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crystal-methionine · 3 years ago

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The Post-Eurovision ranking and comments from an American that nobody asked for:

1. Switzerland 🇨🇭 Gjon’s Tears - Tout l’univers: I absolutely was enamored by this song, its artistry, and the artist. He can really sing and one of my early favorites from this year. So happy for him to get in the top 3 bc it was well deserved. 100/10

2. Italy 🇮🇹 Måneskin - Zitti e Buoni: Deserved winners. As queer as you can get and I am here for it. Another early favorite of mine constantly fighting with Switzerland for the top spot. 100/10

3. Iceland 🇮🇸 Dadi og Gagnamagnid - 10 Years: A beautiful song dedicated to his wife and deserved Top 5 for sure. Last year’s song would have won hands down so I’m bummed he couldn’t win the first one for Iceland but brilliant song and I hope the group stays together to produce more music. 99/10

4. Bulgaria 🇧🇬 Victoria - Growing Up Is Getting Old: Eurovision fandom will forever say Imaginary Friend or Ugly Cry was the better song to send, but I don’t think they would have won the contest either. This year was strong, and I personally think Growing Up was a perfect choice from Victoria. It deserved top 10 so I was pissed that it came 11th on the night and received so few televotes. 97/10

5. Ukraine 🇺🇦 Go_A - SHUM: To all y’all who said this wouldn’t qualify when the new version came out, eat those words hun. This was a masterpiece, and the live performances just elevated it further. Honestly, Kateryna could step on me, and I would let her. Who doesn’t love an ethnic modern fusion rave? 95/10

6. Serbia 🇷🇸 Hurricane - Loco Loco: I honestly have to say when it came out, it was never breaking my top 20, but here we are. This group of gals is amazing. The choreo, hairography, and the still great vocals won my gay ass over. They served and deserved top 10 in my eye. 90/10

7. Greece 🇬🇷 Stefania - Last Dance: Much like Serbia, I kinda dismissed this as a top 10 song at first, but after many listens and then the live shows, it was one of the best songs this year. Last year’s song was nowhere near a qualifier for me, and then I thought they had a good chance of being top 5 this year. Amazing improvement and can’t wait to see what comes next from Stefania. 80/10

8. Malta 🇲🇹 Destiny - Je me casse: Not going to lie, the studio definitely did more for me. It was up with Italy and Switzerland for winner contention until the live shows. Don’t get me wrong, Destiny is still amazing live, and the song is a deserved top 5 song. However, the costume and staging just really didn’t add to the song and I think detracted a bit. Her song last year was also much better in my opinion. 75/10

9. San Marino 🇸🇲 Senhit ft Flo Rida - Adrenalina: Oh boy this was a party, and the fact Flo Rida actually was there made it even better. The staging and costuming was absolutely camp, and I was here for it. This was definitely not underrated by fans beforehand, but the jury and televote were beyond robberies in my opinion. Granted I know the backing vocals were carrying the chorus a lot so in terms of vocals, I can see where this song got dinged, but this should have been San Marino’s best ever result at Eurovision, and it wasn’t so I’m mad. 60/10

10. France 🇫🇷 Barbara Pravi - Voila: The new Edith Piaf and probably one of the most representative of the country’s culture for a song. A definite deserved runner up on the night but for me 10th place. I loved the staging, the costume, the emotions. It was all right for Eurovision and me. 50/10

11. Cyprus 🇨🇾 Elena Tsingarou - El Diablo: Come through Cyprus with another female pop banger. I’d say if the formula ain’t broke don’t fix it, but wasn’t really enough to crack top 10 this year. Another early favorite of mine this year but soon got eclipsed. Still going to be listening to El Diablo for a while. 49/10

12. Russia 🇷🇺 Manizha - Russian Woman: I can’t lie that at first, this song was absolutely trash to me but quickly rose the ranks and became one of my faves. Same thing happened last year with Uno. We also always love a good female empowerment moment with the native language thrown in. Manizha is a girlboss without the gaslighting and a true queen. Deserved top 10 the night of. 40/10

13. Lithuania 🇱🇹 The Roop - Discoteque: An earworm for first listen and was top 10 for a while for me but like Cyprus, lost out to some others. No doubt this is a deserved top 10 the night of. 35/10

14. Croatia 🇭🇷 Albina - Tick Tock: The first song to get me pressed on it’s placement. Deserved to be in the final over both Israel and Norway (please come for me I don’t care). They freakin rocked that stage during the semis and the song is absolutely a bop. Albina deserved better. 30/10

15. Sweden 🇸🇪 Tusse - Voices: A beautiful song by an amazing artist. Sure the lyrics were a bit cliche Eurovision but guess what...it’s Eurovision. I can hear the voices. Keep carrying on Tusse. 25/10

16. Albania 🇦🇱 Anxehla Peristeri - Karma: This song grew on me a lot. I liked it but wasn’t a don’t skip for a while on my playlist. The live performance changed it for me. She slayed and the staging was everything for Miss Thing. Also native language brownie points. 24/10

17. Finland 🇫🇮 Blind Channel - Darkside: Before you come for me for having this at 17th, keep reading. I’m not a big fan of the lyrics but the song is absolutely fantastic. This style of music isn’t something I pull out on a playlist often, but I had my middle fingers up for this one (and pointed at Germany but we’ll discuss later). Deserved top 10 as they rocked it on stage. 20/10

18. The Netherlands 🇳🇱 Jeangu Macrooy - Birth of a New Age: I absolutely do not understand the hate for this song. I was also a huge fan of Grow last year so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised for being generally alone again. The fact it got 0 points in the televote and only 11 in the jury is not surprising but extremely disappointing to me. This song is a masterpiece much like the ones ranked above it. Jeangu, you are amazing and deserved so much better than this. 20/10

19. Belgium 🇧🇪 Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place: Fantastic song but fantastic artists. Always here for a dark pop moment. Gonna go get my own Johnny Cash T-shirt. 15/10

20. Spain 🇪🇸 Blas Cantó - Voy a Quedarme: Such a heartfelt ballad. I enjoyed it quite a bit and don’t understand the hate it has. Didn’t deserve 0 points in the televote. 14/10

21. Denmark 🇩🇰 Fyr og Flamme - Øve Os På Hinanden: Look we all know this song is cheesy but it’s the cheesiest Velveeta queso loco so it’s ranked so high in my opinion. This is a nod to the whacky and weird Eurovision I love. It’s always in my head and I always find myself dancing along. Deserved to be in the final over two of the songs in Semi 2. 13/10

22. Azerbaijan 🇦🇿 Efendi - Mata Hari: As far as the song goes, it’s enjoyable, but the stage show was a hot mess in my opinion. The choreo looked a mess and the different sheer legging configurations on the backup dancers was not the correct fashion choice in my opinion as I was distracted by the thought of why are they all different. Did deserve their spot in the final though. 12/10

23. Moldova 🇲🇩 Natalia Gordienko - Sugar: The studio version of this song is a heavily replayed one on my playlist bc of the drop and dance-ability of the song. However the downfall of the song was it’s live performance. The staging was fine and the choreo was great but those attempted sexy whisper vocals were not the choice to go with. I don’t want to sugar-coat this 😝 so they were terrible. Glad she made it but I felt her position in the final was one of just pure luck. 11/10

24. UK 🇬🇧 James Newman - Embers: The nul points was a huge ass oof. This song isn’t bad but I can see where people didn’t vote for it bc it’s not super memorable in terms of who all was participating this year. I like the song and always sing and dance along. 10/10

25. Israel 🇮🇱 Eden Alene - Set Me Free: This is how to do a revamp and be successful. Eden is a fantastic artist who can clearly sing, but the live performance was not all that sans the whistle tones. Yet the whistle tones aside, the song is lacking a lot. When looking back at the songs available, this one should not have been the selected one. I was always on the fence with this one and still am. 9.5/10

26. Czechia 🇨🇿 Benny Cristo - Omaga: The live definitely hurt this song in the first minute and a half. The second half was absolutely what should have happened in terms of vocals. Still like the song and listen to it often. 9.25/10

27. Ireland 🇮🇪 Leslie Roy - Maps: This song was a victim of a super strong bloodbath and shoddy staging ideas. The song is arresting and a bop. Leslie’s gruff voice mixed with the modernized Irish sounds is a match made. The staging of this song that required Leslie to run along with the beat and the distracting and constantly changing bits of the performance we’re definitely it’s downfall. It didn’t deserve last place in Semi 1 though. 9.25/10

28. Portugal 🇵🇹 The Black Mamba - Love Is On My Side: I am the first to admit that while I don’t like the song, it deserved the final. The staging and atmosphere elevated the song. 9/10

29. Austria 🇦🇹 Vincent Bueno - Amen: In the battle of the Amens, this one wins solely based on the classy and amazing staging. Don’t get me wrong, Slovenia’s was also elevating but this one did it better. 8.5/10

30. Australia 🇦🇺 Montaigne - Technicolor: This song is a fantastic one for studio. The live since the Sydney Mardi Gras performance has been rough and didn’t necessarily improve. I feel bad bc I do really love this song but it definitely didn’t deserve to qualify. This being said, I love Montaigne, and Don’t Break Me was my runner up last year, and I still listen to it as my anthem when I’m feeling down. I wish I could rank this higher but I can’t. 8.5/10

31. Romania 🇷🇴 Roxen - Amnesia: This song is great in the studio but it got old real fast for me and I don’t know why. This mixed with the poor vocals and the bizarre costume:stage combo was really what did this in and got this low in my ranking. 8.25/10

32. Slovenia 🇸🇮 Ana Soklic - Amen: The loser of the Amen battle, but just barely. The song and vocals are better in my opinion but the whole package was just barely edged out in the end. 8/10

33. Latvia 🇱🇻 Samanta Tīna - Moon Is Rising: Look, this song is nowhere near as good as last years. The queeeeeen sashayed away with that annoying trap beat. 8/10

34. North Macedonia 🇲🇰 Vasil - Here I Stand: Leave it to the gays for bringing musical theatre to Eurovision. The song honestly isn’t that special or memorable but he’s higher up bc his stage and voice are amazing. 7/10

35. Norway 🇳🇴 Tix - Fallen Angel: A great message on mental health outside of the song and Tix seems like a quality fella but I do not like the song. I preferred it in Norwegian. And this low ranking is not at all influenced over him beating out Keiino (but maybe a slight bit tho). 5/10

36. Estonia 🇪🇪 Uku Suviste - The Lucky One: While this was 1000% better than last years entry, it still was relatively boring. The stage was equally as boring so sorry Estonia, but you didn’t make the mark. 4.5/10

37. Poland 🇵🇱 Rafael - The Ride: This throwback to the 80s was a bad one. The attempt at a one hit wonder vibe really hurt it along with the artist’s terrible vocals. Also half the time, he was behind the pyro and relying on backup vocals. 4/10

38. Georgia 🇬🇪 Tornike Kipiani - You: You really should not have to wait so long for the more upbeat rock ending of this. If it was that last 30 seconds for 3 minutes, it would be much better. A definite step back from last year. 1/10

39. Germany 🇩🇪 Jendrick - I Don’t Feel Hate: Jendrick might not feel hate but I do bc that is all I feel when this song comes on. 0.5/10

#Eurovision #Eurovision 2021 #top 39 eurovision #my opinion

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

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il un a visage gentil (prof!gwilym lee x prof! gn reader)

genre: fluff

summary: who knew the attractive english lit professor also happened to speak french? not his new coworker, that’s for sure.

words: 1.7k

warnings: reader embarassing herself a lil bit, that’s it :)

a/n: hi!! first of all, no pronouns are used as this is from readers pov, so anyone can read. second of all, so i typically don’t write for gwil, but i had this idea in french the other day when my french teacher (sweet old french man who deserves better LMAODSJO) was going over some assignment that for some reason had il un a visage gentil in it LOLOL. that being said, i obvi don’t speak fluent french and this is all fictional! love u, hope u enjoy!!

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

“Hello everyone, and welcome to your first day. I’m Dr Gwilym Lee, and I am the head of the English Literature Department here at Oxford University. Feel free to call me Gwil, it’s what all my students do.”

I slanted my eyes from my position at the door, gripping the frame just a tad tighter than I had been before hearing his voice. I continued to listen to the doctor talk as I made my way behind the last row of seats in the lecture room, trying not to make any noise. My heels were thankfully mute against the carpet, not drawing any attention towards me, the professor keeping complete focus on his students.

“One of the first things I wanted to kind of, um, touch on, is that I will be quite flexible. I understand that you have lives, as do I. As long as I can see an honest effort being put into my class, I will hold no repercussions for late work or being physically late to class.”

With that, he looked up to where I had just sat down, quirking a brow. The eye contact was momentary, only lasting what seemed to be a second, if that.

I cleared my throat, looking to my feet.

“We at the english department are quite proud of our status, ranking 4th in english programs overall in the UK. Now I won’t continue to bore you with the statistics, but-“

I made a scan of the room, seeing how only 1 or 2 pupils were actually listening, the rest either slumped over looking at their phones, or pretending to take notes on a laptop while really watching netflix. (More than one student was watching gossip girl, oddly enough.)

Considering it was only 5 minutes into the hour long lecture, I was confused, as he was holding my attention, at least, quite well.

After about 30 minutes, I realized that my own “first day lecture” was in 15 minutes, which assured that I most definitely had to leave. I was saddened by this (even though I had only even planned on staying in Gwil’s room for a small while.

I sighed quietly, picking myself up from the surprisingly comfortable seats and making my way towards the door. Just as I was about to go, I felt eyes boring holes into the back of my head. I turned, realizing Gwilym to be the perp. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, quickly walking out and down the hallway to my own room.

I made it in, hurrying down the many stairs, past where a few students were waiting.

“Hi, everyone, I’ll just be a few moments, just waiting for the rest of your new classmates to arrive.”

I smiled briefly, before slamming my office door audibly, chest heaving with my back against the shaded window. I closed my eyes, unaware of why I had been so panicked by the brief interaction, not to mention the butterflies it hatched in my stomach.

After giving myself some time to decompress, I exhaled, smoothing out the skirt of my dress and rotating. I placed a hand on the handle, preparing myself for the fresh faced freshman.

As I opened the door, I heard half a knock, before whoever was behind the door (poor soul) essentially fell on top of me.

Expecting to see a red faced pupil who had just made a very interesting first impression, I looked up, suddenly becoming the one with a warm and itchy wave of embarrassment making its way up my neck.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” He stood up, reaching out a hand. I hesitated before reaching forward and gripping tightly, allowing him to tug me up.

“It’s alright, Gwil, really.”

He opened his mouth (not that I was paying any mind to his lips), presumably to ask my name. Before he got the chance, I beat him to it, blurting out my full title, unfortunately in a quite awkward way.

The students that had gathered had mostly turned their attention elsewhere by now, only a few of them still watching the live disaster that was my interaction with the incredibly attractive man in front of me.

He spoke up as I tried to maneuver my way around him to the podium positioned in the front of the room where my laptop was waiting.

“Well, I had assumed you were a student who was trying to sneak off early, but I stand corrected, then.” He looked around my slowly filling space, a slight amusement hiding in his gaze.

“Yes, sorry, I had caught you at a bad time, I was hoping to introduce myself, you know, trying to make a good impression. Feels like the first day of school all over again.” I laughed, bringing a hand up to brush away a stray strand that had somehow managed to escape my bun.

“It’s alright, don’t stress about it. And trust me, I get it. New jobs are scary.”

I huffed, looking out at the sea of judgmental young people that I now would have to face after that fiasco. Lovely.

“You could say that again.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a short amount of time, the clock striking 2:30 being what woke me from my trance.

“That’s my queue.” I gave a small wave as he walked off, a smile spreading across his face at the motion.

I turned to my teaching assistant, fully believing he was out of earshot.

“Il un a visage gentil, eh?”

She only laughed, nodding her head and plugging in my macbook, allowing the screen to come alive with a flurry of colors in my powerpoint.

“Hi guys! Or should I say bonjour!” I paused, receiving a few chuckles in the crowd.

“I’m sorry for getting us started so late, I had a small mishap. I’m Dr Y/n Y/l/n, and I am your professor this year in the French undergraduate course, where you will have the opportunity to study medieval literature, modern day linguistics, and much more, which I will get into later on.

We here at Oxford have the single largest French department in Britain, which we have come to have extreme pride in. We also have a french cultural center, where you will find a large selection of programmes and literature to choose from. If you haven’t yet checked it out yet,” I briefly looked up, seeing Gwilym still stood at the top of the stairs. He gave me another small smile, crossing his arms.

“Sorry, lost my place. Where was I?”

After class, I walked up to where the tall man had now moved to the side, allowing students to flood right by him.

“Gwil, hi!”

“Hi to yourself.”

I blushed, the feeling of fuzzy-ness once again flooding my entire system at just the brief statement. Odd. Extremely odd.

“That was very nice, I have a feeling this class will be quite popular in the coming years.”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Thank you, I appreciate it, truly. Although, I must say that I can tell everyone is racing to get a spot in Professor Gwilym Lee’s class 100% percent.”

He cocked his head, slimming his eyes.

“Really, you think so?”

We continued to walk down the long hallway, neither of us quite aware of where we happened to be going.

“Oh for sure, I can imagine you’re especially popular with a certain demographic, too.”

His confusion seemed to only grow, stormy blue eyes seemingly lost.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” His voice slightly raised an octave at the end, earning a chuckle from me.

“Look, all I’m saying is that with looks like that, I bet your roster was full in seconds.”

I paused, the flow of conversation stopping as I came to terms with what I had just accidentally said. Out loud. In front of my new coworker, who happens to be incredibly gorgeous. A wonderful first day I’m having.

We resumed walking, a blanket of complete silence falling upon us all the way until we reached the entrance to the facility.

The chilly December air hit my face immediately, as well as droplets of rain that were falling so hard it felt like small bullets were grazing my nose, which I could barely feel after just a few moments outside.

“Here.” Gwil muttered, pulling out a bright red umbrella and using it to shield us both from the angry pellets sent from above.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Then it was quiet again between us both, minus the sounds of chattering students and the rain hitting and then sliding off of our cover, coming in contact with the ground with a final splat.

“You know,” Gwilym began, always the one to break the silence.

I hummed, turning my head in his direction.

“I speak a little bit of French, as well. And I think you also have a nice face.” He nudged my elbow and laughed, while I closed my eyes and sighed, hanging my head.

“So there really isn’t any other way I could possibly embarrass myself right now, is there?”

He only shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, now that I think of it, there might be one more thing I can think of?”

“What would that be?”

“Saying no to a cup of coffee?”

It was like I froze over completely, my mind suddenly growing blank when I needed it mostt.

“With me?” I asked, the question more aimed towards myself, a miniscule act of reassurance and affirmation.

Gwilym smiled brightly as he shook his head, and I swear, I had never seen anything more amazing.

“Yes, Y/n, with you.”

I stuttered, embarrassed for what seemed like the millionth time that day, specifically at my lack of verbal skills.

“Yes, yes of course, that sounds amazing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He offered me an arm which I gladly took, and we started walking to the quaint campus cafe just across the street from our building.

It was the same cafe where (not that we knew it yet) the both of us would make many late night coffee runs together during midterms week, the stressful time growing to become one of our favorites as it was now filled with giggles and caffeine.

Usually it would end up with one of us, that one of us usually being me, leaving a ring of coffee on the other’s ungraded assignments. Or even better, spilling an entire drink on the paper, only a “sorry!” written in Gwil’s rushed handwriting at the top of the curiously scented paper as explanation.

But as I said, we didn’t know that yet.

。·☔︎◎❦·。·

kinda gross but whatevs, like and rb if u did indeed enjoy it. mwah, go eat some protein, take an electronics break and drink some water. love u

xx hj

#prof!gwil #professor!gwilym #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym imagine #gwilym x reader #gwilym!brian #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee x you #gwilym lee x yn #gwilym lee x y/n #gwilym lee x fem reader #gwilym lee x gn reader

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years ago

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'Fighting spirit' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Fighting spirit"

"I'm always happy when I have you near me, knowing that we both protecting each other !"

Chapter Summary : 3 days has passed since the terrible mission that has cost Garrett's life, Yirina is finally ready to have an talk with Song after an discussion with Park....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3600

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I couldn't know more about why I wasn't talking when I was captured and why I was sometimes sick during the end of December 1980, something that is intriguing me since that memory I had with Freya. I tried with Zasha, I didn't have any responses except for an little talk with them after 2 longs days and then, I tried with Sims....same result with him, nothing that could give me an clear answer to the first question, I guess that my memory will have to work hard to discover the answers I need but it will take an lot of time.

