#this DOES mean that henry joins them all from the beginning

[shayberri789]

Thinking of my "blue Sargent aglionby student" au where blue Cross dresses and attends Aglionby again

[evilwickedme]

I said I'd never do jumblr content again and yet here I am because this keeps coming up and it's like the only thing I can think about. That said I will not hesitate to turn off reblogs if y'all are horrible in the notes again, and be warned that I will be blocking anybody who supports any of the theories I mention immediately

There is no such thing as a conspiracy theory that isn't antisemitic. There is no such animal

Antisemitic conspiracy theories go back thousands of years. The ones that still have the most hold on culture to this day are the blood libel, and the protocols of the elders of zion

The blood libel was an accusation that would be brought against Jewish populations in Europe often but especially around Passover claiming that we were killing Christian children for ritual purposes, usually to use their blood for baking matza or other nonsense (it is important to me that you know that this is nonsense. It is horrible and damaging but also to the core a ridiculous lie that never at any point made any sense. They just didn't care). Debatably this trope is present in the merchant of Venice. Undebatably Jews were killed because people did and still do sincerely believe this

The protocols of the elders of zion is a fictitious document published in Russia at the very beginning of the 20th century, supposedly detailing the meetings of the Jewish people who secretly run the world. The protocols were almost immediately proven to be a rip off of another document - ah, plagiarism - but that hasn't stopped antisemites from embracing it wholeheartedly (special thanks fuck you to Henry Ford for publishing them in his newspaper, spreading it across the USA). It built on previous antisemitic tropes, from the greedy banker trope (Jews were forced to be money lenders in medieval Europe as it was forbidden in Christianity and Jews weren't allowed to join any guilds, preventing them from making money in any other capacity - the reason why there are so many Jews in Hollywood is identical, but in the early 20th century) to the concept of dual loyalty (i.e. Jewish are loyal to ourselves above all else and cannot be trusted to be loyal to the country where we live, see: modern trope that every Jew is probably loyal to Israel and the subsequent idea that it's okay to ask every single diaspora Jew how they feel about Israel immediately upon meeting them). It's also worth noting that the word cabal, used to denote the shadowy organizations that supposedly control the world, comes from kabbala, which is Jewish mysticism

The idea of lizard people, created by a guy literally named Icke because he is a gross human being, was designed to repackage the antisemitic shadow cabal concept to be supposedly more palatable

Most qanon theories also build on all of this, such as world leaders preying on children (remember pizzagate?)

But more importantly conspiratorial thinking always positions you as the good guy standing against a mysterious "them", an other which is influencing things behind the scenes. The Jew is the ultimate other, and specifically an other that supposedly forms a shadowy world government, controlling everything and yet somehow not managing to get rid of antisemitism (see: protocols of Zion, lizard people, we control Hollywood and the government which is of course conspiring against you). There is no way to decouple the idea of an evil shadowy organization (usually also referred to as a cabal to really hammer it in) from antisemitism and antisemitic tropes

And this means that even supposedly "harmless" conspiracy theories attract antisemites and train people who aren't necessarily rabid antisemites to confirm those kinds of biases. Obviously Qanon and lizard people are antisemitic, but what does the moon landing have to do with Jews? Well, it was Hollywood and the government that faked it, obviously. Hell, even the conspiracy that Taylor Swift is secretly a lesbian and is either still secretly dating or is exes with Karlie Kloss is riddled with antisemitism -

Okay so I need to explain my position on this because I fucking hate this conspiracy theory, and the fact that most people simply won't acknowledge that that's what it is. Firstly, Taylor Swift has stated that she is not gay or considers herself an ally at least three times off the top of my head, and specifically denied that she was dating Karlie Kloss. Secondly, outing people is wrong. Thirdly, the conspiracy theory hinges on the idea that she would be risking her career by coming out, except that she's proven that basically no controversy can come in the way of her career, she's already "come out" as an ally, donated to glaad and the equality act, promoted queer musicians & artists & designers (there was a song in the reputation tour that was dedicated to a gay designer every single night of the tour). So what's stopping her from coming out at this point? Mysterious forces, clearly. The antisemitism in that I've already explained, but also the virulent antisemitism among Kaylor shippers aimed at her husband and at the fact that she converted to Judaism is fucking disgusting

Again: even a supposedly harmless conspiracy theory leads to antisemitism and attracts antisemites

A few years ago I tried to rewatch white collar cause I remembered really enjoying that show as a preteen and after around a season I just couldn't stand it anymore, because all I wanted to do was jump into the universe and yell at Mozzie to shut the fuck up because these conspiracy theories were barely presented as a joke and never challenged even once by any of the characters. When I rewatched that 70s show it also fucking sucked, but at least it wasn't showing up in every single episode. The blacklist focuses entirely on a literal Cabal, that's what they're called

This stuff is so normalized and it's fucking everywhere and it's exhausting. Jews are to this day being murdered over this. I can't change the world by myself, unfortunately, but if you don't have a specific person to blame for your troubles, shut the fuck up. Just shut up. There is no conspiracy against you. Sometimes life just sucks. Or definitely does for the Jews who get shot at over this shit

Again, I'll be blocking anybody who parrots this bullshit in the comments but especially fucking gaylors y'all are one of the main reasons that being a fan of Taylor Swift's music is fucking unbearable. Just accept you can connect to music made by somebody different than yourself it's not that difficult of a concept

[hussyknee]

Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition Henry PoV bonus chapter by Casey Mcquiston.

(transcribed from the page pictures posted)

This is the coda to the end of the book, so don't read it if you haven't read the book first. Sadly, the Collector's Edition doesn't seem to be available on Kindle so. Arrrr matey.

Download link for file at the end.

....

HENRY

“I am not asking you to believe in it, or even to like it,” Henry says stonily. It’s been a long morning already. He is beginning to perspire. “I am simply asking you to show a modicum of respect.”

“To–to your quiche?”

“Yes. To my quiche.”

Bea puts down her tape gun and wipes her eyes. “Pez!”

“Yes?”

“Henry says he’s going to make us a quiche!”

Pez’s squawk of a laugh bounces down the stairs. “Pull the other one!”

“I make them all the time for Alex,” Henry insists. “They are perfectly edible.”

“So, when you promised us breakfast if we got up early to help you.” Bea says, “you meant that you were going to make us breakfast?”

“Yes!” Henry says hotly. “Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry!” Bea says. “It’s only that...well, Henry, the last time you cooked breakfast for me, you were twelve and you put a sausage in the microwave until it exploded.”

“That was your idea! And it’s been ages since then! I’ve studied, all right? I’m quite good now. Those pictures I send the group chat aren’t just for show.”

“Oh, aren’t they?” Bea says rudely, as if his incredibly generous offer to cook her a shallot-and-thyme quiche with mushrooms from the farmer’s market means nothing at all. As if he’s lived in this house for five entire years without learning to use its kitchen.

Perhaps if their lives weren’t so chaotic, if Henry weren’t flying out of New York every time Bea had a spare moment to fly in, he could have proven this to her earlier. But Pez, who lives mostly in the city now and visits so frequently he’s earned his own Secret Service code name (Cardinal, since Henry is Bishop), should know better.

“Percy Okonjo,” Henry says as Pez joins them, “you were here last weekend when I made mince pie. You loved it.”

“Did I?” Pez wonders aloud, with an annoyingly Bea-like lilt.

“Look at this apron!” Henry gestures to himself and the navy blue apron he’s wearing. Alex gave it to him for his birthday last year. “Would a man who can’t make a quiche have an apron like this? It’s monogrammed.”

“You’re royalty, babes,” Pez points out. “Everything you own is monogrammed.”

From the pocket of his serious-home-cook apron, his phone buzzes. Reinforcements. The FaceTime connects, and Alex says, “Good morning, love of my li–”

“Alex,” Henry interrupts, “tell them about my quiches.”

Alex pushes up his sunglasses and frowns into the camera. He looks so lovely with his faded T-shirt and jean jacket and shaggy hair. Pure American heartthrob, might as well have a cowboy hat on. Henry never does tire of it.

“Sorry?”

“Bea and Pez don’t believe I can make a quiche.”

“What? Have they seen your apron?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Henry’s quiches are great!” Alex says loudly, to the kitchen at large. “I almost never find shells in them!”

That sets Bea and Pez off again. On the screen, Alex’s face crinkles into laughter.

“Thank you very much, Alex, you’ve been a tremendous help,” Henry groans. “How are things? Florist this morning, wasn’t it?”

“Just finishing up.” Alex says with a grin. “Final approvals done. Everything looks great.”

With only one week until moving day and two until the wedding, it made sense to divide and conquer. Henry agreed to stay in New York and finish packing up the brownstone with help from Bea and Pez, while Alex, June, and Nora are ticking off the last of their checklists in Texas.

“Of all the surprises that wedding planning has brought us,” Henry says, “your ability to micromanage floral arrangements has certainly been...one of them.”

“You know I love to curate a vibe,” Alex says.

“That you do,” Henry agrees. “Where are the girls?”

“Getting donuts,” Pez answers before Alex can. He holds up his phone, open to a photo of June blowing a kiss while Nora fellates an éclair.

“Donuts!” Bea says. “Now there’s an idea!”

They spend the rest of the day drowning in cardboard boxes and bin liners, packing everything but the furniture and the downstairs television. Pez reminds him once an hour that they could pay someone to do this, but Bea is stubborn, and Henry is reluctant to let anyone else wade into all the intimate trappings of his and Alex’s life. It was bad enough explaining the contents of the trick drawer in their dresser to Pez, much less some mover he’s never met.

When it’s done, Bea puts A Knight’s Tale on in the living room and promptly falls asleep on Pez’s lap. Pez passes out too, but Henry stays awake, because Heath Ledger deserves an audience. And because he knows if he doesn't wake Bea and move her to the guest bedroom, he'll have to hear about her back spasms in the morning.

David hops up beside him on the loveseat, and Henry strokes the top of his snout until his little body relaxes into Henry's side.

"Nervous old boy," Henry hums. It still does seem like the ultimate irony that the dog he adopted for emotional support has anxiety. David has grown more and more worried all week, as more and more of his home disappeared into boxes. "We won't leave you, I promise."

The brownstone has been a good house for them. Sturdy brick walls, neighbors that actually let them be. Henry has loved it more than he ever loved Kensington, or at least as much as he loved Kensington when his parents both lived there too. Some mornings, when he comes downstairs to find Alex with the coffeepot and the kettle already on, he feels the way he did when his family all slept under one roof. This roof is quite a bit smaller than that one, but the feeling isn't.

So, perhaps David hasn't got entirely the wrong idea. It is hard to let the place go. For the past month, Alex has kept asking Henry why he's staring, and the truth is that he's been committing to memory exactly how Alex looks in every room. How the bannister fits in his hand, the place on the foyer wall where he always braces himself to pull on his shoes.

Everything that's happened in the past five years has happened, at least in part, inside this house.

…

It's seven months after Alex's mother's second inauguration, and Henry is wishing he had never even heard the word "credenza." Then he wouldn't have to decide where to put one. Alex is arriving in half an hour to help him move it, but Henry still doesn't know where. Across from the fireplace, perhaps? But what if he wants to put a sofa there? Does he want a regular sofa, or a sectional? Should it go upstairs, in his study? Or should he leave room for bookcases?

He longs to be back on a beach, sipping something from a pineapple.

It’s been a long, glorious summer since Alex packed up his White House bedroom, called Henry, and asked, "Do you want to get the fuck off the continent?" They did Dubai first, then Lagos. Rio, for old time's sake. Buenos Aires, paper lanterns in moonlight and Alex flirting with the bartender for free drinks. June through August became a lovely blur: Alex asleep against his shoulder on the plane, Alex throwing his Portuguese phrase book out the window of a speeding car, sand in unmentionable places, Alex Alex Alex. Endless runways and half-arsed disguises, swimsuits that got smaller and smaller until they simply didn't wear them anymore. Falling in love, the sequel, with fresh suntans and all the time in the world.

And now here they are in Park Slope, where Alex is renting the second floor of a brownstone two blocks from Henry's.

It's practical, they agreed, to live in the same neighborhood before they live at the same address. They've scarcely gotten a chance to date the normal way yet– if it can be called "normal" when their combined security teams are headquartered in an empty apartment down the street. Still, Henry wants this to last.

They've sprinted headlong into everything so far, but now he wants move slowly, in delicious increments. He wants to savor nights, minutes, firsts, to covet them and then let them dissolve on his tongue, like the sugar cubes he snuck off his gran's filigreed tea trays when he was small. He wants a life.

He wants someone to tell him where to put this damned credenza.

It's a vintage Broyhill Brasilia piece, walnut with clever brass drawer pulls. June helped him pick it out when she was in town with meeting her editor, but she never gave him any advice on where it should go. He hasn't ever been allowed to decide where furniture should go before.

So, it’s...there, in the center of the empty living room, the first piece in the entire house.

“Maybe you could start with a rug or two,” says Alex from the foyer.

Henry turns to find him with his keys in one hand and a paper bag in the other, smiling in a beam of mid-morning light, and, ah. Yes. There it is. That sweet, sharp gasp of nerves. The half second when he forgets how to use his mouth. If he knows nothing else, at least one certainty remains, which is that seeing Alex Claremont-Diaz in the flesh will always do this to him.

Alex in a photo is handsome, but Alex in life is a symphony. He’s refracted light with a cherry cola chaser. He’s got a Fibonacci jawline and a troublemaker smile and thick forearms built for posing in doorways with his sleeves rolled and thumbing corks out of champagne bottles. The first time Henry ever told Pez about him, he said, “God, but he’s lethal.” It’s only worse once you get to know him.

“Weird place for a credenza,” Alex comments. He kisses Henry’s cheek, then passes him a warm bundle wrapped in parchment paper. “Hope you like sausage-egg-and-cheese.”

“I don’t know where to put it.”

“Sandwich goes in your mouth, typically.”

“The credenza.”

“Ohhh, right,” Alex says, pretending to have just caught on. He winks. Henry sighs theatrically but accepts a second kiss, on the lips this time. “Why don’t you just put it right here?”

He points to his left, where a blank wall stretches from the front door to the foot of the stairs. It does, upon closer inspection, appear to be the exact right size.

“Oh,” Henry says.

This is where they overlap. Where he ends and Alex begins. Great gooey puddle of feelings, meet course of action; endless burning energy, meet point of focus. Agonies, meet your most obvious, most natural, most inevitable conclusions. It’s frightening sometimes for a person like Henry, who has spent his entire life pedaling his agonies about like baguettes in a posh little bicycle basket. What is he to do with them now?

Yes," Henry concedes, "I suppose I could," and Alex laughs.

...

It's the summer of 2022. Henry has opened his third shelter, and Alex has just finished bulldozing his first year at NYU Law.

