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emma-commonlanguages · 2 years

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Getting There: 05.25-05.27

“Now tell us again how you got connected with your host family in Nepal, Emma?” My mom asked, provoking a dinner table share.

We were sitting on the patio at my parent’s country club in Chevy Chase, Maryland with several of their friends after finishing a round of pickleball. Though my upcoming travels were powered by common privilege, to my parent’s friends I think I seemed like a strange female specimen—preparing to travel in faraway, developing countries alone. Who’s child is this?

“Oh, friend of a friend.”

“Which friend?” my mom implored.

I inhaled, “You don’t know him… It’s this guy named Ford, who I met at a hippie, ecstatic dance party in Marin.” I laughed at myself. And my parents’ tennis-skirt and polo-shirt clad friends laughed at me too.

One of the men chimed in with an unsolicited, suggested detail addition: “Tripping on mushrooms?”

“Yes, tripping out of my mind on ‘shrooms” I flattered the dad joke, which I hate to do, but sometimes it’s necessary and efficient to carry on with the conversation’s main topic. Laughs at the table trailed off. They seemed to be assessing the joke’s grains of truth, then looked back up at me, expectantly.

“So Ford introduced me to his friend Jim, who has spent a lot of time in Nepal, collecting art and selling it back in the States. And Jim connected me with his friend Dawa who runs a homestay.”

On the night of Wednesday, May 25 when I was due to leave for Nepal, I checked over my packing and tried on my 50L backpack. I’ve had the pack since I was 15 from an Appalachian Trail backpacking trip, which I would angstily tell you then had changed my life.

“Looks like a pretty big load,” my dad commented. I had been over my selected items several uneven times myself and once for final ratifications with my mom. I couldn’t possibly imagine pairing anything down. Adding a last minute sixth pair of underwear felt indulgent. “Reasonable, though,” he assured me.

My parents couldn’t drive me to the airport because they had a cocktail party at the French Embassy. We said our goodbyes—mom in a white eyelet dress, French flag broach, a family heirloom of a fringed shawl, and a Chinese wooden clutch, all of which I’d helped her pick out, dad in coat and tie, and me in a long gauze Indian skirt and trekking shoes, which would become my fashion-compromised, practical uniform in Nepal.

“Ciao bella,” my dad offered his final parting words, halfway out the door, feigning chill. But I felt his love, urgently.

Largely, my parents voiced support and excitement for my travels, but in the month leading up to my departure, they also voiced fear, which though reasonable in moderate quantities, felt weighed down by their own baggage in excess. And ever since I’ve attempted to parse out their fear from mine.

“You just wouldn’t want anything to happen that would ruin your life.” My dad said over the phone.

I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom in San Francisco and, in denial of knowing exactly what he was thinking about, I wondered what he had in mind. You just wouldn’t want anything to happen that would ruin your life, a haunting refrain.

How could I take caution and not fear from my dad’s warning? How could I act smartly and conservatively, while still savoring my experiences, without having my experiences dominated by fear of predatory men?

My mom purchased me a personal keychain alarm system and in the car she softly asked if she could please track my phone’s location. So we set up location sharing services on my phone and GPS watch that afternoon.

I found my own way to Washington Dulles Airport. Waiting in line for check-in, the edge of myself felt thin against the airport air conditioning. I learned my pack weighed 13 kilos. And I had the sense—with all my belongings for the next 2 months on my back—that something like home was under my skin.

I slept all the way to Istanbul.

In Istanbul I received a text from my mom that I’d left a mailing with a new debit card on my bedside table at home and I realized the debit card in my wallet was due to expire in 5 days.

I started panic-Googling, texting back and forth with my mom, and searching my bank’s Help Center for an answer to, it turns out, an infrequently asked question. My 1-hour airport wifi expired. Shit.

Before we got disconnected, my mom and I decided the best thing to do was for me to place a collect call to Capital One. I went looking for a pay phone. An airport official came over and asked if I needed help after observing me standing there for a while, incessantly pushing the telephone switch hook and other buttons. But he didn’t know how to use the phones either. We struggled together for a bit—picking up, dialing, hanging up, clicking, beeping, and giving up at a long monotone beep.

“I can get you an additional free hour of wifi, it’s within my authority,” he offered.

We walked over to the Wifi kiosk. He swiped his passport card through the reader, which I thought was funny—was he giving me his personal free wifi hour?

“This is risky, but…” He read me off his passport card number and the password the wifi kiosk randomly generated.

Ok, I thought, grimacing, this *is* his personal free wifi hour. Sketchy? Sort of. But I was desperate to figure out how to get myself a new debit card overseas. I thanked him and prepared to scurry off.

“Now, can I ask you a favor?” he asked.

“Sure…?”

He seemed to fumble for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say next: “Can I have your phone number?… I want to practice my English… It’s okay if not.”

I stared back at him blankly. “Oh, my phone number doesn't work outside the U.S.”

“WhatsApp maybe?”

“No, sorry.” I walked off. Oh my God. Benign, but I took it as a warning of how I would stand out further east—blonde hair, blue eyes—and the tricks men might try to play if I let them.

Several minutes later he found me sitting down at a random gate.

“Ma’am I need you to log off the wifi. My colleague told me what I did was highly illegal.”

He stood over me, watching as I logged off. He apologized and thanked me in quick succession, then walked off. So bizarre.

I decided to turn off airplane mode and incur international charges to call Capital One, which had always been the easiest thing to do, though I resisted it, neurotic about limiting international calling fees. I arranged to have a new debit card sent to the homestay in Kathmandu. I’m praying it finds its way. When my gate was announced, I walked to a faraway terminal, where I hoped I’d never see the airport official again.

I slept intermittently on the flight from Istanbul to Kathmandu. There were several young girls on the flight who kept singing Katy Pary, “I kissed a girl…” That was the only line they knew. A good legacy for Katy Pary, I thought, subconsciously normalizing girls kissing other girls among the Nepali youths. They exclaimed “Nepal, Nepal!” when at 6:15am we landed in the cradle of the Himalayas.

I surprisingly wound myself through customs without a hitch. Somehow, when I walked out of the airport into the morning smog, it was just me. I felt like a celebrity, begging for anonymity. I squinted at the line-up of people holding up signs for airport transfers. Though I had arranged an airport pickup with Dawa weeks ago, from our latest communications, I was unsure if it was confirmed.

Before fears of finding my own way to the homestay could totally settle in though, I deciphered my name in red on the largest sign in the lineup. I was so relieved. I waved and a spontaneous smile developed under my mask. The guy holding the sign, who I presumed to be Dawa’s son, pointed at the sign inquisitively. I nodded. He backed away from the guardrail and started walking and I followed on the other side.

“Are you Dawa’s son?” I asked across the guardrail. He nodded. He introduced himself as Dundhup. He had long black hair, tied up in a low bun, broad cheekbones, and a sweet smile.

When we met at the end of the guardrail he took my backpack off my shoulders and replaced it with a light yellow khata—a silk prayer scarf, which symbolizes purity and compassion for arrivals, journeys, and departures in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. “Welcome to Nepal.”

We rode through Kathmandu, past the Buddha eyes of the Swayambhu Temple, its stupa teeming with monkeys. After formalities and establishing that it was not only my first time in Nepal, but my first time in all of Asia, we spoke about trekking in the Annapurna region. He told me he led a couple on their honeymoon around the Annapurna Circuit 4 years ago and that now they were expecting a baby, which made him very happy.

I think it was then, in the rear view mirror, that I realized he was handsome, though maybe this happened later. Whenever it was, it was something in the way he puffed air into his mouth while thinking about a question I’d just asked, which reminded me of a poet I had a fling with in California. And isn’t that how all attraction begins, maybe—some sort of reminiscence?

At one point he rolled down the window to greet two young people he knew on bicycles. “Those are my classmates.” Kathmandu, at least his Kathmandu, felt smaller to me then. I learned he was getting his Masters in Adventure Tourism.

After a narrow and windy stretch, we pulled into a red wrought iron gate and parked.

“Welcome home,” he said. I laughed at how natural it sounded.

The house was a 2-story stone villa, painted maroon, with navy and gold pillars and French-style windows.

“Would you like the tour?”

I followed Dhundup, bearing my backpack, around the side of the house to the vegetable garden and the cow shed. I peeked inside the damp, dung-smelling interior and three sets of eyes glistened back at me—two grown cows and one baby.

We rounded a corner to a doorway where a man and a woman were descending the stairs.

“Mamma and Pappa,” Dundhup said with an open, outstretched palm.

The two of them cupped their hands in prayer and bowed. “Welcome, dear sister,” Dawa said, as he anointed me with another Khata, this one bright white.

Dundhup led me around the backside of the house. We idled under their mango and avocado trees. He told me about the recent hail storm, which knocked several baby avocados to the ground.

On the roof, I exchanged my first and final words with his grandmother: “Namaste.”

“She doesn’t talk much,” Dhundup assured me.

I met their dogs: Pangrey (which means black and white in Nepali) and Gyurme (which means stable in Tibetan). And from up on high, he pointed to my future as a nun. Kopan Monastery—where I’ll attend a 5-day meditation retreat—sits, gold and red, on top of a hill north of their house.

In the kitchen, Dawa gave me a warm and long hug. Something like home, which I’d felt in the airport, pulsated. And though she didn’t volunteer it the way Dawa did, I hugged his wife Hiumaya (her name means fresh fallen snow) too. Hiumaya prepared tea and banana pancakes for Dhundup and me.

I spoke to Dawa for a while after breakfast on adrenalized fumes. He unboxed a tupperware of medication and told me about his heart. He’d recently been hospitalized when its beats slowed. He explained the injection he’d received through his wrist and that so long as his beats maintained a certain cadence, he could avoid open heart surgery.

Dawa’s name means he was born on a Monday. I told him I was born on Monday too, so he named me Dawa Dolma. Dolma is the green tara, the goddess of youth. Him and Hiumaya referred to me as Dawa Dolma almost exclusively from then on.

He told me about their last name, Tamang, which means ‘horse warrior,’ in Tibetan. Tamangs are a larger enthnic group, which fled Chinese persecution in Tibet for the north hills of Kathmandu Valley on horseback. I would meet several more Tamnags over the coming days, all of which were referred to as ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters,’ even if distantly related.

Dawa told me about his days as a porter, carrying heavy loads through the Himalaya. His tokmas (walking sticks) hung on the opposite wall. “This is how I became who I am,” he told me. Some of them were so small. “That’s why I keep my tokmas on the wall.” I only partly knew what he meant then. Portering was how he made a livelihood, how he pulled himself out of poverty, to live in this home, to provide for his family. I would learn later that he’d started as a porter at age 9.

The income became unreliable, he told me. People became more flaky with the advent of the internet, canceling treks last-minute, which had been planned months, years in advance. So Dawa looked to America for work.

Joan Halifax Roshi, Founder and Head Buddhist Teacher at the Upaya Zen Center in Santa Fe, hired him to tend the gardens there. Unbeknownst to them, Hiumaya and Dawa moved to New Mexico, pregnant with a fourth child.

Mary was born in America, named because the doctors declared her a ‘miracle baby.’ They said she wouldn’t make it. Her heart was too weak. “Maybe she has a heart like mine… Maybe it won’t cause her trouble until she’s sixty,” Dawa speculated.

Jim had told me about Mary before I arrived, that she was beautiful and that despite her age, everyone agreed she was the smartest in the family, smarter than her two sisters, one a physician's assistant, the other a computer scientist, which I thought must be the case when I met her.

“Oh, I can tell you just got sleepy,” Dawa said the same moment I realized my face involuntarily sunk.

I napped until lunch. Then napped again after lunch. Complete surrender to the jet-lag, but I was told that night they would take me to their cousin’s 2nd birthday party, so I wanted to be rested.

The ride over was bumpy and the streets were dark. Dhundup drove. I was squished in between Mary and her aunt, who we picked up along the way. The lights were off in every shop and street lamp, but people still attended to their Friday evening meeting and shopping. A friend had told me to be prepared for the ‘power shedding’ that sporadically happens. I couldn’t imagine myself ever walking these streets alone.

The birthday girl sported a pink and green floral tulle dress the night of her party. The family lit candles, sang happy birthday, and ate cake before dinner. What does this say about Nepali culture? I thought.

Dhundup poured me a beer—Nepal Ice—and our conversation resumed from the breakfast table. We had been discussing astrology. And after clinking beers, we uncovered that we are both Scorpios and exchanged a knowing, chaotic glance. Our conversation flowed so easily, despite coming from worlds away.

They served soya beans, french fries, and dahl baht and we ate around the coffee table in the living room. The women kept exchanging concerned looks and Nepali words, subtly motioning to my plate. I asked Dundhup what they were saying. And he said they were worried I wasn’t eating enough, even when I cleaned my plate. “Pugyo,” I learned, means, “I’m full.”

I fell asleep immediately upon returning home.

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sunflowerryvol6 · 3 years

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Cheat Day Part 2

I don't know what made me write this, but I hope this makes some sense. Dedicated to the sweetest @hstyleswomen @harrysficreblog

Masterist

Warnings: Angst

WC: 2800

Six years later.

The first few years of the split were brutal. You both couldn't spend a moment in the room with each other without crying or fighting. There seemed to be no end to your suffering, it seemed. But like all wounds, time heals most. You just needed some time to get your head in the game. Luna was your priority, after all.

Harry and you had found a rhythm in co-parenting. He would have her on weekdays for half the month, and rest you would have her. You both would alternate on weekends. As years have gone by, you both have learned to spend more time together, for Moonie's sake. Last year, you went on a vacation too. You, Moonie, Harry and his girlfriend Lisa. You and Lisa didn't have a great start, but both of you decided to hash it out for the sake of your little girl. She loved Moonie as her own, and you couldn't be more grateful. Lisa and Moonie had a beautiful relationship; she was a friend you little moon needed. Whenever Harry and you had arguments, Lisa would take Moonie and excuse herself out of the crossfire. Spending time with Lisa has made Moonie realise that it's possible to have more than one parental figure, and you can love them all the same. You couldn't be happier. You had finally got the opportunity to dive back into work fully and have a support system. That's what Lisa and Harry had become to you. Your support system.

Lisa and Harry met two years after the split. She had always been very kind to you, but it took you some getting used to the idea of your ex-husband with somebody else. So, of course, there was friction at first, but over time once you got to know her a little bit, you both got on very well. It definitely has something to do with the way she treated your daughter.

Lisa was a widow. Her husband and the little boy died in a freak accident. She never told you the details of how it happened, but it was something she was dealing with on her own. Harry had supported her through her grieving process, and that's what brought them together. It can seem odd to people how they got together, but those who know them know they're great for each other. Harry had changed too, since meeting her. He had a newfound appreciation for his daughter and his ex-wife and the relationship they had. That's what pushed him to work through the differences he had with you. He had to find a way to make things work and still be in your daughter's life. It took a lot of fights and compromise. But in the end, you two decided to put your past behind and march on ahead as a family. Even though it's not what you had signed up for in this relationship, but that doesn't mean you're not grateful for it.

It was Friday night, and Harry and Lisa would be coming in with Moons anytime now. It was a tradition you three had started for your little girl. Anne was coming over too. She wasn't happy with what happened, but she made peace with the situation like her son. You had taken the home you and Harry had bought, and he'd moved into another house close by. You both decided you needed to be closer to Luna. Even though it had led to multiple fights, in the end, you knew it was the best decision to stay close by. A few years ago, when Luna's appendix burst, he was close by to drive you both to the hospital and took care of at the hospital. When you have to go on work trips, he is there to take her in. It's an unconventional set-up, but it works.

Harry walks into your house with a very smiley Lisa on his arm. "Why are you smiling so much?" You ask her. She shows you her hand coyly. "Harry proposed to me this afternoon." Anne looks up from her phone, surprised. She smiles wide and the couple "Oh honey! I'm so happy for you both!" She rushes to hug the couple. Luna runs up to Lisa and Harry to embrace them. "I'm so happy for Pa! and you too, Lise!" Harry reaches down to her level and kisses her on the cheek. You were just standing and watching this exchange, kind of stunned. You knew they were serious, but you didn't think he was going to propose. You quickly recover and walk over to Lisa, "I'm so happy for you, Lisa! Congratulations!" You hug her, and over her shoulder, you can see Harry looking at you, and you wipe your eyes quickly and pull away from the hug.

The night goes better than you'd expected. You all celebrated with a nice bottle of wine and stories of how they met, and she told stories of her first few times interacting with Moons. Overall it was a beautiful night of reminiscing. Too bad you disagreed. You'd had a little too much to drink and caught Harry looking over to you every time you refilled your glass. You knew better than to call him out on it. So you just sat in a corner and wished you'd disappear.

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You wake by the incessant ringing coming from your phone. It's Harry. It's pretty late for him to be calling you, so you answer. "Harry, what's wrong?" You ask.

"Open your door; I'm outside." He speaks. You look at the time on your phone and get back on call. "What are you doing here? Why'd you call?" You ask again. "Just come out. I'll explain." You get out of bed and wear your robe and walk downstairs to your main door.

"Harry. What are you doing here? Are you drunk?" You look at him, confused.

He walks in. "I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have asked Lisa to marry me. I knew it when I broke the news to you today. I knew it was a bad call. I thought you wanted me to move on, but looking at your face today, I couldn't believe I had done that to you." He breathes out.

