#but after spending their life confined to the role of a Man’s Man she does take a bit of a he/him sabbatical first

[whinlatter]

sirius and ginny: a meta (part 1)

“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.’

are you a very brave, very reckless, very hot self-destructive rebel with a treacherous sibling and a flair for christmas decoration, harbouring complex feelings about your mother, close ties to crookshanks the cat and spend your days plagued by the memory of your worst mistakes and dark past? do you find yourself constantly being begged to stay in a state of protective confinement to save your life by a young man with a lightning scar, bad hair and crippling abandonment issues? if so, congratulations! you might be one of harry potter's chosen family members, sirius black and ginevra molly weasley! 

basically - i want to talk about sirius and ginny. these are two characters who don’t share a lot of scenes in canon but who, i think, have some clear (if overlooked) parallels: stubborn, fiercely protective of harry, self-sacrificing, admired, principled, haunted (in different ways) by traumatic pasts and betrayals, with complicated relationships with their families and entirely uncomplicated devoted relationships with someone else’s cat. their narrative arcs are successive, with ginny ascending in significance in the series during sirius’ period of decline and ultimate death. and ultimately, they’re also the two people who become, over the course of the canon series, family to a protagonist desperately seeking to build one. sirius and ginny are the two people harry in canon most worries about, wants to protect, and thinks of as someone who embodies the promise of family and home.

sirius and ginny aren’t mirror images of each other. ofc, ginny also has parallels with the only other family members harry claims in the series, lily and james (i mean, especially james - she’s literally a cocky funny flirtatious chaser with a years-long debilitating mega crush who can also catch a snitch like a champ. come on now). it’s also clear in canon that sirius means more to ginny as a hero/role model/ally against her mother than ginny ever means to sirius. nevertheless, the text puts in work to let the reader know we should think about these characters together as somehow aligned. from the beginning of ootp, there are clues and signals in the text that foreshadow ginny’s emergence as someone important to harry, and that subtly let the reader know that the baton of being harry’s ‘person’ is about to be passed from sirius to ginny, two kindred spirits, after sirius’ death. so that's what this meta is about! (consider this my 700th attempt to show that, as the popular fandom complaint/all of reddit still insist, ginny as a character, and especially the harry/ginny romance, did not ‘come out of nowhere’.)

the following meta is part one of two (and yet it's still too long! sorry about it). o in this part, i look at the period from the end of goblet of fire thru the start of half blood prince, exploring how the text sets up the sirius and ginny parallels as a way of foreshadowing ginny’s emergence as harry’s main love interest and place as a family substitute. the second part (tbc) will be what the memory of sirius does for harry’s view of his relationship with ginny, and the kind of positive - and negative - ways this shapes harry’s ideas about love and what family do for each other. i wrote this meta as a way of thinking through some characterisation choices for my current WIP, beasts. if you're following along with that fic, this meta can be seen as a companion piece especially to my thinking behind chapters ten and eleven, so hope proves helpful for some of my thinking behind the sirius and ginny friendship that appears in that project. it's also dedicated to @ashesandhackles, queen of metas, who has reminded me to post this meta precisely 9 million times because she is a long-suffering saint.

ok - sirius and ginny. let’s goooooo!

sirius and ginny before ootp

before OotP, ginny is absent from any plot connected to sirius. ginny doesn’t know the truth about sirius’ innocence, nor does she know that harry, her brother and her friend are in regular contact with sirius and that harry now as a surrogate father/big brother figure to confide in and seek comfort in.  in fact, in one of ginny’s few appearances in GoF, the narration is unusually insistent that the reader knows how little ginny knows about sirius:

“And have you heard from — ?” Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. Harry knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about Harry’s godfather as he was. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but themselves and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence. “I think they’ve stopped arguing,” said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. “Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?” 

the only other tiny crumb of sirius and ginny we get is the news that the owl sirius bought in PoA and gifted to ron as a replacement pet for scabbers has been embraced and named by ginny. sirius gifting a tiny little spitfire of an owl that annoys ron? it's giving foreshadowing, your honour.

the reader, though, knows who sirius is to harry by GoF. throughout this book, for the first time in the series, harry has a person he can claim as something like a family: someone to worry about, someone who cares about him,who can advise, guide and mentor him, as well as offer him support and consolation in difficult times (‘someone like a parent…’) although sirius has not been able to offer harry a stable alternative home to the dursleys due to his status as a wanted man, he’s still filling a role that previously had been vacant in the series: he’s harry’s person, the surrogate parent chosen for him by james and lily. he’s close by, either by the floo or eventually living (at great personal cost) as padfoot in hogsmeade, and he’s present emotionally for harry in ways that prove incredibly meaningful to his young godson. in times of great of distress, sirius is there for harry to meet emotional needs that ron and hermione (understandably, no shade to them) can’t always meet. the floo scene early on in GoF, during harry’s row with ron, is a particularly good example of this:

“Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously. “I’m —”  For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. …Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn’t entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn’t walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron’s jealousy . . . Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern… He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption’.

harry derives enormous comfort from sirius’ presence in his life during GoF. he writes to sirius, he repeatedly turns to him for advice, he worries for him more than he does any other person. sirius fulfils harry’s desire to be kept abreast of important information about voldemort and death eaters, doesn’t sugarcoat news for harry, and makes him feel important, cared for and understood. (harry even shows off to sirius telling him about how much of a slay the first task was. ugh). by the time of the third task, sirius is sending harry daily owls, a constant flow of reassurance and concern (‘He reminded Harry in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not Harry’s responsibility, nor was it within his power to influence it. If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, he wrote, my priority is to ensure your safety.’) when harry returns from the graveyard at the novel’s end, it’s sirius who races to his side to advocate for him and offer him both words of comfort and physical affection as he processes the traumatic series of events that constitute the climax of the book’s plot. (my personal favourite part is where harry says ‘wormtail cut me with a knife’ and the text says sirius made a ‘vehement exclamation’, which i can only assume is children’s book speak for ‘fucking hell’.) harry goes to bed: sirius stays with him, a literal guard dog as he recuperates. after the most traumatic events of the series to date, the reader is at least consoled that harry potter has a person now, someone he loves for him to worry about and to worry for him, who catches him on the other side of traumatic events and makes them that bit much more bearable.

sirius and ginny during ootp

with sirius' role in harry's life established in GoF, OotP begins with harry, cooped up and restless at privet drive, angry with ron, hermione, sirius, and dumbledore for abandoning him at privet drive and keeping him in the dark. harry arrives at grimmauld place to find an anxious ron and hermione, with whom harry is angry and frustrated for having left him out of their summer hangs and having neglected him, by his assessment, in surrey. it’s the most conflict we’ve seen in the trio in terms of harry vs ron and hermione, and sets up one of the important themes of the book, which is harry no longer being solely emotionally fulfilled by the people he is closest to, including his two surrogate parents best mates but also his godfather. when he encounters sirius for the first time after the order meeting, he finds him surly, bitter, and depressed, furious that he is confined to his childhood home, and (understandably) much less able or willing to offer harry much in the way of comfort, apology or cheering words (‘Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius’s voice sounded.’) in this sense, the book opens with harry disappointed and/or more distant from all the people on whom he most depends and is usually closest to, and that there therefore is already an absence of a certain kind of emotional support in harry’s life that the plot demands be filled.

fresh off the back of harry’s row with ron and hermione is ginny’s reintroduction to the reader. after years of being so shy in harry’s presence she was often nearly mute, the reader finds that ginny is not only now speaking, but that her presence turns out to be remarkably refreshing. from her opening scene where ginny enters harry’s bedroom at grimmauld place, the reader discovers the new ginny is confident, up to no good, in cahoots with her most troublemaking brothers trying to intercept the order meeting, enterprising in her mischief (and very happy to lie to her mother’s face about it). she’s thoroughly unfazed by harry’s great display of rage that has just startled and upset ron and hermione. (side note: in both ootp and hbp, ginny’s opening scene is her entering harry’s bedroom, which is the kind of foreshadowing i personally find delicious). everyone else is behaving pretty much as they have been up to this point, but it’s ginny who is showcasing behaviours new to the reader, a signal that she might be about to play a different role in the series than she has done up to this point.

cut to the dinner scene. sirius and ginny are in the room together for the first time. sirius is moody: though he’s still able to laugh, enjoying displays of mischief and humour (the twins and the knife), he’s more bitter than harry and the reader have seen him since PoA. it’s an important scene for lots of reasons (not least the sirius v molly beef), but it’s also one where sirius and ginny are repeatedly drawn into mental association in the reader’s mind. it’s also a great scene because the behaviour of crookshanks the cat literally serves to foreshadow the behaviour of harry james potter in ways that are frankly extremely fun.

so! the sirius and ginny hints start small. from the start of the scene, ginny is amused by mundungus the crook (a man, we will learn, so disdained by her mother):

“Some’n say m’ name?” Mundungus mumbled sleepily. “I ’gree with Sirius. . . .” He raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. Ginny giggled. “The meeting’s over, Dung,” said Sirius, as they all sat down around him at the table. “Harry’s arrived.” 

sirius and harry, sat at the end of the table, are both greeted by crookshanks, sirius’ old accomplice from PoA:

'​​Harry felt something brush against his knees and started, but it was only Crookshanks, Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around Harry’s legs, purring, then jumped onto Sirius’s lap and curled up. Sirius scratched him absentmindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to Harry…

when fred and george’s levitation goes awry, flinging a knife at sirius (now that’s how you foreshadow a death), crookshanks bolts: 

‘Harry and Sirius were both laughing… Crookshanks had given an angry hiss and shot off under the dresser, from whence his large yellow eyes glowed in the darkness…’

during the meal, ginny’s with hermione, having a laugh with tonks, a character harry has just met but whom he has already decided to both admire and like. after the meal, when harry’s cheered up a bit and had his crumble (the man loves dessert), crookshanks finally emerges from his hiding place, having been coaxed out from his sulk by - you guessed it - one g. m. weasley:

‘…Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling butterbeer corks for him to chase.’

a grouchy character, initially drawn to sirius, but prone to lashing out and locking himself away, only to be lured back out into comfort and safety by ginny weasley? wow………. radical

after dinner, the argument between sirius and molly kicks off. sirius is arguing hard for harry’s right to know, though he makes no attempt to advocate for any of the other weasleys or for hermione. ginny’s noticeably singled out in her reaction to this scene, the text highlighting that she is particularly struck by this conflict as if it is of particular personal resonance, including someone standing up to her famously overprotective mother for once:

‘Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius.’

of course, molly loses the argument: harry gets to stay for juicy order deets (‘Sirius was right, he was not a child.’) after the row, ginny is the only person forbidden from hearing information about the order’s activities. suddenly, the roles are switched: it’s ginny who’s now furious and bitter to be kept out of the action:

‘“Fine!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Fine! Ginny — BED!”  Ginny did not go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall Mrs. Black’s earsplitting shrieks were added to the din. Lupin hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking his seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke. “Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?”’ 

it’s not just the parallels of confinement between harry, sirius and ginny that are so revealing, it’s also the dual maternal conflicts. ginny loud raging at her own mother sets off the howling relic of sirius’, serving to underline two characters who continue to grapple with maternal relationships that are complex and full of conflict, though by no means solely negative (sirius i see you sleeping in your mother’s bedroom babe. don’t think i think your relationship with walburga is just one of straight hate ok). when ginny later gets knocked down the stairs by fred and george, there’s more direct mrs weasley/walburga parallels, with the two of them literally shouting over each other during the ordeal lol. as such, the readers see that the conflicts being set up for sirius’ character in this book - frustration at confinement, conflict with a mother figure, drawn to more reckless and arguably irresponsible characters (mundungus, the twins) and courses of action - are also conflicts subtly playing out with the new ginny we’re meeting, too.

as the rest of the summer at grimmauld wears on, there are more examples of sirius and ginny foreshadowing. the scenes where the two characters interact serve to place ginny and sirius firmly in the same camp of people harry admires and has fun with, the troublemakers and the rebels. over the prefects issue, ginny not only is sat chatting with the troublemaking adults harry likes most, but actively draws sirius into conversation on the issue, likely knowing the answer will comfort harry, but also showing a curiosity and interest in sirius that suggests she admires him:

“I was never a prefect myself,” said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister. “My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.”  “Like what?” said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato. “Like the ability to behave myself,” said Tonks. Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.  “What about you, Sirius?” Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh…’

ginny’s choice to try and draw sirius into the conversation bears fruit: sirius confirms james was never a prefect, and harry’s sour mood is suddenly lifted. (‘All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.’) ginny is thus beginning to provide harry with subtle comfort and reassurance, especially as sirius, struggling with his own confinement,  is taking a less active role in trying to cheer harry up. what i also like is that we have evidence of how ginny views sirius - she’s curious about him and his past, she clearly thinks he and the other new rebellious adults are cool as shit, and she’s drawn increasingly away from her mother’s cautious overprotective approach towards these resistance fighters who prioritise the fight over safety. (it is noticeable to me that ginny does not become a prefect in HBP, suggesting sirius' example proved instructive).

we see more small parallels between sirius and ginny during the cleaning scenes. the battle against grimmauld place is an important symbol of one of the important themes of OotP as a book: a battle over past traumas and their persistent and unwieldy symptoms that are seemingly never-ending. while it’s harry’s experiences that, of course, take centre stage, sirius’, too, loom omnipresent throughout the text. it’s significant, then, that ginny’s own past gets brought up for the first time in three books here, albeit briefly: 

'They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry’s arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin; Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut…'

in this moment, we see sirius and ginny singled in the larger group as quick-thinking, shrewd characters, with a good instincts and common sense (if a bit of a tendency to get scrappy). their respective dark pasts are subtly alluded to. sirius whacks a spider trying to attack harry with a book that might as well be entitled my big book of family trauma. ginny, meanwhile, steps in when everybody present starts to be enchanted by a mysterious object luring them into danger by whacking it shut (gee i wonder why!) given this is the book that will see ginny mention the events of CoS for the first time in errrrr three years, it’s significant that the text is careful to draw ginny into this broader theme that unites sirius and harry, the constant reminders of traumatic pasts at every turn. we also see here the revelation that regulus black was a death eater. coming after news of percy weasley’s betrayal, sirius’ bitter dismissal of his younger brother deliberately mirrors ginny and the other weasleys’ attitude towards percy, this sense of pureblood families split over wizarding politics, often fatally. 

while harry fears his expulsion from hogwarts prior his hearing, he continues to fantasise about coming to live with sirius at grimmauld, and about being with a family member and finding an alternative home to hogwarts. sirius, as hermione astutely observes, tries to manage harry’s expectations and not to get his own hopes up: still, when harry is exonerated, sirius is visibly depressed, showing the beginnings of an emotional dependency on harry that harry feels great guilt over.when leaving grimmauld for the start of the school year, sirius, as padfoot, accompanies harry to king’s cross: unlike in GoF, though, he is spotted, and harry begins to worry much more actively about sirius’ vulnerability to capture, about his recklessness and about his judgement. concerned for sirius, and absent ron and hermione, who are in the prefects carriage, the person who stays with harry and offers him company is ginny. she sacrifices her own train journey (presumably with her own boyfriend) to find a carriage with harry and make sure he’s not lonely, bringing him to neville and luna and sorting him out after his embarassing cho run-in. it’s not a coincidence that once again we see ginny here taking care of harry crookshanks:

'“Where’s Crookshanks?” “Ginny’s got him,” said Harry. “There she is. . . .”  Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks. “Thanks,” said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. “Come on, let’s get a carriage together before they all fill up. . . '

once harry’s back at school, having left sirius behind to languish miserably in london, we see he's more isolated and alone than ever. he’s tormented by umbridge, endlessly (though often unfairly) frustrated with ron and hermione, ghosted by dumbledore, yet absent the more stable, reassuring sirius he came to know in GoF, unable to write candidly to him and faced with a much less well sirius in the opportunities they do have to speak face-to-face. as sirius’ mental health declines as he is shut up at grimmauld, his ability to support harry and comfort him starts to falter, and he becomes a much more uneven source of advice and support, particularly during his car crash floo appearance, where he’s much ruder than he has previously been (cutting off, ignoring their pleas for him to be more cautious, the infamous ‘the risk would have made it fun for james’ moment). this new sirius, clearly struggling, is much more happy to do up guilt trip to his godson than we have seen him to up this point (‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’ - you petty little shit, padfoot). all of this serves to increase harry’s anxiety about sirius’ wellbeing and reinforce harry’s sense of emotional isolation. even sirius’ encouragement on the DA is, as hermione points out, partly bound up in more selfish motivations (‘I think he’s really frustrated at how little he can do where he is… so I think he’s keen to kind of… egg us on.’)

ginny’s largely absent in this section of the novel. in the brief moments she does appear, it’s to inject humour (eg. her impressions at the DA meeting) and in little reminders that she now has a boyfriend, no longer harbours romantic feelings for harry, making sure the reader continues to hold her mentally apart from harry. harry, meanwhile, misguidedly tries to seek out a relationship with cho chang, who is showing clear signs of her own emotional distress and inability to meet harry’s emotional needs given her own grief. still, among this, there’s still room for some small subtle sirius/ginny parallels. once the DA plot picks up, we have another little sign that ginny weasley and sirius black think somewhat alike:

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?” 

“Trained in combat?” repeated Harry incredulously. “What does he think we’re doing here, forming some sort of wizard army? “That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing,” said Sirius, “or rather, that’s exactly what he’s afraid Dumbledore’s doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic.” 

with harry's isolation and need for more emotional support established in this first term, christmas at grimmauld offers more opportunity to subtly develop the sirius and ginny parallels, as well as to highlight ginny’s ability to fill the gaps left by sirius’ decline. after the attack on arthur weasley, the group arrive back at grimmauld:

‘Sirius was hurrying toward them all, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him. “What’s going on?” he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. “Phineas Nigellus said Arthur’s been badly injured —” 

could this be sirius literally lifting ginny up into plot significance? why yes it could

ofc the weasleys then argue with sirius about their right to go see their father. despite his own frustrations at being trapped at grimmauld, sirius proves the voice of reason and rational decision making against both ginny and the twins’ hotheadedness (ginny asks to borrow cloaks to go to the hospital: sirius: ‘Hang on, you can’t go tearing off to St. Mungo’s!’) crucially, though, when sirius points out that there are bigger things at stake - the work of the order and the resistance movement - it’s ginny who listens:

“Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won’t thank you for messing things up for the Order!” said Sirius angrily in his turn. “This is how it is — this is why you’re not in the Order — you don’t understand — there are things worth dying for!”  “Easy for you to say, stuck here!” bellowed Fred. “I don’t see you risking your neck!”  The little colour remaining in Sirius’s face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determined calm. “I know it’s hard, but we’ve all got to act as though we don’t know anything yet. We’ve got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?”  Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and shrug, and they sat down too. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats on either side of Ginny.  “That’s right,” said Sirius encouragingly, “come on, let’s all . . . let’s all have a drink while we’re waiting…’

there’s a lot going on here: ginny’s willingness to follow sirius’ orders, but also her willingness to accept an argument based on some idea of the greater good before any of her brothers. she and sirius are aligned here, and it’s her decision to accept sirius’ reasoning that proves the catalyst for her brothers to follow. we see here how ginny has come to see sirius: someone she looks up to and admires, an adult whose judgement she trusts and whose worldview she subscribes to. (as a character prone to hero worship - see her view of her big brother bill - i think this is noteworthy, and is behind a lot of my characterisation choices for ginny towards sirius in beasts). but we also see that ginny agrees with sirius' worldview. there are some things worth dying for, and self-sacrifice is part of that.

when harry goes to sirius for reassurance about witnessing arthur’s attack, he finds sirius unable to properly console him and convince him that he was not to blame for arthur’s attack. the reader gets the impression of sirius withholding information from harry (‘He could only see a sliver of Sirius’s face; the rest was in darkness’), and the scene ends with sirius clapping harry on the shoulder and leaving him ‘standing alone in the dark’. while sirius throws himself into christmas preparations, obviously delighted to have company, harry shrinks from the cheer and isolates himself. in the end, ofc, the only person that manages to pull harry out of his dark, brooding thoughts is ginny. the text is careful to note she’s sitting beside him on the tube back from st mungo’s, when he looks very unwell. then, in the ‘lucky you’ scene, she showcases some of the same skills harry first came to appreciate in sirius in GoF. she tells it to him straight: she’s sympathetic, but not overly gushing, and she reminds him of her own intensely frightening experience which she endured alone, something harry can relate to, even if the experience of possession is not.  it’s an important scene for lots of reasons, but it’s also, crucially, the intervention that causes harry’s mood to lift, and he gets to enjoy a christmas with his godfather, the thing he had most wanted in the run-up to christmas, and which becomes the only holiday period harry and sirius ever spend together: 

‘I’m not the weapon after all, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief, and he felt like joining in as they heard Sirius tramping past their door toward Buckbeak’s room, singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogriffs” at the top of his voice.’

of course, once christmas is over, sirius slips back into a depressed, gloomy state. harry wants a better goodbye than he gives him, merely giving him a quick one armed hug (there’s a real theme throughout harry and sirius’ relationship of very sparing physical contact on sirius’ part, which is obviously a hole in harry's life ginny will fill in - er - a big way). back at school, harry returns to umbridge’s increasingly draconian rule, maks a disastrous attempt at forging a relationship with cho, and continues to feel lonely, paranoid, and angry. unable to speak to sirius properly via letter or floo - and unwilling to open the present sirius has given him to communicate directly with him, the two-way mirror - harry is increasingly sullen, a mood that only worsens after seeing snape's worst memory.

the easter egg scene is obviously important for hinny for lots of different reasons. but here i just want to highlight how the scene serves to show ginny as both the conduit to sirius for harry, and someone whose behaviour echoes that of sirius in GoF when harry first began to open up to and seek comfort in him. harry is distressed by his now complicated feelings both towards the father he previously revered and towards sirius, who seemed to encourage james’ bullying behaviour. ginny hands harry a chocolate easter egg covered in snitches: chocolate, a canonical source of comfort against dark thoughts, and an egg that reminds him of the love of parent. the act makes him suddenly emotional, though he at first denies he’s upset. ginny presses carefully and sensitively, asking the right questions to get him to confess the source of his worry, waiting for harry to take his time to speak - all behaviours that echo sirius’ own effective listening techniques. ginny’s acquaintance with sirius, and knowledge of how significant he is to harry, is important here, too, and a subtle sign to the reader that he trusts ginny with knowledge about sirius after a long time of having her in the dark about his godfather.  the reader leaves the scene having seen ginny breakthrough to harry emotionally in a way for the second time in the novel, in a way no other character has done (‘he felt a bit more hopeful…’) 

of course, the course of action ginny has set in motion is itself risky and reckless (‘anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve’ is very marauders as a philosophy). the decision to go ahead with the plan the twins come up with is one harry sees as a decision on whether to be more like james and sirius - a risk taker - or to abandon the hero worship for the marauders he has lived with for so long. in the end, of course, it’s a win for the reckless troublemakers: he chooses to go ahead with the plan the twins have crafted and that ginny has set in motion, and to speak to sirius.

and yet. sirius is still alive - there is not need for ginny yet. for the remainder of the book, ginny has to beg to be included in the trio's plans and to be allowed to be a part of the plot to rescue sirius. she’s is often in conflict with harry, showing a lot of sirius’ bitterness at attempts at containment and to keep her out of the fighting. she grates against harry’s insistence that she is too young and inexperienced, and having to remind the trio that she, too, has come to care about sirius and wants to see him safe: 

“I’ve got a broom!” said Ginny.  “Yeah, but you’re not coming,” said Ron angrily.  “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. 

of course, it all ends in tragedy: sirius, desperate to go to harry’s aid and absolutely gunning for a fight after months of confinement, is killed, leaving harry alone. there a subtle clues that something has shifted in ginny’s relationship to harry and the trio in the scenes after sirius’ death, including ginny positioned as the mirror image to harry in the hospital: 

‘Harry was sitting on the end of Ron’s bed and they were both listening to Hermione read the front page of the Sunday Prophet. Ginny, whose ankle had     been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione’s bed…’

despite this, in the immediate aftermath of sirius’ death, harry is extremely alone. he is unable to work out what he needs (‘Whenever he was in company he wanted to get away, and whenever he was alone he wanted company.’) he tries to go to hagrid’s, but regrets it (‘He was starting to wish he was alone again’), leaving after hagrid reminds him of sirius’ core traits, an inability to stay out of the fight when he believes in the cause:

“But still, Harry . . . he was never one ter sit around at home an’ let other people do the fightin’. He couldn’ have lived with himself if he hadn’ gone ter help —” 

unlike at the end of GoF, harry is isolated by his grief and the revelation of the prophecy's contents by the end of this book. he goes alone to a secluded corner of the lakeshore, ‘sheltered from the gaze of passersby behind a tangle of shrubs’, and ‘[stares] out over the gleaming water’, and cries alone. there is no sirius or other person to catch him and console him in his grief. his person has died, and there’s a gap in his life again, just waiting to be filled: 

‘Wanting to impress Cho seemed to belong to a past that was no longer quite connected with him. So much of what he had wanted before Sirius’s death felt that way these days. . . . The week that had elapsed since he had last seen Sirius seemed to have lasted much, much longer: It stretched across two universes, the one with Sirius in it, and the one without.’

ginny and sirius parallels in HBP and DH

after sirius’ death, the parallels between sirius and ginny become more important as ginny moves into the centre frame as a character. at the start of HBP, harry arrives at the burrow and discusses his grief over sirius’ death with dumbledore in the burrow broom shed, acknowledging how profoundly the loss of a family member who cares singularly about him is affecting him. ('He felt stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best things about discovering his godfather . . . and now the post owls would never bring him that comfort again. . . .' beasts readers: there's a reason harry clings to letters!) of course, having reminded the reader of the gap in harry’s life that now needs to be filled, harry goes to sleep, the active reflection on his grief for sirius put to one side so the novel's plot can get underway. he'll go to bed mourning sirius and wake up in a sunlit bedroom. of course, ginny will walk into this bedroom too, only now things will be different: harry potter is back to the search for a loved one, for a family, and he's about to realise ginny is the one he wants to fill it. thus the start of the plot of ginny stepping into the role vacated by sirius beginneth.

so much of who ginny is in HBP is reminiscent of sirius. she frequently leaps into battle as harry’s protector (‘You’re taking orders from something someone wrote in a book?’, ‘Give it a rest, Hermione’), she’s scrappy (RIP zacharias smith), she’s funny and laughs easily in a way that less recalls sirius in the time harry knew him than sirius as harry sees him as a young man, in photographs or memories. she's the one who commits to the insane christmas decorations, determined to cheer everyone up over the festive period as sirius did the year before. she even enjoys the widespread admiration and lust of her peers, a trait that directly recalls sirius being eyed up by his peers in snape's memory. by the novel’s end, after dumbledore’s death, it will be ginny who goes to harry’s side after the climax of the plot and catch him in his grief just as sirius did in GoF, this time over dumbledore’s death: 

‘He did not want to leave Dumbledore’s side, he did not want to move anywhere. Hagrid’s hand on his shoulder was trembling. Then another voice said, “Harry, come on.’ A much smaller and warmer hand had enclosed his and was pulling him upward. He obeyed its pressure without really thinking about it.’

their breakup has sirius all over it. taking place at the lakeshore, the place where harry wept alone over sirius a year prior, harry draws on the circumstances of sirius’ demise as a reason he must break up with ginny (‘Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to.’) the breakup does little to shift what ginny has become in harry’s mind, though, and he spends all of DH thinking of her as he once thought of sirius: the person whose safety he most craves, the person he misses, someone he claims as his, and whom he associates with (now banished) hopes of a home and a family:

“It’s not a problem,” said Harry, sickened by the pain in his head. “It’s your family, ’course you’re worried. I’d feel the same way.” He thought of Ginny. “I do feel the same way.”

of course, echoes of sirius will also come into play during open war. it’s now ginny, not sirius, who is the one left behind for her own protection: in the run-up to the battle, harry finds himself once again faced with the prospect of confining his loved one for their safety, despite their desperation to fight and do the right thing. but these are thoughts for part 2…….

