes the plunge. “We’ve never really had the talk, you know? And I...I need to know if this is a real relationship or just like a casual ‘biding our time before the hospital closes’ thing. Because I…” She looks away from him, hopping off the counter and effectively out of the safety of his presence. It’s too much to be in his gravity and say what she needs to say. “I care about you a lot, like a lot, a lot. And I need to know. Are we in a relationship? Like a legit boyfriend/girlfriend, sleep at each other's places and go on dates and meet my parents and fall in love with each other kind of relationship? You call me ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ and it feels like we’re dating. This feels like the real thing, but we’ve never talked about it. We kind of just float around and do whatever. Which is fine, I guess. But. I need to know. Are we in an actual relationship?” She’s not aware she’s pacing until she feels Ethan’s hands on her shoulders, stopping her dead in her tracks. 

“Where is this coming from?” He tilts his head in question at her, his face full of confusion, concern and also love - though she’s only half certain on the last one, it's sometimes hard to tell if he truly loves her.

“Just answer my question.” 

“Rookie,” Ethan raises a brow at her and she has to look away again. It feels like he’s looking right into her soul, like he’s reading her mind and it terrifies her.

“Just answer the question, Ethan, please.” She knows she looks like a pleading mess. Throwing her heart on the floor in front of him and praying he picks it up. 

He takes her face in his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks, looking at her like she hung the moon and maybe she was wrong to worry.

Ethan takes a long pause before he says a word, his eyes roaming across her face as if he’s trying to commit every little detail to memory. “We are in a relationship. I apologize if I hadn’t made that explicitly clear from the start. But, yes, Genevieve, I am your boyfriend. Even if that sounds ridiculously juvenile, the sentiment remains the same. I’m in this, completely, with you.” 

She smiles widely, sighing heavily as her worries melt away with the pressure of Ethan’s lips on hers. They stay that way for a long moment, his hands traveling from her face to her back, pulling her into the safety of his embrace. Finally he lets her go, giving her one last gentle kiss to her cheek before he returns to plating their now, very, late dinner. Genevieve moves to the kitchen table, watching as he walks over and places both her dish and glass of wine in front of her before turning back to the counter to grab his own. She feels calmer, lighter, the knowledge that they are, in fact, in a legitimate relationship lifting every weight off her shoulders. Even the ones she wasn’t aware of until tonight. 

“And for the record, though I have yet to meet your parents, I think we are well past the ‘falling in love’ part, don’t you?” Ethan says it so casually that Genevieve almost chokes on her wine. And then she watches as he freezes, like he just realized what he’s said out loud. He slowly places the dinnerware on the counter and it feels like time has stopped.

They sit there in silence for what feels like centuries, his back to her at one end of the room and her in a chair at the other. They’re breathing heavily, anxiety and nerves taking over them both. 

She’s fairly certain he’s almost uttered that life changing sentence more than once over the last 8 months and here she is again, holding her breath and waiting on the man in front of her. 

She’d wait a thousand years if she had to. He’s worth it. 

Genevieve stares at his back until she can’t take it anymore, needing the deafening silence to break. “Ethan,” it comes out as a whisper, afraid to speak any louder for fear of scaring him farther away than he already, physically, is. 

He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before wiping his hands on the dish towel. Taking one long moment before he turns to her, walking across the kitchen until they’re only a few inches apart. His eyes are soft and his smile pure but still, no part of her is prepared for what he says next. 

“I love you, Genevieve.” Ethan kneels down in front of her, brushing the hair away from her face. The sheer intensity of his gaze makes it feel like he’s sucked all the air out of her lungs. No one has ever looked at her like that before, like their entire universe starts and ends with her. “I think I fell in love with you somewhere between you handing me that chocolate bar and finding out you were joining the diagnostics team. Though I didn’t admit it to myself until I was fighting to save your life.” He gives her the softest of smiles and it feels like she’s melting into the floor. “So to reiterate my answer to your earlier question: we are together and I’m in this, wholeheartedly, for the long haul. No running, no pushing you away. I’m not letting you go. Not if I have a choice. You’re a colossal pain in the ass, but I am in love with you, Genevieve, and I have been for a long time.” 

“You love me?” She’s practically breathless and completely unaware that she’s started to cry until Ethan wipes the tears away from her eyes. 

“Yes,” His voice is barely above a whisper and the tears well in her eyes again. Ethan places one hand on her cheek and the other at the nape of her neck, pulling her forward until their foreheads touch and their lips are inches apart. “I love you, more than I ever imagined I could.”  

“I love you, too, Ethan.” It feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest until he finally kisses her. Deeply, passionately, so intensely that she feels like her whole world has been thrown off kilter. She gathers enough strength to wrap her arms around his neck, practically falling into his lap and onto the floor. 

She can feel tears running down her cheek, uncertain of whether they are hers or his or both combined.

They pull apart after what feels like hours, lips swollen and breath shallow, the food on the table long since forgotten. Genevieve rests her forehead against his and sighs. She knows he’s looking at her, but she keeps her eyes closed, wanting to stay in this exact moment for the rest of her life. It feels like all the pieces of her heart have fallen into place and she never wants it to go away. She loves him and he loves and no matter what happens next, they will face it together. 

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Taglist: 

@queencarb, @overwhelminglyaquarius, @me-and-my-choices, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @crazy-loca-blog, @a-crepusculo, @drakewalkerfantasy, @ohchoices, @adrex04, @udishaman

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[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read into Me Chapter 4: North and South

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 4,753

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, i reference the plot of Wuthering Heights and that has some icky stuff in it idk what to tag that though

Author’s Note: How’re you guys liking the series so far? I’m really enjoying it, I’d love to hear what you guys think, good or bad! Also, is over 4k too much for you guys? I used to strive to hit that mark when I first started but the fandom’s changed so much, I feel like an old fart lmao

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @wolfish-willow​ @scoopsohboi​ @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @unusuallchild @alwaysstressedout @linkispink1995​ @asharpkniffe​ @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @mochminnie​ @used-avocado​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​

You didn’t hear from Steve after that, save for him returning your essay with minimal markings and a graded ‘A’ on the top. He’d gone back to his people as quickly as he’d left them, letting Vicki talk his ear off from across the aisle. You didn’t mind too much, her voice was grating on the ear, but her hair was pretty and she actually seemed to ask him questions. You didn’t know why it mattered to you that she seemed genuinely interested in Steve, but you decided that he deserved someone who cared enough to know him. Everyone deserved someone who cared enough to know them. Tina just talked about herself for the whole class when everyone was supposed to be discussing the book at hand, Wuthering Heights, and it got very annoying. You just filled out your discussion questions and did your best to be invisible. No one seemed to notice except for Mr. Lawrence, who’d scolded you twice now for not participating in group discussions.

“I know that you know this stuff, but I can’t give you participation points if you don’t participate with others.” He handed you back your discussion sheet for chapter four. You’d gotten everything right; Mr. Lawrence was lobbing low balls at the class to try to get them to read the book. You didn’t change your tune; you didn’t want to talk to your peers. It didn’t matter anyway, no matter what you said to them you’d still write down the same answers and get the same grade.

You didn’t hear much about your failings to participate after he handed back your first essays. You weren’t surprised that you’d gotten a low ‘A’ on the paper; you hadn’t tried that hard on it. You noted that he’d given you a good grade on your editing, which Mr. Lawrence noted on the page that he could count it for your participation for the class, since you did so well with it. You couldn’t complain because it was a decent way to pass.

When the bell rang, you made your usual break for it, excited to be on your free period and free to sit in the sun for the afternoon. Tracy Lords was in Samantha’s gym class and with the weather so lovely they’d do class outside, giving you a chance to work on front profiles with her flat, pretty features.

Steve was dreading getting his paper back. He didn’t trust himself to get a decent grade and even with your help he was certain he’d pull above a ‘D’. Mr. Lawrence always handed out pairs face down, so no one got their grades till they were ready to flip over the page. This was the moment that he always dreaded. He found that it was easiest to rip it off like a Band-Aid, just flip it and see so it can be over. He never read comments, he just needed to know if he failed, but the bright red writing on the top of the page caught his eye immediately-‘I’m impressed, Mr. Harrington’ with a 81 percent seeping through to the back of the page. He stared at the grade until the bell rang, unsure if it was even real, if he was even awake. Once he woke up from his beautiful dream, he knew he had one thing to do.