You look at him wide-eyed at his confession. "What the fuck? Did you just walk in here thinking you were going to make this stupid fucking argument and I was going to fall for it?" You say to him.

"Y/N, I know you love me."

"Of course, I love you, you bloody moron. I do, and I have for the last 15 years. But you cheated on me, remember? And you brought Lisa into our lives, whom I love very dearly, by the way. So what do you think was going to happen?"

"I can't stand being away from you. Living so close, yet you won't let me come near you. It's been killing me slowly each day." His lip was trembling as tears well in his eyes.

"Harry, you made this choice 4 years ago. You asked her to marry you. Why would you do this to me now?"

"I just need to kiss you once, please. Harry pleads.

"Think about Luna. Think about what you're ruining for her. We have already broken up our family. You can't break it anymore and cause her pain, please. I love you, I do. Very very much, and I can't stand here and watch you ruin yet another relationship, Harry."

"Please listen to what I'm saying. I love you, goddamnit! I need you to recognise that. I need you to tell me it will be okay, and we will be okay."

"We are okay, H. As okay as we can be. Please go back home to your fiancé, and don't bring this up again ever. For the sake of our daughter. Please." You're pleading with him now with tears streaming freely.

You turn around and walk back to your room. You laid back on your bed and cried quietly into your pillow.

You knew what you were going to do.

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You stand outside the door of your ex's mother. You have no idea how you will tell her what you have done to her daughter-in-law to be. But you had no one to turn to. So, you ring the doorbell and wait for her to open the door.

"Hello, darling! What a wonderful surprise!" She beams at you. You give her a small smile and walk into the house. You get comfortable on the couch in the living area while she closes the door and comes up to where you're sitting. "Moonie didn't want to come along?" She asks as she goes back to folding the laundry you had caught her in the midst of. "No, it's just me today." You spoke. "Let me put on some tea, and we'll have a good ol' mother-daughter chat. What d'ya say?" She smiles. "Yes. That sounds like a great plan." You smiled.

You both sat at the kitchen island, sipping on peppermint tea and mindlessly talking about things and catching up. You had yet to tell her. "Darling, let's stop beating around the bush, shall we?" Anne says to you. You freeze. She couldn't have known, but she definitely knows what's up.

"Harry came to talk to me the night he proposed." You looked down at your cup shamefully. Anne reached out to place her palm on yours, "I know. He told me." She smiles sadly.

"Yeah, and I can't live here anymore knowing how he feels." You whisper. "Are you going to tell him?" Anne seems calm like she understands how this must feel. "No." You look up at her with tears welling up in your eyes.

She gets up from across the table and comes around to where you are seated. She reaches out to you, and you lean into her and hold her waist, silently crying.

"Everything will fall in place, my child."

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You travelled a lot the following month, so it was easier to avoid Harry after that conversation you had. You had spent countless nights crying into your pillow. You knew you had to go back to therapy. You couldn't slip now. You had been doing so well.

Moonie was supposed to stay with you tonight. Harry would be dropping her off from ballet any moment now. You had been avoiding him ever since the incident between you too. You couldn't bear to look at him or Lisa. You just made up excuses most Fridays, some of which you were travelling, so it wasn't that big a deal. You were home to spend time with your girl and back to the office. Today, you'd just have to suck it up and face him. You didn't know what you'd say, but you couldn't avoid him forever. The thought alone had your stomach-churning. Suddenly the tacos you had for lunch didn't seem to be such a great idea. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of cold water. You took an icepack from the fridge and carried both the items, and sat back on the couch with your head leaned back. You checked your phone for the time, and just in time, the bell rang. You got up from the sofa and walked up to the door. Opened the door to find Moonie, Harry and Lisa, all standing in front of you. You could see her ring glistening even in the porch light outside your home.

Suddenly you felt lightheaded and reached for the doorframe to steady yourself. Before you could think, you sunk down. But Harry was quick to catch you. Harry knelt beside you and laid your head on his lap, "It's okay, you're okay." He said softly. "Lisa! could you bring her some water, please". That's the last thing you heard before you passed out.

He was still standing behind you. "Are you feeling ill?" You rolled your eyes at him, you tried to sit up, and he helps you. "No, I think it's just the travelling." His eyes softened at your comment, "I've been calling you; you know? Why didn't you answer any of my calls?" He asks.

What were you supposed to say to that? I'm sorry that you want to leave your fiancé for me? Instead, you just shrugged. "I've been busy, Harry. Actually, I don't feel so good right now, so could we maybe talk about this later?" You turned to look at him. He moved backwards and out of your way to give you some room. "Yeah, sure. Can I get you something? I can stay with you for a few hours." He asked. "No. That won't be necessary, Harry. Please go home."

You walk into the living room and find Lisa making a cup of tea. "Hey, you feeling any better?" She smiles at you. She pours the tea into a cup and brings it over to you, "It always helped me, so I figured why not?" You thank her and take the cup from her.

"Yeah, I think it's just the stress from travelling so much. I'll be okay in a few days. I think I'm going to turn in." You asked. "Of course, darling. You just feel better, okay?" She smiles at you. "Honey, Let's head home and give this one some time to rest." She walks up to Harry and puts her arm around him, and sweetly pecks his cheek. He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'll just go say goodbye to her", And he walks towards your daughter's room.

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Harry : I need to see you, please.

You: Come over after dinner today.

Harry: See you x

"Are we going to talk about what happened?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "I think we're past the stage of talking at this point." You sigh. "What do you mean?" He asks. He's furrowing his brows at you like he does when he's concerned about something.

"I'm leaving, Harry."

"What."

"Yeah, I have been planning it for 2 months now. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"I came to tell you that I ended things with Lisa, and I wanted to give us a real shot. Give Moonie an actual shot at a family."

"I don't need to tell you anything, really. We can figure out the details of how we're going to manage custody later over text or call."

"So you're just going to leave your daughter go to god knows where?" He asks you.

"I can't be here anymore, Harry. This opportunity will bring countless more opportunities for Moonie and me. And I need to do this for myself. Now, if you will please." You show him the door.

That was the last time you'd see Harry for a long time. But that's something he didn't need to know.

You didn't know if you'd be able to go through with it. But it had to be done. If Harry were to leave Lisa or not, it had to be on his terms, not because he was in love with you.

A few months later

When you told Anne about your plan, she wasn't exactly on board. But she understood, and she loved you. So, of course, she brought you to her farmhouse for you to stay. You and Luna made an agreement that she wouldn't tell her Pa that you're camping out here. Anne would bring her down on weekends. You'd found a strange confidante in your daughter. Not that you'd go into the details of your relationship with Harry, but she understood many things that you didn't give her credit for. That's how you spent the past few months. Getting to know your daughter, who hadn't been a stranger to your problems with Harry, even though that's how you wanted it to be.

You were sipping your morning coffee as you check your emails for anything you had lined up for the day. The date was looming over you, and you just needed to be as distracted as to not think about the wedding happening right now. You need to occupy yourself with work. So, you open the email folder and find an email from Lisa. She has tried to reach out to your multiple times on call and via text, but you always make an excuse about work or being sick. With time she stopped reaching out so often, and you felt less guilty for moving away.

Dear Leyla,

I can't say I haven't missed you these past few months. Hope you're well. I'm getting married today, and you're not here. In a way, I get why you left. But I just wanted to let you know that I wanted you here, just as much Moonie and Harry. Especially him. But you already knew that, didn't you?

With time, I hope he loves me just as much you love him.

Love,

Lisa.

You couldn't stop crying now. You knew that she knew.

#harry one shot #harry angst #harry styles angst #angsty drabble #angsty fic #hq angst #sad and lonely #husband and wife #self love #lovers #i love him #harry smile #harry icons #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harries #harry styles

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jodibodie · 3 years

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I Have Some Feelings

To start let me just emphasize how much I love and adore this show and always will. This was my covid show. Both of my kids loved “Lucifer” and always said I should watch so at the start of covid I binged it and when I say binged, I mean all 4 seasons in a few days and have rewatched so many times I’ve lost count. I think it is timeless, engrossing, original and all around amazing. The writing and the cast were all excellent. The writing was smart and consistently strong and that is so rare. Funny, sad, poignant, it hit all the notes with very few plot holes or missteps. There is not one episode in the entire series that was not engaging. Even if I didn’t like an episode, it was still well done. What a rarity.

The cast is scary good. Completely underrated. Just all phenomenally talented. I don’t remember the last time a cast was this strong. From the core group to both reoccurring and guest stars, the cast was just fantastic.

Tom Ellis, no words. The man deserves to choose whatever he wants to do acting wise. He should have people breaking down his door. He can truly do it all and do it all well. He took a character that if portrayed by a lesser actor could have come off as a complete asshole and made him one of the most sympathetic and loveable characters in recent history. Ellis made a crime solving devil, a promiscuous man-child that occasionally breaks into song and the evidence room into a beloved character that has become an icon.

Lauren German, WOW. She is just so damn good. She can break your heart one second and have you laughing the next. She makes Chloe real, and people don’t realize how hard that is. Chloe is smart, kind, tough and gorgeous but she’s also an insecure dork. She’s us and German just brings it.

DB Woodside I’ve loved since “Buffy”. He is a phenomenal actor and who knew he could bring the laughs so well? His expressions were classic. Clueless angel indeed. Amenadiel could have been very one-dimensional but because of Woodside’s talent he became fully fleshed out and full bodied.

I have no doubt Lesley-Ann Brandt has a huge career in front of her. She took a character that very well could have been hated, a demon and made her into one of the most human characters on the show. Kudos to her for taking a tough role and making it her own.

Kevin Alejandro is another actor I’ve loved for a long time. He also took a character who if we’re going to be honest here did so many unlikeable things that he should have been truly despised but because of Kevin’s portrayal he was beloved. Great actor and a terrific director.

Rachael Harris IMO is the downlow MVP. She was literally the rock and again, with a lesser actress the role could have been a throwaway. The normal human, the sounding board but Harris imbued her with so much more. Her spit takes, sarcasm and her obvious compassion was what made Dr. Linda an unforgettable character. Once again just perfect casting.

Aimee Garcia was a great addition. She made Ella a fan fav and put so much heart, joy and sincerity into Ella never once did you doubt that she would prevail no matter what was thrown at her. Garcia was just fantastic, and I want her skin care regime.

Scarlett Estevez pulled off the one thing I thought almost impossible. She took the role of a young child and made it so I didn’t want to cringe. She portrayed Trixie so beautifully from day one that she was a true pleasure to watch. Even though Trixie was super precocious Estevez never made her obnoxious. I loved Trixie and I have never said that about any child character in an adult show. She was wonderful and has an amazing career in front of her.

That said, I’ve got some feelings now that I’ve seen the finale and have had some time to digest it all. I love that Chloe and Lucifer had eternity and I agree that they had to be separated for Chloe’s lifetime. Didn’t like it but it’s the logical path. She’s human, he’s not. The ageing thing alone necessitated them not being together long term on earth and that’s just to start the list. They had to had to be apart for the short term to get their eternity but the duality of Lucifer's ending and Amenadiel's didn't sit right. Amenadiel as God got to have it all. His calling, his family etc. while Lucifer had to give up everything. I also don’t buy the “If he came up from hell, he could never leave them again” defense. I call bullshit. Amenadiel managed, plus, missing out on the day to day is a huge sacrifice and by Lucifer missing out on the day-to-day Rory could still have had the hatred she needed to drive the story. Popping in for birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc., the big stuff does not a father make. Not being there for skinned knees, first heartbreaks, and all the little things a daughter needs her dad for can build up tons of resentment. Boom, absentee father, just like his dad was. That provides all the millennial angel angst you could ask for. I have a daughter; it doesn’t take much.

The Trixie issue was huge for me. Can Chloe see her in Heaven? Will she be able to travel to Heaven and visit Trixie, Penelope, Dan, her father? Chloe hesitated leaving Heaven in 5x16 because she couldn’t bear saying good-bye to her dad again. It seems as if Chloe sacrificed everything for Rory including Trixie. I want to preface this by saying. I liked Rory and loved the actress. I didn’t however like how it was as if she were their only child. When Lucifer spoke of family Trixie was not mentioned. Their family day, the same thing. She didn’t need to be there, I get that the explanation regarding Rory would have been way too much to get into but just a mention of her, how awesome it would have been to share this day with her would have worked. It seemed as if Lucifer went from, “I would do anything to protect that little Urchin” to “Trixie who”. Trixie was a character that we watched grow up and she meant something to us. I hate to say this, but the writers did Trixie and the viewers dirty in this regard.

This show was built around a few premises. Free will, honesty, redemption, sacrifice and family, both blood and made. The ending completely negated almost all of these. Chloe and their entire family were made into the one thing Lucifer abhorred the most which are liars. Their daughter was brought up surrounded by lies. What did they tell Trixie? The poor kid just lost her dad, and she was pissed at Lucifer when he went back to hell the first time. Did she grow up hating him because as far as she knew Lucifer left her mom again without saying good-bye and this time it was even worse because Chloe was pregnant. I get that the actress who plays Trixie had limited availability but seriously. A quick good-bye.

“Hey Urchin, you won’t understand why for a long time, but I have to leave. You know I never lie so I can’t explain why but know that I love you and your mom and one day I hope you can forgive me.”

A 30 second scene would have worked.

As all the characters learned throughout the series, omission of the truth is just a form of lying and there are always repercussions i.e., Chloe and Father Kinley, Dan shooting Lucifer, Maze finding out about Lilith and even Ella not being told. As far as free will, both Chloe and Lucifer had their free will taken from them in the end. By Rory forcing them to abide by her wishes, their free will was forfeited. It was a huge manipulation on Rory’s part and considering how much Lucifer hated manipulations it just didn’t sit right.

Parents making huge sacrifices I get. Chloe and Lucifer sacrificed everything for their child. Unfortunately for me this sacrifice, the way it was written seemed contrived to pull out maximum and IMO unjustified angst. I love angst. Hell, this is my favorite show. I thrive on the angst. But as I wrote earlier, all the anger, angst and hatred towards Lucifer could have been achieved without having Lucifer completely out of the picture. I have two kids and my husband, and I have made huge life altering sacrifices for them as many parents do but being there for the day-to-day little things was what made the difference in their lives and cemented the close relationships we have with them.

“Yeah, dad you were great. Showing up for the fun stuff, always swooping in for the big finish to play the hero then ditching us when things got tough. When Grandma was dying where were you? Nice that you showed up for the funeral but the six months leading up to it…we needed you and once again you weren’t there. When T got sick, when Jen broke my heart, blah, blah, blah…”

Even the whole Chloe dying scenario. They could have written it that rage Rory traveled minutes before Lucifer got there. Have him pop in right after Rory comes back. There were so many ways to achieve the end game they wanted other than the way they went. It seemed contrived and as if they took the easy way out to get where they needed to go. The Rory rage that was the catalyst for her traveling back in time and Lucifer finding his calling could still have been accomplished without the whole Lucifer disappearing storyline.

Now that I’ve finished my diatribe there’s a couple of additional things I would like to say. Lucifer is and always will be one of my favorite shows of all time. There are not enough words to describe the comfort and enjoyment this show has brought me. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the producers, cast and crew. You truly created something special.

To the fandom. Please do not let a polarizing conclusion rip apart the fandom. The only other fandom I was a part of tore itself apart so badly that the FBI got involved. Hence why I waited for 15 years to dip my toe in again. Everyone invested in this show has the right to their feelings. Debate is fine, baiting and bullying are not. The Lucifer fandom like the show is very special. Without the fandom we wouldn’t have gotten any conclusion so don’t let opposing viewpoints tarnish what has been a magical journey.

#lucifer #season6 #spoilers #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season6 spoilers #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #trixie espinoza #rory morningstar #luciferseason6 #tom ellis #lauren german #db woodside #lesley-ann brandt #rachael harris #kevin alejandro #scarlett estevez #brianna hildebrand

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melxncholymermxid · 2 years

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2021: A Year in Review

I'm normally the last person to toot my own horn and give myself flowers, but I've seen a couple posts about what we all accomplished this year, and I wanna partake.

Early 2021 was rough. A close friend had recently been in a car accident and without a car. I'd been with her at the time and we worked together, so I offered to drive her around. She has kids so it wasn't just work, it was day care, school, groceries, her dates (she had an awful breakup in summer 2020 and she was starting to get over it), smoke seshes (she lived with her mom and without a car had nowhere to smoke and she needed to to be able to eat/sleep/etc), and any other obligations she had. This lead to having issues with getting to work myself, along with burn out and resentment on both ends in our friendship.

We also got two new managers who came from a less busy store and, to be fair to them, had no idea what they were getting into. I slowly became one of the most depended on in my department while simultaneously getting shit from managers who only seemed to notice me when I did something wrong.

I started a new job in May while continuing to stay at my old one. Haven't done that since I was 18 and my new job was EXTREMELY physically demanding. Between the two jobs, stress and little to no free time to eat, I lost quite a bit of weight. I've always had body image issues and the threat gaining it all back if I quit kept me at a work flow that I knew I really couldn't manage.

