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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

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Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

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Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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blurglesmurfklaine · 3 years

Text

Death Cannot Stop True Love

Summary: After being kidnapped from his kidnapper by the Dread Pirate Roberts, Blaine reminisces on the poor farmboy who once held his heart.

The Princess Bride AU, one shot, 1.7k words

A/N: did i work on ANY of my wips this weekend? no <3

BUT DID I WATCH THE PRINCESS BRIDE TWICE AND THEN SUBSEQUENTLY WRITE THIS? YOu BET YOUR ASS I DID

I've never really written anything like this??? But I surprisingly had a lot of fun with it, so let me know what you think! :D

Read on Ao3

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Blaine’s hands land a bit too roughly against the grey granite for his taste, rather put off by the masked stanger’s manhandling.

He supposes being kidnapped by Willaim Schuester, then having the Dread Pirate Roberts kidnap him from his kidnapper wasn’t quite the delightful way he’d expected to end his evening ride, either.

“Rest, your Highness,” the man in black commands, the strands of tattered fabric that secure his mask tied behind his head billowing in the wind. Blaine refuses to shiver at the cool air of the highland whipping across his face, not wanting to show this man any signs of weakness. “You’re going to need it.”

“You’re the one who’s going to need rest,” Blaine spits, turning to face the man and take a proper seat on the stone. “My betrothed will come for me. Prince Smythe is an excellent tracker. He could track a falcon on a cloudy day, and he and his infantry will have me back in the castle and you in shackles by dusk.”

He should not make such bold claims at a time like this, and certainly not to someone as deadly as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Well, Blaine is only mostly sure he’s speaking to the infamous Pirate known for his murderous voyages on his ship, “Revenge”, but he’s certain enough.

“Ah, yes,” the man says bitterly back, fingers drumming ansty along the handle of his sheathed sword. “Prince Smythe. You have much faith in your most beloved, don’t you?”

Having his daily outing interrupted by that faux-philosopher Schuester from earlier and his two henchmen was unpleasant enough, but of all the things he’s heard come out of someone’s mouth this was the foulest. The law of the land gives Smythe the right to choose his spouse, and he chose Blaine. Despite this, Blaine knows he could never love Sebastian back. Now when he’s really known and lost his true love.

“I never said he was my most beloved,” Blaine snarls.

No. That title belongs to a name too precious to be uttered in front of the likes of a cheating, stealing, slaying pirate.

It’s been five long and lonely years since his dearest Kurt left him to venture out to sea, but Blaine can still feel Kurt’s hand in his sometimes, can still feel the residual warmth, as if it were yesterday. When he closes his eyes, it’s Kurt’s beautiful blue ones that are waiting for him when he falls asleep. Every round that his heart beats, it beats for the long dead Kurt Hummel.

Kurt had been Blaine’s family’s farm boy, and Blaine, in his infantile arrogance, loved nothing more than to boss him around. Whether it was “Farmboy, shine my saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning,” or “Farmboy, take these jugs down by the river to wash,” Kurt always responded with the same simple sentence that sent Blaine’s heart aflutter.

“As you wish.”

Blaine didn’t understand it at first—how could he, when he’d never been in love—the quickening of his pulse when he was near Kurt, how his knees seemed to careen and fail when hazel met piercing blue.

He didn’t understand why, when he’d asked Kurt to clean the stables, Kurt had looked at him with electricity in his eyes like a thunderstorm, and Blaine felt compelled to add a meek, “Please?” to the end of his request. He didn’t understand why when Kurt so softly answered him with those three little words— “As you wish” —Blaine would light like a lantern from the inside out.

He didn’t understand why he asked Kurt to fetch him a pitcher hanging right by his own head, just so he could be graced with having him in such close proximity, chest to chest.

“As you wish,” Kurt had said, and Blaine didn’t understand the magnetic force drawing them closer and closer.

And then Kurt’s lips were on his, and oh, how Blaine finally understood. He understood why wars were waged over Helen of Troy, and why lutists serenaded the public with foolish tunes of love that were actually the least foolish things in their nature.

He understood that every time Kurt said, “As you wish,” what he truly was saying was “I love you.”

He understood so clearly, and everything that wasn’t Kurt was reduced to complete and utter nonsense.

For a short year, they lived on borrowed time. Kurt’s family wasn’t from money, so he left the farm—and with it, Blaine—to seek wealth enough to ask for Blaine’s hand in marriage. It wasn’t long until the news came back to him that Kurt had encountered the Dread Pirate Roberts on the high seas.

There are three things Blaine knows to be true. Kurt Hummel was his one true love, death takes everyone and does not discriminate, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.

Kurt never returned to him after that.

“No, I suppose he’s not your one true love,” the Dread Pirate responds, unimpressed. “I wonder whether a royal-to-be like yourself has ever truly loved.”

“I’ve loved and been loved deeper than you will ever know!” Blaine counters. “He was stolen from me, his blood on your sword. I know who you are. You’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it.”

The Dread Pirate gives a little flourish, his night black outfit a stark contrast to the verdant grass of the highlands. “With pride.”

“You killed my love.”

“Quite possible. I’ve killed many of noble blood aboard my ship.”

“You know nothing,” Blaine says. “He was poor. Poor and perfect and with eyes like the sea after a storm. I received notice that he’d crossed your path on the high seas, and as we all know, you never take prisoners.”

Roberts shrugs, displaying such upsetting nonchalance at Kurt’s demise. “Can’t afford to make any exceptions. Once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time.”

Being held hostage by Schuester while the Dread Pirate fought off Michael Chang, one of the best swordsman ever to walk the earth, was nerve wracking. Hearing how he then proceeded to physically conquer who is probably the tallest man Blaine has ever seen, and then listening as he sat blindfolded to this man outwit William into drinking from a poisoned cup was a hellish enough adventure on its own, but it was not as dreadful as hearing his anguish ridiculed by this stranger.

“You mock my pain!”

“Life is pain, Highness.” The pirate gives Blaine a look that he would consider hurt, if he did not hate him so. “Anyone who says different is selling something… I think I remember this farmboy of yours. This would be about what, five years ago?”

Five years, three months, and sixteen days, Blaine refuses to say. His silence doesn’t deter Roberts from continuing.

“He died well, if it pleases you to hear that much.”

“With all due respect—which is little to none—nothing you can say will please me. Likewise, nothing you can say will harm me.”

“He made no attempts at either bribery or blubbering. He simply said Please. I need to live. It was the please that caught my attention. I need to live for him.” The pirate’s eyes grow misty and distant and so painfully reminiscent of his love’s that Blaine is forced to look away for a moment. “He spoke of a boy so lovely, and of enduring faithfulness. Sad to see he died for nothing. Tell me, Highness, when you heard news of his death, did you immediately become engaged, or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?”

“Had I a choice in this matter I would join him among the realm of the dead!” Blaine yells back, surprised to see a bit of shock in the thief’s eyes. “You mocked my pain once, do not do it again. I died that day!”

The unmistakable sound of hooves pounding into the ground of the hillside opposite them causes Blaine to sigh in relief. He never thought he would be so elated to see his fiance. Still... elated may be too strong of a word.

The Dread Pirate turns to scout the incoming commotion, and Blaine acts before he has time to second guess himself.

“And you can die, too, for all I care,” he grits out, and shoves hard on the Dread Pirate’s back, sending the murderer tumbling down the hillside.

Blaine’s expecting to hear shouts of terror coming from the pirate, but what he hears next makes his stomach pool with dread.

“Aaaaaas yoooouuuuu wiiiiiiish!” echoes through the hillside, coming from the Dread Pirate Roberts and Blaine’s jaw drops.

“Kurt,” he gasps. “Oh God, what have I done?”

“Over there!” he hears Sebastian’s familiar and grating voice call out from just beyond the hillside. One glance behind his shoulder and Blaine knows they will come for him, and when they do, he will never see Kurt again.

So he jumps forward and follows Kurt rolling down along the slope of the hill.

Small rocks and flowers swirl past him in a blur, dirt kicked up every time his boots collide with the ground, and after falling for what feels like ages, his body finally comes to a halt, right next to Kurt’s warm one.

Blaine shifts to see Kurt better, body bruised from the fall, but soul absolutely jubilant.

Kurt scrambles over to him, black mask having been knocked off in the tumble. “Are you alright? Can you stand?”

Blaine laughs and reaches out to grab Kurt’s— Kurt’s —hand on top of his chest. as if to keep them physically tethered this time. “Stand? You’re alive. If you want, I could fly.” He buries his head deep into Kurt’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of him mixed with the grass and the dirt and the absolute joy of him being alive.

Kurt holds him back just as tight. “I told you I’d always come for you.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“My sweet Blaine,” Kurt murmurs, hand warm against Blaine’s cheek. “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Blaine barely has time to smile before Kurt’s lips are on his again, back in their rightful place.

#klaine #glee #wow look at me im writing!#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #kurt hummel #blaine anderson

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wingingitonwheels · 2 years

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Achievement

Not one single thing was ever achieved without intention. Jim Carrey (I know! Who’d have thought? 😆)

Before I get started on my 4 day download, I have to just admit to a crisis of confidence. It’s weird exposing your inner thoughts with people you know well, not at all and everyone in between. I’m nobody, just someone on an extended holiday, doing my thing. I’m not trying to be anything, but I hope that if you’ve kindly taken the time to read my regular mutterings, that they bring something positive to your day. I guess they must do or you wouldn’t read! It doesn’t matter why you read but that you do is great. I’m sure sometimes it’s dull, I’m not a journalist or writer, but I mostly enjoy sharing!

El Bolson - 6th February

Can you recall a time, a particular second, when something you’ve worked towards finally happens?

Two days ago on Friday 4th February, I summited a final climb 100 miles into that day’s ride towards Esquel, Andes proper as I liked to think of the ride, the road swung left and began to descend and then there they were. An avenue of copper and jade green barren mountains and a string of asphalt that went as far as the eye could see before melting into the distant landscape.

There’s only been a few times in my life when the same sensation came out of nothing and completely blew my mind…I used to be a pretty good athlete, now 15-20 years ago (wow, time flies!). As a result of mum dying, I took a pledge with myself to live as fulfilled a life as I could, both for myself and for my two babies at the time, George and Jess. I wanted to be a good role model as any parent did, and for me, I took solace and pain management in the form of running. I ran my first marathon since aged 18 in memory of her, and very quickly, I got quite good!

After just 2 years of having a go, applying structure, taking the plunge and heading down to the running track, I somehow decided that I’d try and qualify for the Olympics, as I’d closely admired a number of runners since being a wee thing. Zola Budd, Prefontane, Seb Coe, to be honest, the list was exhaustive. I wrote a letter to a stalwart of the sport, Frank Horwill and asked “In your view, what does it take to be an Olympic Marathoner?” To my surprise, I got a response by mail, as it was in the early 2000s, and on the envelope, he wrote “2004 Olympic qualifier”. The butterflies that rose in my tummy were like an impending eruption of Mount St. Helens. The thing was, this was 2002, and I had been thinking of 2008! He was 4 years too early! Admittedly, I was also 30 and a mum of 2, so time wasn’t really on my side, so I got my racing flats on and started dreaming.

My race times over all distances from 1500m to marathon dropped almost every time I ran. But most notably were the London Marathons. In 2001, as I ran down London Embankment with the Thames to my left, I remember hearing Big Ben chime midday, and thought, wow, that’s pretty cool! The next year, I vowed to get there before Big Ben struck 12 which meant running a sub-3 hour marathon. And so it was, 2 hours 53. I did it! However, as I ran down Embankment, willing my legs to push on, I looked right and who should come past me, but one of my heroes, Haile Gabreselese, the Ethiopian running god who has been a dream maker for so many. It didn’t feel real! To be fair, he made me look like I was waiting for a bus! But it provided my motivation for the next year, which was to beat Haile to the line. Now this would mean I’d have to now run sub 2:45. In the months that lead to 2003’s marathon, I met a British coach called Bud Buldaro. Bud knew a thing or two, and when I responded to his question, what time will you run, “sub 2:45” I replied, he had a little chuckle. At the time, my half-marathon was 1:21:51, recorded at the Berkhamsted Half marathon. He laughed as it’s generally known that in order to predict your marathon time from a half marathon, you double the half and add 10-15 minutes. I was pretty sure. I had to. I had to get to the line before Haile! (I have to add that I’m clearly not faster, but the elite women’s race starts 30 mins before the men’s). And so it was. I crossed the line before the elite men in a time of 2:43, stood on the podium with Paula Radcliffe and Michaela McCallum (who was 2nd Brit to my 3rd) and promptly threw up. I was also in a bit of a mess. I’m not going into details, but if you look up Joan Benoit Samuelson, you’ll understand. I had to rob a mother of some baby wipes during the race and find a space blanket. Say no more.

Then finally, the following year, 2004 was Olympic qualifying year. To travel to Athens, you had to be the first British woman to cross the line in a qualifying time of 2:37 or less. Game on. I left no stone unturned in training, a car crash nearly stopped my attempt. I’d heard some years earlier via a friend, that someone well known in the area I competed with, had publicly laughed and scoffed, saying there was no way I would qualify…that was just the additional motivation I needed. All I had to do was run at least 6 minutes quicker than my previous time. Everything in training and races in my build up said it was possible…at 16 miles, considering the previous year’s event, I took a dive into a portaloo. My bowels had a mind of their own. When I returned to the course, I thought that there were probably 10 ladies up the road, but resumed my pace, passing only one competitor shortly after. The rain was hammering down this time on Embankment, and I didn’t care. My Olympic dream may have been gone, but I was still going to try. And then it happened. 2:35:51. I crossed the line, threw up, and it was clear only then I was the 4th British woman and less than two minutes between us all. (Results) Tracey Morris would go. Qualification was just that. My Olympic dream at least for these Olympics was over. There has never been such a bitter sweet moment in my life.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_London_Marathon

In 2006, I took a different path, not because I fell out with running, but a number of fateful situations took place, and from that year, I became a duathlete, a triathlete and eventually, a cyclist in 2009, stopping competition largely until 2016. At each event where I hit the podium representing Great Britain, I’d be sick after crossing the line. Sometimes I didn’t even finish the race before wretching; of particular hilarity was at the UK Half Ironman in 2007 at Wimbleball in Devon. A lovely couple in their 70s were sat minding their own business on a park bench and realising I was in podium position and about to finish, I started wretching as I ran past in my crop top and racing knickers. It wasn’t very pretty.

I mention this as these memories came to mind not long after I reached the Andes Avenue of Dreams. It wasn’t a race, but my goodness, how hard had I worked to make this happen and there, right there and then, the realisation. It was no longer a dream. I’d made it happen before I was too old, come Covid, job, ties, teeth, knees, health and hair loss. Here was why. And in that moment, I just felt sick 😆. But it’s ok. It wasn’t a race and it soon passed.

With that delight and too many days that have passed, I think I should do a bit of a diary of the days until today:

Wednesday 2 February - Perito Moreno - Rio Mayo - Los Tamariscos (the desert)

What’s this, no insane headwind? It was going to be a good day. There are actually border controls between the provinces, as it happens, but I’m of no interest to the police and they wave me through. If only Chile borders were the same…

Reached Rio Mayo in great time, but after what I thought was going to be ravioli (it was, but had half a cow on top - this was apparently Argentinian Salsa), I felt refreshed, but uninspired with yet another desert town, and pushed on, knowing 100km up the road, where I’d planned to stop the following night, there was a little parador. I didn’t know if they’d have a bed, but took a gamble.

230km for the day, I rocked up, they gave me a bed, and cooked me the best meal I’d had since arriving in the country. Pumpkin and curd cheese pie, cooked by Liliana and her family.