[apolloanddaphnis]

Sigtryggr x Uhtred's Daughter Headcanons Part I

Disclaimer: She is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter, a year older than Stiorra. Because of this I don't see the harm in naming her instead of calling her 'y/n', because I doubting 9th century times of Saxons and Danes with Dane parents she will be named Ashley or Cameron or Soledad, most of these languages didn't even exist yet.

With that rant aside, I am giving her the Norse name Kelda, and because she is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter she's going to resemble them.

Kelda is the oldest child of Uhtred and Gisela

When their mother left for Valhalla she took on the maternal role.

She looks after her father because he cannot look after himself when it comes to eating and getting enough sleep.

She encouraged Young Uhtred's dream of following the path of the nailed God, and was always trying to convince her father he must be supportive, and that he has that rebellious nature he inherited from him, and being a Rebel in this family means being a Christian

As much as she wanted to smother Stiorra for whining and complaining about being stuck with the children and in hiding, she refrained and understood how frustrating it could be. She prayed to Snotra at least ten times a day for guidance and wisdom.

She needed Stiorra though, for she's more of a warrior than Kelda.

Stiorra does what sisters do and taunt Kelda, saying she's too soft for a Dane and they would never want a flowery wife, Claiming she's better for a Saxon man.

Kelda rolled her eyes but she did worry.

She spends many time in the forest, worshipping the the huldrefolk, the skogsrå, Freya, and the nature deities. Often found dancing ritual circles outside, often naked.

She is very beautiful but doesn't see it herself, a womanly soft figure she resents, wanting to be petite like Stiorra like her mother was. Her breasts could hardly ever even be confined by her dresses.

And how she wished her hair were smoothe like silk like Stiorra and her mother.

Instead wild curls that tangled down to her wide hips was what Kelda possessed. A golden brown color amd usually adorn with flowers or prettily plaited. She washed it everyday with a lye soap she made with mint and lavender herbs, the lye is what caused her light brown hair to have a goldness to it. She would bathe in honeysuckle oil water she made as well and wash her face four times a day with chamomile soap and water. She dedicated these grooming times and beauty spells to Freyja.

Stiorra felt it to be silly and vain of Kelda, but these routines kept her constantly tumultuous life going, to being Uhtred's daughter, a little sane.

Kelda sewed herself dresses usually a similar color to cornflower, it was as her favorite as well as earthy blush tones, all made her hair color more pronounced, looked lovely against her sun-kissed skin (since she was always outside), made her very fully rosy lips appear more rosy, and her warm doe brown eyes appear almost golden.

She used to be very fond of Finan, and would learn Gaelic from him , but when she became older she realized how silly she was and felt nothing for him but familial love.

When she, Lady Aelswith, Stiorra, and Aethelstan were kidnapped, she was very afraid but only for the others not herself.

She vowed to do anything to protect them.

The stares of Haestens men did make her weary though, the way they'd comment on her sweet smell or her soft hair, or comment on her breasts. Stiorra squeezed her hand when she saw her sister tear up in fear of being taken by force.

But miraculously the journey to Winchester, or what was left of it, she was unharmed they all were.

When they arrived, she felt ill of the wild pregnant shieldmaiden, the Goddesses warned her she could feel it. But she stood in front of Stiorra and Aethelstan protectively looking brave and showing no weakness.

Catching the eye of the warlord, Lord Sigtryggr of Ireland.

His icy blue eyes had the most difficult time removing from this maiden who was obviously Freyja herself in the flesh.

He looked stoic to all in the room but all he could think of focus on, was how well her developed body filled out her torn blue dress, looking like a tempting huldrakall with her thick blood colored lips beckoning him like a spell, wild and beautiful goddess like hair with a color that reminded him of the sun lighting the earth, wanting to smell the locks. He looked into her wide, innocent eyes, lidded with long eyelashes and a pretty dark shade of the earth. Her cheeks are round and rosy despite her sun-kissed skin and Sigtryggr hardly recognized himself, for no maiden has ever made him feel this way. Unable to breathe, forgetting his plan and reason.

Brida demanded them to prove that they are Danes and asked the other girl who Frigga's handmaiden is, he was impressed with her correct answer proving her Dane heritage. She insulted the beauty and called her a Saxon outright. But she surprised Sigtryggr and all in the room when her sweet, soft voice spoke back with firmness. "I am a Dane like my sister, I worship Frigga and Freyja, I dance in midsommar for Sól and braid flower wreaths, I give myself to Freyja's Magick, pray at her alter. And right now I look to Snotra for guidance!"

His heart never raced so fast, and Brida seemed to recognize the girls claiming them to be the Dane-Slayer's children.

Brida wanted to throw the beauty to the men but Sigtryggr didn't let her, calmly demanding her presence with him.

Little did he know, she too could hardly take her eyes off of him as well.

[banschivs]

⧖.* 𝙽𝙿𝙲'𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝚁𝚄𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾...

Below is a list, that's likely to be added to, of possible characters you've got a good chance of seeing on this blog who aren't Nix. Largely these are written in for the purpose of continued expansion for Arthur and Nix's little world. Many are key to establishing some realism in interactions, and were either created/developed by Jessie and myself or aren't available in the rp-sphere. You may very well bump into any of the below...

𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙳𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚂.

Nix's 'estranged' father and Arthur's father-in-law. He's GCPD's Chief Inspector and so tends to be Arthur's ticket out of any trouble he might possibly get in. Before now he's been actively working against the police trying to snare and trap his daughter, Nix, to send her back to Arkham where she 'belongs'. Largely corrupt, with a herd mentality that puts his interest solely on his family, Grant is never far away from any trouble linked to Nix or Arthur. He has personally broken Arthur out of Arkham before, allowing at least two of his officers to be killed in the process.

A wildly traumatised man who lost his entire family to Skizm's founder, Riktor, when it was barely a decade old, Degraves has had to watch his daughter be trafficked and abused for years on years, without having a means to help her. Now that Arthur's a member of what Grant sees largely as the Degraves pack, he's settled some, knowing Nix is in the best possible hands and loved more than anyone else one the planet.

Often times he's transporting his son-in-law from the confines of GCPD's headquarters, handcuffed if he's annoyed him or kept him up too late. He also takes care of his three grandchildren often, and takes the place of Arthur's confidant. While still largely estranged from Nix who suffers a trauma response to being near him, he's very a key figure in the family.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙽.

Evelyn, Lilac, and Ivaylo show up often, of course, given that they spend the majority of their time around their parents. Arthur is most likely to have them, as a lot of his daily rituals are a little less risky than Nix's, but often times she will have one or more of her children with her in more docile circumstance. They each actually have a seat on the Court of Owls (or highchairs, I suppose) and so are likely to be with their parents at odd hours day and night, given the lack of choice Arthur and Nix have when it comes to Court meetings.

23.05.18 Evelyn is a bright, shy girl with emotional intelligence far beyond her years. She suffers from Primary Immunodeficiency Disease due to the circumstances surrounding her birth and wears an N-95 mask whenever possible outside of their home. She's not Arthur and Nix's biological daughter, but was in fact adopted by Arthur before Nix re-entered his life. Evelyn and Nix fell in love almost immediately, however, and her father decided that he wanted Nix to be her mother. Legally, and on any conceivable documents, Evelyn was born to Nix and Arthur. Nobody knows she was adopted. This for her own safety, given the evil means through which she came into the world. Her biological and abusive parents who sought to abandon the baby girl on the streets are long dead. Evelyn only knows her parents as Arthur and Nix, and so does the rest of the world. It's information anybody would know.

18.02.21 Lilac is the exact mirror of her mother. She's wacky, she's bold, she eats the spiciest pickles known to man and drinks the juice right after. She the spitting image of Nix; enormous blue eyes, the upturned nose, the penchant for gargoylesque expressions. Now that she's learning more words and partaking in further conversations, she's quite likely to lead a conversation with just about anyone. No judgement from this little girl, no 'ews', no obvious fear in her eyes. She's the Berserker of the three. As she grows older it's quite likely she'll take on the 'protector' role for her siblings, reflecting that instinct from her father. Though she looks like her mother, and acts on the same wavelength, the gentle and thoughtful nature comes entirely from Arthur. In repose, she also most resembles him; the softer edges of her features are Arthur's.

29.01.23 Ivaylo is a baby, spitting image of his father. His enormous green eyes are the first thing you see whenever anyone walks into a room with him. Born premature, he struggles with some breathing difficulties and snores whenever he sleeps. Mostly he's just getting used to having a head on his shoulders and figuring out what hands are.

𝙶𝙰𝚁𝚈 '𝙶𝙰𝙶𝚂𝚆𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙷'.

One of Arthur's only friends who isn't his wife, Gary used to work with Arthur at Ha-Ha's, but has since retired from his profession as a Harlequin. Since then he's gone from then-escaped Arthur's accidental roommate, to his friend, to his accomplice. When Evelyn first came into the picture, it was two men and a baby. Gary helped take care of her, dress her, feed her, and ultimately aided in saving the little girl's life. He's known as 'Uncle Gary' to all their children, and solidified his loyalty to Arthur and those he loves by aiding in the disposal of Evelyn's birth parent's bodies. He has told no one what he did with them, and will not, either.

While Nix was pregnant with Lilac and Arthur was incarcerated in the wake of the Skizm Raid, Gary spent a majority of his time in the then ground-floor flat the Flecks called home. He aided Nix in her continued struggle with sobriety and made he life far easier than it would have been were she truly alone before Arthur returned home.

Since then he's solidified his place as a partner and loose member of the family, re-entering Arthur's life (he never left Nix's) in the wake of the Riddler streams, eager to clear his old roommate's name. Now he works alongside the two of them, managing the Whisper Gang's arms trading and generally keeping tabs on what comes in and out; arms, rumours, anything. You'll typically find him while 'working' in a deep green three-piece suit with purple accents. Nix spends more casual time with him than Arthur necessarily might. He's one of the only people who isn't Arthur who saw her as a person from the moment he met her.

𝙱𝚁𝚄𝙲𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴 '𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙼𝙰𝙽'.

Arthur's younger brother. Their sibling relationship is admittedly rocky due to the circumstances of their relation. Thomas Wayne met Penny Fleck, then Panya Flerko on a business trip to Russia, and supposedly fell so in love that he couldn't bear to return without her. Bringing her home to Wayne Manor as a maid, the two continued their affair up until Penny fell pregnant, at which point, and the subsequent birth of Arthur following, the coverup began. Bruce grew up without the knowledge of his older brother who once shared his bedroom before he was born while warded to the Waynes. A short visit from Arthur, during which he throttled Alfred in front of the boy's eyes, is the sole memory he has of his brother from when he was a child.

Their relationship and shared parentage was revealed during the infamous Riddler streams, which painted Arthur in particular as a fraud and liar, scamming the masses he never actually wanted behind him in the first place. This not being the typical means by which one's reunited with a long-lost sibling, means both men struggle with the overwhelming sense of familiarity, love, and the bond they've shared their whole lives in secret. Bruce is a stoic and lost soul who, while not uncaring, suffers with the same anxiety and loss Arthur does by sinking into himself, as opposed to opening up.

In some circumstances he acts as his brother's protector, and in others it's the opposite way around. Particularly when the two are working together, or partnered up, they function almost as one. That and the shared support necessary between the two of them is why it's important that Bruce is here.

𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙷𝚄𝚁 𝙵𝙻𝙴𝙲𝙺.

Big mention to the man himself; Nix's husband and sole tie to humanity and love. In circumstances (because it's roleplay) where Arthur would be present, I'll likely write him in, even as a small presence. The two spend virtually all their time together and so often it makes the most sense that Arthur's never far away. They're also exceedingly protective of one another, and worry for each other often. Even if it's something smaller like a string of text messages, or a quick phone call, Arthur is never really far from Nix, nor she from him.

Typically Jessie and I will write each other's characters, to each other. When it's most important for conversation to flow and for continuity to work best. So, if you are reading our threads and wonder, that's why. We're partners in real life and trust each other with one another's muses without hesitation.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Water (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

A/N: I finally finished the Miami shower sex fic. It’s roughly ~5K words of nonsense, 60% is filth, and the urge to re-write it is strong, but here it is.

Enjoy!

~v~

Being in Miami with Naomi unnerves Ethan in ways he can’t articulate. They aren’t in the confines of the hospital, bound by the strict boss and subordinate boundaries he’s attempted to set for them. And while they’re in the city for a medical conference, he can’t help but feel like he’s just Ethan and she’s just Naomi.

Her presence is overwhelming and intoxicating. From the way she took charge and ordered them drinks on the plane, to the way her luggage spills over their shared hotel suite despite being checked in for less than 3 hours, to the way it feels effortless just walking along the beach with her, Ethan can’t escape her and the role she’s slipped into feels too familiar and comfortable, which actually gives off the opposite effect. It terrifies him.

“We’re in Miami, for goodness’s sake, our hotel is literally on the water, and we are going to the beach,” is what Naomi told him after she slipped out of her plane clothes and put on something more appropriate for the warm Miami weather. She didn’t give him any time to object–and boy did he want to–before catching his wrist and dragging him out of their hotel room.

And that’s how he ended up taking a walk on the beach, the hot sand sticking to his toes, Naomi by his side. For reasons he’s not ready to face, he can’t say no to her and it’s infuriating. But on the flip side, the way her cheeks turn up and eyes sparkle at the enjoyment of the little things like this make his insides twist, and he’s a prisoner to her happiness.

“Come on, we’re hundreds of miles away from the hospital, the beautiful sun is beaming down on us, and there’s nothing but warm sand and ocean breeze around us. You have to admit that this is nice,” Naomi urges, poking Ethan in between the ribs.

They came to Miami on a mission, and that was to get help for Naveen and also fulfill his duties to the hospital. Frolicking on the beach was nowhere on the agenda.

“We’re here for work. And besides, I could be spending this time catching up on sleep or enjoying our air conditioned suite. That’s my definition of nice.”

“I swear, you probably came out of the womb a grumpy old man,” Naomi teases. “At least try to unwind.”

“The fact that you managed to drag me out here is testimony enough, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” Naomi says, leaving no room for debate. This is one of those times where Ethan isn’t all that enamored by her stubbornness.She sits down in the sand, throwing down her sandals. She extends a hand, and after a few seconds Ethan sighs and begrudgingly accepts it, allowing her to pull him down as well.

“Now close your eyes,” Naomi orders, watching Ethan closely to see if he listens. Once he realizes that she isn’t going to stop glaring at him, he closes them. “Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this so you’ll eventually leave me alone.”

“Always the fuddy duddy. Can you sit in complete and utter silence for 10 seconds? Please?”

Something about the way she says that word only adds to the list of things she does that make him uneasy. Only because he hates the way he responds to her plea, something stirring in the pit of his stomach.

It’s hard for him to handle the stillness of the moment. He’s gotten too used to always moving, always having something to do, but he sucks it up and tries.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Naomi asks.

“Is it bad to say I don’t know?”

“Yes. I’d kill to have your vacation days.”

“Well what about you?”

“I went to Aspen with my family for Christmas last year,” Naomi replies. “We used to go on at least one vacation a year when I was a kid. I don’t know how much of that I’ll be doing with my residency, but it’s nice to get away, even if it’s for a few days, you know?”

“I do. I think it’s been a solid three years since I had a real vacation. I went to Italy.”

“Rome?”

“Florence.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Of course.” Ethan feels her thumb trace a circle on the inside of his palm, and that’s when he notices that they never stopped holding hands when she pulled him down, and his pulse skitters. Part of him believes Naomi doesn’t notice she’s doing it, so he stays silent.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“I’m fluent in all of the Romance languages,” Ethan admits.

Naomi scoffs and playfully nudges him with her shoulder. “No one likes a show-off, polyglot.”

“What about you?”

“I speak very minimal French. My grandma taught me some basics when I was a kid and spent my summers with her, and I tried to fine tune my skills in high school, but I’m not fluent.”

This is the first time he’s heard her talk about her family, even a little bit, and he clings to the information as if it’s precious.

This time when the conversation tapers, Ethan actually doesn’t mind the silence, and he revels in the presence of the pretty intern beside him, her hand still warm in his.

“I should’ve booked you a spa treatment,” is how Naomi eventually breaks the silence. Ethan’s eyes snap up and he stares at her. “What?”

“I don’t think I’m a spa treatment kind of guy.”

“The sauna could be nice. Or a mud bath.”

“You’re such a comedian, Rookie.”

“I’m serious!” Naomi leans forward and presses her thumb between his eyebrows, gently massaging the crease. “I think a day at the spa would be good for you. Relatively speaking, you’re too young to be getting wrinkles.”

“What does that mean, relatively speaking?”

“You’re young in comparison to the average life span, but compared to me you’re…”

Ethan raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you trying to call me old?”

“It’s fine,” Naomi assures him. “Lucky for you, I like older guys.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Naomi realizes her grave mistake. She’s said too much, revealed her slip, and the double meaning of the sentence hangs in the air between them. Ethan’s eyes widen. His eyes fall on their still interlocked fingers before flitting back to her face, and that’s when Naomi notices that they’ve been holding hands. This entire time.

Ethan leans forward, until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Feeling bold, he takes one of her loose ringlets, curling it around his finger.

“Ethan, I–”

He stands so abruptly, Naomi almost falls over but she catches herself with her hands.

Ethan clears his throat, trying to center himself. What the hell was he thinking, nearly kissing his intern? How did he get so caught up that he almost crossed that line?”

Naomi stands up, wiping off the back of her shorts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Dr. Valentine.”

The name change feels like a physical strike. He hasn’t called her by her formal title the entire time they’ve been out here, but now she’s back to Dr. Valentine?

“Are you sure because I could’ve sworn that you were about to–”

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough of this beach excursion for the day, and I’m going to rest before we have to go to the party later on?”

A party? Where the fuck did that come from? “Ethan, slow down. A party? What party are you talking about?”

“Every year there’s a party hosted in conjunction with the party. It’s a black tie event, so please dress accordingly. See you later.”

His long legs carry him away before she can even reply, and he’s trudging back to the hotel, leaving Naomi more confused than she was ten minutes ago.

They were sharing a moment and Ethan was going to kiss her…right? This isn’t some fever dream, she didn’t just make that up, it is a fact. And just as fast as they were connecting, he put up a wall and shut her out.

She sits down again, ruminating over the situation and trying to wrap her head around it all.

After a while, annoyance forms in the pit of her stomach. Ethan doesn’t get to just play with her like a ping pong. And if she misread the situation, he should be big enough to tell her that to her face, not run off. And the more she thinks about it, the more she stews, and the annoyance turns into anger simmering under her skin. She stands, brimming with righteous indignation. He doesn’t get to walk away from her, and she’s going to tell him as such.

The trek back to the hotel only makes her angrier, because she only has time and opportunity to think, especially with the long elevator ride up to their suite. Once she makes it to the room and the door shuts behind her, she hears some shuffling around coming from the en-suite as well as running water.

“Ethan, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you need to explain whatever that was on the beach,” Naomi starts. She doesn’t get an immediate response from him. “The walls aren’t that freaking thick, I know you can hear me.” She inches closer to the door and notices that it’s been left slightly ajar. “And you left the door open, genius. Now I really know you can hear me.”

Maybe the walls really are that thick because she thinks she hears him talking, but it’s muffled. She almost lets it go until she hears a gruff, “Naomi!” come from the other side of the door.

So he can hear her. Good! Because she has a lot to say. She doesn’t give it a second thought, she charges towards the bathroom and forcefully pushes open the door.

What on earth was she thinking, barging into the bathroom like a bat out of hell?

The correct answer to that is she wasn’t thinking, fueled only by her need to argue with the infuriating man who left her on the beach like an idiot.

And now she’s standing in front of him and he’s stark naked.

The professional clothes and the white coat he wears at the hospital do an amazing job of keeping him contained, but here in this bathroom, Naomi realizes for the first time just how massive this man is. Tall isn’t enough of a description. His wide shoulders lead down to powerful arms, all corded muscle and tension. His chest, those defined pecs and a six-pack. Of course he’d be built like this underneath those clothes. Like a Greek fucking god. Of course.

That still isn’t what steals her breath straight from her body. It’s his hand, strong and powerful, wrapped around the base of his cock.

She should really say something. Apologize profusely. Beg to keep her spot in the competition, beg to keep her job at Edenbrook period. But she can’t. Any form of coherent or rational thought has been banished from her brain, and this soaking wet image of her boss is the only thing running through her mind.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates.

And if he’s still thinking about the moment they shared less than an hour ago, coupled with the fact that she heard him call out her name, it’s safe to assume that Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates to thoughts of her.

The realization makes her flame, and Naomi swears her body temperature has spiked to near feverish. And the fact that Ethan isn’t doing anything to right the situation—putting his hands in a more appropriate place, saying something, yelling at her to leave—only makes things more insane. He keeps his eyes fixed on her, his gaze so intense, she swears he can see her brain.

The angel on Naomi’s shoulder is screaming at her to stop gawking at him like some fish out of water, but she can’t. Now that she’s seen him, really seen him, she doesn’t know how she’ll ever go back to him being anything other than this, six feet, five inches, 200 pounds of pure unadultered sex.

The urge to touch him is so strong, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to do anything else until her hands are on him.

Swallowing whatever nerves are trying to creep up, Naomi takes a tentative step forward, and reaches for the glass door. The glass pane slides away so slowly, she almost wonders if it’s her subconscious giving her enough time to bolt before she makes even more of an ass of herself, but she ignores whatever annoying voice in her head is telling her to go.

“I’m not an idiot, Ethan. I’m not naive, and I’m not blind.” Naomi takes another step forward, the steam of the shower and a light spray of warm water hitting her face. Gingerly, her hand finds purchase on his chest, and they settle on his left pec.

His heart is beating so wildly, Naomi actually gasps at the erratic thumping beneath her fingertips. “Naomi–”

“I was so confused earlier,” Naomi confesses. “I thought you and I had been vibing these past few weeks, I thought you and I actually had something. And then we had our near first kiss earlier, but you pushed me away and ran off faster than a lightning strike, and I was hurt, and convinced that I completely misread the situation. So imagine my surprise when I walk in on this. You are horribly affected by me.”

“Naomi.” The way he says her name is so much rougher than it was previously, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Yup. So affected.

“It’s okay though, you don’t even have to say anything,” she continues. Taking Ethan’s free hand, she places it on her own chest so Ethan can feel her own erratic heartbeat. “Because trust me, I feel the exact same way.”

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to pull her in by the front of her t-shirt instead, what very little restraint he had over himself gone in this instant. The full blast of water comes as a shock, but Naomi can’t even react to it before Ethan slants his mouth over hers, pulling her into a bruising kiss.

The first thing she notices is just how rough his stubble is as it scrapes her mouth. The second thing is she probably would have fallen over due to how forcefully he pulled her into the shower, and she’s thankful his grip on her is as tight as it is.

Fireworks. A million fireworks going off at the same time. That’s what kissing Ethan feels like.

He sets the pace, but she kisses him back with just as much fervor. He kisses her like they have all the time in the world and none at all, passionate and intense, like he wants to devour her.

Her lungs protest against this endeavor, practically begging her to inhale something other than Ethan. But she doesn’t want to stop kissing him, even if it’s just for a second.

Thankfully Ethan makes the first move to separate them, breaking the kiss. His tongue licks along her neck and her head falls back in pleasure. So caught up in their kiss, it’s easy for Naomi to forget that she’s fully clothed, Ethan tugging at the fabric of her shirt quickly reminding her.

The water has the clothes clinging to her like a second skin, and Naomi giggles at the frustrated huffs Ethan lets out in his quest to undress her. The giggle turns into a full on squeal as she hears the telltale sound of a rip as her t-shirt ends up on the shower floor, followed by her shorts, and Naomi has to kick off her sandals to assist.

Once her clothes are in a sopping wet heap on the floor, Ethan regains control of the situation. Naomi’s back is pressed against the cold marble wall and Ethan’s mouth is on hers again, bruising and hard. It’s almost like he wants to punish her through his kisses.

“I have tried my absolute hardest to keep you at arms length,” is the first full sentence he’s said since Naomi entered the bathroom. “I compartmentalize my feelings for you, I am constantly reminding myself of our power dynamic. And you just keep inching your way closer at every single turn despite my best efforts.”

Naomi hums in reply. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to keep me away in the first place.”

He’s kept her away because he knew. Ethan knew Naomi would find a way to get under his skin, leaving him to feel open and raw like he just got scrubbed with sandpaper. Having her like this is a fantasy come true, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that once this line is crossed, he’ll never want to go back. He can be a selfish bastard sometimes.

“If we do this then–”

“I’m a big girl, Ethan,” Naomi assures him. One of her hands reaches in the tiny space between them, and she grips his erection. Ethan shudders and leans forward, crowding her space even more as she strokes him at a leisurely pace. “And we can talk about all of the messy stuff later, but right now, talking is the last thing on my mind.”

“Alright, Rookie. Enough talking.”

Her underwear is off before another word can be uttered.

Naomi isn’t sure what she was expecting, but he slides two fingers inside of her before she can think, and the sharp intrusion leaves her gasping. Ethan doesn’t treat her with kid gloves, the quite opposite actually. Whatever sound she’s going to make, he quickly swallows with a kiss.