A few boxes of books still wait at Alex's place, but otherwise, he lives in Henry's brownstone now. Their brownstone. A UT pennant beside a Chelsea scarf on the living room wall. A fridge full of Topo Chico and Bulmers. Two pairs of shoes by the front door, brown Barker derbies and Reebok trainers. Nobody could mistake it for anyone else's.

It's their first Chore Sunday (Alex's idea), and Henry has put the last of the laundry in the dryer. He's in the kitchen doorway, watching Alex unload the dishwasher.

Alex once told Henry the type of man he's typically attracted to: tall, broad-shouldered, pretty eyes, a little haunted. Bit of attitude and a smile that makes you curious. For Henry, it's never been so simple. He liked boys in his classes because they bothered with the assigned readings and fancied one of Philip's awful Eton friends because he could sail and smelled of cinnamon. The only thing all his Oxford boys had in common was that they didn't know how to speak to him. He's never had a type, and he's always been sure Alex was singular, anyway. Alex is unlike anyone he's ever met before or since.

But here, now, watching Alex bend to remove a salad bowl from the bottom rack, he is confronted with the hard truth. All those boys did, actually, share one trait.

"Are you gonna help me with this," Alex says without even an investigatory glance over his shoulder, "or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?"

...

It’s Christmas 2022, their first since Alex officially moved in, and Henry is going to make a yule log if it kills him.

Perhaps he’s been too ambitious. He’s rather new to all. Growing up, he was rarely permitted in the kitchens, and he concentrated his uni diet on fast food and takeaway. He can make toast and boil an egg, and he’s got a deft hand with the coffee percolator and a gin swizzle from time to time. He knows about food– the finest foods, actually, he’s yet to meet an Englishman who can select a better brie– but he never learned to cook, until recently.

Recently, as in when Alex became too fanatically involved in his second-year coursework to remember to feed himself.

It began with force-feeding Alex a bacon butty twice a week. Henry’s arms suffered little constellations of grease burns, but bacon was easy. And those faded, so they didn’t deter him for long. Curiosity piqued, he taught himself the basics of pasta, how one can simmer almost anything with garlic and onion and butter and it will taste good over noodles. It bolstered his confidence enough to truly commit, and now, between hours at the shelters and video calls with his mum, he watches tutorial after tutorial on how to brown butter and roast chicken. Only half of what he makes turns out the color it’s meant to, but he loves it.

He loves walking to the market on the corner and hunting down specific ingredients from the family recipes June sends him. In fact, it’s become such a regular pastime that the paparazzi have cottoned on, which is why his mother finally forced his security team to hire an actual body double. Now some bloke named Angus with his height and build and nearly the same face goes on diversionary strolls while Henry peruses jarred chilies.

With all his independent studying, he was certain he could manage a dessert. He wanted to do something impressive, since they’ve convinced their families to let them host Christmas dinner. Only, his sponge has gone all wrong, and if he’s learned anything from Bake Off, he knows it’s not meant to have cracked in five places when he tried to roll it up. Paul Hollywood would have him pilloried.

“Think you might’ve left it in too long?” Oscar asks from across the kitchen island. He’s wearing his white elephant prize, a sweatshirt airbrushed with the slogan YOU CAN’T SPELL CONSTITUTION WITHOUT TITS. Inexplicably, Henry’s own mother brought that one. “Lookin’ kinda dry there.”

“I appreciate that you are trying to be helpful,” Henry enunciates, “but if you say one more word I may start crying, and then we’ll both lose some respect for me.”

Later, when Pez has persuaded him to “call it, mate, put it out of its misery,” he carries his disgraced platter of ganache and cake and marzipan out into the living room and lets everyone go at it with spoons. The house feels full to bursting, and not just because of the Christmas crackers. There are all three of Alex’s parents, Henry’s mum, June and Nora, Bea and Pez, Shaan and Zahra on speakerphone, occasionally an awkward Philip and Martha via FaceTime, and, because he had nowhere else to go for the holiday, Angus.

(“I don’t like him,” Alex muttered when Henry suggested inviting his own body double to Christmas dinner.

“Why not?”

“Because he looks exactly like you, but I find him deeply unattractive, and that freaks me out.”)

Ellen tells everyone the story of the year Alex got his first real bike for Christmas and knocked out his two front teeth by Boxing Day, which prompts Catherine to recite eight-year-old Henry’s letter to Father Christmas, in which he requested a leather-bound journal and a holiday to East Wittering so he could gaze at the sea. Bea pushes Henry behind the upright piano, and he takes requests for an hour. It only ends when Pez rewrites half the lyrics to “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” to be about his own lactose intolerance. No one wants to follow “tidings of Lactaid and soy.”

After the third round of mulled wine, when Alex’s parents have called their drivers and his mum has retired to the guest room, June and Nora find themselves under the mistletoe. Everyone whoops and whistles until Nora finally pulls June in by her Christmas-light necklace and kisses her to a round of applause. June's cheeks turn red, but she looks pleased as anything.

"I can't believe it took this long for y'all to finally kiss." Alex says, to which Pez bursts into laughter. "What?"

"Alex," he says fondly. He drains his glass and pecks Alex on the forehead. "You gorgeous, stupid little turnip."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Pez just shakes his head and strolls off to the kitchen.

"Wait," Alex says.

He frowns, like he does when he's trying to recall something incredibly minute and specific from his torts textbook. Then, suddenly, a light goes on, and his own mug is clunking on the lamp table, and he's running off after Pez.

"Pez, what's that supposed to mean?"

...

It's late morning the summer before Alex's last year of law school, 2023, and Alex is the first word out of Henry's mouth.

Truthfully, that's how he begins most mornings. On a Monday morning five time zones away, "Alex" pitched low to the screen of his phone. On a Friday when Alex's early lecture is cancelled, "Alex" in F major, muffled in the pillow as his body moves and the day stretches out before them. Half three the night before an exam, a hoarse "Alex," followed by, "turn the bloody light off and come to bed."

This morning, it's because David is barking at the door. A rainstorm is brewing, and if jet lag didn't have Henry dead under the bedclothes, the gray gloom would. Alex was the one who surfaced from sleep half an hour ago and blearily ordered three entire pancake breakfasts from some 24-hour diner a few neighborhoods over. He should have to get up and answer the door.

“Alex.” Henry mumbles, turning over.

Alex has got the quilt tugged up so high he’s only a shock of wild curls on white linens.

“Nnnghh,” Alex groans from the depths.

“Breakfast is here,” Henry says. The doorbell helpfully rings again. David howls.

Alex’s face appears, pouting. There’s a crease from the pillow down one of his cheekbones, a comet’s tail in a constellation of freckles. “Can you get it?”

Henry rolls his eyes but smiles. Inevitable.

He drags himself out of bed and pulls on the joggers and hoodie from last night’s flight. It’s not until he feels the breeze on his ankles as he descends the stairs that he realizes they’re Alex’s, not his.

On their doorstep, a pink-haired delivery girl is looking bored under her bicycle helmet.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Henry says. He fishes a crumpled bill out of Alex’s pocket. “For your trouble.”

The girl pulls a face.

“Got any real money?” she asks. Her accent reminds him a bit of Alex’s mum.

He blinks down at her hand, which is holding a twenty-pound note. “Ah. Sorry again. Er.” He snatches his wallet out of the bowl on the credenza and gives her all the American dollars he has.

“She’s gone, Davey,” Henry says afterward to David, who’s now fretfully circling the living room. “You’ve protected us from another fearsome home invader. Well done.”

He lets David out into the back garden to do his business, then carries the food upstairs. Shockingly, Alex is awake and propped up against the headboard.

“I’m getting too old for red-eye flights,” Alex says, rubbing his eyes.

“Love, you’re twenty-five,” Henry reminds him. He deposits the bag on the nightstand, and Alex wastes no time tearing through the plastic and tucking in to his breakfast. “And I’m older than you.”

“Yes, you are. But like... I get why we have to go to Philip’s kids’ christenings. The cousins, though?” He sets to work smothering his pancakes in syrup. “I mean, at least my cousins would stack their baptisms. One and done, baby.”

Henry opens his mouth, prepared to answer with one of a thousand things. That the tabloids will have even more of a field day than usual if he stops doing his chores, that there will always be a church dedication or a swan upping or an appointment for a top hat fitting, that he’ll always be obligated to have one foot in London and one day they’ll have to choose where to settle down. It’s far from the first time they’ve had this conversation.

But then Alex shovels a massive bite of pancakes into his mouth and says, “Anyway, I love you. Do you wanna have June and Nora over tomorrow? We can play Mario Party again. I wanna see them get in a fistfight. Oh, and my dad’s in town next week, and he said to tell you he’s bringing that book you asked about–”

And that’s when Henry knows: He doesn’t ever want to go back.

...

It’s the end of spring 2024, and Henry is not eavesdropping, per se. He excused himself to answer a call from Shaan, which really could not be avoided. Shaan has taken to his new life as a househusband with predictable aplomb, and most of his calls these days involve Henry getting to talk to a baby who is clearly destined to become prime minister. He simply can’t send that to voicemail.

It’s the first time they’ve had room in the schedule for his mother to visit since Alex accepted his law job, which Henry understands very little about but has been assured is the most strategic next step for Alex’s career long game. When Henry left the room, Alex was still trying to explain it to Catherine. It all sounds terribly prestigious.

He is just returning to the sitting room with a fresh pot of tea when he hears his name from around the corner.

“–and the next morning Henry and Arthur vanished,” his mother is saying, “and when Uncle Algie called, I told him that Henry couldn’t go on the annual pheasant hunt because he was violently ill, but actually Arthur had taken him to Rome for two weeks on the set of that go on ridiculous car heist film he was working on, the one with, oh, what’s his name–“

“Jason Statham,” Alex says promptly, through wheezing laughter.

“That’s the one!”

“Loved that movie,” Alex says. “I can’t believe Henry got to be on set.”

“It was all Arthur’s idea, but he was right to do it. Uncle Algie is a dreadful bore, and Henry despises his son. Guilford. Did you meet Guilford at the wedding?”

“Henry made sure I avoided it.”

“Yes, that’s for the best,” Catherine says daintily. “He has matured into an absolute dickhead.”

Henry wishes he was in the room to see the way Alex sputters out, “Oh my God.” Alex always forgets that Catherine went to uni and married a commoner from Sheffield.

And then Alex sighs and says, “When Henry and I get married–”

Henry manages to recover the teapot before he drops it.

It’s not a surprise to hear Alex mention marriage. They’ve been sorting it out for years: political logistics and Alex’s child-of-divorce anxiety and a thousand questions about a royal wedding neither of them actually wants to have. He’s already bought an engagement ring, even, and judging by how tetchy Alex gets whenever Henry tries to put his underwear away for him, he’s not the only one.

But it is the first time he’s heard Alex mention it to his mother. He dropped it so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if he’s been talking to her about marrying Henry for years. Henry supposes it’s possible he has been. Is this why Alex had tea with her in London last month and told Henry he wasn’t invited? Have they been conspiring?

They’re discussing hypothetical guest lists now, which cousins secretly hate one another and who wore an inappropriately large fascinator to whose birthday tea, but Henry isn’t listening anymore. He’s thinking of a cafe table in Rome, his dad waving over a second round of gelato.

In his memory, he’s nine years old, and his father is saying, Whoever you marry, Henry, make sure they think your mum is a laugh, because she is. She really is.

He clears his throat and finally rounds the corner. “Tea, anyone?”

...

It’s 2024, and nobody knows they’re engaged.

Granted, they’ve only been engaged for about three hours, but Henry is curious to see how long they can go. It feels nice to keep a secret that doesn’t have to be a secret. It’s more that they’re keeping it like a pet, or something especially beautiful from the garden that they’ve coaxed into a jar.

A record is spinning on the turntable, one of Alex’s, maybe the Joni Mitchell he borrowed from Bea. They’ve shoved their phones under the couch cushions and ordered a pizza the size of the moon, and now they’re sitting in the center of the living room floor, demolishing it. They kiss, then eat more pizza, then get distracted kissing again. Henry licks a streak of pepperoni grease from Alex’s forearm, which is a fantasy he didn’t know he had until he’s living it. They tangle up on the rug, and Henry decides he’ll take Alex sailing next weekend, or even out to the edge of the river, just to see him against a horizon.

Four-nearly-five years in, the main thing he’s learned is that Alex is a world without end. All Henry wants is to go on with him forever. To keep finding new favorite parts, to keep turning things over and studying their soft bellies and finding the best bits.

So, he will.

...

It snows on New Year’s Eve 2024. Alex looks out the window and shrugs off his coat.

The Young America Gala may be no longer, but Nora, June, and Pez aren’t to be stopped from throwing a New Year’s party, especially now that Pez has gotten his own part-time flat in the city. They’re the three fates of New York City’s holiday social circuit: birth (June, managing invitations), life (Pez, topless), and death (Nora, also topless).

“What if,” Alex says, turning to Henry on the foot of the stairs, “we don’t go to the party?”

“Nora will murder me,” Henry says. “She told me she’s not afraid to do that now that I’ve given up my title.”

“Murder is still a crime even if you’re not officially a prince.”

“Yes, but she said, quote,” he puts on his best American accent, “They can’t put me in the Tower anymore. Who’s gonna arrest me now? Mr. Bean?”

“Why don’t we just send Angus? It’s dark. Maybe she won’t notice.”

“Where’s your double, then?”

“We live in New York, I’m sure I can find a male model somewhere.”

“As always, sounding the very bass string of humility.”

“Is that fucking Shakespeare?”

“Henry IV.”

“I’m gonna give you a wedgie, you fucking nerd.”

In the end, it doesn’t take much to convince Henry to stay in. Lately, it never does. Alex texts June a flimsy excuse, and they toe off their shoes and relax out of their button-downs.

Henry does have to admit he’s exhausted, in the way that one only can be on the last day of the year, when every other day of the year piles way up behind it. It’s been a big one: Alex’s first law job, the endless press about Henry’s decision to surrender his title, the engagement, Bea’s wedding, the incident with the croquet mallets and the Dutch ambassador at Bea's wedding.

Sometimes Alex jokes that they squeezed it all into one calendar year because no headline can stick if there's another next week, but it's only half a joke. They've been bone-tired for months.

"I'm surprised you're the one who wants to stay home," Henry says. "I remember a young lothario who lived to ruin people's lives on New Year's Eve."

"Ruin?" Alex says. "That's not how I remember it."

"It certainly felt that way at the time."

They drift to the kitchen, past all the traces of the year. The dried flowers, the new scuffs on the floorboards. The box of bound manuscripts of Henry's first finished poetry-ish short-fiction-ish essay-ish collection. The holiday cards from senators and diplomats and old Texas friends, topped off with Alex's favorite of Rafael Luna and his astonishingly fit partner in matching Christmas jumpers. Henry would think Raf had been forced into it if it hadn't come with a case of beer and a note of thanks for letting him stay over the last time he visited Alex and had one too many tequila shots at drag bingo.

