#it made me cry twice (hard for a book to do) and i got misty eyed several times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snelbz · 4 years ago

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter Three}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta sat across the kitchen table in Azriel and Elain’s kitchen, looking at her sister.

“I mean, I just don’t get it,” Nesta continued, shaking her head. “Me and Cassian… Why didn’t they choose you and Azriel? You’ve been together forever and want a big family.”

“You’re second guessing taking care of Nyx?” Elain asked, with no judgement, just curiosity.

“No, of course not,” Nesta began, sighing. “It’s just… Me and Cassian?”

“They did try to set you two up all those years ago,” Elain said, propping an elbow on the table and dropping her chin in her hand.

Nesta raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “And how well did that work out?”

Elain rolled her eyes, but sighed. “Feyre was right though,” she said, looking at the letter from Rhys and Feyre, laying face down on the table. Nesta had brought it over for Elain to read, which had just made them both start crying over again. “You have the fiercest heart. Nyx needs you in his life.”

She blinked away the tears lining her eyes again. Silently, she wondered when she’d be able to think about her sister, about Rhys again, without dissolving into tears. She knew it would be a long while.

Finally, she said, “I know he does. I just don’t understand why Cassian has to be involved. That’s not going to be a healthy environment for him to grow up in.”

She could already see it, she and Cassian at each other’s throats. He knew how to get under her skin, loved to do it, did it as often as he could. It would be all Nyx saw as he grew up, his guardians screaming at each other.

“He needs to be somewhere happy and loving and peaceful. Like here, Lainy. He’d flourish here, with you and Az and Seph.”

Elain gave her sister a long, wistful look. Her eyes were soft and misty when she said, “We’re just learning to take care of one, Nes. I can’t… We can’t take on another infant. And, besides, it wasn’t what Feyre and Rhys wanted.”

“They probably wrote that the second they got engaged,” Nesta said, knowing that wasn’t true. “They didn’t know what they wanted.” Elain glanced at the open letter that sat on the table between them. “I read it. They knew exactly what they wanted for Nyx in case something happened to them, and I think that they were right. Just because you and Cassian can’t see it doesn’t mean that it’s not a good idea.”

“The lawyer will disagree with that,” Nesta muttered, remembering Tarquin’s words from their meeting. I tried to advise them against this. She shivered. “The thought of living with Cassian and playing house has me nauseous. And pissed off. So pissed off that I’m nauseous.”

Elain sighed again. “He really is a-.”

“A good guy,” Nesta interrupted, letting her head fall into her hands. Her fingers tugged in the roots slightly. “I know. You keep telling me that. Feyre always told me that. Everyone keeps telling me that. But the two of us?” She looked up at Elain, letting her see into those eyes that matched Feyre’s perfectly, letting her see the slight panic in them, letting her see everything. “We aren’t compatible. Everything about him, it throws me off.”

A cry from down the hall had both of the women standing, but when Nesta realized it was Nyx, she hurried out of the kitchen. In a flash, she was in the spare room, crossing to the small crib Elain and Az had set up for Feyre and Rhys when they found out they were pregnant.

Nyx’s blue eyes were wide and he let out another tortured wail and Nesta tried to soothe him before he was even in her arms. “It’s okay, bubba,” she cooed, holding him against her chest. He kept crying, though the volume of his screams lessened. Instead they were more akin to what Nesta would have almost called sobs.

“It’s been a long day,” she breathed. “I think we should go home, yeah?”

She gathered his diaper bag from where it laid on the bed and when she entered the living room, Elain was sitting on the couch, reading over the letter again. Quiet tears slid down her cheeks.

“I’m gonna get him home,” Nesta said, softly. She repeated, “It’s… It’s been a long day.”

Nodding, Elain folded the letter back up and wiped at the tears on her face with the back of her hand. “Right.” She held the letter out to Nesta, who took it, careful not to jostle Nyx who had finally quieted down, though Nesta could tell he was still awake.

His little hand was pressed to the side of her neck, and she could feel it moving gently.

“Call me if you need anything,” Elain said, carefully hugging her and pressing a kiss to the top of Nyx’s head. “Az and I will help you move what you need to into the house, so don’t hesitate to ask.”

Nesta could only nod, still unsure of how she was going to do this, how she was going to live her life, while also taking care of the far more precious one in her arms. She silently left, driving home and getting Nyx inside and settled, letting him sit in the Bumbo seat she’d found in the kitchen atop the counter while she cooked dinner.

After putting him down for bed, Nesta found herself sitting on the balcony off of Rhys and Feyre’s old bedroom. She looked out into the small wood that made up their backyard, over the pool and chairs that had been set up for the approaching summer, but her eyes were drawn up to the stars that Velaris was famous for.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, not sure if she was admitting it to herself or to Rhys and Feyre, listening to her wherever they were. “I’m so scared I’ll do something wrong.”

The sounds of crickets and other manner of nighttime creatures were the only reply she received.

“I know you believed in me, in us, but I don’t. I want to make you both proud but I don’t know if I can do that. I just need something to tell me that I’m not making a huge mistake and-.

She softly gasped as a shooting star went blazing across the sky, a second one following it right after.

Her lip trembled as she nodded up at the night sky, understanding, knowing who had sent those stars. She almost felt like she could feel them there, as if they were telling her that it would be hard, but she could do it.

And she… she didn’t have to do it alone.

Cassian wasn’t at Az and Elain’s for thirty seconds before he crossed to the mini-fridge Azriel kept stocked in the garage.

“There’s no way they thought this was a good idea,” he said, pacing around, Azriel silently watching him. “It’s a sick joke, just like all of this is. There’s another letter somewhere that says just kidding, wouldn’t that be funny though?”

He cracked open the beer and drank it all in one go.

“I mean, Rhys and I always messed around and shit, but…this is too far,” he went on, tossing the can in the garbage and reaching for another one.

Azriel crossed his arms as he said, “Too many of those and you may think it’s funny, too.”

Cassian shot him a look as he drank from his can. “This isn’t funny. None of this is funny.”

Azriel took a deep breath before saying, “Did you stop to think that maybe they knew exactly what they were doing?”

Cassian said nothing as he propped himself on a stool and shook his head. Azriel didn’t push him. Eventually, Cassian said, quietly, “I want to help Rhys. I want to be the man that he thought I was. I mean, shit, he left me in charge of his child. And I would die for that child. But, Nesta was right, you know? I have no idea how to take care of a kid, especially one as young as Nyx.”

“You think I did, when Seph came along?” He asked, leaning back against the workbench. Cassian was as comfortable in this garage as he was his own, had created just as many beautiful things here as he had in his own cramped space. But he focused on Azriel’s words, sighed as he listened to his brother.

“I was scared shitless, but that didn’t mean a thing to her, or to Elain,” he went on. “Because they both needed me. They needed me to get my shit together and figure it out, and that’s exactly what I did.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just looked down at his feet, at his dirty work boots and silently drank from the can in his hands.

Azriel crossed the garage and pulled out a beer of his own, cracking it open and taking a drink. “So read the books, do the research, go online, do whatever you have to do, but Cassian, listen to me.”

His brother rarely used his full name, so he looked up at him, nor expecting to find the tenderness on his face or the silver lining his eyes.

“If you think for one second that Rhys and Feyre didn’t know what they were doing, you’re wrong. No one loves that little boy as much as you do. Yeah, you’re probably going to fuck up once or twice, but it’s okay.” Azriel placed a hand on his shoulder. “It happens and as long as you learn from it, that’s all that matters.”

Cassian wiped at his eye with the back of his hands. “I’m fucking scared, man.”

“I know you are,” Az replied, his voice dropping, almost gentle. “Not to mention we’re all still hurting. But you and Nesta are going to be fine, Nyx is going to be fine.”

Cassian clamped his eyes shut. He groaned. “It wouldn’t be so bad, I know I can learn to take care of Nyx, but Nesta? They expect me to live with Nesta?”

Azriel actually hesitated. “Yeah, that sucks.”

Cassian, despite himself, laughed quietly. “Yeah.”

“But, believe it or not, I think she’d be good for you,” Azriel said, keeping that quiet tone.

“Now you’re trying to set us up?” Cassian asked, wiping at his eyes and the tears that had nearly fallen.

Azriel shook his head. “No. But, Nesta Archeron gets shit done. And she loves Nyx, too. The two of you together….different parenting styles? Yeah. But, you’d be surprised at how well two opposites balance each other out when it comes to parenting.”

Cassian thought of Azriel and Elain. They were both gentle and kind, but they were pretty opposite, too.

“And if it’s a complete failure?” Cassian asked.

Azriel sighed as he watched Cassian. At last, he said, “It won’t be.”

Cassian wanted to believe him, wanting to feel confident in the words Azriel said, but even his third beer hadn’t lifted his confidence.

He let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling, at the garage door that was raised to allow the cool, night breeze in. “I have to live with Nesta Archeron. The Mother thinks she’s funny. The Cauldron is laughing at me. Fate is rubbing its hands together and laughing maniacally.”

“No,” Az chuckled. “I think that might be Rhys.”

Cassian snorted, but the door to the house opened and Elain stuck her head out. She smiled softly at Cassian, who raised his drink in greeting. “I thought I heard you out here. You gonna stay for dinner?”

His alternative was grabbing something from a drive through or searching through his fridge for something that wasn’t completely freezer burned, so he smiled and said, “Sure, Lainy. Thanks.”

She beamed at them both and the door clicked shut behind her as she turned to go back to the kitchen. Cassian looked over at Azriel to find him still smiling like a fool at the door.

He sighed quietly as he realized he would probably never have that, would never have someone he could stare after and gaze at as fondly as Azriel did Elain. Not if he was to spend his life shackled to someone who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

As soon as he thought the words, he chastised himself, stepping out into the driveway. She was just as miserable about the whole ordeal as he was. But for Nyx, they could try and make it work. They would make it work. They would do what they had to.

He sighed, gazing up into the night sky.

Shaking his head, he wondered if there was some sort of afterlife. If there was, he wondered if Rhysand and Feyre were somewhere in the sky, looking down at him, trying to encourage him, trying to get a message to him during this horrible, hectic, anxiety-ridden unknown time.

He hoped they were.

He could use it.

That encouragement.

That love.

Cassian began raising his can to his lips, but then he froze.

A shooting star shot across the night sky.

Then another.

Cassian’s hand fell back to his side as he stared at the bright Velaris starlight, completely in awe.

They were watching, they were there with him. They were there with all of them.

Of course they were.

Cassian swore under his breath as he fully gave into the ridiculous notion of moving in with Nesta, of co-parenting with the most frustrating, stubborn woman in Prythian.

But for Nyx, he would.

For Rhysand, for Feyre, he would.

#life as we know it #snacmc lawki #nessian #nessian contest #nesta archeron #cassian #snelbz tacmc collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

239 notes · View notes

docholligay · 3 years ago

Text

Divided by Four: Thirty-Six

I AM DONE WITH THIS YOU ARE FREE OF HAVING TO SEE IT

Lena Oxton would never have another birthday, and this was an odd thing to think about.

It was one thing, for Tracer, to know that she was dying--she had known that for what seemed like an age now--but quite another for her to know that there were some things she would never do again. The early ones, she hadn’t known, really. The last time she would get on her motorcycle. When she would last trust herself to fly. That final walk down the hall without help from anyone or anything. These lasts had come without announcing themselves, and so Tracer had not gotten the chance to savor them appropriately. It was a mistake she was trying not to repeat, as she felt the sand slip through the hourglass now.

So it was comforting, in a way, to know that this would be her last birthday, even if it felt strange to admit. Tracer had resolved to drink in every instant of it.

She’d told everyone that it was silly and a little wasteful to bring her gifts, given the reality of the situation, and really all she wanted was to be around her people and drink a beer or two, have a few laughs, and for no one to get too misty-eyed. There were a number of things about dying that Tracer didn’t particularly care for, but one topping the list was the way people mourned her before she was gone, when all she wanted to do was enjoy whatever she had left without sadness. There was no point, so she thought, in being so sad over the last bits of something lovely that you ruined it for yourself. It was rather like a child whimpering while eating the last squares of a chocolate bar. So the only gift she had asked for, was for no one to cry in her view, and on that they had delivered.

But also, people had brought gifts. Nothing fancy, really, mostly soft pajamas and blankets, a nice lotion, a particularly plush backrest pillow she was already making use of, things that spoke to both the reality of the situation and the inability of the people who loved her to let it pass by without making the most of it. Her uncle had made her a coconut strawberry cream cake, and she’d even managed to eat some of it. Pharah had made sure to tell her she had better live long enough to use the thick flannel pajamas she’d bought, as she’d had her father send them from Canada.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” Tracer had grinned as she said it, “Piss on me grave? Well, I’m being cremated, so even that’ll feel a bit ‘ollow, now won’t it?”

Everyone had laughed, even Winston, who seemed to taking the whole thing rather hard, however much Tracer joked that he’d been taking care of her for the last ten years and really should enjoy his retirement. But mostly, it had been a good day for her, and if she was feeling a little misty herself, it was nothing but the idea that she was so deeply loved, and that not everyone got to experience that in their lives.

She was born under a lucky star, and the last year or so was only a bump in that road near the end of it, a bit like the jar before you leave the pavement. And even that was only her health, wasn’t it?

Moira could take her life--and as happy as she was knowing Moira died never knowing how badly she had hurt Tracer, it did sting a bit to know that was how it would go down in the books--but Moira had never managed to take anything more dear to her. Her family. Her friends. The general sense that she was loved and cared for. Even her mind was sharp and busy as ever, which admittedly made her body’s disobedience a bit more annoying, but she was grateful to have her wits. People would remember her as herself. That was important.

