#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.”

[damn-stark]

Chapter 7 Blood on our hands

Tragedy at the Miller’s chapter 7

A/N- someone’s serving c*nt this chapter, so much so that uncle Tommy would be proud. Also there’s one more chapter coming up!

Warning- ANGST, swearing, blood and wounds, violence, long chapter, fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader, OC x fem!reader, Henry x Fem!reader

Episode- 1x09

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

“Y/N, it’s been a long time,” she says with nonchalance as if her men didn’t just attack you. “Sorry—”

“Where are they?” You cut Marlene off without caring whatever was going to come out of her mouth, without trying to be nice in any way because you knew what being here meant. You were once a Firefly after all, and you can’t be naive anymore.

Marlene sighs. “Your dad is a couple floors above, and Ellie,” she pauses briefly, but it’s enough for you to find suspicion. “Is getting prepped for surgery.”

What?

You blink in confusion and probe immediately. “What are you talking about surgery?”

Marlene sighs, and you ignore your throbbing headache to stand up and shoot her a pointed glare. “Marlene?” You press. “What are you talking about? What’s happening to Ellie?”

“I’ve known you since you were young, when your uncle and you joined us to try and better humanity through all the darkness,” she avoids answering your question, only adding concern and making your annoyance begin to grow. “You left, and I can’t imagine it’s been easy. I mean you’re with your dad again.”

You scoff and stop in your steps before you can get closer to her to let her explain what she’s trying to say.

“But I like to think I still know you,” she continues and takes a step closer to you. “That you still have that same hope for humanity that once blazed in you so bright. I mean I used to admire it, wonder how someone so young still held on through it all. You were an inspiration for a lot of us.” She smiles faintly.

As presumptuous as she is you still have no clue what she’s trying to get at with this sweet talking. What does all this have to do with your question about Ellie?

“Marlene,” you interject. “What are you trying to get at?”

Marlene smirks faintly. “There’s hope y/n. All we fought so hard for has finally accumulated to something bigger than ourselves. All the people we lost finally have meaning, it means that we no longer have to lose anyone else to this virus.”

You narrow your gaze, but not out of more confusion, the words she spoke now are beginning to make sense and pointing to one thing, one person; Ellie.

“Our doctor, he thinks that the Cordyecps in Ellie has grown with her since birth. It produced a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps think she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune.”

Okay? So what? Sure you never figured out why exactly she was different, but what does this have to do with anything? Can't they just run their tests and then get what they need, and let you all leave?

She doesn’t have to stay does she? Not if she doesn’t want to?

“He’s gonna remove it from her,” she continues to add, causing you to scoff softly in disbelief at the sound of her words. “Multiply the cells in a lab. Produce those chemical messengers…and then we can give it to everyone.”

It can work? It will work.

Making a cure will work. There was no doubt about that, but what about Ellie? Cordyceps grow in the brain, if they remove it from her that means that…that…Ellie’s life will come to an end? A life for humanity's salvation. And not just any life, her life. The life of the girl that has been like a sister to you, the girl who saved your own life after Henry died, the girl who helped you find the light in the darkness you had gotten lost in after Sarah died. That same girl.

If they get the cure that means Ellie dies….

All this time you believed, truly believed that it was somehow in the blood, that they’d want to keep her with them forever which is why you wanted her to have a choice between staying or leaving, but now; by the sounds of Marlene’s long talk it seems that they don’t want to give her a choice between living and dying.

Should you?

Sam died because of that same damn virus. You’ve had close friends die; good friends. Their deaths will all have meaning. And this is why you came in the first place, to see Ellie off. Life could be a fraction of what you once knew. There can be peace….

You sigh deeply and step back to sit back down on the couch and drop your head, and repeat everything she said to think about the outcomes.

“You can leave,” she adds and continues to approach you. “Now with your dad, we’ll return your packs and guns, give you a car. Or you can stay and see this through with us. Just tell your dad to leave without a fight.”

No matter how you spin things in your mind, it all ends up coming to the same thing, the same person, Ellie.

“What about her?” You finally break your silence and lift your head to meet her gaze.

Marlene swallows thickly and assures you. “We didn’t tell her, we didn’t cause her any fear, and she won’t suffer any pain.”

They didn’t tell her, so what? They don’t need to run more tests? They’re just going to throw her on the medical table and just what? Kill her now?

“Just like that?” You share your thoughts. “No more tests or nothing?”

Marlene shakes her head. “No, the doctor has all he needs.”

You blink rapidly in disbelief, feeling your annoyance and anger heighten.

“So?” You spat. “You’re just going to murder her. You’re not gonna ask what she wants?” You stand up and look at Marlene with a pointed glare, making her step back, and causing a man to push the door open to peek inside. “Immune or not, Ellie is still a human. Have you cared to ask her for her choice? Have you cared to, I don’t know, wait it out? For-for a different alternative,” it slips mindlessly. “One that doesn't involve her to die?”

Marlene lets out a slow deep breath and retorts. “We can’t put the fate of humanity up for gamble for one person.”

It hits you now, like a slap to the face. What good is peace without her? Why did you debate that before? After all Sam and the others are gone already, what good will the cure be for them now?

Sure if giving her life for that hope is something she wants then you won’t fight her, it’s her choice and her choice alone. But if she wants to fight then you’ll fight with her.

“I want to see her,” you blurt and take another step towards Marlene as you can scan the room for your weapons and backpack. “Let me talk to her.”

Marlene’s hopeful look fades away, and annoyance replaces it. “I’m sorry,” she counters. “But I can’t let you do that. It’s going to happen. You can either be a part of it or keep risking your life in this broken world.”

You scoff and take one step towards her. “I just need to give her a choice, humanity has lived through an outbreak for 20 years. I'm sure they can live through a few more minutes, months, years. I don’t care,” you scoff with a scowl on your face and a fury filled glare that makes Marlene uncomfortable. “All I care about right now is her. My dad can take care of himself, you know that.” You smirk. “You know how he is. I know him, he won’t let Ellie die, he’ll fight everyone in this hospital before that happens, but if being the sacrifice is what Ellie wants then I’m the only one who can talk him through it and make him leave without shedding blood. Give me that.”

Marlene holds your gaze and stands in silence as she thinks of what you have to offer.

Yet she doesn’t linger too long and breaks from her stupor to respond back with disappointment in her eyes. “No. And if you’re willing to gamble humanity’s fate then you’re a danger now.” Marlene walks back, and the man walks in with a rifle clung around him and a cuffs in one hand.

You try to swerve past him, but he swings his rifle and smacks your side hard, causing you to stumble and groan, and then letting him grab your wrists to try and cuff your hands together. However, you fight through your sudden pain, and just as he’s about to throw the cuff around one wrist you hastily bite down on his hand hard, causing him to yelp and then let your arm go to slap you across the face with his other hand.

“Y/N! Stop it!” You hear Marlene intervene from the door, but you ignore her and roll your head up to shoot the man a wide grin whilst blood trickles down the cut he made on the corner of your lip, and the blood that trickles out of your nose because of that slap. His face contorts to bewilderment as he holds his hand, so you then slap your hands on his rifle and throw it up to hit him again and again on the face.

Quick footsteps approach thereafter, but you don’t pay attention and instead pull the pistol out of the man’s holster to smack him hard on the head and knock him out. You then spin around on your feet and point your gun at Marlene.

“Had you asked me to give up Ellie a year ago, I would have let you kill her,” you admit. “I was…in a dark place, but I found the one thing that the fireflies are so fond of. I found my own hope; in someone who taught me to love me again,” you smile softly. “Who taught me that it’s okay to love in this cruel world. It’s because of him that my answer changes now. It’s because of him that I let myself love her. I’m sorry you can’t find that.”

The door pushes open and two more armored goons walk in pointing their rifles at you. You try to look for a way through—maybe you can trick them and then slide past them at the last minute to quickly close the door and lock them in—Shooting them won’t work, you shoot one and the other shoots you. You can grab her! That’s right, and threaten her life.

“I'll ask you once more,” you add and fix your stance to get ready. “Let me talk to her. She decides that she wants to do this, then I’ll leave with my dad and never look back. If she says no then well…” you trail off and sigh.

Marlene shakes her head and just as she’s going to say something you kick her knee, making her lose her aim and stumble. You proceed to snatch her gun away from her hand before you kick her down to the ground and point both guns at her.

“Let me pass,” you spat at them and reach down to grab Marlene’s arm and yank her up. “She’s gonna take me to Ellie, I just want to talk.” You press one gun on her back to push her forward as you take one step ahead. “Move or I'll shoot her.”

Both men lift their arms and step aside, letting you keep pushing Marlene forward as you carefully keep walking out of the room. However, just before you can make it out, you manage to hear feet shuffle behind you so you quickly look back, and just as you do, you barely miss one of the man’s knife.

He tries to stab the back of your throat, but you quickly manage to swerve to avoid getting impaled. Albeit the knife still cuts the side of your neck, making you gasp from shock and let go of the guns to grab at your wound that was spilling out blood. You then stumble back and look around in desperation, without knowing what to do.