Naomi is expressive. It’s one of the first things Ethan noticed about her. She’s going to be seen and heard at all times, and that extends to the bedroom. And since he has effectively cut her off with a kiss, Naomi sinks her nails into him, one set on his shoulder, the others raking through his hair, urging him to continue his ministrations. Good.

He breaks the kiss, leaving a trail of tiny kisses and bites along her jaw, neck, and collarbone, paying special attention to her nipples, lavishing them with his tongue. He drops to his knees in front of her, urging her to lean backwards against the wall behind them and Naomi does so without an ounce of hesitation.

The one hand not currently playing her like a fiddle runs along the smooth expanse of her curves, tracing every dimple and mark he can find. He does this until his eyes fall on the tiny tattoo marking her skin, resting on her hip. “I never took you as a tattoo kind of girl.”

“I have a few secrets left to tell, Ramsey.”

“Why on your hip?”

“My parents would’ve killed me if I got it somewhere visible,” Naomi explains breathlessly as Ethan continues to stroke her, slowly coaxing her towards an orgasm.

Ethan places a kiss on her left hip, right below the tattoo as if it’s to be revered before sucking a mark on it. Something to remember him by.

“Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“Eyes on me,” Ethan commands her. It’s a tough task because the steam and the water have made it difficult to see and she would enjoy nothing more than to close her eyes and fully revel in what he’s doing to her, but they manage to lock eyes. “Good girl.”

The first swipe of his tongue against her makes her legs buckle, but thankfully Ethan keeps her upright.

His fingers curl inside of her, and Naomi swears her vision goes blurry for a second, but not once do her eyes waver from his. Ocean blue irises hold her gaze, and she feels like they’re burning her from the inside out. Everything is hot, too hot, but at the same time she feels like she might go insane without it.

The strokes are slow and languid. In, out, curl, twist, keeping pace with the way his tongue laves against her clit. Soon her breathless whimpers become more ragged, more labored and she grabs a handful of Ethan’s hair, tugging it so hard, she’d worry about actually pulling it out if she cared about anything other than finding the edge of the cliff he’s so close to pushing her off. Ethan can tell she’s close. The incessant tugging at his scalp, the increasingly louder moans, and the way her hand slaps against the wet tile.

She knows it’s coming, but her orgasm takes her by surprise, pleasure seizing her at the base of her spine. Her legs tense up and her entire body falls forward, taking Ethan with her. He cushions her fall, and they both land with a hard thud.

Naomi giggles again. And soon that giggle becomes a full on laugh, so uncontrollable that Ethan wonders if she’s snapped.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never…fallen over during sex before,” saying that out loud makes her laugh again.

“And is this a good thing?”

Naomi leans forward and kisses Ethan, smiling through it. “We’ll you’re the first guy to ever make my legs give out in the middle of an orgasm so…yes. I’d say it’s a very good thing.”

Well that is a healthy ego boost, Ethan thinks to himself. “Good to know.”

When blood circulation has returned to her legs, Naomi stands up, pulling Ethan along with her. She deposits him on the spacious bench built in along the back wall of the shower and he falls onto the seat with a hard thud.

He watches through hooded lids as Naomi straddles him, undulating against him in a way that makes him want to take control and bury himself to the hilt inside her.

“Question for you, Ethan Ramsey,” Naomi starts.

“Answer for you, Naomi Valentine.”

“When I walked in here, were you thinking about me? Was I the subject in your dirty little fantasy?”

“Always,” Ethan is shocked by how breathless the answer comes out, but at this point, pride and ego aren’t needed. Not when they’re like this. “Since day one, I have been consumed with nothing but thoughts of you.”

“Mhmm, what was I doing in this particular fantasy?” Naomi asks. She takes him into her hands, and at a tortuous pace, rubs the swollen tip of his erection against her clit, drawing out a moan from the older man.

His memory fails him. Nothing he conjures up in his head will ever be comparable to the sight of a naked Naomi in his lap. She’s so beautiful, water droplets clinging to her skin, lips kiss swollen, loose strands of hair clinging to the sides of her face, her round cheeks flushed.

He doesn’t remember what the fantasy entailed, he just knew this woman’s presence was so overwhelming, if he didn’t expel some of the tension, he wouldn’t survive going to a black tie event with her.

“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Ethan says honestly. “The real you is so much better.”

“I think I like that answer.”

Ethan lifts her by the hips and in one smooth thrust, he’s fully sheathed inside of her. He notices that way Naomi’s eyes are fixed on where they’re joined, glazed over by pleasure and he’s never seen something so erotic.

She starts to move, slowly at first because she’s still way too sensitive from her last orgasm to do anything else. But the slow pace she sets does nothing to ease her, it only makes things worse. Every slow glide, every brush of his pelvis against her is magnified tenfold, and the heat she felt earlier has turned into a bull blown inferno, consuming every inch of her. But now, the only way out is through, and she’s trapped in a delicious purgatory until the next wave hits. It only intensifies when Ethan’s mouth closes around one of her nipples, sucking fiercely. “Oh, fuck.”

He releases the bud with a soft ‘pop’, pulling a soft groan from her lips. Her head falls back, but Ethan catches a fistful of her hair and drags her back, forcing her to make eye contact. “Eyes on me, Rookie. I want to see your face.”

The tiny pinpricks of pain at her scalp give way to pleasure as his grip on her tightens. “Harder.”

Ethan smirks and wordlessly obeys the order, pulling Naomi’s hair even harder as she moans. Huh. He’s going to tuck this information away for a later date and time.

The hand not holding her hair goes back to her hip and he squeezes tightly before guiding her up and down. And that’s when the pressure starts building again, up, and up, and up, until the only sounds that can be heard are the obscene slaps of their wet skin and her broken whimpers. His hand leaves her hip, not having to move far before his thumb is on her clit, working it in soft circles.

Naomi comes so hard, her teeth chatter and she’s almost afraid of cracking them. Unable to keep up the eye contact, she leans forward, resting her forehead against his. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he rocks into her, trying to chase his own release.

“Naomi, I…fucking I’m going to–”

She nods, understanding exactly what he’s trying to say. She bites down on his earlobe, tugging. “Inside me.” Then she kisses the patch of skin right below his ear and grinds against him once more. “Or on the tattoo.”

Holy fuck. That alone sets him off like a bottle rocket. He bites down on her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

His heart beats so wildly, he doesn’t know if it will ever return to its normal resting state. With his arms wrapped around her like this, he wonders if this is their new normal. How that he’s been with her like this, how on earth will she go back to being his subordinate. Everything about her feels like euphoria, her taste, her touch, her scent is embedded in him, so deep in his skin, she might as well be woven into his DNA. But the thing about it is, he’s not sure he wants it to.

On top of being a selfish bastard at times, he is wildly possessive.

It takes a long time for them to separate , neither one of them wanting to move or disrupt the peaceful little bubble they’ve created within the confines of this shower.

Eventually Ethan pulls Naomi off of him, but his grip on her remains steady. He stands as well and reaches behind him, grabbing the bottle of shower gel he has on the shelf. It isn’t until the clean scent of citrus and sea salt hits her nose does Naomi realize he’s using his shower gel. A chill sweeps through her. Sure they just had sex–great sex even–but sharing this man’s shower gel is a subtle intimacy that she wasn’t prepared for, and her chest goes tight.

“I smell like you,” Naomi murmurs sleepily.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not, you always smell good. I do draw the line at sharing shampoo. Whatever shit you use might destroy my hair.”

Ethan snorts. “I saw the amount of hair goop you stuffed into your suitcase. Trust me, I won’t get in the way of that routine.”

Once they’re both sufficiently lathered, they duck under the water to rinse off, and they finally step out of the shower. The entire room is full of steam, and Naomi almost feels bad that they wasted so much hot water. God, her skin is going to be so dry if she doesn’t moisturize soon.

Ethan wraps her in a large white terry cloth bathrobe before wrapping a towel around his waist.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t give me any sort of notice about this party,” Naomi huffs. Ethan rolls his eyes and takes a step forward, his hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until her back is firmly against his chest.

“It’s in a few hours, how much more notice do you need?”

“What if I didn’t pack an appropriate dress?” Naomi implores hypothetically. “Or shoes?”

He shrugs. “I have a credit card, and this hotel has a boutique.”

“Well lucky for you, and your wallet, I packed a few dresses,” Naomi says. Her mother taught her to be prepared for any situation, including the spur of the moment black tie event. “I’ll pull together something decent.”

“You’re beautiful, you always look more than decent.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere with me, Ramsey.”

Using the palm of her hand, Naomi wipes some of the steam off of the mirror in front of them and takes a good look in the mirror. She looks thoroughly debauched. It’s going to take a miracle to pull herself together with just a few hours’ notice.

She also notices the dark mark blooming on her right shoulder, outlined by teeth marks. Ethan’s bite is only going to get darker and more prominent as time ticks on.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover up this mark you gave me though.”

Ethan slides the robe off of her shoulder to examine the bite mark. He runs his thumb along it soothingly before planting a kiss on the spot. “I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

Instead of replying immediately, Ethan bends down slightly and scoops up Naomi, bridal style. “How about I give you a matching one on the left shoulder?”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest @schnitzelbutterfingers

[sunflowerstache]

Did You Order a Pizza?

Halloween 2020 is filled with lots of surprises for the Styles family

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you had. great Halloween and you're feeling alright these days! This is a one shot following the family from my pic Another World, which you can find here! I hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to hear all your thoughts!! I love y'all!