If anything, the relative frustration and pain of the last few months had made her feel all the more loved. Had showed that it must be true.

So nothing was all bad, really.

Night had fallen over London, and as tired as she was, Tracer still could not bring herself to go to bed. Winston had asked gently if she was ready, and she had just shook her head and told him she wanted to stay up awhile. It was nice, this deck she and Winston had put together on the roof of the place. He’d doubted her, when she’d suggested the project, and wondered how he would ever possibly use it, and told her there was no need to put the work in. Sometimes Winston had to be talked into having nice things for himself. He probably would have approved the project so much earlier if he’d known how much time Tracer would spend up here.

The smell of London filled her lungs. She should be more afraid of death, she supposed, but she could never quite let go of the idea that even when she was gone, she wouldn’t be. Not that she believed in an afterlife, really, but she also didn’t not believe in an afterlife, and she’d seen London built on its own ashes so many times, that she had to imagine that even when she was gone, the bombed out wall of what was left of her would be built around, become part of a Pret or a pub or even just a ruin where the pigeons nested.

What was tough was knowing when the building needed to come down, which she hadn’t yet quite figured out for herself. It was one thing to be gone in an instant, a bomb dropped, a moment and then just the rubble. It was another to sway into disrepair, to try and pinpoint the day you had to tell those who had lived in your heart that there were homes elsewhere, and it was time to seek them. When the little joys of being were outweighed by the reality of decay.

“Lena?”

The lightness she felt at hearing her name in that soft brogue was enough to tell her that day had not yet come, and she would keep on for awhile yet. Tracer thought she might live one hundred years, and never tire of hearing Emily’s voice. It was impossible.

“It’s grown late. You’ll tire yourself.” A kiss on the top of her head, and then Emily sat down on the edge of the daybed where Tracer found herself spending much of her time lately.

Tracer chuckled. “Too late. Doesn’t take much anymore, it’s just,” she shook her head, “a bit aggravating, right? There’s so much I’d like to do in a day, not that I can do much of it anyway, but I’d like to at least imagine it. I get frustrated so--”

Emily nodded kindly as she rubbed Tracer’s shoulder, tight with the constancy of spasms that ran through it, but as Tracer’s eyes flicked upwards, she saw the tears on the edge of Emily’s eyes. Not the time to talk about it. Never seemed to be.

Emily would miss her, and there was no real getting around that, no matter how she tried. Tracer had already spent plenty of time writing and rewriting a letter to be published when she was gone, Pharah sitting alongside her on her small laptop, to try and let Emily know in the most public way that she’d like her to move on, and wasn’t only saying it, that she meant it, nagging over the words until Pharah had offered to remove the burden of waiting for death from her.

Pharah joked like that, more than most, because Pharah was kind, in her way, and knew Tracer needed someone to be able to joke with. It was a favor to her. When Tracer had told her, she had asked to be treated the same as ever, and to Pharah’s eternal credit, she came very close.

“Never mind me.” she grinned “Tired and rambling, right? It was a wonderful birthday, Em. Marvelous, really. Been thinking back on me birthdays---I’ve been so lucky. I am so lucky. Thank you, for everything you’ve done, for it.”

She was tired, and her body jerked and shook, but she was still, in this moment, the master of a failing plane, and managed to but her hand on Emily’s leg. Emily curled up next to her and rested her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting out a little sniffle as she drew her arm around her.

“It’s not fair for you.”

“Me?” Tracer kissed her forehead “Oh, none of that now. Not for me. What’s fair, any’ow? Should ‘ave been killed a thousand times over, love, but I wasn’t, Was I? Plenty were,” she muttered, half to herself, “And I noone in whole of me life ‘as ever wanted to ‘ear it but I’ve ‘ad the sense for years that I wasn’t precisely meant to get me pension. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy if you like but I--really, who it isn’t fair to is you. Life’s been more than fair to me.”

Emily said nothing, but wiped her eyes and took Tracer’s hand in hers.

“I mean really, think about it. Not a bad life at all, on balance. Pilot. Top Flight Instructor. Commander. Bloody ‘ero of London. I lived more in thirty-six years than most people would if they ‘ad twice the time. So it’s all right. I made it all count. Course I want more, but, I do tend to rush through things, don’t I? Just me way, don’t stop to admire the view much. Some people are like that, like fireworks, or, oh I don’t know, a stick of gum. And,and at the fag end of it all, I get to be in London, taken care of instead of sent away, when by rights I should have been shot down, or shot through, or lost forever. To be sitting on a London roof in a pile of pillows? Not precisely the gulag, love, and I won’t be greedy. Em, look at me, please.”

Emily sat up and looked at her, and Tracer squeezed her hand.

“I lived long enough to find you, and to love you.That’s all that matters. I ‘ave led a bloody charmed life. I ‘ave. Truly. I could not possibly ask for more.” she grinned, “That’s a lie actually, would ‘ave loved to get all the way through to the King so as I could watch his bloody face when I refused the knighthood publicly, but,” she chuckled, “We can’t ‘ave everything.”

Emily gave a little chuckle and shook her head. “You’re awful, Lena. Happy Birthday. My prince charming.”

“And it really was, Em. It is! What do you say,” she winced as she tried to sit up a little, her body jerking her back against the back of the daybed, until Emily balanced her, “What do you say, we ‘ave Win come up with that last bottle of champagne? Toast to ourselves till midnight? Just the three of us?”

Emily nodded, the teeth poking thought on her smile.

“That’s what I’d like to see, tonight. Thank you love. Just us three, and your smile.”

The clouds and fog and too much light of London parted for a moment, just a few stars peeking through the grey and haze. They sparkled down on Tracer, who sparkled back a bit, the diamonds of the natural world. Bright against the night.

Bit of light in everything.

14 notes · View notes

ordinaryschmuck · 4 years ago

Text

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-2nd Place

If you’ve been paying attention to Disney’s televised animation, you’d noticed that there’s been a weird trend going on with their shows. Recently, most of Disney’s shows begin as random comedies only to have a deep story to them in later seasons. Some shows soar as they do this right, and others tend to flail as they do it wrong. Personally, I would like to think it’s all because of one show that Disney has made. And since its series finale, the network tries their hardest to replicate it due to how well received it was. And despite the many attempts, no one can do better than--

#2-Gravity Falls (2012-2016)

The Plot: Twin siblings Dipper and Mabel Pines are forced by their parents to spend the summer in Gravity Falls, Oregon. But don’t worry, their parents are not entirely careless. They just sent their only children to spend the summer with their con artist of a great uncle with a deep, dark secret...okay, so they're a little careless. In fact, the parents might be more irresponsible than you think because Gravity Falls isn’t the small backwater town as it seems. Soon enough, Dipper and Mabel will learn that it’s a town with monsters, demons, and a mysterious author who recorded all of the town’s weirdness in his journals. Will the Pines twins solve the town's mysteries, or is their summer going to be over sooner than they thought?

By the way, I FREAKING love this premise! The idea of an entire town being filled with mysteries and monsters is so compelling to me because the possibilities are endless. One episode could be dealing with zombies, and another could be dealing with an entire society dedicated to keeping the town’s weirdness a secret. On top of that, every monster/weird oddity that Dipper and Mable face is just so creative, from a multi-headed bear to even the main antagonist being (and I kid you not) the Illuminati symbol wearing a top hat. And even when the show does use monsters you’ve seen before, they utilize them in a way you wouldn’t have expected. For example, there are two episodes where the characters deal with ghosts. In both scenarios, the methods these ghosts use to haunt the living are not just creative and scary, but in some instances, they can also be kinda funny. There’s just no telling what this show is going to pull off. Or at least, not entirely.

Because another great thing this show has is its mystery element. And I don’t mean just how well it handles mystery within a single episode (although it does that phenomenally too). What I mean is that Gravity Falls has a great overarching mystery that you, the audience, can solve for yourself. With that comes the show’s impressive attention to detail. From the secret codes to solve, to the lines/scenes you wouldn’t have thought twice about, to even a single license plate. That’s right. A single license plate is an essential clue to the show's most significant twist ever. In fact, it’s a twist that fans have solved years in advance due to all the hints that were left within previous episodes. And most of the credit goes to Alex Hirsh and his team. They really put a lot of effort into what many would describe, a kids cartoon. Even though this might just be the most adult kid's cartoon that I have ever seen.

You know how Pixar movies try their darndest to make films suitable for both children and their parents? That’s basically what Gravity Falls does. Whether you’re an adult or child, odds are you will be entertained in nearly every episode because rarely does it feel like an episode leans too far in either direction. If there’s an episode with a serious story, there’s always a silly/lighthearted subplot to keep the kids entertained. And if there’s an episode that is just silly all the way through, there are adult jokes that make you ask, “How the hell did a Disney cartoon get away with that?” Even when the show gets genuinely creepy, it works just perfectly above the line of going too far for kids (except in “Northwest Mansion Mystery." S**t gets real in that episode). Many kid's shows in the 2010s struggled to find this balance, and Gravity Falls is another one of those rare exceptions that somehow feels like it does it without even trying.

And what keeps that balance? The show’s sense of humor, that’s what. Even in the darkest episodes of the series, there is almost a well-placed joke to lighten the mood. And with Gravity Falls, the show relies on four types of humor. Being random, being surreal, being smart, and being dark. And not just dark for a Disney cartoon. I mean that Gravity Falls has a dark sense of humor that I would have expected in something like Rick and Morty (which is fitting because the creators of both shows are actually close friends in real life). As for how funny the jokes are in this series, they. Are. SO. Funny. I’m not kidding when I say that every single episode--and I do mean, every. Single. Episode--has made me laugh at least once. Not even the best comedy shows that I’ve seen have been capable of doing something so spectacular.

But do you want to know why the comedy is so hilarious? And do you want to know what really kept me invested in all 40 episodes? The answer is simple: It’s all because of the characters. Most jokes are funny because the right person said them. I care about the show’s mysteries because the characters make me care about those mysteries. And when the stakes get high, I’m invested because I care about the characters so much that I fear they’ll get hurt. In fact, I was so invested in all of these characters that the series finale made me cry FOUR TIMES due to how heart-wrenching it was. And I don’t weep that often when it comes to specific media. Most of the time, I get a little misty-eyed, and even when it feels like a scene has yanked at my heartstrings, I usually get myself under control before any real tears show up. But with the series finale of Gravity Falls, I was so emotionally invested with this cast that I was tearing up with them as tearful goodbyes were said. This is because Gravity Falls’ writers know that the key to making any story work is to have a great cast of characters. Because it doesn’t matter how epic your plot is. If I’m not invested in the characters winning the day, then I won’t be invested in the story.

Now at this point, you’re probably wondering what is wrong with this show. To that, I say virtually nothing...Okay, that’s not true. There are some problems the show has, but trust me when I say that the good heavily outweighs the bad. Are there occasional continuity errors? Yes. But they’re usually intentional for misdirection or made up with really great attention to detail in other scenes. Are there occasionally bad jokes? Of course. But like I said: EVERY. EPISODE. IS. FUNNY. So who cares if not every joke lands? Are there also a couple bland characters? Obviously. However, they’re either made better in later episodes or forgotten quickly due to even more memorable characters. And now the big one: Are there bad episodes? And there are...in comparison to the show’s usual quality. Even when Gravity Falls is at its “worst,” the writing is still somehow entertaining in its own right. Hell, the real complaint I have involving the series isn’t even about the show itself. It’s about other shows on the network.

Like I’ve said in the beginning, as of late, there has been a lot of modern Disney cartoons trying too hard to be the new Gravity Falls. And they’re all best intentions met with poor execution. The best (or should I say worst) example I can think of is Tangled: The Series, a television series based on Disney’s Tangled. The first batch of episodes was cute, harmless, and downright charming. Then halfway through the first season, it becomes dark, dark, and even darker. And unfortunately, the show’s quality feels like it took a dip with its direction. As for other Disney cartoons, they follow a similar pattern, with the thought that Gravity Falls did the same thing. The problem is that it didn’t. From the very first episode, the show started off by hinting that it isn’t as cute and innocent as it seems. Sure the stories got significantly darker in season two, but they slowly worked their way towards earning that by slowly becoming more dramatic with each episode. And like I said, even at its darkest, the writers still knew when to keep the tone light. So that’s really the only logical problem I have with Gravity Falls: It made people think they need to be more like Gravity Falls.

When I hear that people wish the show was brought back, I honestly don’t get it. The series ended on a perfect note, with very few questions left unanswered. And the unanswered questions were actually answered through other media such as books or comics. And if you ask me, I’d rather have the series come to an end in the way that it did. It had a perfect premise told with fascinating mysteries, funny comedy, infesting characters, and even a kickass theme song (I know that I didn’t mention that last bit, but trust me when I say that it’s so GOOD). Why ruin that by turning it into something like The Simpsons, where a show would just get stale after too many seasons? In the end, while I was sad to see it go, I’m still happy to say that this is always going to be a show that will make you Fall in love with it.

(But the real mystery is: What series is going to top a cartoon that was practically perfect?)

(...)

(Who am I kidding. You’ve probably already figured it out by now.)

#top 20 of 2010s #gravity falls #what i thought about

11 notes · View notes

marmolady · 6 years ago

Text

Broken Chains: Awakening

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f), Quinn x Michelle

Summary: Part 6: Post-ending (Endless ending). Taylor's ordeal is over... a new world awaits.