Alex withdraws a bottle of Clicquot from the refrigerator and says, "We're not washed, are we?"

“We're aging," Henry points out.

"That's right," Alex says, eyes immediately sparking at the opportunity. Henry preemptively sighs. "You're almost thirty."

"Almost twenty-eight is not almost thirty."

"It basically is. You're old. You'll be thirty a whole year before me. You'll be popping antacids and I'll be in the club, popping my p-"

"You're not even in the club now."

"I could be, I'm just choosing not to, because I don't want to deal with the snow. That's not aging, it's growth."

He slides Henry a glass of champagne and adds, "It's probably time for us to start talking about what's on your Do Before Thirty list, huh?"

Henry takes the glass and chooses going with Alex's bit over pointing out that he's entering his late twenties, not dying.

“I’ve done quite well on that front so far, actually,” he says. “Wrote a book. Started a nonprofit. Engaged to the love of my life.”

“Involved in an international sex scandal.”

“Shook the hands of all five Spice Girls.”

“Best dressed at the Met Gala.”

“Cried in the Water Lilies room at the MOMA.”

“Grew your hair out, then cut it all off.“

“Taught myself to make beef Wellington.”

“That one’s, uh, still in progress,” Alex hedges. Henry gives him an affronted look. “But, yeah! Definitely. And you got really good at scones.”

“That I did.”

“Right,” Alex agrees. “So what’s left? Streaking? Dropping acid? Having sex on our kitchen island?”

Henry takes a moment with that one.

“Having sex on our kitchen island?”

When the clock strikes the new year, the house is quiet. The timer on the light over the front stoop clicks off. The champagne bottle rests between two glasses on the edge of the sink, spent and sticky around the rim, a single soggy strawberry at the bottom of each flute. Miles out from their apartment, fireworks fight the snow over the East River, but in their kitchen in Park Slope, the only sounds are the two of them.

Henry, almost twenty-eight, presses his warm body to the cool marble and gets his midnight kiss.

...

“Do you know what today is?” Alex asks on a lukewarm September.

It’s 2025. He’s in the doorway of Henry’s study, where Henry has been all evening, answering emails.

“Hm? No.”

When Alex doesn’t immediately fill the silence, Henry looks up from his laptop screen.

“What is it?”

“Five years since the story broke,” Alex says.

It takes a moment for him to realize what story Alex means; there have been so many of them. But of course, he means that gigantic, terrible one. The one that changed their lives forever.

“Oh,” Henry says. He closes his laptop, leaning back in his chair and away from it. “Well. Hated that.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “Zero out of ten. Would not do again.”

His tone is light and casual, but when he folds his arms across his chest, Henry can see his glasses in the front pocket of his flannel. It’s been months and months since the last time Alex didn’t feel confident enough to wear them.

For his part, Henry can remember much of that day, but not all of it. He remembers stirring sugar into his morning tea when Shaan walked in wearing an expression Henry had never seen before. He remembers Pez arriving like the cavalry in Gucci slippers, hustling Henry away from his handlers with the same graceful disdain he used to direct at Eton classmates who stared at them too much. He remembers Bea finding them in the music parlor and refusing to hear Henry’s apology, and he remembers Alex’s call and Alex’s arrival.

The funny part, though, is he can’t remember anything between Bea and Alex. He knows that Philip was involved, and there were stories on every news channel, and he spoke to his mother at some point. But the space in his memory where those hours belong is simply blank. His psychiatrist says it’s post-traumatic stress disorder, and Henry is inclined to agree, considering the two of them spent the entire following year recalibrating Henry’s anxiety and depression medication around the event.

Those hours will always be gone. There are things he will never get back.

Most of the time, though, when he thinks of that day, the second worst thing that's ever happened to him, he thinks of Alex's hand in his under a Buckingham Palace table. He remembers, clear as a bell, Alex's voice telling him they would survive it together. It happened to Alex too. It wasn't what they would have chosen, but it was what they received, and they've done their absolute bloody best with it.

He rises from his desk, crosses to the doorway, and gathers Alex up against his chest. Their size difference isn't that pronounced—Henry is taller but lean, Alex shorter but sturdy—but in moments like this, he's thankful for the way Alex's cheek perfectly aligns with the crook of his neck. He's grateful for how effortless it is to slip a kiss to Alex's temple.

Neither of them says anything else. It's all been said a thousand times, in speeches and through official statements and in the dark when it's only the two of them. It's enough to stand here in the center of the house, in the quiet, and let it hold their weight.

...

At the end of 2025, Henry has a bad day.

There's nothing specific that causes it. The days just happen like this sometimes, even with all the therapy and medication and supportive partnership and fulfilling creative projects in the world. There are other people, he supposes, who don't spend their lives waiting for the next bad day. He's had every bloody luxury but that one.

Alex comes home from work to find him curled up on the armchair in the study, staring out the window at the light-polluted night sky over the row of brownstones across the street.

“What are you doing?" Alex asks him.

"Looking for Orion," Henry deadpans.

Alex kneels on the rug in his tailored suit pants and rolled-up sleeves and rests his cheek on Henry's knee, the way he often does when Henry's in a mood. Henry's fingers slide into his curls. They've grown a bit longer in the past few months. Lately. Alex looks quite like he did when they met, except for the glasses and the stubble dusting his jaw.

“I’m tired of big law, “ Alex confesses. It would appear he’s in a mood too. “I know it’s only been a year and a half, but...I kind of hate it.”

Henry contemplates that, along with the dark circles around Alex’s eyes.

“You don’t have to do it, you know.” Henry tells him.

Alex looks at him like he did in that hotel room in Paris the first time they woke up together, like the only thing he knows for sure about what he’s being offered is that he wants it completely. It’s an intimidating look to receive, but it’s only ever improved Henry’s life in the end.

He kisses Henry’s knuckle, just below his ring.

“I have some ideas.”

...

In February 2026, a flu sweeps through Park Slope. Neither Alex nor Henry can agree on who gave it to whom first– Henry knows it was Alex, since he’s been up late consulting with his mum about a voting rights bill in Texas, and his immune system always suffers when he gets upset about Texas—but regardless, they’re trapped in the brownstone together for a week. At least Alex doesn’t have to work through his illness the way he usually does, since he resigned from his job last month.

Somewhere around day five, Henry realizes it’s the longest consecutive amount of time they’ve both been home in years. They always seem to be leaving or returning: rushing off to appearances, climbing out of security caravans in half-undone suits, meeting Cash at the curb at three in the morning with bags over their shoulders. It’s nice, in a way, to get reacquainted with this home they’ve built together.

While Alex naps, Henry paces the entire floorplan.

The first floor, with its long living room and the original beams and mantelpiece, which Henry had restored before he moved in, because he always has been precious about the history of things. Then the kitchen and the deep blue cabinets and the wide back window over the knotty pine dining table handed down from Alex's dad. Upstairs, on the second floor, the guest bedroom with all of his mum's preferred hand creams in the attached washroom and the sitting room with the shelf of swan figurines Pez started collecting years ago in a dramatic fit of June-related yearning. One more flight up to the top floor, with his study and Alex's office and the hall with their photo from Shaan and Zahra's wedding and, at the far end, their bedroom.

The bedroom is his favorite part of the house, and not only for the obvious reasons, no matter how much Alex tries to imply otherwise with suggestive eyebrows. He loves the high ceiling and the chipped plaster medallion of roses at the center. They picked out the bed together, and every morning that he wakes up in it, he gets to turn over and see Alex's loose pens and glasses wipes scattered atop the dresser and know that this, his life, is still real. Perhaps he likes the room best because it feels separated from every other part of the house, lifted up and bundled in, which is the first time he's ever been safe in a tower.

Most importantly, of all three levels of bay windows jutting from the redbrick front of the brownstone, only the one in the bedroom has a seat. They've filled it with velvet pillows and mossy green cushions, and once or twice a year, on one of their vanishingly rare slow days, Alex will climb in and fall asleep.

That's where he finds Alex when he eases into the room with a mug of soup in each hand. He recognizes the quilt wrapped around him: they slept under it in Alex's childhood twin bed the night Ellen won her second term, and then Alex crammed it into his suitcase and brought it back to Washington.

He stirs as Henry sets the mugs down on the dresser.

“Thanks,” he says in a hoarse voice.

Henry nudges in beside him, gingerly removing Alex's glasses from beneath his elbow before they get crushed.

"You know," Henry says, "I chose this house for the bay windows."

Alex blinks at him, fully awake now. "Really?"

"I thought you might like them. You always talked about the one you grew up with. Hoped they might make the place feel like home."

Alex smiles. "They do."

Henry looks at him in his quilt, sleep-mussed and flushed from fever and overdue for a shave, and he remembers that night in the yellow house in Austin. Before Alex led them back to his old bedroom, he peeled up the cushion in the living room window seat and showed Henry pages of elementary school scribbles still hidden there. And he told Henry that he thought once of hiding a picture there too, if only he'd had the nerve to tear it out of his sister's magazine.

Love, Henry has found, has a way of growing backward. You fall in love with a person in the present, and then every person you've ever been gets to fall in love with every past version of them. A sleep-deprived Georgetown freshman falls in love with an Oxford sophomore who's testing out undoing the top button of his shirts sometimes. A ruddy-cheeked teenager with his nose in a book loves a backtalking lacrosse captain. A boy comes home from school with perfect marks and sees a picture in a magazine, and the boy from the picture pauses on a palace staircase.

The crux of it is, he loves every version of Alex to ever sleep under that quilt. Everything else is mostly set dressing

"I'm having a thought," Henry says.

"Congratulations," Alex deadpans automatically. Then, "Tell me."

"This life we have here," Henry says. "This house. It's good, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course it is."

"But we could have a good life somewhere else too."

Alex frowns. "Like where?"

"Somewhere... farther from everything, maybe? Somewhere we could slow down, and things could be quieter, and you could do the work you want to do. I think I could use some time away from it all, honestly. Maybe I wouldn't even have to have a body double anymore."

Alex considers that for a long moment. They both know where Henry means, even if he doesn't say it. Besides New York and DC, and London on its best days, there's really only one place Alex would seriously consider living. They've joked about it before, but Henry's always thought it might be nice to spend a few years somewhere completely different than he's used to. A place where he could see the stars.

At long last, Alex sniffs and says, "You're gonna fire Angus? He was just starting to grow on me.”

...

“If you don't wake Bea up, you're gonna have to hear about her back spasms in the morning,” says a voice that is most certainly not Heath Ledger's.

Henry startles awake to find Alex leaning over his shoulder from behind the loveseat, curls everywhere. The room is dark, and the end credits are rolling.

"You're not home until tomorrow," Henry mumbles.

"Moved up my flight," Alex says. He's so close to Henry's face, he's gone a bit cross-eyed. His lips bounce off the tip of Henry's nose. "I missed you."

It's only been a few days, but the truth is Henry missed him too. He supposes he should be used to empty beds and time differences by now, especially when they began that way, but he suspects he'll never stop waiting at the door. You know what will be the best part of getting married?" Henry asks Alex.

"The line dancing."

"The way I won't have to miss you nearly as often."

Alex softens, then maneuvers himself over the armrest until he's draped across Henry's lap. David climbs on top of him and curls up on Alex's left buttock.

Letting go of the house has been hard, but this particular decision was easy, once they finally said it out loud. A gradual, careful withdrawal from public life, at least for a few years. They’ve given so much of themselves to the world and had the privilege of feeling a legacy take shape beneath them, but they need rest too.

It was June who convinced them, actually. Even now, there are certain things only June can say to Alex. Early in the spring, when she was finally transitioning out of her speechwriting job for Raf, she called Alex from Colorado and told him she was moving to New York to be closer to Nora and Pez, and she wanted to sublet the brownstone. When Alex pointed out that he was still living in it, she said, "We both know you've been looking at farmhouses in Austin for six months, it's time to shit or get off the pot."

(Henry loves his particular collection of Americans. They truly do say what's on their minds.)

The new house is beautiful. Henry's only seen it in person once, but the previous owner was a reclusive tech executive with shockingly good taste, so Architectural Digest featured it last year. He's had the article open in a tab on his phone for two months, and he scrolls through all those perfectly lit photos twice a day, getting high on possibilities. Lazy mornings in the wide sunroom, midnight dives in the lake. It's easy to imagine Alex mellowing into a brisket-smoking, tamale-rolling Texas dad out there, and it's just as easy to imagine them basking under cedar trees until their mid-thirties and then deciding they're ready for another round. The wonderful thing is, they can take their time either way.

It isn't a full release from their obligations, but it is the next step after formally relinquishing his title. More boundaries, more of their own rules about what they will and won't do. No royal wedding, but a private ceremony at the lake house and a honeymoon unpacking boxes. A job for Alex at a smaller firm where he can finally get his hands in the earth. A quieter life.

"You're right," Alex says. "You know what else is gonna be awesome about married-people life? We can have actual, real-life date nights. Just imagine it: free refills and bottomless chips and salsa."

"Oh, I've got another one," Henry says. “You can finally show me how to navigate an H-E-B."

“Baby, don’t talk dirty to me in front of company.”

“Please,” says a groggy voice from the couch.

“Hi, Bea.”

“Time’s it?”

“One in the morning.”

“Ugh.”

Grumbling and tugging a blanket around herself, Bea wakes Pez and the two of them head off to wash up before bed. The odds of Pez returning to the couch for the night or availing himself of their bed so that Alex has to sleep on the couch are just about even, based on six years of Pez falling asleep at their house. It’s a comfort to know that when they leave the brownstone and June moves in, Pez will still be making himself at home in it.

Downstairs, surrounded by boxes, Alex crawls out of Henry’s lap and slides a large shopping bag out from behind the loveseat. “I brought you something.” Alex says.

Inside the bag is a box made of the sort of heavy cardboard that augurs something expensive. He imagines Alex hurling his patched-up rough-ridden leather duffle into the overhead compartment of the airplane and then sliding this bag under the seat so carefully that there’s not even a crease in the paper.

He takes the lid off the box and unwraps layers of tissue paper to reveal a hat. A cowboy hat. It’s made of gorgeous, thick felt, with a cattleman crown and a satin lining. A nearly identical one has hung in Alex’s office since he moved in, though Alex’s is midnight black and this one is a warm, pale sand. Where Alex’s hatband has a small gold buckle, this one has a silver pin in the shape of an English rose.

“It’s a Stetson,” Alex says. When Henry looks up at him, his cheeks have darkened faintly. “I know it’s not really your thing, but you ride horses, and it’s kind of a big deal where I’m from to get your first Stetson, so I wanted to be the one to give it to you since you’re about to be an honorary Texan. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want–“

“I love it,” Henry interrupts.

Alex pauses, then breaks out in a grin. “You do? I was afraid you’d think it was a joke.”

“It’s the least ridiculous hat I’ve ever been given,” Henry tells him. “It didn’t even come with a matching tailcoat.”