Whilst waiting for dinner being suspiciously guarded by the border collie with crazy eyes, Omar, another cyclist turned up with his ton of gear, and was told he’d be camping as I’d got the room first. I offered to share but he declined. Two single beds! Oh well! I won! He was cycling from San Juan to Ushuaia over two months. My first cyclist! And going south.

Thursday 3 February - Los Tamariscos - Gobernador Costa

Set off for the day full of determination, accompanied by Star Wars sound track. It seemed perfect as the wind took battle with me once again. After 3 hours and only half way into 132km ride, my resolve was weakening, and as the Kilometres ticked by, I soon realised that I’d have to start rationing my nutrition. With 20 miles to go, 3 sweets and not much drink left, I calculated that I could have 1 sweet at 18, 12 and 6 miles to go, and a sip of drink on 15, 10 and 5 miles to go. With 5 miles to go, my ability to fight the wind had diminished and I resorted to calculating that with 5 minute miles I was now riding (this is very slow on the flat), I’d be at my destination for the day in 25 minutes. So I planned to break this imaginary time trial and each mile that passed, I celebrated at the 20, 49, 63 seconds up on my fictitious target that I gained, until finally, I arrived under cloud, spots of rain beginning, at what looked like a slag heap. This was natural land formation but it was also god damn ugly. Fed up and tired, I found refuge in Palo’s cabinas. Basic yes! But Palo, for all his lack of English language, shared with great gusto, all the viento feroz I would suffer on the way to Esquel and then El Bolson. “This section: dangerous…everywhere, in your left shoulder. Here the cross winds, here, death.” It was both funny and scary.

Friday 4 February - Gobernador Costa - Esquel

Having watched the stiff Argentinian flag point eastwards the day I arrived in this god forsaken town, mercifully, when I woke up and set out, and the wind had turned 180 degrees and dropped significantly. But impending clouds of doom were sailing towards me and I felt sick with worry over the words of doom Palo had shared with me as I set off.

But alas…what was this? The bike gods were helping me to the mountains? Could luck be on my side? Could the desert and all its hostilities be slowly diminishing as the mountains claimed their territory? 12 days of desert had been as much experience as was needed for now.

The miles ticked by and I found my rhythm. Kilometre markers provided instruction: drink on numbers divisible by 5 and eat on zeros. It felt like the mountains were calling me to them.

The mountain corridor continued and the clouds headed elsewhere. What was that I smelt? Naturally growing vegetation in the form of trees beside a river? With the absence of life for what felt like eternity, the aroma of foliage was overwhelming, like smelling perfume when you’ve not smelt it for months. Magic!

And then it happened. The Andes. There. Right there. Where I am now!

Just as I thought things couldn’t get any better, I arrived in Esquel, and to my amazing Airbnb hosts, Lucia and her mother Grazia. In seven years of using the Airbnb site, I’d never felt so welcome! A washing machine, fully stocked fridge and so much chat! An hour later, I ripped off my kit, threw everything into the washing machine and watched three episodes of Ozark. The day was completed by what is apparently a common scene in rural Argentina: a neighbour serenading all his neighbours with traditional folk music of voice and guitar. Completely informal, and everyone applauded from their own gardens. This day had been my best so far, just two weeks in, and with at least 20 to go. Life is good!

Saturday 5 February - Esquel

I knew Esquel was worth a stop and having made up a day in the desert on the way, I opted to stay two nights. For the first time since arriving, I felt like I was in the throbbing heart of a beating country. I’d seen a little train on the way in and researched La Trochita before bed. I’d hoped to somehow get a ride on this little narrow gauge mountain train, largely as Dad was an avid steam train fanatic. I saw it as slightly tragic being the little brat that I was, but along with the little model trains he built to go on his loft size model railway, Dad also listened to steam engine albums. What child can think this is a good thing? All booking systems were down but I pushed my luck and rocked up at the train station, hoping to get a ride on Sunday. I wasn’t alone. 15 other hopeful tourists waited with baited breath as the staff counted empty seats on the carriages, and then one by one, called waiting passengers forward in order of name. As the last waiting passenger, I got a seat! The team just took my bike and stored it in their office and I was off! What had happened to me? How could I be so excited about a ride on a train, and even more alarmingly, slower than my bike? Somehow, being in the Andes made everything acceptable, and with my face completely outside the window and in the wake of the engine’s steam and grime, we were off on a little ride to nowhere which would take an hour each way. With the windows open, I considered that other than a bike, was there any better way to travel? Little La Trochita twisted and ground her way up to a settlement called Nuel Pan, her engine was turned and we descended back to Esquel. Magic! I learnt that this train was one of four remaining. They used to carry goods to the mountain villages, but eventually the road network improved along with the motor industry, and so began their demise. At one point in time, in their 100 year history, the trains used to carry their passengers to the mainline, which on a good day would take 20 hours. They each had little stoves in their carriages called Salamanders. The trains would go so slowly, the passengers could jump off and collect firewood to keep the flames burning whilst they heated water and cooked soup.

On the same journey, I met Suzy! An English speaking American living in Washington DC, and a cyclist, but here fulfilling her dream of being bi-lingual - this was her third year and she only considered herself to be intermediate! There is no hope for me. Now in her fifth year of retirement from a very prominent position of power in the fashion industry in New York, Suzy, a burst of sunlight and energy had become a Doula! Being only partly educated, I had no clue what this was, but it is someone who helps new mothers and their babies once they are back in their homes and adapting to their new lives together. Such a change! Suzy and I got on so well together, she joined me for my pre-booked tea at Nain Maggie’s Tea House in the small relic of Welsh migration to Patagonia that is Trevelin.

I don’t know what I was expecting, well to be honest I do know. I was expecting Usk in Patagonia! But with only a few Welsh signs and only one Welsh flag, it felt that the Welsh had long left Trevelin, but it was still quite quaint in a touristic way.

Whilst the cakes and cheese scone and copious tea from the enormous pot were delightful, the highlight of this particular excursion was Suzy. We chatted until the last bit of room underneath my diaphragm was taken by cake, and with the arrival of her taxi driver, it was time to go. A real friend and for longer than five minutes!

Two of the ladies who worked at the tea room had spotted my bike and were drawn in like magnets. Until then, my bike had blended in everywhere and gone largely unnoticed, but it turned out, these lovely Argentinian ladies, perhaps of Welsh descent, were also keen cyclist. They picked it up…and were astounded at the weight of M-powered, that well-known bike manufacturer from, er, nowhere 😆. I was tempted to let them have a go and the I woke up. A lift is enough, thank you Ladies, even if your cake was outstanding.

Having cycled to and from Trevelin, I’d been invited for beers with my hosts next door when I was ready. The day had been packed full, from buying new cycling mitts at 9 to arriving home at 6. This bike shop wasn’t so friendly. For them it was neither possible to clean and oil my chain or for me to borrow their cleaner and oil at a charge, but new gloves…

At 9pm, I made it next door for a quick cervesa and some company. Lucia and her 8 year old daughter Lucia (meaning light - I learnt some interesting names such as the lady called Solidad who was travelling in a camper with her partner between Ushuaia and Alaska - over SEVEN YEARS - meant solo, to be alone. Lucia said this was a terrible name and told me that in Argentina, Delores is also quite a popular name. But it means “of pain”! Who in their right mind would give their children these names?) was joined by her musician boyfriend, Julio. They taught me how to say naranja (naaa-rhaaan-hhhhhhhhhhha) and about living in Argentina, it’s politics, lack of social welfare and employment law, and corruption and poverty. I taught Lucia how to say Edinburgh. Lucia was surprised that I had found everyone to be so friendly except that my openness encouraged people to open up. I didn’t buy that but I had got the inside perspective of being Argentinian by someone working in local government.

With a long day ahead the next day, I offered for Lucia to come and stay should she make it to England. It’s all I’ve got. So the list of potential guests grew to 10.

I’ll have to leave it for now as I’ll never get on the road. But besides her gift of warmth and sharing, Lucia gave me another for the energy I will need on the road: Dulce De Leche. Heaven in a pot. Consumed with a giant Rice Krispie cake looking at a mountain yesterday and today on porridge. Living La Vida Loca. De Nada! 😘

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julieandthefandoms · 4 years

Text

Best Day Of Our Lives

A Jemma wedding fic featuring a Kitty reunion, married with children Kierartina, and Haline being cute together. It can also be found here on AO3 :)

Also, a thank you to Kaitlin, @ineedadrinkorsleep, for allowing me to use her list of Kierartina baby names, you’re amazing!

Tagging @katie33333 @tessagraycarstairs @zafirafox4636 @fairchild-squad @lily-chen-deserves-better @ineedadrinkorsleep @older-brother-kit because I have a tag list now!

Julian straightened the collar of the suit. It was bright in shade, a thing of fire and gold. It was the kind of fire so bright it almost seemed to hold no color at all, leaving the shimmering runes custom to shadowhunter weddings to almost compete with the brightness of it. It was blinding, and Julian could admire the craftsmanship of the suit, tailored to near perfection. Julian could care less about the flashiness of the suit though. It wouldn’t matter whether he were wearing jeans, or even were covered in paint splatters. What mattered was that he was getting married to his best friend, Emma Carstairs.

For the longest time, he was sure he wouldn’t have this opportunity. He had thought he had sealed his fate on that day in Idris. The day after the Dark War, when he had asked the person he loved to be his parabatai. He was prepared to live a life of unrequited love, but by some stroke of luck, he was getting married to her. The bond had been broken, and they could be together. He could be happy.

A pang went through him as he thought back to those days, back when Livvy was still with them. She would've been wild with excitement to be there, to have planned it to perfection. Julian was almost surprised that the pain hadn’t dwindled over time, but there was still an ache as he thought of her. The feeling of loss never truly fades. He had enough space in his heart to love Emma, while still hurting from the loss of his sister.

Julian tugged at the bottom of the jacket once more.

“You look lovely, Jules.” He turned to spot his sister, Helen Penhallow Blackthorn, his suggenes, leaning against the doorframe, a bright smile on her face. She herself was dressed in a flowing gown barely brushing against the top of the floor. “We should probably get going though, you wouldn’t want to be late to your own wedding.”

~^*^~

Kit Herondale should have known better. It was bound to happen really, he was definitely pushing his luck after about the second or third wedding he’d been to, but he hadn’t expected it to be so sudden. It had all started earlier that year, when virtually every friend of Jem and Tessa’s had collectively decided to destroy Kit’s life, a simple one of sneaking Mina extra cookies and avoiding his problems, by forcing him to face all his problems at their weddings. And currently, he was faced with the person he was avoiding most.

Kit had somehow managed to skate by during most of the weddings though. Simon and Isabelle’s was first, Kit having managed to stay as close to the crowd as possible, and silently slipping away after the main portion of the ceremony to reduce his chances of getting involved in a rather awkward discussion. Only a few months had passed before Clary and Jace got married as well, Kit glimpsing a head of dark hair before bolting as soon as he could, claiming that he had to take care of Mina. In fact, what was doing was hiding in the library, pouring his heart out to his little sister.

“You’d think after 3 years my heart would stop beating so rapidly that I became concerned about my own health, but no,” Kit glanced at Mina, who was currently laughing at him, eyes half shut from joy.

She let out another giggle.

“How dare you find joy in my pain?” he said, dramatically laying a hand on his head and leaning back against the bookshelf, though the smile illuminating his face revealed his true intentions. “How can I go on now, betrayed by my own sister?”

Kit smiled at the thought.

Kieran, Mark, and Cristina’s wedding had been somewhat more challenging, him having been caught behind a huge oak tree by none other than Livvy Blackthorn, but he had somehow managed to convince her to tell no one, i.e. her twin brother, a.k.a. the person Kit was trying so desperately to avoid.

“Please, Livvy, don’t tell him I’m here,” Kit was pleading now, already on his knees, gazing up at the ghost above him.

Livvy rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I want you to do this on your terms. Remember though, my ship must be canon!”

“Your what?!-”

And that finally brought them up to this wedding, Emma and Julian’s to be more specific. Having been related to, however distant that relation may be, the bride had seemingly got the Herondale/Gray/Carstairs family (or as Kit liked to call it, the Herongraystairs family) a one way ticket to the wedding, and consequently, Kit facing the person he was dreading to meet again.

It had been going relatively well, he’d thought, the ceremony about to begin, and Kit quietly tucked into a corner. That was until Mina dragged him towards the table piled high with drinks, having spotted Max Lightwood-Bane, Rafael Lightwood-Bane, Tavvy Blackthorn, Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales, and Nico Blackthorn-Rosales (Cristina, Mark, and Kieran had Gianna and Nico a year before being married, and Mina instantly fell for them, claiming that they were her “best fwends”) playing near there, and Kit had thought maybe a drink or two wouldn’t hurt. He was severely wrong of course as Kit had failed to notice one head of dark hair standing not far from that very table.

Kit blamed Mina’s doe eyes, and his ability to fall for them instantly.

After his first drink, a voice had made Kit turn, causing him to end up where he was currently, nearly on the floor.

“Hello. I’d like to talk to you.”

~*^*~

Julian was bubbling with joy, a smile brightening his face as he was led to a platform, Helen by his side. He stopped at the top of the steps, turning to give Helen an appreciative nod and a smile. Julian took a sharp inhale as Emma walked around the corner, Cristina lending her off to the stage. All thoughts left him. She was breathtaking, wrapped in a gold silk gown that hugged her waist before flaring down to the ground. A sheer overlay on the silk skirt caught the brightness of the witchlight, complimenting the gold in her hair.

But it wasn’t only gold, was it? It was a beautiful mix of cadmium yellows, naples yellows, golds, yellow ochres.

She was beautiful, and Julian couldn’t help but think that he was the luckiest person in the world. As Emma reached the platform, she leaned in, a grin plastered on her face.

“I know, I look stunning.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a playful manner.

Julian shot back a nod. “It is your wedding, I’d expect no less.”

And with that, the ceremony began, Brother Enoch reciting a few words, before steles appeared in their hand. It passed by in a blur, and before Julian knew it, they were kissing. Time seemed to still, Julian thought he heard a crash somewhere in the crowd, a flash of blond hair blurring by the table, but he paid no attention to it. The room melted away, it was as though they, Emma and Julian, were the only two people in the room. It was perfect.

~*^*~

“HOLY-” Kit choked on his drink. He had forgotten how graceful shadowhunters were, how easily they could move without alerting anyone surrounding them. Unfortunately, that shadowhunter grace had apparently skipped a generation because Kit found himself clutching at the table for support, having nearly fallen from shock.

“Are you alright?” It was none other than Tiberius Nero Blackthorn, his arm outstretched. He was looking at him, and at that moment, all rational thought left him. He said something roughly equivalent to an audible keysmash before clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Kit brushed himself off, standing up as though nothing had happened. If you pretend to be confident, it won’t be long until you begin to feel confident as well. For the first time since the wedding fiasco began, he actually looked at Ty. He was taller now, Kit was surprised to see, though he supposed he shouldn’t have. Three years did a lot to change someone, he supposed, but those eyes were the same. A beautiful yet deadly storm churning above a sea. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Kit leaned against the table once more, this time a bit more suave and cool, and less panicky than the first.

“Why are you avoiding me?” It was a simple question, clear as day. Kit choked up a bit. “And why did you leave?”

All of a sudden, he was fifteen again, doing anything he could for Ty, the beautiful shadowhunter that had held a knife to his throat. The nephilim he would have done anything for. Years of suppressing his emotions didn’t prepare Kit for this moment, he doubted anything could have. Ty looked calm enough, but his hands were frantically twisting and unknotting a ball of pipe cleaners. He was nervous, Kit knew it, and so Kit blurted it out. He never could have told Ty a lie, even if he wanted to. Even after three years.

