#look I have a lot of feelings but they’re all tied up in the complicated nature of being a new student who’s terrified

[thebluestbluewords]

anti-Valentine’s Valentine’s date

I tried SO HARD to write the adorable Jal prompt that I received for Jalentines day, and instead of cute all my brain wanted to write was angst. Set in approximately D2, it’s a 3k lead-in to a longer Jal fic that I’m probably not going to finish writing.

*

Mal kicks the door of the boy's dorm open with the heel of the stupid, impractical strappy sandals she's been wearing since before dinner. 

Or at least, that's what she tries to do. Instead, because her life is a curse and the very existence of high heels is a prison, the delicate silver heel of the shoe that Evie spent hours sourcing for her snaps off. 

Great. Perfect. This is just how she wanted the night to go. 

Mal pounds on the door with her fist instead. "Open up! I brought misery and disdain for the institution of love!" 

A thump. "And chocolate?" 

"No, I didn't steal any chocolate at all from my date with the king of Auradon," Mal says, as sarcastically as she can manage with one shoe on and the other broken to pieces in her hands. "Just let me in already." 

The door pops open. "You're late." Carlos informs her. "Evie already went back to your room." 

Wonderful. 

"I don't care," Mal informs him right back, and shoves her purse, which is tiny and lilac and stuffed to the brim with all the chocolate she could fit, into his hands. "I need this princess shit off my body yesterday. I am not cut out for valentine's day, that's what I've learned, and also Ben's going to dump me and I don't care."

"Woah. Uh. Maybe you should care--" 

Mal spins around to glare at him, and Carlos immediately throws his hands up. "I MEAN, your judgement is impeccable and we all hate Ben now!" 

Ugh. 

"I don't hate him," Mal snaps, yanking her earrings out and throwing them sort of in the direction of somebody's dresser. There's still enough empty space on the top for her to recognize it as a dresser, so signs point to it belonging to Carlos. "I hate love. And valentine's day. And dating."

"You said you hated froot loops yesterday." Carlos points out. "Because I took the last of them. So like, I'm gonna take this with a spoonful of salt here. Did your date not go well?" 

Mal rips the pins out of her hair with so much force that one of them flies into the mirror. It doesn’t shatter, which is a fucking shame. She would have liked to make an awful mess. "I hate love, and I'm going to die alone surrounded by the bones of my enemies. No, it did not "go well,”” She stops ripping out pins long enough to add air quotes, which are essential to the dramatic effect of it all. "He asked if I love him back, and I told him, again, that I don't know how to love people, and he made this horrible face and was so kind about the whole thing, and just-- ugh!" 

Carlos is hovering. "I’m…sorry?" 

"I'm sorry we ever came here." Mal spits, yanking her other shoe off and throwing it somewhere in the direction of Jay's shoe pile. "I don't-- I can't be a princess. I hate that I just-- I don't know how to do anything, and I hate when people look at me like I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, and there were all these cameras, and--augh!" 

"Jay's in the shower," Carlos offers. "If you want to bother him about it." 

"I want to hit something," Mal admits. It's not a perfect solution, but she's already feeling a little bit less like her skin is on too tight now that she's got her hair loose and wild around her shoulders and her earrings and stupid, uncomfortable, impractical shoes off. "I think-- d'you want to spar with us?" 

"Can't. Homework." Carlos gestures to the textbooks he's got spread out on the neater one of the boys’ beds. "I've got a test tomorrow and if I fail I'll have to retake the class." 

Mal leans over so she can see the textbooks. It looks like history, maybe. Something with a lot of dense text and no visible math problems. "I can't imagine you failing any test, furball." she says, meaning it. How well they thrived on the isle of the lost isn't a perfect gauge for how well they're doing in Auradon, but school is school no matter where they are, and Mal can't remember her little nerd ever failing a test.

 Carlos goes even tenser at her attempt at reassurance. "First time for everything." 

"Still, you failing?" Mal scoffs. "We're in Auradon, not Wonderland. Not everything is upside down and inside out and topsy-turvy. Or whatever Allie’s sayings are.. You'll be fine." 

"I'll be better if I study. Sorry. No sparring for me tonight." 

Ugh. Mal rips another pin out of her hair and throws it towards the mirror with the others. "Suit yourself. I'm going to go bother Jay into letting me beat the shit out of him."

Carlos flashes her a little half smile. "Have fun."

“Oh, I will,” Mal assures him, and spins around to go invade the sanctity of the boy’s showers. 

The short, barefoot walk down the hallway to the boy's bathrooms gives Mal critical time to think about her plan of attack. She's wicked and awful, naturally, but she's also not especially interested in getting shouted at by a teacher for being out of bed and in the boy's showers tonight. She's had enough of being shouted at by adults who think they know better than her. She's not some Auradon girl to be controlled, so she's simply not going to get caught. 

Which means she's going back to the boys room. 

At least she'll remember to grab some different shoes this time. 

"Fuck off, Mal," Carlos calls through the door when she knocks a second time. "You can't steal my shoes." 

"I can steal whatever I want, actually," Mal corrects him, opening the door and barging in, as is her right as their fearless leader. She is Mal of the Isle, and she's not a prize to be won or a princess to be wooed. She's going to steal whatever shoes she likes. "Jay's shoes don't fit me right." 

Carlos throws a pen at her. "Neither do mine, you're just delusional about the size of your own feet. At least take my sneakers if you're going sparring. I hate when we have to dig out the poison kit after hours." 

Mal sticks her tongue out at him. Her shoes are all perfect, and she's also perfectly aware of the size of her feet, which are currently half a shoe size smaller than the one Carlos wears.  As such, their shared approximate size gives her the right to steal his shoes whenever the princess ones she's been dressed in are too much for her to manage, physically or mentally. . "I'm taking the ones with spikes." 

"Are not." 

"Are so," Mal says, diving under the bed to where he keeps all four pairs of his shoes lined up. "I'm going to add more spikes while you're not looking. Poison-tipped ones. Razor-sharp." 

"Use porcupine quills, they're barbed." Carlos says helpfully, making absolutely no motion to get up and defend his shoes.

Mal shoves aside the fallen textbook, grabs the hoodie shoved under the bed for later, and ah. There’s her prize.  Boots (with spikes), dress shoes, cleats (more spikes), and there at the end, sneakers. 

"Fishhooks," Mal suggests. "The giant ones that rip holes when they come out. And I'll dip them in bleach powder so it burns the whole time they're inside." 

Carlos shudders. "Gross." 

"You're gross," Mal rips her dress over her head, and does not wince at the popping noise the shoulder seam makes. Evie can fix it again later, or they can burn it. Whichever. "I'm taking your clothes too."

"Wash the bloodstains out before you put them back." 

Shirt. Pants. Hoodie. Sneakers. 

Ill-gotten disguise on, Mal flashes him a thumbs up on her way back out the door. 

“Hey,” Mal calls out, keeping her voice intentionally low. She’s got the hood of Carlos’s stolen hoodie pulled up over her hair, and she’s relying on the sight of a familiar size-shape-color-scheme to deter anyone from looking too closely at her. Not that there’s many students around the boy’s bathroom at 9pm on Valentine’s night, but still. She’s not exactly looking to get caught. “Jaybird?” 

There’s no noise in the bathroom except for the irregular drip of a shower head that hasn’t been turned off quite hard enough. All the money in the world, and Auradon Prep still doesn’t have showers that actually work how they’re supposed to. 

It’s ridiculous. If Mal were in charge of the school budget she’d be putting all the money into showers. A hot shower and a  fireplace in every dorm, so that none of the students have to feel cold if they don’t want. That’s the budget priorities Mal would have. Warmth, and then food. The dining hall could stand to leave leftovers out longer after meals. 

…princesses don’t think about food. She’s been around Evie long enough to know that one. Princesses are tiny and perfect without even trying. Princesses eat salad and fruit and don’t order fries with anything. Princesses are the sort of people the king is supposed to be dating, and Mal is never, ever going to become that sort of person. 

“Mal?” 

Mal does not jump. She just— startles. Just a little. “Hey.”

There’s a smile playing at the corner of Jay’s mouth. “Hey yourself. I thought you’d be out with Ben still.” 

“You know price charming,” Mal waves a hand. “Had to have me home by midnight or else he was afraid I’d turn into a pumpkin.” 

“It’s nine thirty.” 

“Localized curse. The younger you are, the earlier it thinks you should be home. We picked nine, just to be safe.” 

“You can just say you had a bad date, killer,” Jay says. “I’ll be your alibi. You need a shovel?” 

Mal snorts. “It didn’t go that badly, give me some credit. I just freaked out when he started talking about love. While we were on a date to talk about love.” 

Fuck. 

A lot more of the evening makes sense when she frames it that way. None of the bullshit they’ve found online talks about dating the king of the entire country, but there’s a lot of website with mind-numbing names like psychology today and buzzbees news that make it very clear how important Auradon brats think nonverbal communication is. 

She went on a date. On Valentine’s Day. 

With Ben. 

“…Killer?” 

Focus. 

“Fuck off.” Mal snaps reflexively. “I’m fine. Just. Plotting.” 

Jay dodges around her for a pile of fabric, which reveals itself to be his Auradon-blue team hoodie. “You wanna plot somewhere a little better?” 

“What I want is to go home, but I’m not going to get that,” Mal says thoughtfully. “I was going to ask you to spar with me, but if you’ve got any better ideas I’m open to hearing them.” 

“Breaking and entering.” Jay says immediately. “We should blow this place. There’s that all-ages club in town—”

“If I have to touch another human being I’m going to scream.” 

Jay touches her arm deliberately, a sustained pressure that doesn’t even read as touch, just comfort. Mal drinks it in like he’s pouring the comfort directly onto all the jagged, awful pieces of her soul. “I’m not a human being?” 

“Shut up. You’re mine, it’s different.” 

“You’re mine, then.” 

There’s a piece of her heart that fits perfectly again the broken edges of his. Mal couldn’t let go of Jay if she tried, not for anything in the world. Not for her mother breathing fire at them, not for Fairy Godmother insisting that it’ll be good for them to make other friends, and not for a stupid holiday that says she’s only supposed to be tied to one person, and not even the one holding on to her right now. 

“Sure.” Mal agrees, because she can’t put words to the enormity of feelings she’s experiencing. Villains don’t have feelings, but she’s reformed now, and it’s harder to describe the feelings with words than it is to have them. “We can sneak out, see what trouble we can find.” 

“You’re all the trouble I need, killer.” Jay says, too honest. “I’ll take you out of here whenever you need. Wherever you want.” 

“Sap.” 

“Princess.” 

“Do I look like a princess to you?” Mal leans back to gesture at herself. The sweatshirt she stole isn’t Auradon-blue like Jay’s. It’s an old one, ratty in the way that all their old isle stuff is, and nearly transparent at the elbows. The seams are held together with Evie’s neat machine stitching, but the thread is three different shades of red and grey all mashed together, and there’s a hole in the edge of the hood that’s exposing the soft inside of it. Her sneakers are a size too big, and laced tight to compensate. Her hair is still a mess from the violent undoing that she’d subjected it to, and she can’t be bothered to try and tame it, not when her chest is bursting with feelings that don’t have any place to go except for out of her body, in tears or screams or whatever violence she’s able to inflict that will drive the awful right feeling out. 

“The prettiest princess in all the land,” Jay says, and jumps back before the words are even out of his mouth, out of the range of Mal’s swipe. “C’mon, killer. You’re the fiercest baby dragon I know. Come out with me. We can find trouble somewhere better than this.” 

"You're trouble already," Mal grumbles, but there's no bite to the words. She wants, wholly and completely, to be somewhere else. "The gates are locked for the night, you know." 

"No problem. Besides, you can just say you're on an important errand for the king and get through all the school security." 

"I could," Mal agrees. It's not like she's afraid of a little misplaced power when she can wield it. "But it's more fun to sneak out." 

Jay's grin is a bright flash in the darkness. "Hey, I've got a stupid idea." 

Mal grunts. "Shoot." 

"I could toss you over the fence." 

"The twenty foot fence." 

Jay shrugs. "It's more like twelve feet. At least according to the build specs." 

"Which you came across..." 

"Totally legally. They're in the library, if you know where to look for 'em." 

"You're impossible," Mal sighs. "Okay, once you toss me how are we getting you over?" 

"I'll jump." 

Over the twelve foot fence. "Sure, and when you break your leg falling back down?" 

"You'll magic me back together again. Humpty-dumpty this shit." 

"I don't think you actually know that rhyme."

"I know your rhymes," Jay shoots back. "You've got magic for levitation in the spellbook, yeah?" 

"I don't have the spellbook with me, wise guy." Mal points out. "I'm not even wearing my own shoes right now, what makes you think I memorized magic that'll get us over the fence?" 

Jay's eyes are too bright. She's going to have to use a spell just to hide him, and the magic will burn her out, and they'll get stuck on the wrong side of the fence, and-- that's what she would think, if she were Jane, or someone will less awesome magic powers. She's Mal of the Isle, and she's got this shit under control. 

"Dragon magic," Jay says cheerfully, like it's not late and they're not doing something totally against all of the rules they're supposed to be learning by sneaking out to the city. "I trust you, killer." 

"I could kill you," Mal grumbles, but she raises her hands and lets the magic gather there, blue-green sparks catching on her fingertips as she pulls the spell out from her mind. "Make this boy as light as air, hop the fence without a care." 

The magic falls over Jay in a net of shimmering sparks. They absorb in after a second, but the look suits him. Mal spares a thought for her sketchbook, which is tucked away in her locker with the rest of the books she hasn't had the time to touch in weeks, and the drawing her fingers are itching to make. "You can hop it now. You'll be light enough to jump over the fence with a regular leap." 

"Sweet!" Jay turns and drops to a knee. "Hop on." 

"Piggyback? Seriously?" 

"No better way to hop it together. Unless you'd rather I throw you over."

It's dangerous, and not just physically. Mal's been doing a pretty fucking good job at squashing down the feelings she's not supposed to have for her best friends, but this... 

She's emotionally illiterate, but Jay's offer to take her out tonight is like a picture book. Or one of those furniture instructions that doesn't even have language, just pictures to follow. 

He cares about you, Mal's traitorous brain whispers. More than your boyfriend does. 

Ugh. 

"Don't do anything stupid," Mal says, even as she's the one climbing on. "The spell should be good for a few leaps, but--" 

"Can't hear you, too busy blowing this place!" Jay grunts, pushing them both upright. "Let's fuckin' go--" 

"Don't--" 

"Hup!" 

Well. At least they're on the other side of the fence now, even if they crashed directly into the school holly bush on the landing. 

"Oww," Jay groans. "Might need a little more practice on that spell. I think there's something wrong with your magic assist on the landing." 

Mal yanks a leaf out of her arm. "There is no magic assist, dumbass. I tried to tell you, but somebody decided to go full steam ahead without listening to my warning. We're over now, and that's what matters." 

Jay mumbles something unintelligible. She can only assume it's rude, given the circumstances. Ugh, holly leaves are not the hot new accessory of the season, not even when they're doing a levitation act and sticking with a single thorn into her nose.

 "Speak up or shut up, jaybird." 

"I said--" It's impossible to tell in the darkness, but it looks like he might be blushing. The school grounds are supposed to have automatic lights, but a little wire cutting took care of that for them, and they're sneaking out under cover of darkness tonight. Mal's good at knowing her crew, but she can't be sure. "I, uh, you're important. To me." 

"Don't get mushy on me." 

"I'd never. Just. We're sneaking out together, and I wanted you to know, I'd never commit crimes and misdemeanors with anyone else." 

"Liar." 

Jay flashes her a smile, but he's doing the thing where he's got a hand tangled up in his hair, and it makes him look heart-wrenchingly sincere. "Yeah, but not to you." 

Oh, gods. "Don't go having feelings on me," Mal says, swallowing down the wobble that wants to creep into her voice. "I can't handle it. Not tonight, please." 

Just like that, Jay's posture melts into something different. Not quite his usual confidence, but something closer to normal. "Sure. No feelings. I can do that." 

"I don't--" Mal scrubs a hand over her eyes. "I didn't mean that you can't have feelings, just. I can't be the one to handle them tonight. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow, just-- can we just go be somewhere else tonight? I can't handle all this lovey stuff." 

Jay's shoulders melt even further. Mal can't look him in the eye, she can't, she won't-- 

He's smiling. His hand is so, so warm in hers. "Killer." 

"I'm sorry." 

He shrugs. "Whatever. You're allowed to have a bad night. I'll take you out, we can forget this ever happened tomorrow. Easy." 

"You should have someone better," Mal cries, and the horrible realization that she's crying sets in. "I don't want feelings for you!" 

"shit," Jay whispers, so quietly that Mal is sure she wasn't supposed to hear it at all. "Dragon, we don't have to do feelings like the Auradon brats. You can just be mine, and I can be yours, and we don't have to do any of the mushy shit that's freaking you out. We can just run away." 

"Together." 

"Yeah. Unless you spelled somebody else over the fence while I was distracted." 

Mal wipes the sleeve of her stolen hoodie across her nose. "Ugh, no. I don't use magic for just anybody." 

"See, there you go. I'm honored to be worthy of your magic, your royal evil-ness." 

“Fuck off,” Mal groans, and then before she can lose her nerve she steps close enough to cup his face in her hands. There’s no magic this time, but Jay’s skin is hot and soft under her palms, and it feels like there should be magic between them. “I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, so I won’t ever put you through that. I’m selfish, and I’m flaky, and I can’t say that I love you, and I can’t ever promise that I’ll be able to say it.” 

Jay’s face is a thundercloud. “Did Ben say you needed to say it back?” 

“No, but— Ben’s not here right now. That’s the point. He’s not the person I run to when everything in the world is too much for me to handle. Ben’s sweet and all, but he’s not who I want to be with when I’m upset. Can you imagine what he’d say if I suggested running away from the grounds?” 

“What ho good chap, let me summon a car to escort you from the venerable grounds of our fine institution,” Jay picks up her thread, mocking. “And yeah, I guess when you put it that way, it’s pretty silly to think about Ben taking care of you.” 

Mal sucks in a breath. “Exactly. He’s sweet, but I don’t know how to deal with sweet, and it feels like the pressure of it is killing me. You know how to push back when I’m being a monster, and I don’t know how to fit that into one of the relationship boxes I’m supposed to use here.” 

Jay tips his head into her hands. “We could make our own box.” 

“We could.” 

“I wouldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend.” 

Mal leans in. “I know,” she tells the space between Jay’s parted lips. “I know.” 

[puppetwoman17]

I’ve been wanting to talk about this but I thought it would sound weird and kinda Mary Sue like! Glad to hear that I’m not the only one.

I’m very adamant on Cap being a pillar in not only the magic community(cause of his Champion role obviously) but the hero community as well. He’s well-known for his heroics and impossible stories about battling sentient worms and being diplomatic with alien dinosaurs.

He’s also loved for the advice he gives. All Billy wants to do is bring smiles to these peoples’ days. He dishes out advice like it’s candy and always sees the good in people. He’s great at looking at situations through multiple viewpoints and understanding everyone’s thought processes. This in particular helps with the Superman and Superboy problem. He tells both of them individually that both of their hardships are valid. Clark is allowed to feel violated because his DNA was stolen and mutated in a way that was against his consent. Connor never asked to be created, always wanting Superman’s love but never receiving it.

They reconcile, and Billy doesn’t think much of it, because it’s what anyone would do, right? No biggie. He even does something similar with Red Arrow, convincing him that he’s not just a clone. He’s his own person. He built his own life. He has his own achievements. He shouldn’t feel bad for any of this because none of it was in his control. And Roy is so damn grateful because it feels like a weight has been taken off his shoulders.

Marvel just shrugs. No biggie.

He talks Leaguers through both personal and professional problems and guides them onto a simple, honest path because adults make everything so damn complicated so why can’t you just sit THE FUCK DOWN—

Ahem.

So he helps with that too. No biggie, right? Just another good deed.

He expands his one-way business to other teams too, like the JSA, the YJ team, the Teen Titans, etc. Spends time with each of them, helps them solve their own problems whether they’re big or small.

No biggie, right?

Fucking. Wrong.

The world of heroes absolutely adores him! The other hero teams look to him like he’s the cool uncle. Despite no one knowing jackshit about his personal life, they trust him wholeheartedly. They know he’s got their back.

That’s actually what hurts, tho. Whenever anyone asks him about his life outside the cape, he gets tongue-tied. Panicked. Silent. Doesn’t say a word until a new topic is brought up and then changes wheels like it’s nothing. It hurts, knowing he doesn’t trust them. They know it’s stupid, he never had obligations to tell them anything about the real him, but it stings. Where does he go when he isn’t Cap? Does he have family? A lover? Hobbies? Pets? Why is he like a brick wall with them? Did they do something wrong?

Things get especially annoying when characters like Booster Gold(from the future) and Doctor Fate(Lord of Order, basically on the same pedestal as the Champion) know his identity and don’t even bother to hide that fact. Leaguers will frequently catch Booster making knowing jabs at the Captain, winking and saying strange things that get the Captain riled up and shaking his head profusely. Nabu is no help either, with Leaguers catching him and Marvel quietly conversing. When someone, say, Barry, shows up, Marvel stops talking.

It fucking hurts. A lot. And Billy doesn’t even notice the looks of jealousy cast at his future teammate and fellow Lord by his coworkers. The YJ team is not taking that shit because that is their den dad. Diana doesn’t appreciate that these strangers know more about her brother than she does. Flash is all confused and slightly annoyed because when are they gonna play another prank on Hal? Is he just gonna keep talking to those weirdos all day? And the next?

Billy’s honestly just happy to be here. He never thought he’d get past the age of ten, so doing all of this, helping these heroes while learning more about himself, is just great. He’s speedrunning his way through every moody, self-righteous, hurt, traumatized hero with no sweat on his back.

So yeah, he is beloved and he doesn’t even know it. You betcha that when Cap’s identity is revealed, everyone goes full mama bear/papa bear/protective older brother or sister on him. No way is he leaving without supervision.

Nabu and Booster are rolling their eyes cause hello? That’s the Champion of Magic. If anything, he’s the one they should be worried about.

Yeah, they are politely asked to leave after that. Anyhow Billy, wanna go get some hot chocolate 😘😍

Excuse the word vomit.

[strniohoeee]

Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 4(Final Chapter)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Waking up dazed and confused, Y/N is taken by surprise when certain events seem to take place. Unsure of how to feel Y/N battles with the decisions of staying or leaving for good

Warnings⚠️: SADDDDD NGL😭, but like not really but also IDK??? I wasn’t sure how to end this installment, but I know I didn’t want to make it some fairytale type shit LMAOOO

Songs for imagine: Blue Moon- Elvis Presley, Bang Bang(My Baby Shot Me Down)- Nancy Sinatra

Tags: @lacysturniolo @gamermattsgf @nicksmainbitch @s7urnfilms @sturnssmuts @vickyzloserz @mayhem-72 @sturn3g1rl @mattsturniolowifey

Blue Moon

You knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

If my mother could see the position I was currently in she’d be so ashamed….disappointed even. She’s always taught me stranger danger and leave it to her daughter to sleep with the stranger and the danger….

I can’t remember much, but I can remember the emptiness….the cold darkness of my mind. My physical body slumps somewhere while my conscious fights to wake me up.

Who knows what’s going on in the real world right now. I could be tied to a pole and slow roasting like a pig, or maybe even locked in someone’s dungeon. Or what if this is all some crazy bad dream and I’m actually back home in my comfortable bed….

My thoughts were slowly coming to a halt as my eyes began to open slowly. Squinting at the sensitivity they were facing I groaned and cleared my throat. The throbbing in my head and the burning of my nose leads me to believe Matt used an awful lot of chloroform to knock me out. He’s lucky he didn’t kill because I’d haunt his ass.

Opening my eyes fully I realized I was tied to a chair in a basement? Oh actually my basement? Looking around I realized I was in the same place I was when Matt caught me.