Previous chapter/Next chapter

Word Count: 8683

Warnings: Bit of coarse language

Tagging (even though it probably won’t work): @sceptilemasterr @bbaba-yagaa@brightpinkpeppercorn @edgydepressedchoicesthot @endlesssummerfan@acidsugar0

Taylor’s eyes flitted open at the sound of a gasp. Her vision blurry, she could make out a face before her; eyes wide and brimming with tears. Estela.

Her heart pounding a mile a minute, Estela put her hands around Taylor’s face, almost unable to believe in the spark she saw burning behind her brilliant blue eyes. From the brink of fading into nothingness, her Taylor was right there… blinking up at her, staring right back. Alive, and awake, and beautiful. “Taylor…,” she breathed. “Tay…” She dissolved into sobs, her forehead dropping against that of her love, her soulmate.

Her own eyes becoming misty as she felt Estela crying against her in sheer relief and joy, Taylor tried to speak. “Es… Estel…”

Talking was hard. The movements of her tongue felt heavy and laboured. She stopped trying, instead putting her energy into lifting her arm, clumsily laying her hand to rest against Estela’s hip. To think that she might never again have held this wonderful woman in her arms… feeling her there now was the sweetest feeling there was; she’d never take it for granted. She laughed weakly as she felt her tears kissed away. More kisses… and more of them… and more again.

“You… scared…” Estela punctuated her words with kisses, “the absolute… shit… out of me!”

Her eyes swimming, Taylor managed to bring her hand to Estela’s face. She touched it tenderly, losing herself in the adoring gaze. Her fingers trailed down to her wife’s mouth, where they received the softest of kisses. “Estela…I…I…”

“Taylor. Taylor, baby, are you okay? Are you hurt, mi amor? You’re here… you’re here.” Estela was shaking like a leaf, totally overwhelmed, but her voice was soft and sweet. It felt as though was dreaming, and she was almost afraid to believe it.

Desperate to reassure, Taylor tried again to talk, though she now had to contend with the tears that were cascading down her face. “I’m… here. Ohmygod, Estela…” she slurred, “I love you, I love you, I…”

A blazing kiss cut her off, and then she was lovingly rocked back and forth, pulled up against Estela’s chest, which heaved as she laughed and cried.

“You did it, Taylor. Everyone’s families… the whole damn world- you saved them… it’s over, and you did it. I’ve got you now… I’ve got you….”

Taylor exhaled slowly, and she relaxed into the embrace, relief and sheer bliss warming her from her head to her toes. It was over… it was finally over, and she was back where she belonged. She thought of her friends; all reunited with their loved ones, all free to live the lives they deserved. The familiar tickle of long, dark hair falling against Taylor’s face made her smile. She closed her eyes, and for a long while, just let Estela fill her senses as she was held, safe and secure, and home.

“Just tell me… you’re okay?” Estela asked as she stroked Taylor’s arms with long, gentle caresses. “Back in the cavern… you looked you were in agony… are you hurt…?”

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m fine. I just didn’t know it was possible to be this tired…” she whispered into her wife’s chest, and held onto her tighter as she felt command of her muscles return to her. “If I’m with you, I can live with tired.”

Estela lifted her chin and kissed her again, slow and tender.

Though her eyelids were heavy, Taylor couldn’t bear to look away. “Have I ever said that you are so beautiful? Not just, like, quite pretty. Divine,” she breathed.

“Once or twice. You are quite the flatterer. But thank you.” Staring hungrily, Estela lovingly stroked Taylor’s cheek. She still couldn’t get over it. Just seeing her look back at her was more wonderful than she could say. “And you are truly beautiful too. The word doesn’t seem big enough for what I’m feeling right now, looking at you. But you are. I love you.”

“I love you.” Taylor’s eyes welled up once more. “We’re gonna have a home together… and a family… and…” She began to cry. It really was over. And that meant it was just the beginning.

Estela kissed Taylor’s forehead. Wherever the path would lead them, they’d be walking it together. She’d found her calm within the storm, and she’d never let it go again.

Though she hated to break them out of their blissful little bubble of solitude, Estela knew she had to give everyone the news they’d been so desperately hoping for. “I should call up Michelle, give her an update,” she said finally, after a long, heavenly stretch of simply gazing into Taylor’s face. “Usually, she’d have checked in by now, but I guess it was a late one last night. She’s been worrying about you non-stop. Well, everyone’s been worried. We thought… we thought you were gone.”

“Wait, is everyone still here? If it’s all fixed, shouldn’t they be able to go home?”

Estela gave an affectionate laugh. “No one’s going anywhere without you. Idiota. Everyone’s been calling home; for now, it’s been… enough. Sean had his mom flown out, she was here a couple of days. But they’re all alive because of you; none of us could just walk away. Besides, we all felt that your best chance was with all of us close to you. And then Varyyn pretty much confirmed it… you reached him, somehow.”

“I don’t think I could have come through if I was alone. I’d hear voices, and like… memories would come to me, and they’d fill me up, and I’d feel stronger, more complete. To begin with, I was pretty much lost in a haze, but slowly… slowly it came back. I came back. It sounds completely insane, but I feel like you guys… made me.”

“That’s not insane. In a weird way… it kinda makes sense.” With one last kiss, Estela carefully extracted herself from the bed, wincing a little as the sheet brushed over the sutured-up wound from the fight with the oryctoraptor.

“Holy mother of crap!” Taylor almost fell off the bed when she saw the angry red line down Estela’s calf and ankle. “What happened to your leg?”

“Our friend in the cavern came back for round two.” Estela had to stifle a laugh at the pure horror on Taylor’s face. “I just about got out in one piece.”

“I can’t leave you for five fucking minutes, can I? Jesus!” Taylor clumsily put her arms around Estela’s waist, slumping against her and sliding downwards until she was almost flat on her belly, her face pressed against her wife’s lower back. “My lover, I am never leaving you again.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t. That wasn’t five minutes you were gone; that was eight days. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” Estela’s voice trembled as she spoke. She never, ever wanted to revisit those early days, but it seemed inevitable that they’d haunt her for some time to come.

“I was out… eight days?” Taylor became quiet.

Estela nodded, her eyes sad. “It felt like longer. Six times we had to resuscitate you. It was… not the best week of my life. But you’re awake now. You’re back with us, and I really should put everyone else out of their misery.” She stood up gingerly and helped Taylor up into a sitting position before limping over to grab the phone from the table. “Hola, medic? Come quick! Urgente.”

“Are you trying to scare her?”

Within a couple of minutes, there was a clattering of doors and an anxious shout from Michelle. “What’s happened? Is she breathing? Get her in the recovery position…”

Pushing open the bedroom door, her eyes grew wide as saucers and her hands leapt to her mouth. “Taylor!”

Propped up against Estela’s chest, Taylor grinned broadly. “It’s good to see you, doc.”

With a strangled squeal, Michelle ran forwards, having to stop herself from flinging her arms around Taylor. Instead, she reached out gently, taking her hand. “How do you feel? Do you mind if I check you over?” She paused midstream and looked at Estela. “Come quick!? You could have just told me she was awake, you bitch!” Making her point with a sharp slap that was barely registered, she turned her attention back to her patient. “We were so worried, Taylor. I- I didn’t think there was a thing we could do.”

Taylor pulled Michelle into a hug. “Michelle, you’re amazing. No one I’d rather have in my corner. Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“How could I? How could any of us?” Michelle wiped a tear from her eye. “What you did for us… there’s just… there’s no words…” She pulled herself together. “But it’s your turn to get looked after. After the state you were in, you’re going to have to take it easy. Can you sit up on your own? Don’t push it- just tell me if you can without straining yourself.”

“I don’t think so. I can hold myself up once I’m there, I just need a hand.”

Michelle busily went about checking Taylor’s vital signs and responses to stimuli. “How long have you been awake?”

“I’m not really sure… ‘Stel?”

Estela furrowed her brow. “Maybe half an hour or so.”

“A heads up would have been nice,” said Michelle, a little exasperated. “I’m pretty sure the deal was ‘let me know if there’s any change’. And not a half hour later, in what was clearly a sick joke intended to scare the ever-living hell out of me.” It was clear to her, though, that Taylor was in perfectly safe hands, and had been the whole time.

“Well,” said Taylor, as her friend listened to her lungs, the stethoscope cold on the bare skin of her back. “is everything working okay?”

“You look… good. Better than I would have expected, to be honest. Do you have pain anywhere?”

“Not really. I just feel… heavy. Like really, really lethargic.”

“Well, considering how far gone you were, that’s not a surprise. Just keep me in the loop, okay? If anything changes, I’m here to help.”

Taylor sighed and leaned into Estela. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so fatigued; it was only really the utter joy of being back with the people she loved that powered her on. She needed more.

“Hey, Meech?” she ventured. “I know ‘take it easy’, but can I see everyone? I feel like… I need to.” Her voice cracked, the intensity of her emotion taking her by surprise. “Just… just for a little while.”

“They’re all still at breakfast, right?” Estela asked, her arms tightly around her wife’s fragile form. “I could take that stupid wheelchair.”

Michelle considered for a moment. “It shouldn’t hurt. But not for long. I want you-- both of you-- back in bed within an hour; got it?”

Estela gave her a hard look. “I’m taking care of her. You should trust me.”

“Fine.” Michelle put her hands up. She knew better than to argue with that. “Don’t be afraid to pull a knife on someone if they try and keep her up too long.”

You can’t tell her that! Taylor mouthed, her eyes wide.

Estela’s gaze lingered on Michelle for a little while longer. She really owed her. Big time. “You’re gonna be a good doctor, Michelle. I know it’s not official yet, but I’m pretty sure you already are. I honestly don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

She reached out, and gently pulled Michelle in, wrapping her up in a long and heartfelt hug.

Once again weepy, Michelle returned the embrace, feeling days of built-up tension release from both their bodies for good. The relief was staggering.

“Thank you, Estela… and you’re welcome. Ugh; I wish you two would stop making me cry-- I will need to fix my face before going back to breakfast.”

_________________________

Freshened up and dressed, Taylor sat in Estela’s lap, their arms in a loving tangle. Estela had been certain she hadn’t needed to be pushed around, but Michelle had insisted, and it was hardly worth arguing when giving in meant being able to hold her wife close. The plank-laden pathways did not make for the most comfortable ride, but in her anticipation, Taylor didn’t even notice. As she laid eyes on her friends, gathered together in the open central hall, talking together, laughing… happy, her heart swelled. She felt Estela give her a little squeeze.

Quinn saw them first. She shrieked and leapt to her feet, causing everyone else to nearly jump out their skin, looking up to see their friend coming back to them. Taylor grinned from ear to ear.

“Chyeheheeeeeaaaaaaaah, boi! Taaaaylooor!” Craig barrelled over from the nearby buffet table, and lifted Taylor into his arms, swinging her around. “Way to not die, bro!- Youch!”

Estela rammed the wheelchair into his shin and protectively pulled her wife back into her lap.

“Too much? Sorry…” Craig put an apologetic arm around Estela’s neck and ruffled her hair. “But Taylor!”

And then came the wave. Never, Taylor suspected, in the entirety of human history, had a person been the centre of such a frenzy of hugging, of kissing, of slaps on the back, of fist bumps; she was surrounded, and loved on without any holding back.

A nervous Michelle put herself in the middle of the swarm. “All right, break it up! If you people smother her to death after everything I’ve done, I swear…”

“Please tell me I get some kind of best friend priority when it comes to hugging her…” Diego laughed through his tears.

Taylor wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed tight. “’Course, you moron! You’ve got major hug privileges racked up.”

Everyone gathered around to finish breakfast, the mood electric. Raj piled high a plate of food for Estela, while offering just a bland portion of rice for Taylor on doctor’s orders. Food, though, was the last thing on Taylor’s mind; all she wanted was to catch up with her friends, to soak up the happiness that she’d finally been able to give back to them. Wedged in between Estela and Diego, she could barely keep her eyes open, but she just couldn’t wipe the enormous grin off her face as they recounted the time she’d missed.

“So, Princess, you didn’t think to put out a warning before pulling a suicide mission, right?”

Taylor shrugged, a little sheepish. “I- uh, I wanted to tell you guys… at least so I could say goodbye properly. I just… I didn’t want to risk being talked out of it, or for anyone to try and stop me. To be honest… I needed to feel like I was in control. Or at least as in control as you can be gambling your own life like that.”

Quinn reached across the table to hold her hand. “I wish I’d told you how much you mean to me. If I’d known…” She shook her head. “I’m just so relieved we have that chance now. And that we have the chance to thank you.”

Biting her lip, Taylor still couldn’t shake the feeling that her cowardice had caused a great deal of pain. She’d fixed the problem, but she couldn’t undo the months of grief she’d allowed. A warm pressure of fingers squeezing hers seemed to respond to her unsaid turmoil.

Grace nodded. “You were so brave. To walk towards your death knowingly… for us. I… don’t think I could ever have that kind of courage.”

“Fucking badass,” Zahra agreed. “I would have been self-preservation all the way. But you pulled it off. Got to be running low on miracles by now, Tayls?”

“Shit, yes…” Taylor laughed, the tension disappearing from her body as quickly as it had come. There was no resentment, and she loved her friends all the more. “I’m not pushing my luck any more. Quiet life for me. Huh. I don’t even know what that would look like.”

Diego piped up. “MCU binge while consuming a freezer’s worth of ice cream?”

She snorted and gave him an enthusiastic if pathetically feeble high five. “Diego, baby, you are on!”