After that talk with Sims, I did go to the dorm and finally have some sleep...an troubled one to be honest, thinking about Garrett, Song....shit, I don't know how I can make myself able to go talk with Song after today. She's probably hating me and the fact that she didn't talk to anyone like Hudson claimed, it will be very hard to me to have an discussion with her. I will do it for sure but now....it's complicated.

During the 3 following days after that terrible day, an part of the team including me, Park, Song & Woods stayed back at the base while the other part was making some travel in the jungle to clear up the remaining forces of Perseus & Naga in the region. It was at the end of that day, the 28th of May in the middle of the night....that Sims, Wolf & Rivas came back...with Garrett's body. They finally found him after days of research and when we saw him, I was nearly broke in the inside along with Park & Song....she was crying the tears of all her body when she asked everyone to leave her alone with Garrett in the medical room.

"Yiri ?" I was sit alone at my workplace when Park came back from outside after passing an call to London, calling me out in an low voice as she arrived near me.

"Yes ?" I demanded, putting my eyes away from the M1911 where the engraved bullet is still inside that mag, not having even shot with the pistol for days to look at Park.

"You might want to have some peace & an talk ?" She proposed with an small grin, gesturing in the outside, at the direction that she came.

"Yeah, it would be good for me." I replied, slowly getting up from my chair to grab my light browned military jacket and an cigarette from an pack on the desk. "Where are we going ?" I asked her.

"Somewhere quiet with some peace." She responded, repeating her words from her last sentence silently as I put on my jacket and then follow her outside. We've been doing that since 3 days now and it was good...just me & Park, trying to have some moments alone to think about the situation. "You're okay ?" She questioned, talking about my state.

"No, it will take time." I answered, still thinking about the mission and by looking at Park, it was the same thing for her. We finally stopped ourselves near an empty Huey, our usual talking spot. "I don't think that I will forget that easily, Garrett didn't deserve that." I added, once fully stopped.

"I know, me too." Park breathed before sitting down on the ground with her. "I managed to call London." She started after we got sit.

"You called the director ?" She nodded to my question, biting her lips.

"I had to tell him of what happened clearly." She said, crossing her arms and looking down at her feets. "His body will get send back to London." She continued in an sad tone. Manchester was where Garrett was born

"Does he have any family ?" I demanded as I didn't know about this but she shook her head.

"He had one but...." She snorted, sounding like an hard subject to talk. "His parents died during the Troubles in Northen Ireland and his sister...she's part of the IRA." She added, making my eyes goes wide.

"Garrett was Irish ?" I whispered, sounding an bit stunned.

"He was born in Manchester but an large part of his life, he lived it in Belfast, his parents were Irish." She explained to me, slowly pulling her head up to look at me, sad. "His parents only wanted an good life for him but they died in 1974, his sister has decided to join the IRA ranks while him....he fled Belfast to get to London."

"And he joined the MI6." I expressed discreetly, biting the left part of my lips followed by an nodding from Park. "I never thought that Garrett was in fact an Irish." I exclaimed, still surprised by that news.

"It's something that he wasn't so public about." Park stated to me, looking around. "He didn't want to be considered as an Irish and for him, his true links are in England." She grinned an little about it, an grin of sadness. "Even with where his sister is now, the MI6 will told her about it."

"Of course, she had to know even if she's working with the IRA." I affirmed, knowing that family is something to count on even if we're in cold with someone in it. "Did you work against the IRA ?" I demanded to Park, curious about it.

"No, I was more focused on what was happening around the world but I did never wanted to get myself involved with them." She replied, sounding sure of her words. "Even if I believed first that the IRA killed my brother, things weren't normal."

"If only I was able to avoid that to happen...." I breathed away, thinking about that day before Park put her left hand on my lap as I was sit just next to her.

"It wasn't your fault." She told me in an low voice, wanting to reassure me. "You tried to help him to know the truth."

"Yeah...the truth." I repeated this word, meaning an lot as I was really trying to help her brother William to arrest Stone and maybe reveal Perseus's threat long before. "Things could have been different but here we are." I spoke up, looking at the direction of the hangar. "Trying to find the man who fucked up with my brain while hoping that Naga will talk." I added. We couldn't interrogate Naga until he was properly healed and it was only today that we could know if he's going to do it.

"Me...you...Woods & some others, no one want to put their lives on the line to save Adler but we have no choice." She stated surely, giving her thoughts that we share. "And if we don't, like Woods said, we will be all speaking russian." She continued, sounding like an joke but her voice wasn't following that thought.

"To say that this fight against Perseus could have been done if Adler wasn't so stubborn." I confirmed that to Park who nodded sadly, probably thinking of the 3 years I spent in an coma. "What can I say now ? I'm back, still struggling to not getting killed by Perseus or the CIA." I said before slowly starting to get up, back on my feets.

"You think that you're ready to talk to Song ?" Park questioned me, also getting up, an question that she's asking each time we end those moments.

"Yeah, I think I am." I responded, changing from the last answers I gave to her.

"You don't want to wait or you're sure to do that now ?" She questioned me again.

"It's better that I do that now." I breathed, joining my hands with Park for an second, looking at them with good eyes. "I will do it alone." I claimed even if Park said that she was always here to help me in case. "If I need you, I will ask you."I added before I did an kiss on her lips that lasted only an little second.

"Thanks." She whispered before we start to get away from the spot to return back inside the hangar.

As Park was going to take an shower near the dorm, I came back to my workplace, hoping to see Song at the moment but she was still inside the medical room with Garrett as the others said to me and advicing me to wait until she came back into the main room but she wasn't coming back after waiting almost 10 minutes, everyone going to sleep as Park came back at the workplace, awaiting for Song too.

I didn't want to wait too much so I decide to go to the medical room without listening to the others advices, taking my M1911 with me and letting Park alone as I requested from her. Passing through the door leading to the medical room was very hard for me to do, fearing to be greeted by something not nice but instead, nothing happened when I slowly entered the room and then, I saw her.

She was sit on an chair near an bed where Garrett body has been put in for the moment until he got transported to the UK. She had her hands all around Garrett left one, looking at him with sadness. On his face, he was also smiling too....he left his world, smiling....thinking maybe about Song.

"Song ?" I started in an low voice, slowly walking to get next to her, not wanting to erupt brutally.

"Go away." She ordered in an silent voice despite the words used. It was her first words she did pronounce in 3 days and....it was weird. "I want to be alone with him." She exclaimed, her look still on him.

"I know, Song but can we talk ?" I demanded, now not sure at all about actually talking after seeing her like that. "It's maybe not the time but I think I need to do this." I continued, causing her to look at me.

"You want to talk ?" She told me in an normal voice, holding Garrett's hand in hers as I nodded to her. "Park told me what happened." She said as Park actually tried last day to talk with her with no avail. "I'm not angry anymore."

"You're not angry against me ?" I expressed, sounding confused.

"Not anymore." She repeated, looking back at Garrett. "I know that Park always say the truth and what she said about you, I know it's the truth." She continued, me keeping an straight face, fearing her reaction if I smile...something that I wasn't really able to do since 3 days. "You're an good person, Grigoriev."

"Thanks." I breathed, finally getting next to Song and looking at Garrett with an little grin of sadness. "I'm sorry, Song." I apologized, putting my left hand on her shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault." She whispered before she put her hand in her jacket to grab something inside. "Something you might want to know." She added, handing to me an single black picture.

"What's this ?" I asked, trying to figure out what was this black picture until I realized...."No, don't tell me...." I stopped myself, fully realizing the meaning of that picture.

"It's been 3 months now." She responded, putting her right hand on her chest....she was pregnant...and Garrett was the father. "I was going to tell him after the mission." She explained as I was giving back the picture, stunned by that revelation. "It was....one of his dream to be an father." She continued, her eyes looking at me.

"Really ?" I chuckled and she nodded.

"Yeah but now....my child is going to grow up without an father." She muttered, her voice filled with sadness. "I can't tell anyone about this."

"Song." I started, moving to get at her level next to her, wrapping my hands around the one she had on her chest. "You can trust me & Park, we can help you." I admitted.

"I know." She smiled at me, looking at my hands. "You're my friends, I'm trusting you." She confirmed before her eyes was looking at the door direction. "To say that the man who is responsible for his death is in this very building." She thought.

"You wanted me to pull the trigger but I couldn't." I started to get my M1911 to remove the engraved bullet from the chamber to show it to Song. "This bullet....it was supposed to kill him...for Garrett." I showed her the bullet and Naga's name on it. "I will keep it until I do it." I said before I pulled back the bullet into the mag.

"I heard that he's in the interrogation room with Hudson." Song told me, immediately knowing what she wanted to do.

"You want to go with me in that room." I nodded at her, making her sure that I knew of her intentions. "I'm waiting for you with Park at the door." I added before I got up to stand, slowly moving away from Song & Garrett.

"Good night, Garrett." Song snorted as I saw her moving to pull an little kiss on Garrett's forehead before she start to follow me outside.

It was hard for her to actually leave that room and Garrett but now knowing that we are going to get to see Naga at his interrogation room, I was maybe ready to actually did what I wasn't able to do days ago. Of course, I told Park about our moves and she agreed to follow us but I didn't tell about Song's pregnancy, thinking that it would be better for her that Song reveal that to her directly instead by me.

The interrogation room wasn't so far from the dorm and when we entered it, we could see Hudson, walking around Naga who was tied up in an chair, an bandage covering his left arm after I cut off his hand and an lot of dressings on his face. Like the man who was tortured by Wolf, Woods & Rivas, Naga was almost naked, only wearing an pair of boxers, not even socks.

"You're here to interrogate him ?" Hudson demanded, seeing the three of us arrive in the room and stopping to move before getting leaned against an wall.

"Did he say anything ?" I asked him, not even responding to his rhetorical question.

"No, he's been inconscious after Woods came in to talk." He replied, gesturing to look at the cuts that Naga has on his legs. "Here's the tools if you need to." He pointed at us an table filled with said 'tools' : wrench, an big car battery, etc....

"You used them ?" Park questioned Hudson, moving to get next to the table.

"No, we wait that Naga's fully operational until we can use them." He responded, crossing his arms as I was looking back at the table, Song stayed behind.

"Park, give me those two metal stems." I pointed at her next to the battery. Torture was disgusting me but...when someone is hurting my friends...I have no choices.

"What are you planning ?" She demanded as she gave me the stems anyway in my hands.

"Something electric." I answered, sounding mostly angry in the inside, not even making an laugh of it. "Hey, you awake ?" I started to slap Naga's face, wanting to awake him up from his sleep.

"Uh ?" He muttered, slowly waking up.

"I need you to stay focused !" I exclaimed before I literally planted the two metal stems in his respectives kneecaps, causing him to scream painfully as Song closed the door to muffle his attempts to scream more.

"That's brutal from you." Hudson told me.

"I didn't ask for your opinion." I looked at him with deadly eyes, my rage fuelling up before looking back at Naga. "Fully awake ?"

"Fuck you !" He cursed, fighting the pain of having two metal stems in his legs as Park moved the car battery next to Naga, having realized my plans with Naga : torture by electrocution. She put the battery cables on the stems, ready to activate the battery.

"It isn't going to help you if you don't talk." I affirmed to him, putting my hands on his arms, holding them firmly in my hands. "Now...tell us where did Stitch has taken Adler ?" I asked him but the only thing he did was to spit on my face.

"Do it !" Song ordered in an low voice and I nodded to Park, not before putting an tissue inside Naga's mouth, avoiding him to fully scream. She activate the battery, causing Naga to look at the ceilling, receiving an lot of electricity inside his body as me, Park, Song & Hudson was looking at him. I was slighlty disturbed by my own actions to torture but Naga killed an friend....

"It's good ?" I gestured at Park to stop, removing the tissue from his mouth.

"Better to start talking, Naga." Hudson suggested, still in the same position and taking an deep breath.

"I ain't saying anything." Naga admitted before spitting again on my face, causing me to clean up my face and putting back the tissue in his mouth.

"Again." Song told Park who activate the battery again and making me Naga scream, muffled by the tissue. This time, we let him getting electrocuted for almost an minute. "I think it will talk now." She added.

"You can stop now." I said to Park who stopped the battery.

"So, Naga, willing to talk ?" Park questioned him, her hands ready to activate the battery in case an bad answer from him.

"I know....I know...." He whispered, struggling with the shock he has received in an short time.

"What do you know ?" Song asked him, walking next to me, her voice very dark & serious.

"I can tell....where Stitch has taken Adler...." He started, half-opening his eyes and sweating on all his body. "Kas....Kastovia....he took him to...Kastovia." He gave us an answer.

"Kastovia ?" I muttered.

"It's an small socialist republic in the Soviet Union near the Georgian SSR." Hudson explained to me, giving me more intels about what was this Kastovia. "It's an perfect place for Stitch to hide but now is to know where exactly."

"Where's Stitch, Naga ?" Park threatened him, making him look at her hands, posed on the battery, precisely on the switch

"I don't know." He breathed.

"Do it again." Song ordered, causing me to pull back the tissue.

"Verdansk !" Naga shouted before I could pull the tissue in his mouth, stopping me in my moves.

"You're saying that Stitch has taken Adler in the Kastovian capital ?" Hudson expressed, sounding astonished to hear that from Naga like us. "Damnit, something must be happening in Verdansk."

"And what now ?" Song demanded to Hudson.

"We will make an briefing tomorrow with Naga's new intels and to see if the crews in the field find something about it." He replied, moving away from the wall to grab an pack of cigarettes from his jacket. "For now, Naga's gonna stay here until further notice." He added before he start to go away but then....he grabbed my right.

"What do you want ?" I asked him silently, making some steps back as Park & Song were watching Naga.

"Officialy, the CIA want me to make Naga an informant about the Golden Triangle but...." He stopped himself to look at Naga. "I'll cover you three, you can do it, I will keep my eyes shut." He continued before releasing me and walking out of the room....did he really approved of letting us do what's needs to be done ?

"Song." I whispered as I took off my M1911 of my holstler, checking if the engraved bullet was in the chamber.

'Yes ?" She demanded, looking at me.

"I think that...you should be the one to pull the trigger." I replied, handing over my M1911 to her, she was the one who has to do it...I've been thinking of this since the whole torturing session.

"I don't know..."

"Trust me." I cut her gently, still handing the gun to her.

"Song, you're the one to do it." Park affirmed, giving some hope to Song as she finally took the gun from my hands.

"Hey, I made an deal with Hudson !" Naga protested with us but that wasn't avoiding Song to point my gun to him. "You will have big problems, girls !"

"We know." I told him, crossing my arms.

"That's for Garrett !" Song expressed in an rage before closing her eyes.

"Wait...." Naga pleaded but it was too late...as Song pulled the trigger of my M1911 and the engraved bullet flied straight to his head, hitting him right between the two eyes and his body went limp.....he was finally dead.

"That's for Garrett." Song repeated again before she turned around to face me to give me back my pistol. "Thanks, Grigoriev, you really have an good spirit in you." She confessed as I took back my pistol before she start to slowly walk away from the room, leaving me & Park with Naga's dead body.

"She's saying the truth, you have an wonderful spirit." Park added to Song's statement, putting her hands above my heart. "An fighting spirit." She exclaimed as I was pulling my M1911 in its holstler.

"Thanks...I did what was need to be done, Song was the one who needed to pull the trigger." I told her, looking away at the opened door and thinking of an lot of things right now. "It wasn't going to bring him back but now...he could rest in peace, knowing the man responsible is dead." I confirmed, taking back the same words I remember days ago before going into Laos.

"I'm proud of you like always, Yiri." Park affirmed to me as we started to walk away from the room, leaving Naga's body in here before closing the door behind me as Park was grinning at my side.....

"I'm sure that he's proud of you....you did really good."

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #yirina grigoriev #fem!bell #helen park

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 3 years ago

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Well, I’ve finished Succession. The last episode was good, better than the rest of season 3, I thought. It all had good points, was well written and stuff. But I have to say I’m glad to be done with that. I feel a little bit the same way I did after watching House of Cards (US and UK versions). Which is... I wanted to keep watching to see what would happen next. It might be worth re-watching at times to catch foreshadowing and layers that I missed the first time. But I don’t like any of the characters enough to want to virtually spend more time with them, and in the end I’m not that invested in the stakes. They’re all terrible people. I don’t hope some rich kids get to take over a company that’s ruined the world. I don’t hope one of those rich kids’ husband and cousin get to take over a company that’s ruined the world. I don’t hope their dad holds onto the company that’s ruined the world. I don’t hope the lawyers or CFO or other executives take over a company that’s ruined the world. I don’t care if some people from another terrible company take over a company that’s ruining the world.

So I don’t have enough emotional investment in the show to make it something I want to watch a lot more times. I don’t care what the endgame is. Unless it’s Jess Jordan and Ewan Roy in charge of the company and basically everyone else in jail. That would be cool. Give Jess Jordan a spinoff, I’d watch the hell out of that. I think she’s my favourite character.

Anyway. I’m now moving on to re-watching the first three seasons of Wynonna Earp/watching for the first time the fourth season of Wynonna Earp, which is much more fun. It’s in the trio of Canadian sci-fi/fantasy female-fronted queer-woman-as-main-characters shows: Lost Girl, Orphan Black, Wynonna Earp (there’s also a show called Being Erica that technically fits that bill aside from the lack of queer women in the main cast, it’s not a great show but I do have a soft spot for it and have watched it a few times). Lost Girl and Wynonna Earp are very fun, silly shows that will warm the heart of any Buffy fan who’s looking for a more recent show that’s like that except it’s made by someone less terrible than Joss Whedon and takes itself less seriously (it’s me, I’m that fan).

Orphan Black doesn’t fit the bill quite so much, because it’s more hard sci-fi than fantasy so it has a different feel. But it does feature Tatiana Maslany as fourteen different characters (clones of each other) in a performance that deserves to win every single award. And I mean every award. Like... the Nobel Prize for Chemistry. MVP of the World Chess Championships. There should be one year when every award on Planet Earth just goes to Tatiana Maslany for her incredible performance of that many different complex, constantly interacting characters on Orphan Black.

Anyway. That was a tangent. The point is I like this trio of shows that happen to fit perfectly into my niche: Canadian, fantasy/sci-fi, queer and female-driven, and they happen to be really fun and entertaining and have cool characters and fun world-building. I’m going to watch Wynonna Earp fight demons. I mean, at the moment, I’m going to go outside and shovel my parents’ front walk because I’m over here for Christmas and we’re trying to be festive even though my asshole brother went to a party last week and is getting tested today and might ruin Christmas for everyone because he put his desire to party over his family’s safety. But at some point after that, I am going to forget about all that and watch Wynonna Earp fight demons. It is objectively not as well written as HBO’s Succession, but it is more fun, and that is something I want because at the moment I’m trying to be distracted from selfish siblings and for some reason Succession doesn’t do that very well.

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

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Shattered Lives Ch 36 Pt 1

The days between moving in with Gustaf and New Year’s Eve were filled with never ending chores, because despite Gustaf wanting her to relax and take it easy, Sildie wanted her apartment done. Boxing up the remaining things she put them in storage, still not at ease with getting rid of anything just yet. The hard reality of what if they split still plagued her mind, once bitten twice shy. She had to keep it real, had to think of the long term back up plan in case it all went to hell in a hand basket, especially with four children in the mix. Even more of a chore was deciding on whether to keep the furniture or sell it, what to do with the apartment, did she leave it all as it was or rent it out, sell it, renovate it? Then there was the unpacking of all her stuff in Gustaf’s apartment, their apartment, cleaning, trash pick up, the list never ended. She’d come to the realization moving just sucked.

“Ok stop.” He said one night as they sat for tea and pulled her into his lap. “You haven’t stopped all day. Let it be.” He grabbed and kissed her fingers as she went to tidy up the stack of papers on the table and secured her body to his by wrapping those outrageously long limbs around her and kissing her neck.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get it all done so we can enjoy the New Year’s Eve party.” She huffed.

“You keep running around like this you won’t make it to the party because you’ll be exhausted and asleep by seven.” He kissed her neck and bit down gently. “Let it be.” He growled as she struggled against him to free her arms so she could just tidy up those papers and be done. “We can deal with the rest after January second.” He would stipulate a time as well if required.