“Because I was hurt, and I was running away from what had happened,” Kit took a deep breath, as Ty nodded, understanding it. Kit, suspecting he was going to turn away, proceeded to continue talking, hoping to get a laugh, a smile, anything out of Ty. “Tessa thinks it was the Herondale dramatics though.”

Kit didn’t add the second part of what she said, “Running away from the person you love ‘for their own good’ is alarmingly common among Herondales,” but Ty let out a laugh, bright and brilliant, so it was a win in Kit’s book.

It was an amazing laugh, low and lovely, beautiful to hear.

“Tessa knows Herondales well.”

“She does.”

The silence stretched on for a moment, though it was a comfortable one. A silence in which both parties simply enjoyed the presence of the other.

The soft piano finally registered in Kit’s mind. A crazy idea formed in his head, one his fifteen year old self would banish to the darkest corners of his brain.

“May I have this dance?”

Turned out he wasn’t the only one to have that idea, Kit thought as he accepted Ty’s hand. An impish grin spread across Kit’s face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

~*^*~

Soft music began playing from the piano in the corner, Jace Herondale shooting a wink at Helen as she rolled her eyes at his antics. A smile rested upon her face, as Helen looked at her brother and Emma, both beaming joy, foreheads together as they swayed to the music. It was so genuine, and beautiful, she couldn’t stop grinning even if she wanted to. She’d already missed so much of her family’s life, exiled on Wrangel Island, that she was glad to be here, sharing this moment with them.

And how lovely it was, gold decorations pinned to the walls, tables lined with dishes and drinks. Kieran, Mark, and Cristina were on the sides, cooing at their third child, Emelia, an adorable baby girl born only a few months ago. Helen spotted Ty dancing with Kit by the drink table, both blissfully unaware of the children bouncing about close to them. Dru was at the center of the ballroom with Jaime Rosales, gown flaring as she was spun.

Aline leaned into her, resting her head upon Helen’s shoulder. She was stunning, in a wine red gown with glittering gold accents, dark hair brushing against her back. Helen couldn’t stop but think about how lucky she was, to have someone so beautiful, so wonderful.

“Young love, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Her wife was most certainly correct, and Helen agreed wholeheartedly.

“It really is.”

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hopevalley · 3 years

Text

Season 8, Episode 2: Honestly, Elizabeth

I think I’ll do all my write-ups this year scene-by-scene. It’s easier to keep track of everything that happens in the episode that way, and I can write up thoughts while I’m watching the episode.

I’ll just jump right in!

Scene 1: Narration/Jack Jack

The first scene starts out with Elizabeth writing in her journal about the arrival of Lucas’s mother to town, and I think the writing here was actually polished up as to be concise and fairly decent. I didn’t mind seeing Jack staring at his father’s picture, but I think what would have made a much more compelling scene would have been for him to turn away from the picture and pick up a toy off of the ground and just start playing with it. Something symbolic of moving on, or at least of Jack’s lack of connection to his father at this age. While he’d certainly be curious when he gets older, at his current age he has no real reason to care.

Elizabeth waxing poetic about how strong and brave Jack was, and how her son embodies those same traits is…I don’t know. It came off a little silly to me—like it was trying just a little too hard to be meaningful.

—

Scene 2: Lucas check on Helen

I like that Lucas seems to care for his mother a lot, and that he wants to help her. I think he realizes there’s perhaps more to her visit than merely wanting to see Elizabeth, but isn’t willing to push for that kind of information. My guess is that they’re just not that emotionally close to one another.

—

Scene 3: The Crate of DOOM

Joseph from the railroad brings a delivery for Lee and in helping Joseph carry it, Lee hurts his back. This was a genuinely good scene. CALLCARSONCALLCARSONCALLCARSON. It also has the advantage of making everyone feel friendly and neighborlike. Elizabeth popping out of her house, Jesse just stopping by… It was nice.

—

Scene 4: Nathan and Elizabeth Talk

Opal’s dress was really cute in this scene, and Robert really is growing up fast! I’m glad Allie and Opal seem attached to him; the show feels more cohesive with its little friend groups and it’s been hard to really show that off since Cody left. Allie fills that void easily and I think gets better lines/dialogue/scenes as well. She gets treated like a character of the appropriate age.

Also, Nathan treating Robert respectfully is nice. It comes off like he recognizes Robert’s good intentions and genuine enthusiasm and treats him appropriately, too.

The little quip about Allie being interested in boys was cute (and not over-the-top), and I like that Nathan is the first to bring up the missed…dinner date. Elizabeth’s response is interesting to me; she does seem a little more enthusiastic, at least about how fun it would have been had she followed through on it. When Nathan suggests they could try it again, though, she clams up. I think what’s interesting about it is that she doesn’t look disgusted or unhappy with the idea, just…a tad uncomfortable—like she wants to say something but can’t/won’t. A pretty good scene.

—

Scene 5: Introducing Joseph Canfield

At this point in the episode I knew I’d love Joseph. He’s so wholesome and pleasant both in his demeanor and his offer to pray for Lee.

—

Scene 6: Nichols and Dimes

I really am enjoying Fiona’s interactions with Mike Hickam. Actually, I’m enjoying that Mike gets any lines at all. He’s a pretty good actor and deserving of the screentime. Also that man has a butt and they’re showing of in like, every other scene he’s in LOL. Fiona trying to explain the reason for the name of the shop is quirky without being too over-the-top I think. It works well enough and I think lends some more personality to her character.

This scene gave us some more low-key genuinely funny stuff with Jesse repeating “Nichol isn’t spelled that way, right?”

Henry’s surprise at the barber being a woman isn’t too over the top either. At this time, barbers would just about always be men, because not only did they handle haircuts and shaves, but it served as a gossip (and business, as Fiona mentioned in the last episode) center for all the men in the area AND the barber usually also treated things like toothaches and first aid if a doctor wasn’t around.

I admit her reaction to all the men running off was...a bit surprising. I figured her feelings would be hurt, but she literally just laughs it off, maybe just too excited at having her own business to continue to think about, you know, what will happen if she doesn’t get customers.

—

Scene 7: Joseph runs out of gas.

There isn’t much to say here, but when he walks back to town he sings “It Is Well with My Soul” which was always one of my favorite hymns. My pastor had his own piano arrangement of it and everything. I knew from this moment forward that I would defend him to the death.

—

Scene 8: At the clinic

This is probably not the most...accurate medical scene ever, but it wasn’t bad. The best part about it was actually Molly, though. It looks like she’s really thrown herself into working with Carson and she’s used to it and even enjoys it!

—

Scene 9:Nathan and Bill talk

The scene is super simple but I think it was excellently done. Nathan wants to adopt Allie and Bill thinks that’s a fine idea in theory, but in starting proceedings (court filings, public notices, et cetera) he could stir things up. It sounds like Bill and Nathan spoke about Dylan since Bill knows how Dylan found him (the newspaper article).

Bill mentions a fee and at first I thought this was going to be the start of a really sour joke about Bill being greedy or something, but to my surprise (AND IMMENSE RELIEF), they were just discussing it like a business transaction...which it is. Nathan trusts Bill to be fair with that... AND I LOVE IT.

Allie’s mother’s full name is Colleen Mayes Grant. Allie’s full name is Allison Mayes Parks. Would Parks also be Colleen’s full name if she were married to Dylan? Am I missing something here?

Anyway, Nathan and Bill then talk about the money that Nathan used to trap Dylan, and Nathan admits he got it from Lucas, which...surprises Bill.

“You asked Lucas?! You do love your niece.” Nathan is a little amused by it, but I think this is interesting. I mean, 1) Nathan asked Lucas in the first place, which is telling, but also, 2) Lucas loaned him the money without even asking what it was for. Maybe they are not on such bad terms after all, lol. ;)

Nathan points to a map and asks about some land, and Bill says he owns that land, and that he was thinking of building a cabin on it but he’s just not really that sure he wants to. Nathan asks if he’d be willing to sell and Bill (jokingly) asks, “How much of that money did you give back to Lucas?”

Good scene, wholesome scene. I genuinely enjoy watching these two interact. It almost reminds me of the older seasons when Bill and Frank and Jack would all scheme together; stuff like this just helps build up the characters a lot, and it helps the town feel...real.

—

Scene 10: Lucas and Elizabeth Chat

This was a short but nice scene. I think it’s clear Lucas is a bit worried about his mother and asks Elizabeth to visit her in the hopes that it might encourage her to talk to someone or feel better.

At first I thought this was perhaps a bit much, like...she barely knows the woman why would Helen even want a visit from Elizabeth? But then I thought...well, Lucas is probably thinking of the fact that Elizabeth has spoken with Helen now and again about her writing, so a visit from her would be expected since she’s in town.

I like Elizabeth’s honesty in admitting she was intimidated by Helen. “So she does bite!” Kind of a cute/silly scene. I liked it.

—

Scene 11: Rosemary and Elizabeth talk.

This was probably the second weakest scene in the episode. Rosemary just says hi and tells Elizabeth she can’t help with anything regarding Lee, and then Elizabeth says she’s off to visit Helen, and Rosemary says “Oh, the old saying...the way to an editor’s heart.”

Elizabeth replies with, “I don’t think that’ show that saying goes.”

I think they were trying for Funny here but it misses its mark and doesn’t really add anything to the episode. I’d have rather had an earnest word of encouragement from Rosemary.

—

Scene 12: Elizabeth visits Helen

There are a lot of things to like about this. Helen takes her job very seriously, and corrects Elizabeth (“book” vs. “manuscript”—it ain’t a book yet!). Helen comments on Elizabeth being undisciplined but this is an objectively true statement (whether Elizabeth likes it or not).

I think Helen is actually really understanding when Elizabeth blurts out that she was late with her first draft because, “I decided not to let my writing interfere with my life.” She’s pretty calm about it, and says maybe her trip was for nothing.

Elizabeth springs back and hurries to explain that while her writing means a lot to her, and she takes it seriously, it’s also not her main source of income. I was really worried that Helen was going to come off as this huge bitch hurting Poor Widdle Ewizabiff’s Feewings but I think she’s actually pretty great in this scene. She doesn’t come off as the bad guy, but neither does Elizabeth. In fact, I feel like both characters communicate quite cleanly and it seems Helen appreciates Elizabeth’s spunk, haha.

—

Scene 13: Henry and Lucas have a meeting

The writers straight up wanted to negate some of what happened last season, and I think that was a smart choice. There are some lines in this scene that I really enjoy a lot. “I like you, Henry. I don’t know why, but I do.” I think Lucas likes Henry because he’s been mostly up front with Lucas about his methods...which he does here, too.

“I’m willing to get my hands dirty.”

Henry’s proposal is that he will double the crude output in the first year he’s back as Lucas’s partner, and if he doesn’t manage it, he will walk away. However, if he is successful, he becomes majority owner at 60% and is allowed to make all business decisions.

This is a very good opportunity for Lucas, provided he trusts Henry can at least maintain current output. He loses nothing if Henry walks away and he loses hardly anything (in fact, he loses a bit of profit and a LOT of responsibility) if Henry manages it and stays on.

When asked why he had a change of heart, Henry says he “has his reasons.”

—

Scene 14: Joseph comes back to town + Fiona’s

This actually isn’t its own separate scene, but rather, the camera pans from the previous scene to Joseph walking into town.

Joseph stops Hickam about getting some gas, but Hickam is sent away to hold up his end of a bet while Jesse helps Joseph.

The camera then is in Fiona’s barbershop, so I’m counting these two scenes together. Hickam asks for a trim and she agrees to do it. He apologizes for running off earlier and she accepts his apology with grace and says she’s glad he came back. He tells her it was the right thing to do and she calls him out instantly for having accepted a bet from Jesse.

This is a pretty funny little joke, but the best part about it is actually how it ties Hickam and Jesse together. They’re around the same age and they could be friends; I like the implication. Some of the male friendships have suffered a bit in recent years so it’s nice to see those getting a splash of attention.

Anyway, Fiona doesn’t take offense and Hickam seems relieved.

—

Scene 15: Sergeant gets some pats

Sergeant is a good boy and so deserves some pats! The only thing I hate about this scene is the dialogue. Robert is like, a farm boy...and you’re telling me he’s never ridden a real horse? Please. This is in a time period where most of these kids would know how to ride a horse. He’s no larger a horse than any other horse in town! The bigger concern should be that Sergeant is an ex-mounted police horse, which means he needs a more experienced rider (and that certain signals could mean different things to Sergeant than they would mean for a farmhorse).

It’s still pretty cute overall, but I think they could have had the kids currying him or something instead. “We can start by patting him” seems a little silly when this horse has been patted by everyone in town 3 billion times by this point.

The camera then adjusts to the window of the saloon’s upstairs room where Helen is watching Elizabeth spend time with the kids.

She’s more or less smiling and watching Elizabeth and the kids, studying them. As predicted, she has already decided she likes Elizabeth.

—

Scene 16: Hickam narrowly avoids death

Or more like, he moves while Fiona is trying to cut his hair and she gets his ear with the scissors. He literally runs out of the barbershop, past Helen and Lucas who are now out for a walk, and straight to the clinic.

—

Scene 17: Rosemary talks to Elizabeth and the kids

This is a continuation of the last scene where the camera catches Rosemary from outside the clinic (as Hickam goes in) and follows her over to Elizabeth where she says hello (they are still with Sergeant but over by the church now).

I’m a little tired of these Cute Widdle Opal moments. She’s like, nine years old. The fake smiling and “oh my goodness!”ing is too much for me at this point. I probably hated this scene the most.

—

Scene 18: Lucas talks with his mother

Helen calls out the situation exactly for what it is: Elizabeth is the reason Lucas has settled in Hope Valley, and Lucas and Nathan are vying for Elizabeth’s hand. Lucas admits these are both true.

Just a nice little scene. Helen seems pretty normal and good here.

—

Scene 19: Elizabeth talks to Nathan

On her way out of the mercantile (with a cloth to clean Opal’s face) Elizabeth runs into Nathan who is on his way up to Bill’s land to check it out. She says he must be serious if he’s going in the middle of the day out to look at it, and he says he is. “I think it’s time I settle down.”

She walks down a step or two and turns after him as he’s about to go into the mercantile: “Nathan? When you’re back from your trip, perhaps we could get together?”

And he agrees to this, almost in a tone that’s like, he doesn’t want to seem too excited.

As soon as Nathan is in the store, Robert goes flying by on Sergeant with the worst posture I’ve ever seen.

Elizabeth steals Newton from Nathan and goes after Robert, catching up to him and dragging him back to town right in front of Jesse and Joseph.

Joseph is of course iMMEDIATELY like: “I want to live in this crazy place.”

This isn’t how I would write a scene like this, mostly because I would assume that Robert could ride a horse (and his posture later kind of says this...lol) and it’s really hard to film something like this without it Actually Being Dangerous (mostly due to the gravel in town—a horse could kick that into someone’s face and they’d be messed up, or they could slip in it)(also, the filming location doesn’t have a lot of Large Spaces where they can really let a horse gallop safely). I’d probably have a stunt double dashing off at an actual run if possible, and show Elizabeth catching up to Robert who has been thrown from the horse. He’s fine (landed in some prairie grass or something) but then it’s actually really scary.

Her “catching up” and “helping” just doesn’t work very well when it’s very clear these horses are moving at a leisurely pace.

But if you can use your imagination it wasn’t a bad scene.

—

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary

It’s the next morning, and Rosemary helps Lee sit on the couch. Rosemary gives him his coffee but there’s no sugar in it (this is hard to believe; they’ve been married how long? She’s been making this every day for how many years?) and she boogies over to Elizabeth’s.

—

Scene 21: Rosemary and Elizabeth have a chat

Rosemary talks to Elizabeth about the chase after Robert and then to little Jack and there’s a little moment where she looks at Jack and talks about how her and Lee like hearing him laugh when the weather is nice and the windows are open. It was a nice touch.