“Seriously, though,” said Michelle, “you’re gonna need to take it easy for a little while. What you went through was… unusual, to put it mildly. We don’t really know how long it’ll take for you to recover.”

Taylor knew she was right. “So, what do we do now? You guys have all gotta go home… I don’t want to hold you back anymore. Like you said, we don’t know how long it’ll be before I’m okay.”

“How about we pencil in a date?” Sean suggested. “Just a guess for when you’ll be strong enough to travel. That way we have a plan, and we’re not keeping everyone back home hanging.”

“You don’t have to wait for me…”

Zahra threw her head back in frustration. “Estela, will you please smack her for me! The selfless hero routine just crossed a line. Look, Taylor, we all started this together, and we’ll finish this together. Even though I sort of hate you right now for pushing me to the point where I’d actually give a freaking pep talk.”

“Oh. Well, that’s me told.” Taylor smirked. That was about as close as Zahra came to outright affection, and she’d happily take it. “In that case, I guess Sean’s idea works.”

Almost sending Grace’s glass of juice flying, Craig thrust his hand into the air.

“This isn’t elementary school, asshat! You can just talk… you know, without the violent flailing.”

“Then why the hell did they spend all those years teaching us that in the first place?”

To that, Zahra could only shrug. “Eh. Shows how effective the education system is. I guess we should be grateful that you retained something from second grade.”

“What were you gonna say, Craig?” Taylor asked, with a loud yawn. Wonderful as this was, she wasn’t sure how long she could keep her eyes open.

“We never had that week vacation we won!” he proclaimed passionately.

“Whaddya call this last year and a half, Drax? Tropical island- check. Fancy booze- check. Swanky resort- check…”

“We spent the whole time trying to escape the vacation, or death, or freakishly toned middle-aged men, or death! I just wanted to have the good time I’d earned…”

“Earned?” Aleister queried. “You entered your name into a draw, it was hardly a merit-based contest.”

“No, actually, I think he’s got a point,” said Taylor, who was now slumped against Estela’s shoulder. “When did we actually do the vacation bit?”

Diego nodded enthusiastically. With little to go home to before the start of senior year in September, he’d take what time with his friends he could get. “The literal end of the world is just not vacation material. Craig’s right- we should actually do it!”

Grace’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. “One last perfect week in paradise- with all of us together!”

“I might be reading between the lines here,” Raj said, “but is ‘vacation‘ code for ‘week-long rager’?”

“Seriously, Raj?” Michelle shook her head. “Taylor needs an actual break.”

“Well, I guess that could be fun too…” Raj was disappointed, but he was flexible. He’d thrown enough parties for his elderly grandmother to know how to do ‘toned-down’ when it was absolutely necessary.

“But movie marathons every night should be fine?” Diego piped up. “Now that Rourke’s DVD collection is not the sole remains of the planet’s history of filmmaking, Taylor and I have some serious catching up to do.”

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Taylor grinned. “You’re gonna give commentary through everything we watch, aren’t you?”

Diego hugged her. “But that’s what you love the most!”

Estela rolled her eyes. It seemed pretty clear that Diego was going to be a fairly consistent fixture in the next stage of Taylor’s recovery too. She’d expected nothing less, and braced herself a whole lot of Netflix. After the week she’d had, though, the thought of snuggling up with Taylor for movie-after-movie, really wasn’t so bad at all.

As her friends excitedly discussed their big La Huerta send-off, Taylor struggled to focus on the conversation. She was so sleepy… so, so sleepy. Unable to follow the back-and-forth across the table, she slumped against Estela’s chest and began to doze.

Michelle stood up. “I think we’d better help Taylor back to bed…”

“What, already?” Craig complained.

Estela gave him a look of complete exasperation and pointed at the slumbering woman on her chest.

“Yeah, so?” he shrugged. “She likes boobs. What’s new?”

Zahra’s juice shot out her nose as she gagged, while Estela could only glare daggers.

“Craig,” said Michelle, putting a hand to her forehead. “You’re making my brain cells hurt. She’s asleep.”

“She was asleep for a week and she’s still tired?”

Estela gave Taylor’s shoulder a little shake. Sleeping, she looked unnervingly similar to the unconscious figure she’d sat with day-in-day-out. “Sorry…” she said, as Taylor stirred. She wasn’t sorry at all; it was a damn relief to know that she could wake up. “I think you’re ready to go back to bed.”

“Hmmm?” Taylor looked up slightly. “Yeah, I’m a little tired. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

As Estela settled her back in the wheelchair, Taylor was the centre of a second round of what she would later refer to as ‘hugmaggeddon’. Even despite the rough ride of the chair over the uneven ground, Taylor found it hard to stay awake. Relaxed and utterly content, she snuggled in, letting Estela hold her tight. Just as she closed her eyes, she thought she saw Quinn give Michelle a quick kiss as she held the door open for them. With a knowing smile on her face, and surrounded by a most loving embrace, she let sleep take her. She was home, and all would be well.

______________________________

From the minute she sank down into Taylor and Estela’s couch, Michelle had her head buried her study books, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Quinn watched with concern mounting in her blue eyes. Michelle had become obsessive, totally fired up with the need to reach her goal. Pulling Taylor back from the brink had added fuel to the flame, even through the sleepless nights and seemingly endless worry. Her dedication was admirable, and that burning desire to help and heal was one of the reasons Quinn loved her so much, but at this rate, she’d simply burn herself out.

“Michelle… don’t you think you’ve earned a break?”

“By the time I get back to Hartfield, I’ll be two years behind, Quinn,” the frustration was clear in Michelle’s voice. “If there’s a chance I can make up some ground…”

Quinn edged closer, and took her friend’s hand. “Just… half an hour. For me. There are two people upstairs who I love very much, and they’re alive and well because of you. I just need to know you’re taking care of yourself too.”

Michelle’s eyes flickered up from her book, and the worry in Quinn’s eyes halted her. “For you.”

Quinn placed the books neatly on the floor and gave Michelle a warm smile. “Thank you.” She ran her thumb lovingly across Michelle’s soft hands. Her skin was always so perfectly smooth and wonderful to touch. “You’ve always known where you’re going, who you’re gonna be; it’s honestly inspiring.”

“I can already hear the ‘but’.”

“But… sometimes, you push yourself too hard.”

“You don’t understand. Becoming a doctor is hard. You push, and you push, or you’ll never get there at all.”

“’Chelle, that’s my point. This isn’t an easy road you’ve chosen, but you’re putting expectations, deadlines on yourself that you don’t need to have. The journey’s challenging enough without adding to it.”

Michelle looked away.

Quinn reached out and cupped her cheek. “I’ve never had a life mapped out, planned to the year. You’re right, I can’t understand that. But I do know that life can lead you down unexpected paths, and it works out for the better. You can have goals, have your plan, but you need to have faith in yourself as well. I have faith in you, Michelle.”

A tear rose on Michelle’s cheek. “I’ve been selfish.”

“Michelle-“

“No, really. I’ve hardly spared a thought for helping you find your path. You’ve got so much to give, Quinn. You must think I don’t care…”

“Stop right there. You’ve spent the last week- longer- pulling a friend back from the brink of death. On alert, all day and all night. And every spare hour you’ve had, you’ve been seeking to know more, so you can help more people. You’re not remotely selfish.”

Michelle shook her head. “I wasn’t there for you when you called your mom and dad. They thought you were dead. You shouldn’t have had to make those calls alone. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay…” Quinn said gently. “It was emotional, but I’m much stronger than I once thought I was. I knew you cared. To be honest, you gave me courage. Seeing you fight so hard for Estela and Taylor, how brave you had to be that night, it made me realise that in the scheme of things, I had nothing to fear. It hurt to face up to what heartache my parents had been through, but now they can begin to heal. Maybe we can even heal as a family.”

“You are an extraordinary person, Quinn. I’ve never known anyone with such a big heart.”

“It takes one to know one!” Quinn smiled her beautiful, sunny smile. “But I think you need to stop seeing this as two years lost. You’ve grown in so many ways… I almost wouldn’t know you from the girl who stepped off that plane.”

Michelle gave a dry laugh. “I know what it means to have friends now, to really see people. I mean, look at Estela- back at Hartfield, I’d see her and she’d just be some creepy weirdo to be avoided at all costs. I don’t even want to know how many times she saved my life out here. And now I’d do anything for her. The world is going to seem so different now.”

“And that will make you an amazing doctor. Everything you’ve done… honey, this time you’ve ‘lost’ has been the making of you. You’re so much happier. Life isn’t a race, Michelle.”

As Michelle looked into Quinn’s face, she knew that every word was true. “How did you get so wise and beautiful?” She giggled as Quinn blushed, and scooted closer, so that she could see every freckle. “You’re my inspiration, Quinn. You have been for a long time now.” She sighed. “And I think I need you sometimes… to remind me of what matters, to remind me to have faith in myself.” Delicate fingers stroked through her dirty blonde hair, making her breath catch in her throat. “I want to be there as you discover what the world has to offer. I want to fight in your corner as you take the first steps towards the long, happy life you deserve.” She took Quinn’s face in her hands, and saw her eyes flood with emotion. This was what she wanted. “I wondered if we might… make it official? Would you be my girlfriend?”

Quinn caught Michelle’s lips in her own, kissing, caressing. She gave a soft moan as Michelle responded with fervour, her tongue slipping past Quinn’s parted lips, each motion slow, deliberate, and overflowing with passion.

Michelle came away with red cheeks that had nothing to do with her fondness for blusher. “Was that a yes?”

“Please!” Quinn laughed, and pulled her lover into another embrace, before realising where they were. Being on active ‘Taylor duty’ had its drawbacks.

A naughty grin came to Michelle’s face. “You know… I don’t think they’ll miss me if I slip away for an hour or two. After all, if my… needs aren’t met, how can I be at my best for the people who rely on me?”

“Doctor Nguyen! What are you suggesting?” Quinn stroked slowly underneath Michelle’s chin, drawing her back in. She winked cheekily.

Michelle felt herself shiver. “I know you’re teasing, but you can definitely keep calling me that.” She lowered her voice to the softest whisper. “My place this time?”

_____________________________

Grunting softly as she woke, Taylor found herself back in their room, snuggled up against a dozing Estela and using her chest as a pillow. Tentatively, she stretched out her tired muscles, which still felt heavy. She pushed herself up and pressed a warm kiss against Estela’s full lips. Even before Estela opened her eyes, she could feel the sweet smile against her mouth.

“Hey…”

“Hey…” Estela squeezed Taylor’s frail form tight against her. “I hope you had a nice sleep.”

“Mmmmm… I definitely needed that. Looks like you did too.”

Estela yawned widely. “I haven’t been sleeping well. It was almost impossible to relax for the first few days you were out.”

“Well, you’ll have your little spoon back tonight. And you can wake me up any time you want, just to check I’m still with you.”

The thought of spending the night together was like a warm and comforting dream. Lost in nothingness, Taylor had yearned to reach out and be with her wife. To touch her now was heaven.

“Taylor?”

“Mmhmm?”

Her eyes soft with concern, Estela gently cupped Taylor’s face and slowly stroked her cheek. “Are you okay? Honestly. I mean… do you even remember what happened?”

Taylor reached a hand up to meet Estela’s. “I swear,” she said, her voice hushed and sincere. “I swear I’m okay.” She furrowed her brow. “That last night almost feels like a dream, but I remember it. We made love in a forest clearing… that part is very vivid.”

“Nice to know I made an impression.” Estela’s cheeks had gone a little red. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget any of it. I don’t want to. The things I felt… it’s hard to put into words. It was just so intense… knowing it was all the time we had. It felt like goodbye. Once we were in the chasm, it was already over.”

“That part’s more of a blur. I remember being absolutely terrified, but still so sure of what I was doing. That probably doesn’t even make sense…”

“I understand.”

“And I remember touching the pillar. You were kissing me, and I tried to focus on that… forget about anything else. But it wasn’t just the light this time; I could feel something being torn away” Taylor felt her bottom lip tremble. That pain… that unbearable pain; she’d didn’t want to remember it. “And then I felt myself slipping away. Dying.”

“You stopped breathing. I managed to keep you alive; I got you part of the way home before the oryctoraptor found us. I guess I must have passed out, ‘cause I woke up in bed. Varyyn saved us. That was you… wasn’t it?”

Taylor gave her a little kiss. “I needed to know you wouldn’t be left alone down there.” She leaned close so their faces were but an inch apart. “I needed you to be all right. It was weird, you know… everyone acting like I’m some great hero. Maybe in a way I am; but I never had to be half as brave as you did.” As she met Estela’s eyes, the shadows of heartbreak were palpable. “’Stel… I love you. Are you okay?”

For a split second, Estela froze, but then she nodded, even as the tears came. She held Taylor, feeling her embrace -weak, but brimming with all the love she’d ever need. “I wasn’t. I honestly thought you were going to die, and I was totally helpless. It was everything I’d been dreading for so long, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” She peppered her love’s face with kisses, her heart swelling as Taylor responded with an affectionate smile that made her nose crinkle. “But… now I’ve got everything I need. We’ll be okay.”

It occurred to Taylor that in all the talk over breakfast of going home, her wife had been quiet on the subject. “You’ve spoken to your tio, right? He knows you’re safe?”

“I…no, I haven’t.”

Lines of worry returned to Taylor’s face. “Estela…”

“I couldn’t face it. We almost lost you six times. I almost lost you, Taylor. Even when you improved, I wanted to wait. It’s stupid, I know, but I was scared that if I talked to him, I’d… I’d break down.”

