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unsaidholland · 4 years

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what a time | t. holland

hello besties, this is a tom fic that has been in the making for a while! a personal favourite trope, tom and musician!reader break up and she writes a song about him! what a time by julia michaels ft. niall horan is used as the reader’s song, definitely go listen to it if you haven’t!

warnings: it’s mostly sad so grab some tissues, fluff at the end

you, like tom, didn’t have a very typical job. while your friends went off to university to get their degrees, you went on to become a musician. that’s how you had met tom. he dmed you one day saying that he loved your music, you said you loved his movies, and the rest was history. he ended up introducing you to so many people over the ten months that you two were together, one of them being niall horan. niall and you exchanged numbers wanting to eventually collab, but neither of you thought that your breakup would be the reason that the two of you were going to release a song together.

after ten months, you and tom called it quits. you made sure the media thought it was mutual. that was the first thing you agreed on when the two of you started dating - if you ever went public and had broken up, it would seem to be a mutual agreement. neither of you wanted the other’s reputation to be ruined. little did the public know, the breakup was anything but mutual. he had broken up with you. you never knew why. he had just said, “it wasn’t working out.” that was all he left you with. that was all you had for closure. funny how forever seemed to last just over ten months, right?

you sat in your living room with a guitar in your hands. you had so much emotion that you had bottled up, and the only way you knew to get it out was songwriting. after messing around with different chords on your guitar, you found a chord progression that you were really confident in. the melody seemed to come naturally, and so your phone began to fill up with voice memos of possible lyrics.

i think of that night in the park, it was getting dark

and we stayed up for hours

what a time, what a time, what a time

you clinged to my body like you wanted it forever

what a time, what a time, what a time

for you and I

what a time, what a time

for you and I

the chorus came naturally, the verses came next, and before you knew it you had a rough draft of a song. after listening back to the song, you realized that it was missing something. you looked around the living room, sunlight peeking through the sheer, white blinds. after writing for two hours, you decided you needed a snack and a coffee.

you walked to the coffee shop down the street from your apartment. the coffee shop that you used to go to with tom. as you stood in line to order, your mind couldn’t help but wonder if he came to the shop when he was in town? did he stand in line and think about whether you still went here too? you ordered your iced coffee and pain au chocolat and sat at one of the tables. you chose a table far, far away from where you and tom used to sit. this place would always remind you of him no matter how hard you tried. the warm lights brightened up the room, but it still felt dim without tom. the coffee shop didn’t have that sense of warmth and familiarity that it used to, that tom brought to it whenever you used to go.

you watched as people walked in and out of the shop. you watched as couples kissed in line as they waited. you watched as people seemed happy. you needed to figure out what was missing with your song, and as you watched two people out on the street argue, you realized you needed a second voice on the track.

later that night, you asked niall to feature on your song. when you sent him a very rough recording of what you had written, he immediately agreed. the song was raw and real, the song revealed more about your breakup with tom than you could ever say.

•••

it had been two weeks since you released the song. what a time became popular enough to get you and niall a spot on james cordon’s show. as you were sat on stage and the band started playing the intro, you felt tears well up in your eyes. you couldn’t do it. you walked off stage where niall found you.

“come here,” was all he said. it was all he needed to say. he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back as your head sat on his chest. his heartbeat helped to calm you down. you and niall were just friends, but he was like a brother to you, especially after he helped you with the song. “let’s try again, yeah?” he asked you after a few minutes. the crew backstage just watched as he comforted you. you wiped the tears away from your face and nodded.

soon enough you were back on stage and performing the song. you fought back the tears throughout the whole performance, but whenever you felt the tears about to spill over, niall was there to get you through it. when he was close to you, he would hug you or hold your hand, and when he couldn’t he gave you a reassuring look. a look that said, “we’re going to get through this.” your voice wavered as you sang, but the audience still cheered you on. the emotion that you felt pushed you to finish the performance, because as soon as it was done, the sooner you could get home and cry, cry somewhere that wasn’t in the eyes of the spotlight.

the episode you were on aired a few days later. you couldn’t bear to watch it, but you tweeted about it to help bring some publicity towards it. little did you know, on the other side of the world, tom was watching it as it aired. he was having dinner at his parent’s house when his dad had turned on the tv to watch the late late show. tom thought nothing of it and sat down on the couch next to the twins. he laughed at the segments, but then he saw you. nikki, knowing it was going to be too much for her firstborn, instinctively went to reach for the remote, but was stopped by tom saying a quiet, “no.”

he watched you as you sang. he watched as you poured your heart out to the world. tom watched you fight back tears that no one else could see, but most importantly, tom knew that he was the cause of this. he was the one who called it off, he was the one who ripped your heart in half, he was the one who caused all your tears, grief, and pain. he could never take that back. tom was too entranced by your performance to realize that he was shedding tears. he may not have been your boyfriend anymore, but he still knew you like the back of his hand. he missed you like a child misses his mother on the first day of school. he needed you the way the ocean needs the moon’s push and pull to create waves. it took you publicly fighting back your tears on stage for tom to realize completely that he had lost something more important to him than anything.

tom listened to you sing.

you clinged to my body like you wanted it forever, what a lie, what a lie, what a lie.

he wanted you for forever. all he ever wanted was for you to stay in his arms forever, but clearly he lost everything when he broke it off. at the time it all seemed reasonable. he loved you, but he didn’t want to lose your relationship to the distance, so he called it off. tom just never thought that it would hurt this much. being separated by vast oceans didn’t make it any better either. it made everything worse. he couldn’t just go and see you. he needed to fly out to la, find out where you were staying, and find a place for him to stay. and in the case that you did take him back, he needed to change his schedule to make sure he didn’t lose you again, because he couldn’t lose you, not again.

he wiped away the tears that rolled down his flushed cheeks with the cuff of his blue midtown high sweater. as you and niall hugged at the end of the performance he thought about how perfect life was when he held you in his arms. he thought about how he should be the one holding you in his arms. he thought about how he lost everything the day he lost you. it had been a month and a half since the breakup, and he felt like he had been suffering ever since. he needed you, that was the only thing he knew to be true.

“come here darling,” nikki said, opening up her arms to wrap around her son after getting up to comfort him. he held onto her like his life depended on it. she rubbed his back and placed a tender kiss on the top of his head.

“i miss her so much.” his voice was breathy, light and filled with air, yet heavy with emotion. “mum i can’t live without her, why did i ever leave her?” he sobbed into her chest. tom didn’t care if the rest of his family was watching him sob over a girl he broke up with, he only cared about you. “i really messed up.” he pulled away to look at his mother’s expression expecting disappointment, but only seeing a soft, warm smile.

“you’re allowed to mess up. you live and you learn. the important thing is what are you going to do about it?” nicola was always a wise woman in tom’s eyes. she always knew what to say and when to say it. not only that, but she was always a good friend to him, not just his mom. she looked into tom’s brown eyes that were only swirling with emotion. deep in thought, tom could only hear his mom’s words roaming around his mind. what are you going to do about it?

•••

less than 36 hours later tom found himself in la. he was on a journey to find you, and this time he wasn’t planning on giving up. he knew where to find you.

you stumbled into your favourite coffee shop as you always did. the coffee in la was different than back home, so whenever you were in la you couldn’t stop the small coffee obsession. you sat down at a table, opening your laptop to answer some emails and get some work done. you may have been sitting alone at a table, but you were comfortable with the space.

tom had walked in, ordered a coffee and a cookie, and after paying and receiving his order, his eyes scanned the room to find you, which he easily did. you looked ethereal, he thought you were so beautiful despite only wearing jeans and a plain t-shirt. you weren’t done up, but he still thought you were absolutely gorgeous. he mustered up the courage to ask if he could sit at your table, and once the two of you made eye contact it was as if the world stopped for a moment. his chest tightened at the sight of you, and the knot in his stomach had turned into butterflies. he was more nervous than he was at any press conference he had ever been to because if he didn’t do well, he would have lost everything for good.

“please sit,” you said after finding your voice. you shut your laptop, taking it off the table and putting it back into your bag to focus your attention on him. “what are you doing here? i thought you were still in kingston.” small talk was never your specialty. especially since you had so much you wanted to tell him with nowhere to start.

“i flew out about 36 hours ago. i needed to see you.” tom cut right to the chase. he may have been sleep deprived, being too nervous on the plane and during his layovers to even sleep, but he was thinking clearly when it came to fixing your relationship with him. he needed you back, that was the goal, that was why he flew out in the first place. “yeah, i couldn’t get a direct flight, so i had a layover in toronto. it was cool and all, but all i could think about was seeing you.” tom kept rambling, and as much as you wanted to stop him and get angry with him, you just let him talk. you needed to hear him out. you needed to know if the past month and a half had been hell for him like it was for you.

“i’m the biggest idiot that could have ever walked the planet, y/n. i shouldn't have broken up with you. i’m really sorry.” he reached out to grab your hands, cupping them in his. his touch was gentle, but so, so warm against your hands. his touch was intoxicating. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t want him, but even after he hurt you, tom was all you wanted. “i need to make things right. i need you back in my life, i need us to get back together. i want you, i’ve only wanted you.” i’ve only wanted you. his words were stitching your heart back together, but you couldn’t forget that he had left you.

“i was scared, so i broke up with you. that is the most idiotic thing i’ve ever done. i didn’t want the distance to hurt us so i needed to break up with you before the distance could break us up, but i’ll give you anything, no, i’ll give you everything if it means we can try again.” tom didn’t care about the people around your table, he just cared about you. he cared about getting you back. the two of you sat in silence, drowning out the noise of the other patrons in the shop. the bustle of the city was suddenly gone as you focused on him.

“do you mean it?” those words were the only thing you could muster out. your mind was all over the place. you looked behind him, at the people walking around the shop, grabbing their drinks and leaving, talking to their friends. your eyes focused back on tom. you focused on how he looked so desperate for you, how he was silently fighting for you as the two of you sat in silence.

“of course i do. i love you y/n.” those latter four words cut the silence like a knife. those four words were the last thing you thought you were going to hear from him, but here he was, saying everything you wanted him to and meaning it. he meant every single word he was saying to you, that much was evident.

“i love you too.”

•••

about a month later, you were scrolling on twitter only to see an article about you and tom getting back together. though the two of you never confirmed it explicitly, it was quite obvious with how much the two of you were spotted together. a few days after he flew out to reconcile with you, you had flown back home to london with him. countless dates were spent before tom had to go to ohio to film his newest project. you were meant to fly out later, needing to finish a few meetings in london about your next album.

you scrolled through your instagram to see a photo of you and tom that he had posted. it was a photo that harrison had taken of the two of you dancing around in the backyard as it was pouring rain. neither of you knew he had taken photos of you until after. the captured moment became both your lockscreen and tom’s lockscreen, and now it was out there for the whole world to see. he had tagged you in it and captioned it what a time for you and i, clearly referring to your song. a smile appeared on your face. you were quick to comment on his picture. when he says “you can stand under my umbrella” but he doesn’t have an umbrella :// if he was going to have fun with this, then so were you.

as your phone blew up, you got a text from tom saying he was taking a break from filming and that he would call you soon. what a time for you and him indeed.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines

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fleetingpieces · 4 years

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Finding you

This was supposed to be a short drabble with some angst and lots of fluff, but ended up being a long one shot with lots of angst. Oops.

Trigger warning: violence, slurs and abuse. Please look after yourself :) Fuck.

Remus froze by the door, the keys still dangling in his hand. The sight in front of him was one that never promised anything good; the smell of smoke and beer was strong, making the air in the room feel heavy and loaded. He could already feel the cold sweat at the back of his neck. He considered opening the door again and just leaving the house, but then one of the men sitting in the living room glanced up, and his eyes landed right on Remus, smirking, making Remus’ muscles lock in disgust.

Remus knew the two men all too well. He knew their names, but never thought of them if he could avoid it; they brought too many bad memories. The dark-haired one -who was still looking at Remus- was the worst; the one with dirty blond curls was just a stupid pawn. Both of them were sprawled on the couch, talking loudly as if they were in their own house, their dirty boots propped on the coffee table that Remus had cleaned that very morning.

Their visits were becoming more and more frequent, and Remus didn’t miss how they always coincided with Lyall’s worst episodes. He was pretty sure they actually encouraged them for their own amusement.

His sorry excuse of a father followed his friend’s gaze then, finally noticing Remus still standing by the front door. Remus gulped as Lyall’s bleary eyes became darker.

“Where the fuck were you?”

“At work.” He tried to come out strong, but the sound of the keys clinking in his trembling hand betrayed his attempt.

Lyall stood up and took a couple of wobbly steps closer to Remus, bracing a hand on the shelf on the wall to support himself. Behind him, the man with raven black hair looked Remus up and down slowly, licking his lips. Remus felt dirty being watched like that.

“I told you I was having people over. I ordered you to come back to make dinner for us,” said Lyall, glaring at him. Remus felt his blood boil.

“Well someone has to bring money to pay the bills, since you are too busy being a lazy ass drunkard.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, it was not smart of him to talk like that right now. But he was just overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking brat!” Lyall yelled, swinging his arm violently over the shelf he’d been holding, and throwing everything on top of it to the floor.

Remus watched horrified as the silver frame that had his mother’s picture fell through the air, arching as if in slow motion. It landed viciously on the hardwood floor. When he heard the loud crack it made, Remus felt his heart shattering as well.

The sound sprang him into motion for the first time since stepping into this godforsaken house. He rushed over, kneeling on the floor next to the small shards scattered all over the floor. One of them dug itself into his knee, but Remus barely even noticed it. He was looking at the frame, the glass had cracked into a million pieces, forming sharp spiderwebs that spreaded over Hope’s smiling face.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Remus yelled, holding it close to his chest with both arms, protecting it like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

He was using all of his strength to fight the tears; he would not cry in front of these men. Standing up slowly, he glared at Lyall. Remus could have sworn that he saw regret in his eyes for a moment, but it was gone the minute Remus spoke again.

“You disgust me,” he spat.

Lyall’s eyes glinted, and if Remus hadn’t been holding his mother’s picture he would have raised his arms to protect his head. As it was though, Lyall’s fist connected with his jaw, making his head snap to the side painfully. He’d punched him with the full strength of a drunken adult, which made Remus see stars dancing in his vision and stumble back, while the two guys behind them cackled loudly.

A few tears escaped Remus’ eyes then, both from the pain in his face and the even greater one in his chest. He could still remember a time when the man in front of him was actually his father. A time when they would laugh together, and Lyall would teach him to play ball. But that had all been when Hope was still in their lives. Lyall had not been the same after the accident, and in consequence, Remus had lost both of his parents the day Hope’d died.

Cold fear crept up Remus’ spine as he stared at the rage seeping out of Lyall’s eyes. He knew where this was going, how everything would turn out if he didn’t do something; and he was pretty sure that he didn’t have any more antiseptics or gauzes hidden in his room, he’d used them all the last time.

He took a careful step back.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Remus didn’t stay to give an answer, he turned around and bolted to his room. Lyall was too drunk to catch him, but Remus could hear the clumsy steps and the string of curses following behind him. As soon as he had one foot inside his bedroom, he slammed the door shut, throwing the lock on.

He took a couple of steps back, not daring to take his eyes off the door, but he still flinched when Lyall started pounding on it.

“Open the fucking door!”

His back bumped into the opposite wall, and he leaned his weight against it. He was shaking way too much to stand on his own.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What should he do? There was no way he could open that door, but Lyall was pummeling it so hard that the hinges were groaning. Remus glanced around frantically, and his eyes landed on his dresser. Pushing himself off the wall, he rushed over and shoved it in front of the door, panting with the effort.

There was a pause in the rapping, leaving behind a silence that felt heavy on Remus' shoulders. His breathing was coming in short and painful bursts; the air around him didn’t seem enough to fill his lungs. He needed to calm down, but he also needed to get the fuck out of there, he didn’t believe for a second that Lyall had simply decided to let it go.

Remus took out his phone and called the only person that was on his mind at that moment. Luckily, the line rang only two times.

“Hello?”

“Sirius..”

“Re? Hey, what’s up?”

Remus took a shaky breath in, willing his voice to be steady, but he could only manage a hoarse whisper.

“Can you come pick me up?”

“Right now? I can’t, my bike broke down yesterday, remember? I didn’t have time to get it fixed yet.”

Remus did remember. James, Sirius and Remus had gone to an old dirt road that Sirius loved to go to because it meant he could use his bike at top speed and pretend he was in a Motocross race. But Sirius had also tried to teach James how to ride it, which had clearly been a terrible mistake. James had somehow managed to crash into a tree going 20 km an hour; and even though he hadn’t been injured, the handlebar had broken. Sirius had almost cried when he saw the state of his motorbike, and Remus had been teasing both him and James since.

“James’ parents took the car too, but I could take a bus to your house,” Sirius suggested, saying it as a question, but Remus shook his head even if Sirius couldn’t see him. He knew it would be too late then.

“No, no. It’s ok. Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

His voice broke at the end, and Remus had to clamp a hand over his mouth to reign in a sob.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked immediately. The worry in his voice was evident, but Remus’ throat had closed up, he couldn’t reply. “Re? Remus, what’s going on?”

The pounding on the door started again, making Remus jump while he scrambled to hang up. He didn’t want Sirius listening to this.

“REMUS! I swear I will knock this fucking door down!”

Remus didn’t doubt that he meant it. He had to get out.

Grabbing a bag from his wardrobe, Remus hastily filled it with essentials, starting with the picture frame he was still holding against his chest. He wrapped it up in a t-shirt to protect the rest of his stuff from the broken glass, there was not time to get rid of it now.

All the while, the curses and fists against the door didn’t stop; Remus could tell that the other two men had joined in to try and get into his room. Right then, he was so fucking thankful for that old, heavy dresser.

The wood sounded like it was cracking when Remus had finally gathered everything he needed and threw the window open. Trying not to think about the distance to the ground, he swung both legs over the windowsill and jumped as quietly as he could.

Remus rolled on the floor a few times, a sharp pain shooting through his knee. He’d completely forgotten about the shard of glass that had undoubtedly buried itself deeper just now, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He had to go before they noticed he was gone. He didn’t think they would go after him, but he couldn’t take any chances.

Greeting his teeth, Remus ran down the street until he turned the corner; then he slowed down a bit until he was walking at a fast pace, mentally preparing himself for the 45 minute walk to James’ house. The fresh night air felt like a blessing against his face as he tried to calm his nerves, but Remus knew he wouldn’t feel completely safe until he was at his friend’s house.

He was about halfway there when his phone rang.

“Remus!”

“James?”

“Rem, what the hell is going on? Sirius has been walking around the house like a maniac, babbling nonsense about you acting weird, and needing our help…”

“It’s fine James, don’t worry. I’m actually on my w-” Remus tried to explain, but James kept talking at full speed.

“...and then Mum and Dad came back and Sirius just stole the car keys and ran out, yelling for me to call you and tell you that-”

“Wait, what?” Remus yelled, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Yeah, he just said he was going to get you. He looked pretty worried when he left, but he didn’t explain anything.”

“No. No no no no no.”

Remus panicked. If Sirius went to his house, where Lyall and his friends were surely mad that Remus had ran away… He shuddered to think what they would do. And Sirius absolutely lacked common sense and self preservation, he was too reckless.

“Remus? Remus please, talk to me.”

“I need to call him. He can’t go there, I need to-”

“I tried, but the prat left his phone. He just ran off as soon as my parents came in.”

Remus felt as if his world was starting to collapse. He couldn’t stand the idea of Sirius getting hurt because of him. He couldn’t stand the idea of Sirius getting hurt, period. He looked around frantically, as if he would find something that could help him in the deserted street.

“How long ago did he leave?” he asked James. He could hear the desperation in his own voice, and the confusion in James’.

“Just a few minutes, but-”

Remus hung up. He turned around and sprinted as fast as he could, back to the hell house. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he couldn’t stop to explain everything to James. The only thing on his mind was Sirius.

Images of everything that Remus had been going through at home came rushing in, but with Sirius’ face instead of his, bloody and broken. The mere mental image caused him so much pain and rage, it was unbearable.

Sirius was the most important person in his life, the thought of losing him scared the shit out of Remus. He was like the sunshine in Remus’ longest night. He’d picked up Remus’ pieces when his Mum’s death had torn him apart, and stayed by his side when Lyall started spiralling down. He always knew where to find Remus and how to bring him into the light.

Remus had never told any of his friends what was going on at home, he couldn’t stand the idea of them looking at him with pity, knowing he was a coward that couldn’t stand up for himself. Especially not Sirius. Sirius who was all courage, smiles and warm feelings.

Feelings, Remus groaned internally.

He’d been trying to get rid of his feelings for Sirius for months now, but they only seemed to be getting stronger. Remus had been terrified when he’d realized he was in love with his best friend, he’d had no idea what to do. He still didn’t. Telling his friends that he was gay would have been a good start, but after Hope had passed Remus had lost the nerve to do it. He couldn’t tell Sirius, he couldn’t risk losing him.

His lungs were burning by the time he reached his house, but the sight of the Potter’s car parked hastily with the front wheel on top of the curb gave him a boost of energy.

The front door was open, the yelling reaching Remus’ ears and sending another pang of fear through him.

“Where’s Remus?!”

As Remus stepped in, what he saw inside froze him in place for a moment, just like a mere hour earlier. But the sight in front of him right now was scarier in a very different way.

The man with the dirty blond hair was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. The other man was just standing there, cracking his knuckles and laughing perversely at the two men standing in the middle of the room. Lyall seemed to be out of it, a beer bottle clutched in his hand and his eyes full of hate.

And Sirius.

Sirius was shorter than Lyall, but he was standing just a few inches from him nonetheless, yelling in his face. His hair was in a messy bun, strands falling in his face, and Remus gasped when he saw the split lip, blood trickling down Sirius’ chin. Even in this shitty situation and with everything going on around him, Remus thought that he was beautiful.

Then he cursed himself, focusing again.

“Sirius!”

The three men went quiet as they turned around, the tension in the room shifting on its edge to land on Remus, almost crushing him. He could feel their gazes and everything they carried, the hate, the anger, the lasciviousness. Remus blocked all of those, focusing solely on Sirius, making sure he was ok.

Remus was not ready for Sirius’ reaction when the boy took a good look at him though. Remus could only imagine what he looked like: sweaty, with blood on his jeans and maybe a swollen face. He watched as Sirius’ scowl got deeper and he spun around, shoving Lyall hard.

“What the fuck did you do to him?!”

Lyall staggered back but managed to stay up.

“It has nothing to do with you!”

Remus, who was already used to it, saw it coming before Sirius did. As Lyall threw his arm back, Remus’ feet moved on their own, and before he realized it he was standing between the two of them, looking right at Lyall’s surprised eyes as his fist connected with the side of Remus’ head.

The force of the impact threw him back, making him fall into Sirius’ arms. The warmth of the other boy’s hands against his sides seeped through his clothes, warming him up to the very core, and Remus glanced up. There was so much concern in Sirius’ eyes that it disarmed him; he was lost in the stormy grey, forgetting about everything else for a second. Remus desperately wanted to place a hand on Sirius’ cheek to reassure him, or maybe kiss his lip better…

“I know what you are!” Lyall’s screaming brought Remus back to the cold, hard reality. “You try to hide it, but everyone knows you’re a damned faggot! It’s your own fault if you got hit, protecting your nancy boyfriend like that!”

Remus paled, his thoughts turning cold as he felt Sirius’ whole body tense up behind him.

No. Please, no. Not now.

“He’s not my boyfriend, leave him out of this,” Remus said, trying to sound calm, but his voice was shaking. What was Sirius thinking? Remus didn’t have the courage to turn around and see, so he stepped out of his grasp instead.

The dark-haired man started laughing loudly then. Remus had almost forgotten he was even there, but his head snapped to him when he felt an icy hand close around his wrist, tugging him forward harshly.