“Nah, but maybe we can get you some Wranglers,” Alex says.

“Some chaps, perhaps.”

“I just told you not to talk dirty to me.”

Henry laughs and kisses him over the open box, thinking of the next year of their lives. Sunday morning fry-ups, swimming holes, a wedding cake that doesn’t wind up on the floor. Tomorrow he needs to ask if Alex checked on the bakery while he was in Austin, and if they have any more packing tape, and whether Amy’s daughter has gotten her flower girl dress yet.

Tonight, though, Alex is home a day early, and the house is making all its soft, familiar night-time sounds around them. No one sees in through the windows. No one comes in through the gate.

“Henry,” says Alex.

“Alex,” says Henry.

“You and me,” Alex says.

“You and me,” Henry agrees.

End.

Download as EPUB

Download as PDF

(Let me know if you have any problems with the links or files.)

[onpurposeilovehimonpurpose]

Touching Tuesday - pt2 - Strong Henry

After King James states that he's read their emails, as intrusive and terrible as that must feel, Henry doesn't recoil at the knowledge that his grandfather read the things he said to Alex. Instead, he continues to be proud and strong and the whole time, Phillip is watching them. Perhaps he realizes that by reading them, there is no way that the king can deny his feelings for Alex, and hopes that he won't ask that. And the smirk they share as they check in with one another says so much more than words could. Also, Henry moves his thumb just barely, soothingly over Alex's finger, it's just a tiny movement, but the gesture makes me swoon.

The looks on their faces after the king acknowledges their love is genuine, even if they don't need the man's validation; they're trying so hard to hold back their happiness because they know they're just beginning the battle with him. Henry is so strong to do this in front of a man who hurt him and demanded his desires stay hidden. Their hands grip one another tightly, supporting each other the way they both need at that moment.

Watching Henry's movements and Alex's with their free hands. It shows their initial reactions to the King telling Henry that his responsibility is not to his heart, but to his country. Alex's reaction is so much smaller in comparison to Henry's, but it's those fingers of his, moving just a bit, as they tend to do whenever he has feelings he's unsure of. Notice Alex swallowing around the lump that probably formed in his throat when he took in what the king was clearly wanting from Henry. An agreement to deny the accusations. Henry's posture slumps a little, and he walks his fingers across his knee and then curls that hand into a fist, holding off the emotions he feels at the unfair expectations the king is pushing on his shoulders. But their joined hands never waver, they don't move at all.

Henry reacting to the king's ridiculous idea that they need to maintain the royal image, considering doing otherwise is out of the question, that he's allowing himself to react with a defiant expression is something he never would've allowed before, he would've controlled it. But then, before he can say anything, Alex questions the king. It's so incredible to me that Alex does this, ignoring the fact that the man is king, he's just another man whose bullshit beliefs should be questioned. It's clear neither one of them at this point cares that he's a king. He's just a man who wants them to repress their feelings, and their relationship and is willing to ignore the love he sees in front of him.

Now I want to talk about the touching and what it means for Henry to no longer hold Alex's hand. This man has taken all the comfort and strength that became a little feedback loop between them, and he's like... "I'm going to stand up for myself on my own right now because Alex doesn't deserve to be considered a problem and neither do I." He says, "You think you can make me get in line by fear or guilt and expectations? You think that I'm only questioning this crap because of the man sitting beside me who I love, who you know I love, is here holding my hand through this? You're very wrong about that." And he goes back to his habit of trying to twirl his ring (even if he's not wearing it) and he situates himself so that he's not so stiff, so that he almost appears like he's relaxing and that this conversation is casual, and he's unbothered.

RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023) dir. Matthew Lopez

Henry asks his question, and he is saying, "You don't want Alex to have a voice, but I will help him have one because I will ask the same damn thing and wait for you to give me the bullshit answer I know is coming because I've decided that I don't care what you say. I'm gonna sit back, and I'm gonna ask this question and watch you squirm as you realize that I am strong and I am my own person, and I deserve more than what you want me to have."

One of the most important / (imo needed) changes from the book to the movie was this scene right here, and I am glad that Matthew Lopez made sure to put this change in. While I do like that Catherine in the book came out of her grief to start to be there for her children, her children were younger in the book. Henry is older in the movie; he is nearing thirty years old, and though he is obviously hurt that his mother isn't around, he is also fully an adult, and I think that after all this time, HE needed to be the one to stand up for himself, for his love and his relationship. He needed to deal with this, and he had Alex's support and Bea's, but this was his moment. He gets to show who he has always been inside and gets the chance to be the man he has become because of knowing Alex and accepting his love and encouragement.

The look on his face as he asks that question tells how differently he values himself and his happiness than what we saw from him previously.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

I didn’t mean for this to be so long, there’s enough for like a prologue too 😅😂 Can I please request a Regina Mills x Daughter!Reader (who’s 7ish yrs older than Henry, and has magic) set during 4x08 (when Marian is frozen and Robin sleeps with Regina)?

Her mom hadn’t come home that night, and Reader’s worried cause she rarely does that, so in morning she uses her mirror to check the vault to see if Regina is there. She sees the whole scene that morning from Robin getting up to when he starts kissing Regina again (she has the sense to stop watching). She uses the mirror again to check what happened last night and she sees how Regina asked him to stay away so she can start to emotionally heal but he came onto her anyway - knowing she needed space but giving her a taste of something she can’t have instead. Reader’s absolutely furious at Robin for messing with Regina’s head yet again. Her anger is simmering all morning, then Henry comes to her and says he thinks something happened with Robin cause mom’s sad, and she can’t tell him what actually happened, so she just says yeah something did but don’t worry cause she’ll handle it.

Later when Reader, Regina, Henry and Emma are in the library, Robin comes in w Roland. She and Henry see Robin show her mom the alternative page and are absolutely fuming. Henry says unsubtly for Roland to come look at the kids books with him, giving reader a ‘handle this’ look, and she magic’s herself and Robin outside. Emma and Regina run outside in time to see her punch him hard in the face, and are in total shock. They watch as she rips into him about how their ‘mom deserves far better than a man who pretends to have honour when it suits him and then fucks her in an underground crypt with his frozen wife 10ft away’. How they’ve watched for weeks as he says one thing then does another; how her mom asked him to stay away so she could begin to heal and instead he poured salt in the wound for his own selfish gratification; how when you pick and choose a code it’s not a code; how even in a weird situation like this with a frozen-undead-wife, he could choose to not repeatedly mess with her mom’s head but he hasn’t. And finally that they’ll help Marian and they’ll always love Roland, but to stay away from her family or he’ll find out what the daughter of an evil queen is truly capable of.

Robin looks shocked and embarrassed at being called out; Emma looks proud of how protective she is and especially proud of the punch she taught reader; and Regina is mostly confused how she knew and bc she thought her kids liked Hood. Emma gets Henry and Roland, and after Robin/Roland leave, tells Regina and Reader she and Henry will meet them at granny’s after they’ve talked. Henry subtly (but Regina still sees) high-fives reader on the way out when he finds out she punched Hood.

Regina finds out why reader knew about the vault, that Henry worries she’s sad after Hood is around, that both kids are genuinely upset at Robin for saying one thing then doing another (and that thankfully Henry didn’t know the details about what happened this time). She’s worried what her daughter thinks of her after the vault. But reader explains that she isn’t judging her, they’re all adults here and sometimes sex is just sex, but what’s upset her is this time it wasn’t, it was him giving her a small glimpse of what she can’t have. And that Regina deserves to be genuinely happy, not just fighting for scraps of happiness decided by an asshole, and Regina is sorry she didn’t see how this was hurting her kids and reader tells her she’s not allowed to apologise bc it’s not her fault. They agree from then on they’ll always make their own fate and hold each other to the promise to believe they deserve to be happy.

They join Emma and Henry at Granny’s and get take out for a family night, and reader and Regina cuddle up together on the sofa the entire evening.

(And for how her being Regina’s child yet still magic could all work, the reader could have been adopted by Regina 7 years before Henry - she was also pre-written in rumples curse like Henry was, bc rumple set in motion for an orphan baby from the EF to arrive 11 years into the curse (his purpose was to make Regina love being a mom so she’d definitely take Henry and his curse would break). The Pan curse she only had to give up one child and since Henry is Emma’s biologically but Reader’s an orphan and from the EF, they decided between the four of them that Emma and Henry would stay together in Boston and Regina and reader would go back to the EF together, but they (sounding horrifyingly like the charmings) promised they’d find each other again one day, since the siblings were distraught at being separated) ❤���✨

How to Throw a Proper Punch

Regina Mills x Daughter!Reader

A/N: Hi! Don't apologize at all! I love getting as much detail as possible! I don't usually write anything other than a romantic relationship so I was really excited to do this request! I really hope you enjoy it. I think it's the longest oneshot I've written.

Warnings: Very light violence, some major angst, and really bad mommy issues

Word count: 2207

Storybrooke

Time of the Dark Curse

“Henry told me you got in trouble for punching a kid at school today.”

You were sitting in a booth at the diner when Emma sat down in front of you, eyeing the bruises on your knuckles. You sighed, closing your book and looking guilty. “Yeah…what about it? Are you gonna lecture me like my mom did?”

Emma scoffed. “No. I’m gonna teach you how to throw a punch properly. Come on.”

You sat in the passenger seat of her car, watching the town go by quietly. Halfway to Henry’s castle, you heard Emma speak up.

“So, why’d you do it?”

“He grabbed my ass,” you mumbled.

“Huh?”

You huffed. “He grabbed my ass! And that’s not just it. He’s been harassing me since freshman year. Mom lectured me about it…but in the end she said she was proud of me.”

“Well, I think that’s the first time Regina and I have ever agreed on something,” Emma said.

“I broke his nose,” you grinned. “In front of the whole class.”

Emma glanced at you. “That’s badass, kid. Good job.”

__________

“Alright, if you’re gonna have to punch someone again, it’ll probably be a straight punch,” Emma said. “You’ll wanna lift your back heel, but not the ball of your foot, okay? When you do this, at the same time, you’re gonna turn your back foot and knee in the direction of the target.”

You stood beside her and mimicked her actions. “Like this?”

“Yeah, good! After you twist your legs toward them,” she continued, “rotate your torso to face them directly. By now, you should already have a fist made. Remember, keep your thumb over your four fingers. Otherwise, you’ll break it.” She brought her curled fist up. “When you bring the fist up, make sure you punch with your palm facing down. Then–this is the important part–you wanna follow through with the punch. You want your arm to be completely extended after you’ve finished.”

You nodded, paying attention to everything she said. You prayed this wouldn’t come in handy, but still, you’d rather be prepared than helpless.

__________

Storybrooke

Four years later

While throwing a proper punch is a good thing to know, the second you showed signs of magic three years later, just days after your twentieth birthday, you knew that would be your first instinct to defend yourself. Your mother couldn’t have been happier, rushing to her vault with you to get her beginner spell books and every piece of knowledge you could ever need.

She demonstrated the first spells she learned, adding on, “If Gold asks you if you want to train with him, don’t.”

“I figured,” you said.

And that was that. She took you to her vault every evening after work. You progressed quickly with a full fireball in your hand within a week.You had never seen her happier than in that moment, that was, until him, yet at the same time, she had never seen such sorrow.

__________

You opened the door to Henry’s bedroom, finding him reading a Wolverine comic book. “Do you know where Mom is?” “No clue,” he responded, not looking up from the pages.

This wasn’t like her. She’d be home for dinner at six o’clock sharp every night. Why was tonight any different?

“Oh, um…okay,” you said. “I’m going to Granny’s to pick up some dinner, do you want me to bring anything home for you?”

It was then that he finally looked up. “Oh, I’m going to Grandma and Grandpa’s tonight.”

After Henry left for the night, you continued to sit in the living room, putting on a random show for background noise as you made yourself a cup of tea. 

How many enemies does this woman have? Every possible scenario ran through your head. She could be dead–two children left behind in a cruel world, one of them left to help raise her brother.

Nine o’clock turned into ten, and ten turned into eleven before you decided to go to bed. You constantly checked your phone for any messages from your mother, finally falling asleep around one. 

You were up at nine, trying to call your mother and making breakfast for yourself when you had an idea. Her mirror. The mirror that she kept in the foyer by the front door. Rushing over, you stand before it and lift your arms, closing your eyes and thinking of what you want to see.

You were in shock. There they were–Robin in his white undershirt and your mother on the steps inside her vault putting her heels back on. But what hurt more was seeing her get a call on her phone, looking at it, and declining it immediately.

The healing. What happened to the healing? The emotional grief she suffered for decades, and was so desperate to heal from. 

You watch her pull away, here her distorted voice saying it wasn’t right. Just a shred of hope you had for her came back–until he pursued her again.

“Are you really that much of a pessimist?” he asked.

It continued. Him backing her into a corner before kissing her once again. You were sick to stomach and quickly backed away from the mirror before giving into the impulse of seeing the night before. 

She told him to stay away. She told him to leave her alone, to let her heal. He didn’t listen. 

You were furious–more than furious. Rage, white hot rage, coursed through your veins, taking over every bit of your sanity. You hated him. You hated him for everything he had done. He messed with her head, messed with her emotions, he messed with her. Everything that she worked for, every bit of herself that she wanted to heal was going down the drain because of him. 

__________

You sat with David and Mary Margaret at the table, flipping through a magazine when Elsa came down from the loft. The second you heard from David about Henry, you rushed over, not even stopping for your morning conversation with Archie.

“How is he?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Well,” Elsa said, “I gave him enough ice for the whole week.”

Mary Margaret looked at her seriously now. “No, I mean, how is he?”

“Upset,” Elsa responded. “I just wanted him to understand that Emma’s magic is tied to her emotions like mine. The reason she hurt him is because she was trying so hard not to hurt him. It sounds very convoluted when I try to explain it, bu–”

You looked up from the magazine. “No,” you said, interrupting her. “It makes perfect sense. I was really angry once before I had control of my powers and I ended up breaking a window by accident.”

Before anyone got a chance to respond, the door flew open. 

“Where’s Henry? Is he okay?” 

Your mood dampened when you saw your mother barge in.

“He’s fine. He’s upstairs,” David said. “We;ve been trying to call you all night.”

“Well I’m sorry if I don’t respond to your every summons!” Regina snapped. “Though I did bring that locator potion you wanted.” She slammed it down on the table. “Maybe next time, try leading with, “thank you”. Now, may I see my son please?”

“You might wanna finish buttoning your shirt first,” you chided as you continued skimming through the magazine and earning yourself a shocked look from your mother.

She opened her mouth before closing it again and buttoning up her blouse.

__________

The library was dead silent as you, Emma, Regina, and Henry walked around, searching for a book that could give you any clues as to how to stop Ingrid. The door opened suddenly, hearing the plastic blinds hitting the glass.

“Robin?”

You heard your mother and left the section you were in, seeing Emma and Henry do the same. Beside Robin, Roland held onto his pant leg.