“Fine.” She sighed and gave up, relaxing into him. “I just wanted it clean.” She mumbled taking a sip of her tea when he finally let her go, pushing those papers further away from her, she wasn’t going to budge him on it. He was right of course, she’d been hell bent on getting everything squared away before the end of the year. “I just want to start fresh next year.”

“I get it love, I do, but I also want to see you relax.” He kissed that one spot below her ear that made her weak for him.

“That’s not playing fair.” She sighed, that clever mouth bringing her undone.

“Didn’t say anything about playing fair.” He chuckled. “Ready for the party?”

“I guess, just nervous. It’s your family and we’re leaving the kids there overnight.” She was terrified, first night away with grandpa and she had all sorts of horror stories running through her head.

“The kids will just be upstairs with dad, they’re close and with someone I trust emplicitly.” Stellan and Megan had jumped at the chance to have the kids stay over. “I think Valter is staying as well so Brendan will have someone older to hang with and Oona is staying over to hang out with Lily.” He sipped his tea and squeezed her to him.

“I know I just worry.” She mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

“It’s your job, but don’t, they’ll be fine. It’s not like they have far to come if they need us.” It was handy that his dad lived in the same building a few floors up.

“What time’s the party?”

“Starts at six and goes all night, we can disappear whenever.” He kissed her neck and sucked on her pulse. “You and I are going to have an adult New Years.” He growled, her sinful giggle made his cock twitch, he had a plan, an erotic one.

“Are we now?” She leaned back into him and snaked a hand up the back of his neck and onto his scalp, toying with the soft dusting of hair, he’d let it grow out over the holidays.

“Mmm hmmm. We’re taking this year out with a bang.” He smirked against her skin.

“Oh god Gustaf that was terrible.” She scoffed and laughed at his pun.

“Yeah, but accurate.” He kissed her temple and sipped his tea. “I also booked the cabin for January 4 through 15. A little longer than planned but the few extra days were free with the deal.”

“That sounds so good. The kids will love it. Anything we need to take care of first?” She turned so she was sitting sideways on his lap. The kids weren’t the only one looking forward to some time away. She wanted to decompress with just the six of them, giving the kids time to bond with Gustaf. It was important, for all of them.

“Just clothes and maybe some snacks, board games. There’s lots for them to do outside, but it might be good to have some indoor activities in case we get a storm. We’ll need something for them to do that’s not TV and video games.”

“It’ll be a good break. Give you boys some bonding time.” She kissed him sweetly.

“Yeah.” He smiled and hung his head thinking.

“It bothers you doesn’t it? The dad thing.” Her fingers trailed his scruff and he looked at her, those eyes of perfect blue, she drowned in them every time.

“Not bother, more, different, I just need to get used to the idea.” Her kiss was tender. “It sounds so weird to my ears.” He chuckled. “If that makes any sense at all.”

“I’ll talk to them.” She said gently.

“No.” He shook his head and kissed her hard. “No. Leave it alone. They need to do what feels right for them too love. It’s just not something I ever expected from the boys. Lily I can understand, she never knew Quinn, but the boys, it was a shock, still is.” He tangled his fingers into her hair and kissed her, long and slow. “We need time, that’s all.”

“Just know I’ll talk to them if it’s too much.” She wouldn’t see him wrecked over it, hurt over it.

“No.” He smiled at her. “That’s something we need to figure out for ourselves. The four of us need to be comfortable with it and work through the awkwardness of it.” He kissed her softly. “You can’t bail me out of this one love, and I don’t want you too, not if we’re going to be a family. It’s important to them and to me that we work through it no matter how much it terrifies the hell out of me.”

She studied that handsome face, her finger playing with his scruff. “You’re a good man.” He dropped his head and her hand cupped his cheek. “You are. Look at me.” She kissed him sweetly. “Not many would do what you’ve done for them. It makes you so special.”

“I love you, I love the kids. It’s pretty simple really.”

“Sweet man I know you do, and I hope you also know that we love you too, so much.” He kissed her, the slow devastating kiss of the only man that could render her incoherent.

“My goddess, you and the kids are my world.” He rested his head against hers. “It’s been a good year. Sure there’s been some shitty bits in there, but I met you. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me love.”

“A crazy woman who blubbers in your lap after sex, with four kids in tow.” She chuckled. “Yeah, the best.” Her tone thick with sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t change it for anything.” He grinned. “And I blubber, you fall apart.” He flicked her nose playfully.

“Me either.” Her chuckle light. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“We do.”

“So confident.” She giggled.

“Just calling it how I see it. You make one kick ass mum you realize that right?” He said softly.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She scoffed.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Four happy kids after what they’ve been through, that’s pretty fucking phenomenal.” Yes he knew he’d been a part of it, but she needed to hear it. Their lives had turned to shit in a blink, she had brought them to a place where they were thriving. He tried to keep the nudge out of his tone, the one that told her he wanted kids with her. Not your choice mother fucker, he cautioned silently, leave it there. He would not manipulate her no matter how much he wanted it. “Come on.” He said tapping her thigh and squeezing. “Bed, sleep. We’ve done enough for the day and I have a need to hold you close.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit either.” She said softly as she stood and took the teapot to the sink.

“You did all the hard yards love. Take a moment here and there to look at them, really look at them, they’re happy. Sure they’re still grieving and will continue to, but they’re happy.” He tucked a wave of copper over her ear. “You did that, you should be proud of it. Especially as there are so many other ways it could have turned out. Take the win love, you deserve it.” He kissed her sweetly.

“But you’ve helped where I couldn’t, you give them the missing pieces.” She kissed him tenderly. “Remember that ok?”

“I’ll remember. Bed. Come on.” He took her hand in his and tugged it to get her moving.

They snuggled in bed, Sildie almost passing out as her head hit the pillow. Sleep always took her hard, or maybe that was because she didn’t stop during the day, he thought with a wry smile. He let his mind wander as his fingers stroked her head, lips kissing her brow, breathing in her scent soothed him.

The last few days had settled him once he realized Lily was safe and Ana wasn’t going to get through the front door. His nightmare had scared him to the deepest parts of his soul, the thought of losing Lily, any of the kids had him rethinking his life. It wasn’t just him now, he had a family, responsibilities, that if he fucked up, they would feel the repercussions. He would be better, work at being a better man for them.

Next year would be busy, twelve week shoot starting in February, a premier, and hopefully more work. Maybe he’d take something closer to home, he thought, it caused him physical pain to think about being away from them for so long. They’d figure it out, they’d make it work, it was just going to tear at him.

He was hoping Sildie took the partner offer, she’d worked hard for it and wasn’t going to let anything get in her way if she decided to take it. A nanny, a housekeeper, something to take the load off when he wasn’t here. His mind chewed it over, flitting from one idea to the next until he drifted. His last conscious thought before joining Sildie in the sleep world was of a brood of kids of their own, it was often on his mind. The heart wants what the heart wants.

“Ok Lily, I’m coming. Good grief.” Sildie groaned as Lily screamed her head off through the monitor.

“Uk?” Gustaf mumbled as she pulled away from him.

“Yeah I’ll get her I’m awake now anyway.” She grumbled.

He watched her pull her robe on, the silk hiding all those delicious curves, and grinned into the pillow. The things he was going to do to her tonight, he mused as he listened to Sildie soothe Lily through the monitor.

“Lily bear, my goodness.” She cooed picking up the screaming child.

“Mum mum mum.” She sobbed as she snuggled in and hiccuped, the tiny girl was well beyond it. “Let’s get you cleaned up huh? Then some snuggles?”

“Mum mum mum.” She was a hot mess, tears and snot, that little flushed face.

“Yeah yeah, I’m here.” She sighed as she cleaned her up and dressed her in some warmer pajamas. “Were you cold little lady? Hmmm? Is that what it was? Cold and needed a snuggle?” She sat in the rocker and tucked the blanket in around her as she curled her in.

He hugged his pillow and smiled at the softness in her voice. There was no doubt in his mind she’d be a good mother, if she could only hear herself with Lily, with the boys. Getting her to see it for herself without pushing was another story.

“And you’re not going to drop any hints either asshole. Her body, her decision.” He mumbled to himself. “God I want kids with you.” He whispered into the dark as Sildie started to hum to Lily.

Pulling the covers back he climbed out of bed and found some clean sweats. It was ridiculous to be up at 4 am when they had nowhere to be until 6 that night. Padding out to the kitchen he put the kettle onto boil and dumped the tea leaves in the teapot. After the tea had steeped he poured Sildie a cup and took it in with him to Lily’s room. He smiled at the sight, his heart melting and constricting all at the same time. His two best girls fast asleep in the rocking chair. Placing the tea down he took a throw from the bed and covered Sildie up, propping her head up with a pillow so she wouldn’t get a crick in her neck. He took her tea back to the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

Drinking his tea alone he had something to eat before heading into his workout room to burn off some energy, hopefully he’d be able to nap later in the day. Slipping on the gloves he started out light, letting his body warm up before going a full hour until his muscles screamed at him.

There was no anxiety, no anger, just the ebb and flow of thoughts and ideas. Things he needed to do next year in his career, with the kids, Sildie, his life had changed, dramatically, from single to father of four. He stopped suddenly and tapped the bag lightly with a fist thinking as it swayed.

“I guess this is how you feel my lovely lady.” He murmured to the bag as he thought on that epiphany some more. “Drowning doesn’t seem to cover it.” He muttered. “Single to father of four.” Maybe that was why the whole dad thing was brutally overwhelming him, he thought, maybe it had been too much, too soon. “Single to father of four.” He repeated and continued with his workout.

His thoughts drifted to their future, what he wanted, what he wanted to give them, provide for them. Sure, he wanted kids of their own, and that decision was out of his hands, at least for the moment. The punch landed softly when marriage fluttered into his mind, he still wasn’t sure if she’d want to be married, or if he was even ready to take that plunge again.

His first marriage wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a picnic either with his addiction hanging over them both like a consistent third partner in the relationship. That was half the problem, their relationship was already on shaky ground before it had even had the chance to grow, to flourish. “I’m a different person now.” He muttered, and he was, he was clean and sober for a start. He’d disassociated himself with toxic people, mainly Ana, but there were more. Greedy, lecherous people only interested in him for what he was, his fame, or money, or his family connections. That’s where Sildie was different, she saw him for who he was, fucked up bits and all. Yes, he was different, he’d changed, and had the most incredible woman in his life. “Next year.” He said softly. “Sometime next year I’ll be asking you.” He grinned. He just had to figure out if it was something she wanted. “That’ll give me something to plan while I’m on set.” He chuckled.

Ripping the gloves off he sat for meditation and let his body relax, inviting the calm in. His breathing leveled out from the exertion and the peace flooded into him. This was a peace he’d fought hard for and a peace he was only able to obtain because of Sildie. She hadn’t given it to him directly, she’d given him understanding, support, and compassion. She’d given him a reason to be a better person, a reason to fight his demons after Ana, because if he was being honest, that fucking bitch had almost put him in the bottom of a bottle again. He’d been teetering on the edge when he’d save a few wayward oranges on Sildie’s threshold.

This year had taught him a lot and given him much more. He’d had his bad days, but the good ones had outweighed those dramatically. Most of all he’d stayed sober, he’d stayed clean, and his state of mind was clearer than it had ever been. Calm and peace settled in his mind, and he’d not been at peace with himself like this for a long time, if ever.

Getting to his feet he wiped down the bag and stowed his gloves before heading for a shower. By the time he surfaced in clean sweats and a t shirt, the boys were at the kitchen island for breakfast.

“Where mum?” Brendan asked as he started making pancakes, Gustaf’s lips twitching a smile at his endearment for Sildie.

“She’s curled up with Lily in the rocker. Lily woke up screaming at four this morning.” He yawned, putting the kettle on to heat up for a fresh pot of tea.

“Ouch.” The teen winced.

“Yeah. It was a little rough.” Gustaf chuckled. “Let them sleep, we’ll stick to quiet time this morning ok?” He looked at the twins and they nodded.

“Can we play Harry?” Finn asked as he snatched a hot pancake from the plate.

“Volume down low and we might go for a walk later, get out for a bit if the weather is good, so no grumbles when we do ok?” Both boys nodded, they knew the rules, grumbles meant shortened game time. “What about you B? What are you up to today?”

“Chokladbiskvier, I thought we could take them to grandpa’s tonight.” He said flipping a pancake.

“Only if you want to, there’s no need to. My dad has the party catered.” Gustaf saw the kids eyes light up. “Christmas is for family, New Years is a little more of a party.”

“I want to.” The teen grinned.

“Then have at it. And. Yum.” He elbowed the kid playfully before pouring the water over the tea leaves.

“If I have time I might even make Kladdkaka.” Brendan said on the sly.

“Shit kid you’re killing me.” He groaned.

Once the boys had eaten and off to do their designated quiet time activity, Gustaf settled into the one seat with his book, content to have some down time of his own while his girls slept.

“Mum mum mum.” Lily said softly, tapping Sildie’s face with her tiny hand.

“I’m up.” Sildie said, inhaling sharply. “Hey there little lady.” Lily crashed into her and hugged her tight. Sildie smiled as she kissed the toddlers head. “Shall we get cleaned up and go have some breakfast?” She laughed as Lily bounced, happy and content on her lap with her usual chatter for her dad dad. Her ass was asleep and she smiled at the throw and pillow tucked in around her. Gustaf had obviously come to check on her at some point. With a clean Lily she shuffled out to the kitchen and a wonderful smell of warm cookies. Brendan had been cooking up a storm again and she was so thrilled for the boy, something that brought him so much happiness in a year where things had gone to shit in more ways than one. They’d all come a long way since their parents passed. Maybe Gustaf was right, maybe I am good at this mum thing, she thought and then snorted before kissing Lily’s head. It was only better because of Gustaf, she was drowning before he came along and swept her off her feet, cleaning pasta sauce from her floor.

He loved that look on her face, her body, she’d slept and slept hard, total relaxation. Saving his page he got up and wrapped his arms around her waist as she sat Lily in her high chair with a pancake.

“Morning lovely lady.”

“Morning.” She yawned. “Did you get some more sleep after this one made a ruckus?”

“No, but I’ll take a nap later.” He kissed her temple and let his hand wander under her robe out of the line of sight of the boys. He growled and palmed a breast gently. “Fuck I love the feel of you.” He nipped her ear as her soft moan escaped, that spot below her ear betraying her as he kissed it. “You might want to nap today, you’re gonna need every ounce of energy for what I have planned for you tonight kitten.” He murmured, turning her so she faced him. He gently gripped her chin and kissed her slowly, patiently devouring every inch of her mouth. She was breathless and struck mute by the time he let her up for air.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” Her chest heaved, pussy throbbed, god she wanted him to bend her over the table and fuck her.

“I know.” He kissed her again tenderly. “Sit down I’ll get you some un mangled pancakes.” He chuckled at seeing Lily’s shredded breakfast on her high chair table, the child quite content making an absolute mess of herself and offering crumbs to Sildie.

The man certainly knew how to kiss a woman, she thought as she sat near Lily and watched Gustaf walk to the kitchen. How was it he made her tummy flip just by looking at those thighs, that ass, the roped muscle of his arms, those hands? Because you know what’s under all those clothes, the little devil on her shoulder whispered, and you like what he does to you, all of it. “Yes I do.” She muttered and smiled as Lily tried to feed her some squished pancake.

After Sildie had eaten Gustaf forced her into the one seat with her book. With his hands braced on the arms of the chair he leaned down and kissed her. “I don’t want to see you get out of that chair unless it’s for the bathroom.” He murmured and kissed her again. “Rest love, please. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends these past few days and I don’t want you burning out or getting sick.”

“Only if you rest too.” She trailed a finger down his jaw, over his scruff, along the column of his throat, before fanning out her fingers over his chest. That chest, she thought, all hers and damn it if she didn’t love curling into it, the safety and security she felt when she did.

“I’m going to entertain Lily, which is rest enough.” He kissed her again and left her to read.

She watched him stretch out on the floor, his body caging Lily against the corner of the room, she’d have to climb over him to get out. Looking around the apartment she smiled, the twins quietly figuring out the next puzzle on Harry Potter, Brendan in the kitchen baking, experimenting with whatever flavors he desired, happy. On the last day of the year, there was this surreal calm that had enveloped the apartment and the people in it, and she couldn’t deny that it felt really good. Gustaf was right, the kids were happy, she’d brought them to a place where they could be settled and start their life again. It wasn’t just her though, she thought, as she watched Gustaf. They were happy because of this gorgeous man laying on their floor playing with a child that wasn’t his by blood, but his in every way that mattered. He’d given them a home, a family unit.

I want more days like this, she thought, that was her goal for the coming year, more time with the kids, more time with Gustaf, more peace in their lives. What about making partner, the little voice in her head said softly, what about your dreams, your hopes? If Dana could manage her own firm and three kids with another on the way, I sure as shit can manage the four she handed me, she thought with an indignant huff. She’d thought about what Gustaf had said, get a housekeeper, a nanny, she didn’t have to do it on her own anymore so why make it harder on herself? A housekeeper would be helpful, laundry, pick the kids up, get dinner on, especially if she was working late, and especially when Gustaf was away. The only issue was cost, because she wasn’t going to expect Gustaf to pay for it all. Quinn and Dana had used one but they had dual income, maybe she could get Alice to come work full time? Do the half and half payments with Gustaf? “Now there’s a thought.” She mumbled and kept reading.

She was so engrossed in her book she didn’t notice Gustaf had fallen asleep until Lily started to get upset that dad dad wasn’t playing with her anymore. Sildie climbed out of the chair and lifted the child out from her makeshift compound. She took her to get changed and had Brendan watch her for a moment. Kneeling beside Gustaf she gently lifted his head and placed a pillow under it, grabbing the throw from the couch she covered him enough to keep his torso warm, he was out cold and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

“Sleep love.” She murmured, before collecting Lily from Brendan and sitting with the child to read to her.

He woke up with a tiny child using him as a jungle gym. The place was quiet apart from Lily chattering dad dad, how long had he been out? Those lips he craved pressed against his temple and he snaked an arm around Lily so she didn’t fall as she flopped over his hip with a giggle.

“Time to wake up sleepy head.” Sildie murmured, kissing his temple.

“Wow I bombed.” He yawned rolling to his back.

“You did. It’s nearly four.” Her chuckle was humorous.

“What! Shit!” He huffed. “Didn’t mean to sleep that much.” Scrubbing a hand over his face he sat up and pulled Lily into his arms, the child hugging her dad dad. “Did you get a nap?”

“Sort of, this one crashed out for about two hours. We snuggled.” She helped him to his feet and went to make tea as he wandered into the kitchen, Lily curled in, that wonderful cookie smell still lingering on the air.

“Damn those look good.” He said to Brendan at the sight of the chocolate coated Chokladbiskvier.

“These are for us, I packed up the rest for the party already.” Brendan said quietly.

“I can have one?” Gustaf grinned at him like the big kid he was at heart.

“Yeah.” B chuckled shyly, the teen was still getting used to having free reign of the kitchen.

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled as Brendan pushed the plate over to him. Instead of taking one or two, Gustaf grabbed the entire plate and took it to the table.

“I meant one cookie.” Brendan laughed.

“Ahhh but you didn’t stipulate. I’m taking one. One plate, that just happens to have all the cookies on it.” He bundled the kid into him for a hug. “They look and smell divine. I won’t eat them all I promise.” He chuckled.

“You have to watch this one.” Sildie said to Brendan as she brought the teapot to the table.

“Apparently.” The kid laughed and hugged Gustaf tightly.

“Go take a shower and get cleaned up, make sure you’re packed for tonight.” Sildie said gently. “Finn, Liam, you too. Finish up your game, go pack and get cleaned up.”

“Mum mums cracking the whip.” Gustaf mumbled to Lily, kissing the girls head as he snagged a cookie.

“I heard that.” She scoffed and stared at him, the cheeky twinkle in his eyes made her smirk as she poured the tea.

“Keykey.” Lily chattered to Gustaf, her little hand squeezing in and out of a fist at the cookies.

“You want one?” Gustaf handed her half a cookie and she demolished it. “Chocolate fiend.”

“You good with her while I go shower?” Sildie said sipping her tea.

“Sure.”

“No more cookies.” She chuckled as that little hand reached out for another.

“I don’t blame her they’re really good.” He kissed Lily’s head and pushed the cookies away from her. He needed to stop eating them too or he’d end up the size of a house.