At my former job there was a posting to work at one of the locations in the Hamptons (an hour ride from where I lived). They offered to pay for travel and to raise the rate up to $18 (I made 15 and had never had a raise in nearly 2 years). This sounded like a great opportunity. The pros were

A break from my toxic store

More money

Change of pace

More freedom at my new store vs my old one

The cons however clearly outweighed them

1hr drive in traffic

Rude tourists and rich people

Still maintaining my 3-4 am job and barely sleeping before going in @12 (leaving at 11)

Working 8-9 hrs an hour away meaning getting home at 10-11 and sleeping 4 hrs before getting up and getting to my job at 3

Doing the hour drive every day, back and forth because my other job was right around the corner from my place

Not seeing my nana enough and feeling neglectful

After starting I learned that the "travel pay" was deducted from the check, and with the increase of income meant more taxes. In the end I think I made less/the same amount of money.

After the summer was over, and being practically begged by my new friends I've bonded with over the past 3/4 months to stay, I went back to my old store that was just as bad, if not worse then when I left. Another new manager and new hires that did not give a fuck (honestly, I get it) that had replaced all but one person from the old crew. When I returned, aside from getting shit from coworkers who looked down on me for leaving them, I was also alone for 6 out of my 8 hours I worked every night, closing alone. This included:

cleaning the entire department: foors, ovens, fryers(multiple times during a shift if the deli manager complained about the smell), all the dishes from the day (including morning crews mess), tables, the rotisserie chicken warmers(3) in the store, dusting the shelves in our department, and whatever else they needed

Doing 5+batches of rotisserie chickens in a small oven because our rotisserie oven was deemed unsafe by our Union and the store wouldn't call maintenance

Making fried chicken and getting a talking to every time it was empty even though it takes 15 minutes to cook and I could only make 4 packages at a time because one of our dryers was also broken

Spitting all of these chickens plus 3 bins for the morning(45 minute job) to use even though I can count on one hand the amount of times that I've walked in to work with full containers

Doing the prep work our full timer didn't get to that morning (even though when I didn't finish everything she was the first one to bring it to a managers attention)

Cooking the afternoon/night hot bar food, which pre-Covid was a 2-3 person job

On top of the stress of doing all of this alone, I was also ALONE, left to my own negative self talk and self deprecating inner monologue. It didn't help that I only got shit from every single one if my superiors

A rude older coworker who I always hear the shit she says about me from other people

A manager who to this day I still believe didn't like me because I'm black

A new manager who was the most disappointed that I left the week before he transferred to run our shit hole of a department

And multiple upper management who didn't understand how I couldn't handle the jobs of 3 people by myself

After two weeks of being back and already losing my second job, I quit. I was jobless for the first time in over two years. I was 23, an adult, and had nothing to show for it.

I live with my nana because my mother spent the first 20 years of my life being emotionally neglectful and abusive. After moving out 3/4 years prior, she's had a lot of shitty circumstances and even tho our relationship has gotten better, I've carried around guilt of leaving her a year or two after my dad left.

Late 2020 was awful in terms of my body image, sexuality, romantic/sexual relationships. I swore off the possibility of a love life; coupled with the burn out of early 2021 I started to enter my ✨nothing matters✨ phase.

Why was I killing myself working? What future was investing in?

The only positive I could cling onto is that I had saved enough to take a break from the work force. I decided to use my time to look and see what the community college was offering. Seeing as there were plenty of courses that had late registration, I enrolled and started a pharmacy technician program. I was going back to school.

As difficult as it's been to return to a school environment after 6 years of mental burnout from work and adjusting to online schooling, it's the best decision I've ever made. The program only takes a year and sets you up with a job after you complete the course and qualify for the cert exam.

Through the school I'm actually able to get mental health counseling for the first time in my life. I believe in therapy and medicine, but I never believed it would work for me. Somehow my suffering was so unique, I was beyond help. Obviously I'm not "cured", my depression didn't disappear overnight, but just talking to someone once a week who I know is there to help and not judge has made a huge difference.

I also was able to qualify for health insurance, and I have a whole bunch of doctor appointments set up after the new year.

In conclusion (gd this is so long), in the year where day-to-day I felt the least in control and on the right path, looking back now I realize even though its not easy, and there's a lot of work I'm not used to anymore, I am on the right path.

As someone who is incapable of setting long term goals on my own, school gives me a feasible, time constrained goal to work towards, and just a week ago I took a midterm and got the highest grade in my class.

As someone who has felt needy and stupid and wrong my entire life, I can now see a professional and have learned that I, as a person am okay, and everything I've deemed a weakness is just a response to the trauma I didn't believe I had. My anxieties and so many things I'm insecure about are coping mechanisms my childhood self needed in order to survive on my own mentally and emotionally while I was physically being depended upon by my parents to act as a third parent my whole life.

I had a breakthrough the other day regarding my pessimistic, existentialist attitude towards life and also my relationship with myself.

My self hate is rooted in the envy of what I believe I should be and my high expectations that I hold not only myself to but others as well. I'm far more judgemental of others than I previously thought. As someone who prides themselves on being kind and people pleasing and just being a non confrontational person by nature, this all trickles down and concentrates in how I feel about and regard myself.

The person that I hate isn't me, it's the version of myself I've always aspired to. Yet the person who deals with this hate is my inner child. I'm currently very detached from my physical state rn, seeing as I don't know much about her, but I know my inner child.

I know 4 year old me that had to adjust to no longer being the only child.

I know the 8 year old me who blocked out the fact that my dad repeatedly left my mother to raise me and my siblings on her own, on and off for most my entire childhood.

I know 11 year old me who was depressed, going through puberty and was constantly othered in middle school. The 11 year old who just wanted to feel pretty and wanted and had unmonitored internet access and talked to any adult man who wanted to talk to, and SEE, me.

I know 12 year old me who only felt release and control when seeing blood stain my sleeves with holes in the thumb. And later, the 12 year old who was caught and promised that she would start to be listened to and cared about more.

The 13 year old got used to promises not being kept.

15 year old me had to adjust to new people in a new state. She was warned since she started school that we would always move, but after 11 years of knowing everything she experienced was temporary, she had no idea how to "settle in".

16 year old me had a father leave home for the final time. And after mourning the lost of a parent, had to unlearn everything she knew about her favorite parent. While he was there emotionally, when he was there, he was probably the #1 factor in my mom hating her life and not being able to express her love for us properly. I thought for years that she fucking hated me, only to realize she didn't know how and couldn't afford to get help. And the 1st man I ever cared about turned out to be a cheating deadbeat who had no issue leaving the woman he used to love and 4 kids he still convinces himself that he does love to go see family who never really fucked with us like that. He got to have a girlfriend or two and travel while my mom looked for love in anyone who would offer, in return for a place to stay.

17 year old me graduated and became the only parental figure to a 2 year old step brother that her mother and abuser then-husband were too busy to give a shit about. Then I was finally able to get a job, through a very gracious gift from my nana that I couldn't even truly enjoy because mother used to resent me for my relationship with my nana.

I never got to experience a stable childhood, and because of the failings of adults before me I'm fighting an uphill battle. But for all these iterations of me, adult me has to step up. I can't be another adult who let's them down.

I think I've never felt ready, and possibly will never feel ready, for kids is because I've got plenty to handle already.

Not so much a resolution, but some semblance of motivation for 2022 and onwards:

Whether it's work/school related, fitness related, mental health related, etc. I'm not just doing it for me. I'm doing it for the child who had to do everything herself and then some.

Sorry about the long post, if you made it this far thank you, I love you. Have a happy new year 💓

#long post #trauma dump #2021 recap #new years resolutions #inner child work #burnout #depression #anxiety #therapy #college #life update

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literaryfic · 3 years

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singer!cha-young & violonist!vincenzo au pt.1

don’t ask me why. i have no answer for you okay.

cha-young starts her career when she’s 5, appearing in a yogurt commercial. she’s not exactly a cute child, but she’s enthusiastic and disciplined.

her dad, the retired leader of a rock band who had a few hit songs in the 80s, is the one who introduces her to music.

she learns the piano & the guitar and takes singing lesson. her childhood is guided by auditions and music classes.

when she’s 12, a big agency contacts her and she signs a trainee contract with them. her dad is against it, but her mom and her win him over. she’ll be careful, they’ll look after her.

she starts training after school everyday, on the weekends too. she’s not really good at dance and she gets in trouble a lot but she’s the best singer in her age group, which makes up for it.

time passes by and the company starts to ask her to lose weight. her dance teacher comments on how big her thighs are. she’s asked if she ever thought about a nose job, or an eye surgery. those things happen a lot, and if she wants a sit at the big table, she’ll need to make some decisions.

her parents disagree, of course, but then her mother falls ill. she has to stop working and money becomes scarce. cha-young doesn’t want to bother them with her insignificant issues and so she starts a diet without any of them noticing. she needs to be thinner, maybe she’ll win a scholarship and her dad won’t need to work two jobs anymore.

her dad comes home drunk most nights, as if the sight of her mother made him sick. she was dying and her husband couldn’t even look at her anymore. cha-young doesn’t know who she hates more: her dad or herself for wishing she could escape home the same way he did every night.

her mom dies when she’s 15 and she stops taking lessons. she quits the company after a while too. she wins a scholarship for a good arts high school, known to hone musical talents. she meets new friends there, ones who don’t care about her proportions or her eyelids, and she’s happy in school.

her dad and her starts to argue more and more, until they stop talking. she fills the silence in her empty house with the music she writes.

after she graduates high school, she works two jobs to pay her way through college. all of her spare time is used composing, writing lyrics, singing. she posts covers on YouTube and she starts to gain some followers.

it’s not enough to make money but an independent label that’s been on the rise notices her. she signs with them after reading the contract carefully, when she’s 19. she choses her stage name, NOVA.

her first album is out by the time she’s 20 and she starts appearing on tv. her second album at 23 is her big break. her first hit song “Alone With You”, an upbeat tune contrasted by sad lyrics, stays on top of the charts for weeks, owing her the nickname of “monster rookie”.

people soon start to discover her easy-going, bubbly yet blunt personality and she starts going on more variety shows.

she’s loved and she’s found her sound, profound lyrics with innovative instrumentals, she plays with genres and concepts often, keeping her image fresh.

at 30, she’s one of the biggest South Korean solo act. she tours the world, sells album, holds events for her fans, travels. she doesn’t have to think about money anymore. she lives in a luxurious apartment in the centre of Seoul.

she’s learned that not everyone is going to love her. she’s used to dealing with virulent anti-fans, stalkers and paparazzi.

she has everything her 15 year old self dreamt of, an amazing career and devoted fans, a name people recognise and a wardrobe bigger than their previous living room. yet, she can’t seem to fill the emptiness inside of her.

she calls her dad once a year, for the new year. he still lives in their old house, refusing to move into the one she bought just for him. he teaches guitar to kids at the community center in their neighbourhood. her anger doesn’t seem to fade with the years.

she almost looses everything when her assistant, jung jun woo, leaks the fact that she’s had an abortion after she rejects him.

she’d been dating an actor a few years ago, and they had had an accident. she’d noticed too late that she missed her period since it was irregular and had to get an abortion. she didn’t think any of it now, there’s nothing wrong with a woman making this choice and she wasn’t ready to become a mother. she’d never once regretted it in the past.

however, South Korea’s entertainment industry was not a kind one, and a news like that would destroy her clean, quirky girl-next-door image she’d built over the years. and it did.

she’d never expected jun woo to betray her. he was part of her management team, one of her assistants. he’d always been cute if not a little clingy.

he’d confessed his feelings for her a few weeks back, claiming that he knew they were made for each other and that he would do everything for her and she’d laughed in his face. she hadn’t meant to sound mean or insensitive, she had thought it was a prank he was pulling on her.

turns out it wasn’t, and he had leaked this “abortion gate” to dispatch to get get back at her.

her label had released a vague statement, about “a difficult time in her life”, urging people to stop looking into “her private medical history”.

trashy tabloids and online blogs had had a field day. some people even started a petition to remove her from the industry. the news quickly turned into a social discourse when feminist orgs stood up for her. everyone was talking about it, some claiming she was a slut, others turning her into a symbol for women’s rights.

she felt like neither, it had been too long since she’d gotten some to qualify as a slut, and her label would have never let her discuss politics publicly.

she’d lost dozens of endorsements and deals and had officially decided to “focus on her health away from the spotlight” for a while (another statement from her label)

officially on her first hiatus ever, cha-young was lost. every time she tried to write, nothing came out. it would’ve been the perfect time to work on a new album but it seemed nothing worked in her favour as of late.

it’s 6 am when her father calls her. the last she’d heard of him was when the scandal broke out and he’d sent a vague supportive message to which she had responded “thanks, dad”. it was unusual for him to call, especially so early (or late).

she picks up the phone the second times he calls. “hello?” “hello, do you know the owner of this phone?” the man on the other side of the line is definitely not her father and he sounds rather annoyed. “yes, i’m this person’s daughter.” “great, can you come pick him up from my hotel room?” “your hotel room? is he okay?” “he should be. we drank too much and i have to vacate the room before 8. can you come or not?” “yes.” “I’ll text you the address from his phone.” is the last thing he says before hanging up. what a rude man.

why was her father drunk in hotel room with this rude stranger and why was she the one having to pick him up?

she doesn’t want to wake up her manager at this hour, and so she decides to go on her own. the hotel isn’t too far, a mere 15 minute drive, and soon enough she’s knocking on the door of a very expensive hotel suit, definitely not what one of her father’s friends could afford. who the hell was this guy?

she definitely did not expect Vincenzo Cassano, renowned world class violinist, to be the one opening the door.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #chayenzo au #chayenzo fic #chayenzo hc #basically #famous!chayenzo

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imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

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Her Majesty || 18

Queen

April 15th

Morning discovered me hours ago when Harry's alarm trumpeted through the room, and he forced himself out of bed. Since four o'clock this morning, I have been in and out of sleep. If I am honest, I don't want to take on the day. I have been dreading this day for years, and quite frankly, have been praying it would never come – but I was ill-prepared for how quickly it snuck up on me. But here I am, on the warm side of my bed, longing for my past self as Princess Anastasia but having to remind myself of my new title as Queen.

"What is the Queen going to do on her first day as Queen? What's the first order?" Harry softly requests, and I raise my brow as I convene up against the pillows and cock my head to the side.

I want to spend my day in bed and wrap my head around things.

"What is the King's first order?" I respond with a hint of sarcasm laced to my tone.

Harry elevates his beverage to his lips and shrugs, "I am on my third coffee, and my duties are to keep the palace safe, the same as any other day," Harry responds, not appearing to be phased by the fact that he has a title.

"You do realise that even by telling everyone that I would be king, I cannot be King, Anna."

"You do realise that I make the rules, right?"

Harry laments, "A King has a higher power over Queen. Therefore, I do not have the right to be over you, Anastasia. Therefore, I cannot be titled, King."

I roll my eyes, "We can have this conversation later. I am going back to sleep."

"No, you are not," Harry returns as I settle into the bed and draw the blankets to shelter around my body. "Anastasia, you have a strict itinerary that you have to stick to, which means your ladies will be up here in ten minutes."

I stare at Harry and groan, "Did I forget to ask to sleep in?" I could have sworn that being Queen didn't come with an obligation to be awake at the crack of dawn.

"Well, I did ask the bagpipes from a piper just below the terrace to be put on hold until seven, darling," Harry notifies me.

"And what time is it now?" I request.

Harry smirks, and I moan as he glances at his watch before flicking his eyes towards me. That damn smirk gives it away.

I wait a few moments, and the bagpipes commence their morning routine. Every morning at around six, I am awakened by the Piper's sounds to the Sovereign if I am not already awake. My father resented it, but he kept it around, not only because it is part of the Royal arrangements but because my mother appeared to love the morning wake up calls. Most of the wakeup sequences were at six, but my father extended it to nine in certain months. Of course, it depended on what was transpiring in the royal world.

The Piper's principal responsibility is to play every weekday at six or nine am for approximately 15 minutes under His Majesty's window when he is in residence at Buckingham Palace. Now that I am Her Majesty, they play for me, under my terrace. I don't want to remove the pipers, essentially because it is a tradition, but I will be damned to be woken up every morning with them under my terrace at six in the morning.

"Thanks for the hour," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Can you please request that the time is changed from six? I prefer not to hear them until at least ten, perhaps eleven?" I softly beam, doing my ablest to appreciate the art of the bagpipes.

Harry steps closer and hands me his coffee before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I don't think they will appreciate playing so late."

"Nine?" I suggest, "I think that is fair."

"I think that is fair," Harry nods his head, and I take a few sips of his warm coffee.

"Could you make this any stronger?" I chuckle, taken back by the intensity of his coffee.

Harry shrugs his shoulder, "At least I didn't add bourbon to it this morning," Harry sarcastically smiles.

I hand Harry his coffee back with another stifled laugh escaping my lips. I know that he adds a little alcohol to his coffee some days towards the ends of his shifts, especially if they have been excessive and problematic. "What do you have today?" I softly ask while we have a few extra minutes alone.

Harry steps away from the bed and tells me what he has planned for his day. My head cocks to the side as he stands in front of me, everything about him causing me to smile and swoon over him.

Harry is incredibly handsome and never fails to find me between shifts to give me a few minutes of his short time. This man with dewy, mist valley-green eyes, lush hair he grooms so carefully that has a rippling quality, is a man that I thank the heavens for every day. The last few months have been horrible and heartbreaking, there are still days where I have no clue how the fuck I am going to survive the journey without my father, but Harry always makes sure to make it known that he is right beside me through everything.