He burst in the hallway like a golden retriever out an open gate, searching for you without really knowing where to begin. He spotted you at your locker. “Y/N!” he called. You flinched, your shoulders hunching into your neck. You could feel people looking at you, which turned you beet red, almost purple, from embarrassment. You didn’t move from your space, hoping that the tile under you would pull back into a trap door and make you disappear from the scene. It didn’t, of course, and Steve found you quickly.

“Look at this!” he held up his paper to you, beaming like a child. You looked at the paper slowly, taking in the grade and the note at the top of the page, then his face.

“Oh…that’s great.” You said, unsure how to really respond. How was supposed to respond to someone else’s B?

Steve didn’t take in your uncertainty, continuing on “Thank you,” he said earnestly, lowering his voice to add “This is probably the best grade I’ve ever gotten in that class.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in how you’d helped him out. Usually, the only people around that you could help was your grandparents with chores or Samantha with getting out of her house for an afternoon and while you enjoyed helping them out, you didn’t get the same joy from it, having done it for so long. Helping Steve made you feel full in a way.

Tommy Hanson had been trying to call the new kid, Billy, over to him when he saw the whole scene go down. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit. There was a hierarchy to Hawkins, rules to follow until you graduated and either solidified your choices or moved the hell out. Steve was popular, the home town hero, the sports star. That kind of power was not something to throw away on a little nobody. Tommy wished he could be that popular, to have that sort of accessibility and he got close when he kept his friends in the right station. Steve had already fucked up once, that little Nancy Wheeler bitch had already demoted him from sex god to weepy heartbroken sad boy, but that was still working for him. And he needed his backup plan to still be cool.

Tommy stalked up to Steve, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Hey, dude, come over here, Stefanie Tomlinson’s panties are showing, you’ve gotta see this shit.” He whispered at him, loud enough to make you cringe and look away, turning back to your books and the stickers on your locker door.

“Dude, don’t be gross.” Steve said, turning his attention back to you “Like I said, thanks for the help.” Tommy kept trying to pull him away, but Steve was taller than him and harder to move around.

“Yeah, like I said, no biggie.” You kept your gaze firmly locked on your locker door. You refused to be mocked by Tommy Hanson. He practically pulled Steve away from you, looking you over with a sneer as they walked off. Tommy didn’t like you, which you already knew. It wasn’t easy for him to hide his hatred in a small town. You didn’t know why, but he’d always been like this, ever since you were kids. He used to push you into the mud and chase you off the swings in elementary school. Since you’d grown up, his cruelty had mostly subsided, but the animosity remained, especially after your mother had threatened his family with albeit an unrelated law suit, which succeeded in getting the whole family away from yours. That was the last helpful thing your mother had done for you.

Tommy kept his arm locked around his friend’s shoulders, escorting him away from potential social suicide. Steve held up his arms in defeat, laughing all the way. “Come on dude, she’s not anything to waste your time on.” Tommy said in a voice loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough to seem like a whisper.

You shrunk in place, unable to pull your eyes away from the scene, a silent plea echoing in your mind for him to look back if he wasn’t a dick head like Tommy, left unspoken but felt in the depths of your soul. You didn’t know why it hurt you as badly as it had; you knew in your head that he no better than his friends. But your heart had hoped that he was different, that he could be better than him. You turned away before it hurt too badly, collecting your books in your arms and rushing off towards your spare period, hoping to find a bit of quiet to recover from what you’d just experienced.

Steve turned back to see you walking away, his laughter dying in his throat, what Tommy said bouncing around his mind. As soon as Tommy released him, he smacked the freckle faced boy hard in the ribs. “Can you try to not be a dick for five minutes?” he asked, getting a laugh out of Carol, who’d been filing her nails without much interest in the whole thing.

“What? Who gives a shit about her?” Tommy asked, doubling back with his hand on his chest.

“She’s a nice girl, dude, don’t be an asshole.” Steve replied sternly. That piqued Carol’s attention. She turned up from her chipped red nails to look Steve over with a discerning eye.

“Oh god, don’t tell me that you’re trying to bring in another Wheeler type chick into this.” She groaned, brushing away a strand of red hair from her cheek.

“Jesus Christ…” Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose “I don’t know what Nance did to you, but you need to calm down on that crap.”

“But you’re not dating her, right?” Tommy asked.

“Dude, all she did was help me with an assignment, that’s all.” Steve groaned. He felt like a dick, being so dismissive of you, he did like you, but he didn’t really even know you and neither did his friends. He didn’t like anyone assuming who he was or wasn’t with, and yet he still felt like a shithead. He didn’t know why but he did.

When you came home from school, your grandmother was waiting for you by the front door, red plaid kitchen rag draped on her shoulder, apron hanging low on her hips. “Your mother called when you were at school, wanted to see how you were.” She said, wiping her hands on the apron. She shook her head, obviously annoyed at the thought of her absent daughter.

“What’d you tell her?” you asked, kicking off your sneakers and putting them back onto the rack. You didn’t hide your distaste in your mother’s asking about you.

“That you were at school and to call back for you later. She told me to tell you that she’d be back in June and that she was bringing back someone special.” Your grandmother replied, turning back into the kitchen to return to whatever she was making. Your grandfather was passed out on the couch, his snores emanating from the living room almost comforting to you as you trekked up the stairs. You knew that your mother wouldn’t call again for you. She could never remember to call you at a time when you might be at home. She certainly wouldn’t be able to remember to call back.

Before you could even set your bag down, the phone on your desk blared from your desk. Samantha was at soccer practise, so you didn’t believe it was for you, but with your grandmother busy in the kitchen and your grandfather passed out, you grabbed the phone, asking “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Steve,” from his own room, Steve had thought about talking to you again for most of the day, but he’d only found the confidence what the day was over and he was home, where he didn’t have to look at you to speak to you. “I’m sorry if Tommy was weird to you today, he’s an idiot.”

You frowned, brow furrowing “It’s cool, no worries…” you replied. You didn’t feel like explaining how you already knew how much of an idiot he was.

“Yeah, so I was kind of wondering…if you’re not busy…would you mind maybe helping me with the readings? I don’t get this shit at all.” He chuckled awkwardly. In truth he’d had no plan to actually read the novel they’d been assigned, that’s what Cliff’s Notes was for, but he wanted to be around you more, so if homework was a reason to get to be around, then he’d actually read.

“Um…sure, I guess I could.” You didn’t really know what the right answer was for you. You weren’t sure that you trusted him, especially after what had happened that afternoon with Tommy, but your gut told you to say yes.

“Great! What’re you doing right now? Could you meet me somewhere, the reading for the tenth chapter is due tomorrow and I don’t even know what’s happening.” He felt a tad desperate, which was not a feeling he was used to around girls.

“I mean…where would you wanna meet?” anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck. You tried to wipe it away like sweat, but it was stuck to your brainstem.

“You could come over to my place or like I could meet you at the library or something.” Steve didn’t exactly have an answer to that one, he wasn’t even sure he’d get this far. He looked around his messy room, wondering if he’d made the right choice.

You didn’t exactly want to be in his house, but you didn’t have a car and it would take you forever to walk back into town to get to the public library. With a heavy heart, you accepted your unfortunate fate. “I could come over to your place.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut. You hoped that he wasn’t going to take that the wrong way.

“Yeah?” Steve hoped the panic wasn’t evident in his voice. His mother was still out of town and his father spent more time at his office in Carmel then he spent at home as it was. He’d let the mess pile up a bit and he didn’t want to look disgusting.

“Yeah, sure.” You tried to sound casual, but your blood had run cold and your hands had gone clammy. You gripped the receiver far too tightly, your eyes shifting around your room.

“Alright, cool, yeah cool…” Steve said, trying to sound casual “How long do you think it would take to get here?”

“I mean…you still drive the rust coloured BMW, right?” you asked, pulling your curtains back to peer out your window.

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

“I can see your house from my window, I’ll be there in like a minute.” You said.

Steve’s head turned upward, looking around worriedly. He bid his goodbyes quickly, turning his full attention to his messy bed and dirty floor, trying to get every pair of boxers laying on the floor into a basket. He hadn’t expected you to agree to come to his house, and his stomach churned at the idea of freaking you out. He didn’t want to scare you away because he was messy and gross.