I began to move against the ropes, pulling and yanking as I groaned in anger.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” I heard from behind me, causing me to stop and jump

“Who’s there” I asked trying to look over my shoulders

“Why’d you have to be so nosy? Making everything so complicated” I heard him say

“You fucking psycho….Matt let me fucking go” I said pulling harder against the ropes

“You see I just can’t do that” he replied to me walking from behind me

“You fucking weirdo….oh god….oh my god I had sex with a fucking psycho… please just kill me that would be less embarrassing” I say shaking my head and tapping my feet on the ground

Coming from behind me Matt stands in front of me. Except he doesn’t look angry…. He looked concerned and scared. Which made me a bit scared and anxious

“What are you doing?” I yelled at him yanking myself around

“sit still” he said in a firm whisper

“Fuck off” I said in annoyance to him

Grabbing my face to have me look at him I attempted to yank away.

“GET OFF OF ME” I yelled at him trying to bite him

“STOP IT AND LOOK AT ME” he says with wide eyes

Letting go of me he steps back. Looking over his shoulder he turns back to me. Placing his pointer finger over his mouth he motions for me to stay quiet and then with the same finger points behind himself and then points to his ear.

“Listen here darling you’re going to do as I say” he says sternly and loudly

Digging in his back pocket he takes out a piece of paper, unraveling it he faces it to me so I can read.

They’ve been on you this whole time and they used me to get to you. At first I was going to do it, but I like you too much. They’ve been in your house multiple times and have found all the information you have on this town. I’m so sorry for who I am and what my family has done; but I don’t want to hurt you. They are having me watch you while they put all your stuff in your car. They’re planning to kill you and make it seem like it was an accident. However I won’t let that happen. I’m going to get you out of here and I have a plan! But they don’t fully trust me and are listening to me and watching my every move. So please just do as I say. I’m sorry.

After reading the note a tear slipped down my face and I looked up at Matt. His eyes softened and his lip trembled, swallowing thickly he nodded his head. Folding the paper back up he put it in his back pocket.

“You will listen to me and me only! Make any stupid moves and I will kill you myself” he says loudly with a sincere look

“Go to hell” I spat at him

Listening above he heard the two men walk away from the basement door. Ushering over to me quickly he got down and began to whisper

“Okay so here’s the plan. There is only one way out and only one chance to get this right so please do as I say. They’re loading up your car and they’re planning on having me drive you to a secluded area a little outside of this town. They want me to set your car on fire” he says shaking his head and looking down

“What?” I say shocked and beginning to panic

“My getaway car was planted in the area and they will be checking tonight to see that your car is completely burnt. However it won’t be there because you’ll be on your way back to Vegas. You’ll be out of their hair which will give you time to leave Vegas” he says grabbing my hand

“But what about you Matt? They’ll kill you….” I say as my voice shakes

“Exactly” he says nodding his head

“No….no you can’t do that! Come with me” I say to him looking at him in the eyes

“I can’t…they’ll catch up before we leave and we’ll both be dead instantly. Suzie and I tried it when we were 14. Thought we could leave and be young lovers together. They shot her dead in front of me… told me I’d be next if I ever stepped out of line again. You remind me so much of her I can’t see that happen again” he replied wiping tears from his eyes

“Matthew no…. I can’t leave you to die” I say sobbing

“Maybe it’s been my destiny all along” he says to me

“Maybe you can escape right before they come looking for my car. You’d get a good head start on them! Meet me in Vegas. We can run away together” I say nodding my head and licking my tear stained lips

He chuckled lightly and shook his head, opting not to answer as he stood up.

“I need you to walk outside with me when it’s time. Pretend to mouth me off, kick, scream holler! I’ll stuff you in the car and we’ll be on our way” He says to me

“Okay yeah yeah” I respond nodding my head

“But for now we wait” he states, backing up and leaning against the pole.

About thirty minutes passed before we heard anything. Barely mumbling a few words to each other. My throat had run dry from the anxiety. The fact that I could die if one thing goes wrong but mainly the fact that the last moments I’ll be sharing with Matt is him helping me escape my death that will then become his death….. my heart couldn’t take letting him die

He was destined for more. The way his eyes would light up anytime he asked me about what Vegas is like or what any other place I’ve ever visited was like. What stuck with me the most was the way his face would change when he’d realized the life he was living and what he’d have to go back to. The twinkle always disappearing. It made my heart heavy.

I wouldn’t let him die. It’s not happening and I don’t care what I have to do to prevent it. He’s had such a painful life and he’s going to honor it by dying….

My thoughts were interrupted by Matt, my eyes slowly shifting from the basement window over to his face.

“They called us up, I’m going to grab you by the back of your head and I need to just start lashing out immediately, got it?” He asked me

“Got it” I said to him

Quickly helping me out of the rope that held me to the chair he grabbed the back of my head as my arms were tied behind my back.

Gripping my hair harder I knew it was time to give it my all. Taking a shaky breath I began to yell

“LET GO OF ME, YOU AND THIS TOWN A BUNCH OF CRAZIES” I yelled as I thrashed against his grip

“Quit it” he yelled back as he pulled me up the stairs with him

“You think you can get rid of me huh? MY WHOLE FAMILY WILL COME HERE LOOKING FOR YOU” I said firmly

“LET GO LET GOOO” I kept yelling as I pulled against him, tears streaming down my face

He walked us towards the front door and that’s where Beaufort stopped us.

“Such a fiery little lady! I knew from the moment you called you’d be a problem. But one thing about me is I make my problems go away” he says sucking his tobacco and grinning at me

“You won’t get away with this you sick son of a bitch” I spat at him

“Watch me” he said smiling and opening the front door for me

“NOOO STOP NO PLEASEEE” I yelled as I kicked and thrashed against Matt. My legs swinging as I tried to “escape” his grip

“Should’ve stood in your home town. So sad you’ll be having a little accident” Beaufort says to me as he steps onto my porch

“I’ll kill you all just you watch” I yelled as Matt shoved me into the back seats as I continued to kick and hit things

Beaufort smiled an evil smile as he waved goodbye. Matt hopped in the front seat as we began to back out of my gravel driveway.

Driving down the road Matt looked in his rear view mirror before looking at me

“Okay we’re in the clear” he says to me

Sitting up I looked at him opening my mouth to talk but stopping once I saw him shaking his head no at me.

“You can’t get me to change my mind” he says

“Matt this is not okay. I basically just signed your death wish” I said to him

“And I told you maybe it’s what’s best for me” he replied shrugging his shoulder

“Okay and maybe it isn’t! Maybe it isn’t” I said sternly to him as I began to lose my patience

“Matt we’ve had such an amazing connection this past month, a connection I’ve never had with anyone else before and you can’t just leave me” I said pleading with him

“Don’t you get it? I can’t have them coming after you. I care for you lot sweetheart and if I had to live with another love of mine being hurt I couldn’t live with myself.” He replied gripping the steering wheel harder

I huffedd out a breath of annoyance and sat back in the seat, letting a few tears fall from my face. This is pure insanity! I couldn’t live with myself if Matt got hurt or even killed. I felt confused, one hand I’d be safe but on the other hand Matt would potentially be….. dead.

I hadn’t even realized how long I was in thought until the car came to a halt and I heard Matt put the car in park.

Hopping out of the car I followed suit

“Take the car and run like hell outta here darlin” he said handing the keys to me

“Please come with” I begged as I chewed my bottom lip

“I can’t little lady” he responded shaking his head and wiping his nose

“Ditch your getaway car and come with me burn your car and let’s go, we can run like hell out of here together” I said gripping onto his arms

“I can’t, I have to go back” he says looking me in my eyes

“Can you at least attempt to leave town? Maybe tonight before they come looking for my car, leave before them” I said basically begging

“I can try, but I can’t make any promises darlin” he states swallowing thickly

“Please Matt…. For me” I say wiping my eyes

“The best I can do is try, this is for you. Whether I make it out alive or not just know I want you to be safe and I will always be with you” he says to me pulling me in for a hug

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done” he says to me as he pulls away

“I’m going to miss you” I say to him

“I’m still here” he says smiling at me

I shook my head and hugged him once again

“I better head on back” he says pulling away

Turning on his heels he walks over to his car as I follow behind. Hopping in his car he rolls down his window as I lean on it.

“Now darlin you have to promise me that you’ll listen and you’ll get out of here. Don’t try and save me” he says smiling as he bats tears from his eyes

“I promise” I responded in a whisper

“And you have to promise to never forget about me” I told him as I smiled

“I could never! I swear I’ll try and contact you if I can pretty girl” he says back as he nods his head

“Thank you Matt for getting me out of here” I say one last time

Looking into his eyes I lean over and plant my lips on his. The kiss was needy and sad. It was a goodbye kiss…. A goodbye that meant forever. There was no see you later with Matt….

We hugged and shared one last final kiss. Parting ways I got in my car and we both drove off. I was numb the whole way home. I mean how does one process all of this? My life felt so unreal?

There were many hours of crying, sitting in silence and contemplations of turning back around. I just felt so confused, I didn’t want to leave Matt and I also didn’t want to die…. I didn’t have many options

Arriving home was the most bittersweet moment. I couldn’t really tell anyone what I really went through. What that town and what those people are truly like

I spent many days in and out of therapy really trying to understand what happened to me and how to process it. What really ate at me was the fear of being found, the fear of dying and especially the fear of never seeing Matt again.

One year later

If I knew that that day I hugged and kissed Matt goodbye would be the last time I’d ever see him, I’d hold on tighter. When I finally realized Matt wasn’t coming back it hurt bad… I mean I’d hid away blaming myself for all of this.

Wondering well maybe I didn’t push hard enough because if I did he would’ve caved and came with me. Not knowing if he was dead or alive really ate at my soul. Many days went by where I wanted to call his landline, but that would be a one way ticket to my grave.

It was hard moving. After experiencing something so intense with someone and needing them by your side to never seeing them again will always sting the most.

I was angry because I felt he didn’t try hard enough. Because if he did then he’d be here right now. And then that was filled with sadness and worry. I wasn’t sure if he was okay and I had to live with the fact that I would never know.

It’s so crazy how you’ll be living your life one way and then it flips upside down so randomly.

As I finished typing my chapter on my computer I let out a sigh. Writing a book about what I went through and losing Matt was the only way I could seem to cope.

It was actually Professor Wayne who convinced me to write this. He was actually helping me a lot through all this and he truly saw how it changed me. But everytime he saw the excitement in my eyes once I finished a chapter he knew it was genuinely helping me mentally.

Pressing save I closed my laptop and looked out my window. The rain is pattering against the glass. Such a bittersweet feeling. A year ago today I was about to sleep with my weird neighbor and friend and now I’m here in my empty apartment staring out the glass and reminiscing.

It’s still an open wound that I’m working on daily to stitch close. No one prepares you for traumatic events, especially ones that chemically alter your brain. I watched the rain trickle down the warm glass as I blink slowly. Racking my brain for answers…. I mean hell I’m just looking for one simple answer

I just want to know is Matt truly dead, or is he just

Hidden in the shadows….

The End

Yallll I hope you enjoyed the finale cause I hated it🤭 this is why I don’t write series because I’m so shit at ending things. But anywho I hope you liked it and I can’t wait to write some more for yall 🥹🖤

-J💅🏽

[whinlatter]

sirius and ginny: a meta (part 1)

“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.’

are you a very brave, very reckless, very hot self-destructive rebel with a treacherous sibling and a flair for christmas decoration, harbouring complex feelings about your mother, close ties to crookshanks the cat and spend your days plagued by the memory of your worst mistakes and dark past? do you find yourself constantly being begged to stay in a state of protective confinement to save your life by a young man with a lightning scar, bad hair and crippling abandonment issues? if so, congratulations! you might be one of harry potter's chosen family members, sirius black and ginevra molly weasley! 

basically - i want to talk about sirius and ginny. these are two characters who don’t share a lot of scenes in canon but who, i think, have some clear (if overlooked) parallels: stubborn, fiercely protective of harry, self-sacrificing, admired, principled, haunted (in different ways) by traumatic pasts and betrayals, with complicated relationships with their families and entirely uncomplicated devoted relationships with someone else’s cat. their narrative arcs are successive, with ginny ascending in significance in the series during sirius’ period of decline and ultimate death. and ultimately, they’re also the two people who become, over the course of the canon series, family to a protagonist desperately seeking to build one. sirius and ginny are the two people harry in canon most worries about, wants to protect, and thinks of as someone who embodies the promise of family and home.

sirius and ginny aren’t mirror images of each other. ofc, ginny also has parallels with the only other family members harry claims in the series, lily and james (i mean, especially james - she’s literally a cocky funny flirtatious chaser with a years-long debilitating mega crush who can also catch a snitch like a champ. come on now). it’s also clear in canon that sirius means more to ginny as a hero/role model/ally against her mother than ginny ever means to sirius. nevertheless, the text puts in work to let the reader know we should think about these characters together as somehow aligned. from the beginning of ootp, there are clues and signals in the text that foreshadow ginny’s emergence as someone important to harry, and that subtly let the reader know that the baton of being harry’s ‘person’ is about to be passed from sirius to ginny, two kindred spirits, after sirius’ death. so that's what this meta is about! (consider this my 700th attempt to show that, as the popular fandom complaint/all of reddit still insist, ginny as a character, and especially the harry/ginny romance, did not ‘come out of nowhere’.)

the following meta is part one of two (and yet it's still too long! sorry about it). o in this part, i look at the period from the end of goblet of fire thru the start of half blood prince, exploring how the text sets up the sirius and ginny parallels as a way of foreshadowing ginny’s emergence as harry’s main love interest and place as a family substitute. the second part (tbc) will be what the memory of sirius does for harry’s view of his relationship with ginny, and the kind of positive - and negative - ways this shapes harry’s ideas about love and what family do for each other. i wrote this meta as a way of thinking through some characterisation choices for my current WIP, beasts. if you're following along with that fic, this meta can be seen as a companion piece especially to my thinking behind chapters ten and eleven, so hope proves helpful for some of my thinking behind the sirius and ginny friendship that appears in that project. it's also dedicated to @ashesandhackles, queen of metas, who has reminded me to post this meta precisely 9 million times because she is a long-suffering saint.

ok - sirius and ginny. let’s goooooo!

sirius and ginny before ootp

before OotP, ginny is absent from any plot connected to sirius. ginny doesn’t know the truth about sirius’ innocence, nor does she know that harry, her brother and her friend are in regular contact with sirius and that harry now as a surrogate father/big brother figure to confide in and seek comfort in.  in fact, in one of ginny’s few appearances in GoF, the narration is unusually insistent that the reader knows how little ginny knows about sirius:

“And have you heard from — ?” Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. Harry knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about Harry’s godfather as he was. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but themselves and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence. “I think they’ve stopped arguing,” said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. “Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?” 

the only other tiny crumb of sirius and ginny we get is the news that the owl sirius bought in PoA and gifted to ron as a replacement pet for scabbers has been embraced and named by ginny. sirius gifting a tiny little spitfire of an owl that annoys ron? it's giving foreshadowing, your honour.

the reader, though, knows who sirius is to harry by GoF. throughout this book, for the first time in the series, harry has a person he can claim as something like a family: someone to worry about, someone who cares about him,who can advise, guide and mentor him, as well as offer him support and consolation in difficult times (‘someone like a parent…’) although sirius has not been able to offer harry a stable alternative home to the dursleys due to his status as a wanted man, he’s still filling a role that previously had been vacant in the series: he’s harry’s person, the surrogate parent chosen for him by james and lily. he’s close by, either by the floo or eventually living (at great personal cost) as padfoot in hogsmeade, and he’s present emotionally for harry in ways that prove incredibly meaningful to his young godson. in times of great of distress, sirius is there for harry to meet emotional needs that ron and hermione (understandably, no shade to them) can’t always meet. the floo scene early on in GoF, during harry’s row with ron, is a particularly good example of this:

“Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously. “I’m —”  For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. …Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn’t entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn’t walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron’s jealousy . . . Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern… He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption’.

harry derives enormous comfort from sirius’ presence in his life during GoF. he writes to sirius, he repeatedly turns to him for advice, he worries for him more than he does any other person. sirius fulfils harry’s desire to be kept abreast of important information about voldemort and death eaters, doesn’t sugarcoat news for harry, and makes him feel important, cared for and understood. (harry even shows off to sirius telling him about how much of a slay the first task was. ugh). by the time of the third task, sirius is sending harry daily owls, a constant flow of reassurance and concern (‘He reminded Harry in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not Harry’s responsibility, nor was it within his power to influence it. If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, he wrote, my priority is to ensure your safety.’) when harry returns from the graveyard at the novel’s end, it’s sirius who races to his side to advocate for him and offer him both words of comfort and physical affection as he processes the traumatic series of events that constitute the climax of the book’s plot. (my personal favourite part is where harry says ‘wormtail cut me with a knife’ and the text says sirius made a ‘vehement exclamation’, which i can only assume is children’s book speak for ‘fucking hell’.) harry goes to bed: sirius stays with him, a literal guard dog as he recuperates. after the most traumatic events of the series to date, the reader is at least consoled that harry potter has a person now, someone he loves for him to worry about and to worry for him, who catches him on the other side of traumatic events and makes them that bit much more bearable.

sirius and ginny during ootp

with sirius' role in harry's life established in GoF, OotP begins with harry, cooped up and restless at privet drive, angry with ron, hermione, sirius, and dumbledore for abandoning him at privet drive and keeping him in the dark. harry arrives at grimmauld place to find an anxious ron and hermione, with whom harry is angry and frustrated for having left him out of their summer hangs and having neglected him, by his assessment, in surrey. it’s the most conflict we’ve seen in the trio in terms of harry vs ron and hermione, and sets up one of the important themes of the book, which is harry no longer being solely emotionally fulfilled by the people he is closest to, including his two surrogate parents best mates but also his godfather. when he encounters sirius for the first time after the order meeting, he finds him surly, bitter, and depressed, furious that he is confined to his childhood home, and (understandably) much less able or willing to offer harry much in the way of comfort, apology or cheering words (‘Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius’s voice sounded.’) in this sense, the book opens with harry disappointed and/or more distant from all the people on whom he most depends and is usually closest to, and that there therefore is already an absence of a certain kind of emotional support in harry’s life that the plot demands be filled.

fresh off the back of harry’s row with ron and hermione is ginny’s reintroduction to the reader. after years of being so shy in harry’s presence she was often nearly mute, the reader finds that ginny is not only now speaking, but that her presence turns out to be remarkably refreshing. from her opening scene where ginny enters harry’s bedroom at grimmauld place, the reader discovers the new ginny is confident, up to no good, in cahoots with her most troublemaking brothers trying to intercept the order meeting, enterprising in her mischief (and very happy to lie to her mother’s face about it). she’s thoroughly unfazed by harry’s great display of rage that has just startled and upset ron and hermione. (side note: in both ootp and hbp, ginny’s opening scene is her entering harry’s bedroom, which is the kind of foreshadowing i personally find delicious). everyone else is behaving pretty much as they have been up to this point, but it’s ginny who is showcasing behaviours new to the reader, a signal that she might be about to play a different role in the series than she has done up to this point.

cut to the dinner scene. sirius and ginny are in the room together for the first time. sirius is moody: though he’s still able to laugh, enjoying displays of mischief and humour (the twins and the knife), he’s more bitter than harry and the reader have seen him since PoA. it’s an important scene for lots of reasons (not least the sirius v molly beef), but it’s also one where sirius and ginny are repeatedly drawn into mental association in the reader’s mind. it’s also a great scene because the behaviour of crookshanks the cat literally serves to foreshadow the behaviour of harry james potter in ways that are frankly extremely fun.

so! the sirius and ginny hints start small. from the start of the scene, ginny is amused by mundungus the crook (a man, we will learn, so disdained by her mother):

“Some’n say m’ name?” Mundungus mumbled sleepily. “I ’gree with Sirius. . . .” He raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. Ginny giggled. “The meeting’s over, Dung,” said Sirius, as they all sat down around him at the table. “Harry’s arrived.” 

sirius and harry, sat at the end of the table, are both greeted by crookshanks, sirius’ old accomplice from PoA:

'​​Harry felt something brush against his knees and started, but it was only Crookshanks, Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around Harry’s legs, purring, then jumped onto Sirius’s lap and curled up. Sirius scratched him absentmindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to Harry…

when fred and george’s levitation goes awry, flinging a knife at sirius (now that’s how you foreshadow a death), crookshanks bolts: 

‘Harry and Sirius were both laughing… Crookshanks had given an angry hiss and shot off under the dresser, from whence his large yellow eyes glowed in the darkness…’

during the meal, ginny’s with hermione, having a laugh with tonks, a character harry has just met but whom he has already decided to both admire and like. after the meal, when harry’s cheered up a bit and had his crumble (the man loves dessert), crookshanks finally emerges from his hiding place, having been coaxed out from his sulk by - you guessed it - one g. m. weasley:

‘…Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling butterbeer corks for him to chase.’

a grouchy character, initially drawn to sirius, but prone to lashing out and locking himself away, only to be lured back out into comfort and safety by ginny weasley? wow………. radical

after dinner, the argument between sirius and molly kicks off. sirius is arguing hard for harry’s right to know, though he makes no attempt to advocate for any of the other weasleys or for hermione. ginny’s noticeably singled out in her reaction to this scene, the text highlighting that she is particularly struck by this conflict as if it is of particular personal resonance, including someone standing up to her famously overprotective mother for once:

‘Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius.’

of course, molly loses the argument: harry gets to stay for juicy order deets (‘Sirius was right, he was not a child.’) after the row, ginny is the only person forbidden from hearing information about the order’s activities. suddenly, the roles are switched: it’s ginny who’s now furious and bitter to be kept out of the action:

‘“Fine!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Fine! Ginny — BED!”  Ginny did not go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall Mrs. Black’s earsplitting shrieks were added to the din. Lupin hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking his seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke. “Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?”’ 

it’s not just the parallels of confinement between harry, sirius and ginny that are so revealing, it’s also the dual maternal conflicts. ginny loud raging at her own mother sets off the howling relic of sirius’, serving to underline two characters who continue to grapple with maternal relationships that are complex and full of conflict, though by no means solely negative (sirius i see you sleeping in your mother’s bedroom babe. don’t think i think your relationship with walburga is just one of straight hate ok). when ginny later gets knocked down the stairs by fred and george, there’s more direct mrs weasley/walburga parallels, with the two of them literally shouting over each other during the ordeal lol. as such, the readers see that the conflicts being set up for sirius’ character in this book - frustration at confinement, conflict with a mother figure, drawn to more reckless and arguably irresponsible characters (mundungus, the twins) and courses of action - are also conflicts subtly playing out with the new ginny we’re meeting, too.

as the rest of the summer at grimmauld wears on, there are more examples of sirius and ginny foreshadowing. the scenes where the two characters interact serve to place ginny and sirius firmly in the same camp of people harry admires and has fun with, the troublemakers and the rebels. over the prefects issue, ginny not only is sat chatting with the troublemaking adults harry likes most, but actively draws sirius into conversation on the issue, likely knowing the answer will comfort harry, but also showing a curiosity and interest in sirius that suggests she admires him:

“I was never a prefect myself,” said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister. “My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.”  “Like what?” said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato. “Like the ability to behave myself,” said Tonks. Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.  “What about you, Sirius?” Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh…’

ginny’s choice to try and draw sirius into the conversation bears fruit: sirius confirms james was never a prefect, and harry’s sour mood is suddenly lifted. (‘All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.’) ginny is thus beginning to provide harry with subtle comfort and reassurance, especially as sirius, struggling with his own confinement,  is taking a less active role in trying to cheer harry up. what i also like is that we have evidence of how ginny views sirius - she’s curious about him and his past, she clearly thinks he and the other new rebellious adults are cool as shit, and she’s drawn increasingly away from her mother’s cautious overprotective approach towards these resistance fighters who prioritise the fight over safety. (it is noticeable to me that ginny does not become a prefect in HBP, suggesting sirius' example proved instructive).