Harry is a man that holds my heart in his golden hands and cherishes it, he has every opportunity to throw it to the wall and walk out, but he doesn't. He has managed to survive the horrible honeymoon phase. Our honeymoon phase hasn't been what it was meant to be; it has been emotional crying, it has been painful, sad, and full of anger all in one.

The man in front of me is dashing with a rascal's smile and worked his magic to give me what was rightfully mine, he didn't pride himself on running the monarch for a short time, and he didn't try to keep the authority that he had. The man that stands in front of me is an exceptional husband; I couldn't have asked for anyone better, and one day, he will be a great father to our children if we ever have children. This man is an influence on society, and I am lucky to have him.

Harry waves his hands in front of me, "Anna? Baby, are you listening?" Harry questions, snapping me from my daze.

I take a breath and smile at him, "Yeah," I lie through my teeth, and Harry shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You're shocking at lying."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug and push the covers off my body. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and step towards Harry. I kiss him sweetly before pulling away and smiling. "What was that for?"

I offer him nothing but a small smile and dreamy eyes that can't peel themselves away from him.

"Mmm, I need to get back to work," Harry changes the subject as two of my lady in waiting's walk-in. "See you later," Harry kisses me softly, becoming rigid as he clears his throat and notices the ladies looking at the two of us. Harry doesn't feel comfortable with PDA in front of the staff and is still unsure how to act. It's humorous to a certain extent. He hated hiding the relationship, and now he doesn't know what to do now that he doesn't have to hide anything.

I reach for his hand as he steps away. Harry stops and looks over his shoulder before turning back around to face me, "What is it?" he softly asks. My eyes glance between him and his coffee in his hand. Harry rolls his eyes and hands me his coffee, "You're lucky I love you, my darling," Harry grins, "Now, goodbye," he begins to walk away, leaving me with the rest of his coffee and my staff.

I chuckle as the ladies watch him leave, swooning over him in the same manner I do. "You're lucky," one begins as she holds a few dresses across her arms.

"I know," I smile, well aware of how lucky I am. "What do I have the pleasure of wearing today?" I question, looking at the dresses, giving the ladies full reign of what they dress me in as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

♛ ♛ ♛

When I was a little girl, I filled my time prowling the hallways of the various estates we have, all of which had their unique quality. To this day, my favourite place is in Northern Ireland, Hillsborough Castle. I allocated ampere-hours in the gardens, playing hide and seek with the assistants and the bodyguards, countless hours picking wildflowers and chasing butterflies. I would do anything to go back to the days where life was simple, where all I had to think about was which flowers I desired to plant when I wasn't learning about the world and learning to speak different languages.

I remember one spring, Dad brought me to Hillsborough Castle; he and his staff purchased various flowers and shrubs I had picked out one day, we went through a magazine. We later spent that weekend planting the array of plants. Somehow, my father discovered a way to make everything match and look colour coordinated. I wasn't much assistance in the garden, I dug a few holes with my little shovel and helped water the plants, but he and his staff did most of the dirty work. It was when things were manageable, when we could be a family without anyone torturing my father. Perhaps back then, things weren't as simple as I assume, and maybe I was naive, but in my memories, things were simple.

We were happy.

Unfortunately, I can't travel to Hillsborough Castle and attain my peace, and I can't proceed to where I have always been satisfied. Right now, travelling too far is out of the question for safety reasons. Madeline can't fly back home to her family because of safety concerns. If I could, I would love to discover myself in rolling hills and grassland, where it appears neverending. I would love to advance to the countryside, to view the sunset over a meadow and gather nothing but the harmony of nature when the sun submerges into darkness. Harry's mother's home was calm and serene. There were no sounds of cars continually driving around, no people standing outside my place of residence daily, and no staff. It was normal- something I crave but can't possess. I wish I could be out feeding the baby animals and savouring life in the slow lane like I did the few times I have been up there.

I necessitate a scenery change, but I am unsure where the scenery change can occur when I am not authorised to travel. I still think running to Greece and changing our identities is a superb idea, but there is no way in hell I can convince Harry into the concept. Harry has expressed how ludicrous the idea is and logically explained to me the reasons why it is not happening. I think we would be fine with mundane duties and living in Greece. At least we wouldn't have Pippa around to pester the shit out of us. That woman is relentless; she has not given up on her notion of expressing how incompetent I am to be Queen.

What I want is for us to be happy without doubt lingering around us. I don't want the fear to continue to gloom over me. As strict as the palace is and the fact people are constantly watching, I am still concerned. Before my father's passing, I was carefree. I used to wander the halls' without much thought, but now I struggle to step outside my room without the second thought of whether something could happen.

I do not have proof of who killed my father, all I have is my suspicion, and I am convinced that these same people will come after me or, worse, Harry.

The media have attracted attention to Harry and me. The night on the balcony, as expected, drew attention to us, but in my lapse of judgment, I wasn't considering how this could affect him. He is now another target. If the Aces, whoever they may be, are still out for blood, their next bet would be him. In the mind of someone who wants revenge, money or really anything, they will go for the person who has the most impact. If they take out Harry, one less person will protect me before taking me out unless we comply with their requests. With each day that has passed since my father, I have waited for some request from this unknown group of people. I have waited for a phone call or a letter with their demands, but I have not received a single thing.

When I stayed at Harry's mother's, there were letters sent to her house addressed to myself and Harry; what happened after that night, I do not know. Harry said he would take care of it, and nothing has appeared since. After that night, I stopped looking into things and having Harry followed. I knew that he was right- some things are better left unknown. How Harry handles situations is not of my concern. Harry has his job, and I have mine. He does not tell me how to be a Royal, and I do not tell him how to do what he has to do. I know his field of work has gotten very messy over the last few months. He has done things he never imagined he would have to do.

The door to my office opens, distracting me from my daze of thoughts that have been accompanying me most of the day. Harry steps into the palace office and closes the door behind him, intentionally shutting the door on the people accompanying him. "Anna," Harry begins as he shuffles closer to the desk, he gestures between us and the door and shakes his head, "I have a man trying to measure me for clothes, a woman with an iPad wanting to be my assistant, and I have a man holding a fruit platter… Make it stop, please." Harry breathes out softly, "I appreciate their efforts, but I don't need an assistant. I can do my job."

"Fruit Platter? That is better service than me," I snicker.

"Sweetheart, I am highly frustrated with it." But, unfortunately, Harry doesn't recognise my humour or appear amused by the events.

"I will ask them to tone it down. Call them in," I instruct, gesturing towards the door.

"Surprised they can't hear us and just walk on in," Harry murmurs, advancing towards the door and unlocking it, allowing his array of followers to wander into the office.

The staff stand in front of me in a line, almost as if they are aware of what the conversation will hold. "I know you all have good intentions, but His Highness doesn't want to be followed, if he needs something, he will ask, but he doesn't need the extent of these privileges as my father did. Harry will let you know when and if he needs something. He is very low maintenance…" I graciously explain, "Mike, when he has the time, you can talk to him about suites and what he wants. Estelle, Harry doesn't want an assistant; Matthew takes care of everything. If Harry needs any help, he will ask," I direct each issue head-on, doing my best to be respectful, "And Luke, Harry doesn't need you to follow him with food unless asked; he will make his coffee when he wakes up. He takes a coffee at seven, he will ask you if he needs anything else, give him coffee, and you will be his best pal. He appreciates it, but he likes to be left to his own devices." ... "Think of him as a lone wolf, he was under the radar before marrying me, and he likes to stay that way."

Mike clears his throat and nods, "All due respect, your mother put us on his service."

"You can be on his service. Just keep a distance, thank you," I dismiss the humble team, and they all shuffle out gradually before shutting the door behind them.

"Rough first day?" I chuckle, and he leans on my desk and crosses his arms over his chest while he nods his head. "I just want to do my job, Anna."

"Well, honey, your job isn't just security anymore."

"It is," Harry disagrees.

I know the transition is going to be incredibly rough. He has gone from being security to being a husband to being a quiet King to becoming second to the throne and being waited on by the staff. I don't expect him to attend charity events, cut ribbons and be a royal member. But, on the other hand, I don't anticipate him to give up being security and guarding the palace, but I am not sure how it will operate with him being on my service.

"You know you will need security, Harry?"

"Anna, Matthew and I have it sorted out. Can we discuss something else?"

"Every Thursday, we don't have royal duties. Instead, we have family dinner with my mother," I inform Harry, "And I'd like us to commit to one day a week where it's just you and me even if it's just an hour."

Harry nods his head, "Of course, Anna."

"And we need to find our charities and volunteer work."

"Sure, I'll show kids how to run a security detail team."

"Harry," I press, "I'm serious."

"We can call it Harry's boys and girls' scouts, just without pitching a tent. Instead, I'll show them how to hogtie a person and keep people safe."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not."

Harry stares at me with a straight face, "I am not joking."

"Christ," I mutter, "How are we going to survive ruling a monarch."

Harry elevates his shoulders into a shrug, "I am just here for the ride, but I need to go over protocols and security things with you," Harry changes the subject, taking my ink pen from my hand and shifting the paperwork in front of me away from my body.

"I was working on that," I declare as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, now mimicking his position.

Harry nods his head and places my pen in his breast pocket, "Right, so we need to have an unwritten understanding. When security says 'we are leaving', it means just that." Harry notifies me, already prompting me to roll my eyes.

"Just because my title changed doesn't mean I forgot the protocol."

Harry hums, "You need to redo your security training."… "You need to do your SAS training; you have a refresher course to do." Harry reminds me of what feels like the hundredth time.

I just have no desire to do the damn course.

"Will you be my teacher?" I smirk.

Harry sighs, "The tunnels are off-limits for the next few days."

"Oh, damn, now how I will be a product of any illegal activity? How will I escape the palace?" I sarcastically respond.

I have no intentions of escaping through the tunnels or causing any dilemmas; for the most part, I am emotionally stable and know that I cannot go off and get drunk because life as a royal isn't enjoyable.

"Princess—"

"Ah, no," I cut Harry off, "Wrong title, and don't even try to refer to me as my title. You know I hate it."

"And I hate when you make my job troublesome, which you are doing," Harry points as he gestures towards me, "Security is heightened. I need you to at least pretend to care."

"Fine," I mutter, "You're such an ass when you're the security detail."

"Anna, just get your training done with Matthew at the very least."

He is getting frustrated with me. I can tell by the way he is clenching his jaw and tapping his shoe against the flooring. He means well, but the training is a pain in my ass.

Why should we stage a kidnapping and show me how to handle the situation when if we wait long enough, it will happen?

Nothing surprises me with this monarchy. I wouldn't be surprised if Pippa tied me up, forced me in the back of her car and drove me across Europe before abandoning me in the middle of nowhere. After my father's incident, nothing is really off the table in terms of events that could take place. No amount of training saved my father.

"I will," I accept, leaning forward and standing to my feet before I encase my arms around his neck, "You need to relax," I inform him, his arms dropping to his side before his hands rest in the small of my back, enabling me to stand between his legs and bring our bodies closer. I give him a small smile. Then, I kiss him softly and leisurely.

"Easier said than done," Harry murmurs against my lips. I cut him off and kiss him more profoundly, not wanting his words but his affection.

He draws away with a sigh, "I have to be on your mother's service in a few minutes."

Mood killer.

Blinking with feigned innocence, I whisper, "Oh, come on," taking a chance and moving to caress the tender skin on his neck with sweet kisses. He cocks his head to the side, enabling me to kiss his fevered skin, my hands pursuing their way to the buttons of his shirt. Finally, my fingers touch the material of his tie, and I tug on it benevolently.

His tie unravels between my fingertips, and he moans softly when I introduce my kisses to his jawline, gingerly making my way to his lips. Aching tension between the two of us builds with a gentle persuasion of my kisses.

Harry breaths heavily, and his hands squeeze at my waist with a sense of frustration laced to them. Then, with a long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through us, his fingers dig into the material of my shirt.

Unchaining wild, delicious feelings brew inside me, eagerly demanding to escape with every moment that passes by. I feel him pull me closer, the tension at the edge of his fingertips kneading into the material.

I press my body against him, his fingers bunching my shirt even further, "Anastasia, we can't," Harry breaks our kiss with a whisper, putting space between us. He softens his eyes and shakes his head, "We are being watched," Harry breathes, "Camera's aren't cut to this room."

"Cut them, please?"

"I can't… How about later?"

I roll my eyes, irritated with him, "No."

Harry chuckles and begins to adjust his tie, clearing his throat, "I don't think you want the rest of the team watching… I get off at nine tonight. Wait up for me?"

"I think one of my executive orders as Queen is that we no longer have to schedule these things." I gesture towards the small space between us. "I'm tired of it."

It has been a hassle to get alone time with him for quite some time, and there's always something happening or someone interrupting.

"Take it up with security."

"You are security." I point out, irritarted to say the least.

"Well," Harry laughs, "I will have to have a code word with Matthew for when to cut the surveillance."

"Yeah, you get on that," I respond, taking my pen out of his pocket and sitting back down on my chair. "Can I ask you something?" I softly ask.

Harry narrows his eyes down on me, "Not sure I like the sound of this, but sure," Harry nods his head.

"This is private," I inform him.

"You can speak; nobody can hear us. They can just see us," Harry flicks his head to his side, subtly gesturing towards the hidden camera in the painting over the fireplace.

I compose myself for a moment before I take a leap of faith, "What happened with Victoria?"

"Uhm, she died?" Harry is confused.

"No, I mean the story."

I want to know the story he managed to spin to the press. I know he tends to release stories when he can’t get the Palace social media team involved.

"She was found. Louis got the coroner report back, and it was a snake bite. Unfortunately, she chose the wrong day to go hiking," Harry responds with a shrug.

"And Henry?"

Harry takes a breath and heavily sighs, "Do you not read the tabloids?" Harry sighs. I can tell that he doesn’t want to have this conversation by the way his jaw clenched and he looked around in an attempt to gain a moment to find an excuse.

"I have not been in the mood to read what the media has to say," I respond.

"Henry... He passed in his sleep peacefully."

"And what happened after the private funeral?" I question, unsure of what happened after the service took place. Against everyone's wishes, I insisted he was given a service, whether he deserved it or not for the events that took place. I didn't want everyone to be heartless. My father wouldn't have wanted such a thing.

"We all went our separate ways, you went to the room, and I went back to work?"

"No, with him. Where is he?"

"Oh," Harry sounds, "That, I cannot tell you."

I cock my head to the side, "You cannot tell me where he was laid to rest?" I am surprised.

Harry shakes his head, "No, I cannot."

"What about the rest of the Aces' like Henry's Dad?"

"Anna, I have a lot of people I am trying to track, just like I have a lot of things I need to do. I can't answer these questions. I need to go though." Harry politely dismisses the conversation.

As much as I want to press further and ask questions for my peace of mind, I know that now isn't the time or the place. "Be careful, okay?"

"Always," Harry nods before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I love you and stay out of trouble while I am gone."

"No promises," I respond with a smile before he walks out, leaving me alone in the office where most major royal documents are signed.

This office has been used for many years by my father. It has been the places he has signed checks, and he has signed Royal assents— this room has been used for an array of different monumental things, and as I sit here in this room, I can't help but feel a weight on my shoulder intensify. I don't feel at ease as my pen glides across the paper and I sign my name across the lines; I don't feel this task is taken lightly. This office is the starting to place to the world as we know it, this room is where things begin, and as my reign begins, I am not sure my confidence starts here.

Being in the same office my father once sat in, I thought I would feel at ease and feel comfort— I don't. I feel the opposite. My world feels suffocated and anxious. This simple task of signing the lines makes me question my power. What I am doing today is a mandatory and straightforward procedure, it is nothing significant in the sense of signing a new Royal assent or signing the rights of dubbing a fresh Prince or Knight, but it feels as though it is a big deal.

I thought my mother would play a more significant role on my first day. I thought she would be with me to sign these documents and figure out what I am meant to do. But, instead, she seems to be doing her own thing. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a part of things, and the monarch has impacted her more than she would like to admit. To an extent, I think the monarch helped kill her spirits, especially in the last few months with what has been happening. My mother was nice enough to team with Harry to give me what was rightfully mine. Still, I expected to have some help from her— Mother has some insight into things, watched my father run the monarch for years, and knows a few things that I may not have caught onto, but she doesn't want to be a part of it. I have no clue where she is going.

All I know is that Harry is on her service.

♛ ♛ ♛

April 21st

Sitting in my office and staring at the four walls for days' led me to escape into the gardens to get some fresh air. Harry will kill me for coming out here without anyone with me, but I need some space. I am not surviving. I have had multiple meetings with influential people I do not know how to accommodate. I don't know why I am being thrown full force into this. I was hoping for a lighter transition, but that has been far from the case. I cannot keep up with everything. I don't know how my father managed.

The gardens are peaceful and quiet. They have always left me with a sense of calmness. No matter what is happening in my life, walking these gardens gives me a sense of hope. The gardens are blooming later than usual, but the Rhododendrons and Camellias are beginning to bloom.

I take a deep breath in the fresh air and stop wandering as I reach one of the many trees full of pink blossoms. It's breathtaking. The blossom trees leave me in awe every spring. I don't know how the gardeners keep the 39-acre garden at Buckingham Palace looking as unique as it does; everything is immaculate.

