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#this is the best thing to come out of Ep 6
coconut530 · 3 months
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Here’s two doodles (late night edition)
#Malevolent#Malevolent Podcast#6#WOW LIKE WHERE DO I EVEN START#First like them talking and stuff#John sorry bby you felt isolated but I mean come on friends never hurt anyone#And NOEL!!! Frickin’ love this guy#SO MUCH USEFUL INTEL WHAAAAT. CHARON TREASURER ORDER SIGIL LIKE SO CRAZYYYYY#AND JOHN WAS PART OF THE CONVERSATION!!! I have no idea why the second Arthur started talking I just burst out laughing for like.#So many minutes#But it was so wholesome and gratifying! Like we only get this type of freedom with Kayne bc he can hear John so having a trustworthy friend#Hearing us is nice#Unrelated but soundscapes were really good this ep like dang surely one of my fave eps of the season#And then um. Whatever Aldrich and Percival scenes were#That story was kinda cute I forgot about it way to tie it back to the beginning during the penultimate#JOHN STOP FORGETTING THINGS WE NEED TO BE PAST THIS#MARIE GIRL I’LL MISS YOU YOU WERE VERY FUN AND EPIC AND OUR FIRST WOMAN CHARACTER SO UHH YEAH#ALSO YOU TALKING ABOUT UR SON MADE ME WANT TO CRY OKAY HAHAHA#Noel!!! He’s just the best I tell ya#WHEN HE WAS LIKE UR OFFICE CUMMINGS DREAMLANDS KING IN YELLOW PRISON PITS THE CANA ADAM FRY LIKE OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDDDDD#I DIED IT WAS LIKE SO CRAZY HE LIKE KNOWS SO MUCH IS SO SIMILAR TO US IT’S CRAAAAAAZY#AND DUDE IT’S REALLY HARD TO NOT CALL YOU NOEL STILL#WE GONNA BREAK! IN! AND IT’S GONNA BE EPIC!#ANS THEN WE’RE OFF TO ENGLAND!!! WHAT I’M SO EXCITED#FIRST MIZU FROM BLUE EYE SAMURAI GOES TO ENGLAND AND NOW ARTHUR WHAT A TREAT#MALEVOLENT’S SO COOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL
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heartpascal · 1 year
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if the door wasn’t shut
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▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹— summary: months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
▹— a/n: i don’t like the second half of this one D: but i made you guys wait long enough so i apologise!!! been super busy so this is v rushed but i hope you enjoy nonetheless
▹— warnings: angst, loss of loved ones, tlou ep 5/6 spoilers, father figure joel, reader is really scared, not proofread
masterlist | PART TWO
howl’s song associations!
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Had you known that those days in Boston QZ would’ve been the last peaceful ones for a long time, you think you might’ve treasured them more. Held them closer, let the edges sharpen when you thought of them, rather than seeing only blurred images, the memories faded.
You wouldn’t have believed it if somebody had told you. The life you lived in Boston was flawed, at best, but it was your life. Filled with violence and bloodshed, sure, but there were things you could control. Things that Joel and Tess had always made sure you could control.
Out in the wide world, the facade of control that the two adults had always kept up crumbled to dust in your hands, lost to Infected and hunters and shelters in the strangest places.
It was a difficult shift in your reality, and you tried to hide it from Joel. He had already given you so much, hell, he and Tess had provided you with a home, even when they had no obligation to do so. You owed them more than your life.
When you had met Ellie, you immediately disliked her. She grated on you, her biting words and humorous comments doing nothing but fueling your growing dislike of her. She was childish — she acted her age, showed her fear, and it was something you just couldn’t understand. You were far too used to closing down the emotion behind your eyes, to shutting away all of your baggage in a box deep in your mind.
It had worn you down, eventually. Hating her was much harder than you expected it to be, especially when she looked at you for the understanding she knew you possessed. You even watched as Joel softened up to her, far faster than he had done with you, and you couldn’t help but follow in his example, as you always tried to do.
Hushed conversations when following Joel’s tense figure, something young passing over you, something that had seemed so… far away. You had always thought that bonds like this could only exist in the world before your own, trust Ellie to prove you wrong.
But one gained friendship didn’t quite make up for all the losses. It was Tess, to start with. Something that had singed your lungs and left you breathing the smoke, something of choked words leaving you when she had revealed the bite on her shoulder. She had looked at you, that understanding passing through her eyes, grief for a life she wouldn’t get to live. You understood the gaze far more than you wanted to, and you knew that the burns scarring your insides wouldn’t fade for a very long time.
Then, it was finding out that Bill and Frank were gone.
It seemed wrong. Something so untouchable, so guarded, how could it possibly be gone? You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand how the few people you valued seemed to be dropping away before your very eyes, faster than you could even reach for them.
The journey seemed pointless to you, after that.
Though you felt for Ellie, that selfishness that had always been drilled into you rushed in, drowning out the empathy towards her cause. It left you with something empty inside of your chest, and you couldn’t figure out a way to fill it. You weren’t sure you wanted to.
It only got worse.
Warm days turned colder, the nights going to something nearby freezing, and then there was the events of Kansas City. You had been so sure Joel was going to die, that you and Ellie would follow soon after, that you couldn’t move. Your legs seemed frozen to the spot, and even as you heard the struggle in the other room, it didn’t quite register.
It was only when Ellie managed to get Joel through to the room you were hidden in that you managed to snap out of your fear-induced haze. Your eyes were cloudy, and after that, it was so hard to focus.
You and Ellie had found some comfort when Sam showed up alongside his older brother, Henry. They were a breath of fresh air in the hellscape of a city, and for once, you witnessed true childhood. Saw it in the way Sam scribbled on his board, in the way he laughed at whatever Ellie had written on it. It was contagious, almost.
That was probably the happiest you had been since leaving Boston, and it all fell apart so quickly. Like the first sparks of a fire squandered by the downpour of a storm.
You can’t even remember much of it. Not the big parts, anyway. You remember the little things, like the colour of Sam’s hoodie, or the splinters you got from the floorboards as you fell backwards, scrambled away from the only semblance of childhood you’d ever had. You remember looking to Henry, something in your chest begging to be let out, but choking on it before it could escape. Your remember the sound of something splattering against the wall, and you remember Joel touching your arm after the burial.
Everything was blurring together, but one thing stood out; that overwhelming fear that threatened to sweep you away with every sound you heard, every flash of movement in darkness, every loss you witnessed.
Each day it became harder to shake away the haze to your eyes, harder to feel something other than scared, harder to close that box in your brain and leave those big feelings in there. It became so prevalent, all of it weighing you down, pressing tightly against your shoulders, and somewhere along the line you knew that Joel and Ellie had noticed.
Whether it was your withdrawn behaviour, or the gaping hole ripped into your chest, you weren’t entirely sure. But they knew. Perhaps not to the extent that you believed them to, but they knew something wasn’t quite right.
And now it was the cold threatening to take the three of you — it was freezing the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and you really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It had been months since Henry and Sam, but it felt like it had been both no time at all, yet so far away. Everything still felt so raw, so fresh, despite time passing as normally as ever.
Joel had somehow managed to find winter supplies for the three of you, consisting of a coat and gloves, a hat that you let Ellie take. It was enough to keep you all alive, but it didn’t stop the chill seeping into your very bones, making it feel all the more harder to keep going.
It got to the point where you just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.
“Come on,” Joel said, your name falling from him as he patted your shoulder, all of his supplies already packed up, “Time to go.”
Getting up seemed impossible, so you didn’t. Just let your eyes glaze over and watched as Joel and Ellie grabbed their weapons, glancing outside of the cabin you’d taken refuge in. Joel looked back to you, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you hadn’t packed up any of your things, hadn’t even moved.
He looked at Ellie, frowning when she noticed, too. He made his way over, crouching down with aching knees, and placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Kid, we gotta get moving.” Joel said, shaking your shoulder the slightest to gather your attention. You just looked at him, shaking your head. “C’mon. We don’t have time for this.”
“I don’t wanna go anymore, Joel.” You told him, finally admitting the words that sounded so much like defeat. You hated that the world had won, but you were so tired of fighting that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lose.
Joel shook his head, eyebrows creasing, an expression close to dumbfounded crossing his face. He couldn’t understand.
“We’re closer than we’ve ever been!” Ellie said encouragingly, the biggest smile she could muster on her face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in her direction, instead looking down to where your fingers pulled at the loose threads on your sleeping bag.
“I can’t,” You said, much closer to tears than you had even realised. “I can’t keep doing this. Joel, I wanna go home.”
His frown just deepened, uncertainty present in every feature on his face. Joel didn’t know how to handle this, and there really wasn’t that much time to do so.
“Kid…” He sighed, before sitting down properly beside you with a pained breath.
“No, Joel, I— I want to go back. I want all of this to go away. I want Tess.” You admitted, heart pounding so hard just at the mention of the woman you had lost, and it was painful. Your chest aches the more you thought about it, and there was the realisation that you were homesick. Though you weren’t sure if that’s as for Boston, or for Tess.
“There is no goin’ back, kiddo. Tess… she’s gone. Nothin’ we can do about it.” Joel said, taking a moment to steady the shake in his voice after saying her name. It was just as painful for him as it was for you.
“I’m… I’m scared.” You confessed, voice barely a whisper, but it echoed around the empty walls of the cabin. The confession almost scared Joel, he knew you preferred to keep everything locked tightly, never admitting to the fear he knew was there. “All the time,” You continued, lips trembling around the words, “And it’s all I can think about. I can’t keep doing this. Every time we meet something I just get so scared, I can’t move, can’t speak.”
“It’s okay to be scared—” Joel tried.
“No, it’s not! It’s like I’m frozen, and every time, I lose someone. I can’t watch you guys die. I can’t do it.” You cut him off, the tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Joel.
He couldn’t do much more than frown, unsure how he could fix something like this. He knew the feeling more than you could imagine, so familiar it was the clearest thing he could remember. Joel had felt this way for years, but he was an adult. He had people relying on him, he couldn’t shut down in the way he knew you wanted to.
“We’re not gonna die,” Joel said, hesitantly. It was stupid to make promises in this world, especially when danger and the unknown lurked around every corner. “We’re all goin’ to be just fine. Listen to me, kid, we’re gonna get this done, and then we’re all gonna find somewhere, no infected, and we’ll just live. But we need to get through this, first.”
You shook your head, turning away from him, and he glanced to where Ellie stood, the guilt flooded onto her face.
“You two listenin’?” Joel asked, beginning to pick up your things and shove them into your backpack. “We’re getting close now. It’s almost over. Got nothin’ to worry about.”
“He’s right,” Ellie said, quietly, passing Joel something to put in your bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They packed up your things around you, Joel grabbing your arms to help you to your feet, and Ellie linked arms with you as soon as you were up. Together, they managed to get you out of the cabin, back out into the cold.
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You had been so sure that one of you was going to die when the people on horses showed up, guns trained on each of you in turn. You thought it was going to be Joel when he shoved you and Ellie behind him, his head spinning around, taking count of the people who were a danger to you.
Then, they brought out their dog, and your heart stopped when they directed it towards Ellie. It was going to be her, you were almost sure of it, thought that it would get a whiff of something from the bite scarred over her forearm.
You held your breath for a long time, not able to let it go even when the dog settled, playing happily with Ellie. Surely, these people would shoot you, regardless. They certainly didn’t seem very friendly.