You felt as if you’d swallowed your tongue. You rushed for the door, uttering a quick goodbye to your grandparents and pulling your backpack straps tight on your back. It was only five feet away. Five feet. Cross the street and up the driveway and you’re there. You took in a deep breath through your nose and took the first tripping step down your driveway, your body not co-operating with your mind and trying to escape where you were trying to bring it. You needed to calm down, your palms were starting to sweat and your knees had turned to Jell-O. You stopped in the middle of the empty street, huffing out another breath, trying to remind yourself that nothing could hurt you over there. That you could handle anything thrown at you.

Somehow, you made it to the front door without blacking out. You went to knock on the door, but it opened before you made contact. Steve looked frazzled, his hair flopping into his eyes, his expression panicked. “You’re here!” he said, his body blocking the doorframe.

“Am I not supposed to be?” you asked, your hand coming to clutch the top of your opposite arm.

“Nah, nah you are I just-never mind. I’m going crazy I think, come on in.” Steve stuttered, moving his arm out of the way, letting you inside. He didn’t know why he was nervous, he was never nervous to have a girl over. But you weren’t like the usual girls he would invite to hang out by his pool.

You stepped into his house cautiously, entering the dark space like it was a well-preserved colonial mansion. The Harrington household was cold. Everything was navy blue, steely grey, and white. He’d left the lights off in the entryway and the kitchen, although the lights above the grey brick fireplace were on, three white pot lights lighting the whole space. It made his house look ominous. Nobody was around either, you knew that Steve was an only child, but in your house your grandparents were always milling around; sound and voices were everywhere. Steve’s house was silent. The white vertical blinds were left open, and you could see the pool outside, which hadn’t been cleaned yet that day. The carpeting throughout the downstairs muffled your footsteps, adding to the eerie silence.  Overall, the house looked expensive. They had all the latest technology and aesthetically the house was very stylish, it made you want to not touch anything in fear of breaking something. You shivered involuntarily, letting your eyes wander around the house, taking in the massive TV and the matching stereo. All his money didn’t make the space feel like home.

“My stuff’s just upstairs.” Steve pointed a thumb up the stairwell by the front door. You hadn’t realized that you’d wandered out of the foyer and into his house. You swallowed, nodding hard and bounding up the steps ahead of him. You noticed that there weren’t any photographs around the house. That felt a bit homier to you; your grandmother kept most of the photos in intricate albums, only keeping a singular family photograph on the mantle of the white tiled fireplace. That felt a bit right to you, that it really was a home and not a showcase home.

Steve’s bedroom was also blue and dark. His walls were dark blue plaid, with matching curtains. The colour was only broken up by a few posters and a floating bookshelf, which held a couple small trophies and a couple books held between black metal bookstands. His bedspread was a navy quilt,  and his desk was dark wood and heavy looking. The signs of childhood were clear in the plaid wallpaper and curtains, clearly still remaining from a younger life. But beyond it, the room lacked a bit of personality. The only signs of life were the full laundry hamper and the papers on his desk. Everything else in the room could be in anyone’s room. It looked like a guest room or a hotel room. You dropped your bag on the grey carpeting, unsure where to put yourself in the space. Steve was much more casual, pulling out his desk chair and taking a seat, gesturing for you to sit across from him on the bed. You did so, sitting gingerly on the wrinkled bedspread. It was strange to sit on a boy’s bed, much less it be Steve Harrington’s bed.  

“Alright, um…where to begin?” you asked, more to yourself than him. “I guess we should go over what happened in the chapter, yeah?”

“Yeah sure…” Steve replied, picking up his copy of the novel, flipping it open to the chapter. “Uh…so the main chick is in love with Heath and she loves him and they all live happily ever after?”

“That’s…not the plot of either this chapter or the novel.” You said slowly, not looking down to flip your own copy of the book to the marked chapter.

“I mean…that’s what I got from the Kate Bush song.” Steve muttered awkwardly.

“So, you haven’t read the book? Like nothing at all?” you asked. Steve shook his head. “Cliff’s Notes then?” you guessed, looking back to the shelf to see a few of the black and yellow striped covers of the versions of Little Women, Robinson Crusoe, and King Lear. You’d used the reference guides yourself, albeit not as a replacement for the novels themselves.

“You got me…” Steve muttered. He felt like an idiot. It had only taken a minute for him to get caught in his fib.

“Then what’d you need me for?” you replied, setting your book down on the bed next to you, looking him over carefully. Cliff’s Notes would cover everything he needed, they’d answer the questions for him.

“Look…I’m shit at this stuff. I don’t get it. I don’t get why we’re reading this, the book is so boring, even the notes are boring!” he groaned.

“The book is shit.�� You replied, deadpan. “Mr. Lawrence is having us read it because it’s one of like three books the county mandates that we read and they gave us Robinson Crusoe last year.”

“What am I supposed to get from it then if he doesn’t even like it?” Steve chuckled, turning to address you fully.

“Well…it’s a tortured love story.” Steve raised an eyebrow at you. You pressed on “Catherine and Heathcliff are in love, but because Heathcliff’s of a lower station than her, they can never be together. And even though Catherine marries someone else she can’t bear life without him.”

“Aren’t they like siblings or something?” Steve’s lip curled upwards in a disgusted expression.

“Adopted siblings and if Emily Bronte doesn’t think it’s weird then we have to ignore it.” You explained with a shrug. You leaned back on your palms, kicking your feet casually. With the windows open, his room was warm and sunny. It faced the woods behind his side of the road, and they looked beautiful from up near the treetops. You’d heard the rumours of Jonathan Byers taking photos of little Nancy Wheeler on the same bed you sat on from the woods. It made you feel icky at the time and uncomfortable now. You didn’t like the idea that anyone could be watching you.

“Then what is Kate Bush singing about? She makes it sound like they get together.” Steve asked. He watched you with a careful eye, his nerves making it hard to even try to catch your eye. You seemed happy, calmer too, and your hair was catching the sunlight from his window, making a pretty crown of light around your head.

“I mean…Catherine dies trying to return to Heathcliff across the moors, Kate Bush is like being her ghost, trying to come back to her love from beyond the grave.” You said simply. Steve pulled out his notebook, the questions written out in wide, square letters. He quickly began scribbling down what you’d said. He pulled out his copy of the Cliff’s Notes and flipped to chapter ten, filling out the questions. You wondered if you should stay or go, but Steve’s profile was partially shaded by the angle he sat at, and the way his jaw jutted out made him look like the statue of David. You slowly pulled out your sketchbook and flipped to a new page. Graphite in hand, you slowly began drawing out his sharp, angular jaw and strong neck.

“So, when did you find the time to read the whole book?” he asked; only briefly looking up from his notes to look at you. Your hair was still pulled up in the bun you’d put it in that morning and your gaze was focused on whatever was behind that heavy looking spiral bound pad.

“It was on, like, the seventh grade summer reading list.” You replied, not looking up. You could feel his eyes on you and the copy of lips weren’t matching the real life counterpart. You pulled your lip between your teeth, using your thumb to blend out a thin line.

“You remembered all that from middle school?” Steve asked.

“Well…I mean the book is kind of weird. Like, it doesn’t make sense, the narrator keeps changing and the speaker isn’t always made known. It was really hard to read, but the story itself was pretty run of the mill. I don’t really get why we have to read it at all…” You explained quietly, switching to a piece of charcoal to add thin, textured lines to the lower lip.

“It’s really shit, eh?” Steve chuckled, turning his attention back to the thin book. “Who’s Isabella again?”

“It is crap. And Isabella’s Catherine’s sister-in-law. She has a crush on Heathcliff, you can write on that, that’s revealed in this chapter.” You explained. You didn’t blame Steve for not understanding the book, you absolutely hated the book when you read it the first time and it was by no means an easy read.

“She’s in love with him, but he’s in love with Catherine?” Steve was scribbling fast, writing down whatever you said.

“Yes and Catherine’s in love with Heathcliff but married Mr. Linton for status.” You replied. Steve and you worked in silence for awhile. Mr. Lawrence expected answers in full sentences and provide reasoning for everything you sourced. Meanwhile, you set a high standard for your art. While you didn’t expect perfection from yourself, you wanted to try to do good work, even just for yourself.