Spring-flowering trees are spread throughout the garden, but some areas are more than others. One of my favourite trails is the Queen's Walk. The walk has a vibrant display of trees and camellias. However, I am not sure what it is about the trek that excites me and brings me happiness. I am not sure if it's the outburst of assorted colours or just the quietness and the sound of nature humming.

There are more than two hundred several flowers in the gardens, varying from single flowers to frothy, peony-like efflorescences. There is a touch of everything within the gardens, and everything flows excellently. I bend down and caress my hand delicately to brush against the Blue lilacs that symbolise happiness and tranquillity, something I am longing to feel at the edge of my fingertips. I glance towards the Magenta lilacs and smile to myself, inhaling their scent and deep meaning of love and passion. The firm, sweet, heady scent of the lilacs lingers, and I stand back up, wandering away from the lilacs, leaving them to bloom on their own.

As I walk the small trail, I regard a man who appears out of place. He doesn't seem to belong here in the gardens. Nobody should be out here besides the groundskeepers, the horse trainer or security. The gardens at this time of day are not bustling with staff or anyone. They're withdrawn, which is why I prefer to wander out here. At first, I believe the worst, but my heart rate decreases and my stomach settles as soon as I notice the royal tour guide pamphlet hanging out of his pocket.

"Can I help you?" I challenge from behind, startling the man who seems to be heading towards what we call 'The island within the lake'.

Nobody goes towards the little lake; it is off-limits to most to help maintain its natural environment. I have been out there on a few occasions. It's a beautiful view, something I have always loved, but we keep it off-limits for the wildlife that is out there. We aren't one-hundred per cent on everything in the acres, but we know there is danger. My father told me a story about one of the purple flowers out there. He says it can kill someone in seconds. The poison within the purple flower is vital, so strong that years ago, dipping an arrowhead in the plant would guarantee death to anything it hits. This is how it got the nickname of "wolves bane", as it was used on arrowheads to hunt wolves to ensure they died. As scary as it sounds, it fascinated me. I am not sure how they figured out years ago that dipping an arrow would ensure death. I can only imagine someone came across the wolves bane on accident and used it for their advantage.

The unknown man turns around, and I take in his features, but what catches my eye the most is his button-down shirt. I follow the length of his arms and rest on the edge of his shirt.

"I uh- I have lost my group," the man responds, promptly curtseying as he notices who I am.

The man holds his hand out, prompting me to shake his hand. I stare at the cufflinks on his button-down, intrigued by them. I would expect to see these sorts of cufflinks in vegas or at a place where card games are a fortay, not at a palace and on an ordinary man. One cufflink features a Jack, King, and Queen and the other cufflink features three Aces in a foldable card deck. They're not the ordinary cufflinks, perhaps he is some sort of magician, or he just really likes cards. Who knows?

"Do I pique your interest, Princess?"

I shake my head, letting go of his hand, "I've never seen those kinds of cufflinks."

The man nods his head, his eyes flicking down to his cufflinks, "You never know when you'll need an Ace up your sleeve," the man smiles, seeming mysterious but pleasant in the same manner, "I'll let you be, Princess. Can you direct me back to my crew?"

"You will not be able to get back into the Palace; I will take you," I respond, gesturing along the stone path before I begin to walk towards the palace. “I hope you didn’t touch or pick any flowers,” I comment, noticing the pollen stain at the edge of his white shirt. Of course, I expect children to want to touch and pick the flowers, but not a grown man.

The man shakes his head, and his eyes dart around. A clear indication is lying. I know he picked some of the Lillies; I can see precisely where he snatched them from. I don’t say anything; instead, I change the subject. "So, you got lost in the gardens?"

"Yes, I had stopped to check my phone; I have been expecting a call from a family member; I and when I looked back up, I was alone and standing in the middle of a garden," The man explains, "Quite embarrassing to get lost on a guided tour. I am surprised guards didn't cease me."

“I would be concerned about the gaggle of geese wandering around the fields. They get mean. I'd highly suggest for you not to lose your tour group," I half-smile, unsure of how the tour group left him behind, but it does happen. I remember one occasion where a little kid decided to play hide and seek within the palace. He snuck off from the tour and found himself in the dining hall. It was quite a chaotic mess. I am sure there was some sort of protocol to follow. Harry was the one who found the kid and called off the protocol. He didn't fully tell me about the day, but he briefly explained that it was hectic trying to lock half a palace down to find a lost tourist hiding amongst the furniture.

"I don't intend to. But, again, I am sorry for the inconvenience."

"It is okay," I shake my head, trying to be reassuring despite him trying to hide the fact he took a few Lillies.

Mistakes happen, it is easy to get lost at the palace, hence why there is a tour guide, but I assume I need to find a new guide since this group lost a man. I glide my fingers over the touch system that opens the doors through fingerprint and a unique key.

I push the door open and allow the man inside the palace, "Your tour group is right up there," I flick my head towards the small area at the end of the hallway. I can hear the tour guide talking about one room containing a magnificent array of paintings by Rubens, Van Dyck and Canaletto.

The man clears his throat and politely nods before hurrying down the hallway, where I watch him join the group of tourists who are more fascinated with the paintings than with me. A little girl notices me and waves. I smile and wave back.

I watch the small group for a while, mainly watching the man who seems to settle into the group and fit in. I smile to myself, happy to have helped a lost soul wandering the palace before I turn around. I gasp and put my hand over my chest, "Christ, you can't do that," I sigh, catching my breath as Harry stands in front of me with barely an inch of space between us, "Any closer and you'd have been on top of me." I press my hands to his chest.

"Have I not taught you to be aware of your surroundings?"

"I was," I respond, clearly lying. I know exactly what he is going to allude to. If I were aware of my surroundings, I would have been aware of how close he was to me. I already know he is going to give me hell about it.

Harry gently takes my hand and glances around, making sure nobody can see us before he opens a secret door, and we step into a different room. He closes the door, and I lean on the wall, taking a few deep breaths to bring my heart rate back down. "You alright?" Harry kisses my forehead before giving me a soft smile.

"No, you about gave me a heart attack," I respond, slapping his arm lightly, "One of these days, I will do the same to you."

"You give me heart attacks daily," Harry murmurs, his hands dropping to my side and resting on my waist. "In all seriousness, you need to be more aware, Anna. I could have been a murderer."

"That is what I have you for, to fight off murderers." I smile up at him.

Harry rolls his eyes, "You don't make my job easy, that is for sure," Harry chuckles.

"Mhm," I hum, "So why were you hovering so close? What do I owe this visit?" I request. Harry benevolently pulls me closer, and I settle into his warm embrace, feeling at ease for the first time in a few days.

"When I saw that you kicked Oliver off your service, I figured you were at your witts ends."

I rest my cheek on his chest and let out a breath, his arms tightening around me and holding me in the silence.

For the first time in a while, silence feels like a treasured moment. Nobody is requesting me, nobody telling me what to do or how to do it, nobody calling my name or needing me to be Queen. For the first time in a while, I can breathe and enjoy the silence without feeling the excessive need to cry or have a panic attack.

Oliver seems to always cop the shity end of the stick with me. He has from the moment he was on my service the first time. Earlier, my emotions got the better of me. I couldn't take it anymore and needed time alone. Nobody understood that I needed to compose myself. Everyone was suffocating me. When I managed to escape the chaos of everyone, Oliver was on my tail, following me everywhere. I couldn't take it. I needed utter silence and alone time. This time, I didn't threaten to fire him. I simply told him he wasn't on my service and to leave. Surprisingly, he listened to me.

"You can't kick him off your service."

"I needed space," I respond, lifting my head from his chest and stretching away from his embrace. "You don't get it," I mutter, turning my back towards him. I swallow hard and look up at the ceiling, doing my best not to allow the tears to fall from my eyes that are welling up.

Harry stays silent for a minute before he clears his throat, "Anastasia, sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"

I don't respond. I stare at the wall and wipe my tears away, not wanting him to see me cry over everything. I am stronger than this. I don't cry when I can't do things.

The flooring creeks and Harry's shoes sound against the floors before his hands are on my waist again, "Anna," Harry whispers, tenderly tugging my waist and turning me to face him. Before he can do or say anything, I bury myself into his chest, still not wanting him to see me cry. He has seen me cry so many times in the last few months, and I am tired of it. I am tired of crying and feeling everything at once to feeling nothing. There is no in-between when it comes to how I feel. I am either all there, or I am not.

Harry holds me close, his arm tightly around me as his hand rubs circles on my back, "Okay," he whispers, trying to comfort me soothingly. "The other night, I was so tired, frustrated and stressed that I fired one of the security guys, and I got enraged at Matthew to feel better. We argued for a good thirty minutes before we stopped, and he just laughed."

"What?" I sniffle, surprised to be hearing of such a thing. It is rare to see Harry lose his shit on people, perhaps I am not around when it happens, but I don’t hear or see this side of him.

"Yeah, I lost my shit the other night. It happens, Anna. It happens to all of us, and it's okay to lose your shit and let it out. It is okay to want time alone and to cry. You don't need to hide it, especially from me."

"I'm tired of crying, Harry."

"It's part of the grieving process… But everyone has their moments, some more than others. Anastasia," Harry trails off, his hand moving to force me to look at him. Instead of fighting him like initially planned, I look up at him, "Life isn't easy, especially yours, but it will be okay."

"I'm the only one not okay."

Harry shakes his head, "No, you're not. Your mother cries too."

"Only seen her cry twice, the hospital and the funeral."

Harry takes a breath, his eyes softening as he opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. Harry bites his lip, pondering his thoughts and what to say. I cock my head to the side, unsure of how to read him or what his thoughts are. "Anna, sometimes things aren't always as they appear."

"What do you mean?"

"I have to get back to work," Harry dismisses the conversation, his hand raising to wipe away my tears, "I have to put a plan in place for your first event as Queen; I will be done in a few hours, do you want to go out for dinner?"

"Like leaving the palace?"

Harry nods his head, "Yes, you haven't left since coronation day, and I think you need to have some sort of normalcy."

I nod my head and smile at him, "I would like that a lot," I agree.

Honestly, since my father's passing, I haven't left the palace much or at all unless for royal events. I haven't felt the desire to go out and be in public, nor have I been allowed. Security is always high, and I am always on a high-risk alert. I have become accustomed to the high-risk level threat and haven't even asked to go out. I figured at some point. Someone would be released into the world where I could be normal for a few minutes.

"Be ready to leave at six; Matthew will take you to my car." Harry leans down and kisses my lips lightly, "And keep an eye on your surroundings," Harry winks, wiping my cheek with the pad of his thumb one more time. "Oliver is back on your service, but he will keep his distance, okay?"

I agree, "Okay," I respond before he walks back out through the secret door where he steps back into the initial hallway, and I sojourn in the room he brought me into. I walk across the red carpet and take a seat in the leather chair. I slip off my heels and lift my legs onto the leather chair, tucking them under me before I place my arms on the armrest.

Oliver walks in offers me a small smile, "Permission to enter?"

“Smartass," I mutter with a slight chuckle, "I'm sorry, Oliver."

"It's okay, Her highness."

"Is it okay if you make sure nobody comes in here?" I question, "I would like some time alone," I softly instruct, resting my head on my arms.

"As you wish," Oliver agrees, exercising towards the door and stepping out, leaving me alone in a room where very few will find me.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #imagine harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #Imagine harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots #harry styles preferences #1d imagine

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heller-a-good-time · 4 years

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I offer a theory about tonight’s episode and the finale and yes it’s a long shot but I’m just writing this to make both myself and all of you feel a little better.......

From the very beginning of this episode, something felt off.

Dean tells Sam and Jack what happens to Cas and everyone has a very underwhelming reaction to it. Not to mention, they gloss over how exactly Cas died.

For the entirety of the episode they don’t seem very effected by Cas’s death.

Next, we’re told that Lucifer was brought back from the empty despite the fact that only a few episodes ago we were told chuck had no way of doing that. We can obviously chalk that up to bad writing and most likely it probably is. But it’s crazy that they seriously created a plot hole for episodes that are so close to one another. This is usually something we see happen between different seasons.

Also, despite everything that Lucifer has done in this show, the brothers are almost too quick to trust him. Granted they do have some doubts at the very beginning but the brothers would usually put up a bit more fight than that considering how much Lucifer has taken from them over the years. Dean has struggled to trust Jack for several seasons because of what he’s done and specifically what happened to Mary. And yet Dean trusts Lucifer in the space of a couple of minutes.

Then, there’s the ending.

When Chuck finally decides to end Dean and Sam, he says he can “Get his hands dirty” despite the fact that in an episode earlier in the season, Sam accuses him of being too afraid to get his hands dirty.

Chuck is defeated almost too quickly for being God. And the way he begs for Sam and Dean to kill him as they drive away also just doesn’t seem like God.

Also, this entire season, we’ve seen Dean absolutely furious over what Chuck has done to him and his family’s lives. He has been so hellbent on killing him that he pointed a gun at his own brother just two episodes ago. Even last episode, he tried to take Death on by himself because he was so motivated to kill Chuck. And then when he’s finally at that moment he’s been waiting for, he barely seems to care. Granted, it could be argued that Cas’s death might’ve made him finally realize how reckless he’s been the entire season. But everytime Dean has ever lost someone he usually has two responses. Getting himself killed or revenge (with the exception of Sam’s deaths where he obviously desperately tries to bring him back but I’ll talk more about that in a second) It’s been a consistent pattern with him throughout the show. And yet all of them are absent here. They’re not even acknowledged.

And also, them sparing Chuck wasn’t them being heroic. Killing him would have been mercy in this instance. Instead, they force him to live as mortal with no family—because he killed the only son who still trusted him, and he has to spend the rest of his life knowing he couldn’t defeat Sam and Dean. This specifically reminds me of that scene when Dean was demon back in season 10 when he spared the man who had traveled all that way and trained his entire life just to kill Dean for what he did to his father. And Dean spares him. Not because it was the good thing to do. Because the man would spend his entire life knowing he missed his one shot and that was ultimately a worse punishment than death. And they do the same thing to Chuck in this episode.

When Jack brings everyone back, the boys don’t even seem to care that now all of their friends and Eileen are alive. Sam doesn’t even mention her despite the fact that two episodes ago when he first heard about everyone “going back to where they belong” his first concern was Eileen. He was also completely gutted last episode knowing she was gone and he doesn’t even mourn her in this episode.

Also, when Jack becomes God, Dean doesn’t even ask him to bring Cas back. Despite the fact that this is once again one of his common responses we’ve seen consistently throughout the show when he loses someone. And especially considering how Cas died, Dean should especially want him back. Even when not interpreting his feelings romantically, Cas has been his best friend for 11 years. And they finally have the peace that Cas helped them fight (and sacrificed his own life) for. Dean would want Cas back. Especially since he knows now from earlier on in this episode that God has the power to do that.

Jack then decided to not go to the bunker with them. Despite the fact that for the three seasons he’s been in, the only thing he’s ever wanted was a family and to be accepted. (Let’s not even mention the fact that the brothers were both just chill with a 3 year old running the universe now. Even if it is Jack. He’s literally three. But whatever.)

The boys head back to the bunker and celebrate their “big win” if you can even call it that. They are completely content with being all alone. They lost Cas. They kind of lost Jack too. And they’re fine with it.

Literally last season, a bunch of hunters from the alternate dimension that they barely knew were all murdered and they were more upset about the bunker being empty after that than they are at the end of this episode.

They do a toast to all of the people they’ve lost along the way in a bit too good of a mood, which is something that these characters would never do. We’ve seen them grieve every person they’ve ever lost prior to this episode and they always believe the blood in on their hands. Yet now they’re suddenly content with the people they’ve lost. Even if it was their own faults.

The entire show has been about family. And yet half of their family is missing in this ending and they’re okay.

The entire show has also been about how the two of them have a crippling codependent relationship and how that always seems to start trouble. Instead of the brothers finally acknowledging this relationship. They now live happily in the bunker. Probably still codependent on each other.

Which means neither of them were forced to learn a damn thing.

My point is this episode feels very off.

And people who have watched 15 seasons of this show more than likely recognize that.

And there’s so many things that seem wrong and ooc that it almost feels as if it’s on purpose.

And that’s why I’m starting to wonder.....

What if it is?

There’s one more episode to go and what if, just maybe, they reveal that the episode that we just watched tonight isn’t what really happened. Maybe it’s the cheesy “it was all a dream” trope. Who knows?

The biggest reason why I believe this (besides the fact that I’m just a salty bitch and I need to find a way to calm myself down) is because this ending aligns almost perfectly with what Becky said about Chuck’s final ending earlier on in the season.

I now provide you the examples:

Just saying.....

I think that this might just be another variation of Chuck’s endings that they were forced to play out. Or something like that.

Because there’s just so many things that don’t fit with the entire rest of the show.

From what I’ve seen online thus far, people are very upset with this episode. Because they’ve watched 15 seasons of this show and they can tell when something just isn’t right.

And in a way, if this episode was purposely made to feel off to then reveal in the finale that none of this was real, it would pay respect to the fans who watched the show for all these years. Because they’re so familiar with the characters and the way plot lines usually play out that when all of a sudden it felt like Opposite Day watching this episode, they picked up on it and they were supposed to.