Sildie showered and dressed, hiding a new set of black lace under her dress. It was a simple figure hugging black wrap dress with a plunging neckline and knee high skirt, enough to have her man drooling before she set foot out the door. She topped it off with a string of moonstone beads.

“I’m going to take Lily’s por...” His sentence stopped there as he laid eyes on her, all wrapped up in black velvet.

“Going to take Lily’s what? Where?” She smirked biting her bottom lip wickedly.

He stalked across the floor, those long powerful legs eating up the hardwood flooring. Gripping her chin gently he looked at her, those ice blue eyes finding his from under her lashes. “That’s a very dangerous game to play kitten.” He growled, that low rumble making her pussy ache for him. His kiss was slow and sensual, yet demanding, his thumb gently prying her lip free from between her teeth. “One day you’ll tease me once too often.” He warned. Oh how he wanted it to be tonight, he thought, silently begging her to do it again.

She felt the power ripple off him, his presence unmistakable raw domination and she loved playing this game with him. Would he spank her tonight if she pushed him, she wondered? Her body betrayed her as a shiver skittered over her.

His low chuckle against her lips told her it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Finish getting ready kitten, I need to take Lily’s portable crib upstairs.” He murmured, lips ghosting hers seductively before he devoured her mouth, leaving her breathless. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He purred as he pulled away from her.

He left her dazed as he walked out of the room chuckling. Collecting Lily’s crib and the boys overnight bags he headed to his fathers. This would be a New Years she wouldn’t forget in a hurry, he’d make damn sure of it. A night to leave all the shitty bits of the past twelve months behind them and start fresh tomorrow.

By the time Gustaf came back for a shower the boys were dressed, and Lily had her sunflower dress on. It was a favorite of his, something he’d found on sale before Christmas and bought it on a whim. Simple yellow gingham with embroidered sunflowers along the hem, perfect for his little ray of sunshine.

She couldn’t help it. Biting down on her bottom lip she groaned softly as Gustaf came out of the bedroom a while later in black thigh hugging denim and a crisp white shirt. His eyes met her across the tops of the boys heads and she saw the smirk twitch at his lips, he knew what that shirt did to her. Moving over to her he pocketed his phone and keys before brushing her blood red stained lips with his thumb, prying it from her teeth again. “I’m not beyond putting you over my knee tonight kitten.” He growled before kissing her, slow and erotic as her system trembled. “Mmmm, you like the sound of that don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, because he knew damn well what the thought of it did to her.

“We need to go.” She choked, breathless and wanting.

“Yes we do.” He kissed her sweetly. “Were not done.” He growled as her finger trailed the patch of chest peeking out of his dress shirt. “Nowhere near done.”

“You’re not playing fair.” She murmured.

“All bets are off tonight kitten.” He nipped her ear playfully. “Nothing I do to you tonight will be fair, but you’ll be begging me to do it over and over again.” He added before stepping away and picking Lily up. “Well don’t you look like the little ray of sunshine you are.” He said kissing the girl until she giggled while Sildie attempted to get her hormones under control. Damn he knew how to get her going, and that shirt, she wasn’t going to be able to keep her hands off him.

They locked up the apartment and climbed in the elevator, Liam pushing the button to Stellan’s floor. “I like this dress.” Gustaf whispered, his hand cupping her ass giving it a squeeze.

“Then you’ll love what’s under it.” She purred, those eyes so seductive as he chuckled before kissing her.

“Fuck I love you.” He grinned, kissing her hard as the doors opened, that wicked smile of hers making his cock throb.

The front door was wide open, Megan greeting them and getting the kids settled, Lily was determined to stay with Gustaf for the moment and snuggled into his neck. Sweet girl I know how you feel, Sildie thought, that’s where I want to be snuggled right now too. Truth be told she wanted to get her hands on him and under that shirt, and he smelled so damn good, pure freshly showered male. With a squeeze of Gustaf’s hand she ventured into the kitchen with Brendan and the cookies, Eija wrapping the kid in an excited hug. Here we go, she thought, jump in the deep end, sink or swim with his family, because she couldn’t stay glued to Gustaf every time she was around them.

“You and I need to talk Kladdkaka.” She said lifting the lid of the container holding the cookies, snagging one and biting down. “God yes, and these.”

“About what?” Brendan asked looking slightly puzzled.

“If it’s ok with your mum I want to hire you to bake for my Sunday brunches.” She said digging out another cookie.

“For real?” Brendan’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.

“For reals kid. My brother told me you were good so I took a full Kladdkaka home with me from Christmas Day and fed it to my staff just to be sure. They asked when your first shift was.” Eija chuckled.

“But what about school and hockey?” He looked at Sildie for some help, way out of his depth, but not wanting to blow this chance.

“I think we can work something out.” Eija said gently. “We can do just the Sunday brunches for the moment, get your feet wet, see how you like it, how you go when school starts up. I can send you the order Monday, you send me the list of ingredients I’ll have them delivered. Don’t change anything from what you use now, that’s what makes it yours and special. Same brands, same everything, don’t change a thing. I was thinking you could cook Saturday and then let me know when they’re done and I’ll pick them up.”

“Every Saturday?” Brendan asked and felt his heart sink.

“No, we can do one weekend a month to start. I don’t want it to be too much. And the bonus is I’ll pay you.”

“Like a job?”

“Like a job dude.” She chuckled.

“Sick.” Brendan looked at Sildie. “Can I? Please?” Sildie could see him holding his breath, the excitement at the offer, his body vibrating.

“A few conditions. School comes first, your grades drop, you’re done. Just like hockey.” She said bluntly.

“No argument from me on that one.” Eija said honestly. “Your grades drop kid, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok, I figured that was a given.” Brendan chuckled.

“Eija’s the boss. You don’t get to tell her what you’re baking, she tells you.” Brendan nodded. “Half your pay goes into the bank, no exceptions. The other half you can save and spend on whatever you like, within reason.” She smiled at him. “Other than that if you want to give it a try, then do it. If you want to think about it, then take some time to think on it. It’s a huge deal, be sure it’s what you want before committing to it. That makes it fair for Eija as well.” She watched him chew on it. The kid wasn’t impulsive to start with, but she wanted to be sure he was thinking about things before making a decision.

“Can I think about it Aunty Eija?” He asked quietly.

“Of course.” She elbowed him playfully. “And it’s just Eija, the Aunty thing makes me feel old.” She chuckled.

“Oh, sorry.” He cringed, feeling he fucked up his chances right off the mark.

“It’s fine kid.” She hugged him tightly. “You weren’t to know.”

“I should have asked first.” He mumbled and Sildie ran her fingers through his hair to soothe.

“It’s ok love she’s not angry.” Sildie said softly.

“Live and learn slick. I don’t hate it, it just makes me feel old, like my brother.” She chuckled. “Alex is a dinosaur.” She said loudly, knowing her brother on the other side of the room heard it as his head snapped to her grinning, Brendan couldn’t stop the snort. “That’s just between you and me by the way.” She chuckled and smiled as the kid lightened up.

Valter came past and hijacked their conversation, stealing the teen away so he could help kick Finns ass.

“He’s a good kid.” Eija said when it was just the two of them, handing Sildie some champagne.

“Not for me, I don’t drink.” At least not anymore and especially when there was a gorgeous man in a white dress shirt just across the room making eyes with her. She wanted to be stone cold sober when he fucked her tonight, she wanted to remember it all. “He is. Brendan’s been through a lot, took a lot on when Quinn passed. They’ve never had aunts and uncles, grandparents. It’s all new for them. Your brother gave him back his childhood, and a family.” She said quietly and cracked the seal on a bottle of water, emotions bubbling up.

“Goose is a special guy.” Eija’s honesty struck a chord in Sildie’s heart.

“He sure is.” Sildie said wistfully as she watched Gustaf, that lean body moving so gracefully. His gaze eventually caught hers from across the room, probably sensing she was watching him. Biting down gently on her bottom lip she smirked as the fire lit in his eyes, could feel the growl ripple from him silently, her finger twirling the string of beads around her neck.

He had to check the audible growl, the overwhelming urge to storm over there, strip her down to the black lace he knew was under that plush velvet dress, and spank her until she screamed, begged him to take her.

“I’m glad he met you.” Eija said softly.

“He makes me ridiculously happy, makes the kids happy.” Sildie smiled.

“He deserves someone like you, Sildie. Someone that loves him for who he is, not what his occupation is, or who he can connect them with.” Eija’s voice caught with emotion. She knew her brother had struggled, with addiction, with Ana, with anxiety and anger. He’d finally met someone that loved him for everything he was and more.

“He’s a very sweet soul.”

“I heard about your work party.” Eija said carefully. “Gustaf talked to me, in case anything gets dragged up in the media.” She added seeing the anger flare in Sildie’s eyes, nervous fingers tapping the island countertop.

“Fair enough.” She banked the fury, this whole Ana thing was bigger than her and Gustaf, it touched this entire family, she thought as she looked at Alex. She had to remember that.

“For what it’s worth I’m sorry.” Eija said quietly.

“Eija you have absolutely nothing to apologize to me for. Or like Gustaf likes to tell me, you don’t get to apologize for her. Ever.”

“Well if you need a hand burying the body let me know, I’ll grab the shovel.”

Sildie snorted. “Gustaf was right, we are so alike.”

“Nobody fucks with my brothers, especially Goose. He’s been through too much.” Eija was scrappy, and that’s what Sildie liked about her. She spoke her mind, told it to you straight, no bullshit, and no fucks given if it hurt your feelings. And she was fiercely protecting of her brothers, especially Gustaf. “Is your friend going to be ok?” She asked. Sensitive and emotional under it all, but fierce. “The lawyer?”

“I don’t know, the last I heard from Lucas she was out on bail, I don’t know when or if a court date has been set yet with all the holidays. I’m hoping it’s just a quick hearing and he can move on.”

“Will you keep me in the loop?” She asked.

“Sure, as much as I can. Lucas can’t tell me much as it’s an ongoing investigation, but if I hear anything I can text you.” She studied Eija. “You want to see her go down in court don’t you?”

“You bet your fine ass I do.” Her tone full of fire. “I want to see her fucking face when karma pays that bitch a visit.”

“No outbursts, no contact, no disruptions. If you do it could hurt Lucas and potentially drag Gustaf and yourself into the middle of it.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely fucking right.” She sighed. “Damn it.”

“That’s what she’ll be trying to do. She wants a reaction, don’t give her one. Promise me Eija, or you’ll get no updates from me.” Eija could see she wasn’t fucking around. “It can get much worse from here, for you, Gustaf, me, my kids, I’m trying to stop that from happening.” Sildie needed to reign Eija in, if not things could get complicated.

“I promise. I want to know what’s going on but yeah, I get what you’re saying.” She looked at Sildie and saw the fear her brother had mentioned. “She won’t get near your kids Sildie. Goose won’t allow it.”

“I know, I’m more worried about what it’ll do to him.” She said softly, the terrified look in his eyes that morning he’d had the nightmare haunted her. “I can’t watch her shit storm take that peace he’s fought so hard for from him too.” Sildie looked at her and had to say it, just to be absolutely clear. “Don’t make me lawyer you. Because I’ll do it to protect those I love Eija, including you, especially your brother. He’s gone through too much to carve that bitch out of his soul, I don’t want this thrown in his face more than it has to be.” Memories of Gustaf burning the notebook flittered into her mind, the baby bootie.

“I don’t want this to hurt my brother either. You have my word, I’ll behave. I just want to see her go down.” Eija promised.

“I’ll see what I can do when or if it goes to trial. At the moment it’s just between Ana and Lucas. With a bit of luck we’ll be left out of it.” Wishful thinking, Sildie thought, but she had to hold onto something.

“Sounds good to me. Goose was right, you’re scary as fuck when the lawyer comes out.” Eija grinned.

“Oh, I can be scarier.” Sildie stated bluntly. “Gustaf knows just how scary.” She added thinking back to the night in his workout room where he’d spiraled and she’d let him have it.

“No doubt.” The muttered reply making Sildie smirk.

He watched her as she spoke to his sister, happy that they seemed to get along, admired Sildie for having the balls to clear the air with Eija on Christmas Day, that hadn’t been easy. His woman in black velvet, curves on full display, the way her fingers toyed with that damn necklace. She caught him staring, the shy smile with a hint of the erotic goddess he knew was under it all.

“You’re so fucking gone over her.” Bill snorted, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“Yeah.” His goofy grin said it all, totally smitten. “And this one.” He added, as he picked Lily up when she wandered over to grab him by the leg. “My Lily bear.”

“She’s the cutest thing.” Alex said, coming over to stand with them. Lily eyed him and snuggled into her dad dad, she still wasn’t too sure of the oldest brother. She would be with time, Alex was just never home long enough for her to get used to him.

Sildie watched as Gustaf put Lily down, Oona waddling over and grabbing his leg, the two girls dancing and bopping at his feet. Her heart melted as he took a hold of Sam’s three month old, his hands dwarfing the baby, but it was his face that sucker punched her. Gustaf sat and cradled the baby, joy and adoration pouring from him. Did she want that with him, could she give that to him, she wondered, as the all familiar questions kept repeating in her mind like a cracked record?

They spent the early part of the evening apart, Sildie was determined not to hang on Gustaf like a lost puppy. She was a lawyer damnit and this was just his family. She had to get used to being around them, with them, and without Gustaf as a safety net. There would be times he would be away and they would visit, and she wanted to be comfortable visiting them, with or without the kids.

She smiled as Alex walked over and put Eija in a loving headlock, she missed that playfulness you could only get with a sibling. The both of them keeping her entertained and helping her to relax. Alex was reliving an exceptionally funny story when Gustaf caught her eye, that smoldering look that had her almost crossing her legs as her pussy throbbed. His gaze raked over her body, undressing her as it went, the heat rising in her. How did he do that, she wondered? Not to be outdone she nibbled on her bottom lip and saw the desire flash in his stare. Running her tongue over her lips she swore she heard his groan before he whipped out his phone. A moment later her text tone went off.

You’re playing a dangerous game kitten, unless you’re begging me to put you over my knee and spank you with an audience you need to stop.

She could practically hear the growl as the words leapt off her screen. Looking at him from under her lashes she bit her lip again and twirled a finger around the moonstone beads.

Promise?

She texted back and grinned wickedly.

He had to check the groan at her words, his cock twitching, he wasn’t going to make it until midnight if she kept up with her current sinful teasing, he was uncomfortably hard in his jeans as it was. Trying to have a conversation with his family while hiding a massive boner was difficult. Sitting on the arm chair he half tuned into the conversation, half watched his seductive goddess move through the room. Those curves, that mane of silk copper, those cherry red lips he wanted around his cock. The sight of her was seduction enough.

He watched her talk with his father, the slight shift in her emotions clear to him, but not anyone else. She was trying so hard to put her grief behind her and have a good night, making the effort to get to know his family where most others hadn’t bothered to take the time. First rule of the new year, he thought, love this woman with every part of my soul, every second of every day, show her how incredible she is.

“I’m sorry I upset you the other day.” Stellan said gently as he grabbed Sildie another water.

“You didn’t. I’m still processing a lot of grief, it gets in the way sometimes. If anything I’m the one that should be apologizing for running out of there so quickly, it was rude.” She’d felt bad after he’d helped them move the display cabinet that day.

“No need. You’re still finding your feet after the rug was ripped out from under you. It couldn’t have been easy with four kids on top of it.” Stellan watched her carefully, he didn’t want to dive into it too much and have her freak out.

“It’s no picnic.” She said softly.

“It’ll settle, give it time, lean on Gustaf, on us. We’ll do everything we can to make things easier on you and the kids, especially when Gustaf’s away. Anytime, day or night, Megan and I are just a short elevator ride away and she works from home most of the time.”

“Thank you.”

“I know Gustaf’s said it and I’ll say it too, you’re not alone anymore Sildie. This family sticks together, we help each other out. Sure we bicker and fight, but when we need to we rally, no questions, no judgement.” Stellan pulled Megan over for a kiss before they settled into a conversation about safer topics, his statement resonating with her, family, support, love.

She could see the pride Stellan had for his kids, what they’d accomplished, the lives each one of them had carved out for themselves. In the short time she’d been with his family, Gustaf resembled Stellan the most. That same warmth and kindness she felt with Gustaf she felt from Stellan, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. As they talked and each sibling drifted in and out of the conversation she realized how much she’d missed out on growing up, how much she missed her brother, her parents. The slow seduction from across the room throughout the night was tantalizing. Those subtle suggestive looks, the nibble of her bottom lip, the flirtatious knowing smirk he’d give her as he blatantly undressed her with his eyes. It wasn’t until 11:30 and the younger kids had gone to bed, that Gustaf stole her away from talking to his father to dance, Stellan grinning as Gustaf waltzed her around the room.

“It’s a promise kitten.” He growled at her ear as he pulled her close and swayed, the soft jazz filling the apartment. “The things I’m going to do to you.” He dipped her slowly and kissed her throat. “I should punish you for tormenting me from across the room too.” His tone was that seductive timbre that made her pussy throb. “My sex kitten in black velvet.”

She bit down on her bottom lip to push the issue and he gripped it hard, borderline painful. It always amazed her at how he managed to skate that line between pleasure and pain so deftly. Still dancing he kissed her, slow, sensual, devouring. “Don’t push me kitten.” He purred, his lips ghosting hers as he let her chin go, fingers trailing her body to wrap around hers. “You may get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“God I hope so.” She purred, those ruby red painted lips kissing that one spot on his neck that turned him to mush. “I want to feel you daddy.” She whispered.

“We’re leaving the minute after the new year.” He dipped her again. “Because I can’t wait much longer to have you. Dancing and teasing is one thing, but I want you bound and begging.” He kissed her, tongue teasing hers. “And you will be begging.”

“You keep kissing me like that and we’re not going to make it home.” She muttered as he held her close. His low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest.

“You’ll make it home, I don’t want an audience when I fuck you slowly until you scream my name.” He felt the shiver ripple through her body, now doubt in his mind she’d be wet for him. “I’m going to take my time with you, tie you up, take you apart an orgasm at a time.” His kiss was slow and sinful and if he kept talking to her like this she was going to orgasm right in the middle of the party. “Mmm you like the sound of that don’t you kitten?”

“You know I do.” Her gaze found his, the seductive blue looking back.

“Just say the word and we’ll go.” He smirked, knowing she’d want to dance some more and see midnight, time was it’s own seduction. He twirled her around the room, content to feel her let go and have fun. This was the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen her.

“I see where you get your jazz gene from.” She chuckled, she had to change the topic or she’d embarrass herself. “Your dad has good taste in music, that’s what we’re were talking about before you whisked me away.” She laughed as he dipped her low.

“Fuck me I love that laugh.” He murmured, his lips grazing her temple as he grinned like a fool. “Dad and I are a lot alike.”

“You are. You have the same smile.” She said softly and kissed those lips she craved. “The same kindhearted soul.” He looked at her, eyes drowning in hers.

“It takes like souls to see each other.” He tucked a wave of copper behind her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweet man.”

Gustaf closed his eyes and swayed with her, the joy and happiness on her face as he held her close, the tender touches as they talked and got lost in each other. He was, as Bill had put it, gone over her, so completely. This was what he wanted of for her, the happy bubble, he’d see she got more of it.

“My Sildie.” He murmured as the countdown to midnight started. “You’re the best thing to come into my life.” He rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for walking into mine, into ours, you are my everything love.” She felt so at peace with him, the world on the cusp of a new year, new beginnings, a fresh start. As the clock chimed midnight he kissed her, slow and long, a silent promise that he would take care of her, take care of the kids, become the family he so desperately wanted with her, and they so desperately needed from him.

“Sweet man, I love you.” She whispered, before deepening the kiss. She wanted him, this, family, the feeling of being loved for who she was, baggage and all.

“I love you too.” He squeezed her tightly and danced her around the room. “Now those are the best first words of the new year.” He chuckled and dipped her, that laugh making him deliriously happy.

“There’s so much love in this room.” She said softly as they swayed, the slower song drifting them along with it.

“As family should be love.” He smiled kissing her head and breathing in her scent.

“Thank you.” She murmured.

“What for?”

“For giving me a family.” She whispered and closed her eyes, the stray tears falling as he danced with her cheek to cheek.

“Don’t cry love.” He kissed each cheek, the saltiness of her tears making his heart break.

“Sorry, they’re mostly happy tears.” She chuckled.