Taylor reached for Estela’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got me now. Right here, and never, ever gonna leave you.” She leaned in once more, and their foreheads touched, a wonderful feeling. “Maybe you should do this… you know I’ll be right here, holding your hand. I just think he must be wondering… after all this time…”

Estela’s mouth was dry. Her stomach seemed to do a flip. The last her tio had heard from her was that message that he’d have received the day she flew out to La Huerta… for him, that had been over a year and a half ago. Since then, silence. “I… don’t know what to say. He probably thinks I’m dead! I can’t explain any of this… I was… I was a different person back then.”

“Baby, you’ve grown, but you’ve always been you. I know how close you two are- he’s just gonna want to know you’re okay.” Almost falling on her face, Taylor clambered over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. She placed it in Estela’s hand. “Look, I’m not gonna push you. But I think you need to do this. Whether it’s now, or in a few days, or whatever; this is your time to take back the future you were always meant to have.”

Taylor’s eyes held such sincerity, offering love and support without question. And she was right. Of course, she was right; Estela still couldn’t quite let herself believe that a future with the people she loved -happy, at peace- was real before her. She shook her head, cursing herself for freezing up when everything she wanted was right there for her to take.

“This is stupid. It shouldn’t be this hard…”

“It’s been a long time. San Trobida must feel like a whole different life.”

Estela bit her lip. She took Taylor’s fingers back into her own and held tight. To be so nervous felt ridiculous, but still she couldn’t shake it. So much had changed… and yet through it all she had missed her tio desperately. She had always been so sure of herself, stubbornly pushing forward in her own path, but now, inexplicably, she yearned for his approval. With a long, grateful exchanged gaze with Taylor, she shakily started dialling in the number.

The phone rang for several torturous seconds. Just long enough for Estela’s mind to imagine nightmare scenarios- San Trobida was still a dangerous place, it was by no means certain that Nicolas was safe and well. And then the phone picked up.

“Tio Nicolas? It- it’s me, Tio…” Estela’s voice shook. After all this time… it was as though she was reaching out to a ghost of her past. Please say something.

There was silence for several long moments, then the voice that answered was thick with emotion. “Estelita… I had wondered…”

Her breath caught in her throat as that voice, that wonderful voice reached her ears. He’s okay… he’s okay… “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to you before now. You got my message?”

Nicolas chuckled. “You said I was right. I will be keeping that message in case you never say those words again.”

“I couldn’t do it. I’ve changed since I’ve been here… so much. Mom would never have wanted…” The words couldn’t come, and Estela didn’t force it.

“You’re safe. That’s all that matters. You had to find your own way. But all this time, mija… it was like the earth had swallowed you up.”

Estela gave a dry laugh. “You wouldn’t believe the half of the shit that’s gone down here. But we made it.” She took a deep breath. “Everything’s different now. I’m different. I …um… I met someone…”

“You? Now that is something I cannot believe! I always said you should not be guarded like me, but I never thought you’d listen! Does this mean your cloth ears work now? Is this twice I can say I was right?”

Estela giggled; she’d so missed the way he’d take the piss out of her. “Tio! You were too quick to write me off as a lost cause. I was, too. My Taylor… she is… everything good in this world.” As she spoke, she lovingly fondled with Taylor’s fingers. “I didn’t believe I could love or be loved in the way that…” She shook her head. “She is my heart. I don’t know what I’d be without her.”

“Ah, a woman. You always did things your own way- maybe I should not be surprised.”

A blush crept to Estela’s cheeks. “It’s not… weird to you?”

“You’re young, you’re in love! That’s what I’ve been fighting for so long for… for you to be free to be happy. I just hope your Taylor knows how lucky she is.”

Listening in, Taylor smiled. “I definitely do.”

“She loves me. All of me. And I love her… more than I can put in words. We’re gonna have a life, a future… a family.”

“I wish your mom could hear you talk like this; she would be so proud of you.”

Dammit, thought Estela, realising that crying was now inevitable. “I…” Unable to get out another word, on came the waterworks. Immediately, she felt Taylor’s arms around her.

“I’m sorry, mija… it’s just so wonderful to hear you like this. You sound different. I don’t even recall the last time I heard real happiness in your voice.”

Estela sniffed, one arm around Taylor’s middle. “I feel different. I didn’t think it was possible… being happy, not for me. We’re gonna be all right, Tio… I’m gonna come home soon. I can’t right away… I got hurt and need to rest a little while longer. But I’ll be home soon, I promise, and I will phone you every day. You’re gonna be sick of the sound of my voice.”

“I love you, Estelita… I’ll sleep easier knowing you are at peace. It’s changed here; we’re beginning to rebuild- sometimes you even see children playing in the streets again. But I have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. So much. Everything that’s happened… you honestly wouldn’t believe it. I thought I was ready for anything- but I didn’t expect anything like this. For so long I thought I would never see you again. I’m sorry for making you worry… so many times. I love you, Tio.”

“You are worth the grey hairs; don’t you mind about that. You should know how much I admire you. You have the courage of a lioness and your mother’s kind soul. I am so proud.”

Estela had to wipe away her tears. “Oh, Tio… I better go before I start crying again. I’ll call again tomorrow, okay?”

“Take care… tell your girlfriend I’m looking forward to meeting her- I have to see if she is all you deserve.” He chuckled. “Love you, mija.”

“Love you too. And you are referring to my wife…”

“Joder! I think I need to lie down. Too late for interrogation then?” Nicolas gave a bark of a laugh. “We’ll speak soon, my star.”

“Very soon, I swear. Bye… bye…” Estela was shaking as she hung up the phone, staring forward as if in a daze. Then she threw her hands to her face and squealed. That was… real. She flung herself at Taylor and hugged her tight, swinging her from side to side. “Ohmygod, Taylor! He’s okay… he’s really…” More damn tears. Happy tears for a change? Maybe she could live with that. “I’m just… I’m so, so happy…”

Taylor laughed until her sides hurt, infected by the euphoria that radiated off Estela like sunlight. All the pain they’d been faced with, the uncertainty of whether they’d even have a future together… it paled to nothing next to the sheer elation at it all being over, of the promise of love and family. She squeezed Estela tightly, falling against her as she collapsed into the bed.

She exhaled contentedly. “I am too. And I couldn’t love you more.” A mischievous grin crossed her face, and she darted her hand in to tickle Estela’s side, making her squeal again.

“Hey! Cut it out!” Estela darted sideways, with impressive agility for one sporting such a substantial wound.

“But it’s so cute when you go all squeaky…”

Taylor lunged to make another assault, but Estela was too quick, wrestling her arm away and retaliating by tickling her neck. Taylor yelped and squirmed, fighting back for just a few seconds before she was gasping for breath.

“Easy…” Estela pulled her into her lap, cradling her. “You’ve been close to dead for a week; don’t hurt yourself.”

Panting, Taylor was unnerved by how weak her body was. She leant against Estela as she got her breath back. Slowly, she was guided down onto the bed, until her head rested upon a pillow. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Estela gave the tip of her nose a little kiss. After the torture of the past week, she was protective. It was clear from looking at her that Taylor was not quite right. Recovery would need to be slow. She put her arm around her, stroking her back until she felt her muscles relax. “That’s better.”

Taylor edged closer, until she was pressed against Estela, her face just a hair’s breadth away. Caught up in her soulful stare, it was impossible not to feel at ease. Those dark eyes had a way of holding her captive. Taylor ran her hand up Estela’s thigh, over her bottom, feeling her way up her back, taking her time before finally settling at the back of her head, where she exerted a gentle pressure, pulling her into a kiss, deep and lingering. As she came away, she found herself exhausted once more.

“We’re gonna have to work up your stamina…” Estela said with a loving smirk. She cupped Taylor’s face, soaking in the adoration that she returned in spades. “Just… hold me. Please. All I’ve wanted… all I’ve wanted is to feel your arms around me.”

From somewhere deep within, through a fog of faded memory, a voice echoed in Taylor’s mind. “I need you to hold her for me.” She tilted in so that their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes. After being lost in the dark for so long, to feel Estela, to smell her, to hear her steadily breathing beside her… it was like waking to the most beautiful dream she could imagine. Taylor’s body was weak, but as her soulmate’s heart thundered alongside hers, she felt invincible.

“Estela…” she breathed, snaking her other arm around her middle, slipping her hand beneath the loose shirt and slowly, tenderly caressing her toned stomach. Beneath her fingers, she felt a quiver of pleasure. The yearning in Estela’s eyes was profound, born, Taylor knew, of pain that she’d inflicted. Never again. “If I could take away everything you endured for me…”

A finger to her lips silenced her, and she understood. No more guilt.

“Taylor…”

“My love… I could hold you for ever.”

#endless summer #choices fandom #choices fanfiction #playchoices #estela montoya #estela x mc #quinn kelly #michelle nguyen #michelle x quinn #quinn x michelle #mc x estela

30 notes · View notes

medea10 · 6 years ago

Text

My Review of My Roommate is a Cat

#anime review #my roommate is a cat #haru #subaru mikazuki #doukyonin wa hiza tokidoki atama no ue

14 notes · View notes

thefandomlesbian · 6 years ago

Note

Cordelia/Misty prompt (if you’re still taking them, of course!): Cordelia’s plants suffer when she’s blinded the first time and one of the ways Misty and Cordelia bond is when misty “shows” Cordelia how she’s brought all her plants in the greeenhouse back to full health.

Read on AO3 for the best experience!

"I’m old, not broken

leaning heavy on hope and I’m hoping

I can always close my eyes to see.” -Down Like Silver, “Any Day”

…

Heavy brown leaves draped from the many plants in the greenhouse. The building had the scent of rot attached to it. Misty strode through it with her tongue pinched between her teeth as she considered it, hands on her hips, drinking in the sight of the dead and the dying. Plants didn’t have souls. They couldn’t cry out to her. But it still hurt. She frowned and slid a tape into the player. Stevie sang to her, and she felt a little bit warmer.

This place wasn’t her home. But she could make it better while she was here.

“Misty?” Zoe pushed through the door of the greenhouse, a pursed frown on her lips. “Hey. I thought I saw you head this way.” Misty swung back to face her with a smile. “Nobody uses this place, you know. Cordelia was the only one, and now… well, obviously.” Obviously? Misty wanted to ask, but she held her tongue. It wasn’t any of her business what had happened to Cordelia, or when it had happened.

“Will anybody care if I fix it up?”

Zoe’s eyebrows quirked together. “You just came out of the jungle. Don’t you want to spend some time in civilization? We have, like, a whole TV here.”

“Nah, I never cared for TV. My mama always called it the stupid box.”

An awkward laugh coughed out of Zoe’s lungs. “Well… I mean, I guess nobody will care if you want to hang out here. Maybe ask Cordelia first, though, before you get rid of anything. She really liked it out here, until--until everything.”

She had mentioned it twice. Misty had to ask. “What happened to her?”

To her surprise, Zoe shrugged, like the whole thing was nonchalant. “Somebody threw acid in her face.” Misty ogled at her, half-expecting her to deliver some punchline on the very sick joke, but Zoe didn’t redact her statement, and instead, she pressed, “They said Myrtle did it--that was why they killed her--but Cordelia doesn’t believe it was her.” Myrtle? Misty had never considered that Myrtle had the potential to be danger. She isn’t. Cordelia knows best.

“What do you think?”

Zoe’s vacant expression made Misty wonder if she cared. “I think Fiona killed Madison, and she’s done worse than frame an innocent person for a crime.”

“Do you think Fiona did it?”

“I don’t know. Ask Cordelia.”

Yeah, I’m definitely not going to ask Cordelia if her mama was the one who threw acid in her face. Misty knew she didn’t always know the boundaries of propriety, but she knew that would cross a big line. “Right,” she hedged. Cordelia hadn’t asked her any invasive questions, and she planned to respond in kind.

“Are you coming in for dinner? We just finished cooking. You don’t have to hang out here by yourself.”

“Nah. I’m good. I’ll warm up some leftovers later.”

“Alright.” Zoe left the greenhouse, abandoning Misty in her solitude--just the way she preferred it.

…

Several days passed. Misty took the liberty of reviving the plants she recognized and bringing back their colors. She thumbed through the botany books Cordelia kept on a dusty shelf in the greenhouse and sorted the poisonous ones from the safe ones. She had no intention of messing with anything that could kill her--nothing sounded quite as embarrassing as accidentally killing herself through herbal poison.

She approached Cordelia one afternoon in the living room where Cordelia rested on the sofa with a book in her lap. Maybe I shouldn’t. She’s reading. Cordelia worshiped the pages of the book with her fingertips, smelling it, the paper and the ink scent rising up from it. But it was just that--ink. She’s not reading. She can’t see. Misty cleared her throat. “Miss Cordelia?”

The house was quiet. Everyone had left about their business, Fiona to chemotherapy, Myrtle finding the council, all of the other girls enjoying themselves. It was just them. Cordelia lifted her head. “Misty? I thought you went with Zoe.”

“Er--nah. Not my type of thing.” Misty didn’t know where Zoe had gone, but she didn’t think an afternoon of listening to Madison and Zoe and Nan all badger each other sounded much fun. Cordelia patted the cushion of the couch beside her, and Misty hesitantly took the invitation, sinking down beside her. Cordelia started to open her hand for Misty’s, but her forehead wrinkled as she reconsidered. Misty’s eyes widened, and she took Cordelia’s hand. She didn’t have anything to hide from Cordelia’s Sight. “Are you okay?”