“So it’s true? I’ve been wondering for a while, you know; thought I could teach you a thing or two,” Rick said, lust filling his voice. No, no, don’t think about his name. It doesn’t matter, he’s inconsequential, Remus tried telling himself.

The man pulled him closer, pressing his body against Remus’ back, inhaling the scent from his hair. One of the hands was still holding his wrist with bruising strength, but when the other slipped under his t-shirt, Remus felt paralyzed.

“What are you doing?” Lyall asked. He looked slightly less drunk now, but was stunned in place, his eyes wide. Remus looked up at him pleadingly.

“Nothing, we are just having some fun, right boy?” the man said in a mocking tone.

Lyall didn’t move and Remus wanted to scream at him to do something. Hell, he was screaming at his own body to do something, but the connection between his brain and his extremities was numb, like the rest of him.

“Let go of him,” a quiet voice said. Remus fixed his eyes on the source of it, and was met with pure, concentrated rage. He’d never seen such fury in Sirius’ eyes, and even the dark-haired man took a step back.

“You’ll stay out of it if you know what’s good for you, kid. Unless you want to take his place?”

The words hung in the air as they made their way into Remus’ brain, and once they sunk in, everything in Remus’ vision turned red. He was not going to let that asshole touch so much as a hair on Sirius's head. He brought his elbow up, digging it deep into the man’s stomach, who doubled over. Sirius rushed forward then and pushed the man with his shoulder, making him stumble backwards and crash into the small table.

Not wasting any time, Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand and tugged him gently but hurriedly to the door, making a quick exit before the man could recover. He only stopped for a second next to the still stunned form of Lyall, looking at him with revulsion.

“Hope would be ashamed of you,” he spat with a venomous glare. As Sirius dragged him outside, Remus looked back and was pretty sure he could see Lyall’s face crumble before he covered it with his hands.

Sirius didn’t stop until they were next to the car. He opened the passenger door for Remus and carefully helped him climb in, even buckling the seatbelt for him. Remus let his friend handle him; he felt like his mind was miles away, the events of the night had not settled in yet, but they were approaching him like an oncoming train.

They rode in silence. Sirius was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he kept stealing glances at Remus, but none of them said a word.

James, who'd been pacing by the front door, rushed down the steps when he saw them approaching through the long driveway to the estate. They weren't even completely out of the car before James threw his arms around Remus' neck.

"Oh god, oh thank fucking god. Are you guys ok?"

He examined Remus' appearance, scowling at what he saw. When Sirius joined them near the entrance, Remus tried his best not to look him in the eye, which made James glance between the two of them, confused.

"My mum is going crazy. She's going to bombard you with questions as soon as you step in," he said, trying to get a grasp on the situation himself.

Remus shook his head quickly.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it. Not right now," he whispered.

James was about to argue, but a look from Sirius shut him up, so he nodded instead.

"Ok. Ok, I'll go talk to them," he said, and without any warning, he lunged forward again, hugging Remus tightly. "I'm so glad you're ok. You scared the living daylights out of me."

It took Remus two seconds to figure out how to move his body again so he could hug James back just as tight. What had he done to deserve friends like this?

James squeezed him one last time before turning around and going into the house, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. Silence fell, broken only by the chirping of the crickets in the big garden that surrounded the house from all sides, and the faint sound of the sea a few miles away.

When Sirius extended a hand towards him, Remus couldn't help but flinch back. He felt bad instantly as he finally looked up at Sirius, surprised by his own reaction, and saw how Sirius stopped his hand mid-air with a pained expression on his face.

Remus wanted to explain, but what could he say? That even though his brain felt muddled, he couldn’t stop thinking about every time Lyall and his friends had beaten him up?

He didn’t need to say anything though, ‘cause Sirius’ face softened like he understood exactly what Remus was thinking. Not taking his eyes away from Remus’, Sirius extended his hand again, deliberately slow, and held it between them as an offering. He was giving Remus a choice. He didn’t move a muscle until Remus tentatively laced their fingers together, and then Sirius smiled softly, tugging at his hand gently to lead him inside.

Sirius led him up to the first floor, ignoring the hushed voices coming from the kitchen, which Remus was grateful for. He didn’t have the strength to face Mrs and Mr Potter right now.

He didn’t realize Sirius was not taking him to the guest room until he dragged Remus into his own bedroom, closing the door behind them.

As Sirius finally let go of his hand to drop Remus’ bag on the bed, and Remus realized that he was actually there, that he was safe, the numbness in his body receded and the weight of everything crashed into him, as if the train had finally run him over. The events of the night, the months of abuse, the fact that Sirius of all people had seen it, that Sirius knew. Oh God, Sirius knew the truth, he knew everything!

It was impossible for Remus to keep himself together any longer.

He slumped on the floor with his back against the bed, hugging his legs. When it became obvious that he would not be able to reign in the tears, he buried his face in his knees, as the sobs quietly shook him. He was sure Sirius would hate him now, and there was no way that Remus could recover from that.

Just a little longer, he thought, for only a few minutes more he wanted to pretend like none of this had happened and that he could have his friends for a bit more. That he could survive this. He hugged himself tighter, trying to keep his pieces together.

“Remus.”

Remus tensed up, but didn’t move. Not yet, please, not yet. I’m not ready.

Warm hands rested lightly on his wrists, kindly prying his arms apart to undo his curled up position.

“Re, look at me,” Sirius whispered.

Reluctantly, Remus slowly raised his head.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked in a quiet but steely voice. Remus wasn’t sure anymore if the anger was directed at him or not, he had never seen Sirius like this. He turned his head to the side, letting his gaze fall on the floor.

“A while,” he replied quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius almost yelled, and the pain in his voice startled Remus into looking at him again.

“I..I didn’t want you to pity me. I didn’t want you to see that side of me,” he said with furrowed eyebrows.

“Remus I’m your best friend! I would have helped you!”

“And what could you have done, Sirius? I have nowhere to go!” Remus replied in the same heated tone. Anxiety gripped him again as he understood that he eventually would have to go back there, to that nightmare. Standing up, he started pacing up and down the room, the movement keeping him sane and functioning. “He’s gonna kill me when I go back,” Remus muttered more to himself than anything else.

“You are not going back there,” Sirius said in a hard voice, standing up as well. Remus stopped his pacing to huff a humorless laugh, staring at his feet.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Sirius. At some point, I’m gonna have to-”

“No. I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think you have to do. You are not going back to that house. And if you think Effie or any of us will let you anywhere near that man, then you are sorely mistaken. You’ll be staying here with us.”

Remus knew Mrs Potter cared for him and treated him just like she did Sirius, but there was no way he could impose on her like that. He didn’t feel like arguing about that now though, so he just stayed quiet. Both of them stood there, breathing heavily, Sirius with clenched fists and not taking his eyes off of him, while Remus wrung his hands nervously, still gazing at his feet.

It was a few long minutes before Sirius broke the silence again.

“Is it true?”

Remus knew instantly what Sirius was talking about, but he thought if he pretended not to hear, perhaps Sirius would drop it. He bit his lip, completely missing the way Sirius looked down at his mouth before going back up.

“What that prick said...is it true?” Sirius pressed.

When he didn’t answer again, the sound of steps filled the room before long fingers slipped under Remus’ chin with a care that he had never received before, lifting his head up until gold eyes were locked with silver ones.

Sirius searched his eyes, looking into his very soul, waiting for Remus to say something. Remus knew there was no point avoiding it, Sirius knew him far too well, and it was nearly impossible for Remus to deny him anything when he was staring at him with such an expectant look. He was so stupid when it came to Sirius.

“Yes,” Remus finally replied in a tiny whisper. Sirius’ fingers tensed the slightest bit, which threw Remus into a fit of nervous verbiage. Swallowing over the lump in his throat, he kept talking fast, “I understand if you feel uncomfortable or d-disgusted with me. Take your time, I...I just-”

“Remus, just shut up,” the tenderness in Sirius’ voice contrasted so much with his harsh words, that it left Remus feeling confused. With the rough fingertips still burning under his chin, Remus tilted his head to the side, trying to understand, but he couldn’t figure out the emotion swimming behind the molten silver of Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius hesitated, but then his hand slowly brushed Remus’ face, going up his jaw, until it was cupping his cheek.

“For a smart guy, you can be pretty clueless, you know?” Sirius said with a half smile.

“I...I’m not sure I follow,” Remus said with slightly wide eyes.

Sirius laughed quietly, shaking his head with fondness. He bent down to press their foreheads together, and Remus felt his breath hitch in his throat.

“How could I ever feel disgusted by you? Are you really that blind?”

Remus pulled away an inch with raised eyebrows. He was a bit dense regarding people’s feelings towards him, he knew that much as he always assumed the worst, but the way Sirius was acting...

“You...Are you saying that..?” Remus left the question unfinished; he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Sirius was giving him a small, shy smile. Sirius Black, shy. Remus thought for sure that he must have been imagining things.

Brushing one of Remus’ curls behind his ear, Sirius struggled for a bit to find the words.

“Re, for the longest time I’ve been holding back. I...I wanted to tell you how I felt, but you were going through so much with your Mum, I just felt like I would be taking advantage when you weren’t doing so great. I didn’t want to add any more pressure into your life, I wanted to wait for the perfect time.”

He laughed bitterly.

“I know I’m not doing much better right now, but I just...I can’t let you sit there thinking that I would hate you for this Re, I...I fucking love you.”

Remus was speechless. All this time, he’d thought he was just a fool for falling for Sirius, for allowing himself to be so close to him when it hurt knowing he could never have him. Remus glanced down when he felt cool fingers lacing themselves with his, and then up to the boy in front of him.

There was so much love pouring out of Sirius that Remus thought he must have definitely been blind not to notice before.

Sirius stared into his eyes, silently asking a question. Remus nodded minutely, and not even a second later he felt soft lips brushing against his, slow and deep.

Remus' hands tangled into soft black locks, shivering at the idea that he was finally allowed to do it after spending so long wishing for it. Sirius’ own set to explore Remus’ body with a hunger that spoke volumes of Sirius’ restraint, caressing Remus back before settling on his hips.

When they broke apart, their breathing agitated, Remus hid his face in the crook of Sirius’ neck, dizzy with the feelings rushing through his body.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he mumbled against Sirius’ skin, eliciting a shiver from the other boy.

Sirius smiled softly, dropping kisses to Remus’ hair and temple. He slid his hands to the small of his back, bringing Remus closer to his chest.

“I will always find you, Moons.”

#wolfstar #oneshot #writing #muggle au #Remus Lupin #siriusxremus #sirius black #marauders #fanfic

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.

My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough.

“oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.”

A flying toenail hit my eye.

“WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.

“Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

“oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!”

“IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back.

I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle.

“All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

“You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.”

“Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.”

I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.”

“Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?”

This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did.

After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t.

And he didn’t.

And therein lay the problem.

It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

“Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.”

“Ew, he smells like meat.”

“RENNY!!”

“I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

“He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.”

She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window.

“Hey Renny?”

“Hm.”

A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?”

“Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.”

“Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.

“Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?”

Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first.

“I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.”

“Oh.”

“It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

“The divorce or your virginity.”

“Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis.

“I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more.

Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?”

Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him.

“Maybeeee…?”

But then there was last night.

I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves?

“No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.”

Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.”

“Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this.

Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly.

But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him?

You were right, Harry. You are fucked.

I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh.

I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

Renny was right.

I needed therapy.

The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

“Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?”

DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please.

I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

“NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

“Fine. I can keep a secret.”

I was getting a little too good at that lately.

She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious.

“Yeah, more than you know.”

And I was serious, too.

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

I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs.

Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery. .

“Woah did you hear that?”

Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.”

It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next.

A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did.

“It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts.

“How’d you know that?”

She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance.

I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick.

Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away.

My hand wavered.

Odd.

Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors.

I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over.

“Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”

Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster.

“I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.”

Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too.

“Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed.

We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from.

“Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment.

My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?”

“Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-”

“My God,” David proclaimed.

Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.”

“Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass.

Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

“Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased.

He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.”

We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left.

“Look closer.”

My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang.

“Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin.

The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot.

“Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

“Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.”

“How so?”

“Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.”

He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside.

He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles.

“They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said.

A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.”

“Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.”

“Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him.

I felt him come closer.

“Listen now,” he urged.

I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder.

“Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.”

I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed.

“Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?”

I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous.

“What do you hear?” he urged.

“I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped.

But right when I was about to open my eyes-

I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter.

“Birds?” I opened my eyes.

“Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself.

“Why are there birds?”

“We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half.

My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.”

“All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes.

“Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.”

“What do you mean?”

She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow.

I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second.

I was naked.

In all of them.

One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.

Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet.

The wine had dropped.

I’d dropped it.

I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb.

“Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked.

I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.

He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees.

Because that’s what it was.

An exposure.

A stranger could pay to have me in their home.

The floor spun, vision spotting.

My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly.

“I didn’t want this.”

And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home.

part 22

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part four Word count: ±2800 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part four summary: After Dean takes a girl home, Sam goes to look for the huntress who is keeping the brothers’ belongings hostage. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Music: Shine On You Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

The nights are mild this November. The moon is almost full and stands high in the dark blue sky. This time it’s not the sun which shines a light on the hundreds of tombstones, neither does the cemetery have a peaceful feel like it did this morning. Trees create long shadows, so black that one would be afraid to walk through its darkness. At this hour the statues of angels and other Biblical figures don’t seem sacred, the figures looming over those who dare to disturb the dead.

Anyone who would walk around the stretched out lands of Linwood Cemetery, would be rather sure the place is deserted. Nevertheless, someone is present. Not a grieving widow or a relative who got left behind, but a person who is, quite literally, digging up some dirt. In a steady rhythm, scoops of soil fly through the air and land on a pile next to a hole in the ground. Down in the grave, Zoë is working like a miner. Even though it’s night, all she’s wearing is a thin Lakers basketball shirt, sweat shimmering on her body as her muscles move under her skin.

For a moment she pauses; she reckons she’s almost there. Out of breath, she listens to her surroundings and scans the area like a periscope of a submarine, popping her head just above ground level. Not a sound, nothing to see, yet she senses something. She can’t really put a finger on it, but glances at the loaded shotgun next to her in the grave nonetheless. She picks up the shovel instead, continuing to dig. Her senses grow stronger and the huntress freezes, picking up the smallest sound. Making a split second decision, Zoë goes for her shotgun, aims on pure gut instinct and fires. The slug demolishes half a gravestone and barely misses the person hiding behind it. “Jesus Christ!” a startled voice cries out. “Friends call me Zoë,” she responds, skillfully discharging the empty shell and reloading her rifle.

She stays low to the ground and focuses on the tombstone from the hole, prepared for a possible counter attack, but nothing comes. “Show yourself,” she commands. A tall figure rises from behind the tombstone, his hands up. “It’s me,” he says. The man steps into the moonlight and Zoë instantly recognizes him. “Sam...” She scoffs, actually not that surprised to see him. “Seriously man, there will come a day that I will kill one of you fucking Winchesters if you keep sneaking up on me like this.”

“How the hell did you even notice me?” Sam questions, disappointed with his own ambushing skills. “Are you kidding me? I can smell you from a mile away after your dive in that septic tank,” she nags. Sam stares at her for a moment and smells himself. “I showered!” he exclaims. Zoë smirks; she can’t believe he actually fell for that. Sam also realizes she is deliberately messing with him and shoots her a deadly glare. “What if I was the night guard?” he tests. “If the night guard enters, I’ll notice it the minute he sets foot in the cemetery.” Zoë puts away her shotgun and picks up the shovel again. Before she continues digging, she looks back up. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?” Sam approaches the grave. “Looking for you.” “Well, you found me. Now get lost,” the huntress scoffs. “I’m not going anywhere without our stuff, Zo,” Sam states. She stops what she was doing, leaning on the handle of the shovel. “Sure. Just a sec. I’ll just pull your laptop case out of my back pocket and I think I stuffed the two duffel bags in my bra,” she responds, smartly. He glares at her. “Ha-ha.” Zoë continues shoveling dirt, while Sam halts on the edge of the hole in the ground. It’s not the first open grave he has seen, but that’s not what he’s looking at. Zoë has captured his attention, and Sam can’t stop watching. The fabric of her shirt is drenched in sweat, a darker tone between her shoulder blades and down her chest. The moonlight distinguishes hardened arms and shoulders. She might be a lean built woman of no more than 5’8, yet clearly she is well trained. Even though Zoë has been working the soil for some time now, there is no sign of fatigue and every scoop is powerful. Just like that moment in Rochester, yesterday morning, she captivates him in such a way that it seems impossible to keep his eyes off her. When she walked by naked to turn up the radio she meant to get his attention, but apparently this time she feels uncomfortable.

“What do you think this is? BustyAsianBeauties.com?” she remarks, glancing up at the hunter annoyed. “Excuse me?” Sam returns, puzzled. “Don’t get all innocent with me, perv. I happened to stumble on some browser internet history on your laptop, which is full of viruses because of that shit by the way,” she notifies. Sam stares at her staggered, then the light bulb switches on. Rolling his eyes skyward, he huffs. “Dean.” Zoë shrugs, continuing her job at hand. “I don’t really care which of you two can’t get laid enough. Your harddrive was a fucking mess.” “You’ve been on my computer?” It’s not so much a question. The tall Winchester eyes her from under his brown bangs, clearly not happy with her snooping around through his stuff. Zoë has the feeling that this would be a good time to lie, but just to rile him up a bit more, she doesn’t. “I did, actually,” she comments. “Got a problem with that, college boy?” Sam averts his gaze and grinds his teeth, which draws a reaction from Zoë. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t fuck up your computer with a dozen porn sites, videos, pi--” “- I’m gonna kill him,” Sam growls. “Oh, don’t wanna miss that.” Zoë turns up the speed, now that she has some extra motivation to hurry up.

The youngest of the Winchester brothers glances down at her again. “So, this is your case?” “I’m not digging up dead people for fun,” she retorts, without pausing. “What’s the story?” Zoë peers at him for a moment, but doesn’t stop with what she’s doing. Not seeing any harm in it, she gives him a brief summary. “Young girl got beat up by her father. One strike killed her.” “Let me guess, what goes around comes around for the dad?” Sam assumes. “Yep. Died yesterday,” she confirms.

Whoa, she’s quick, Sam realizes. It’s not often that he has run a case that fast. “How did you figure it all out in that short period of time?” Sam asks, genuinely interested. “You guys have your methods to pick out cases. I have mine,” Zoë responds curtly. The younger Winchester brother knows better than to continue the interrogation. A silence follows and Sam glances over at the gravestone.

Laura Emily Shire Beloved daughter and sister 01.22.1995 – 09.21.2005 Rest in Peace

“Apparently not,” Sam comments on the last sentence, before he redirects his attention to the huntress. “Need help?” “Do I look like I need help?” she counters. He shakes his head and goes quiet, not daring to contradict her. He should have known Zoë wouldn’t accept a helping hand. So he watches, awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. Not for long, though, because three swings later, Zoë hits the coffin.

The sudden difference in sound when the steel shovel collides with the wood draws Sam’s attention. He glances over the edge as Zoë wipes the dirt away. A hardwood beech coffin is exposed once again. Zoë busts the hinges with her shovel and opens the coffin, after which she quickly backs out. It’s one thing to burn just bones, but this little girl is still in the process of decomposition. “Argh… man, that’s bad.” Zoë covers her mouth and nose with her hand and turns at Sam, who hands over her backpack.

Trying not to inhale as she takes out a bag of salt and a small jerry can filled with gasoline, she continues to cover the remains with both. She climbs out of the grave and takes a matchbox out of her pocket. With a smooth strike, Zoë lights a couple of matches and drops them down the hole. Almost immediately the fire spreads out and shines an orange light on their faces as the heat reaches for them. The body burns for a while and when the fire almost dies out, she shovels the dirt back in the hole. Sam wants to help, but she only brought one shovel, so there’s not much he can do.

“How did you find me by the way?” Zoë wonders, as they saunter back to the main gates of Linwood Cemetery twenty minutes later. “I drove by and saw your Harley in the parking lot of the Hampton, asked for you at the desk. They called up to your room, but you didn’t answer. Since your bike was still there, I just figured you were at the cemetery across the street,” he explains. “I could have been having a bite and a drink somewhere,” she suggests. “Could have, yeah,” Sam admits, a small smile on his lips. “Lucky guess, huh?” Zoë grins as they amble through the gate. “More like a coincidence,” he expresses. “Let me tell you one thing, Sam.” Zoë looks over her shoulder, an all knowing grin on her lips. “There’s no such thing as coincidence.”

They halt in front of the Hampton Inn as Zoë shakes off the cold and shrugs on her jacket. Grave digging can be quite intense, but now that she’s not busting her ass, she’s freezing. Before the huntress moves inside, she throws her backpack over her shoulder and turns around at Sam. “What are you doing tonight?” “Not much, actually. Dean has a girl over at the motel,” he sighs. “Ah, I was wondering where the fucker was. Another one, huh? Not a shifter this time?” The huntress winks, remembering the joke she pulled on him. Sam laughs too. “Not this time.” “You didn’t tell him that we don’t know what sex that thing was, right?” Zoë checks. “Nope.” Sam’s eyes sparkle for a moment, in the same way Dean’s eyes do so often. It’s probably a Winchester thing. “I bet he has nightmares about it,” Zoë grins, enjoying the idea, but then turns to Sam as her amused facial expression changes into something more serious. “You have any last night?”

Sam looks her in the eye and the sparkle disappears. He forgot about the fact that he opened up to the huntress about the strange dreams he’s been having and for a second he feels uncomfortable. He’s happy to shake his head. “No, I slept quite well, actually. First time in three weeks,” he returns. “Well, I didn’t.” She yawns and quickly covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m gonna catch some sleep. Night, Sam.”

Zoë intends to stroll inside and leave the hunter at the entrance, but he clears his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Sleepy and confused, Zoë halts and looks at the younger Winchester. “You’re not getting a kiss, if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Sam eyes her. “Our stuff.” “Oh right,” she remembers, entering the Hampton Inn, Sam in tow.

They take the elevator up to the second floor, where the huntress turns left, expecting Sam to follow. The younger Winchester seems impressed with the luxury of the hotel; he’s used to hunters settling for a much cheaper accommodation. As she slips her keycard through the lock, she yawns again.

“That bad, huh?” Sam chuckles. “I haven't had much sleep lately. Too many cases,” she replies and walks directly to the bathroom. “Let me freshen up, one sec.”

One sec turns out to be five minutes, because after that amount of time she walks out of the bathroom, fresh and showered. She’s wearing a Nirvana shirt and pajama shorts, not even bothered to put on a bra, even though she has company. She’s going to turn in for bed soon anyway, the aftermath of her high this morning seriously kicking in. She carelessly beckons at Sam, pointing at the other end of the room. “You can find your shit in the closet.”

Sam crosses the space and opens the double doors. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the duffel bags, but he can’t spot his laptop. “It’s on the table, still hooked up to the server,” she answers before he can ask. He walks over and notices the USB cable. “Why is it hooked up?” “Don’t get all emotional about it, but I’m copying my supernatural database to yours,” she tells him. “Since you guys are still going on what’s in that old book.” Sam’s eyebrows perk up, surprised. She actually did that, something nice without him asking? Maybe she’s not so bad as his brother would have him believe after all. “Thanks,” he expresses.

She looks aside, able to tell that his gratitude is sincere. Touching the mouse pad, she triggers the screen to light up; it’s still copying. To pass the time she opens ITunes, starts one of her favorite playlists and the first tunes of Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd come from the speakers. “Don’t mention it, but I'll tell you what.” She straightens her back and walks over to her bed. “It’s still transferring files, which might take another hour or so. If you don’t have a place to stay anyway, why don’t you hang out here? You can crash on the sofa if you want.”