Word Count: 7.6k

~~~

“And you’re sure he’s back?”

“You heard him on the phone. He’ll be waiting for Jeff so you’ve got plenty of time while he waits for the man to not show up.” Glenne smiled at you from her spot in the driver’s seat. “Although, I think he’ll like who does show up instead.”

Harry had left for Los Angeles so that he could begin filming a new Olivia Wilde film, leaving you and Bella in London. And as much as you’d have loved to join him on such a monumental step in his career from the start, you were unable to travel with him. Not only were you unable because your daughter was still in school at the time, but because of the pandemic that was still going on throughout the world. It prevented for most of the year’s plans to take place, which absolutely crushed Harry. He was looking forward to Love on Tour and showing his fans how much fun this new era was for him, more than you’d seen from him in a long time, but he would always put the safety of his fans before entertainment, so it was an easy choice to postpone. However, no tour meant that he could gladly accept a leading role in a film alongside some of the most well known actors in the industry.

But it only took you a few days after his departure to find out you couldn’t be so far from him. As fate would have it, Bella’s class was turning into online learning once the half term break ended, which meant one of the most important reasons you were still in London had vanished. So, after spending two weeks quarantining and making sure you took all the necessary precautions, both you and Bella got tested and flew to the states with your negative results. From the start, you had told Jeff of your plan and he and Glenne gladly welcomed you into their home once you arrived, wanting to spend time with Bella for a few days after going so long not seeing the toddler. And finally, once you got the negative results of yet another test, you and your daughter were off to stay with Harry.

Jeff had spoken with your boyfriend over FaceTime earlier that morning, feeding Harry some story about needing to solidify some merch designs, and making sure that Harry would be patiently waiting for his manager after he finished filming for the day. But the plan was to have Glenn drive Jeff’s car so he suspected nothing seeing it pull up, and surprise him when it was you and Bella getting out the car instead of the oldest Azoff son.

“I can’t wait.” you groaned out through the grin taking over your face. You bounced in your seat slightly, pressing both hands to your cheeks just thinking about seeing his shocked face when he opened the door expecting Jeff, but seeing you and Bella instead.

“What?” The question was brought up after a soft chuckle was heard from Glenne’s side of the car as soon as you were halted at a stoplight.

“Nothing. It’s just cute how excited you are to see him after being apart for what, a month?”

“27 days.” you whispered, urging yourself to force down a smile. “But who’s counting?”

“You guys have been together nearly a decade, and you still get all flustered when you talk about him.”

The way you and Harry acted around one another was something that was always commented on by people in your inner circle, for that exact reason. Without a doubt, your relationship had gone through some of the toughest times, but that was bound to happen when you’ve been with someone since you were sixteen… and even more likely when every moment of your life was documented to the public. But those tough times never seemed to last, because at the end of the day, Harry was everything you ever wanted and vise versa. He was what you daydreamed about in a partner while growing up. And being with him was like being with the sun. He made you feel loved and cared for, you had more fun with him than anyone else on the planet, and every single day with him felt like a new adventure. As a kid, you’d thought the way people described the love of their life was corny, nothing but a thing of fairy tales, yet that feeling that bloomed inside your chest and tummy every time you thought about Harry told you that it was very real.

“Dunno.” you shrugged, “He’s my person. Even seven and half years later, he still makes me feel like he did on our first date.”

“That what’s got you looking extra glowy or is that just another secret to staying in the honeymoon phase forever?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied quickly, finding it hard to keep the giddy feeling that was now bubbling in your lower stomach under control when you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was squinting at you with suspicious eyes, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek, which forced a laugh to fall from you. “What? I don’t! Just miss him, that’s all. Isn’t that right baby? We just missed daddy loads, huh?” making sure to quickly take the attention away from yourself, you turned as much as you could in your seat to look at Bella in the back.

“Yes! I miss daddy so much!” her little legs kicked against the carseat and her arms lifted high above her head, a huge smile plastered on her face. “I have so many drawings and stickers to show him and Mr. Jeff got new socks!”

“I know, we got them all tucked away nice and safe so you can show him. Do you remember what the plan is when we get there?” you asked her, your breath getting caught in your throat for a moment when the sun shined just right through the rear window. It was a perfect day in LA, sunny and warm and just as the car pulled onto the street you knew was where Harry was staying, the sunlight danced across Bella’s perfect complexion. She was a spitting image of her father, down to the freckles dotting her face, the deep set dimples that never seemed to disappear, and the curls constantly falling in front of her face no matter how hard you tried to keep them tamed. Every now and again you caught a glimpse, sometimes through the kitchen window while she was playing in the backyard and other times while her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept on your chest, of just how breathtaking Bella is. What angelic beauty the love between you and Harry had managed to create.

“Yeah mumma!” she smiled, giving you two thumbs up, very clearly excited about getting to see her dad again. “You ‘member my costume, right mumma?”

“Of course I did. Put it in the bag right next to mine.”

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m really ‘cited about it.”

“I know baby. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” you knew Harry would get a kick out of what Bella decided to be for Halloween. She had come to you months ago, actually sat you down in the kitchen and explained what she wanted to do like she was in a little business meeting. And of course as soon as she told you, you had to laugh because it was perfect.

“Yeah.”

Her whisper was the last thing said within the confines of the car before the three of you pulled up in front of a beautiful white house nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills. It was much smaller than the house the pair of you had just sold just blocks away, but everything about it was so much homier. A brick walkway sandwiched between a line of shrubbery and a white stone wall led up to the house, which itself was an odd shape. The very front of the house came up to an asymmetrical point instead of a typical flat roof, and the rest of the house was pushed back slightly, so that none of the face was level, and the house almost seemed cut in half horizontally from the distinct line between white stone bottom and black paneling on the upper level of the home. Finally, a brick downhill driveway, made of the same brick as the walkway, led to an all black garage that sat just below the rest of the home. The small details is what made the building give off such a cozy vibe; a vibrant green front door, plant boxes hanging off a few of the upper windows, a black wooden archway and lanterns surrounding the front door, a few potted plants on the side of the walkway, and the faint golden hues peaking through the closed blinds.

“Cute, huh?” Glenne laughed, putting the car in park and turning fully in her seat to look at you.

“Yeah, it actually really is. Reminds me a bit of our old place.”

“Place in London, right? That’s what I told Jeff.” she said at the same time, looking behind her at Bella while you got out of the car. “You ready to go, tulip?”

“Yes please!”

Her hands were already fumbling with the seat belt by the time you opened her door, the excitement itching at her in preparation for what was to come, but she graciously waited for you to sort her out.

“Thank you mumma.” she muttered casually once you had her unbuckled and lifted into your arms.

“You’re welcome, baby.” the way Bella was the most polite little girl you had ever known never failed to make your heart soar. You and Harry were so proud of the person she was becoming, whether she was that way because she saw how everyone in her life acted or because she was born with the kindest little soul, it didn’t matter. She always made sure the people around her were happy and having fun, constantly reminding people how much she loves them, and trying her hardest to make everyone laugh. It was yet another way she reminded you of Harry; they both could instantly light up a room without even trying. “Just gotta ring the bell, right? Say your line?”

“You got it, mumma!” she smiled brightly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

Nearly the instant you put her down, she darted up the brick steps, taking a full pause at each step to be her funny self and jump, with both feet together, up to the next one. As she made her way towards the front door, you took your place leaning against the passenger door of Glenne’s car, nearly doubling over in laughter watching Bella look hysterical lifting up on her very tiptoes in order to reach the unusually high doorbell.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for Harry to open the front door. For a minute, you were sure that he had ignored Jeff’s instructions to stay home, but to your relief, the green door finally opened, revealing a very comfortable looking Harry. He was very obviously post shower, his hair visibly wet and sparkling when the porch lights lit up his form, clad in a pair of black basketball shorts and one of his grey Treat People With Kindness hoodies, and nothing else but a tall pair of Nike socks. It was like a scene from a movie, because when he didn’t immediately see Jeff in front of him, Harry looked over towards the driveway quickly like he was being pranked. But within a second, his attention was brought down to Bella, who tugged on the hem of his shorts, her sweet voice barely audible from the distance.

“Did you get a pizza?”

It was comical to watch him just stare at her like she had three heads. You couldn’t blame him, last he knew, both you and Bella were five thousand miles away, so it made sense that his brain was not comprehending the scene in front of him.

“He’s so confused.” Glenne giggled behind you, but her voice seemed like it was muted with how fully your focus was on your boyfriend.

“Hmm.”

Not even a second after your hum of agreement, and as if it was in slow motion, you watched as realization glossed over his features, his green eyes widening and mouth hanging open, and he sank to his knees. It didn’t take him even a second to pull Bella into his chest, winding his arms completely around her tiny frame and cradling her head in his surprisingly ring free hands.

Seeing the two of them together was like looking at two halves of the same soul reconnect. The moment they were in one another’s arms, it was like everything got brighter. Their smiles widened, chuckles more audible - even from such a far distance, and the warmth that typically lived in your chest recently, burned even warmer. You always knew Harry was meant to be a dad, just from how much he talked about it. You knew that he would do his very best to go above and beyond for his child, to make sure they felt loved and secure and treasured. But hearing about it and seeing it are completely different. Seeing nothing but total adoration on his face whenever he looked at your daughter made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Mumma!” Bella’s shouted, snapping you out of the daze you had slipped into while watching the moment before you. Both Harry and Bella were now looking at you from the doorway, her head resting on her father’s shoulder as he held her in one arm, their faces totally engulfed with smiles. “C’mere Mumma!”

“Yeah mumma.” Harry finally spoke up, his voice carrying down the pathway right to where you were standing.”C’mere.” Just seeing him standing there, smiling so brightly and holding his free arm out telling you he was waiting for a hug, was enough to make you break out in a smile and push off the car, dashing up the steps.

His chest was firm when you crashed into it, much firmer than when you hugged him goodbye in the airport a few weeks ago, and you felt as if you head placement on his chest was different - like he’d grown since you last saw him. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all but your mind was finally coming out of a month long fog that it slipped in without him, getting readjusted to being in his arms.

“Hi sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all along your hairline and temple like he physically couldn’t leave an inch of the side of your face untouched.  

“Hi baby.”

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pure wonder in his tone as he nudged the side of your face with his chin, making you lift your head from his chest and look at him. “I just talked to you this morning, said you were going to see your parents before everything got locked down again.”

“Yeah, well. I lied.” you smiled, leaning in to press kiss after kiss to his lips, trying your best to control the insane happiness rushing through your veins. Your response seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t ask another question wondering why you were in LA. Which was good for you because your plan wasn’t to explain everything on the front porch.

The three of you stayed frozen in that same position, Harry’s arm so tight around you that your face was completely buried in his hoodie, and the other arm holding Bella, forming a makeshift group hug, not bothering to worry about anyone seeing you or anything going on past the wooden archway. Because nothing else mattered. Not when you were with the two people who made your world spin.

“Daddy.” Bella’s timid voice finally broke you apart, both you and Harry leaning back a bit so that you could put your full attention on the little girl in his arms.

“Yes lovie?”

“I lied too.”

“What did you lie about?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder in order to look at him with a very concerned expression, like she felt deeply sorry for whatever she was about to say to him. “I don’t have a pizza. ‘M sorry. Mumma told me it was funny.”

“Oh did she now?” Harry mocked in offence, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm. But it wasn’t, ‘cause we don’t have any.”

“That’s right. But sometimes it’s okay to say something silly like that and not feel bad as long as it’s not something to hurt anyone, right? And daddy isn’t mad. How about you mumma?” Harry looked to you, trying not to smile at how adorable Bella was about the little fib. You shook your head.

“Not at all.”

“And what about you, B.B? Are you sad you told daddy there was pizza?”

She contemplated it for a bit, scrunching her nose up - again, just like her father - and looking around like the answer would be hanging in the air somewhere. “Yeah.” she said matter of factly. “But ‘cause I want pizza. And we don’t have any.”

Both you and Harry couldn’t help the laughs that fell from your lips, wasting no time before leaning forward to press a kiss to Bella’s forehead. “How about we get some then?” he asked against her skin, glancing at you when saying his next bit. “We’ll get your bags from the car and order one?”

“Oh god!” you yelled, turning around to face the car from which you’d just ran from. “Completely forgot Glenne was sitting in there! She’s probably been texting Jeff about how annoying we are.”

“Annoyingly adorable, yeah.”

“Think she’d fight you on that one. Nearly made her sick on the drive here with how excited I was to see you.” your laugh was muffled as Harry wrapped his arm back around your neck, dragging you in a headlock down the first step towards the car. Bella, knowing that it was time to bring in the bags, wiggled out of Harry’s grasp and sprinted down the steps ahead of you, right into the arms of a now out and about Glenne.

“Everything’s alright?” Harry’s voice was laced with concern now that your little one was out of ear shot. You both tried your hardest to never have any sort of talk about negative things around her, whether that be an argument or things going on in life, because she should never have to be put through the stress of that. Most of the time you just waited until she was asleep to talk about those things, but sometimes it meant going into different rooms and closing the doors.

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s alright, right? You didn’t come all the way out here because something’s wrong, did you?” quickly forgotten was your position in a headlock, and instead, Harry kept his arm around your neck, your body fitting perfectly tucked into his side. You walked step by step to meet your friend and daughter, who already started pulling suitcases out of the boot.

You took a peek up to him, noticing he was already glancing down at you, his eyes roaming all over your face to look for any sign of distress that he may have missed when he first saw you. But you had none to offer him. “Yeah baby, everything’s okay. Just needed to be with you.”

“Swear? You’d tell me if there was something?”

“Of course I would. Always.”

“Alright, professor. But if I find out you were hiding something, I’ll have to write a diss track.”

“Oh will you now?”

“Mhm. Thems the rules.”

Glenne spent a bit of time with the three of you before heading off, telling you to enjoy your time together and even throwing in a little joke about maybe even making a new baby since she missed how little Bella used to be. The comment made your ears warm and a weird feeling flutter through your stomach, but she gave you no time to respond before she shuffled out the door.

Since arriving at Harry’s, Bella practically refused to leave his arms, wanting to be as close to him as possible until she really realized that no one was going anywhere for quite a bit. And her thoughts must have quieted enough because not even twenty minutes after Glenne walked out the front door, Bella was running through the house towards one of the extra rooms she’d be sleeping in.

“Mumma! Come help me! We gotta show daddy!” her already soft voice was even soft as she yelled from the second floor, her request forcing you to get up from the sofa.

“What are we showing me?”

“She’s really proud of her Halloween costume this year. Spent weeks planning it out, you know?”

“I know. She wouldn’t budge anytime I asked her. Very secretive that one.”

“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from?” you sang while walking up the stairs, letting out a snort when you saw him lift a middle finger to you from his position still on the sofa, not even bothering to turn around to look at you as you continued towards your daughter.

“Alright baby, I’m here! Where do you want me?” you clapped, entering Bella’s room in a way that mimicked that of Harry Lambert, something that you knew she’d recognize right away from the amount of times she’s seen her parents being helped by the stylist.

“Over here, mumma. Gotta help me button!” she had already rid herself of the clothes she’d been wearing on the drive to Harry’s, the green long sleeve shirt and jeans laid in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed while she stood in just her knickers, searching through the small suitcase on her bed for all the pieces to her costume.

You took a seat on the floor next to where she was standing, watching her every move as she finally found everything she was looking for. Her tongue stuck out while she took the fabric between her fingers and gently held it in her hands - taking a moment to look at it in awe - before turning and holding it out to you, expectantly.

“Gotta be careful with it, mumma.”

“Oh I know. They’re really delicate, aren’t they?”

“Mhm. Reedy told me to be gentle with ‘em ‘cause they were made with extra love so they’re extra soft.”

“Oh that’s perfect! They’ll be on for quite a while so it’s good that it’s all comfortable.”

“Yep.”

You look notice of how long her hair had grown while zipping up the back of her shirt, the curls continuously falling against your fingers despite being held over her shoulder by Bella. You knew well enough even before she was born that she was going to have gorgeous hair, all it took was one look at the locks cascading from her father to tell you that, but it seemed to grow even more mesmerizing by the day. It fell loose past her shoulders every day, always managing to fall in front of her eyes while she was sprawled out on the floor playing. Even though you did enjoy how cute she looked pushing the crazy curls out of her face while her little tongue stuck out, you knew it was time for a trim soon.

“Are you wanting a haircut soon?” you asked while zipping her pants as well.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I like it long.”

“How about we see if we can get rid of some of these dry bits at least?”

Bella thought about it for a bit, picking at her nails while mulling over the idea of going back to the salon. “Yeah, I think that’s fine.”

“Alright, we’ll see about making an appointment when we get back home. Gives you some time to think it over.”

“Okay! Y’almost done mumma? ‘M excited.” she bounced in place, trying her best not to move so that you could finish getting her ready as fast as possible.

“All set!” you checked, reaching up to grab her hair out of her grasp and let it fall down her back. “Just put the jacket on and you’re all set to show daddy.”

“He’s gonna be so happy I know it!” she squealed, carefully picking up and putting on the final part to her costume and turning to look in the floor length mirror. Bella didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time to examine herself in the mirror. She smoothed the fabric covering her torso, lifted her feet in order to see the little pair of boots, and had one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen on her. “I look so good!”

“You do, lovie! Award winning I’d say.”

“Thank you for helping! Lets go!!” she yelled, darting towards the door and only stopping at the top of the stairs when you called for her, reminding her to be careful by the steps. The two of you quickly discussed your plan before departing ways, leaving Bella a bouncing mess just above you as you walked down to the light switch at the bottom of the steps.

Flicking all the lights off, you cleared your throat and waited for Harry, who had gotten up off the sofa upon hearing your descending footsteps and was now leaning against the back of the furniture, his bum resting just on top of the back, to give you his full attention. Although the lights were off, it was still early enough in the evening that light showed through the windows, allowing you to see his face and make sure Bella got down the stairs safely.

“You all know him as 2013’s Teen Choice Male Hottie -”

“Also 2016.” Harry cut in, trying and failing to stifle his chuckle

“Also 2016’s” you added, “and lead roles in Award Winning pictures such as This Is Us and iCarly.” at this point, it was obvious what was happening and you could tell Harry was fully on board with what was about to walk down the stairs. But he was also so excited. He no longer was leaning against the sofa, but now standing upright and his hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his mouth. “Introducing, the incredibly talented, musically gifted, style icon of the decade, Mr. Harry Edward Styles!”

The second you saw that Bella made it safely to the ground next to you, you flicked on the dim lights that just illuminated the staircase, showering your daughter in the closest thing you could get to a spotlight. She was standing in Harry’s signature position; bent forward slightly with one hand held in a peace sign while the other dangled loosely by her side and mouth open wide. Harris Reed had taken the time to make Bella a nearly exact replica of the white and black floral suit Harry had worn to the 2015 AMA’s - the suit that really started it all when it came to Styles’ fashion. Her curls were hanging past her shoulders just like Harry’s were at the time, and for good measure, she even lifted her hand to push some out of her face exactly like he used to.

She was a spitting image of Harry. And he loved it.

“Oh my god! You’re kidding! You look fantastic! Gonna put me out of a job! I won’t even need to go on stage anymore. This is amazing!” he screeched, rushing forwards and couching down in front of his daughter. He took in every last detail of the outfit; how the under shirt had buttons but did not open from the front (something Harris thought would be easier for Bella to get in and out of), how the floral detail was exactly the same as the one he had hanging in his closet back home (Reed had asked Alessandro for the fabric), and how even the shoes were a near replica.

“Mhm. I can sing next time. I’ll go up and sing to your friends and you can sit and watch and talk to Mitchy.” she nodded, taking a step back and belting out ‘You’re so Golden!’ “See? Like that!”

Harry beamed. “Absolutely! Give me a nice break every now and again, very thoughtful. We’ll just have to change your bedtime and it’s all set!”

“You like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she moved right in front of Harry, her hands grasping the hood of his hoodie and she looked directly into his eyes.

“I love it - and you - more than there are stars in the sky!” Harry responded without hesitation, grabbing her and lifting her into his arms, swinging Bella around quickly enough to let a few giggles. “Thank you very much, beautiful, it makes me very happy.”

“Can’t believe you wanted to be your smelly old dad.” he joked when she pushed against his chest to look at him, “See me everyday, why’d you wanna dress up like me too?

“‘Cause you dress the best, daddy!”

“Ohhhh hear that, love?” he turned to look directly at you, Bella now hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment on saying her dad dressed better than her mum. “I’m the best dressed.” Harry stuck his tongue out at you.

The reaction from Harry was everything Bella was expecting and more. So much so that she could no longer fight the exhaustion of the hectic day any longer. She barely made it five minutes in Harry’s arms before finally passing out. In the coming December, she’d be turning five and you were trying to start and wean her off of taking long naps, but after such an energetic day you welcomed the time for her to rest. She put up a fight getting out of Harry’s arms, the arm she had shoved into Harry’s hood in order to thread her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, tightened each time he tried to pull her away to lay her in bed. Like even in her unconscious state she wanted to know that seeing Harry again wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

It was heavenly to be back with Harry. Even though you had only been apart for such a short amount of time, there was so much to catch up on, and you would never get tired of hearing about everything going on in his life.

“And they used this stuff called Dermacol, and I swear, she swiped over it once and the anchor was gone. Bloody insane seeing it all bare. Hasn’t been that year in years.” Harry laughed, finishing his story of how his first few days on set had gone, the two of you laying in his bed while you waited for the pizza you ordered while he put Bella down for a nap.

“Don’t wash it off tomorrow. I want to see.” you tilted your head back so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, in order to look at him. He was sitting behind you, his back pressed against the headboard while you were nestled between his legs, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him again. “Forget what you look like without any ink.”

“Like them though, right?”

“Of course I do. Think they’re very hot.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, just let his fingers dance up and down your arms, clearly lost in thought. “I wish you could come to set. See everything and everyone.” he finally spoke.

“I know. I just don’t want to chance anything you know? We just traveled and I know we got tested, but I don’t want to unknowingly bring anything to anyone. Maybe soon, once we’ve been here for a bit. But for now, I’d rather just hear all your stories and FaceTime than anything happen to anyone.”

“What time is your call time tomorrow?” you added when he only hummed in response.

“6:45. Car will probably come by around 6 and I should be back near 2. Have a bit of a short day tomorrow.”

“No rush.”

“Yes rush. I wanna be with you both. Missed you loads, ya know? Only gone for a few weeks but I was going mad. Don’t think we should separate for a while.” his voice was soft as his neck strained forward in order to press loving kisses to the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder.

Since the moment you met Harry a decade ago, it was obvious he always knew what to say. He had a knack for spewing out the words you most needed to hear exactly when you needed to hear them. Whether it was comforting your stage fright, in an argument about tv or film characters, helping you pick out outfits, discussing your relationship, or talking about the future, you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. It made life with him so much easier, because you knew that he understood you. You knew that no matter what happened, he would support you and love you. And that’s all you needed.

So you decided finally, after the pit of anxiety in your stomach grew and grew all day, that it was finally time.

“Pretty good you feel that way. ‘Cause I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that you’re kind of stuck with me. At least for another fourteen years.”

“Hmm. Want more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, hands shaking and mind running a mile a minute, you asked; “How about another eighteen after that?”

But your nerves were all for nothing because the comment flew right over Harry’s head. Completely missed the point of why you used that specific amount of time and was more focused on giving your middle a tight squeeze - his arms moving from their place at your side to around your stomach.

“Mhm. Even longer than that.”

The words brought an image to mind, one you found yourself thinking about a lot the last couple weeks. One of you and Harry sitting in the living room in your home, talking to your grown children while your grandchildren ran around you happily, doing their best to animatedly explain ways of the world you just couldn’t comprehend. And the pure glee you felt being surrounded by such a beautiful family, one that you created with Harry. But you knew it wasn’t just some fantasy you would dream about. It was something that you would one day get to experience, and that excitement pushed you over the edge.

“You’re stuck with me forever, baby.” you hummed, sinking further into his hold. “But for five seconds, I need you to leave me so you can grab me a Tums.” the anxiety nerves reared their head yet again, knowing there was no missing the punchline this time.

Concern instantly flooded his voice, taking you by the shoulders and moving you away from his chest and to the right so he could look at your face. “Why? You feeling alright? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t help but simple sweetly at his concern, lifting a hand to rest it on his smoothly clean shaven cheek. “Yeah. You know how I get after flying. Do you mind just grabbing the Tums from my bag?” you asked again, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel the uptick in your breathing.

“You mean one of the nine hundred bags you brought?” Harry joked but still carefully slid out from behind you in order to get whatever you needed.

“Hey, we’re gonna be here a while. I need options.” Because of Covid, the UK was heading into yet another lockdown at the start of November, lasting until the first week of December so for now, so for now, you knew you and Bella would be spending at least a month with Harry in Los Angeles.

“Can take any of my clothes.” he grinned, turning around to face the bed again and bent down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Y’know I love when you wear my clothes.”

“Oi! Say that again but let me record it! If that’s the case, I never want to hear you complain about missing clothes ever again!”

“I said I like you wearing them, not keeping them hidden away for me to find three years later.” he laughed at the memory of his favorite blue hawaiian shirt going missing after getting back from Jamaica, only for it to be found in the back of your closet when moving a few months ago. His voice got quieter the farther he walked from the bed, the confines of the walk in closet filled with his clothes muffling the words towards the end of his sentence.

“Alright, but remember how excited you were to find it after so long? Like Christmas in the summer!”

“‘S’that what’s gonna start happening? You just stealing things I haven’t looked at in years and regifting them?”

“Lord knows you don’t need any more things laying around. Probably wouldn’t even notice anything being gone.” it was true. Over the years, Harry had gathered a very large collection of… things. Everything from clothes to lockets to key cards from hotels, and being in the career he is, he can afford to have it all. But even you had to say he had more than he knew what to do with most of the time, to which he always had some sort of rebuttal for.

But this time, it never came.

This time, you were met with silence from inside the closet, and you had no control over the way your hands began shaking. There were so many different kinds of silence; one of anger, of shock, nervousness, confusion, but any of those were a rarity when it came to Harry. He was someone who always had something to say, despite the emotions running through him. Silence was never really his thing, hell he even said so in a song, so the ideas of what could be running through his head started to eat you alive.

After waiting a few minutes and still receiving no sound of life from the smaller room, you began to get worried. Obviously nothing had happened to him while you were sitting feet away, but what was happening in there? Did he have a heart attack as soon as saw what you had laid out on top of your suitcase when he was ordering food? Did he fall and hit his head? Was he trying to find a good way to break up with you? No, he wouldn’t do that, you knew he wouldn’t do that. But before you could fully get off of the bed to check on him, he slowly sauntered out of the room, staring down at the piece of black fabric gripped tightly in his hands, and you halted in your spot - sitting up right on the side of his bed with your feet dangling off the side.

“Wha - what is this?” his whisper was so unbelievably low, you were surprised you could make out any of the words.

“What do you think it is?” you replied, your voice equally as loud so not to spook him while he was in such a clear state of shock.

“I - I don’t know.”

He still had taken his eyes off of the material in his hands, looking at it like it held every secret unknown to man somewhere within its seams.

“I think you do know.”

Finally, Harry lifted his head in order to look at you. And you felt your eyes water as soon as he did. The rims of his eyes and nose were a deep red, the kind of red you get when trying desperately to hold in sobs. His eyes were a brighter shade of green as more and more tears obstructed his vision, and now that you looked at him properly, his entire body seemed to be shaking.

“If this is a joke, it’s really fucking mean.” he choked out, putting all of his effort into holding back his cries. “Please don’t joke about this.”

As hard as he was trying not to let his tears flow, you were beyond the point of no return. Your cheeks were stained with tears, old dried ones leaving tracks for the new ones to flow freely down, and the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as loud and confidently as you would have liked.

“It’s not a joke, Harry.” you shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

“No?”

“No.”

Harry went back to not saying anything, glancing between you and the black in his hand, not knowing which held more important information. You could see the inner struggle he was having trying to comprehend what was happening, and you wanted to get up and yell it to him. But he needed to go through whatever emotions he needed to, at his own pace.

So you waited for him to do just that.

“So you - you’re pregnant?” he finally sighed, the question making the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren’t watching every inch of his face like a hawk. Holding back his tears was long gone as they now flowed down his cleanly shaven cheeks.

“I’m pregnant.” you smiled, the words coming out in one whoosh of air.

So fast that you didn’t understand how he did it, the black shirt - that at first glance was a replica of the logo for the film The Godfather, but when taking a double take, could be found to read The Twinfather instead - was laying in a pile on the floor in front of the closet door and Harry was laying on top of you. Now on your back with Harry hovering above you, both of his forearms on either side of your head, you could fully see the overwhelming joy swimming in his eyes. The last time you had seen this exact look was the day Bella was born. Like within his mind, he was watching the entire world unfold with endless possibilities and unfathomable love.

Harry didn’t let you say anything before he was pressing kisses to your lips, both of your tears making the experience feel a bit slippery as they blended together on your skin. But nothing could make the moment anything less than perfect. Harry’s warmth covered you like a blanket, completely consuming you within the personal bubble that had formed around you on the bed. His lips moved against your with determination, but also care and gratitude, the vaguely strawberry flavored lip balm he was wearing smeared against your own lips, letting the memory of this moment linger for hours to come.