She blurted the question. It wasn’t what she had come to talk about, but Cordelia seemed lonely. Even her touch pressed melancholy into Misty’s skin. She squeezed Misty’s hand just a little too tight, like too long had passed since someone touched her. “Yes--of course. I’m fine.” Cordelia swallowed hard. “Are you? Zoe tells me you’ve been missing meals.”

“Zoe tells me you’ve been missing meals.”

Cordelia stifled a chuckle, but her lips curled upward at the corners, and Misty celebrated the small success. “Dinner goes more smoothly if everyone doesn’t witness me stabbing myself with a fork.” The light passed over her sunglasses in a reflection, so Misty gazed back at herself. She wondered what emotion she would have seen on Cordelia’s face if she could have. Her words were wry and rueful. “What’s your excuse?”

Misty traced her thumb over the smooth back of Cordelia’s hand, feeling the way the bones and veins shifted under her skin. “I don’t like being around so many people,” she confessed. The crowd of the coven tended to drive her back out to the privacy of the greenhouse where she didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing her or mocking her. “I eat after everybody goes to bed. I ain’t starving.” She smiled as Cordelia’s hand moved against hers. The unique sensation of skin on her skin warmed her soul.

The space between their palms grew warm. Misty didn’t want to let go. “Do you like it here?”

Misty sucked her lower lip. She couldn’t lie to Cordelia, but she didn’t know the truth. “It’s better than being butchered, I figure.” It seemed a lot better, sitting here next to Cordelia, than it did when she tried to sleep in the same room with Nan. “It’s not bad. Just not what I’m used to. You know, a bunch of catty girls. I’ve seen less drama in families of squirrels.” Cordelia laughed, and this one didn’t have any dark ties to it. It was genuine. “It’s true!”

“I believe it.” Cordelia’s brow quirked in the middle of her forehead. Misty admired the wrinkle forming there. “Thank you for taking care of my plants.”

The morose tone to her words brought down Misty’s high. “I like them a lot. It’s peaceful.” Cordelia’s hand wrapped around Misty’s, giving a squeeze of appreciation. “I just--the poisonous ones, can you show me how to fix them? I want to help, but I don’t want to accidentally make myself sick.”

Inclining her eyebrows, Cordelia slid her hand away from Misty’s and closed the book in her lap, putting it off to the side. Her other hand was wrapped around the handle of her cane. “I--I’m not sure I can help you. I think it might be too much for me.”

“There’s nobody here but me,” Misty enticed. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Who did she have to tell? Except Zoe, hardly anyone talked to her.

Cordelia considered it before she nodded. “Alright.” Misty grinned, and she popped up from the couch. Cordelia was a little slower to stand. She fumbled to take Misty’s arm for guidance. She gave it a little squeeze. Misty led the way from the house, careful to take things slowly; she realized Cordelia had hardly left the house since her accident. She took the steps one at a time. The cracked sidewalk caught her cane on every bump, but Misty didn’t rush her. She had nothing but time.

The floral scents of the greenhouse washed over them. Cordelia took a long, audible breath through her nose, drinking in the essence of the room. Her silence lingered. She spoke when she was ready. “You’ll need gloves.” She unwrapped her hand from around Misty’s arm. Misty fetched the gloves and garden shears like she was instructed. “Which one are you using now?”

“I was starting with the belladonna.”

Misty loomed over the pretty plant, resisting the urge to bend over and breathe in the scent of the pretty bluish flowers. “You can smell it. The spores won’t hurt you.” She settled her hand on Misty’s elbow, like she feared letting her stray too far. “All of the plant is toxic, though. Always make sure you wash up after you handle it.” Her aura at Misty’s side was warm and welcoming. Misty liked having her there. “And try not to touch it with your bare skin.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Once I got poison ivy in places you do not want poison ivy, and that really makes a person rethink botany as a practice.” She had made the horrible mistake of peeing in an unfamiliar bush far downstream from her shack, and she had had the rash for days all over her ass and more intimate parts. Cordelia snorted, trying to restrain her laugh, but she failed at it. “Oh, you laugh now. Wait til you’re scratching your ass from here to Timbuktu ‘cause you forgot how many leaves a poison ivy plant has. And things that aren’t your ass!”

Cordelia put up a valiant battle to maintain her composure, but Misty was trying to make her laugh, and she knew it. Her face flushed bright red as she giggled, stifling it behind her hand, but she couldn’t bottle it up. Things kept escaping through her pinched lips. Misty’s own laugh burbled in her chest as she joined Cordelia in joy. She relished in the sound of Cordelia’s freedom. She had never heard Cordelia express herself so freely before, so joyously, and she celebrated it.

It took Cordelia a moment to collect herself. “How many leaves are on poison ivy?”

“I dunno, three or five.”

She laughed again in a short burst, placing her hand on the small of Misty’s back. Oh, boy, I like that a lot. “It’s three.”

“There you go, it’s three. I don’t need to know anything as long as I’ve got you around, right?” Misty asked cheekily. Cordelia chuckled. “Where do I start with this thing?” she asked about the belladonna.

Cordelia cleared her throat. “Just trim off all of the parts that are unkempt and do what you did with the others. Don’t leave the trimmings out where any animals can get to them.”

“Gotcha.”

Cordelia’s instructions were easy to follow, and she did exactly as she was directed until the pretty blue flowers perked up again and the brown leaves greened to their former hue. “Wow. It turned all pretty again.”

The other woman smiled back at her. “This one is my favorite.” Her expression had a certain sadness to it.

“Wanna see?”

“What?”

“The flowers. Do you wanna see ‘em? I’ll look at ‘em for you.”

It struck her, the absolutely oddness of the conversation--how absolutely crazy her words would have sounded to anyone who didn’t understand them. But Misty stripped off the gardening gloves and touched the inside of Cordelia’s wrist in offering. Cordelia put her cane aside, took her hands, and folded their fingers together like pieces of paper forming origami configurations. Misty grounded herself in the moment. Then she focused on the task before her, starting with the bright asters and traveling around the greenhouse with her eyes.

The hues were like all the seasons at once. Orange and red bled into green and yellow, and blue and violet flashed with the bluebells and cornflowers. And when she finished, her eyes landed back on Cordelia’s face, admiring the blush to her cheeks and the awestruck smile upon her lips.

The silence stretched before them, a canvas untouched by brush. Cordelia said, “Now you’re just looking at me.”

“You are the prettiest flower in here.” Cordelia ducked her head in embarrassment. Misty reached across the table beside her and picked an innocent violet off of its stem, and she tucked it under the earpiece on Cordelia’s sunglasses. “There. Represent.”

Her face flamed. “You’re silly.” Cordelia tiptoed closer to her, and she pulled Misty into a hesitant hug. “Thank you, Misty.”

The petals of the violet brushed Misty’s cheek. “Thank you.” She rested her chin on Cordelia’s shoulder. I’d really like to kiss her right now. Shame rose to her own cheeks, and she struggled to ignore it.

However, Cordelia did not ignore it. “Then do it,” she whispered right to Misty’s ear.

Misty withdrew for second, fearing she had misheard, and she found equal apprehension on Cordelia’s face, fearing she had spoken out of hand. She cupped Cordelia’s cheek in one hand and kissed her once on the mouth, a timid peck. “Like that?”

There was no darkness to Cordelia’s final smile. “Just like that.”

6 notes · View notes

samayla · 7 years ago

Text

Fic: Gemini Chapter 12

AO3

Bilbo may be a Baggins of a Bag End, but his twin sister Bella inherited all their mother’s Tookish tendencies. If one Hobbit burglar is good, surely two will be better… right?

Rating: G

Hello everyone! I'm so glad you're all still reading and enjoying this story! Nearly 20,000 words, and we are *finally* leaving the Shire! The next couple of chapters need a little bit of work yet, as I got distracted and started writing on the other side of the Misty Mountains this past week, so I will, unfortunately, probably not be posting the next chapter on Wednesday. I'm terribly sorry about that... But hopefully, if all goes according to plan, I will have it up by this time next week! You can look forward to hearing from some new dwarves as we finally get on the road, as well as reading some scenes that did not occur in the movie. We'll still be following the bones of it and the book, but I'm planning more and more to build up my own story here. Twice the burglars means twice the trouble, after all, though I seriously doubt Thorin would have signed on either one of them if he'd known that! Cheers to you all!

Chapter 1: Late for Dinner

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Party

Chapter 3: No One West of Bree

Chapter 4: A Gentledwarf

Chapter 5: A Much-Needed Ally

Chapter 6: Petunias

Chapter 7: Wild Things

Chapter 8: Right Next Door

Chapter 9: Axe or Sword

Chapter 10: Eavesdropping

Chapter 11: A Sound Argument

Chapter 12: Tookish

“So, what brings you two up here so early in the morning?” Bilbo asked, pouring tea for his unexpected guests. “If it’s about the front garden, I really have no idea what happened out there. I’m terribly sorry for the extra work, but it was all in fine order when I had my last smoke before supper last night.”

Holman Greenhand waved away Bilbo’s concern. “Not to worry, Mister Bilbo. Ham and I’ll have that put to rights in no time at all. It’ll take more’n a few trampled daisies to set us back, eh, Ham?”

Hamfast nodded. Then shook his head hastily. The poor lad still hadn’t managed to settle around Bilbo, despite his and Holman’s best efforts over the past few weeks.

“I just can’t imagine what happened out there,” Bilbo laughed, passing the sugar bowl to Hamfast. “Looks like the whole garden was trampled by an oliphaunt!”

Holman waved away Hamfast’s silent offer of the sugar bowl. “Well, it may have been yer, well, er, guests, Mister Bilbo. If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, that is. Rather, er… mixed party you had up here last night, by all accounts.”

They sipped their tea in silence for a few moments, while Bilbo tried to imagine what the gardener could mean. His splitting headache and muddy dressing gown both pointed to rather a rough night, but aside from the squashed plants out front, everything seemed to be in order around the smial.

Finally, obviously uncomfortable, Holman seemed to brace himself up, and he spoke at last. “Which brings us to the reason we’re up here, Mister Bilbo. Young Ham has a bit of, well, a bit of a tale to tell you, and I think it’s best you hear it from him, if you’re willing.”

Bilbo had a sinking feeling Hamfast’s tale would have something to do with Bella. The thought made him feel unaccountably wretched — even moreso than his hangover had been doing — and he was struck with the notion that he might have a part in the story, and it might not be a terribly heroic one. Still, if there was one lesson he’d taken from his parents, it was to face up to a problem, rather than hide from it. He took one more fortifying sip of his tea. “Go ahead, Master Hamfast.”

Hamfast turned bright red and seemed suddenly intent on finishing every last drop of his tea, though it was surely still far too hot for that to be a comfortable endeavor.

“None of that now, Ham,” Holman scolded, relieving the lad of his cup. “If you can tell it to Bell Goodchild, you can certainly tell it to Mister Bilbo!”

Hamfast fidgeted with his teaspoon. “Well, Mister Bilbo, you see… I didn’t mean nothing by it, honest. Just Bell, that is, Miss Goodchild, well, she’s…”

“Ain’t a soul in the Shire don’t know you’re sweet on her, Ham. Get on with the story.”

Hamfast, bright red again, right to the tips of his ears, did as he was told. “Well, after that business down at Old Wil’s last night, everyone was —”

The doorbell cut him off, followed by a flurry of knocking that made Bilbo’s head throb. He looked from the pair of hobbits seated at his table, toward the rattling front door, and back again. “Oh, bother,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’d best see what that’s all about, before they knock the door in.”

“Of course,” Holman said at once.

The bell rang again, followed by yet more pounding on the door, and Bilbo began to suspect disgruntled relatives were the culprits: only Sackville-Bagginses ever engaged in such theatrics so early in the morning. “I’m coming,” Bilbo shouted crossly, tugging his dressing gown more securely around himself.

Bilbo opened the door and sighed.

Disgruntled relatives.

Otho Sackville-Baggins nearly fell through the door, so intent was he on beating upon it. Beside him was his new wife Lobelia, her hand poised to ring the bell yet again, and Bilbo’s aunt Camellia hovered self-importantly behind the pair.

“Green Lady!” Bilbo exclaimed as Otho stumbled upright and straightened his jacket. “Whatever happened to your face, Otho?” He dimly remembered Bella beginning to cry. You sound like Otho. Had he taken their cousin’s side in some argument last night?

“Belladonna happened, Bilbo,” Camellia answered coldly. “Once again, I wake to find that Tookish sister of yours has wreaked utter havoc upon this family. Utter havoc!”

Bilbo desperately did not want to deal with that. Certainly not before he’d spoken with Bella. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Aunt Camellia, but I’ve got Masters Greenhand and Gamgee in for tea just now, and —”

“Marvelous,” his aunt declared, breezing past Bilbo with her son and new daughter-by-marriage in tow. “We’d love a cup.”

Holman and Hamfast, ever the gentlehobbits, gave up their chairs to the new arrivals, so Bilbo sent Hamfast into the dining room to fetch a couple more chairs while he put on another kettle of water. The lad seemed grateful for a task to keep him busy.

A telltale squeak drew Bilbo’s attention. “Wait!” he shouted, whirling to see Holman about to sit on Grandpa Mungo’s chair. “Not that one!” He turned to Hamfast, who had just returned with a third chair for Bilbo. “You were supposed to be getting chairs from the dining room, Hamfast,” he scolded gently, perplexed as to why the younger hobbit would have gone all the way to the sitting room for that particular chair.

“I-I did, Mister Bilbo.”

Bilbo sent him in for a different chair, muttering to himself about what the antique could have been doing in the dining room.

“Bilbo,” Aunt Camellia hissed. “I really don’t know that this is an appropriate conversation to be having in front of the help.”