At the sound of the commotion and lack of gun to her back, Marlene turns around and immediately reacts in shock and anger. “Oh my god,” she gasps, and quickly squeezes her hands on your wound. “Get the fucking first aid! Do you have any idea what you just did?!” She yells at the man who had sliced the side of your neck while she walks you back to the couch. “It’s okay,” she assures you. “Well stitch you up, you’ll be fine.”

“But,” one of the men stammers.

Marlene snaps her head back and spats back. “Do you have any idea what her father is capable of? You’re lucky you didn’t kill her. God only knows what he’d do if you did.” She looks back at you as you’re sitting in shock and shoots you a pointed glare. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re still dangerous, and the only reason I’m not killing you is because of Tommy.”

You try to scoff to counter her, but you’re too scared that any ragged breath or any big breath will make more blood spill out, so you just sit still and catch the man coming in hesitantly with first aid supplies.

However, instead of having Marlene help stitch up your gash, she makes the man do it since she gets up and instead hooks the cuffs around your wrists before you could put up a fight again.

“I’m sorry,” she takes advantage of your silence. “I really wish we could’ve seen eye to eye on this.” She turns to to leave, but you stop her with your interjection.

“My dad,” you whisper to not add too much strain on your neck while the man stops the bleeding. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Marlene sighs. “Let’s just say I don't have the same mercy for him that I have for you.”

——

*NOT MUCH LATER*

Clinking metal echoes out, again and again. Clink.

Clink.

Clink. And clink.

Due to the fact that you’re restrained, weaponless, and have a gash on the side of your neck, making your next move has been slow. You’ve been trying to have hope that Marlene will come to her senses and let Ellie have her choice, because after all it’s her life they’re trying to sacrifice without consent. But in all your waiting there’s been nothing.

You can’t even count on your dad to come through that door in peace, he cares too much about Ellie without a fight, and unless it’s all been some act then you know he won’t agree to Marlene’s choice either. Not unless you talk to him, but that’s impossible now that Marlene thinks of you as dangerous. So what to do?

What to do?

Beg?

Won’t work.

Yell?

No.

You can’t just sit here either and wait it out, your dads life is at risk considering Marlene hinted that she wouldn't hesitate killing him, Ellie’s life is also at risk with only so little time left to get to her and let her decide what she wants before they murder her. So what is there left to do?

You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought of letting the doctors just make the cure without asking Ellie what she wants, because it has. Mainly because of Sam’s fate, but what sister would you be if you didn’t try to at least fight for her?

What the fireflies want is understandable, a future, a cure! But the way they want it isn’t right, it’s murder! Ellie deserves a choice. No matter how much love you harbor for her, no matter how selfish you want to be, you want it to be her choice; If she wants to live her life she can, if she wants to be salvation…she can. So how can you give that to her before they murder her?

You look at the door and keep banging your cuffs against the cabinets harder in hopes they’d get annoyed and come in so you can talk to them, but they don’t react, leaving you with the one option you didn’t want to commit. Violence.

With what?

You look down at your hands—-choking them won’t be enough, so you keep looking until you see one small object, a pen left on the desk.

Press hard enough and a pen can be stabbed in a person's eye, or a throat deep enough to end their life. It can work.

Then again you have no other choice but to use it…

You exhale and push yourself off the couch to snatch the pen off the desk and tuck it in your sleeve before you walk to the door and begin pounding it. “Hey!” You call for their attention as loud as you can without using too much muscle on your neck. “Hey! Please! I need help! Please, it's my stitches!” You stop and wait.

But nothing.

“Hey,” you keep begging as you keep hitting the door. “Come on, it’s my stitches, my neck is bleeding! Ima bleed to death!” You slam your forehead against the door and listen.

This time you hear feet shift before keys jingle and the door knob begins to turn, causing you to step back behind the door. The guard then opens the door slowly and steps in.

“Hey,” she immediately notices that you’re nowhere to be seen, so before she can make more commotion you push the door closed. The guard gets startled and immediately spins around to face you, but she only catches your threatening scowl before you lunge towards her and swing your cuffed fists up her jaw, and then slam down on her nose before you kick her down, and lastly slam your foot on her face again.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” you share ironically. “Take me to Ellie with no bloodshed, or…” you trail off and let her guess what comes after that threat.

The guard narrows her gaze and lets go of her gun to slowly lift her arms to show her willingness.

However, that’s what she wants you to believe because just as you’re about to move your foot, she suddenly swings her boot up and kicks you in the back, just on the end of your tailbone. You proceed to quickly stumble back in silence in order not to alert whoever is out in the hall. The guard then counters her own move by swinging her leg under your feet and tripping you.

You fall on your back, and the pen you hid in your sleeve slides back out of reach. The guard then gets off the ground, so you don't linger in your pain and flip around just as she reaches for her gun.

The pen manages to slide back down to your hand, luckily, so since the guard has orders not to shoot you, you let her approach you, you let her grab your arm to try and yank you up. But just as she gets you on your feet, you draw in a deep breath as you clench your jaw, and then swiftly twist your upper body around and use as much force as you can muster to stab the pen on the side of her neck.

The guard immediately lets go of her weapons and begins to choke on her own blood. Luckily since the pen goes in deep enough she can’t scream so she doesn’t alert anyone, she just gurgles as she falls on her knees. All while you exhale and step back from her to just watch her fall as she chokes on her own blood.

“I just need to give her a choice,” you mutter to the dying guard as if trying to reason her death. “You had yours.” You swallow thickly and reach down for the keys to quickly get out of the cuffs, you then grab her body and flip her around to lay her on her back.

“For whatever it is worth I am sorry,” you murmur as you watch her take her last breath.

She made her choice. She chose to fight, so you fought back….

So before anyone else can come you take her coat off her body. It has fresh blood on the front, but it’s not too much, plus you just need it to get out of here without gaining unwanted attention—

“Shots fired!” You get startled by the sound of a static voice coming from a walkie clung on her belt loop. “Shots fired on level 4! All able bodied personal come to level 4!”

Shit. Shit.

It has to be, there’s no one else who has the balls to shoot up the fucking hospital.

Your dad took action already. Fuck! Fuck.

Quickly you zip up the coat and throw on the hood to cover as much of your face as you can. You then reach down for the guards gun and realize it’s your fucking rifle!

Do people think it’s something that can just be passed around?! Fuck her.

Regardless, you step over her body and stop just in front of the door to listen as footsteps run past the room to reach level 4.

However, all except one stops. “Miranda!” They knock on the door. “Marlene says to keep the girl there!”

The person goes quiet, and your heart begins to pound in your ears as the terror that hits you paralyzes you.

You look at the end of the doorway to watch their shadow, and hold your breath as they wait.

“Did you get that Miranda?!” They question.

You slowly begin to raise the gun and point it at the door as you keep your gaze on the end of the door.

There should be no one else out there, the gunshot will mix with the ones you now hear in the distance, so no one will come running. No one will find her until you’re gone.

Therefore, you reach one hand for the knob to open the door and just shoot. But luckily the person runs off, letting you sigh with relief and hang the gun around your shoulder to instead wait until you can’t hear her footsteps anymore to then open the door.

And just in case anyone is out in the hall you make a sharp turn out of the room and head to the elevators for faster transportation so your dad doesn’t do any further harm, before he steals that choice from Ellie.

Moreover, when you do walk outside you spot your backpack on the desk, so you quickly side step towards it to keep your back turned against the hall behind you, and quickly snatch it from the counter.

There’s no questions as to your actions, no other noises, so it must be clear. You don’t want to check either, so you take advantage of the silence in this hall and stride directly towards the elevator. You then wait for a second and when there continues to be nothing you quickly press on the up button, hear the ding from the sign above and wait with your hand around your gun strap.

When the elevator gets to your floor you draw in a nervous breath, and reach for your necklace, but find your neck bare since your dad still has them. Or at least you hope. You haven’t really paid much attention to his neck. There’s been too much on your mind since leaving the resort.

Regardless, as the elevator slowly begins to open you leave your gaze on the ground until there’s enough room for you to walk in.

Albeit, when you look up to walk in the elevator, you don’t end up moving since you catch Marlene inside. Fuck! Fuck!

You rapidly raise your gun to point it at Marlene, but she’s fast too and raises her pistol to point at you too.

“Put the gun down y/n,” Marlene orders with her gun pointed at your chest. “Now.”

You raise your chin, and ignore her threat and her gun to hold her gaze.

“Put the fucking gun down, or I will shoot you.”

You narrow your gaze on her and hold your ground without saying a word.

“This attitude is why you made a perfect firefly,” she mutters and takes a careful step towards you. “That's why I know you won’t be stupid right now.”

You quirk up a brow and shoot her a smirk so she can try you.

And Marlene does, she reaches for your gun, but you don’t hesitate to hit the trigger either.

However, she’s quick, she’s smart. She catches your action and slaps her hand around your wrist to quickly twist it up so the bullet instead makes a dent on the ceiling.

You yelp as she keeps your shooting arm twisted, and Marlene proceeds to disarm you and then shove you back to the wall behind you to point the gun on your head.