“You’re really pregnant?” Harry asked, his excitement taking over once he pulled back from the kiss.

“Yeah baby,’m pregnant.”

“And is it? It’s - it’s twins? Are you sure? How do you know?” although you knew he would always be there with and for you during all of this, it was reassuring to see him be so ecstatic about the new addition to your family.

“When B and I went to get our Covid tests, the lady asked me if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and - and I couldn’t give her a confident no. So I called Dr. Kelter to see if I could get an appointment before we left and she took me the same day.” your smile grew as you watched him hold on to your every word, wanting to know every single detail you had to give him.

“And she told you it was twins?”

“Yeah. Said she could see them both right away since they can see twins so early. Said ‘m about eleven weeks.” the tears returned to your eyes when you thought about being pregnant again, how much your life was going to change and the excitement that was about to be brought into your lives.

Obviously Harry was feeling the same before he let out another sob, this time his upper half falling onto your chest and burying his face in your neck, his lower body seeming to unconsciously stay away from crushing your belly.

“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered, and you could feel the ever so gentle peck of his lips against your skin. “So fucking much.”

“I love you, Harry.” you whispered back.

“Who knows?” he asked, undoubtedly thinking back to when you were pregnant with Bella and everyone in your lives seemed to know before he did. Something you regretted, but was necessary at the time.

“No one. Just you and me. Want to do everything with you this time.” not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to be realistic for a moment in your clouded minds, you took a second to figure out how to say the concerns that were rushing through your mind at a mile a minute. “I know things are crazy right now and the world is scary and we’re both so busy, but we said if it happened, it happened.”

Harry was pushed up on his forearm in an instant, his other hand cupping your cheek in order to drag your attention to him. He was positively glowing. How only a second ago he was standing pale faced in the closet doorway was beyond you, because now, it was like the sun shined behind his irises.

“I have never been happier in my entire life. We’ll figure it all out together. Like we always do.”

[underachievers-please-try-harder]

Interview // Clairo

For The Guardian. Read online. 

Exuding all the effusive pride of a new parent, Claire Cottrill is showing me photos of Joanie, her rescue dog and the muse for her forthcoming album, Sling. “She’s actually really bossy,” the Massachusetts-raised artist better known as Clairo chuckles over Zoom, holding her phone close to the laptop screen so I can see the Instagram post more clearly. “But she’s so funny. We have such a special bond.”

According to a DNA test, the sandy-furred pup is mostly chow chow and great pyrenees, with a little bit of boxer and lab in the mix, which accounts for the fact she has tripled in size in the six-and-a-bit months since her adoption. “She was a little wolf baby; a peanut!” the 22-year-old singer-songwriter exclaims, mooning nostalgically over one particular image depicting the then seven-week-old puppy peeking out of some bushes.

Dog ownership might have become quite the ultimate lockdown cliche, but for Cottrill committing to a pet represented a rare opportunity to lay down some roots. Certainly, pre-pandemic she hadn’t had much chance to pursue a life of quiet domesticity; not since the autumn of 2018 at least, when the lo-fi bedroom pop of Pretty Girl went viral, just weeks after she started college in Syracuse.

Its winningly DIY video racked up more than 1.5m YouTube views pretty much overnight (it now stands at almost 75m), and Cottrill was heralded as a vital new voice, and part of a wave of creatively autonomous, emotionally articulate Gen Z artists, alongside the likes of Billie Eilish and Rex Orange County.

Cottrill’s rapid rise – not to mention her signing with the Fader label and Chance the Rapper’s management team – was not without controversy. A small but vocal subset on Reddit circulated the rumour that Cottrill was an “industry plant”, a conclusion they arrived at following their discovery that her father Geoff was previously chief marketing officer at Converse and co-founder of its affiliated recording studio Rubber Tracks. She has recently addressed the allegations directly, telling Rolling Stone, “I definitely am not blind to the fact that things have been easier for me.”

Largely though, Cottrill has sought to prove her detractors wrong through the quality of her compositions. First came Diary 001, an esoteric, six-track set mining skeletal hip-hop and the wipe-clean grooves of PC Music-inspired pop. That was followed in August 2019 by Immunity, the full-length debut she co-produced with ex-Vampire Weekend man Rostam Batmanglij. More revelatory than Diary 001, it detailed a suicide attempt (Alewife) and her struggles with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis (I Wouldn’t Ask You) with striking candour. Sonically, it paired tender, electronics-tinged introspection with swooning guitar-pop. Sofia, which now boasts 280m streams on Spotify, catapulted Cottrill into another league of fame entirely, leading to collaborations with Charli XCX, Mura Masa and Arlo Parks, plus arena tours in support of Khalid and Tame Impala.

Cottrill was busy with the latter when Covid hit the US. On hearing the news, she headed straight to Atlanta, Georgia, to see out lockdown with family, a period of isolation originally scheduled to last a fortnight but which went on for eight months.

Just how intense was it spending the best part of a year holed up with her parents? “It was awesome,” she insists, now back at the Brooklyn apartment she shares with fellow musicians and former college pals Claud and Josh Mehling. “My older sister came home as well. And I found it interesting that no matter how much you’ve progressed as an adult in your own life, the family roles revert back to exactly how it was as a kid.”

First and foremost, enforced confinement provided the opportunity for Cottrill to deepen her relationship with her mother.

“The conversations I had with my mom about motherhood, and the things she sacrificed for us, are really important to me,” she says. “Also, it’s like you don’t actually know who your mother is before she’s Mom, before she’s Wife, because there isn’t a huge documentation of who she was as an individual. And I realised that I might be in the period of my life now where I’m in my individual phase: before I am Mom, before I am Wife, or whatever I end up being. It was a bit scary to recognise that I could eventually have a family, and then this whole identity that I’ve had on my own for a long time can, in some ways, disappear.”

These existential ideas form the basis of Cottrill’s much-anticipated second album. Recorded in the autumn of 2020 at Allaire Studios – situated on a mountain top in upstate New York – Sling finds Jack Antonoff co-producing. Perhaps more significantly, the record also features backing vocals from Lorde – on Reaper as well as the lead single Blouse – an alliance that led to Cottrill returning the favour on the New Zealander’s latest, Solar Power.

“I met Lorde [when I was] on FaceTime with Jack,” she says of the link-up. “He was like: ‘Hey, I’m with a friend, can we say hi?’, and it was Lorde. And I freaked out, of course, but she’s the nicest person ever.

“We talked a lot about how cool it was in the Laurel Canyon era, where people would secretly do background vocals on each other’s music – like Joni Mitchell with Carole King – rather than as a way to benefit the business side of things. Back then it was just like: ‘I love your voice: will you lend your talent to my song?’ So that’s what I asked her, and I was just lucky enough that she wanted me on hers as well.”

The legacy of Laurel Canyon looms over Sling, which swaps the sparse electronic flourishes of Immunity for lush, acoustic folk, often embellished with swooning vocal harmonies, delicate strings and the warm swell of brass. Reference points for the record included Hejira-era Mitchell, the Carpenters and Harry Nilsson, alongside less obvious touchpoints, such as cult jazz musician Blossom Dearie. Most influential, perhaps, was Innocence & Despair by the Langley Schools Music Project, which features a choir of 1970s school kids covering hits of the day, and has since been hailed as a significant piece of outsider art.

“To me, that record merged my two worlds for Sling,” Cottrill explains. “I wanted that warm 70s feeling, but also I was thinking so much about kids, and especially the clumsy, sweet kid that Joanie embodies.”

There is a darker side to the record too, as Cottrill grapples with the reality of life navigating an industry that she memorably describes – on Bambi – as “a universe designed against my own beliefs”. On Blouse she describes her experiences being sexualised by record execs, while on Management she parodies the industry’s fascination with youth in lines like “She’s only 22”.

“[The attitude is] ‘There’s a lot more that we can squeeze out of her before she’s done.’ Because I think that what this industry does a lot is drain young women of everything until they’re not youthful any more.”

For Cottrill, as much as Sling is an album, it is a document of her endeavours to reassess what it is she wants from life. And adopting Joanie was only the first step: in two weeks’ time she plans to move into the house she recently purchased, in a tiny Massachusetts town in close proximity to both the Berkshire and Catskill mountains.

“It’s so awful that it took something like lockdown happening for me to reevaluate how I wanted to move forward. But it’s now about putting my mental health first, because I deserve to have nice things that I do care about. [Things] outside of music, like a house and a dog.”

As we say goodbye, I get another glimpse of Joanie, who has been snoozing throughout the interview. Sprawled on the floor at the end of Cottrill’s bed, blissfully unaware of her significance in our conversations, it’s a pretty fitting encapsulation of the pace of life that Cottrill has finally embraced.

[gayregis]

Hi! I've followed your blog for a while and love your individual takes. Can you do a succinct character study of Milva? I'm thinking of writing with her soon. (Bonus points if you could hypothesise how she'd intereact with other witchers of Kaer Morhen).

i have awakened

to me, milva represents the dichotomy and conflict between vulnerability and strength. she’s an inversion / subversion of the “action girl” trope - the girl in a group of guys who is just as badass as any of them... (more information on the trope here and here). the trope of the action girl is also intended to be sexy and conform to the expectations of the viewer, still feminine in appearance or having a “glow up” moment where she discovers femininity and is happy with it.

milva stops all of this bullshit in its tracks in manyw ays. primarily, she is not perfect and infalliably strong. instead of being capable in everything with no real depth or difficulty, she actually struggles immensely and has many self-percieved flaws and insecurities. just because she’s a badass in combat doesn’t mean she doesn’t have emotions. she berates herself, particularly in baptism of fire, multiple times for being illiterate / uneducated / “simple”, as well as a woman. throughout baptism of fire (the only book of the series where she actually got any development, let’s be honest) she is faced with her insecurities extensively. 

milva was raised in a very traditional sodden peasantry upbringing, from which she was taught lessons about how men and women are expected to and “should” act. she rebelled from this, seeking ways in which she could not conform to the expectations of womanhood - she prides herself on her strength, which is her skill at archery. when she is reduced to her gender, she becomes indignant and volatile as she should: we can see this possibly best demonstrated when she punched cloggy for his misogynistic demands to her, and gave him a concussion with one punch. she reacted in this way not only because his views were bigotedm but because she has spent her entire life saying, “i’m not what people expect of a woman, i’m not!”

thus goes that when she had to reveal her pregnancy to the group, she was ashamed of herself and very insecure. she had spent much effort rebelling from “traditional feminine roles”, but now was restricted to exactly that - pregancy, which is a role of a “traditional woman” in her cultural gender norms. as she says to geralt, she compares herself now to a chicken, instead of a red kite (a “milva” in elder speech, and “milvus milvus” in real life scientific terminology). she took the name red kite because it’s a bird of prey, it’s ferocious! it kills without looking back... and she felt then that she “got herself stuck” in a situation where she was expected to care and nurture - the complete opposite of what she has based her identity around. this is the dichotomy of maria, her birth name, and milva, her chosen name. when she reveals her pregnancy to geralt, she refers to herself resentfully as “a millstone, a typical bloody woman!” because she resents herself for being now tied to the social expectations of womanhood through her pregnancy.

additionally, her pregnancy showed that she can be swayed by social pressures, or was at once swayed - instead of laughing in the face of traditional femininity, she felt pressured to act as the she-elf in the scoia’tel squad did, she was socially pressured into having sex with a man. her pregnancy is a result of her exposing herself to a traditional feminine role (which she didn’t enjoy, but now still has the consequences of).

she likely felt too guilty to abort the pregnancy because childbearing and rearing is an expectation traditionally placed upon women.

she continued to travel with geralt after she found out that his quest was to save his daughter, because her logic was that if she would lose her own child because she did not want to carry the pregnancy to term, she could at least endavour to save geralt’s child - it would be “a life for a life,” rather than just having an abortion on her own and “losing a child” without ‘making it up somehow’ (again, conservative ideas, because that’s how she was raised and precisely what she is trying to outgrow in her character development).

(this excerpt is from another ask i answered about milva’s pregnancy)

what her development is, is accepting that she can simply exist as herself outside of the confines of social pressures. she has to ask herself what SHE wants, not what other people want or expect from her. instead of trying to rebel from what her traditional society wants from a woman, or trying to follow the needs of a man (geralt), she has to do what she wants for herself. for example, in tower of the swallow, she cuts her virgin’s plait because “she’s not a virgin, nor a widow.” this can be seen as her growing away from the expectations of a virgin, being open about the fact that she is no longer a virgin, but still conforming to the societal standards which surround them.

milva’s other subversions of the action girl trope come from being independently masculine (instead of “i learned it from my brother”) ... she learned archery from her father, but he died when she was young, so she didn’t receive mentorship far into her childhood. another way she subverts her trope is that the action girl usually is fanservice-y and is thus pretty much a “sexy lamp”: i.e., a sexual object (”if you can take out a female character and replace her with a sexy lamp “). she comes off as a real person with deep emotions, so that rules out being a lamp. additionally, she is sexy as in she is attractive, but she is not meant to be a romantic interest for geralt or any of the other male characters. she does not wear feminine clothing ever (refused to get into a dress in lady of the lake), she wears men’s clothing which is remarked upon several times. 

milva also is independent out of survival. when her father died and her mother remarried, her stepfather abused her, and her mother did not stand up for her. in self-defense, she beat her stepfather to death and ran away from home. she’s been mostly along since then, hunting alone, though she collaborates heavily with the dryads of brokilon and scoia’tel commandos. she has a difficult time trusting others to have her best at heart, because no one has ever looked out for her besides herself.

other (obvious, but important to state) character traits include:

directness. why say three dozen words, when three will do? she doesn’t beat around the bush and will say the truth without mincing words or making pleasantries.

short temper, and impulsiveness. her exhausted gaze became that of a wolf. don’t fuck with her. sometimes she says or does things she regrets immediately after.

maturity. she is not above apology and admitting her faults and weaknesses. unlike geralt in baptism of fire, she is willing to accept the company of comrades once they have gained her trust.

moments of clarity? sometimes, she can just say exactly what is going on, in a very sort of meta way. such as in baptism of fire when she says that to her it seems that everyone who comes into contact with ciri dies.

action, not words! as opposed to characters like regis, she doesn’t spend her time philosophizing or thinking too much about things. if something needs to be done, she gets it done immediately without overthinking the options. she’s good on her feet this way, but finds discussions about ‘what could be and why things are’ confusing.

in regards to how she would interact with the other wolf witchers:

i think she would try to fit in with them as much as possible, maybe feeling a need to get validation and respect from them as they’re capable fighters and men, she would want to be seen as their equal and afraid that they wouldn’t see her as such. but they are cool guys, so i think they would like and respect her. if geralt was around, i think she would be in even better spirits, and she’d have good humor probably (razzing geralt about being a handful, how’d you grow up with this guy, has he always been like this hahaha...). it also depends on who else is in the scene but that’s how i think she’d interact with them. she’s similar to geralt in many ways (strong but very insecure) so i think they’d appreciate her. she would probably see them like the brothers she never had.

[atendersun-archived]

Who are some of Muu's closest friends? And does he mind to be friends with kids, old people? Neither gender is not an issue for friendships?

For simplicity reasons, I'm breaking this down into different points:

Muu's main goal in life is to experience having friendships (and even romantic relationships as well) that are built on a strong foundation between both parties it includes. Although he may be the type of person that needs to be explained the same thing over, and over again until it reaches a point in which it is more frustrating than anything else, he is not so dense that he is oblivious to the fact that he isn't exactly ideal friendship material. He's not really great at making other people around him aware of the fact that he deeply cares about them, since he seems too interested in talking about himself than hearing about anyone else, his interests are not incredibly age appropriate or all that interesting, s, and he is far more sensitive than what is probably necessary for a twenty four year old man. With all of that being said, however, he is so self aware of the downfall of his differences that he wants more than anything to give everyone a chance at being his friend as a way of bettering his odds of finding people that will actually have the patience and willingness to keep him around.

With that being said, anyone and everyone is indiscriminately treated by him as someone he is eager to get to know and get to like him. Age, gender, sexuality, socioeconomic status, etc. None of it particularly matters to him just as long as he either receives kindness from them to some extent, or he THINKS he can earn said kindness by pleasing them in some way. This has understandably led to a lot of toxic friendships in which the other party has made it clear they want nothing to do with him, or they make it abundantly clear that they are only utilizing him for some sort of manipulative gain, and yet he knows there is still some chances that he might repeat those behaviors. Something he's learned from spending too much of his free time on Tiktok, though, is that the anxiousness that presents itself with attempting to receive something other than neglect or abuse from someone that will never give any proper praise is addicting to the brain. That it begins to feed off of the fear and uncertainty in those moments so frequently that it begins to crave it. In a way, he knows that is why he tends to find himself placing himself into purposefully dangerous situations, or back into the company of people he knows won't truly respect him as a person. It is because not only does he subconsciously feel that negative attention such as that might be the only thing he truly deserves to have instead of selfishly asking for unconditional love instead, but also because he thrives off of the abuse in some way. Lately though, however, he really has made nothing but really wonderful friendships with people that have made it very clear that they genuinely enjoy his company, and want what is best for him, so it has really been a challenge in rewiring his brain to expect that condition of living instead of slipping into a state of survival mode that can make or break how he is treated that day.

In the past, Muu would have definitely stated that he preferred male friendships on the basis of having someone he could turn to for protection and security as someone that wasn't particularly very strong physically and emotionally. As time shifted to places in which that security and protection was not offered to him, or was overstepped completely when placed into very dangerous circumstances involving himself and another man, Muu found himself gravitating more towards women. To him, they are safer company. They tend to respond to his emotional needs in a way that is more caring instead of belittling him, or responding aggressively. Also, even though a lot of his friendships with women typically cross a line into something more than friends with the addition of sexual intimacy, he has not felt an underlying sense of predatory behavior like he has with some of the men he claimed to be his friends in the past.

Trigger warning for the information ahead. Basically, the most condensed version of the answer to male vs female friends that I can offer to old & new muns alike is: Muu doesn't have the same experience of being able to state that he's been consistently emotionally, verbally, physically, and even sexually abused by female friends as he can with the men he admired to the point he blindly trusted them through some really difficult times, so, therefore, he just generally feels safer around women more than men. He's really trying to work through that though, and bring himself to a point in which he can really let go of all of that in favor of having the strong male friendships he always wished to have growing up.

I am basically just rattling off names at this point. I am sure I can locate more as well, but it is getting late here so who I am able to think of at this hour is under the cut:

Adrian and Gael of @romantxcxsm quickly come to mind because both have, right from the gate, been nothing but genuinely very kind to him. Muu assumed to really only consider Gael as a threat in the sense of having to fight him as an act of making himself the most dominant person the room from taking down the biggest guy he saw, but he never anticipated him and Adrian actually being the most emotionally intuitive people he's ever met. Muu could probably listen to Adrian just chatter on about being this seemingly extroverted person who takes people in on a whim without a second guess for hours. Same as he could just stare at Gael in knowing that even though they only seem like a tall, quiet to the point of almost being mysterious, they actually very sweet and sensitive underneath that exterior.

Hannah @kannojo. aka his wife at this point. This woman right here is his absolute ride or die. She's put up with his ass since they were just teenagers that got into petty fights that he always started. At any point, she could have easily beat his him to a pulp, but she didn't. Instead, she fell for him against all the odds. For her to hold out for him to stop talking about men that struggled to even provide him the bare minimum in a relationship is astonishing. Out of everyone he's essentially knew since he was sixteen up until now, she has been the person he could always go to no matter what. When day after day he faced an absurd amount of ridicule from people in his social circle that berated him and beat him over him being himself, and for wanting to be their friend regardless of it all, it was Hannah he could go to when he needed some to cry to. Her love has carried over from the time he was an annoying young man that was only obsessed with boys and himself, over to when he was so down and depressed that he believed he had no worth as a person based on how others were treating him, and it still exists today as a very queer man just trying to work through an asinine amount of trauma. that's his lady right here ♡ fucking hetereos

Neff @cosmicstardreamer This lady is too all knowing that it baffles him how quickly she can figure things out about him before he can even say it himself. Never would he have guessed for them to become so connected so quickly that he can basically safely tell her anything. Aside from Hannah, who was always just an arm's length away from him telling her everything as it was happening, Neff is still the only one of a few people that know the existence of the assaults he has endured, even if she may not know the specifics of them. While he can not explain it in words, there is at least a particular feeling that he experiences in her company that he feels very rarely in the company of other people. And, to him, that feeling is of completely safety. While she might be off the hook of having to hear him go on about his ex every five minutes, she is unfortunately not out of bounds of having to hear him chatter on about how Tiktok has made him want to learn how to read tarot cards.

Hisao @angstiism. He can't quite put his finger on it, but there is something about the anxiousness that has kept him drawn to him throughout the entirety of them knowing each other. There has been a shift in their relationship as friends, though, as in the past Muu actually looked to the younger male as if the roles were reversed. Almost as though he was seeking safety in them as he saw Hisao as someone very mature and more understanding of things than maybe he felt his other friends were. Nowadays, though, he just keeps trying to make sure Hisao knows that he is the one being taken care of now. Hisao was also someone present in his life when shit was DARK so he has that to navigate as an adult male trying to move beyond a lot of it. Trigger warning again: Though he might have no intention of actually verbally acknowledging it at where they stand as mature adults, having that one friend to show and discuss the children's books on the topic of sexual abuse during a time when he was so very concerned with / very much so craving validation on whether or not being molested in his late, late teens was his fault. It is a memory he holds very dear to himself within the confines of his own heart.

Pchan @nvrcmplt. This right here is his alien. Muu has always found him to be interesting on behalf of the fact that he was sure he had never met an alien before he met this one. Surprisingly, he has never really taken too much of an interest in finding out more about the exact species and abilities the extraterrestrial as up until maybe recently. He's kind of vaguely known them to have something to do with sex as he's been aware of the kinds of friendships and interactions the other has, but since he himself has very conflicting opinions on sex he really never opts to dive deep into learning more about how something unhuman experiences coitus. Now that their friendship has moved well beyond teenager / young man and his alien buddy to an adult man finally taking the time to actually get to know his friend in ways that don't feel as though they underlyingly childish, he feels almost like a whole new sensation when in the company of the alien. He would describe it as wonder mixed in with comfort. As in he is more apt to actually effectively comprehend experiences the alien has had that make up their personality as being something other than "that's my alien friend. he has lots of sex and is nice to me". Also, Muu has no apologizes for trying to beat up Sergio on Pchan's behalf, even if he didn't actually know the circumstances behind the man informing him that he'd hurt his friend to begin with. He'd gladly attempt to bite that bastard again if given the opportunity.

THERE'S SO MANY AAAAAAAAAAA

Yukio and Kuen of @silvxcs even if he thinks they are buttholes sometimes. Kuen with his inability to communicate effectively and always falling asleep while he is talking to him lol. And Yukio for somehow flipping the script on him and becoming more like a caretaker than he ever anticipated. Also because he specifically paid this man to tell Akatsuki to tell him that he's proud of him while possibly holding him for a moment. He had not paid the other male to rat him out and inform Akatsuki of his concerns about the older male being mad at him. Muu still thinks he is stinky for that.

There is Sully @tximidity and Alex @dis--parity. One he may have known for a long, long time to the point of recalling who they were prior to transitioning, while the other is a new face for him, but he both loves them very dearly. Mainly because both Sully and Alex are soft individuals that have been put through the wringer, and therefore he can talk to them about difficult conversations that he would be concerned going to anyone else about. Alex, for example, is someone he can go to and either talk or listen to gender related issues without any concerns. Sully, on the other hand, he finds interesting in the sense of they are this enigma of manhood like himself even if it is in different ways. Also, Sully is basically required to be his friend at this point because he won't let someone who witnessed him cry about skin cells get away so easily.

he love the muppet @goneborne, shinya is his snuggle buddy and he is not taking no for an answer @floriogrxphy, nich @bclasaeg is a meanie that has a crush on him but wont let him see his boy boobs the same way muu flashed his without any concern. god he really values so many of his friendships with people that i can't fit them all here even though i want to so bad

basically everyone that works at Komachi @welivetoserve is unfortunately trapped into being friends with him, but he has his blatant favorites. In the event he is ever in a life threatening situation where he is only given one phone call to make, he has already decided on Ayumu. That one is very nice, so he likes that one. We all know who the absolute favorite within any association to the club is because he never shuts the fuck up about him, but that sucks on account that I would rather mention how Muu will never not get a kick out of being a tiny bit mean to Mamoru as a means of establishing dominance over the man that could very well just ban him at any moment.

[sevensided]

Fathers in Stranger Things

This recent conversation about family acceptance in ST has made me think a lot about fathers in the show. I believe that a central theme in the story is acceptance. Acceptance of the supernatural, acceptance of differences, acceptance of one another. This dovetails into other key themes - forgiveness, friendship, and love - but in the context of parents and, specifically, Mike and Will, I think acceptance is an interesting way to think about how fathers or father figures play in their eventual relationship.

Every father on the show is an absent figure. This is for two reasons: to illustrate how much more hands-off raising children was in the 80s; and to highlight the role mothers play in the development of our characters. This also links into broader, structural themes, such as heterosexuality, patriarchy, and gender roles. On a simple level, the fathers are absent because it is the mothers who do the child rearing. This absence, however, also reveals the lack of paternal support in the lives of our core characters, and as a result, the supplementation of father figures. This dovetails into a theme that carries throughout the show - that of found families - but when it comes to Mike and Will’s development, together and separately, this relates importantly to how they will come to see themselves as young, probably gay, men.

Fathers

To start, I’ll briefly overview the main fathers of the series. We can largely group them as absent but harmless, or absent and harmful.

Ted Wheeler is an apathetic feature in Mike’s life. He is typically involved in scenes that underscore the domestic discord of the Wheeler household, and his role is primarily to show how unhappy Karen is in their marriage, and how his children do not connect with him. While there are some indications that he cares for his children, these are not carried through onscreen and, for the most part, Ted does not participate in raising Nancy or Mike. 

Lucas’ father, Mr Sinclair, is presented once in association with his wife, Mrs Sinclair. Their breakfast table scene is used to show the dynamic of the Sinclair household, and for Lucas to ask his parents abstract advice on how to win Max back after their argument. Mr Sinclair makes some period-typical comments that are intended to be funny, but they also indicate that Lucas was brought up in a fairly stereotypical atmosphere (to paraphrase: “What do you do if mom’s mad at you?” / “Yes, what do you do?” / “Your mother is never wrong”). You could go all galaxy brain and say this is a nod to Joyce Byers - who spends a lot of the show trying to prove she’s right - but as this is the sole scene that features Lucas’ parents, it is our only insight into their familial dynamic, and therefore our only frame of reference as to how Lucas is raised.

Dustin’s father is not mentioned in canon and it appears he was raised in a single-parent household. With no evidence to the contrary, we can go ahead and assume that Dustin’s only meaningful parental relationship is to his mother, with whom he has a strong bond.

Lonnie Byers is an undesirable and unreliable father who left Joyce and his sons before canon. When he does reappear in S01, he is proved yet again to be a grifter looking to take advantage of Will’s disappearance and assumed death. It it subtly indicated that Lonnie was abusive to Jonathan (“You’ve gotten stronger”) and, it’s possible, to Joyce or Will too. He is certainly proved to be homophobic (“Lonnie used to call him a qu**r, said he was a f*g” / “Is he?”). Lonnie may be entirely physically absent, yet his impact on Will resonates through the story, and in a figurative sense, he is very much present.

Steve’s father is, similarly to Ted, indicated to be a work-focused man who is rarely around the Harrington household. In S01 he goes on a work trip and is accompanied by his wife (“My mom doesn’t trust him” / “Probably a good thing”) which indicates he may have been unfaithful to Mrs Harrington in the past. He is a very literal absence in Steve’s life yet appears off-screen as a forceful presence (“My dad is a grade-A asshole”) that shapes Steve’s life, culminating in S03 with Steve’s job at the mall.

The biological father of Billy and Max’s step-father, Mr Hargrove, is an abusive, sexist, and dangerous man, whose impact on Billy is so severe that it renders him vulnerable to possession by the Mind Flayer and eventually results in Billy’s death. When El goes into Billy’s memories in the S03 finale, we see how Mr Hargrove used sports to bully and antagonize his son into performative masculinity, and how he often resorted to physical violence against Billy and his late mother. Our other insight into Mr Hargrove’s paternal presence is through Max, whose behaviour indicates that while she is, possibly, partly protected by her mother, she is not protected from Billy, who takes his anger with his father out on her. Max is cagey about the full impact of Mr Hargrove, but is it subtle and sufficient enough to show that he is among the most dangerous male characters in the series so far, and his onscreen absence, like Lonnie, resonates figuratively in the lives of our characters.

The final father figure to discuss is Dr Brenner. Brenner is cold and remote in that he is the PI of a government-funded underground project modeled on MK Ultra, and thus treats Eleven like the scientific subject she is. Brenner’s acts of care are only figured as manipulation tactics (such as talking quietly yet firmly to El, carrying her from the solitary confinement cell when she kills the guard, allowing her a toy lion) and cannot in good conscience be considered parental kindness. Brenner’s power over El is so potent that Kali draws on their shared memory of Brenner in S02 to capitalise on El’s powers. El perceives Brenner as a father (“Papa”). Like Lonnie and Mr Hargrove, Brenner’s absence lingers and retains a hold over El.

As we can see, you have absent but harmful figures like Dr Brenner, Lonnie, and Mr Hargrove, and absent but harmless figures like Ted, Dustin’s father, Mr Sinclair, and even, to an extent, Mr Harrington. This rough categorisation helps us see that the show’s fathers are painted into a conspicuous binary that reflects the expectations placed on our characters as they learn to become men. Are they jocks or nerds? Straight or gay? In the world of Reaganite Hawkins, society is bookended by the normal and acceptable, or the abnormal and unacceptable. In this context, fathers - and to a larger extent, masculinity - either exist passively or aggressively, and both impact our characters either overtly (Billy and Will) or subliminally (Mike and Lucas).