(Also another thing that I just realized I forgot to add, maybe this is just me, but a lot of the scenes in the montage at the end were very random??? Like a lot of them were insignificant scenes from the show. Ya know? I just think if any of us put together a montage for this show it would probably feature very different scenes. Like way more important ones. Maybe this fits into my theory? Maybe I’m absolutely reaching too damn far with this one. Idk. Please tell me I’m crazy)

Maybe this episode relied on fans having extensive knowledge of this show and it’s past. Maybe this episode wants you to believe something is off about it. Because they’re going to rip the rug right out from under you in the finale.

Hell, maybe this entire season has been a lie. We’ve seen Dean specifically do things he would never do in previous episodes. Point a gun at Sam. Tell Jack he’s not family. Be completely on board with sacrificing a family member. And Sam has been practically wallpaper in this season but maybe let’s not get into that too much. And hell, I’m gonna say it: Destiel went kinda canon when we never in a million years ever thought it would. Maybe all of these things are supposed to tell us all of this season wasn’t real? Maybe. Dunno. I think I’m actually just going insane? Yeah that’s probably it.

I’m really just spit balling here. Mostly because I was very upset by this episode. But maybe some of you feel the same and even if this is nowhere close to where the show is heading in its ending, I just wanted to maybe provide some comfort to those who feel the same as me.

Or maybe I’m completely wrong and this episode was just bad.

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albertasunrise · 3 years

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No More - Chapter 1

Summary: Frankie has been your best friend since you were in the 2nd grade. You were each other's first’s, he, your first love and as you’d both gotten older you always somehow fell into bed together after one too many drinks with the boys. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up but fate has other plans for you both and events as set in motion to decide for you.

Warnings: Explicit, Unprotected sex, blood and injury, overdose, unplanned pregnancy - 18+

Pairings: Frankie/ Reader

You and Frankie became best friends the date he put Billy Green in his place. The boy had been dragging you by your pigtails when Frankie had come along to put him in his place, kicking him in the shins and sending the boy running with tears streaming down his fat cheeks. From that day the two of you had been inseparable. He had been there for you when you went through your first heartbreak and you had been there to hold him through his. He had convinced his parents to take you in when your parents died in a car accident, leaving you with no one and nothing. His family had welcomed you with open arms and supported you through the hell of burying your parents at 15. At 16 and Brad Jones asked you to the dance. You'd confessed to Frankie you were nervous he might kiss you and that you’d never been kissed. He had taken your face in his hands and pressed his soft lips to yours, grinning when you’d deepened it before the both of you had pulled away flustered and out of breath. The night of the dance Brad had kissed you but when he’d pulled you into that bruising kiss, you’d wished the whole time that it was Frankie whose tongue danced with yours. You and Brad dated for a while and things got fairly serious pretty quickly and you soon found that he was talking about the two of your being intimate, something else you’d never done. You’d been embarrassed when Brad had asked you about it. ‘You’ve obviously had sex before right?’ He had said and in a moment of weakness, you’d told him yes. You sobbed to Frankie that night, sitting cross-legged on your bed as your shoulders shook.

‘I should have just been honest with him but I was scared he’d dump me.’ You’d confessed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

‘Do you want to have sex with him?’ He had asked, rubbing your arm with a big hand.

‘Yes... yes of course but he’s going to know that I haven’t when we... you know...'

‘Well, what if you do it before?’ He had asked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

‘And who am I going to have sex with then?’ You’d questioned, rolling your eyes at his suggestion.

‘Me.’

His statement had taken you by surprise. He had admitted that he hadn’t had sex before either so you’d be doing him a favour too and so that evening you lost your virginity to your best friend. The man that you were secretly in love with. You and he did it a few times that week, getting a little practice in as he had called it and so when it had come to doing the deed with Brad, you knew what to expect. The sex was okay, he had made you cum once but he was very much focused on his own pleasure whereas Frankie had focused on yours before anything else. You and Brad broke up a few weeks later. Your best friend had been there to pick up the pieces but you didn’t fall apart, you weren’t upset that things were over. You did fall apart when Frankie met Ella, his first serious girlfriend and a girl that he ended up dating for over a year. You’d had to listen to him fuck her, crying into your pillow as you remembered how he had made you feel when his hips had thrust against yours. When his lips had kissed your throat. You'd ended up having to take care of yourself for a while, unable to look at anyone else but him. Not that you were short on offers. Ella didn’t last though and when Prom had come around you have been overjoyed when he’d asked you to go with him. You danced the night away, hoping the entire evening that he would kiss you but he never did. You’d cried yourself to sleep that night. The day you both graduated was a day that was engrained into your brain permanently. It was supposed to have been the best day of your life, finishing one chapter and starting another at NYU. You’d almost screamed the house down when you’d gotten in. Frankie’s family throwing a celebration but it hadn't escaped your notice how distant he had been that night. On graduation day, you discovered why. His family had thrown a small party at their house, inviting a few other families of the kids you and he were friends with along. It had taken a lot of courage for him to pull you away from your friends to tell you what he was about to but he did. He pulled you into his bedroom, telling you to sit on the bed as he paced the length of his bedroom.

‘Frankie, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?’ You’d asked, tilting your head to the side when he finally stopped and looked at you.

‘I’m enlisting.’ He had blurted out, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he’d waited for you to speak.

‘You’re what?’

‘I’ve enlisted.’ He’d repeated as he’d plopped himself down in his desk chair ‘Going to train to be a pilot like I’ve always wanted.’

‘You wanted to be a commercial pilot!’ You’d spat, feeling anger bubbling under the surface ‘Fewer guns firing at you that way.’

‘Please...’ He’d pleaded ‘I leave on Sunday and I can’t go knowing you’re mad at me.’

‘I’m not mad Frankie.’ You’d stated ‘I’m just surprised. You could die.’

‘At least my death will mean something.’

You’d stormed out after that, knowing that if you’d stayed you would have said something you’d regret. The two of you had sorted things out by the time he needed to leave though and you had waved him off at the airport, crying with his mum as he’d disappeared out of sight and you prayed you’d see him again.

You did see him again, 5 years later at a family gathering. He’d been given leave for a few weeks and had flown home to see you and his parents. You’d been doing well after University. You had secured a job at a tech company, quickly rising through the ranks and you’d been able to buy a house just a few blocks from Frankie’s parents. You’d taken to working remotely, preferring the isolation.

You then didn't see Frankie for another 6 years. It had been gone two in the morning when frantic knocking had echoed through the house. You’d sprinted down the stairs, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you peeped through the door before opening it to Frankie’s mother sobbing. Your stomach had sunk, fearing she was here to tell you that he’d died in active duty. You’d pulled her sobbing form into your arms and held her as she cried, waiting until she was a little calmer to ask what’s wrong.

‘Frankie’s been shot in action.’ She’d told you and you’d had to cover your mouth to hide your reaction as you’d clutched your stomach ‘They’ve flown him back for treatment but can’t tell me how he is.’ She’d sobbed ‘I need to drive to the city but I can’t go alone.’

Frankie’s father had died the year before. He’d been unable to make it back for the funeral and had not been home since, Delta force having a hold over his life that you’d never understood. You’d told his mum that you’d take her, invited her in so that you could go change quickly before grabbing your car keys and heading out. She’d told you what hospital and you’d driven as fast as you could, praying that you weren’t greeted by something that had haunted your nightmares once too often. Over the years you had dated but nothing had ever really gotten past a few months. None of them had been Frankie. You’d tried to tell yourself that still being hung up over a crush from your teenage years was silly. Yes you’d fucked but you’d never been an item, he’d done you a favour, that’s all it had been. When you’d arrived at the hospital you’d both been relieved to learn that he was expected to make a full recovery. He’d taken three bullets. One to the leg, one to the shoulder and one to the abdomen. He stayed in the hospital for a week before he was sent home to recover, his mum overjoyed to have him home again. You’d visited most nights, helping his mum as she wasn’t able to care for him as he needed, her age really showing. You’d supported him through the PTSD that he ultimately suffered from because of his shooting, helping him through the panic attacks triggered by the sound of someone dropping something or a car backfiring. It had broken your heart to see him that way but despite if all he was send off on another tour and you'd prayed every night that he'd return.

His mum passed a few years later and he’d suffered heavily after that, ultimately retiring from the delta force along with his buddies Tom, Benny, Will and Pope. You’d seen more of him after that, going out at least once a week for drinks with him and the guys. That's how it started. It had been Santi’s birthday and everyone had ended up in a club after drinks in the bar. Alcohol and loud music had flowed through you as surely as the blood in your veins that night. Frankie had asked you to dance with him and you’d been surprised at how well he moved. Your back had been flush against his chest as your hips moved in sync with the beat. His hands had travelled. His lips had placed hot, wet, kisses along the junction of your neck and you’d melted to his touch. The next thing you knew he was back at your place, the two of you not even making it to the bedroom as clothes had been discarded and you fell onto the couch in a tangle of limps. He’d fucked you senseless. Marked you. Worshipped you. In the morning you did not talk about it, just made breakfast and called him a cab, crying as soon as he left. Despite how it had hurt you it kept happening. Turning into an almost weekly occurrence and each time it chipped away a small part of you. Every time, you told yourself that that time would be the last, that you would tell him to either commit to you or move on but deep down you relished even having just one small part of him. To pretend just for that night that he was yours and you were his. The night you’d finally plucked up the courage to tell him it was over was a night that haunted you still. You had decided to visit him one evening after work, knowing full well you’d not be able to do it before or after one of your rendezvous. You’d knocked a few times and he hadn’t answered but his truck was parked in the drive and the TV flickered through the blinds so you’d known he was home. You started to bang more loudly then, hoping it would grab his attention but still nothing. You’d been angry then, digging around in your bag to find the spare key he’d given you months ago. When you found it and let yourself in you found Frankie fitting on the floor, covered in his own vomit whilst his body convulsed. It had later transpired he’d accidentally overdosed on cocaine, a substance he’d been taking for months to cope with his PTSD. You’d supported him through his recovery, and through his relapse but you’d not been able to tell him that it had to stop. Too scared you’d send him down a path of no return. The group dynamic changed after that, everyone walking on eggshells around him. You still kept finding yourself in his bed and you’d now gotten to the point where you couldn’t do it anymore. You’d tried to date, had a few boyfriends and yet somehow he still found his way into your bed. Those relationships failed and still, he didn’t commit to you. There were times you thought maybe he cared for you the same way you did for him. Pulling you onto his lap when you were at movie night with the boys. His fingers drawing circles on your skin as he pulled you close. Then he’d met her.

Emily.

They became serious fast. She’d moved in with him after just two months of dating. She was suddenly there, all the time and you were pushed aside. He barely spoke to you. Barely looked at you. He was totally enamoured by her and it killed you even more. At least before, for a small while, he was solely focused on you. Your pleasure. Now he was focused on her. It eventually became to difficult to see them together and so you stopped going to movie night. Fight night. Anything that involved him you ceased attendance and the only people that seemed to worry was the Miller brothers. Santi had left to fight a war on drugs in Brazil and you rarely heard from him. It had hit Frankie hard at first, not having one of his oldest friends there to help him through the hard times but you had. You had cared for him. Cried with him. Held him, but now it seemed that meant nothing.

After a copious amount of arm twisting, Benny had managed to convince you to come to fight night that night.

‘Its the biggest fight of my career!’

He’d told you and so you’d decided that you would go for him. You’d go to the fight, show your support and then leave. You didn’t need to speak to Frankie, didn’t need to look at him. You just needed to be there for Ben. The crowd was crazy, people screaming at each other just to be heard. Your eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Will who was waving you over, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear.

‘Hey Will.’ You say sweetly as he pulls you into a bear hug.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He states as he pushes you to arm's length so he can look at you ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘I’ve just had some stuff that I’ve been dealing with.’ You reply, shrugging your shoulders.

‘Here’s your beer brother.’ Comes a familiar voice and your blood runs cold.

Will takes his drink and thanks Frankie and you excuse yourself to go to the bar. You noticed that Emily was nowhere to be seen and that brought you some relief. You order your drink and head back over to the boys, squealing when you see Ben stood there speaking to them. You put down your drink and run into his waiting arms, wrapping your legs wound his waist and he spins you.

‘Fuck I’ve missed you.’ He says as he puts you down ‘Where did you go? What have you been up to?’

‘I’ve been dealing with some stuff.’ You reply ‘Learnt who my friends are though.’

You notice Frankie flinch out the corner of your eye and you smile, at least he knew that was aimed at him. You were relieved when Tom arrived just in time to save you from being alone with Frankie as Will and Ben head out back to prepare for the fight. You’d never particularly liked Tom but at that moment you’d never been happier to see him in your life. He sat between you and Fish, limited his conversation and most importantly acted as a much-needed barrier between you and the man you’d called your best friend since you were 7. The fight was brutal but Benny won, walking out with his arms above his head, he cheers before stealing Toms beer and downing the last of it.

‘Nice one Benjamin.’ You say as you pat him on the arm.

‘Coming for drinks?’ Asks Will as he pulled you into a sideways hug.

‘Nah I need to get home.’

‘Right yeah.’ Replies Benny, his hurt evident in his tone ‘Well we’ll see you when we see you I guess.’

You hugged the brother's goodbye, bid Tom farewell and left, leaving a perplexed Frankie in your wake. The drive home was quick and uneventful, the lights being on your side and soon you found yourself pulling into your drive. Once inside the house, you poured yourself a large glass of wine and collapse onto the couch. You’d done it. You’d survived an evening with Frankie and avoided fighting or fucking him.

You were on your third glass when the doorbell rang, scrunching your face in confusion when you see the time. Who would be at your door at midnight? Getting to your feet you make your way to the front door, not even bothering to look through the peephole. You were not expecting who was on the other side.

‘What are you doing here Frankie?’ You ask, imitation saturating your tone.

‘Why did you blank me tonight?’

‘Are you fucking serious?’ You scoff as you shake your head and push the door, looking up when it's stopped by his foot.

‘What have I done?’

You throw your arms up in exasperation and make your way back to the kitchen to pour more wine. You were going to need it if you were going to have this conversation.

‘How’s Emily?’ You ask, venom dripping from each word ‘Was surprised she wasn’t there.‘

‘She’s away with her sister.’ He answers, brow furrowed in confusion ‘What does that have to do with how you blanked me?’

‘Did it hurt?’ You growl, taking a sip of your wine ‘Did it sting that I didn’t acknowledge you? Didn’t speak to you, pushed you to one side?’

‘Of course, it did.’

‘Well, you know you know how I felt.’

‘Is this because we stopped fucking?’

‘NO!.’ You yell, your anger overflowing now ‘When you got together with her and started to bring her along it was like I no longer existed.’ You continue, nostrils flaring ‘You didn’t speak to me. Didn’t look at me. I was just tossed aside because you found new pussy and it hurt like hell. I helped take care of you when you got shot. Comforted you when your mum died. Took care of you when I found you half-dead on the fucking floor from OD’ing on coke. Yet none of that seemed to matter when she came along.’

‘Is that why you stopped hanging out?’

‘Wow, I’m amazed you even noticed.’ You chuckle, taking a large swig of your wine.

‘Lazo-.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ You growl, no longer appreciating the pet-name he’d gifted you as kids.

‘Look I’m an asshole. I get it... but let's just talk about this.’

‘What’s there to talk about?’ You let your tears fall now ‘You did me a favour really.’ He tilts his head at this ‘I’d been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you that I couldn't keep sleeping with you. You managed to do that for me.’

He took a few ginger steps towards you, cupping your cheek with his hand as he caged you against the kitchen counter. You could feel your heart start to race as you look up at him, already feeling yourself get lost in his brown eyes. You don’t know how it happened but the next thing you know his lips are on yours, clothes tossed haphazardly to the side as Frankie's lifts you onto the counter. You grab his hips and pull him close as he kisses and bites your neck, gasping as he enters you in one swift movement. His thrusts are hard and fast but perfectly angled. Within minutes you peak, screaming his name as he increases the pace. You lie down on the cold, stone, worktop as he rails you, arm slung over your face as he brings on your second orgasm, this one more intense than the last and you pull him right along with you. He collapses bonelessly on your heaving form, kissing your shoulder as you both fight to regain control of your breathing.

‘Fuck I missed this.’ He breathes, finally pulling out and dashing to the downstairs toilet to grab a towel.

When he returns you’re sobbing, your whole body shaking as you rock on the floor of your kitchen.

‘Shit what’s wrong?’

‘You need to go Frankie.’ You cry, our red-rimmed eyes glaring up at him ‘You just cheated and I was a part of that. You need to leave.’

‘Lazo...’

‘GO!.’

He pulls on his clothes and leaves, slamming the door behind him and making everything around it vibrate. You don’t leave your house for the rest of the weekend, spending almost every waking moment crying as you think about what you’d done.

You avoided the group for almost two months. There was no way you could have faced him. No way that you could look her in the eye after he’d fucked you on the counter of your kitchen whilst she was blissfully unaware. You couldn’t avoid it forever though and when Will’s birthday had come around you were stuck. The plan was to head to the usual haunt for some drinks and then maybe move on to a club. He would be there. She probably would be too. You knew you just had to avoid him and all would be well. Everything would be fine.