But no, they were taking you back to their town, with you and Joel sharing a horse while Ellie rode on her own. You’d never ridden on a horse, and before, you may have enjoyed the experience, but you could only feel that suffocating fear that made you choke on your words, so scared that these people were taking you to their town just to kill you. Or worse. You’d heard of people who do worse.
You couldn’t get the words out to express your concern to Joel, forced to stay silent and cling on to him as the three of you made your way past the walls, surrounded by strangers. You shared a look with Ellie, that nervous understanding shared between the two of you once more.
Your fingers twitch, aching to wrap around your gun, but that was the first thing these people had taken. Then it was your knife. And then the axe Joel had you storing in the side of your bag. It didn’t help that helpless feeling, that fear clogging your throat.
Joel’s tense frame loosens suddenly, something like relief sinking into his bones as he shouts, “Tommy!” A man immediately looking up from where he was stood atop of some scaffolding. Joel slides off of the horse, handing the reigns to you, before meeting his brother halfway in a tight hug.
Ellie frowns, and you understand the furrow to her brows as you looked at Joel and his brother. He was all the two of you had.
The two of you stick together as you follow Joel to wherever his brother is leading the three of you, sharing nervous glances and only just about relaxing when you’re seated with hot meals in front of you.
You did your best to tune as much of the conversation out as possible, even ignoring Joel’s comment about slowing down, as you shoved as much food as you could into your mouth while the opportunity was there. After all, who knew how long this would last?
Ellie kicked your leg when Tommy mentioned about a tour, the two of you reluctantly leaving your plates behind to follow the three adults. Maria went on with her touring speech, talking about when and how they settled in the town, with Tommy pitching in about the shared resources. It was only when she talked about separating you and Ellie from Joel that your attention was really caught.
“Joel.” You said, urgency in your voice, a pleading look sent his way as he wrung his hands together, his brother already heading in his direction.
“You’ll be fine.” He said to you and Ellie, nodding in your direction and missing the look of defeat you and Ellie shared as he walked away.
“Shall we?” Maria asked, looking between you and Ellie. She was half-turned away already, but caught the way you both gazed nervously at Joel’s turned back. The two of you nodded, following behind her as she made her way through the town, clearly as familiar to her as the back of her hand.
Ellie answered all of Maria’s idle questions whilst walking alongside her, though her answers were slightly withdrawn. It comforted you, even the slightest bit, to know that you weren’t the only one who was feeling distrustful towards this place. That you weren’t the only one on edge.
Maria opened the door to the house you, Ellie and Joel were meant to be staying in, swatting a hand in front of her face as dust rose up from the untouched surfaces.
“Homely.” Ellie commented, stepping around Maria to peek into the living room, and then the kitchen, whilst you remained beside the door with Maria.
“It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm. And it’s got running water.” Maria said, despite this being more than any of you had had in a very long time. She smiled tightly at you, head dipping as she looked around. “Make yourselves at home.”
“When do I get my gun back?” You asked, probably the most you had spoken since your slight… outburst at the cabin, just a few days prior.
“Kids ‘round here aren’t armed. Nobody is.” Maria answered, eyebrows creased as she looked at you.
“Right, well I’m not a part of your commune, or whatever, so I want back what’s mine.” You replied, with more heat to the words than would’ve been considered respectful. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, though, because how were you meant to defend yourselves if you had no weapons? Especially considering Maria clearly didn’t want Joel here, and by extension, you and Ellie.
Maria sighed, a slight exhale from her nose, and you stepped away from her, looking towards Ellie, who stared right back at you with something nervous in her gaze. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? How about you guys go take a shower, and I’ll grab you some new clothes.”
Ellie nodded, practically leaping up the stairs, and you heard doors slamming open until she finally found the bathroom, yelling an: “Aha!”
“There’s just the one shower in this house, but if you wanna have one now, mine and Tommy’s house is just across the street.” Maria offered, kindly.
“I’d rather wait.” You replied, voice snappier than you expected it to be, but you bounded up the stairs and flopped down in the first room you found.
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Ellie had taken forever in the shower, so it was a while before you finally took your turn. As much as you hated to admit it, the warm water cleared away much of your bitterness towards this place. It felt good. Finally being clean, properly clean, after going so long living off of what little you could take when travelling across the country. You hadn't had a shower like this since Bill and Frank’s — and you hated thinking of it.
Maria had been around earlier, bringing two piles of clothes hanging in each arm, dumping them on the bed outside of the bathroom Ellie had been showering in. You hadn’t acknowledged her, so she had nodded and left quickly.
You didn’t exactly enjoy feeling like you owed anybody anything, but you had to admit that slipping on the clean clothes that Maria had left felt good. Wearing the long sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick jumper was probably the warmest you’d been in a long time, not that you would’ve admitted that to anybody.
The small part of you that had been numbed for the past few weeks began to thaw, and you felt almost embarrassed of how you had treated Maria earlier on — despite you having every right to act in such a manner. So, with a huffed breath of annoyance, you decided to follow the note the woman had left, and made your way across the street.
She had shouted to come in almost as soon as you had knocked, and you opened the door hesitantly.
The first thing you noticed was the sound of hair scissors, and it sent a pang through your chest. Then you heard Maria and Ellie chatting, and followed the noise. The chalkboard in her living room caught your eye, and you frowned as you passed by it.
“What’s going on?” You asked, eyebrows drawn together as you stepped into the room to see Ellie putting up her short hair.
“Just a trim,” Maria said, waving the scissors in her hand, “You’re up next.”
She noticed the way you tensed, drawing your arms back up towards your chest as your eyebrows furrowed further. It was defensive, the way you immediately curled in on yourself.
“No, no, I— I don’t want my hair cut.” By you were the words missing from the sentence, going unsaid but not unheard as one of your hands reached up to hold onto the too-long ends of your hair. They were splintering, and unhealthy, but you couldn’t do it.
The last person to cut your hair had been Tess — a memory you treasured, held so close that it almost hurt to think about. It was one of those things that had come naturally at the time, but felt so taken for granted once Tess was gone. You could remember the evenings so clearly, one of the only times that she allowed herself to come across as something almost maternal.
It would feel like you were betraying her, her memory, to allow someone else to take scissors to your hair. It was a job that belonged to Tess, and Tess only. You pretended it didn't hurt, the length your hair had grown. She would’ve never let it get this long.
Maria frowned, but seemed to take your defensive words and body language for a good enough answer. She placed the scissors on the counter, an act of truce, if you had ever seen one.
“Okay,” She said, hands up in surrender, before she reached to the counter and grabbed the coat that had been laid there. “Here, put this on. We’re going to the movies.”
You had no choice but to do so, tugging the coat on and resorting to holding it closed with your arms folded across your chest when your fingers trembled on the zipper. Ellie glanced at you with a frown, and checked you were following her and Maria out of the door, just huffing out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you, hurrying to catch up.
Sitting around a bunch of kids was one of the weirdest things to happen to you. You’d spent most of your life surrounded by only Joel and Tess, occasionally Bill and Frank, hell — Ellie was the first person your age that you’d really spoken to. After everything the two of you had been through, being surrounded by children felt much stranger to you than being surrounded by adults.
You could understand adults, to a certain extent. Kids… were a different story. So transfixed on the movie projected on the wall ahead, which you couldn’t understand. You felt vulnerable, sat in the middle of the room. Out of the loop, even, as adults watched and chatted around the edges of the room.
It was why you went to find Maria whilst Ellie followed Tommy out of the place, confused on why she had brought you here. “What am I meant to be doing here?” You asked her, when you finally found her standing to the side, gazing at the movie.
“We’re at the movies,” She laughed, saying your name, “You’re meant to be watching the movie.”
“Why?” You asked, incredulously, because how did this help anybody? Watching fake people in an image against the wall might’ve fascinated you, but you were nervous. Paranoid. At any moment, they could have people breaking into the town, knocking down the walls, anything… so why waste time and people watching a movie? To you, it would’ve made more sense to have more of these people stationed as guards.
“Entertainment,” Maria offered, moving from where she had been leaning against the half-wall. “Whatever you wanna call it. You’re not out in the wilderness, anymore. You’re safe. Take some time, enjoy the film.” She told you, and you hated the sympathy that she held in her gaze.
You moved to say something, but followed Maria’s gaze to see Tommy walking back through the doors. Without another word to her, you were shoving your way through the crowd and pushing the door open, back out into the cold air.
By the time you found your way to the house on Rancher Street, both doors at the top of the stairs were tightly shut. You frowned, unsure why they would’ve shut them, and made your way up to the room Ellie was in.
“Ellie?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her turned away from the door as she lay on the bed. She was still, and remained quiet. With a sigh, you closed the door and crossed the hall, opening Joel’s door with the same results.
You tiptoed back downstairs, frowning as you laid a blanket across the couch, swatting the dust that rose to the air.
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Waking up to an empty house stirred the panic that you had been storing away. You felt frantic as you tumbled up the stairs, ripping the covers away from the unmade beds as if Ellie or Joel could’ve been hiding beneath them. But finding nothing just made everything so much worse, because what if you were right all along?
Anybody could’ve come into the house, caught the two of them off guard, and what could they have done? All of your weapons were taken from you, which meant no defence, and no deterrent.
You were ripping the kitchen apart before you could think to do much else, pulling drawers out and sending the dusty contents crashing to the floor. In the end, you found nothing of use — the sharp cutlery had long since been taken, leaving dust in the empty compartment that should’ve held knives.
Your last resort was the plate you had smashed against the counter, leaving a dent in the material upon impact. Blood trickled down your cheek from a minuscule cut, the result of a tiny piece of ceramic. You grabbed the sharpest piece of the plate in a gloved hand, and marched out of the front door.
Upon entering Tommy and Maria’s house, you were greeted with nothing but silence, despite the impact the door had made against the wall when you had opened it. A small piece of paper on their kitchen counter caught your eye, and you snatched it up.
Going to the stables first thing. Love you - Tommy.
The edge of the paper was crinkled, and you figured that Maria must’ve seen it already.
Your run to the stables was frantic, and not at all subtle. People stared as you practically sprinted across the town, almost slipping on patches of ice that blended in with the snow. “Slow down, girl!” Somebody had shouted at you as you passed, but you just gripped the sharp ceramic tighter, barely feeling the way it had begun to tear at your glove.
“Joel, Ellie!” You shouted, almost hysterically, as you finally saw the two of them. Ellie was already sat upon a horse, holding the reins as Joel spoke to his brother. They both turned to face you as you approached, an almost defeated look matching each other’s expressions. “What—What’s going on?” You asked, stumbling into Joel and feeling him grasp on to your shoulders to get you to finally stop.
Joel shared a look with Tommy, who looked back at him with what was almost sympathy.
“Kid, I…” He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand down his face as his speech trailed off.
“What?” You snapped, gripping the ceramic tighter.
“Listen to me,” Joel said, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he said the words. “Me and Ellie are heading to the University—”
“Let—Let me grab my bag.” You told him, trying to turn away but feeling his grip tighten before he turned you back to face him, a bracing expression on his face. He looked almost pained.
“You’re not listening!” He told you, sounding far too close to frustration. “Me and Ellie. Not you.” He repeated, watching carefully the way your furrowed eyebrows fell, something so similar to grief presenting itself in the way your whole expression fell apart.