we see more small parallels between sirius and ginny during the cleaning scenes. the battle against grimmauld place is an important symbol of one of the important themes of OotP as a book: a battle over past traumas and their persistent and unwieldy symptoms that are seemingly never-ending. while it’s harry’s experiences that, of course, take centre stage, sirius’, too, loom omnipresent throughout the text. it’s significant, then, that ginny’s own past gets brought up for the first time in three books here, albeit briefly: 

'They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry’s arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin; Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut…'

in this moment, we see sirius and ginny singled in the larger group as quick-thinking, shrewd characters, with a good instincts and common sense (if a bit of a tendency to get scrappy). their respective dark pasts are subtly alluded to. sirius whacks a spider trying to attack harry with a book that might as well be entitled my big book of family trauma. ginny, meanwhile, steps in when everybody present starts to be enchanted by a mysterious object luring them into danger by whacking it shut (gee i wonder why!) given this is the book that will see ginny mention the events of CoS for the first time in errrrr three years, it’s significant that the text is careful to draw ginny into this broader theme that unites sirius and harry, the constant reminders of traumatic pasts at every turn. we also see here the revelation that regulus black was a death eater. coming after news of percy weasley’s betrayal, sirius’ bitter dismissal of his younger brother deliberately mirrors ginny and the other weasleys’ attitude towards percy, this sense of pureblood families split over wizarding politics, often fatally. 

while harry fears his expulsion from hogwarts prior his hearing, he continues to fantasise about coming to live with sirius at grimmauld, and about being with a family member and finding an alternative home to hogwarts. sirius, as hermione astutely observes, tries to manage harry’s expectations and not to get his own hopes up: still, when harry is exonerated, sirius is visibly depressed, showing the beginnings of an emotional dependency on harry that harry feels great guilt over.when leaving grimmauld for the start of the school year, sirius, as padfoot, accompanies harry to king’s cross: unlike in GoF, though, he is spotted, and harry begins to worry much more actively about sirius’ vulnerability to capture, about his recklessness and about his judgement. concerned for sirius, and absent ron and hermione, who are in the prefects carriage, the person who stays with harry and offers him company is ginny. she sacrifices her own train journey (presumably with her own boyfriend) to find a carriage with harry and make sure he’s not lonely, bringing him to neville and luna and sorting him out after his embarassing cho run-in. it’s not a coincidence that once again we see ginny here taking care of harry crookshanks:

'“Where’s Crookshanks?” “Ginny’s got him,” said Harry. “There she is. . . .”  Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks. “Thanks,” said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. “Come on, let’s get a carriage together before they all fill up. . . '

once harry’s back at school, having left sirius behind to languish miserably in london, we see he's more isolated and alone than ever. he’s tormented by umbridge, endlessly (though often unfairly) frustrated with ron and hermione, ghosted by dumbledore, yet absent the more stable, reassuring sirius he came to know in GoF, unable to write candidly to him and faced with a much less well sirius in the opportunities they do have to speak face-to-face. as sirius’ mental health declines as he is shut up at grimmauld, his ability to support harry and comfort him starts to falter, and he becomes a much more uneven source of advice and support, particularly during his car crash floo appearance, where he’s much ruder than he has previously been (cutting off, ignoring their pleas for him to be more cautious, the infamous ‘the risk would have made it fun for james’ moment). this new sirius, clearly struggling, is much more happy to do up guilt trip to his godson than we have seen him to up this point (‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’ - you petty little shit, padfoot). all of this serves to increase harry’s anxiety about sirius’ wellbeing and reinforce harry’s sense of emotional isolation. even sirius’ encouragement on the DA is, as hermione points out, partly bound up in more selfish motivations (‘I think he’s really frustrated at how little he can do where he is… so I think he’s keen to kind of… egg us on.’)

ginny’s largely absent in this section of the novel. in the brief moments she does appear, it’s to inject humour (eg. her impressions at the DA meeting) and in little reminders that she now has a boyfriend, no longer harbours romantic feelings for harry, making sure the reader continues to hold her mentally apart from harry. harry, meanwhile, misguidedly tries to seek out a relationship with cho chang, who is showing clear signs of her own emotional distress and inability to meet harry’s emotional needs given her own grief. still, among this, there’s still room for some small subtle sirius/ginny parallels. once the DA plot picks up, we have another little sign that ginny weasley and sirius black think somewhat alike:

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?” 

“Trained in combat?” repeated Harry incredulously. “What does he think we’re doing here, forming some sort of wizard army? “That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing,” said Sirius, “or rather, that’s exactly what he’s afraid Dumbledore’s doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic.” 

with harry's isolation and need for more emotional support established in this first term, christmas at grimmauld offers more opportunity to subtly develop the sirius and ginny parallels, as well as to highlight ginny’s ability to fill the gaps left by sirius’ decline. after the attack on arthur weasley, the group arrive back at grimmauld:

‘Sirius was hurrying toward them all, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him. “What’s going on?” he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. “Phineas Nigellus said Arthur’s been badly injured —” 

could this be sirius literally lifting ginny up into plot significance? why yes it could

ofc the weasleys then argue with sirius about their right to go see their father. despite his own frustrations at being trapped at grimmauld, sirius proves the voice of reason and rational decision making against both ginny and the twins’ hotheadedness (ginny asks to borrow cloaks to go to the hospital: sirius: ‘Hang on, you can’t go tearing off to St. Mungo’s!’) crucially, though, when sirius points out that there are bigger things at stake - the work of the order and the resistance movement - it’s ginny who listens:

“Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won’t thank you for messing things up for the Order!” said Sirius angrily in his turn. “This is how it is — this is why you’re not in the Order — you don’t understand — there are things worth dying for!”  “Easy for you to say, stuck here!” bellowed Fred. “I don’t see you risking your neck!”  The little colour remaining in Sirius’s face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determined calm. “I know it’s hard, but we’ve all got to act as though we don’t know anything yet. We’ve got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?”  Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and shrug, and they sat down too. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats on either side of Ginny.  “That’s right,” said Sirius encouragingly, “come on, let’s all . . . let’s all have a drink while we’re waiting…’

there’s a lot going on here: ginny’s willingness to follow sirius’ orders, but also her willingness to accept an argument based on some idea of the greater good before any of her brothers. she and sirius are aligned here, and it’s her decision to accept sirius’ reasoning that proves the catalyst for her brothers to follow. we see here how ginny has come to see sirius: someone she looks up to and admires, an adult whose judgement she trusts and whose worldview she subscribes to. (as a character prone to hero worship - see her view of her big brother bill - i think this is noteworthy, and is behind a lot of my characterisation choices for ginny towards sirius in beasts). but we also see that ginny agrees with sirius' worldview. there are some things worth dying for, and self-sacrifice is part of that.

when harry goes to sirius for reassurance about witnessing arthur’s attack, he finds sirius unable to properly console him and convince him that he was not to blame for arthur’s attack. the reader gets the impression of sirius withholding information from harry (‘He could only see a sliver of Sirius’s face; the rest was in darkness’), and the scene ends with sirius clapping harry on the shoulder and leaving him ‘standing alone in the dark’. while sirius throws himself into christmas preparations, obviously delighted to have company, harry shrinks from the cheer and isolates himself. in the end, ofc, the only person that manages to pull harry out of his dark, brooding thoughts is ginny. the text is careful to note she’s sitting beside him on the tube back from st mungo’s, when he looks very unwell. then, in the ‘lucky you’ scene, she showcases some of the same skills harry first came to appreciate in sirius in GoF. she tells it to him straight: she’s sympathetic, but not overly gushing, and she reminds him of her own intensely frightening experience which she endured alone, something harry can relate to, even if the experience of possession is not.  it’s an important scene for lots of reasons, but it’s also, crucially, the intervention that causes harry’s mood to lift, and he gets to enjoy a christmas with his godfather, the thing he had most wanted in the run-up to christmas, and which becomes the only holiday period harry and sirius ever spend together: 

‘I’m not the weapon after all, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief, and he felt like joining in as they heard Sirius tramping past their door toward Buckbeak’s room, singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogriffs” at the top of his voice.’

of course, once christmas is over, sirius slips back into a depressed, gloomy state. harry wants a better goodbye than he gives him, merely giving him a quick one armed hug (there’s a real theme throughout harry and sirius’ relationship of very sparing physical contact on sirius’ part, which is obviously a hole in harry's life ginny will fill in - er - a big way). back at school, harry returns to umbridge’s increasingly draconian rule, maks a disastrous attempt at forging a relationship with cho, and continues to feel lonely, paranoid, and angry. unable to speak to sirius properly via letter or floo - and unwilling to open the present sirius has given him to communicate directly with him, the two-way mirror - harry is increasingly sullen, a mood that only worsens after seeing snape's worst memory.

the easter egg scene is obviously important for hinny for lots of different reasons. but here i just want to highlight how the scene serves to show ginny as both the conduit to sirius for harry, and someone whose behaviour echoes that of sirius in GoF when harry first began to open up to and seek comfort in him. harry is distressed by his now complicated feelings both towards the father he previously revered and towards sirius, who seemed to encourage james’ bullying behaviour. ginny hands harry a chocolate easter egg covered in snitches: chocolate, a canonical source of comfort against dark thoughts, and an egg that reminds him of the love of parent. the act makes him suddenly emotional, though he at first denies he’s upset. ginny presses carefully and sensitively, asking the right questions to get him to confess the source of his worry, waiting for harry to take his time to speak - all behaviours that echo sirius’ own effective listening techniques. ginny’s acquaintance with sirius, and knowledge of how significant he is to harry, is important here, too, and a subtle sign to the reader that he trusts ginny with knowledge about sirius after a long time of having her in the dark about his godfather.  the reader leaves the scene having seen ginny breakthrough to harry emotionally in a way for the second time in the novel, in a way no other character has done (‘he felt a bit more hopeful…’) 

of course, the course of action ginny has set in motion is itself risky and reckless (‘anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve’ is very marauders as a philosophy). the decision to go ahead with the plan the twins come up with is one harry sees as a decision on whether to be more like james and sirius - a risk taker - or to abandon the hero worship for the marauders he has lived with for so long. in the end, of course, it’s a win for the reckless troublemakers: he chooses to go ahead with the plan the twins have crafted and that ginny has set in motion, and to speak to sirius.

and yet. sirius is still alive - there is not need for ginny yet. for the remainder of the book, ginny has to beg to be included in the trio's plans and to be allowed to be a part of the plot to rescue sirius. she’s is often in conflict with harry, showing a lot of sirius’ bitterness at attempts at containment and to keep her out of the fighting. she grates against harry’s insistence that she is too young and inexperienced, and having to remind the trio that she, too, has come to care about sirius and wants to see him safe: 

“I’ve got a broom!” said Ginny.  “Yeah, but you’re not coming,” said Ron angrily.  “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. 

of course, it all ends in tragedy: sirius, desperate to go to harry’s aid and absolutely gunning for a fight after months of confinement, is killed, leaving harry alone. there a subtle clues that something has shifted in ginny’s relationship to harry and the trio in the scenes after sirius’ death, including ginny positioned as the mirror image to harry in the hospital: 

‘Harry was sitting on the end of Ron’s bed and they were both listening to Hermione read the front page of the Sunday Prophet. Ginny, whose ankle had     been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione’s bed…’

despite this, in the immediate aftermath of sirius’ death, harry is extremely alone. he is unable to work out what he needs (‘Whenever he was in company he wanted to get away, and whenever he was alone he wanted company.’) he tries to go to hagrid’s, but regrets it (‘He was starting to wish he was alone again’), leaving after hagrid reminds him of sirius’ core traits, an inability to stay out of the fight when he believes in the cause:

“But still, Harry . . . he was never one ter sit around at home an’ let other people do the fightin’. He couldn’ have lived with himself if he hadn’ gone ter help —” 

unlike at the end of GoF, harry is isolated by his grief and the revelation of the prophecy's contents by the end of this book. he goes alone to a secluded corner of the lakeshore, ‘sheltered from the gaze of passersby behind a tangle of shrubs’, and ‘[stares] out over the gleaming water’, and cries alone. there is no sirius or other person to catch him and console him in his grief. his person has died, and there’s a gap in his life again, just waiting to be filled: 

‘Wanting to impress Cho seemed to belong to a past that was no longer quite connected with him. So much of what he had wanted before Sirius’s death felt that way these days. . . . The week that had elapsed since he had last seen Sirius seemed to have lasted much, much longer: It stretched across two universes, the one with Sirius in it, and the one without.’

ginny and sirius parallels in HBP and DH

after sirius’ death, the parallels between sirius and ginny become more important as ginny moves into the centre frame as a character. at the start of HBP, harry arrives at the burrow and discusses his grief over sirius’ death with dumbledore in the burrow broom shed, acknowledging how profoundly the loss of a family member who cares singularly about him is affecting him. ('He felt stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best things about discovering his godfather . . . and now the post owls would never bring him that comfort again. . . .' beasts readers: there's a reason harry clings to letters!) of course, having reminded the reader of the gap in harry’s life that now needs to be filled, harry goes to sleep, the active reflection on his grief for sirius put to one side so the novel's plot can get underway. he'll go to bed mourning sirius and wake up in a sunlit bedroom. of course, ginny will walk into this bedroom too, only now things will be different: harry potter is back to the search for a loved one, for a family, and he's about to realise ginny is the one he wants to fill it. thus the start of the plot of ginny stepping into the role vacated by sirius beginneth.

so much of who ginny is in HBP is reminiscent of sirius. she frequently leaps into battle as harry’s protector (‘You’re taking orders from something someone wrote in a book?’, ‘Give it a rest, Hermione’), she’s scrappy (RIP zacharias smith), she’s funny and laughs easily in a way that less recalls sirius in the time harry knew him than sirius as harry sees him as a young man, in photographs or memories. she's the one who commits to the insane christmas decorations, determined to cheer everyone up over the festive period as sirius did the year before. she even enjoys the widespread admiration and lust of her peers, a trait that directly recalls sirius being eyed up by his peers in snape's memory. by the novel’s end, after dumbledore’s death, it will be ginny who goes to harry’s side after the climax of the plot and catch him in his grief just as sirius did in GoF, this time over dumbledore’s death: 

‘He did not want to leave Dumbledore’s side, he did not want to move anywhere. Hagrid’s hand on his shoulder was trembling. Then another voice said, “Harry, come on.’ A much smaller and warmer hand had enclosed his and was pulling him upward. He obeyed its pressure without really thinking about it.’

their breakup has sirius all over it. taking place at the lakeshore, the place where harry wept alone over sirius a year prior, harry draws on the circumstances of sirius’ demise as a reason he must break up with ginny (‘Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to.’) the breakup does little to shift what ginny has become in harry’s mind, though, and he spends all of DH thinking of her as he once thought of sirius: the person whose safety he most craves, the person he misses, someone he claims as his, and whom he associates with (now banished) hopes of a home and a family:

“It’s not a problem,” said Harry, sickened by the pain in his head. “It’s your family, ’course you’re worried. I’d feel the same way.” He thought of Ginny. “I do feel the same way.”

of course, echoes of sirius will also come into play during open war. it’s now ginny, not sirius, who is the one left behind for her own protection: in the run-up to the battle, harry finds himself once again faced with the prospect of confining his loved one for their safety, despite their desperation to fight and do the right thing. but these are thoughts for part 2…….

[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 5,672

The door shut firmly behind the Princess’ Private Secretary, leaving the four highest-ranking members of the Royal Family in the oversized room alone. An uneasy silence lingered past the echo’s reverberation, only adding to Rosalie’s anxiety. She shifted on the plush cushion, running her hand along and smoothing her skirt as she cleared her throat and looked towards her father, asking, “What did you hear from the doctor? Do they know for sure what’s going on?”

The prim-and-proper King was unusually disheveled, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt, bare feet, and unstyled hair. It was always ingrained in the Royal Family from a young age that they were to uphold the image, the one of privilege, beauty, and elegance. She could still remember from a young age the uncomfortable hours on end she’d stand straight at parades, waving and smiling at each cheering member of the public as her feet ached and cried for relief. But as the years went on, the more strict the rules would become. Seeing the vast juxtaposition of the way her father looked now only reminded her how serious this was.

Her brow arched as she took her father’s appearance in more - the heaviness in his expression, the rigidity of his frown, the hunch of his shoulders. “They’re still looking into things further but what they know for sure is that it was a heart attack,” King Joseph began, pausing as his eyes danced over the portraits of their ancestors hanging from the walls around them. Then, Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as the familiar mask slipped over Joseph, as if an outsider or staffer walked into the room - the way the tension and strain left his body in a microsecond as he sat up straight, his frown leaving his face. “They think I’ll be fine but I probably do need some time to recover.”

A soft tut echoed from her mother’s lips - one that barely toed the line of daring to challenge him - before Genevieve gently corrected his words to their children, “No, they told him he had to have time to recover.”

Rosie’s head turned to look at James as he opened his mouth, but then took a beat then let out a breath as he delicately asked, “So what does that look like?”

The tension returned to Joseph’s body and in Rosalie’s stomach as reality set in for everyone. Everyone knew that this was a lot more than just a family worried about their father’s health, it meant so much for them and the country and she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as he answered, “Probably a month off completely.” The King admitted unhappily to the Prince and Princess. Subconsciously, her posture straightened as his eyes landed on her, and she avoided the desire to avert her eyes under his occasionally-scrutinizing gaze. “Which would mean that I do need you to take over my duties during that time, and Rosalie, I will need you to officially take James’ spot on the tour. I know you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to fill in but I am going to need you.”

“It’s fine, we want to do what we can to help you recover,” she began, pausing as she struggled with how to word her concerns. Navigating a relationship with her father had always been a little bit difficult when they had moments that were more normal and familial and others that were all business. Royal life may have been hailed as glamorous and exciting, but Rosie knew how complicated and burdensome it could be. At times they felt like a real family, loving and caring for one another and having honest conversations but other times, they had to stay restrained, knowing that no matter what, the crown always came first. The truth of the matter was that - at times - her father’s role and actions intimidated her. Rarely did she have the loving paternal figure at her side as a child, more often under the care of the Palace nannies while her parents fulfilled their roles. Her thumbs itched to fiddle nervously but she restrained herself, instead finally asking, “What are we going to do about touring the coast with all the protests going on? Are we cutting that out?”

The King nodded, his lips pursed as he sprung into what was likely an already prepared response, “Well I think-”

But Genevieve rested her hand on the King’s arm, causing him to cut off as she reminded him, “No, you need to let James decide. He’s the one who’s taking on your duties, remember?”

A huff of air left his lips as he nodded shortly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “James, what do you want to do?”

The eldest was quiet for a long beat, his fingers tapping lightly on the plush arm of the couch. He stared straight ahead as he thought, his eyes landing on one of the portraits as well until his gaze turned to her, asking, “Rosie, do you have thoughts?”

A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at James, catching the amusement in his eyes at the action. “Cancel the tour and don’t make me go,” she muttered playfully, ignoring the frustrated sigh from both of her parents.

“Very funny,” James chided, lightly elbowing Rosie in the hip as her father stared at her plainly.

But Rosie shook her head, her eyes staring at James. “You know I’m not kidding,” she reminded him. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes quickly moving over her father before she looked at James again, remembering her earlier conversations with him about their younger sister. “I do terrible on these things anyway, I think Annie should go instead.”

Quickly, the King interrupted the siblings, declaring, “That’s not happening, Anneliese is too young and inexperienced.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosie thought back to how different things had been for Annie as compared to herself and James’ childhoods. While Rosie and James spent much of their adolescence bouncing in and out of boarding schools, then stepping into international tours accompanied by the King and Queen, Annie had it different. She often was left behind at home, seen as “too young” while her siblings juggled their prestigious and elite schooling with the duties of active royals, despite their adolescence. There’d always been this double standard, and while she would do anything to keep Annie as far from the machine of Royal life, she wished she had the same choice for herself.

James simply arched an eyebrow, looking at the King and reminding him, “Aren’t I making the decisions here?”

But Joseph scowled, pointing out, “Well I haven’t heard you make one yet.”

Several beats of silence passed, the tension rising between James, Rosie, and Joseph. Finally, James huffed out a breath, running his hand over his shirt. “….Rosie you have to go,” he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

There was silence for a moment and Rosie could see how pleased James’ decision made their father. But despite that, she could see the struggle in James’ face as he contended with putting his sister or her duty first. “If we cut out the coastline visits though, then it would only be a month,” she began quietly, watching James carefully. “We would avoid the protests, and then I’d be back and dad can do the rest once he’s better. This seems like a great solution.”

Both father and son rolled their eyes at Rosie’s insistence in getting her way. She was steadfast in the fact that for four years now, she’d done more than her fair share of public service - spending more time on airplanes, trains, ships, and in cars than in her own bed. She’d missed so much, she missed her friends, getting to focus her efforts on her charity outreaches, and getting to see Annie grow into the young woman she was now. But despite that, it seemed no one else realized the toll covering for James and Joseph had taken on her.

“More like a great way of you getting out of this,” James retorted, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire next to them and the echo of footsteps passing by outside the closed door.

But Rosie’s brows furrowed at James’ words, frustration rising as her opinion continued to be ignored. “When James got back I was supposed to finally get a break,” she reminded them, her voice quiet but firm. And that had been the deal - she had graduated from university, then was thrown into four years of public duty with no downtime to breathe, all so James could serve in the Air Force. Any time she brought up needing a few days to herself, it had always been “Once James is home, you can… you’ll have all the time you need.” It seemed as though that promise was not only empty, but had been forgotten.

But the look in her father’s eyes showed Rosie that he remembered that promise - and yet he was continuing to break his word. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he began, pausing delicately before adding, “But the positive of me being less visible while I recover is that it gives you the chance to be more involved.”

A scoff escaped Rosie’s lips and she didn’t care to stop it, letting her anger rise a bit. “What have I been doing the last four years, then?” She asked incredulously.

“You’ve been standing in James’ place and in his shadow but this is your chance to be Princess Rosalie, all on her own and be who you are, not fulfilling James’ role,” Joseph tried to reason with her, and she arched a single brow at him. Standing on her own, outside of James’ shadow?! As much as they all liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she’d always been and always would be in his shadow. The first-born, golden child of Ellington. She’d never hold it against him, but she didn’t think there was a single conversation she’d ever had with anyone, whether other dignitaries, tutors, or acquaintances, where James wasn’t brought up despite his absence. When you’re constantly reminded of being the second-best, the spare, and the insurance when compared to the eldest, who had their own miserable circumstances as well. It was all impossible, and it seemed Rosie stepped on the Palace’s lines much more than anyone had in the past.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but the pressure forced upon Rosie seemed to rival it, even on the best days.

“I think we all know I can’t be who I am,” she started, her voice quivering in her rising frustration. She ran a hand along her skirt, fingers coming to rest on an errant strand of fabric that her seamstress evidently missed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, we just all know that none of this is me. I was happy to stand in for James while he did what he wanted being in the Air Force but I thought that it was finally my chance to have some space.”

James’ eyes showed the weight on him, the internal struggle between duty and family. He cleared his throat quietly before whispering, “It’s only two more months, Rosie.”

“It just seems like there’s always something else. You think it’ll be the end and then the rug gets pulled out from under you,” Rosie muttered, her fingers lightly twisting the fabric, careful to not pull it from the skirt.

Joseph’s expression seemed heavy, his eyes pointed towards the ground as a hand covered part of his face, deep in thought. “I know it’s not ideal, but we need you to do this,” he decided, eyes coming to meet Rosie’s before he gestured to James. “James is the ultimate authority on it though.”

The Prince nodded, his shoulders squaring resolutely. “We don’t have a choice. Rosie, it has to be you,” he agreed, his voice strained despite his confident demeanor.

Rosie shot a look at the silent Queen, her eyes watching the conversation between her husband and eldest children intently. As she met Rosie’s eyes, the young woman shot her a pleading look, all but begging her to speak up.