“Robin, what are you doing here?” Regina asked, glancing around at the three of you.

Robin ignored you, Henry, and Emma, taking a familiar piece of paper out from his back pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Regina.

“What is this?” she gawked

He paused before thinking of the right words to say. “I…borrowed the book. I was looking for anything that could hint to the author, and I found this. It’s an alternative page.”

You, Henry, and Emma saw the page and Henry looked at Roland, saying, “How about we go check out some books in the kids section?” before giving you a look as to say, ‘Handle this’.

The anger you felt in the previous days bubbled up to the surface once again. You could hardly contain yourself before giving into the rage and twisting your hand, teleporting you and Robin to the middle of the Main Street intersection outside the library.

Without a second thought, you remembered all those years ago when Emma taught you how to punch properly. You curled your fist, turned your leg, and socked him right in his nose, putting your entire weight behind the punch.

Emma, Regina, and Henry all made it out just in time to see the entire thing go down.

Robin doubled over, clutching his nose and smearing blood over the lower half of his face. All the while, you were berating him. 

“She deserves so much better than you!” you shouted. “You claim to have honor when it suits you, but then you turn around and fuck her in her crypt where your own wife is ten feet away, frozen!” You took a deep breath, trying to keep tears of anger and frustration at bay, but ultimately failing. “I have watched you say one thing and then do the complete opposite! She told you to stay away! She told you to leave her alone so she could heal! But you still pursued her! You rubbed salt into her wounds! You can’t just pick and choose when to have a code of honor!”

You moved closer to him. “Now, we will continue to help Marian, and continue to love Roland, but–” you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt and lowered your voice “–if you don’t leave her alone, you will find out what the daughter of the once Evil Queen is truly capable of.”

Among your heavy breathing, everyone stood quiet. Robin’s face was red with embarrassment as Emma stood behind you, clearly hiding the fact that she was proud of you, whereas Regina looked confused with Henry trying to hold back a smile.

“Right,” Emma finally said amidst the awkward silence. “Um…Henry, get Roland and I’ll drop him and Robin off at the hospital, and then we can head to Granny’s. I think your sister and Regina need to talk.” She turned to the pair of you. “We’ll meet you there.”

As Henry walks past you, you grin, receiving a subtle high five from him before turning to follow your mother–who quite obviously saw the high five happen judging by the shocked look on her face–home. 

__________

“What was that?” Regina asked as she shut the front door.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

Your mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You’ve been in a terrible mood for the past few days, and now you had this outburst? There’s something clearly wrong!”

“It’s him!” you snap, turning around with your lip trembling. “Robin! He–Ugh! You’re always home at six o’clock sharp! For as long as I can remember, you’ve always been home on time! Until the other night! I asked Henry and he had no clue where you were! I barely slept and your phone kept going to voicemail! I thought you were dead! In the morning I decided to look at the mirror and you were with him. You were with Robin! Even after all the times he’s caused you pain! I get it, we’re adults, we all have that need, and I'm not judging you. But Robin?? Sex can be ‘just sex’, but this wasn’t! He was giving you a small glimpse of what you can’t have. Of what you can’t have until you’ve learned to love yourself despite all of your mistakes! And he’s preventing that from happening.”

You felt relieved to get it off your chest, only slightly guilty, but knowing that your mother needed to hear it.

She sighed. “Does Henry know?”

“That you were with him the other night?” you asked. “No. He was at the Charmings’ the morning I saw. But he’s noticed you’ve been acting differently. Mom, after all that’s happened to you, you deserve genuine happiness and love. But if you don’t heal, and you don’t learn to love yourself, that won’t happen. And because you won’t let that happen, it’s not just hurting you, but also me and Henry.”

“Oh.” She was quiet, almost meek in this moment. “I’m–I am so sorry. I had no idea that this was affecting you both so much.”

You wiped tears from your eyes. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Mom.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before pulling you into an embrace. Kissing you on your head, she said, “Come on, let’s go to Granny’s.”

[violntfemme]

Redcoat OC lore dump!!

By no means is this EVERYTHING about these guys, just the base layers. I also dont go into specifics for a lot of these just because if i did it probably wouldnt line up so..yeah!

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

Right, starting off with Charles Gray! He was born in Maryland on April 14, 1753 to Eleanor Gray and John Gray with three sisters - Mary Gray(last name changed to Fields when she gets married), Eleanor Gray Jr, and Frances Gray. His family was originally from London but they moved to the colonies in 1750, 3 years before he was born. His parents were devout loyalists, so he and his siblings quickly picked up on their beliefs. He primarily lived on his parents' plantation, so he was pretty well off financially and he had no struggle with money his entire life. Come 1773 when Charles is 19, his sister Frances dies and they were pretty close, he struggles to cope with her desth while being in the area she died so, he decides to move out to Pennsylvania where he instead meets Henry and William who become his closest friends and help him through all of that.

Soon enough, April of 1774 comes around and he meets Charlotte Brewer(new character alert~!), who he begins courting soon after. In august of 1774 they begin dating, and in April of 1776 he gets married!! Yeah, he doesnt get happily ever after though. He joins the british army with William and Henry not but a few months later, leaving his newly wed wife behind and hes extra guilty about it. When they meet Hamilton though, he takes an instant liking towards him and tries to make him feel welcome to distract himself from the guilt he feels. Problem is, he never actually told Ham hes married. So, whoops. The rest of the story is whats already written so ah, Hamilton still doesnt know he's married.

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

Okayyy, William Fletcher! William was born in Newcastle on August 12, 1754 to George & Mary Fletcher. He has 6 siblings(im not writing out names.) Though 2 die before William even reaches the age of 1. This hasnt been brought up in the story, but he also can't remember most of his childhood other than the fact his father was shit. It wasnt anything too out of the ordinary for the time period, but it was a borderline abusive dynamic that sparked fights and fucked up his trust, making it really hard to keep stable relationships with anyone in the future. Ever wonder why he 'dislikes' Hamilton so much? Yeah thats why.

Anyway, his family moved to New York in August of 1765, and to Pennsylvania just a few months later. Life is pretty uninteresting for a few years until 1770 comes up(William is 16) and he meets Henry Reed!! Its almost instantaneous how fast they become friends, and in the future William HEAVILY cherishes their friendship because of how rare it was for him to open up to people, moreso with the gender norms in their time period. They bond a lot while theyre in Pennsylvania together and honestly fuck around and get into trouble like normal teenagers until, come 1773, they meet Charles!! He keeps them in check kind of, and they create this little trio. For william, it takes a lot longer to consider him a friend but it does happen, in which he also helps Charles court Charlotte in 1774!!

William is the one who encouraged them all to join the army, and Henry was quick to follow his word. When Hamilton came along in 1777, William really disliked him. He did warm up to him, and they were friends, but then ah..the whole Laurens thing..That trust was INSTANTLY broken and so that leaves us with William as we have it in modern chapters where he comes off as bitchy and rude. Yes, he is bitchy to Hamilton, but thats not his whole character and there is genuine reasons he acts so cold towards Hamilton, and sometimes even Charles. Charles less so because he's known him for longer, but Hamilton is someone he deemed as 'untrustworthy,' and therefore he sets up walls around him.

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

Right! Henry Reed! Out of the group, he's the most tragic. He was Born in South Carolina on January 5, 1757 to Oliver & Molly Reed. He was also raised with two siblings though one died during his childhood and the other was almost an adult when he was born, so he has little recollection of them. His family had originally been from Norwich, but they moved to the colonies in 1745. They moved again however when he was 6 to Pennsylvania, where his mother left him and his father when he was 12. His childhood is kind of shitty overall, and most of his recollection is working in a trading company with his father to support them both after his mother had left. Even before she had left she was emotionally absent though his father had done his best to make up for that loss to little avail.

After his mother had left, Henry and his father did their best to keep afloat and it worked pretty well, though Henry felt somewhat responsible for the reason his mother left. He met William when he was 13, and like i said, they became very close very fast during some of the worst years of their life. Henry became quickly attached not only because of their friendship itself, but because he looked up to William in a sense? Like i said william was 16 when they met and often did things himself and was overly confident, Henry stayed on the sidelines and tried to hide as often as possible.

Anyway, when Charles came along Henry almost saw him as a sort of 'big brother,' and also became attached to him though not nearly as quickly or as hard as he did with william. During the whole Charles-Charlotte thing he kind of stayed off to the side and watched it all happen. He didnt like getting involved with ladies and honestly, he thinks charlotte looked too similar to his own mother. I might as well add on that he ws also extremely jealous of Charles for 'taking williams attention,' but thats not too important other than the fact that he has unresolved attachment issues.

The reason he wants to join the army is mostly because life is boring and he wants purpose, but also he wouldnt have done it if william didnt offer to join first. When he meets hamilton he doesnt mind him, theyre buddies kind of. Though a small disdain grows when he realizes william doesnt like him, and again, he looks up to william so he usually listens to his judgement. This dislike only grows during the laurens fiasco, but like charles, he doesnt HATE hamilton.

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

I could rant about william and henrys whole dynamic if i really wanted to, but in short theyre two guys with similar traumas who found comfort in talking to each other !!! Their friendship in general isnt the healthiest, they both are overly dependent on one another with william having unresolved trust issues and henry with unresolved attachment issues but for the most part they arent miserable so thats what matters the most ig?

[anincompletelist]

5 fics under 500 tag! :D

OKAY here we go - thank you to @happiness-of-the-pursuit for creating such a lovely idea and way to share the love! thank you to @inexplicablymine for tagging me to do the challenge, and thank you to @kiwiana-writes and @read-and-write- for including me in your recs! I appreciate ALL of you guys so much and I hope you're doing well! <3

as for the fics --

I've carried this song in my mind | @kiwiana-writes | T+ | 2k

Henry lays eyes on Alex Claremont-Diaz for the first time in Rio, and it sends such a shockwave of longing and terror into the universe that Arthur feels it.

Or, five times Arthur tries to get Alex and Henry together from beyond the grave, and one time two times his intervention isn’t needed.

--

Henry Fox, All-American Hero | @tintagel-or-cockleshells | T+ | 6k

Henry Fox, normal grad student enjoying the American life, indirectly foils an attempt on the President's life. Naturally, the world falls in love with him. Naturally, Henry wants things to go back to normal. And they will after this medal-and-dinner deal, right? Where the President's extremely hot son is hitting on him?

--

(I know I've already recc'd this next one but I can't NOT include it)

the rubble or our sins | weather_stained | E | 14k

As the Emperor's grandson, Henry despises the gladiator games and resents being forced to attend them — that is, until he sees Alexander fight. 

It's a romance doomed from the very beginning, as Henry's family is already pressuring him into joining the army and finding a wife, but he falls hard for Alex nonetheless. Will Henry find a way to be with him, or will he spend the rest of his life looking back on their time together?

--

covered in you | @hypnostheory | E | 10k | part of this series

Alex blinks at him, tilting his head to the side. Sometimes Alex looks at him like he’s trying to figure out some strange riddle. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Henry switches to the other boot, nodding for Alex to continue. “Do you have a thing for leather?”

Henry blinks. “Erm, no?” He finishes working the leather conditioner in, letting it set. He wipes his hands off on his microfiber cloth, resisting the urge to smell the clean pine tar of the conditioner before he does. “I mean, doesn’t everyone like how leather smells?”

Alex stares at him for a few painful seconds. “Do you just like how it smells?”

--

never be so polite (you forget your power) | Standinginmoonlight | M | 6k

The one where Arthur Fox leaves letters for his children.

--

(and another because I couldn't narrow them down)

I'd hold you as the water rushes in | anonymous | M | 11k

“—lex. Alex.”

Fuck. Where had his mind gone? Alex snaps his eyes to Henry’s, forcing his attention back from where it had drifted. “I’m listening, I’m listening. What were you saying?”

Anyone else would probably be offended, or would just laugh at the clearly conflicting statements that had flown thoughtlessly out of his mouth. Instead, Henry’s brow crinkles, lips downturning as he scans Alex’s face. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange all night.”

Those blue eyes are much easier to deal with through FaceTime. Alex has to look away from them, less he caves and spills everything to Henry. He pastes a smile on, “Fantastic, Your Highness. All this bubbly is going to my head, the sugar’ll get me in the morning.”

-

Or, Alex drops on New Year's Eve

+

that's all for now! I was really surprised to find only a few fics with under 500 kudos in my bookmarks (which all deserve SO much more love) but I've saved all of the 5 under 500 posts I've seen floating around and I'm looking forward to reading them and hopefully collecting some more!

happy reading, and remember to be kind! :D

-- anincompletelist / sarah

[jaylynn1318]

The banana splits movie rewrite(my AU) pt.2

Instead of a formal story, I’m going to pull a hannah gadsby’s douglas, and just tell everything here pt.2

Part1 canon work I forgot to add

28. Drooper and Snorky get teleported to Karl’s workshop, with said whack job in a make shift cage after Harley, Zoe, and Parker trapped him in there and a broken Robo Bingo on the ground. Drooper tried to ignore the animatronic and talk to Karl

Drooper: excuse me sir, do you know where we are?

Karl: what do you mean, my dear Drooper? The same place you been since the beginning of the show🤪

Snorky: *in honks* (well he’s useless)

29. Then both of them hear something in the cellar, and decide to go down and investigate, maybe even finding the rest of their family and get to leave. Ignoring Karl’s pleads

30. Katherine, Jacki, and Henry were able to remain obviously to the horror movie plot fiasco by being more concerned about finding a way home in what use to be the late Rebecca’s office, with no luck.

Katherine:*with her bottom half of her face covered by the book she’s reading* well this sucks

Jacki: at least I’m actually trying to do something while everyone else seems to be goofing off.

Henry: well not our fault the only thing that can get us home is only big enough as a hand held remote

Jacki: oh shut up😠

31. Then they hear the chaos at the sloppy time corse, follow the sound to said corse, and watched helplessly and powerlessly while they learn that Robotic versions of the spilts have gone insane and killing everybody. With Jacki looking like she’s about to vomit when Jonathan got a key shoved into his back so much that his spine was showing, while Henry actually did vomit.

32. Katherine summoned her sword and shield to fight them, but she couldn’t make her legs move towards them and fight. It was also like, every though their killing people, the robots are still a version of her family, and she can’t make herself kill, or seriously hurt her own family. She could, but at the same time, she couldn’t.

32. Jacki spoke up to Katherine and Henry

Jacki: we need to find OUR Fleegle and Bingo and get out of here

Henry: you don’t say?

33. The scene of Robo Drooper chasing Paige, and Paige being found and joining Beth, Austin, and Poppy is mostly the same, the differences are that Thad, Fleegle, and Bingo are also there, and Paige asking what the heck happened to Bingo

Bingo: trust me you don’t want to know

34. We cut back to Drooper and Snorky down in the cellar, both are scared by the whole thing, and Drooper trying to call out for the unaccounted spilts, he gets his wish by Robo Fleegle and Robo Drooper

Drooper: why does this other lion look like a younger version of me? And why does he look stoned?