“It’s ok to miss them love.” He murmured kissing her tenderly. She was happy, yes, but the undercurrent of grief made things more difficult for her.

“I just hate when it bubbles up like this.”

“Better it bubbling up than holding it in.” He said gently, which he knew she did on a daily basis. She held so much of it in it was a wonder she could hold it together at all, he’d be a wreck. “Talk to me love.” He leaned back slightly as they continued to dance so he could see her face. “It’s New Year’s Eve, air out the mental laundry.” Her laugh was more a snort.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She scoffed

“Try.” He whispered before dipping her low.

“It sounds silly.” And she wasn’t sure of what his reaction would be.

“So let it sound silly.”

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #shattered lives #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction

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unibrowzz · 4 years ago

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Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s.

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang.

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear.

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone. Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible. Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery. And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above,

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner. And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song. I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead. Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland

Artist: Céline Dion

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15. I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th

#Eurovision #mod's winner reviews #posting now because the tag will be CHAOS come 7 lmao #esc winners

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

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Baby Bat

Wing Chart

[Wing AU]

[UK Tour]

some Momward anyone? ;)

TW: Broken bones, vomit

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

“She’s gonna get pummeled into the ground…”

“I told her not to do it…”

“She thinks she’s showing off…”

The ridicule of the flock was soon cut off by introductions given by an eager cardinal. He flapped his bright red wings, gesturing with one arm to a feathered man on his left.

“On my right we have Zeke of the peregrine falcons!” He shouted. “And on my left we have Joan of the Honduran bats!”

Joan flicked her ears. Her nerves were running wild. She had never cockfought before, but she was so desperate to impress the others that she threw herself into the opportunity when it presented itself.

“Wings up, talons ready, FIGHT!”

Joan pumped her wings down and shot into the air. With such a large wingspan, she was able to get herself rather high, but peregrine falcons were known for their speed and it wasn’t long before Zeke caught up to her. He reared back and then slammed one of his wings into Joan’s stomach.

For a moment, Joan is falling. Fast.

She flapped her useless wings and managed to catch herself, but Zeke was already upon her again. She twisted upwards and flew away rather than fighting.

The crowd below her was getting antsy. They started to hate her even more. She needed to fight back.

Whirling around, Joan’s attempted strike was countered with a heavy blow to her head.

Joan plummeted.

She fell at an incline, too dizzy to catch herself. When she hit the ground wing-first, there’s a horrible CRUNCH, but her body continued to go forward, ripping off skin and fur in the process. When she finally rolled to a halt, there’s a large patch of white fur missing, leaving an ugly bare spot. Blood dyes raw, pale flesh red, only adding to the eyesore.

What’s worse? She was sprawled out right in front of her flock.

Joan didn’t dare look at them. She tried to push herself up, tried to shake off the pain, but then a boot drove into her stomach and she collapsed onto her throbbing wing. Her spine arched and she couldn’t choke back the cry of pain that wormed out of her throat.

From above her, Zeke smirks as he rolls her over. He grabs onto her wounded wing and lifts her up before laughing.

“This was too easy.” He said.

“It looks like we have a winner!” Warbled the cardinal.

The crowd parted soon after, as watching a bat moan and groan on the street wasn’t that fun. Joan’s heavy wings kept her grounded no matter how hard she tried to stand up. Her flock weren’t in any hurry to help her.

“You did, uhh, great!” Maria said, which only made Joan feel worse.

“Don’t…lie to me,” The bat grunted. She pulled away and tried to walk on her own, but the pain in her wing was too severe. Her small body just couldn’t support itself anymore. Aragon swooped in before she could break her nose on the pavement when she fell forward.

“Easy,” The dragon chided lightly, “Your wing is broken, Joan. Don’t push yourself.”

Almost on cue, the bones shift beneath her skin. Joan’s stomach bubbled in warning.

“I-I think I’m gonna-”

She definitely was.

Nearby avians either snicker in amusement or scoff in disgust when the bat- just a bat. just a useless bat. just a stupid fucking bat- dropped down to her knees, throwing up all over the street. Joan cringed as some of her dinner splashed out onto her hands and knees, which makes her stomach roil like a nest full of restless snakes. She vomited again.

Aragon, not phased by the mess Joan was making, crouched down next to her and began to rub her back gently, but made sure to stay away from the injured area. She coiled one arm around Joan’s heaving stomach to support her in case she passed out, while also brushing her hair out of the way. Howard was making herself useful unfurling her huge pink wings and flaring them at anyone who stared for too long. The other simply stood around, not really caring.

“You’re okay, love, you’re okay,” Aragon murmured in that loving, motherly voice of hers. The one that made Joan’s heart leap every time she heard it. The one that Joan didn’t think she deserved. “You’re going to be okay. Just get it out. Then we’ll go home and get you all better, alright?”

Thank god broken wings weren’t something that required medical attention. Avians knew how to treat wounded wings, and just going home and being out of eyesight would make Joan feel a tiny bit better.

The journey back to the house was torturous. Joan insisted on walking on her own, but it came to a point where she was silently sobbing in agony. Her flock saw the way her shoulders shook as she staggered and struggled forward. Eventually, Aragon had to butt in, and she did so by scooping Joan up into her arms. The bat- the stupid, useless, good-for-nothing bat- squealed in alarm, but couldn’t do much in her exhausted, pained state. Her dewclaws latched onto Aragon’s shoulders and held tight.

Much to Joan’s dismay, she was taken to the queen’s house, but decided to keep her mouth shut as she’s carried into the bathroom and set on the rim of the tub. She winced when Aragon prodded her wing, but tried not to move.

“You busted it pretty badly, love,” Aragon said softly. “I’m more worried about that, though.” She nods at the bare patch. “Hold still, okay? I’m going to clean it.”

Joan struggled not to cry out in pain when an antiseptic-soaked rag was pressed to the wounded area. The sting morphed into clarity- something she told herself she deserved for being so pathetic and worthless. It gave her something to grasp onto.

“Shh, shh,” Aragon murmured.

Apparently, she hadn’t been trying hard enough to hold herself together because an unbidden whimper escaped her throat. She choked back another noise before it could come free.

“There. I’m done, darling. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. Could the dragon not see how terrible the bat she was taking care of was? How it was a waste of time? How she was a lost cause?

“Your fur might take awhile to grow back. You don’t have to play for the show tomorrow if you don’t want to. We all understand.”

“No, I’m…I’m fine.” Joan choked out.

Aragon frowned a little, but nodded.

“I’m going to put a splint on your wing. Just hold still for me, love.”

———

Joan didn’t take the painkillers she was given. Not that they would help. No, she wallowed in the pain until it became a deep, slicing-like sensation that pounded so viciously it had her running to the bathroom again in the middle of the night.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. She had passed out on the couch from the pain, however her dreams were tainted with the sound of bones crunching and ripping free from wings. It wasn’t her body that was being mauled, though. It was Jane, it was Howard, it was Anne, it was Aragon all being bent into grotesque positions because she hadn’t been able to protect them. When they called out to her, asked her why she didn’t help them, she could not answer.

Joan woke up in tears. If it was from the night terror or the agony radiating in her back, she didn’t know.

Sleep was impossible after that. If it wasn’t the pain, then it was the discomfort of the splint bound to her wing. If it wasn’t the splint, then it was the fear of seeing her mind create images of her dear flock dying brutally. If it wasn’t the fear, then it was the deep-seeded hatred she had for herself.

Eventually, she had enough of tossing and turning and putting pressure on her back. She went to get a drink of water, but now she was in the bathroom, coughing and wheezing and sputtering. Her body was wracked in shivers, but sweat rolled down her face. God, she felt miserable, but she must have looked even more pathetic now.

When she raised her head, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Howard at the doorway. Right, her bedroom was nearby. The worried look on her face made Joan’s stomach twist in guilt and she had to turn away to cough up more bile. When the flow of stomach acid stopped lurching up her throat, she set her head in her folded arms on the toilet seat.

“How long have you been like this, kiddo?” Howard asked, taking a step inside.

“Nnng…” Joan moaned, flushing the toilet before teetering backwards against the wall. Tears pricked in her eyes when she practically crushed her wing against her body and the plaster. Howard noticed and clucked sympathetically.

“Done?” Howard asked.

“I-I think.” Joan panted. She tried to stand up, but her legs were weak and Howard had to steady her.

“Easy, kid,” The dragon said, “Easy. I’ve got you. Let’s take this slow, okay? I won’t let you fall.”

Getting back over to the couch took a lot longer than it should have, but, eventually, Joan collapsed down into the soft cushions. She winces when her wing throbbed again.

“Did you take the painkillers? I thought they would last at least until morn…” Howard’s eyes widened when Joan shamefully shook her head. “You didn’t take them? At all?”

This time the bat- who needed to be shot down- nodded.

“Oh, honey,” Howard murmured. She moves closer and runs her fingers through Joan’s hair because she knew she liked that almost as much as when her ears or wings were stroked, but Howard knew better than to touch her wings right now. “Why? They were gonna make you feel better.”

Joan shrugged uselessly. She can’t get her stupid mouth open to answer or reply to relieve Howard’s concern.

“Sweetheart,” Howard opened a wing around Joan’s smaller body. “Is something wrong? Aside from your injury of course. You can tell me, you know?”

Suddenly, the dam Joan had spent so long trying to subdue feels as though it is about to burst. Her breath hitched and her eyes stung horribly and she felt more panic welling up. She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly losing control of herself like this, but Howard was looking at her so softly and the gentle touch around her is the sweetest thing she had ever felt and she had a sudden, awful, terrible urge to wrap her arms and wings around Howard- to be wrapped up, to be held.

“Joan? Hey, honey, are you okay?”

That does it.

Joan can’t even attempt to stop the tears that are pouring out, the hiccup that escaped her lips or her face from crumpling horrendously. All she can do is swallow down the sobs as best she can, hunch forward until she’s doubled over her knees, and shield her body with her wings to hide her face that is steadily flushing red from embarrassment.

“I…s-sorry, Katherine....I…”

It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic. She can’t even get the sentence out without choking on her rapidly hitching breaths. So she snaps her mouth shut- the last thing she wants is to start sobbing for real.

Minutes passed in silence as she struggled to swallow down her emotions to no avail, gasping for breath and fighting for composure. What made the situation worse is the pure, unadulterated shock she can feel radiating from Howard. And most likely the disgust- Howard is surely looking for a way to escape, Joan thinks, she wouldn’t want to be stuck with herself either. With a sniveling, pathetic excuse for a friend, a lady in waiting, an avian, a human being-

A gentle hand grabs her uninjured wing and slowly pulls it away from her face. Joan can hardly make out Howard’s worried, heartbroken expression through the blurriness of tears before she feels herself being tugged forwards, an arm wrapping around her back and another hand cupping the back of her head. They don’t stop pulling until Joan’s face is nestled snugly into Howard’s chest- forcing Joan’s brain to a stuttering stop. For a moment, she feels too startled to even cry. But then the warm, protective wings wrap her up and she’s whimpering all over again.

Never. Never in a million years did she ever think anything like this would happen- that her ex-queen would wrap her up so tenderly, holding on gently like she was an actual baby bat, precious and breakable.

It’s--

It’s too much. Too overwhelming, yet it's everything she’s ever dreamed of. Joan wanted to shy away from the touch, push Howard to the ground and yell at her and beat her into a bloody pulp with her wings and claws that should have been able to do lots of damage, make her hate Joan even more than she probably already does (like Joan deserved). At the same time, however, she wanted to hold on tightly and never let go, wanted to be cradled like this forever.

She settled for shakily returning the embrace with one wing, holding on with her weak dewclaws, while her trembling hands twisted themselves up in Howard’s nightshirt. Her ears fold back and she can’t stop her shoulders from tensing and shaking just as hard as her hands. Tears continued to leak out, but she stayed silent. She felt like she was going to shake apart in this sweet hold, especially when Howard began to speak ever so gently in her ear.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. You’ll be okay, Joan.” Her voice was so soothing and velvety, and it sends shivers down Joan’s spine.

“I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

Joan felt truly ruined.

She’s wanted to hear those words for so long. She’s wanted to be held like this all her life. She can’t. It’s too much. And, before she can stop it, an ugly, pained sound a kicked puppy would make escapes her throat, somewhere in between a whimper and a sob. She felt Howard stiffen a little and expected her to pull away. To push Joan off of her, tell her what a nuisance she’s surely being, beat her over the head with her wings until her skull cracks open and her pathetic excuse for a life finally ends.

But instead, she was squeezed tighter and her back was rubbed with more confidence. It breaks what little is left of her composure and the next moment, Joan is outright sobbing.

Her cries felt like they were being ripped out of her body, leaving her absolutely mortified with embarrassment. She can’t remember the last time she cried this hard and it most certainly had never been in the vicinity of another person, definitely not a queen. She felt terrible for desperately clutching Howard to her, for staining her clothes with tears and god know what else. For burdening her with this, when Joan was only suffering what she deserved, what she brought upon herself--but she can’t find the strength to stop.

Her shoulders jumped violently with every gasping sob and she tried to calm down, to make herself quiet so she won’t wake up the rest of the flock, but it’s so hard when she felt so raw. It doesn’t help that Howard was rocking her, shushing her so gently and practically cooing in her ear, making her feel cared for…and loved.

She cried for what felt like hours and, after a while, her breaths were no longer heaving, but stuttering. The tears were still flowing but it's slower now, too.

Exhaustion set deep into her muscles and she could only really lean against Howard because her wings have gone numb and they’re too heavy to move

“Feeling a little better?” Howard asked softly, so softly.

Joan shrugged a little, snuggling closer because she did not want to be released. Not yet. The fear was still present, as was the dull pain and the raging hatred.

“I-I just…” She screwed her eyes shut. Oh god, the tears are coming again. “Kat, I hate myself so f-fucking much.” Her voice cracked horribly on the swear and her face turned impossibly red. “I-I don’t know why. B-but ever since we were reincarnated, I just- I can’t stand myself, Kat. I’m so useless. I can’t even work my wings properly, and don’t even get me started on how I fantasize about removing them, pulling them out, breaking them beyond repair-“ She gasped sharply, choking for a moment and jerking out of the embrace. “Oh my god, Kat, I’m such a freak. I’m so sick.”

Her hands flew to the crown of her head as she doubled over, pulling hard on her hair. Immediately, Howard jumped into action, easing her grip open and taking her hands in her own.

“Breathe, love, breathe. In and out. Here, follow me, okay?” Howard took in a deep, exaggerated breath, but the poor little bat in front of her struggled.

Joan shook her head, pulling her wings close around herself.

“I-I can’t.” She whimpered. “H-hold me again. Hold me, Kat, p-please.” Her words come out in pained gasps.

Howard doesn’t hesitate. She pulled Joan all the way into her lap, wrapping her back up in her wings. The poor bat- the useless useless useless little bat with wings too big for her emaciated, pathetic little body- was shaking so violently in her arms.

“Joan, I need you to try to breathe. Please, honey. You’re going to pass out if you don’t.”

Oh how she hoped she passed out. She hoped she suffocated and finally fucking died. For good.

But the pain from oxygen starvation became too much and Joan’s body forced her to take in a sharp breath. She didn’t want to do it again, but then Howard praised her and it sent her head spinning because the love she was being spoken with was all she ever wanted.

“That’s very good, baby, that’s so good.” Howard murmured and there’s a warm smile on her lips. “Can you do it again for me?”

Joan listened this time, only because she liked the tone she was being spoken to with.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked. Her throat strained when she spoke. Her lungs needed more air, but she just wanted to apologize. “I-I didn’t…”

“Shh,” Howard soothed, “We can talk later, okay? Or tomorrow morning. For now, just breathe. Sleep, if you need to. You must be exhausted.”

She was. She really, really was.

“P-promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” She stuttered weakly.

Howard kissed the top of her head before saying, “I promise, little bat.”

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thyra279 · 5 years ago

Text

High Hopes

For Day 4 of the Good Omens Celebration 2020.

Prompts: “Force” and “fruit” (this one got away with me but I’m gonna post it here for consistency as well as on Ao3.

On a warm autumn's day in 2005, Aziraphale's mobile phone rang out the same jarring electronic jingle 72 times before he managed to locate it behind an old bookcase full of A Breefe History of Northern Shropshire, vol. 1-281. Pushing the bookcase aside, he dusted off the little black-and-white screen and fixed it with a hard stare. The mobile, which had been firing off its jingles increasingly furiously, grew soft and mellow on the 73th ring, and Aziraphale turned his attention to the Nokia's caller.

"Hullo, Crowley. You know, I never should have let you talk to into getting me this portable telephone, it keeps moving about and hiding itself in the-"

"Aziraphale." Oh. Crowley's voice sounded harsh, which wasn't unusual, but also very noticeably strained, which was.

"Are you alright, dear?"

"Uhhrm…"

"Crowley? Whatever's the matter?"

"I've… I've been arrested."

"Have you, now?" Aziraphale let out a relieved little chuckle and sat down in his favourite chair. It was nothing the demon hadn't tried before. Keep at shadowy, nefarious business long enough, and it was bound to happen. He'd lost count of how often Crowley had found himself jumbled up with the police.[1]

Aziraphale himself had found himself come into too close contact with London's various police forces a few times since their invention. He usually encountered the Mets, though he had a soft spot for The City of London Police and carried out his substitute demonic temptations within their Square Mile if he could help it. Politicians and bankers were soft targets. Besides, the City Police always served up bourbon biscuits during their questioning. The angel idly wondered if Crowley had been served up any biscuity treats during his questioning and before being hit with an embarrassing pinch of jealousy.

"When'll you be done, do you reckon? You could come over for wine and commiserations later, perhaps? I think a Chateau Cheval should do quite nicely." He lifted a hand to play with the phone cable, then remembered it wasn't there. "…Bring some biscuits."

"It'saaah. It's a little more complicated than that, I'm afraid."

"What's the problem?"

"Nfffhhh well, I've been in here for coming up two weeks for starters." Aziraphale sat up.

"Crowley, are you- are you in jail?"

"I, uh. Yeah."

"Well, get out of there!"

"Told you it was complicated."

"Do you need me to, ah, to come and get you?"

There was an interesting kind of silence at the other end. "Angel, are you offering to come and break me out of jail?"

"I'm an angel, I do not break anyone out of jails," Aziraphale deadpanned with the practice of several centuries. "It would be a rescue."

"Well, it won't work. I mean, it would work. I could easily get out of here, that's not the issue. Wouldn't solve the actual problem."

"What is the problem then?"

"It's erhhh…"

Aziraphale shifted in his seat, growing a little impatient. "Where are you? What happened?"

The demon sighed. "I'm at Dartmoor Prison. Got arrested near Torquay."

"What were you doing in Cornwall of all places?"

"I… well. I've got a piece of land near Torquay, in a nice deserted place. Thought it'd be out of the way enough. It's quite a big piece of land, really. Massive, actually."

The angel couldn't suppress another tut. "What would you need a massive piece of land for, Crowley?"

"I, ah, I built a farm." Aziraphale could sense the demon's embarrassment pulsing down the line. He himself was caught entirely off guard at the aggressively urbanite yuppie's confession, but tried to sound accepting.

"Oh. Right. What do you do with it, as it were?"

"I grow… things."

"Yes, well-"

"Mainly weed."

"…What?"

"Marijuana, Angel."

"Yes, I know what weed is, thank you." For the second time, Aziraphale felt a rush of relief. "That's alright, then, isn't it? I'm sure growing illegal cannabis is a perfectly acceptable demonic activity. I assume that's why you were arrested?"

"Yup." For a moment, a hint of pride entered the demon's voice. "I've grown lots of it. Don't know if you saw the newspapers last Monday? Apparently, there was quite a big buzz about it being the second largest marijuana plant ever discovered in the UK?"

"Oh, yes," Aziraphale crooned. He hadn't so much as looked at an earthly newspaper for several months, but he didn't like to dampen the demon's (evil) spirits when he was already down. "It all sounded terribly impressive."

"Hnghyeah, well. The coppers said so themselves, actually. They only got a preliminary sweep of the place done, though, before I set my lawyers on them. We've been fighting their warrant. It's been good fun, actually, lots of frustrations all around. Easy job for my side, you know. And we always get bonus points on our job performance for getting lawyers involved. You know I can really use the, erh, goodwill this'll generate downstairs, it'll sort me out for the next few years."