Their mother hummed, giving Rosie a tight-lipped smile. “I think there is a security risk though,” she conceded sweetly, and Rosie’s shoulders slouched as she let out a small gasp of relief as her mother - the normally silent, meek woman - spoke up on her behalf.

But James ignored the magnitude of the situation, simply stating, “Then we’ll get more guards and protection.”

Rosie didn’t suppress the eye roll this time, huffing as she did so. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been the King and Prince show - it always would be, that was simply the nature of their life. The heirs mattered above all else, and their opinions shaped the lives of every person in the family. But she had continually struggled with the idea of letting it dictate her life, she wanted nothing more than to have some semblance of autonomy, despite knowing it was never in the cards, at least not now.

But it didn’t mean James’ insistence didn’t hurt. She felt he always understood where she was coming from, always looked out for her and Annie. But now, she was really seeing James step into the leadership position for the first time.

“Or I just don’t go, just reminding you all that it’s an option,” she muttered, waving a hand. Her frustration was cresting as the two men ignored not only Rosie’s, but her mother’s points as well - points that in all honesty scared Rosie.

The situation outside of the capital of Ellington was tenuous at best. Tensions had been rising for months now, and while King Joseph’s decision to keep silent may have been smart at first, it had done nothing to turn the tide since. And now to be sent into the lion’s den in all honesty scared Rosie. She was no stranger to security protocols, risks, and threats, but this had much eclipsed any past risks Rosie knew of. Each member of the Royal Family was under a microscope, never deviating from an internal schedule, always accompanied by several security members. And that was just what Rosie knew - she was sure there was more she was not privy to that James and her father were aware of.

A sudden loud crackle of the fire brought her out of her thoughts to find James rising, moving to pour himself a drink from the carafe on the long table nearby. She watched the sharpness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar stressful strain as he moved, causing Rosie to arch a brow at the sight. “I have to be here to step up in dad’s place. Rosie, you’re going to have to get used to this more.” James spoke dismissively.

She couldn’t help but look at James, her brows raising as fast as her anger - reaching levels she never knew James could elicit. “I’m the one who’s been doing this the past four years, remember?” Rosie asked sarcastically, her voice anything but amused.

He avoided her eyes, a hand reaching to run down his face as he attempted a placating, “It’s only two more months…”

She pushed out a breath, ready to respond when a sharp knock sounded at the door. All eyes landed on the oversized double wooden doors as the King’s Secretary waited for any protest before the doors pushed open.

The sudden intrusion didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise, but Rosie’s brows quickly furrowed as the aide stepped aside to reveal Edward Henry - the Communications Secretary for the Royal Family - and quite honestly Rosie’s least favorite person, who was carrying a large stack of papers.

She’d long struggled with the ‘duty’ aspect of her birthright position, the responsibility forced on her by an institution when all she wanted was normalcy. But between a lack of a proper childhood, wanting a normal university experience, being outspoken by nature, and maybe having a few brushes with untrustworthy so-called ‘friends’, she’d landed herself on Edward Henry’s bad side… quite literally for life.

At her father’s warm greeting to Edward after his obligatory bows to each member of the family, Rosie’s frustration grew. She knew she shouldn’t have come - she’d had a bad feeling about this meeting ever since receiving word of it at breakfast. Her suspicions grew when she realized Annie was omitted from the group, removing what would’ve been Rosie’s only true ally from the room and all conversations. But now, to see that the intention was never to plan a tour or shift schedules around to accommodate the King’s sudden change in health…. It was to focus on her.

The Palace and Royal Family both had struggled at times with her, Rosie could admit that herself. She felt as though she could never do things right, never be the person they tried to mold her to be. She was rigid in ways the Institution needed her to be pliable, soft in the ways they needed her to be tough, and sour when they needed her to be sweet.

“You’re joking me right?” Rosie finally spoke, arching her brow at her father as he warmly shook Edward’s hand, seeing the label ‘ITINERARY’ scribbled across the files he began handing to her father.

The King’s face hardened instantly. “Rosalie, don’t even start,” he warned, holding out his hand for Queen Genevieve to greet Edward.

But Edward was unphased, used to her often brash ways. “Princess, we have your itinerary to go over and I’d like to discuss some different things we’d like you to incorporate in your speeches at each one. Also we have picked out which charities you’ll be endorsing along the tour,” he informed her, handing copies of the folders to her mother and brother before sitting in the empty armchair between the two occupied sofas. His hand moved to hand her a copy, but ceased when the furious expression on her face was noticed.

A bitter chuckle escaped her. “So none of this mattered,” she mused, frowning as she looked at her father pointedly. “No matter what I said or felt or even what James decided didn’t matter because everything was already decided on,”

But the man simply shrugged as he paged through the plans, brows furrowed while he sat down on the sofa again. “We had to make a plan,” he informed her, as if it was that simple.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosie pushed herself off the couch. “Fine, then make your plan. It’s obvious you don’t need me here for any of it,” she informed them, dropping her eyes as she moved towards the shut doors. She could hear the sharp breath her mother took at her outright rudeness towards not only Edward, but James and her father. A scowl crossed Rosie’s lips as her eyes prickled with tears and she focused on the sound of her heels as she raced to the door.

If anyone attempted to say anything or chastise her, she didn’t hear - nor did she care - as the door practically slammed behind her. The guards standing outside the door pointedly avoided her eyes, telling Rosie everything she needed to know about what they heard. She had already turned to leave the wing when that thought made her stop. Her lip was quivering as she met the older guard’s eyes - Albert, she reminded herself, he’d accompanied her to riding lessons as a young girl - and she was surprised when he silently led the other guard to stand across the hall instead without a word, giving her the encouragement she needed.

She stood just beyond the door, giving herself enough space to make an escape if needed, but close enough to be able to hear the conversation inside.

Despite her mother’s objection, they’d clearly moved on from her outburst as she heard her father speaking, his voice carrying easily. “James, there’s a lot riding on that tour. I don’t have to tell you with all the political tension going on and protests, everyone is going to be looking at this tour and how it goes.”

“What your dad is saying is you’re going to need to keep an eye on Rosalie,” her mother said, and Rosie’s brow furrowed. She’d been doing just fine the last few years - handling double duty without anyone batting an eye. Why is she all of the sudden not good enough? But she caught herself as she thought - remembering that the golden boy had been occupied with serving Ellington in the Air Force. They must’ve had to make due with “second-best”, and Rosie’s best was no longer good enough.

But she was surprised when James was the one to speak, defending her and saying, “She’s been in my place the last couple years though and she’s done fine.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Edward and Rosie wanted nothing more than to disappear at that second, admittedly it was all she’d ever wanted. “It depends on the way you look at it,” Edward pointed out.

But James wasn’t going down without a fight, pointing out, “Well the press love her. I mean, there isn’t hardly a week that went by that the people’s princess wasn’t splashed on some headline.”

The scowl returned and the tears threatened to leak from her eyes as Edward finally contributed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her as he said, “And that’s the problem. You may love Rosalie’s personality but currently she’s in line to the throne after you and represents the royal family. If she were the youngest it would be different but she has to start taking this seriously and be more neutral.”

She tapped her fingers against her side nervously. Rosie had always known that this was the opinion of her amongst those on the outside of the family, who worked to polish and prime them. They’d attempted to do so to her for years, but they’d always gotten along like oil and water. But to be confronted with this and to overhear this, to know her own parents felt this way, hurt.

However, a small flutter of hope settled in her as James again attempted to defend her, his voice unwavering as he said, “She’s right, she has stepped into my role the past couple years and done well.”

“We just don’t think she fully sees the weight of this because you’re the one who’s next in line to the throne,” Joseph admitted, and Rosie had to do everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Yes, James’ role was unique and seemed miserable in itself. He had no choice in his life, in his future, in anything - even more than Rosie. But to live this life solely being second-place, second-loved, second-everything to someone was a different kind of miserable. You couldn’t compare the two, but neither were ideal, and for anyone to try to frame it that way completely ignored everything both she and Annie had gone through.

The grating returned to Rosie as Edward - the absolute bane of her fucking existence - unnecesarily added, “Ellington has only ever had two Queens both of them knew how to fall in line. Nobody knows what to do with Rosalie and it’s not a great look for the palace.”

“People relate to her though!” James insisted, his voice rising.

“Royals aren’t supposed to be relatable, if they are, what’s the point of having them?” Edward challenged.

There was a long silence and Rosie found herself stuck between wanting nothing more to leave and forget this all ever happened, just like she had so many times before in her life, and wanting to creep closer as the fear of missing something grew as the silence continued. Her mind was still racing, fighting against itself as she stood frozen with nearly trembling ankles when she heard James’ voice. It was soft, as if the fight had left him as he helplessly asked, “…So what do you suggest I do?”

“Just do what you can to help this tour go well. A lot hinges on this and her,” Joseph encouraged, his voice suddenly softer as well. A slight scowl graced Rosie’s lips at that realization, knowing that James often got a side of their parents that neither she nor Annie ever got. He’d gotten the most time with them - whether because of duty or love, it almost didn’t matter. She saw how much Annie yearned to have the relationship James had with them, and she found herself wishing for it at times too.

Her ear pressed closer to the overly-ornate wooden doors, yearning to hear more, but she wished she hadn’t as Edward explained, “What the Prince said isn’t wrong. The public is for the Princess, but in this tumultuous time, we need her to present more stability. People need to be comforted knowing that the royal family is stable and has the country’s best interest at heart.”

She stared at the floor, brows furrowing and confusion flooding her at those words. Unstable? Her? Sometimes she felt like the only sane person in this equation.

Her confusion was shared as James - his voice strong and firm - pointed out, “I don’t think Rosie can really be categorized as unstable.”

But Edward simply chuckled again, explaining, “Saying things off script in speeches or breaking social norms for royalty is viewed as unstable.”

“We just need her to be a constant unwavering person that people can look up to, especially when it got leaked about my health.” Her father spoke strongly. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy - if this heart attack had never happened, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. But it all seemed too convenient, the empty promises of privacy and autonomy, the sudden return of James. “We need steadiness. This tour is what can bring it and allow everyone to see Rosie as the one to help bring it.”

“I know she can do it, I just wish she didn’t have to,” James admitted, and Rosie sighed at those simple words, knowing just how much honesty was behind them.

She wasn’t surprised when her father spoke again, his words reeking of lessons a life in the public eye and service had given him. “Our life is a heavy burden at times, but whether good or bad, the crown has fallen on us. That includes Rosalie and we have to make sure we steward it well, and that matters more than any of our personal feelings.”

Tears burned at Rosie’s eyes as the weight of what they were saying sunk in. She wasn’t stupid, she was painfully aware of her image and what people thought of her. Her entire life was dictated by it and what was or wasn’t on the front page of a newspaper. The past four years she had done everything in her power to push down who the real Rosie was, trying to step into James’ shoes to allow him to have the bit of fleeting normalcy they all craved but always seemed to elude them. It had nearly killed her to shove so much of herself down, but she had done it for her duty, her country, and - most of all - for her brother. But now to hear that it wasn’t good enough? It felt like rubbing salt in the open wound on her heart.

She had absolutely no idea what else they could possibly want from her short of ripping away every single part of her personality. And the worst part? It seemed fruitless. No matter what she did, it just always fell short. Her only saving grace that kept some hope alive inside of her was that James was back. He was her only shot at being able to get some of herself back that had been buried little by little.

Once Rosie heard the group stand and pleasantries being exchanged among her parents and Edward, she raced away from the door and down the hall, not wanting to be seen. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she grappled with the onslaught of information, but quickly had to push it from her mind as her assistant called out to her, plastering a smile on her face as Claire began to explain what they needed to do to prepare for the gala honoring the military that evening.

___________________________________________________

Rosie had kept the smile glued to her face all evening, determined to be on her best behavior. While she may have chosen the other option in the past - the “fine, I’ll be what you think of me” option - today, she couldn’t. If she did, she knew what was at risk, what was on the line, and she just couldn’t stomach willingly doing it tonight.

She’d made her rounds, thanked as many service members she could find, listened to as many stories as she could stomach, laughed as many times as she could without a hint of humor actually being behind it, and had finally escaped to the side room with Claire to fix the strap of her heels when James slipped into the otherwise-empty room.

She avoided his eyes with everything in her, instead taking a long sip of her champagne to quell her nerves when James came to stand next to her, his voice low despite Claire’s proximity.

“Rosie c’mon, I know you don’t want to do this. I get it. I wish I could give you a break but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded.

Her shoulders hunched, knowing he was truly stuck. He had to live up to what their father expected - what everyone expected - but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to go against her big brother. “I know you don’t, and I don’t mean to make it harder on you. I just suck at all of this, James.” she explained.

“No you don’t. The press is for you, everyone loves you,” he reminded her, his voice soft and sweet. She appreciated the sentiment - but it felt empty to her after what she had overheard merely hours earlier.

“I just was hoping I’d finally have a break,” she admitted with a whisper, not knowing how to put it more simply than that.

James sighed, his frustration at the impossible situation evident. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he murmured, and there was no doubt in Rosie’s mind that he was honest. “I love you and you know I’m going to do what I can to make it easier.”

“I love you too and I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t,” she explained, turning as Clarie finished and scampered back into the party, leaving the siblings alone with the guards standing by the doors. “I’m just… disappointed I guess and I feel bad because I don’t want to make this worse on dad or you. I just hate doing these tours.”

“I had an idea though,” James began, pausing as Rosie arched a brow at him. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself.“What if I asked my friend to be your pilot for the tour? You remember Chris, right? My best friend from the Air Force? He’s standing out there right next to the bar.” He asked, pointing through the glass doorway to Chris.

Rosie sighed, not feeling like any of this was a good idea - especially from James - after this afternoon. There was just too much going on, Rosie feeling like so much had been shaken today. “Can’t Martin do it?” She asked, her voice meek. She knew if she had to go on this tour, if she had to deal with the risks and the tensions associated with it, that comfort would do her good. And Martin - the longtime Palace Security Head, who all but attended all of her birthday parties growing up and was truly like a father to her, would fit the bill.

“I need to pick someone who can also be with you to certain events to be your security and we both know Martin is getting too old for that,” James explained, nudging her with his elbow. “C’mon, would I stick you with someone shitty? Chris is the only person who treated me like a normal guy. You’d get along with him great and I can trust him.”

“I just…” Rosie’s voice started to trail as the feelings inside her were unable to come out of her mouth.

James’ eyebrows arched as he reached out a hand to rest on her arm, softly prodding, “What?”

There was so much Rosie wanted to say, but she knew at this point it didn’t matter. Everything had been decided for her as it had been for so long and she just quietly admitted, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

Although James moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug, Rosie felt anything but comforted. For years she had looked forward to James returning from the Air Force, especially with his voluntary choice to stay in the service for two years longer than was customary for royals. She remembered that call, James explaining that being in the Air Force was the first time he had felt normal, been treated normal, and felt like he had a bigger purpose and that he wanted to stay longer. Rosie knew it meant she had to step up to stay in his shoes longer than anticipated but she was willing to do it for him.

But it was finally going to be her turn. She was going to be able to pull back from the spotlight, disappear the way she had wanted to for so long and try to have some semblance of a normal life. All of that had been ripped away from her in what felt like an instant, prolonging and making her presence on the country even bigger which was the absolute opposite of what she wanted, but Rosie knew she didn’t have a choice.

Two months. She could do anything for two months. And then she’d be free.

[frvnkcastles]

I feel shithouse for asking since I'm not a girlie, bur I was! Trans guy here but honestly a trauma ex girlie!

Can I request something with a reader (doesn't matter the pronouns if you feel more comfy writing she/her that's chill!) Where the reader is asked to come to Christmas with their family, and frank is a plus one bur you're worried as your family are alcoholics (starting drinking at like 10 til late) and the reader is trying to cut down but their family is really pushy and feels like they're gonna fall back into bad patterns and Frank pulls them away for an hour just talking and smoking a cigarette as the readers the only dart smoker in the family as they've all transitioned to vaping?

(Maybe just mother, brother, sister in law and reader +frank, and possibly the radio keeps turning on and off and the family calling out readers grandparents in the afterlife as the cause v much jokingly?)

YOU’RE THE ONLY PLACE THAT FEELS LIKE HOME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you have to deal with your alcoholic family, Frank is there to support you.

Warnings: Alcoholism, implied past abuse, mention of deceased grandparents, reader smokes, language, gender neutral reader

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Anon, don’t feel bad at all!! This is a safe space for everyone no matter what and you’re 100% welcome here. I do wish more of my fics were gender neutral but often my ideas come from my own experiences as a mentally ill/traumatized woman and when I get requests, they usually mention she/her pronouns. That said, while I don’t really know how to write from the perspective of a man, I have no problem writing a gender neutral reader if it’s specified. Also, I am very sorry you had to wait such a long time for this, I hope you like it!! Sending you lots of love <3

When your family invited you to spend the holidays with them, you instinctively knew you were in for an uncomfortable time. Since you had moved out, you had tried to keep your distance and unlearn the bad habits that you had developed at home — like drinking. That was your first and foremost concern, having to witness their drunken behavior and how the situation would most likely escalate sooner or later, as it always did. You had done a great job of cutting down but you feared that being back in their company would force you to undo all your progress.

The one good thing about the whole thing was that they didn’t protest you bringing Frank along. He made most shitty situations better just by being present, and you instantly felt heard and comforted when he agreed to come with you. Frankly, he was opposed to the mere thought of letting you go alone, knowing all about your complicated family history and therefore determined to support you through every encounter.

”Y’know you’re allowed to decline, yeah? Don’t wanna see you puttin’ yourself through shit just ’cause they’re askin’”, he reminded as you were getting ready to leave for your mother’s house. Pulling on his jacket, he eyed you, looking for any hint of hesitation on your face, but you were doing a good job at putting up a brave front. You wanted to keep the peace, and admittedly, a little bit of you missed your family and ached to spend time with them, even if you knew it probably wouldn’t end well.

”Thanks, Frankie. It’s okay, I want to go. Just… need you by my side”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank stepped over to you to press a kiss on your temple, brief but full of emotion.

”You got me, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he assured before taking your hand and steering you out the door.

He encouraged you to take deep breaths during the drive over, noticing with ease how anxiety was starting to manifest in your bouncing leg and chewed bottom lip. You tried to take Frank’s advice and keep yourself calm, but as soon as you arrived at the house, you came to the conclusion the night was already becoming more intense than you had anticipated.

There was a haze of drunken stupor in the air and loud chatter filled every room, tipping almost over to downright shouting. Bottles and cans littered the tables and the realization that everyone was already drunk unsettled you, making you swallow hard as you reached for Frank’s hand. He squeezed tight, unwavering as he stood next to you.

”Finally! Took you long enough”, your brother noticed you standing by the door, and he rushed to you, shoving a bottle of beer into your hands. You shook your head and handed it back over to him, which earned a scoff from me. ”What, you too good for us now?” he mocked, but he didn’t linger to hear your response, just stomped back to the dining room where your mother was setting up dinner.

You glanced at Frank, and he directed an affirming nod at you, giving you the strength and will to walk to the dining table with him right behind you. You exchanged greetings with your mother who was clearly tipsy at the very least, and your attempts to make conversation went unheard and unnoticed. You supposed it was a good thing — they weren’t actively picking fights with you, at least.

Frank, ever the gentleman, helped bring in all the food and the plates, with the same goal as you: keeping the peace. He wasn’t interested in befriending your family because of all the trauma they had bestowed upon you, but for your sake, he remained cordial and polite. That said, he was ready to defend you at the smallest thing.

As everyone sat down for dinner, your mother poured you a glass of liquour and you instantly felt opposed to the idea. ”Oh, I don’t really drink anymore”, you tried, and in an instant, your mother and brother exchanged looks that were judgmental as well as surprised.

”One drink won’t kill you”, your mother insisted, continuing to pour until the glass was filled to the brim. You licked your lips nervously, but unwilling to start a full-blown argument by refusing, you reached for the glass.

Frank stopped you, however. ”They don’t gotta drink anythin’ they don’t wanna”, he spoke firmly, his tone stern enough to warn everyone not to start with him. You smiled softly at him and he squeezed your thigh in response, keeping you close to him in the hopes that his warmth would ground you in the otherwise anxiety-inducing environment.

Your mother opened her mouth to retort something, but she was cut off by the radio crackling, quickly redirecting her attention. ”Must be your grandparents again”, she commented with a laugh, one you didn’t return. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat and Frank gave your arm a comforting caress, his eyes darting between you and your family. He hated seeing you in these situations that only distressed you, and he wished there was more he could have done to help.

But he tried by gaining control of the conversation. It was a gesture you appreciated greatly, especially because you knew he was most definitely not the kind of man who participated in small-talk. He was used to sitting back and observing, but right now, you didn’t have the capacity to keep chatting and he didn’t mind taking the reins on your behalf. He kept your mother busy so that she wouldn’t have the chance to push you to drink, but your brother still jumped at the opportunity.

”You’re really not gonna drink that? God, you really have changed. Can’t even have a drink with your family anymore”, he rolled his eyes, trying his very best to guilt you into having a sip, and it almost worked. You were moments away from cracking under the pressure, but once again, Frank came to your rescue.

”We’re, uh, we’re gon’ get some fresh air. Excuse us”, Frank informed curtly, his words respectful but his tone cold, just like the look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you sit there as the target of their complaints anymore, and so, he helped you up from the seat and guided you outside into the refreshing air.

You exhaled heavily as you dug out a cigarette with shaky hands, and Frank ran his hand across his face in frustration. He was seething, feeling so much anger towards your family for being so pushy with you, and he was desperate to just carry you in the car and take you home right now.

”We ain’t gotta stay, baby. The way they treat you… makes me real upset for you. Just say the word and I’ll take you home, got that?” he swore, his eyes piercing yours as you inhaled the cigarette. You pondered on his offer, and you couldn’t deny that it sounded tempting — it wasn’t a good time so far, and you doubted it was getting any better with all the alcohol they were consuming nonstop.

”Yeah, I don’t really want to stay for long. Let’s just get through dinner and then we’ll go?” you suggested, and sucking in a breath, Frank bowed his head in an agreeing nod.

”Whatever you wanna do. But I ain’t lettin’ you drink when you’ve done so well without any”, he decided with a point of his finger, and with an appreciative smile curling your lips, you reached for his forearm and squeezed.

”Thank you, Frankie. This would suck a lot more without you”, you noted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank shrugged.

”Yeah, well, I’d need a damn good reason not to be here for you. I don’t want you to deal with all this all by yourself, y’know?” he explained, stepping closer to you and winding an arm over your shoulders. He pulled you closer, and while making sure you wouldn’t get ash on him, you leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of his firm body against yours.

”I know it sucks. It’s just… they’re my family. I’ve realized it’s not healthy for me to spend a lot of time with them but sometimes I miss them”, you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed to speak the truth, but Frank wouldn’t judge you.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, in fact. ”I hear ya. It ain’t easy to cut off the people you’ve grown up with. I’m proud of you, anyway. You’re doin’ so great, hear me?” he emphasized, wanting you to know that he admired your strength. You were the most amazing person he knew and he would never let you forget that.

”You’re so sweet”, you muttered, shy under his praise and deep stare, and he reacted with a snort.

”That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that ’bout me, sweetheart”, he declared, and it made you laugh — even if you strongly felt like he should hear it all the time.

Sighing, you put out your cigarette. ”I guess we should head back inside”, you gave in, but with a tut, Frank pulled you back from the door.

”I mean, they ain’t exactly lookin’ for us yet. We’re in no hurry, yeah? We can take a moment, just you and me”, he proposed instead, and you didn’t take much convincing, especially with his dark eyes looking so soft and caring as they bore into yours. There was a small, hopeful smile on his lips, and that was enough to reel you in.

”I’d like that”, you agreed before leaning in to kiss his cheek. ”Thanks for everything, Frank. This really means a lot”, you added, and caressing your hair, he shook his head.