Father figures

The characters above stand in stark contrast to the father figures presented in the series. These include Hopper, Bob, Mr Clarke, and Steve. Quite by chance, they each represent different elements of masculinity and different figures of power in the lives of our main cast. 

Mr Clarke, for example, is representative of institutional power (a teacher) and has a strong influence over the Party in encouraging their curiosity and natural interest in science and the world around them. He is not typically masculine - he is a nerd - but he gently guides the Party through school and is shown to care for them.

Bob is representative of a found father figure in that he steps into the Byers’ life in no permanent sense (“This is not a normal family” / “But it could be”), but his respect of Joyce’s boundaries nevertheless sees him exercise a positive influence over Will (Jonathan, by Bob’s own admission, is harder to crack - understandable, given Jonathan’s past with Lonnie and, possibly, other men Joyce has occasionally had in her life). Bob’s absence - his death - is palpable, and leaves a lasting impression on Joyce, who is arguably in mourning for a good part of S03. In a similar vein, you can also make the argument that Jonathan is a father figure to Will (but that deserves its own post).

Steve represents more of a big brother role to the rest of the Party, but it is possible to see Steve as a father figure to Dustin, particularly over the course of S02. Steve drives Dustin to the dance, gives him advice on girls (a stereotypical “dad talk”), protects him, and supports him. In S03 their relationship has shifted into more of a friendship, but that does not take away from their initial dynamic that had a paternal undertone to it.

These are all examples of father figures. But the most important example of this is Hopper, and it is because he subverts this mold. Aside from the obvious link to El, in that he raises her from S02 and even becomes her “father” (Jane Hopper), it is not Hopper’s absence as a father that is important, but the absence of his daughter. Hopper is therefore an inverted male character. The absence (death) of his daughter stands in binary to the Party’s biological fathers, who are otherwise the absent ones. In contrast, Hopper is very present. Hopper is a father in the literal sense, but he is a father figure to Mike and Will: Mike, through his relationship with El and in the absence of Ted (Hopper gives Mike the “dad talk” in S03); and Will through Hopper’s relationship with Joyce. Hopper’s absent daughter is substituted most clearly by El. But in an abstract way, he also fits that role with Mike and Will too. In sum, Hopper’s absence as a biological father is redeemed when he becomes a father figure to other characters. He is therefore neither harmful or harmless, and can be seen as an outlier - but that is deliberate. It is deliberate because he and Joyce are the only parents/parental figures who know and understand the supernatural in Hawkins. I suspect that by the end of the series, Karen may be drawn into the fold too.

Mothers

I mentioned at the start that the absence of fathers highlights the role that mothers play in the series. This is best understood - and perhaps only understood - with direct reference to Karen Wheeler and Joyce Byers. Karen and Joyce have huge roles to play in how Mike and Will will come to understand themselves. They do this in spite of the male absence in Mike and Will’s lives, because a central theme of the ST story is love, especially maternal love.

Karen Wheeler is introduced as a typical housewife whose role it is to care for her children - Nancy, Mike, and Holly - and take care of the Wheelers’ home. She is in an unhappy marriage with Ted, and is unhappy enough to consider having an affair with Billy in S03. It is her sense of duty that prevents her from carrying this out. Karen is repeatedly shown to reach out to her children and frequently offers emotional support (most potently in S01-2, S03 being the sole exception [“It’s hard to keep track. You know what it’s like - summer!”]). Despite their rebuffs Karen does not give up trying to support her children. She is occasionally successful (Mike comes to her for comfort once per season, and she and Nancy are shown to have a tumultuous but altogether strong relationship, culminating in the S03 kitchen speech scene) yet, arguably, Mike and Nancy’s willfulness and growing up is a point of frustration and another source of unhappiness. While it will blow over - they are both teenagers - in the context of the show their rejection of her emotional support further reinforces her isolation. It is important to note that while Mike does crumble and come to her for comfort, this happens only in times of duress (Will’s disappearance, Will moving away). In other words, Mike does not rely on his mother for emotional support but she is still his mother, and when he does come to her it is during Mike’s emotional high points. These are always linked to Will. This directly ties Mike’s emotional development as it relates to Will to the maternal support given by his mother.

Joyce Byers is, as we all know, the resident PFLAG rep. Her relationship with Will is a central element of the story, and it is strengthened not despite Lonnie’s absence but in spite of it. It is moot to think of how Joyce and Will would have developed if Lonnie had stayed in canon, because Joyce is repeatedly shown to be driven by the love for her children. What is essential to understand about Joyce is that she is an atypical parent. She is a single working class mother whose brushes with normality (e.g. Bob) are taken away by the supernatural. As mentioned before, this further highlights the thematic divide between normality/abnormality and visible/invisible that are staples to the plot. In other words, Joyce has not found her “normal”, because Will has not yet found his normal. Until that happens, her happiness is at stake, partly because it is tied to the happiness of her children, but because Will’s overarching influence over the supernatural elements in the story is inextricably tied to his sense of belonging. Joyce, unlike Karen, has already won her child’s trust and support. Will’s story, therefore, is linked more closely to the absence of his father, whereas for Mike, it is not the absence of his father that is to be overcome, but his aversion to connecting with Karen.

Mike and Will

Taken together, I believe that when it comes to Mike and Will and their respective sexuality, it is not the fathers that will figure in their coming out, but their mothers. The show plays on the absence of fathers and places them in opposition to the presence of mothers. It is maternal love that guides Mike and Will, and it is maternal love that will protect them. This concept is only subverted by El and Hopper’s relationship, for it is El’s mother and Hopper’s daughter who is absent, therefore implying that they are contradictions, or inversions, of the show’s presentation of the familial.

Mike’s relationship with Ted is not a model. Aside from Ted’s general apathy towards his children - he demonstrably leaves the discipline and care of their children to Karen, as evidenced by every family scene in which Karen makes the decisions and Ted remains silent - he appears to have given up in connecting with Mike as his son. I mentioned before how Mr Hargrove used sports to coerce Billy into performative masculinity; the same can be said of Will, who disliked it when Lonnie took him to baseball games, and even destroys Castle Byers with a baseball bat. In contrast, Mike’s baseball bat (picked up in S01 by Nancy, who pretends to be practicing for the softball team) is in the garage, indicating it is not used, if it ever was. Arguably, Mike’s insistent and forceful personality might have bowled the passive Ted over, but Ted’s disconnect to his son is also evidenced in S01 when Ted jokes, “Our son, with a girl?” I have discussed here how this line was a blatant reference to Mike’s “nerd” status. As S03 has proved, the Duffers rely on 80s tropes to sublimate existing themes in their story. With nerds typically understood in 80s cultural discourse as sexually and romantically inexperienced social loners, Ted’s comment betrays three things: how he perceives his son; the failed expectations for his son; and how the audience is meant to understand Mike as a character. Ted does not feature in Mike’s upbringing, and I think this is deliberate for two reasons: to underscore how traditional Mike’s upbringing is; and to foreshadow that it will not be Ted’s opinion of Mike that matters in the end. It will be Karen’s.

Will’s relationship with Lonnie is, as presented onscreen in canon, non-existent. It only plays out off-screen and we have not yet seen Will and Lonnie interact in person. Regardless of where you stand with the theory that Lonnie’s abuse manifested in Will to become the Mind Flayer (I personally agree with it), Lonnie’s eventual presence in the show will be a critical moment and, likely, the climax of the entire series. As addressed above, Lonnie is indicated to be homophobic, if not abusive, to Will in the past. I won’t touch on the abuse as that is largely hearsay at the point of writing this post, however the homophobic language is canon and therefore has a bearing on how we are expected to interpret Will and his relationship to 1) other boys/men, and 2) his sexuality. Both Mike and Will have no meaningful relationship with their fathers. Yet, while Mike’s father is absent and harmless, Lonnie is absent and very much harmful. Thus, the lasting influence of his absence is made more potent by the power of Will’s memories/imagination. Having been subjected to direct homophobic bullying, Will’s sexual identity is tied very much to his relationships with older men, with Jonathan, Bob, and to an extent, Mr Clarke, as positive representations of masculinity, and Lonnie on the other end of the spectrum. To Will, Lonnie may be physically absent but he is figuratively present. As such, it will not be Lonnie’s reaction to Will’s sexuality that is important. It will be Will’s overcoming of Lonnie’s hold over him that will be the defining moment in his character arc. 

Parental absence is key to Mike and Will’s development together and individually. Both Mike and Will have to overcome their absent fathers in different ways. The key to this will be breaking free of the societal expectations placed on them, drawing strength in maternal love, and, crucially, finding love and acceptance with each other. The defining point is that despite surface-level indications to the contrary, it is not the fathers who are important: it is the mothers.

[nikkoliferous]

"Loki brought it all on himself"

Ok, we need to talk about this frequent claim that Loki deserves all the bad things that have ever happened to him.

Firstly, let's just get this out of the way. The amount of gaslight in the assertion that Loki “broke his family's trust” is unbelievable. As in, I literally cannot believe there are people who genuinely think this. They turn canon completely on its head. Loki's family betrayed his trust—by kidnapping him as an infant, lying to him for his entire life, raising him to despise the Jötnar while knowing that he was actually one of them, and chronically mistreating him—long before he took on any villainous behaviour. Loki’s story is very much one of what can happen when you push even a good person too damn far.

The worst thing Loki can be accused of having done prior to the complete mental collapse he suffers upon learning his life has been a lie, is letting a handful of Frost Giants into Asgard to crash Thor's coronation. He does this partly—in his own words, and he has no reason to lie about this to Laufey of all people—to protect the kingdom from Thor's foolishness and immaturity. And he is not alone in his belief that Thor is not ready to be ruler of Asgard. Odin himself, in a scene that did not make it into the film, expresses doubt about this, and Frigga, interestingly enough, reassures him by reminding him that Loki will be by Thor's side to counsel him and, for lack of better phrasing, keep him from doing too much damage.

So I think we can dismiss that action as a "betrayal" of his family's trust—and even if one does want to consider this a betrayal, it certainly isn't one on a scale that merits spending thousands of years enduring psychological torture (which is what solitary confinement is).

Another assertion frequently made is that Loki manipulates Thor into going to Jötunheim to confront Laufey. Loki most definitely manipulates Thor—but at no point does he suggest doing that. Thor comes up with that harebrained scheme all on his own. The most Loki does is attempt to manipulate the rift between Thor and Odin by playing into Thor's sense of righteous anger and his resentment at being shut down. Not only does Loki not suggest at any point that they should confront Laufey, but he actively takes steps to prevent them from reaching Jötunheim. He tries to talk Thor out of going; he orders a guard to inform Odin of their plans, expecting they'll be intercepted in time; he takes the initiative to speak for them to Heimdall, very likely because he knows Heimdall dislikes/distrusts him. And after all of that fails, he attempts to talk Thor down from starting a war once they're standing in Laufey's court. Interestingly enough, I never see anyone claim that Thor betrays his family's trust by reigniting a war with the Frost Giants, endangering the lives of his family, his friends, and his would-be subjects. It's almost like all the accusations of betrayal that people level at Loki aren't based on any sort of objectivity or moral high ground at all and are merely rationalizations by people working backwards from the conclusion that Loki is “evil”, simply because the narrative has framed him as a villain.

We also need to reckon with the fact that Loki did not "steal" the throne. Thor was stripped of his power and banished to Earth (which was not Loki's doing) when Odin fell into the Odinsleep (also not Loki’s doing). After Thor, Loki is next in line for the throne. That's literally just how the royal line of succession works. With both Odin and Thor incapacitated in one way or another, the responsibility of ruling falls legitimately to Loki. Frigga herself names him regent-king. Loki neither banishes Thor from Asgard nor forces Odin to go napnap, nor indeed does he even attempt to manipulate Frigga to pass the role of regent onto him—if anything, he’s shocked when she does so; therefore, it is completely unreasonable to accuse him of having "usurped" anything.

It’s equally unreasonable to claim that Loki “arranged for” Thor’s banishment, yet I see people say the same time and time again. Let us just recall that 1) Loki attempts to intervene when the fight between Thor and Odin begins to escalate

and 2) This is Loki’s face upon Odin’s inexplicably extreme punishment.

Look, I know Loki is known as being a liar, but if you think his shock here isn’t genuine, I have some oceanfront property in Arizona to sell you.

Now, I could stop right here because the claim is that Loki betrayed his family’s trust first and thus brought everything on himself. And as I’ve clearly demonstrated, any villainous actions Loki takes, be they in the first Thor film or thereafter, come after learning the truth (aka having his trust broken by his family). But because I know how much people love to move the goalpost when it comes to Loki, let’s just go on to address why none of his actions are truly villainous in the classic sense of the word.

Every wrongful action Loki takes in this film, outside of the aforementioned interference with Thor’s coronation (which we’ve already established may have been ill-conceived but certainly was not a “betrayal”) is a reaction to various betrayals against him or a result of paranoia fueled by a complete emotional collapse.

“Trying to kill” Heimdall is not a betrayal because Loki is defending himself from Heimdall who is attempting to commit regicide. (Also, if Loki had wanted Heimdall dead, he would be. The fact that he’s not, is a demonstration of Loki’s benevolence, not his ruthlessness).

Lying to Thor about Odin being dead is cruel, but it’s not borne of a desire to hurt Thor. Both the lie and, later, sending the Destroyer are borne of desperation, because as Tom himself has stated, Loki believed Thor would kill him if he made it back to Asgard and learned the truth. This is a moment that, if there were any justice in the MCU, ought to have haunted Thor for the rest of his life:

That’s one Jötun who definitely fears him.

This goes far beyond the claim that he betrayed his family, but I’ll address it anyway: tricking the Frost Giants by inviting them into the palace under false pretenses is not a betrayal because there is no established relationship of trust between Loki and the Jötnar. You can’t betray a trust that doesn’t exist.

And attempted genocide is definitely not a betrayal of his family’s trust because genocide is literally what this family does. Genocide is their entire legacy. Despite claims to the contrary, this was an established fact well before Ragnarok. (”So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?” “I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god, just like you.” “[What of the lives you took on Earth?] A mere handful compared to the number Odin has taken himself”). If anything, trying to destroy Jötunheim was an attempt to live up to the family name. It was misguided and wrong, but it was in no way out of line with what Loki and Thor were raised to do. Asgard is a warrior culture; killing their enemies is not perceived as immoral, but honourable. In fact, one of the reasons Loki’s actions were likely seen as dishonourable is because he used the power of the Bifröst rather than engaging the Jötnar in direct warfare. (Though it is possible, given the state of Svartalfheim, that this was also done in the past to wipe out the Dark Elves). But what was it that Odin said when he was yelling at Thor in the Observatory prior to banishing him?

Odin: “Do you realise what you’ve done? What you’ve started?”

Thor: “I was protecting my home!”

Odin: “You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom?”

At no point does Odin state that killing the Jötnar is wrong. But he does criticize Thor for putting his friends in danger by going to confront Laufey. (This is still not the catalyst for Thor’s banishment. That comes later, when Thor calls Odin “an old man and a fool”). Loki, however, conveniently knows a way to destroy the Jötnar without risking any Asgardian lives. And since a condemnation of killing their enemies is not a part of Odin’s diatribe, he has no reason to believe that Odin disapproved of that part of Thor’s misbehaviour. So now he can say, “Look, Father. I did what Thor couldn’t!”

Thor: “Why have you done this?”

Loki: “To prove to Father that I am a worthy son. When he awakens, I will have saved his life. I will have destroyed that race of monsters and I will be true heir to the throne.”

Only, as we all know, it's in vain.

There’s only one moment in the entirety of the first Thor film that I would class as a genuine betrayal of his family’s trust, and that is that he puts both Frigga and Odin in harm’s way when he invites Laufey into Asgard under the false pretense of allowing him to slay Odin in his sleep. This was very short-sighted of him; what if he’d been too late and his scheme had gotten Frigga killed before he’d arrived to intervene? Betraying his family was not his intent here, but in his highly emotional state of mind, he did endanger them needlessly— much like Thor needlessly endangered his friends and his brother by going to Jötunheim and starting this whole mess to begin with. (However, I never see fans criticise Thor for this. And they should. My point here is not that Loki should not be criticised for endangering his family, but that there needs to be consistency. If you’re going to call out Loki for endangering his loved ones, you need to call out Thor as well. If you’re going to call out Loki for mass slaughter, you need to call out Thor as well).

In short, I think my favourite thing about the vast majority of Loki antis is their blatant disdain and lack of empathy for the mentally ill and the abused. And by ‘favourite thing’, I of course mean that it disgusts me.

(Tagging @magicmastered​ and @just-another-human-2019​ because you both expressed interest in the post 😘)

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Prologue || C.H

A//N: I decided to start posting some of my stuff here and see how things go. This is a project I started back in 2017, and I unfortunately lost inspiration with, but then rekindled earlier this year and rewrote the entire thing. 

I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I am enjoying working on it. It isn’t the best but I’m using it as a learning curve. So, please forgive my terrible grammar! 

Feedback is greatly appreciated btw! Just be kind plz! 

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Eloise – 6 Years Old

Her little feet stamped excitedly against the wooden floors as she jumped out of bed. She knew exactly what day it was; the day she had been waiting all week for. She could barely hold in her excitement the night before, her giggles booming throughout the walls of the house as her mother tried to calm her down enough so she would go to sleep.

But now the day was finally here, and Eloise couldn’t wait.

She threw open her white bedroom door as fast as her little arms could before she bounded across the hallway, the soft cream carpet plush against her little feet, slamming her body into the door that sat opposite the staircase. She giggled before shushing herself, holding her index finger up to her own lips as she crept into the bedroom where the adults slept. She had them exactly where she wanted them.

She peeped her head up, standing on her tip toes so she could just about see over the top of the wooden footboard at the bottom of bed to see the two greats lumps from where her parents lay. She could barely hold in her childish giggles and squeals as she hauled her body onto the bed, using a few of her mum’s books as a little stepping stool to assist her. Once she could feel her body securely on the soft fabric of the duvet, she knew was ready for the next part of her plan to begin.

She crept up in between the sleeping bodies, a devilish grin spread across her face as she saw her mother’s hair spread out on the pillow and down her back slightly, meanwhile making out the dark hair of her father’s arm that rested against his side while he slept soundly. The sound of his snores were like a dragon, she swore she could see the fiery steam leaving his nose as he breathed. It was so loud!

Eloise slowly and carefully raised herself to her feet, wobbling as she tried to find her balance on the soft mattress, preparing herself for the part that came next. This is what she was most excited for. She bent her knees as she prepared her body, fighting the giggles that threatened to spill, taking a deep dramatic breath as she leaped into the air, slamming her full body weight down onto the bed as she let out an almighty yell, “It’s my birthday!”

Thomas and Natalia certainly hadn’t expected the loud, obnoxious wake up call, both their bodies shooting upright in panic before their eyes were met with their daughter’s dark cocoa-coloured ones staring up at them with a cheesy grin stretched out on her face, one that made her cheeks puff out a little, endless streams of childish squeals and giggles erupting from her. You could see the tiredness in her father’s eyes, only having got in from ‘work’ a mere few hours ago. But who was Eloise to know that? She was six and it was her birthday! And she was very impatient.

“Get up get up get up get up get- “

“We’re getting up, El.” Her mother laughed softly, rubbing her eyes with the corners of her palms before reaching forward and grasping her daughter’s waist, lifting her up and sitting her on her duvet covered lap, so she could wrap her arms around the small human and kiss the top of her head.

“But you’re not doing it fast enough!” She huffed, jutting out her bottom lip as she looked up at her mother, fighting against her mother’s arms as she attempted to wriggle with all her might to escape so she could run downstairs.

“Just be patient, bug,” Her mother whispered, swaying gently with her daughter in her arms, pressing her lips against her child’s dark curls, “How about we go and get you dressed, hm? And then we’ll make some breakfast and then, if you eat it all, we’ll think about letting you open your presents? How does that sound, bub?”

“Why can’t I just open my presents now, mama?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at her mother as she crossed her arms dramatically across her chest. Well, attempted to cross them.

Man, she was her father’s daughter. Natalia noted the searing stare Eloise gave her, watching as her little arms resting on top of one another in an attempt to cross them. Thomas, Eloise’s dad, used to try and pull that menacing look when they first started dating, pretending to be intense when in reality he could hardly hold an argument when it came to his wife.

At least he couldn’t at the beginning…

Her mother could have sworn there was a cloud of dust from where she had placed Eloise on the ground, her little body shooting out of the room and sprinting into her own bedroom to dress herself. Eloise did nothing but bring a smile to Natalia’s face every day, with every sentence she spoke, with every look she gave, and with every giggle that escaped her little face, Natalia couldn’t hold back the sincere smile as her heart burst with love for her little girl.

The sound of a small voice mumbling to itself could be heard as Natalia made her way across the upstairs landing, peering into her daughter’s room as she watched Eloise argue with herself over which colour top she was going to wear in order to celebrate her birthday. It was the only day of the year Natalia knew that her daughter would actually look at what she had chosen to wear, letting a smile – one of relief – grace her face as she realised that she wouldn’t have to march her back upstairs while explaining that Eloise could not wear the top half of her cat costume from Halloween with a pair of multi-coloured rainbow leggings. The kid definitely had some interesting fashion choices. Natalia could only hope she would grow out of them.

Her birthday was always a day her parents treasured, knowing it was the one guaranteed day of the entire year where there would be no interruptions, no disappearances made by her dad; a day where it was strictly about Eloise, where their little family could be together to celebrate another year of the best gift they had ever received.

*****

The sound of Eloise’s small yet loud feet could be heard as she jumped down each individual step of the staircase, making her way into the bottom level of the house, the smell of birthday cake and chocolate pancakes leading her in the direction of the kitchen. She practically sprinted into the kitchen, launching her small body onto one of the dining chairs as she climbed up and peered her head over the table to where her eyes grew to be twice the size of her at the sight that was laid out for her to see.

“Is that my- “

“It’s your birthday cake, yes,” Natalia chuckled as she slid the final chocolate pancake from the pan onto the plate that sat on the kitchen island, “But you know the rules, baby; no cake until after presents and until your Uncle Bear gets here.”

“Uncle Bear is coming?!” Eloise’s gasp filled the kitchen, a loud excited squeal erupting and filling the confined walls at the thought of her uncle coming to celebrate with them.

What she didn’t know was there were a few others coming along as well as her uncle Bear. Thomas had insisted on inviting some of the boys over for Eloise’s birthday, telling them to bring their own children and family so they could meet and celebrate with his daughter. It was a disagreement that went on behind the closed door of Thomas and Natalia’s bedroom late at night, the two of them having different opinions of how to spend Eloise’s birthday.

Natalia knew what kind of ‘boys’ Thomas hung around with; the ones he led his lifestyle with. Unfortunately for her, she technically was classed as leading the said lifestyle alongside her husband, silently agreeing to joining him on that journey when she entered the relationship, it only solidifying the non-verbal agreement in concrete after they got married. Although he had promised to keep her separate and not involve her in any of the matters that involved interacting with his ‘friends’.

Well, that went straight out of the window the minute it was discovered that Eloise was on her way. Every single one of the Gypsy Kings taking on an older brother role when it came to the unborn child, swearing to look out for her and her mother, much to the disgust of Natalia.

She could look out for herself; she was well off even though she hated to admit it. Her parents were successful although she didn’t have much to do with them since Thomas came into her life, their approval of him very much being non-existent. She had the money to take care of herself, Thomas, and the baby. She didn’t need numerous rambunctious men constantly surrounding her family any more than they already did. It wasn’t a secret that she didn’t like the life her husband led, but she loved him. She loved Thomas more than life itself, she didn’t think there was something she could love more, but then Eloise came into the world and overtook Thomas with ease. But Natalia was certain, swearing on her own life, that there was nothing she loved more than her family, and she wouldn’t let anyone – not even the group her husband was tied into – potentially be the cause of any harm or risk that may come to them.

It had taken weeks for Thomas to convince her to allow him to invite the others, insisting that Eloise would need to know them sooner or later. He insistently pushed for a relationship with his ‘brothers’ for his daughter, wanting her to have a bigger family than what he had growing up, swearing that these boys would be the brothers she didn’t have, her protectors for when her parents were no longer walking the earth.

That stung like a needle being inserted into Natalia’s skin, the back of her neck heating up at the thought of leaving her daughter with no one but those violent scoundrels whom her husband called ‘friends’. But she let it slide, knowing that he was only trying to come from a good place, a place of love with only Eloise’s best interest at heart.

“Happy Birthday to you,” A deep voice sang from the distance, “Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday my dearest Eloise,” The voice became louder as the body neared towards the kitchen, “Happy birthday to you.”

Thomas revealed himself from the small hallway connecting the kitchen to the main walkway of the house, a proud smile radiating from his face as he walked over to the table and leaned down to kiss his daughter on the head. He glanced over at his wife who dished two pancakes onto a plate before placing it down in front of the empty seat beside their daughter, silently insinuating for him to sit and eat with them.

Eloise giggled happily, her small legs swinging beneath the table as she munched away at her birthday breakfast. Chocolate pancakes were her favourite, especially when her mum made them. There was nothing better. Natalia restricted them to be a treat, knowing that if Eloise could then she would have them every morning, and Natalia didn’t think she could physically or mentally cope with the intense sugar high that Eloise caught from the consumption of the sweet treats every day.

“El, why don’t you take your pancakes and go and watch some cartoons in the living room?” Thomas spoke up, smiling down at his little girl, watching as her eyes grew as he finished his sentence.

She gasped loudly, slamming the base of her fork down onto the table as she grabbed the rim of the light wood, leaning forward as she pressed her brightly coloured t-shirt covered chest against the edge, wide eyes darting straight over to her mother who couldn’t hold back a laugh at her daughter’s sudden outburst of excitement.

“Can I?” Eloise asked, her voice already hinting at a begging tone, “Please mama? Can I go watch cartoons? Please? Pretty please? Can I? Can I? Can I? Mama- “

“Yes!” Natalia couldn’t hold back her deep laugh as she watched Eloise’s face light up before she scrambled down off of the dining room chair before being handed her plate by her dad and dashing through the hallway into the living room.

They didn’t need to worry about putting the TV on for her, aware she knew exactly how to find her cartoons. That was another treat that didn’t happen very often; TV was banned during mealtimes. That was Natalia’s doing, wanting to cherish the tradition of a family dinner with no interruptions, using it as the single opportunity they would have where they were together throughout the day, that also depending on the fact of if Thomas was even home for dinner.

Once they were sure that Eloise was out of ear shot, their smiles collapsed as they looked towards each other. The atmosphere was so tense in the room, you could have cut it with a knife. And they both only had themselves to blame. Thomas was the one who suggested that they fill the house with people so Eloise could experience a real birthday party, unfortunately the only people they could fill the house with were those who Natalia despised. Meanwhile Natalia was the one who gave into his request, she was worn down with the numerous requests and attempts at reasoning that she eventually gave up, agreeing to hosting the party, but strictly for the sake of Eloise.

“I want to know exactly who is coming into this house,” She sighed as she stared at Thomas, “I need to know exactly which of the miscreants I am allowing into my house to be around my daughter.”

Her tone was cold, harsh. Thomas didn’t appreciate the way she addressed his friends but deep down he understood why she felt that way. It wasn’t her choice to have this at her door, and that alone he gladly accepted the consequences for. Thomas knew the only reason she even remotely agreed to inviting the group of boys was because they would be bringing their children and families, allowing for Eloise to have to opportunity to make friends her own age, for her to make bonds and relationships that would hopefully mould her social skills to be ready for when she went to school, something that Natalia had in fact held back on this year, not prepared to allow her daughter into the education system just yet, suffering a mental debate over if home schooling was a better option.

Before Natalia could even try and pry an answer from Thomas regarding who would be attending the party, the high-pitched ring of the doorbell interrupted the tension and echoed throughout the house.

“That’ll be Owen,” Thomas sighed, looking up at Natalia as she glared at him, silently praying that she didn’t kill him right there and then, “He’s bringing his son Scott who’s Eloise’s age. He’s a great kid; very bright, very funny, him and El will get on really well.”

Natalia just allowed a small nod to be the only acknowledgement she made towards Thomas’s words, standing up from her seat as she picked up the plates around the table before ridding the cold remnants of the pancakes into the bin and slipping the dishes into the dishwasher.

Thomas swallowed the small lump in his throat, ignoring the slight sweat on his brow as he thought about the worst-case scenario. What if all hell broke loose at his daughter’s birthday party? Surely not, I mean Natalia had a temper on her, but she would never lose it and risk ruining her daughter’s birthday. Would she?

“Are you going to get the door, or shall I?” She asked, her eyes focusing on the dishwasher as she loaded it up and prepared it to go through a cycle. Her eyes never broke contact with the silver machine, taking a deep breath as she prepared herself for the next few hours of insufferable conversation with a group of people who she knew she couldn’t stand. But when she thought of Eloise making friends, her heart soared ever so slightly. She would do it for her.

Yeah, she would it for Eloise. She would do anything for Eloise.

Eloise – 20 Years Old

Her brown eyes drifted the silver rings she wore on her hands, studying each one individually. Each singular piece of metal held a story; one that she never shared, one that hid a scar, one that was a gift, and two that were a reminder. They were a staple in her attire, one that never faltered with whatever she wore. She hadn’t intended for them to become such a big part of her but – well, not all them anyway – she couldn’t help but feel a slight discomfort when she didn’t feel the cold metal against her delicate fingers.

“We need to pick up some more jobs around the city,” A voice grumbled, a frustrated grunt escaping the lips of the man who paced back and forth opposite where she sat. Eloise’s eyes glanced up, making a note of Jay’s agitated state, the crease in his brow prominent as he stared down at the table that they were all sat around.

The boys were never the brightest when it came to money making schemes, which is why Eloise sat in on these ‘meetings’ that Jay conducted. Although she didn’t pay much attention, knowing that these meetings only resulted in numerous settlements of violent methods of making money; Jay’s favourite way to make money.

Her eyes fell to her hand that rested on the arm of the couch she perched herself on, her gaze following as her small fingers traced a pattern along the brown fabric. She held back on the sigh that was dying to come out, knowing that it wouldn’t exactly give the best impression to the men scattered around the room. She couldn’t help as her eyes fell to the scratches that littered the couch, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as she recalled the few times her and Scott would sneak into the Gypsy King’s hideout as kids and try to carve hopeless doodles and names into the furniture and walls of the hideout. It was a memory of much happier times of her life, times that she would more than gladly go back to if she were given even half the chance.