Aziraphale nodded absentmindedly, which Crowley seemed to understand.

"Unfortunately, even my bastard lawyers and enough money to bribe a small state haven't been able to get the judge to drop the warrant. So according to the lawyers, Cornwall's righteous police force, narcotics division, will be able to do a full sweep of the farm some time the day after tomorrow."

"And why exactly is that a problem?" The angel offered when Crowley fell quiet. He was met with a great, heaving sigh loud enough to hear through the telephone line.

"The thing is." The demon drew a breath, then let it out again through hissing teeth. "The thing is. The weed farm's a front."

"…What?"

Crowley sounded flustered now, voice straining again with every word. "It's a front. The cannabis. 'S a cover."

"Why would you… what were you… what in Heaven's name are you doing that's so terrible that you thought a cannabis plantation would serve as an appropriate cover-up, Crowley?"

"Well, well hnghfff. Look, I can't tell you over the phone, I've got a reputation to maintain, alright? Anthony J. Crowley's been going strong since the war, and, and- don’t really want to let him go. Just. Just go out there tomorrow – I know you've got nothing on, don't even start – and get rid of the evidence for me. No, nah, leave the weed crops. But there's a barn. A green barn in the middle of it all. Burn it, please. Maybe don't look inside it, but – eurgh – s'fine if you have to. I don't care how you do it, but get rid of everything in there."

Aziraphale hesitated, more shaken by Crowley than he'd been for a good fifty years.

"I'm, erh, I don't really know, Crowley, I think you should tell me-"

"Aziraphale, please. Please, Angel." Crowley never begged.

"Oh. Oh, alright then." There was a rush of demonic relief down the phone.

"Tha-"

"Don't."

"Look, I'll make it up to you, alright. Whatever you want. Tell you what, I'll buy you sushi at that stuck-up little Japanese place you like so much, every bloody month for the next decade. If you want."

"Alright," Aziraphale huffed.

The demon started to sound slightly more like himself. "I'll throw in a good sake and dessert too if you promise never to bring this up ever again."

"I'll have to see for myself how bad this is, Crowley, before I make good on that promise."

"Fair, that's fair. Just please, Angel, 's no big deal, okay? It was just a little lapse of judgement. Here's how to get to the barn…"

And so, the very next day, the Principality found himself wandering down a dirt track in Cornwall, sore and irritable after hours on overnight public transport and more nervous than he'd care to admit at what he might have agreed to. The stench of the marijuana greeted him long before the greenhouses even became visible. A single police car was parked further down the track at the main entrance to the farm, so on reaching the edge of it, he looked casually left and right before dipping below the police tape. No one noticed him, and he quickly disappeared between row after endless row of huts and greenhouses.

The place was like a labyrinth – literally – and he had to rely on Crowley's instructions to find its centre. The air hummed with the insistent song of thousands of heat lamps. Aziraphale was beginning to suspect that he wasn't entirely immune to the charming waft of cannabis in the hot air around him when suddenly, there it was, a singular old green barn. It was singing at him. Aziraphale wasn't entirely certain he wasn't hallucinating it, but it felt sturdy enough beneath his grasp when he tore the heavy padlock away from the door. The door rattled irately at him, but at least the barn stopped singing.

He hesitated, one hand on the door. Crowley had always taken care, he suspected, to hide the darker sides of his demonic activities from him. He wasn't at all sure he wanted to be privy to them. Unbidden scenes of blood and chains and fires and screams sidled into his mind, finally breaking through the defences he'd constructed as soon as he'd put down the phone last night. He didn't want to know. And yet, he'd promised. He was an angel, and Crowley needed his help, and he'd promised.

Here goes, he thought, allowing himself a deep, steadying gulp of air (and wasn't that lovely, the sweet heady rush that came with it) before pushing the door aside.

Aziraphale blinked. Then blinked again. He blinked a total of 15 times before he entered.

Aziraphale had tried very hard not to imagine all the sinister things he might find in the middle of Crowley's marijuana plot. Even if he'd given himself over to pondering every possibility, he wouldn't have expected this.

The barn was lit up by the same warm, red glow as the rest of the farm. A few dusty skylights gave the room a sense of space that it didn't quite deserve. The air smelt sweet in here too, but it wasn't the pungent suffocation of the cannabis. No, in here, the air hummed with unexpected freshness, with the heady, delicious scent of fruit. There they were, lined up along the walls, a few peach trees, lemons, pears and berries – roses and apple trees too. All ripe, ready for the picking.

The fruit trees couldn't keep his attention, however. In the middle of the room was a little meadow full of wildflowers, bursting with colour. Bees whipped around from stem to stem, and towering over them all, stretching towards the skylights, were the tallest sunflowers Aziraphale had ever seen.

It was beautiful. An age went by while Aziraphale explored the flowers, overcome with surprise at their maker as he smelt, touched and tasted his way through the barn. He senses Crowley in every petal, in every lush green leaf, and couldn't stop himself from lying down in the middle of the meadow, giant sunflowers watching over him. He imagined Crowley here, sneaking in to do the same. It seemed absurd, the smooth, black hardness of Crowley in the middle of this colourful, buzzing force of life. Aziraphale ached to see him here, almost imagined that he could.

The skylights had gone dark above him by the time he got up. Only once on the other end of the barn, he faced what he'd come here to do. It seemed a terrible tragedy, and yet he'd made a commitment to Crowley.

With a great sigh, he lowered his trusty satchel from his shoulder, taking out a stack of little brown bags that hadn't been in there a moment before. He went around the meadow again, caressed every flower, letting it know how beautiful it was. He persuaded even the looming sunflowers to bend down and let go of a few of their seeds. Then he rounded on the fruit trees, trusty tartan tin in hand, and picked a single piece of fruit from each and every one and a little prickly cutting from every rose.

Satchel in hand, the angel took one final look at Crowley's dirty secret, this micro-paradise he'd hidden away. Then he snapped his fingers and sent it all to somewhere he hoped was good, somewhere with fresh air and a warming sun, and just enough rainfall. He didn't notice the extra weight of his bag, and he kept it close, held it in his lap on the sleepy train back to London. Only once he made it safely back to the bookshop did he let go, taking care to count each and every brown bag, folding out their creases and speaking to them gently, as if the plants could still hear him.

He spent the next two weeks drying out the fruit until they let go of their precious cores, and when it all was ready, he put it all in the best firesafe and airtight container he could find.

The container found a new home behind a bookcase full of A Breefe History of Northern Shropshire, and it survived a fire, the apocalypse and the layers of dust that settled over it in the years after that.

Aziraphale never mentioned a word to Crowley, enjoying plenty of sushi, sake and dessert for his efforts.

He carefully guarded the little seedlings until a day, very far into the future indeed, after yet another war, when the angel casually floated the idea of the two of them acquiring a little cottage together somewhere outside of London and the demon scoffed in his face at such a ridiculous suggestion. Somewhere, perhaps, with a nice little garden that Crowley might take care of. He had just the thing to get it started.

[1] Some time during a dull few years in the 1970s, Aziraphale had gifted him a scratch map of the UK counties, instructing the demon to scratch off every county he'd been arrested in. Last time the angel had seen it, sometime during 2003, two thirds of the map had been revealed.

Link for the other (shorter) stories on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24037873/chapters/57837565

#goc2020 #good omens celebration #goodomenscelebration #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley being a soft bastard #crowley #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale #south downs #good omens fanfiction #anthony j crowley

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eurosong · 5 years ago

Text

My ESC ‘20 ranking

Good morning folks, on this rather melancholy “Eurovision day.” Whilst this year may be cancelled and its songs pretty callously binned by the EBU, 2020 was a diverse year that deserves taking a close look at too, so here goes my customary full ranking of the year. I express some candid opinions, but they are just my take on things, no shade intended if you disagree.

41. Estonia - What love is It’s always most difficult to pick a last place because, no matter how sleek Eurovision gets, there are still a few abject horrors that sneak into the contest. With a score that would have been dated 30 years back, and lyrics that manage the peculiar double act of being both pompous and anodyne, this is horrid enough before Uku’s dubious xenophobic comments and his prevailing over a field of much more compelling songs get taken into account.

40. Macedonia - You The Macedonians, having achieved their best result ever last year (I’m happy for them, but also, Kaliopi deserved that), decided that they soared too close to the sun with Proud and decided to crash land this year to build their energy to soar again. That’s the only reasonable explanation I have for this effort which deeply repels me, doubling down on Luca Hänni’s “cocky guy in a sleazy bar” æsthetics and adds to it even worse lyrics, castrato singing and the unintended levity of the interpreter being far more interested in the bartender. Also one of a maddening number of duplicate titles that were nowhere near as good as the originals.

39. Cyprus - Running What is this void in the space of a song? I’ve listened to it dozens of times to do ratings over the past months. I’m still left with an icy emptiness because it does nothing to me, says nothing to me. The only thing that I can say in its favour is that it’s not a replay of replay aka Fuego 3. That’s it. It’s like it’s designed to leave little impression and hope to cruise by on diaspora and friendly votes alone.

38. Austria - Alive Austria have been on an interesting Eurovision journey, going from winning with Conchita to serving up this chirpy homophobe doing his best impression of Timberlake. A monumental step back from the singular tenderness of Pænda.

37. France - Mon alliée (The best in me) La déception de l’année sans doute. France, one of Europe’s cultural powerhouses, really said “forget Destination Eurovision, which showcased our music scene’s diversity and was one of the fandom’s favourite newer NFs. Let’s abolish it all and bring in the guys who made Bigger than us, because we really want a piece of that Big 5 bottom place action! Let’s throw away our cultural caché and get something about as French as flatpack furniture!”

This is like going to a pricey restaurant in Paris, expecting haute cuisine and instead getting some microwave-reheated IKEA köttbullar. And can we talk about how Amir of J’ai cherché fame is partly to “thank” for this in one of the biggest heel turns of the year? It’s like he wanted to ensure that France TV beg him to return by safeguarding his excellent score from being equalled. I also have to say, Tom Leeb seems like a nice guy with a good voice. He did his best to salvage this with the acoustic version, which lifts it up a few places. But not so many given that that Westlife reject b-side ending with a key change remains.

36. Germany - Violent thing Speaking of major cultural players dumping their national finals for no good reason, guten Tag, Deutschland! Germany once had one of the best and certainly most diverse NFs going. Instead of dumping Barbara Schönenberger as hostess - every year she’s presented, Germany have had calamity, and the one year they did well, 2018, she wasn’t host - they decided to pin all their hopes on a bewildered looking gossoon from Slovenia with yet another Timberclone song and some rather dubious live vox. As his countrywoman Lea Sirk said, it’s a hvala ne from me.

35. Spain - Universo Yes, it’s another year of the Big 5 not living up to its automatic qualification rights (except you, Italy, thank you for being the exception to the rule.) So here we’ve got a bland effort from Spain to avoid being bottom 5, except that ain’t how ESC works - you need something to get people to waste their money on voting for your song. And for me, this surely is not it. This was a bit higher on my ranking before because there are more objectively objectionable songs out there. But the nonsensical, repetitive lyrics, the painful attempt at a high note on perdónameeee, and getting stuck on a bus where I had to put up said screeching being played 5+ times means #35 is about right for where it deserves.

34. Armenia - Chains on you Armenia, usually a reliable mainstay in the top half of my listings at least, instead served up one of the most bewilderingly impalatable NFs of the season where every song sounded imported from the ESC anni horribili of the 00s. This has grown on me a little bit - I like tin drums and I like her weird accent - but the lyrics are amongst the year’s most pitiful (“ya wanna take me to a party, because you’re naughty”) and it just feels cheep to me. 33. Bulgaria - Tears getting sober I don’t see the appeal in this bewildering merger of dirge and Disney, and this is coming from someone who likes melancholic music more times than not. I find this one straight up unpleasant to listen to. The lyrics are of someone passive-aggressively glorying in the pain they wallow in to return the hurt, in “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” style. The syrupy score replete with key change is a bizarre, ghoulish accompaniment. Only this high because I recognise some artistic merit in its production.

32. Azerbaijan - Cleopatra Are Azerbaijan now at the stage where they’ve decided to pastiche themselves? The country with the worst LGBT rights of all contesting ESC having the monumental neck to send a song about “gay or straight or in between”? The country who have almost religiously avoided sending anything with any actual Azeri national character or heritage sending a song written by a Canadian, an American and a Frisian about a Greek-Egyptian ruler with a Japanese mantra and Latin affectations, so sending us around the world to pretty much everywhere except Azerbaijan? What can I say in favour of it? It’s a little bit catchy. So are venereal diseases.

31. Poland - Empires How can a country who started their ESC journey with aplomb - and experimental gems like Sama and Chcę znać swój grzech - and who continue to serve in the junior contest, how can they be so almost studiedly bland in ESC these days? This is our 564th knockoff Bond tune, sung a little awkwardly and with lyrics written by a Year 8 who’s been given a creätive writing assignment where they have to use metaphors. “We’re gasoline and a match!” Wow. If it passed to the final, it would only because of loyal Poles abroad.

30. Greece - Superg!rl We leave the territory of complete dirges and enter that of songs I can sort of live with. This one’s a huge step back for the Hellenes though after the gorgeous Better love. Its odd chorus is memorable, but not for the best reasons. Its saving grace is its unintentionally humorous promotional video. A better use of those superpowers would have been to come up with a better song.

29. Moldova - Prison Remember the fun Moldova that used to bring songs like Hora din Moldova and Lautar, with some actual national flavour and flair? That’s long gone. Even the Moldova that brought terrible songs but fun stagings, like that of My lucky day, seems far lost into the fogs of time too. Another wholly unremarkable and mediocre production of the Scream Team that would be lucky to scrape into the finals. 28. Belgium - Release me Has Belgium learnt absolutely nothing in the years Blanche where the wheels of their ESC renaissance have fallen decidedly off? My feeling is no. I have to salute them to some degree for creating nice, very musical compositions, but just like in the past two years, they have forgotten to add a few key elements: some sense of progression or dynamism. This plods along repetitively on one track, one note, and that note is nice enough as background music, but my hunch is that track would have led them to another unsurprising “surprise” NQ.

27. Serbia - Hasta la vista It’s an earworm, but some earworms leave you wanting to get an aural exorcism. Somehow, some sort of collective insanity overcame Serbia and they decided to dump on their beautiful oeuvre of songs, go completely against their trend for qualitative, classical, brooding, orchestral music by instead picking a bunch of time travellers who had been a third rate girl band in Transnistria. How enough Serbians thought they’d win over Europe by going for a sound that was dated even when they made their début bemuses me. 26. UK - My last breath The UK are really soaring high in my rankings as... the last amongst the 26 songs that would make up my notional perfect final. Baby steps. I still think it’s pretty lame how the BBC tanked their own national final for this. It’s not so adventurous. It has so little to say that it’s half a minute shorter than the ESC standard and yet still consists of repetition. It has one of the most annoying chorus quirks with that beat in “my last... breath.” How did this get up this high again?

25. Albania - Fall from the sky It absolutely pains my heart to put Albania out of the top 20 after two thunderous years in which they captured my gold and bronze respectively. What makes it worse is that they could have had a perfect hat-trick, because the original, Albanian language version “Shaj” was my #1 song from December up until mid-March when they released this thin gruel of a revamp with all the things that gave Shaj some authenticity and flavour gone, and with beautiful, heart-rending lyrics replaced with cliché. Only this high because there are plenty of worse songs.

24. Czechia - Kemama I have a soft spot for poor Benny, the interpreter of this song. Ok, so it beat a field containing some vastly superior songs, but it’s nice to have a Czech song without weird lyrics about women for the first time in a while, and the way the kid was put through the ringer for his more Afrobeat-influenced revamp made me sad. For me, it gained a bit of flavour with that change. The lyrics are still poor but I like the colourful musical backdrop.

23. Israël - Feker libi 🇮🇱 Sometimes, you don’t think much of a song but the artist elevates it enormously. Such is the case with Feker libi, a bizarre pot pourri of styles with a very discordant tropical verse (which I like), mid-90s dance track chorus (which I don’t), middle eastern post-chorus and African-sounding outro (jury’s out on both.) Yet Eden Alene is so full of natural charm and exudes “I want to be your friend” that I can’t help but rewatch just because of how joyous she makes it.

22. San Marino - Freaky 🇸🇲 Speaking of atypical countries flying high in my ranking, all was set for San Marrano to take non-pride of place at the bottom of my ranks yet again, but somehow, I ended up quite enjoying their track this year. Yes, San Marino is still a weird zone where, when you descend to Rimini in Italy, you enter the new millennium, but returning up the tiny nation’s steep slopes, you head back to a time in the 70s when disko was king. This disco is fun though. In part thanks to Senhit, a sympathetic performer who deserved more in 2011, in part the lyrics - who doesn’t want to rip up the rules, write new ones and then destroy them too?

22. Switzerland - Répondez-moi It’s nice to have the Swiss singing in a national language for the first time in ages. It’s also nice that they didn’t fall back on their success with Hänni by going with a similar so-called bOp. I also really love some of the artist’s other tracks, like Babi. And I liked this a fair bit more upon first listen, but the combination of less than stellar lyrics - just a succession of somewhat emoïsh rhetorical questions; just because they’re in French, doesn’t make them deep - and a wailing falsetto have made my will to relisten to this often take a serious hit for me. A shame, as musically, it has some undoubted quality. 20. Denmark - Yes 🇩🇰 Denmark seems to be doubling down on 2019 to develop its new niche - catchy, sweet but ultimately a little overly gooey love songs. There’s always something a little bit imperfect about them though: last year it was Leonora’s serial killer-esque nervous gaze; this year, it’s the “I’m not going to even try to make pretend we’re an item” lack of energy from Tan. It’s a little bit too reheated “Little talks” but it’s decent enough.

19. Russia - Uno 🇷🇺 When this first was released, days after the deadline for submitting songs, I was pretty peeved at what seemed like a pisstake against the contest, a bizarre rehash of Aqua for the meme age. And yet.. maybe it’s the quarantine slowly driving me insane, maybe it’s the sheer infectiousness of this that just makes you want to dance, maybe it’s the epic energy of the backing singer (Rosa from Brooklyn 99’s twin) who looks like she wants to kill everyone else... but I’ve actually grown to like this enough to put it top 20. I’m not always entirely predictable!

18. Norway - Attention 🇳🇴 There’s a lot of things that tick my yes boxes with this song, like the beautiful orchestral music laid out by the famed Mørland or the simple but sincere performance. There are also things that take a Sharpie and scrawl in my no boxes too, like the somewhat whiny tone of the vocals or the adolescent and lyrics which, with their “oy’d change anyffink abaat moyself fur a boi” tone, don’t flatter the singer, and from Mørland, I expect better. There’s more good than bad here though, and it has been an earworm since the day it was selected.

17. Belarus - Da widna 🇧🇾 I don’t know what was in the water this year, but we got a bunch of great Slavic language songs, including from countries that don’t typically send songs except in English. I like the chilled out vibe and the curious lyrics. Their live version for Eurovision Home Concerts with just an acoustic guitar sounded a whole lot better, I must say.

16. Australia - Don’t break me 🇦🇺 I’m finally overcoming the horror of the bizarre clown mise-en-scène complete with ropey lyrics at Australia decides and judging this on its potential. Hands down Australia’s best entry at the contest for me. Musically, it’s strong, and lyrically, it’s compelling and very saudadic. I’m sad we won’t see what a glow-up their final staging could have provided. I really hope it wouldn’t have involved clowns, which seriously tanked the song in my ranking for months, no joke.

15. Portugal - Medo de sentir 🇵🇹 A Portuguese entry outside of my top ten? Given their form with me since 2015, this might seem like a harbinger of the apocalypse. I still like it quite a bit, but there are stronger songs this time. It’s heartfelt, the lyrics are powerful (about being afraid to feel again after being hurt) and the melody is pretty. The live was a bit cagey especially because of the not particularly well synchronised voices of Elisa and the pianist, who composed the song. Still a very nice song and it is great to see Portugal staying faithful to its language, but I can’t help but feel sad that songs more in line with its riskier, more trailblazing previous few years. Passe-partout or Gerbera amarela do sul would have been in my top 3 like last year.