Rosemary offers to babysit until Laura arrives.

It’s a nice scene but I’m a little tired of the babytalk for a child that is way older than they’re acting. This is a 2-3 year old child, not a baby who can’t talk.

—

Scene 22: Bill meets Joseph Canfield

Joseph came back to town to have another look around and consider buying the gas station. He mentions the church, and Bill says they don’t have a pastor right now because “he left to become a missionary.” I’m not sure which pastor they’re talking about here: Zeke or the guy before him, or even Frank? My guess is Zeke since they took the time to give him a name, and there’s no reason why Frank would do that when he’s been written away as finding his calling in mentoring/pastoring/caring for terminally ill children.

Joseph says he’s looking to settle down and would like it to be Hope Valley, which is....sudden. I’m not sure what the script could have said instead, but maybe if there was some kind of hint that his wife isn’t happy in their current situation? Or maybe that he’s been looking around and that he found Hope Valley when he wasn’t even looking—just doing his job.

It’s a hard sell either way. There’s a whole lot of nothing in this area, so it’s hard to imagine Hope Valley wouldn’t be on the map with a railroad stop...lol...

Joseph says he doesn’t want to build, so Bill says he knows a guy.

Good scene. I’m always happy when Bill gets normal interactions, and it seems like in this scene we’re meant to imagine that he is actually on his rounds (since Nathan is away).

—

Scene 23: Elizabeth and Helen edit...

Helen says “dour” in a way Elizabeth has never heard it said, and it sounds kind of clear that everything Helen says, Elizabeth just blanks out and can’t discuss reasonably.

“I’m just not used to writing this way.” You’re...not writing. You’re editing. There’s a difference. And Helen seems to be trying to get at the Author’s Intentions (“Would you describe this character as dour?”) to ensure that Elizabeth’s writing matches what she’s going for.

They’ve made it past ONE page at this point. They do share a chuckle over how slow their progress is, though, and I mean, as a writer that’s a whole entire mood, so it’s fine.

—

Scene 24: Henry’s cabin

For some reason Henry owns a cabin and Joseph, Bill, and Henry are checking it out. Bill is mostly snooping to find things wrong with it lol, which is very in character for him, considering Henry is (or at least was) the enemy.

Joseph decides to buy the place because it’s not too far from town and there’s room for the kids to play.

Boom he’s in.

Welcome Hope Valley, Joseph!

—

Scene 25: Robert’s Sorry + Helen’s Truth

Robert has atoned for his sins by cleaning all the stalls out or something. Helen and Elizabeth meet Robert on a walk. He’s atoned for his sins by cleaning the stables.

Helen and Elizabeth chat a bit, and Helen drops a bunch of Truth Bombs:

-Authors often feign indifference to the characters they create, or insist they are mere fabrications outside themselves.

-Elizabeth is honest with herself and with others, and honest in her writing.

-Most people are uncomfortable and afraid, and hide behind characters they’ve created for themselves.

She then says that she’s like that (kind of an awkward delivery line) and then instantly launches into saying she came to see Lucas and to see her, too, but if she’s being completely honest, she’s come because her husband has left her.

(Scene break for commercials)

Elizabeth runs after Helen and calls her “Mrs. Bouchard” but quickly corrects herself to call her “Helen” (NOW IT MAKES SENSE WHY HELEN DOESN’T WANT TO BE CALLED MRS. BOUCHARD!) and asks if she wants to talk about it.

“There’s really nothing to say. It’s not going to change anything.”

Lucas’s father is in London, supposedly, and as Lucas walks over to the two of them, Helen asks for Elizabeth to keep this just between them, as he doesn’t know yet.

I’m not sure where they’re going to go with this, or how they’re going to resolve it, but it’s possible this was just a misunderstanding (seems farfetched but hey, it’s Hallmark).

As an aside, the flowers they have out on display are all summer flowers. Does it matter? No. Am I pointing it out? Yes.

Lucas offers to take both women to dinner and Elizabeth says she isn’t able to go. I think she should have stated she had a prior engagement (so she didn’t appear to be rude), but Helen takes him up on the offer.

Walking away, Elizabeth runs into Laura, Emily, Anna, and Timmy, which was nice because all the mentions of Laura without actually seeing Laura made me worry she wasn’t on the show anymore, haha.

Laura isn’t with Jack because Rosemary wanted to watch him for the day. Elizabeth turns around and asks Lucas for his help with something.

—

Scene 26: The Surprise for Rosemary and Lee

Elizabeth comes over to collect Jack with a surprise: a nice dinner all premade, a bottle of wine, and some mood music. ;)

This is a wholesome and sweet scene. Elizabeth leaves with Jack and Lee struggles to his feet to dance with Rosemary.

—

Scene 27: The letter

Henry goes to the mercantile to see if there’s any mail and there IS...the letter he sent out last episode has been returned...opened.

Henry’s upset by this (he seems genuinely hurt) and asks Ned if he opened it. Ned says he didn’t, and Florence defends him by saying he would never do that. Henry leaves and Ned says he forgot to take care of something in the back and wishes Florence good night.

Very suspicious. I don’t think Ned opened the letter but I do think he read it. He looked a little upset himself...? Not sure what’s going on here. Could it involve a relative? Nora? A business proposition?

—

Scene 28: Florence and Molly

At the saloon, Florence and Molly talk about the letter, and Florence says she thinks the person who opened it was the person Henry sent it to.

Molly notices Bill laughing and having a good time with a woman she doesn’t know and stares at them. Florence points it out and says Molly must be bad-tempered because she’s hungry and suggests they order and eat. Molly gets up and marches right on over there and embarrasses Florence with her BS.

She mentions the chili in the cafe and then fakely says, “Oh nooo, I’m being rude,” and introduces herself to Helen.

Helen doesn’t shake her offered hand but does give her name. She’s extremely awkward and leaves in a hurry, with Florence on her heels.

Helen tells Bill he must have a “fan.”

Bill says he wasn’t aware of that.

The classic Bill Squint™.

—

Scene 29: Mike returns

Mike comes back to have his haircut finished. She says she’ll be more careful this time; he admits it’s his fault...and they both agree that they’re both to blame a little bit.

Clara and Faith drag their men in and insist on them getting haircuts/trims. I liked the scene with Fiona and Mike, but didn’t really care for the last bit as much. Mostly because everyone hates the idea of her cutting their hair and this is supposed to be funny, even to her? Like...I don’t know. It just falls flat for me.

—

Scene 30: Rosemary is a bad influence

Rosemary asks Elizabeth how the meeting went. They talk about the fact that Lucas and his mother are nothing alike and Rosemary says, “Well maybe he’s like his father.”

Elizabeth is like “Let’s hope not.”

And of course that gets the ball rolling. Before long, the truth is out: Helen’s husband left her.

Elizabeth really should have...shut her mouth lol. But at least Rosemary believes that’s a bad position for Elizabeth to be in.

Lee comes in with Jack wearing a little outfit...

And then the truth comes out that what’s in the crate is a LOT of coffee. 250lbs of it.

—

Scene 31: Bill and Molly Talk...sort-of.

Bill chases Molly out of the cafe and insists they talk about what happened the night before, and Molly says she made a fool of herself. Bill tries to figure things out by saying he’s been a bachelor for a long time (probably trying to ease into it by admitting he just hadn’t realized she was Interested because he’s not used to the whole thing, to take some pressure off you know?) and Molly stops him like, “Are you under the impression that I’m interested in you as a suitor?”

Bill is more or less like, well...yes (but I wasn’t alone in that thought).

Molly tells him she was curious about the woman with whom he was dining. “True, I have mentioned to Florence that it might be nice getting to know each other seeing as how we’ve lived in the same town for years...”

Bill: “Well, see? You are interested in me.”

Molly: “You flatter yourself.”

She then leaves.

Anyone who knows me will know why I don’t like this scene lol, but at least neither character is being made a fool of, here. Pretty sure Molly is both curious and jealous.

—

Scene 32: Henry’s tirade

I think they should have rerecorded this scene because it 100% sounds like Henry is drunk off his ass and not just angry. More punctuated words would have fixed this easily.

Anyway, Carson comes by the mercantile just in time to see Henry yelling at Ned and Florence about the letter (but specifically Ned). Henry sees Carson come in and leaves, but falls outside. His blood pressure is ridiculously high. Outside, the acting is fine and he sounds angry (but deflating).

“Sometimes what you do in between [birth and death] just isn’t enough.”

This makes me really curious about that leTTER... It almost has to be a personal matter: family, perhaps?

—

Scene 33: The Confession

Elizabeth runs into Nathan while she’s out with Sergeant and they talk about Bill’s land. Nathan’s very enthusiastic about the land and the idea of living there.

LOOK AT HIM.

This is probably the most animated we’ve seen him!

(I think this talk of land and building on it might be forcing her to think of Jack, by the way. They already have the profession in common and now the land/planning for the future thing, too? A future she never got to have with Jack? OOF.)

I think at this point she’s worried that he wants to do this FOR HER and the guilt is what prompts her to speak. She goes on to tell him that he means a lot to her, and so does Allie, but she thinks he’s looking for more than friendship.

He says he wasn’t trying to hide that, and she thanks him for his honesty. She goes to express that he wants more from her than she can give. He was shot that one time when she thought it had been him who died, and she can’t go through that for real, not again. She doesn’t want to lose him the way she lost Jack.

He says he wouldn’t let that happen and she gets (RIGHTFULLY!) upset because that isn’t something he can meaningfully promise, and it’s pretty insulting considering the way Jack died; he isn’t better than Jack, after all. Anything could happen.

So Nathan says that his solution, what makes his promise different, is that he would quit the Mounties.

And she says, “No!”

Then we get the lines:

Nathan: I know you feel the same way that I do.

Elizabeth: I can’t.

Nathan: Elizabeth, I’m in love with you!

Elizabeth leaves hurriedly on Sergeant and that’s the end of the episode.

—

I don’t want to end this without talking about the last scene a bit. I think some people might be a bit confused about it. I think she has feelings for Nathan and has been repressing them because it’s too scary a thing to consider. She wants to let the idea go but knew she couldn’t just cut things off without saying anything.

But how do you say something like that kindly? How do you do that without hurting feelings or looking stupid?

I feel like the talk about the land, as well as Nathan’s comment earlier in the episode about settling down, has forced Elizabeth to be honest with Nathan the way that she is honest in her writing, and she does this specifically because she doesn’t want Nathan to go making decisions based on feelings for, or a potential future with, her. It isn’t fair to Nathan or Allie.

For those of us who haven’t lost a spouse traumatically, I don’t think it’s easy to understand this specific brand of anxiety/fear, but this episode made it really clear that this is something she’s really struggling with. The heart wants what it wants, but it also feels fear sometimes (and in this case, rightfully so).

Nathan offering to quit was wonderful but I think it would frighten Elizabeth just as much to feel she’s the cause for someone giving up something they’re passionate about. I personally think she’s thinking too much of Jack when it comes to that. Sure, Nathan’s a Mountie, and sure, he likes his job and is good at it like Jack was, but I think for Nathan family and safety would always come first.

It didn’t come first for Bill. It didn’t come first for Jack. But it would for Nathan. I don’t think Elizabeth realizes this—that for Nathan this isn’t him giving up his passion for love (or to settle down). It’s settling down because he wants to make a life here for himself and doesn’t want to ever have to leave, a choice he won’t get if he stays with the Mounties

For Jack, the Mounties were a Calling, a lifelong passion.

For Nathan, they were a career he enjoyed.

I’m interested to see when this will be revealed in the story and how that will make Elizabeth feel. No matter what, it’s scary to be the person ‘forcing’ someone else to give up something big, in this case Nathan’s livelihood (in exchange for her peace of mind). I have some personal experience with this. In fact, when I was dating my (now-)husband for the first time, he wanted to move to be with me. We were young. He had a college picked out. He had a career path. I had a job doing physical labor and I was living at home. If he needed help, my family would be too poor to assist and we had no extra space for him to stay. I refused. We actually broke up over it. There’s just so much pressure on the person who isn’t giving something up: fear of feeling indebted to someone, fear of the relationship HAVING to work out (or it was a waste of everyone’s time and money)...

Anyway, this storyline could mean a lot to me if it’s done right, so...I hope it is. :)

—

Overall this was another enjoyable episode. I was shocked at the intensity of the ending, and pleasantly surprised by most of the rest of it. Fiona’s actually growing on me as a character (she’s made of sterner stuff than some of them). I’m definitely looking forward to next week and I hope you are too!

My only real criticism so far, other than the ones outlined above, is the sheer number of scenes. I think it might be...a bit much. Almost...scattered? But we’ll see how they do in future episodes.

Feel free to message me with any thoughts/opinions/et cetera. ♥

#when calls the heart #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information #long post

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 years

Text

Amnesia (3/5)

Summary: He never thought he would ever see her again. Being divorced for 20 years, he hadn’t heard a thing from her after their last court date. When he got the call from a hospital in New York, telling him his ex-wife had been in an accident and only remembered being married to someone named Jordani, he couldn’t help but went back to see her. Even if that meant to relive the worst days of his life.

Paring: John Wick / OFC

A/N: Okay. I wanted to add another chapter to this, but as I wrote it, it felt like it wouldn’t fit in here. Maybe I’ll post this some time after I finish this. Thank you all for reading and comenting. I never thought this little story would be liked so much.

Masterlist

It was a week later when they finally settled into things. John brought Elle to therapy every two days and Doctor Miller gave his okay to continue telling Elle bits and pieces. Starting with technology of the 21st century. Today John would tell her everything about the internet. Elle still couldn’t remember anything. That was until today.

“So, the internet.” She smirked, as she sat at the kitchen counter, watching John cook.

“Okay. Where to start. The internet is the source of all evil as it is now everywhere. You can access the internet from your phone.”

“From my phone?” Elle looked at him, like he was insane. John handed her his IPhone.

“That’s a phone? It looks like a mini TV?” She sceptically took the phone in her hands. As she picked it up, the screen showed a picture of John and Helen.

“I’m sure you somewhere got your own phone.” John looked up, and saw Elle looking down at the picture on his phone.

“I can’t even begin to understand, how weird this must be for you.” He said.

“It’s a little easier, because you don’t look the same, but still. Yes it’s weird. Seeing you so happy on all these pictures, makes me regret we didn’t take more when...”

“When we were married.” He finished, She nodded.

John continued to cut the vegetables into pieces, before he put them in a pan.

“Since when can you cook?” Elle asked him.

“I picked some stuff up, when we separated. Still never got close to your skills.”

“Well it smells delicious.”

“Let’s hope it tastes like something.” He winked.

“You tell me, that Donald Trump is the President of the United States?” Elle asked as they watched the news. John had taken the last 3 hours to tell her everything he thought of she had to know.

“For at least another year.”

“Maybe the taxi should have hit me harder.” She groaned.

“Don’t joke about that.” John said.

“Sorry.” She whispered looking at him. They sat on opposite ends of Johns couch, Dog between them.

There was a commercial about Greece on the TV, when Elle said.

“I loved it in Santorini. I remember sitting on the beach by myself for hours until I had to get back to the hotel. Best vacation I ever had.”

She probably didn’t even think about what she said. John looked at her. She was still looking at the TV.

“When was that?” He asked.

“Uhm… Marc and I had broken up earlier that year, so 2014?” She looked from the TV to John, who looked surprised at her.

“What?” She asked.

“You remembered.” John said. Elle gasped. She remembered.

“Oh my god. I do. I remember. I even remember the delayed flight on my way back. I remember the food. I remember…” She remembered Marc. Tears sprung to her eyes. She could feel her heart breaking all over again. Hugging herself tightly she tried to control her breathing. It felt like the months after they separated came back to her in one tiny moment, when she remembered Marc. His face. His laugh. His love. His betrayal. Him fucking her best friend. After 7 years together.