You looked to Ellie, only to find her gaze averted, and shook your head as you turned back to Joel. “What? You’re— You’re what? Leaving me behind?”
“It’s not fair for us to ask you to—”
You cut him off, stumbling back and away from his hands, and watched as they fell from the air where they had held on to you. “It’s not fair?” You asked, trembling from something other than the cold as you looked at the only man you had ever trusted.
The ceramic in your palm fell to the ground, fibres of your glove clinging to the edges of it. Joel frowned.
“Not fair?” You repeated, at the sound of their silence. “You know what’s not fair, Joel?” You questioned, stepping forward to push your hands against his chest, feeling your chest ache when he did nothing to stop you. “Following you two, all this way, just for you to fucking abandon me!”
“We’re not abandoning you!” Ellie said, then, her voice sounding just as childish as the words did. Because if they weren’t abandoning you, what were they doing? They hadn’t even said goodbye — if it weren’t for you running out here, after waking up to find them gone, you might have never even seen them again.
“Yes, you are!” You yelled at here, feeling your throat clog up as your vision went cloudy, “And after everything…—”
You stared between them, waiting for them to have a response, but neither of them did.
“I lost everything, following you here. Everything! It’s all gone. Tess…” You trailed off, feeling tears bubble at the corners of your eyes as you said her name. It was a betrayal, more than anything. If it weren’t for this whole adventure, Tess would’ve been alive. Bill and Frank, maybe not, but Tess.
“That ain’t fair, kiddo, we—”
“None of this has been fair. None of it! And you—you were just going to fucking leave me! How’s that for fair?” You asked desperately, despite knowing that no answer they could give would be what you wanted. All of your fear over losing them, it had never considered that they may leave of their own accord.
Maria said your name, approaching from behind you, and you didn't flinch when she placed a hand on your shoulder. You missed the pain on Joel’s face at the way you allowed her to comfort you, but had moved away from his attempts. She pulled you a step back from him, and another, until she finally turned you away as your tears spilled over.
Tommy shook his head when Joel made a move to follow the two of you, and you pretended not to notice their gazes on you as they strode by.
“How could they just…” Your voice broke off at the edges, and you felt the haze to your eyes returning as you looked at Maria, the realisation that you were alone hitting you harder than any of your fear ever had. That was fear; a possibility of what could happen, whereas this… this was reality.
And your reality was that nobody loved you enough to stay.
PART TWO
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revasserium · 2 months
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hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much
ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)
k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.
wedding dress
opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?
summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding
a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?
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It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.
“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.
“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.
“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”
It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.
“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.
Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.
“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”
Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.
“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”
“It’s actually for a wedding.”
There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.
Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.
A wedding.
Your wedding? Perhaps?
He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.
Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.
“Oh.”
Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.
Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.
“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”
And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.
“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”
You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.
“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”
“My ex — you know the one —”
Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.
“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”
“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.
Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?
But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.
“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”
Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.
He closes his eyes and counts to three.
“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”
Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”
Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.
“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”
There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.
“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.
You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.
And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.
“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”
Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.
“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”
Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.
“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”
“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”
“And what was your dream then, ey?”
Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”
“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”
“I — I helped!”
Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”
Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.
He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”
Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.
“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”
And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.
Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.
And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —
He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.
“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.
“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?
There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.
He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.
“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”
He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.
“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”
He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.
“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.
A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.
“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”
Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”
You whack him softly on the arm.
“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”
“You did?”
Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.
“How long’d that last?”
He smirks, “Few hours.”
You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.
“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”
“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.
He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.
“Then why —”
Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.
“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”
You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”
“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”
“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”
“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”
You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.
The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.
He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.
“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”
You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”
Sanji freezes, eyes wide.
“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”
You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”
“Great,” Sanji says.
“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.
He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.
He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.
That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —
He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.
In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.
Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.
“Ah… fuck.”
It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.
He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…
He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —
“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”
He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…
He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???
Sanji laughs, shaking his head.
sure there are.
A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.
He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.
It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.
He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.
He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.
“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“
Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.
Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.
And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.
You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.
“W-wow… you look…”
Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”
Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.
“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.
“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.
“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.
He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.
He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.
“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.
“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.
There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.
Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.
“Cheers, then.”
“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.
Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.
“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”
Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.
“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.
Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —
“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.
“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.
“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”
“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”
“Okay, but what if I want to —”
He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —
He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.
Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?
“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.
He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”
You laugh, “I know — me too.”
So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —
“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”
“What’s in this sauce?”
Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”
“Oh the cake looks good though.”
“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”
You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”
“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.
Because for him, happiness has always just been you.
So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.
You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.
“Well, well, well — look who it is.”
Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.
“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.
“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.
“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.
“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.
You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”
Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”
Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.
“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.
“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —
“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”
Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.
You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.
“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.
“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”
“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.
“No! I — that’s not —”
“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.
And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.
When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.
“O-oh — sorry I —”
Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.
“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”
You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.
“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.
“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”
He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.
“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.
“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.
Finally. Finally.
Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.
Finally.
“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.
“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.
You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.
“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.
Especially after so many years of practice.
You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.
“It’s always been you…” you say.
At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.
He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.
“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.
You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.
“What — why’d you stop?”
Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.
“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”
Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”
You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.
“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”
Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”
Your breath catches.
“Oh.”
Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.
The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.
Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.
“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”
You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.
“Your place, or mine?”
You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”
Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”
You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”
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slavghoul · 5 months
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Interview from Sweden Rock Magazine 10/2023
Hi, hi. There is an interview with Tobias in SRM’s newest issue, but it’s in the subscribers only section, so I thought I’d translate/share since I guess not many people will be able to get their hands on it. It is about Prequelle and it’s part of SRM’s „200 best Swedish hard rock albums of all time” series. Prequelle placed #68. The other albums may have scored higher, but for now we don’t know the whole list. Either way, enjoy. Very insightful. 
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„Do you think that "Prequelle" is Ghost's worst album?” Now that’s an unusual opening question. Especially when the interview is about an album that Sweden Rock Magazine's writers and qualified Swedish hard rock musicians (including Tobias Forge) have voted as one of the 200 best Swedish hard rock albums of all time. The question wasn’t planned, but comes spontaneously, as a reaction to the first thing Tobias Forge says when we sit down on opposite sofas in the record company office. I'm here for a two-part interview, partly about the EP "Phantomime" (published in #6 2023), partly about "Prequelle". Neither record companies, artists, voters, nor even our writers who conduct interviews for this series of articles have any idea what placement an album has received. Interviews are often done well in advance and we simply don't want placements to leak and become public long before publication.
No Ghost album has ever been on the list before. The idea is actually to end the day with the "Prequelle" talk, but when Tobias Forge suddenly starts with a funny little comment that this album is probably the one that those who have voted think is Ghost's worst or least popular album, I just have to take the opportunity to ask the question: Do you think that "Prequelle" is Ghost's worst album?
No, absolutely not, he says and laughs. If I'm going to be completely pragmatic, I'd say: "How many songs do we actually play from that record?" There are songs that work damn well live and sit where they should. So it's a pretty strong album.
But is this what you are basing it on? "Prequelle" was released after Ghost had become really big so it can't be compared to "Opus Eponymous" and "Infestissumam" which you don't play many songs from. I mean, no matter what kind of record you had released when "Prequelle" came out, you would still have played many songs from it and they would have worked precisely because Ghost's songs nowadays are moulded more to the arena format.
I don't know how to answer that, it's difficult. If the album had been different, it would have been. If I'm going to talk somehow both artistically and practically, I know that for every record we have become exponentially bigger. "Prequelle" was definitely no exception, but it also took us a big step forward and upwards and we became bigger and broader. To the extent that when we introduce old songs in the live set, you notice that there are elements on albums one and two that make some songs more difficult to play. Not technically, we can play the songs, but they don't work in quite the same way as the later songs, which means that there is a slight favouritism.
I asked the original question about whether you think it's Ghost's worst album only because you directly said that this means it's the least popular one.
I'm just so full of myself I assumed all the other albums are also in the top 200, which may actually be incorrect. This might be the best album and the others aren't even there, haha.
It wasn't long after "Prequelle" was released that you were self-critical of the album in interviews, saying that it was too ballad-heavy and a bit too soft. I haven't noticed that before, you being so self-critical shortly after the release.
Yes, but I still feel that way. If, as an artist, I am only going to look at the work with the criticism that one can feel towards one's own work, I think that if things had been different or if I had more time, I might have wished that I had managed to get maybe two more hard songs. Maybe one more hard song would have fit on the album and another harder song might have phased out one of the ballads. Now five years after the album came out, I know that the two ballads ("Pro Memoria" and "Life Eternal"), which I may not think are bad, are one too many. But I know that many of the people who like the band like both of them, so it's kind of a useless argument.
Who sets the length of an album? Have you set a limit, that it can't be longer than this and have no more songs than that?
No, but it must fit on an LP disc and there is a physical limit. I think the absolute pain threshold is 46 minutes and that's 23 minutes on each side. Now maybe Mikkey Dee (co-owner of Spinroad Vinyl Factory) will raise his hand here: "But I can make it longer!" And it's maybe 48 minutes, I don't know, but I do know that when a disc starts getting so full that you start getting close to the sticker, it starts to sound bad. Especially nowadays, because recordings today are so very maximalist in scope. It's one thing if you record 60s music with drums, a guitar and bass where the sound is cleaner and finer or if you play acoustic stuff with just vocals. Bob Dylan records could have eight songs on each side and it worked all the way through. But this kind of fairly compact music doesn't work well. Not only am I a militant vinyl advocate, I think we should respect the fact that most artists don't manage to create more than 45 minutes of good music on a regular basis. A lot of famous double records are not that good. I don't think the Rolling Stones "Exile On Main St" is very good. It might as well have been on one disc. And if I'm actually going to turn it into something completely mundane, I'd say that I think it's irresponsible to sit and make records with twelve songs if it results in the record being 63 minutes long and you automatically have to make a double record. It's pretty wasteful.
When you said that it's irresponsible, I thought you were going to say that it's irresponsible to print a double vinyl because of the environmental destruction that it entails.
Of course, if we're going to be completely straightforward and not do anything that harms nature, we shouldn't even release any records, so I say this with reservation. But with that in mind and for the sake of art, I think more people should embrace the actual given format that has been the most prevalent in rock history. There is a reason why a film is usually one hour and 30 minutes. You can’t take any more. There's a certain dramaturgical structure and there’s a certain comfort in it. Then the CDs came along they screwed that up, and suddenly there weren't two sides anymore but it started one way and ended another. Now that the CD is no longer important and we've gone back to vinyl, creators should follow suit and start embracing the physical rules.
Are there songs that have been rounded off just because you thought „I have to round off here, because if I continue, it won't fit on the vinyl disc"?
We actually had that problem on the last album. „Watcher In The Sky” ended the A-side and the outro is much longer on the CD and digitally. Two minutes longer I think. Much, much, much longer. It's long, noisy and has all these dives. It's a very chaotic soundscape. You get the feeling that it goes on and on, and on the vinyl it's just the beginning of an outro and then it drops almost immediately. I think that was a huge mistake.
So the overall sound quality was more important than vinyl buyers getting everything? Because you could have pressed the vinyl and it would have fit, but you would have had to compromise the sound quality.