14. Latvia - Still breathing 🇱🇻 If you told me in January that not only would this song not be disliked, it’d also end up in my top 15 of the year, I’m sure incredulous laughter would have been the most polite response you’d have probably gotten. And yet - the song I couldn’t stand in Supernova has won me over and I do want to see Samanta Tina return for 2021 since she evidently cares so deeply about ESC so is pretty much one of us. I’ve come to love the weirdness of the track - real meat and gravy given the number of anodyne tracks - the iconic pre-corona hygienic leitmotif of its staging. ST’s joie de vivre and command of the stage. It’d be a guilty pleasure except I don’t feel guilty for it.

13. Georgia - Take me as I am 🇬🇪 Georgia once again are dancing to the beats of their very anarchic drummer and I love them for that. This thinly veiled swipe at both the Big 5 coasting in mediocrity and at narrow-minded fans’ reäctions to Georgia’s extremely varied oeuvre just hits the spot for me. I love the musicality of it, the dark electro-rock vibes, Tornike’s voice and how it blends perfectly with his captivating backing singers. I always vote with my feet for something different in an era where people are aiming to qualify with safe and bland rather than taking risks.

12. Romania - Alcohol you 🇷🇴 Roxen provided one of the most iconic moments of the season by deliberately tanking the ordained bop amongst her national final songs. Her eventual song is one of the most emotional of the year, and also one of the most surprisingly literary: there are tonnes of nuances, allusions, wordplays and so forth in this text, most of which are a lot more graceful than the titular terrible pun. I humbly put it to folk who thinks that this romanticises alcohol that they are missing the point - it’s instead being used as a metaphor for toxic relations which, by the end of the song, Roxen has broken away from. I love her voice, I love the music. It fell briefly out of my affections because of the weird mini-revamp, but it’s risen again.

11. Ukraine - Solowej 🇺🇦 It’s fabulous to see Ukraine singing a song entirely in their language and I hope this trend continues across the Slavic nations like was notable this year. The timeless folksy elements mixing with modern beats makes a curious and entrancing blend, delivered with aplomb. It takes where Poland 2019 went wrong and puts it right. I could have done without the unnecessary revamp, but it’s still one of the year’s freshest cuts. Well done, Widbir!

10. Slovenia - Voda 🇸🇮 In an age where the likes of Albania is stripping away all the beautiful orchestral flourishes of its entry to make a pared and muted revamp, Slovenia went full throttle in the opposite - and in my mind, right - direction and made one of the very few good revamps of the season. Performing with the Budapest philharmonic orchestra, Ana Soklič, who, for my money, has one of the best female voices of the year, unleashed the cinematic, sweeping beauty of Voda. I think this would have surprised many people by doing quite well. On musical and vocal merit alone, and adding to that the subdued saudade of its lyrics, it deserved a lot more love.

09 Malta - All of my love 🇲🇹 In 2018, I would have sooner said that it was more probable for me to have become Grand-Duke of Luxembourg than it was for me to have loved a Maltese song, let alone two i n a r o w. I didn’t expect much of this at all, because I expected we’d get a wailing vocal exhibition, as Ian used to say, focused on exhibiting Destiny’s range rather than giving her a genuinely good song. But this is a genuinely good song. Once again, I love for the gospel edge it has, and Destiny’s vocals soar to impressive heights, without feeling unnatural or ostentatious. I should have known to expect good things with the regal Cesár Sampson on board.

08 Lithuania - On fire 🇱🇹 Prior to this year, few people had any hopes for Lithuania’s long-winded national final selection process. The idea of it being must-watch viewing when there were many other more compelling choices on offer was hilarious. In 2020, that changed. They changed the name to the hilarious but hopeful “Let’s try again”, had a number of fantastic songs, and became one of the most diverse and qualitative highlights of the NF season. The eventual winners, The Roop, deserved the accolade with this cool, super contemporary track with a brilliant dance routine and a genuinely important message about not giving up on yourself.

07. Sweden - Move 🇸🇪 At MF this year, the Swedes put a match to its protracted ‘cocky fuckboi with polished, soulless overproduced pop song’ era, hopefully for good, with an all-female top 4. I will always lament Dotter missing out narrowly, but I’ve still been brought plenty of joy by the radiant Mamas with their fabulous hand-choreography and genuine warmth, and this song of resilience through the tough times. I love gospel-tinged music and this really makes me smile.

06 Ireland - The story of my life 🇮🇪 Before this was announced, I heard Ireland’s track being compared to the oeuvre of pretty much every major 00s female pop star. I was quizzical, but upon hearing it, could see why. In a year with a lot of beige, this is just one big orange and yellow blast of colourful late 90s/early 00s nostalgia, hope, resilience. The kind of anthem I never knew I needed but came right on time. I can’t listen to its wry, conversational lyrics without wanting to dance along. And Lesley Roy herself is an icon. My favourite effort from Ireland since Playing by numbers, and I really hope she returns in 2021.

05 Finland - Looking back 🇫🇮 I’ll never forget a mural in the part of València where I used to live that said “we’re not different for the sake of being different”, and that could sum up my attitudes to Eurovision. Whilst it seemed almost everyone was behind Cicciolina in Finland, I had scant hope for my favourite, and was blown away when it actually did win. This melancholy meditation on the passing of time and people - “we never know what we have until it’s over and we’re looking back” - became emblematic of this year for me and added to what was already a really poignant and moving track. I love the musical style too and the smoothness of Aksel’s voice and how it contrasts with his evident awkward shyness. It has moved me so much that it had to end up top 5.

04 Croatia - Divlji vjetre 🇭🇷 I always will represent and bring love for the Balkans and their adhesion to their musical traditions. This was one of the most pleasant surprises of the NF season for me - I was expecting very little from Croatia, and instead, it greeted me with this beauty. You have the understated classic grace of the music, the exquisite melancholy and poeticism of the lyrics, and one of the finest male vocals of the season. My favourite Croatian track in almost 15 years.

03 Italy - Fai rumore 🇮🇹 Sanremo isn’t just a national final, it’s a cultural experience that digs into your heart over the course of a whole week. This was one of the most memorable I have followed yet - and what a truly deserving winner. It’s just another example of the seemingly endless supply of heartfelt tunes by classy, sincere performers that Italy has on tap, with one of the best lyrics of the contest and the extra level of poignancy from how the lyrical theme of isolation would come to represent us all.

02 Iceland - Think about things 🇮🇸 One of my nerviest and happiest moments of the entire NF season was seeing Daði Freyr and friends win Söngvakeppnin in Iceland. As much as I loved Svala’s Paper, I had also adored his song three years prior - the delightfully awkward and similarly irrepressably earwormy Is this love. And now he was back with a groovy, fun, heartwarming tune about fatherhood that has only continued to grow in my estimations. The bridge still full on gives me goosebumps. It’s the kind of song that just makes me marvel at being human and being on this earth.

01 Netherlands - Grow 🇳🇱 My top few songs are all very closely entwined so much so that they could be considered joint winners, but I’ve been pretty unequivocal ever since Shaj got torpedoed by its revampire: silver turned to gold and my previous 2nd place, Grow, became my new favourite. I love the heartfelt, sparsely poëtic, bravely confessional lyrics. I love the way that it goes from something minimalist and intimate with just organ and voice and slowly builds upon the hints of gospel to something truly anthemic. Such a meticulous arrangement where there’s not a single sound out of place. This song is pure art and, like Soldi, Mall, APD and all those preceding songs which had the magic of being my personal favourite, it moves me upon every listen.

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc 2020 #opinion #eurovision 2020 #esc

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 95

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle get on with living their lives, paps be damned. But of course, the internet has its own ideas when it saw the two coffee cups, and of course, that statement regarding Tom and Bond.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle was checking her phone since she heard it go off while she and Tom were collecting Mac. She had texted the kennels the night before on seeing Tom so ill to ask them if it was alright to leave the dog for another night, they, of course, obliged and as soon as the coffee and pastries were finished, the pair decided to collect him. She read the text from Nacelle a second time, trying to see the logic behind it.

“Something important?” Tom came into her peripheral vision as he sat into the passenger seat.

“Nope, but funny as hell.” She showed him the photo that was on the screen of him with the two coffees.

“That asshole was outside the coffee shop this morning, what are they saying now?”

“Well, it is all over the internet.”

“What is?” He asked worriedly.

“Sure, this is the confirmation the world needed.” She giggled.

“What are you on about Elle?” He looked at her worriedly.

“Proof you and Taylor are still together,” His brow rose immediately. “The little ‘Hiddleswift’ fanatics are all over the internet violently arguing that this is unequivocal proof you are still together.”

“It’s a picture of me with coffee?” Tom stated, concerned at the severe lack of explanation.

“No, there are pictures of you running to the café, then with you walking back with not one, but two coffees,” Danielle explained. “Oh, and why did you not tell me I am to be a stepmom?”

“I am sorry, what?”

“Apparently that is why she has not been seen since the break-up, you’re to be a dad, congrats.” Tom looked at her appalled. “Relax, she did a show a few weeks ago, there was no bump.” Danielle laughed. “If she was pregnant, you would know about it.”

“But…”

“Tom, be reasonable, she is twenty-seven, unmarried and already getting too old to hold this fresh-faced teen songstress look, a baby would be career suicide for her now. Relax, this is the same people who are saying she is sitting in this car beside you today, that you are with her, and we both know you’re not.” She smiled.

Tom nodded. “Sorry, I am just a bit off today.” He then shook his head, “My brain is playing tricks on me.”

“You have not seen her since the end of August, it would have come to you before now.”

“I have not…no, it’s longer.”

“Right well, calm yourself. It’s just silly people trying to enrich their lives with speculation because they are looking for something interesting.”

“That’s a polite way to put it. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Tom, if you were away for hours on end a day, not answering the phone and no explanation, then coming back, smelling of other women and not interested in me, I would have to worry, but you are always contactable, if you’re not, you tell me beforehand and you are not the sort to do something that slimy. I know you are not off fucking someone else and I know that you are not with her, so I don’t care. Let them have their speculation, so long as they are not physically affecting my life, I don’t care. Even after they learn about us, they will still write their stories with you with other real or made-up women and they will comment on things, but I don’t care. It’s not reality. Reality is what we have, we have our friends and family and we are not bothered.” She shrugged.

Tom paid attention to her smile and her genuine expression. “You really have been spending time dealing with this and preparing for it, haven’t you?”

“I have. I am not happy, knowing that some weirdo will annoy me when I am walking Mac, but they will get bored, we will be just like Sophie and Ben, just two people minding our own business, no one knows what they are doing from one week to the next, we’ll be the next ones to be like that.”

“We will,” Tom kissed her hand. “And I understand. Going for the coffee this morning and for that guy to be there, it is annoying, but it is not forever. They will get their fresh blood and the two of us will be too boring and normal for them.”

“I am never boring, excuse you.” Danielle nudged his side. Tom was about to give her a kiss when Mac stuck his head on his shoulder. “I think someone has decided we need to start driving.”

Tom laughed, looking at the dog who was giving him large puppy-eyes. “I think he has.” He turned and rubbed Mac’s head. “Blame her buddy, she’s in the driving seat.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Danielle sighed, turning on the engine.

Three days and three public outings later, Tom and Danielle had not been spotted, which suited them. They did not hide but were also careful not to bring too much attention to themselves. They were after bringing Mac to the park, Tom jogging with the dog while Danielle cycled nearby, finally using the bike Tom had procured for her. When they met again at the end of it, Tom smiled and watched as she loaded the bike onto the car. “I forgot to ask,” She turned to look at him. “The situation with your…” He indicated to her arm.

“Nothing since, no cramps, bleeding, anything.” She smiled. “I guess it was just the changeover.”

“So, are we safe to…” he grinned wickedly.

“Yes.”

“For the record, you are not showering alone today.”

“Thanks for the warning, though, since you are back to yourself after your illness, I hadn’t planned to anyway.”

“Using me for my body.” He jested.

“So, have you seen them while I was away?” Tom asked as he stirred the pot on the stove.

“No, I haven’t really had time with work, but I was talking to Sophie, she was saying how tired and hectic things have been, I would not doubt her, two in nappies, that’s terrifying.”

“I was born not much over a year after Sarah.”

“I know, your poor Mam.”

“So, not close together then?”

“I am not going to say anything because I will jinx myself.”

Tom laughed in return. He was about to say something more when the doorbell rang. “There’s Luke now.”

“I’ll stay in here so and bring some tea in for you both,” Danielle stated before going to the laundry room.

Tom ran to the front door and opened it for his friend. “Good afternoon.”

“Hello Tom.”

It was notable while he was in the turmoil of the time with Taylor that Luke seldom smiled when he saw Tom, he almost looked fearful, but he grinned widely as he walked into the actor’s home, something that made Tom smile. “Well, what is the gist of things?”

“Well the tour went down well, as we knew it would, and the film, as you are aware, is being well received.”

“So, dare I ask, what is the reason for the afternoon visit?”

“There is a terrible little rumour going around that you are being turned down for the Bond role as you are ‘too smug’.”

Tom frowned for a moment. “But no one has discussed the role with me in months.”

“I am aware, you are aware, the studio is aware, the general public, however, is not, and they are going with whatever story filled their fancy. And some are continuing with the farcical idea that you are some egomaniac with narcissistic tendencies that considers himself a shoe-in for the role.”

“Let them think it, it means nothing.”

“Agreed.” Luke smiled. “Speaking of people’s opinions, how is Danielle?”

“She is fine, she is in the kitchen making some tea.” A moment later, Danielle walked in. “Speak of the devil.”

“Use my Earthly name, you fool.” She hissed. “Honestly, some mortals, they think they can declare your presence to everyone.”

Even Luke had to chuckle at her jestful comment. “He talks too much.”

“No one has suffered with him as you have Luke, you deserve a sainthood.”

Again, Luke laughed. “I was speaking to Tom regarding a rumour that he was declined the role for Bond for being too smug.”

For a moment, Danielle thought he was joking, but when she realised that it was genuine, she laughed. “Well, true fans will know that’s bullshit and the Fairweather’s will not be convinced otherwise regardless. We can’t please everybody, fuck ‘em.”

Tom smiled at Danielle’s immediate dismissal of such comments. “Exactly, then Luke was asking how you are and you walked in.”

“I am okay thank you, I hope you are well. I’m going to walk out now to let you two talk over whatever else needs to be discussed.” A moment later Mac stuck his head in the door. “Get out you lout.” She ordered, but Mac looked at Luke for a moment. “You met him already, he’s not a dog person, so bugger off and leave him alone.”

Mac gave the PR man a judgmental look and left the room with his master. “Her dog just gave me a stink-eye.”

“Elle is the person who raised him, I would not doubt it.”

“You must be happy to finally have a dog, you complained too many times before that you didn’t have one.”

“It’s great, honestly, I love it, he loves jogging and Danielle insists on being the one to clean after him, so I get all the benefits.”

“What happens when she isn’t here?”

“I look after everything. We use kennels when we’re both away.”

“It is very all very domestic,” Luke noted. “And you have never looked happier.”

“I am, I…” Tom beamed. “Life is incredible these days, busy, sometimes even difficult, but incredible.”

“Good, I am glad to hear it,” Luke answered. “I am frightened to ask, but have you heard anything from…?”

“Why on Earth would I contact Taylor?”

“I never stated you contacting her, I mean in general.”

“No, I have not heard of her or from her, thankfully. I have seen online that there is speculation that she is in the UK and that she and I are supposedly still dating according to some, in fact, Danielle informed me the other day that apparently, I am the father of Taylor’s imaginary unborn child in some people’s books.”

“I have seen that particular gem a few times as to why she is not in the spotlight, yes.” Luke nodded.

“There was something though.” Luke looked at Tom with concern as Tom’s tone became somewhat angry. “A friend of hers, Lena Durham.”

“I know of her.”

“Danielle went to the US last week for a job interview. She passed all the primary tests, they were very interested in her…her experience was seen as a downside, considering the lack of it, but what she had done, her references, as well as her extra work was something that they were willing to work with. Elle really was hoping for it.”

“What happened?”

“She was the assistant director, she apparently just looked at Danielle with a sneer and said no. No reason, nothing, and that was it.” Tom’s anger mounted as he spoke. “It cost Danielle a considerable amount of money to go to New Orleans and she didn’t even…” he inhaled deeply. “Because of me.”

“Why, did you go and smear Durham?”

“No.”

“Did you in any way make it that she would do that?”

“Because of everything with Taylor…”

“Tom, it is clear from the way Danielle was looking at you not fifteen minutes ago, that if she really wanted this job, she is not holding you responsible for the actions that led to her not getting it,” Luke stated bluntly. “Yes, you having dated Taylor and the subsequent break-up meant that when her friend was in a position of power over Danielle, she abused it, I am not denying that. But you did not actively bring this on Danielle, and if I am entirely honest, I believe that she dodged a bullet. I have heard it from sources unrelated to all of this that though talented, she is, as the saying goes, a grade A bitch. Danielle does not need such aggravation in her life and can you imagine if she had gotten it, considering. If Durham had decided to insist she get it and work the set, could you imagine what she could do to Danielle?”

“She could have made her life a misery.” Tom realised.

“At the very least, she could have ruined Danielle’s love of her job, she could have made everything she has worked for be for nothing, she would have run back to Suffolk, or even Ireland and the hell away from the career she has worked so hard for.”

Tom looked at him for a moment. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

“anytime.” Luke smiled back at him. “I am glad to help. Don’t let it piss you off, Danielle isn’t.”

“She got a job with Branagh as a result.”

“Where?”

“Here, France and Ireland, some war film.”

“Doesn’t he have one coming out this year on that topic?”

“No, Christopher Nolan directs it, he is only an actor. He wanted to do some sort of story that is effectively the air battle over the Channel and the bombing of London.”

“How is that related to Ireland?”

“Apparently they got bombed once in Belfast, then Dublin was bombed for helping Belfast, according to Elle, plus they have financial incentives to film there and some beach they use that acts as a D-Day beach in most films and documentary remakes,” Tom explained.

“So, she lost one job and got another as a result, how?”

“She is working with this man in the US with regards a flaw she found while studying, something to do with stunt wiring I think, and he has her as a consultant as a result, so they are communicating a lot and she had mentioned the job in the US before to him, but she must have said something about not getting it and then he offered her that, saying he was too busy, but that he recommended her to Branagh.”

“And she got it?”

“Apparently she has first refusal, she and I are meeting Branagh next week.”

“You’re going?”

“More for a catch-up, plus, she asked because I think she is nervous.” Luke made an odd facial expression. “What?”

“If it gets out, some people are going to accuse her of using you to get her the job.”

“But she has it already. She had it before Branagh knew she was my girlfriend.”

“Because of course, that matters to gossips.” Luke scoffed. Tom said nothing for a moment, it was true, they would think it regardless. “This is a time to consider her idea to not care about appeasing others.”

“I know, but I don’t want her to feel resentful for that,” Tom stated.

“Tom, she is big enough to look after herself, I have seen her do it. If she asked you, she has considered it and has dismissed it.” Luke explained.

“I hate you and your job some days, it can really put a dampener on things.”

“I know, I really hate having to see the sceptical side of everything, I really wish there were times I could just smile and not have to. I hate having to think the worst.” Luke admitted.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 95 #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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zephyrbcll · 5 years ago

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The Love Notes, part 1

February 15th

Good morning, baby.

Except maybe it won’t be morning when you read this, I don’t know, but right now it’s morning and you’re beside me suffering a truly terrible (okay, yes, adorable) case of bedhead. I think you’re also drooling, but it’s okay, you’re still cute.

Last night you said love notes would make you swoon and I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to write a swoon worthy love note. For all I know, I could hand this to you and you could give it back with my spelling mistakes corrected (In my defense, American doesn’t love the letter ‘u’ as much as the UK). I haven’t looked up collections of love notes for tips, but I figure the general point is to write about your affection, right? So I should be able to manage that.

You’re a revelation, you know that?

No of course you don’t. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that. Or maybe you would after last night, I don’t know, but I know that I didn’t expect you. I know I wouldn’t be nearly as happy without you. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling anything at all, I had my head shoved pretty far up my own ass until you walked by.

And you know, I don’t really remember what first caught my attention about you? I think I heard more about you than anything else in the beginning and I just started noticing you and then it was like I couldn’t look away.

I didn’t expect to like you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but I did, and now I’m going to write it down in note after note for you and I’m going to give them all to you on your birthday so you’ll have a reminder for exactly how I feel about you even when I’m not there.

Good morning, baby. I love you.

February 19

It’s really cute sometimes how you wonder what I’m telling my family about you. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s why you asked about what I’m writing, it’s not my fault if you assume I’m writing to my family and not to you.