“Shhh.” Elle felt John’s arms around her, him sitting down beside her, almost pulling her onto his lap. Soothing he rubbed her back, until she calmed a little.

John had no idea what she remembered. He selfishly hoped it wasn’t what he thought. He enjoyed their time together to much.

“It hurts. It feels like they cheated me all over again.” Elle whispered, Tears still running down her face.

“Who did?” John asked softly, stroking her hair.

“Marc. I’ve been together with him for 7 years, before I found out he had been sleeping with my best friend.” She tried to focus on John’s heartbeat to stay calm.

“I’m so sorry Elle.” John whispered, trying to hold in the tears that formed in his eyes as well.

“If this hurts so much, I don’t want to know what happened between us. I never loved Marc as much as I do love you.” Elle murmured into his shirt.

“I’m so, so sorry, Elle.” John held her tighter, letting his tears flow.

John woke up to the smell of pancakes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had pancakes.

Slowly he made his way down the stairs to find Elle cooking in his kitchen. The picture in front of him felt so right, that he had to take a deep breath before he sat down at the counter.

“Good morning.” He said, grabbing the mug of coffee Elle handed him.

“Good morning. I made pancakes.” She smiled.

“I can see that.” He smirked.

“Chocolate chip with peanut butter and bananas? Still your favourite?” She asked, taking a bite of the bacon, leaning with her hip at the counter, waiting for the pancakes to finish. This whole situation felt like he had jumped back in time. They used to spend their weekends exactly like that.

“Where on earth did you find chocolate chips in this kitchen?” He asked.

“In the cabinets? You actually have quite the collection of baking stuff.”

“Helen used to bake. Well she tried. I guess we never got rid of it.” He leaned back in his chair, drinking his coffee.

“How did you two meet?” Elle asked. John smiled at that question.

“I went to one of her exhibitions. She was a very talented photographer. She asked me, what I thought of this picture, because I was standing in front of it for a while and I told her, that I had been trying to find someone who worked there, so I could buy it. It’s the big photograph of the bridge in the hallway. I asked her out for dinner and we got married 6 months later.”

Elle packed the pancakes for John on a plate, and put the peanut butter on it.

“She sounds like an incredible person.”

“She was.” John smiled.

“You’re allowed to grieve, John. I know you think you need to take care of me, but as soon as I get the okay, I’m going to move back to my place. Well, if I remember where it is. What I’m trying to say is, please take care of yourself. You look like you could need a week of sleep.” She put the plate with the pancakes in front of him, sitting down next to him.

“Thank you, Elisabeth.” He said honestly.

“You’re very welcome Jardani.” She winked, before they ate their breakfast in silence.

They spent the rest of the day mostly outside, walking with dog. John showed Elle the whole property and he had to promise to play tennis with her at some point.

“How come you got this house?” Elle asked, as they were walking by the lake.

“I wanted to get out of New York. If I have to work, I can stay there, but I wanted to be able to not see someone for days, if I wanted too, and still get outside. I guess I got old.” He laughed, throwing a stick for dog.

“I envy that. All I could manage is moving from Queens to Brooklyn. It was always a dream to move out of New York.”

“Do you remember your apartment?” John asked her.

“I do remember bits and pieces.”

“Do you remember anything more than what you did yesterday?” John threw the stick again.

“I dreamed something. But I’m not quite sure what to think of it.”

“What was it?”

“It was you. And Marcus.” She began. John sighed.

“You two were arguing in our living room in Queens. But I couldn’t hear what about. But I feel like this was the last time I saw him. I don’t know why.”

“It was the last time you saw him.” John told her.

“So it was a memory?”

“Yes. Yes it was.”

“What were you talking about?” She asked.

“I wanted to quit my job, but Marcus had already confirmed with our contractor.”

“Your job….” She said. “John I dreamed something else, but I thought it was only a dream.”

“What did you dream about?”

“We were out for dinner and there was this guy. He was speaking Russian and you told me to take cover and then there were gunshots.”

John remembered that night. It was a week after the day she lost her memories. It was the night he told her, what exactly he was doing for a living.

“After that we were in our living room and we were talking, but I woke up, before the conversation finished.” Elle looked at him. John had become quiet.

“I told you that night that I work for the high table.” John said after a while. Elle tried to think. Something about that sounded familiar.

“You told me, that you got in there because of Marcus, right?” She asked. John nodded.

“He got me in there and I’m still not sure if I should be thankful for that.”

“So you’re still doing it?” She asked, stopping in her tracks. I can take better care of us if I do that. The words sounded in her head. I don’t want you to kill people, just so we can have a better life. Her voice.

“Jar’ you can’t keep doing this. I wanted us to have a normal life. How do you even get in something like that?” Elle asked, standing in the window overlooking the busy street underneath their apartment in Queens.

“Marcus told me it was good money. And it is. But I want out. I told him that today. I want out of the High Table. I just have to finish this one thing, and then I’ll be out.”

He stood next to her, taking her hands into his. She looked at him. How could this sweet man be a killer?

“Promise me.” She demanded, looking at him. She loved him so much. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

“I promise.”

“John, are you still killing people?”

Taglist

@coolbreezeinkeanureeves

#ff #fanfic #fanfiction #john wick #john wick x ofc #keanu reeves

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afraschatz · 5 years

Text

The Children of Atreus

Let's talk a bit about the coolest of the mythological Greeks, the children of Atreus - Agamemnon, Menelaus, and Anaxabia. And let me just name three things about them that are guaranteed to make you fall in love with them.

Before that, here is a quick summary of the things that everyone already knows anyway: Menelaus is the famous king of Sparta whose wife Helen’s disappearance sparked the Trojan War. The Greeks’ troops are led by his brother, Agamemnon, king of mighty Mycenae (who, when returning from the war, gets murdered by his wife Clytemnestra). Anaxabia is their sister, and she is married to Strophius, king of Phocis.

Secondly, here are three of the (many) reasons why they are The Best:

1 - They are the best of siblings.

Obviously, they are called the Atrides (or Atreides) after their father, Atreus, who is the son of Pelops and grandson of Tantalus. That makes them part of the forever cursed family of the Tantalides. That curse manifests itself in their father’s relationship with his brother, Thyest. Atreus and Thyest come to Mycenae after they get thrown out of Elis, the territory around Olympia, for murdering their half-brother. They then quickly gain power and influence in Mycenae and use the majority of it to stab each other in the back - repeatedly and quite literally, as they both end up dead.

With role models such as these (plus the curse that Tantalus brought on his family for murdering and cooking his own son just to prove a point), it is absolutely amazing and quite heart-warming how close the Atrides are. Despite their family history of betrayal and murder, they always, ALWAYS stand by one another and support each other.

I mean, Agamemnon starts a war to end all wars to get justice for his brother, for fuck’s sake (yeah, yeah, there’s that bit about the oath of Helen; I’ll get to that later), and for that ten-year-long war they are practically joined at the hip.

And it’s not just a matter of obvious power-politics either: Agamemnon sends his son Orestes to his sister and brother-in-law in Phocis when he has to leave for war. To entrust his only male heir to them is massive proof of his trust in them, in her. Anaxabia and Strophius continue to raise Orestes as their own, and Orestes becomes best friends (and quite definitely lovers, according to my man Euripides) with their son, Pylades who supports him through thick and thin.

Pylades ends up marrying Electra, Agamemnon’s daughter, while Orestes gets wed to Hermione, Menelaus’s kid with Helen. While for today’s standards this might be a bit too incestuous for comfort, it is further proof how tightly knit that family now (in contrast to previous generations and their fondness for throwing people down wells / dismemberment) is because of the bond of the three siblings.

2 - They are strategic and diplomatic masterminds.

Agamemnon and Menelaus are often reduced to being one entitled and power-hungry dick and his arrogant but ultimately impotent little brother. While that makes them the perfect cardboard-cut-villain for everyone in need of one (such as grieving Achilles, for one) and while I enjoy Brian Cox and Brendan Gleeson as “Troy”’s villains as well as Sophocles's characterization of them in "Aias" as much as the next guy, it really doesn’t do them justice.

First of all, as for the notion that they are entitled and/or feeble: Both of them are self-made men. Not only are they (as well as Anaxabia) kids of a refugee / man living in exile, after their uncle Thyest overthrows their father and has him murdered, they have to flee from Mycenae and seek refuge in Sparta, with king Tyndareos, their future father-in-law, (step) father of Clytemnestra and Helen. From there, they not only manage to mobilize enough man power to overthrow Thyest and conquer Mycenae. They also turn Mycenae into the most influential and mightiest of all the Greeks’ kingdoms. And by proving himself over and over again, Menelaus inherits the right to the throne of Sparta from his father-in-law, while Anaxabia marries the king of Phocis, a kingdom North of the gulf of Corinth with influential Delphi right in the center.

The Atrides’s influence is not just gained by clever marriage and perseverance, however. Sure, the famous oath of Helen (in which all the kings that asked for Helen’s hand in marriage swore to protect her and her husband-to-be) is thought up by wily Odysseus. But who makes sure (for all those years before Paris) that it would be upheld? It’s not like alliances between Greek kingdoms are all that stable. And yet, the council of kings - including extremely strong-willed characters such as Achilles, Aias, and Odysseus - WORKS and works well for ten years, even under the pressure of a prolonged war. Why? It’s because Agamemnon knows how to choose advisers (such as wise Nestor), knows how to utilize the human equivalent of an eel (I am looking at you, Odysseus) etc. He is a fucking brilliant politician. (And it was his RIGHT (AND a necessity) to demand Briseis from Achilles, however much the Myrmidon may moan about it; but more about that later).

Simple proof in numbers: Three exiled kids with NOTHING; fast-forward a decade or two and you have this: Agamemnon commands the largest of the Greek fleets (100 ships). If you add to those the number of Spartan (60) and Phocian (40) ships as well, that’s a whooping 200, even if you disregard for instance the huge Cretan fleet (80) which is led by their uncle, Idomeneus. Brilliant strategists and politicians.

3 - They are so highkey EXTRA when it comes to the love department. (Well, the brothers are. Anaxabia rolls her eyes at them.)

Before I talk about the brothers and their highkey Extra relationships to their wives, let me just again go back to Anaxabia. Her marriage to Strophius is delightfully stable and uneventful and no one ends up dead (which is quite rare in Greek mythology, really). It produces delightfully stable and unproblematic children, such as the original bestest of mates, Pylades. Just think of Anaxabia and her husband just looking at each other silently at a family dinner,when her dramatic brothers and their dramatic wives start throwing food (and possibly knives) across the table. Next year, we’re doing a couple’s retreat in Delphi, my dear. I love her.

But the brothers’ marriages are equally fascinating.

Paris kidnaps Helen while Menelaus is attending his grandfather Catreus’s funeral btw - dick move, prince of Troy -, and for some reason THEIR relationship is the stuff of legends? Well, fuck that. While I have all the love in the world for one (1) flamboyant and canonically cowardly favourite of Aphrodite, let’s not forget how superglue-strong Menelaus’s bond with Helen is.

First of all, out of all the suitors for her hand in marriage, she chooses HIM without hesitation - after they must’ve known each other for years, btw considering Menelaus’s time in exile in Sparta.

And when she is suddenly gone, he mobilizes literally every available man in Greece to get her back.

That’s a matter of pride, you say? That’s because - much like Agamemnon when he demands Achilles’s prize of war, Briseis, because he had to give his own, Chryseis, back to appease Apollo - he would lose face and power (and thus massively endangering the stability of his reign and consequently the safety of his country, btw)? Sure, it’s that as well.

But.

It’s not like other kings haven’t “misplaced” a wife before. It’s not like he couldn’t simply have claimed she died. He could have. And you know what? It would have saved him from being both the laughing stock of all of Greece (“Here comes Menelaus who couldn’t hold on to his wife”) and also everyone’s favourite villain for having to go to war for him.

And later, what does he do when he finds her again - either in the ruins of Troy or in far away Egypt? Does he kill her? Does he demand a divorce?

No. They sail back to Sparta together and - and this is the kicker - rule together for many years, quite happily reunited.

He fucking loves her, and she loves him. (Okay, she might ALSO love Paris and that whole war could’ve been avoided if they just got into a poly relationship. I wouldn’t have been opposed to that either.)

The same goes for Agamemnon and his family.

Iphigenia, you yell at me in outrage? Well, the unquestioned villain in THAT story is so clearly vengeful Artemis for demanding her life in the first place. And yes, you may fight me on this.

And okay, I am having a slightly harder time explaining away Agamemnon murdering Clytemnestra’s first husband as a romantic gesture, fine. But my point is, Agamemnon’s and Clytemnestra’s relationship status throughout is clearly “it’s complicated”, it’s ENDLESSLY fascinating. Plus, Clytemnestra is such a fierce and badass (Spartan) woman who without problem competently takes care of Mycenae during the war. They are SO well suited for one another, and their relationship is brilliant, from a storytelling point of view.

So, in conclusion: Give me Rufus Sewell as Agamemnon, Dominic West as Menelaus, and Oona Chaplin as Anaxabia, and I’d watch the hell out of twenty plus seasons about the Atrides and how they feel rightfully superior to all those other Peloponnesian peasants .

The Atrides are the best. It’s just a fact.

#mythology #greek mythology #mycenae #agammnon #menelaus #anaxabia #Trojan war #iliad #atreus #aerope #thyest #strophius

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xwherethelittlethingsarex · 5 years

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have u ever been heart broken?

Yes, I have been heart broken. Honestly, I think it is something we all have been through. We all know what it is like to be broken and we all have broken another without the intention of doing.

Emotions are what make us human. We all have to go through the bad ones just as well as the good. I wrote something a year ago about a universal kind of language that we all share. In the end we all laugh and we all cry in the same language. It’s like music when we hear it and feelings when we feel it. We are different but in more ways we are the same. The Joys of life, the freedom of choice, the sadness we feel when we lose people that are close to us. The way we can all relate to the feeling of pain and struggle. The way our eyes light up when we talk about something that we are truly passionate about. This is not where we differ, but where we are the same on this journey of life. Of all our differences, we as human beings we all share something that is universal, this is something that makes us the same.

It’s like that quote by Helen Keller when she reminded us all: “Love is the language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see. That’s how universal it is.”

Looking at the list of emotions it is troubling to me to see that the majority of them are negative and only a few are listed as positive.

But Love, above all is still the most powerful emotion that exists in this world. It has the ability to defeat all of the negative emotions that we have inside us if used with respect and good intentions. It has the ability to heal, to guide and to protect.

When I truly love someone, I just want the best for them even if that person can't be with me. I want them to be happy always. Unfortunately I feel that most people become fixated on finding the right person they forget about being the right person for the person they are with.

It’s not always about the physical part of love, it is about loving someone with your heart. Loving someone enough to let them go, loving someone enough through their hard days, their down days. Remember, physical love is the easy part, it’s loving someone with your heart that’s the hard part, it’s loving someone at their highs and their lows.

I have seen highs and lows. And I know who counts and who doesn’t. I need to pay attention to who is really there for me. That person who has seen my every mood both good and bad and still wants to wake up next to me; they still value me. They still try to add happiness in my life, not take it away.