Bilbo blinked. “Why on earth shouldn’t I talk about misplaced chairs in front of my gardeners?”

“Bilbo Baggins!” his aunt boomed. “I meant the conversation about your sister!”

Bilbo winced at her volume but refused to rise to his aunt’s manner. He’d weathered far too many a storm on this particular front to be much affected. He continued making tea. “Oh, you mean that business about Otho’s nose. Well, honestly, if Otho and Bella got into a fight last night, I’d imagine half the Shire’s heard about it by now, so I cannot see what difference the presence of my really very excellent gardeners could possibly make. More tea, Holman?”

Camellia flushed at being passed over for the first cup of tea.

“Er, no,” Holman said, glancing between Bilbo and his offended aunt and back again. “Thank you, Mister Bilbo.”

“And you, Master Hamfast?”

“Yes, please, sir,” the lad squeaked. He was sandwiched between Holman and Otho, and he looked positively terrified.

Camellia huffed to herself. Then cleared her throat. Then coughed. And huffed again.

“Aunt Camellia,” Bilbo snapped, setting a plate of lemon balm cookies down in front of the two gardeners, “I am well aware that you have not been served.”

“Well—”

“However,” Bilbo continued, cutting across her and continuing to serve the help, “I would like to point out that Masters Greenhand and Gamgee are my guests. I invited them in for a cup of tea this morning, a courtesy which I did not, in fact, have a chance to extend to you three, before you barged in here, evicted my friends from their seats, and proceeded to abuse them for holding a most noble profession. I have had it up to here with un… er… uninvited… guests…” He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. There was something tickling at the back of his mind — something he was fairly certain was unpleasant. Bilbo shook his head and simply sat, outright refusing to serve the Sackville-Bagginses. Bella would be proud of him.

“Well,” Camellia snapped. “Well! If you are not concerned about the rumors that will be started, then why should I be?” She paused as though hoping Bilbo might reconsider their audience, but he only took a bite of a cookie and waited, determined not to be flustered by his aunt’s domineering manner. She huffed once more. “Otho was injured in trying to defend your sister from dwarves! A whole troupe of axe-wielding ruffians from the other side of the Wild!”

Hamfast bounced excitedly in his seat, nearly causing Holman to overturn his teacup. “That’s why I’m here, Mister Bilbo! My Bell saw her down in the market. Said they were on their way to slay a troll!”

“Dragon, actually,” Bilbo corrected absently as he poured himself another cup of tea. A moment later, his mind caught up with his mouth, and he set the teapot down hard enough to crack it. Weak tea seeped out over the tablecloth, but Bilbo paid no mind to the spreading stain.

“I seen her headed out Bywater way early this morning, Mister Bilbo! Sporting two great big packs, she was, as if she means to be off with them dwarves a good long while.”

Camellia looked rather put out that Hamfast had stolen her story. She made a vain attempt to regain control. “It’s that wizard who’s —”

Gandalf. Erebor. The dragon.

I’ll do it.

“I’ve, uh, I’m sorry,” Bilbo stammered, surging to his feet. “I’ve got to go.”

He stood, but Otho stepped in his way, apparently done with being ignored. “You’d best get that sister of yours in check, Bilbo Baggins, for if she insists upon carrying on in such a way, we’ll have no choice but to wash our hands of her. And you, too, by association.” He jabbed one thick finger into Bilbo’s chest. “You may be willing to risk your good name for your wild, Tookish, shameful excuse for a sister —”

Bilbo punched him.

Then dashed down the hall.

Back in his bedroom, he exchanged his dressing gown for trousers and grabbed his favorite red jacket. He came back out, straightening his suspenders as he went, to find Holman standing in the front hall. “Watch over the place, would you, Holman?” he asked, tossing on his jacket. “And, er,” he glanced toward the kitchen, where he could still hear the female Sackville-Bagginses wailing and carrying on. “Show that lot out, would you? I’m terribly sorry about all this.”

“Nonsense, Mister Bilbo. Ham and I’ll take care of everything.” Holman handed Bilbo his walking stick and a sheaf of parchment labelled in ornate handwriting. “Bella’s left this for you, too, Mr Bilbo. Said I was to give it to you if you showed signs of wanting to leave, and only then.” Bilbo started to unfold the parchment, but Holman all but pushed him out the door. “No time for that now. She said you’d be late. Off you go then. Don’t worry about a thing!”

#HobbitGemini #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #hobbit fic #gandalf #fili #kili #balin #dwalin #ori #dori #nori #oin #gloin #bifur #bofur #bombur #mywriting

1 note · View note

zalrb · 7 years ago

Note

I don't know if you were asked this but was there ever any scenes from a tv show/movie etc that made you cry? or at least get misty-eyed?

Most recently, I get misty-eyed and/or cry at 80% of Pose FX scenes.

I’ve said this before but Pose FX is a far from perfect show, the dialogue can be cliched and corny, the acting can be over-the-top and stilted, certain turns are ones you can see from a mile away but the content and the passion, the sheer passion of the cast has made it one of the most emotional TV-watching experiences for me because you love these characters, care about these characters, want to see them succeed and flourish, you cry because you’re happy for them or you cry because you’re devastated for them, it’s true sentiment as opposed to being emotionally manipulative.

I was misty-eyed during the Battle of Hogwarts in the final movie because I was really emotional during Pt 2 of Deathly Hallows in a way I didn’t expect. I remember finishing the final book and I was like oh, damn, but there were still the movies to look forward to but the final movie was like the end of my childhood, the end of an era and seeing particularly, McGonagall tell the knights to defend the school and seeing the shield being broken by the Death Eaters just had a whole bunch of feelings hit me at once.

Goblin made me misty-eyed pretty much every episode and there are a couple of scenes where I have cried because Goblin is just an emotional rollercoaster, you get choked up when they’re happy with each other because they’re so cute it’s heartbreaking, you get teary-eyed when the show gets into the particular stories of the people Grim Reaper has to ferry to the afterlife, some of which are people that Shin/the Goblin has helped in the past or incarnations of people he knew in his human life and then there are just the sad moments that tear you up.

I was misty-eyed during Something In The Rain

My god, that drama was an emotional rollercoaster and the leads have outstanding chemistry and gave their all into the acting so that when Joon Hee listens to Jin Ah’s voice note and he’s crying because he’s just so happy to hear how much she loves him it makes me really happy so I start getting misty-eyed.

I was misty-eyed in Sons of Anarchy when Jax finds Tara dead because Charlie Hunnam did that pain really well, I think and just the circumstance of how it happened, when Jax finally, finally does right by his family by putting them above the club, Tara is brutally murdered. It was just sad.

I was misty-eyed in Jane The Virgin when Michael died and I actually just watched the scene on YouTube because I hadn’t been watching JTV after 3x04.

I get misty-eyed in Spartacus when he’s forced to kill his best friend for entertainment

I got misty-eyed in The Handmaid’s Tale when June and Moira are reunited and they have that … it’s not really a confrontation but when they have that discussion

I get misty-eyed when Joyce dies in Buffy The Vampire Slayer

I cried in Orange Is The New Black when Poussey died and I stopped watching it after that but I saw the clip of the new season when Taystee screams how she misses her so much and I cried then too.

Underground made me cry because the subject matter is deeply personal to me and the writers and directors are unapologetic with the realities of enslavement and the actors bring the humanity and the resilience of the enslaved peoples to life and pretty much after every episode I need to decompress.

12 Years A Slave made me cry for pretty much the same reason.

Selma made me cry because once again the subject matter is important to me and seeing the strength and resilience in the face of all that adversity instilled me with pride but the adversity is of course hard to watch.

In Queen Sugar, there are so many moments that make me misty-eyed but I straight up cried when Blue’s grandfather dies

and when we find out what happened with Micah when a police officer pulled him over

I didn’t cry during Moonlight but I was just profoundly moved and very melancholy for the rest of the day after I saw it, I basically just spent the day in a quiet headspace and just deeply affected.

If I ever watch Boyz N The Hood, I always cry when Ricky dies.

I always cry when Mufasa dies in The Lion King. It’s fucked up and I’ll hate Disney forever for doing this to me.

I’ve only watched Bambi twice because it bored me as a child, it was way too long but I do cry when Bambi’s mom dies, because what the hell Disney.

The Fox and the Hound also fucks me up

And The Land Before Time

We’ll leave it at this for now.

#selma #moonlight #underground wgn #queen sugar #12 years a slave #harry potter #boyz n the hood #the handmaid's tale #spartacus #sons of anarchy #orange is the new black #jane the virgin #trigger warning #tw

34 notes · View notes

brokebooklover · 9 months ago

Text

Just finished In Memorium by Alice Winn and I'm BEGGING everyone else to read it

#it made me cry twice (hard for a book to do) and i got misty eyed several times #its gorgeous and horrific and amazing #and its single-handedly made me interested in learning about WW1 #which combined with my love of the late Roman Republic/early Roman Empire makes me a middle aged father of 2

0 notes

aguysthumbnail-blog · 8 years ago

Text

A Short Unlovely Story (Chapter 1)

I clicked down the phone. An unusual silence flooded the whole room, it was a dim and dark place I was in, a no-moon night standing outside the window. Out there, you could see some yellowish spotlights trying to fight hard with a dense smoke coming from nowhere. That was misty alike, and despite of the reason I’d find to be there, honestly, I shouldn’t ever got myself in that place again. I told myself. I promised it, and repeated to me too many times that I just lost the sum. Do you like mysteries? This is not a mystery. Actually, you might close this book as soon as you wouldn’t like occasional stories. Because, I’m going to dissect to you not only my self personality, but someone else’s personalities, which would worth enough a tale. Or not. I’m not sure. A few minutes before my smartphone had rang. And, a few minutes before I saw a picture that my mind isn’t used yet to face up. Yeah! I don’t know if it’s only with lazy people or if I’m imagining things, but since I saw that mien when the screen on my phone had turned on, I thought about everything but a single reason to reply. Then, I’d lazily stretched my right arm and, with my hand I picked up the phone and turned it over on the table, screen now was facing down that dark wooden flatted surface. I truly, truly thought that that should be an enough response to that call I had received from that, is still unnamed, person. The phone rang and rang, I counted until six and finally everything around were nothing but a divine untouchable silence. I felt relieved, took a brief breath and then: another call. The second one. No needed to turn the phone to guess who were the person that had been called me again. It was that same girl. Unnamed yet. I let a word come out of my mouth, not as loud as I could, because silence was more than just something I’d want in there. It was an order. At least at that time in the night, at least in that moment. I shouldn’t speak loudly or your dad would find me there, totally alone right in your bedroom. Questions, then, might be asked. And that would be a second order to me to answer whatever your father could call from myself. I can imagine that. I said “crap!”, just after I saw that the phone started to vibrate and ring my favorite and usual tone for twice. I couldn’t help myself to turn the phone, so I’d see that picture again. Definitely, I wasn’t used to that. As I’m still not. I gathered every piece of confidence, took a second breath, and this one was this time slower than the first breath. Made a blow. Breath over and over, even more slowly, until I’d find it sure that my lungs were completely loaded with air. Then, I pressed the screen right on the button that brought me that call. “Hi!”, a girly and childlike voice had greeted me, I said nothing in response, so that no-named girl had gone ahead telling me what would’ve moved her to look for my phone number and, after four failed attempts, call me. I listened. Quiet and, I’m going to confess, interested. “John, please, I perfectly know that we’d fight last night, and we aren’t a couple anymore. We’d broke up, so there's some time we might give ourselves to think. I don’t care about giving someone a time, we’re always to busy doing ourselves a certain amount of tasks, our daily chores, which it’s pretty normal in a relationship to ask for a time to think. OK. I can live with it. I can handle that. But, please, please, I’m begging you for a minute of attention. I’m feeling in need to talk. John, please, listen to me.” “I’m listen,” I shortly said. She blown on her microphone, which caused an irritant noise. I guessed that she was crying on her side of the line, I held it. No more words, as she continued. “I-I”, then an instantly silence almost got me back to that room I was. She was babbling so hard that it was good that she’d got a time to breath and try to chill a little, before going on. This time her voice sounded quite under her control, and I kept listening, “I know that you’re there.” How’d you know…? I mouth-said that, I couldn’t help myself. “I followed you”, she said. Easy peasy. How in this world I’d let her follow me like that? How couldn’t I think about that while I was up ahead to your home? Dumb, it was my first thought. I, now, could bet that she was grinning in her side. She was probably feeling glad by that spy skills she has had for pursuing that way, or whatever she’d be of thinking. She is crazy! But I held a little more. I shouldn’t lost patience and start to play her game. She was playing with me, and I knew it right. My response to that was just a mumble. I mumbled, and she hadn’t speak for a while. “So?” her voice broke the silence, it seemed too close to my ear that my heart almost started to run on its beats. “SO?”, I mocked. “Won’t you say nothing?” “About what?” “I followed you!” “Hmm…” It should be enough. It wasn’t, for her. “Jo!”, she startled. “Don’t call me Jo.” “Why?” “You can’t,” I answered. I was definitely going through her silly game. “Can’t I?” “Yeah! You can’t,” I repeated. She knows I don’t like to say things twice. “Gimme a reason.” I slapped my forehead. I’m so dumb! I was perfectly being trapped in that useless game, as if I was a simply rat following its instincts to chase the cheese. There’s a yellow delicious cheese! Would think any little mice. Than a pace inside the cage. Someone should’ve forgot this here, I’m a lucky rat! No, you are not. You aren’t wearing your lucky tiny socks, today. Are you? So, you got a bad luck and the gate from that cage just came down, locking you inside. And this is an old way to catch a mouse. I was the dumbest one the minute I replied that call, to be honest. “Well,” I laughed, perhaps she noticed the sarcasm on my voice when I proceed. “You should’ve not been wasting your time following people. You better get something useful to do.” “And when it’s up to you?” she answered, quickly. I couldn’t find words to reply that easy, so I thought. She continued: “you’re the worthier for me. You’ve deserved to be followed.” “Lucia,” and then I did my second big mistake. Saying her name would probably tells her that I’m still thinking on her. As I told you, she’s crazy! Who knows what a sick mind would’ve got inside? So, I mightn’t step a pace without any confidence. Without any before-pondered thoughts. “I’m listening,” she told after noticing I was quiet again. Quieted? Muted! “And if I love her instead of you?” I shall act straightly with her, or she wouldn’t hear me. She’d keep playing like that. And I wanted to put that off as soon as possible, it was bothering me a lot to be talking with her. If it was possible, I wouldn’t ever see her once again. “And if you love me”, a pause, “ instead of her?” I proceeded. “And if she's the right person?” “And if I am the right person?” Silence. I closed my eyes, inflated air to my lungs. Trying to keep calmness, trying to stop that conversation I should haven’t had, ever, with her. “And if she is my soulmate?” “Do-do you believe in soulmates?” Lucia stuttered. I grinned a few seconds before I’d confirm with a short yea, she couldn’t handle that. “But you told me that you don’t believe in superstitions. Either you don’t think that there’s a destined person for everyone.” “Well, I guess I changed my mind.” A sob. She sobbed. I kept that no-words type. “Why?” Her voice sounded a bit out of the usual tone, it came a little cocky. I asked what? “Why don’t you love me, John?” Why do not you love me? I thought about that question. I’m still thinking yet, to tell you the truth. Even whilst I’m composing this short story, I’ve got between my thoughts that inquire resounding here, inside. As if it was a little brat repeating the same words from time to time. Unstoppable. On that moment she’d ask me that, I remember I said anything random that came into my mouth. I just whispered that answer back, and she let out a cry. She yelled my name, her voice completely out of her control. I swallowed hard. I felt a warmth flooding my face, which I guessed that was the blood flowing there. I closed my eyes, got a glance out of the window where I could see her. She was standing right in front your porch, among your roses and tulips. Her face was stoned, and I could peeked her lips trembling a few times. Salt water washed that smooth pale skin she has, and I clicked down the phone. You’d opened the door behind me. A heart started to beat faster. It was mine.