Another unexpected act of kindness; she just invited him in. Not that she would want anything from him, though, or does she? For a second the Winchester wonders why she’s so interested in him all of a sudden. She’s being nice, and that’s just off. “Sure, if you don’t mind,” Sam accepts, masking his suspicion. “As long as you shut your piehole, I don’t mind. I really need to sleep,” she clears up as she crawls into bed and pulls the covers up till her nose. “Remote is on the TV if you want to watch anything, as long as it isn’t porn,” she mumbles, fitting her eye mask over her face. “Thanks, I’m good,” he assures, sitting down behind the table and glancing at the screen. He watches the bar move slowly, the percentage going up with each passing minute. “Hey Zo, is it alright if I--” But he doesn’t finish his sentence. Zoë is already far away, curled up in fetus-position, wrapped in her covers. She seems so peaceful and vulnerable, so unlike the Zoë Sullivan he got to know these past couple of days. He smiles at the endearing sight. She’s quite a peculiar woman.

It only takes a moment, though, before guilt settles on his chest and memories cloud his mind. Because every time when he thinks of Zoë, his thoughts wander off to Jessica as well. As if a voice in the back of his mind is mocking him for taking an interest in the new huntress. That it’s ‘not done’ since he’s in a relationship. But he isn’t. Jess is gone forever.

Sam swallows apprehensively and glances at his laptop again. He sees images transferring, of ghouls and werewolves, wendigos and demons. Honestly, he can’t wait to get his hands on that thing that killed his former girlfriend and his mom. Never has he felt the urge to kill something so strongly, never has he felt so much anger and hatred towards anything. Of course, he has ended the lives of creatures and burned the bones of the souls that stayed behind, but never out of hate. He did those things for opposite reasons; to save people and help spirits to move on.

The frustrating part about his attempt to find the creature that was responsible for the death of his loved ones? He has no idea where to start. Their dad has disappeared from the face of the earth and he and his brother have no leads whatsoever. They need to get back on the road, find their father and make progress fast, before that thing disappears off the radar again. Sam is going to make sure that he and Dean leave this town tomorrow first thing in the morning.

When the time comes, when they finally find their father, the next step is making the bastard pay that murdered Mom and Jess. That thought right there is what drives him, disturbing yet thrilling, but that’s what everyone is after. The death of that monster, the ultimate revenge.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part five here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester x OFC #Sam Winchester x OFC #supernatural rewrite #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #SPN #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan STSS #In Bad Waters #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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jazy3 · 4 years

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MerHayes Interview Thoughts Part 2

In another interview with Deadline, which features the most leading and inaccurately asked question I think I’ve ever seen in my life, Krista Vernoff talks about how there is hope for Meredith and DeLuca and there is hope for Meredith and Hayes. She talks again about how compelling Giacomo Giannotti has been in his role as DeLuca with regards to the mental health storyline and says that through it DeLuca has risen so much and that simultaneously the character of Hayes has been really compelling and feels very much like Meredith’s equal.

I’m not sure I buy the part about DeLuca rising as a character, but her comments were mostly about complimenting the actor on a great performance so I get that. I love how she talked about Hayes and how in such a short time the actor, Richard Flood, has brought the character to life in such a compelling and interesting way. One of my favourite things about Hayes as a character is that he and Meredith are equals and that he stands on his own and isn’t intimated by others being better than him.

Then we have Krista’s most recent interview with TV Line, if you can even call it that as the whole thing is barely 300 words and is largely a rehashing of previously reported content. In it she reiterates again that she’s at the point with the story where she doesn’t know who she’s rooting for because she’s not sure if she thinks that DeLuca is rising to a level of life experience or dark and twistiness to make him a mature partner for Meredith or if all that Hayes has already been through in his life makes him Meredith’s equal.

This is very telling because while it’s clear that she’s still holding a torch for Meredith and DeLuca and clearly likes both characters, she acknowledges that everything they’ve tried to do to improve DeLuca’s character and bring him up to Meredith’s level hasn’t worked. Whereas Hayes, who’s only been on the show for a short time, has already proven himself to be someone who is on Meredith’s level personally and professionally with life experience and a background that is similar to her own in so many ways.

On top of that Meredith’s Twisted Sister and best friend Cristina set them up and all of Meredith’s close friends and family that have met Hayes like and respect him. Amelia and Jo are actively rooting for them. All this to say that these interviews, while confusing and poorly worded on all sides, give me hope. As we saw on screen this season Hayes has risen as someone who is very much Meredith’s equal and is the kind of mature stable partner and love interest that she deserves after all that she has been through.

What the season finale and these interviews indicate to me is that while Krista is still holding a torch for Meredith and DeLuca as the one who originally put them together, she can now admit that they don’t work. They had two seasons to make the relationship work and they couldn’t. They wrote a whole storyline with the goal of improving DeLuca’s character and making him a better love interest and it failed spectacularly.

The other thing that gives me hope is that in these interviews Krista talks about following where the chemistry of the actors leads and going where the actors’ performances lead instead of following a predetermined path. It appears that the showrunners and writers have learned their lesson from Season 15 in which they did the opposite. This gives me hope because not only does it make for better storytelling, but it also sets out a pretty clear path for where these storylines will end up if they follow them through to their logical conclusion.

At the end of the Season 16 finale we saw Meredith agree to a date with Hayes and saw them make plans to go out at some point in the future. Following that Meredith stumbled across DeLuca sitting on the floor crying and confused as to what was going on. He seemed to finally accept that something was wrong. Meredith helped him up and then half carried him out of the hallway while talking about getting his things and taking him home. It’s implied that she either took him home to get some much needed rest before going home herself or that she had him admitted for treatment.

In her Hollywood Reporter interview Krista talks about how in order for DeLuca to ever be on Meredith’s level he’d first have to get the right kind of treatment for his illness. So, based on those two things it looks like DeLuca is finally going to get the treatment he needs next season. This gives me hope because of the set up they’ve given us for Meredith and Hayes and the comments Krista has made about Hayes in interviews.

If they had given us any indication that Meredith would be putting her love life or any other part of her life on hold until DeLuca got better and was out of the woods either out of guilt or some other reason I could maybe see a scenario in which the showrunners and writers might put them back together. But that’s not what they gave us at all. Instead in the first half of the season we saw DeLuca break up with Meredith over his own insecurities because he couldn’t handle the fact that she was better than him and was jealous of her relationship with her dead husband.

And Meredith wasn’t even that upset about it. As she later told Bailey, DeLuca and her broke up following her trial and instead of experiencing drama and heartbreak she was just mildly annoyed and excited to be able to practice medicine again. Following the break up Meredith threw some major shade at DeLuca for being such an idiot and moved on with her life.

It seemed for a while that DeLuca was going to apologize for his actions and try to make amends, but he never followed through. Several episodes later the two briefly got back together when Meredith decided to sleep with him, but then they broke up again the following episode when she expressed legitimate concern over his volatile behaviour and that was it.

They haven’t had a romantic scene since, have barely spoken, and their only interactions have been about a difficult case at work or about his escalating behaviour and the fact that he needs treatment. The outcome of Meredith’s trial and the fact that DeLuca chose to act the way that he did resulted in Meredith moving on with her life. All of these things combined led Meredith to form a relationship with Hayes which as of the finale has officially gone from a friendship with romantic undertones to a full on romance.

One of the things I love about the way they chose to do that is that DeLuca has absolutely no idea that Meredith’s moved on because he’s been too caught up in his own crap to notice. They could have made it a love triangle and had DeLuca find out and be jealous, but instead they chose to separate those storylines to the point that DeLuca has absolutely no idea what’s going on in Meredith’s life outside of work.

This season was supposed to have four more episodes that we never got to see because the season was cut short due to the pandemic. From interviews and tweets that I’ve read it looks like they’re going to be dealing with this by taking the content from the last four episodes they never got to film and reworking it into the Season 17 Premiere and the following three episodes. This means there won’t be a time jump and things will pick up right where they left off.

This means that based on the information we have when the new season begins we’ll see DeLuca enter treatment and Meredith and Hayes will go out on a date and have that drink. If they’re going to be realistic about DeLuca’s treatment, and I think they should be, were looking at a several month process here. Because based on what we’ve already seen he’s going to need months of intensive therapy and medication in order for him to feel better and manage his condition.

This likely means that Meredith and Hayes are going to go out on a date within the first few episodes of Season 17 and start dating. Which means that Meredith and Hayes will have been in a relationship for several months by the time DeLuca is even starting to feel better. At that point I feel like the only thing left to do will be to resolve that storyline and wrap things up so that both Meredith and DeLuca can move on with their lives. Because that’s the only thing that makes sense based on what they’ve shown us on screen, the way the characters have behaved, and what Krista has said in interviews.

The comments she made to TV Line in particular make me happy because they seem to imply that she’s looking for a way to resolve DeLuca’s current storyline more than she is to continue it. It’s evident that she’s still carrying a torch for those characters, but she can now admit that they don’t work and that’s a good thing. Because honestly, what is that storyline even? They have Meredith and Hayes date and then several months later they have her break up with this great guy that she has a ton in common with, that Cristina set her up with, and that her friends and family like for what DeLuca? A guy that just got out of treatment and who has absolutely nothing to offer her at this point?

That doesn’t make any sense at all and in order for them to do that they’d have to destroy Meredith’s character and rewrite DeLuca’s character (again) and for what? There’s no endgame here. They’ve already established that DeLuca doesn’t want to be a Dad; doesn’t get along with Meredith’s friends or family; and that he’s so jealous of Derek, a dead man, that the very mention of him results in DeLuca making insulting and inappropriate comments or throwing a hissy fit.

In order for Meredith and DeLuca to work as a couple they would have to give DeLuca a complete personality transplant and even then, they still wouldn’t have chemistry or be at the same place in their lives so I’m not sure what the point would be. DeLuca would have to change his stance on parenting, mend fences with all of the important people in Meredith’s life, and get over his jealously of Derek. And that’s in addition to undergoing months of intensive treatment, finding the right medication, and oh yeah let’s not forget pick a speciality! Which he still hasn’t done despite the fact that he’s in his fifth year of residency and is set to do his fellowship next season.

I also don’t understand from a creative perspective why the showrunners or writers would want to do that. Why they would want to spend any more of their time trying to make DeLuca work as a character or make his relationship with Meredith work when it just doesn’t. A large part of that, according to interviews, is the actor’s performance which means unless they are going to over direct him to death, which has never been Grey’s style, nothing they try is ever going to work on screen.

At a certain point I think you need to cut your losses. If you’ve spent two seasons trying to give a character a bigger role because you like the actor and it’s not working, it’s time to move on. Especially when the entire storyline you wrote to improve and develop the character more did literally the exact opposite of what you intended due to their performance. Based on what we saw this past season here’s what I’d like to see happen in Season 17. I’d like to see DeLuca get proper treatment for his mental illness and find a medication that works preferably off camera.

He seems to have picked up a flair for diagnostics this past season so it would be nice to see him apply for a fellowship with Dr. Reilly in California and have the character be written off that way. Because if he gets his happy ending then Meredith and Carina don’t have to worry about him going forward and they can both move on with their lives. I’d like to see them do this within the first half of Season 17 so that all three characters can move on.

I’d like for Meredith and Hayes to have that drink and go out on their first date within the first few episodes and start to date in earnest in the first half of the season. In the second half of the season, preferably following DeLuca’s departure or the wrapping up of his storyline in some way, I’d like to see Meredith and Hayes’ relationship develop further with Hayes working to get to know her friends and family better, not just as co-workers and friends, but as the loved ones of someone he’s dating. I’d love to see Hayes meet Meredith’s kids and for them to bond and for Meredith to bond with his boys as well. It’d be great to see them introduce their kids to each other and see them become a blended family and all of the fluff that comes along with it. Part 1: https://jazy3.tumblr.com/post/620936637802840064/merhayes-interview-thoughts-part-1

#grey's anatomy #greys anatomy #Meredith Grey #cormac hayes #cormac x meredith #meredith x cormac #I love hayes #hayes x grey #grey x hayes #merhayes #mermac #merwidow #mcwidows #meredith x mcwidow #the mcwidows #krista vernoff #tv line #the hollywood reporter

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spideymybucky · 5 years

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Liar, Liar - 1 little lie

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader, Zendaya x Tom Holland (Friends)

Warnings: Lying, bullying, being self conscious, a looser and just yeah... a bit funny??

Summery: (Y/n) had fucked up badly, not just badly but truly horribly. How had this happened? Well… being in the so called “Celebrity school”, took per pressure to a whole other level. Not just that, but lying, trying to maintain that lie and not getting caught had her making decisions she should’ve never made. Insert a handsome young actor, trying to prove he’s more then an action movie star, it’s a recipe for disaster… or the story how (Y/n) kissed Tom to prove they were “dating” him, caused too much drama and had to actually fake-date him to keep her dads’ reputation and movie from falling down hill.

A/N: Feedback? Y’all enjoy ok? and please tell me if you like it or not... IDK i hope y’all do like it!

Chapter one:

(Y/n) (Y/l/n) wasn’t a social person; she liked the solitude of her room on long summer days, with a book in hand and a bowl of melted ice cream somewhere on the floor. Sometimes, she would binge watch a show, after she got tired of re-reading all her favorite books, and pig out on papa johns pizza and their chocolate brownies. Sure, her friend Aline would come visit her from time to time, but it was only her most of the time.

Her parents were always out and her brother never really acknowledged her, after he went through puberty. (Y/N) didn’t mind it though, she hated their attention, specially her dads. He expects too much from her, and she couldn’t give him that kind of greatness.

She stared up at her ceiling and sighed, she was bored out of her mind but to lazy to go anywhere. Her brother had taken her car, and she wasn’t going to take his death trap of a motorcycle, (Y/N) valued her life too much. Sitting up, she ran out of her room and to the kitchen. She grabbed the cookie dough ice cream pint and a spoon, moving into the T.V. room, she turned it on and put on E! News, hoping to watch a Kardashian episode.

“Breaking News guys” Giuliana Rancic voice grabbed her attention. “It’s been confirmed that Tom Holland will be the new Mr. Darcy in the remake of Pride and Prejudice. We don’t know when filming starts but we can’t wait!” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, not really caring for him or the remake of the movie. In fact, she was against it, how can someone remake such a perfect movie?

Her dad, (Y/d/n) (Y/l/n), was a highly known man in the film industry. He was a famous actor, left it and now he's behind the scene with his production company, financing the remake of Pride and prejudice. She completely hated it.

“Its official, huh?” She turned around, looking at her brother. He was semi-shirtless with Apple, his girlfriend or un-official hook up, clinging to him. (Y/n) had never liked her, she was a bitch, plain and simple.

“Yeah, well I still don’t like the idea of it.” She shrugged, towards him.

“We’re ordering pizza, what do you want?” He said, leaving the room.

“Get me a chicken bacon bbq please!” (Y/n) screamed, turning to watch a new episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half a sleep, the door bell rings and she excitedly runs to the door. She’d been expecting it to be the pizza but instead, saw two of the most influential and insufferable people in her school.

“Hey?” (Y/n) reacted. She felt self-conscious, both pair of eyes on her worn out pajamas.

“So… we heard your dad's casted Tom Holland for his movie.” Lola pushed (Y/n) aside and entered her house. The black staircase was in front of them, with a small black circular table with a gold elephant on the middle. It screamed wealth, high society and modern, everything that she wasn’t but Lola was.

“Yeah, I guess.” She mumbled, leaning on the white wall while observing Lola and her minion.

“Well, Lola wants to meet him. We all know that they would be such a great couple. Imagine them on red carpets, events, ugh… the most perfect couple and I ju-.” Daniela rambled.

“Daniela, shut up!” Lola commanded, her curly brown hair falling on her scrunched up mean face.

“As Daniela said.” She glared at her friend. “I want to me Tom now that he’s here in LA and you can introduce us. I might just even be nice and let you get to know him as a FRIEND.”

“Maybe, he can get a friend for you (Y/n).” Daniela dumbly stated.

“Just shut up Daniela” Lola screamed at the top of her lung. (Y/n) rolled her eyes and walked in front of them.

“I don’t need a boyfriend and I can’t introduce you to Tom, is that all?” She responded nonchalantly.

“What? Do you think Tom would want to be with you? You’re just some random who wouldn’t even look good with him. You really think he’ll be fixated on you? Not even John Welsh at school would!” Daniela madly responded. Lola shut her up with a look and came closer to (Y/n) and smiled.

“Why can’t you introduce me to Tom? It's not like he’ll want to date you, you’d be luck to even have on of his ugly friends ask you out.” She wickedly smiled.

“First of all I can’t introduce you, and second I don’t care if I’m too ugly for whomever you qualify as hot, I’m already dating someone hot and interesting.” She stumbled out, lying through her teeth.

“Oh, really? Who? Do I know him?” She pressed, pushing (Y/n) towards the wall.

“No, you don’t know him. Please, just leave.” (Y/n) mumbled, feeling scared.

“OH, so he doesn’t go to our school… is he older? Still didn’t answer why I couldn’t meet Tom.” She pressed, growing taller by the second, intimidating (Y/n).

“He’s older and you just can’t, sorry.” She quietly stated.

“Why? Its not like your dating Tom or are you?” (Y/n) was pressed to the cool wall, Lola hard glare staring back at her without flinching. God, she was about to commit the stupidest thing, but she just wanted out.

“Yes, we’re dating, thats why you can’t and won’t meet him. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, just leave Lola before you embarrass more of yourself.” (Y/n) rapidly stated with false confidence. Danielas’ mouth was agape, looking towards a startled Lola. She had moved a step back in surprise of (Y/n) little outburst.

“You’re lying (Y/n), I just know it.” She snarkly said.

“No, I’m not Lola, just leave.” She hated her school, she hated Lola and this was just too much. She didn’t care if she didn’t know tom, its not like she’d ever see him and has to be in a room with both Lola and him. Also, she didn’t have to prove anything.

“I know you’re lying (Y/n), Tom wouldn’t be with an untalented creep like you.” She snarled.

“Leave.” (Y/n) commanded. Lola rolled her eyes and started waling towards the door with Daniela trailing behind.

“I want proof (Y/n), I won’t stop until I get proof.” Lola screamed as (Y/n) closed slammed the door shut. God, she hated them.

The weekend came and went without any real event until she started getting weird messages asking about Tom Holland from people she never talked too. It started the night before school, when she got 5 messages asking how she was and how she’d gotten such a hot boyfriend. (Y/n) was confused until she realized what was happening. How the fuck was she going to go back to school?

She had fucked up, telling Lola and her clan that she had gotten a boyfriend during summer, and it was Tom Holland. She’d told everyone, trying to make her break but it wasn’t going to happen. She was in LA, it was a big enough place to go to school and avoid all these celebrities. That night she fell asleep, dreaming about how fucked up she was going to be. She knew Lola wouldn’t stop until she got some proof, it didn’t matter if it was in favor of (Y/n) or not.

(Y/n) had royally fucked up, now she was stuck in a teen movie where she had to lie her butt off. She should be turning blue right now like in big fat lie Oh god, years from now she’ll go down in history like a liar who faked a relationship with Tom Holland, in fact they might make a movie about her and how she ruined her social status.

(Y/n) knew she was doomed. Well, that's what she gets for lying.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x zendaya #tom holland x robert downey jr #tom holland x oc #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #harrison osterfeild imagine #tom holland imagine #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x oc #peter parker x you #fake dating #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic

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rocket-remmy · 5 years

Text

Intro To Queer||Morgan and Remmy

In which Morgan explains to Remmy what U-haul Lesbians are.

(Content warning: Mild homophobia mentions)

Morgan had shed two of her extra sweaters and done her hair to greet the InstaCart driver without getting weird looks. It was bad enough being perma-cold, still living at the Traveler’s Rest, and ordering jelly beans along with her tea and microwave soup. She could at least spruce up and look like the composed adult she wished she was. And now Remmy was coming over! With a thermal blanket! It was silly, certainly, but Remmy for some reason thought well of her without Morgan putting in too much effort. It as a nice, if not unfamiliar feeling, and Morgan didn’t want to disappoint by answering the door half-feral in her pajamas and hoodie. She made herself some coffee, courtesy of Cassie, and took her cup outside to watch the sky. She hadn’t seen the sun in three days, but the cloud cover was looking extra thin; maybe she’d get lucky. When she saw a lanky ragamuffin of a person start ambling uncertainly up the stairs, she leaned over the railing and called down. “Are you Remmy?”

Remmy had met a lot of people off the internet in the past few weeks. It was almost becoming a regular thing, now. But it was a community board! It was supposed to be for this kind of thing to happen safely! It was just a weird thing, for Remmy. Remmy, who had mostly been without internet and cell phone service and satellite TV for several years. They had an old bunny ears box back at base, but they were only allowed to turn it on every other night, and only for an hour or two, if the Lieutenant was feeling nice. They had radios, though. Lots of radios. The point in all that, Remmy reminded themself, was that the internet just wasn’t something they were used to. But hey hadn’t been led wrong yet. And Cece vouched for Morgan. So this was going to be okay. Remmy didn’t really know what to expect, or what else to bring, so they’d brought some tea Blanche had bought them, a beanie, some hand warmers, and, of course, the blanket. When someone called out to them, Remmy stopped and looked around. “Yeah! That’s me!” Squinted. “Are you Morgan?”

Now that they were closer, it was painfully, sweetly, obvious who this was. Remmy, who apparently hadn’t gotten around to buying a backpack or even one of those reusable plastic bags from the grocery store, had taken it upon themselves to wrangle her get-well presents and carry them all the way from Gallow’s End. It was just the kind of earnest thing someone who could call her a good person without meeting her would do. Morgan gave them a friendly wave and came to meet them at the top of the stairs. “It’s me!” She called. “Come on up, I’ve got snacks I don’t want to move to my new place! You know, you look pretty good for someone who lost an arm today.”

Remmy couldn’t see too well from far away. It was probably the missing eye, but it could’ve also been the pile of stuff in front of them that prevented them from fully seeing Morgan. Just a puff of curly hair and a sweater, right now. “Hey!” They called out, trying to give a wave, but realized they’d drop all the stuff if they did that, so they just gave a shrug. “Coming!” Padded quickly up the stairs until they reached almost reached the top, finally able to see the person waiting for them at the top, pausing in blindsighted surprise. Morgan was shorter than Remmy, but she had one of those cute, innocent faces framed all the more by her bustle of curls on her head. It wasn’t the sight Remmy had been expecting, and this would make the second time they’d almost stumbled into something when seeing a pretty girl for the first time. They tried to hand off the stuff, stuttering to say a proper hello and almost running straight into the pole at the top, a foot catching on one of the stairs.

“Oh my god!” Morgan reached out to snag some of Remmy’s things and put a steadying hand on their arm. They were cold to the touch, about as frozen on the outside as she felt on the inside. Morgan made a careful note of this, in case it helped them figure out what they were, and helped them up the last step. They had lost their balance out of nowhere. “Careful, don’t want you to lose a foot too. Although, who knows, maybe it’s not that big a deal! But uh, you sure you didn’t get any other injuries on the beach?” She smiled at them coyly; there was a flustered look in their face, like they were embarrassed, the way teenagers sometimes got. Heck, the way even she’d sometimes gotten over a pretty face. “We don’t have to talk about it, though, let’s just get inside in one piece, yeah?” She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she spoke and propped open her rickety door for Remmy to come inside.

“Sorry!” Remmy called out, even as they stumbled and tried to catch themself on the railing. “Sorry! I’m just--” Clambered up the last step and onto stable ground, though that wasn’t saying too much for Remmy. Their dad always said they could probably trip over nothing. Standing up straight and holding out the blanket, Remmy gave as much of a grin back as they could, their eyes darting to try and stay focused on Morgan, but having a bit of a rough time with it. This usually happened with new people. “Umm-- yeah. I mean, no! Nothing else! I think. Just a lot of lobsters! Or um-- whatever they were. But yeah! Inside. Let’s do that.” Scooted through the door before turning around to look at Morgan, unsure of what to do now. “Uh-- I didn’t know if you needed anything else! So I brought like...a hat. And some tea! And those handwarmers. They’re great, you can even put them like in your gloves or socks and they make your whole hand or foot warm!” Stood with their hands held out, holding up the aforementioned gifts, a crooked smile on their face.