Looking back I always wondered if I really truly wasted time on situations that shouldn’t have mattered so much or on people that I didn’t really matter all that much to. I know I have but it was a learning experience and I have moved on. And in order to know that we were wasting time is through our experiences. Now I am not saying that those people had a right to treat you like you don’t matter and they certainly don’t have a right to feel like they were a lesson that you needed to learn. Most people who come into your life don’t purposely want to hurt you or let you down, it just happens. In the end they wouldn’t feel honored for “teaching you how to let go.” They would most likely have wished things would have ended differently and not end up a part of your past. But everything happens for reason, and I have learned to trust again and to love again and I have walked away from those who have offered nothing solid or positive in the forms of love and a friendship.Every lesson that was meant to teach me something has taught me a lot - and I have taken that lesson with me on my journey. The truth is we all know how to “let go” but somehow along the way we just end up trusting the wrong people or expect too much from a friend who was only willing to give so little. In the end the most beautiful lessons are not ones taught to us by our family or even at school. It is through life, trial and error, and heartbreak and pain. But those who feel they deserve an reward of teaching you lessons of letting go have the most important lesson to learn for themselves, the lesson of being a decent friend. Until they learn how to appreciate people, respect them and treat others how they want to be treated in return - it will always become the lesson they fail at by default. Remember, your life time is limited. And it is important to spend it with people that value you, appreciate you and do for you as they expect to be done for them. Love yourself just as you are. Always treat people fairly and with kindness and compassion. When it comes to letting go or moving on from a partner, don’t forget what it was like to be with a broken heart, (so do your best to be fair, to be kind and most importantly empathetic to everyone around you and to the people you love the most and who love you equally in return.)

One of my favorite books is Perks of Being A Wallflower and one of my favorite quotes from the book and scene in the movie is the conversation Charlie had with Sam about love and the type of love we accept in different times in our lives. Sam stated to Charlie in his room, “Why do I and everyone I love... pick people who treat us like we're nothing?" And Charlie then said to Sam, "We accept the love we think we deserve." I thought Emma Watson was amazing as Sam and that whole scene really dug deep in me. The truth is I related more to Charlie then anyone in the book and the way he just wanted to be heard and noticed, but when it came down to expressing himself he could never say what he wanted to say. And he was always afraid of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. Like me Charlie could only express himself with writing which is why he started writing the “Dear friend," letters even though he felt no one would ever read them. He wanted to be honest with himself. He wanted to express himself. He didn't want to suffer in silence anymore. He wanted people to notice him. He wanted people to like him for who he truly was not who they wanted him to be. He wanted people to hear what he had to say and he wanted them to value his opinion. This is something we all want. This is something we all can relate to. The truth is letting go doesn’t mean we don’t care. Letting go doesn’t mean we shut down. Letting go means we stop trying to force outcomes and make people behave. It means we give up resistance to the way things are, for the moment. It means we stop trying to do the impossible–controlling that which we cannot–and instead, focus on what is possible–which usually means taking care of ourselves. And we do this in gentleness, kindness, and love, as much as possible. “Accept yourself. Love yourself just as you are. Your finest work, your best movements, your joy, peace, and healing comes when you love yourself. You give a great gift to the world when you do that. You give others permission to do the same: to love themselves. Revel in self-love. Roll in it. Bask in it, as you would the sunshine.” - Melody Beattie Remember, there is nothing more beautiful and powerful than a smile that has struggled through the tears. Don’t regret your time, even the moments that were filled with hurt. Smile because you learned from it and gained the strength to rise above it. In the end, it’s not what you have been through that defines who you are; it’s how you got through it that has made you the person you are today, and the person are capable of being tomorrow. I'm sorry if you suffered through a broken heart or if you are suffering at this very moment. You will get through it. You will learn to love again. Stay strong. <3

Love, Joanna Stratford

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cristinablackthornkingson · 5 years

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Shadowhunters Short Story #34.

It was a warm summer’s day in the middle of July 2012, and one of the happiest times of Tessa Carstairs life. Three months ago, she had given birth to her and Jem’s first child, a beautiful little girl who they named Sophie Charlotte, after one of their dearest and closest friends and the woman who had been like a mother to them. Jem was besotted with their daughter, he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone before, and would do anything to keep her safe and happy. Being a father was a joy for him, he didn’t mind the nappy changes, the sleepless nights, the spit-up stains on his clothes, non of it, he was just so happy to have a baby, granted he was absolutely exhausted but he didn’t mind, whenever he felt himself growing frustrated with his lack of sleep or lack of clean clothes, all he had to do was look at his daughter and instantly the frustration fell away and was replaced with love and joy.

About half an hour ago, Tessa had left Jem and Sophie in the music room, while she went upstairs to sort out and put away her maternity clothes and clothes that Sophie had grown out of, for the next time, for there would be a next time, she and Jem had already discussed it and agreed that they wanted more children, for now of course they were perfectly happy with just Sophie, but in a few years time it would be lovely to give her a little brother or sister.

Now, she has finished sorting through hers and Sophie’s clothes that they did not need anymore, and was going to find her husband and daughter, deciding to first check the music room, where she had left them.

As she approaches the door to the music room, Tessa hears faint music coming through the door, classical music, one of Jem’s favorite albums that he always had on in the background.

Quietly opening the door, Tessa is greeted by the sight of her husband waltzing around the music room, with Sophie in the circle of his arms, humming along to the music, while Sophie smiled her wide, toothless smile at her father and let out a few giggles of delight. It was on the most beautiful things Tessa had ever seen, something she had dreamed of for so long.

As she stands watching her husband and daughter, Tessa feels a vibrating in her pocket, her phone ringing. She pulls it out and sees Catarina’s number displayed on the screen. Turning and making her way back into the hall, Tessa swipes across the screen to answer the phone.

“Hi Cat, haven’t heard from you in a while!” Tessa answers in a cheery tone.

“Yeah sorry about that, work has been really busy lately, how’s the little one?” Catarina asks. Tessa smiles broadly at the mention of her daughter.

“Perfect as always.” She replies, glancing over her shoulder into the music room, where Jem was now bouncing Sophie in his arms.

“Listen, I have today off and I was just talking to Ragnor and he wants to meet the little one, would it be alright if we called around in say an hour?” Catarina asks. Both Catarina and Magnus had met Sophie shortly after she was born, but at the time of her birth, Ragnor had been quiet busy and wasn’t in the country and had only returned a few days ago, so he had not yet had the chance to meet Sophie.

“That would be lovely!” Tessa says in an enthusiastic tone. When James and Lucie were growing up, Tessa had not been so close with Ragnor and Catarina, or even Magnus,( though they were still friends, they grew close when she and Magnus lived together in Paris) so her children did not really know them, now she wanted Sophie to grow up with her mother’s friends in her life, people who love her and care about her. Like her siblings, Sophie was part Warlock part Shadowhunter, Tessa and Jem agreed that she should grow up surrounded by everyone who loved her, from her Uncle Magnus and Uncle Alec to her cousins Mark and Helen in LA. Their daughter would grow up within the new Clave, the better, stronger one, with a kind, caring, responsible Consul, who hated no one simply for who they were and would not try and make Sophie feel odd or different for having powers, Alec would tell her to cherish her powers, to embrace her heritage, he would never let her be expelled from school because of who she is, or anything her siblings had to go through, Sophie would have a much easier life.

“Great, see you then!” Catarina says, before ending the call.

Just as Tessa is about to slip her phone back into her pocket, her phone starts buzzing again, and this time Magnus’ number flashes up on screen.

“Hello you!” Tessa answers enthusiastically.

“My, you’re in a good mood.” Magnus lightly says.

“How could I not be? I have my fabulous, wonderful husband, Kit is settling in here so well and I have a beautiful new baby, what’s not to be in a good mood about?” Tessa says in a joyful tone.

“Good point, dear. So Tessa, darling, Alec has taken the boys to The Institute for the evening so I can get some work done but I simply cannot concentrate right now, I’ve given up for the time being, but I thought I might as well take advantage of my rare free time and come visit you and the little one? Would that be alright?” Magnus asks. He could easily go meet Alec and their boys at The Institute but he so rarely got time to himself to go see his friends, and he simply couldn’t stop thinking about sweet little Sophie Carstairs, she was giving him serious baby fever and he simple had to see her or he was afraid he would adopt every child in need of a family, everywhere.

“Of course, that sounds lovely, Catarina and Ragnor are coming around in about an hour so maybe you could come then, if that suits you?” Tessa asks, delighted at the idea of being with all her friends and her beautiful daughter.

“Ah it will be just like old times, I always thought it would be fun to add a baby to our little gang!” Magnus says in a joking tone.

Tessa laughs and says

“See you in about an hour, then?”

“That you will!” Magnus replies.

Once she has hung up, Tessa returns to the music room, where Jem has turned the music down and is now sitting at the piano with Sophie in his lap, letting her smash her little hands against the keyboard.

“That sounds excellent Sophie! Uncle Will would be so proud, and daddy is very proud!” Jem exclaims, turning his daughter around so she is facing him, and blowing a raspberry on her cheek, causing her to giggle loudly. “Yes, yes I am! Daddy is so proud of his little musician!” Jem coos, peppering Sophie’s face with kisses.

“Mummy is very proud too.” Tessa softly says, slipping onto the stool beside Jem and leaning against him. “We have a talented little girl on our hands, I saw you two waltzing earlier.” Tessa lightly adds, smiling up at Jem.

“Honestly I thought if I sat still for one more moment I would fall asleep!” Jem says, smiling brightly at Tessa.

“Magnus, Catarina and Ragnor are coming over soon to see Sophie, we should probably get her dressed.” Tessa lightly says, her eyes running over Sophie’s pink baby grow, which by now was destroyed with spit up.

“Yes I suppose you’re right, I know I should have gotten her dressed earlier but I was afraid she would just spit up all over her clean outfit and I’d have to change her again.” Jem says.

“She probably still will, but there’s not much we can do about it.” Tessa says, taking Sophie’s little hand in hers.

“True, I’ll go get her dressed, do you want to feed her after that?” Jem asks. At 3 months old Sophie was just settling into a routine, she slept pretty much through the night, waking once or twice for a feed, she woke around 7:00 a.m. and then had a nap around 10:00 a.m. until about 12:00 p.m. and another around 3:00 p.m. till 5:00 p.m. and then she was down for the night around 8:00 p.m. She was feeding every 5-6 hours and had no problems nursing, which Tessa was extremely thankful for.

“Yeah, she is due a feed soon, if I feed her now before everyone comes over she’ll probably be in a good mood while they’re here, then I can feed her again when they leave.” Tessa says.

________________________________________________________________

*1 hour later*

As Tessa sits in bed, winding Sophie, with Jem beside her, she is pulled from her sleepy state by a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it, you finish winding her.” Jem softly says.

“No, no don’t leave, I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep while I’m holding her, I can finish winding her downstairs.” Tessa says, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Ten minutes later, everyone is settled in the living room, Sophie is dressed, fed and winded and in a very good mood. Currently, Catarina was holding her, she was the first out of the three to hold her, since she was the most experienced. She was extremely sweet and gentle with Sophie and clearly adored her, and Sophie was fascinated by her bright white hair and blue skin, every time she looked at Catarina her eyes went wide.

“I can’t believe how much she looks like you Jem, it’s quiet unnerving!” Catarina says in amused tone, looking from Jem to Sophie. Little Sophie had thick black hair, big brown eyes, Jem’s bone structure, mouth shape and pallor, all she got from her mother was her eye shape and nose shape. Tessa was thrilled that Sophie looked so much like her father, and Jem was too, but he had also really wanted her to look like Tessa.

“It’s so unbelievably fair, isn’t it? I literally grew her inside of me and she still comes out looking like her dad, when I did all the hard work!” Tessa jokingly says.

“It’s typical, Ephraim looked much more like Tobais than he did Eva, and your James looked just like Will, didn’t he?” Catarina asks.

“Yes he did, they could have been twins, Lucie looked a bit more like me, but she still mostly resembled Will.” Tessa lightly says, everyone had always said Lucie looked just like her mother, and though she did have more of her features than Jamie did, Tessa still saw more of Will in her, and she certainly saw a lot of Jack in Kit, and not so much Rosemary.

“Well lets hope she doesn’t grow up to be as influential as her older brother.” Ragnor says in an amused tone, remembering the outrageous things he had been able to coerce James Herondale into doing, particularly the time he bet him he couldn’t shoot out the lights in a gambling hall, that was a fun night.

At the mention of this, Jem’s eyes grow wide with concern.

“Ragnor, please don’t rope my daughter into outrageous behavior when she’s older.” He says. Ragnor laughs and says

“Relax James, I would never! I promise to be nothing but a caring, loving and responsible guide to little Sophie!” Ragnor declares. Magnus snorts and says

“You are the least responsible person in the world Ragnor, last time you babysat for Alec and I you let Max and Rafe watch The Haunting Of Connecticut, even 13 year old Drusilla Blackthorn knows better than to show kids horror movies!”

“Oh Ragnor you didn’t!” Tessa says in a tone of shock.

“I only let them watch the first half hour! It wasn’t even that scary! And I am responsible, I stopped Tiberius Blackthorn from committing Necromancy.” Ragnor says in a defensive tone.

“No you didn’t, you tried to but in the end it was just pure luck that it didn’t actually work, and Ty still has to deal with the consequences.” Magnus says.

“Have their been any signs of Sophie’s powers yet?” Catarina asks, changing the subject to something less bleak.

“Nothing yet, but Jamie and Lucie’s powers didn’t surface until they were teenagers, so we’re expecting the same with Sophie.” Tessa says.

“How did the birth go? Was the pain as awful as you remember?” Catarina asks. Tessa represses a shudder at the memory of her daughter’s birth, which had been a terrifying experience.

“It was terrifying, very sudden and very painful.” Tessa quietly says.

“Why? What happened?” Catarina curiously asks.

“Well....” Tessa begins to tell the story of how her daughter came into the word.

*London, April 2012*

It was a warm, spring day in the middle of April 2012 and Tessa and Jem were standing on The Black Friars Bridge, looking out onto the Thames, remembering when they use to meet here every year for one brief hour.

Tessa was currently 9 months pregnant and due in just a few short weeks, that day she and Jem had decided to take a day trip to London, spend some one on one time together before the baby arrived. They had invited Kit, but he declined and chose to stay at home. Tessa and Jem were awfully worried about him, he was barely eating, seemed to be up all hours of the night, nothing seemed to interest him and he pretty much slept all day. Tessa had suffered badly from depression after James was born, and recognized all the symptoms she had, in Kit. They would have to speak to him soon.

As Tessa and Jem stand looking out at The Thames, they suddenly hear fast approaching foot steps. Tessa turns to see the source of the noise, and sees a young mundane boy, pounding down the bridge at full speed, seemingly taking no notice of his surroundings. Tessa takes a step toward him to ask him if he is alright, when he smacks into her, full force, causing her to lose her balance and topple to the hard concrete, hard, landing on her back.

“Tessa! Oh my god, are you okay, is the baby okay?” Jem asks in a panicked tone, kneeling beside her and helping her to sit up. Before she can answer him, Tessa is hit with a strong, sharp pain in her stomach, causing her to groan and clutch at her stomach. “Oh god, we need to get you to The Institute, I don’t think mundane doctors can help us.” Jem says in a tone full of concern. He and Tessa were no longer part of the Clave, but at the same time they could not ask for mundane medical help right now, if the baby was born now and was born with a distinctive feature like golden eyes, they wouldn’t be able to hide it from the mundanes.

As Jem helps Tessa to her feet, she notices her underwear feel damp. Pushing her coat aside, Tessa presses her hand to the inside of her thigh, her breath hitching in her throat when it comes back stained scarlet.

“Oh my god! Did you cut your hand when you fell? Oh god you’re loosing so much blood!” Jem asks in a tone of pure panic.

“N-no, I didn’t cut my hand, I’m bleeding, down there.” Tessa says in a fearful tone. Just as Jem is about to hail a cab, there is a sudden gush of water from between Tessa’s legs. The baby was coming.