Robo Drooper punched him out cold for that response, and also knocked out Snorky, but not after a fight with Snorky. He may be old, but he has tusks that he WILL use as weapons, the animatronics only won because Robo Fleegle cheated during the fight.

35. Robo Drooper lost an eye and gain a hole on his upper back due to the fight in this version

36. Katherine, Jacki, and Henry ends up running into Harley, Zoe, and Parker, and then Robo Snorky showed up, and everyone is on edge, with Katherine summoning her shield and putting herself in front of the rest of the kids to protect them.

37. Harley tried to convince Katherine to give Robo Snorky a chance, first by walking up to him, and when Katherine threw her arm out to prevent him from going forward, he tried to talk to her

Harley: please, Snorky’s different

Katherine: that’s probably what he wants you to think, and when we all have our guard down, he’ll reveal he was still with the robotic replica of the spilts the whole time, he’s a b%#ch in elephant’s clothing, I just know it

38. If Katherine actually wanted to hurt Robo Snorky, she would’ve summoned her sword, or used her hydrokinesis and destroyed him already, but she didn’t, she just summoned her shield

39. The rest of the scene, with Harley doing the Snorky shuffle and convincing everyone that Robo Snorky is safe, Katherine, Jacki, and Henry are still on guard, but follows anyways, mostly because they don’t have a choice

40. The adult alliance show up at the workshop, and after trying to get help from Karl, with helpfulness varying from helpful to useless, they all find the cellar, and gets armed with weapons to defend themselves

41. Beth gets a crowbar, Austin and Paige get a wrench, Fleegle armed himself with a sledgehammer, Bingo finds knuckles rings, Thad grabs the blow torch that Karl was using earlier before the spilts got their update, and after briefly considering the shoehorn, She, Thad, and the two spilts noticed the Hooty design, and Karl tells them she was going to be a new member

Fleegle: if they were planning to make a new member after Stevie, than maybe Andy may actually had a point about canceling the show

Everyone looks at him funny

Fleegle: what? Everyone knows if a long running show introduces a new character in the main cast, it’s a sign that the show needs to end

42. When Thad noticed that Hooty’s claws are way to shape to be used on a kids show character outfit, but perfect for defense, Poppy is convinced to use the claws instead of the horn

43. Poppy doesn’t kill Karl here, instead he get killed by Robo Bingo after (seemingly) randomly reactivating and turning on the furnace, getting Karl out of the cell, and burning him alive

44. While walking around the cellar, everyone sees the giant pile of corpses in one of the hallways.

Fleegle: how many are here, 16? 17?

Bingo: 26, none of them are children

Thad: oh thank god

Beth: then where are they?

45. Cue the screams of children, Fleegle and Bingo’s parental instincts kicking in, and everyone in the group running towards the screaming, and the AA sees the kids with chains on their ankles and Robo Fleegle and Drooper running a very twisted version of their show, with them burning and mutilating Stevie’s corpse

Script time

Thad: what do we do?

Bingo: well, why do you think we got weapons? We’re going to fight there

Bingo looks back up to see if there’s anything to give there a advantage

Fleegle: well we also need a plan, I think to think

Poppy: I know, we just run up and beat them, I mean their more of us than them at this point, and also invade you already forgotten, Thad has a blow torch

Paige: that’s probably what all those dead people thought before getting brutally killed by those things

Austin: we need to do something fast before-

Bingo:*begins gasping for air and letting out very hushed yelping* Paul, Paul

46. Paul is Fleegle’s actual first name, why is Bingo using his actual name instead of his nickname here, to signal to both the audience and the AA that something big has really happened.

47. The big something? While Bingo was looking, he saw Drooper and Snorky, HIS Drooper and Snorky, tied up, gagged so they don’t scream for help, and most likely going to get killed in the twisted show

Bingo: It’s Simon and Harley, they got caught in the machine and being use as extra guest for them

Beth: Wait Harley? He’s here?

Austin: Who’s Paul?

Fleegle: Uh, that’s me, my first is Paul

Bingo: No I meant our Drooper and Snorky, they got caught

48. Fleegle really gets worried and scared, Bingo is really considering just winging it and attack, and signals to the captured lion and elephant that they see them and are planning to free them

49. Then the robotic Dog and Lion reveal where Andy has been the whole time, nailed to a wheel with the episode ending options from the show written on it, bloody and beaten and looked like he’s missing a eye

Thad: I felt like I’m going to throw up

Fleegle: Maybe me and Bingo can go around the back, free Drooper and Snorky, and Thad can use the torch on the robots

50. This is when Robo Snorky shows up with Harley, Zoe, Parker, Henry, Jacki, and Katherine

Katherine: *off screen*I freakin knew it

Fleegle: OR I JUST WING IT AND

Fleegle tried togets up and starts running

Fleegle: AND DESTROY THEIR SORRY WIRED AS-

Then he’s pulled back down by Paige

Robo Fleegle: put them with our other friends

51. The robotic Dog and lion didn’t notice that Katherine was suddenly missing from the group(Robo Snorky did, and he still gives Harley the key to undo the chain, everything was going to plan)

52. Robo Fleegle and Robo Drooper turn the wheel of endings, and it doesn’t end on ROCK OUT, OR THE BANANA SPILT, it lands on HAMMER TIME, then Robo Fleegle grabs two huge hammers, not the ones used in the show, two actual hammers. Then they started to beat Andy with it, taking out several of his teeth and his other eye, leaving him blind.

Andy: AAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHH😵 MAKE IT STOPPPP!!! I’M SORRY!! I’M SORRY!!

53. Then Drooper swung a bar on his robotic counterpart head, knocking him to the ground. Turns out, Katherine snuck off to the back, used her sword to slice off the bondage on Drooper and Snorky. Just as this was happening, Harley undid the chain and everyone was running away then..

Walterscheid:*holding several tiny knives* surprise b%#$hes did you forget about me?

Bingo: OH COME ON!! Seriously!?

Yeah… Walterscheid broke into their home and followed them, he didn’t like that they would much rather deal with the robots than with him, so he’s going to kill them for the slight they have his ego

54. Then Robo Bingo shows up, with a axe

Thad: what the- I thought he was dead

Fleegle: guess not

55. Jacki starts messing with the remote again and

Jacki: HEY! I think I got this coordinated to our dimension again🤩

56. Then the remote starts glowing and shaking a lot

Jacki: and it’s activating now!!😬 sh#t

Fleegle: watch your profanity!

57. While all of that is happening, Katherine has more sword out and points it towards Robo Fleegle… but she doesn’t attack, she could destroy the robot, reduce him to a pile of scrap, but she can’t make herself do it

58. Robo Fleegle is even doing the ‘come at me’ move, because even as a robot, he knew that she couldn’t hurt him, and he’s going to milk it for all that it’s worth. But just because Katherine’s unwilling to attack him doesn’t mean that the actual Fleegle, Snorky, and Beth have the same restraint

Beth: come at me you fury son of a b%#$h

Snorky then performed the the wrestler move and elbowed him, which would have been epic if Snorky hadn’t then hissed in honks about his arm, and how old he now was

But it did bring Robo Fleegle down enough to give Beth time to make him look like his terminator look from the actual movie.

59. Also Robo Drooper gets destroyed by Drooper, Thad using the torch on him, just like how the faux lion used a made-shift torch on Jonathan earlier, and Poppy by using the hooty claws on him, then has to fight Walterscheid and his tiny knifes after she was done with the robotic lion.

60. As a calm during the storm, Fleegle and Katherine have a deep and meaningful scene where Fleegle ambits that he feels insecure about his age and that he feels like he can never be a good dad to her, and he wished this entire mess didn’t happen and wants her to be safe

61. Katherine, in a rare moment of talking on screen, tells him that she’ll always choose her spilts, her family and friends, over the newer, ‘better’ replacements, the public could always get another Banana spilts band or show, but she can never get another family, and even though they’ll get get into disagreements and petty fights, they love each other and she will never trade them for anything else

62. Katherine even sheds a few tears when saying that(she still has the ability to force others to cry when she does, but it’s not really shown, Fleegle is also crying, but it’s also because of what’s she’s saying) and some of the tears got of Stevie, bringing her back to life, to the shock of everybody, expect for Andy who’s still blind and has no idea what’s going on, and asking what’s happening

Stevie: why do I look like a Smurf?

63. The remote control violently shakes with a electric glow surrounding it, and then teleports Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper, Snorky, Katherine, the remaining Robo spilts, Beth, Harley, Austin, Zoe, Parker, Thad and Poppy, Paige, Jacki, Henry, Stevie, Andy, and Walterscheid to the spilts universe and in the clubhouse, but just because they in the house doesn’t mean they’re same

Walterscheid:*lets out a laugh that signals that he finally lost what little sanity he had left*

Robo Bingo:* brandish an ax* times almost uppp

Robo Fleegle: the show must go on

64. Then Robo Snorky charged at Robo Bingo to finish him, it’s the Robo Fleegle and Robo Bingo VS. Robo Snorky and Snorky

65. While Walterscheid has him at knife point, Bingo remembers something very important, the illegal exterminator system that the blue peacock owns, and Bingo has a idea to finish this once, and whispering his plan to Fleegle, Drooper, and Katherine, and her friends about it, they immediately get it into action

66. Jacki and Zoe sneaks into Walterscheid’s front yard and activates the illegally owned exterminator system, and turns it all the way up so it’ll be set off if a heavy animal, or robot steps in one of the lasers. Jacki texts Henry that she and Zoe finished their part of the plan and signals them to get into step 2

67. Robo Snorky still gets his robotic heart ripped out by Robo Bingo, with Robo Fleegle holding him back so that the elephant couldn’t fight back, which earns him a stab in the back by the normal Snorky’s tusk. Then both Snorky and Katherine pushes their fight outside, with Poppy, Thad, Stevie, and Beth doing the same with Walterscheid

68. The goal of this? To somehow get all three of them on Walterscheid’s yard and set off the trap

Robo Fleegle: what the?

Walterscheid: oh no 😟

69. And out of something from over the hedge, Everyone has protective eye gear on, except Andy who’s blind, and watch while the illegal exterminator system creates a light beam so big that it was seen in the Milky Way.

70. The only one who’s not watching is Harley as he stays with Robo Snorky in his final moments, and actually talks instead of honks this time

Robo Snorky: this is for the best, we ruined our own reputation, we’ll be seen as monster, we become monsters, and I’m no expectation. Beside I’m replaceable, the studio will just make another me after this

Harley: they can make another spilt, but they’ll never be able to make another you

R.S:*makes a mournful laugh that degrades to honks again before finally kicking the bucket*

71. The light show ends with Robo Fleegle and Bingo deactivated for good and burnt to a point of being unrecognizable, and while Walterscheid survived, he lost most of his feathers, and whatever feathers he had left was bleached pure white from the light blast, and Fleegle was making a call

Caller from the other side: 911, what’s your emergency?

Fleegle: yes I like to report-*fades off while going to the next scene

72. While the police are detaining Walterscheid for owning something illegal and committing breaking and entering, and the attempted murder, with Walterscheid acting like the biggest Karen ever

Poppy: you know, whenever I heard of Walterscheid before, I always thought he at least slightly reasonable, but dear god is he a Karen

Thad: probably a good thing they never actually shown him then.

73. Fleegle managed to get the magic Machine to send everyone to their proper dimension, the ending scene for the movie is different

Since Mitch died earlier, he doesn’t show up

Stevie and Andy are getting medical treatment

While the paramedics are trying to figure out why Stevie is now blue with lighter blue hair, she’s calling in to get HRT and transition

Since Thad is still alive, and thus Poppy doesn’t go insane, they just get exchange numbers with Beth to stay in contact and leave to get new phones

The only animatronic found was the burnt Drooper, the rest are still in the other dimension

Austin and Paige still hit it off and kiss

74. Then Henry remembers that they never started their school project, and it’s due tomorrow

Fleegle: what exactly was the project? I don’t think I ever heard what it was

Kathrine: write a report on a past U.S president

Drooper: what did you get?

Jacki: William Harrison

Fleegle: 🎵William Harrison how do you praise? That guy was dead in thirty days🎵

…

Katherine: holy s%#t we got the easiest president assignment ever

Fleegle: watch your profanity

75. The story ends with them deciding the best way to do the report was for Henry to pretend he was Harrison, dressing up as a old sick guy, and answering questions with the same answer

Jacki: nothing, he died

——————————————————————————

Difference in this version

It’s based on my AU, so my characters and type of humor and character writing was involved

Thad, Stevie, and Andy survived here, Thad with no injuries, Stevie dying but then gets accidentally revived by Katherine and is now blue and transitioning, and Andy is now blinded and lost his job

Thanks to Thad not dying, Poppy never went insane and became Hooty

Mitch died of blood lose and choking at Bingo’s hands instead of getting ran over by Robo Snorky

Stevie is a closeted transgender woman here, mostly to make her a bit more sympathetic to the reader, like she’s still a jerk, it now has a reason of being stuck with a body and job she hates, and does kinda get karma for being horrible by temporary dying and coming back as a blue version of Lars in Steven Universe. Temporary dying will give her some humility and kindness she lacked earlier

I really hope you liked this

Fun fact: After Thad and Poppy got married, they ended up having a son, and they named him after Fleegle’s first name Paul for the dog saving Thad’s live and unknowingly saving the entire family from tragedy.

Also

The spilts actually names(because what kind of same parents would name their kids Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper, and Snorky? Those has to be nicknames)

Fleegle- Paul Howells

Bingo- Montgomery Grey

Drooper- Simon Daniels

Snorky- Harley Fellows

[lyranova]

Hiya Lyra! Saw you reblogged an ask game so here I am!

To (hopefully) give you lots to talk about, I want to ask question #1 from each section of the ask game! ٩( ᐛ )و It’s a few questions but I believe in you!

And I want to direct the questions at our favorite bookworm Alice!

Hiya Erika!! Ooh yay questions for bookworm Alice 🥺, funny enough I actually woke up this morning thinking about her…maybe it’s a sign or something 🤔? But anyway, I hope you enjoy 🥰!

Alice Legolant:

Appearance:

1 What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

Ooo probably her eyes! She loves that they’re the same color as Henry’s, but she also loves that they’re a different shape! They’re a little bit bigger and slightly more round then his, but they’re the exact same shade of yellow which makes her happy (she’s such a daddy’s girl 😭💕!)

Objects:

1 Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

Her books! Usually she’s carrying whatever book she’s reading with her wherever she goes; so for example, she’ll take it on missions or when she and her friends go out into town so that way she can read the nexy chapter if she ever has an opportunity! I can easily see her out on a mission and getting her regular book bag and her grimoire bag confused during a fight which leads her to pull out the book instead of her grimoire 😭!