Morgan curled up at the foot of the bed, nicely cocooned in the thermal blanket for all the good it did and let Remmy talk themselves out. They were a nervous one, and she couldn’t suss out just from observation whether it was her, or the day, or just...Remmy. “Thank you,” she said. “This is really kind of you to do for someone you’ve just talked to a couple times. But listen, I was planning on having some jelly beans with my coffee and watching some old Grey’s Anatomy episodes if you hadn’t come,so you don’t have to stay if hanging out in a room like this with a stranger-like person makes you nervous. And, you know, we can try and unpack some of that stuff you mentioned too, if you did feel like staying around.” She took another sip of her coffee and smiled up at Remmy in a way that she hoped convey her lack of desire to murder them or whatever else they might be worried about. “You just seem tense, which is more than understandable, and I don’t want you stick around because you feel like you have to, okay? This right here is perfect.” She clasped the blanket a little tighter. “I’m good.”

“Oh, well-- you were like super nice when we talked and answered my questions and put up with me,” Remmy immediately said, “And plus I accidentally flaked on helping you pack that one time! But I-I promise it’s not you! Well, I mean, it’s kinda you-- but not in a bad way! In the like ‘you’re really pretty and I didn’t expect that and I sometimes just get really nervous around pretty people’ kind of way! So like… not bad.” They paced a minute, before deciding to force themself to sit down in the one little chair by the bed. “Not that I’m hitting on you or anything! I just think you’re very pretty! And like nice and sweet and you didn’t freak out on me when I told you my arm grew back.” A pause, where they were sure they should need to take a breath, but didn’t. “And I wanna stay! I do. I’m sorry-- the rambling probably doesn’t help. It’s uh-- my doctor said it’s a coping thing. Um, cause my mind races a lot? I guess that happens to vets um...a lot. When they come back. You sure you’re okay? Is the blanket helping? Can I get you more coffee or something?”

So it was just Remmy, poor thing. Morgan couldn’t help but smile wider, fluff her hair back and over the side the way she thought made her look even younger as they stumbled over themselves to explain. Like, very pretty? Who even talked that openly anymore? Did Remmy even know how to be any other way? Morgan was almost afraid to ask. This town had some dark shadows hiding in it, and even if most people she had met were nice, people like Remmy were usually the first ones kicked down and crushed when something went wrong. “Remmy, I would bottle you up and keep you on tap for dark days if I could. Figuratively speaking, of course. Not actually, even if that was a thing that I could do, which it isn’t.You are, as the kids say, too good for this world, Remmy. Grab one of the other blankets and come sit by me. I have all the coffee I need--nothing actually makes me warmer, so I’ve been going with distraction to help facilitate a nice placebo--and I promise not to bite, or hit on you either. Although you are very fine looking yourself and it’s always nice to get some queer attention with a face this girly.” She wriggled her free hand out of her blanket burrito and patted the floor.

Remmy looked over at Morgan, then to the spot next to her. “Oh? I mean, you may not be able to bottle me, but you can definitely message me any time! I don’t sleep a lot or often anymore, cause of all the meds I’m on, although now I’m not sure it’s cause of those. Cause, like, if I’m not human, then, do human drugs work on me? You know?” Swallowed heavily. The word reverberated in Remmy’s head. Queer. Not that it was bad or sounded bad or was negative in anyway, but that ingrained, visceral reaction to hearing the word, the one that was drilled into Remmy’s head, made their fingers wring tightly together. “Is it that obvious?” they blurted without thinking, then stopped, biting their lip. “I mean-- sorry! It’s not that-- I’m not like-- I mean I am like that, it’s just-- new.” They stood up from the chair, sat back down. Looked at the spot next to Morgan and her welcoming face; the blanket burrito looked comfortable, too. Remmy bit the inside of their cheek, before standing up again and tentatively scooting over, sitting down next to Morgan, making sure to not touch her. Their eyes stared holes into the ground in front of them. “I’m not like-- ashamed or anything. I think. At least, not anymore. It’s just-- cause in the military-- with DADT-- and most of the higher ups didn’t approve. But like-- it’s obvious?” Finally, they looked up at Morgan, but only for a brief second, before their eyes fell back to the floor in front of them. They weren’t sure what they wanted the answer to be.

“Oh, Remmy,” Morgan whispered. Whatever she had expected them to say next, it hadn’t been...all of that. This was much more real shit than Grey’s Anatomy. “Wow. Okay….okay…” She breathed out slowly, knowing she should pick her words extra careful. Shit, of course Remmy would be fucked up after DADT. In her head, it was over when it was over, and as bad as things were for people like them, people didn’t talk about it getting back-walked like they did other things. She tried to think about what she would have wanted to hear when she was more scared of herself, or scared for different reasons. What she wished she’d heard after the news broadcasts and the protests blipped off the TV and she crept back to bed, unnoticed by her parents. She had no clue. “Well,” she said gently, watching the ripples in her coffee cup as it quivered, “Straight women don’t get so flustered like that around girls. And second, you’re a ‘they,’ right? I only know that from knowing you and your pronouns, but all the same…” It felt like she was breaking some bad news to Remmy, and she didn’t want to be. But how else did she talk about this when she remembered so vividly-- “Look, I was seven, when they were making jokes about gay plague in the white house press briefing room, and the president was pitying those poor gays, bringing it on themsleves, and my grandma said things like, ‘it’s adam and eve, not adam and steve!’ I didn’t know how I was then. No one did, because I liked my dolls and my dresses so much. But it was in my head when I started figuring it out.” Worse than that, it had convinced her she was the reason so many bad things happened to her family. If all the gays in New York City could bring down a plague, of course one girl could ruin her family. It had been happening since she was born, so why not? Even after her mother told her never, baby, never, this is so much bigger than you, this has nothing to with how special you were made, Morgan had found herself wondering anyway for a long time after. But she wasn’t ready to tell that part to Remmy, or to anyone. “I get how afraid someone can be about this. And you should keep saying...what your are, and that you’re not ashamed. As often as you can. Because it’s probably going to take awhile before you really get there.”

“I don’t know what I am,” Remmy said after a long silence. They were trying to let Morgan’s words settle in, but it felt as if there were trampolines inside their head and everything was just bouncing around with no stopping, no one thought to hold onto. “I mean...I know I’m not...what I was born as. And it’s weird, but that’s somehow easier to accept than being--” they stopped. Maybe they were still ashamed. They couldn’t say the word out loud without feeling their skin bristle and their hands shake and their senses sharpen. Just like when they were in the field, that impending sense of doom. That someone had spotted them, that someone knew, and they were going to hurt them. Because they could. Because they wanted to. Remmy swallowed. “They still said those things, even when I was born. When I was growing up, where I was from. It got you beaten at best, and killed at worst. I didn’t even know until I was older. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that I might be.” They hadn’t even noticed there were tears in their eyes. Remmy scrubbed one away with their sleeve. “Sorry...I know that’s not fair. You lived through a really rough time, too. And-and you very brave, to have been open about it. Sometimes I wish I had been, maybe this’d all be easier. Maybe I wouldn’t be pushing thirty and just now trying to figure out how to talk to pretty girls, you know?” Remmy gave a sniffle and a crooked smile. “But I am now. And I just gotta...think about that.” They scrubbed their face again. “You musta been so scared…” they said quietly.

Morgan stayed still and quiet. She hadn’t been open, was the thing. Sure, she came out to her mom, once in awhile she sat in the back at student meetings. She’d kept a flyer in her notebook about a bus trip to visit the AIDS quilt when it came to Austin once. But she let her sweaters and her makeup do most of the hiding for her, and if she ever stared too long at a girl, or brushed up too close, there was always some excuse and people always seemed ready to take it. She didn’t have her first real date until she was practically Remmy’s age. She still hadn’t had much in the way of a real relationship. How could she, with what happened to her dad? “Yeah, course I was,” she said quickly. “But it was never going to be easy, okay? No matter what disaster you were born in the middle of. I mean that in a nice way. You’re not...doomed or anything just because you’re on your own time. Temporality is different for queer children. Does that make sense?”

The hesitation should have given a Remmy a hint at something else, but they kept quiet. If Morgan didn’t want to bring it up, neither would they. Remmy looked back down at the carpet, playing with a snagged bit that had stuck up and begun to fray. “I don’t think I feel doomed. I just feel...cheated, I guess. Like...I missed so much time. Time that I can’t get back.” They glanced over at Morgan. There was a sort of relief to being able to dump all this on someone, finally, but Remmy still felt that pang of guilt. That saying these things, talking about this, was just dumping their problems on someone else. It was don’t ask, don’t tell for a reason in the military. It wasn’t just queer people that kept their mouths shut. It was everyone with something that showed any bit of weakness or non conformity. Their life had been order and strict and routine for so long they hadn’t realized that time was being stolen from them, bit by bit, as they fell in line and did as ordered. “The first, um-- the first time I kissed a girl was in high school and it scared me so much I pretty much ghosted her for the next two years. Which is kinda...hard to do in a school of only 300 students.” They were quiet again, and found that they really wanted to be closer to Morgan. Scooted slightly. She felt safe. It’d only been five minutes, but Morgan felt safe. “I wish it was easy.”

Morgan noticed Remmy scoot closer to her. She looked over her shoulder at them. She had imagined them as older, even with all the anxiety, they were so reserved, so haunted. But in this moment they just seemed lost. “Maybe one day it will be,” she said. “You’ll...take the leap enough times that you get used to it!” She brightened herself up with a big smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she hoped it made Remmy feel better all the same. “Not ghosting girls you kiss is probably a good start. I mean, unless that’s something you agree on doing together, in which case, that’s great.”

Remmy gave a little smile, still crooked and tired on their face. But they hoped Morgan got the point. They were grateful for her. “I just don’t want anyone to ever have to suffer like that, you know…” They stopped picking at the carpet. “Not even for myself, I just...don’t want anyone to go through that.” A tiredness settled over them, one they hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah, I think I can handle that. The um-- not ghosting anyone.” They scooted a little closer again, then leaned over and set their head on Morgan’s shoulder. She was still shivering slightly, but it didn’t bother Remmy. They just liked being close, to a physical body. “I’m still just figuring out how to navigate being...you know, um...liking girls? And now I might have to try and learn what it means to not be human…” a sigh. “How do you do it?” they asked. “Be so open with it all? The magic, the liking girls...Isn’t it scary?”

Morgan didn’t mind Remmy’s cold little head on her shoulder. As they settled in, she tugged on their arm through the blanket and tucked them around her in a way that felt more cozy to her. She leaned her head in theirs, trying to nest in like those nesting necklace halves, but not quite getting it right around ears and jawlines and tufts of hair. “The magic is actually kind of easy. Kind of. I mean, my shop is Beck’s Witchery, it would be stupid to talk out of both sides of my mouth about that. But when I say I’m a witch, nine times out of ten people assume I mean I burn incense in a pentagram stamped cauldron and like, doodle rhyming spells with the help of my tarot cards. It doesn’t mean anything. I only talk about the alchemy when I think it’s at least reasonably safe to. And if I’m wrong, then they just don’t believe me. They assume I’m delusional, or stupid, or both, and in that case, what’s the point anyway, right?” She sighed and tried to settle into Remmy again. She couldn’t tell if they really were as cold as they felt or if the chill inside her was just that bad. “As for making time with pretty girls, well, I hate to break it to you, but it really was just practice. I um, I was actually your age, basically, when I went on my first date-date.” She laughed. “Is that something people say? Date-date? But my first kiss was a little before then. Real kiss, unless we’re counting drunk truth or dare, which I don’t think we should. She just uh—kinda did it. We met at a bar, danced and drank, and she walked me to my car. ‘I’m gonna kiss you goodnight okay?’ And I was so relieved and excited I didn’t do anything. I just...melted and watched her walk away. Like, crap, people do that? It made me realize I could do it too. Make it into something easy. It’s not so different from magic in that way. You have to say what you want if you want to get anything at all. And then, well, all the practice.”

Remmy let Morgan tuck herself against them, staying still while she adjusted. They missed being close to people. Though their other teammates hadn’t been so openly intimate, Remmy could always count on crawling into a bunk next to Dario and falling asleep in his arms. Moose was a nice cuddle buddy, but it was hard to spoon a dog. “I guess, yeah,” they said, trying to take in exactly what Morgan was saying. It was hard, though, for Remmy to brush people off like that. “I don’t think I’m as um...easy going as you might be. About other people. Maybe that’s not the word, um…” They paused as Morgan shifted. “S-sorry, I can move if…” Cleared their throat. “Oh, uh-- I think people still say date-date. I guess there’s a difference between like, friend-date and date-date.” They reached out to pick at the carpet again. “I’m sorry…” they weren’t sure for what, exactly, but if felt like the only thing to say. “I’m glad you um-- got to experience that though. And learned how to be yourself. Guess we’re all kinda...running late on that dating thing, aren’t we?” They pulled their hands back into their lap, thinking for a moment. “A girl kissed me the other night. Um-- outside a bar. It was….really nice actually. And now she wants to come over and watch movies and I’m freaking out a little.”

“You’re fine, silly,” Morgan laughed. “And by easy-going do you mean demi, or like, just not into hook ups and friends with benefits? Or just like...confidence? These are all big distinctions, and I’m feeling curious.” She nudged Remmy in their side through her blanket, teasing. “And we’re not running late! Not...exactly! We operate under different temporal rules because or coming to understand ourselves has been so historically fucked and endangered! And delayed queer adolescence is a thing and---I’m turning into a lecturer now,” she laughed again. “So tell me more about this girl. And also don’t freak out. You’re a cute, scruffy little stud. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Well, except getting their heart broken. Which, given this was a rando at a bar, seemed pretty likely. But that wasn’t exactly pep talk material.

Remmy felt their cheeks get a little warm. “Um-- I don’t think I entirely understand what demi is, but um...I guess I’m not really into hook-ups. I like feeling a connection with someone. Never really...considered friends with benefits thing before. There wasn’t really room for um-- sexual experimentation in the army. And since I joined when I was seventeen, I didn’t really...leave myself that room to explore.” Morgan always seemed positive about things, and Remmy liked that. It was a sort of kindred experience. There were a lot of people here, and back at the VA that were nothing but bad vibes and pessimism. Not that Remmy really blamed them, everyone had their own shit going on-- but it was nice to meet another person who also tried to look more on the bright side of things. “It’s okay. To lecture. I don’t know a lot of this stuff. I feel so...outside of the um-- culture? I don’t know...how to explain it. I try my best, but it’s-- there’s a lot.” They couldn’t help but smile at the mention of it, though. “You think I’m cute?” More of a tease, but Morgan was the second person to tell them that. “Oh, um-- her name is Taylor. She’s a singer.”

Morgan nudged Remmy again. “I think you’re very cute. If you ever figure out your stance on friends with benefits, you should definitely let me know.” She wasn’t exactly holding her breath. Remmy was fresh as a baby when it came to the whole intimacy and relationships. Morgan had heard more than one woman swear they never wanted a basket of rainbows and forever, but she didn’t buy it. Maybe it wasn’t what fit everybody, but she couldn’t imagine someone not hoping it might and trying to find it. “A singer? Like, rock and roll, or just a girl and her guitar, or, I guess they come with a ukulele more often now. Either way, not too shabby. But why are you freaking out? If she’s interested in you, what’s to worry about?”

Remmy’s cheeks got warmer. “Oh, um...o-okay.” They swallowed, and were suddenly thankful that Morgan couldn’t see their face right now because it was probably beet red and they were sure their eyes were wider than coins. Remmy had done friends with benefits with a couple of the guys before, but that was because dating was almost strictly forbidden in boot camp, and there wasn’t much time for anything else when they were deployed. “Yeah! A singer. Um-- I think more rock? She’s in a band. It’s called Knot Known. I guess they’re going on tour soon, that’s what she said. I walked her to her car and she gave me her card.” They smiled again, softer. “I-i don’t know why I’m worried. I just...get that really weird feeling in my stomach and like, I’m gonna say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing or not be good enough or funny enough or smart enough.”

“Aaw, you like her!” Morgan cooed. “Oof, and after just one meeting. She is either crazy impressive, or you fall hard and fast, bless your heart.” Called it, she thought with a wry grin. “But that’s not always a bad thing. We need more hearts of gold in this cold, cold world. But, you can’t let all those butterflies get the better of you. You just have to be yourself, let yourself enjoy the moment. Like right now but different.”

“What!? No! I mean-- I like her, of course I do! She’s nice and pretty and--” Remmy paused mid-sentence and closed their mouth. Their whole face felt warm now. “I...okay, maybe I do like her, but like-- I don’t know if I’m ready for anything. Or if I want anything to happen? I just…” They crinkled their nose, felt that tightness in their chest again just like that night outside the bar. “It felt really nice. To be...liked by someone like that. N-not that no one’s ever liked me! It’s just always been...guys.”

“Bless your poor heart!” Morgan laughed. “Guys? No shame, or judgement. But guys will get into anything if they think there’s a piece of ass for them in it. That’s their thing. And you don’t really sound like someone who also likes guys, so she’s still your first. Your first serious crush!” She wanted to pinch their cheeks, they were getting as flustered as a child. “Of course it feels different! Just, okay, don’t go too hard, like bring flowers on the first date. Try and keep your cool for a little bit before you fall into big, deep, U-Haul love. And having a crush doesn’t have to mean doing anything about it. If you want to take it slow and steady, you should do that.” Morgan was thinking all of this out as she spoke, but it sounded right, like something a person with relationships would say, and it made enough sense for her to stand by it.

“I mean, I dated guys for a long time,” Remmy said. They understood that dating guys before didn’t take away from who they were now, or even back then, but the idea of being an imposter among queer peers still plauged them when they thought too much about it. Not realizing you were gay until you were 28 didn’t seem like a very shared experience. “Oh, yeah-- o-okay. I mean...I’m not even sure it’s a date. It’s just movies and stuff. U-haul l-love?” They blinked, finally sat up, looked at Morgan confusedly. “I don’t know...what that means.” Furrowed their brow. “There should be like...a book for all this. Or like a youtube tutorial video.”

Morgan looked at Remmy with a fond kind of pity, so alone! So anxious! So much life ahead of them! “It’s just a thing people say, or said, maybe I’m dating myself. But it’s just this idea that, when it comes to women dating each other, they’ll get attached super quickly, and by the second date they’ll want to move in together. And, I have seen that sort of thing happen before so it’s not just a cliche about femmes having too many feelings, but that’s beside the point,” she explained. “Just find your way between having fun in the moment in being careful. That’s the most anyone can do, right? And the good news is that these days there probably are a lot more resources for you right now. Just just have to give yourself time to look for them! Ooh, you should see if the VA will pay for you to go to UMWC! You can get a minor in gay studies. But—besides the point! Just, do the thing I said before, and you’ll probably be fine.”

Remmy couldn’t quite place the look on Morgan’s face, but it was definitely one they’d seen before. Tilting their head, they listened intently to her talk. She sure could talk an ear off, that was for sure. It kinda made Remmy smile. “After only two dates!?” they said, exasperated. “Geez...I don’t think I could ever do that. As much as I like people…” a shrug, chin tucked into their shoulder in a shy gesture. “Oh, I-- I’m not smart enough for that. I barely graduated high school. It’s sorta why I went into the military, you know? I didn’t really have any other options… But, um-- thanks for the vote of confidence. It um...means a lot.”

“Okay, so, maybe a slight exaggeration,” Morgan confessed. “But you get the idea. Two girls who met in my masters program did go from zero to living together in a week, though. But, you should really think about college! Maybe take some online community classes. You can learn, Remmy. You’re worth taking a chance on at least, right?”

“Wow, that’s…” Remmy shook their head, “I can’t even fathom that. Maybe it’s just me, though. I try not to judge people though. If that’s what they wanna do…” They looked over at Morgan, smiling a little brighter now. The day had had a rough start, and even though they still had so many questions about what they were and how to deal with it, they felt okay. They knew they’d be okay if there were people like Morgan in their life. “I guess I could look into it...a sort of friend offered me a job at his garage if I could get the schooling. Not sure I wanna be a mechanic, though. Too close to following in my dad’s footsteps.” They made a decision, then, nodding. “Whatever does happen, I’m gonna figure this out for you, Morgan. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, don’t,” Morgan said dryly. The words had slipped loose before she could think better. Maybe it was the cold was finally getting to her head. Maybe Remmy was making her melt around the edges, guilting her with all their sad young puppy eyes, their earnestness, their energy. For someone who’d seen a battle zone, Remmy was relentless, even optimistic, at least about the world; about other people. “Let’s just watch some Grey’s, we have time for that right?” she said, shrugging it off like she was only talking about their situation here and now, like she wasn’t afraid the universe would hear them and pull on just that one thread to fuck with her, unraveling what little she’d managed to scrounge together here.

Remmy’s face twisted a moment. That wasn’t the reply they’d been expecting. Sure, they didn’t know what they’d expected Morgan to say, but it wasn’t that. Still...Remmy couldn’t just leave her when she was sick like this, and all she wanted to do was watch some TV with a friend. Remmy could give her that. The chest wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. They could go check it out tomorrow, later at night, when everyone else was tucked in bed and they were lying awake staring at the grey ceiling of their apartment. “Yeah…” they said, sitting back down and settling back against Morgan, shoulder to shoulder. “We’ve got time for that.”

#chatzy #chatzy: morgan #morgan #intro to queer #a much needed talk

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mittensmorgul · 5 years

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Faith on the tnt loop (which, full disclosure, I slept through oopsie, so I pulled out the blu ray because this is NOT one I can skip).

Post 14.20, this episode is... extra-amazing, honestly. I’ve always felt that this episode was unwittingly (possibly, at the time it was written) a window into what this story could potentially do. When I first binged this series, this was the first episode I finished where I had to stop and completely reevaluate what I was actually witnessing. This was the episode that took me from casually consuming a fun lil monster show to 100% invested in this grand narrative. Even without any knowledge of what the ensuing 6 1/2 season (that existed at the time), I felt like I had my first glimpse of a much bigger picture in store for me. This was the first episode that, after a break to absorb what I’d just witnessed, I went back and immediately watched it again. Turns out I wasn’t reading too much into it... in fact, I wasn’t reading nearly enough into it...

The episode begins with Sam and Dean hunting a monster that we’ve only ever seen once more in the entirety of canon-- a rawhead, which earned a mention in 14.01 after an off-screen hunt for one went wrong enough to have left a tooth behind in one of the AU hunters. As if the monster in this case has been rendered doubly irrelevant, by virtue of the fact it practically dies offscreen in 1.12 while Dean's defeat of it and his own actions and choices in defeating it are the actual inciting incident of all the relevant action to follow. And in 14.01, all that remains of the rawahead was a tooth that's extracted from a wound and likely a wild hunter's tale.

Dean explains the use of the tasers they're using to take down the rawhead (specifically that the electricity is deadly to it and each weapon is one use only, "so make it count"). Dean takes his shot, and misses, but they find the children the rawhead had been holding captive. Dean tells Sam to take them outside to safety, and Sam hands over his taser to Dean, leaving Dean alone to face the monster (who we learn in 14.01 moves a lot faster than expected, and fast enough that we never even really see it in 1.12). Dean is literally backed into a corner, on the ground in a puddle of water, with the monster looming over him when he chooses to take his shot. It's not like he had much choice, right? So he shoots, and thanks to the water he's lying in, he electrocutes himself as well, damaging his own heart to the point where the doctor gives him a month to live.