“I also know your dad,” she interjects through gritted teeth, and yanks you off the wall to push you ahead of her so you’ll be facing the elevator doors that close now as the sign above glows. “He won’t leave without you. So why not wait for him here?”

She presses her gun at the back of your head and keeps your hand twisted, bringing a writhing pain that makes your eyes water and doesn’t let you fight back. She forces you to wait there outside of the elevator doors because just like she expected the elevator comes to a stop on the floor you’re on.

Part of you hoped that it wasn’t actually him, that he didn’t actually kill Ellie’s choice. The people well, their deaths are tragic but they’re not that significant, it’s her that you care about the most—So that part of you, the part that cares, also wants it to be him too because it also meant that he saved Ellie from being killed. But you mostly hope it’s not him.

You lower your gaze to avoid seeing the person behind the doors out of that same anxiety. When you watch the doors open all you can see is boots, boots you’ve seen on one person for months. It’s him. Yet you still don’t face him, besides now that deep rooted feeling of shame begins to seep back due to the situation you’re stuck in.

“I’ll give you a choice, Joel,” Marlene doesn’t hesitate to output and twists your arm more, causing you to cry out softly, and making your dad step out of the elevator at the sound of you in pain.

“Leave with Ellie and watch your daughter die,” Marlene continues to say her bargain. “Or save your daughter, leave with her, and leave Ellie behind.” She presses the gun harder against your head, and you now slowly lift your eyes, noticing Ellie unconscious in his arms, confirming what you were afraid he’d do, what you couldn’t stop. You then lift your gaze to his face and notice his hardened glare focused on Marlene.

He then feels your stare and shifts his gaze to meet yours, making you, at that moment feel that same shame heighten in you to the point you break. “I’m sorry,” you mutter through thick tears. “I’m sorry, dad.” You shake your head, and notice his eyes soften as hears your unneeded apology. “It was my fault, I’m sorry.”

Your dad shakes his head to assure you of the opposite, he’s going to speak, but then Marlene interjects. “She’s your only daughter Joel. Real daughter. Your little girl. Ellie is nothing to you but cargo, take y/n. I’ll give you a car and weapons,” she offers in exchange even after you assume he killed the other fireflies; considering that none of them have joined you on this floor—“Give me Ellie, wait for the cure to be distributed and live a happy life. Watch y/n have the life she wants, watch her have an actual career, watch her get married, have kids. She will no longer have to suffer, isn’t that what you want? What every parent wants?” She asks. “Doesn’t she deserve that?”

Not if it means murdering Ellie, that’s clear to you even if your own life is on the line. You would never live in peace knowing that you let them kill her without her choosing her own fate, or without saying goodbye.

“And doesn’t Ellie deserve a choice?” You retort in annoyance. “You think of yourself as so high and mighty, but you can’t fathom the thought of letting Ellie choose for herself.”

“To do what?” Marlene redirects and sways to the side. “You can’t keep her safe forever. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she’s gonna grow up. And then you’ll die. She’ll leave. Then what? How long till she’s torn apart by infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that the two of you could have saved.”

You drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes and try to move your hand, but she squeezes her grip tighter, causing you to groan and drop your head. Albeit, that’s when you notice a chance to get out of this position and bring an end to this choice your dad shouldn’t have to make.

You can’t give it away right away though. You wait for the right moment, and instead listen to your dads response. “Maybe. But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you,” Marlene counters. “So what would she decide, huh? ‘Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right. And you know it.”

Yeah, because she was so for giving Ellie a choice. Bullshit.

It’s why you choose to go on with your plan now. She’s distracted currently so you lift your gaze and tilt your head to the side, catching your dads attention right away. So as soon as he meets your gaze you point your eyes to your side.

Luckily your dad is smart and doesn’t miss your speechless hint, he actually looks down, letting you point out the chance you have, the one you caught; Marlene's exposed side after she swayed to the side.

As to not give anything away though, your dad returns his gaze back to Marlene, and you stay where you are and wait.

“It’s not too late,” Marlene adds and now loosens her grip around you. “Even now…even after what you’ve done. We can still find a way.”

Your dad killed all the others by the sound of all those gunshots that rang, and the lack of guards that didn't come down. He probably killed the surgeon, so as much as you want—wanted Ellie to have her own choice, it seems that now….well that is probably unlikely. So why make your dad make this choice between her and you?

There’s no other choice now but to get out of here, the three of you.

Hence why you gave him the hint, it’s why you shift slightly as Marlene lets go of your wrist as she thinks your dad has made up his mind, and watch him lift his pistol he holds under Ellie’s legs to hit the trigger without hesitation.

The feeling of the bullet passing right by you makes you tense, and the sound makes you lift your hands to try and cover your ears, but luckily it doesn’t hit you. The bullet hits Marlene directly, causing her to drop her gun off your head as she falls to the ground.

You want to look back at the outcome, you also want to see if anyone would come, but your dad grabs your hand and pulls you in the elevator right away. You only catch a glimpse of Marlene on the ground with blood beginning to spill on the white hospital floor before the elevator doors close to begin moving down.

“Are you okay?” Your dad finally has the chance to ask.

You glance at Ellie still unconscious and make sure she’s breathing whilst you want to counter with questions. But there’s no time now and well, it’s not hard to guess what he did, so instead you just assure his worry. “Yeah, some fucker sliced my neck, but it wasn’t deep enough. I got off lucky. And my hand,” you say and look down at your throbbing wrist. “It’ll heal. She didn’t break it.” You then look over at him and look at him up and down to take in his dirty appearance, his worried look decorating his features, and want to question him, but the doors then open to the garage.

And right away you both walk out and search for a car to use. Thankfully, it’s not hard to find a usable car across the lot that’s getting its battery charged.

“There,” your dad points to the black car you had also spotted. “Help me get her inside,” he adds and walks off quickly, while you blink to look at the elevator doors closing past your shoulder to think about what you couldn’t prevent. What you couldn't give Ellie. And if there’s still a possibility to give her that.

After all, she went through so much to get to this hospital, and all for what? For a short trip she won’t remember because they drugged her, because he took her away?

“Y/N, come on, open the door for me.” Your dad breaks you from your train of thought.

“Yeah,” you say, and then look away from the elevator doors to jog over to where he's waiting to open the door for him.

With no other choice left now, you watch him lay Ellie down in the back. When he steps back you take off the stranger's coat you had as a disguise and put it over her legs.

At least she’s alive; you think to yourself as you step back and grab the door. Pushing everything else aside, at least she’s still here with you.

You sigh softly and begin to push the door close, but that’s when you hear a loud thump on the ground. And you know it’s not your dad because he’s by the hood of the car trying to get it ready, so you proceed to close the car door and look over at him.

Your dad meets your gaze with his usual furrowed brows and points to the car hood that’s still open. “Come get the car goin’.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, but you begin walking over to where he is as he turns and walks away from the car. Once you reach the front of the car you see that Marlene had somehow dragged herself down even as she bled out.

Albeit, she’s not in a good shape, getting down here took all her energy, she’s now coughing out and gasping on the ground. However, you do have to give it to her for trying. She’s a true firefly through and through.

“No,” she groans out as your dad reaches her. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.”

You close the hood of the car, and since you might need to make a hasty escape you walk to the drivers side.

“Please,” you hear Marlene whisper between pants. “Let me go.”

You open the car door and get in without trying to fight for her. Why would you? There’s nothing left, he made sure of that. And you love your dad too much to be against him, no matter what wrongs he’s done—what wrongs he will do.

“You’d just come after her,” he mutters to Marlene, and you watch him lift his gun as you close the door.

And once again without a sliver of hesitation he shoots her, this time he makes sure to kill her right away. Now there’s truly nothing left. Now…home.

Thankfully now the way home won’t take months. Of course you didn’t make it back home before your birthday like you promised your uncle Tommy; your birthday actually passed while you were on the road, but Maria should still be pregnant in two days.

However, it’s the silence, the awkward silence that fills the car that will make this car ride eternal, especially since you’re not driving anymore. There’s so many questions you need to ask, complaints you want to throw at him over what he did, but you can’t do that with Ellie passed out in the back, she can wake up at anytime, so you let the silence build and just watch the city pass and smile at the sight of the lush green forest.

You hoped that the silence would stay to avoid spilling everything, but your dad breaks it. “You know, back there…” he pauses, letting you push your head off the window you’re leaning against to look at him—“…I wouldn’t have let you die,” he shares with a brief glance at you.

You can’t help your smile and nod softly. “I know,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He questions with a slightly concerned look. “I just didn’t want to let you think that I would—”

“Daddy, I know,” you cut him off quietly.

Your dad holds your gaze for a brief second with this soft look, and lets out a relieved sigh before he focuses back on the road and you focus back on the passing green trees.

“Can you promise me something?” Your dad breaks the silence once again.

You blink and slowly meet his gaze again, but don’t answer so he continues. “Don't tell Ellie what I did back there, she doesn’t need to know.”

What? That he didn’t give her a choice? That he snatched that from her after knowing how much it meant to her? Lie about that to her?

You blink rapidly in disbelief and avert your gaze.

“Just let her believe none of it worked and that they’re all gone. Can you do that for me?”