20 minutes later. Tessa and Jem are in the London Institute infirmary, Tessa has changed from her wet, bloodstained dress, into a hospital gown, and is trying to work through her contractions. When they arrived, Jem had contacted The Silent Brothers and begged them to come help. Brother Enoch assured him he would come check on Tessa and the baby, and would be there very soon.

As Tessa grits her teeth through another contraction, The Infirmary door squeaks open and Brother Enoch silently steps in and makes his way over to Jem and Tessa.

“Brother Enoch! Thank you so much for coming, I’m so worried about Tessa and the baby, some idiot mundane knocked into her and knocked her over and she started having contractions and bleeding and then her water broke!” Jem hurriedly exclaims.

Worrying will do no good to your wife or child, James, calm yourself. Tessa, lie back and I can examine you and the child. Brother Enoch tells them.

Tessa does as instructed, flinching as Brother Enoch’s cold hands come into contact with her bare stomach. It had never been like this with Jem, when he was Brother Zachariah, and he had looked after her during her pregnancies with Jamie and Lucie, she did not mind his touch, it did not feel inhumane like Brother Enoch’s did.

For the most part everything is well, but the child is in distress, they are not in any immediate danger but it is best they are born as fast as possible, Tessa, I can give you a herbal concoction that will speed up your labor so that your child may be born much faster than if you labored naturally. Is that alright with you? Brother Enoch asks. Tessa didn’t care what he gave her, as long as it meant her baby would be okay.

“Do what you have to, I just want my baby out safely.” Tessa weakly says.

Once Tessa has taken the herbal concoction, within minutes, her contractions become closer together and much more intense. After only an hour of labor, she feels the urge to push.

I can see the baby’s head, push as hard you can, Tessa. Brother Enoch tells her. She was quickly running out of energy, but she knew she had to find the strength to bring her daughter into the world.

Tessa takes a deep breath, clutches Jem’s hand, and pushes as hard as she can, groaning in pain as she feels the baby’s head pass through. She was sure things hadn’t been this painful with Jamie or Lucie, but then again they weren’t in distress and her labors with them had not come on due to injury, like this one had.

Your baby’s head is out, just a few more pushes. Brother Enoch says. Jem glances toward the bottom of the bed, and even though he had delivered hundreds of babies himself, he still found himself disgusted by what he saw, it was different now it was Tessa and his own child.

5 minutes later, Tessa feels a weight lift from her, and waits to hear her baby cry. Almost an entire minute passes, and the baby does not cry. Tessa’s heart contracts in fear, she couldn’t loose her baby, she couldn’t.

“Oh god no.” Jem quietly says, silently praying to The Angel to let his daughter live. Just as he and Tessa are about to give up hope, a loud, sharp wail pierces the air and they both relax.

“is she okay?” Tessa asks Brother Enoch.

She is fine, she simply needed some help clearing her lungs, though she seems to be struggling to hold onto her body heat, place her inside your gown, skin to skin will help her immensely, as I am sure you both know. Brother Enoch says, passing the baby to Tessa.

As Tessa cradles her baby to her chest, she feels her adrenaline wear off and feels more grateful than she ever has in her life, for her beautiful and perfect daughter.

Devon, July 2012.

“Oh god that must have been so awful for you.” Catarina says in a sympathetic tone, after hearing Tessa’s birth story.

“It was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever been through.” Tessa quietly says.

“Did you ever find that idiotic mundane who knocked into you, Tess?” Magnus asks. He knew if he ever got his hands on the little shit, he would kill him for hurting his best friend and her baby.

“No, neither of us got a proper look at him, I doubt he hit into me on purpose, I don’t care about him anymore, Sophie is here and she’s fine, I still have some pain and bruising but I don’t care, Sophie is healthy and that’s all that matters to me.” Tessa softly says.

“Goodness me Miss Carstairs, only 3 months old and already causing so much drama!” Magnus coos to Sophie, who he is now holding. She smiles widely up at him and lets out a little giggle. “I think that smile says that I am your favorite Uncle!” Magnus declares, smiling broadly at the baby in his arms.

“What utter nonsense, come to Uncle Ragnor, Sophie, look what I can do!” Ragnor coos to the baby, producing a ball of magic in his hands and turning it over and over. Sophie’s eyes grow wide and she instantly reaches for Ragnor, who happily takes her, and sits her in his lap. She reaches up to touch the ball of magic, which Ragnor made sure would not hurt her in anyway, and giggles at the tickling sensation it gives her.

“You like that little one, don’t you? You may be able to do this yourself one day, you’re not just any old boring Shadowhunter are you? No, you’re better than the others, in fact you are my favorite Shadowhunter!” Ragnor coos to her. Sophie smiles up at him in delight, as if she understands what he has just told her.

“Oh wait till I tell Rafael!” Magnus jokingly says.

“Alright so maybe I have two favorite Shadowhunters, but that’s it, isn’t it sweet Sophie? Just you and your cousin, the rest of The Nephilim are idiots, yes they are!” He coos.

“If her first words are anything along the lines of ‘Shadowhunters are stupid’ I will not be pleased with you, Ragnor.” Tessa teasingly says.

“Well they are, I am just trying to be responsible and teach my niece the truth!” Ragnor defensively says.

“You know half her family are Shadowhunters, including her father?” Tessa says.

“Well of course James is not an idiot, I am sure he agrees with me that most Shadowhunters are bafoons!” Ragnor exclaims.

“Actually, yes, you’re right, most Shadowhunters are idiots, but those idiots are all in Alicante now and we have a new Clave and a new Consul who aren’t idiots, and my daughter will grow up surrounded by good people, Shadowhunters or not, but she will never think that Downworlders are lesser than her, she will grow up knowing the Cohort were and are ridiculous children throwing tantrums because they don’t get their own way, she will be better than them.” Jem firmly says.

Later that night, after Magnus, Ragnor and Catarina have left and Sophie has had her evening feed, Tessa sits down on the couch, with Sophie propped up against her legs, and produces a ball of magic for her daughter.

“You may be able to do this one day my love, but that won’t make you any less of a Shadowhunter, if you want to be a Shadowhunter, your powers are yours and yours only, and you can do with them what you please, as long as you don’t hurt anyone else. Your powers don’t make you bad or evil, they make you unique and you, you will always be my sweet baby girl and I will not make the same mistakes with you that I made with your brother and sister.” Tessa quietly says. Sophie needed to grow up knowing about her potential powers, she needed to grow up surrounded by people like her, magic needed to be a part of her everyday life, turning a blind eye to her Warlock heritage and powers would do no good. Tessa had not known about her powers or how to use them and that had ended up almost costing her a happy life, if Sophie grew up in control of her powers and knowing about them, then she could defend herself and be safe, Tessa would do everything in her power to keep her daughter safe, she would not let her endure the same suffering and pain those before her had, she would grow up in a new era and she would be amazing.

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anotherdayinchuckletown · 3 years

Text

Stay

(A/N: Before y’all ask, I have no clue what this is. It wasn’t a planned WIP, this honestly just spilled out of me after I answered that one ask about Wonka being cat-called, even though they seem completely unrelated at a glance. It’s a totally different style for me, which involved very little editing/polishing. That means it’s a huge step out of my comfort zone. Reading it back to myself, though, I’m actually quite proud of it! I hope y’all enjoy it!!

- <3 Katherine)

Summary: A slight Wonka character study, detailing four times when Eliza stayed. (angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, implied nsfw at the end)

—–

Willy Wonka maintains that there is nothing wrong with his suggestion that Charlie drop out of school. He asserts that there is no subject in which he cannot teach his protege everything he needs to know. Noah and Helen Bucket seem significantly less confident in that notion.

Dr. Weber is the compromise.

Apparently, Noah Bucket has a coworker who has a friend who has a son who studied under Dr. Weber, and his coworker’s friend’s son claims that Dr. Weber is a genius. So now it falls upon Wonka to ascertain both whether or not she is a genius and whether or not she is trustworthy enough to enter his factory. His world, his lifeblood, his soul.

Dr. Weber is intelligent, all right. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he also registers that she is rather attractive, although he’s not sure why it registers at all. Her eyes are world-weary, piercing straight through him as they converse just outside of the library.

He thinks she is so different from him until she opens her mouth and rattles on for what seems like an hour about her work in designing a gas turbine with a thermal efficiency of eighty percent. Then, he knows that they are kindred spirits. He decides that is much worse, much more dangerous.

Despite being kindred spirits, she is in fact the perfect teacher for Charlie. He says, “I’m so terribly sorry for taking up so much of your valuable time, but I have one more important matter to discuss with you. Could you possibly stay just a few minutes longer?”

“Yes, I can stay,” she answers without hesitating. “Before we move on…I don’t believe you have told me your name.”

That is no accident or oversight on his part. Rather, it is his curse. Once a person knows his name, knows who he is, the timer is set. When time runs out, when his usefulness to that person runs out, that person leaves. It has happened with every single person in his life, save for the Bucket family—his family, he reminds himself sternly.

Dr. Weber does not yet know him. And for now, Dr. Weber tells him that she can stay.

—–

Instead of Dr. Weber, she insists on being called Eliza. He doesn’t mind that.

She also insists on calling him Mr. Wonka. He does mind that (even though he never says so) because she is nearly thirty, and he is not that much older, he’s really not. Forty isn’t too old to have spent nearly half of his life completely and utterly alone and only recently realized he may have some minor regrets about that.

In any case, Eliza has only been working at the factory for a few months, and she is already his best employee. She has the advantage of height over the Oompa-Loompas, and she seems never to wear out. Splitting her day between tutoring Charlie, lending a hand around the factory, and continuing to lecture at the university, it’s quite miraculous how she manages it all.

He is fairly certain she only pretends to. The deepening bags under her eyes tell him as much. Yet, her concentration never wavers, not even as he is looming over her hunched form, and she is working on balancing that ledger as though her life depends on it.

“The sun went down two hours ago,” he speaks up suddenly.

With a startled gasp, she nearly drops her pen. Meanwhile, he is grinning unapologetically—it’s amusing, forcing her to break character every so often.

Adjusting those oversized glasses, she consults her wristwatch. “Ah, I…hadn’t noticed.” Guiltily, she adds, “I’m not keeping you, am I?” Her hand resumes its writing.

“Not at all, my dear lady!” He catches the way her hand stutters at the word “dear” and chastises himself. “…How long do you plan on staying?” he asks, fearing the answer.

As expected, she spectacularly misjudges the nature of his inquiry. “As long as I am needed, Mr. Wonka,” she tells him without looking up from her work.

The timer ticks loudly enough to keep him awake all through the night.

—–

He is so hopelessly deep that Eliza is now living inside the factory. She lives there, she spends time working and chatting with him in his private suite, she has resigned from her position at the university, and she smiles much, much more often than she did months ago.

Their friendship is easy and natural now, rough as the road leading up to it had been. She has slowly and carefully lured him down that path—albeit unintentionally, oblivious as she is.

Against his better judgment, he has allowed himself to be lured. And the farther along the path he strays, the louder the ticking timer. Each tick, tick, tick in perfect synchronization with his heartbeat, accelerated because she is smiling at him.

That smile drops when her phone rings.

Although she has excused herself to his bathroom, he can still hear her words becoming more and more clipped as the call progresses. He has never heard that tone from her before, yet it’s one he recognizes well.

It’s his own tone during the rare calls his father gives him.

Eliza bursts back into the living area, visibly distressed. She hastily begins gathering her things, saying it was a silly disagreement with her former foster mother and that she’ll return to her own room immediately.

She even apologizes for ruining his evening with her dramatics. Even though she didn’t, she couldn’t, she could never. The idea is so laughable that he can’t even laugh, merely shake his head solemnly. The only time Eliza ruins his evening is when she is absent. So in actuality, he supposes, she ruined everything a long time ago.

Even so, he catches her before she can leave and suffer on her own. Despite every nerve ending screaming its discomfort at the display of vulnerability, he calmly tells her, “You don’t have to go, Liza. You can stay…if you want to.”

They sit together in silence, save for the deafening tick of the timer in his ears. He respects her dignity by not looking at her when she begins to cry. He offers his gloved hand, and he allows her to squeeze it as tightly as she needs to.

Weakly, she murmurs, “…Thank you, Willy.”

They are kindred spirits, after all. Although, for her sake, he would give anything for that to be less true.

—–

It turns out that Eliza is not the only one who has been oblivious for the past year.

It’s difficult to remember how it starts, much less which of them makes the first move toward the other. He should be embarrassed by how easily he caves to her—and he might be, had she not caved just as easily. This has been a long time coming, and when the dam finally bursts, they desperately grasp at each other as though it’s their last night alive.

The following morning, he wakes up to an empty bed and silence. Strange, as he had expected at least a touch of fanfare to her swift departure from his life. Disappointed, but not surprised.

He is not prepared for the bedroom door swinging open.

Eliza is wearing her clothing from the previous night, although her blouse is wrinkled and her hair falls in untamed waves. She holds a steaming mug of coffee in either hand. Jelly, his spoiled white Ragdoll cat, pads into the room behind her, climbs onto the bed and settles at his feet, purring contentedly in that way that announces she has just been fed.

As Eliza sets one mug down on the nightstand beside him, he blinks, ensuring that he is indeed fully awake.

“Eliza,” he rasps, cursing how relieved he sounds (although it’s a tad late to play coy). “You…you’re still here.”

She tilts her head in confusion. Where else would she be? His cat was hungry, and he always has his morning coffee at six AM.

“I do not relish returning to my room in the same outfit from last night,” she mutters, taking a sip from her own mug. “Perhaps it would be prudent of me to bring a change of clothes next time.”

Next time seems too good to be true. Then again, Eliza herself always seems too good to be true. Yet, here she is, feeding his cat, bringing him coffee in bed, crawling in next to him and skimming through an article in the Acta Astronomica on her tablet.

Wonka knows that last night, an unspoken barrier was broken, and breaking that barrier has consequences. If life has taught him anything, he should be good and terrified right now. Terrified that he has been compromised, that he has undeniably given this tightly-wound woman immeasurable power over him. His walls, so carefully crafted over thirty long, lonely years—Charlie Bucket and his family created a massive, irreparable hole in them six years ago. Eliza Weber boldly climbed through that hole and made a home for herself within. But he is not terrified, not in the slightest; in fact, he feels liberated.

Wonka eventually reaches over to his nightstand and takes a sip of his coffee. He briefly locks eyes with Eliza, and they share a languid smile, always able to communicate so much with so little effort.

Eliza, who stayed, who stays, she has ruined everything. Wonka can never thank her enough for that.

#sideblog merge stuff #queue

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terranoctis · 3 years

Text

epic iv

Here follows spoilers, lingering in the dark with another list of stories I’ve consumed.

1. The Song Of Achilles by Madeleine Miller

I’ve heard a spectrum of comments about this story for years, most things good. I studied Latin for three years in high school, so I’ve translated more parts of the Iliad than I wanted to as a teenager. But now that years have passed, I have a fondness for classical texts like the Iliad that I couldn’t have had then when it was my homework. Though I’ve forgotten much of my Latin nowadays, I do remember the story of Aeneas somewhat--and by connection, fragments of Achilles’ story. The ending of this story did not come as a surprise to me, because it’s a story most will know if they have some familiarity with classical Latin literature. Even so, the novel is still a great read when one knows the ending. If anything, there’s a kind of beauty in knowing the end and taking in the views along the way.

Though there are prophecies in the original texts, like one that I believe where it was foretold Achilles would die at Troy, this story specifically uses the prophecies to foreshadow the kind of ending we already know will come. From Patroclus being promised to fight for Helen to Achilles being the fated warrior and dying after Hector...We’re privy to these storms coming down the road, but we’re also living in this moment of Patroclus seeing the most humane sides of Achilles. Achilles, by all means, is a flawed human, but that’s what makes this story so much more compelling. His pride is what sets most of the ending arc in motion, as it is his grief that brings the story to its penultimate end. It’s a Greek tragedy, and a story of love between two men who are seen as anything as but in many interpretations of their relationship.