”Ya gotta stop thankin’ me, darlin’. I’m just doin’ what I can to help. And treatin’ you the way you deserve, aight?” he countered, serious about being good to you. And so far, he had been successful in every way.

It was going to be a long night, but you felt encouraged with Frank by your side, and you knew you had a way out if you just told him you wanted to go. It didn’t erase all your problems with your family, but it was safe to say you had found a new one in Frank.

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday - Chapter 10 of The Redemption and Subsequent Death of Bill Cipher

Bill is drinking tea as he looks down at Dipper’s journal. The most recent pages are several detailed descriptions and theories revolving the entity known as Copernicus (Less of an “entity” and more of a “pain in the ass” in Bill’s opinion, but tom-may-to, to-mah-to). After wading through what memories he’s got, Bill has divulged everything he can come up with on both the demon himself and incubi in general.

“So, they’re only as strong as who they’re feeding off of?” Dipper asks, scribbling something down.

Bill makes a halfway gesture.

“They’re only as strong as the strength they’ve accumulated and the realm that they’re rooted to. Copernicus feeds on this realm, most incubi do because it’s a plane rife with people who all hate their lives and are willing to indulge in anything to escape it. The goal is to feed here and tear it up in another dimension, usually the Nightmare Realm. Copernicus wants to feed and tear it up here, so he needs to bring his roots into this realm. If he does that, he doesn’t need Dottie Gleeful anymore and can just walk around and cause indiscriminate chaos.”

“Which is why he needs the rift opened—“

“So he can squeeze his scrawny ass through,” Bill mutters into the tea before taking a sip.

“How do we avoid doing that while getting him out of a person?”

Bill comes a little closer over Dipper’s shoulder.

“Your uncle’s working on that right now,” Bill mumbles before pointing at the book and the drawing that Dipper has rendered of Copernicus’ previous demon form, per Bill’s description. “Good sketch, kid.”

Dipper smiles up at him before turning back to it.

“What does he look like normally?”

Bill sighs at that.

“Well, it’s… a little more complicated.” He stares down into the cup for a second. “I always knew him like that, as a diamond with three eyes, similar to the way I used to look, but a different shape, color, and eyes set-up. He also likes neck-ties and bowler hats.”

“But?”

“But incubi are a lot more fluid with their form,” Bill explains. “He put that form on to appease me. To… To make me feel less alone.”

Copernicus, once upon a time, had been very good at that. Up until a couple of months prior, he hadn’t remembered their time together unfondly. Copernicus had been a pretty good boyfriend, all things considered. They’d drifted the Nightmare Realm together, caused undue chaos, and when Bill had told him about the things he heard, the things he saw, Copernicus believed him.

Another universe, they might have ruled this stupid planet together.

But now Bill wants to “protect it” and that kind of throws a wrench in everything else.

Not to mention his current “boyfriend” situation which is less of a “boyfriend” situation and a “maybe-not-also-kind-of-yes-boyfriend-situation”. Which, like, now isn’t exactly the time to quantify that just because they slept together.

And Bill said that he loves him.

And neither of them have commented on it in the few days since.

It’s fine. It’s good. All fine. Time to figure this stuff out once they dealt with everything else.

Right.

“What’s he look like when he’s normal?”

It takes a second for Bill to conjure the image, thinking back to the dream he’d had before they exorcised him.

“Kind of… amorphous. A cloud, grey-purple in color. Lots of hands and eyes. God, Cooper’s really just eyes. Incubi tend to have very fluid forms, lets them adapt to different forms with ease.”

“So if he is able to get the rift open—“

“No, he won’t just turn into anyone.” Bill lets out an almost bitter laugh. “He’s vain as anything, you saw the way he was with Dottie. He’s got forms he favors and he’ll turn into one of those. But, we’re not opening the rift, so it’s not really an issue that we—“

“We’re going to open the rift,” Ford announces as he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh, look,” Bill glances to Dipper, “your uncle’s gone crazy.”

[mackenzielovee]

parenthood part twenty three: forever & always, and then some

a/n: oh boy! 12k words to (hopefully) feed your parenthood craving. i am already dying to know what you all think of this, so please don't hesitate to hop into the comments or my ask box to talk! hope you enjoy! reblogs are appreciated :)

warnings: angst warning. swearing, verbal arguments, anxiety, panic attack, crying, kissing

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

     The Island Club hasn’t changed one bit since you were employed here and running drinks around to Rafe and his friends before you knew he even had a crush on you. As you watch the waitresses make their rounds to the same customers, serving the same food to the same tables, you chuckle to yourself at the thought of ever having to deal with that again. 

Scott sits across from you, fidgeting in his seat slightly as he holds himself back from pulling a cigarette from his pocket. You skim over him, taking in his appearance. 

His hair is freshly cut and the rosiness is back in his cheeks after having disappeared for so long. He’s eating three meals a day again, and to you, it seems his only unhealthy habit is smoking. In time, you’re sure he will move past that. 

“How’re the kids?” he asks, looking up at you. 

“They’re good,” you reply, “They’re busy bees lately. Connor is starting on a soccer team, so Rafe’s been helping him practice.”

“That’s awesome,” Scott grins, and the sight makes you smile, “Kid always has had one hell of a kick. What about Josie girl?”

You chuckle, “She’s all about dance, recently. She wants me to sign her up for a class, and I’ve been trying to get this teacher to call me back about getting her in.”

“Wow. Good for her. She’s so driven, Y/N. They both are.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” you laugh. 

He gives you a smile, but it fades fast before he asks, “And, Rafe?” 

“He’s doing really well. He’s less stressed at work, and he’s spending a lot of time with the kids.”

Scott nods, “Is he still… y’know? Pissed at me?”

You sigh and look down at your lap, unwilling to respond right away. Rafe’s feelings toward Scott have been complicated ever since he showed up to the house and scared the shit out of you and the kids, even though you’ve worked through it and have encouraged Rafe to do the same. Your loyalty to your brother runs deeper than Rafe’s does — because, as he puts it, he will always choose the safety and security of his family. Especially his children. 

“He’s not pissed, Scott,” you say carefully. 

“Right, he’s just done with me,” he laughs dryly, “Look, it’s fine, Y/N. I get it.”

You nod, and when your waiter drops your plates in front of you, you’re relieved when Scott eats his meal and has several glasses of water. 

He tells you about the new job he just started and how he’s finally, officially, cut ties with Mae after she’s yanked him around for over a year. How he’s attending regular AA meetings and actually participating in them. He’s even made a few friends in the group, and they go out to eat together after their meetings to keep themselves busy. 

By the time he pays for your lunch and walks you out to your car, you can’t help but pull him into a tight embrace. He hugs you back and gives you a wide smile, silently telling you that he really is doing better. 

“So, listen, I was kinda hoping I could see them soon,” he says, clarifying, “The kids.”

You know you should run it by Rafe first, but the look in Scott’s eye and the pride swelling in your heart at his improvement has you answering faster than you should. 

“That would be great,” you nod. 

He smiles, “Perfect. How about Wednesday afternoon? I don’t have to be at work ‘til six. Do they have sports or anything?”

You hold up a finger and check the calendar on your phone, finding nothing for yourself or either of the kids on Wednesday after they get home from school. 

“Wednesday works,” you reply, “I’ll bring them to your apartment.”

“Awesome,” he beams, then pulls you in for another hug, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I can’t wait.”

“The kids will be very excited,” you tell him, squeezing him tight. 

He laughs lightly, sounding like himself and making you relax even more. He’s finally in a better place, and you couldn’t be happier about it. 

Scott opens your car door for you and then closes it once you’re inside. He stands there and watches as you back out, then offers you a wave before you drive away. You smile the whole way home, thankful beyond belief that your brother is doing right by himself and improving his life where he needs it. 

     When you get home, Rafe is in the kitchen. You smile at the sight of him at the stove, stirring peppers around a skillet and listening to music. You can hear the kids playing in the playroom, and when Rafe notices you come in, he steps away from the food and to you. 

“Hey, baby, how was lunch?” he asks, helping you remove your jacket. 

“It was good,” you say with a smile, “Club hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Nah, I figured as much.”

He hangs up your jacket and your purse for you, then steps back over and guides his arm around your waist. You smile and set your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth. 

“How are the kids?” you ask him. 

“Josie hid Connor’s firetruck underneath the couch, and Bo got it,” he fills you in, watching your eyes pop in horror, “He was very distraught.”

“Oh, no, poor baby,” you pout, “I’ll see if I can find another one for him tomorrow.”

Rafe grins, “You’re so good to them, they don’t even know it.”

You laugh and grab ahold of his chin lightly, pulling him down to give him a kiss. He accepts it, then offers you a small apology as he momentarily breaks away to pull the skillet off the heat and to the back burner. 

When he moves back to you, assuming the same position, you swallow your nervousness of breaching the topic, and instead, slip your hands under his shirt. 

“So, listen,” you start, “Scott got a job. He’s working nights right now, and he goes after his AA meetings. He seems really, really good.”

He nods patiently, but you can tell by his eyes that he’s not receptive whatsoever to where you’re going to take this conversation. 

“That’s good,” he replies, his voice even. 

“Yeah, it is,” you say hopefully, rising up on your tiptoes, “So, anyway, he was asking if he could see the kids on Wednesday before he has to work.”

Rafe raises a brow, “And what did you tell him?”

You swallow again and press your palms into his skin, hoping your touch will lighten him up.

“Well, I… I think it’s a good idea. It would be good for him, and the kids miss him.”

Rafe’s chest deflates against your hands, and only because you know him so well can you predict what he’s going to say next. 

“Look, sweetheart, I’m thrilled that Scott is doing better. I am. I just don’t think this is the best time for that. Josie’s still adjusting to school, and Connor’s getting settled in a new classroom and he’s on a sports team. I feel like they have enough change going on right now, you know?”

You nod slowly, but look to the floor. He covers your hands with his own and takes them, bringing both of your knuckles up to his lips to kiss. You meet his eyes then, and you both take a second to analyze the other person’s expression. 

“It’s not really a change, though,” you push, keeping your voice light, “It’s just Scott.”

“Y/N, Scott scared the shit out of both of them when he showed up drunk.”

“I know, but he apologized for that,” you reply. 

Rafe drops your hands, “That doesn’t make it okay. To be honest, I’m just not comfortable with it. I need more time to work through things with him. I’m sorry, but can we please table this for now?”

You move to speak up, but bite your tongue at the very last second when one specific thought hits you. If you told Rafe you weren’t comfortable with something, he’d never fight with you on it. He would never pressure you into anything, and the thought of doing that to him makes your stomach turn. 

“Yes, of course,” you answer, “Thank you for being straight with me. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

Rafe shifts and sets one large palm on your hip bone, where he pulls your body closer to his. 

“I’m not saying no, sweetheart. I’m just saying that I’d like to give it a little more time and make sure Scott really sticks to this change before we bring the kids back into it. That’s all.”

You nod and offer him a smile, “I understand, Rafe. I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Thank you,” he says sweetly, “Now, Connor and I are making a grocery store run. Need anything?”

You step closer, “Coffee. And laundry pods for the washer. But not the blue and white ones—”

“The green and yellow ones, I know,” he teases, “I also put a stick of deodorant on the list for you, considering you went to throw it in the garbage this morning and fuckin’ banked the shot.”

“Excuse me,” you scoff, even though your heart swells at the fact that he not only noticed that, but also remembered it and put it on the list, “We need more bananas, too. You know what Josie’s like when we run out of those for her lunch.”

He laughs, “Yeah. Okay. Bananas, coffee, and laundry pods. I’ve got the rest of the list, but text me if you remember anything okay?”

“Okay,” you smile, “Thanks, handsome.”

He nods and signals for a kiss, grinning when you stand up on your tiptoes to give to him. When you pull back, he yells for Connor, knowing Josie will come running, too. 

“Oh, hey, did that lady ever call you back about Josie’s dance class?” he asks. 

“No,” you groan, “I’m hoping she will in the next few days. Otherwise, I’ll look somewhere else. I just heard that place is so good, I really wanted her to try it out.”

He shrugs, “She’ll be great anywhere. Come on, Connor! Shoes and jacket, hurry!”

He kisses you again quickly before he pulls away to get his own shoes and jacket, finishing in record time so he could steal just a few more kisses before the Sunday chores officially start. 

     Monday comes before you know it, and it brings a wave of destruction. Your meetings all get delayed, your work project is put on suspension, and Rose is driving you crazy about an upcoming event that you’re not even technically assigned to. 

Even more than that, Josie had a day. She refused to let go of you when you dropped her off at preschool, and after you managed to escape, they called you twice and Rafe once to report that she would not stop crying and demanding one of you to come get her. Being the parent at home on Mondays, Rafe picked her up, and she sat with him in his home office for the remainder of the day. 

     Tuesday morning finds you easier. You’re seated at your desk and fire up your work email after dropping both kids off at school — Josie did better today — when you realize that you never told Scott that the plans for tomorrow are off. 

You draft up a text message slowly over the next few hours, trying to sound equal parts assertive and sympathetic. At one o’clock, right before you send the text, your drafting is interrupted by a phone call. The nurse at Connor’s school tells you that he’s been running a fever and complaining of a stuffy nose and sore throat since before lunch. You sigh and agree to be right there to get him, then hit send on the text to Scott without thinking twice about it. 

     You return home with both Connor and Josie behind you. Well, Josie walks behind you while Connor lays in your arms, mumbling softly about how he feels cold despite his fever being high. Josie helps you the best she can to get Connor settled in his room, where you lay him in bed and put a light blanket over him, then get him a cup of water and take his temperature once more. It’s still high, so you give him a kiss and tell him to sleep for a bit before you come back up to check on him. 

“Is Connor okay, Mommy? Can we make him some soup?” Josie asks as the two of you slip out of his bedroom. 

You smile and pick her up, giving her a hug since you didn’t get to when you picked her up from school. 

“We should make him some soup,” you agree, “And, I’m sure you’re ready for your after-school snack, too.”

She grins mischievously, “Maybe.”

You laugh and carry her downstairs to the kitchen, where your phone sits on the counter. The screen fills with unanswered texts, so you set Josie down and grab it, scrolling through the messages. 

The first one you open is Rafe’s chain. Two from him — both exactly what you expected them to be. 

Just got a notification you checked Connor out of school? Is everything okay? 

I’ve got a meeting in half an hour but I can come home after if you need me. 

You look over at Josie, watching as she uses the handle on the bottom oven as a balance beam for ballet. Your heart squeezes, and you make a mental note to reach out to other dance studios in the area tomorrow. 

Quickly, you text Rafe back while stepping over to the pantry to get Josie a snack. 

He’s sick, but okay. Slight fever and head cold. Nothing to worry about. Good luck on your meeting, handsome. I love you. 

He returns the sentiment quickly, while also reminding you to call him if things change. Then, as you pour animal crackers into a bowl, you switch over to Scott’s text chain. 

First, you reread the text you sent to him. 

Hey, so I discussed things with Rafe, and we have decided to hold off on allowing the kids to come over. For now. We think it’s best to give you some more adjustment time, and then we can revisit the idea. I’m sorry, Scott. But, I will try to do better by sending you more pics of them. Just hang in there. Love you. 

You know it’s not perfect, but it has to do. It gets your point across, it doesn’t blame Rafe, and it’s sugar coated just enough for him. 

His reply follows your message, and the length looks drastically different. 

Y/N, I’m adjusted. I just want to see them. Didn’t you tell Rafe I’m doing better? Why is he keeping them from me?

“Mommy!” Josie calls, standing at the kitchen window, “There’s a red bird on the fence!” 

You frown at Scott’s text but lock your phone, then carry Josie’s snack over to her. You look out the window to where she’s pointing and find the cardinal that’s holding her attention so well. 

“Wow, beautiful, huh?” you ask, and she nods before you say, “Okay, come on. Let’s sit at the table and have a snack.”

She obeys and sits in her usual seat at the table, smiling widely when you follow her. You sit with her while she eats and talk to her about her day at school, listening intently even as she tells you the same story for ten entire minutes. 

You perk up when you hear the front door close. You know Rafe wouldn’t be coming into the house with his meeting coming up, and a fresh wave of worry passes through your body. 

“Y/N?”

You relax when you hear Scott’s voice, but only for a second. He knows he’s not allowed to come to the house; you had talked Rafe out of taking Scott’s key from him after his latest episode. 

Josie, like you, recognises the voice, and practically tips her chair right over as she attempts to get up. 

“Uncle Scott!” 

Her scream is loud, and she takes off from the kitchen before you can stop her. You groan internally, scrambling to already try and figure out what you’re going to say to Rafe. Despite it all, you follow Josie out of the kitchen and to the foyer, where she is currently diving into Scott’s open arms. 

“Hey, lovebug,” he grins widely, “Wasn’t sure you’d be home from school yet. I’m so happy to see you!”

She locks herself around his neck and presses kiss after kiss to his cheek, laughing when he laughs. 

“I’ve missed you,” she tells him, “Where have you been?”

He smiles sadly, then returns her kisses with his own, “I’ve been getting myself together. For you and Connor. Are you proud of me?”

“Yes,” she giggles, “Want to have an after school snack with me?”

His smile at her question tells you just how much the question means to him, and when he looks over at you for approval, you just can’t say no. Not to Scott; not to your baby brother who has struggled so much for so long, and just needs a little bit of love to keep him going. You can’t fault him for that, and no part of you is able to even consider kicking him out. Even if it’s not what you and Rafe have discussed and agreed on, you hope that when you explain, he will understand. 

You nod your head, and he turns and kisses her cheek again, like he just can’t help himself. 

“I would love to,” he agrees. 

Scott carries her into the kitchen and you follow. He sets her down and lets her run over to her chair, but he hangs back just long enough to talk to you. 

“I’m sorry, I just came over to talk about your text. I didn’t think she’d be here—”

“It’s fine,” you reply, waving him off, “Connor’s home sick from school, so I picked her up because I can’t leave him to go get her later.”

He nods, “Do you need me to bring you anything for him? Soup? Gatorade?”

“No, I have it covered,” you reply, “Go. She’s waiting so patiently for you.”

He chuckles when he sees her sitting on her knees in the chair, waving him over with an animal cracker half shoved into her mouth. Without hesitation, he rushes over and takes a seat beside her, stealing one of her animal crackers and laughing when she protests. 

You puff out your cheeks and check the time, wondering if you can squeeze in a quick call to Rafe before his meeting. When you decide you can’t, you set your phone back down. You’re here, you’re supervising, and he won’t be mad, you tell yourself. Scott can’t do anything wrong with you here, too. 

Your phone’s sharp ring draws you out of your head. When you look to see who’s calling, you gasp and practically pounce on the phone — the dance school that you’ve been trying to get Josie into. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron?”

“Yes,” you reply. 

“Hi there. My name is Chelsea, I’m calling to see if you are still interested in signing your daughter, Josephine, up for dance class?”

“Yes,” you say enthusiastically, waving to Scott and then holding up your finger as you step into the living room, “Yes, I am. She’s really excited to start.”

“Oh, wonderful. We actually have an opening today in our three o’clock class. It’s only one spot, but if you could bring her by today, I can almost guarantee it would be hers.”

You freeze, “Today?”

“Yes ma’am. Spots here tend to go fast, but I saw your last name, and we wanted to offer you and your daughter the spot, first.”

“Oh,” you say, brain running a mile a minute as you try to figure out how to make this all work out, “Um, yes, thank you, we’d love the spot. I just have a few things to work out, but I will do my best to get her there by three o’clock. Does she need to bring anything?”

“We’ll just do a trial run for today, so we have everything she will need here. If you all are interested in continuing after today, we can give you a list of everything she will need for future classes.”

You barely even hear her words, too busy trying to figure out how you’re supposed to be in two places at once. You want Josie to be in this dance school desperately, but with Connor being so sick, you don’t know how to make it happen. 

“Thank you, I’ll try to work it out and have her there at three,” you say, trying to sound more chipper than you are, “Thank you so much for calling.”

“Yes ma’am. See you soon!”

You disconnect the call and let out a long sigh, having wanted that phone call to come at a better time than just now. You wander back into the kitchen and find Scott and Josie still giggling at the kitchen table, and when they both look over at you, you offer a smile. 

“Who was that?” Scott asks. 

You give Josie a smile, “It was the dance studio I’ve been trying to get Josie into. They have an opening for this afternoon.”

“No way!” she exclaims, “Mommy, we have to go!”

Scott can see it on your face before you can even say a word. He watches as you subconsciously glance back over your shoulder, desperate to check on Connor and not sure what to do. Under normal circumstances, you’d call Rafe — at least to just talk it out. But with him in a meeting and unavailable, you don’t have that option. 

“I can take her,” Scott volunteers, “I know you won’t leave Connor, so let me take her to dance. Just there and back, I promise.”

“Yes!” Josie screams, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, Mommy, yes!”

You shake your head, “Scott—”

“Y/N, let me help you out,” he says, “Come on. I can do it.”

“Mommy,” Josie repeats, “I want Uncle Scott to take me to dance.”

“Scott,” you whisper, “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And you’re drowning,” he points out, “I swear. I can totally handle it. I’ll even video the whole thing for you. Please, come on, let me prove myself to you. To Rafe.”

At the mention of your husband, your eyes find your phone. You want to call him more than anything, but you can’t. Then, you think about the agreement amongst parents when they’re raising children together. There are so many split second decisions that a parent has to make, so they trust that their partner will make the right one. Rafe trusts that you will make the right decision for your shared children, and right now, you can only see one. 

“Okay,” you sigh. Josie’s squeals interrupt you and Scott grins, grabbing her from her chair as you add, “Just there and back. No ice cream, no playground. Just to the studio and back, alright?”

“Alright,” Scott repeats back, still smiling, “We’re gonna have so much fun, right, lovebug?”

“Right!” she squeals.

“Josie, go get your shoes, okay?” you say, watching her nod feverishly, like she just can’t wait for Scott to put her down so they can go to dance. 

“Okay!” she says quickly, rushing off. 

Scott laughs as he watches her go, and when he turns back to you, his expression falls. 

“I need you to take extensive notes,” you say sternly, watching his smile grow once more. 

“You got it,” he replies. 

You allow yourself to smile, too, and he pulls you into a hug. He squeezes his thankfulness into you, and only pulls away when Josie returns with her shoes. 

     You hurry upstairs to check on Connor after putting Josie in her car seat and into Scott’s truck. As you feel Connor’s forehead, he stirs and groans, but he still feels very warm. 

“Mama?” he whispers into the air. 

“Hey, baby,” you reply, “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he whines, “I’m cold. And I need a tissue.”

You grab the box from his nightstand and offer him one, then help him sit up. He blows his nose and hands the tissue back to you, then lays back down. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll bring you some more medicine in a little bit, okay?” 

He nods. His lower lip juts out in the pout he always gives you when he’s sick, so you lean down and kiss his forehead before you stand. You retuck his blanket around him, then use careful steps to escape the dark room. 

Downstairs, you hurry into the kitchen and start heating up from soup for Connor, then pour out the next dose of his medicine. You make him a nice tray of everything so he can eat in bed; complete with crackers, a water bottle, and his iPad so he can watch a show while he eats. Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on it, ready to take it upstairs and check on him again, your phone buzzes on the counter. And buzzes. And buzzes. 

Scott’s contact picture lights up your screen, and you furrow your brows as you check the time. They should just be getting to the dance studio, and you wonder if someone had questions for him that he couldn’t answer. 

“Hello?” you say innocently. 

“Y/N,” he sighs, almost in relief, but his voice also holds another emotion, too, “Listen, don’t freak out.”

You freeze, “What? Why?”

The worst possible scenarios go through your brain instantly, and you begin to listen for signs of Josie in the background. Her laugh, her whine at Scott to hurry up. 

“Just let me get it all out, first,” he demands, then groans in pain, “Fuck, okay, we got into an accident. Josie is fine. Not hurt at all. I think I broke my arm, so I’m in an ambulance. They’re taking both of us to the hospital, but she’s right here, she’s good, she’s with me.”