Siblings are meant to have secrets with each other that the parents aren’t aware of. Not a sibling and a parent, it never ends well.

“For how long?” You murmur.

Your dad sighs. “For however long it needs to be kept a secret. She doesn’t need to know. Ever.”

You let out a deep exhale and turn your head to face him and answer, but then Ellie begins to groan, giving away her slow rise back to consciousness.

“What?” She says as you hear her move back there. And as to not give anything away, to not let her see any emotions, you rest your head on the window and close your eyes to pretend to be asleep.

“It’s all right. You’re with me,” your dad assures her. “Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“Y/N?” She asks, causing you to swallow thickly out of guilt.

“She’s fine, she’s…sleepin’.” He says to her.

You hear Ellie move some more before continuing to speak. “I was with Fireflies and then—what drugs?”

“They were runnin’ some tests on you…” he lies to her. “And some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you…”

No. No.

“…people that are immune.”

Why does he have to say that?

“Dozens of ‘em,” he continues to add to the lies. “And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually—they’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.”

Let’s hope she believes him now.

“Where are my clothes?” She asks with no clue as to if she does believe him.

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there,” he responds. “We’ll find you some new ones on the way.”

“Were people hurt?” She asks.

There’s a moment of silence before he answers with an actual truth. “Yes.”

“Is Marlene okay?”

You clench your hands at the sound of her worry, at the sound of her soft tone. Yet you don’t feel regret for letting Marlene die, no, just that Ellie’s been lied to.

“I’m takin’ us home,” your dad avoids answering her question, but that gives her insight as to what she wanted to know. No.

It’s because of his non answer that you hear her turn around, letting him add one more genuine thing. “I’m sorry.”

Let’s hope she does believe him.

——

*LATER. WYOMING*

The air smelled like home, it made you eager to actually be home; to see your uncle Tommy, Maria, your friends, to just be home. But you’re still a few hours away from actually getting home thanks to the fucking car that broke down!

Albeit at least it didn’t break down earlier and made this trip any longer.

“Well,” your dad breaks the news. “She got us close enough.” He closes the hood of the car, and you turn around to kick a rock and groan in annoyance.

“We gotta walk the rest of the way,” he adds as you hear his footsteps recede from the hood of the car. “Probably about a five-hour hike…but we can manage that. Remember?”

You peer back to see Ellie’s reaction, but the sun hitting the windshield blocks the view, only letting you hear what you assume is slight joy. “Yeah.”

“You ready over there?” Your dad directs his question to you as he steps away from the car to begin walking towards you at the front of the car.

You groan and look at the path ahead. “I’m so ready,” you feign a smile. “I’m eager.”

Your dad falls by you and scoffs. “It’s not long now. We’ll make it there by lunch time.” He shields his eyes and sighs. “I think Maria might kill me this time. With her look alone.”

You laugh. “Nah. I'm comin’ back home in one piece….but maybe once she’s had her baby she will.”

Additional footsteps approach you, so you break away from the spot you had stood at and begin treading that five hour hike.

“All for what?” Your dad quips in a lighthearted tone. “That little cut? Please.”

You shrug. “She’s protective of me, but regardless, rest assured I brought her a bribing present and a heartwarming apology.” You look over your shoulder and smile widely. “I’m still very good at cryin’ on cue, that wins her over.”

Your dad flashes you a smile before looking back at Ellie as she’s lingering behind the two of you. “You shoulda seen her when she was a little girl, she was so dramatic that she learned how to shed the best crocodile tears. Always knew how to get me to do what she wanted.”

“Still can,” you look back at her and wink. “It’s all in the eyes.”

Ellie lets out a soft scoff and nods without saying anything, she stays quiet like she has been for the best couple months, since she’s woken up. But you can say you understand why she’s behaving as such, you’d be quiet too if suddenly that hope to be humanity’s savior was snateched from you without knowing what really happened, and only being able to hear the events from someone else.

She doesn’t deserve to feel such a heavy sorrow, she deserves to be happy, to feel all the lows and highs of being a teenager without such a heavy burden or such a broken heart. So that’s probably the only good reason why….you haven’t told the truth, why it doesn’t bother you that your dad killed everyone in the hospital and stole away her choice out of a selfish act of love. Because if she knew, she’d only know betrayal and even deeper agony that would break her. You want to protect her from feeling that because you know what those feelings bring, darkness.

It’s too bad you couldn’t actually prevent the risk of having her feel it….

Nevertheless, the walk is long, but not hard since it isn’t too hot and the wind is graceful. There is conversation so it isn’t always quiet, but it’s always mostly between your dad and you, Ellie just remains quiet most of the time. The hike isn’t filled with obstacles either, nor with danger, so it’s easy. The only thing that was pesky was your eagerness to get home that’s heightened the closer you get.

“You know, Sarah, y/n, and I used to hike like this all the time,” your dad breaks the silence that had filled your small group, making you smile softly and peer back at him.

“I wouldn't say it was her favorite thing,” he continues. “She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber…or scampering. That’s probably the right word. That girl…she’d see a big rock, and just…pew.”

You grin and try to recall memories, but nothing comes to mind.

“What about y/n?” Ellie probes, causing you to turn around to face your dad as if that will make a difference.

“She was a little girl so when she wasn’t clung on my back she was on a little red wagon. Besides, y/n she liked more of the water activities, swimmin’, she liked to help me and Tommy fish.” He shoots you a small smile. “Actually one time she helped me unhook a fish and…”

Oh this story, yes, you remember it clearly. How funny…

“She actually,” he says between laughs. “Got smacked by the tail. Right on the face,” he points to his own face. “It left a mark for days, I could not get her to stop cryin’.”

“Nor could uncle Tommy stop laughin’,” you grumble and turn back around. “He still does by the way. Never lets me live it down. Especially when he’s drunk, “oh do you remember when you got slapped by a fish, Sunny,” you mock his voice. ““So there was this one time….” Pft,” you blow out air.

“It’s too funny to let you live it down,” your dad teases.

You shoot him back a pointed glare and feign a dry laugh.

“No, but,” your dad continues. “Sarah woulda liked you, Ellie.”

You sigh and lose your annoyance to smile softly again.

“Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different.”

“How so?” Ellie chooses to investigate that comment.

“Well, she was a lot more…I wanna say girly. And I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly,” he tries to assure Ellie.

“I’m not,” she quickly rebuttals.

“Yeah, you’re not,” your dad agrees. “So that,” he chuckles. “She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not sayin’ that you don’t,” he assures her. “But you know why I think she’d like you?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh.”

You look back and nod in agreement.

“Anyway,” your dad continues after Ellie’s silence. “I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

You look back ahead and hear Ellie agree. “Yeah, bet I would've.”

You smile softly at her response and can’t help but imagine having Sarah here. It’s hard to say how she would’ve been like considering she would’ve been, what? In her thirties, but you know she’d be happy to have Ellie, to have a different dynamic in your little family considering Ellie is different from you too. Plus, she would’ve liked that Ellie could make your dad smile, you know you do.

Regardless, as you continue leading the way, your smile quickly breaks into an excited grin as you spot a clearing just past the end of the tree line, finally. So without hesitation you break into a sprint to the end, knowing what lies just beyond the end woods and at the top of the green hill.

“Y/N!” Your dad calls out. “Careful!”

Disregarding his warning you maneuver through the tree branches in the way, you duck under a fallen tree stuck on another, and only feel your enthusiasm make your heart pound faster. You don’t stop running until finally you see it in the clear and green horizon, home. Finally, after what’s been a difficult couple months, complete and utter happiness fills your heart.

“There it is,” you point out with a happy grin as Ellie and your dad catch up. “Home,” you let out with a relieved sigh.

From on top of this spring hill, Jackson is a lot larger than you thought of it being. It’s big, but it only means it’s full of people, it’s a small reminder of humanity without the monsters.

“Yeah,” your dad agrees. “Not much further now.”

You try to squeal out of joy, but that hurts to do because of your wound, so you just keep grinning as you continue walking ahead beside your dad now.

“Hey, wait,” Ellie calls out, making your dad stop right away, and making you slow down before stopping a few paces ahead of him.

“Fuck,” you catch Ellie whisper, causing you to shift around and catch her fall in front of your dad to continue. “Back in Kansas City you asked me about the first time I killed someone.”

Your smile falls, and a pit in your heart begins to grow as you feel nothing good coming from what she’s saying.

“When I got bit in the mall, I-I wasn’t on my own. My best friend was there,” she sniffles. “And she got bit, too. We didn't know what to do, and she says, “we can just wait it out…”

Oh god…no. You knew it, nothing good.

“….be all poetic and just lose our minds together.” And then she did. And I had to—“ she pauses, but it’s not hard to decipher what she meant, what she had to do—she had to kill her friend. “Her name was Riley…and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess….”

Wait. What? Yes you knew something might’ve happened to not see her with your dad, but you never…you never came to the conclusion that she was dead. You never asked either, but you never—that never came to mind.

Fuck.

You never got to know her well, but from what your uncle Tommy said about your dads life from the messages they’d send through radio before, Tess was in his life for a long time. Damn….