“El, are you listening?”

The sound of Jay’s aggressive tone brought her out of her little daydream, her eyes snapping from the scratch-covered couch to the irritated individual stood in front of her. Her eyes met his emerald ones, mentally noting his menacing posture, as she cocked her head to the side with a smug look on her face before responding, “Unfortunately.”

Jay’s scowl only hardened, his brow creasing more as he tilted his head down and kept his eyes strictly on Eloise. He took an intimidating step towards her, his eyes searching for a sign of fear from her, a twitch, a flinch, a swallow. He looked for anything.

But Eloise didn’t give it to him. She never feared Jay like some of the others did, knowing full well that she could handle herself but more importantly that they needed her. She was the brains behind a lot of the schemes they conducted, she dissected the horribly put together plans of the others and amended them so they would actually work, allowing for the nominated members to do their job with the least amount of backlash possible. Although, there was never just a little bit of backlash, not when it came to this lot.

“I’d appreciate if you kept your focus on the task at hand,” His arms crossed along his chest, stance remaining as solid as before, “You can get caught up in your little daydreams elsewhere.”

Eloise had to hold back on the urge to roll her eyes, leaning back against the couch as her fingers found the bottom hem of her jacket, fiddling with the cold smooth material as a way of stopping herself from saying anything in retaliation.

She was a hot head like her mother, she knew that. She was the perfect combination of both her parents; her hair the same shade as her dad’s meanwhile her eyes were the same dark chocolate colour her mother once had. She had the temperament of her mother but the brains of her dad. Many of the others in the gang had made note of similarities when she made her way up the ranks with the group, knowing she was bright, but ‘especially for a girl’ many of them would murmur. She let it roll of their tongues, never reacting to the comments because she knew better than anyone that she could take them in a fight if necessary.

“Let her dream about lover boy,” A voice piped up from the corner, a deep chuckle erupting from the large chest of the member who spoke, “Maybe she can finally be useful other than believing she’s a valuable dictator.”

Eloise poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, holding back the scoff as her eyes lifted from the coffee table in front of her and followed the direction of the voice. She leaned forward on the couch, arms resting on her knees as she stared at the clean-shaven face of the boy who spoke. He was feeling brave for someone so young, so new.

“You wanna say that again?” Her voice taunted, her eyebrows lifting slightly as if to spark a challenge between them. She took a deep breath, her dark eyes meeting his hazel ones before she pushed herself to a standing position as he shot up out of his seat.

She couldn’t help but smirk at how rushed he was, reaching behind his back before pulling out his gun, holding it by his side as if to use it as an intimidation method towards Eloise.

“That’s cute,” She spoke sarcastically, a silent laugh escaping her as she looked down at her boots before meeting his eyes once more, “Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course, I do,” He answered quickly, the muscle in his jaw working overtime as he waited for her to make a move.

Clearly this guy didn’t know Eloise as well as he thought he did.

“Well, come on then,” She taunted, her arms lazily crossing her chest as slouched slightly in her standing position, “Show me what you’re made of, big man.”

Eloise noted the shaky gulp as he swallowed, seeing the slight sheen of sweat appear on his brow as he raised his gun, aiming directly for Eloise.

“Luis, come on, put the gun down.” Another voice spoke, a poor attempt at trying to calm the young boy who currently stood with his gun aimed at the brunette who stood opposite him.

She didn’t seem to flinch as she took a few steps forward, her eyes never losing contact with Luis, the cocky smirk still spread across her face. Nothing scared that girl anymore, not since everything was taken from her. She had been told a few times that she had a death wish. Maybe they were right, maybe she was treating life as a throwaway.

Her feet paused when her chest pressed against the end of the gun that was held out, her expression still not faltering as she watched as Luis seemed to get more nervous by the second. It didn’t surprise her that although someone had shot a warning – a poor warning at that – towards Luis in order to get him to lower his gun, no one had physically stepped in extinguish the situation. She was sure many of them were secretly wanting to see how this would play out.

“If you’re gonna do it,” She spoke with a low voice, “At least make it interesting for me.” Her knees bent slightly as she lowered herself, staring the gun directly down the barrel as she pressed her forehead against the weapon.

A disappointed sigh could be heard from behind her. In fact, two could be heard. She knew exactly where they came from and why they were the only noises in her ears in that moment. She kept her eyes on the black weapon held in the shaking hand, “So are you going to pull the trigger, or are you too chicken?”

The sound of the trigger being pulled, and a loud click echoed throughout the hideout, the sound resonating within the walls before silence fell throughout the room.

Luis looked on in fear as Eloise’s eyes opened and stared at him with a knowing smirk still spread across her lips. He could’ve sworn he nearly killed her; he could have sworn he nearly committed a murder of a member of his own association. His eyes widened with pure fear, looking at the gun with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty, as if he didn’t understand why it didn’t go off like he expected.

“Next time,” Her voice disrupted the silence as she stood straight on her feet again, looking at the boy she had previously taunted, “Make sure your safety’s off. You could get yourself killed if that happened in the wrong situation.”

She turned around on her heels and walked back to the couch, picking up her phone that she noted had slipped from her pockets when she stood up to challenge the opposing member. Her facial expression fell back to her usual one, eliciting a monotone look that many of the boys had grown used to.

“How could you be so sure that he wouldn’t take the safety off before pulling the trigger?” Jay’s voice tore Eloise’s eyes from her phone, “What if you had underestimated him?”

“If he took it off before he pulled the trigger, I would have heard it so I would have known to move, but he never flinched - not even slightly - to look at his gun and check if the safety was on or not. I knew he wouldn’t check, so I knew I was alright,” She shrugged, her phone finding its home in her back pocket once again, “An amateur doesn’t check his gun before he pulls it, a rookie lives with his safety off,” She paused as her eyes met Luis’s across the room once again, “But a moron challenges someone who he knows can outsmart him.”

She kept her eyes met with the young boy’s, knowing he was still learning the ways of the gang and wanted to test his limits, as well as everyone else’s.

The situation was brushed over by the sound of Jay continuing to go on about the money situation within the gang, instructing for them to come up with ways to make a profit for the gang while also keeping up with the business side of things. Luckily for them, money was an easy thing to be made if they knew how to do it right. And thankfully, Eloise and Scott knew the right methods.

Her eyes fell to the boy sat next to her, a gentle smile spreading across her lips as she met his golden irises, the shine in them being something she found comfort in. She didn’t know what she did to deserve him in her life, he was too good for her, he was too good to be wrapped up in this lifestyle they led.

“You alright?” His voice barely above a whisper as he nudged her shoulder lightly, “You need a minute?”

Scott had been her best friend since she could remember. She recalled when she met him at her sixth birthday party, his sandy coloured hair bouncing as he ran into the house when he heard the theme tune of Arthur begin to play from the TV in the living room. She always thought he was a weird kid, but so was she. Maybe that’s why they got on so well. Ever since that day they had been inseparable, spending every minute they could together and quickly becoming best friends. He became her family very quickly and his family became her own when it came to that day.

“I’m fine,” She responded, rolling her lips into her mouth as she leaned forward on the couch once more, counting down the minutes until she could leave the hideout and go home again, “I promise.”

A classic response she gave too often. Scott should’ve expected it.

Eloise didn’t register the remainder of the speech that Jay gave to them all, ignoring the requests he made and the outraged yells he threw at the scattered members around the room for ‘failing’ him. The man was always angry, power-hungry, and ignorant. But he was the leader, so no one could tell him what he could and couldn’t do, what he could and couldn’t say, and last but not least; how to run the gang. His views weren’t shared by all members, but the majority of them revelled in his anger towards the city of New York, in his desire to control the city that they called home. Eloise, however, didn’t share that same passion to the same extent. She did love New York, it was where she grew up, where she met her best friend, but it was also the place where she lost everything that mattered.

A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts, her eyes looking up to meet with the caramel ones of her best friend.

“We’re done here, let’s go,” He spoke softly, nodding his head towards the door, “I’ll buy you a burger, my treat.”

“With what money?” She teased.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Scott laughed, hauling her up off of the couch before pushing her gently towards the door.

The alleyway the hideout led onto was cold, shaded away from the main streets where the crowds and cars erupted into noise. It wasn’t particularly the nicest part of the city but that was the point, it was grim enough to brush off any unwanted attention from the gatherings that went on within those walls.

The line from where the shade began to where the sun beamed across the city was a slick line across the entry of the alley, almost acting as if you were walking into a completely different world. The sun beamed down onto the streets of the city, the bright rays bouncing off of the clear windows of cafes, shops, and shining through plastic water bottles people were carrying as they explored. The little glints of light caught Eloise’s eyes, a small smile gracing her face as she looked around at the city which they called home. She watched as crowds passed her; the elderly couple who were here on holiday which she learnt after catching a snippet of their conversation regarding how they only had until Friday when they would be going home, the young traveller who walked with google maps open on her phone when she accidently walked in Scott before apologising and continuing on her way. She loved that New York was full of different people, residents and holidaymakers. She always wondered what it would be like to visit a city or country she had never seen before, wishing to one day experience the awe of seeing a new city for the first time, to explore a new culture and to embrace the atmosphere of a new place.

But alas, she was stuck in New York. Her lifestyle tied her to the city, bounding her with great restriction so all she could do was dream. Something she did almost every night… She dreamed of the day her and her mum baked cupcakes for her dad’s birthday, burning them as well as decorating them horribly. She dreamed of the days where she would run around at the park for hours, never tiring as her dad would chase after her, where they would pick flowers from a nearby field and make flower crowns. Eloise missed those days; she missed her family being around her constantly. She missed the reassurance of her father telling her that she was okay when she would fall and scrape her knee, and she missed the sound of her mother gently singing to her as she tried to fall asleep on the nights where she was restless.

She missed them.

She wondered what her parents would think of her if they saw her now. What would her mother say if she saw how she had turned out? She had grown up a lot since the last time she saw her, and even more so since she last saw her dad. Eloise was scared to think of how long it had been, the number of years haunting her as the number repeated itself in her mind. She was always told her mother would be proud of her but Eloise highly doubted that, learning that it was her mother’s request to keep Eloise out of the life that the gang led but alas she fell into it just like her dad did at a young age.

Her dad tried hard to keep Eloise separated from the lifestyle his wife so desperately wanted to barricade her from. He always talked about how much he failed Natalia when he was drunk, crying to himself in the living room late at night while he nursed numerous glasses of whiskey and bourbon. Eloise never disturbed him when he in that state, knowing to get a glass of water from the kitchen as well as a strip of paracetamol and leave them on the kitchen table, and to take herself up to her bedroom where she would lay in bed and listen out for her father’s cries.

“El!” Scott yelled out, grabbing onto her arm as he pulled her back.

The sound of a loud horn and an aggressive shout broke Eloise from her thoughts again, her eyes darting up as she witnessed the large delivery truck railroad across the street. Eloise didn’t even see it nor hear it, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the back end of the truck for a few seconds before her eyes were pulled to Scott’s shocked expression.

“Why didn’t you stop?”

She panted, a little flustered as she looked down at her feet before looking up and seeing the red glowing ‘stop’ sign on the other side of the crossing. She didn’t know why she didn’t stop; she didn’t even remember hearing the truck barrelling towards the crossing on the street nor see the crowds of people waiting to cross. She didn’t know what made her feet keep on walking.

“Maybe Han was right,” Scott chuckled nervously, looking to see the rattled expression on his best friend’s face, “Maybe you really do have a death wish.”

She shoved him lightly, the attempt being pretty pathetic even for a gentle nudge. She blinked a few times to readjust her eyes as she stared up at the glowing sign, waiting for it to signal that they could walk. She really needed to focus. Two near death experiences in one day were not what she needed.

“You do actually want to make it to your twenty-first birthday, right?” Scott laughed from beside her, raising his eyebrows as he watched her eyes roll to the back of her head at his remark.

“It’s debatable if you’re gonna continue like this,” She sighed, taking the motion of other people walking as a sign that it was now safe to cross.

It scared Eloise to think she was going to be twenty-one in just a few weeks. Her birthday scared her every year, the thought of becoming another year older meant another year without those she loved most. God, she needed to move forward. She wanted to be able to move past her parent’s deaths, but they haunted her every day. She was a witness to both, each incident being years apart, but Eloise was there, she was the one who found each of their bodies in her own home; a sight she would never be able to forget.

Maybe one day she would be able to think of them and smile. She smiled when she thought of them now, but what she wanted was to think of them and only smile. She wanted no tears, no sadness, no pain, only smiles and fond memories.

She brought her attention back to where her and Scott were heading in the first place. God, she needed to get out of her head more. She joined the queue of the burger van as she stood next to the blonde, freakishly tall, man. Scott wasn’t that much taller than her, but she still considered him to be ‘freakishly’ tall considering she was classified as tall for the ‘average woman’. Being on the taller side did have some advantages but at the same time she did have the odd moment or two when she wished she were a little more petite.

“What do you want to eat?” Scott asked her, leaning slightly in her direction in order to get a better view of the menu to his right, “You can have whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” She repeated, smirking as she glanced at the menu, already imagining the painfully long list she could recite to irritate her best friend.

“Well, whatever you want as long it in under $5,” He shrugged, feeling the impact of a hand hit his arm as he avoided the glare Eloise was shooting his way, “I said it was my treat but a man’s gotta save money.”

“You’re so stupid,” Eloise laughed, “You offer to take me out for food, tell me that you’re paying then tell me I can’t have anything that costs more than $5. You’re such a cheapskate!”

“If I had known you wanted a five-course meal then I would have picked a cheaper date.” He mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” She queried, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she looked at him through his sunglasses, knowing fine well what he had just said.

Scott could have sworn she had laser vision as he could feel his glasses melting from his face at the look that she gave him. “Nothing.” He quickly blurted, the usual bright smile reappearing on his face as he flashed the toothy grin towards the girl stood beside him.

As much as Eloise feared what her parents would think of her; she couldn’t help but to admit that she was comfortable in the life she lived. She was comfortable in her apartment, she liked her neighbours – the fact they didn’t know what she did helped with that – because they were kind to her, she liked her friends, especially the ones who weren’t linked to the gang; the ones she had made through high school and on nights out.

Maybe one day she would make a change; break free from the confinements of the gang and New York City, to escape and start afresh somewhere new, somewhere where no one knew her name or knew her past.

A girl could dream.

[themulberrytree]

character sheet.

full name: Shallan Davar pronunciation: Sha-Lahn Dah-var (fuck IPA i am not doing that shit again)

nicknames: strong one (by hoid), love, dear (by adolin), storming woman (mostly by kaladin)

height: 5′6″ age: 19/20 (rosharan years) / 21-22 (earth years)   zodiac: gemini (donut ask me when her bday is i donut have a date yet) languages: (spoken/written): veden (native), alethi, azish, selay (moderate skill in speaking only) thaylen (reading/writing only).

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour: rich, deep red, only red. eye colour: bright blue skin tone: shallan is very fair, though she spends as much time in the sun as she can, so her face is dusted with freckles. body type: slim and slender. unlike the curvaceous body type often seen on alethi women, shallan is much smaller both in figure and stature. she could be mistaken for delicate, at first glance. as she spends more time training with her blade, her body becomes much more defined and muscular, but she will never achieve any kind of bulky muscles, she simply does not have the body type.

accent: her natural veder accent would be considered low, given shallan’s isolation out in the countryside. she can speak in a more posh (re: acceptable) accent, but she has little reason to do so. dominant hand: right posture: shallan has the posture of a perfect vorin lady, back straight and shoulders back at all times. when sitting, her freehand always covers her safehand, placed delicately in her lap unless she is sketching. when walking, her hands are clasped in front of her. she is rarely animated in her posture when speaking, and depending on her company, she works hard to blend in. when alone, shallan may slouch when studying, or do her work in a very unlady like fashion on her bed. if she trusts her present company, they may witness this lapse in acceptable posture, but only if she trusts them.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth: jah kaved hometown: some hick town in the middle of the countryside. birth weight / height: 6 pounds, 3 ounces. 18 inches. manner of birth: natural first words: pa siblings: (all elder, all brothers) helaran, balat, twins: wikim and jushu parents: lin davar, and an unnamed mother, malise davar (step mother), all deceased. parental involvement: shallan remembers a somewhat happy childhood (although the likelihood of that being the case is up for debate). her mother taught her how to draw, and was in charge of shallan’s education in the early years. much of her early years have been forgotten due to the trauma of shallan’s witnessing (see: committing) her mother’s murder. she did not speak at all for half a year afterwards. from that point on, her father became overbearing, and with each year he was less of the man shallan had first known. he was violent towards two of her brothers and the servants, often scaring away tutors, so shallan’s education in those critical years was sporadic at best. her father demanded complete obedience, and any deviation on her part meant that a servant got beaten in her place. in order to spare them and placate her father, shallan worked hard to draw little attention to herself and obey. it was her father who also chose her devotary (purity) rather than her having the opportunity to choose for herself.

ADULT LIFE

occupation: she is the ward of jasnah kholin, having managed to convince the woman she was worthy of wardship at seventeen. after being taken in, shallan begins her education in scholarship, fine tuning her skills in making logic based arguments, study, and critical thinking.

on the shattered plains, she secures work with highprince sebarial as a clerk while maintaining the work in finding urithiru that she started with jasnah, and working to infiltrate the secret group known as the ghostbloods.

she latter assumes a more public role as a knight radiant, the first of the order of lightweavers in centuries. while her status as a radiant is known, she works very hard to keep her work covert. she deals in spywork and information, and uses her lightweaving to form disguises for herself and associates. she has also used her abilities to battle unmade, work oathgates, and help run reconnaissance in kholinar.

as highprincess, her duties would include helping manage affairs of the realm and detecting intrigue to better aid her husband.

close friends: lmafo what are those????? jk, her brothers, later adolin, renarin, kaladin, jasnah (sort of, more teacher/student) wit/hoid (when he’s around). relationship status: verse dependent, married to adolin kholin in canon financial status: her family is destitute, and shallan herself has little experience in personally handling money. that being said, she knows how to balance finances and plan expenses. when working for sebarial, she manages to secure a comfortable pay from him, her later marriage secures her financial security, though her status as a radiant could’ve done that too. driver’s license: she could probably drive, but would be terrible at it due to the fact that she’d keep lookin out the window. she has little experience on horseback, but can manage. criminal record: technically none yet, having managed to get away with murder twice. she had also stolen successfully from jasnah kholin.  

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: biromantic, could be polyromantic preferred emotional role: submissive (someone pls force her to accept comfort i am beggin) | dominant |  switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role: submissive |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed | libido: she’s basically DTF anytime and anywhere, and yes, i wish i were kidding, but she’s just horny on main. turn ons: she’s into more traditional kinds of attractiveness, people who look put together. but she really enjoys some kind of hint at wildness, hair that won’t quite stay, a kind of subtle ruggedness. post-battle disheveledness  is HOT. allow her to talk about her studies, things she’s working on or wanting to start, she’ll love that. don’t be afraid to talk about your own interests, she goes off on her own a lot, so she’ll want someone with their own hobbies too. be kind, be willing to grow and change and share. be there if she asks. laugh at her absolutely fucking awful jokes. on the more physical side, not being afraid to show affection in public. that spot on the neck below the ear? yeah, kiss it. leave a mark. kiss the inside of her wrist. do not be afraid to be rough with her, she’s not easily hurt and she doesn’t always like being treated like a china doll. go to town. BUT you must also be good at taking your time. tenderness is a good trait to have in every day life, but if you can translate that into the intimacy of the bedroom, give her a slow buildup, ur golden. turn offs: unnecessary rudeness, lack of independence. anyone who treats her like she needs protecting, or thinks she needs to confine herself in some way, for any amount of time. never laughing at her terrible jokes, or indulging her seemingly random curiosities. being a skybreaker. love language: physical touch is primary, but quality time and words of affirmation are also great. relationship tendencies: shallan has a tendency to fall fast. even when she’s telling herself to be careful and take things slow, it’s easy to pull her in and have her grow an attachment on a superficial level fairly early. she’s good about letting the other person lean on her for support, but she’s not so great when it comes to sharing anything deep about herself. she has a habit of trying to mold herself into what she thinks the other person would like, and clinging to that. if confused she might play around with feelings, though she’s not fully aware she’s doing it. she’s big on positive reinforcement, she’ll let you know if she enjoys your company, and when she’s invested in the relationship, she’ll look for fun ways to spend time with that person. she might attempt to appear more serious and mature than she is, but her silliness will slip out. when she loves though, she loves completely, and a distracted heart is settled once she makes a decision about what she wants.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song: flowers, from ha.des.town iris, goo goo dolls moth’s wings, passion pit: this is more a general vibe. i picture it when shallan is in a creative spurt. sun, sleeping at last: for the same creation aesthetic. fire drills, dessa (for when she finally Snaps. and also some lines just really Hit)

hobbies to pass the time: drawing is the big one. she’s always got her sketchbook and something to draw with on hand. it’s an art she’s perfected and uses it both for her lightweaving, and to relax. she enjoys scholarship, exploring history is of a special interest, but taking a closer look at the local flora and fauna is just as fun. she’s naturally curious, so if something grabs her attention, she will want to take a look. she also enjoys discussing what she’s working on with other people, sometimes just so she can use them as a sounding board, but also because they might have insights she doesn’t. it’s very fun for her to explore ideas. she likes going on walks, exploring the area around her. just spending quality time with people she enjoys too. mental illnesses: Dissociative Personality Disorder is the big one. ADHD, PTSD, some depression. physical illnesses: None. left or right brained: right fears: CONFINEMENT. she fears vulnerability and relying others, but she also craves it quite a bit. she fears being understood completely because she’s certain there isn’t anything left to love if someone were to see everything. she fears what she can’t understand, and losing the people she loves, more than she already has. self confidence level: extremely low. she projects an air of self confidence, but frequently downplays her talents. she finds it completely astounding that adolin might actually find her attractive in any sense, let alone be interested in her as a person. her trauma and what she precieves as crimes has left her feeling hollowed out, because she is so terrified of someone really Seeing her, she works hard to hide those corners of herself from others and often feels like she’s failing at even that. vulnerabilities: shallan keeps secrets. too many of them. and she can often dig herself into a pit and struggle to get herself out, and even when she’s in that deep, she has difficulty asking for help. she doesn’t always think things through. her dpd can leave her particularly vulnerable depending on which personality is in control (veil in particular has trouble seeing the Big Picture). it’s easy to goad her into a fight (of the verbal variety) and she will stop at nothing to have the last word. if you have members of her family to hold over her, that’s a good tool. and shallan cannot resist a good mystery, that is a surefire way to pull her in.

tagged by: @luck-crowned tagging: @marblecarved (for mary, emma, or horace!), @melnchly (meg or ros), @minastiriiths, @arturiusrex, @gxtenoughnxrve, @ambiidexter, and @arborvitas

[girllovescomic]

Winter Begonia Episode 6 recap

One of my favorite episode, it is in my eyes when Cheng Fengtai (Er Ye) truly falls for our little singer, Shang Xirui.  He was already attracted to him, evidenced by the gaze, but this is what tips him over the line from infatuation to love. This is also an episode where you see how the opera lyrics are integral to the plot. 

We hear Er Ye’s internal thoughts as he watches the opera, engrossed in Shang Lao Ban’s interpretation of Yang Guifei. He tells that when one leaves the Palace for Eternal Youth (the name of the Opera), they can see their lives in the story or some similarities between them and the character, but for him it goes deeper.  He sees the helplessness and compromise he and his family had to make due to circumstances.  For him, he had to give up his literary dreams and return home (from Europe, I presume) to take the family business which had been in ruin. He had no idea what he was doing because he was young, having to deal with creditors taking away everything, their employees leaving them and his sister Meixin forced to marry the Commander Cao and leave the man she loved, so they can settle some debts.  Apparently, this was not enough, leading him to marry Fan Xian aka Er Nainai, who turns out had a lucrative career as a businesswoman that she was forced to becoming a housewife, confined inside the mansion walls to raise their children.  By the way, can we command the way Huang Xiaoming speaks English? He even speaks better than the white girl talking to him.  LOL. 

The play, or specifically the way SXR sings it exposes all the emotions he had pushed aside as he realize that in life you cannot always do what you want, that sometimes the hand of fate forces you to make choices that goes against your dreams, making you suffer silently as you bite your lips and trudge through life. Ooof, I felt that one to my core.  We go back to Shang Lao Ban singing what appears to be sad song. CFT is completely absorbed, to the point of tears as he resumes his narration.  

To him, Xirui’s Yang Guifei is unwilling to submit to fate, to kill herself because the courtiers ask her to, but freely choosing to sacrifice herself

In one of the most beautiful sequence that made me weep, we see SXR as Yang Guifei standing afar from CFT talking to each other, the white cloth falling on the floor.  She (talking about Yang Guifei) is reaching out to him, which makes him look around wondering if he is the one she wants. He tells her that it is her life, he can’t help her; she responds that she does not need his help, she just wants to look at her.  He laments that she did not need to die as long as she was willing to accept her status, but she responds what was she supposed to let go of. He replies that should have taken conformed to the hand of fate, like he did,  but to her that would have been meaningless. He tries to stop her from killing herself, but she replies that if she delays it more, she might start to regret it.  We go back to the present time and CFT is weeping, clearly affected.  Sigh, what a scene.  I am crying while typing this.  

SXR is doing his thing, marveling the audience, who are equally moved.  With everyone gone, CFT is alone in his VIP box, thinking of his mother, who left to pursue her dreams as her singer instead of being confined in her role as mother and wife.  CFT finally understands why his mother made that decision to go back to her love of the opera, as he walks dazed.  

SXR watches as CFT walks dazed to his house.  He is so struck, he doesn’t even see or hear anyone, not his wife nor his household manager.  The man is completely gone, his mind still on his vision of Yang Guifei. 

Again, we are privy to his thoughts and he tells us that SXR not only portrays Yang Guifei but embodies her, not simply acting her out, but being a living and breathing embodiment of the tragic concubine, like a reincarnation. OOOOF, this is poetry! As an aside, this scene was in the novel as well, although not as poetic.  He stands in the courtyard as snowfall as if in a dream-like state, stumbling through his house, much to the other’ consternation.  

Still in a daze, CFT is sitting and humming to himself.  Through a conversation between his wife and the annoying maid, it has been a half day he’s been in this position and that he has not gone to any of his social functions, discuss business or play mahjong, for the past couple of days, completely uninterested in anything.  The annoying maid of course has to run her mouth, claiming that at least Er Ye stays at home instead of being seduced by girls. I swear this girl has a one-track mind. He has been seduced, but not some women, but by an adorable opera singer who can lift his soul. Er Nainai responds that she doesn't care about this nonsense, she feels uneasy by this version of her husband. She clearly knows the annoying little maid can’t process such adult thinking and tells her so.  I like this side of Er Nainai. Meanwhile, Er Ye’s mind is still on the songs and may I say, Huang Xiaoming looks absolutely gorgeous in it.

He tries to replicate the experience, but none of the records he pick come close to the original.  Fan Lian is completely confused by his BIL’s reaction, wondering what he is looking for.  Like a lovestruck teenager who has discover her first pop idol, CFT confesses that he wants to hear Shang Xirui. Fanboy Fan Lian tells him that he has some of SXR records, and will lend it to him, but that is not what CFT is really looking for. 

Me, when I hear shitty house music

 He tells his BIL that when SXR is on stage he is a completely different person, as if he just walked out of book or an opera script.  Fan Lian tells him that he said something similar to SXR, “Body in the mortal realm, but spirit in the performance.” Ooof, I wished I could write something like that in my stories. He adds that of course, it’s a simplistic way to describe the singer’s performance, especially when taking into account his irascible personality and his nebulous past with his cousin.  But he adores the man’s talent, so he is able to ignore all that.  I completely understand bro.  I have a lot of celebrities that I enjoy their work, but dislike their personalities.  Sometimes you have to separate the art from the man/woman.  

CFT tells him that is not what he cares about, since he has no understanding of the art form, but he actually cares about the man’s spirit, which he finds special.  Well, someone is smitten. He finds it refined, rich and sensitive.  He is not only a performer who is amazing at what he does, but compare to him, everyone else are mere mortals.  This goes above Fan Lian’s head.  The look on CFT’s face says it all; this is a man who has fallen in love, so yeah, Fan Lian, you can’t understand what he is talking about or feeling. 

Dressed up in a fabulous attire and strutting his stuff, while his wife looks on, relieved that he is finally leaving the house, he goes out to find SXR.  Er Nainai tells Meixin that she used to be uneasy whenever Er Ye left the house, but now she is relieved that he is going out, as long as his heart is with his family. You might end up regretting those words.  

Meanwhile, SXR is facing another crisis as the opera singer who he was replacing while he was out sick as suddenly decided to come back, probably because he is jealous at the success our little divo is having.  Xiao Lai can’t believe this bullshit, especially since they are running out of place to perform.  

Waiting like a teenage boy for his crush, CFT is standing next to his car, when he spots Shang Lao Ban coming out of the theater with Xiao Lai.  He presses on the horn to get his crush’s attention and I swear this is the cutest thing ever.  SXR sends away Xiao Lai who does not seemed to happy that her boss is spending time with the businessman. Shang Lao Ban asks Er Ye how long he has been waiting in the cold instead of coming backstage. CFT looks at him like a man in love looks at his object of affection. I am so jealous of this fictional character! Seriously, he is practically gazing at the other man, who can only smile and asks where they are going.  Oh my, is this their first date? I squeal! He is taking him for an afternoon tea and actually wants to know what he would like to eat. Our little glutton tells him that he wants something sweet and opens the door to let him in.  I need to pause for a second, tis tew much. 

SXR is scarfing down on a chocolate cake and asks where Er Ye went after the show.  He wants to have his opinion about his performance, which CFT tells him it was really great. In other operas, Yang Guifei would be forced to die at Mawei Station, but SXR version sang about willingly giving her life for love, turning the damsel into a hero.  He was especially struck by one of the lyrics, which is the same lyrics SXR loves about the opera, brought to tears.  