Yes, exactly. You can get the song to just keep going until the vinyl simply runs out. Then it just starts spinning in the middle, depending on what kind of record player you have. But the problem then, if you want to anticipate events at a creative stage, is that people today buy and listen to vinyl records and are sensitive. It's quite common for people to complain that the record is broken. I don't just mean our records, but people complain a lot about the presses. If you make ten songs, it's therefore stupid to have a too thick soundscape towards the end of song number five and song number ten. If you want to be really good and old school, that's where you put a piano ballad because it's an easier sound to handle so far into the record. This is what I think about when I make records. But clearly sometimes I miscalculate.
This must cut right through the record collector Tobias Forge's whole body and soul, that "Watcher In The Sky” is shortened by two minutes on the vinyl of all versions.
Well... I don't toss and turn and wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it anymore. But when it happened, I was livid. Luckily it was just an outro. It would have been worse if it had continued with some kind of narrative into the next song. Now I can't remember in my head how long "Prequelle" is, but if I'd had to go back in time and just re-construct it, the re-construction wouldn't have had much to do with the existing material, I would have just wanted to add a scene. And it's not a scene that's missing, it's just for the sake of balance. It became asymmetrical in a way that bothers me a bit.
You've talked about this before, but it was before "Prequelle" that you really started to talk a lot about how you were thinking about what kind of new songs might suit the live show. Can you get stuck in that mindset, thinking more about what songs are needed live right now rather than creating an album that will last 30 years?
Hmm... (long pause)... The reason I'm sitting here thinking is because I'm trying to come up with examples of other bands that I think might have gone through something similar. I’m looking for examples to the answer I'm about to formulate and that is that: yes, I think there comes a point in the career when most bands make a record because they simply feel they need to… Because what we're talking about is that when you go from playing in small smoky clubs in front of an already inveterate audience that already understands the perhaps a little more chewy expression, that experience can change if you start playing in front of a larger and especially a different type of audience. When a different type of audience comes and you play in a different format, you discover that this song doesn't work very well, it doesn't sound very good and it's difficult to get the sound right. Then there's usually a record or two or three during your career when this transition happens where you start filling in with songs that work better live. Look at Piece of mind", "Powerslave" and "Somewhere in time". There's a reason why Iron Maiden didn't play a lot of the first two albums there and then, because it was easier to play the new songs. You get to that point somewhere in your career and it's very difficult to say when it is - there's no given rule and there are artists who continue to release relevant records and have an amazing ability to release new records and just play the whole new record. Well, now Iron Maiden does that and tests their audience a little bit in that way, but then they will always compensate by doing like a "best of" set the following year so everything is forgiven. Now we're in the middle of the "Impera" period here and have a very strong set, but I'm starting to feel that now that I'm about to start writing a new album, it feels like it's not really on my agenda to write three more albums that will change the live setlist ten years ahead. I think we already have the blueprint for what is Ghost's setlist, especially if you include the entire catalogue. After a while, each new record you make becomes a little less important. It's really hard to know when that point comes, but the truth is that new records don't matter in the same way. Slayer didn't have to release "Divine Intervention”. They definitely didn't have to release "Diabolus In Musica". I didn't care about it and I just wanted to hear the old stuff. If they had just come up and played "Reign In Blood" I would have been soooo happy. And that's the way it is with most bands. Nobody would be sad if the Rolling Stones came up and didn't play anything from "Emotional Rescue". And that's just the way it is. In the future, I can see a scenario where there is probably a basis to possibly build up an alternative setlist. There are so many songs that we do not play and that I have nothing against - I love them too! But it would almost be easier to build up a completely alternative setlist and run a show with only the odd songs. There are so many songs now. There's no reason not to build on that. But when I want to make a new record, it's irresponsible for me not to consider that there might have to be some songs that are a bit more direct. But it doesn't hurt me if we have more songs that we don't play live. I don't know if this answers your question...
I would actually like to ask exactly the same question again, because I wonder if you yourself feel that you get stuck during the making of the record. You said that you would have liked to include another hard song because "Prequelle" doesn't have the balance that you would have liked to have in retrospect.
Exactly, but the explanation for that has more to do with my mental capacity there and then. I simply couldn't cope. I felt that I had probably maxed out… It was probably about as much as I could do that year. That's the simple explanation. To get another song that would have fit and that would have fulfilled this requirement that I now in retrospect would have wished I had, it would have required something that I did not have there and then. The only thing that could have made it easier is if I had more time. It is difficult to reason about it, you see.
I was in the studio for a few days during the recording and it's one of the few times in all these years that I've done interviews where someone has started crying during an interview. It was quite obvious that everything that had happened with the split of the band affected you.
Yes. Of course. It did.
Is "Prequelle" a difficult album to listen to for you? Can you sit and listen to it all the way through? 
Well, at the moment I have to do that from time to time, and listen to all the records, because we're just about to start rehearsing again and then I sometimes have to go back and just listen to the record to go: "Fuck, is that really how I sing?" Especially when we start rehearsing, I can be a bit like: "Damn, who changed this bit?” Then I usually sit down and it hits me: "Oh, it's me who has changed my song!" You simply do that over the years, you start singing it in a slightly different way. So sometimes I have to go back and listen, but it’s more practical. I don't think it's fun to listen them. I do it until they are finished. I listen over and over and over again and really try to listen with all the imaginary ears and all the imaginary perspectives you can have. "How would I have listened to this if I had heard it from this perspective?" Just to get as "objective" a perspective as I can until I'm satisfied, but then it's like „No, I don't want to hear this anymore". But I have to say that I think "Prequelle" is a very tolerable disc despite everything that interfered with the process. Therapeutically, it works quite well considering that we are still playing at least half of the album. For every artist there are songs that you want to play, and there are songs that you don’t want to play because they feel too personal. I don't feel that way about this one, it's more like: "Ah hell, they're part of the setlist and people like it and it sounds good. So that's what we're doing."
On a personal level, was Tom Dalgety the perfect producer for you, the way you were feeling at the time? Tom feels like the kindest, sweetest producer you can meet. He wasn't the kind of producer who pushed you very much, it was more of a nice atmosphere between you.
Yes, really, and it would have been different if Klas Åhlund, who is more confrontational, had been in the room. Now Klas and I are great mates, so it would certainly have been very therapeutic also, but it would have been a different process. If an artist comes in who is in such bad shape that they can't make a record, or a band where the main songwriter has just left them, then a Bob Ezrin goes in and says: "If you don't make the record, I'll make the record myself.” And he goes and makes Kiss "Destroyer" or Alice Cooper records. I'm not saying they didn't make them, just that you hear that Bob Ezrin made "Beth". It's a type of producer that's very different from a lot of other producers who maybe act a little bit more like buddies and cheerleaders and make the atmosphere good. Bob Ezrin doesn't care so much about the atmosphere in the room. Klas is somewhere in between, I would say. Given the condition I was in during "Prequelle", the result could probably have been different if Klas had come in. Ironically, there was actually talk of him doing it, but he didn't have the time and we'll never know how it would have turned out. I only know that it would have been different, but right there and then Tom was fantastic. I know that a lot of bands like to work with him because he is technically brilliant. He's really good at those typical sounds that people like: cool drums, guitar, bass, tone and clarity. He is also very "happy go lucky", a nice guy who sits and jokes all the time. Even if he has a bad day, it doesn't affect anyone else, which is convenient.
Let me compare it to when a writer contacts me after an interview and says "that was such a nice interview". For me, "nice" is not something positive in such a work situation and the result is often better when there is a little friction.
Mmm, and that is more Klas. There is more friction and more confrontation. And I was much better equipped for that at "Meliora" and later at "Impera". I felt better and was simply stronger. There wasn't the same survival instinct as on "Prequelle". If I think back, not about how the album turned out and how I have to live with it, but if I think back to the situation I was in, I was very anxious all the time. Even though I'm happy with the result, I wouldn't want to go through the recording again, even though Tom was great. Because it's hard to work when you're under attack. I realised that now when I made "Impera", when it was no longer like that. You are much more comfortable, it doesn't feel the same, you are more mature, you make better decisions, you are more controlled or dare to be uncontrolled. When things are this serious, you can end up in a freeze mode. Maybe that's also why there wasn't another song. The song that I miss doesn't exist because I simply squeezed out everything I had. If I had been in a different emotional state, I might have been more comfortable working out something at the last second from bits and pieces. But I felt that I really just wanted to get it done, deliver it, get back out on tour and start over again.
When you described being more mature during "Impera" you sounded like a 70-year-old, kind of like all the Aerosmith-like bands that have been fighting all their lives and now that they're in their 70s they say "we're soooo mature,” haha.
I think with all artists, especially when they're required to work in a group, there are many recordings that have been a collision with a wall because you're expected to function in a context all the time, whatever and whenever. But you do change and from one year to a few years down the line there can be a huge difference in a person's drive, hunger and priorities in life. Whether you have the same band structure as I do or whether you play in Metallica, people come in one state and they may end up in another, because you have different priorities at different times. It's unfortunately against the whole rock myth. I think that's the biggest problem for bands and businesses, that you always have this idea that if you just get to a certain stage - not just monetarily or career-wise, but you get to a certain stage of fun - then we've reached the status quo. But that is never the case! Never! There’s always something. Even in the best moments when everything is working, the band is awesome, everyone is working well, the crew is awesome, everyone is laughing, it's just a party all the time mentally, you have the world's best tour manager, everything is flowing and the tickets are selling, there will always be someone who doesn't like it and then has to break away and want to do their thing because it's no longer fun. It's usually somewhere in the lead-up to a stage where it's interesting and then once you've achieved it, it all becomes a bit boring. Just like in a relationship some people may eventually think, "well, that's a bit boring, I have to go out and do something else".
Since I was in the studio when you were laying down guitars on "Witch Image", my heart beats a little extra for that song and I thought it would be a great live song, but you've barely played it (at the time of writing it's Ghost's forty-fourth most played song live).
We did it during the "Prequelle" tour, or "A Pale Tour Named Death" as it was called. Then we did quite a few "an evening with" concerts, for better or worse. The advantage was that if you were a big fan of the band we actually played a lot of songs and actually a lot of the first albums, like "Idolatrine" - or "Witch Image". We did a set, a break and then a whole other set. That was a bit of a taste of what I was talking about earlier: doing a slightly larger set and then a slightly smaller one. You just shouldn't do it on the same night because it gets a bit stale. We played for two hours and 30 minutes or something and that wasn’t a good idea, haha. At least we did "Witch Image", but it has fallen behind a bit and it doesn't mean that we will never play it again, just that we don't do it right now. What I've been happy about is that there has been a feeling for the records that we've made recently, "Prequelle" and "Impera", that people still want to hear the new stuff. We haven't gotten to that stage that I talked about earlier when it doesn't matter anymore. Then it's very fun to try to find a new way to perform the songs, not technically, but suddenly a song like "Witch Image" might fulfill a very nice purpose between a completely new song and another song.
Let me speculate: in 30 years, I think "Rats" will be considered the great hard rock song, "Dance Macabre" the great hit and "Life Eternal" the great ballad. What do you think? Will this in the future be seen as the three big songs of the album?
Yes, that makes sense, I think. I understand that an instrumental song automatically ends up in the wake of a "best of" collection, in the sense that you do one in 30 years. I realise it's not a hit but the instrumental "Miasma" is a big part of our live show. It's strong and feels like such a keeper. Now we don't play "Life Eternal" very often actually, but it was very well received. For some reason people like to get married to it, I don’t know why, hehe. It's nice but it's also a bit like U2’s „I still haven't found what I'm looking for" and you don't use that one at a wedding. But people like it and I guess interpret it differently to me. It’s also a song that I don't think is fun to play live.