It’s not sad news for you, but it’s surprising that’s all.

“…and then Sam,” Ellie adds, making you now drop your gaze to the wild flowers around your feet.

“That's not on you,” your dad interjects.

“I know, but—”

“Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope,” your dad cuts Ellie off. “You can feel…like you’ve come to an end….and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’…you find something new to fight for.” He glances at you, and you offer him a very faint smile.

“And maybe that’s not what—”

“Swear to me,” Ellie cuts him off abruptly. “Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.”

You swallow thickly out of guilt, but hide your emotions well in the flowers around you just in case Ellie is trying to read you too.

“I swear,” you hear your dad lie with no remorse.

A moment of silence passes, a heavy silence you feel immediately, so you look up and catch Ellie’s furrowed brows, pointed gaze, and unrelieved look before she nods and mutters softly. “Okay.”

It doesn’t sound convinced though, you can tell that, you can see her glistening eyes. You can see a shift in her look. What should be a relieving moment seems to be filled with tension. Yet you don’t know how much she believes, or if she’s just disappointed by the answer, but you can tell that there’s a rift between her and your dad now. Her look alone gives that way. After all, you've once looked at him like that too; same narrowed glare, same long frown, and disappointed look.

What would Sarah do? You can’t help but think now, at this very moment as you remember her by looking at the pretty flowers that decorate the green hill. Would she go against your dad and tell her the truth, or hide it like you are now and carry the burden of the truth for her sake, for the purpose of not seeing her heartbreak. Would she risk her relationship with Ellie, the trust, for her own sake?

You look at Ellie and watch her turn away from your dad to finally continue walking home. You then look at home, and then at your dad as he stops by you without saying anything.

After all she’s been through…

You watch her again and sigh with tears beginning to sting your eyes.

….you can’t break her heart. You can’t do that to her. You’ll carry the burden for her sake, for his sake as well.

Yet it doesn’t mean he won’t hear what you have to say, the disappointment you feel for his choices, he’ll hear it, just not now. So you shove away your need to cry and bring back the happiness you felt for returning home. You break away from your dads side without a word, only a guilty look, and trot down to join her side.

You hoped it’d be a quiet walk, but she surprisingly breaks it.

“So what? Are you happy to see your lover boy?”

You blink rapidly in disbelief and scoff softly before you retort. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Ellie shoots you a faint smirk. “That guy you were batting your eyelashes at when we first got to Jackson.”

You scoff and roll your eyes in annoyance, but you’re actually left speechless.

“What?” She quips. “Just ‘cause you lost one boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t get another. I mean isn’t that how life works?”

You squint your gaze on her in slight disbelief to what she’s saying and actually interject now. “Where is this comin’ from? Huh?” You tease her. “Is this, like, dating advice?” You quirk a brow and smirk.

Ellie’s lips begin to pull to a smile and she shrugs. “I’m just saying I mean it’s not like your dad is going to give you this kind of advice.”

“Oh, and you will, a 14 year old?”

“15 now,” she corrects you.

“Whatever,” you quip. “Same thing.”

“Well,” Ellie sighs. “I'm just saying. Are you happy or not?”

You avert your eyes and shrug. “I guess it depends, doesn't it?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “But if it doesn’t work out then you can always date Henry’s ghost for the rest of your life.”

You giggle and shake your head.

“Or we can do shit like—”

“Become astronauts and fly to the moon?” You cut her off with a smile.

Ellie meets your gaze and nods. “Yeah. We can do that.”

You nod softly. “We'll see then. Who knows you might beat me and meet someone first. There’s boys and girls your age there.”

Ellie shrugs and huffs out. “We’ll see. I like the moon idea. We could…live in a space station over earth, go to the moon whenever we want and not have to worry about anything down here.”

You look at the green path ahead and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I like the sound of that. It’d be a killer view too.”

“Just you and me,” she whispers.

——

“It’s just you and me now, Sunny,” he mutters over the sound of the pattering rain.

You sigh deeply, and watch the rain fall over the patch of green forest below the hill with a sad frown, with an ache in your heart that was left when your dad left you.

“Yeah,” you whisper and glance up at your uncle Tommy with a small smile.

He meets your gaze and offers you a wider smile that he tries to use to assure you. You hold his gaze for a second before you drop your head and look at the wet grass beneath your feet with deep sorrow in your heart.

It’s not so weird that you came back to this moment in your mind, Ellie’s words triggered them to reappear. Nor is it weird that you couldn’t stop thinking of it until now, until you saw your uncle Tommy. Your home.

“Uncle Tommy!” You exclaim before you throw your arms around his neck with a happy grin on your lips.

“Sunny,” he whispers softly by your ear as he hugs you back with more force.

Being apart this time wasn’t as long as before, but months still feel eternal, and well no one knows what can happen to anyone so seeing him even after a few days is a delight.

“You said a month,” he remarks. “You missed your party.”

You sigh and pull back to face him and talk back, but he catches the bandage over your wound on the side of your neck, and his face expression contorts with concern.

“I’m okay,” you quickly assure him as he turns your head so he can take a better look. “I’ll be okay. It’s not deep. You.” You pull back and grab a hold of his hands with a tight squeeze as you grow worried. “The baby?”

A smile once again breaks on his features and he shakes his head. “Not born yet.”

You clasps your hands together and squeal with happiness. At least you didn’t miss that.

“Good, I’m glad,” you retort and step back to let your dad greet his brother.

“You’re still alive,” your uncle teases your dad whilst you twist around and search the patrol group that had come out to greet you before you could reach the gate.

This time around since Maria is heavily pregnant she isn’t one amongst them, neither is Apollo or his dog Achilles….hm. Hopefully, they’re okay.

Something else that changed this time around was the confrontation, it wasn’t hostile or full of terror since now you know the dog won’t detect the cordyceps on Ellie. And since your uncle was out here, your dad nor Ellie’s intentions were questioned, leading you to actually get home quicker this time.

And just like before, when you walk past the gates you’re taken aback by the liveliness of it all. Snow didn’t cover the ground, and the holiday decorations didn’t decorate the town, but the sky was clear, the sun was softly shining from above, and the town was full of color due to the colorful flowers that now replaced the holiday decorations.

“Okay, but don’t think you guys are off the hook,” you interject as you let your shoulders fall, and rest your head on the horse your uncle let you ride home so you wouldn't be on your feet any longer. “I still want my birthday party. Birthday week!” You exclaim. “I have it all planned.” You say and throw your hands out dramatically.

Your uncle grins softly. “Do ya know?” He retorts.

You hum in agreement and nod as you meet your dads gaze now too. “First day, bam, breakfast outside, fancy dress code, pancakes, coffee, fruit, chocolate chip cookies, eggs. Second day…” you trail off and gasp softly as the sight of Apollo walking out of the school his father taught at, catches your eye.

For a moment it’s only him you see amongst the crowd of people, time even seems to pass by in slow motion even if your heart begins to race as you watch him walk down the street. He doesn’t spot you since you’re sort of in the middle of the walking-in crowd, and his eyes are just focused on the ground.

“Apollo!” You yell out even if that hurts the muscles on your neck, and proceed to shoot up before you throw your leg over the horse to slide off sloppily since you’re hardly paying attention. “Apollo!” You yell out again and this time catch his attention and cause him to stop in his tracks.

You almost fall when your feet hit the ground, but you don’t pay any mind—Your dad does though. “Jesus Christ, y/n, careful.”

“There she goes,” Ellie comments as she watches you maneuver past the horses.

“Apollo!” You keep yelling out your friend's name with glee. “Apollo! Apollo!”

Said man's lips spread to a beaming grin and he doesn’t hesitate to also break into a sprint. “Y/N!” You hear him shout.

And before you know it, once all the barriers of space are broken you meet halfway and hop to throw your arms around him.

Apollo doesn’t falter and grabs onto you with all his might. You proceed to giggle and dig your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his fresh and clean scent, and feeling like yourself again; no guilt for what you had to hide, no fear, nothing bad, just ease and joy. The feelings make you linger in his arms for a moment longer until you have to pull away.

“Did you just back?” He asks with an awed smile.

You nod and keep holding onto his arms. “Yeah, I just got back. I missed you out on patrol.”

He scoffs. “Got today off. Damn shame now.” He catches your long bandage on your neck and his face falls. “Is this fresh?”

You sigh and shake your head. “I’ll be fine. Just a cut. You should see what I did,” you clear your throat and smirk smugly. “Pen move. Lodged on the throat.”

“Is that right? I would've liked to see it. Maybe you can show me later.”

Your smirk softens. “Oh yeah, I could.”

Apollo shoots you a grin and holds your gaze with a soft look that makes your breath hitch, and for you to begin to grow hot under his gaze. However, you don’t look away, your smile softens, and you keep holding his gaze even as your heart begins to race again.

You actually catch his gaze flicker down, so you mimic his actions and see his lips part slightly, making him lean in just a bit.

Yet before anything can happen suddenly the sound of your name being yelled out breaks the tension. When Apollo and you look over, he quickly groans in annoyance, but you smile as you see his brother and your friend Atlas, and their dog Achilles running at you.