It was Thursday and you’d been throwing up all week, having to take time off work despite working remotely. You decided then that enough was enough and you paid a visit to your doctor, hoping they’d be able to give you something to kill off whatever this was. After asking the usual questions he took some blood to send off for tests, promising that the results would be with you by the end of the following day. You were curled up on your couch when the email came through with your results, your eyes growing wide when you see what was written beside the word ‘POSITIVE’.

‘There’s no way.’ You say to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief ‘Pregnant?’

Despite the new information at your disposal, you still went out for Will’s birthday and the conversation had taken an unexpected turn from the onset.

‘So how are things with you and Emily Fish?’ Asks Benny as he gives his friend a friendly nudge.

‘She’s pregnant.’ He states, scrubbing a hand over his face and your blood runs cold.

‘Congrats man. That’s great.’ Says Will as he gives him a pat on the shoulder.

‘We’re not sure we’re gonna keep it.’ He states, taking everyone by surprise ‘She doesn’t want kids and I’m not ready.’

You feel bile rising up through your throat and you excuse yourself, practically sprinting to the bathroom as you empty the contents of your stomach. His words echo in your mind ‘I’m not ready.’ You’d not really thought about what you were going to do but there was never any doubt in your mind. You are going to keep it.

‘Everything okay?’ Asks Benny, giving you a concerned look as you made your way back to the table.

‘Yeah... Just been feeling sick all week.’ You reply, taking a swig of your coke ‘I think I’m gonna head home but you guys have fun.’

They all said their goodbyes before you sprinted to the car, falling inside and sobbing loudly. What are you going to do? Do you tell him? You were two months along. You were going to start showing fairly soon. You needed to make a decision. Tell Frankie about the baby and hope he takes it okay. Or not tell him and have this baby alone and he would remain blissfully unaware that he was a father.

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you

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zukoscomet · 3 years

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I realised recently that I never actually collated all the ideas I had about my Zutara kids so here, have some steambabies! Idk I just really like the idea of Katara and Zuko having a big family after all they’ve lost when they were young, and as an only child, I guess I kind of romanticise the idea of having siblings.

TW: I hc that Katara would have had a miscarriage, so if that is a trigger for you then maybe don’t read on.

Shameless plug but if you wanna read more about this, my series on AO3 is roots and wings.

Their firstborn is a boy who they name Kai after Kya. His full name is Kaito but nobody who knows him ever calls him that, not even when he’s in trouble. I’m not going to go into too much context about like the pregnancy bc you can already find that stuff here. He turns out very much like Zuko physically - tall, golden irises, straight black hair, narrow angular face - but he has mixed tawny skin and his eyes are shaped round and wide like Katara. He’s born on the last day of summer in 109 AG, so because of superstition that firebenders are born in peak summer, there’s some uncertainty about what he’ll bend - if at all - but then when he’s three and a half, he makes a flame. Iroh trains him to firebend until he’s about 16, then he goes off to the Sun Warriors for a year to finish off, and he ends up a very spiritual firebender. Kai is like the dream first child - the softest boy ever to live - and when Katara and Zuko go on to have more children, he’s a really great big brother, like wholeheartedly adores his little sibs even if they drive him completely nuts about 95% of the time. He’s quite a conflicted and confused kid growing up. He’s never quite sure of what he wants in life but finally, when he’s 17, he decides that he realises that he doesn’t want to be Fire Lord and passes along the heir status to his sister. After that he joins the Sun Warriors and eventually marries the chief’s daughter, Himari, and they have two firebender girls, Aiko and Sol.

Izumi arrives not long after her brother in 110 AG. Katara and Zuko planned to wait but it ends up that there’s barely a year between Kai and Izumi and it comes as an extra shock as Katara didn’t figure out she was pregnant again till like 18 weeks in. Katara goes into labour early at 35 weeks and Izumi is born really small - she never completely catches up either and it’s hilarious because after successive generations of tall male Fire Lords, they get Izumi who’s barely 5 feet - but she’s otherwise fine. She’s physically a mish-mash so overall she resembles nobody especially - Katara’s hair, complexion and big round eyes, Zuko’s irises, Azula’s heart-shaped face and highly arched brow line, Hakoda’s facial features. The superstition about summer births for firebenders peters out real quick when Izumi, born in the autumn, bends blue fire at two and a half and, taught by Jeong Jeong, she grows into a prodigal master. When she’s young, Izumi is the polar opposite of her brother - feisty, stubborn, determined and whip smart - and she’s a heathen teenager but by about 15 she mellows and matures, and part of Kai’s reasoning for abdicating is that Izumi seems a better fit for Fire Lord. Izumi was always kinda apathetic to kids but at 19, she accidentally gets pregnant and has her son, Kazuo, then her daughter, Kira, eleven years later. Izumi becomes Fire Lord at 37 but she only rules for about 14 years before retiring. Since she had Kaz so young, if she stayed on the throne much longer, Kaz would also be an older man when it came time for him to inherit, so she decides to step aside and Kaz is coronated just after his 33rd birthday.

(Kazuo takes after his Gran Gran in more ways than just his blue eyes; he’s a waterbender so Kaz is the first waterbender Fire Lord)

After a break, Katara and Zuko decide to try for a third addition and Katara gives birth - in the Southern Water Tribe, for the first time - to Bashira, four years after Izumi. Shira looks probably the most like Zuko out of all the children, even more than her elder brother does. They share the same tall and lean physique, the same long black hair, Shira is mixed but still the palest of all the steambabies and their faces are practically identical. They’re characteristically very similar, too - serious, intense and reserved. The only differences is that her hair is curly, her eyes are blue and finally, Katara gets her waterbending child. Both of them suspected that Shira was going to be a waterbender even at the early stages of the pregnancy, but it’s still super exciting when Shira tosses a wave at her elder siblings when she’s two. Katara is teaching her as soon as she possibly can but over time some tension develops between them when Shira turns out to be quite different from her mom in terms of natural bending style. Shira is very fight-oriented, she learns dao swords from Zuko and never shows as much of an interest in the healing arts, but when things blow up and eventually Shira is able to explain that she wants to be able fight like her mom did during the war, things straighten out and Katara guides Shira all the way through to mastery. She eventually moves to the South in her late teens to lead the tribe’s warriors. There, she has three children - waterbender twins Kenzo and Kenji, then a daughter named Kanna who’s a firebender like Grandpa - but the marriage to their father doesn’t last and in her 50s, she ends up in a relationship with Aang and Toph’s daughter, Lin.

Katara gets pregnant for a fourth time - planned - just after Shira turns two, but this time she has a miscarriage. Zuko was overseas when it happened so she went through it alone. Katara is devastated and resents Zuko for not being there. She knows it’s not his fault but she can’t help her emotions and that makes her feel even worse so she just shuts down - stops doing her Fire Lady work, stops spending any more time with Zuko and their children than necessary, won’t let the rest of the family visit them and spends most of the day lying in bed. Zuko doesn’t know how to help her so initially he decides to give her space to grieve however she feels she needs to, but it just deteriorates until one day Zuko suggests that maybe they should both go to therapy or marriage counselling or something because it can’t go on like this. Katara just completely loses it at that and ends up yelling at him all the things that she’d been bottling up over the last couple of months. Katara says some awful things and she’s expecting Zuko to take it poorly, hence why she kept it all inside up till now, but Zuko just accepts every bit of it and after that, she’s finally able to grieve properly and mend.

About six months after they come back together, they decide to try again and Katara eventually falls pregnant. The pregnancy itself goes smoothly but both of them are so stressed about something going wrong like last time and the effect that might have on both of them, then Gran Gran passes away when Katara is in her thirtieth week, so the full ten months were incredibly hard-going.

It’s a big relief when the baby is finally born on Ember Island, three years after Shira in 117 AG. They name her Lili in honour of their recent losses, since lilies can ease scars and Iroh once referred to them as lights in darkness. From the beginning, Lili is the image of Katara in every way physically and characteristically - kind, patient, gentle, but does have quite a temper if she’s pushed too far. She’s also a waterbender, though it takes her a little longer to manifest her abilities than any of her siblings, first gaining control of the water at the age of six. Lili is incredibly endearing, as both a child and an adult, and she becomes so particularly popular with the Fire Nation public that the firebending qualification to be considered an heir to the throne is reversed, so Shira and Lili are inducted into the succession. Born in the same year, Lili had a long-term relationship with Tenzin, Aang and Toph’s thirdborn, but as they grew older, Tenzin was concerned that if he married her, their children would have heritage of all four elements and degrade the chances of Tenzin producing airbenders and continuing the Air Nation. That concern resulted in a kind of on-again-off-again thing but eventually Lili sent him off with an "I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t even sure he wants me" and went travelling the world for a few years. When they’re both in their thirties though, Lili and Tenzin reconnect and get back together, eventually marrying and producing five children - Jinora, Aya, Hiro, Rohan and Kano, the elder four airbenders and the youngest a waterbender.

A few months after Lili is born, Sokka and Suki have a baby girl and when Katara and Zuko go to visit their new niece, they agree that night on a spur-of-the-moment that they want one more child. The morning after, they talk about it properly and decide it’d be better to wait till Lili was a bit older, but Katara found out six weeks later that that one time had been successful. About halfway through, they find out that they’re expecting a boy and Katara is especially excited since their son had always been more closely attached to her whereas their girls were very firmly Daddy’s girls. Sure enough, when Kallik arrives in 118 AG, he’s a big Mama’s boy and remains so his entire life. Apart from his curly black hair, Kallik is the spitting image of his uncle, to the point that Hakoda says that seeing Lili and Kallik together is like seeing young Katara and Sokka. Kallik is the hardest to handle out of their children - loud, playful, mischievous and an exhausting troublemaker. All of the siblings fight like cat and dog but Kallik and Izumi are by far the worst, on the level of one walks into a room and the other is like “And I took that personally” and they never seem to grow out of it even when they’re both old and grey. Kallik is the only nonbender in the family and initially he struggles with this a bit but he spends a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Sokka, learns dao swords with Shira and Zuko, and by the time he hits his teens, he comes to view it more as something that sets him apart from his siblings. When he’s 18, he goes to join the United Forces and he stays in service till his late thirties, when he meets Ren, another serviceman from the Northern Water Tribe. After beginning a relationship with him, the pair settle in Republic City and end up adopting two daughters, Kirima and Alasie.

About a decade after Kallik is born, it seems like things are kind of slowly drawing to a close as the kids are getting older - Kai is 19 and has left home, Izumi is 18 and living away in Republic City while she studies at university, Shira is 14 and already talking about moving South the first chance she gets, Lili is 11 and wanting to go Northern Water Tribe to train with the healers there, and Kallik is 10 and dreaming of being a great military commander like Grandpa Koda and Uncle Sokka - when suddenly Katara starts to get really, really sick. Zuko is absolutely terrified, thinking that there’s something seriously wrong with his wife, but after some deduction, it turns out that Katara is actually pregnant again. The relief at realising she’s not dying is short-lived and the reaction from both of them is basically holy shit holy fuck we are too old for this our other kids are practically all grown up now we are done with babies we can't seriously have six children what are we going to do. There’s a lot of discussion, especially since Katara is 43 by then and the risks for her to be carrying another child are higher, but they ultimately decide to go through with it. Ironically, it’s the easiest of all her pregnancies and when Katara delivers a baby girl in Republic City in 128 AG, there hadn’t been a single complication to speak of. Iroh had passed away two years earlier, devastating the whole family but Zuko in particular, but the baby is born with his irises - a darker gold - so they name her Ilah. Her eyes are big and round like Katara’s but other than that, Ilah resembles her Grandma Ursa most strongly, with her thick chestnut-coloured hair and slight, delicate facial features. Naturally, Katara and Zuko think all their babies were the cutest baby but Ilah is probably objectively the cutest, with her big honey-coloured eyes, chubby cheeks and soft little curls.

Inevitably, since Kai, Shira, Lili and Kallik had all either left home before she was born or did so when she was still a little girl, Ilah gets a lot more concentrated attention from Katara and Zuko. She’s completely spoiled and doted upon by the whole family, including her elder brothers and sisters who visit her as often as they can manage. Since Izumi still lives in the palace permanently as the Crown Princess, she and Ilah are close, but Ilah ultimately ends up being closest with Izumi’s son, Kaz, who is only a year younger than his aunt. Ilah was even in the room when Kaz was born, though it wasn't an intentional move. Zuko was supposed to be watching Ilah when things got intense with Izumi’s labour but things escalated from 0-100 real fast and Katara didn't have time to hand Ilah off, so she stayed tucked in a sling on her mother’s back as Katara helped her eldest daughter to deliver her own baby, somehow sleeping through all the noise and commotion. Ilah and Kaz end up more like a brother and sister or best friends than an aunt and nephew, though Kaz always calls her Auntie Ilah when he’s teasing her. Ilah is perhaps the shyest around strangers of her siblings, uninterested in celebrity and attention, but she’s the most adventurous, determined and creative, interested in science and invention from an early age. Growing up, Ilah felt a little pressured by the renown of her family, especially when her firebending turned out to be just about average in power, but when she’s 12, Ilah figures out that she can combustionbend. From there, she applies her bending abilities to science and when she leaves home for university, she invents the combustion engine at age 20. The rest of her adult life is spent travelling virtually non-stop, working on innovation projects for the different nations. She never has children, on the account that it would be unfair to expect a kid to move around as much as she does and she’s happy enough with her numerous nieces and nephews, but she eventually marries her long-time girlfriend Li-Mei, an Air Nomad tasked with searching the world for new airbenders.

#zutara #katara #zuko #katara x zuko #avatar: the last airbender #steambabies #momtara and dadko

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atths--twice · 3 years

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An Unexpected Discovery

An alternate universe in which Mulder and Scully are college professors working in buildings across from one another. They have become close, but one day, he learns something about her he never would have expected.

A couple of days ago, @msgilliana posted a tweet about an AU involving Mulder and Scully which led to a mini story being created by both of us. People asked for a REAL story, but it wasn’t my baby, I had only added a bit to an adorable idea. I suggested she and I collaborate and we two women, who were “too busy right now,” cranked out a 7,700 word story in two days.

Hope you all enjoy!

Fox Mulder knew the start of the new academic year could be daunting for new faculty: Am I teaching this class correctly? Is my syllabus adequate? Where the hell do I park?

When he saw one person in particular however, he knew she meant business. They never technically met, but it was more of a ‘we parked next to each other and your building is right next to mine, so we might as well chat’ situation.

“Hi,” he’d said when he saw her, the first of them to speak. He had been drawn to her beauty, her red hair causing her to stand out.

“Hello,” she’d responded.

“Are you new?” he’d asked.

She pushed a stray piece of that beautiful red hair behind her ear. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh no, I just have an eidetic memory and haven’t seen you before.” She was impressed, and her face revealed as much before he asked another question.

“What do you teach?”

“A mix. Some general physics, some intro to modern physics. You?”

“Wow, that’s quite impressive. I teach psych. Intro, abnormal, and social. Most people think it’s a ‘soft’ science, but I think it’s pretty important.”

“Psychology is interesting to be fair. Why do people do what they do, what determines our likes and dislikes, or even hyperfixations. And that’s just scratching the surface.”

“I have never met anyone from the science department who sees it that way. It’s quite refreshing, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Well, my sister’s very into feelings, the energy of the planets, all that kind of stuff. She and I are very close. Well… this is my building.” She pointed to the one right next to the one he would be entering.

“And this is mine. How convenient. I’ll see you around Dr…”

“Scully. Dana Scully.”

“Fox Mulder.” He offered his hand and she shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Mulder.”

“Oh please, no ‘Dr.’ That’s so boringly formal. ‘Mulder’ is fine,” he had joked with a mock shiver.

“Then you can call me ‘Scully.’” She chuckled and then smiled at him. As he stared at her, he couldn’t help but notice the presence of a beauty mark above her top lip. She had covered it with makeup and he didn’t understand why she would, it was adorable and also incredibly sexy.

Oh, maybe that’s why, he thought, knowing how men could behave.

Pushing aside those thoughts, he smiled as they reached their respective buildings and separated, walking to their offices.

Over time, they’d gotten to know more about each other. He knew she was twenty six and had received her doctorate two years prior. She was Catholic with two older siblings, a brother and a sister, the latter of whom had an interest in all things extraterrestrials, and she also had one younger brother.

Before the end of her first teaching year, they’d managed to park next to each other almost every day. They would chat for the few minutes their walk to the building afforded them, until they had to separate to their own offices. They both looked forward to that time together each day.

At the year's commencement, they had sat next to each other, and she looked extraordinarily extravagant in her doctoral robe and cap. She would say the same about him.

The following school year, they had gone from their morning chats to leaving at the same time as well. It quickly turned into one accompanying the other to their office and continuing their conversations. While almost polar opposites, they felt comfortable with each other and talked about any and everything.

Of all the little things he knew about her, the one thing Mulder knew Scully prided herself on most was punctuality. He knew she arrived in the parking lot at exactly 8:05 every Tuesday and Thursday before her first class began at 8:30. The other three days, she arrived at exactly 9:25 am for her 10 am class. His classes were all later in the day, but he came in early for office hours and to get work done before his classes.

A couple of months later, however, it was 9:27 on a Wednesday morning and she was nowhere to be found. In the nearly one and a half years since she’d been teaching, Scully had never been late. Though he was curious, he decided to head into his office and start his day.