And really, what’s the most refreshing is that it’s written from Patroclus’ perspective. He is a character who doesn’t have a voice as much in these stories, as a man at Achilles’ side. It’s also, if one might add, a good friends to lovers story (*winks terribly*). It is though, a stronger focus on the relationship between the two than anything else. Though Miller still does a good job at illustrating the world around the pair, the story is hyper-focused on the two.

I personally don’t think I enjoyed the story as much as it was lauded (I’ve been seeing rave reviews for years), but I very much still understand why it was lauded and liked the novel. I would like to read Miller’s other story Circe now because I think her way of writing would make the story of a witch that much more compelling. I think I may have to also re-read the Iliad, only if because I’m curious to see how it would make think about this story if I remembered more of the classical text. Even though I have some criticisms, it boils down to the fact that I enjoyed this novel. You cannot deny the beauty of the writing.

2. A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik

It’s hard to put my feelings on this novel into sensible terms. I was trying to make sense of whether I actually liked the book or not, and it came down to the fact that I did even though it felt like the book was trying very hard to be something more substantive than it was. That isn’t to say it’s not a good book, or that it is a great book. It is a fun read, for what it is. I believe it is a fun book, much more so than Novik’s other books I’ve read that kind of follow a relatively more serious plot in worlds she seems to have stronger footing in. It’s clear to me and one that should be noted in case there are comparisons--this novel seems markedly intended to be marketed towards a younger age group than Uprooted and Spinning Silver. This world also takes place on Earth, unlike previous novels, so there are significantly more modern references and writing that evokes our modern world. In turn, I think it opens up to more criticisms because it will be comparable to our society, which in turns up some issues I’ll mention further in this post. If anything, I feel slightly terrible that there will be comparisons made regardless of the author’s intent to Harry Potter for any who have read that series. J.K. Rowling doesn’t have the sole authorship of magical schools in fiction, but the comparison is there because it’s the most prominent ones in most readers’ minds.

Before I proceed further, there have been controversies over Novik’s writing of race in this novel. I did not take issue personally, as an Asian American, with depictions of Asians in this novel. That being said, I am not of the specific descent with which it could be taken as offensive, and so in reading the text, my personal stake in the depiction would have lessened any perceived offense in it. Take my opinion with a grain of salt, and please understand that I do empathize with those who are offended. I understand why people may take issues with Yi Liu as a name, and I particularly understand why descriptions of hair associated with race (i.e., locs, El’s hair as someone of Indian descent) being written in terms of being “dirty,” may particularly be offensive. Though the latter was related to how the scholomance, or the school, has maleficara that will attack any students and hair was a bad idea in the school in general because it’s an easy way for them to get attacked--I can understand why even that connotation (that I don’t think Novik ever intended) could be extremely problematic. It’s not okay the loc description was connotated that way, if you reread that section, and it’s something I hope she learns in future books. That being said, I do think much of the criticism is unfair. Novik is not tone-deaf as I’ve read in other writers. She is working to describe a more diverse world even if it’s not the strongest way to do so. I think it should be noted the bullies in her story are establishment, rich kids. The loc description is the worst of her offenses, but it’s something a writer is learning and reprimanded for (not hated on, as I’ve been seeing in some reviews). Novik works to write a diverse world, which is something markedly more than what many white writers in magical schools have done--and that effort is something that should be commended. I mentioned earlier Rowling. Simply compare the student body of Novik’s world to Rowling’s Hogwarts to see what I mean about diversity. I sincerely hope she takes the constructive criticisms of this novel to improve in the next one, because I sincerely think she can be better and will be.

The story definitely focuses on the grim side of magic, with larger-than-life stakes when it comes to survival and becoming accomplished students. Even the most minute details like eating lunch are filled with danger, to which all these students have acclimated to. Nonetheless, as a story led with teenage protagonists, there’s very much a sense of cliques and popularity that correlate directly to their survival and futures.

It’s interesting that El’s foil is everyone’s favorite hero and her new best himbo friend, Orion Lake. (It also made me giggle, because one of my characters is named Orion, and he’s the complete opposite of the Orion in this book) Orion is immediately likable to everyone, but he’s being used while El is disliked and refuses to be used by anyone. They’ve both never been quite treated as a normal person or friend by anyone, so their unlikely friendship is the core of this story. Quite frankly, the story shines the most when these two are working together to do whatever they need to. A review I read remarked upon their relationship as the amazing friendship of a himbo and his intelligent best friend, and it made me laugh because it’s so true and it’s fun to read.

El’s nature as someone shunned makes her want to shun everyone else and build alliances. It’s nice, for one, that she builds an alliance of other anti-establishment people at the costing of shunning establishment people, depending on how you look at it. It assumes though that all establishment people are bad, and maybe it’s my hesitance on that which makes me hesitant on liking El. Nonetheless, that’s kind of the joy of a flawed character. She’s allowed to make mistakes and reassess them as her experiences go on. We see that in her gradual interactions with Clara, and that’s a credit to the writing, no matter how minimal those interactions are so far.

Overall, I do think the book is a fun read. The execution of the writing, in El’s attitude at times to the glaring problems of depiction mentioned earlier, are the flaws in this story. Nonetheless, the dialogue and the interactions between these kids still make it a fun ride. It’s not exactly my favorite book on magic, but an enjoyable one nonetheless.

3. The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson

Where do I even start with this one? I think I was drawn from the very first chapter. It’s a refreshing and beautifully-woven take on the multi-verse, in ways that I think I would love to see a film or TV adaptation on this. A multi-verse is a subject matter that interests me, but it’s also the way this novel was written that truly sells it for me. This might be one of my favorite novels I’ve read in awhile. It’s not a perfect novel (what novel is?), but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The story is not only a depiction of multi-verses, but also a discussion on how the conditions of your environment can dictate much of who you become. It opens in an interesting way, showing that the only people who can become traversers, or travelers through multi-verses, are those who are dead in that world. That is why Cara is a traverser, because she’s dead on almost every world they’ve discovered. She only survived by a different choice or a different means of life on this one, when the conditions of how she was raised with a poor mother, generally killed her on most worlds. The multi-verse in this story is not only just for the exploration side of things, but also a commentary on classism and social constructs. It’s what makes this story stand out. All good science fiction novels for me are a commentary on something very human, and in this case, it’s the result of how little choices or even little factors can factor in someone surviving or not. Cara’s a survivor, and there are twists that are introduced throughout the story that continually took me off-guard, when generally, I can sort of guess some twists for most stories I read nowadays. It’s a testament to how well-written the story is from Cara’s POV.

At first, I felt the last third of the novel was not as strong as the first two-thirds, but the more I think about it from a thematic standpoint, the more I do like it and the ending, at least in terms of Cara and Dell. I’m not certain I enjoy the ambiguity of what happens with Adam Brosch, our main antagonist, and his brother. That being said, I sort of understand where the author wanted to go with this. We only have one world to live with sometimes, so might as well live the best one with the brother we do have and the world we can control. At least, that’s one take on it. One doesn’t forget the atrocities of such men’s crimes, however.

The longing between Cara and Dell is quite beautiful as well. I do feel the writer put them in at times with a romantic connection that was a glowing bright light at all times, which I have my issues with, but some loves can be like that and I respect that. It doesn’t always read the best though, but for the purposes of this novel, I think it suffices and weaves in beautifully when tied to traversers. There’s a kind of haunting way in which Cara understands that on every world, she’s afraid of her abusive ex and his brother (who turns out to be her boss in this main world). There’s an even more beautiful meaning in Cara thinking that in every world, she's drawn to Dell. It takes on a different mean when you think about who you are in multiple, divergent universes and think that perhaps there is one constant factor to it with someone you love. I think it’s telling that the author ended on that note, about a couple who probably wouldn’t have worked out on any other universe because the space between them was so vast. But that it existed in just one world, with them, meant more than anything and that it was precious. In the end, the story closes to multiple worlds and talks lovingly about the possibility and hope in this one. It closes with Cara’s vision of herself with Dell, despite everything that has happened and may happen to her--and that this one out of all the infinite worlds means significantly more to her.

I also wanted to note that the author’s dedication at the end of the novel, right after the words that Cara narrates in her vision of her future with Dell, is touching. I don’t mean to read into the author’s intent, but I can’t help but feel in a good way that the story sort of takes on another meaning with that dedication. I admire that kind of affection, that I can only imagine to an extent she wrote for someone else she left unnamed. I guess, after all, I do want love stories in my fantasy and science fiction novels. I’m not surprised exactly.

When it comes down to it, I’m also a ruthless romantic at times. This is the kind of story that makes me want to write more and more.

#personal #.chrysalis.#reading and ramblings

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unify-my-universe · 7 years

Text

1985 a cute kid scene...

3rd September 1985…

Penny had the day off work as it was Scarlett’s first day at school. It had come around so fast. It made Michael and Penny feel a bit old now that their youngest child was off to primary school!

William who was going into his last year of primary school in his usual big brother protective manner insisted on walking Scarlett to school and back. However Penny because she was worried about how Scarlett would react going into school for the first time wanted to accompany William and Scarlett to school.

“But mum, I can walk Scarlett to school!”

Penny put her hand on her hip and sighed.

“You don’t know how she’s going to be Willy about starting school, she might feel a bit better about going if I come with you.”

“But I’ll look after her!”

Scarlett was sat at the breakfast bar with Michael, they were eating their cereals quietly, ignoring the argument brewing between William and Penny.

“Willy why have you got to argue with me? I booked this day off work for a reason…”

“God mum why don’t you trust me?”

Michael and Scarlett looked up from their cereals for a moment. Michael looked at Scarlett and rolled his eyes. She smiled.

“Right Scarlett I’d better sort this out before it turns into a full blown argument!”

Michael went into the lounge, Penny sensed his presence.

“Michael will you tell William to just let me walk them to school today?”

Penny gave a look as if to say “you’re taking my side on this Michael and you have no choice in the matter”.

Michael sighed.

“Willy I understand you want to be protective big brother but let your mum walk with you today. It’s only today after all.”

William crossed his arms.

“Fine!”

William walked off in a sulk and went to fetch his schoolbag from his room.

Penny looked at Michael and rolled her eyes.

“Since when did we have a stroppy teenager?” said Penny.

Michael walked up to Penny and put his arms around her.

“Well he is growing up now Penelope…”

He kissed the top of her head.

Michael let Penny walk the kids to school whilst he tidied up the house and did some reading of a script he’d been working on, based on holidays in Southwold with his parents. He decided also to edit bits of it that he wasn’t too happy with. He felt there was a lot of work still left to be done on it!

Michael heard the front door unlock and open, Penny walked into the lounge.

Michael turned round to Penny.

“The children safely deposited to school?”

Penny sat next to Michael on the sofa.

“Yes, Scarlett seemed very eager to go to school actually, she walked hand in hand with Willy and didn’t turn to look at me at all! She’s better than I was when I first started school!”

Michael put his arm around her and smiled.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about love. She’ll be alright you’ll see and with Willy looking after her at school, he’ll make sure no one teases her!”

“I knew she’d be alright, it’s just she’s my baby and I worry about her. She’s a sensitive soul like her father!”

“And like her mother, you’re a sensitive soul too my darling. Do you want me to pick them up later?”

“Yeah if you don’t mind dear, I’ll do some shopping whilst you do that!”

“So you hated school that much eh?” said Michael.

“Yeah I used to cry on the way to school every day, my mother would just tell me off for being so stupid. She didn’t realise that I was bullied at school, not that she’d care. I’d come back from school after being bullied all day and come back to more bullying at home.”

Michael put his arm around her and kissed her forehead deeply.

“Well that’s all in the past now, well your past, though technically it’s the future!”

Penny started to laugh, all the memories of her childhood faded away.

Penny could see that there was a piece of paper on the coffee table.

“Is that the script you’ve been working on?”

“Yeah I’ve just been reading and scribbling on it whilst you were out. I’m not very impressed by it.”

Penny had some inkling of what he was writing. In her world it was to be called East of Ipswich and mirrored his first meeting with Helen, maybe this version of the story was destined to be on the rubbish pile?

“I see, want me to take a look at it?”

“Yeah sure, be good to get a different opinion on it other than my own!”

Penny studied the script carefully and she had to agree with Michael it wasn’t very good. Any other time whatever Michael wrote she loved but it just didn’t have a very interesting plotline.

Michael could tell by her face that she was about as impressed as he was with the script!

“You didn’t like it did you?”

“I’ve read better things by you Mikey. I dunno it just doesn’t have that charm like other stuff you’ve written in the past. It’s not really that interesting a topic to focus on in a screenplay format. Like if you wanted to make it really interesting you’d have to add some conflict, maybe a little romance, some comedy but of course what do I know I’m not a famous writer!”

“Actually Penelope you’re right but since this mirrors my own life I don’t want to have a little holiday romance in it because well I didn’t meet you in Southwold though I wish I’d have known you a few years earlier…”

No you just met your future wife there instead…

So that was the end of that script!

Michael at 3 o’clock set off to collect the kids from school, Penny a few minutes later went off to do some food shopping as well as get a little early birthday present for Scarlett.

Michael happily listened to Scarlett tell him all about her first day at school. She didn’t let poor William get a word in edgeways! She gave a blow by blow account of her day such as what she learnt at school, what she got up to at break and lunchtime and finally the new friends she’d made. Michael was beaming with pride and knew that Penelope would be too after she’d heard what a good first day she’d had!

William after his sister finished talking was telling his father about how he’d protected his little sis from the boys in her class and above taking an interest in her! His day had been pretty average, it was the boring subjects today but he was happy that Scarlett had such a good day.

Michael had never been so proud of his kids than this day.

When Michael and the kids returned home Penny was just packing away the shopping. Scarlett rushed into the kitchen and hugged her mother tightly.

“Mommy!”

Penny started stroking her hair.

“Hello sweetheart, you look happy, you had a good day at school?”

“Yes it’s been great! I’ve just been telling Daddy all about my day!”

Penny picked Scarlett up and held her in her arms.

“Right well you can tell me all about your day too!”

Scarlett repeated what she’d told Michael to Penny and as Michael expected, Penny was bursting with pride. Of course she didn’t neglect William and asked about his day too. Once she found out about him protecting Scarlett she was proud of him too. In fact she was super proud of both of them. They reminded her so much of Michael.

“Willy I’m very proud of you looking after your sister on her first day at school.” Said Penny.

She went up to William and hugged him tightly.

“Oh god Mum stop it! You’re such an embarrassment!”

Penny looked at Michael and laughed.

A sign that she was getting old, when the children got to the I’m embarrassed by my parents age!

She gave both William and Scarlett a present. It was nothing extravagant but something that they both would cherish. She bought William a toy car and Scarlett a doll.

Later that night, Penny and Michael were sat in bed. Michael was reading the newspaper, a certain article caught his eye.

“Look Penelope a glowing article about Brazil, especially my performance as Jack Lint!”

“Well you were the star dear…”

She kissed him on the cheek.

“Weren’t the kids wonderful today?” said Michael.

“Yes they were, I nearly started crying I was so overcome with pride!”

“One of the many joys of being parents darling.”

“Indeed and you as always were brilliant Michael, they’re so much like you.”

“Oh I don’t know you have to take half the credit for them turning out so well Penelope.”

Penny smirked.

“Mm I suppose you’re right, I did play some part in bringing them up!”

“So where’s my present for being a good husband?”

He reached over and kissed Penny deeply.

#Brazil era ooh exciting #michael palin #fanfiction

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careerdesign · 4 years

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By Abdur Quaderi