He could've made a different choice, could've rolled out of the water, could've tried to fight off the rawhead (probably ineffectively) but perhaps enough that it would've given up and escaped to hunt children another day, but Dean took his shot, in a circumstance where he felt it was the right thing to end this monster and prevent it from hurting anyone ever again, even when it hurt him in the process. Not that he knew it would necessarily kill him to do it, but he was fully aware of the power of the weapon in his hand and what it was capable of, and accepted that it would hurt him right along with the monster he'd aimed it at since they were “connected” through the puddle of water.

Can anyone else say Hammurabi? Equalizer?

All of this has happened before.

But that's just the beginning. Because Dean survived, even if mortally wounded. This was the first time, though, that they were motivated to defy death, and that brings us to the true Monster of the Week-- Sue Ann LeGrange. Yes, I know it's technically "a reaper," but operating under Sue Ann's control and on her orders. She was the one who chose who lived and who died, based on who SHE thought was worthy, or unworthy in the case of her chosen victims. She was "playing god," deceiving her husband after saving HIS life with this dark magic (which required at least TWO sacrifices on her part-- one to make the altar and talisman to bind the reaper in the first place, and one person to die to save Roy, unbeknownst to him), and letting him think that he was miraculously granted the gift of healing by God.

And Sam decides to look for a similar sort of miraculous cure for Dean, even when Dean had accepted his own apparent fate:

DEAN: Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story. SAM: Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options. DEAN: What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it. SAM: Watch me.

Sam isn't about to go committing human sacrifice like Sue Ann, but after a tearful phone call plea to John for help, which goes unreplied to, Sam takes matters into his own hands, just as Dean checks himself out of the hospital having accepted his fate:

SAM: You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it. DEAN: Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me. SAM: (Helping DEAN to a chair) I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal. DEAN: For what? SAM: For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist. DEAN: You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? SAM: I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

(aside to lol at John’s friend being named “Joshua,” namesake of the one angel God continued to talk to after supposedly abandoning Heaven and Earth, the angel who told Sam and dean in 5.16 that God refused to step in to help stop the apocalypse, and the angel killed in 12.19 by Dagon before fetus!Jack hijacked Cas to kill Dagon in turn... and even after his death it was Joshua’s amulet in 14.17 that enabled him to summon Chuck back into the story... funny that this hunter we never hear about again was the one to point Sam in the direction of this healer...)

And I'm sorry to just keep pasting in chunks of transcript, but this all goes to Sam and Dean's respective outlooks on pretty much everything, and the Grand Manipulation of Chuck in the entire narrative as we now understand it post 14.20:

DEAN: I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer? SAM: Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean. DEAN: You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on. SAM: How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday? DEAN: Exactly. We see them, we know there real. SAM: But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too? DEAN: Because I've seen what evil does to good people.

Sam has faith, Dean's a skeptic. Throughout s14 we saw what it would take to break Dean to the point where he would accept the word of God without question. It literally took the entire season, more than half of it revolving around his possession and complete loss of free will and self, building him up when Michael left him again and giving him a false sense of security to begin to feel comfortable building emotional bridges to his entire family (including Jack), only to tear it all down and lose himself to Michael again on a whim, losing Mary again, losing Jack to soullessness because of his own failed choices (in his estimation, at least). This process of showing Dean how little power and control he has over his own existence was furthered by Billie presenting him with the supposed singular solution to save the world, which Dean interpreted to mean the most horrifying iteration of self-sacrifice the show has ever presented to us-- an eternity spent at the bottom of the ocean, locked with Michael in the Ma'lak box. Ironically, just as he was beginning to think of himself as something more than just a weapon, the parallel can't help but be drawn to the First Blade, which Cain had thrown to the bottom of the ocean in a similar fashion. Which should only serve to remind us that even that's not a permanent solution to any problem. And I think THAT was the lesson Billie truly wished Dean to understand. Jack is the one who ends up making the true sacrifice (his own human soul) to kill Michael once and for all, and Dean is left with the guilt of that.

But several other important incidents in s14 tie directly back to this, too. 14.08, playing with life and death, learning about what truly matters in someone's destiny after death, and what the Winchesters are willing to do to save a loved one. Ironically, in the process, Cas is backed into a corner, making a deal with the Empty Entity for his own happiness in exchange for Jack's soul.

Nothing ever comes for free. The Winchesters have been juggling these horrific choices and sacrifices their entire lives, and nothing is ever just as simple as an uncomplicated win.

Which is a key element of 1.12. Dean's skepticism, his feeling of "wrongness" after being healed by Roy, uncovers the larger truth. Sam desperately wants Dean to just let it go, accept it as a miracle, and move on:

SAM: Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on? DEAN: Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why.

A miracle isn't enough for Dean, and the truth is darker and more horrifying than Sam can accept. As he uncovers more and more of the facts of just how Roy is supposedly healing people, he tearfully apologizes to Dean, and they work together to find a way to stop it from happening again. Someone is controlling a reaper, literally trading one life for another. Chuck must've LOVED this episode of his favorite show. It nails all his favorite themes:

DEAN: You never should've brought me here. SAM: Dean, I was just trying to save your life. DEAN: But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me. SAM: I didn't know.

Ignorance of the truth didn't stop them from becoming entangled in this mess, though. Just like it hasn't stopped them from becoming entangled in every other cosmic mess they've stumbled across over the succeeding 14 seasons. Sam believed it was a miracle, and his faith had blinded him to the truth-- or at least made him want to believe, motivated by the results at Dean's miraculous healing. It's the same faith that led him in early s11 to want to believe his visions were coming from God, that maybe his visions that had plagued him in early seasons were being used for good now-- and with the intervention of Billie in 11.02 when those visions began, it's interesting how the solution that actually saved his life in that circumstance technically came from what she said to him about being "unclean in the biblical sense."

Reapers and their powers and limitations (clean hands!), and their knowledge of the Bigger Picture that Billie herself won't be able to see until she dies and is resurrected with the mantle of Death, have their beginnings in the mythology right here, enslaved to the will of a mortal woman who believed she could make choices about who deserved to live and who deserved to die based on her own corrupted sense of morality.

Even when the concept of Death is introduced in 5.10, he's presented as "lesser" than what he truly is by virtue of Lucifer having bound him to his will for the purposes of the apocalypse, and as merely one of the Four Horsemen equal to War, Famine, and Pestilence. In 5.21, we learn what he's "supposed to be." Practically an equal to God, with the power over all life and death. It's not really until 13.05 that we learn the truth about just how powerful Billie has become, and yet what her limitations still are. We begin to see one side of this massive cosmic chess match, all leading up to the biggest revelation of them all in 14.20.

Back to 1.12 again... (sorry it's impossible not to be continually distracted by the theme spiral here). Dean also is uncomfortable for the first time over the potential for The Lord to be eyeballing him specifically, which is a feeling he's gonna truly grow into throughout s4 "I don't like being singled out at birthday parties, let alone by God," right up through the showdown at the end of 14.20.

DEAN: Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me? ROY: Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest. DEAN: What did you see in my heart? ROY: A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.

Throughout the episode, they believe it's Roy controlling the reaper and making the choices about who lives and dies, but he was literally blind to the fact it was Sue Ann. He was as much a victim in all of this as the people he believed he was healing, that he believed he had been touched by God to impart new life to. But knowing the full truth, Dean has to stop someone from being healed that even HE believes deserves to be saved, to be spared the suffering of a life cut short by an inoperable brain tumor, after learning an innocent man would die in her place. No matter how much he might feel that Layla didn't deserve that fate, he also doesn't believe the man who'd been protesting Roy's healing ministry deserves to die just for that fact, either.

SUE ANN: I just don't understand. After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very very disappointed Dean DEAN stares at her, saying nothing. SUE ANN: You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit. SUE ANN leaves. The cops turn to DEAN. COP 1: We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?

Once again, in text, Sue Ann is unwittingly labeled "God." It's not God's wrath Dean fears, but Sue Ann's, knowing his defiance has likely turned him from worthy of healing to unworthy of living. Now this has moved beyond idealistically wanting to stop someone from playing god with people's lives right back to the immediate need to stop them before someone else becomes the next victim. And all of their choices-- Dean not being able to walk away, not being able to look the other way, discovering the full horrific truth of how he himself had been brought back from the brink of death, led them to this juncture where it truly felt like they had no other choice but to stop the monster. It literally became a life and death matter for Dean.

I still find it fascinating that as a result of their actions and choices in this episode, the reaper who'd been enslaved to Sue Ann's will was freed when Sam crushed the talisman that kept him bound. I find that highly amusing in retrospect, that while Dean was literally touched by an incarnation of Death several times in this episode, Sam effectively committed services rendered to the Cosmic Order.

We've learned so much about all of this over the years, as well-- the need for balance, order in the universe, and so many of those lessons have come from Death directly. Dean learns some of this firsthand in 6.11, for example, when he takes on Death's job for a day (or at least the life-and-death side of his job, now that we know so much more about his knowledge and understanding of creation as a whole). We learn even more through Billie, and her constant reminders that what's dead should stay dead, and through Billie's reapers once she becomes Death. 13.19 reminds us, through a story about the consequences of killing reapers, just how tenuous the course of cosmic events can be, and what the universe does to self-correct when the balance tilts too far in one direction. It's a lesson Tessa began to teach way back in 4.15, in an episode where Dean once again saves the life of a reaper (not only unwittingly protecting the cosmic balance, but literally stopping the breaking of a seal and staving off the apocalypse for at least another day, and that entire episode, that entire case, only happened through the unwitting guidance of them to the case by Cas-- still operating under Heaven’s orders and pretending to be Bobby sending them to that town to investigate...).

It has always felt to me that the show has subtly revealed more about the truth of the cosmos through death and Death than anything else. And that's on full display now in 1.12. Sue Ann's lies of omission about Roy's "powers," her manipulation of circumstance and her ensnarement of a reaper to do her will, choosing who lives and dies and literally "playing God," is it really any wonder to find out that Chuck has attempted to do the same on the highest cosmic scale from the start? He is a writer, after all, writing the entire story of the universe even as the universe fights to tell its own story. It's only by looking to the center and seeing the truth of the entire picture that they can free themselves from that fate, break the spell that's held them captive to Chuck's narrative and this endless cycle of sacrifice.

Heck I still love this episode. So much that I’ve let the next three episodes play out in the background... This is the entire spiral of the story played out in miniature, wrapped into a single episode.

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mrsprescott · 7 years

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I (will never) give up on us

Request: Nathan and the reader get into a fight which causes them to “Break up”.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word count: 1,710 A/n: this one is for @crszydrunkpotterhead. I am so sorry this took so long, I just have had a lot of personal things go down over the past few months. I hope you enjoy.

(Y/n) clenched her fists and her jaw tightened. She was taking short angry breaths and glaring at the man in front of her. “You know, I can’t help you Nathan if you shut me out and push me away. Is it your dad? Is he what’s making you like this today?”

“God, you’re such a nosy fucking bitch, even more so than Caulfield. I already told you to fuck off once.” He backed her up against the wall and his hands went on both sides of her head.

He leaned down until they were eye level, his cold ones met with her concerned ones. “Stay the fuck out of my business. I don’t need your help, never have and never will. Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong. It is really pathetic that you don’t realize how much of a useless burden you are. Now get the fuck out.”

Her face hardened, twisted up in a way he had never seen before. Her hands went up to his chest and she shoved him back. “You know what Nathan, I give up. I give up on you, on me, on fucking us. I am done. Done.” She slipped off the jacket she was wearing, his jacket, and threw it at him. “You can have every fucking thing back. Whatever you have in my dorm room will be at Victoria’s. You want me so un-involved in your life, so I guess this is granting a wish for you, huh? Every goddamn trace of me will be removed from yours.”

She marched over to the door and threw one last glance in his direction. Then she was gone, and he was left standing silently in the hallway. The gravity of the situation hadn’t quite hit him yet. He swallowed once, twice, three times before he stumbled backwards. He slid down the wall and his head fell forward. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t speak. His head started hurt. ‘Good job Nathan, you once again managed to fuck up the only good thing you had going.’ He stayed there for a good half an hour. He didn’t seem to notice the odd glances thrown his way by the boys coming in and out of the dorm. He didn’t even react when Warren pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. Hayden had to practically carry him into his room. He tried asking Nathan what was wrong, but he never got a response. After about an hour of that, he left, turning off the light before telling Nathan to call him if he needed to ‘blaze or anything’. *** (Y/n) felt the tears welling up in her eyes by the time she was finally back in her room. She was shaking as she curled up into a ball on her bed. She felt her phone vibrate and she took it out of her pocket. The texts filling up her screen all had to do with Nathan in some way. Some were asking if he was okay, others came from the group chat that Warren accidentally added her into. The ones from that chat, which just consisted of stupid insults like ‘twitch’, made her more angry than she already was. She was half tempted to go off on all of them but decided it would be best for her to ignore them. She clicked off of her messages and froze when her eyes landed on her wallpaper. The tears once again welled up, but this time they spilled over. Her favorite picture of him was her screensaver. It was from a few years back when Nathan was in the school’s production of ‘The Tempest’. Nathan had been Caliban. She remembered how adorable he had looked in his makeup. She snapped the candid while he was smiling after their miraculously good performance. She had waited for him to change out of his costume and change out of his makeup outside of the tent. She clapped for him again, and pulled him into a hug before he could object. Much to her surprise, he hugged her back. She gave him a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek (probably a little too close to his lips) before she dashed off. He asked her out the next day. Well, it might be more accurate to say Victoria pushed him (literally pushed him into her) to ask her out the next day. She threw her phone as far away from her as she could manage, guilt was building up in the pit of her stomach. She heard it connect with something, and two loud thuds as her phone and whatever she had just knocked off her closet shelf hit floor. “Mother fucker.” (Y/n) muttered under her breath. She got out from her fluffy blankets with a huff. Pictures, movie ticket stubs, and letters were scattered all over. She laughed she picked up her old copy of “Planet Earth: Ocean Deep”. Nathan had loved watching the whales that episode, and (Y/N) loved watching the genuine smile that graced his beautiful face.It had only been a few hours, but she already missed him. She stared at the cover of the film for probably five more minutes. That’s when it hit her. She knew how she was going to see that smile again. (Y/n) slipped on her running shoes and grabbed her keys off of her desk and the movie. She switched off the lights and slammed the door shut behind her. She could hear Victoria yelling something behind her, but she honestly could care less at that point. She stopped at the lighthouse first, and made her way to the gift shop that was near there. She grabbed two whale plushies from the shelf and placed them the counter with a smile. Next on her list was the diner. She popped her knuckles before she walked up to the counter. She was met with the smiling face of her favorite waitress: Joyce. “Well hello hun, what can I get for you today?” “Just the usual Joyce, two orders of waffles with a side of bacon and two Cokes. Oh, and I was wondering if I could get it to go?” “Any reason why you and your boyfriend won’t be eating here tonight?” “Nathan,” she paused “isn’t feeling too well so I thought I’d just bring it to him instead.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie. Or at least that’s what (Y/n) told herself. Joyce just winked at her and told her it was coming right up. She felt her phone buzz again and she slipped it out of her pocket. It was, as expected, from Vic. She was demanding to know what the hell was going on. (Y/n) sighed and hesitantly responded back that she and Nathan had fought and she was working on fixing it. She knew that would only cause her to be hit with a storm of more questions that she didn’t want to deal with so she just silenced her phone. She paid for the food and made her way back to her car. She took in a deep breath and drove back to the school. She got everything she needed from the seats of the vehicle and closed the door as softly as possible. She was certain David was lurking somewhere waiting to hassle any teen not in their dorms and didn’t want to alert him. She walked for a few moments but sprinted as fast as she could at the first sign of a flashlight. The boy’s dorm hall was empty, which was a plus. It was also surprisingly quiet for a Friday night, the only sound that (Y/n) heard was the floorboards creaking under her. She swallowed hard when she finally made it in front of his door. She knocked once, no answer. Twice, no answer. Three times, four, still no answer. She tried the handle and gave a mental cheer when it opened. That meant he was home. “Nathan?” (Y/n) called out into the darkness. She heard a sniffle. “(Y/n)?” “Yeah babe, it’s me. I’m going to turn the lights, okay.” She kicked the door shut and flipped the switch on the wall behind her. She stiffened when her eyes fell on him. His hair was all messy, his eyes were puffy and red, and she could see the watermarks tears had made his cheeks. She slipped off her shoes and left them by the door. “I bought some stuff, I hope that’s okay.” She lifted up the bags to show him and took a seat on his bed with him. “Nathan, I, uh, I wanted to say sorry. What I said was mean, and out of line. And I’m not done with you. I love you too much to ever be done with you and I’m so sorry. It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk and I should have respected that.” (Y/n)’s eyes were watering. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw Nathan’s head shaking ‘no’. “(Y/n), it’s my fault. I was being a dick all day and lashed out. I honestly don’t know why you even came back, you don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better.” Her hands cupped his cheeks and she stared into his blue eyes. “You complete me, Nathan. So please, never say that again.” Her lips captured his sweetly. A smile smile was on her face when she pulled away. The night passed pretty quickly after that. After many lip locks during planet earth, whale plushie fights, and jokingly swiping syrup on the other person’s face the two of them decided it was time to call it a night. (Y/n) grabbed Nathan’s headphones for him and he slipped them on after he laid his head on her chest; she drew lazy patterns on his back. He was about to press play on his whale songs when (Y/n) pressed a kiss on his forehead stopped him. “No matter how much we fight, or how bad it gets, I will never give up us.”

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #nathan prescott imagine #nathan prescott fanfiction #nathan prescott angst #nathan prescott fluff #life is strange #life is strange fanfiction #life is strange x reader #lis #lis fic

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sky-writes-daydreams · 6 years

Text

How They Met: Episode Skylar

A/N: Well... This is it. In case you’re new to this, Episode Skylar is the Alternate ending I planned. This one is supposed to be a lot happier than the original ending. This is the last part of How They Met. Thank you all for hanging around for this trip. It’s been a blast. :)

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @lola-mcevil13 @blackpaladinarchive @the-altissian-authors @the-wallflower-artist

I sat quietly in the back of the truck and just listened to the others. I knew Cor was going to be mad at me but I had to go. If there was even a chance to change their fate, I had to take it. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was a stupid move done by a desperate person. I didn’t care. I was willing to risk it all to even see if there was a chance I could keep him.

We got into the city and I kept my eyes out as we moved among the shadows. I knew a few hotspots and kept them away from them. We got into the abandoned tunnels easily and fought a few smaller ones down there before entering their safe spot. A lot of glaives were down here. They seemed to be in decent spirits, joking around and laughing with each other. It was nice to see honestly. One of the other ones pulled me into the fray and introduced me to a few and even let me join them on a mission outside in the city. I didn’t argue. I wanted to see how far I was from the citadel.

I was there for three hours before I was busted. We walked back in from a job and there was a new air. Then I heard.

“Marshall’s here!” I felt my heart drop then. He was waiting with that disapproving Dad look on his face. Gods I hate that look. I tired to walk past with my hood up but he got my arm and pulled me over.

“Nice try.” I growled a bit then and got free.

“Don’t even…. You’re not in charge of me.”

“Says who?”

“Me!” He sighed then.

“Skylar… there’s nothing you can do. You’re only hurting yourself damn it.”

“Then let me…. But I’ll be damned if I’m sitting still. I refuse to wait around for the worst when I know I can still help!” Cor sighed then and covered his face with a hand.

“Have you always been this stubborn?”

“Yeah. Just ask anyone. Cid even knows.”

“Fine… you can stay but you do not go anywhere near that citadel! That is not your fight!” I growled then and he glared at me.

“That is an order. You gonna dress like a glaive I’ll treat you like one.”

“Fine. I don’t care. Throw your worst at me. I might be rusty but I can fight.” He nodded then and let me walk off. I didn’t care as long as he didn’t try to send me back to lestallum.

I was sent out a lot with different groups to help deal with troublemakers and such. It was hard work but I had missed it. Time flew that way. I hardly realized it was getting late till most of them had gone back to lestallum to rest up or other depots. I walked into the mission room and Cor was there sitting in a chair by the table just relaxing. I sat across from him and he smiled.

“Stopping for now?”

“Might as well unless there’s something you need.” He chuckled then.

“If you’re still awake, watching the outer gate near the street would be great. Got a few last patrols out.” I nodded then and smiled.

“Thanks.” He shrugged then.

“I’ve been there…Wanted my men near Regis for the signing…. He said the people came first…. Wouldn’t let me argue.” I nodded then and sighed.

“He didn’t let me either… but I’m stubborn. I won’t give up…. Not yet at least.”

“Let me know when. I’ll buy.” I laughed then as he smiled gently. I smiled back shaking my head as I went to my new post. From here, I could see the stars and the huge sky above.

“I hope you hear me Ardyn…. I’m not running away…. I won’t let you do this alone…. I made a promise after all.” I smiled then feeling for my Ring.

“I’ll stand by you… Forevermore.”

I stayed out there for a while. I wasn’t cold or anything so it wasn’t an issue. Any demons came close and I dealt with them. The few remaining glaives came back and a few offered to replace me but I was fine. It was quiet out there and I could just exist and think. Finally Libertus came out. He had been asleep for a while after our last job. He chuckled seeing me out here.

“Still not tired huntress?” I smiled then and shook my head.

“Too edgy. Plus once you’re used to sleeping with someone close…. It’s hard to go back to being alone.”

“I hear that.” He sat down near me and slid over an ebony. I laughed seeing it and got it.

“Where the hell?”

“Machine about five blocks away. It was smashed and we looked. Fully stocked.” I laughed then and smiled.

“Don’t let iggy find out. He’ll drink you out of them in a week.” He smiled then as I got a drink. I loved them so much but it had been a while.

“So you really know them huh?”

“Who?”

“The king and his brothers.” I nodded then. I pulled my legs up then leaning on the wall.

“Not as well as I used to…. But yeah…. I ran into them over at the hammerhead garage. Regalia broke down and I had hit a demon with my jeep. So I walked over there and we met…. Helped them out at times. Traded info…. We got close. They were the first ones to know when it happened.” He nodded and smiled.

“When you fell for Ardyn?” I nodded then smiling.

“He…. He’s not what you’ve seen…. There is a good man in there. I can see him and…” I laughed a bit then looking up.

“I miss him….. He pulled away these past months knowing this was coming… He knew it would happen… but I didn’t care. I’d deal.” He nodded then and smiled.

“You really loved him huh?” I nodded then.

“Yeah…. Yeah I do. I know I probably shouldn’t admit that to you…. He’s the enemy…. But I really do love him... The happiest I’ve ever been was with him…. I don’t regret a single day…” Libertus chuckled then.

“It’s fine. Don’t hold the sins of the empire to the person… even if he was the chancellor he didn’t give the orders for the attacks…. He’s only got to explain for the past ten years.” I couldn’t help but laugh then, a real laugh. Libertus smiled and gently got my knee.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Finally getting you relaxed around us.”

“Oh shut it.” He chuckled then and I slowly got up stretching.

“I’m taking a walk around. Wanna come?”

“Nah. You go on. Just try to get some sleep soon ok?” I nodded and helped him up easily. He headed back in while I did one last sweep before joining them. I curled up on a small cot in a corner with my coat on and just closed my eyes. A little sleep never hurt anyone after all.

For a while It was just sleep. I didn’t feel anything or anyone. Then I felt a hand in my hair. I opened my eyes and it was him. I sat up quickly and was shocked. We were on a grassy hill surrounded by the most wonderful wildflowers. Ardyn smiled then and gently brushed back my hair.

“Sleep well?”

“... Is this a dream?” He shrugged then and I looked over at him. Those eyes. They were so perfectly hazel. No darkness was in them. Only love and laughter. He looked so young right now. I felt the tears come back before I hugged him tightly. He laughed then and hugged me back.

“Did my queen have a bad dream?” I nodded then not letting go.