His work, however, didn’t hold his attention. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. What was she doing? Was she sick? Was there a family emergency? She had mentioned that her siblings lived all across the country. Her older brother Bill was in California where he was stationed with his wife Tara. Melissa was traveling, “finding herself” Scully had stated with a slight eye roll, and Charlie was in New York with his girlfriend Elaine. Her parents were in Annapolis, about an hour's drive from the school.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he decided to email her, something he’d never done nor had any need to do.

Scully,

Are you okay?

Mulder

He forewent formalities because he felt they were on friendly enough terms, or at least he had assumed so. They hadn’t ever socialized outside of school events, but he had lost count of the high school and college friends he no longer spoke to or had only seen on campus.

He was about to get ready to teach his first class of the day when he checked his email one more time and saw a reply from her.

I’m fine.

Nothing further, not even her name, but at least he now knew she was okay. Or at least, Mulder hoped so. She would’ve said if something was wrong.

Right?

He didn’t sleep well that night, his brain unable to stop thinking and wondering if she was okay.

The next day, she still hadn’t arrived on time. He was in his office, about to send her another email, when he heard a car door slam around 8:15. The building was fairly soundproof, but the windows were not.

Curious, he got up from his desk and looked out the window. Seeing Scully’s car, he immediately smiled. She was a little late, but she was there. His brows then furrowed when she opened the door to the backseat. Bending inside, she was there for nearly a minute.

When she pulled back, he let out a gasp as she had reappeared with a small child in her arms. He could see the little girl was limp and appeared to be asleep. Observing Scully’s struggle to get her bags from the front seat while also carrying the child, he quickly left his office.

He tried to keep his pace slow, so as to not disrupt his colleagues, but his mind was racing with a million questions. Mulder made it outside, but didn’t see Scully. Assuming she must’ve gotten to her office already, he hurried up the stairs; he was out of breath when he reached the third floor.

Looking around, he heard a ding, announcing the arrival of the elevator down the hall. The doors opened and he spotted her shining red hair as she exited the elevator, and turned toward her office. Speed walking, he made it to her office at the same moment that she did.

“Oh, God. Mulder, you scared me,” she whispered when she saw him, breathing quickly as she reached for her keys.

“Sorry,” he whispered, matching her volume.

Scully took a minute to find her keys, only having one hand free for the action. She finally got her office unlocked, the little girl sleeping through it all. Propping the door open, she left the light off and set her bags down, a bright pink Dora the Explorer backpack standing out. She picked it up and held it out to him.

“Can you…” she asked him, nodding at the child in her arms.

“Oh. Um, sure. What…”

“Her blanket, please.”

He unzipped the bag and pulled out a small blue blanket with Thomas the Train across it. Versatile, I like it, thought Mulder. He couldn’t help but feel his heart grow as he watched the way she was with the little girl he assumed had to be her daughter.

“Mommy…” the toddler suddenly croaked.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Scully’s voice was soothing and soft for the girl as she ran a hand across her daughter’s long loose curls. It was different from her no-nonsense, low-pitched professor voice, and it made his heart ache.

She mouthed a thank you to Mulder and took the blanket from him. The little girl whimpered as she was covered in the blanket and snuggled closer to her mother. Scully rocked her and smiled at Mulder.

“I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Just a few.”

She sighed and looked at her child. “Please, sit.”

He obeyed, watching as she carefully sat in her leather desk chair.

“How old is she?” Mulder asked.

“Almost three.”

“Wow, you’ve got your hands full. What’s her name?”

“Emily.” Scully smiled as she rubbed Emily’s back over the blanket.

Awkward silence washed over them as they both ignored the elephant in the room. Scully wasn’t married and didn’t wear a ring. She had never talked about her child before, let alone a partner that could be the child’s father.

“You’ve shared so much, why not her?”

She sighed again. “I don’t know. I guess I thought… that you would judge me. Everyone else sure does, except Missy and Charlie.”

“You know I’d never.”

“I do, but I was also worried. And I guess I wanted to keep her secret for as long as possible.” She avoided his gaze as she spoke.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I do have one more burning question…”

“You want to know about her dad,” Scully guessed and he looked at her sadly and shrugged, not speaking the words, but obviously curious.

“His name’s Ethan and he had been my boyfriend since grad school. I found out I was pregnant the day I defended my dissertation. We broke up about halfway through my pregnancy. He hadn’t ever wanted children, but also didn’t want to use protection. I… well… now Em’s here. That’s the extremely simplified version.”

Mulder’s eyes were wide as he took in the information. He thought she was pretty badass to be able to raise a kid on her own. He could also hear how she may feel shame about it, because of others' comments and also how society tended to treat women who were single parents.

She sighed and he realized that he hadn’t said anything in response. Feeling like a bit of a jackass, he opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly stood up and shook her head.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, glancing at her watch. “But my first class starts soon and I need to get her stuff to bring.”

He shook his head and stood as well. “I can watch her, if it would make it easier for you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t-“

“I insist. Besides, I don’t think she’ll like listening to her mother talk about super smart science stuff.”

“It’ll probably bore her to death,” she agreed with a chuckle.

“Then it’s settled then.”

“Are you sure?” Her expression gave away her uncertainty, her eyes searching his face.

“Really, I’d love to. I promise we’ll just stay in here while you teach.”

“You need to be in your office, Mulder. I can’t do that to you.”

“Then we can go to mine. Look, Scully, I promise we’ll be okay, okay?”

She sighed for the third time. “Okay. I should wake her though, let her know I’m leaving and let her see you. I don’t want her waking up without me and crying. Hey, Em,” she said softly, gently patting her back, waking the child.

“Mama…”

“Hey honey, Mama has to teach her class now. You’re going to spend some time with Mulder today, okay? He’s mommy’s friend.”

The toddler lifted her head and looked at him fearfully, tears running down her cheeks.

“Hey, Emily,” Mulder greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you like Dora? She’s pretty cool.” Emily didn’t answer, but embraced Scully tighter.

“I know baby, but Mommy really needs to get to class. Mulder is a very nice man and he will take care of you. He has fish in his office. Do you want to see them?” She nodded, her eyes still full of tears.

Emily was gently passed to Mulder, Scully making sure she was wrapped in her blanket. The little girl sniffed and whimpered as she watched her mom blow her a kiss and then leave the room, thanking him once again.

“Would you like to go on a trip, Emily?” he asked, hoping to ease the tension. She looked at him, her expression unsure and still slightly fearful. “Let’s go see the fish, okay?” She nodded and he beamed.

He grabbed her backpack and swung it onto his back, closing the door to Sculy’s office as they walked out. He locked the door with the keys he’d taken off her desk, knowing she would come to his before coming back to her own.

Emily was trembling slightly in his arms and he held her closer as they walked to the elevator.

“Would you like to go outside? It feels nice out today.”

Emily slowly nodded her head, her thumb on the tip of her bottom lip, as she put her head on his shoulder. He stepped out of the elevator and then the building. He walked into the little courtyard separating the science and education/psychology buildings. The little girl lifted her head just enough to look around.

“‘Nola,” Emily said quietly, as she pointed with her little finger.

“What was that, Em?” Mulder asked, at a loss of what she was trying to say.

“‘Nola,” she repeated louder.

He looked at the direction she was pointing and chuckled when he realized what she meant. “Oh, you like the magnolia tree?”

Mulder was impressed by her intelligence. Of course, her mother had gotten her doctorate at twenty-four, which was not common amongst the other faculty. Even he hadn’t received his until just before she had started teaching, and he was thirty, nearly thirty-one.

“You’re very smart, Emily,” Mulder praised, but the little girl was uninterested. She put her head back on his shoulder, falling asleep before they made it to the office.

As he arrived at the door, he realized he had left his door unlocked when he found it hanging open and one of his teaching assistants, Tyler, was grading papers.

“Oh, sorry Dr. M, but the door was unlocked and…” Tyler started, but was confused as he saw Emily in his arms.

“I’m watching her for a friend,” Mulder said simply, putting her backpack down on the desk. Tyler nodded and went back to grading papers.

Emily continued to sleep, Mulder holding her as he sat down at his desk. Even as he held her, he managed to send a slowly-typed email to a student about the midterm, enter the test grades Tyler had given him, and sent out an announcement to the class about their extra credit assignment.

Looking down at Emily, he smiled. Other than her blonde hair, she was a mirror image of Scully and he couldn’t imagine anyone but her having a sweeter child.

Tyler left soon after he was done grading, smiling and nodding silently as he walked out the door. Emily began to stir, her eyes slowly opening and taking in her surroundings.

“Hey there, Em,” he said softly, and the toddler mumbled, clutching her blanket closer.

“Do you want to see the fish now?” She nodded and he stood up, his back protesting at the position he had been in for the past forty five minutes. He shifted her to hold her better and walked across the room to show her the fish.

“Oh!” she said, watching the fancy guppies he had bought swimming around the tank. “Fishies!” She pointed at the tank and he grinned.

“Yup! Those are fancy guppies. Can you say guppy?”

“Guppy.”

“Good job,” he said, smiling again and rubbing her back. “See that one there? The blue one with the red spotted tail? That’s my favorite one. Watch how fast he swims.”

“Fish swim fast,” she agreed with a nod and he chuckled, shifting her again.

“They are fast. Good job, Em! Gimme five.” She laughed as she lifted her tiny hand and met Mulder’s large one.

“Having fun?” Scully asked and they turned to look at her, standing in the doorway with a smile.

“Mommy!” Emily said, trying to scramble out of Mulder’s arms. He laughed as he set her down and she ran to Scully, who lifted the squealing toddler in her arms.

“Hey, baby.” Scully kissed Emily’s cheek and looked at Mulder. “Were you good for Mulder?”

Emily vigorously nodded her head while Mulder laughed. “She was very good. She’s a smart kid.”

“She takes after her mother.” The two adults smiled and Emily wrapped her arms around Scully’s neck. “Thank you for looking after her. I only had the one class today, but she was sick yesterday and I had babysitter problems and-“

“I promise it was no trouble and completely my pleasure. She slept most of the time, but she liked the fish. The guppies, right Em?”

“Guppy,” she said with a nod, pointing at the tank. “Guppy fish, Mommy.”

“Yes, I know. I knew you would like them.” Scully smiled. “Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Umm. I… no, I mean yes I’m free.”

“Well, let me buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help.”

His heart raced. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since he had first looked at her.

“Um, sure, I mean… yeah, I’d love to,” he stammered.

Great job, doofus, he admonished himself, inwardly rolling his eyes.

“Great. I’ll sort out a babysitter for tonight and I’ll see you at six? I’ll send you my address.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Scully was inviting him out on a date. Did she see it that way? They’d never spent time together outside of university functions, but he hoped she’d see it as a date, as he would love for it to be so.

He smiled as he nodded and she smiled back. She lifted Emily a little higher, telling her about her class as Emily continued staring at the fish. The way she doted on her daughter and how her red hair shone in the light, he could feel he was already falling for her.

Yeah… he was in big trouble.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Fanfic Collab #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #Emily Sim #Modern AU #College Professors #First Meetings #Getting to Know Each Other

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lassieposting · 3 years

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Would you be up for doing some Saracen or Dexter headcanons uni has got he exhausted and I love your headcanons

Omg bless u im sorry uni sucks ass

1. Who said I love you first?

Saracen. The jury was still out for dexter at the time; he grew up rough and learned early to be guarded. Saracen never had that problem. He loves freely and wholeheartedly and when he falls, he falls hard.

2. Who laughs and kisses their partner on the cheek while their partner isn’t happy about something trivial to try and make them feel better?

Saracen. Dex has a tendency to brood, especially while he was planning the tm7 heist. He's used to trusting his gut when he's adventuring alone, but on dead men missions he was always taking orders from skug. He's not accustomed to having his orders be the life or death decisions that could get his team, who trust him, killed. He overanalyzed a lot, tried to think of every possible scenario where something could go wrong. Saracen always thought he was getting too into his head about it.

3. Who cuddles up to the other after a long day at work, and this soon escalates to a playful pillow fight?

Saracen is the cuddler. He's also the worst fidget-arse dex has ever met, which. "Stop fucking fidgeting" is a totally valid excuse to hit someone on the head with a pillow, in his opinion

4. What is something that they gave one another that has a lot of meaning?

For these two it's skills rather than material possessions. They both travel a lot, Stuff™ takes up too much space. But saracen is the one who taught dexter to read and write, and Dexter is the one who taught saracen to cook for himself, both of which have come in handy A Lot in the centuries since.

5. How would one another describe their partner?

2x variations on "this asshole right here"

6. Who wraps their arms around their partner as they look them in the eyes and compliments them with a goofy smile?

Saracen, especially at fancy functions. 300+ years and dex still isn't 100% comfortable in a tuxedo, surrounded by glitz and glamour. That's saracen's world, not his. He'd rather be in jeans and boots underneath a car or trekking through a jungle. So sometimes saracen has to remind him that even if he doesn't really feel like he fits in at events like the Requiem Ball, he looks so good nobody else can tell him apart

7. Who loves saying ‘my wife’ or ‘my husband’ or ‘my spouse’?

Neither, they're not married. They're also not exclusive, so they don't tend to put labels like "boyfriend" on their relationship. They're just in love.

8. Who always talks about how amazing their partner is when their partner isn’t there and they just light up with genuine love and happiness?

Dexter, mostly when he's been drinking. At this point, everyone he could gush to about Saracen has already been gushed at, but he takes full advantage of Val's clueless ass and she gets to listen to like a solid 45 minutes of rambling about how cute Saracen's dimples are when he smiles. It's gross, but it's cute.

9. Who loves it when their partner kisses them good morning?

Saracen. He's not a morning person but dex is, so his wakeup call is usually the smell of coffee from the bedside table and a kiss on the forehead or the cheek or the nose before dex goes out for a run. He's then got an hour or so to wake up, lounge, drink the coffee, check his phone, etc before Dex comes back.

10. Who shows the other how to balance a spoon on their nose?

Saracen

11. Who loves to pull pranks on the other? What type of pranks do they pull and do they pull their pranks off?

Dexter has been doing the "pulls away before Saracen can get in the car thing since cars were invented, and he'll probably still be doing it in a hundred years' time. Saracen knows exactly what he's doing every time he does it, and he knows Dex won't actually drive off without him, but he "falls for it" every time because it kills Dex that he does, and he likes to see Dexter happy.

12. What is something small that they would randomly pick up for one another?

They're both pretty transient and spend a lot of time apart when they're travelling, but Saracen sends Dexter photos of dogs and cats he meets in the street, and Dexter sends Saracen photos of products or places with "dirty" names. So if he passes through a town where his hotel is called Canal View, Saracen will receive a photo of the hotel's sign, but Dex's hand is held up to hide the C, making it "anal View". This is solidly Saracen's sense of humour, he keeps the best ones.

13. Who is the one who can’t stop laughing when trying to tell a joke?

Saracen, when he's been drinking. He giggles the whole way through.

14. Who would plan the other a surprise birthday party?

Saracen. Motherfucker saw through vile's armour like 200 years ago and never breathed a word. Dex won't know shit until everyone jumps out at him.

15. Who picks the other person up when hugging their partner?

Dexter, because he can, because saracen is Smol.

#skulduggery pleasant #sexter #sp headcanons

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keeptheotherone · 3 years

Photo

Mecation: Day 1

Thursday

I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. I’m indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)

If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know I’m a nurse. While I’ve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I don’t recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didn’t have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.

COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parents’, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages.

When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hours’ drive away. I’m single and live alone; it was the most isolated I’ve ever been in my whole life.

With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I haven’t seen them in a year. If it weren’t for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (I’ve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it weren’t for COVID, I wouldn’t have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college.

I was alone on Christmas. Oh, I’ve spent December 25th on my own before; I’m a nurse. I’ve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didn’t leave enough time off to drive home. But I’ve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didn’t feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.

Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to. Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with.

I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip I’m on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now I’m a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (I’m not counting my nephew’s graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)

I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, I’m American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (don’t ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.

I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. I’d been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, I’m cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.

Then came Delta.

All right, maybe going out of the country isn’t the best idea, I thought. Don’t want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but can’t get back home. But I didn’t want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didn’t want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didn’t seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.

Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! I’ve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential!

Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didn’t have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; I’d had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing I’ve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you’re dead; it is also true it doesn’t matter if you’re safe if you want to kill yourself. (I’m not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, don’t anybody panic.)

So, now I’ve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.

So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and I’m back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is it’s bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and they’re all vented. SICU is being nicknamed “the ECMO unit.” The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didn’t even know we had 12 because she’s never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day.

And I’m going to travel.

It’s a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how I’m successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time I’d been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasn’t my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. I’m still not sure if I’m managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know I’m less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease.

So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekend’s to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian.

That’s me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to y’all; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, that’s saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure I’ve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, I’m wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since “no one” was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (That’s another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when you’re masked whenever you’re in public.)

I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I don’t like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :)

#ktoo travels #covid coping #mental health #about ktoo #ktoo nurses #herself

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seriouslysam8 · 3 years

Note

For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.

Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.

Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.

14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.

I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.

30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”

51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.

62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!

76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.

82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.

85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.

88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?

@breaniebree .

1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!

2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.

3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?

90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?

I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.

98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?

Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.

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