And why not?
Because I find it hard to play ballads. Physically, they don't feel the same as rock songs. I miss the "dunka dunka". Now everyone who plays music today knows what I mean - sorry, readers who don't play music - and it's that there's a small problem with having in-ear monitors. This means that you have to reach a certain frequency of beats in order to feel the music, unlike when you played at clubs with only a guitar amp behind you. You felt every single note you made and it just went through your body. Nowadays, I think it's sometimes hard when you play slow songs, because you have to trust that it sounds good, whereas when you play a rock song, you feel that it sounds good.
Does it also apply to "He Is” which is such a huge ballad, not least live?
Well, just the intro and then it gets going quite quickly and suddenly becomes a hard and rather fast-paced song. The classic ballad concept has always been that you play so-called edge beats to make it sound soft, while "He Is” is actually a rather hard-played song considering that it is a ballad. Once the drums come in – boom, boom – it's got AC/DC bite to it. It has a rock feel to it that "Life Eternal" doesn't really have. As I said, I don't think that "Life Eternal" is a lot of fun to perform, but that doesn't mean that it isn't quite good to listen to. It’s just that when I play "Dance Macabre" or "Mummy Dust" I feel that I can express myself physically more in line with what the text says and what it means.
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Coal
Leah Williamson x singer!reader
Warnings: TW suicide, past abuse, child abuse, alcohol abuse, funeral. If I missed anything let me know. Also thank you to @pers1st for first of all listening to my idea and telling me to write it when I had my doubts about it and secondly for reading over it and helping me, I hope it doesn’t disappoint
You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.
You and your brother Luca had been born twins in a quite little, middle of nowhere town in New England to a mother who would end up leaving you both in the middle of the night with a heavily abusive father, who would never be charged for the unthinkable things he had inflicted on both you and your brother as he was to high in the police force in your stupid little town, best friends with the Chief had some perks it seemed.
You and your brother had grown up constantly relying on one another to get through the hard terrifying nights, where all you both could wish for was for someone to whisk you both away from it all but this is the real world and the only people who could save you from the nightmare was yourselves.
You had a talent that you had only discovered when you where 13 after a teacher had approached you hearing you singing in the hall, before asking if you wanted to join the choir, you began thinking an extra hour away from home wouldn’t be so bad agreeing only on the lines that Luca could come and sit in the pews as you practiced not wanting to leave him alone to face your fathers abuse alone.
As you both got older you found ways to escape through singing and music, Luca taught himself the piano and you learned guitar before teaching the instruments to each other before you both began recording videos of yourselves and posting them to YouTube while also beginning to write your own songs.
It would take till just after your 19th birthday for both you and Luca to make it out of that stupid little town in New England, both of you deciding to get as far away as possible flying to London England just as your first ever song written by you and produced by Luca blew up “Homesick.” Loving the way stories could so easily be told through country music you decide that it would be the genre you both would focus on, you writing and performing and Luca writing and producing stating he was much to bad of a singer to ever try.
Living in London was a cultural shock for you both coming from a quite town to a big bustling city sure was a change but you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that not everyone here knew everyone and that you both got to start fresh.
Your label had rented a small two bed apartment for you both in Islington, just north of Central London where you both set up a small studio from the equipment supplied to you both and began working on an EP.
The EP was called Horizons both you and Luca had looked out on a same horizon every morning your entire childhood and hoped it would bring about change, only when you left to London did your Horizons change and so did your life finding it fitting you brought it to your label along with six songs on the EP one of which had already been released as a single.
Horizon
Track 1: Homesick
Track 2: Northern Attitude
Track 3: False Confidence
Track 4: Heavy Eyes
Track 5: Heading South
Track 6: Something in the Orange
Your label loved it approving a date that saw you and Luca able to preform at Country to Country in the O2, with your small set and unknown names your both were one of the first to perform, but feeling the rush of the crowd just after leaving the stage singing songs you both had written about parts of your childhood and leaving it behind felt magical and the crowd seemed to love it.
But that night wasn’t just the night you had both agreed that this is what you wanted to do, it was also the night you swore you found a four leaf clover. Leah had been standing in the crowd with Lydia Williams both big country music fans when she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of you. You stood on stage in a simple pair of black jeans, white top with some red writing she couldn’t make out and a guitar smiling at the boy at the piano before nodding to the band and when you began singing Leah swore she had felt her heart stop from how quick it was beating.
You and Luca had made your way down to the crowd Luca nudging you saying he was going to get a drink as you nodded making your way to stand at the back keeping an eye on him as a blonde girl strutted over to you ever so confidently “Hi.” You turned taking your eyes off of Luca as you turned meeting deep blue eyes “Hi.” You smiled back “I’m Leah.” You grasped her hand shaking it your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling at the blonde-Leah “hi I’m Y/n.” You didn’t notice that Leah seemed to forget to let go of your hand as you both began talking the English girl complementing your set as you complemented her outfit.
Luca turned back from the bar after downing yet another shot and beer looking to see where you had gone chuckling at the sight of you talking happily to a girl still holding her hand, sighing he grabbed three more beers and began walking over to you before clearing his throat and putting on a stern face “Y/n.” You unhappily tore your eyes away from Leah turning to see Luca “Luca this is Leah, Leah this is my twin brother Luca.” Leah’s shoulders seemed to relax at the confirmation he was in fact your brother and not your boyfriend “Beer.” You smiled thanking him before letting go of Leah’s hand and taking it before turning to look at him in surprise as he handed one to Leah “what can’t let your future girlfriend be left out of it can I.” You shoved him slightly as Leah choked on the beer coughing slightly as you apologised rubbing her back. Leah stood up shaking her head “well I better ask you out first then.” You laughed nodding agreeing to give her your phone number before saying goodnight and walking back behind the stage.
In the coming months yourself and Luca travelled promoting your EP both in the Uk and Europe as well as in the States refusing to step foot in New England just incase your father decided to show up, during this small tour you and Leah began talking nonstop either texting or FaceTiming and although Luca wanted to throw a pen at your head and tell you that there was an album that had to be written he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up and your entire mood changed when the English girls name appeared on your phone.
Once the small tour was over and you had settled back into London, Leah had worked up enough nerve to officially ask you on a date. You had bid Luca goodnight telling him to not wait up as you ventured into Central London with the blue eyed girl excitement building for your date.
London was everything you ever wanted, you and Leah had been dating for a few months now and not wanting to keep secrets you had sat her down and told her everything, everything about how your mother had decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left both you and Luca stood crying on the porch step as you watched her run down the driveway aged four in the middle of the night, how your fathers abuse only got worse from that point, how as you got older you both felt so hopeless as no one would do anything as he was a police officer and best friend to the Chief of police, how he thought he could change you from being gay when he saw you walking holding another girls hand. Leah had sat eyes pooled with tears grasping your hand so tightly as you told her eyes racking your body and zoning in on every little scare she could see before pulling you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Angel you don’t…you didn’t deserve any of that.” You didn’t cry but simply went limp against her as you felt the weight be lifted off your shoulders now that she knew, Luca had come in a short while later and Leah had moved you off her gently before grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, you watched eyes soft as your heart swelled they way she held him just as tight apologising for his trauma too, trauma she had never inflicted but felt so sick that no one in your town would help you both to scared of the consequences.
You had called Leah your four leafed clover, she was the luckiest thing you had ever found and while your relationship grew and your introduction to both her family and teammates saw that Luca turned to alcohol more than he ever had before.
You were both working on your first album when you had noticed how bad Lucas dependency on alcohol had gotten, writing songs often turned into nights you had to put him to bed he was to drunk to continue, or he wouldn’t show for meetings with the label, or dinner with you and Leah, or Leah’s family to busy sitting in a bar in London. You had called the label after a particularly bad day at one of Leah’s games at the Emirates, where your brother spent the entire match inside at the bar since he couldn’t drink alcohol in view of the pitch, drunk and moody you bid the Williamson’s goodbye apologising for your brother and sending Leah a quick text before dragging him home. The next morning you decided enough was enough and sat him down surprised when he broke down in your arms apologising over and over again that it was the only way he could find peace from it all even for just a few hours, that music simply wasn’t enough at the moment and in a way you understood, Leah gave you the same peace alcohol gave Luca but you knew it wasn’t a healthy option so you gave him an ultimatum, rehab and therapy or no more music, no more writing no more tours nothing. Agreeing to your ultimatum you rang your label telling them that the Album was on hold till Luca was healthy again before dropping him off.
You spent the month Luca was in rehab leaning on Leah and her family’s support, you had told them about yours and Lucas past the same day you dropped him off, and for the first time you knew what it was like to be loved by a mother and father. You cried into Leah’s chest that night until you fell asleep,nothing she said or did could make you stop and she quickly realised you needed this you needed to cry so she let you holding you tight and just reminding you of where you were, with her, with her family both you and Luca were safe. Amanda came up after you had fallen asleep to check on you her own heart breaking at the sight of you, you a girl who had the worst childhood imaginable handed to her and still found away to find love and make her daughter feel so loved, you a girl who was trying desperately to hold everything together for her brother because “he needs me, I’m fine I’ve got Leah but he, Luca needs me to be strong so strong is what I am.” Amanda placed her hand on your head “she’ll be ok Bubs, they both will, we got them.”
Luca had been allowed a visit half way through his rehab, the Williamson’s had all asked if they could come but his sponsor Danny had said it may be to overwhelming and asked for it to just be you, that didn’t stop them from waiting in the car park as you went in to visit him. He was different, brighter, happier and you almost cried at the sight for the first time ever he looked to be enjoying life not just trying to get by. You had ran straight for him sighing as you picked you up into a bear hug squeezing tight “Orlov.” You sighed relaxing into his arms at the use of your nickname.
Orlov a diamond, a cursed diamond and any time you tried to ask him why he had chosen it for you all those years ago he gave you one of two reason “Orlov, a cursed diamond that still shines through it all.” Or “Orlov, because pressure makes diamonds, and I just like the name of that one.” You laughed at the second slightly poetic but still funny just like him.
You had told him how supportive the Williamson’s had been for the both of you, how they were currently sat in the parking lot waiting for an update on him when he grabbed your hand “I’m glad you found people like them, to look after you.” You squeezed his hand “us, look after us they love you just as much.” Lucas didn’t want to believe you but you knew he did deep down, he knew it wasn’t just you that loved him anymore. You proceeded to tell him about you current life as a wag as well about the many songs you had been writing, some of them about your past, but for the first time ever you had also written about love and being in love with Leah. Lucas had told you he had also returned to writing and had a few stacked up ready to go when he was finished and for the first time he seemed happy about what he had written normally you had to tell him it was good, recording worthy and you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled.
15 days later Lucas got out of rehab with his therapy sessions block booked for the next while and for the first time in two months you guys began writing songs together trying to complete the album. Lucas was a changed man, he went to dinner without alcohol something you also did to support him, he attended Leah’s matches with you and actually watched and cheered instead of hiding in the bar and for the first time he seemed to be living.