“You left me… Ardyn you left me and I was so scared I’d never see you again! You broke your promise to me…”

“I would never skylar… I’m always going to be here for you…. I’m not leaving you.” I felt him hug me back and I just smiled. I missed those hugs so damn much. I was safe in those arms. Only I felt him move. I looked up and screamed. Scourge was pouring out of his face with a demonic smile on his face. The land around us had turned to black and demons were coming out of every flower. A light came from above then and Bahamut came out of the sky with his sword drawn. Even now, I tossed myself in front of ardyn screaming for him.

I jerked awake right as the sword hit my back. Cor jumped back and I quickly looked around.

“No….. Oh gods no.”

“Skylar?”

“I…. No…” I looked down and my cot was wet. I felt my face and I had been crying.

“What…?”

“You were dreaming… I woke up and heard you muttering something…. But then you cringed and started crying before almost slamming into the wall yelping…. What happened?” I looked to Cor then and he was honestly worried.

“I…. I was with him…. And things were fine! He was fine! But then…. Darkness… Everywhere. And Bahamut….” I felt my stomach then almost expecting there to be a wound. There was nothing there.

“He was going to kill him…. So I jumped in the way…. I…. I can’t just let him die… Not like that!” Cor nodded then and got my shoulder. I was shaking like mad right now and I felt sick.

“I get it… Come on… Maybe there’s someone who can help.” He helped me up then and I followed him into the main room. All I saw was the broad shoulders before I knew.

“Gladio!” He turned then and smiled.

“Hey princess.” I ran then and he was a bit shocked but still got me. I hugged him tightly then taking a deep breathe. I couldn’t help it.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare… Just… Freaked me out.”

“Gotcha… There’s probably a reason…” I backed up then and he moved. Noct was there. Older with greying hair and scruff on his once baby face. He was in the royal raiments. I took a step back then and He smiled.

“Hey.” I waved as I stumbled back and he stopped. I couldn’t believe it.

“You…. you got out.”

“Yeah… It… It was rough…”

“You….” I gave up then dropping my head as the tears fell. He had been right. Now it was here.

“Don’t do it…. Please…” I heard gladio gasp but Noctis sighed.

“Sky…”

“Please… There has to be another way!!! Why the hell do you two have to die!? Hasn’t enough blood been shed for Bahamut!?” I looked up then and He looked so sad.

“I’m sorry….” I just looked away then trying to stop crying.

“Not as sorry as I’m going to make that Dragonian…” I heard Ignis chuckle then and Noct smiled.

“Why do I seriously believe you would make good on that?” I shrugged then and he smiled gently and got my shoulder.

“Skylar… It’s not like I want this either… but sacrifices have to be made… The cards were always against us…” I nodded then and just hugged him tightly. He flinched but quickly relaxed into it and hugged me back.

“Give them hell Noct….” He nodded then.

“You too Hon…. Cor’s gonna need your help after this.. So will Iggy. Help them as much as you can… Keep fighting.” I laughed then.

“Like I could ever stop.” He chuckled then pulling away before wiping off a tear.

“I know… Hang out here for a while ok? Stay safe… That was the whole reason he sent you to hammerhead anyway… So you’d be safe.” I nodded then and tried to smile.

“You got it sir.” He chuckled then.

“Not you too.” Prompto laughed then and Gladio smiled.

“You do look a lot like your dad right now.”

“Oh gods don’t get started…” I smiled then as they started razzing him for his looks before they were distracted. I slipped out then and got back outside. Clouds had covered up the stars and a cold wind had picked up. I pulled my jacket closer then and sighed looking down at the ring on my finger. I had thought about taking it off so many times now and yet I never could make myself do it. We were over. He sent me away. The promise was broken.

I stayed outside listening to the reports from the glavies coming in and out. Noctis was having them make strategic strikes on bases here in the city to open up a way to the citadel. It was going well so far from what I could tell. A few Noticed me out here but didn’t say much. I was keeping the demons back to keep myself distracted. I was waiting for more to show up when Cor walked out.

“Sky.”

“Hm?”

“Orders.” I looked over and he smiled.

“We need a strong guard at one of the bases. It’s right next to the main way. If we can keep an eye in the sky, We can keep control.” I nodded then and smiled.

“I’m good at that.”

“We know. Noct is the one that suggested it .” I shook my head then sighing.

“Idiot.” Cor shrugged then.

“You’ll live. Come on.” I followed him back down and quickly grabbed my satchel from my spot and got a thicker jacket on before following him out.

It was a well lit Nif base. A fire was in the middle thanks to what looked like a robot exploding. It kept the whole area well lit and Glavies were dealing with Straggler demons as we came running up. I helped out as much as I could before we were able to close the gates and let some of the magic users get some distance on them. It didn’t take long before we were safe and they got a happier air going as they went to explore resources and such. I headed up to the tower on my own and found that someone had already left a chair up here for whoever was taking this spot. I could see cor talking with a few below about what they had found so far. Shards from the meteor were in crates behind them and after a while, someone came and grabbed them. I figured they would be taken to lestallum as soon as they could. I smiled watching and just keeping my eyes out.

I could see her. A single figure blending into the shadows on top of the tower. Only the occasional glint of metal from her shifting her sword would point her out to anyone trained to see it. Most of them had no clue she was even there. Only even as I came in and out of places guiding them on the best moves to make and what to do with the dead mts, I stopped seeing her. Looked like it was the best idea after all. She had finally fallen asleep again. I headed up after a while to check and she was leaned back with her feet on the rails completely out of it. I just chuckled and rubbed her head a bit.

“And you call Noct the Idiot…. You can’t even stay awake and yet you’re still trying to fight.” She barely even moved only to snuggle into the coats more. I backed off then and shook my head. It would be fine for now. We had time.

Everything was shaking. My feet dropped waking me up quickly and I sat up and looked. Fireballs were everywhere and the ground was shaking. I just jumped over the edge and quickly dropped rolling before taking off running towards it. A horrible demonic roar echoed suddenly and I had to cover my ears. It was so loud and honestly scared me. I heard it stop and I just kept going. I saw a lot of demons heading the same way though so finally I had to stop. There were too many. I fell back then and quickly saw some of the other glaives come running. They saw what I did and we had to fall back. There were too many. I was following them until I saw a sword I recognized going the other way. I stopped mid step and pivoted and looked. Cor was high tailing it.

“Cor!!!” He didn’t even look back. I sighed then and quickly got the second coat off and tossed it to someone passing by before following after the marshall. It took a few but soon I was caught up with him.

“What’s going on!?”

“Ardyn’s making a move!!! He’s got the old wall up around the palace!! Noct and them are stuck and demons are heading there fast!” I nodded then and soon got his arm and pulled.

“Follow me!” He nodded and I got him into a side alley and we kept running. Surprisingly for his old age, he was able to keep up and stay steady. I got us ahead of the horde and into open space. Then I could see it.

“Whoa!!!” Cor nodded then shocked. A three headed flaming mutt was trying to chew on Noctis and them. Noct kicked him back but I saw the attack charging up.

“No….” Cor moved before I could. I headed forward but ended up tripping over rubble as he launched a fireball at Noctis. I looked up just in time to see Cor take the blow for our king. It didn’t stop him. He wailed on that dog to the point he was launched into the air and I saw him stab down into the central head. The scream was ungodly as fuck but I had to deal. I launched potions to the boys as quick as I could before Cor landed off to the side. He couldn’t stand. Only it was enough to get their fighting spirit back. I ran to Cor then as they finished it off. He was damaged badly but still breathing. His sword was still in his hand and a smile was on his face.

“That…. It’s been a while.”

“Just shut up.” Cor nodded then and took the hi potion I pressed into his hand. He crushed it while I was searching for something stronger. I heard the boys coming over and Cor slowly got up. I looked up then and Noctis was smiling.

“You two really saved us…” I shrugged but Cor smiled a bit. He was still hurting and I could see why. He had a huge burn on his back.

“One chance so I didn’t outlive another king…. Thanks to her though, It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Good… I need to leave strong men in my place after all.” The others nodded then and I smiled.

“Plus… It’s not like we can let the uncle of the king die.” Cor stopped then and Noct chuckled.

“Damn straight.” I got up then and Noct smiled.

“Still overstocked?”

“Always.” He nodded then until we heard it. THe thundering footsteps of a thousand demons bearing down on us. I got Cor’s hand then and Noctis nodded.

“Go.” I nodded then and pulled the Marshall behind me as we ran. We couldn’t get caught up in that. Only I saw her before the boys did. I smiled gently and waved, As lady Luna appeared next to Gentiana smiling. Seems even now in death she was able to help her king.

We got out of sight right as the thunder started and I saw groups of demons died as Lighting hit them as Ramuh descended. Cor had to lean on a wall and soon took the elixir I handed over as we watched. All of them were coming to his aid. It was honestly Terrifying to see but I saw why. It took the power of the six to drop the king’s wall. I saw it shattering and turning to dust under their might. Cor chuckled then.

“Never seen something like that huh?” I nodded then. He smiled then. He was healed now and feeling a bit better it looked. They faded out afterwards and soon Luna was gone as well. I just sighed watching before stretching and turning.

“Don’t you want to stay?”

“This is their fight…. There’s nothing more we can do except keep a guard on the gates… but going off what Ramuh just did… I think moving those left to Lestallum is of bigger importance. Get them there to wait.”

“What about you?”

“I’m staying. What else would I do?” I looked over and he smiled.

“Not sure… Mind if I?” I shrugged then.

“Just don’t stop me.”

“Fair enough.” I smirked then and we headed back using the backways listening to the roar of flames and gods.

Once further away, you could barely tell there was a war going on at the Citadel. The ground didn’t shake anymore and you couldn’t smell the smoke from the fires. It honestly worried me. Would we even know when the end came? I didn’t focus on that once we got back. Everyone was here and scared. Cor stepped forward and sighed.

“Forces are to fall back to lestallum… Noctis is alright…. The wall has fallen and he is able to enter the Citadel… All that is left to do is wait.” I saw a few nod and start packing up. The others looked worried and Cor smiled.

“I’ll see you all once the dawn has come back.” THat caused a whole new air to enter the room and more even got up to help. I smiled and soon we were both helping them back up and head back to Lestallum. Hopefully we could head back with good news later because Cor and I, We were staying no matter what happened.

We saw the last truck leave. Libertus had stayed back and offered to take me with them but I had to refuse. I didn’t want to leave. I had to stay and see this through. He understood and gave me something before he left. It was a dagger made from Lucian metal. It was the mark of a glavie to have daggers made one from their homeland and the other here. Mine was one and the same. I accepted it gratefully and kept it on my belt. Cor just smiled and we headed back into the tunnels. He was healed from his injuries but now that it was just us, his age showed. He couldn’t keep up as well as he could before. Taking a blow like that would have drained anyone.

“Hey…. It’s not like we aren’t going to know… We’re here in the city right?”

“Yes… Why?”

“I’m worried about you is all… you look ready to pass out for a while. Maybe a little rest won’t kill anyone you know?” He chuckled then.

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m more than Capable.” He shrugged then and pointed ahead. There was an old building there still standing/

“You got binoculars?”

“Yeah.”

“You can see the citadel from there…. We get in, I’ll rest. You can keep an eye on the palace.”

“Works for me!” He chuckled then and shook his head.

“The benefits of youth I guess. Endless energy.” I laughed then. He didn’t have a clue.

We got into the building safe and sound and found a small camp someone had been using for the same reason. Cor got settled and was quickly out. I tried to hold out a while longer but in the end, sleep got the best of me. I was fighting my exhaustion so I could make sure others were safe first. It was just how I was.

Only this time I didn’t dream. Not till the end. I didn’t know how long I had been asleep when It seemed like I woke up alone. I was on the train again, the one we took the Gralea. I was completely alone but I could feel how cold it was. We had to be at Ghorovas Rift. I finally found an open door and I stepped out. It wasn’t snowing for once. The storm around Shiva was calm. I could see her in even better details now and she was honestly Gorgeous. I started slowly walking over when I heard snow crunch behind me. My sword summoned almost like Ardyn’s did and I stopped. That was odd. I refocused and stopped. It was a taller woman. She was walking in the snow in Sandals and a kimono with long sleeves. Her hair was straight black and gently moving in what little wind there was. This was totally strange. Her eyes opened then and I instantly relaxed. She just had this look to her. She wasn’t here to hurt me. I let my sword go away then and she smiled as the snow swirled around her. I didn’t understand and just looked around confused until It hit me. The cold wind wasn’t coming from the rift anymore. I turned towards it and stopped.

“Shiva….” The goddess was right there in front of me. I stepped back then and she just smiled.

“The king of kings has completed his task. The accursed has sought out peace. Awaken and seek them out.”

“Wait….” She just smiled then and suddenly I was back in my head and I woke up gasping. Cor was still asleep next to me and I looked out. Nothing was going on at the palace. I wasn’t going to ignore a goddess. I quickly shook cor awake and he looked over.

“What?”

“We’ve got to go. Now.” Right as the thunder rolled and Rain started to drop over Insomnia.

It was over. I felt the final blow and fell onto the ground. I could feel the rain hitting me but not for long. I faded away into the beyond. I didn’t feel. I didn’t hurt. The voices of darkness were still there but quieter. I felt almost human. It didn’t take long floating there in the ethereal before I saw it all. All of my memories. I watched silently as my past went rushing past before it came to those months with her. Those smiles brighter than the sun. Her eyes shining as she told me stories she learned traveling. The loving times I held her in my arms. I still wore the ring even in death it seemed. I looked down and just smiled. She would have a brighter future without me. I never should have pulled her into my dark world to begin with. That was my only regret. She deserved so much better than me.

Noctis finally showed up. He was just as lost as I was but we both knew how this had to end. I bowed to him as the rightful heir but when I looked again he wasn’t alone and something set it off. I felt the darkness fighting to take over and the change happened. I couldn’t fight it. Not until she touched me. The darkness screamed inside of my soul but I could feel the healing touch of Lunafreya even as the dark made my body jerk away. That move was the same one that got her killed. Only it wasn’t in control right now. Noctis was and it learned that as the weapons of the kings of yore returned to their owners and came at me. My own brother, the mystic was last. I felt his blow and just smiled. This was always going to be my fate.

Only… I didn’t disappear. Part of me was still here. I opened my eyes and Gazed up to an endless night sky. Stars were everywhere. It was dead silent until I heard the steps. I turned and came face to face with someone I hadn’t seen in eons. Somnus. The face so much like that of my nephew, The wavy dark hair. Those perfect Blue eyes.

“Brother.” He gave a gentle smile then as he stopped just out of arm’s reach.

“Somnus….” It felt so odd to speak in this area. It was so quiet. He took a half step forward.

“Ardyn…. It has been too long… I… I acted foolishly then. I should have stood by your side and helped you.... Instead of turning my back on you.” He knelt then and his Glaive came into my hand. I jumped but I understood. His fate was mine to decide. The real revenge could happen. Those who betrayed me could pay. I gripped it tightly until I remembered her. That worried look when I spoke of my past. The fear of my anger getting the best of me. If I gave in like this, Would it really fix anything? THat was what she had always asked me when I couldn’t handle it on my own. I threw the glavie to the side then and Somnus looked up as it clattered.

“Times have changed Brother…. I was hurt over your action deeply… But… There’s been someone who has helped to heal the wound. So I’m going to take a page from her book…” I offered him my hand and pulled him to his feet.

“I forgive you Somnus…. You did what you thought was best as king… It was an unfair choice for anyone to make.” He nodded then and for the last time, I felt my brother’s embrace as the weight of my anger left me. Revenge never fixed a thing. Only Forgiveness could open new paths.

This time, It truly did. I felt him disappear into the beyond and I fell once more. Only this time the landing was slower. I kept my feet and landed on a armored hand. Noctis was next to me. He seemed confused as well. Then we saw him. Bahamut rose before us as we slowly realized we were in his hands.

“A king of old… a king of new. Both were chosen and yet have suffered separate fates. Words have reached the gods in favor of our chosen kings.” We stopped then until the Voice started.

“Oh Dragonian… Keeper of fate and guiding light of our Star…. I ask as your oracle… and as one who loves him��. Is there no sparing Noctis? Is there nothing I can do to keep him from his fate…? Is there no other way to purge our star except by his death? Please…. Mother’s gone and brother….. Noctis is the only reason I have to keep fighting. THe hope of seeing him again one day allows me to continue your work so please…. Help me find another way.” Noctis couldn’t help it. I saw the agony on his face.

“Luna…” I heard whispered as tears fell down his face. I smiled gently until I heard her.

““Noct….. Please….. Tell me you’re there hon….. I did what you said…. I jumped…. But now the grounds coming out from under me and I’m scared…. I don’t know what to do…. He lied…. He rushed the darkness knowing damn well what that means for us….! It’s like he doesn’t even care how much I care about him Noct…. I get it!!! Immortality sucks!!! But you’d think he’d find a reason to stay! A reason to keep fighting!!! We did! You kept going for luna…. And I did for him….. So why can’t he do the same for me!? Am I not good enough!? Or is it that Damn Dragonian!? I hope you can fucking hear me Bahamut!!! You stupid dragon!!! You won’t get them that easily damn it!! Not Noctis and especially not Ardyn!! I don’t care who you are!!! They’re all I have!! They’re all I’ve got…. So please…. Don’t….. Stop it…. There has to be another way… There has to be another way.”

I couldn’t breathe. I could hear how much sorrow she had been hiding then. She had been terrified of this happening. She didn’t understand. There was no other way. We had to die to that the light could return. So hers could keep burning. I had done it all to give her a stronger future than she would have ever had with me otherwise. She wasn’t made to live in shadows. Neither of these girls were. Going off Noctis, He felt the same. We couldn’t stand the idea that our girls had been hiding that agony from us. Bahamut nodded once then.

“Pleas have been made for your lives….. Pleas that will not go unanswered. The darkness blight has been banished… Go. and live as men. Rule justly… For the stars light will always guide your lines.” I stared at the dragonian in shock until suddenly his hand came out from under us and we plummeted down into something hard and very very solid.

Cor didn’t argue. We took off running and he let me lead even as we got soaked by the sudden rain. We got there right as three iron Giants showed up and I pulled my sword. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto were outside and ready to fight but I wasn’t going to let them alone. I got right into the thick of it with them and even as I got thrown around taking blows to keep them on their feet, it was worth it. They were vanquished. Ignis came running over then and helped me up. I was limping but I would survive. I looked to him then.

“Where are they?”

“I…. I do not know…. We went inside and after fighting three kings of yore… We found ardyn on the throne….He hit us with his magic and we went out… Only woke up long enough to get out here and find Noctis… He went inside after…” I stared at him and quickly got free then before I saw it. Close by lying alone in the rain… Was Ardyn’s scarf.

“No….” I ran over then and picked it up. It was ripped and soaked but I knew it was his.

“No….” I held it tightly before spinning and trying to run. Cor caught me as soon as he could but I still fought hanging onto the scarf. He was trying to stop me from going into the Citadel. I just fought against him until Gladio traded and got me. He honestly bear hugged me as I lost it. I couldn’t tell if it was rain or Tears hitting my head as I gave up fighting. My hands dropped instead of hitting him as a sob escaped. It was over. We had lost them for good.

We stayed there on the steps of Citadel. The rain stopped slowly and we were all soaked. I still held onto his scarf and just stared at it. I couldn’t even speak. The words wouldn’t come. The others were in the same shape so an eerie silence laid over us. At least till Prompto saw something. He shook my leg and I looked up. He pointed out and I looked. There was someone coming. I got up then and Gladio looked.

“Sky?” I shook my head and slowly walked down and across the courtyard. Cor got my arm halfway then. I could see it better now because light was coming from behind them. Wait.. Light!? It was the dawn. Someone was coming towards us with the dawn. As they got closer, I went into pure shock.

“No…..” It looked like Ardyn. He was wet from the rain and missing his coat and scarf but it looked like Ardyn. I jerked trying to get free but Cor wouldn’t.

“Skylar… It’s a trap. Don’t….” I shook my head then.

“No…. It…. It’s not!” I laughed then. I knew that stride. He looked up then and smiled.

“Marshall, I recommend letting her go. She might accidently hurt you.” I heard the others gasp then and I took my chance. I got free dropping my sword and ran.

“Skylar!!!” Cor yelled but I knew better. It wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t a demon. It was him. Ardyn hurried up then and I could swear he was crying. Once I was in those arms though, I knew it for sure. I wrapped my arms around him tightly sobbing as he held me close.

“I’m sorry… I am so so sorry…. Oh gods Skylar….” I just shook my head then trying to get him to shut up. He laughed then before letting me go and kneeling. He was crying so much right now.

“I am so sorry…. I… I broke our promise… I left and… I’m sorry…. Please…. I heard what you asked of Bahamut!! I never meant to put such agony on you!” I smiled then gently touching his face before I grabbed his ear lobe and twisted. He yelped and lost his balance before I got him up by his shirt.

“You EVER think of pulling a stunt like that again Ardyn and I’ll break more than a promise, Do you understand me you jerk?! You pulled away from me months ago!! Do you even know how much I missed you!?” I let him go then pushing him back. He fell back and just looked at me before I tackled him into a hug. He chuckled then and held me back tightly.

“Missed you too hon.” I smiled then hugging him before kissing him happily. He kissed me back before getting us back up. I just stayed at his side then hanging on for life. We headed forward and I grabbed my sword. None of them were going for weapons. I didn’t want to fight them over this but if it came to that, I would. I heard someone behind us after a minute and I just moved. Ardyn couldn’t stop me and I came face to face with Noctis. Luna was back with their coats on and a look of pure shock. My sword was level with Noctis’s chest. He had reacted out of fear of me and his glavie was at my neck.

“Lay one finger on him and we’re down a king again….”

“Skylar…. Stop.” He made the glavie disappear and I felt Ardyn get my shoulder.

“Sky…. It’s ok.” I looked over then and had to stop. Something was off. I lowered my sword then and Ardyn smiled.

“Was wondering when you would notice.” I gently got his jaw then and looked him over but it was in his eyes. Once a darker Amber, They were now… pure.

“Oh my six….” He nodded then and smiled.

“It’s over… So stop threatening our king love. Noctis had his chance. It’s done.” Noctis nodded then. I smiled gently then before hugging ardyn with one arm.

“Do you blame me?”

“Not at all. It’s about time he had someone to knock sense into him.”

“Oh like you can talk Noct.” Luna laughed then and came closer. She was wearing both of their jackets. Her white dress was soaked from the rain. I smiled at her gently then.

“Glad to have you back my lady.”

“Glad to be back.” She Gave Noctis a smile then as she stood next to him. The others had slowly come forward and I let them come to their king. Ardyn kept an arm around me while I held on with one arm. I wasn’t letting him go for anything. We didn’t have to say anything. It was all there in how we hung onto each other for dear life.

The joy was there in the new daylight. Everyone here was at a loss for words. I had luna back and It was over. The Crystal was gone now along with the ring. Neither were needed now that our star had been purged. We sat on the steps of the citadel while Cor got in touch with the glaives and arranged transport back for us. He was by the gates talking with them. He hadn’t said anything about us being back yet. We wanted to surprise them. Yet the biggest surprise was next to us. I kept seeing Prompto look over and gladio did as well. Ardyn was close by but he was whispering mostly to Skylar. She wasn’t really talking but we did hear giggles at times. She was lying over on his shoulder with her hands on his arm. He finally noticed and smiled.

“What?” Prompto chuckled then.

“She always like this with you?” Gladio nodded then.

“She never seemed like the cuddly type.” Luna giggled then and Skylar smiled.

“Neither does luna. But Trust me… All Girls cuddle.” Luna nodded then.

“Making sure he’s not a dream?”

“Pretty much.” She nodded then and got my hand then.

“I completely understand.” I chuckled then and Ardyn smiled.

“Looks like we’re on leashes, Dear Noctis.”