You’d never drawn Steve Harrington before. You’d done pictures of tons of your classmates, Steve just never seemed like someone who needed to be drawn. He had tons of people looking at him and praising him all the time, to his face and behind his back. He seemed like a little celebrity in Hawkins, but sitting on his head, with the sun hitting half of his face and making pretty shadows in the hollows of his face, you saw the small beauty in his features. You knew that he was attractive, that was a universal truth, but now sat on his bed alone in his room, you understood that he really was beautiful. Maybe not on the inside, you didn’t know if he was a truly good person, but on the outside he was golden. Your hands demanded to recreate his features. You felt as though you were carving one of Greek gods of Hawkins high, the best of the town’s beauty.

Steve finished his work soon after and looked to you with a lopsided grin. “I say, and you can totally disagree, that we work better together than apart.” He said triumphantly, jabbing the cap onto his pen.

You looked up with a smirk from your drawing. It was nearly done and you weren’t mad at the work either. It certainly looked like Steve and the shadows were intriguing.  It would’ve made a better painting, but the little sketch was nothing to sneeze at. “I mean, you certainly do.” You replied easily. Steve chuckled, you weren’t wrong; he knew that you were much smarter than him.

“But sure, if you need the help then I’ll help. No big deal.” The words left your mouth before you’d thought them through. But they were true. Despite not knowing him, despite being freaked out by every phone call and conversation, you found yourself still coming back. Your mind was pulled in two very different directions, between adrenaline laced panic that made your hands go clammy and shake and genuine curiosity and intrigue.

Steve couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. He was certain that you’d already on the porch steps, running towards your house as fast as you could. Something in his gut told him not to expect anything. But you agreed. He broke into a lopsided grin, brushing a piece of long brown hair out of his eyes. “Cool, yeah, that’d be great! So, I’ll call you?” he asked tentatively, trying to still give you an out to his own request.

“You already know the number.” You smirked, a yellow sticky note catching your eye. You could see your name and number written in Steve’s wide handwriting stuck to the wall in front of his desk. It made you smile, the small detail of him even looking you up made you laugh. You’d been across the street from him your whole life, but him trying to find you made you strangely happy. You gathered up your things quickly, heading back across the street as another car came into his driveway, an immaculately made up woman in the front seat. She didn’t look you in the face as you passed, focusing on the opening garage door in front of her. You made a mad dash for your house. Everything felt…calm. Strangely calm. You didn’t know if you liked it.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 13: Paper And Ink]

A/N: Can I just take a second to say how happy I am to see all of your reactions to my little fic?! I have never been a super popular writer on Tumblr but I like to think that I have some of the cleverest, kindest, most thoughtful readers around. Your support for and emotional investment in my stories makes me so, so, so happy. Please enjoy this latest chapter...it’s the longest one yet! 💜

Also, MAJOR shout out to @writerxinthedark​ and her constant insanely astute observations!! Girl, I’m shook. Do you have ESP or what...? 👀

Chapter summary: Roger tries to reach a compromise, John tries to offer solace, Chrissie tries out some retro science, Y/N tries to process some alarming new information.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language! Discussion of substance abuse! Babies! Drama! Angst!!!

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“You can’t leave,” John pleads. One of his hands—strong, nimble, a gold band on his wedding finger—is clutching the wooden bedpost. Chrissie paces back and forth beside him, gnawing her thumbnail until it bleeds, silent tears streaking down her ruddy cheeks.

You throw your open suitcase onto the bed and start yanking things out of drawers: panties and bras—the practical ones, not the sexy ones, I won’t be needing those in the immediate future—jeans, velvet dresses, sweaters, socks, mittens, scarves. It’ll be cold in Boston. “I’m going home.”

“Love, please...” Chrissie sobs.

“I’m not staying here.” Your voice is surprisingly steady, resolved even. “I’m not going to stay in this house with him. I’m not going to follow him around the world watching him fuck other women and humiliate me in tabloids. I’m done, I’m going home.”

“You have a contract with the record company, you’re the tour nurse!” Chrissie protests. “Jesus christ, they could sue you for non-performance! When does the band leave, a week from now?!”

“Six days,” John says softly.

“Six days!” Chrissie shouts at you.

“I’m not going. They can sue me, that’s fine.” I don’t have any money anyway. None that’s actually mine.

“You can’t leave,” John says again. His greyish eyes are wide and restless, desperate; you didn’t know it was possible for him to be this agitated. He’s not Queen’s unflappable bassist today.

“Yeah? Observe.” You pick the pink conch shell up off the dresser—the one John found for you on the beach in Ostia, during a tour that feels like a lifetime ago—and tuck it gently into a corner of your suitcase where it will be cushioned by knit sweaters. “John, I have a bunch of your sketches downstairs. There’re some on the refrigerator, some framed in the living room, a couple on the dining room walls...will you go get those for me, please? I can’t leave without them.”

John just stares at you, blinking and thunderstruck.

Next to the empty space on the dresser where the conch shell once lived is the Canon F-1. You consider the camera for a moment, then snatch it up and move to hurl it out of the second-story window.

John jolts out of his paralysis. “No no no no, I think you’ll regret that.” He gently pries the Canon out of your grasp and places it back on the dresser.

“What the hell are you going to do in Boston?!” Chrissie wails. “All your friends are here now! Your life is here!”

“I’m going to get a job at the hospital and marry some boring, predictable man and get a house with a white picket fence and fill it with two exceptionally average children”—if I can have them, and that’s a big if as it turns out—“and a golden retriever and live out the rest of my days in blissful, prosaic anonymity. Thanks for asking.”

“Oh come on, you don’t want that!” Chrissie snaps. “You’ve never wanted that, that’s why you came to London with the band to begin with!”

“I don’t want to feel like this!” you scream, and all those tears you didn’t know you were biting back start spilling out in hot, torrential streams. Your breath hitches; your throat burns. Like wildfire. John pulls you to his chest, murmurs that everything will be okay, cradles the back of your head with his palm. You know he’s exchanging a glance with Chrissie over your shoulder. That’s why she brought him here, after all; to help talk you off the ledge, to help convince you to stay.

“What a fucking mess,” Chrissie says in despair.

“It’s my fault,” you choke out.

“It’s not,” John whispers.

“It is,” you insist bitterly, sobbing into him. “Everyone warned me and I ignored it because I’m a complete idiot and now I’ve gone and ruined my life.”

“You don’t have to go!” Chrissie implores. “You can stay here. With us, with me and John and Mary and Freddie and Brian. You have British citizenship, you can get a job at a hospital in London if you really want to leave the band. You can stay with me and Bri for as long as you need to until you’re back on your feet, or with Freddie...they’d give you any amount of money you needed to get started...they’d be heartbroken if you left, love, you’ve been there for them through everything, since Queen was just a bunch of nobodies, since we were all flat broke...they’re never going to forget that loyalty you showed them, that faith. They’d do anything to repay you.”

You sigh shakily as you untangle yourself from John and wipe your eyes. “If I stay here, I’ll spend the rest of my life dodging Roger at birthday parties and holidays and restaurants. And being known as the wife he fucked around on. I’ll be a pitiful mess of a person. They had a photo of me in the News Of The World, did you know that? A tiny little circular photo under a huge, glamorous one of Dominique. ‘Look everyone, check out the dashing rock star’s sad, pathetic, unremarkable, soon-to-be-ex-wife. Surely you can appreciate why he’d shop around.’”

“Yes, I saw that part,” Chrissie says softly. She understands some of what you’re feeling, surely, and yet she must also have a sensation of gratefulness; plenty of musicians wander like tornadoes, touching down and sowing chaos wherever their compulsions take them, but few wives have the misfortune of seeing their names and faces paraded through the tabloids. Suddenly, Chrissie isn’t the most-wronged wife in Queen anymore.

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh god. My parents might even hear about this. They could be buying wine and Cheetos at the grocery store and see my husband and his girlfriend on the cover of a magazine in the checkout line.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chrissie replies, her voice hoarse. John crosses his arms over his chest and says nothing; but he kicks the wooden bedframe hard enough to send a crack down the center of the footboard.

Downstairs, you hear the front door open. Chrissie and John whirl to you, panicked.

“Hey, love of my life!” Roger’s chipper voice vaults up the staircase. Someone hasn’t checked the headlines yet. “Baby? You home?”

“Do you want me to stay?” John asks you.

“No, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ll stay for as long as you want me to. I’ll hide in the goddamn bushes outside the window if that would be helpful.”

“No, John.” You smile and climb onto your toes to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, to hug him goodbye. He’s warm and comfortable and sheltering. He feels more like home than this house ever has, isn’t that strange? And for a second, just one, you wonder what your life would look like if there had been no Veronica, no Roger.