1 note · View note

ad-flores-blog · 8 years ago

Text

The Girl On the Rooftop

DAN's NARRATIVE

I used to be the kind of guy who didn't believe in ghosts. For me they were just made up stories, tales to scare the children or to make the world more interesting. But everything changed the day after I had that accident. The accident that almost took my life. I could still remember how the pain throbbed in my head. It was breaktime, and I was walking outside the cafeteria which was under renovation. Part of the wall suddenly collapsed and before I knew it, I was under the rubble and could feel the weight of the debris pressing me down. All I could feel was pain all over my body. The next thing I knew, I was rescued and was inside the ambulance, its siren blaring loudly. To cut the story short, I survived. After I recovered, I went back to school. That day, everything was back to normal. Well, almost.

I came upon my two bestfriends at the hallway, we talked about the usual stuff. The teacher talked about this and that but my mind was floating away as usual. I was staring out the window, waiting for the bell to ring. When it did, I ran off and quickly made my way up to the school's rooftop. After classes, it had always been my habit to go up the rooftop and spend some time there. I prefer that instead of going straight home and witness my parents' never ending quarrels. So that day, I once again laid down my back on the cold rooftop floor staring at the blue sky being smeared with a fiery hue of orange as the evening approaches. This was my sanctuary every afternoon. Funny thing, it felt so right to say that this place is where I belong, where I always belonged.

However, I soon learned that not everything came back to normal. As my mind soared as high as the sky I was admiring, I heard this soft sound coming from somewhere near me. I sat up and was surprised to see a shape hunched down in front of me. It was like a mist taking shape. I gaped in disbelief at such a sight. It was a girl, parts of her kept on shifting like smoke but I could make out the white blouse she was wearing along with the navy blue tie and skirt that is the girls' uniform in our school. She was kneeling down while her face was buried on her hands so I couldn't really identify her, but it was evident that she had pale skin and her hair was tied up in a ponytail. She looked like the same age as me. I rubbed my eyes thinking that I was just imagining her but the girl stayed there, crying and sobbing. I was more amazed than afraid that time. I slowly reached for her, not knowing why I did... But before my fingertips could touch her pale arm, she looked up and I saw her face. It was like a smudged painting, and a huge black mouth opened to gape at me. That was when it all turned to fear and I ran for the stairs taking three steps at a time. I couldn't even scream, it was like the fear gripped me in the throat. When I reached the first floor of our school building, I just sat on a corner and calmed myself until my breathing returned to normal. I knew it couldn't be my imagination, all that time she was crying in front of me. I came up with only one explanation: There's a ghost on our school's rooftop. *** I once read a book about the spiritual world, and there was this theory there that people who experienced a life or death situation and were able to survive often come back as individuals more sensitive to what some call as 'the other side'. In simpler terms, escaping the brink of death can open your third eye. I thought about this the next day as I stared out of our classroom's window. I didn't tell anyone about what I saw. All my years in this school and I haven't heard any rumor about ghosts lurking in our building. It felt like I should keep it to myself, like there was a reason why only I was able to see her. The bell rang, and with my courage I made my way to the rooftop. I sat there, and moments later she appeared beside me. This time, she sat hugging her legs to her torso, her body still formed by something like smoke or mist. Her face was still smudged, like an ink blot shifting from time to time. I told myself not to run like I did yesterday, and so I stayed. Suddenly, the girl thrust her palm in the place where her left eye should have been, as if trying to wipe a tear. Then her misty body started to shake, she was crying again. I didn't feel fear anymore. I realized this spirit won't hurt me anyway so I just observed her, looking for any sign of identification. I found none. "Why are you crying?" I muttered before realizing that I just did. There was no response, the girl just kept on weeping. I didn't ask again. I sat there with her for some time, my eyes shifting from the sky to her, and back to the sky again. It was almost dark when the girl stopped crying. She stood up and started to walk for the stairs, my eyes following her steps. With every step the girl faded, until I was left alone sitting on the cold rooftop floor. *** For some days I've been going up the rooftop to see her. I tried going there on lunchbreak but she never showed up. On the contrary, I always saw her after the classes were dismissed, except for two consecutive days that somehow she didn't appear. She always sat there, hunched down, kneeling down, crying everytime. One thing I observed was that the harder she wept, the clearer her image becomes. Twice I saw her face clearly, it was weird but I found her beautiful. Even though she was crying hard, she looked beautiful. As her crying ceased, she would slowly fade until no sign of her was left. Those days I've been thinking about her. I asked some of my classmates and even the school staff if they've encountered anything creepy in the school. Nothing. As time went by, I've been more and more convinced that she needed something from me. On the eighth day, something came up. It was the conversation of two adults that I overheard as I was walking past the hallway. "Looks like the school got successful suppressing the news about that student's death." One of them said. "Tsk tsk, that's true." the other replied. "I never saw it on the news. After some weeks nobody in this school had been talking about it as well." I quickly turned around to see who they were but the hallway was so crowded that I never saw them. That afternoon when she showed up on the rooftop I told her about what I heard. I told her I'd find out what happened to her. "That's what you need right? For whatever happened to you to be exposed." But she stayed there, crying. Not a sign that she had heard a single word from what I said. "I'll help you, no matter what it takes." I said, not knowing why I felt determined… Why I felt concerned for this ghost in front of me, and why I felt that I was running out of time. ***

THE REAPER's NARRATIVE

I stood up from the vacant seat inside the cinema. This movie is boring, I decided. People screaming and running from a killer. Why do most people fear death? They'll all end up dying anyway. But thinking about it, they fear what they do not know. They never know what comes after their last breath escapes their body, that's why they're afraid. The possibility of hell, of being reincarnated as some insect, the fear of losing their loved ones, or just the fear of not existing anymore. These poor souls worry about leaving their world, even when the world is filled with pain and cruelty itself. And yet they still linger, for what they call emotions. Sunlight streamed down the busy streets when I got out of the movie house. I crossed the road, the vehicles were passing through my body. A car driver who passed right through me suddenly touched the back of his neck. He might have felt me. People are busy, going on different directions. People I'll get to meet someday, when their time comes. But for now, I have someone else to fetch. *** After I got off the bus, I walked for some distance until I reached their front gate. Many of the students were flooding out of the gate while I walked right past through them. There was a huge clock that read 5:34 PM, I knew then where to go. The sky had turned orange, I always liked the color. I climbed the steps of the stairs, higher and higher until I reached my destination. There were two people on the rooftop as I expected, their backs were turned on me. One was still a soul inside a living body and the other was the soul I was about to fetch. I took a few steps forward before I spoke in a voice you will describe as cold. "Your time is up, you need to go." I offered my hand. They never fail to look 'intimidated' when the souls I fetch see me. "W-who are you?" "I come by many names: Death, Grim Reaper, The Reaper of Souls… And I am here to fetch you, Dan." ***

DAN's NARRATIVE

"W-what are you talking about?!" I stammered. He is the reaper, and he is about to fetch me?! And he knew my name! "Don't you get it? You're dead." The talking creature replied in a voice that sent shivers to my spine. "Y-you're mistaken, I.. I can't be dead, I'm not dead!" I turned to the ghost girl beside me. All this time she was still crying. "Maybe you're talking about her!" I said pointing at her. "She's the ghost here!" My heart was a hammer in my chest. "Let me ask you a question, Dan. What do you remember after being crushed by that wall?" "The wall?" he's referring to my accident. "I… I remembered being on the ambulance… and I… I…" "Do you remember waking up in a hospital bed? Or seeing your parents after the accident? Do you remember anything like that Dan?" "I…. I was…" I racked my brain but I can't remember anything. Nothing but some of the cloudy faces I saw when I opened my eyes inside the ambulance. I tried hard but that was the last thing I could remember. "You were dead on arrival." the creature in front of me declared. "You died on that ambulance Dan." My chest was filled with dread. No, this can't be true. I'm not dead. "But my classmates! They can hear me, they can see me!" I protested. "They are but illusions Dan. This is not the world of the living anymore. Your subconscious made them up. Your instinct of survival did not die with you, you are making yourself believe that you still exist." "My subconscious? If I'm dead how could I have a subconscious?" I asked. "You have everything your living body had, except one: existence." the creature had a smile on its face, almost a warming smile. As he explained everything, I started to realize all the loopholes of this world. I don't remember going home everyday after school, or coming from home every morning. I've been inside this school building all this time. I looked up and saw that the sky had changed. It looked like a puddle of different colors, none of it looked real. "There are very few things that are real in this world Dan. One is this school, this is really your school. Let us say you're on the other side of this school, you occupied this place and made up your own world within it. Meanwhile, on the other side of this world, the living occupies this place." I can't say I understood all his explanation, but it didn't matter to me now. I cannot speak anymore, can't make a protest. All I feel right now is just defeat. The Reaper pointed to the crying girl. I realized that she now looked as clear as day. "She is real as well." I shot a confused look on the Reaper. What did he just say? She's real? "You mean-" "She is from the world of the living. Don't you remember her?" I looked at her, she had stopped crying and is now staring blankly at the rooftop floor. Her face, why does it look so familiar? "Oh no… Rian." Was all that I could mutter, but my girlfriend never heard me. *** I stared in disbelief at the girl in front of me. Rian, how could I have forgotten you? "Don't feel guilty," the Reaper spoke again. "Your mind blocked her. When this world was created, your subconscious kept it simple- a simple routine of your everyday school life, because any complication may make you realize this world's loopholes. She, was a complication thus she was removed. However, everytime she comes up here to grieve for you, the connection between you two becomes so strong that she goes visible to your world. Remember the two days she didn't show up? It was because of the weekends. There were no classes." I didn't care whatever the Reaper said anymore. I just watched her there, watched her closely. She kept staring at nothing, biting her lower lip. All this time, my girlfriend was crying her heart out in front of me, and all I did was watch. "Dan…" I heard her mutter my name before slowly bursting into tears once again. It broke my heart recognizing that voice of hers. That voice that so many times called my name in an endearing manner, that voice that so many times spoke to me and said the words "I love you Dan." I remember lying here on this very spot, our hands held tight while we watched the blue sky being smeared with a fiery hue of orange. We shared our dreams together, believing that we'll share our future together. We were wrong. "I'm sorry..." I realized I was crying with her. I put my hand over her cheek but felt nothing. Now I can't make her stop crying, I can't goof around and make her smile. I can never make her smile, never again. "It is time to go, Dan." the Reaper announced. ***

THE REAPER's NARRATIVE

I pity them. These poor souls wishing to stay, just because they couldn't leave those who grieve for them. Even if I tell them that it would take me years before I can return for their souls. I warned him, that it would not be long before the girl stops going up that rooftop. The living would need to move on after all, but the dead... It takes more time for the dead to let go. Just like most of them, he chose to stay. I could still remember his voice, trying to hide the sadness. "I'll stay here on this rooftop, until she stopped crying; until she stops coming up here. I'll be happy then, because I know that she's out there, living her life even though I'm no longer part of it." And with that, I left another poor soul alone in this cold cold world.

0 notes