“I think so as well… But it’s worth it.” The Girls smiled then and it was over. As long as we had them, I think we were going to be ok.

Our ride came and they got a huge surprise. Cor didn’t tell the Glaives Noctis was back. It only got better once we got to lestallum. Within the next week, a huge party was staged in lestallum. The king and Oracle were back. They had survived after all. The joy in the air was amazing and so much different from the dread that used to be there. Once it got out that Ardyn was free from his possession as well, he was easily accepted. It didn’t help when Noct called him uncle once on accident. That really helped. Rebuilds got started shortly after and we all did our parts. It was a lot of fun honestly. Got even better when we were sent out more often than others to take out what demons remained in dark places. It was just me and him out on the road helping the people when we could and taking out what few demons remained. Life was amazing. The nightmares we both had slowly faded away and by the time for Noctis and Luna to be married came, we were back to the most normal we had ever been. They had the wedding here in Lucis at the Citadel steps. It was the biggest party to be held there in a long time. The original dress had survived the attack from leviathan and Luna dazzled everyone in it. Everyone was invited and everyone that could showed up. It was such a happy occasion and marked the end of their journey. The peace of the nations was everywhere and what resistance there was quickly fell under cor’s and Gladio’s strategies. We had even been able to help make up for everything in Accordo and now had an open trade agreement. First Secretary was still in charge which meant we needed an ambassador to help keep the lines open. I was chosen for that. I didn’t understand why until she got up in my face and I didn’t back down or get scared. I just told her the truth. She even said once that she liked my attitude and it was refreshing to see someone wasn’t scared of her. That was probably why she let us have our wedding there in altissia.

We weren’t going to have a huge thing. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight like that and Ardyn was willing to respect that. Only Noctis and Clastura weren’t. After everything we had been through and the fact that Ardyn was still part of the royal line, They covered everything. The dress was from the same people that made my original one and fit me like a glove. I was so scared when the day came. I almost couldn’t breathe as I walked down into the Garden. We wanted to be married under the Roses in the Garden and they were more than willing to let it happen. He was waiting at the other end and suddenly… I wasn’t that scared. He was watching with this stunned look on his face and I just smiled trying to stop myself from running down there to him. Luna was my maid of honor as I had been for her and she was there smiling. I smiled back and soon I was there. He got my hand tightly and I just held it back. We didn’t exchange rings. There was no need. We had the ones we wanted. The Rest went by in a what felt like a blink and I barely remember saying I do. Then the veil was off and he was kissing me. I kissed him back happily as everyone cheered.

We spent most of our time there in the city. I loved altissia and all of it’s sights. He didn’t argue not even when I accidently pushed him into the ocean goofing off. He only pulled me in with him and we went for a late swim apparently. Upon Coming home in our own boat about a month later, a gift from cindy and cid, Noctis was there with keys. He handed them to me and smiled.

“Our wedding gift to you…. We’ve been working on the place for a while… Feel free to add to it…” I gave him a look then.

“Where?”

“The Cape.” I stopped then and he smiled.

“You don’t do well inside city walls… And Ardyn doesn’t either. You two know this and so did we. So… We fixed up the house. It’s more home than base now.” I nodded then and smiled.

“Thanks Noct.” He nodded then and smiled.

“Dock’s still under the Lighthouse. There’s room for both boats. Take care of Dad’s ok?”

“Duh. midnight joyrides!”

“Hey!” I laughed then before giving his cheek a kiss.

“Relax. It’ll be safe with us.” He nodded then and smiled.

“We’ll swing by and visit later ok?”

“Same to you.” He chuckled then.

“If you’re not too busy.” I gasped then and he smiled. It was well known that by now, they were expecting a heir. I just shook my head and got into the captain’s seat. Noctis waved and Ardyn waved back confused. I didn’t explain until we were docking under the lighthouse.

Three months passed easily there. We’ve done a little work around here like painting and changing fixtures around. The kitchen is huge and completely filled with anything we could need. Ignis had left us his normal copies of his cookbooks as a gift. He had braille ones now so he could still use them if they were needed. We had cleaned up the Garden and had a steady business of carrots going to the market in lestallum. Then the lighthouse. We had it rebuilt and extended the deck around the front. I was heading up with two cups of hot cocoa just humming to myself. We loved watching the sunset from up here over Eos. The elevator stopped at the top and I easily walked around. We had a little patio set up here. Ardyn was in his chair reading over one of my letter from Altissia. He looked up when he heard me and I smiled putting down the cup before stealing my letter back.

“Hey. My business.”

“Sorry Love. I was curious… She’s a rather demanding person isn’t she? Wanting us back next week already?”

“Yeah I know. I’ve called and told her no way. When she asked why, I told her about Ignis opening up the restaurant and she understood. Said she might come here instead.” He chuckled then and I curled up in my chair happily. He didn’t dress so formally these days unless we had business. Just some nice black pants with his boots and a loose shirt. I was in jeans with one of his other shirts on and looked out. I sighed gently and he looked over.

“You ok?” I nodded then and smiled.

“Perfect… Absolutely perfect… Just… Thinking back…” He nodded then leaning back getting a drink.

“Been through a lot huh?”

“More coming too.” He nodded then and smiled.

“Going to stay with me? Not scared?” I laughed a bit then.

“Not scared anymore, you know that. I’ll always stand by you Ardyn.”

“Forever?”

“Forever and more.” He smiled then and reached out for my hand. I got his happily as I moved closer. We could get through anything as long as we were together. Even if we did add to our little family. I wasn’t going to tell him I was already thinking of us needing a nursery in the near future.

#writing #sky writes #ardyn izunia #ardyn x oc #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #HTM

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johnboothus · 3 years

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Next Round: Jordan Salcito Saw the Canned Cocktail Future

On this episode of “Next Round,” host Zach Geballe chats with Jordan Salcito, founder of Ramona, to discuss her pioneering canned Spritz brand. Salicto details her transition from working in hospitality, to becoming a sommelier, to finally starting her own brand. She explains how working in fine dining in New York and working harvests in Italy and Patagonia gave her the skills and knowledge she needed to launch Ramona.

Geballe explains that, though RTDs and canned wines are booming today, Ramona was one of the first brands to explore the trend of canned wine products when it came to market in 2016. Salcito explains how Ramona products fill a void in the market and reveals which new flavor Ramona is debuting this summer.

Tune in and visit https://www.drinkramona.com/ to learn more.

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Or Check out the Conversation Here

Zach Geballe: From Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe. And this is a “VinePair Podcast” “Next Round” conversation. We bring you these episodes in between our regular podcasts so that we can explore a range of issues and stories in the drinks world. Today, I’m speaking with sommelier and founder of Ramona, Jordan Salcito. Thanks so much for taking the time.

Jordan Salcito: Thank you so much for including me in this episode. I’m very happy to be here.

Z: Yeah. I imagine that lots of our listeners are plenty familiar with Ramona, but they may not have been familiar with the backstory or your backstory. If you don’t mind, can you talk to us a little bit about how you got into the wine industry? Then, in particular, how and why this product, which at the time I think was pretty out there for what wine was going to be or a canned spritz. Now, we take this for granted since there’s an industry here so maybe just a backstory to start out.

J: Of course. I got into the wine industry accidentally while thinking that I wanted to pursue a career in writing about restaurants for The New York Times. I was cooking at the restaurant Daniel at the time. I think in retrospect, I hadn’t understood enough of the world to even dream about what working in wine could look like. Actually, the first time I really had a conversation with Daniel Boulud was after work one night. I had a sweet tooth and when you’re working on the line of a kitchen, you go for a long time without really eating. You don’t eat a meal sitting down ever. At least, nobody did back in those days. After service, before I would walk home, I would check in at the kitchen because the pastry team would always leave out delicious extra pastries. On this one particular night, I had a book with me, and coincidentally, Daniel Boulud walked in and he had a bottle of 1989 Jaboulet La Chapelle. He said, “Who are you, what’s your name, what are you doing here, and do you like wine?” He was so high-energy. Anyway, that led to Daniel being very curious. It was a thing that I always loved about that restaurant and about Daniel. He really values curiosity. He starts flipping through. At the time, one of my jobs was to wrap the black bass papillote and these potato scales. He stumbles upon a page of a dish, a red mullet with potato scales by Paul Marcus. It turns out that dish was the dish that inspired the signature dish that I was in charge of cooking. Anyway, Daniel poured a glass of this wine and we ended up talking for a long time. Ever since then, throughout the rest of my duration there, he really looked out for people who he could tell cared about and tried to give them an opportunity to do the thing that they were interested in doing. An opportunity came to work at the La Paulee des Neiges. It was this Burgundian wine event that was happening every year. With this one particular year, it was only happening in January in Aspen, Colo. I got the invitation to work this event and then I was told, “No, actually, we don’t have a budget for you.” I said, “If I can get myself there and work for free, can I do it?” They said, “Sure.” That was the moment for me where I was able to line up harvest in Burgundy for later that fall. My job during that particular harvest was really picking the grapes, being out in the vines every day for about two weeks straight. I remember by day eight or nine, I couldn’t stand up straight at the end of the day because you’re basically just hunched over carrying a bucket. A bucket of these wet, dripping grapes because 2006 was not a very sunny year during harvest, and it was truly backbreaking. It was also so revelatory, and it was amazing to be in the vineyards that I had read about and finally start to understand how the light hits a vineyard differently based on its exposure to the sun. How the insects that are in one vineyard are completely different from one a few yards over. That was when the practical application started to help the intellectual peace that you can read about in books. It’s when it all started coming together for me. Then, I would work in a winery after the picking because after the last grapes are picked, they’re still processing what is happening in the winery. I think that’s when it all just started coming together for me. I realized, after deciding to pursue this direction and wine, that the one true story I have of my own paternal grandfather, who I never met, is that he used to make wine in his basement with my dad. My grandfather died when my dad was 13 and so this is the one memory that my grandfather shared or that my father shares with my grandfather. It took years later to realize that there is this through-line for me of wine with this superpower ability to bring us together. To bring people together who might not have found themselves in a room or around a table otherwise. Even beyond that, and especially now with Covid, it’s amazing how we can feel a connection to a place by drinking a bottle of wine from there, and it’s almost as if we can transform ourselves. I think really it was that harvest that made me realize that I wanted to spend my life focused on wine in various ways. I started working harvest every year, usually in Burgundy. I would sometimes go to another region after that. I went to Tuscany, starting in 2008 after the harvest in Burgundy, and it was something that I loved to do. In 2007, I took a part-time sommelier position at Nick & Toni’s out in East Hampton. The owner or rather the general manager was a woman named Bonnie Munshin. She gave me a shot, and the person that was supposed to be full-time had a no-show on Memorial Day weekend. It was the best thing ever for me because it was a chance to step up but it was a natural disaster for her at the moment. She gave me this chance and that led to a full-time position at Eleven Madison Park after harvest that fall. I think what I started to realize is any time I would work in a restaurant, I would say, “Look, I just want you to know this thing that I do in the fall is harvest every year, and it will seem inconvenient for a week or so, but I promise you, I’ll come back and I’ll be a better sommelier. I’ll add value to the guests who come in here.” That proved to be true. I was able to develop this understanding of different approaches to production. There were some years where I couldn’t go to Burgundy because we were opening a new restaurant and it was 2011. I didn’t work a fall harvest that year, but I went to Patagonia Bodega Chacra the following February, and just the more I saw and noticed, the more through-lines I realized connected wines together with a value system. The delicious wines that I found really inspiring all had — whether the soil was slate or clay or limestone or whether the country was Italy, France, Germany, or Patagonia — there was this interesting through-line of wines that had a similar value system of transparency. Of course, prioritizing taste and deliciousness, but also it was more than that. Fast forward to 2015 when at that time I was overseeing the beverage programs for David Chang’s Momofuku restaurants. I began there in 2013, and the mandate that David gave me at the time was to build a wine program. People don’t really associate Momofuku with wine, and he wanted that to change. He understood there’s this community out there of wine people, and it’s not dissimilar to the community of chefs that he didn’t love. That was an amazing mandate. The other thing he said was, “You already know the rules, so now break them.” I think that permission was just this big breath of fresh air. Growing up, my mom had always prioritized the arts for my sisters and me. My dad’s a lawyer, so we had the pragmatic side, too. I think it was almost a permission to think like a child again in a good way. Permission to not be beholden to the machine. A lot of restaurants that are great and were great, there’s no room for any creativity or independent thought. You just have to be part of the machine in order for the system to work. This was different in a way that was so invigorating, and I remember having this idea that I wanted to call it Thunder Picho. I was reading a book by Paul Lukacs. He’s brilliant. He wrote a book called “American Vintage.” It’s one of my favorite books about wine, period. It basically tracks America’s relationship with wine and going all the way back to Thomas Jefferson and trying to plant Hermitage wines in Monticello and not realizing why they would die all the time. Then, fast forwarding to a sparkling Catawba was the first great American wine. Of course, phylloxera, when we realized that we could just graft onto American rootstock. Then, Prohibition and then World War I, followed by World War II. Actually, it was fascinating for me to read the similarities between the Mondavi family and the Gallo family. They had very different approaches. The Mondavi family was spearheaded by Robert Mondavi, who had gone to France and understood that there were these excellent French chateaux in Bordeaux and he wanted to model his winery and wine culture in America after that. Whereas you have Gallo, and they want to focus on data and give people what they want. You end up with Robert Mondavi starting to craft his legacy. At the same time, you have the Gallo brothers creating Thunderbird, which then became the No. 1 wine in the U.S. The ingredients were effectively white port with lemon juice concentrate. That’s so bad and terrible, but yet there’s something interesting. America has not yet figured it out. I think we’re getting there with globalization, Instagram, and conversation. It’s so exciting to see that now great wine is made everywhere and can be made anywhere with the value system in place. I think for me it was like, “Why?” I just thought that piece of history was interesting and then coupled that with moments in Italy harvest. I remember the first time I ever had an Aperol Spritz, and it was in the piazza of Montalcino in 2008 after a really dismal harvest, whereas the Burgundy harvest was picture perfect. Everyone’s been doing this for hundreds of years and the stories are amazing. Italy was the opposite for me. We were helping out my husband’s then-business partner, who was actually a bridge player, but had bought this estate in Montalcino and didn’t know anything about making wine. He said, “Hey, I have a tournament, can you guys just make this wine for me?” We didn’t even know what to do here. This is not something we’re qualified for, and we’re happy to help but please, nobody has any expectations here.” It was a very rainy year. The tractor fell over. There was no actual winery. We had a tarp that was over the sorting table and we were the only ones with a sorting table. We saw Burgundy do this and it’s really important so we thought we should try it here, too. Anyway, it was a very difficult harvest and the moment of respite was an afternoon Aperol Spritz and it was brightly colored and happy and not too bitter, but not too sweet. Fast forward to 2013-2014, what if we do some more digging here? What even is the wine cooler? I’ve never been a beer person. I’ve never found beer delicious, despite many college parties in which I wish that I had. I remember at some point when I was 21, somebody introduced me to wine coolers, and I was intrigued by them because they were less bad-tasting than cheap beer to me, to my palate. I think it took a lot of time for me to realize and just have confidence in my palate. At this point, I had passed the blind-tasting master sommelier exam. I was going this very educated route, and I felt that I can’t be the only person that still thinks beer is terrible, and there’s nothing out there. Now that I know enough about production, why is there not something meant for casual moments that I’m personally willing to consume? That was how the idea for Ramona started. I know that’s a very long-winded answer to your question, but yeah, that is basically the idea and the decision to start. It happened in 2015. We had just gotten the nomination for outstanding wine service at Co. I remember Bobby Stucky, who’s an amazing friend and mentor, had come in with his wife Donette and his general manager from Frasca. He’s also in charge of service at the Co, and he said the tasting menu that I just experienced at Co is the best I have had in recent memory. What you’re doing here is extraordinary, congratulations. Then, I remember a week after that is when I left for the master sommelier exam, and I had already passed the tasting. I had passed theory that year, which was the one I had been so nervous about, and I passed it in a way that finally felt so easy. I missed the service exam by one table, and it was a table of people who have never seen me work in a restaurant that I personally don’t know. The feedback that I was given was not that I ran out of time because I didn’t or that I didn’t answer the questions right because I had, it was that in their estimation, I didn’t seem like myself to them. It was just this one particular table, and I remember it was a big gut punch. It took me a little while to process it all. Then the next week, I found out I was pregnant with our son Henry, and that wasn’t planned. The universe decided that you thought you were going in this direction, but now your plans have changed. It was an opportunity to say, “Wait a minute, is the hill I’m going to die on trying to be more like myself to a group of people that don’t work in restaurants and never seen me work in a restaurant? Do I even want that feedback? Is there any way in which more work or more preparation could make me seem more like myself to a group of people who have no idea who I am or what I seem like?” That was an easy moment to course-correct and do this thing that I had felt was a void in the market for a while. The timing was good. The change was happening and I either could take some control over what that change would look like or not. And I chose the former.

Z: I want to follow up on one piece here, which is that you mentioned this idea that maybe your initial conception of Ramona was something that had a lineage that it shared with wine coolers. You saw it as a very casual drinking experience. Is that because from the jump you were thinking, “This is going to be a canned beverage?” Especially when you were probably thinking about the conception of what a wine-based product in a can was, there weren’t very many and they were definitely not seen as anything other than very casual beverages. Was it just the format that led you to that? Or since you wanted something casual, of course it’s going to go in a can?

J: Totally. It was more the latter, although cans were never obvious to me until we decided to go with them. It was more like a beverage. The beverage didn’t exist, and I just saw this big void. To your point about wine coolers, I would say that Ramona winks at wine coolers, but I would not say we were inspired directly.

Z: That is fair, I understand.

J: Yeah, wine coolers are a bad American version of spritz anyway. If you go down that rabbit hole, the ancient Romans and Greeks used to add water and flavorings to their wine. Nobody drank wine undiluted, so there is a fun lineage, if you want to go down that rabbit hole. As much as I was studying fine wine and as much as my life involved fine wine, what I found that I wanted to drink a lot of the time was something low in alcohol and refreshing and, in my estimation, was also delicious. Also, it adhered to a value system that was important to me. When I’d go out to the beach and have a lobster roll, the options were beer or a really cheaply made glass of rosé that I wasn’t interested in drinking. Then, to your point about wine coolers, I did some research and wine coolers were a massive category in the U.S. in the ‘80s, up until the early ‘90s. If you look at what happened, the beer lobby very sadly and successfully kneecapped wine coolers with a law that Congress passed in 1992, quintupling the excise tax on wine-based products in favor of malt. I love that Ramona was so early to the game, and I love that to this day because there are so many things in cans now. The thing that shocks me honestly is that I really want the rest of the canned industry to catch up and start producing things organically. If they’re *going to use malt, which is a horrible industry because everything is sugar cane-based. I know a lot more about that than I should because of my sister, who runs an NGO that pushes multinational corporations to respect human rights. There’s an opportunity for businesses to make decisions that impact the world on a positive note, and I hope we see more of that. As far as cans go, initially, my vision for this was that they would be in a bottle. Yet, the more I started researching and the more that I wanted to really lean into how we as a business make decisions that I’m proud of, aluminum is the most recycled material — above glass, above plastic, above anything. On top of that, it has a much lower carbon footprint than tracking glass all over or plastic all over. It felt like the right environmental decision. It was risky because I remember people saying, “Look, nobody’s going to know where to put this on the shelf” and “Where does this even go?” I think it was fortuitous that there was enough of a groundswell among cans as a vessel, and that was something that worked out for us. However, I would be lying if I said that the vision was always the can. The vision was always the product inside of the can. The can just made the most sense in terms of alignment with our value system.

Z: I think what’s interesting about the Ramona products is that they have, in my experience, adhered pretty close to this idea of very classic Italian spritz, at least in terms of their flavor profile. I’m sure that there have been times, suggestions, and maybe even prototypes of something outside this very citrus-centric flavor profile. Have you come close to expanding? What stops you if you have? Or are you just very content with the core flavor set?

J: Good question. This is actually a good lead-in to our flavor that we will be releasing this summer.

Z: Oh, I didn’t even know about this. Breaking news here on the podcast.

J: Breaking news, exactly. I just had a production call this morning. I wish we were going to release it sooner, but it looks like it’s probably going to be July. This remains true, but my goal is always, “How we can make things that I, as a very particular consumer, am willing and excited to drink regularly?” One way that we took inspiration was from that Aperol Spritz. The most natural way to do that back when I was tinkering with recipes was through grapefruit as a flavor, because it is both bitter, sweet, and a little salty. It’s also balanced and refreshing, so that’s where we started working with an extract made from organic grapefruits. Then really to that point, if that’s our inspiration for this particular flavor profile, what are the other flavor profiles that we want to consider? Then, it was just a whole bunch of tinkering. The thing we always lead with is, what is delicious? Of course, delicious is subjective, but what is delicious to us and what is missing. That led us to produce lemon from organic Sicilian lemons. We did a test batch here in the U.S., and that’s where I was introduced to a chemical called velcorin. I was told we could use velcorin and this was on canning day. I had spent my savings on everything, and it took a year to get to this point. Then, I learned on canning day that the canning facility wants to use velcorin or potassium sorbate to make them shelf-stable. In potassium sorbate, there’s a known carcinogen on the Whole Foods no-fly list and I just knew I didn’t want to touch that. Of course, I said, what about sterile filtration? What about all these other things? Those were not options at this particular moment in time. Anyway, this was when I learned what velcorin was. It’s a neurotoxin for the first 24 hours. It has to be administered with a hazmat suit. It is growing in popularity and does not have to be disclosed. What I’ve learned from my friends in Napa is that a lot of natural wines will just nuke the wine with velcorin, and nobody has to know, and then it doesn’t explode on the shelf. In Italy, we moved production and the definitive factor for me was how do we not have to use something weird like this? In Italy, we just pasteurize a wine in warm water. That’s when I became really committed to working with Italian ingredients, and Italy has its fair share of problems and frustrations. However, one thing they are going to prioritize is what they eat and what they drink. There’s just so much emphasis on that, which I really love and respect, and that’s how we ended up with Meyer Lemon. As we were tinkering, we definitely had recipes in the works for berry-flavored things. At the end of the day, it had to be delicious. That’s how we landed on Blood Orange, but then we didn’t release a new flavor. Last year, we did the Dry Grapefruit which is the drier, slightly lower in alcohol, 90-calorie version of the ruby grapefruit. However, I had a recipe that I have been tinkering with and working on for a very long time. Instead of taking its inspiration from southern Italy and Sicily, it takes its inspiration from northern Italy and Venice. Basically, the Aperol Spritz, minus the FD&C Red 40, minus the cold tar, minus the 279 grams of sugar per liter. Aperol as a brand is brilliant. Aperol as a product is just so fun and brightly colored. I say Aperol, but Aperol is part of its own lineage that emerged during the Italian futurist art movement, which I just learned. The futurist art movement actually produced the Russian constructivist movement, which our label design is inspired by. This notion that fine art belongs to everyone and it can be on a poster and it can be in an alley. It doesn’t have to live in a gold frame in a museum. That was the reason for Ramona. You can be at the beach, you can be on a hike, you can have a sandwich, you can be at home or you can be at a restaurant, and you can have a beverage for this any type of moment that adheres to a value system of a lot of these great wines. So, our new flavor is called Amarino. Basically, “ino” means a little bit of Amaro, and it’s bitter and it is this beautiful bright color. It is orange in color, with a bitter orange peel, and bitter oranges being a major profile, but it’s a recipe with a lot of different layers and we will finally be able to release that in the summer.

Z: Excellent. I have a couple of other questions for you. On “Next Round,” we’ve interviewed and talked to lots of people about sommeliers and other restaurant professionals who have either actually done what you’ve done to some extent or are intrigued by this idea of creating a product, creating a brand, and leaving the restaurant industry. You talked about this before, this moment in your career, this inflection point where things went one way instead of another. Do you miss the restaurant life? Can you go away, or is it still a siren song for you?