You’d still be in Boston, you idiot, you chastise yourself. You never would have come to London with Queen if it wasn’t for Roger. And You’re My Best Friend wasn’t about you.

“Thank you,” you tell John. “But I have to do this part myself.”

“Okay. Don’t you dare go cart yourself off to Heathrow without telling me first, alright?”

“Sure,” you say, not meaning it. I can’t let him stop me.

“Good luck,” Chrissie frets, wringing her hands, twirling her wedding ring. “Call me, okay? I’m going to be a nervous wreck until I hear from you. I’ll chew my poor fingers to the bone.”

“I’ll call. I promise.”

“Hey baby!” Roger materializes in the bedroom doorway, pushes his prescription sunglasses up into his windswept blond hair, peers around the room at you and John and Chrissie. And you’re suddenly reminded of how a room changes when Roger walks into it, how everything shifts somehow, becomes brighter, more alive, brimming with magnificent potential; how cavernously empty the world would feel without him in it. Chrissie glares at him with her arms crossed, nostrils flaring, tapping one fashionable riding boot against the hardwood floor. “Uhhhh...am I interrupting something?”

“Bye, love.” Chrissie kisses you quickly on each cheek and breezes out of the room. You hear her boots clopping as she descends down the staircase. After a moment, John follows her.

“You despicable prick,” John hisses as he passes Roger in the doorway.

Roger is mystified. “Baby, what’s going on?” His eyes flick to the hastily packed suitcase, to the cracked footboard. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

There are so many ways to ask the same question. When did you decide that you needed to have her? Who is she to you? How could you do this to me? What did she give you that I couldn’t? Instead, what you ask him this: “Have you seen the News Of The World today?”

His brow furrows into deep grooves. “No...” But something primal flashes in his vivid blue eyes, just briefly. Something like fear. He knows he’s done things that would hurt me. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unearth them all.

You grab the magazine off the bed and hurl it at him. Roger picks it up off the floor and flips to the front page. His shoulders slump, one hand comes up to cover his mouth, he exhales in a deep sigh; his whole body shifts the same way a room does when he walks out of it: dims, deflates, goes bloodless. He calmly lays the News Of The World on the dresser, folds his sunglasses and sets them down as well, rubs his eyes with the heels of his calloused hands. Then he turns to you.

He’s going to deny it, you think, revolted. He’s going to deny it just like Brian did, try to patch things up in some weak and gutless way, placate me so he can drift off to sleep at night imagining he’s a good husband.  

But Roger isn’t Brian. He never has been.

He asks you quietly, in surrender: “What do you want to know?”

Your stomach plunges into freefall, because this is real. Maybe there was some part of me that was hoping this was a mistake, some naïve and hopeful sliver of idealism left over from childhood, from a time when everything in the world was either good or evil and nothing lived in the treacherous shadows in between. “How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Roger, it matters.”

“Not long.” He waves a hand glibly. “She...ah...well she thought I was pretty maddening at first. It took her a while to come around to the idea.”

You flinch like you’ve been slapped. “Jesus christ, Roger. Thank you, that’s great, thank you for that information.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he protests, exasperated. “I’m really not, I don’t...I just don’t...bloody hell, I don’t know how to do this.”

“To do what? To fuck around?! Obviously that’s inaccurate—”

“No, to confess!” he shouts. “I never confess, I never admit it, I just avoid or deflect or deny it, and when that doesn’t work anymore I just walk out because usually I don’t care enough to have the conversation. But now I do so I’m really, really trying to give you what you want. I thought you wanted answers. So ask me whatever you want to and I’ll tell you the truth.”

Everyone lies. Everyone disappoints you. I knew that, I really did...but somehow I let him convince me that I didn’t. That he was built of nothing but light. “Do you love her?”

“No,” he replies instantly. “It’s a fling, that’s all.”

“So you didn’t corner her somewhere and tell her that you’re planning on breaking up with me.”

Roger winces. I wasn’t going to end up like Josephine, that was the first promise I made to myself on British soil. And look where I am now. “No. Never.”

“Why, Roger?”

He looks away, runs his hands through his hair; he genuinely doesn’t know how to answer.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you even sorry...?”

He speaks carefully, purposefully. “I’m sorry you had to find out, that you were hurt by it. And I’m really fucking sorry about that headline. Discretion is extremely important to me. I never would have let that happen, but you know...” He shrugs, smirking guiltily in that disarmingly bewitching way that he does. Stop, you warn yourself, feeling something in you grasping for reasons to stay. “I haven’t been thinking especially clearly lately.”

“Yes, between the coke and the drinking and the pills you’re quite the disaster, aren’t you?” Scalding tears slither down your face. “So you’re not sorry you did it. You’re not sorry that you’re an addict or a cheater.”

“It’s not about that. It’s...” He searches for the words like premonitions in tea leaves. “Yes, there are drugs and parties and women. There are a lot of those things. But I’m not addicted to any of them. I’m addicted to being Roger Taylor, drummer of one of the best bands in the world. It’s everything I am, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be. I never want to live in a world where that’s not who I am anymore. You understand that, what it’s like to feel caged and miserable, you know what it’s like to want to experience things. And so if it takes coke and pills to get up on that stage every night and drum under those blinding lights until it feels like my arm is split open again, okay, no problem, I’ll do it. If women are a part of the lifestyle, a part of being free, then I’ll take advantage of that. And why the fuck does it matter? Why do so many people think that fidelity is the ultimate manifestation of love? Plenty of faithful people hate each other. Plenty of people who screw around are irretrievably in love with one person, are fucking owned by them. I love you. I want to come home to you. I want to raise my children with you if that’s a possibility, and if it’s not then fine, whatever, I’m gonna love you all the same. You’re still on my list, Boston babe. You’re always going to be on my list. Why isn’t that enough?”

“John doesn’t cheat,” you object helplessly. Even if he has all the reasons in the world to.

“No, he doesn’t. But he’s a very different kind of man. A better one, probably. But you’ve always known who I was. And I never promised you an ordinary life.”

You shake your head, hide your face in your hands, can’t force the words to leave your trembling lips. It’s not enough for me. Maybe I thought it could be, but it’s just not.

Roger says, gently: “I know we said the marriage didn’t mean anything”—yes, that was your condition, wasn’t it?—“but that’s not completely true. It’s not just paper and ink. It does mean something. It means that you’re the person I want to take care of, the person I can rely on to provide for my family and friends if something ever happened to me. It means that I love and trust you in a way that is unconditional. That you’re my best friend.”

“I don’t want to live like this, Roger,” you whisper.

“So what’s next?” he demands. “So you’re going to take that suitcase and run back to the States and...what, get a job at the same hospital you were so desperate to escape from? Back out of the tour? Abandon the band and the friends you have here?”

“If that’s what it takes to get away from you.”

For the first time, you hurt him; you really hurt him. You see it ripple across his face like cold, swirling ocean waves. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already decided, Roger.”

“Come on, baby, please, we can work this out—”

“I’m not interested.” You zip the suitcase closed, heave it off the bed, and drag it towards the door.

“So even if we can’t work it out,” Roger erupts, bolting to the doorway, to stand between you and whatever a life after him looks like. “Don’t leave the band. Leave me, just me, but not the band. I know you don’t want to leave them. I know they’ll be devastated if you disappear, not to mention they might legitimately murder me over it. Bri can be a twat, sure, but he’s convinced you saved his life. You and I might be the only people on the whole fucking planet who can see how brilliant John is, who understand him. Freddie’s convinced you’re some kind of good luck charm, you know how superstitious he is, he’ll start having those meltdowns again where he insists he can’t sing five minutes before a show and that the band is doomed, the tour will be a complete disaster. We need you. And I want you to keep the job you love, the travel, the mansion, the money, I want you to have all of it. You’ve earned it. You shouldn’t lose it because of me.”