The dog beats him to you, but when Atlas reaches you he makes you stumble as he throws his arms around you and his brother in front of you.

“You’re still alive you fucker,” Atlas says to you.

Your lips pulls to a grin and you nod. “Always. You need to stop doubting me.”

He chuckles and pulls back, ignoring his brothers annoyance and just focusing on you. “I have to, who would I be if I didn’t?” He retorts.

You roll your eyes.

“I’d be crushed if I kept up my expectations,” Atlas adds quieter. “I’m happy to see you home.” He smiles and pats your shoulder. “Someone missed you terribly.” His gaze bounces to his brother, but he snickers and plays it off by then petting Achilles. “This old fucker here.”

“Ah, well,” you play along with him and slide your arm off him to touch your chest. “I’m here to stay this time. For good.”

“Really?” Apollo challenges. “You being for real?”

You hum and nod as you step back from both boys. “Swear.”

Apollo can’t help but smile, and Atlas just counters you. “We’ll see won't we.”

You scoff, but don’t try to argue, instead you let out a deep breath and point back to the group most likely already at the dinning hall. “I’ll see you boys at home, y’all still live there right?”

Apollo smiles and nods. “Of course. Why would we leave…I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

You smile softly and don’t add on to his comment because of Atlas beside you, but you understand his reference and nod. “I’m going to grab lunch,” you tell them. “I’m starving. Get…the tequila ready, yeah? Birthday shots?”

Atlas quickly rebuttals as you walk back. “No, your birthday passed!”

You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Have it ready!” You shoot Apollo one last smile. “Let’s talk later, yes?”

“You know I always have time for you.” He shouts back with a smirk.

You grin at him before you turn around and catch up with your family waiting for you outside of the hall. And once you get close your dad and uncle head inside whilst you linger behind with Ellie, all because she wants to pass you a teasing look.

“What?” You retort and know exactly what that look is for. “I’m just happy to see him.” You open the door and let her walk in first.

“Sure.” She chuckles. “Sure it’s just that.”

“Whatever,” you scoff with a giddy smile.

——

*LATER*

Having babies during this never ending pandemic seemed like such a selfish act to you before, you thought of the people as selfish for wanting to have and raise their kids during this apocalypse. But after meeting Henry, after learning to love again because of him, that thought disappeared.

Now you couldn’t be happier for Maria and your uncle Tommy. Now as you feel their baby kick inside her you also kind of long for such a bliss.

“You pick a name yet?” You ask Maria as you have your ear pressed against her belly.

“No,” she says. “Not yet. We’re waiting until the baby’s born to give it a name.”

You hum and then beam at the open air ahead of you. “I’m so glad I made it back in time to feel this.”

“I almost thought you wouldn't,” Maria retorts with some sass behind her comment.

You scoff softly. “You know he’d bring me back home.”

Maria sighs, so you lift your head off her belly to sit up and face her with a more serious look on your features.

“Look, I know he’s not your favorite person, but he’s still my dad, he’s still my uncle Tommy’s brother, making him your brother-in-law, so you have to suck it up and start coming around. Besides, when it comes down to it you wouldn't want anyone else having your back but him, he’s good, and protective.”

Maria holds your gaze and swallows thickly out of hesitation. After all she’s heard you can’t really blame her, she’s being protective too over you and your uncle, but now your dad is here to stay. She can’t live on hating him in this small town.

“Do you trust him?” She asks with a narrowed gaze. “It doesn’t matter if he’s your dad, push that aside. Do you trust him?”

Without hesitation you nod. “I do,” you assure her because it’s not your trust that’s at play here, no, you’re just upset and disappointed. “He’s earned it,” you add and clasp your hands together whilst you watch the wind sweep over the spring flowers in your meadow.

“Okay,” Maria sighs, “then I’ll be less…hostile. I’ll try.”

You drift your eyes over to her and shoot her a smile. “Good. That’s all I ask, all uncle Tommy and I ask.”

A moment of silence passes where all you hear is the soft howl of the wind brush over your ear, where all you do is watch the pretty and delicate flowers dance gracefully in your meadow. But Maria then breaks that moment. “Are you going to talk about why you left the second time, and came back all beat up?”

Shit.

You blink and drop your gaze whilst it slowly begins to harden and lose all the softens it held over the meaning of her question, and what it asks from you—lies.

More lies. You can’t tell her about Ellie, about where you went and what happened on the trip. At least you can’t say all that involves the fireflies. She’d hate your dad more than she already does, she’d just stir trouble.

Albeit there's a knot in your throat that threatens to undo so you can just throw up everything in some kind of word vomit.

But you can’t, you have to avert your gaze to avoid breaking. And luckily the back door opens, and when you look back you’re thankful to see your dad here to save you from breaking.

“Daddy,” you greet and quickly push yourself to your feet to avoid what came up.

Said man forms his lips into a tight lipped smile when he notices Maria, and slowly begins to wander over to where you are. “Sorry,” he interjects and meets Maria’s gaze. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You shake your head and answer right away. “No, no it’s okay. Come over.” You see his gaze flicker to the flower meadow and linger there for a moment before his gaze falls on Maria and you—“Everything okay? Or did you just come to visit?” You ask.

He nods stiffly. “Yeah. I came to visit.”

The wood from the bench swing creaks, stealing your attention. And when you look back you see Maria getting up. “I’ll go then and leave the two of you alone.”

Your dad doesn’t put up a fight to try and be nice, he nods and mutters, “yeah, okay, thanks. Sorry again.”

Maria shakes her head to assure him that it’s fine before beginning to walk away. And just as she makes it on the patio she glances over her shoulder. “I’ll see the both of you at dinner.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod in agreement, she then finally leaves the area when she walks inside, leaving your dad and you alone in a silence that feels quite comfortable.

“Sit, please,” you point to the bench as you sit back down.

Your dad lets out a deep sigh before slowly making his way to sit beside you.

“I grew it in memory of Sarah,” you let him know right away. “The meadow. I mean,” you sigh and smile a wobbly smile. “I’d already see her in the gentle flowers when I had no picture of her, everytime we were out trying to survive. I’d see her in the delicate and beautiful butterflies that flutter on them, so…I grew this meadow when I got here to see her all the time.” You drop your head and sniffle.

“It’s,” your dad mutters in a shaky voice. “It’s sweet. I like it. I’m sure she’d love it too.”

You smile softly and nod, you look at the flowers again and now as you remember your sister you also can’t help but remember the new burden you carry, and you have yet to talk about with your dad.

“Where’s Ellie?” You ask with a fading smile.

“Home,” he says. “She wanted to stay home.”

She’s thinking about what she failed to do isn't she? You know she is. You saw her overthinking behind her solemn look she carried ever since she woke up. You saw her disappointment after she asked your father for reassurance over what he said happened. You could hear her heartbreak when she questioned your dads fake story in the car.

So if you saw and heard all that, you know he did too.

“Why?” You break the silence that had built. “Why did you do it?” You ask, but not with anger laced in your voice, not disappointment; your voice is soft and filled with genuine wonder.

“They were gonna kill her,” he mutters out with no remorse behind his voice. “They were gonna kill her for it without giving her a choice.”

You briefly shut your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Did you give her a choice?” You ask him and blink to look at him, to watch as he meets your own gaze. “Did you give her a choice before you took her, before you killed everyone in that hospital including that doctor?”

Your dad holds your gaze and now you see that once hardened look turn soft. “I couldn’t lose her,” he says quietly. “You have to understand that.”

More than anything. You love her too.

“I do,” you whisper, but begin to shake your head. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t wrong. It doesn’t mean you weren’t selfish.”

“I’d do the same thing with you,” he rebuttals. “In a heartbeat—”

“You were wrong!” You cut him off in an emotional outburst. “You were wrong!” You shout again and jump to your feet to continue facing him. “You were selfish for taking that chance from humanity, even after all we’ve seen, all those people I’ve lost, that we’ve lost in the way,” your voice quivers. “You disrespected her by taking that choice away from her. I…I grew to love her too, I did,” you nod and feel your eyes fill with tears. “She made me find myself after being lost for so long without Sarah. But,” you swallow back your tears. “I would have given her that choice, if she said she wanted to live then I would have helped you get her out by doing whatever I took, but you….didn’t give her a choice.”

Your dad drops his head and watches the flowers in the meadow. He stays silent, letting you let out a deep shaky breath to calm down that anger you had held in.

“If you’re asking me to regret what I did,” he breaks his silence with no anger, his voice remains soft. “I won’t.” He meets your gaze with exactly that, no regret. “I won’t regret what I did because I did it for her, so she can live. I did it for us, for our family. If it was you in her position I’d do it too in a heartbeat, damn the consequences. I wouldn’t even care if you spent all your life hatin’ me because at least you’re alive to do that. The same goes for Ellie.”

That doesn’t take away from your anger and disappointment, but it does help you better understand his reasonings behind his actions.

“And if she ever finds out,” he continues as you remain quiet, unable to find something to argue back with. “I’ll never let her blame you because it was all me. But I hope that she doesn’t find out, she doesn’t deserve to live with that heartbreak, she deserves a good life. She can have that here with us. So that’s all I ask from you, don’t tell her. Please.”