You suddenly can’t suck in a deep breath. All you can picture is Josie in the back of an ambulance, hurt. Josie in a car accident. Josie being scared because she doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

Tears blur your vision just at the thought of her being alone, and the inhale that you try to suck in is sharp and quick. 

“Let me speak to her,” you choke out. 

Scott sighs but complies with your request, and you listen to their muffled voices before you get clarity. 

“Mommy, Uncle Scott is hurt,” she tells you, and just the sound of her voice brings relief to your body, mind, and heart. 

“Josie, baby, are you okay?” you ask her, letting the tears run without a care in the world. 

“Yes, Mommy. They let me put the siren on.”

You laugh, then cry again, “Oh, that’s awesome. Listen, Mommy’s gonna come pick you up, okay? Can you just stay with Uncle Scott for a little bit?”

Josie immediately whines, “No, he’s hurt. I have to stay with him. I told Daddy I am staying.”

A fresh wave of anxiety runs through your body. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind yet, but apparently, it had to Josie. 

“You told Daddy?” you ask weakly, “When?”

“I called him,” she answers, “I was scared, and wanted Daddy.”

“Oh,” your eyes flutter shut, “Okay, honey. Just stay with Uncle Scott until I see you. I love you so much, Jo.”

“Love you, too, Mommy,” she says, sounding perfectly fine, perfectly normal, and all you want to do is get to her. 

She hands the phone back to Scott, and you hear him grunt again in pain before his voice comes through the speaker. 

“”Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “It wasn’t my fault, I swear, I did everything right—”

“I’m on my way,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any of the details right now, “Just… I love you. I’m glad you’re okay other than the arm.”

He takes a minute to answer, and you can see the exact expression on his face as he debates what’s best to do right now. 

“Thanks,” he eventually says, “I love you, too.”

“See you soon,” you mumble, then disconnect the call before either one of you can say anything else. 

The first thing you do is check your text messages. Rafe has sent nothing, said nothing. When it comes to Rafe, you know silence from him is worse than anything else. You take a deep breath and attempt to type out a text to him, but delete it before you can find the words to explain to him any part of it. 

With a long sigh, you hurry up the stairs and into Connor’s room, forgetting all about his soup and medicine. He sits up when you enter, and when he sees the expression on your face, his eyes widen. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” he asks, coughing after he finishes his question. 

“We have to go, baby. Can you come with me, please?” 

He nods and stands from his bed, bringing his blanket along with him. You put socks on his feet and slide his shoes on, then carry him down the stairs, wrapped in his blanket. Your mind can’t stop running wild as you picture Josie in Scott’s truck, scared out of her mind. You don’t even notice the tears that fall until Connor reaches up and brushes them away with his finger. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, you strap him into his car seat and pull back to look at his face. 

“I’m so sorry, handsome,” you whisper, “I know you don’t feel well, but we have to go pick up Josie.”

“Okay, Mama,” he replies, even going so far as to offer you a small smile. 

You’re grateful for it, and you show him such. With a kiss on the cheek, you close the car door and climb into the driver’s side, all while trying not to burst into tears again. 

Your knuckles turn white as you squeeze the steering wheel, glancing up at Connor every five seconds in the rear view mirror. He’s still okay, still staring out the window, but you’re paranoid about every single car that even comes close to yours. 

The drive to the hospital finally comes to an end, and you’ve barely parked your car before you’re out of it again. Connor is once again placed on your hip, and you rush in from the parking lot. 

Once you’re inside, you hurry to the closest nurse you can find. She directs you to a desk, who directs you to another nurse, who, finally, tells you what room number to go to. Connor buries his head in your neck and starts to cough again, and the guilt piles on top of your chest. 

You finally spot the room number on the wall and rush to it, just needing to lay eyes on her. To assess her for injuries and make sure that she really is okay. When you enter, you relax instantly. Scott is laying in the bed with his arm in a sling, and Josie is seated in the middle of his chest, giggling as he pokes her stomach. They both look so happy despite their current state and what they’ve been through in the past hour. 

“Josie,” you sigh in relief, setting Connor down in the singular chair before hurrying to her and pulling her into your arms. 

“Mommy,” she cheers, “Look, Uncle Scott got a boo-boo.”

You cradle her head and rock her in your arms, then glance at Scott. He’s giving you a sad smile and a wave using his bad arm, but you shake your head at him. 

“Is it broken?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug, “I’ll get a cool brace for it, though.”

You roll your eyes, “Scott—”

“Y/N,” he stops you, his expression suddenly serious, “The guy ran a red light. I didn’t even see him coming until— Look, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my fault.”

“I know,” you nod, and you mean it. 

He’s your brother, and you believe him. Especially because he needs you to so desperately, given that he won’t stop trying to explain himself. 

“Good. Now, I have to use the bathroom, then I want to see what’s going on with Little Cam. You don’t look so hot, dude.”

Connor shrugs, “Been better.”

Scott chuckles and stands from the hospital bed, taking two steps over to Connor. 

“You like my sling?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Connor smiles, “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m tough.”

Connor laughs and so does Josie, and for a brief moment, you feel emotionally stable. You feel at peace, knowing that everyone is okay. 

Then, the door pushes open, and reality slaps you right in the face. You turn too late, and Rafe’s eyes have already assessed the room. He’s frozen for a moment, long enough for you to set Josie down, because you know she’ll want to run to him. 

Instead of waiting on that, however, Rafe crosses the room in a few strides, and you figure out just a beat too late what’s going to happen. 

With a clenched jaw and a balled fist, Rafe states at Scott right as he starts to explain what happened. 

“Yo, Rafe—” he starts, but Rafe’s fist connects with his jaw and knocks him flat on the ground. 

“Oh, my God,” you yell, grabbing Josie and holding her against you while you reach for Connor’s hand. 

Your only focus is getting them both out of the room. You know Scott can fight his own battles, and there’s nothing you can do to talk to Rafe when he’s like this. Looking like he knows this, Scott remains on the ground, leaving Rafe with nothing. He’s dead silent as he turns and faces you and the kids, looking away from you within the same second your eyes meet. 

“Josephine,” Rafe says in relief, crossing over to you and pulling her from you without a word or a look, “Hey, princess. My girl. I was so worried about you. Are you okay?” 

She nods, “Yes, Daddy. I just got scared.”

“I know you did, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to comfort you. Do you have any injuries?”

Josie doesn’t respond right away, and you take it as an opportunity. 

“She’s okay. I checked her when I got here.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker to you for only a moment. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look at you with anything besides pure admiration and love. This time, his glance is cold, calculated, and practically unrecognizable. 

“Let me take you home,” he says to her, “I’m gonna take you home, and nobody will ever take you anywhere again.”

“Except for you?” she asks. 

“Except for me,” he replies with a nod, “Let’s take Bubby home, too, okay?”

Your heart sinks as Rafe looks down at Connor, who is gripping his blanket tightly. When Rafe offers him a hand, Connor slips out of your grasp and takes it. 

You frown, “I can take—”

“Y/N, I’m so damn pissed right now. You need to stay with your brother, since that’s clearly where you want to be.”

He doesn’t even look at you as he says it, which is what makes the tears come. He’s too busy fussing over Josie’s hair and Connor’s runny nose. Rafe grabs him a tissue, then tosses it when Connor’s done. 

You look over at Scott and find him still seated on the floor, blood running down his chin from his nose, and he’s just staring at the kids. You’re sure he thinks this could be his final time seeing them in a long time, and you feel sick over that. 

“Rafe,” you choke out, “Please, just listen—”

“No,” he snaps, “Not to you. I’m taking them home.”

Connor whimpers, but when Rafe takes his hand again, he doesn’t object as his dad starts to lead him out of the room. Nobody says a word, and before you can blink, the three of them are gone. 

“Fuck,” Scott groans from the floor, “Y/N, I’m so—”

“Don’t,” you shake your head, turning back to him and observing his state before stepping over and offering him a hand, “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

     Scott gets released from the hospital a few hours later, and you drive him back to his apartment. Neither of you speak about anything other than the weather and your parents, because neither of you know what to say. You want to pretend like everything is fine. At least for now. 

You set him up on his couch with dinner, snacks, and a blanket, then let him know that you love him no matter what. In return, he offers you his room if you need a place to crash, and you almost burst into tears right then and there. 

      By the time you make it home, you know the kids will already be in bed. You debate taking the long way, but the fact that Connor is sick draws you back to the house so you can check on him. 

You pull your car into the garage and shut it off, then get out quickly before you can debate sitting inside for a while. You sigh and push open the door to the house, not knowing exactly what you’re walking into with Rafe.

The house is dark and silent. There’s no plate of dinner sitting on the counter for you like he usually leaves behind, and no light on in the living room to guide your path to bed. With a heavy heart, you head upstairs and peek your head into Connor’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep with a box of tissues and an empty medicine cup on his nightstand. 

Of course Rafe took care of everything. 

Quietly, you close his bedroom door and cross the hall over to Josie’s bedroom. When you peek in, you find her bed to be empty, but her stuffed animals are missing. Immediately, you know where she is. 

You hesitate at the door to your shared bedroom with Rafe for a brief moment, then push open the door and walk inside. Rafe’s bedside lamp is on, which allows you to see him lying on his side of the bed on his side, with Josie facing him. She’s tucked in his arms and sleeping soundly, but Rafe is wide awake and watching every single breath she draws. 

He never looks over at you. For a moment, you wonder if he even realizes you came into the room. When your lips part to speak, no sound comes out. You don’t know what to say or where to start.

“She could’ve been killed,” Rafe says evenly, like he’s stating a fact rather than getting emotional. His eyes don’t leave her for even a split second. 

“Rafe—” you start, but he sits up carefully. 

“Don’t wake her. I just got her to sleep.”

You silence yourself and stare at the two of them for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Rafe leans forward and brushes his lips over Josie’s forehead, then stands from the bed. He walks over to you, watching as you stand completely still in hopes that he’ll just take you into his arms and tell you that everything will be okay. Instead, he clenches his jaw and points to the door of the bedroom, silently telling you to walk through it. 

Rafe follows out of the room behind you and closes the door softly. You walk out to the couch and sit down, watching his movements extra carefully. He’s in sweatpants and a black tee shirt that you’ve always loved on him, but never told him so. 

You watch as he takes a deep breath, then places his hands on his hips. He doesn’t sit; he stands in front of you and keeps his eyes on anything but you. 

“Why was she with your brother?” 

His tone is harsh; like nothing you say in this moment could make sense to him. None of it will make any difference at all. 

“Um,” you shift, your voice shaky, “She— no, okay, the dance studio called and— wait—”

“Y/N,” Rafe stops you, exhaling loudly, “I just want you to explain why she was with your brother.”

You nod, “Okay. Sorry. So, I texted Scott and told him that we weren’t comfortable having the kids see him right now. He came over here to talk to me in person, thinking the kids weren’t home, and Josie saw him. So, naturally, she wouldn’t let him go, and he was just gonna have a snack with her and then leave. But, then, that dance studio called and said they had a spot for Josie this afternoon, and the spot was going to be given away if we couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to leave Connor, and Scott offered, and— Rafe, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, hands still proudly glued to his hips. His eyes close under the explanation, and the way his jaw is set tells you that, although it might make sense to him, he still isn’t happy or satisfied with the explanation. 

“You should have called me,” he says quietly, “I would’ve helped you work it out. I would’ve come home.”

“You were in a meeting, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Bother me, Y/N!” he exclaims, silencing you, “Bother me. Every time. If it means I don’t get the fucking call that one of my kids has been in a car accident with someone I didn’t even want them around in the first place. How could you let her go with Scott? After we discussed it and agreed that he was off limits, you just—”

“I didn’t see any other choice,” you speak up, “I didn’t want them to give the spot away.”

“Let them give the damn spot away, then!” he cries, shaking his head, “I told you, she’d be fine dancing anywhere, but you were so dead set on this one place, and that was fine with me until you shipped her off with your brother and he almost got our daughter killed—”

“Rafe, the accident wasn’t his fault,” you say, finally having the courage to stand, “He loves her. He would never put her at risk.”

He laughs then, and it’s deep, loud, sarcastic. Your eyes hit the floor and you swallow, wanting nothing more than his touch. Despite Rafe being the one causing the ache in your chest, you know he’s the only one who can fix it. He’s the only one who can ever fix it. 

“He did put her at risk, Y/N. Many times. Every time he showed up drunk, every time he stumbled down the stairs. It’s not a fucking coincidence that this happened when she was with him.”

You draw back, shaking your head, “That’s not fair. It could’ve happened to anyone. It could’ve been me—”

“Don’t,” he says immediately, stepping closer to you, “Don’t you dare go there. It wouldn’t have. It can’t.”

“Why not, Rafe?” you question, raising a brow, angry that he wants to blame everything on Scott when you don’t feel it’s his fault, “You’d blame Scott for everything if you could. If I had decided to take Josie to dance, it would’ve been me and the kids at that intersection—-”

“No!” he shouts, silencing you once again, “Stop it. It can’t happen again, Y/N. I almost lost you once, it cannot fucking happen again.”

Your lips glue shut as you realize what this is truly about for him. He runs a hand through his hair and sucks in a deep breath, letting the silence fall between the two of you. 

You know exactly how Rafe has internalized the accident you were in the night of Midsummers with Topper and Kelce. You know, because he’s told you. How he had nightmares for ages afterward, how he still will grip the steering wheel with two hands when he drives with you in the car at night. How he thinks about it every year at Midsummers, regardless of how much time has passed. 

Now, you can’t imagine what this will do to him. His Josie, his baby girl. Getting that call was not easy on him, you’re sure, and for a moment, you understand why he’s so angry with you for putting him in that situation. 

“Rafe,” you whisper, watching the way he looks up at you with vulnerability in his eyes, “I’m so, so sorry.”

He nods, like he really just needed to hear that. You take a step closer, but before you can reach for him, he steps back. 

“I need to sleep on it all. We can regroup in the morning.”

You swallow and nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You settle for tucking them behind your back, squirming under his gaze. 

“I’ll sleep upstairs. In case Connor needs anything,” you say. 

“Alright,” he nods, looking at you like he’s considering something. 

“Alright,” you repeat. 

He sighs, like he’s annoyed with himself, then steps forward and cups your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment before placing a kiss on your forehead forcefully, then drops you from his grip completely. 

You step forward out of habit, wanting his touch back. Instead of reaching for him, you just stare, knowing that he can tell what you want but refuses to give it to you. 

“I love you, Rafe,” you whisper to him. 

Even as angry as he is, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I love you, too.”

He nods, then turns around and leaves you like that. In the middle of the living room with his kiss still lingering on your forehead, and his words sitting in front of you, etching themselves into your heart so you never forget them. 

     When you wake in the morning, your first thought is of Connor. You don’t allow yourself to think of anything else, because it weighed on you all night, until you just couldn’t take it anymore. You cried in the guest room bed. Buried your face in a pillow and sobbed as you relived the day, your choices, and what became of them. You cry for Josie, for Rafe, for Scott. You cry because all you’d wanted to do was make the right choice for all of them, and you wound up only making the wrong ones. 

So, when you wake up with swollen under eyes and a red nose, the only thing you allow yourself to think about is Connor. 

He’s asleep when you enter his room, and when you feel his forehead, he feels the same as he had last night. You make a mental note to bring up more medicine for him, then take his temperature. 

Slipping back out of his room, you head downstairs. Your stomach twists as you hear Rafe talking to Josie in the kitchen, and the thought of facing him without knowing exactly how he feels today makes you anxious. 

As you walk in, you find Josie sitting on the counter and Rafe at the stove, where he flips a pancake in the pan. Josie giggles at something he said, and Rafe laughs back. His eyes catch on you, and for a brief moment, he smiles. Then, he drops it and looks down. 

“Hi, Mommy!” Josie cheers, “Daddy’s staying home today! He said I could, too.”

“He did, huh?” you smile at her, walking around the island to embrace her. 

“Thought I could, considering we’re not consulting each other on decisions anymore,” Rafe mutters. 

For Josie’s sake, you ignore him, but you stare at him while you do it. In no way can you tell Rafe how to feel or act, but you’re shocked at how openly petty he’s being. 

“Rafe—”

He cuts you off when he spins around with a plate in his hand, then gives Josie a wide smile. 

“Alright, princess, your breakfast is ready. Go sit at the table for me.”

He carries Josie’s plate over as you help her down from the counter, then watch her take off to her seat. Once she’s settled, Rafe comes back into the kitchen, but he doesn’t spare you a single glance. 

“How’d you sleep?” you try, stepping closer. 

“I didn’t,” he replies as he pours more pancake batter into the pan, “She did. All night.”

You swallow, “Good. So, listen, I was hoping—”

“I’m taking her to my parents’ today. We’ll swim and visit with Topper and Ellie. I figure Connor needs quiet, anyway.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod weakly, “Do you think we could talk later, though?”

“I don’t know.”

You frown and look at the floor, then glance over at the coffee pot. What’s usually filled halfway for you is now empty, and you know the pancakes he’s making on the stove are for himself. It makes your heart ache, to think that he’s so angry with you that he no longer wants to take care of you. 

“Rafe, I just… I want to fix it,” you practically beg, “Please.”

He drops the spatula on the counter before he turns to you, keeping his voice low on account of Josie. 

“This isn’t just something you can fix, Y/N. You hurt me. You prioritize your brother over our kids and you always have. Every time he stumbles in drunk, you always tell him it’s okay. It’s not. This time, you let him take our daughter and they got into an accident. She could’ve gotten really hurt. I’m not okay with that, and I never will be. Until you can get your priorities straight, I’m not interested in what you have to say.”

You step back from him and swallow the lump in your throat. Instead of just rolling over, you want to explain your thought process — have an actual conversation instead of bickering over the stove.

“He’s sick, Rafe. He’s an alcoholic. Guilting him every time he comes to us like that isn’t going to help him,” you reply, trying to stay strong despite the tears stinging your eyes, “And, how dare you accuse me of not prioritizing our family.  This is my top priority— my only priority. I made a judgment call, and I was wrong, I admit it. If I could go back and change it, I would.”

He shrugs, looking back down at the pancake, “But, you can’t.”

His left hand rests on the counter where he leans, supporting his body. You want to reach out and grab it, pull him into you and keep him close as you tell him that you’re sorry over and over again. You give in before you can help yourself, and when you cover his hand with your own, he doesn’t pull away immediately.

“Rafe, please,” you beg, but you’re not sure for what exactly. His eyes. His love. His forgiveness. 

“Don’t,” he says, pulling hand from under yours, “You really hurt me this time.”

Before you can say anything else, he plates his pancakes, then turns to face Josie. 

She grins when she sees him holding up his own plate, and he puts on his parent mask as he nears her. 

“Can we eat together, baby?” he asks enthusiastically, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was absolutely, positively, fine. 

     After Josie and Rafe leave, you bring Connor downstairs. You cuddle with him when he asks for it, you make him soup, give him more medicine, and watch Paw Patrol until he falls asleep on your lap. 

You, however, don’t nap. You stare at your phone screen, at a drafted text to Rafe as your thumb hovers over the send button. 

I hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Josie. I never would. The three of you are my priority. We can talk more when you’re ready, but I just want you to know that I’m thinking about what you said and I want to work this out with you more than anything. Please come home. 

You debate taking off the plea for him to come home, but you decide to leave it and press send. When you see that it went through, you put your phone down and take a deep breath, then leave your eyes glued to the screen so you can see the second he responds. 

When your phone does light up again, you pounce on it. You frown when you see Maddie’s name at the top of the new text, asking you why Rafe canceled the dinner plans that you two had with Maddie and Kelce tonight — which you’d completely forgotten about. 

You reply quickly and tell her that Connor is sick, and debate asking her if she can talk on the phone so you can get advice. However, you decide against it and fire off your excuse just as Rafe’s response comes in. 

We will pick up dinner and be there soon. How’s Connor? 

You smile, because something about this feels like progress. Silently, you look down to the sleeping boy, running your hand through his hair because you just can’t help yourself. 

He’s good. Sleeping off the fever, I hope. Thank you for getting dinner!

He won’t respond to that and you know it, but you don’t care. At least he gave you one response. 

     Connor wakes just before Josie and Rafe get home, and with a perfect temperature, he says he wants to stay downstairs for dinner. You nod and give him a hug, and when you hear the garage door open, you wave him up and into the kitchen. 

“Mommy!” Josie shouts when she enters the house, “Look, Daddy got me a princess sticker!”

She holds it up to you proudly as you hug her tight, “Oh, I love it, Jo.”

She beams and moves over to show it to Connor as Rafe walks in. He holds a pizza in his left hand and Josie’s bag in his right. You don’t miss the name on the pizza box — your favorite place, meaning he had to drive fifteen extra minutes each way to get it instead of getting the easy, shitty pizza down the street. 

“You got Lighthouse,” you say, biting your lip to hide a smile as you acknowledge his drive to the pizza place.

“Yeah, I—” he stops himself and closes his eyes, then shakes his head before repeating, “Yeah.”

You take a daring step forward, “Thank you.”

He nods once, and when you see him swallow down his impulse to reach for you, to hug you and kiss you and ask about your day, he looks over to the kids. 

“Hey, Connor. How are you feeling, buddy?”

Rafe steps past you to get to him, and the pizza you’d just been swooning over suddenly doesn’t seem as appetizing. Regardless, you get plates out and divide up slices while Rafe works behind you to get everyone drinks. He pours juice out for the kids and tells them to sit at the table, then gets a beer for himself. He doesn’t ask you what you want because he already knows, and he sets the glass of white wine at your place setting.

Dinner is quiet, but you pretend it’s only because Josie is tired from swimming all day and Connor isn’t feeling well. Everything feels off because you and Rafe didn’t work today — you told Rose that Connor was sick — and Josie didn’t go to school. It feels like it should be a weekend, but it’s not. 

You want to ask Rafe if he plans on going back to work tomorrow. If he wants to sleep next to you tonight, because you want to sleep next to him. You want to ask him everything, anything, just to get him to look at you. 

After dinner, Rafe volunteers himself to do bath and bedtime, which leaves you downstairs to clean up the small mess from the meal. As you clean, you spot a tub of ice cream in the freezer and pull it out, smiling to yourself at your little idea. 

     When Rafe comes back downstairs, he doesn’t look for you. Instead, he makes his way into your shared bedroom, already peeling off his shirt in preparation for a shower when he freezes. You’re sitting on his side of the bed with two small bowls of ice cream and that pout on your lips that you know he loves. He visibly softens at the sight, and when you hold up the bowl, his jaw ticks. 

“You’re something else,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, as he crosses the room shirtless. 

You give him a small smile as he plants himself beside you and accepts the bowl. His knee touches yours, and you feel giddy inside when he doesn’t pull himself away. 

“I’m trying, Rafe,” you whisper as he takes a bite, staring down at the bowl instead of you, “I’m trying to figure out what to do. Because I miss you. And I know I made a mistake. But I don’t want to cut my brother off in the process of working this out. He’s doing better, and I’m afraid that would trigger him into a relapse, or something.”

“I get that,” he murmurs. 

“So, let’s talk about it. All three of us. Let’s set clear boundaries and we can even make a timeline—”

“Y/N,” Rafe practically laughs, “I already did that with you. I told you that I wasn’t ready. I set my boundary, and you crossed it.”

You swallow, “I know, but I think it will help if Scott is clued in, too. That way, wires don’t get crossed, and we can all—”

“We can all what?” he scoffs, standing up, “Live happily ever after? Scott can worm his way back into our kids’ lives? I cave on a lot of shit for you, Y/N, but this is not something you can ask me to do.”

“Rafe, I’m not asking you to change how you feel,” you reply, your voice small and pleading, as if silently begging him to sit back down with you, “Please, I’m not. I’m just trying to make everyone happy.”