And as you clutch the handle of your suitcase, your mind dashing from one logistical step to the next—grab my passport and some cash out of the safe, collect all of John’s sketches, call a cab to take me to Heathrow—you start remembering things. But you don’t see them like flashes, like misty reveries, no; you feel them like heat from a roaring fireplace, like Mediterranean pebbles digging into the wrinkled soles of your feet, like the deafening screams of crowds filling the Rainbow Theater, the Hammersmith Odeon, the Apollo, the Budokan, Madison Square Garden. Memories of excavating shards of glass from John’s hand in a New Orleans mansion crawling with fantasies and nightmares, of toasting pink champagne in the lobby of the Chelsea Register Office, of museums and parks and beaches and apartments filled with threadbare couches and extravagant dreams, of Christmases and New Year’s Eves, of Roger convincing you to come to London with Queen on a June morning in 1974, cradling your face in his rough hands, promising you everything you’ve ever wanted: ‘Love...Accept. The fucking. Offer.’ And you could run to the other side of the world, sure; but you’re never going to be able to carve those memories out of your bones.

You let go of the suitcase, and Roger’s smile lights up his face like the sun.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Careful...careful, love...” Roger contorts himself to keep the umbrella over you and the Boston cream pie you’re carrying as rain pours out of a sinister grey sky. You both hurry beneath the roof that covers the front porch and ring the doorbell. Freddie answers wearing a tight green shirt, jeans, and an enormous toothy grin.

“Oh, for me?” he squeals, eyeing the pie.

You step inside as Roger stays out on the porch to shake off the umbrella and finish his cigarette; Chrissie hates people smoking in her house, and one should get what they want on their birthday. “Obviously, it’s for Chris. But I suspect she’ll share.”

Chrissie appears in a blue dress, her wide-set pale eyes alight as she gazes at the pie. “At last! I finally get to try one of these! And yes, Freddie, I’m only going to have the teeniest tiniest piece, so there will be more than enough to go around.” She embraces you and takes the pie. “Is this homemade?! It is, isn’t it?”

“Happy birthday, Chrissie,” you announce with a tired smile. Queen leaves for the News Of The World Tour in two days. You’re leaving with them, to everyone’s palpable relief; Freddie and Brian have never mentioned the headline to you, but they know about it of course. Everybody knows. It’s an elephant in every room, an ancient beast that quakes the floor when it walks.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy,” Chrissie tells you. “I always do.” But she’s a little thankful, too; because spending months away on tour is undoubtedly preferable to a permanent absence, a visibly missing piece like a chip in a tooth.

“I know. I’ll call.”

Roger steps inside the massive Chelsea home. “Happy birthday, Chris!”

She promptly spins away, ignoring him, and ferries the pie off to the kitchen. Freddie wraps an arm around Roger’s shoulder and steers him into the living room where Mary, John, a perpetually pregnant Veronica, and a host of assorted Mullens and Mays are passing the twins around like footballs and chatting over appetizers and tea and cookies. Biscuits, you correct yourself. And the shrimp cocktail are called prawns.

“What did you say your name was?” a middle-aged, rotund, bearded man asks John disinterestedly. “Josh? James?”

“John, actually. I’m the bassist.”

The man frowns as he gobbles down a shrimp. “Oh, how odd, I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Yeah?” Roger pipes as he sails over and claps the man aggressively on the shoulder. “Well let me introduce you. This is John Richard Deacon and he wrote You’re My Best Friend, you’ve heard of that one, right? He learned the electric piano to compose it. Yes, he doesn’t just play bass, he has all sorts of gifts. He’s massively talented. He builds amps and manages finances and can sketch pictures that look like freaking photographs...”

You wander into the kitchen where Chrissie is slicing herself a miniscule portion of Boston cream pie. “Oh fuck it, it’s my birthday. I’m having a proper piece of pie, thighs be damned.” She goes in for a second attempt. “You want any?”

“No, I’m alright. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Her brows knit together in concern. “Not compulsively consuming your own weight in snacks to avoid socializing with strangers? That’s unlike you.”

Well, since you asked, I was feeling even more piggish than usual until I found out my husband was fucking somebody else, and also that the entire country knows about it. “Yeah, weird.”

Brian enters the kitchen. “Oh, pie!”

“You want a piece?” Chrissie asks cheerfully. So they’ve made up somehow. Like they always do, like they always will.

“Yes, absolutely, but I’ll get it myself, love. You go enjoy yourself. It’s your day.”

She beams up at him and journeys out to the living room. You are in no rush to join her. Watching Roger charm the crowd, allowing him to dazzle you, to lull you back into his orbit like the subsidiary moon of a vast, ringed planet...no, you have no stomach for that at all. You pour yourself a glass of red wine and try to swallow without tasting it.

Brian’s doting demeanor evaporates like he’s taken off a mask. He sighs, mixes himself a Vesper, sips it as he leans against the kitchen counter and studies you warily. “How are things?”

“Paradisiacal.” Each night you sleep in the guest room with the blue-grey walls and the seahorse-patterned blankets. Roger tried to give you the main bedroom, still sleeps in a spare room in case you ever decide you want it; but you like that the blue room is smaller, more humble, that it smells like John’s brand of cigarettes, that there is no gaping emptiness where Roger usually is. Roger doesn’t try to talk to you about Dominique. He is attentive, optimistic, easygoing, affectionate; he lights the fireplace in the living room and brings you hot chocolate, he wears the red hat you once knit him every time he leaves the house. But he left the paperwork showing he’d sold the apartment—the ‘London Love Nest,’ isn’t that what the headline called it?—out on the kitchen table where you would see it. You know he’s waiting for you to forgive him, as if that’s an inevitability. And every once in a while you feel a guttural stab of fear that he might be right. Someone puts Hotel California on the record player out in the living room. “Every time I hear this goddamn song I get acid trip flashbacks. I start thinking of sharks for some reason.”

“It reminds me of...” Brian’s gaze goes murky. “Well, of a girl from New Orleans.”

The one from the hot tub. The one with a peach tattooed on her shoulder blade.

“We have a stop there,” you say. “You know, on the tour. We’ll be there for a few nights.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

No, perhaps that’s all he’s been thinking about.

“How are you these days, Bri? Two beautiful children, adoring wife, We Will Rock You becoming a fantastically successful single...your world must seem pretty golden.”

“You’d think so.” He peers out the window where raindrops are clinging to fogged glass and the November skies are illuminated with episodic flashes of lightning like Morse code. At last he says, very softly: “I think I married the wrong person.”

“I think I did too.”

Bri raises his eyebrows and clinks his Vesper against your wine glass. “So we were both right. Fantastic. Cheers.”

You gulp down the rest of your wine, feeling your stomach roil in protest. You pour another glass. Brian drains his Vesper.

“You want me to escort you out there?” Brian asks, gesturing towards the living room. “I’ll happily redirect everyone’s attention towards the twins if you’d like. They’re very convenient conversation starters.”

“No, thanks Bri. You go ahead.”

“Alright. If you insist.” A smile ghosts his lips. “I’m really glad you’re coming with us, love. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision. And I’m sure things won’t feel easy for a long time. But Queen wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out there before I punch you in your fragile liver.”

Brian laughs, sets his glass in the sink, and disappears into the living room. You stall in the kitchen by yourself. You sip wine, browse through the family photos displayed on the refrigerator, listen to the polite chatter of the guests from a distance. Eventually you venture towards the living room before losing your nerve and veering down the hallway towards the back porch. Outside the rain is falling torrentially, the sky rumbling with thunder. John is sitting on a wooden bench under the roof and smoking as he gazes out into the storm.

“Hey,” he says, sliding over to make room for you on the bench.

You sit down beside him and hold out your hand. He stares at you for a moment, puzzled, before passing you his cigarette. You take one long drag and give it back to him. John blinks at you, stunned.

“That’s extremely bad for you,” he teases.

“So is getting hammered and driving into cop cars.”

He clutches his chest. “Ouch. I felt that in my soul.”

You shove him, chuckling. He points down at your boots. You swing your feet up to rest in his lap, and he lays his left hand on them while he smokes with his right.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I know you might not want to talk about it. That’s fine. But if there’s any baggage you’d like to unburden yourself of, I’m listening.”

I’ve got baggage, all right. I’ve got enough to fill a Boeing 747. “Everyone warned me. Everyone told me it was a terrible idea to fall in love with him. Everyone except you, John. Why is that?”

He’s slow and deliberate when he answers. “I never wanted you to be with someone because...you know...because you thought you should be with them. Because they were the ‘smart’ choice or the ‘safe’ choice or whatever. I wanted you to make your own decisions, whatever those were. I wanted you to be with someone...whoever that was...only because you wanted to be. Because you loved them.”