Leah and her family had supported you both tirelessly and you couldn’t have asked for more, they were the family you had always wished would come and save you both as kids. Leah was around for nearly all of the album creation, Lucas teaching her piano and when he finally deemed her good enough you both agreed she could record it for the album.
Life was good, you both were happy in London writing and hanging out with friends and your found family so why had you woken up in the middle of the night with a feeling of doom looming over you as you untangled from Leah. You had gone into Lucases room to check on him something you had done since you could walk, wanting to make sure his chest would still rise and fall when your father had given you both a particularly hard beating. Only this time his bed was empty, walking into the hall you noticed all the lights were off so where could he be. You decided not to panic and not to wake Leah either instead getting your phone to call him.
You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.
As you recounted every move you both had made over the past three months it was obvious, Lucas had been getting all his ducks in a row, checking in on everyone and making sure the album was complete before leaving, but now it was done and set to be released next month he felt it was time.
You felt numb as you sat at the bottom of the stairs, you didn’t know how you knew he was gone, but you had all of a sudden just had the feeling of a missing piece, maybe it was your twin telepathy you both had so wished to have growing up, this was a sick joke if it kicked in now, now when he was gone.
You sat at the bottom of the stairs until you felt Leah’s hand touch your shoulder “Orlov.” Your heart clenched at the nickname, Lucas had given Leah special permission to use it, certain that she wasn’t going anywhere that you had her forever the engagement ring hidden in his dresser, not that you knew, certain that she knew about what you had been through, that she understood the meaning behind your nickname.
You didn’t have time to react as a knock came from your front door, looking at Leah smiling sadly you got up from the stairs and opened the door to two police men “Miss Y/n Y/ln.” You nodded, you didn’t feel Leah come up behind you as you listen to the police officers tell you about your brother, that you needed to identify him before they moved forward. You nodded along to it all before you asked “was he…do you think he was in any pain.” The officer looked at you softly “Hypothermia kicked in before he drowned, he simply closed his eyes and was gone, no pain, no struggle.” You nodded “no pressure.” You mumbled before turning to get dressed.
Leah couldn’t believe it, he was gone, Lucas was gone a boy she loved like a brother and she couldn’t understand why, he was happy, you both were happy with them, writing the album why, why had he done it. She had gone with you to the morgue and had said she would call her mum but every time she tried her fingers froze on the call button and words got caught in her throat. It was you who had done it driving you both to the Williamson’s house Leah unable to look at her family as you asked them all to come to the living room Leah sat beside you head buried into your neck as she grasped you tightly scared that if she let you go you would be gone too.
Amanda had let out a sob as you finished, Jacob got up and left the room and David just stared at you in shock as you held Leah impossibly closer watching this family, your family, Lucases family fall apart at the news, helpless you did what you had done since childhood and decided now was the time for you to stay strong, you could cry later and so you helped with dinner, helped tell the rest of the family, cousins, aunts and uncles and Leah’s grandparents who had adopted you both. The Arsenal girls had been informed all of whom made their way to your house along with the Williamson’s with flowers and food enough to stock the fridge for the next two months offering support and tears for you and your brother
In the coming weeks the Williamson’s helped you plan the funeral, you didn’t know how one went let alone one in England and you often found yourself and David talking to the undertakers for hours organising it. Until finally the day came, everyone had stayed in your house the night before and Amanda had started a big fry before you all headed to the church but you couldn’t eat, you were saying good bye to your brother, your other half, you were about to walk this stupid life alone and for the first time you cursed at him, you both had made it this far why, why did he decide he couldn’t take it anymore.
Leah had held your hand the entire way both of you following the coffin, with Amanda as Jacob, and David along with Leah’s cousins and Danny his sponsor carried him into the church. You got up and said a few words, talking briefly about your childhood before thanking the Williamson’s for everything they had done for you both, thanking Leah for being both you and Lucases rock when you felt like the world was to much. Heading to the crematorium you decided to swap out with one of Leah’s cousins wanting to carry your brother one last time, the sight made Leah sob as Amanda tried to hold her whispering into her ear, but nothing came of it you were saying goodbye to everything you ever knew and all she could do was hold your hand.
After it was all said and done and the after in the pub had finished you found yourself standing in the centre of his bedroom Leah lying asleep in yours. You looked at everything he had, all the pictures his rehab tokens, his guitar and piano, how were you supposed to do this without him, sing without him there beside you, live without him there beside you. You fell back onto his bed reaching your hand under his pillow when it made a crunch noise before finding a letter with your name on it “ORLOV”. You sighed knowing what it was you pulled it open.
Orlov,
I’m gone, I have left you on this earth alone and for that I am truly sorry, I’m sorry that I couldn’t fight any longer but I hope you understand how tired I am. Tired of living this lonely unforgiving life and I hope that someday you will understand, you have have been, my rock, my best friend and my twin sister through the hardest life no child should have to live, But you have come through it stronger, you have come through the it all a diamond in the rough. You see you are a diamond, formed under the pressure of our childhood but me, I am coal a dark rock not meant to last long on this earth.
I hope you know I have decided that now is the right time to say goodbye as I know you are going to be ok, you have the Williamson’s, the Arsenal and most importantly Leah. She is it for you, she is the only person you will ever need, she is your alcohol (bad comparison I know, she’s a lot healthier.) you are ready, ready to take on this life and conquer the world, but remember it’s ok to slip as long as you don’t fall.
One question you always asked me growing up was what did I think heaven looked like and I always told you I don’t know, but I do heaven is watching you fall in love with that girl sleeping in your room, watching you find a family who loves you the way you deserve that is heaven I love you always and forever.
I’ll be watching from stars Orlov .
Lucas TB
For the first time in weeks you cried, no you sobbed gut wrenching sobs and Leah found herself sprinting from your bed room catching you as you fell from the bed holding you tight whispering reassuring words into your ear crying along with you as you cried and cried, cried for your younger self, you cried for your current self but mostly your cried for him, for Lucas until you cried your self to sleep. Leah carried you back to bed before coming back into Lucases room and picking up his letter turning it over and finding a second one attached to it, opening it she found lyrics to a song and reading over it she felt her heart clench at the meanings behind them all.
The next morning Leah showed you the lyrics and before she even had time to ask if you wanted a coffee you were on the phone with your label canceling the album instead stating you had a different one.
Leah watched you tirelessly in the studio scared that if she left you alone in there you might never come back out, regretting her decision when you had dragged her in to record a piano piece.
A month later you handed your label a brand new album written mostly about you and Lucas with track six being for Leah, the label loved it and pushed for it to be released sooner than expected.
ORLOV
Track 1 Stick Season
Track 2 Bitter Winds
Track 3 Condemned
Track 4 Revival
Track 5 I Remember Everything (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)
Track 6 Sun to Me
Track 7 Dawns (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)
Track 8 Tourniquet (feat Leah Williamson.)
Track 9 Orange Juice
Track 10 Coal
With Leah's unwavering support, you found the strength to honor Lucases memory during the small tour you quickly been sent on leaving the grand piano seat empty until Leah came on to play her part in Tourniquet. You decided to end the small tour in London, your first headline show sold out at the roundhouse already playing five previous dates here due to the demand. Knowing this would be the last time of playing a small venue and with that a chapter closing and you having to enter one without Lucas you sighed retuning the guitar as you spoke to the crowd “My twin brother Lucas wrote this last song I’m about to play.” You cleared your throat looking out into the crowd before turning to the empty piano seat “We had a very hard childhood, but I knew as long as I had him, I’d be ok. Lucas left me on this earth alone just a couple months ago, but he knew something I didn’t, he knew I wasn’t really going to be alone, that I had a family that loved me, a girl who loved me even more and that really he wasn’t leaving he was just tired of his adventures on earth and wanted to see what the stars were like.” You sighed turning back to the crowd “this next song is called coal, and it talks about the pressures of life and I just want you all to know that when you feel like life is to full of pressure that when you can’t seem to find the light at the end of the tunnel that maybe look down you might find your four leaved clover, I got mine she’s in the crowd tonight, but there is always someone nobody here is alone.” You smiled catching Leah’s eyes “this is Coal.”
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ohraicodoll · 1 year
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Be Still
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(Gif Credit Joel-Miller) Joel Miller x fem!reader The Last of Us (Show/Game) 1.4k Words (3rd POV) Summary: It takes her a while to see what’s happening to him. Joel is having a panic attack.  (I’ve never written so fast but had to after watching ep 6!!)
It happened twice before she realized what it was.
At first she worried it was a heart attack. That Joel was having a heart attack in the middle of the forest and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t a knife wound or gunshot, nothing she could patch up and stitch together. She hadn’t been a doctor in any life, was more skilled in killing than healing, and they didn't have medicine to give him. His age had never been a thing she cared about or was too concerned with. The world wore them down equally, harshly, and he always seemed to defy the number. Was stronger than anyone his age like through his rage he could defy his body. It wasn’t a heart attack though. She could see the bright whites of his eyes, the way they unfocused and his breath would hitch under the press of his hand against his chest. The shallow breaths coming in and out in frantic off-kilter beats. It wasn’t the cold like he tried to play it off as, wasn’t his age or at least not entirely. Panic attack. Joel Miller was having panic attacks and was trying his best to hide them. They’d started after a few close calls. Ellie getting hit or her almost getting her head shot off. Running from a small horde that had built up inside a locked shop they’d inadvertently let loose. The more close calls they had, the more she could see his anxiety build up. And now it was flooding over, manifesting in a way she was startled to see in the man who always seemed like an impenetrable fortress. He was never afraid. But that was fear in his eyes as he rubbed his hand over and over against his chest, staring at the infected at her feet sporting a new bullet hole. So close. It’d been so close to her. Had dropped out of the second floor window of the cabin they stood outside of. And she hadn’t reacted fast enough but he had. Her eyes took in the way he stared, the hollow blank gaze, the twisting of his lips as they shook. Panic. There was panic and fear there. “Ellie, go clear out that shack and start laying out camp for the night,” she ordered and tried to keep her voice steady, not wanting to give away that anything was up, “We’ll clean this up and patrol the grounds real fast.” The teen sighed audibly and tucked her gun away into her pocket overdramatically, not noticing Joel’s silence as she walked towards the small open shack a dozen yards away. The house the infected had come from was dilapidated, all the windows broken and looking like it was sinking in on itself. Not the safest. As soon as the girl was a good distance away and out of direct view, she walked towards Joel slowly as if approaching a skittish animal. His breath was a wheeze in the silence and he almost jumped when her hands reached out and touched his cheek. “Sit, come on. Nice and slow, just sit on the ground,” she coaxed him, cupping his face and drawing his attention away from the dead body. His eyes were glazed but he sank to his knees, hard and crunching the dried leaves. He was still upright, not allowing himself to fall onto his heels and sit completely, so she followed his lead. Knees to knees, her breath mingled with his and one hand went over the ones clutched to his chest, “Come on, Miller, I need you to take deep breaths in and deep breaths out. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” He was shaking, fingers digging into his shirt like he wanted to try and claw his heart out. His beard was rough against her palm, the silver hairs catching the dying light. Joel looked so lost. He never looked like that, was a constant pillar of confidence against the world. Unshakeable. To see him look that way, scared for the first time in a long while, had something twist inside her. His breaths were still shallow, lips quivering, so she mimicked the routine. Loud breaths in, deep sighs out, “You gotta breathe for me, Joel. In and out, real steady.” Awareness was slowly seeping into his eyes and her fingers slipped between his, clutched in his grasp. He focused on her and started to breathe, swallowing heavily. They were broken, stuttered gasps but he was trying. Her hand stayed on his cheek and she could feel each attempt, see the color and life come back to him. “There you are,” she whispered with a gentle smile, one that was usually reserved for Ellie. Joel never liked things gentle, rejected softness, so she had never offered it. Everything between them was rough, brutal, from the way they fought to how he would smash his mouth against hers during those tiny moments of privacy. 