He shakes his head and lets his eyes close, rolling them behind his lids, “That’s the problem with you. You’re always so focused on how everyone else feels. You’re so afraid to tell Scott ‘no’ because you’re afraid you’ll be responsible for a relapse if you do. You know what, Y/N? You’re allowed to be selfish. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself and our children. Scott is a grown ass man, and his choices are his own. You baby the fuck out of him, and it needs to stop.”

You digest Rafe’s words, letting them hang in the air between the two of you. On one hand, you want to fight back. You want to tell him that Scott is your family, and you’re just trying to help. On the other hand, you see how trying to help turned into Josie being in an accident. Then, you hear Rafe’s words in your head once more. 

I cave on a lot of shit for you. 

He does, and you know it. With a deep breath, you nod your head, willing to sacrifice for him the way he always does for you — without a second thought. 

“Okay,” you whisper, watching his eyes dart to you, “Alright. I’ll take space. I’ll work on it. Whatever is best for you and the kids, I will do that.”

Rafe stares at you like that’s the last thing he expected you to say. His hands meet his hips and he assesses you from head to toe before swallowing. 

“Maybe you should sleep on that decision,” he says carefully. 

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging in your eyes. He watches you carefully as you stand up and step over to him, then place a gentle hand on his chest. You can feel his heart racing, and you want to smile at the thought of still being able to do that to him after all this time. 

“I don’t need to. You’re right, I let people walk all over me because I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But, our marriage is my priority, and our children are my priority, and I need to do better. I’m sorry, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes close when your lips ghost over his cheek. His fists ball at his sides as he fights the urge to pull you in, to forget it all and just let his body take over. You move down and kiss along his jawline, then back up to his mouth. You let your lips hover for a moment, giving him time to object, before you lean closer. 

“Y/N,” he whispers at the very last second, “You can’t just tell me what I want to hear because we’re in a fight. You need to figure this shit out for yourself.”

“Rafe,” you sigh, but he shakes his head. 

“I need some time, too. This really rattled me, and I need to figure out how I want to proceed.”

You furrow your brows, “How you want to proceed? Like, with us?”

You fear the answer more than anything, but you need to hear it. 

“With everything,” he replies, “I just… I need sleep. So do you.”

You nod but don’t say a word, standing there and thinking about the melting ice cream that sits on your bed. 

Rafe takes a deep breath and watches as you avoid his eyes, then sighs and steps forward. You think he might reach out to touch you, grab you, kiss you, anything. Instead, he picks up his pillow from his side of the bed and steps back, offering you half a smile. 

“I’ll be on the couch,” he mumbles, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you reply. 

He picks up the two ice cream bowls and carries them to the door, turning back and staring at the scene in front of him for a moment. You, still standing on his side of the bed, where you know you’ll sleep tonight. 

“Love you,” he whispers. 

“Love you, too.”

He nods and then closes the door behind him. Only then do you fall into his side of the bed and inhale his scent on the sheets, allowing your tears to fall right where you lay. You don’t grab a pillow, you don’t cover yourself with a blanket. You just cry until your body grows so tired that it forces you to sleep, with swollen eyes and a regretful heart. 

     You jolt awake to the sound of the doorknob to your bedroom rattling up and down a few times, which immediately has you sitting up in bed. Your first thought is that it’s Connor trying to get in because he’s sick, and your heart sinks at the thought of him having gotten worse. 

Which is why, when Rafe comes rushing into the room, your eyes grow wide. He’s shirtless and his hair is a mess, but more than that, he looks completely terrified. Your heart races as he starts over to you at a fast pace, lips parted like he’s trying to speak, but can’t. 

“Rafe, what is it?” you ask softly. 

His breaths are shallow and jagged, and when he tries to inhale, it seems like he can’t. You scoot closer to the edge of the bed, and when he rounds the mattress and gets to you, he sinks to his knees in front of you. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers in relief, beginning to check you from top to bottom with his eyes and hands, “Fuck, thank God.”

His palms grip your forearms and he flips them over to check for any sort of marking or injury, then moves down your body to your legs. He runs his hands over every square inch of your skin, and you let him. 

“Of course I’m okay,” you reply, grabbing one of his hands in yours, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He lets out a long breath, then shakes his head, but his hands never leave you. He grips you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go for even a moment. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he rushes, “Just a bad dream, I guess. Felt real.”

You tense, “Are you having nightmares again?”

He shrugs, but when you cup his cheek with your free hand, he nods. 

“Yeah,” he admits shyly, “I, um, I know we’re in a weird place right now, but—”

“Come to bed,” you demand, tugging him in. 

He nods, as if that’s exactly what he wanted you to say. You scoot over just enough for him to crawl onto the mattress, then bury yourself in him the moment he’s laying flat. His arms wrap around you and your head presses against his heart; this time racing for a different reason. 

Just as you settle and the room falls silent, you debate what to say. If you should ask any questions or just let him be. Rafe speaks, silencing your mind. 

“Y/N,” he whispers into the darkness, “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me,” you encourage, squeezing him slightly. 

He takes a long moment to start, but when he does, you can tell by the shakiness in his voice that he’s emotional.

“I think part of the reason I got so upset with you was because I was very aware of the fact that it could’ve been the three of you at that intersection. Even though you let Scott take her against my wishes, you still made the right choice, somehow. Because, I swear, if I had gotten a call that all of you were at the hospital, I think I would’ve had a heart attack right then and there in my office.”

“Rafe,” you whine, cuddling closer. 

He shakes his head, “Let me finish, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“I’m terrified that something will happen one day. That I won’t be there to protect you, or stop it, or fix it, and this whole thing really brought that fear out of me. I know that I seem overprotective with the kids, especially with Scott, but I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to them. To you. You’re my entire world, Y/N. I just need you to understand that.”

“I do understand that,” you answer, heart hammering in your chest, “But, we also can’t live our lives in fear of what could happen. All we can do is take precautions and make informed decisions together. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Rafe. I would never, ever do that on purpose. I love you too much to even consider it.”

He swallows roughly, “I know, sweetheart.”

You want to say more, to spill your guts and tell him every thought you’ve had for the past twenty four hours. Instead, you cuddle deeper into him and inhale his scent, then kiss his cheek. 

“You should sleep, handsome,” you whisper against his skin, “I’m right here, and I’m okay. We’ll work it out in the morning.”

He nods, then presses a kiss into your hair, “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” you reply, “That means you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles lightly, “Good.”

You smile against him, then kiss his cheek once more before you resign to laying your head on his chest. Both of you are asleep in seconds, surrounded in the warmth and love of the other. 

     When you wake up in the morning, your hands are both tangled in Rafe’s. You feel his smooth palms in yours and you smile before you even open your eyes to find him. When you do, he’s laying across from you, already wide awake. When his eyes meet yours, his lips tip up in a smile. 

"What are you staring at?” you ask teasingly, shifting closer. 

“My wife,” he replies in that morning voice that always seems to get you, “My beautiful, infuriating wife.”

You laugh, even though it shouldn’t be funny. He smiles a real smile then, and you bask in it. Having not seen it in what feels like forever, you want to keep it there for the rest of your life. 

“Rafe,” you whisper. “I—”

“I know,” he stops you, tugging you closer, “I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Really?” you ask hopefully. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “Can you just promise that you’ll call me the next time you don’t know what to do? No matter what?”

You nod, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, then takes a breath before saying, “Now, about your brother.”

“I still want him in my life, Rafe. But, I’ll meet up with him and really discuss boundaries and everything. I’ll take the house key from him. I will do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, but I won’t cut him out.”

He nods, “I’m not asking you to cut him out, baby. Not at all. You just need to be more firm with him. You know Scott, you give him an inch, he takes a mile.”

“I know,” you reply, dropping your shoulders at the evident quality your brother possesses, “I’ll work on being more assertive with my boundaries when it comes to him.”

“Good. You deserve to be appreciated and respected. You’re not a doormat for your brother and his issues.”

You know Rafe’s right, but you’re not ready to admit that that might just be what Scott has been doing to you. That he knows you’ll go easy on him, so he comes to you first. You haven’t wanted to see it, so you don’t. 

“So, we’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip. 

He stares at you for a moment, and you notice how his look of admiration has returned. You smile as he begins to nod, then squeeze his hand. 

“We’re okay,” he replies, “Sorry if I scared you last night.”

“You did. Do you think our fight brought it on?” 

He shrugs, “The fight. Josie being in the accident. I’m sure it will go away in the next few nights, as I calm down.”

You nod in understanding, then place a few gentle pecks onto his bare chest. 

“If there’s anything I can do, tell me,” you murmur, “You’re never alone.”

“Thank you, baby.”

As much as you want to stay and bask in his body heat, you know you should get up to check on Connor and take him more medicine. Rafe can feel you tense as you prepare to move, and his grip tightens. 

“Rafe—”

“He’s fine,” Rafe bluffs, “Don’t get up.”

“I have to.”

He laughs gruffly, then releases you. Reluctantly, you climb from the bed in your tank top and short shorts, eliciting a groan from Rafe where he lays. Without being able to contain himself, it seems, he reaches over and swats your backside as you escape from the bed, earning a jaw drop from you. 

“Sorry,” he grins mischievously. 

“Sure you are,” you mutter, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am, sweetheart. I remind myself every day.”

You know he’s being his silly self, but the words bring butterflies to your stomach. You grin and turn back to look at him as you walk toward your bedroom door, taking a mental picture of him laying in bed with his shirt off and his hair messy. He’s practically begging you to come back to him, and for a moment, you strongly consider it. 

“Don’t move,” you command, “I’ll be back in ten.”

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.”

You hurry from the room and up the stairs, already missing Rafe’s heat and the comfort of your bed with him in it. You’re already making plans for when you return to your bedroom, because although fighting with Rafe is one of the worst things in your entire world, making up is your absolute favorite.

*i no longer have a tag list! follow @mackupdates for updates! thank you for reading <3

[deathnguts]

Spare some rabastan lestrange for the needy pls🤲 (i’m the needy and i’d like to know what you think about his dynamic with his brothers)

Sigh, fine I’ll guess I’ll spare some pennies. Thank you for the ask! This is kinda scatter brained and kinda focused on Rodolphus to like parallel/paint how the brothers are together with they are separate and yeah I dunno I threw up

So usually I internalize whatever @florsial (formal apology to you pookie, Im about to act out of line 🫶) says about Rabastan because we tend to agree on things surrounding him but I think we definitely view Rodolphus differently. Which is fine, he barely exists as a character and I think it’s just representative of how we fundamentally view sibling relationships differently. Like I don’t know what it is with me, but I feel the need ti make every sibling relationship I write for either fanfiction or my own work complicated as hell.

So Rodolphus Lestrange. I think he’s a lot like Orion Black. Like he probably even looked up to him kind of when he grew up, (which is kinda funny because Rodolphus probably isn’t much younger than him if at all considering my headcanon that both walburga and Orion were young when they had both their children to kind of get it out of the way) and you can see that in like a lot of how he just is. Hes ‘stoic’ but actually just doesn’t feel a lot of emotions and doesn’t pretend he does, he’s probably like a hair away from being an alcoholic but he doesn’t drink because he knows that (unlike Orion who is very much an alcoholic), hes antisocial and physically annoyed around people because he doesn’t understand why they are as ‘efficient’ as he is and looks down on all of them.

He’s very work oriented, so much so that he doesn’t really have a life outside of it at all. He’s always been the twin the family knew to count on and he always liked having the title so he never had a rebellious stage or any real anger towards his expectations beyond being tired at the end of a particularly grueling work day. I think the only work hes expected to do that he actively doesn’t work towards doing is producing heirs. He doesn’t like kids, he thinks they’re loud and messy and they get in the way of a schedule. It’s like the only thing him and Bellatrix agree on since she also wants nothing to do with kids. (Also quick note on their marriage, I think they pretty much ignore each other and that’s their idea of what they’ll be like forever. When in public together they put on the ‘better than you’ couple mask but in every other scenario they live completely separate lives and actively avoid each other or they’ll find something to fight about.) like the general vibe I could sum him up with is, yes he’s Rabastan’s twin, but everyone who’s ever talked with him assumes he’s like a decade older and just aged well.

So to contrast that with Rabastan, who was never really expected to be anything and never proved anyone wrong, he’s the sort of kid his mother defends no matter what but he father actively tries to forget about. The exact sort Rodolphus looks down on. He can’t help it’s his brother, he’s still below him. And that would be easier to accept if Rabastan stopped proving it over and over. He had to act out in school, he had to move where mother couldn’t find at seventeen, he had to preach to the family that they were ‘immoral’ or whatever, and then he had to preach it to a child, and then he had to marry the child. Like, Rodolphus isn’t a good man by many means, but his lack of feeling or empathy towards people gives him a more head on view of them. And his head on view of his brother is that he’s useless, dramatic, and so desperate to be anything he’ll lie to a little girl to get her to view him that way. And not to say Rodolphus is any better since he witnessed first hand what his brother was doing, he literally walked in on the two hiding away to make out in a corner when regulus was still fifteen and his brother was the same age as himself and just turned back around and never mentioned it to anyone. A truly good person probably would’ve done something. Good thing that’s not what he’s trying to be.

(Also unrelated but I wanna circle back to a point @florsial has that I love about how Rabastan and Regulus are a couple who tries to nuclear and domestic but fails, I feel like that’s a joke on its own especially in this context. The idea that Rodolphus is the nuclear working man so Rabastan must parallel him by being a family man, he just isn’t. Yes he’s closer with his wife than his brother is, and yes that could be something he has over Rodolphus but pretty much no one in their family is proud of Rabastan for his teenage wife and it’s not like their perfect or anything.)

Rodolphus has probably told Rabastan he thinks this only once since he’s usually content to be quiet about it. He probably broke and yelled about how Rabastan will never be anything ro even get his shit together and it won’t matter because no one has hope he will and it hurts because Rodolphus was never given that leeway and it must be fucking nice to have. Rabastan probably doubles back with how much it must be nice for anyone to give a shit about you, to not only exoect things from you but love you even more when you deliver. They probably kept fighting until Rodolphus, as always, gets tired and shuts it down and goes home.

Because even a man who feels nothing has breaking points, especially when Rabastan keeps fucking pushing for one. And that was their relationship a lot of their life, I think. Rabastan desperately wanting to be seen and Rodolphus who is willingly blind. When they were younger that was ok, little kids before hogwarts just played together until father came to take Rodolphus away, growing boys at hogwarts who slowly drift apart when one doubles down on academics and the other found there’s more to do (and not for lack of desperate trying on the seconds behalf.) and then they’re grown up and neither can place what really happened. They’re sure they used to love each other, at least they think so. And they don’t know what happened, because something must have happened. Right?

Yeah I dunno it’s hard to continuously explain but I think what’s tragic about them is that it’s needless. Rabastan could try ti be better and it would not only help his relationships but himself, Rodolphus could try ti be more and he same would happen to him. If either brother were better at being human then they would be better at loving each other. But they’re not, so they can’t.

[yokohamapound]

HIHIHI

Can I request Chuuya and kunikida with a s/o who likes to braid or style their hair??🤭 I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT SM HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY(or night!!)

How did you know long-haired pretty boys are my weakness? :D

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, brushy-brushy

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida’s got an interesting style of hair, considering the amount of time and effort he puts into making sure he looks neat and clean all the time. You would think a long underside to his hair would be impractical, but he makes it work. 

I don’t think it’s in his list of attributes for an ideal spouse to enjoy brushing and styling his hair for him, but he was certainly pleasantly surprised the first time you approached him with a brush and a glint in your eye.

He’s so tall he has to sit on a chair while you stand behind him. He sits down patiently, resting his hands on his knees. Kunikida looks almost meditative as you tug the hairtie free and spread his hair across his shoulders. 

Kunikida closes his eyes as you work the comb through his hair, running your fingers after it. Not only does it feel good, it manages to slow his ever-marching thoughts down to a stroll.

He might be in constant pursuit of his ideals, but he knows when to stop and appreciate a moment. You taking time out of your day to lavish a little bit of care on him is definitely worth savouring. 

Because most of his hair is short, you’ll be somewhat limited in what you can do with it. You can mostly braid the long strands or put them in a ponytail, but he will dutifully wear whatever style you choose for him that day.

I’m afraid he may object to wearing hairclips. 

He likes those springy, phone-cord ties since they don’t pull on his hair, and the poor, gullible fool has worn a scrunchie to the office at your behest a few times. Dazai was most amused. 

Kunikida: “Shows what you know, Dazai. It decreases the risk of traction baldness in men.”

Dazai: “It also makes you look totally rad!” 

Nakahara Chuuya

Okay, you only need to take one look at Chuuya to realise he’s fussy about his hair. His style is…complicated, to say the least. As with the rest of his style, he’s definitely cultivated it to go along with his look. 

He puts up a couple of token complaints the first time you start trying to brush his hair, but it doesn’t take him long to realise he enjoys it. The feeling of your fingers running across his scalp is damn near enough to send him falling asleep. 

Chuuya does feel a little twitchy about you sitting behind him. Not because he doesn’t trust you—it’s those hard-earned street rat/mafioso instincts, but he gets over it. 

Sorry, you won’t be putting any cute bobbles or barrettes in his hair, but you might get away with a couple of black bobby pins here and there. He might not even notice if they’re round the back. 

He used to tie his hair in a little ponytail at the nape of his neck but I’m happy to tell you he also looks great with a high ponytail. Although he does wonder why so many people are staring at his neck now—is his choker crooked? Sadly, he won’t wear it for long because it interferes with his hat. 

Yeah, he’ll let you braid the long bit that falls over his shoulder, and he’ll punch the lights out of anyone who has anything to say about it. 

Expect lots of sarcastic comments, though.

“What am, your stylin’ head?”

“If you pull it, I’m smackin’ your ass with the brush, dollface.”

[afterthefeast]

ok while i may be a self-professed hater i do actually really want this season of doctor who to be good but i’m just not feeling it. i liked boom more than the first two, but i have this overall sense that it’s all a bit…empty?? ncuti gatwa has a great energy as the doctor, his acting is great but it’s not backed up by the writing. worldbuilding is a complicated topic in doctor who given that it basically amounts to “introduce a cool new concept every week”, but for all of new who at least the universe has felt incredibly lived in. like there’s always been the impression that all of these lives are going on around the doctor regardless of them and that just serves to underline their mythos as a wayward traveler. the planets visited have felt connected to a wider universe even if it’s only through rtd’s kitchen sink realism or moffat’s continuity boners. aesthetically as well they’ve always been kinda grimy or lived-in. whereas now i feel like there’s this sense that these episodes are just happening in their own little bubble, divorced from any wider context or universe, and it makes them feel empty. i can’t put my finger on why this is, though i think the conscious effort to reboot the show is very much responsible by sort of…severing ties to any previous context. and i do think the disney production means aesthetically this feels too polished. also the writing generally has felt shallow; doctor who for the sake of doctor who rather than telling a story for its own sake.

also i very much think the fifteen/ruby dynamic has been very rushed — they’re cute but there’s no conflict and by not showing us that six month time skip we’re being asked to believe in a friendship that for us has only been around for a few weeks. comparing it to previous companion dynamics rose & nine got on well but there was a period of initial awkwardness and distance that made their later friendship the sweeter; martha & ten obviously had a whole lot of interpersonal juice based on his rose hangups; ten & donna had their whole vitriolic initial meeting; amy & eleven had SO much shit etc etc. whereas ruby & fifteen are just omg besties already with no history to back it up. also i think ruby’s a bit flat — i know she’s looking for her mum but it’s hard to really put a finger on her personality beyond Nice Girl.

idk this is all just mindless venting, there’s a fair amount to like with these episodes and i’m hoping that by bringing us back to wales and having some ruby focus (hopefully) next ep will turn it round. but so far these episodes just feel a bit shallow and nothingburger to me and it’s disappointing.

[bobbile-blog]

Okay so my addition to the extensive list of “Tiny world building things that Arknights consistently gets really right” is not having binary, two-sided conflicts.

Like, yeah, okay. Everyone knows that having a multi-sided conflict is generally more realistic and makes for a better allegory and helps motives seem more real or whatever, sure. But that’s haaaard, and it takes forever to world-build and set up stuff that you’ll probably never use again anyway, and do we really need hyper-realism for this one character’s side plot anyway? It’s fine if we don’t have that here, right? This sort of world-building, while good, is usually not worth the effort you put into it because not all conflicts are important enough to justify that level of detail.

To pull an example from another mobile game, Honkai Impact does this in a perfectly serviceable way. While the story as a whole has a number of factions that interact with each other, there’s usually only one faction in the role of “major antagonist” and which faction it is shifts over the course of the story. You’ll sometimes get more than two groups at play, but that’s usually only used to set up the next major antagonist and they’re rarely on even footing and given equal focus. And that comes out fine! It works great for the pacing of the story and serves its purpose perfectly well.

With Arknights, however, they have consistently refused to write stories that are just a two-sided A versus B conflict. From way back in Grani and the Knight’s Treasure up to the political clusterfuck of the more recent story chapters, Hypergryph just doesn’t write stories that are black-and-white protagonist-antagonist. Off the top of my head, the closest we get to that is in stories like Lingering Echoes and Guide Ahead where a single character disrupts a protagonist-antagonist plot. The two stories share a lot in common, actually - there’s a two-sided protagonist-antagonist story that is disrupted by a protagonist-aligned figure, Czerny in the former and Fiametta in the latter, that refuses to be bound by the said simple conflict. Both stories are also complicated by B-plots that don’t have nearly as simple resolutions, which are tied closely enough into the A-plot to make it more complicated.

All of the events are like this - as I write this I’m looking back through the event records for something I’ve missed because there’s no way they’ve been that consistent with this, right? But they have, and it’s staggering how consistent they are with it. There are all sorts of factions lying around that just get picked up again on the whims of the writers (like AUS or the Browntails), and it does wonders for making the world feel more complex and more alive.

[nerdieforpedro]

Let me tease you Angel

Chapter Three of Come away with me Angel

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: 2525

Summary: Moving in goes smoothly - sort of. Benny and Diana are pushing each other’s buttons until a joke becomes a promise that they’re both looking forward to keeping.

Warnings: Awkward conversations, Benny being a menace several times (not sorry), mild violence, one instance of sexual harassment, alcohol mention, the innuendo is strong, Diana is a menace too, mild sexual content, one hair pull, tossing a body (sounds worse than it is), Benny being possessive?

Notes: I finally had some inspo for Benny! 🤗 Now I’ll need some for chapter four 👀 You’ll need to help me out on this one.

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Moving Diana into Benny’s home didn’t take long at all, a couple hours. They ate pizza and laughed about the number of stuffed animals she had. The evening brought a complication that Diana didn’t plan on. She had been vaguely aware that Benny had three bedrooms, one of them had been turned into an office. Benny balked at her assertion that she couldn’t picture him sitting down long enough to be in an office. He put her bags with her clothes in the bedroom next to his. Diana insisted she could sleep in the office and that would be better. Benny scoffed and told her she was being ridiculous while he set the very box she was concerned about on her new bed in the guest room.

“What did you want for dinner? Pizza, wings or burgers?” He asks as Diana’s eyes dart from him to her last box.

“Pizza, coke, and garlic cheese sticks please.” She answers and sits down on the bed in front of the box. Maybe if she blocks it from his view she’ll feel slightly better about it. Not that he can see through a cardboard box anyway. Is she paranoid? Yes and for no reason because Benny is not one to judge. He’d likely be encouraging about it.

“Alright which movie do you wanna watch?” Benny follows her lead and plops down on the bed next to her.

“Which ones do you have?” She knows, she might be trying to annoy him into leaving. But this is Benjamin Miller, she’s playing a losing game.

“Depends on what you’re in the mood for Angel.” If they were playing a game, she would have lost at that moment. He’d just given her a response. Basic one at that but he did not need to wipe his forehead with his shirt then. Sure he was sweaty, but it makes it worse. And increases her awareness of what she’d be using the box behind her for.

“Hallmark movie.” Least sexy option please. Diana needs some semblance of sanity. Like she isn’t drooling over her friend who’s giving her a place to stay.