You nod. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

“I told you once that it didn’t mean anything to someone like Roger when he...you know. When he does what he does. I was telling the truth then, and I’m telling the truth now. I don’t think it meant anything to him. And I don’t know if that kills any of the pain I know you’re feeling, but I hope it does. Because you being in pain is the absolute last thing I’ve ever wanted. Are you angry with me for not trying to change your mind?”

“No,” you say immediately, and you mean it. “Not at all.”

“Good. Because they took away my driver’s license for a year and I’m probably going to need a lot of rides from you.”

You laugh, a brash authentic laugh, and John grins over at you.

Chrissie hauls the sliding glass door open and steps out onto the porch with a frustrated huff. “I know this party is technically for me, but when you’re the mother of infant twins sometimes all you really want is a smoke, a nap, and a bottle of vodka.” She lights a cigarette and plops down into a chair facing the bench.

“How are you, Chris?” What you mean is: Have you screamed much at your husband lately?

“I’m doing pretty well today, actually.”

“Is that because you’re genuinely happy or because you’ve trained yourself not to be sad?”

Chrissie smirks. “You’ll find those feel like the same thing after a while.”

“No, I won’t find out. Because I’m not staying with him.”

“Love...” Chrissie begins.

“I’ll stay in London. I’ll even stay with the band. But I’m not going to stay married to him.”

“Y/N, please, maybe you should think about this,” Chrissie presses. “I know you love him. And I know he makes you wonderfully happy when times are good. Maybe that’s all we can ask for, you know? Wives in our predicament. Maybe we can learn to cherish them when they’re with us, bottle up the magic, store it on a shelf to tide us over until they come back home. No one else is going to light you up the way he does. There’s only one Roger Taylor. Withdrawal from that is going to be hell.”

You glower out into the wind and rain and say nothing.

“And that woman, Dominique Beyrand? I’ve asked around about her, she’s got some husband back in France that she goes home to when she’s not working here. It’s just a fling for her too, it’s nothing serious. I don’t think there was any chance he would have ever considered actually leaving you for her.”

“He bought her an apartment, Chris.”  

“Men do stupid things that don’t mean anything all the time. Isn’t that right, John?”

“Sure,” he offers ungenerously.

You stop yourself before the words tumble recklessly from your lips: Maybe you’re trying to convince yourself more than me, Chrissie. “I’m divorcing him,” you vow quietly.

“Okay,” Chrissie capitulates. “Okay. I’m sorry, love, please forgive me. I only got two hours of sleep, Teddy was crying all night.” She puffs on her cigarette and sighs mournfully. “I hate to say it, and I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I guess it was sort of lucky you never got pregnant. Can you imagine trying to split up when you have children together? Working out custody and finances and holidays, having to pretend like you don’t want to disembowel each other all the bloody time...it would be torture.”

John glares at her, his left hand still on your boots.

“Yeah,” you respond; but now you’re distracted, because you remember the reason why you had been so determined to ignore the phone when Chrissie called to warn you about the News Of The World headline. Because the kitchen phone was right next to the calendar, and the calendar would report in no uncertain terms that your period was due.

When was that? A week ago?

You can’t be late. You’ve never been late.

“Oh god,” you breathe.

“What?” John asks, concerned.

In reply, you lurch off the bench, stumble to the edge of the porch, and vomit red wine into the wet grass like a gush of blood. Chrissie soars to you and rubs your back as you retch into her lawn. “Oh no, you poor thing!”

“John, go away,” you choke out as he approaches. “I’m humiliated, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You saw me in a jail cell. I’m staying.”

You turn to look up at them. They read the raw horror and shock in your eyes. John’s jaw falls open and he shakes his head, firmly in denial. You could relate.

Chrissie gasps. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“No fucking way,” you wheeze. “After all this time, after all those months of nothing...”

“You better take a test,” Chrissie says. “Come on, I have a kit upstairs.”

She pulls you to your feet and leads you to her bathroom, deftly avoiding the increasingly intoxicated crowd downstairs. John waits just outside the door as Chrissie rummages around in the closet for the test kit. It’s a contraption that looks like a chemistry set, with a dropper and a test tube and a stand with a mirror. You piss into a paper cup—successfully although not with flying colors—and wash your trembling hands in the sink with a piece of pink soap shaped like a seashell. Then you lay on the cold linoleum floor with a folded towel for a pillow and a bucket within reach. Chrissie trickles a few droplets of urine into the test tube, mixes in the contents of a small plastic vial, and places the test tube in the holder that suspends it above the mirror.

Chrissie explains to John: “If she’s pregnant, the chemicals will form a brown ring in the tube. If there’s no ring, we’re in the clear.”

“How fitting,” you chuckle from the floor, dazedly, cynically. “That would be the only ring I’ve ever gotten.”

It takes two hours. The three of you loiter in the bathroom, Chrissie and John perched on the rim of the enormous garden tub, fidgeting and chitchatting anxiously. They alternate popping downstairs, mingling just long enough to not arouse suspicions, bringing back biscuits and bits of toast that they futility try to coerce you into eating. Chrissie doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes in the house, she never has; but now both she and John are chain smoking as they wait and periodically get up to check the test tube.

“This isn’t real,” you whimper. “This can’t be real, right? There’s no way the universe has this ironic a sense of humor.”

“Wait, something’s happening.” John waves Chrissie over to the test kit. She examines it.

“Love...” Chrissie begins, her voice tentative, her eyes glossy.

“No,” you insist. “No way, no fucking way, I don’t believe this...”

Chrissie turns the kit so you can view it, so you can see what she does reflected in the tiny mirror: a single dark ring that informs you you’re carrying Roger’s child.

[crutchie-with-a-y]

Hiya Sophie🥰 how are you? Could I please request Jack Kelly x reader where he’s being touchy and begging for them to love him but reader is busy with school so they don’t give him enough attention? And then Jack gets super quiet and when reader is done with hw, reader feels super bad about not giving Jack enough attention, they treat Jack with cookies they’ve made and talk about this and the two of them end up cuddling the whole night sharing sweet kisses. Jack lays his head on reader’s chest🥺

Hey! I’m doing pretty good, what about you? Thank you for the request! Sorry for the wait, I’ve been a little pre-occupied, but I hope this is something like what you had in mind! <3

“Haha, yeah we’ll see you later, Finch!” You laughed and waved as your friend said his goodbyes and turned down his street. 

“Oh thank GOD he’s gone!” Your boyfriend, Jack, said as soon as Finch was out of earshot. You and him and about a dozen other friends always walked home after school together, one by one peeling off from the group as they reached their streets. Finch was the third to last to turn onto his street, which left you and Jack to walk the rest of the way to your homes, (which is actually how you started dating in the first place). Jack, who was usually happy to have friends around, had seemed restless to get away from the group today, and once he was positive Finch couldn’t see or hear you, he pinned you against the stone wall the two of you were passing on the sidewalk. He passionately kissed you and for a moment you completely lost yourself in his rough lips that tasted of cherry coke and the cigarette he had shared with Race at lunch. Then you reminded yourself that you had some homework to complete and a test to study for. 

“Jack,” You gasped when he pulled back for air and began to nibble at your ear. “Jack, Jack I don’t have time.” Jack pulled back without removing his hands from where they held your wrists against the wall and squinted at you.

“What are you talking about?” You snapped your wrists forward and glared at him as you began to walk again, him following at your side with the same look on his face.

“I have homework.” Jack stopped completely and you turned back to look at him. 

“The fuck you don’t,” Jack said, obviously pissed at you, and that was rare, so it made you pretty uncomfortable, you had to admit. “You finished your math in class, you told me at lunch. Your history project isn’t due for a literal month and you’re already almost done with your poster. You wrote this week’s homework essay for English on Monday night.” He walked slowly, listing everything off on his fingers. 

“Well there is more math,” You said defensively, as the pair of you turned a corner onto your block. 

“More math? What the-oh my god the EXTRA CREDIT PACKET?!” He looked at you like you were insane and you bit your lip and looked at the concrete. “Y/N, you’re a straight-A student. You don’t need the extra credit. And even if you still wanted it ‘just in case,’“ He imitated you as he followed you up the stairs to your front door. “You literally have all semester to turn it in, and it’s FRIDAY. It’s FRIDAY! Can we not just relax and do couple things for ONCE.” He said, turning around to look at you while you shut your front door behind you. You glared at him. He KNEW how important school was for you and how much you stressed about getting all your work in on time, why was he being so rude about it? 