J: For me, I was able to achieve what I set out to achieve, and I had an amazing set of experiences through the restaurant world. It’s amazing how I remember being terrified of parenthood, and there were so many skills that actually just translated over really well. You’re already used to not sleeping very much. You’re already used to doing things ambidextrously and eating out of a quart container really fast.

Z: Also, used to lots and lots of complaining.

J: Yes, lots of complaining. Nothing ever goes the way that you think it will. You just get used to pivoting and thinking on your feet. I would say for me, it coincided perfectly with the evolution of my life, my family’s needs, and my own desire to be more present. My son Henry was born in January 2016. I had never intended to use maternity leave to focus on Ramona, but I found I had to. As restaurant people, we are busy all the time. We’re used to doing many things at once, and a baby sleeps a lot.

Z: Yeah, that is true.

J: I had a lot of time to really focus on what it is that I want. The most important question is, “Am I doing a thing that fills a genuine need?” With any decision that we make, whether it’s a flavor or anything, what is the reason behind it? Why are we doing this? Does the world need this thing? Do we believe in what we’re doing? Are we adding to the conversation or are we just doing something that already exists? That’s something we try to be really considerate of, but I think as far as restaurants, I was really fortunate to work in them during a period of my life where it really made a lot of sense for my life. My husband was in the restaurant industry at the time. He is no longer as of a couple of years ago, but it was just part of life. I think it probably shifted mid- to late-2015, where the things that I hoped to be able to do, I have been able to achieve. It was time for a new adventure and a new journey. I believe I had a full life in restaurants, but I don’t miss the floor.

J: Gotcha. And one last question for you, Jordan. Speaking of additional things you’re doing, you also have a podcast — you’re a veteran of this medium — called “Opening Up.” Can you talk a little bit about how that came to be? I’m led to believe that there’s another season coming, is that right?

J: Yes, exactly. “Opening Up” launched last September, and we decided to limit it to 10 episodes and ensure that it goes back to that through-line of wine as this connective tissue. There are so many wonderful people that have fallen in love with wine and have their own stories to tell. It was something that I had hoped to do for a while and had been on the table in conversations for a while. Then last year with Covid, it really needed to launch then, because that was a moment where nobody was seeing anybody they didn’t live with. It was an opportunity to really have these conversations from wherever we were. I loved and appreciated the opportunity to have those conversations. As we were trying to figure out the cadence, we decided we do want to have our seasons launch in the fall, and I like to think of Ramona as season-less. However, our busiest seasons tend to be spring and summer, so it’s a really nice way to ease into fall and winter and just to stay in touch with people who also love wine.

Z: Very cool. It definitely seems from a few episodes I listened to that the wine is the nominal point of connection for you and the guest. It is definitely not a conversation exclusively about wine, which, given the interesting set of people you have on, is very cool.

J: Oh, thank you.

Z: I mean, not that there’s any shortage of podcasts out there. You all should be listening to all of our VinePair podcasts for one, but this is definitely worth checking out as well — especially because I know some of you out there have more commute times ahead of you as people actually go back to work. Jordan, I really want to thank you for your time. It’s been a pleasure to talk to you and hear a little bit about this pioneering product. Some of the other people out there making canned wine products may not even be aware of the debt they owe Ramona. I think you guys really showed that you could do this in that format and have it be both delicious and also taken seriously. I think that was a big hurdle for canned wine products to get over because, as I mentioned before, it was definitely not the case five, six years ago when you guys launched.

J: Zach, thank you so much for these kind words and really for the opportunity to be part of this conversation and to be part of the program and also meet your listeners in this way. It’s been a pleasure. I have a great deal of respect for you and what you have built. I am really happy to have the time to connect here.

Thanks so much for listening to the “VinePair Podcast.” If you love this show as much as we love making it, then please give us a rating or review on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, or wherever it is you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show.

Now for the credits, VinePair is produced and recorded in New York City and in Seattle, Wash., by myself and Zach Geballe, who does all the editing and loves to get the credit. Also, I would love to give a special shout-out to my VinePair co-founder, Josh Malin, for helping make all this possible and also to Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tastings director who is additionally a producer on the show. I also want to, of course, thank every other member of the VinePair team who are instrumental in all of the ideas that go into making the show every week. Thanks so much for listening, and we’ll see you again.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Next Round: Jordan Salcito Saw the Canned Cocktail Future appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/jordan-salcito-ramona-canned-cocktails/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/next-round-jordan-salcito-saw-the-canned-cocktail-future

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wineanddinosaur · 3 years

Text

Next Round: Jordan Salcito Saw the Canned Cocktail Future

Tune in and visit https://www.drinkramona.com/ to learn more.

Listen Online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or Check out the Conversation Here

Jordan Salcito: Thank you so much for including me in this episode. I’m very happy to be here.

Z: That is fair, I understand.

J: Good question. This is actually a good lead-in to our flavor that we will be releasing this summer.

Z: Oh, I didn’t even know about this. Breaking news here on the podcast.

Z: Also, used to lots and lots of complaining.

Z: Yeah, that is true.

J: Oh, thank you.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Next Round: Jordan Salcito Saw the Canned Cocktail Future appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/jordan-salcito-ramona-canned-cocktails/

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 7 years

Text

Chapter 5: On The Subject Of Expectations

Becoming The Mask

"Have you ever even held a sword before?" Draal demanded the next night.

"I'm more of a knife guy."

Jim could pass that off as a cooking joke if questioned, but it was true. The scale of the blade he had to work with now was throwing him off almost as badly as fighting in humanoid form.

He was confident enough that Draal wouldn't kill him – or, at least, that Blinky and AAARRRGGHH wouldn't stand idly by and let Draal kill him – that he offered the sword to the troll.

"Show me how I'm supposed to hold it, then."

Draal's eyes widened and he actually took half a step back.

"Ah, Master Jim," Blinky cautioned from the sidelines, "only a Trollhunter can wield the Sword of Daylight."

Jim ignored this and held the sword flat across both hands. Draal took it, slowly, cautiously, with more fear and reverence in his expression than Jim thought the sword really warranted even if it was magic. When Draal raised the blade above his head, it shone blue, and vanished from his hand in a burst of glowing smoke. It reappeared in Jim's hand, like the amulet had when he first tried to leave it with Stricklander.

"The sword is bound to the amulet," said Blinky. "It is not that only the Trollhunter may wield it, but that only the Trollhunter can."

Draal and Jim both winced.

"I'm … sorry," said Jim.

Draal sighed heavily. He walked over to the side of the Forge. Jim thought at first that he was storming off to be alone with his thoughts, but Draal came back with a double-pronged spear, or maybe a pole arm, from the weapons rack. He tested a few strikes against the empty air, and then pointed it at Jim.

"Your blade is but an extension of your body," he said sternly. "And your body, an extension of your eyes. Mimic my movements, Trollhunter."

"I'm almost impressed," said Draal, a few nights later. "I didn't think a fleshbag could survive this level of pummelling."

"You actually … getting tired?" Jim tried to taunt. It was ruined by his wheezing. Draal had successfully run him over three times so far in this match. "Admit it … I'm … wearing you down."

Draal laughed at him.

"Trollhunter!" A shouting woman ran into the Forge, waving her arms above her head. "TROLLHUNTER!" Blinky and AAARRRGGHH rushed to her.

"What is it? Speak, Bagdwella!"

She panted. Jim walked over, trying not to stumble. Draal gave him a sideways glance that could be creatively interpreted as concern.

"Rr … ruh … rogue gnome!"

"So, I learned something interesting about the Amulet last night. Apparently the teleportation thing it was doing is only if the Trollhunter rejects it. If somebody steals it, it doesn't just poof back to me."

"Someone stole the Amulet?"

"I got it back." He'd tempted the creature out of the hole with a candy bar, and stuffed it into a sack and stuffed the sack into a battered metal lunchbox. In order to retrieve her own things, the shopkeeper had been willing to have the wall carved open to get to the gnome's stash. "I'm just saying, that's kind of a counter-intuitive design feature. Thought it might come in handy when Bular kills me and the Amulet picks somebody else."

"Bular is not going to kill you."

It was comforting to hear Stricklander say that. Hearing that stern, parental tone, Jim could almost believe that he could turn to the more experienced Changeling for protection from Gunmar's son, and actually expect to receive that protection.

After school, he was faced with the gnome problem again.

It was secured in its box and very loudly unhappy about it. It had given up shouting and crashing into the walls, and was now singing a lament to the accompaniment of its odd guitar, or whatever the instrument was.

Jim had never had a pet, but the gnome's earlier behaviour reminded him of things he'd heard about ferrets. He was going to feel bad over killing the cute, clever little thief. He really should have done it already, but … as one being that trolls considered vermin to another, he wasn't sure he could go through with it. He hadn't directly, personally killed anything since leaving the Darklands.

He put it off by doing homework and reading more troll lore. Eventually the gnome went quiet. Jim thought it fell asleep.

Considering he had compared it to a ferret earlier, he should have expected it to escape.

Considering how up-and-down his luck had been lately, he really should have expected it to get out his window, drop off the porch roof, and make a run for Toby's house across the street.

Having known each other for ten years, Jim and Toby tended to let themselves in to each other's houses rather than knocking and waiting. Jim went right after the gnome, praying Toby was out and Nana Domzalski was immersed in one of her shows.

He almost caught it in the front hall. It darted into a rain boot that was lying on its side. Jim picked the boot up, but the gnome popped right back out as he was trying to cover the top of the boot with his forearm. It jumped to the ground and he turned the boot over, slamming it down like a glass on a spider, and missing the gnome by a hair.

In the kitchen, he dropped to all fours to follow it under the table and wondered if he should risk switching forms for faster reflexes. He could switch back if he heard Nana or Toby coming.

Before he could make a decision, the gnome jumped from the chairs it had been hopping back and forth between onto Jim's head, yanking his hair on landing, and then onto the floor and scuttled behind the fridge. Without AAARRRGGHH, Jim couldn't move something that heavy.

Well, maybe in his armour he could – he had suspicions it increased his strength, considering the size of the sword – but did he really need a magical suit of armour just to catch one lousy crafty gnome?

He waited by the fridge for it to come out again.

"Jimmy!" Nana Domzalski greeted him. Because of course she was here, in her own house, in the late evening, on a weeknight. "What a nice surprise. I think Toby-Pie is upstairs."

"Thanks, Mrs Domzalski," he said as easily as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gnome make a break for it and, conveniently and terribly, run up the quarter round of the staircase. "I'll just head on up."

Toby essentially had the entire upper story to himself. He was in his bedroom, staring enchanted at the gnome, which was playing its guitar.

"Aren't you just the best tiny musician in the world?" he whispered. "With such a cute pointy hat –" It bared its fangs at him and he recoiled, falling back on his bed and scrambling away. "And pointy teeth!"

"Toby!" Damn secrecy! Jim was pretty sure gnomes were carnivorous; he didn't want to drag his best friend to the hospital with mysterious bite wounds!

"Jim, did you see that?" The gnome ran again with a chittering giggle and disappeared into a pile of video games. "It was just there! Like a tiny lawn gnome, with a guitar, and fangs!"

"I saw it too, Tobes."

The undercover thing would be to lie and try to grab the gnome without Toby noticing. But Toby had seen the gnome. He hadn't had his phone out to record the musical performance, but he couldn't be put off by being told he'd imagined it. It would be easier to catch with Toby's help. Jim just had to keep Toby from finding out anything else and from comparing notes with Elijah Pepperjack in the aftermath.

The guitar started playing in the dollhouse. Jim held his finger to his lips and Toby nodded. As quietly as they could, they approached the dollhouse and peered into the tiny windows.

"Aw," Toby crooned. "He made a friend." The gnome was serenading a Sally-Go-Back action figure.

"When I say so," said Jim, "you pull the dollhouse open and I'll grab him."

"Come on, Jim, look at the little guy! He sounds so happy. Soul of an artist in that one."

It did seem docile for the moment …

"I just don't think it's safe," was the best Jim could offer without breaking at least one of his covers.

"I'm gonna name him Gnome Chompsky," said Toby.

"You're not serious. You're not keeping it."

"Man, I wish we could tell people about this, but poor Chompsky'd probably bolt again if too many 'giants' like us started crowding him, am I right?"

"You're actually serious."

"Come on, Jim! This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me! I promise if he bites me I'll drop him down the garbage disposal and you can say you told me so."

Jim returned the empty sack and lunchbox to Bagdwella later that night and let her assume he was, indeed, a 'gnome slayer'.

Previous Chapter (Kanjigar, Vendel, the Heartstone, and Draal)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (A visit to the Janus Order)

If you’re confused about the ‘ten years’ comment, Toby says in the birthday episode, “I had just moved in to the house across the street, and Jim’s dad got him this sweet bike kit for his fifth birthday ... and then he just took off.” So, in canon, Toby and Jim met when they were five.

I HAVE FEELINGS about the scene where Jim and Draal are training together and Jim offers Draal a chance to try out the Sword of Daylight and it vanishes out of Draal’s hand and Jim tries to apologize for the magic sword’s behaviour. [My impressions are detailed here.]

I thought about killing Gnome Chompsky off, to demonstrate the difference in character between Changeling!Jim and canon!Jim, but that scene stopped working when I actually got into Jim’s motives and feelings, so this happened.

#Becoming The Mask chapters #trollhunters #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!#Changeling Jim #Draal #swords #knives #magic #Blinkous Galadrigal #AAARRRGGHH #Bagdwella #Gnome Chompsky #fight scenes #Amulet of Daylight #Walter Strickler #Nana Nancy Domzalski #Tobias Domzalski #Tales of Arcadia

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theparaminds · 6 years

Photo

Independency in the music industry is possibly the greatest challenge an artist can take on, to keep themselves on track and work with what’s available to create something special is an entire talent on its own. For 17 year old Victor, this is just a daily occurrence.

Making music out of his bedroom with whatever is available to him, Victor has created a landscape of soft and soothing tracks which he hopes will empower those who share the same roots as he does, as well as the social hardships he’s overcome.

Paramind has had the unique opportunity to speak with Victor, not only on himself, but also about his story, fans and one of a kind sound.

Paramind: First question as always, how's your day going?

Victor: My day is going well. I woke up at 6am to shower and I went back to bed and finished a few episodes of Law and Order. My room was cold so I had the heat on blast and ended up falling asleep again until 1pm. I might go to Dave and Busters later with my best friend, Julian.

PM: To begin at the starting of your musical journey, where would you say the decision to take music seriously came from, and more so, what influences in your childhood affect this moment?

V: My decision to take music seriously was a product of stress and boredom. I just woke up one day and said, “hey, fuck it, if I can make trap beats for my friends I can make beats for myself”. It's funny because the first song that I ever put out was so bad, yet people messaged me everywhere encouraging me to "make more please" and "this shit slaps". The song was probably a minute and a half in length and it was called "Run". I released the song last summer in a Facebook video, which was just a Sailor Moon gif of Usagi running, hence the song title, "Run". While the song was definitely one of my worst, I can't deny that I had fun making it. That pushed me to start making more. As far as childhood influences go, I owe a lot of this to my family which is made up of musicians left and right. My mom was lead pop singer in a Mexican band called "Ecstasis", they made a lot of synth-pop. My dad and his entire family are made up of mariachi music and gigs. My uncle is a worship leader at my local church. A lot of this is just experience that I grew up with and learned from.

PM: Would you say you were normal growing up? If so, do you wish you had strayed outside the box more, and if not, what did being an outsider teach you?

I was not normal at all. My close friends will know this and I always bring it up, but I grew up in a very religious household. My parents met at church and at some point they led the worship team there. I wasn't allowed to listen to any music with labels "explicit" or "dirty" on it. I remember using Limewire on my dad's computer and I remember he'd get worked up when he saw me downloading "explicit" music. My mom wouldn't let me watch certain TV shows. She hated Dexter's Laboratory because he'd say "stupid" a lot and in retrospect, she didn't want me picking up foul language which I understand now. Although I do wish my parents would've let me explore as a kid, I am grateful that I wasn't "normal". I was never the cool kid growing up so I didn't feel the need to try and fit in with anyone. I'd just do me and to this day that's how it's always been.

PM: You display very proudly that your roots are Mexican-American, acknowledging its importance into your sound, with a growing number of artists such as Cuco and Omar Apollo doing the same. Leading to the question of what is the importance of representing your heritage in your music and allowing it to influence your sound, especially in the world we're living in currently?

V: Being a Mexican-American boy has always been hard for me. My first language is Spanish, so up until the third grade, I was in ESL classes. Fortunately for me, I'm a fast learner so I picked up English quickly. My accent was not the best though, so all the white kids (I was living in the suburbs) would make fun of me when I mispronounced something. For a long time I would feel ashamed of being Mexican and I would feel embarrassed whenever my parents spoke Spanish in front of my friends in fear of getting made fun of. Looking back now it was so stupid but I feel that a lot of people like me went through it. We eventually lost our suburban home and moved out to Little Village, Chicago. The majority of Little Village is Hispanic, so I went to school with a bunch of brown kids and I think that is when I felt more comfortable with myself. After stumbling upon Cuco on the internet one day, I remember feeling cool. I thought to myself, "People can sing in Spanglish like this? Over synth-pop beats?" People like Omar Banos make me feel proud to be Mexican and I think that brown kids deserve opportunities in every industry and place. This encourages me to speak about my heritage. It's who I am. I wanna represent those Little Village kids. I wanna represent my family. My parents are immigrants and although they split and I'm living with my mom now, I still worry about them both and pray that they don't get taken or some shit. I'd be so bummed. No one should live in fear of their parents being taken away. The evil of this world gets stronger but music is my family's anchor and that's what I will always hold on to.

PM: You also work with no management team or label backing, what surprise positives have you found in that route?

V: I had something like a "personal manager" for a few months, my friend Sydnie Giles. We're both juniors in high school right now, and she's planning on a music business career. She'd help me by writing out emails and offering advice. She wasn't hired or anything (we're both broke high school students) but her passion for music drove her to help me out and encourage my growth as a solo artist. Besides that, I've had no real management or label reach out to me or "pick me up". I remember being on the phone with Omar Apollo a week or two ago and we had a small discussion about management. That discussion was a wake up call for me, and I decided to stop working with Sydnie for now (we are still close friends and it ended on good terms). I've found in having no management or label are that I have full creative control and I don't have to follow any schedule. In other words, I am able to work on my own time and I get to keep any profit that I make. I'm also able to put together my own team and that means that when I win, my friends win as well. It feels good to be doing this at 17.

PM: Now before we can talk about your music, It's always good to know where it comes from, so what have been your biggest musical influences and how have they changed you?

V: It's difficult to point out influences when you're constantly influenced by everything around you. I listen to Blonde at least three times a day, but it doesn't make me want to get up and work on a new song. Sometimes my friend will tell me about her boy problems and that will strike up a song. Sometimes I'll be scrolling through my camera roll and admire my girlfriend for like fifteen minutes. That will make me get up and write a song. I don't really have big musical influences, but I do enjoy listening to Omar Apollo, Frank Ocean, Michael Seyer, and HOMESHAKE. These are all people I look up to as artists and I have many more. I find that my friendships shape me more than anything else.

PM: Who do you hope to inspire with your music and what do you want your legacy to be 200 years from now?

V: I hope to inspire the kids with broken computers and broken families. I've been through a lot of shit but it hasn't stopped me from creating and doing the things that I love most. You don't need a studio to make bangers. It's okay if your family is financially unstable. It's okay if your dad isn't around. It's okay if you're not poppin' at school. Do what you gotta do and pour your heart into it. My legacy in 200 years? Shit, I don't know. I don't know if I'll make it that big for people to remember me 200 years from now. I know what I want 200 years from now to look like, though. I just wanna see more brown kids making cool shit. This alternative pop scene is whitewashed and I hope more brown kids show out. Use whatever resources you have. Steve Lacy started with just an iPhone. I started with a Gateway desktop computer someone at church passed down to me. You can get it done if you work hard.

PM: Onto your music, you have cultivated an aesthetic of a striped back sound and lyricism, does this come at all from the way you make music and the resources available to you?

V: I'm always telling people, "I just make the shit I'd listen to" but that's the biggest lie I've ever told. I actually don't like listening to my voice in songs, it's weird. Would I rather teleport or fly? I don't know, I think teleportation would be cooler. I'm always late to things so this would help a lot. Unless I accidentally teleport to school in nothing but my Calvin Kleins. That'd be so stupid.

PM: Do you think there's been a shift to a diy approach to music such as yours? And if so, why?

V: This shift is stupid. People have turned a real life struggle into a musical genre. "Bedroom pop" is what they call it. Really, it's just a bunch of kids with cracked softwares making what they can. Borrowed microphones, cheap VST's, all that shit. None of this is intentional, I just find comfort in my bedroom and I don't have money for studio time. Would I still go to a studio if I had the money? Probably not. In my room, I can eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch while working on a track. You can't do that in a professional studio. I like the fact that I can make an entire album from my bedroom.

PM: Do you think if given the chance, you would become more studio based and label managed?

V: I like being independent. I don't think I'm ready for contracts and paperwork. I'm only 17. I'm actually looking for a job right now, I might check out Panera. I heard they were hiring and they have cool discounts for employees. Again, if I could work in a studio, I probably wouldn't. It depends. I like working by myself. It's just me and my thoughts, it feels cute and intimate. I do need a manager though with a lot of money. If you qualify, please hit me up. I don't have money but I can make you trap remixes of your favorite songs.

PM: Do you believe you'll have to innovate your sound to continue to stay as popular, or is that growth not always necessary?

V: Honestly I'm just going to keep making whatever sounds good to me. Chris Brown has been making the same shit for years now and he's still popping. 57-track album, nothing groundbreaking in there but some of his singles went gold/platinum. I don't wanna be pretentious and try reinventing a genre or some shit like that. If it hits me, I'll just do it naturally. I don't go into working on music with these things in mind. It's usually a very natural process for me. I trust myself.

PM: But finally, what is the core element to Victor that will have to stay even through change, what can't ever be lost if you are to still be yourself through the musical journey you're embarking on?

V: Good taste. I have good taste and I feel that I don't get enough credit for that! You have artists that make music solely for the people. They make shit that the masses wanna hear. You have artists that are genuine and do their thing. I'm a good balance of both. I know what the people want, but I don't always give it to them. I enjoy experimenting with different genres and trying new things out. At the end of the day, I have good taste and if I want to try something new, I'll make it work so that everybody can enjoy at least one part of my work.

PM: Do you have anyone/anything you'd like to shout out to promote? Do you have any projects coming soon? the floor is all yours!

V: I grew up without any older siblings or cousins to look up to, so shout out to Omar Apollo and Holladay. Whether the feeling is mutual or not, Omar has inspired me from the No Pulp days and I used to idolize him (low-key). Since we became friends, I've been constantly amazed by his work and impact on the community. He is that older sibling to me and I appreciate him. Holladay, for being passionate about the brown community and always talking about this idea of "passing it down". He's done a lot for me by putting me on although we are miles away and I will forever be grateful for his efforts. Shout out Blake Saint David for giving me a chance and giving me my first show ever. Shout out my best friend Andrea Reyes for doing my cover art and always supporting me when she doesn't have to. Shout out Omar Banos (Cuco) for retweeting my song and giving me a small platform. Lastly, shout out to my amazing partner and best friend in the world, Brenda Millan. My girlfriend is a huge part of who I am and she is always pushing me to do my best. I love that we can support each other's work and root each other on. I love my friends, fans and I love the internet.

Check out Victor:

Victor’s EP

Instagram and Twitter

Follow Paramind on Instagram and twitter

Victor’s friends:

Andrea Reyes

Omar Apollo

Holladay

Blake Saint David

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