You hold his gaze for a brief second as you think about what he asks from you, as you debate whether to listen or not.

You then proceed to sit back beside him on the bench, you watch the flowers and think about your thought process before, when you stood on that hill that overlooked Jackson. You remember what you came up with then; you want to save Ellie from the darkness that his betrayal would bring, because you also want her to have a good life.

That’s the only reason why you’re agreeing to carrying that burden too.

“I won’t,” you assure your dad. “I won’t tell her. I swear.”

Your dad nods, but keeps holding your gaze with anguish. “Does this change anythin’ between us?” He asks, catching you by surprise. “Because I can’t…I can’t lose you babygirl. Not again.”

You quickly shake your head and speak your truth with a gentle smile. “No, of course not.”

Your dad nods softly as he lets out a deep relieved sigh.

“I was just angry,” you share. “I just needed you to hear what I had to say, that’s all, but no I don’t want that to change us.” You grab his hand and give it an assuring squeeze. “Because regardless of it all, omitting this truth from her is for her own sake now.”

“Yeah,” your dad agrees with a nod. “It is. It’s for her...”

“For Ellie,” you finish his sentence.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @dgraysonss @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @ririvilliams @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion

[whoops-im-obsessed]

(More) Things I Noticed in UKsies: Fansie Night Edition! (Act 1)

I was lucky enough to see newsies again at the fansie night last night and it was incredible!! Here are more little moments that I loved :) This is gonna be long.

The absolute roar from the audience as soon as the lights went down to start the show, fansies are something else, man, this audience was on fire

At the very beginning Race looks so happy reading the paper I can't his smile was so big - Josh Barnett has said that this is his favourite part of the show and it shows!!

Lady behind me tried to buy a paper from one of the newsies but he wouldn't give it to her because she didn't have cents

Matthew Duckett (Crutchie) can do the fingers-in-the-mouth loud whistle thing and uses it a lot during the show, first to call the newsies to work

Not me wondering the entire time how Race's cigar and Morris' cigarette work only to be reminded that e-cigarettes exist

My mum's face after Splasher did a backflip whilst skipping - Ross Dorrington, my God

'Hey! Hey! *spin* Get ya papes!'

The way the newsies just slide around the stage and careen off of it, its an accident waiting to happen but it looks so fun

Santa Fe Prologue, Jack yanks Crutchie away from that railing so fast poor guy he just wants to go down

Crutchie flinches away from Jack and laughs when he suddenly leaps towards him at 'close your eyes'

For like half of carrying the banner these boys are just half naked, you can see their mic packs running up their backs

Crutchie pickpockets Darcy

At some point Crutchie does something to offend Finch and gets whacked with his slingshot

Guy in front of woodside looks so sad the whole of the 'curdled coffee' bit and is contemplating life only to stand up and sing 'all I can catch is fleas'

He then proceeds to flick said fleas at another newsie who runs away and calls him disgusting

Wiesel descends from the ceiling

Alex James Hatton Davey!!

Alex's Davey is more mature than Ryan's, he seems more sure that he's here to do a job and isn't confused or intimidated by the newsies, he genuinely seems like an outsider who isn't in on the joke and is not impressed by their antics

'that's disgusting'

Henry gets on his knees and pretends to be a child in the line to get papes and keeps going 'I'm new too'

Right behind them a distraught Mike carries a limp Jojo who opens his eyes and says 'I'm dead' to Wiesel

Hannah and Bunsen squabble over a notebook in Bottom Line and Nunsio looks ready to commit

(Lindsay Atherton Hannah is amazing she is hilarious)

Alex Davey is very unsure selling papers to the audience he just kinda mumbles and seems a bit hopeless at it while Les just swindles everyone

The relationship between Alex!Davey and Les is very different to Ryan!Davey, Ryan is all over Les and is very affectionate whereas Alex seems to show the other half of large age gap sibling relationships, meaning he clearly cares about Les but also occasionally looks at him like he is the bane of his existence. Relatable.

Spot's actress is also a bowery beauty it's amazing, the bowery beauties also dance behind Medda during her performance and wink at the audience.

Newsie controlling the light for Medda's performance is concentrating Very Hard

Bobbie Chambers Katherine!!!

Bobbie!Katherine is very sarcastic and very uninterested in Jack but when he gives her the drawing makes a 'huh thats pretty good' face

The newsies watching Medda's show pick up the lights at the end of Don't Come A-Knocking and dance in a circle around them, mirroring their dance moves

Josh Denyer (Mush) has his moment to shine in the bit just after don't come a knocking and has a little solo which was heavily applauded, rightly so

When Race 'tells Wiesel (him)self' he literally goes up, closes the money box and just says 'no'

Katherine watches World Will Know from above the Bronx

When Jack writes on the chalk board he shoves Oscar out of the way very harshly several times and he ends up sprawled over some stairs unable to get up

There's a slide

Crutchie joins in with some of the dancing but his face screams 'help me idk how to do this' I love Matthew Duckett

Jack, Les, Davey and Crutchie confer before marching up through a corridor of newsies to the doors of the World. Crutchie stands facing away from the doors when they go in like he's standing guard, when they get thrown out, he falls to the side directly into the arms of another newsie trust fall style.

Despite already being given a borough to go to, Tommy Boy dives face-down under a table to avoid going to Brooklyn, Mush and another newsie (didn't see who 😅) put their bags on their heads

Bobbie!Katherine is a lot more sure of her self which makes it more meaningful when she shows the vulnerability of 'I'm just busting out of the social pages'

Les follows Crutchie at the end of the World Will Know mini-reprise and Crutchie looks sad when Davey calls him to go home, he then calls to Jack who is staying behind to talk to Katherine and says 'for fuck's sake' when he doesn't follow. This was confirmed by the girls in front row Brooklyn who he said it to because they couldn't stop giggling

Crutchie breaks the forth wall a lot

Katherine's hesitation on giving her last name is more played as she doesn't expect to have to provide one

Katherine physically puts distance between herself and Jack when he starts flirting

Watch What Happens is amazing!! Bobbie puts more frustration into it and speaks a lot of the lines, often punctuated by 'ugh'. Fun fact: Watch What Happens was Bobbie's drama school audition song and she has been working on it for actual years, it definitely shows, it was a brilliant delivery.

Davey really shows hesitation before Seize the Day and his voice goes wobbly in all the right places when he calls for Jack to help him out

'Maybe Pulitzer will see it out of his window and feel sorry for us' 'Heh?? *offended Crutchie noises*'

Crutchie is physically restrained from beating up on the scabbers

One of the scabbers is slipped extra money by Wiesel

Seize the Day was incredible as always, all other productions pale in comparison it is seriously next level, mid-song applause and a standing ovation afterwards (which really, really doesn't happen mid-show on the west end)

Splasher's box jumps!! I counted twelve last night. TWELVE.

Military snare in 'behold the brave battalion'

Crutchie stands offstage with Les to watch the Seize the Day dance break and whistles So Loud to cheer them on

And Mush's pirouettes!!!

Crutchie's agonised coughs when he's being arrested jfc Matt is good at that

The fight call for this show is insane, there is so much going on and its all so expertly done, something went a little wrong and Les' rope ascension didn't happen but so much goes on it wasn't missed

Crutchie whistles to signal the arrival of the police

Newspapers fall from the ceiling at the beginning of Santa Fe

Santa Fe was so good, Michael has such a pretty voice even while literally crying and he uses his little postcard a lot throughout, physically leaning over the railing of the tower like he's reaching for the idea of Santa Fe.

Aaaand end of act 1! This is so long so I'll do a part 2 🤣

[unicornsaures]

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

[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

[theloverscardtarot]

Henry Cavill & Current Girlfriend (?)

Hey guys, so this is interesting. I put a question mark there because this has been on my list for a while and the cards are pointing heavily to them breaking up. I'm kind of feeling like they already have, but I did the reading anyway. Remember this is for entertainment purposes only. Enjoy! (maybe)

General Energy

Magician: I feel like someone manifested the other one. They may have felt like meeting each other was magical or that they might have found "the one"

Page of Pents + Judgement: I feel like if they are together, they are still in the "learning about you" stage. If they broke up, I'm not sure they got much further than that stage. They may have felt in the beginning that there was opportunity for a strong and stable relationship. They are or were still judging how they felt about each other. Possibly using their intuition to guide them.

Page of Cups R + Knight of Swords Rev: These cards together suggest there someone might be a bit emotionally immature, disappointment in the relationship and they may be ignoring red flags. There is not much progress and it's a slow-moving relationship. Someone is very bored. Between the two cards I'm getting "bad news", "terrible mistake", "reconsider action" yikes.

Henry's POV

4 of Cups side, 9 of Swords Side, Star Side, 2 of Swords

Well, I feel like Henry is flowing in and out of boredom or stagnation. He's interested and then he's not. And back and forth we go. He may have major anxieties either in his personal life or about this relationship. He could be having sleepless nights. It does seem to lessen. This might be back and forth as well. The star represents hope, renewal, rejuvenation. But it's on the it's side so he's seemed to have lost that too. Alternatively, if they did break up, this would make sense. He had these feelings and then lost them. The two of swords suggests he was ignoring red flags and was trying to decide to stay or go. Another possibility is he had his eye on someone else.