“I also have science,” You responded, pushing past him and into your dining room to pull your laptop and textbook out of your bag and set on the table. Jack loudly threw his bag on the table in front of you and headed into the kitchen. 

“Please tell me your kidding,” He said, popping open a can of Pepsi. You flipped through your textbook pages angrily, upset that he didn’t seem to get it. 

“No, I’m not kidding.” You said sharply, only turning to look at him once you’d said it, just able to catch the sad, exhausted look on your boyfriend's face. You felt guilty, but before you could apologize, his face hardened again.

“Y/N I WAS UP TILL 3 AM YESTERDAY HELPING YOU WITH YOUR SCIENCE PROJECT. HOW DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO DO?” He yelled, which made you shrink a little as you typed your password into your laptop, but then your blood boiled. 

“YES AND I AM GRATEFUL FOR THAT, BUT THERES A TEST ON MONDAY-”

“ON MONDAY?” Jack stepped up on the chair next to you and sat on the table and closed your computer in an attempt to get you to look at him, but you just crossed your arms and stared at the logo on the top of your computer. “Y/N, please, you can study all weekend for that, when your parents get back? Cmon, right now we have a little alone time and I really need-” 

“Everything to be about you?” You whipped your head up to look at him. His eyes looked hurt, but you weren’t going to take it back. 

“No, I’m sorry, I just, I’m really-”

“Annoying.” You glared at him, and then it was Jacks' turn to shrink, but he didn’t boil back, and you felt a twinge of guilt. “Look, just, just give me an hour.” You opened your laptop back up while Jack slumped over, flicking his pop tab in defeat. After a few minutes of the “tingggggg” noise echoing in the quiet room, you reached over, without looking up from your screen, and placed your hand on top of his fingers to stop the flicking. You kept it their longer then you meant to, and Jack rubbed your knuckles with his thumb, lightly squeezing your hand. You pulled it away abruptly, and wouldn’t let yourself look at the heartbroken look on his face. 

Awhile later your phone buzzed for what felt like the thousandth time from your laptop bag and you couldn’t take it anymore. You ripped your bag across the table and dug around for it in the front pocket. 

“Why the hell do you keep calling me?” You said sharply into your phone. 

“I was calling to ask you why the hell Jack has been active on Instagram for the past three and a half hours?” Katherine matched your tone on the other end. You pulled your phone back from your ear to look at the time and cringed when you realized how much you’d gone over your hour. Jack had walked off into your bedroom what you thought was a few moments ago but was actually two hours ago. You were still annoyed though, and Katherine being so nosy didn’t help.

“I don’t know,  he just is,” You said snarkily. “I’m studying,”

“Your parents are out of town and you SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY are studying on a Friday night instead of spending time with your boyfriend?” She sounded shocked, and you didn’t appreciate her judgment.

“Look, Kath, I-”

“Especially after he got fired yesterday.” Your heart dropped.

“Wait, what?” You prayed that you had misheard her.

“Yeah, I guess he forgot to call in yesterday, so when he didn’t show up his boss told him to, and I quote, ‘not bother showing up anytime after that either.’“ Katherine explained exasperatedly. You wanted to vomit. “Wait, how did you not know about this?” 

“Um, ahhh, I gotta go,” You said, standing up quickly and hanging up as you walked towards your bedroom. You slid your phone into the pocket of your jeans and lightly tapped the closed door to open it a smidge. Jack was sitting on your bed, on the phone with someone, his back propped up against the wall, looking out the window with his forearms resting on his knees which were bent up so his feet were on top of your comforter. You pushed your door open a little more to see that he had taken his shoes off so he didn’t get dirt on your bed, which he knew you detested. A small smile pulled at the edges of your cheeks; even who he was upset with you, he went out of his way to please you. He was so selfless. Your smile fell. And because of that selflessness, he had ended up sacrificing his job to help you out. You looked back at your laptops glowing screen in the dark dining room, the blue light reflecting off the cover of your textbook. School stressed you out so much. So, so much. You had always been a very good student, but a slight dip in your performance the semester before had lead to a stern talking-to from your parents that made you absolutely terrified to get anything lower than a perfect 4.0.

You looked back at Jack, who was still on the phone, flicking paint out from under his nails, oblivious to you in the doorway. He gets that, you thought to yourself. Jack understood the pressure from your parents and the immense fearful stress school put you under. Jack was always willing to be a supportive boyfriend, no matter how hard you made it. 

“Oh yeah, no (he’s/she’s/they’re) busy studying right now. (He’s/She’s/They’re) really stressed about school,” Jack said into the phone. “Hey, hey, (his/her/their) parents are really strict and put on a lot of pressure, it’s not (his/her/their) fault. Besides, I’ve never seen you turn in homework once so shut up.” Oh my god, You thought, feeling yourself tear up. He was literally standing up for you over something that you had just argued about, and on top of it, he didn’t know you were watching him, so he did this out of sheer integrity. You let your guard down for a second and let out a loud sniff, and immediately darted behind the door, hoping he didn’t see you. He continued talking to whoever it was he was on the phone with, causing you to let out a sigh of relief. Then you just stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. You peaked around the door again, just as he started to laugh.

“Hahaha, yeah me too, I haven’t had dinner yet, I’m starved.” For a moment you felt even more guilty, knowing he was waiting for you to eat, but then you felt a light bulb click on over your head. You headed into the kitchen and began to quietly open and shut cabinets, gathering the ingredients you knew you would need to surprise Jack. Your boyfriend was often fairly mysterious, but one thing everyone could tell you about him was his obsessive and at times even frightening love of snickerdoodles. As you quietly dumped cups of flour into a bowl, you couldn’t control the small giggle that escaped your mouth as you remembered what an important role snickerdoodles had played in your relationship.

“You have some snickerdoodle crumbs on your lips,” Jack had said after diving into the cookies you had made for him on his birthday. But before you could reach for a napkin, he had stopped you. “Actually, let me take care of that.” And the next thing you knew you were having your first kiss with Jack Kelly. 

You carefully pulled the pan of cookies out of the oven and slid them onto a plate. You clicked the oven off and picked up the plate, your hands protected by polka-dot oven mitts. You knew you should probably wait for them to cool, but you were too impatient. You walked over to your bedroom and bumped the door open with your hip. Jack’s phone call had ended awhile ago, and he was laying on his back on your bed, his knee propped to support the notebook he was drawing on with the stub of a pencil. He looked up when you walked in, and quickly set aside the drawing materials.

“Snickerdoodles?” He looked at the plate and then back up at you. “I always welcome humankind's best invention but what is the occasion?” 

“A sincere apology,” You said, you had practiced what you were going to say while you were baking. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, you don’t have to-” Jack started, shaking his head.

“No, I do.” You said, setting the plate on your comforter and gesturing for him to take a cookie. “I was being a self-centered asshole, and for that, I am so deeply sorry.” Jack began to shake his head again as he slowly broke his snickerdoodle in half.    “No, I was.” You said, sliding your hand under his chin and lifting it up so he was looking you in the eye. “I am so sorry about your job, Jack. That was completely my fault and I take full responsibility. I promise I will call your boss and try and talk him into taking you back, and if he won’t I will find you another job. A good one, that you like. I promise.” Jack set his cookie back on the plate and turned his head away and swallowed hard. You moved the plate to the floor and reached your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you.

“You are just so selfless. Truly, the sacrifices you make for everyone else, without a second thought amaze me. If you lost your job to help me with a science project, I cannot imagine the other things you have given up to make other people even the slightest bit happier.” You heard Jack choke into your shoulder, and you planted a soft kiss on his head. “You are the best person I know, Jack Kelly.” And with that, your boyfriend let out a broken sob and his shoulders began to shake as he cried. You slowly leaned back on your bed so that Jack’s head rested on your chest and his tears dripped onto your T-shirt. You rubbed his back and kissed his head, careful to be delicate. Eventually, his sobs stopped and the two of you sat in connected silence. 

“Where are those snickerdoodles?” Jack sniffed. You laughed.

“They’re on the floor.” You lifted your arms so he could lean down and get them. He picked the plate up and set it up over your shoulder, grabbing the one he broken in half earlier. He kissed you sweetly before laying back down on your chest and nibbling on the cookie contentedly. You looked down at him with a warm smile on your face and in your heart. 

“I love you, Jack.” 

“I love you too, Y/N.”