They had hated each other and then…they didn’t. But it was never gentle, wasn’t love or even affection. 
She didn’t expect to be the one to keep him from breaking apart. His breathing was getting steadier, more confident. She almost smiled wider, “Okay. Go over the supplies we have in the first aid kit.” A furrow appeared between his brows, the first hint of Joel coming back, “What?” “Just do it, Tex,” it was a command but stayed coaxing, soft even as his fingers gripped her own so hard her bones protested. His eyes flickered all over while he struggled to think and her forehead came to rest against his, “Five things then in the kit.” Their matched breathing warmed her and with a stutter, Joel started listing things. Gauze. Tape. Needle and thread. Scissors. Tweezers. “Technically, that’s six,” she smirked and was pleased that by the end of the list, his breathing was back to normal and he was no longer shaking. “You can’t have a needle without thread. It’s one item,” Joel huffed roughly, not much humor in the comment. Silence took them over and neither moved. She knew his knees had to be hurting against the cold hard ground because hers were starting to, but she didn’t want to be the first one to pull away. She’d stay kneeling there all night if it was what he needed because somewhere along the lines of months they’d all been traveling, Joel had become one of hers. Not only Ellie, but this gruff older man who bit off her head yet gave her the bigger pieces of jerky and would sometimes stop her to kneel and tie her shoes for her. He took care of them both. In the dark he shared his favorite bands growing up and in the light acted like the sight of her made him angry. And now holding him after seeing him deal with a panic attack, she wondered how much of what he felt was hidden under layers and layers. If she’d ever actually get to know Joel and not only what he wanted her to see. Because he wasn’t unstoppable, wasn’t fearless. He was petrified. Slowly, she leaned forward and grazed his nose with her own. The prickle of his mustache and beard against her skin drove tingles across her skin, his breath warm against her lips. He didn’t stop her, didn’t shove her away and walk off even after she’d witnessed a vulnerability. Instead he leaned forward and met her lips with his, the barest of touches. More a press than an actual kiss. It was the gentlest thing she ever felt from the man and it seemed to do more than all the times he tasted her skin and pressed his tongue against her. She pressed harder, kissed him deeper, and tried to pour out everything she knew he would reject out loud. You’re okay. I’m okay. I’ve got you. His hand gripped hers but softened in answer. They wouldn’t talk about it. She knew as much not to push that. But he didn’t try to play it off and instead let her keep that secret of his and take on its burden. It was one of the few things they shared and she would guard it, guard him as fiercely as that little girl.
Even after she broke their kiss, gave him a small smile and helped him get to his feet so they could go check on Ellie, he didn’t let go of her hand.
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cxrsed-angel · 1 year
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Similar Worries
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Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, age gap (reader in her 20s, joel in his 50s).
A/N: I wrote this immediately after ep 6. There are spoilers for the episode. gif credits: @joel-miller
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You had been walking in the woods for few hours after you left the couple’s cabin. You were in the back talking to Ellie, telling her how she cant go around tell people they’re like a thousand, especially when they didn't kill you and had given you soup.
When you see Joel stop walking, you walk up closer and see him breathing heavier. You put your hand on his shoulder, watching in fear as he grabbed his chest; you didn't know what to do if he had a heart attack in the middle of the fucking woods in the snow. 
“Joel, what's wrong, are you okay.” you watch in a panic as he nods his head, but he's still breathing heavily. You look around, trying to find somewhere for him to sit but there’s nothing. You try to calm yourself because the last thing you need is to freak out, making Ellie even more scared. You turned to look at Ellie but she was frozen in fear staring as Joel continue struggling to breathe behind you. Your attention is back on him when you heard his voice. 
“Im fine, just the cold air.” he said slowly, still trying to catch his breath; Ellie nods and walks closer.  But you stay silent, frozen in fear trying to rake your brain for any information on heart attacks but you come up blank. You realized didn't know what you would do if he had a heart attack; you're more mad at yourself at the fact that this situation hadn’t even crossed your mind. 
“Good because I don't know what we would do if you had a fucking heart attack right there.” You hear Joel let out a small laugh at Ellie’s joke as she lightly slapping his back as the two of them continued to walk ahead. But you didn't believe him. Ellie was right; what do you do if he has fucking heart attack in the middle of the goddamn forest in the snow. You knew it was something more than the cold air but decided not to press on it. But you kept an eye on him the rest of the way. 
The whole time you were walking, you were quiet. You tried not to show it but, it really scared you, it made you realize how old Joel was compared to; you always knew of course. When he complained about his knees when going upstairs, he talked about his back pain from sleeping on the ground countless nights. But it was always light-hearted, not life or death. You knew he had bad hearing from shooting, but this scared the shit out of you. 
When you were surrounded by the group, you saw Joel was different again, he was off, but you didn't have time to focus on it. You were just relieved they didn't shoot anyone. As you rode on the back of Joel’s horse, all that replayed in your head was how Joel seemed off. Something in his eyes that you couldn't quite figure out. You think back and remember he seemed off ever since you guys had left Kanas; you just never noticed until now, and with the troubled breathing, you were starting to get concerned. 
After Maria and Tommy gave you guys food and told you what house you would be in you immediately needed to show, you also thought it was best to let Joel talk to his brother alone. You went into what you assumed was the main bedroom to shower. After the shower and changing into some clothes, you sit on the bed, and you could hear Maria come and talk to Ellie, you knew you should see what they were talking about, but you figured Maria wouldn't do anything. As you sit on the bed, you couldn't stop seeing Joel struggling to breathe, and how helpless you were, you didn't know what to do, you couldn't save him you just watched. You had gotten lucky today, but one day you're not gonna be lucky; what if you can't save him, just freeze there like you did today? Tears fall down your face as you realize how little you could do.
You hear boots come in the room and assume it was Joel; you look up and see him looking at you. You could tell had been crying, you expect him to sit down next to you, but he stays standing, staring at you. “Have you been crying,” you asked quietly, looking at him, You could see in his eyes something wasn't right, and you wondered if it was something had happened. You waited for him to say something, but he remained silent, staring at you. You try not to sniffle but couldn't help it. 
“Have you been crying.” he repeats as he steps closer to the bed, but you weren't gonna let him change the topic off of him. 
“You first.” you said through snuffles. 
“It was just emotionally seeing Tommy, that's all.” you stare back at him, you knew it wasn't that, and you were a little offended that he thought that would work on you. You knew him better than that. But two could play that game. 
You took your shoes off and climb up into bed and lie down. Joel watches you, confused with frown eyebrows. You let out a fake cry, “it's my period, my emotions and hormones and everything.” You tell him with exaggerated sadness laced in your voice. You knew you were being childish, but you didn't care; you weren't gonna let him get away with that shitty lie. 
He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm as he gives you a deadpan stare. “Really?” was all he said, which made you even more upset. You sit up on the bed and stand up, glaring at him as he remained on the bed. You had been worried all day about him, and he wanted to be closed off to you; you weren't gonna take it. 
“No Joel don't “really” me you know  it's bullshit either tell me or dont tell me, but dont lie to me, god forbid I ask you what's wrong.” you couldn't stand him right now you turn to leave the room, but he voice stopped you making you turn around. 
“We’re staying here,” he mumbled quietly as he stares at the ground, adverting your eyes. You frown at him, not understanding what he meant. You hated when he talked in half sentences leaving out details. Who was we, why are we staying here, and also, why had he been crying? 
“What” you asked sternly, pissed at him for not being clear and deflecting the topic yet again. You walk closer to him, narrowing your eyes at him, waiting for Joel to answer. Joel sighs before looking up into your eyes, “You and I are staying in Jackson, it's safe they have food and shelter it's better for you.” he explains, but his voice is still shaky you could tell he was leaving something out and considering the fact he didn't mention Ellie you knew there was more than what he was saying. Also, he didn't talk to you about it; if you wanted to stay or not, you weren't gonna let him dictate where you go and make important choices without. 
You nod, “okay, well me and Ellie will go to the fireflies to make a cure, you can stay here and live out your suburban fantasy okay.” you replay, full of sarcasm; you watch as Joel's face frowns in frustration. He shakes his head and puts his face in his hands for a few minutes before looking back at the ground. 
“You and I are staying, Tommy is taking Ellie, he’s made the trip before, and he can handle it.”. You were getting tired and annoyed with this whole conversation going in circles and getting nowhere. You didn't understand why he wanted to leave Ellie; why didn't he want to continue? You’ve already gotten this far. But you stopped and remembered earlier when he couldn't breathe, and it clicked. You saw it in his eyes when Sam attacked Ellie when the dog started sniffing Ellie. It wasn't a heart attack. It was a panic attack. He was scared. 
Your eyes softened when you realized and came and sit down next to him. You place your hand on his face, slowly turning it, so he's looking at you. “Joel it wasn't the cold air wasn't it,” you stare full of concern into his brown eyes. You knew you were right when you see a tear fall down his cheek. You grab his hand in yours, rubbing it slowly; you didn't say anything, just waiting until he was ready. 
It was quiet for a moment as he cried silently before speaking again. “I get these dreams it’s a different situation, but they all end the same you or Ellie, or hell sometimes the both of you, dead while I just stand there frozen not doing anything, just like I did with-” you watch, choke back a sob before continuing. “Im just failing, I failed Tess, and Sarah, and in my dreams, I fail you and Ellie that’s all I do is fail.” his voice breaks at the end of the sentence as he continues to cry. 
You feel your heart break at how much pain he has been in and how this had been hurting him for so long. You reach up to his face wiping the tears as they continue to fail. You stay silent, waiting for him to finish. You feel him lean into your hand as you gently caressed his face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing. 
“I don't know what I’ll do if something happened to you or Ellie, I froze when that kid came up behind me, too damn old to hear them and too slow to do something. I couldn't hear when Henry and Sam snuck up on us. It's only a matter of time before I fuck up and put someone in danger, until I freeze at the wrong time again. Lately I've been so godman scared that my heart feels like it stopping and-” 
“and you can't breath and you get dizzy like you're gonna pass out.” you interrupt him, knowing how it feels. You see his eyes widen a little when you describe what happens. You’ve had panic attacks before you knew they were scary as shit. You remember the first time you felt one you thought you were dying. 
You wipe another tear that falls from his eyes. “They happen to me too sometimes, not as bad when I was on my own after my parents died. I used to get them almost every day then, I got one the first time I saw a clicker all,  I did was crouch down to the floor into ball and cried until it went away then I ran. You’re not failing Joel, you arent gonna fail, You didnt fail when you got us out of Kansas with all those infected and a whole town chasing after us.” you looked into his eyes, but you could tell he was still uncertain, they were still full of worry and disbelief 
“Joel its okay to be afraid I’m fucking terrified almost all the time, Im scared that one of us is gonna catch a cold in the middle of the winter and die, Im scared Im gonna sneeze at the wrong time a room full of clickers and get ripped apart, Im scared-” you paused as you felt your tears coming again, “Im scared Im not gonna be able to protect you, that something gonna happen and I won't be able to do anything to help you.” you smile faintly “I guess we have similar fears huh Texas” you tried to lighten the mood as you continue to cry. 