They adore you, by the way. Or at least my dad does, he thinks you sound charming and like a ‘calming influence’, which is both annoying and accurate. Yes, you keep me calm, we all know that, but does he have to call me out on it?

My grandma apparently sniffed and said that at least you’re not a gypsy, but she’s withholding judgement for now. Considering that he didn’t approve of my dad until I was a toddler, I think this means that she likes you, but doesn’t want to admit it. Besides, her family recipes are staying alive thanks to you, so I’m sure she’s a little grateful.

My point is, you’ve won my entire family over and they’ve never even met you. Maybe they just see how fondly I write about you and they adore you for that, they love you because I love you, or maybe you’re so damn charming that your appeal crosses oceans.

I think they’re glad I found you, and I am, too. You don’t need to ever worry about what I’m writing about you because everything I’ve ever said about you has only made them know how completely and utterly gone I am for you.

Every time I hear from them now, they want me to tell you hello. Maybe one day they can say it themselves.

February 23

I’m pretty sure that your coworkers think that any time I show up, I’m going to drag you off somewhere to have my wicked way with you. I’m not entirely sure if they like me or not.

But I like you, so there we go. I like seeing if I can spot you through the windows first, I like seeing the way you change when you see me come in. Not trying to sound too egotistical here, but it’s like you light up and it’s a good feeling to know that I can do that to you.

Do that for you.

I don’t come in just to feel you up, by the way. The truth is that seeing you lights up my day, too. I can’t think of why it should matter so much, but I like hearing about whatever book you may have picked up on a whim, I like seeing how animated you get if there’s a customer you want to complain about. I like seeing you opinionated and alive with how much you feel. Maybe that’s why you made me more appreciate of what’s around me, it’s because you care so much about everything that it just bleeds out.

You don’t always have to be like that. I know you have bad days and sometimes you’re going to be tired, you’re not going to have something to talk about and that’s okay.

I’m not going to get bored. I’m not going to get offended on the days you don’t light up. Days like that are for pulling you aside and wrapping you up in my arms. They’re for naps and staying in if we can.

They’re for chocolate, too.

Have you gotten tired of getting chocolate every day yet? I doubt it, not with the way you love it. I actually didn’t buy as much as I expected and it was on sale, I want to remind you, so no fussing. Besides, I like being able to surprise you with gifts, even if it’s just small things.

Actually, I like surprising you with small things more, I think.

I hope you like this surprise when you get it. You deserve a novel and god knows I could fill a book with everything I want to say about you, so don’t think these letters are going to stop, not as long as my heart still beats.

February 25

This letter is a cheat.

I haven’t see you today and I don’t see you right now, but dear fucking god, I do when I close my eyes.

I’ve been writing about you when I’m with you or after I see you, I want to explain to you what I like about you around the time it happens so that you know it’s real and you know what I think about you. The reason I’m writing to you now isn’t real, not unless I’ve suddenly become skilled in divination and had a prophecy. In which case, dear god, are you going to make my dick happy.

Cancel that, you already make my dick happy.

If you haven’t guessed you, I dreamed about you tonight. Congratulation. You, Remus John Lupin, are literally the man of my dreams.

You don’t even need to be here in order to get me off, because I woke up hard and aching and so goddamn certain you were real that I was confused when I felt only bed sheets, but I didn’t hesitate to jerk myself off when I realized you weren’t here to touch.

You were gorgeous, you know. And maybe you think it was just a dream, of course I’d enjoy a dream, but I think you’re gorgeous all the time. I know how pink your mouth turns after I kiss you again and again, I know the way you moan when I slide my fingers inside you. I know the way you shudder when I pin you down and how your back arches when you can’t hold on anymore.

There are still some things I don’t know, but I’ll find out one day. We’ll see if you like sex face to face, your legs wrapped around my waist while I keep your arms pinned over your head or if you’d rather have your face pressed into the sheets, muffling your moans while I ram into you from behind. It would be so easy to spank you like that, watch your ass turn red and see it swallow up my cock.

That’s not what I dreamed about, if you were wondering. I still need to find the right chair for your reading room, but that’s where we were and you were beginning, you were being so sweet and saying please while I pulled your hair, your body clamping down around me while I marked up your neck and you were so pretty, baby, you were so good for me.

But you always are, aren’t you? My good boy.

Mine.

February 28

I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you chewing on a pen before, but goddamn. Ever since that dream, it’s like every fucking thing you do turns into a porn situation inside my mind. You bend over and those tight pants pull across your ass and I think about how loud you’d get if I yanked your jeans down your legs and licked you open. You rub at your neck and I think about how I need to put more hickeys on you, how you should be wearing bitemarks and bruises everywhere.

The jut of your hips, the curve of your jaw, across your rib cage and on your thighs. And your neck, of course. I like the idea of them hiding under your clothes, knowing it would be so simple for someone to see one, that all that needs to happen is for your warm, soft sweater to slip to one side and show off the slope where your neck becomes your shoulder to put my teeth marks on display. It would be a blatant sign that you belong to someone and I love it.

Yes, I belong to you, too.

That’s why you’re going home with me tonight. Or I’m going with you, I don’t care, I just want to be around you.

And not for orgasms, I want to wrap around you in bed and listen to the little noises you make when I rub your back while you fall asleep. I want to wake up wrapped around you and make you tea after you finally wake up and frown because it’s morning.

It’s sappy, I know, but I’ve told you since the beginning that I don’t want just sex. I want you. I want special days like holidays and normal days like lazy weekends, I want big moments and small moments and I didn’t expect it, but what I’m saying is I want everything with you.

Maybe that wedding made me sentimental, I don’t think I’d even blame you for calling me a romantic right now. You know something funny? Everyone always talks about how pretty the bride looks, but I don’t really remember her dress, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

I can close my eyes and picture you perfectly.

March 1

Are you still worried about your nightmares scaring me off, Remus?

Nothing about you scares me, not your dreams and not your monthly mood swings, but sometimes I get scared for you. I get worried when you go on missions sometimes and come back bruised, I don’t like it, but that’s normal, I think.

Worrying about you, but the bruising, too, likely.

And this isn’t some big thing where I think you can’t take care of yourself or I think you’re fragile or incapable or some shit like that. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a survivor, so it has nothing to do with doubting you and everything with just wanting you to be okay.

Admit it, you wouldn’t be happy if I showed up bloody and bruised. You don’t even like when I get Howlers and those don’t hurt.

You seem like you’re sleeping peacefully, but I can’t right now. I don’t know why, but I can’t sleep. It’s okay, it just means I can watch over you for when your dreams turn troubled. I’ll be right here, baby, I’ll fight off anything that comes for you. I’ll keep the demons at bay.

I promise.

March 2

Bore da.

I’ve been practicing, do you like it?

Not that I’ve actually said it out loud to you yet. I don’t know if I’d actually say it right, but I’m trying to learn at least a few Welsh phrases. You’d probably appreciate if I learned something other than good morning, right? Diolch is thanks, I think. Croeso is welcome.

It’s not much, but it’s something. You’re asleep again right now and honestly, you look terrible, but that’s what happens after the moon, so it’s not unexpected, but the point is that you’re asleep and we’re in your flat and I guess technically I am home with you, but one day you’re going to take me home to Wales and I’m going to play tourist and send pictures back home to America.

Home. Funny word, isn’t it? Is Wales home or is your flat home? Can you have more than one home?

America is my childhood home now, I guess. It’s home, but a home I’ve grown out of and left. I don’t know if my flat is home yet, but I think it’s getting there and I think that’s happening because of you.

Or who knows, maybe you’re my home.

March 6

I’m going to take up knitting. I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided it would be a good activity for me. I can knit you new sweaters and fill your bedroom up with them and you’ll always have something new to wear that I made you and I, in return, wouldn’t feel the need to set all your roommate’s shirts on fire to keep you from grabbing one of them by accident.

I can picturing you frowning right now, but stop it. I know you didn’t put it on. You stopped the moment I noticed, and you put on exactly what I wanted you to. You were so goddamn good for me. I’m not really sure if you understand why this matters to me, but it does and having you listen has never stopped being a rush.

Plus, you look fucking good in my Ilvermorny shirt.

Not that you didn’t look good at the dinner party tonight. You looked far more edible than any of the food and it would have been a shame to have you change into something more comfortable if it didn’t mean seeing you naked.

Plus, as already mentioned, I like you in my clothes. And getting into something comfortable means cuddle time. I’m tempted to say that you might be right that I’m the teddy bear between us.

If any of those words up there are hard to read and look like I temporarily forgot how to write, it’s your fault. You keep squirming and you make a terrible writing desk even if it is nice to be able to reach down and pet you while I think or try to tickle you with the end of the quill.

Pens are better, by the way.

And I just got distracted playing with your hair, so now I’ve lost my train of thought. I can’t help it, I like having you sprawled across my lap, but I need to finish this before you get bored.

Thank you for inviting me. Yes, I know, I’m the suitable person to invite and all that, you told me already, but you didn’t have to. Tonight felt like being invited into part of your life I haven’t been in yet and it mattered.

It was nice, your friends are nice, and I’ll go out to a dinner party with you any time.

Quickies in the bathroom are even optional.

March 10

You said not to make a fuss on your birthday and I haven’t. A few bookshelves, nothing fancy. A cupcake instead of a cake, one candle instead of many. The only other thing I have for you is the book I’m giving you with the letters I’ve written over the past few weeks. They’re supposed to be love letters, but they all feel like they fall short of that title.

It’s early and I know you won’t wake up yet, so I have one more chance to write you a love note worth swooning over, so here it goes. Please try not to laugh.

I wasn’t planning on liking you. I didn’t even care too much if I made you feel better than first time we spoke, but the more I talked to you… I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how you did it, but I started caring about something besides my own anger and pain for the first time since I showed up in this country. You got past all my defenses and I never even noticed because I was too busy wanting more of you.

More of your story, more of your anger, more of your quick fucking wit that could cut anyone if you let it. I wanted any and all of it, just as long as it meant I got more of your time, too.

I didn’t really think about what that meant. I didn’t care about why because it was just good to find someone interesting, someone that made all of the buzzing stop until I was calm for the first time in what felt like forever. You shouldn’t have been able to do that, not when you were as upset as you were, but you still did.

Even on your bad days, you’re good for me, Remus, you don’t even need to try.

I was self-destructing and you were the only thing that made me stop. You worried even if you didn’t care and I couldn’t have that, I cleaned up my act and you became my top concern. I wanted to see you happy, I wanted to see you smile. I wanted you to be okay. I still want that, I just want it more now, and maybe a little differently.

I guess what I mean is it’s personal now. I want to be the one that gets to take care of you, not someone else.

When I think about my future, you’re in every day I can imagine.

I don’t believe in perfect people, you have flaws and so do I, but somehow they’ve left us with jagged edges that fit together like pieces of a puzzle and if such a thing is possible, then just maybe you’re perfect for me.

I want so many things with you. I want to finish your reading room and I want to take you on spontaneous adventures that would have thrilled the kid you used to be. I want to buy you books and close them when you fall asleep reading and I want to kiss you good morning even when you fuss about tea.

The fact I even like you when you kick me out of bed shows how whipped I am, doesn’t it?

But I think we both know by now that I more than like you. I think it was true before I ever realized it and I never noticed how I felt because I never thought about it. It was the most natural thing in the world for me to want to give you everything. I won’t try to call it a gift, but I hope you know that you have all of me.

Happy birthday, baby. I love you.

April 18, 1980

I think I may surprise you with lunch today.

Well, I say surprise, but it’s not much of a surprise since I told you, is it? But this day seems to keep dragging on and I want to see you and I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t see you if I want to.

Have you even had breakfast yet? Have you crawled out of bed? Maybe I should just bring lunch to you and curl up behind you for a nap afterwards, it doesn’t really matter to me.

I know this month has been rough on you. You’ve lost more than anyone would want to imagine and no amount of looking on the bright side is going to get rid of that pain yet, but I love you. I’m here even when it hurts and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going away, I’m just going to come closer to you.

My baby, my good boy, my love, you’re all those and more and there’s no way I could give you up without a fight now. The days are difficult, but what we have is stronger than diamonds.

That was supposed to sound kinda poetic, but that’s probably not my best skill. The point is this. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes we’re going to be mad at the world and sometimes we’ll be mad at each other, but it doesn’t mean I’m not still yours at the end of the day and you’re not still mine. Life sucks, but we’re going to make it through it together.

And we’re going to start. I’ll even bring you fish and chips with goddamned vinegar if that’s what gets you to smile.

God, your smile kills me. I don’t think I can see you smile without smiling back. I just can’t do it.

Only a few more hours, baby. I’ll see you soon.

April 19, 1980

The last time I wrote you one of these love notes was yesterday, but it feels like the entire world has changed since then.

Not the way I feel about you, of course, but dear god, I think I've found something new to love you for and at this point, I think it's best I just give up and accept the fact that I'm never going to have any clue how fucking deep I really am for you because I never could have pictured this moment. Then again, I never pictured having kids at all, you know?

I swear to you, Remus, I never knew about Katie. I never even suspected. She is one of a kind and I wouldn't have blamed you at all for wanting to walk. It would have broken my heart, but come on, you didn't see this coming, either, did you?

Have you ever pictured it? Waking up one day and hearing the sound of feet running around a house, kids giggling and calling you dad? i don't know if you've ever secretly imagined being a parent, but it's something I always figured I wasn't cut out for. I still might not be, but right now I know that I want to be. Right now, you're asleep next to me and Katie is curled up next to you, she's holding onto your finger and drooling and I'm so in love with this image that my heart fucking hearts.

I know neither of us give a fuck about our ages, no matter what I say about me being an old man. I know you're not a kid, I know you're smarter and more mature than I am, but christ, I have to admit, when I was holding Katie alone, I remember thinking that fuck, you're so young. You just turned twenty (your birthday may or may not have been one of the best days of my life) and and part of my brain thinks that's too young to have a kid, but then again, my parents were old when they had me.

But then I thought about it. Twenty is young to be in a war, isn't it? Twenty is young to lose a parent, but if you compare it to Katie, it's old. So fuck that. It's your choice, it's your life, you're an adult and you decide what you're ready for and what you want.

And right now, looking at the two of you? That's what I want. I want you and her, I want to be able to call you both mine, you're my family. And I love you. I loved you yesterday and I love you now, just like I'm going to love you tomorrow.

I hope you and Katie enjoy your nap, baby. Sleep well and sweet dreams, we're in for a hell of a ride.

May 16, 1980

I've decided you and I need a date night.

Before you start trying to figure things out and schedule, don't. We're going out tomorrow night and I already arranged for someone to keep Katie all night. We don't have to worry about if we get drunk, we don't need to worry about getting home at a certain time or if she gets upset, it's just going to be you and be and we can sleep in the morning after, too. It will be good, I promise.

And if you're wondering what's brought this on, I'll tell you. I don't want you to forget that you're special or loved. We may have a kid, but that doesn't mean letting the spark die.

I don't know when it will happen, but tomorrow night, at some point, I'm going to press against you from behind and make it a point to murmur against your ear that you're my favorite guy in the world, that you're my important person and the goddamn love of my life. You deserve to be made to feel like it night after night, but I'm going to make a special amount of effort tomorrow.

I'm going to make you feel so good. I'm going to make sure you know how much I appreciate you and make sure you know you're still going to have nights all to yourself as well as little moments stolen during Katie's nap time.

Well, if you're not napping, too. It's fucking adorable when you nap together, you know. Might want to think about a nap, actually, because I don't know how much sleep you'll be getting tomorrow.

May 22, 1980

I'm sorry I'm such an asshole.

I love you, I need you to remember that.

I fucked up.

I've tried three times to start this letter and I don't know which part I'm supposed to say first. I know we've already talked about our fight, but I want you to have a written record of things, too. Next time we have a fight, I want you to be able to come back and read this because yes, we're probably going to fight again. Hopefully not about the same subject and hopefully for a long time, but I think it will happen.

We're not perfect, Remus, I know this. I've always known we'd fight, but i didn't think it would be like that. I shouldn't have yelled. I know that, I shouldn't have yelled and I'm sorry. I never want to scare you and I never want to wonder if something is going to happen that will result in you getting hurt. I'm going to work on that, baby, I promise you.

We're not always going to agree and that's okay, we'll figure it out. We'll talk it out and we'll try to figure out the problem and look, I'm not going to lie, our fight hurt. We wouldn't have been fighting so much if it didn't hurt. But that doesn't stop me from loving you. I love you more than our fights and our arguments. We'll work on our problems and we'll get through it, we'll learn how to deal with it together.

I'm an asshole and you're a sarcastic little shit. Maybe it should be a surprise that it took so long for us to fight, but it happened and I'm sorry for upsetting you. I love you and I'll give you a list of reasons why if I need to.

Maybe you should do that. Ask me, Remus. Ask me all the ways you make me fall in love with you.

May 28, 1980

It's weird coming home to an empty house.

It's not really empty. Katie's here and so is Firebolt, but she's asleep and the cat probably is, too. You're not here, and maybe it means I'm spoiled, but you're nice to come home to.

I thought of asking you about moving to Bulgaria once, I don't think I ever told you that. After they invited creatures to immigrate there because of that idiot political candidate, I thought maybe life would easier for you there, but it's not about easy. I know you and I know me, neither of us are really going to leave here with everything going on right now, not forever. Maybe one day we'll live in Wales or France or Spain, but we're needed here right now.

I"m not going to run away from that. Not from the war and not from you. When you come back, I want you to remember that you're stuck with me. No receipts, no returns.

I think Katie misses you, I know I do. I miss your smart mouth, sassing off at me when you're feeling like a brat or spouting off some fact that no one else knows because you're the smartest guy in the room. It's your mouth I noticed first, and for completely innocent reasons, so don't even think I don't like your attitude. And yeah, sometimes I enjoy getting onto you for your attitude, too, but I like to think you enjoy it.

You know what, I'm going to keep going.

I enjoy the way you get under my skin, the way that you make me reaction ways that no one else does and how you get me to come alive. I feel like you make me learn and grown as a person and let me tell you, there's a school full of teachers that tried that for years and you've got them all beat. Yes, including my History teacher. Feel smug.

I love the way your face lights up when you laugh. But a specific laugh. I can picture it in my head, it's carefree and makes you look like you stopped worrying for a minutes and it gives you these little wrinkles while your eyes shine. I can't believe you have me so wrapped around your finger that I"m weak for a laugh, but I knew I was doomed to that months ago. You should come with a warning sigh, Remus Lupin, making stomachs flip with just a sound.

And I love you for opening up to me. I love you for trusting me even when I screw up. I love you for messing up with me and that fact that you and I are learning and improving together because I don't know if I've ever had that with someone else. Even if I have, I know it wouldn't be the same because no one else is you.

Come home safely.

June 19, 1980

I know you and Katie are out doing bonding errands or something like that right now, but you missed the post and we just got a letter about Katie's one year check up. You probably have no idea why I'm writing you a letter about a check up reminder (yes, I wrote it in the calendar on the fridge, it's fine), but it made me think of something. It seems weird that she's already going to be a year old, she wasn't that grown up when she came here, right?

So, I consulted the calendar and you know what I realized? You and I have been parents for two months as of today. Two months doesn't seem like a long time, but that's longer than it feels. Didn't we just have that party to con diapers and baby wipes out of everyone? Aren't we still consulting baby books whenever anything seems odd with her? Okay, maybe you're not, maybe you have the milestones and worries for the next three months memorized, but I like to double check. My point is, when did it get to be two months?

I still end up with this weird feeling sometimes in my chest when I see the two of you curled up asleep. It's not exactly butterflies, more like bone deep contentment. A slow, calming reminder that yes, you are mine. You're my family and I"m going to take care of you. And I’m lucky to have you, you know?

But it seems like I shouldn't be having moments like that still after two months, that I would have adjusted to it. But I hope that I always have them. Not every time, but every so often, after it's been weeks of temper tantrums and job schedules, when life has been busy or hectic or stressful or whatever negative term you want to attach to it. I hope I don't ever have a last time where I look at the pair of you and have everything go quiet because for one single, peaceful moment, I get to appreciate what I want. Because both of you deserve better than to be taken for granted.

I'll try not to be too mushy and sentimental when you get back, but if I kiss you hard as soon as you walk through the door, this letter will let you know where. Here's to two months as parents, baby, and a hell of a lot longer.

#Remus (I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams)#remuslxpns

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