However, there are times where she leaves her books at home! Such as when she’s out on dates with Mikhail, is spending time with her dad or Mikhail’s family, or when she knows she won’t have time to read (such as when she’s on a serious mission).

Food and Drink:

1 What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Hmm I guess she would be a sweet-tart flavored apple? Something like a Dandee Red, Honeycrisp, etc. Like at first she can be kind of sweet and subtle, but the more you’re around her the sharper one realizes she is (note: when I say sharp i mean in wit, though like Henry, when you mess with her friends and loved ones you’ll see just how sharp her personality can get!)

Weather and Nature:

1 What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Hmm it depends! If she’s wearing her Black Bulls robes she would probably just put the hood up and run to the nearest shelter and wait it out.

But if she doesn’t have her cloak I can see her instantly throwing her book case/bag over her head before realizing that books can’t get wet and she begins to try to shielf her books from the rain while also trying to use her grimoire as some sort of cover for her head XD!

Community and Relationships:

1 Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

Oh definitely company! Even though she’s quiet and kind of keeps to herself she does enjoy having the other Next Gens around even when they get chaotic 😂. I can see her watching/listening to them all play in the common room or outside and being jealous that she can’t join them, so they eventually bring the chaos to her and start being their usual selves in her room. Laughter is the best medicine as they say!

Mind, Body, and Soul:

1 What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Ooh probably her talking a lot when she’s excited about something! Usually she talks at the same, but slightly quicker, pace then Henry. But when she’s really happy or excited about something she begins to talk really, really fast to the point that all her words kind of blend together which makes it hard for others to understand her, so she often has to repeat herself. But it’s something that everyone finds cute and amusing about her!

Hobbies and Activities:

1 What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Ooh depends on what kind of games we’re talking about (board, card, video, or something like “hide and seek”) 🤔! But i think no matter what kind of game it is she wants there to be some kind of fantasy element to it! Even if it’s subtle, she just wants it to be there because it’s something she really enjoys!

[writerinthewinter]

This is, perhaps, the best translation I could find of the poem from Romanian, although I'm still not the happiest with it. I guess one should expect it when translating something from 150 years ago. Alas, I find the poem quite beautiful, and I can think of Henry in it due to something I'd like to call "Stoicism as a form of self-proclaimed superiority", as it is found in the poem. At first glance, you'll find two characters: the lover, a fair-haired woman, and the man, who has very few lines compared to the said lover. This is how I will adress them from now on.

Now, it is not needed, for our scenario, for Henry's lover to be fair-haired; it is simply a motive found in Eminescu's prose - the angelic woman, with fair hair, blue eyes, and delicate form. What would be needed, though, is for the lover to have a dionysian character. What I mean by that? The Apollonian and Dionysian concepts found in philosophy, where, in this case, the dionysian attributes would be represented by pleasure, party, passion, emotions, carpe diem, where the lover would be the the likes of a, so to say, common person. In contrast, the man, and thus Henry, would be the apollonian, the rational, logical and prudent. This, combined with the first few lines: „You again wonder on moon/ And through clouds, in high sky?" and "In vain sunny rivers, see/ Come together in your mind/ Knowledges of every kind/ And the darkness of the sea;/ The old pyramids so clear/ Hurl in air their peak" would bring forth the genious, the contemplative, that we can agree Henry is.

In addition to this, I'd like to add a little commentary over the title itself (If you'd allow me to indulge): Sapphire Flower is, in itself, a contradiction or an opposite of one another. Sapphire, here, represents the colour of the sky, of the out of reach and celestial bodies. (The mot a mot translation would actually be Blue Flower) The flower then should represent the earth, the closeness, what we know and are sure of, concept-wise. If we take this and add the traits of our lovers mentioned above, we see a clear contrast: Henry the Sapphire, the unknown, absurd, the genious, and the lover the Flower, the known, the comfort, the common. I do not mean to make the lover a lesser of the two, but, with the poem and perhaps a bit of Henry's true character, it is inevitable. Let us continue.

After our lover's reproach ("You again wonder…"), we find our first and brief interference from the man, who says: "Little girl told me her thought/ When she sweetly smoothed my head/ Yes, indeed, the truth she said;/ I shut up and laughed a lot." This "little girl" can be viewed in two ways: either as a pet name, or as a subtle form of mockery. We see he does not even attempt to argue with them, and why? Because he knows they simply wouldn't get it. This is where the superiority I mentioned in the beginning rises. Could we not say that is a way Henry would act, especially in a scenario in which his lover wouldn't necessarily be part of the Greek class? Even if they were, his ego, his stoicism would make him feel superior no matter what. But, out of love, he agrees with them; yes, he spends too much time deep in thought, too much time trying to make sense of it all, and too little time spent with them. He knows it, but cannot find it in himself to even try and explain to their little head why. Quite rude, don't you think?

Now, we are found once more in the lover's chants, and this time, they ask of him to join them in nature. Here, as it is the largest portion of the poem (5-12), we could talk for a long while of the nature, it's virgin aspects - "And to fall the rocks do try/ On the gap’s magical scene." (it makes more sense in Romanian, so you shall put a little trust in me) - and how it is the perfect space for the Edenian couple or the Androgyne, whichever you fancy, to reconnect. That, unfortunately, is a bit too much explaining to do for my aching mind. The idea is that they would represent the primordial couple. What I'd like to mention here is the brief game the lovers play, an erotic, teasing game, which in my mind I can perfectly envision with Henry; the beautiful, serene, hidden corner of nature Henry and his lover would find themselves, the talks, the stories he could tell - "Lies and stories tell me thee/ With your tiny mouth while I/ Helped by flowers and the sky/ I will search if you love me." - and how the day would pass to night, and they couldn't find it in themselves to care, until, finally, they shall find their way back to the lover's home, and they shall share one final kiss, one final moment, touch, until…

"After one more kiss she leaves… Like a post I stood in moon! How playful, how beautiful My sapphire flower is."

"And you’re gone my holly magic, And it’s dead this love of our’ Sapphire flower! Sapphire flower!… For all that the world is tragic!"

The man's voice is once more heard, and we know the lover is gone. Had they died, had they left is unimportant to the man, for he knows he's lost them forever. Finally, after taking everything for granted, Henry realises what he's lost, and suddenly, the ancient cannot fill his heart how they once did before.

This would be my unnecessary commentary on romanian prose which I somehow managed to link very weakly to Henry Winter. Hope you enjoyed it if you read it, and I hope even more it made sense.

[mxxnlightwriting]

Writemas 2024 Day 19

Thanks to @agirlandherquill for hosting this wonderful event!

Tari’s Note: We've got about five posts to go! As always, this has minimal editing so you’ll probably spot typos and grammar inconsistencies. Thanks for understanding! I have a masterlist for this challenge if you want to read this story from the beginning!

Prompt(s): "My life is mine, never forget that" and a festival Synopsis: After finishing prepping the tent for the festival, Emily makes an unusual request to Henrietta. Genre/age group: adult contemporary sapphic romance Word Count: 0.8k

The tent was almost ready for the holiday festival taking place the next day, and Emily was sure she hadn’t completed all her tasks. After ditching both Henrietta and Henry the previous day, she wanted to give her everything today and, as she glanced at her scribbled list on a folded piece of paper, she knew she was far from it. She still had to prepare the tables for the food and drinks, make sure all the booths were ready for the local sellers, not to mention counting the bracelets Henrietta had ordered to distribute to the guests.

“What are you still doing here?” Henrietta asked.

“I still have a few things to do.” Emily pointed at her list. “I shouldn’t take long, though.”

“It’s very late already, Emily.” Henrietta crossed the distance between the entrance and Emily and gently pulled her towards the exit. “You can do all that in the morning, don’t worry. We’ll only open the tent in the afternoon, so you have plenty of time to get whatever’s left done.”

“But—”

“Henry also wants to lock everything up,” she added with a slight eyebrow raise. “You should head to the cabin and rest for the rest of the day. You’ve more than earned it.”

Emily’s heart ached at the mention of the cabin. After her argument with her parents and sister, she had been ignoring their phone calls and hadn’t even bothered to join them for a meal. She didn’t like that this was the state of their relationship, but she was tired of pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

“By the way,” Emily said to Henrietta as they left the tent and walked to the town hall building, “you know everything about what’s happening in town, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She narrowed her eyes on Emily. “Are you planning on leaving Rae heartbroken again?”

“No, of course not!” Emily shook her head, a smile spreading across her features. “I was thinking of staying here for a while, but I need a job since I’m currently unemployed. I was wondering if you know of anyone who might need help?”

Henrietta slowed down her steps, turning to face Emily with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” Emily nodded. “That’s… unexpected. I spoke with your father yesterday. He stopped by the house in the afternoon with your mother to let me know they were selling the cabin. I thought the cabin wasn’t for sale? I thought you were spending the holidays with your family?”

Emily shrugged. “They all decided it was best to sell it even if I was against it. I’m staying at the bed and breakfast for the time being until I find a place to stay. I don’t want to spend the holidays with them. I think it’s for the best.”

The old woman kept her attention on Emily for a while as her eyes turned slightly brighter with emotion. “I understand. I’ll ask around town if anyone needs anything and I’ll let you know. Does Rae know you’re planning on staying?”

“Yes. She was the first person I spoke with about this. I really love her, Henrietta.”

“I know.” She squeezed Emily’s shoulder and pointed a finger at her. “But love must be nurtured. It matters that it’s there, but it matters more when it’s acknowledged and taken care of. I’m happy that you’re standing up for yourself, you know. You’ve turned into a remarkable woman, Emily.”

Emily merely nodded, unsure of what to say. She felt different too, lighter in a way. She was ready for whatever else life had in store for her, and for the first time in a really long time, she didn’t feel alone. She wasn’t lonely. She had Rae and Henrietta, not to mention Henry and Ginny and everyone else who was slowly starting to accept her around town, probably after Henrietta put a good word in for her.

This felt like home in a way her house in the city never felt. As she left the town hall towards the bed and breakfast, Emily glanced around and smiled. Most trees and buildings had string lights and other decorations for the festival, and she couldn’t wait and see everything alive tomorrow night.

When her mother called her that evening, she picked up but didn’t entertain much of the conversation. She let her mother know she was planning on staying in town for the holidays, and if she wanted, she could come and visit Emily at the bed and breakfast or spend some time with her at the holiday party in town. Her mother, as usual, tried to argue with Emily saying that this tantrum was getting old and that she should get over it and apologise to her sister. Emily almost laughed in her mother’s face.

“My life is mine and mine alone, Mom,” she said, her voice certain and strong, her chest free from guilt or pain. “Never forget that.”

Because Emily would not forget it. From now on, she was going to carve the life she wanted, and she was going to fight for what she wanted and believed in. If her family didn’t want that for her, well, then they didn’t deserve to be in Emily’s life anymore.

[previous] ● [masterlist] ● [next]

© mxxnlightwriting 2025 All Rights Reserved. Copying, reposting, translating and/or modifications of my work are strictly prohibited.

[kriwix]

My fan transcript of the latest episode TribeTwelve and messages from Twitter.

[All this is written by me and is subjective, based on my personal opinion. If you see factual errors, please let me know.]

[I also use a translator, so I apologize for any mistakes.]

1 message from Twitter and approximate English translation:

"Our ability to perceive entities is directly dependent on our innate perception of those for whom we were created. Unless you are trained to spot camouflage, it is invisible. The suit decides you're blind" - remember it

In the last episode "Facade", in the last seconds, the inscription appears:

At the end of the last series there are the words "The eyes see only what the mind is ready to comprehend" - this is the phrase of Henri Bergson, but if you rely on the Bible, then this is the message to the Romans of the Apostle Paul 1:20:

"...For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse,.." In itself, the greatness of God cannot be seen through the eyes of creation, only known through the world order. The Bible plays a role in deciphering the latest episodes and messages from the official Twitter.

2 message:

This is the most interesting part.

"10 damn years. I used to think posting this video ruined my life. Now I know better I've always been damned, born in hell. I lived by the book of Job, I fell from heaven, and one day I will become Satan."

The book of Job - Job is a pious and immaculate person, but later the devil slanders Job, considering him mercenary and hypocritical, which can be revealed (according to the devil) if wealth is taken away from him. Job is subjected to terrible calamities, but patiently endures them.

Perhaps "...fell from heaven" in the message is also a reference to Job, who lost everything due to slander; the interpretation revolves around "does misfortune always come from divine punishment?"; the book also explains that grief is not necessarily caused by a sin committed, it can be an experience, a lesson, a discipline, or a real punishment. Does this mean that "I lived according to the book of Job" = the unpunished and righteous received calamities? But is he so unpunished?

What role does Satan play in the book of Job? Satan takes everything from Job with God's permission to test, hoping that Job will curse God. "Become Satan" - to become the one who takes away from Job and tests him. Noah lived according to the Book of Job, righteously and trying to fight Satan, but later "falls from heaven" and "becomes Satan" that is, joins the side of the Collective? I think so, because the last words we hear from Milo are "you should read me". And I think this means that in the end Noah joins the Collective, and "becomes Satan", that is, the one who takes away, as it was once taken from him. Noah writes that he will become Satan, because he himself will take from the unpunished. That is, he will enter the Collective and will punish those who did not sin, as he did at the beginning: he suffered losses and suffering, like Job, for verification, and not for punishment.

But what then did Noah experience? There are two options:

1. Noah did not see the real greatness of God, and everything that was in the labyrinth was only a part, or only the beginning

2. Noah saw the greatness of God, which means that he is not the Creation of God, since he could know and see.

But only you can decide that.

You. The one who reads this. On the other side of the screen. Comeclosertous. WENEEDYOU

[rin-sith]

Cartoon Series Pt. 5 | Gregor and the Code of Claw Pt. 1

Here is part 5 in my cartoon/Phineas and Ferb style wallpapers of every TUC quest series ... except hold up, since when is there a quest in CoC? And why is it called CoC Pt. 1?

... Since A Henry Story, actually.

Yes, this is another original quest, exclusive to AHS. In the AHS universe, CoC has like 800% more plot than Collins' CoC. It takes up Part 2 and 3 of AHS 3 (while MoS takes up only Part 1), and so I have decided to do two wallpapers for it, as it's now warranted by the length of this story (for details, see below.)

Because it is original and most of you will have never read it, let me tell you a few core details about this quest and some changes that I've made to CoC in general (spoiling as little as possible):

The first change that I've made to this part of TUC is quite simple: For reasons that I shan't spoil, Luxa and Howard go back to Regalia with Gregor after MoS (not for long though.) And so, the purpose of this quest becomes clear—not long after this return, they all depart yet again to rally potential allies for the war.

Okay, but why do they all look like they suddenly hate each other when the last (MoS) wallpaper was so wholesome? Because war and prophesied deaths aren't enough. We're adding some interpersonal drama on top of that, along with a "mending and repairing relationships and old wounds" storyline. That's all I shall say for now :)

This quest is not particularly long, actually. Although the time passed during the events of CoC has been extended and some of the events rearranged to fit a slightly altered timeline, it only takes up about 2/3 of Part 2.