“Huh, didn’t expect that one. I’ll have to stream that one. You cool with me logging into your Amazon account?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” Finally, he’s standing up and walking out of the room. She might be able to calm down now. “And Benny, thanks. For everything. I-It means a lot.” He smiles and walks back in the room, scooping her up in a hug. Diana places her arms on his back and lays her head on her chest. She really is grateful, but this might be one of the best things she’s done and also one of the stupidest. It’s the first day and she feels like this. Maybe she just needed to get laid somewhere to to the edge off? But it’s still not Benny, her Benny. Not that he’s really hers.

“You know I’d do anything for ya Diana.” A lock of his hair fell out of his loose bun that he tied back to keep his vision clear while moving. Benny’s lips kissed her forehead and Diana sighed. “I’ll see you out in the living room for the movie sweet girl.” Her new tall muscular roommate left her standing in front of her bed. She watched as he walked out, observing the efforts of his daily workouts bouncing with each step that he took. Her eyes landed on her box which she promptly stuck under her bed and crossed her arms.

“It will have to be when he’s working out.” Her hand touched her forehead where his lips had been. “Did he have to give me a new nickname? Lord have mercy…”

Benjamin peeked around the corner at his dear friend and watched as she stored one box she seemed especially focused on. He had an inkling what might be in there if she was that protective over it. He’d give it a little time or try to. Benny can’t pounce on the woman yet.

Benny to his credit, tried to give it a month. He made it Fourteen days before it happened.

He didn’t want to rush her, just kept up with the movie nights fixed breakfast and had Diana help with dinner. Miller believes that he showed great restraint in not plopping his Angel on the counter and eating her for dinner instead.

Even when she just wore that simple off-white dress for a casual Friday at the end of the second week. They had finished breakfast and were cleaning up; Benny would take Diana’s work bag out to her car before going on a morning run.

She thanked him as always for making breakfast and being so sweet. He appreciates her calling him sweet, but he’d rather make her late for work and sweaty. Recently, Diana was giving Benny side hugs that he wasn’t a fan of, but this morning, he pulled her into a tight one at her open driver’s side door. Leaning his back against the car, the MMA fighter pulled her toward his chest, making sure she was flush with him. “No getting away from me today sweet girl. I’m getting a proper hug and send off from you today.” Hearing her giggle, he knew she wasn’t taking him seriously. She’d have something to think about today.

“Benny you’re such a goof. I need to leave or else I’ll be late.” She released a soft whine, it was unintentional by the look on her face. He meant his smirk. Benny kissed her cheek first before leaning into her ear. His large hands trailed down her spine and pressed her soft body into his further. He felt them, the small pebbles among her plush mounds.

“Not a goof Angel, more like a tease baby.” His lips touched the exposed skin of her shoulder, then her neck, making his words wet on her skin. “Diana you have no idea how badly I want to make you late. Hell, call out sick, but I know you’d be cross with me.” He pulled his head back to stand up and kiss her forehead before letting her go. Her hand found the ends of his sun-kissed brown hair and twirled them, biting down on her lips.

“Benjamin Miller. Go ahead on your run and I’ll be front and center for your match tonight.” Diana got in the car and put on her seatbelt quickly looking up at her dear friend. He’s already leaned over her window, so his face is nearly inside. Benny enjoys running shirtless since it’s summer and warm. Diana would never tell him what to wear or to put on more clothes. On one hand she’s puzzled that he’s choosing today, the day of his match to make a move. But she’s also pleased that she didn’t have to do it. She’d not great at making the initial move, but maybe she had been temping him a bit with all the shorts, casual dresses where she didn’t normally wear them and touching him during movie night and while cooking in the kitchen. Diana had been the one to joke that Benny should see her off, she was surprised that he did and seemed happy to do so.

“Win or lose tonight, Diana, I get to tease you when we get home. That alright?” Hitting the top of her car roof twice, he took a step back and that was her signal to drive off, but she didn’t yet.

“Benny Miller you are so much damn trouble.” Diana whistled and drove off, hoping that she might be able to dry out before she gets to work. He’s gotten her worked up and imagining how he might in fact tease her after his match. The thoughts followed her around the office the entire day and prompted her to slip on a deep violet body on dress that flared out at the bottom, she wore brick red lipstick and wore matching red heels. They would be hard to stand in during the match, but she wanted to look a bit different than what Benny has seen her in before. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get a a seat up front. Diana was able to grab a place three rows back.

Frankie, Pope and Will didn’t see her, it wasn’t like her to miss a match of his. They called her and she answered but it was too loud ringside, so she texted them.

Diana: Hey, I’m here. I wasn’t able to get a seat closer. I’m a few rows back. Are there any open seats near you guys?

Frankie: Sorry no. But you’re okay though right? Some of the guys here can be rowdy when drunk.

Diana: I’ll be fine. I’m just mad I can’t see what’s going on. How is Benny doing?

Will: He’s taken some hits but getting some licks in. You sure you’re all right. One of us can come grab you.

Pope: We’ll dare some asshole to say something.

Diana: Ya’ll are sweet but I’m ok. Just keep me updated on the match.

Diana didn’t want them to worry about her she was okay for now. She was able to hear the announcements for the start and end of each round and her phone kept going off with updates. A man next to her finished his latest beer and and tapped her on the shoulder, “Doll, you got fries to go with that shake? I’ve seen you ‘round. Red trunks is winning but he’ll be no good to you tonight, but I will.” Shrugging his touch off, she shook her head and stepped back, bumping the woman next to her by mistake. The woman stared at Diana, and she apologized to her, whispering, “Are you alright? He isn’t nothing you, is he?” Diana was about to speak but the drunkard spoke first, “Ain’t none of your business. Stay out of it. I’m talkin’ to her.”

There was a loud roar from the crowd and a flourish of activity started. Diana’s phone went off with yelling emojis, balloons and yelling. Benny had won! She was sorry to have not been able to see him win. “There will be next time.” Muttering to herself, she went to move toward the ring since people were heading to the back but a sweaty hand grabbed her forearm.

“Now hold ur horses doll. We didn’t finish talking.” Diana pulls her arm down and gets out of his grip easily but stumbles, her feet partially numb from wearing the heels all night.

“Keep the hell off of me asshole.” Diana cursed and continued toward Benny and the crew. The man followed her and all the fighter saw was a man keeping after his Diana. Benny rose from leaning against the side of the ring and hit the man square in the nose, breaking it. Will and the others were barely able keep the man from hitting the concrete floor, concerned it might be another injury.

“Diana! Angel are you alright? What the fuck was that?” The younger Miller demanded to know, he had a blood lip and a bruised abdomen with cuts on his hands and despite the pain of moving so much, he pulled Diana’s soft body against his and she felt right in his arms.

“I’m fine Benny. You won right? I wasn’t able to see most of it. I was in the third row back. Congratulations!” Tipping on her toes, her lips connected with his briefly before she rocked back. The smile on her face was bright, she was proud of him. Benny always trained so hard for his matches and in between. He had results and another win, the widened eyes he had on his face did not mask the surprise of his expression.

“I see you’re the one teasing the hell out of me Di. I see why he was following you. I’m going to hold a handful of you on the way home. Be right back.” Benny kisses her cheek before making a quick trip to the locker room to get his stuff and head home. Upon his return, he noted her hand on her hips, “Now before you say anything about your car, I’ll take you to work tomorrow and get your car back home. See you later gentlemen!” Diana mutters how much trouble Benny continues to be as they leave, and the rest of guys are wondering when the shift in their relationship happened. Will suggested things may have changed since Diana’s staying with Benny. Frankie and Pope nodded and figured it would be a matter of time given that information. The guys wonder if things will be alright and they collectively decide to stay out of it.

Opening the door for her while still shirtless and tossing his gym bag in the back seat of his jeep, Benny gives Diana a hand with stepping up into the vehicle. He clicks the seat belt for her and rests his head, on her thigh, “Wore this dress for me did you Angel?” A finger pokes her ankle and runs up her calf. Cupping his large hand around it so the meat of her leg is in his palm, he squeezes, then shakes it a little.

“I did Benjamin. You’re not the only one who’s trouble. Let’s go home. Not here.” Diana kisses the dirty blonde strands on the back of his head, her own fingers at the back of his neck. Benny hums with her motions and he makes no effort to move.

“Don’t I know it Diana? You’re going to let me tease you all night? I might not drive you into work on account of you being too pleasantly sore.” Standing up straight, his face is just above her breasts, with his trademark sheepish grin, he kisses the top of each one. Her hand pulls him close before she realizes what she’s doing and then tugs back by his hair.

“I said not here Benny.”

“Need to show them why they shouldn’t touch you. Shouldn’t even think about it. Dumb bastards.” A small graze of her neck with a stern look to some of the guys from the match who were watching their display Miller turned to get in the jeep to drive them home.

Diana wasn’t one for such public displays but she would admit that Benny being territorial with her, showing people that she’s his. She’d make fun of others who found is sexy but now she understands the appeal.

The ride home found Diana parting her legs enough so Benny could reach between them and feel her soaked fabric. The whine she released nearly made him miss a stop sign. “Damn sweetheart. We’re getting to a bed maybe just the couch. I need you on your back so I can spread you and see for myself.” Benny was able to get the jeep in the driveway, hopping out and u locking the front door. Diana had only gotten her seatbelt off before Benny threw her over his shoulder and took her inside the house – he did place her gently on the couch before slamming and kicking the front door.

Peeps who would be fine with Benny tossing the on the couch 🛋️: @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @laurfilijames @yorksgirl @guelyury

@gwendibleywrites @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @tinytinymenace

Chapter Two Chapter Four

[thelonelyshore-if]

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they’re in love?

So this is the longest 'it got long' yet so answer under the cut!!

Beck: they're typically quite flirty, and when they have a crush that gets turned up to eleven. They'll want to spend more time with the person, they'll be even more teasing and playful. Trying to get the person's attention the best they can. It wouldn't be super subtle. If it's love? Beck would be almost hesitant, which--they never hesitate. Ever. With anything. They'd be uncertain and shy and have no idea how to proceed...which would be pretty obvious.

Croft: it is so obvious if they have a crush. They're more awkward around the person, get tongue-tied when they're usually confident, might even get frustrated/overwhelmed more easily. If they were in love, though, they'd straight-up worship the ground the person walked on. They love deeply and have never really been in love with somebody. I think they'd do anything for the the person they're in love with.

Jay: normally they are very direct...but the exception to that is romance. When they have feelings for someone they're almost bashful. BUT they would do anything they could to keep it cool. You'd only be able to read their slight shyness if you knew them very well. They would have to be very sure about the other person's feelings before they said anything. With love it would be much the same, but they'd be more obvious about it. Lots of longing looks. It would reach the point that Jay felt like they had to tell the other person about it.

Perri: honestly? I don't think it would be that obvious. Perri is so uncertain and anxious all the time that the added stress from a crush wouldn't make it any more noticeable. They'd blush and avoid eye contact, but that's standard for them. They would be a lot more excited to talk to the person. When it's love I think they would gain more confidence than usual around them, which might be obvious. They probably would never straight-up confess though lol that's crossing the line.

Ravi: I've mentioned before, but Ravi attempts to be in complete control of his emotions at all time. If he has a crush on somebody they will never know. At least, that would be his intention. He would be just as distant and enigmatic as typical, even as his his heart was fluttering. When he's in love it would be much the same but he'd...slip. Break 'character' unintentionally. After all, love is all-consuming. It eats you up and makes you lose yourself. Which may or may not be noticeable, based on how perceptive the other person is.

Yasmin: so if she has a crush she'll be direct. It will be obvious because she will straight-up ask you if you want to sleep together lmao. That's as far as a crush will ever go with her. If she's in love it will be more...complicated. She's been in love before. She's lost that person. She never intends to be in that position again. If Yasmin fell in love you would know because she'd be strangely conflicted and avoidant, for her. She'd all of a sudden be acting out of character and it very well might give her away.

[eliotquillon]

I know your fic is from Camerons pov, but I'm really curious about Chases state of mind throughout the loop. We know he's openly worried about her, but is he more in touch with his feelings for her? If she puts distance between them, does he respect it? Does he ever go to House or Foreman? Does he go back and break into her apartment?

OH THIS IS SUCH A TRICKY QUESTION.

it’s difficult to answer because, well…chase is kind of a puppet of the loop, just like everyone else who isn’t cameron. his mindset and behaviour can only change when cameron’s do—cameron’s the only one who really has proactive power here; everyone else is mostly reactive. this is why house only decides against telling stacy about stealing her psych records on days where cameron’s behaviour leads him to suspect the loop’s existence—it’s that (suspected) new knowledge that makes him modify his behaviour, nothing else. chase will always try to seek out cameron to discuss methgate (even when she avoids him); he will always start the loop concerned about her; off-screen, his morning routine will always play out the exact same way up until the moment cameron walks in (or doesn’t walk in) and he gets to react. so surprise! this answer is really going to be a hunting analysis in a trenchcoat.

i have always been soooo struck by that final shot of chase at the end of the episode—staring into the mirror, washing his face—and the way it parallels cameron staring into the mirror and crossing off her calendar. because first of all: this immediately pulls focus to chase in an episode that has been a Very Special Episode About Allison Cameron and also very focused on house/stacy. the screentime chase gets in hunting is mostly in the context of cameron: they’re together when they meet the patient for the first time, chase tries to comfort cameron on several occasions after the HIV exposure, they search kalvin’s hotel room together, they sleep together, they talk about it afterwards. and this is honestly not an uncommon episode setup—one of the team pulls focus and another team member becomes their ‘deputy’ in their scenes (this happens a lot with kutner and taub). chase getting a look-in in that final montage is therefore kind of weird! but it suggests that there’s more going on in chase about what happened with cameron than he’s willing to let on in the rest of the episode. he talks a good game about how the sex was good and how they probably shouldn’t do it again because it’ll get complicated, but this final shot suggests that there’s maybe a bit more to it than that already. so i guess because MY personal interpretation of this scene is that chase is more in touch with his feelings for cameron at this point than he’s willing to let on, this is also how his mindset is in the fic.

this also ties in with the mistake, and how, as @all-pacas has pointed out, chase very likely sleeps with cameron either immediately before or immediately after his final examination with the dead patient’s brother that leads to him being sued. in time loop fic it’s set so that chase has that conversation after sleeping with cameron (actually, i’m specifically setting it the day after loop day) so that doesn’t have as much of a bearing on chase in this fic as it might if he’d had that conversation before sleeping with cameron, but it’s still weighing on him. so in time loop fic chase is worried about cameron, yes, and also going ‘oh shit i think i have feelings for her’ (because let’s be real, chase has been on/off nursing a light crush on cameron since chekhov’s gun in s1), but he’s also got the Conversation on the horizon. will he talk to cameron about this, i hear you wonder…i plead the fifth. the point is that chase always has a lot swirling around in his brain even before cameron starts messing with the events of the loop and goes around changing things.

anyway where was i. cameron backing off and trying to put space between her and chase will never work—there’s a bit of this in ch2 already, with him paging her and them having a big argument about it. cameron ghosting people is a sign that she’s freaking out about something, and chase is, naturally, always going to assume that she’s freaking out about the fact that they slept together—that’s something he’s involved in, something that’s in his own best interest to try and ‘fix’, so he’s uniquely motivated to try and step in. again, this is still reactive behaviour; if cameron were to go along with the day’s events just as they played out in the episode and have a clear-the-air conversation with him, chase would, ironically, be more inclined to give her space than if she flat out avoided him. by the time cameron figures this out, she’s less inclined towards avoiding him anyway, so there won’t really be an example of him backing off in-fic (because where’s the fun in that!).

he goes to foreman quite frequently. well, more specifically—foreman goes to him. one thing i will always respect about foreman is that despite talking a big game about how he doesn’t want to be involved in work drama, he nevertheless lives for meddling in workplace gossip (even if it’s for the sake of ‘protecting his peace’ lmao). without the whole ‘do you always wear a condom?’ conversation to bring up the topic organically (and without cameron accidentally telling him because she thinks he already knows, lmao), foreman will almost always go to chase off-screen and point out that a) something’s up with cameron, and b) chase seemed worried about cameron as soon as she walked in, meaning c) chase knows what’s up with cameron and is probably involved. how cooperative chase is with this line of conversation depends on how erratic cameron’s behaviour appears to them: in some loops, where cameron seems mostly normal, chase will brush foreman off entirely. in other loops (particularly the earlier ones), where cameron appears to be acting completely insane, chase will confess to seeing her the night before and will allude to the meth, but won’t admit that he slept with her. chase and foreman aren’t friends, but it is in their collective interest that cameron’s alright—she’s their colleague, she’s usually the bridge between them, and they do both care about her. sleeping with cameron isn’t foreman’s business, in chase’s opinion (and tbh, also in foreman’s), but the meth sort of is. that said, cameron hates chase and foreman talking about her behind her back and both of them know this, so cameron rarely finds out about any of these conversations.

house is, as always, a bit messier. one of the ‘canon events’ of this loop is that house will always put two and two together about chase and cameron, although not always at the same point in the day (again, no condom conversation to pull the strings together). a lot of the time house figures this out early enough that chase doesn’t want to deal with the inevitable teasing that comes from saying he’s worried about cameron afterwards, and the times that he doesn’t…well, he puts it together as soon as chase expresses concern lol. but house’s reaction to chase coming to him is usually to do exactly what cameron is concerned he’ll do in ch1 and 2: pathologise her. after all, cameron consistently ‘solves’ kalvin’s case early enough that there’s the rest of the day to play with, and that in itself is something house finds interesting—as much as i love cameron, she rarely outright ‘solves’ cases in canon like house or chase do, and yet suddenly she’s coming into work with a confident diagnosis of something completely different to the previous options they’d all come up with (including her own—sarcoidosis). cameron is furious the first time she realises this has happened, and from then on will take steps to prevent chase from going to house (usually by just talking to chase directly). this doesn’t always stop the pathologising (again, house occasionally gets an inkling about the loop on his own as a result of cameron’s actions—butterfly effects often occur), but it does put a stop to chase talking to house about her.

chase never breaks into cameron’s apartment in the loops. not even when house tells him to lmao (and this will happen off-screen a handful of times, including in ch3–cameron doesn’t know, and therefore it won’t be obvious to any readers, but i am Word of God telling you that in loop 3 house tries to get foreman and chase to break into her apartment lol). he has no reason to—from his perspective, he was just there the night before. he already knows about the meth. he was the one who slept with her. he can’t see what else he could learn from it. he also feels very conflicted about sleeping with cameron in the first place—‘don’t turn into a good guy on me now’ got to him, she was high and he was sober, he has feelings for her and he’s pretty sure she doesn’t feel the same way—and would only feel worse about it if he violated her privacy by breaking into her apartment. a lot is rattling around his pretty blond head. there’s also the fact that chase breaking into cameron’s apartment would seriously put a spanner in the works of cameron slowly un-repressing her feelings for him—she would be so, so mad, and while chase wouldn’t remember doing it, she would. it would take a really long time for her to get over it, even with the knowledge that it’s just a ‘loop thing’, and there are only 29 loops, remember. so logistically it wouldn’t work anyway. but also chase just wouldn’t.

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Go Ahead

This is all @ginnymoonbeam’s fault. I was just minding my business, clowning around, and she whispers in my ear: There’s this great cdrama I got into. It’s about a found family formed from broken families. There are adorable motherless children. There are loving dads. They’re going deep on intergenerational trauma and they’re doing it right. I can’t stop watching it. I have a problem and it’s time for it to be your problem, too. (I’m pretty sure she said all that).

And because this kind of epic family drama is my emotional kryptonite, I absolutely could not resist. And thus, I spent the last two weeks weeping and wailing and rending my garments over one of the best family dramas I have ever seen. In my entire life. And I have watched a lot of them, folks, not even counting the western ones!

So I’m here to pay tribute to this absolutely beautiful show, and hopefully drag a few more folks into the absolute agony and ecstasy of this watch experience. Tagging @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm in particular, who I’ve already bullied into watching this once their current drama projects end, @midnight-sun16 my fellow cdrama enjoyer, @troubled-mind my R88 bud, and @wen-kexing-apologist and @emotionallychargedtowel because I know they love a good intergenerational trauma yarn. So here we go: 10 (spoiler free!) things I love about Go Ahead.

These precious babies

Left to right, that’s He Ziqiu, Li Jianjian, and Ling Xiao. They met as tiny children and are siblings by choice, not blood. They are fiercely protective of one another and their chosen family unit. And they love each other so much it absolutely will cause you to burst into tears at random intervals.

My two dads

There are two biological fathers in the mix in our little family: Li Haichao and Ling Heping, aka Li Dad and Ling Dad. They’re not a couple, but rather two single dads who have decided to raise their kids together as one family unit. They love all their children equally regardless of blood ties, and while they show up for them in very different ways, they are both excellent fathers who never let them down when it counts.

A keen understanding of intergenerational family dynamics and how we pass our trauma on

This show is deeply interested in exploring the old maxim that hurt people hurt people, particularly in the context of intergenerational families and parent-child relationships. I don't want to say a lot more because you should get to see the various plotlines that dig into this theme unfold organically. But you can trust me that this show takes it seriously and knows exactly what it's doing with these stories.

The absolute respect for chosen family

I lost count of how many times this show explicitly affirmed the legitimacy of chosen families. The first (of many) times I burst into tears watching was in just such a scene. Our characters are often met with skepticism and confusion over their family unit, and they are not having it. It's really lovely how committed they are to loving and choosing each other despite societal norms and outside judgment.

Excellent side characters treated with dignity

This gif here is of my best girl Mingyue, who is one of many excellent side characters in this drama. In this show, everyone matters and everyone has a story, and the show treats even the antagonist characters with dignity and empathy. Often the sides get their own plots that are in fact quite important to the themes - no wasted time here (which is really saying something for a 40 ep cdrama).

Female friendship for the win!

Adult Jianjian lives with her longtime best friends Qi Mingyue and Tang Can, and the show delves into their friendship dynamics and the complicated twists and turns that spring up as they get older, begin careers, and start crushing on the same boys. I love the way they look out for one another, I love the way they fight, I love the way they give each other shit, I love the way they support each other. They feel very real as longtime besties who have become family.

Nuanced exploration of difficult mothers

I'm gonna let you find out who this is on your own, but I'll say this: the show has three distinct plot lines that explore mother-child relationships, and every single one is a banger. These mothers are difficult, their choices are suspect, their motives are complex, their behavior is frustrating as hell. Where you come down on how redeemable each of them is will really be up to you, but the show gives you plenty to chew on and invites you to look upon them if not with understanding, at least with as much empathy as you can muster. I'm gonna be thinking about these moms for weeks.

Sibling dynamics done right

The way these three interact, I tell you. They've grown up together, and so they have the bond of lifetime familiarity, but they also have no actual blood ties, so they must choose over and over again to be each others' family. And they always do, even when life makes it really hard for them to protect their closeness. Watching them find their way to each other and sink into their comfortable family dynamics is always a delight. There are also some key differences in the relationship dynamics between each pair of them, which the show explores extensively. Which brings me to...

A sweet and cozy romance

This is not a spoiler - the show tells you it's coming in the opening credits. And so instead of playing a Reply 1988 style game of who's it gonna be you know from the start who it's gonna be and the fun part is taking the journey to get there (though you can amuse yourself trying to figure out which of the child actors is going to grow into this tall drink of water). Let me be clear, though - this show is not a romance. The romance plot line is very well done, but it is mostly there as another means to explore the family dynamics and how they are affected by this major change in one of the core relationships.

Emotionally intelligent writing that never falters

If you've been following me for any length of time, you know how much I care about quality writing in my dramas. And this drama has some of the best writing I've seen in a family show, particularly in the emotional intelligence behind all the character interactions. The show will surprise you sometimes, but never because the characters act in ways you don't expect or that feel wrong. The writing is assured and the show never loses its grip on who each of these characters is at their core. You can sit back, trust that you are in good hands, and enjoy the emotional roller coaster all the way to the end.