Her POV

4 of Wands side, Tower Chariot, Death, 3 of Pents, Ace of Pents, Ace of swords side, World.

So, right off the bat, with death, tower and world all together in this part, this is what made me think she may have broken up with Henry or she's about to.

She may have joined him in some family celebrations, but either feels like he puts them first and or doesn't get along with them. She may think Henry is a bit controlling or she is trying to be controlling of him or steer the relationship in a certain direction. She may feel like she's doing all the hard work in the relationship and not getting much from him. Ace of Pents suggests "new doors are opening" so she may be looking to start something new with someone else or wishes they could start new. Ace of swords means a breakthrough or clarity about a situation but on it's side, it might mean she doesn't know what to do or where they stand.

Love Outcome

5 of Cups: Grief, disappointment, despair, loss, breakup.

If anybody has any tea on them, please share!

[fierrochase-falafel]

Ted Lasso S2E9, Beard After Hours: What does it mean anyways?

Ok, so the Beard After Hours episode (season 2 episode 9) as a whole initially made no sense to me in terms of the story because of how cryptic and just bonkers it is, but slowly it makes more sense to me the more I rewatch it. I've rewatched it twice now and rest assured the third time, some epiphany may strike and I'll be back here to update this. Everyone seems to dislike this episode, and honestly I understand but there's also something truly fascinating about it. It's like an episode from a whole other show, even the title track sounds different, because this episode is meant to be an episode from Beard's life. This is what Beard's life looks like when he isn't with Ted, which is what the writers have said they were trying to portray. It's a speedbump of an episode where we watch him go through a wringer of a fever dream with no characters we know except the lads from the bar (I love calling them that) and Jamie's dad of all people, and you're left wondering why was this HERE and what does this mean in the context of season 2's overall story? Honestly...I have no idea, but it's fascinating to try and figure out. What I am starting to get a bit of a clue in on though is what this means for Beard's character arc.

Something I want to zero in on first is Beard dropping his keys over and over, something that I knew meant something the first time but I couldn't figure out what. Beard repeatedly drops his keys haphazardly, and there's always someone nicely giving them back to him in the night only for him to drop them again. This represents Beard being caught in a cycle where he struggles to accept help from people who care about him, and thus remains in his cycle. With the implications by the writers that this is what his life is like after work, we can assume he goes through something similar every night- a cycle. We find out more about Beard at the end of season 3, when he tells Nate about stealing Ted's car when Ted helped him (a bit like Zuko in season 2 of ATLA actually), even though he didn't exactly have a reason to steal the car if Ted let him into his house willingly- the main possible reason I can think of would be to get away and not have to need Ted for help. If he has Ted's car, he can go out and live his life by himself, right? With no help needed. There's a sort of expectation in that, that he can't rely on other people- which is actually why he ends up spending a majority of the night alone. He shows up to Bones and Honey with Baz, Paul and Jeremy and then leaves them to go to a room where he hallucinates being insulted by Thierry Henry (which is both sad and hilarious). He meets and leaves the woman, he meets and parts with her husband, he meets up with the lads from the bar again and doesn't join them further, and so on. Even though he had good reasons to leave for the most part (getting chased by a raging and strong man for instance), nobody in his night remains constant EXCEPT his hallucinations of the football pundits with special emphasis on Thierry Henry. They judge him, pressure him about losing the Man City match 5-nil, and make light of his deepest insecurities so he can simultaneously wallow in them by himself but ignore them by seeking the short but eventful company of other people. He wants to escape his thoughts instead of talking them out or being vulnerable with anyone else, so he does all this crazy stuff, only to end up alone and confronted by them anyways.

In regards to Beard and Jane, I have some complicated feelings about their relationship and it can atleast be considered unhealthy, but Jane does truly represent something good for him here and in his perspective, she is what he needs. At the beginning of the night, he refuses to join her because they were arguing beforehand. She apologises, does tell him she loves him, then gets angry with him and stuff via text throughout the night. I think Beard spending the entire night miserable accompanied by people coming and going until he meets Jane says a lot, because it's only when meeting him that he relaxes and dances a bit, and seems to genuinely have fun. In allowing himself to rely on Jane, to have fun and to see the world a bit brighter because of his love for her, he cuts himself a break (as is represented by Thierry Henry smiling at him with no comments). His keys have broken, and he's locked out of his house, yet you forget that for just a little bit because all he sees is her. It's in the camera framing when he sees her and everything. She is really intense and he matches her intensity, which may be comforting for him in a way, as it's not him being reliant but them being codependant on each other. Just as obsessed as he is with her, she is with him: she texts him like 90 messages just because he is absent from text for a little bit, and he has her on video call during his boss's dad's funeral. Everyone sees their relationship as a bad idea, and while I agree, I can see why he doesn't think of it as such, because their codependancy is something that makes him feel better, subconsciously or consciously. With her, he is never alone and both of them rely on each other almost as much as the other, putting them both at the same level of vulnerability if turned away or rejected.

Beard's arc with Jane perhaps echoes Nate's arc with Jade a bit- they both feel less vulnerable and alone with their significant others. This is a bit of a stretch (this is just one lens to look at it, and I definitely don't think this perfectly encapsulates all of Nate's arc), but maybe it makes them feel a little more secure in being able to care for someone without fear of not being cared for with the same level of intensity and need, or without fear of being misunderstood or underestimated. Nate gets over these fears when asking Jade out, fretting about it until she said yes and on the way to realising he didn't have to be so scared of rejection, and Beard developes a relationship with Jane that relies on both of their needs matching each other's. It hence makes sense that Beard would be the one who is subtly paralleled with Nate (especially before season 3's finale when he forgives him), as someone who did the effective wrong thing once and has since realised Ted just-- is nice. That sometimes people care about you, and that's just that. Beard is the one who calls Nate out in season 2 for his needless cruelty, and privately reprimands him, telling him to tell the truth or apologise when being overly harsh and judgemental. Beard is the one attempting to give Nate chances and Beard's the one angry when Nate doesn't take them, because Beard is growing to realise that reliance isn't something that automatically disappoints and sees Nate pulling away from everyone else in his anger and feelings of abandonment. Beard seems to have a tendency to pull away too, but he knows now he can rely on Ted and (kind-of) on Jane, so he knows Nate actively engaging in this behaviour is harmful to himself and the people who care about him. This is...just theory, and maybe it really isn't that deep- especially all this Nate stuff- but it's interesting to consider that maybe they were meant to have some parallels, and it's an interesting angle to look at Beard's character.

That's all I can really muster up about now, but there's always more layers if you're looking for them, and I bet there's more than meets the eye when it comes to Beard even after the 2nd watch. Heck, if I come up with enough more next time, maybe I'll make a part 2 or something. Till then, peace!

[rin-solo]

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.

[dwellordream]

thoughts on TLOU episode 8

I think the episode did a great job giving David’s group a lot more depth and humanity. We never see the larger community he and his men are part of in the game, and while they are never explicitly stated to be religious in the game, I think making them into a cult-like organization that uses religion as a means of group coherence and also control over one another makes a lot of sense.

giving Ellie an actual rifle to use definitely makes it more convincing that David’s group would be very wary of her, whereas in the game her holding off multiple armed men with a bow and arrow is a little more far-fetched (even if they initially are reluctant to kill her regardless).

Ellie’s voice goes so high when she asks if they have medicine, it really illustrates that she does still have that glimmer of childish hope in her, despite all her trauma. unfortunately, it belies her claim that she’s part of a large group, and makes her seem even more vulnerable to David.

the revelation that David used to be a teacher does not really surprise me. it’s also funny to me that they chose to make him from Pittsburgh, which was the original setting of the encounter with Henry & Sam in the game, as opposed to Kansas City.

the actor playing David does a great job in establishing scene chemistry with Ellie, so we can see how it makes sense that she is beginning to warm up to him, at least until James returns and David reveals they know Joel killed their men.

putting the penicillin right into the wound via syringe was definitely... a choice.

the sense I got from how Troy Baker was playing James was that he is aware of David’s predatory behavior and honestly thought Ellie would be better off dead than joining the group and becoming another victim, rather than hating her, specifically

I’m glad they didn’t tone down Joel’s torture scene much. the brutality of the man he used to be came across well, which is difficult when Pedro Pascal is a very emotive, easily woobified actor.

I know some people were upset that David having a sexual interest in Ellie was made explicit in the episode, and that the final confrontation is very clearly veering towards attempted rape, but I think it was very tastefully handled, given the subject matter. while the game doesn’t outright state David is a pedophile, it is very heavily implied through him telling Ellie she is ‘special’ (before he knows she is immune) and holding her hands. I don’t think it was a big leap for the show to make.

Bella Ramsey actually seemed a lot older in this episode. I don’t know if it was the lighting or just her mannerisms, but the show has done a great job showing Ellie mature over the season, and since Ramsey is 19 in real life, she can also play an older Ellie in season 2 without massive changes in makeup or design.

[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 💀