To give you a rough overview: This quest begins around when Gregor sneaks away to battle in the Firelands in the original CoC (which does not happen in that way), and their return coincides with that first challenge battle (now spanning around a week.) After that, we're following a dual POV (half of the questers remain outside of Regalia with Henry and half inside with Gregor.)

Now you're curious for some more info about the changes to CoC and how this is supposed to work, timeline-wise? I can give you some pointers:

Gregor reads the Prophecy of Time and fetches Sandwich's sword in between the MoS quest and this quest (as you can see, he already has the sword here.)

Gregor isn't in Regalia when the challenge battle starts so Lizzie arrives in Regalia shortly after he returns. Only for the battle after that does he meet Miravet and receive his armor.

The entire diggers plotline has been cut. It made no sense why they would suddenly join this war and overall didn't really fit in general, so they do not appear. The reveal about Sandwich and his war crime against them still happens, but differently.

There is a second main villain—a human—whose identity I won't give away :) Let's just say "When a secret plot is hatching" actually has a meaning now. And there is also much more emphasis on the in-species resistance against the Bane among the gnawers.

After the genocide, only around 30 nibblers are remaining alive. I have no idea why or how Collins thought it was believable that there still were hundreds of them.

Some more key phrases to pique your curiosity:

The truth of Prophecies is not related to the Prophet's moral alignment, and even that may not be as it seemed

It is easier to cling to hope and not despair if you have a working support system and a found family

The marks of secret make an unexpected reappearance

Belonging and family may be found in the darkest hour, not lost

Secret meetings and conspiracies

Recalling that you have choices and agency and that nothing can truly take those away from you is crucial

A knight embodying numbness may be haunting instead of comforting when you wish to cling to your kindness and hope

War is never just, but what follows afterward may be

***

Now, with that in mind, let's look at the art again ... I should probably introduce the characters you won't know yet:

(r.t.l) Hera (a flier they meet during TUC 3.5—more in that wallpaper), (ground) Luxa & Aurora, Ripred, (hanging) Ares, Howard, Gregor (ft. Sandwich's sword), [redacted gnawer name], (hanging) Thanatos & Nike, Henry.

Anyway, if that sounds interesting to you, go read "A Henry Story" 👉 I promise it is very cool, even if you somehow liked CoC, I am confident that you'll enjoy my version (I say this like AHS 3 is done ... I actually do not recommend reading AHS 3 rn, it is currently being massively overhauled and the ending is not done.) I have a post up on my tumblr where I link the first two books though, but you can also find them on Wattpad, Ao3, and Quotev (my favorite<3) as well by simply browsing.

And check out the rest of this art series (on my tumblr feed)! I plan on doing all the quests.

Disclaimer: the bg is a stock image; the rest is drawn by me!

[aimmyarrowshigh]

also! can you tell us a bit about nadia van dyne? i see you write drabbles for her and post about her sometimes but i know NOTHING about her! like? a wasp that was in the red room? fascinating, tell me more

MY BLORBO, NADIA VAN DYNE!

How do I even begin to explain Nadia Van Dyne? Nadia Van Dyne is flawed, but flawless. She has one of the highest IQs in the Marvel Universe and started the Agents of G.I.R.L. to champion women scientists and heroes. I hear her genetic ability to shrink is insured for $10,000. I hear she's taking driving lessons... with Carol Danvers. Her favorite musical artist is Dazzler. One time, she met Doctor Doom on a plane, and they became best friends and he sort of became a good guy for a while. One time, she punched Monica Rappaccini in the face... and it was awesome.

::record scratch::

Okay, now that that's out of my system, seriously for real though, Nadia is the best. Every part of her character creation is that she was made to be my best blorbo girl. I love her.

Quick biography:

Way way way back in the day, Dr. Henry "Hank" Pym fell in love with a Hungarian entomologist (and political prisoner) named Dr. Maria Trovaya, who escaped to the US. She is who got him interested in ants. They got married. They went on their honeymoon to Hungary, where the Red Room kidnapped Maria and faked her murder so that Hank/the Americans wouldn't try to get her back. Hank had a nervous breakdown and got REALLY into ants, became Ant-Man, etc.

MEANWHILE: Maria is alive and being held captive by the Red Room when it's discovered that SHE'S PREGNANT WITH HANK'S BABY. She gives birth in the Red Room and is immediately killed, because now the Red Room doesn't need her -- they have her baby, who they can train from literal birth AND who is the product of TWO geniuses instead of just being ONE genius. Maria survives just long enough to name her Nadia, which means "hope" (because Hope Van Dyne in the MCU actually came first, and Nadia is an homage to her).

(Double meanwhile: Hank meets Janet Van Dyne, whom he thinks looks like 'a less beautiful Maria,' and he is a piece of shit. He marries Janet, is physically and emotionally abusive, Janet gets out, Hank turns into Ultron, it's a whole thing.)

Back in the Red Room, Nadia's FIRST MEMORY IN THIS WORLD is of A KIND MAN WITH A SILVER ARM TELLING HER SHE'S SMART. ::cries for 70 years::

Nadia is raised and trained to be a Red Room agent, but she's put in the science division that I'm forgetting the name of, so she does not have to pass as many physical tests as other Red Room girls (for example, she only has to be able to kill someone in like 14 ways instead of 27). She has one friend in the science division, who is much more into the killing aspect of the Red Room than Nadia is and protects her: Ying. However, because of their closeness, Ying is taken away and reassigned to the normal assassin program. Nadia is alone.

Nadia is determined to escape the Red Room and bring Ying with her, so she eventually manages to acquire black market Pym Particles and experiments with them. She integrates their size-changing properties into her being because hand-wavey superhero science and escapes into the Quantum Realm and thereafter, to America.

She makes her way to Hank's last known address in New Jersey, but oh no, Hank is dead sort of, and also Ultron, sort of, whatever, he's gone. Nadia is crushed that he is dead (she doesn't know about the Ultron part). Nadia decides to become the Wasp and join the Avengers. She saves Vision's life and is like, "YAY I SAVED MY NEPHEW'S LIFE!" and she's not technically wrong. Jarvis immediately is like, "I am adopting this child. Let's go meet Janet."

Janet and Nadia meet by saving the President from a microbomb, idk, it's a whole thing. Anyway, they meet, and Janet immediately just totally falls in love with Nadia and takes her out for a day on the town to experience all of the things she'd never gotten to do before, while living in the Red Room, like ice cream and not being in the Red Room.

Then Civil War II happens and idk whatever.

Then Nadia decides that she is going to form the Agents of G.I.R.L. and that's where her first solo series starts, and you should read it because it's SO GOOD!!!!

Fun Nadia Facts:

Canon aroace!

Canon bipolar representation! Her manic episode is the best-written one that I've ever read.

Canon cute language mix-ups and Russian accent!

Canon thinks of Viv Vision, whom I also deeply love, as her great-niece, and she's again, not wrong!

Janet and Bobbi are co-raising her and Ying! And I ship Janet/Bobbi so much!

Nadia is a badass optimistic traumatized scientist ballerina angel superhero, and I love her.

[my-mt-heart]

Hi, my-mt! Are you ok with some speculation? Don't know if you can because of strike...Well, I've been thinking about the Caryl kids: Sophia, Lydia and Henry..and now, I believe, Laurent. And I have a little theory that I would like your opinion. I see Sophia and Lydia as a pair - both girls had witnessed and/or suffered severe abuse from one of their parents, both are sweet, shy and so afraid, one got forever lost, the other one was saved, nurtured and got to grow up into a happy young woman with a loving found family. Ok, this pair is an easy one to explain.

Could Henry and Laurent be a pair too? Both are naive kids, very loved and treated as special (a prince, a miracle) by their communities, very sheltered, and have to leave their homes so they can learn new things that will help them on their future adult lives and their missions (to become the leader of the Kingdom, to save human kind LOL). Daryl agrees to be their chaperon basically for the same reason. He never developed a full bond with Henry because that wasn't the story being told, but he cared for him and tried to protect him from harm. Carol loved Henry as her own, but, at the beginning, she tried as hell to not be involved with him, and, after, she wasn't fooled by the fact that he, as Sophia, didn't have a mean bone in his body. And we can speculate that Daryl'll become some sort of father figure for Laurent, and that Carol, after meeting him and understanding how important the kid is to Daryl, will care for him too.

So it's like..Sophia and Lydia are their daughters, to them both, while Henry and Laurent are adoptive sons to one of them and cared by the other. If Isabelle dies (and I hope she doesn't, I'm tired of TWD killing off their characters), Carol may or may not become an adoptive mother, and they can wait until Laurent is grown enough and safe to finally leave France. Sophia and Henry die, Lydia and Laurent live, the cycle is finally completed and Carol and Daryl are finally free and at peace to be happy together. *cheers* Okay, what do you think about my half-cooked theory, my-mt? Followers please join in, I would like to see what fellow carylers think too. (( Oh, I don't factor Judith and RJ on this reasoning because I believe Carol and Daryl relate and care for them on a different level, on the primary basis that they are substitute parent figures who stepped in when needed. Yes, those kids are so much loved by Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol but, in the end, that's what they are, uncle and aunt, niece and nephew. Yes, I'm completely ignoring that Judith called Daryl "daddy" on the main show finale because 45 minutes later he left and got himself stranded on fucking France so...also he wanted to run away to New Mexico with his boo and leave the kids to Tia Rosita and Uncle Aaron...so...yeah. ))

Hi there 🙂

I agree with you on the parallels between the two girls. I think Lydia was meant to represent the daughter Caryl saved together. Because they all share a similar background, coming from an abusive home, Daryl and Carol were able to teach her how to rise above that trauma. They showed her how to be part of a family, plus what it really meant to love and be loved. I really wish we got to see more of that dynamic, but imo that’s where the cycle ended. Daryl and Carol were meant to chase their freedom on the road together after that 😒

Henry mattered to Daryl because he mattered to Carol, so it stands to reason any kid Daryl cares about would earn Carol’s love too. But to be completely honest, I’m having a really hard time believing Laurent fits into that equation. Why does Daryl need to be a father figure to him? Because the nun said so? For one thing, that makes me super uneasy. Without even watching, I can tell you his bond with Isabelle is nothing like what he developed with Carol, so that can’t be what’s motivating him. Unless it’s revealed later that Laurent was also abused, Daryl isn’t naturally going to gravitate to him like he did to Carol, Sophia, and Lydia. He just feels like a means to an end to me, though I’m confident the show will try to force an emotional reason and it’ll piss me off 💀

I think after Daryl and Carol help him fulfill his destiny (���‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️), they can leave him in the safe hands of the family he already has. They don’t need to adopt him.

Thank you for sharing your theory. I hope you don’t feel like I’m invalidating you because that’s not the intention. I think what it really comes down to is not trusting Zabel’s writing. Especially not when there’s evidence to suggest he didn’t even bother to watch the flagship show 💀

[fruitviking]

(I also tripped and fell and don't know how this happened)

“By the by,” said Sherlock Holmes with the stem of her pipe between her teeth, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” I said, puffing on my own cigar. We could smoke such things in the privacy of our own home.

“How on earth did you manage to join the army?”

I laughed. “It’s rather a long story.”

Holmes had draped herself over the settee in the lackadaisical manner of a Roman emperor, one slender arm laid along the back and her feet resting in my lap. She regarded me through half-lidded eyes. “I have time.”

“Then allow me to give you a lesson in Watson family history.” I thought it over for a moment. Where to begin? “I originally wanted to go into nursing.”

She smiled. “A regular Florence Nightingale, hm?”

“That was the idea. My father passed away when I was thirteen. Mother was a seamstress, and without his income we struggled to make ends meet. She did try to teach me the skills so I might earn alongside, and I picked up some of it, but I was never as good as her.”

Holmes nodded in understanding. “You used that knowledge to alter your clothing.”

“I’m getting to that.” I leaned back and crossed my ankles. “I had an older brother, too. He brought in money, but not in any reliable way, and he spent most of it on his own bad habits. Still, my mother doted on him. She was devastated when he died, and passed not long after. It wasn’t so much of a surprise to me, really; she already worked herself far too hard, and losing her boy so suddenly was the last straw. That was that.”

“You seem to have lived the unfortunate life of a Dickensian protagonist, my dear Watson,” Holmes commented softly.

I gave her a wry smile. “I suppose it does sound a touch melodramatic.”

“A touch, yes.” She adjusted the folds of her dressing gown over her long legs. “So. Nursing.”

“Nursing. It seemed the right path, alone as I was. The matron at St. Bart’s took me on for training. I found the work fascinated me. I managed to buy myself an old copy of Gray’s Anatomy, along with a few other textbooks, and read them all through over and over, far more than was necessary. A nurse does not perform surgeries, and yet I learned how. I was determined. As time went on I found, however, that in spite of my knowledge and experience, I was very often dismissed. Doctors did not want to hear my suggestions, even when I knew as much as them. It was aggravating. How can a nurse be deemed essential one moment, and an imbecile the next?”

“It is strange that a woman’s delicate sensibilities are not a factor when it comes to a hospital environment.”

“Until they are,” I grumbled. “You understand I am not dismissing the work of nurses, not at all. They are essential, and they do incredible things, in spite of what anyone else may say. I simply realised it was not for me.”

“And now we come to the army.”

I blushed sheepishly. “In answer to your initial question, I joined under my brother’s name.”

“Did you, now.” My friend’s eyes gleamed. I could not fathom what she might be thinking.

“I was surprised that no-one questioned me too closely,” I said, “but I proved myself well enough. Perhaps they were desperate, I don’t know. Henry Watson was sent to Netley, then off with the Northumberland Fusiliers. You know the rest. And you’re correct, by the way - what I learned from my mother was invaluable, not only with adjusting my clothes to hide my shape but for my doctorly duties. I could stitch up a slash from a cutlass with the best of them. I wonder sometimes,” I added with more than a little pride in my tone, “had I not been injured, if they ever would have found me out.”

“Why, Joan Watson, you sly creature.” Holmes sat up straight and brandished her pipe at me accusingly. “There you go, writing what an effective criminal I would make if I used my skills against the law, while you were the one falsifying your identity and qualifications in the name of serving our country. Never again shall I accuse you of being too honest.”

“You never should anyway,” I laughed, “when I continue to lie all the time.”

“We each have our disguises.”

“I prefer the term ‘nom-de-plume’.”

“I shall endeavour to remember that.” She flashed me a wicked grin, then her features softened. She reached out and laced our fingers together. “Hm. John is not so dissimilar to Joan, though you are definitely not a Henry. Watson will do, I think.”

I lifted her pale, elegant hand to my lips. “I’d like that, Holmes.”

oh I tripped I fell I don’t know how this happened