CFT flashes a 1000 watt smile upon hearing that and tells him that his performance of Palace of Eternal Youth does not resemble other version of this opera and should be called something else, like the Legend of the Flourishing Tang Dynasty.  A little history background here.  Yang Guifei was Emperor Ming of Tang’s favored concubine, whom he stole from his own son.  Apparently he lavished her with gifts, built an expensive pavilion for her, neglecting his duties as an Emperor, so much so there was a rebellion.  Wanting to stop the rebellion, the courtiers forced the Emperor to demand Yang Guifei to be killed as they saw her and her family as the reason for the unrest.  Unlike the opera, she does not kill herself, but is killed by Gao Lishin and her body brought to the head of the rebellion as proof of her death.  However, the marks the slow decline of the dynasty..

SXR is confused by what CFT is saying, not grasping the meaning behind the title.  CFT explains that Palace of Eternal Youth is a love story between to high status people confined by their roles, that of an Emperor and his consort.  They have to abide to what his expected of them in their respective roles.  The play not only depicts this confinement, but also the rise and fall of a nation.  SXR version of the play since about a flourishing dynasty yet it is focus on a tragedy of sacrifice, which could be reflected in 1930s China before the horrors of the occupation and the valiant resistance from both communists and nationalists to oust the invaders. This goes above the uneducated SXR who explains to CFT that in the second act of the play, Yang Guifei had angered the Emperor in a fit of jealousy , but afterwards made up.  The reason for the disagreement was due to the fact the Emperor was enamored with another woman called JIang Caiping, feeling Yang Guifei sacrificed herself for no reason.  CFT sees a parallel between SXR situation with Mengping and his story.  SXR tells him that indeed he sees himself in the stories he sings. CFT tells him that he understands as he used to see that opera performers were similar to their characters, but when he saw SXR performed Yang Guifei, he was more than a mere embodiment but was the actual person, which makes SXR sees that CFT understands his performance in depth, and adds that he was using his soul to perform.  This gets CFT to smile, one that I bet even his wife never seen.  It is a naked smile what they shows his true emotion.  We are witnessing the connection of two souls here and it's a beautiful thing.  Once again, how this past censorship is beyond me. 

Look at this smile!

Meanwhile the troupe is waiting.  I have a feeling Xiao Lai told the troupe their leader had left with Er Ye.  As soon as the duo appears, everyone stands up in attention.  SXR shouts to Xiao Lai to warm up some wine, while Shi Jiu is trying her best to put her flirt on. Oh sis, you are wasting your time.  The man is not interested. 

She comments that finally her boss is seeing the light, associating himself with Commander Cao’s BIL is the next best thing than getting the actual man to dispel the rumors and help them out of their desperate situation. The duo chat some more, over wine, talking about the difference between Western Opera and Eastern Opera performers, especially the castrato. They talk about skills needed to be a good singer. They get drunk, so much so that SXR and are hilarious.  

SXR is in his first costume he ever used when performing and despite being average compared to now, he considers it his most prized one; it is his armor, his guts.  I have to say it is a beautiful piece, showcasing the meticulous work put in Eastern embroidery and their use of pearls.  

CFT reveals that he wrote a story when he was in school abroad.  SXR says he is not surprised since he can see that Er Ye understands the art on a deeper level and why they are connecting.  CFT tells him of his story, which is about a woman who eloped with a man she loved, but who abandoned.  While she waited at home, she had many lovers, who came and gone, until the woman finally realize that she didn’t need these men in her life.  They were just a passing folly, not dependable to ensure her happiness and that by controlling her fate, she can do so.  She went on to open her own weaving shop, taking in widows and orphans and went on to have great success, so much so, she was asked by the Empress to make her clothes.  Damn, that is a freaking good story! They laugh and SXR thinks the morale of the story is that for a woman to control her fate, she needs money. Hmm.. aren’t we all? Shang Lao Ban reminds might be too progressive for Beijing Opera; instead the protagonist would be killed.  CFT tells him that stories transcends culture or gender which seems to make SXR teary.  As a performer, he is seen as the dregs of Chinese society, lower than a prostitute, despite the fame. I bet he wished to live in a world that would dispense of this hierarchical structure and see his profession respected by those in higher status.  He tells CFT that he would love to play this type of woman, and I am hoping this is a hint of collaboration between the two.  I actually would love to see him play this kind of character.

The troupe is eavesdropping, hoping their leader would hit up CFT’s wallet to help them out when Lao Ge comes in looking for his boss.  They push him out, claiming Cheng Er Ye is not inside.  Shi Jiu says they should keep anyone from interrupting since it might be their only opportunity; Dashen replies that it depends on their leader’s abilities to charm beg Cheng Er Ye for help.  

Meanwhile, the duo is still discussing opera.  Er Ye does not understand that for the sake of expediency, why not only wear a mask like the Japanese kabuki performers do, which would save time on makeup.  This appears to make SXR laugh hard.  He tells Er Ye that it is not the same thing because you will not be able to see the facial expression, which are an integral part of the opera.  Wearing a mask is like being a ghost on stage, a bit like dubbed voices take away the essence of the emotions conveyed by the actors (any C drama fans would understand).  

They drink again and SXR reveals this has been the happiest day since he came to Beijing.  He never expected to become kindred spirits with Commander Cao’s BIL.  CFT ponders about the title, which constrains me like the rest of his life.  But SXR sees through the facade of a man who seems powerful and wealthy, like the fictional character, General Gao Yaonei who took Lin Chong’s wife, but turns out to be a good person, while CFT also had the wrong picture of Shang Lao Ban as an arrogant prima donna on the cray cray side, but is actually a good person as well.  Shang Lao Ban is asleep and he looks so cute.  The troupe is still standing at the door when a drunk Cheng Er Ye stumbles out.  The troupe does not want to let him go back home and convince him to stay by claiming their leader would beat him up if he leaves without saying goodbye.  Lol these sneaky mofos. It actually succeed and Cheng Er Ye returns to sleep with our adorable Shang Lao Ban.  They have no idea they are helping the ship sail.  

Meanwhile, the weasel family(Jiang father and son) are discussing SXR financial problems and the fact he had to pawn his costume to pay the rent. They are jubilating at the difficulties Shuiyin troupe is facing, especially since they are a big one and there are bound to have problems as morale starts to get low and the funds disappears. With losing his spot at the theater and not being shrewd, he will have problems raising money, leading to his own people turning against him.  Its the next day and the member wants to know how his chat with Cheng Er Ye went, in the hope they got themselves a rich sponsor.  SXR is like “the hell are you talking about? What difficulties?” Then it dawns on him what they are asking and that angers him.  He lets them know that his “friendship" with Er Ye is on a different level, one of being kindred spirits.  He wouldn’t dare use him for money. 

They grumble until CFT appears; he looks like he didn’t sleep on a cushy mattress like he has at home.  CFT asks if SXR heard some rumbling noises last night and SXR asks if it hail last night.  Judging from his face, he knows where this noise came from and Dashen confirms it was loud snoring. LOL.  SXR is obfuscated, claiming he never snores. Xiao Lai brings out the rinse and CFT is also given one.  As he is about to rinse his mouth, SXR breaks out in a voice exercise that makes CFT gulped the rinse.  LOL  There’s a competition between him and one of the merchant selling fried pancake.  There’s a knock on the door and the merchant as left a piece of fried dough for Shang Lao Ban, claiming it as gift.  He splits it and gives a piece to CFT, who can’t turn it down, but you can tell has no interest in putting this commoner’s food in his stomach.  So boogie. While CFT struggles to eat the dough, SXR invites to take him somewhere fun, but the troupe goad Xiao Lai to remind SXR they have to clean out the backstage of the opera house, hoping CFT would hear about their troubles.  SXR is having none of that, sending some of them to clean out their stuff.  He clearly does not want to ask money from CFT and I can’t blame him.  Money has a way to create unease and inequality, especially in a budding relationship/friendship.  Once you owe someone money, it causes problem, especially when you have to pay it back.  SXR leaves with CFT in tow, who still has not taken a bite of the fried dough, leaving it behind for the others. The way he drops the pancake and wipes his hand is so boogie, I cannot.

They walk through a street where many circus-like performers are showing their talent. They are walking so closely to each other already, le sigh. The area is called Tianqiao and someone in the Viki comments stated this is the closest to the amusement park date trope so prevalent in Asian dramas, and I couldn’t agree more. CFT compares it to the Shanghai’s Great World Amusement Park, confirming the statement above.  It is apparently an entertainment and amusement arcade, which opened back in 1917.  Shang Lao Ban reveals that he once sang there and despite the place having a roof which would carry his voice better, he prefers the open air of Tianqiao.  Clearly not full from the friend pancake, he goes and buys persimmon cake.  Geez where does the food go?! He offers one to Er Ye who, of course, turns it down. 

Look how close they are walking!!!

 Unbeknown to him, he is the victim of a pickpocket.  Trying to get his money to buy cigarette (hmm... wait, this is far more unhealthy than the greasy food Shang Lao Ban is offering you bro!), he realizes what happened.  Our kung fu penguin goes after the thief and kicks ass.  Seriously, he is amazing.  CFT looks like he is enjoying seeing his crush fighting skill, especially he is far more proficient with a gun than his fists. He gets the money back and tells the thief to leave.  CFT asks why he didn’t take the thief to the cops, but SXR tells him the way of the street is that if a thief got his ass kicked, that is sufficient punishment. CFT asks about his kung fu skills, saying it is is good looking (Ohhh); SXR reveals it is a skill that has been passed down from his father, the Shang Family Rod, a type of martial arts that is different from the fake fighting on stage that can do real damage.  CFT comments that SXR must have been beaten a lot when he was a child, which the singer admits.  If you seen Farewell My Concubine, you know the abuse these kids go through to become performers.  It is gross.  SXR invites CFT to continue with their walk and this is where it ends.

Ooof, this episode was heavy in emotion and exposition. I truly think this is where the infatuation Cheng Fengtai had developed for our little divo turns into love and where Shang Xirui gets to see the shrewd businessman has someone who possesses a similar artistic passion who had to give it up for circumstances out of his control.   He is like the real Yang Guifei who was forced to accept her fate and be killed by Gao Lishi, whereas Shang Xirui of the opera who chose to sacrifice herself for her love, giving himself fully to his passion. We are also seeing how much the troupe is suffering because of the rumored feud with Commander Cao, which sets up lots of conflicts that will set up the end of our act 1 and push our protagonists to make a decision that will forever change their lives. 

[cinemaocd]

The Mirror and the Light raises more questions than it answers

Going into The Mirror and the Light, the third and necessarily final book in Hilary Mantel’s Thomas Cromwell trilogy, the basic plot wasn’t much in doubt. Thomas Cromwell would rise. Thomas Cromwell would fall. In the summer of 1540 he would be executed. Along the way his son would get married, while he remained single, despite wide-spread speculation that he was angling after the King’s daughter Mary Tudor. Those who Cromwell promoted would be raised as well and some would remain loyal while others would betray him. Cromwell’s fall would come some time after Henry VIII’s unsuccessful marriage to Anne of Cleves, and his role in promoting that marriage would play some part in his downfall. Cromwell’s past interactions with his two most powerful enemies, Stephen Gardiner and the Duke of Norfolk, would also have some bearing on his downfall, since they were the main figures behind his arrest.

These are the undisputed big historical facts that Mantel had to work with, or in many cases, work around. There were many other smaller facts that she had to play with as well, some of which appear in the book as delightful asides like Cromwell putting a neighbor’s house on rollers in order to settle a boundary dispute, or Cromwell importing beavers to control the streams and rivers of England. There was also some evidence that Cromwell had an illegitimate daughter, born sometime after his wife’s death. Mantel massages the timeline to make this fit into her backstory of original characters from the first two books, and cleverly ties the daughter to the seemingly random charge in his arrest that he “sheltered Anabaptists.”

Of course Mantel created a whole plot, a series of original characters, and interpretations of historical figures and events for the first two books. They were fiction, after all. Like any good writer (and Mantel is an excellent writer, always in control of her material), she left questions unanswered to hook readers into the third book. If you were expecting these plots to be tidily resolved, you will be disappointed in The Mirror and the Light. The book fails to resolve many questions, creates more plot threads and then leaves those loose as well. Does that mean the book isn’t successful? I would argue that it is precisely because she fails to resolve these puzzles and questions, that Mantel manages to walk the knife edge between genre fiction and literature with a big “L.” She is certainly aware that these characters have all been the main actors in romance novels and murder mysteries as well as history plays. Indeed that is the subtext of almost every movement of plot within the novels.

While Wolf Hall seemed to be a conversation with playwright Robert Bolt about the veracity of A Man for All Seasons, which made Thomas More the hero and Cromwell the villain; this last installment seems to be deeply concerned with T.S. Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral, about the murder of Thomas Becket at the hands of Henry II. Cromwell digs up Becket’s bones at their resting place in Canterbury, tears down statues of Becket and even keeps the supposed remains of the martyr in his house, in case the king changes his mind. He  considers commissioning a play that shows what a terrible person Becket was for disobeying his king and bowing to Rome. Henry II was excommunicated, and Mantel dwells on the possibility that if the current Henry suffers the same fate, the whole nation could be lost to invaders given free reign by the pope to do their worst to the heretics. This is one of the reasons Cromwell is so eager to align England with Lutheran princes via the marriage with Cleves. But of course, Cromwell, as always, has half a dozen reasons for everything he does.

Eliot celebrates Becket as a champion of the separation of powers of church and state, a founding principal of modern democracies and one which was much threatened during the time Eliot wrote the play, 1935, with fascism on the rise in Europe. Of course it does not take a rocket scientist or even a political scientist to put two and two together with our own times. Cromwell would be anti-Brexit, pro NHS and anti austerity. Yet, he would also be the kind of neo-liberal who would be quietly feathering his own nest, profiting from selling off National Trust properties all the while making speeches about the enduring greatness of the British monarchy. For every eerily prescient passage about the plague and it’s random destructive path through society, there is a reminder of just how foreign a country the past is: Cromwell--a becon of rationality and enlightenment--believes the source of his fever is a snake he held in Italy. For every kindly head of an English department who is inspired by Cromwell’s leadership, there is a despicable grotesque like Steve Bannon who admires Cromwell’s ability to seize both religious and political power who sees himself, like “self made” white men everywhere, the victim of the elitism that Cromwell faced. 

But these are questions for people who get their essays in front of more eyeballs than I ever will. What do I, the Cromwell fanatic think of the new book?

I think die hard fans of the first two books will be generally pleased with this installment. We get so much more Cromwell than ever before. We are moving more slowly through his life and we are, with exception of a few enlightening flashbacks, solidly in the company of the mature, sardonic, earthy man that we we got to know in Bring Up the Bodies. In short, Cromwell at fifty is a pure joy. Mantel as with the previous installments surrounds him with a crew of lively and memorable companions. From his son who has come into his own as Sassmaster of Austin Friars, to the irrepressible Christophe, who stays with Cromwell through his confinement and walks with him to his execution, cursing the king as Cromwell could not, I love everyone in this English Reformation. Even the bad guys like Norfolk and Gardiner remain fresh. Mantel uses them thriftily, lest we tire of their antics, so that when Cromwell is blindsided by an Easter dinner with Gardiner and Norfolk it is one of the highlights of the book.

As we move closer to his doom, Cromwell has flashes of his fate, but the history fan, or even just the person who has made a close reading of Cromwell’s wikipedia entry, can see it collapsing all around him. Yet, miraculously he never wears out his welcome as other iterations of the character do. As much as I enjoyed James Frain’s Cromwell early in The Tudors his characterization gets more shrill as the story moves forward to the point where his execution is almost a relief. Cromwell is a convenient villain because so many of the facts of his life actually support that conclusion. Mantel used every trick in the book from making him the victim of child abuse, to giving Cromwell a love of animals and children to humanize him in the first two books. In the third she sharpens all of these tools, even as she readies Cromwell to make that last journey from the tower.

In the first two books, there are a number of tropes that are quite worn and flimsy. For example, the idea that it was Cromwell selected the group of petty noblemen executed with Anne Boleyn because they once participated in a masquerade mocking his former master, Cardinal Wolsey. The men were guilty of something to be sure: a kind of greedy, entitled, elitist malice, but not the crimes for which they were executed. It is a weak premise really, but Mantel made it work because of the way she showed the working of Cromwell’s mind, and the way in which she brought the reader so thoroughly into his schemes. By the time you realize that you have been spending time with a mass murderer you are so under his spell that you begin to question the entire premise of narrative fiction. Can any narrator be relied upon? Is there any such thing as a villain or a hero? Are there not elements of both in every person? Can’t the guilt for all of this blood really be laid at the feet of the often childish monarch in whose name all of this happened? Where does personal responsibility begin and end in the midst of atrocity?

All of these larger questions are floating around in the background of The Mirror and the Light and as Cromwell focuses in on the grim task of disemboweling England’s religious houses for personal and political gain, you wonder what price all of this is going to have on his soul. In Wolf Hall, Cromwell fell into a fever, (probably malaria--which had a basis in historical fact) after he managed More’s execution. Though More’s death should be seen as political triumph for him, he views it as a personal failure. Cromwell does not like saints who don’t behave like rational men. He likes men like Geoffrey Pole, who he interrogates in The Mirror and the Light. Pole gives in easily to intimidation, talks a blue streak and is pardoned and released. Cromwell suffers another bout of the fever--which he believes will ultimately take his life-- after bringing down the last and largest religious house in England, the nunnery at Shaftesbury. Now it is true that Cardinal Wolsey had an illegitimate daughter who was housed there, but Mantel takes that fact and weaves into the fabric of her story. Again it is a flimsy premise and again it works because it is surrounded by unassailable bulwark that is Cromwell’s character. Cromwell arrives at Shaftesbury with the vague plan of trying to do something for the Cardinal’s daughter before he turns her out of her home. He winds up disastrously proposing marriage to her in an almost comical scene, a proposal which she rejects with such venom that he weeps for only the second time in three books. This is a man who has lost his entire family, suffered deeply all through his childhood and adolescence and yet this is only the second time he weeps? It’s not quite logical, and like the masquerade plot, it feels all a bit creaky, yet we believe it because Cromwell.

Wolsey’s daughter also accuses Cromwell of poisoning Wolsey, a rumor which has touched Cromwell’s ears earlier in the book, from the dying lips of another bastard child, this time The Duke of Richmond, the illegitimate son of Henry VIII. The injustice of the accusation drives Cromwell’s grief more than the girl’s rejection and he becomes haunted by the idea of who is spreading this rumor. While it could be any of Cromwell’s numerous enemies, it is never fully resolved. On second or third read of this or the other books, we might find the clues that Mantel hid in the story. Similarly multiple readings of the first two books reveal clues as to who terrorized Anne Boleyn by leaving her hate mail, setting her bed on fire and murdering her dog. Mantel has not exactly solved that mystery but she puts the probable solution into the mouth of one of her least trustworthy characters, Lady Jane Rochford, the wife of the late George Boleyn. If Cromwell believes her, he doesn’t say. We are left to decide for ourselves.

In the end, Cromwell’s bout of grief-driven malaria does contribute to his downfall, as he misses a crucial session of parliament, in which Stephen Gardiner forced through a series of laws meant to reverse the Reformation. Cromwell has to stand by and watch friends and fellows in the struggle to create a bible in English, burned at the stake.  In Wolf Hall, Mantel says that a “blacksmith creates his own tools,” meaning that Cromwell created the very laws which he used to take down Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. The blacksmith imagery pays off in the final chapter of the last book, when we are reminded of Cromwell’s childhood nickname “put an edge on it” when he spies the dull instrument with which is to be executed. In The Mirror and the Light, the blacksmith is left at the mercy of his own tools. Unable to find proof of Cromwell’s heresy as a religious dissenter, Gardiner uses the law that Cromwell created to prevent any of Henry’s heirs marrying without the king’s permission. He takes idle gossip started by Cromwell’s oldest frenemy Eustace Chapuys, that Cromwell is planning to marry the Lady Mary Tudor, and uses it to fabricate the evidence used in Cromwell’s arrest. He uses the exact methods that Cromwell used to bring down Anne Boleyn: spin a rumor into fact while using the king’s momentary dissatisfaction as the window of opportunity to make ordinary ambition look treasonous.  

The scenes with Mary are both heartbreaking and hilarious, as are many of the scenes with other possible, past marriage candidates such as Bess and Jane Seymour. Just as Cromwell’s relationship with frequent correspondents Stephen Vaughn flavored the earlier books, Cromwell’s relationship with Thomas Wyatt is the closest thing to a romance that Cromwell has in The Mirror and the Light. Cromwell’s seemingly irrational loyalty to Wyatt is explained away by a deathbed promise to Wyatt’s father (there is also a convenient deathbed promise to Katherine of Aragon retconned into this book to explain the lengths he goes to to save Mary Tudor from father’s wrath). Another flimsy trope that works because of the strength of Mantel’s characterization. 

In prose that is frequently breathtaking and always interesting, Mantel saves some of her best stuff for describing the relationship between Cromwell and the king. If his friendship with the poet Wyatt is like that of a lover, his strange entanglement with Henry is like that of a spouse. In one scene Cromwell and Henry fall asleep together on a sofa. The intimacy is heartbreaking, partly because we know how it will end. When Cromwell is in his most pitched delirium of fever he realizes that Henry will use him up and spit him out. When he recovers himself, he writes The Book of Henry --treasonous advice to some imagined future privy councilor. Even if he does not consciously acknowledge  that Henry will kill him, as he has his other spouses, his fever self, his true self, seems to realize it.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Warmth: Act 1 - 2

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimers: This is only the first 1000 words of the chapter. If you would like to read the rest, click here!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

You never allowed yourself to make friends. Kuro would make a target of anyone you grew close to. Even a close acquaintance could come under the threat of your, then, sworn enemy. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone else dying because of you. Even if you're not the one who would commit the actual act of killing them. Allowing yourself to have close relations with people with such a constant threat looming by made you just as responsible.

 Your closeness to Yuku and Fuku, your old co-workers from 500 years in the future, reiterated the unfortunate truth that you will always be alone. All by yourself, except for him . He will always be by your side. Now and forever. Even after you two agreed to become allies and began to speak to each other, you found it still difficult to remain truthful to yourself and allow yourself to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures to the fullest extent.

 Mai calls your name as she runs towards you. This is one of the few days that the maids were given extra time to themselves. You all still had duties to fulfill and a castle full of guests to tend to. Because of everyone's consistent efforts, there isn't much to maintain for the next few days so long as nothing major occurs. Most of the girls spend their day in either two ways. They would stay within the castle grounds and enjoy some downtime, maybe even catch an extra wink of sleep. Most of them would head out to the town and do some shopping or gossip over some tea.

 "Some of the girls and I are going to the fabric shop. Would you like to join us?"

 You would love to go out and see the town. You'd absolutely love to, but old habits kick in and you tell Mai that you'll pass on her kind offer.

 "Oh," she seems saddened by your answer. "That's alright. I'll be sure to bring back some nice fabrics and show you them once we get back!"

 She turns away, giving you one last look from over her shoulder and walks back towards her group. You stand there and watch them disappear behind the closing castle gates. Once out of sight, you turn around to head towards your room, thinking you could perhaps sleep away the pain of having to deny yourself of, well, yourself . As you turn down into the next hallway you walk right into someone. You looked up to apologize to whoever you collided with, but to your surprise, it was Hideyoshi you had bumped into. Mitsuhide stood next to him.

 "Are you alright?" Hideyoshi asked. He seemed genuinely concerned over your well being, but it was a bit much considering you barely tapped into each other.

 You brush off his concern. "I'm fine. There’s no need to panic."

 "If you say so," he reluctantly gives in to your dismissal. "Why are you still here? Most of the maids have gone into town."

 You didn't get the chance to tell him your lie of not wanting to go. A sudden outburst made you all turn your attention away from each other. One of many vassals that Kuro had been documenting in his head chased after a frightened-looking boy. His sword was drawn and ready to swing down at him. The boy rushes his way towards you three.

 "Please...Wait!" he pleaded at the vassal.

 "Coward!" The man screams. "You dare show your face here?! Prepare to pay for your treachery with your life!"

 As the boy scrambles for cover, he picks you to hide behind. With tears in his eyes, he begs to you, "My lady! You have to help me, Please!"

 "Ranmaru, you're okay?!" Hideyoshi sputters.

 "My my," Mitsuhide finally speaks. "It seems our wayward child has finally found his way home."

 You look down to the cowering boy hiding behind you. Despite his youthful features, he was clearly a grown man. He must be rather important to Azuchi if Hideyoshi's clear worry and the vassal hell bent on slicing him up is anything to go by.

 The vassal halts his chase and stands before you, blade lowered but still out in the open and held firmly in his hand. "My lady, please step aside. This man is a traitor and you need not defile your reputation shielding him."

 You look back at Ranmaru again. He was still shivering with fear, tears ready to burst from the confines of his eyes at even the slightest of inconveniences. He does not scream traitor at all. He looks as if he'd cry on sight upon accidentally swatting a bee.

 Wait, no, that was you when you were about 40 years old.

 "Since when was running away from a man with a sword traitorous?" you ask.

 "Ranmaru abandoned his post during the fire at Honno-ji and fled like a coward! The punishment for such treason is death!"

 He ran away during a completely hectic and reasonably frightening disaster? If there's any punishment he deserved it was maybe a slap on the wrist and a scolding, not death. 

 Ranmaru peaks out from behind you. "If death is my sentence, so be it! But I beg you, let me see Lord Nobunaga first..! I need to apologize to him!"

 You couldn't help but suddenly take on the role of a shield for him. The role you've been playing all throughout your life was to protect people from death, to heal them once they began to teeter over that edge. Even after being granted permission to reside in Azuchi and working so close with the maids, you’re still a suspicious and untrustworthy person. In order to cast away the doubts about your person, you needed to show the people here that you were no threat. The only threat was Kuro, and he had fully agreed to keep his killings at bay until your eventual return or if you gave him your permission. He had essentially been tamed, even if it is just temporarily. 

 You straighten up your posture and turn towards the vassal. "Does it do you all any good, killing an ally for a single mistake?" Everyone, even the sobbing boy behind you, falls utterly silent as you speak up. "Wouldn't it be better to help him overcome his fear so that, when another disaster happens, he will be able to stand his ground? If you kill every soldier for feeling fear, you'd have no army."

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[variantoutcast]

i dont think im familiar with your ocs so if it's alright may i ask 1-5 for your most recently created/worked on oc? and 1-2 for the creator questions?

Ok so I created my OC’s in a batch and they’re the main characters of their story but I think Alex Wright is the most fun right now to talk about so I’ll do him!

1) What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Alex spent the first like 16 years of his life alone in a forest only coming into human society to eat every couple years or so (he is very much not human). So when he’s initially adjusting to regular human life with his sisters (who adopted him) he has no concept of boredom or entertainment really... but he is not used to confinement so it’s less of a question of nothing to do and more a question of like the anxiety of living in a motel room 24/7. As he adjusts (begrudgingly) he comes to really enjoy like shitty motel day television, and it becomes difficult to tear him away from that. He particularly enjoys killing monsters though, as that becomes his primary outlet for anger (somebody get this kid some healthy coping mechanisms man). So whenever Alex starts to light stuff in the motel room on fire the girls know they gotta get him out there killing something before he disappears and burns down an abandoned building and kills a regular person on accident. I’d say that at first those occurrences happen like once or twice a week, but as he settles in they become increasingly rare, especially as he realizes even victimless crimes are not truly victimless.

2) How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Alex doesn’t know what laughter is really at first, and almost never does it. He later becomes super arrogant about like killing monsters so when he’s in a fight if somebody throws a one liner at him about making him pay or killing him or whatever he barks this laugh and it’s really unsettling to the girls. Later when he softens up (he’s lived his entire life in violence, so this takes time) he will laugh at practical jokes. Oh there is an incident where he’s playing with a butterfly knife and Charlie (oldest sister) says with not a little bit of scorn something like “Alex, you know those are totally useless in a fight, right? It takes so long to open it’s literally just for show.” and Alex just fucking stabs her in the arm with it and cackles and Max (middle sister) is like “Goddamn it Alex!!! She can’t heal like you can!” and Alex has this look of horror before grumbling an apology and getting the first aid kit for Max. 

3) How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Alex doesn’t need to sleep as much as normal humans do so he at first spends his nights just watching tv but later the girls try and get him to do research and everything for them if they’re working on figuring out the monster they’re after. Alex, who lived in a forest for 16 years with minimal human contact, does NOT know how to read. So Max takes that on since Charlie doesn’t really want anything to do with him. Once Max manages to teach Alex how to read, he really really enjoys that and when he has the time he’ll work through books of increasing complexity. His first book is a magic treehouse one, that Max bought from a tiny used bookstore. When Alex is not coping very well (he gets lonely, now that he knows human companionship) he’ll reread it. Otherwise, he’ll listen to music on this battered first gen ipod he found in a victim’s pocket until the girls scrape together enough money to get him an actual smartphone (which they also have to teach him how to use).

4) How easy is it to earn their trust?

Alex is very ride or die, but it doesn’t happen right away. He picked Max because they’re both psychic and Max was one of the first people to offer him kindness in a cruel world he did not understand. They’re also both psychic, so Alex can read Max’s intentions off her and knows that she’s somebody he can trust. Charlie is disturbed by Alex at first, often threatening to kill him when Max first insists on taking him in. Since Charlie is also a very weak psychic, Alex is confused by this because Charlie is actually very conflicted by the whole thing. With characters that aren’t psychic, Alex has trouble reading intentions so often errs on the side of caution.

5) How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Pretty easy, although Alex does wind up being very forgiving, he never forgets. Like, he does wind up trusting Charlie completely, but only because he can read off of her her regret and her own willingness to make things work as time goes on. With other characters, Alex might be hurt by them, and he will forgive them for it, but he will never put himself in a position to be hurt by them again. 

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I think Alex is just really fun, because he’s not human, and he winds up being this kind of pawn character that other characters want to sway to their side, but his undying loyalty was given to Max when they first met, even though that wasn’t Max’s goal when she was kind to him. He doesn’t even wind up playing too big a role in the plot outlines that I have so far, but he’s just so much fun to think about. 

B) What inspired you to create them?

Unfortunately, the whole cast of characters here is inspired by Supernatural. I’m taking things in a fairly different direction, but Alex specifically is like dark side Jack Kline. I’ve seen some HBO SPN posts circulating that talk about Jack and while I didn’t take inspiration from those (I’d already worked out Alex before I started seeing them) it’s similar to the ideas of I have going on for him

Thanks for asking Jo!! 

Uncommon Questions for OCs