You see him start to smile too through the tears; his hand came up and wiped your tears. You feel his hand wrap around your waist, pulling you into a hug as your cries came out harder. You thought back on how you thought he was having a heart attack and how helpless you were. 
“You fucking scared me back there, thought you were having a heart attack or something.” you pull away looking into his eyes as yours were filled with tears. “I cant fucking save you from a heart attack Joel, you get shot I know what to do, you get stabbed I know what to but-” You feel yourself choke on your sobs, unable to speak for a second. “I always thought a bite was the worst I had to worry about, you cant come back from a bite, I cant do anything about that, I made peace with that, but what about heart attack, or heart failure, what the fuck do I do then?” You cry out as he pulled back into a hug, rubbing your back as you try to steady your breath. 
You close your eyes as you relax against his chest, and you stay there, in each other embrace, as your comfort each other through your similar worries. Joel pulls away first gazing into your teary eyes. He wants to comfort you, reassure you, but nothing comes out of his mouth. He wants to tell you that nothing gonna happen to him, but he can't. He understands where you're coming from, he's nearing his 60s while you're still in your 20s. He hates himself for allowing you to get this close; he knew you were younger, that you deserved someone better than an old man. But you convinced him, told him over and over that you only wanted him. 
“How about we cross that bridge when we get there okay honey.” he attempted to reassure you but you looked into his eyes, seeing the wrinkles around the outside of his eyes, across his forehead, and lining the rest of his face, the grey in his facial hair and you couldn't you, couldn't do that because you’ll be unprepared when you got to that bridge there’s no crossing it. 
You shake you head as you feel your eyes filling with tears again, “I cant Joel, I cant fucking wait because we wont cross it I will, just me and Ellie watching as you fall to the ground unable to do shit.” Your lips trembling thinking about him being in pain and dying while you stand there frozen with Ellie in horror helplessly. “I dont want to lose you Joel not like that.” you whispered before leaning back into his arms. 
Joel thought about it and knew you were right; he knew you were gonna worry yourself to death about his health, and there want much else he could do to change that at the moment. So he just continued holding you in his arms, racking his brain for a solution but there wasn't an easy fix. He thinks about your words earlier, and how you were so good and quick to guarantee that he hasn't failed and that he wasn't going to, he wanted to do the same for you. But he couldn't find the right then to say, so he let you sob into his shoulder until he hears you stop.
“My brother gonna be a dad.” you widen your eyes at the sentence he just blurted out; you pull away, wiping the tears and snot off your face; you stare into his eyes, confused, until you realized what's happening. “You dont know what to say do you.” you watched as he nodded his head, disappointed at himself for not being able to get his words out, but you didn't blame him; you knew he said more through actions. You remember the first time he tried to say you’re more than a friend to him and watched as he continuously rambled about how much you mean to him and getting so far off topic he started using construction terms as a metaphor for your relationship. You knew what he meant. But you let him continue fumbling over his words before saying you felt the same. Since then, you’ve got used to him showing how he cares about you through his action and not getting too mad at his lack of communication. 
“Do you wanna talk about that or were you just trying to lighten the mood.” You asked him. You knew talking about babies, and parenting was hard for him, but you were unsure if he was ready to talk about how that information was affecting him. You watched as he shook his head and knew he was trying to lighten the mood; at least that was his intention, not quite sure it worked. 
“Trying to lighten the mood but I think I did the opposite.” he replied with an unsure smile; you let out a small laugh at his awkwardness, finding it cute. You nod and leaned forward, kissing his cheek. Before laying in the bed, you watch as he took his shoes off and joined you, laying in front of you pressing his back against you chest. Your arms wrap around his waist as you relaxed against him. You knew that both you and him had a lot of things that you’ll probably never gonna heal from or not worry about. You knew there's always gonna be a wound and hole in him from his daughter, and you were always gonna worry about him and his health, But at least you had each other at this moment; that was all you focused on. 
“I love you Joel, I know its hard but well figure it out, well get through this together, you arent alone.” you spoke softly as your head lay on his shoulder. You feel his hand come on top of yours as it rested on his stomach, rubbing them. 
“I know baby, I-uh I love you too.” he whispers back; you smile against his shoulder as he verbally said it back for the first time. You didn't want to make too big a deal of it; you always knew he loved you. He showed it in multiple ways, but you will admit it sounded nice. you snuggled up, pulling him closer into your chest as you closed your eyes and let this awful day end.
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absolutebl · 4 months
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Favorite first kiss?
Favorite First Kisses!
Doozie of a question. Here we go...
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1 Until We Meet Again
I mean COME on. How could this not be the #1 best first kiss? It's so gentle and so good and so hot and just... EVERYTHING a first kiss should be in life. A++ romantic
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2 Old Fashion Cupcake
THE LONG SHOT. The desperation. The finger bite. The oozing THIRST. A++ quality desire incarnate
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3 Why R U? Korea
Korea, scooping in a top spot? It's just the body language, the striding in, dropping the backpack, the surprised MUTUAL response (no flinching), and all the yearning. A++ want
(Foreshadow: This may... or may not... be my top kiss of 2023.)
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4 Bad Buddy
Seriously boys, BOYS! You had to make it so beautiful and so painfully heartbreaking at the same time? Thanks for that. A++ pain
(They may have a light kiss before this one, I can't remember. I keep meaning to do a BB rewatch but I have to gear up for it.)
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5 Semantic Error
I mean, well, OBVIOUSLY. Just A++ they perfect, no notes
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6 Second Chance
I am pretty sure this one got best kiss of 2021. All you KinnPorche stans are sleeping on this little gem = Tong delivering what amounts to BLs best drunk kiss ever. FIGHT ME. A++ confused needy babies
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7 About Youth
Speaking of sweet af first kisses from first timers. This one drips in sweet innocence including a rainbow and some smiles. A++ first sweethearts
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8 HIStory 2 Crossing the Line
Okay the actors kiss for a dream sequence before this but this is the characters' first kiss, so that kinda counts, right? It's just such a pretty kiss. A++ stay on target, stay on theme, utterly unique
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9 My Dear Gangster Oppa
Ya know this show is just so much fun and so solid and this pair deserves more accolades then their previous series afforded them. A++ finally, well done you
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10 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Okay it's just all the dialogue and execution around this kiss is great and then the kiss ALSO doesn't disappoint. Plus permission and snark and so much more. A+++ class & storytelling
Also, whaan (sweet) is a really good word to have seared into one's brain in Thailand. Useful when ordering drinks.
Okay they kinda kissed before but this is the one that counts:
I didn't know how else to put this category but I had to include it so I could include this kiss:
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We Best Love
The crying bridge-top kiss. I mean COME ON. One of my favorite kisses of all time. I love it when the weep+smooch.
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La Pluie
Honestly? All their kisses are good so I can't remember if this was their first but, it great. Frankly, off all their kisses it's not my absolute favorite, but they deserve a mention because... wow boys. Just... wow.
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The Eclipse
Because of their dynamic I am pretty sure there was something before this one, but this one lives in my head.
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Be Loved In House I Do
I'm not sure this counts as their first because I can't remember the sequence in BLIHID (he through line is a bit wonky in my brain) but it is a killer kiss.
There should be more Taiwan but...
The thing is, once a Taiwanese BL starts delivering great kisses they just keep it up. So unless the narrative puts particularly strong plot intent on the "firstness" of that first kiss, they just get all sexy domestic muddled in my head.
Honor the Crumbs - Sides & Shorts, Best First Kisses
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Some More
"You can kiss me, heong."
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2 Moons 2 - MingKit
It's just such a sweetly perfect first kiss of the very first time variety. Before About Youth, we had these two.
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Cutie Pie - NueaSin
Kissing the kiss that won them their own series. No other audition needed. In the land of amazing kisses, and up against Zee, this ONE stood way out. Very good boys. Very good indeed.
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kiss x kiss x kiss - perfect scandal (AKA the office ep)
Look, this is the kiss we should have gotten in Cherry Magic. It's great, both the hesitant "permission given" first part and everything that comes next. Track this down if you can, it's a lovely little short from Japan.
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My Secret Love - TimMai
Very minor side dishes but they were all I cared about in this show. They gave me the kiss I wanted even if they didn't get the screen time the deserved.
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You're My Sky - SanAi
We all know they stole this show, not that there was much to steal.
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Kiss Me Again - PeteKao
Maybe not the best as a kiss, but it was 2016 and this was SO SIGNIFICANT to the fandom, to the plot of the show, to coming out, to EVERYTHING. This is THE TayNew kiss. I will never forget it. Never.
I don't have a good screen cap but MarkOuwen's kiss in the taxi in Love is Science? was also fantastic.
(source)
Kisses as of Dec 2023. Not responsible for great first kisses that come after this date.
Opinion and preferences based on these ideas of good kiss chemistry.
I want you thoughts, RT and add your favorites or leave a comment. I'm sure I'm forgetting some.
MORE?
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xaldalneir · 1 year
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Spoilers for Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Episode 12
Hi Tumblr! So, I’m breaking, like, a FIVE YEAR bout of silence and shit, but I can’t just sit quiet about this one. Witch from Mercury has been one of the best Gundam Series I’ve had the pleasure of watching. Today, the last episode of this cour ended on a heavy note. Now the majority of takes that I’ve seen have been saying that Suletta was either totally cavalier in what she did to Nameless Grunt Number 5 or that Prospera activated her somehow with her typical ‘move forward, gain two’ line. So, mainly to fight the opinion that Suletta is now just suddenly a murderous psychopath, I’d like to point out a few things. I’ll be laying out evidence from the series, from the Prologue story, Cradle Planet, and my own observations. So, first and foremost, Suletta has shown to act very impulsively whenever Miorine is in any sort of danger (slapping Guel in episode 1, her confrontation with Shaddiq in episode 9). She trusts Miorine implicitly and after last episode, after having been separated from her after a really tender moment, she’s undoubtedly panicking about whether or not she’s okay. Even Prospera can see that, because she makes sure to namedrop Miorine when she tells Suletta that if she gets in Aerial she can save everyone.  The GUND-bits told her that the transport and Earth House is safe. She activates what I assume is Permet Score 6 (same tetrahedron shield as ep. 9, along with Prospera telling Delling in ep. 11 that that’s as high as Aerial’s PS went during the Grassley duel), and is able to locate Miorine. I find it hard to believe that she didn’t also see Delling and Nameless Grunt Number 5 (because I’m guessing that the bits identified them via their personal Permet ID). She came into that room hard and fast, and Aerial immediately adopted a combat stance. That wasn’t the entrance of someone who knew the danger was over and was going to enter through a proper airlock or hanger. Then, of course, we get to the slap. I’ve seen people talk about how she could’ve just blocked or captured Nameless Grunt Number 5, but he had just overcome his shock at Aerial’s arrival and leveled his gun to finish Miorine and Delling. He was about to kill them. Suletta didn’t have time to think ‘Oh I can solve this nonviolently’. With everything we’ve seen from her so far, I’d be shocked if her first and only thought, and the one that she and Aerial acted on, wasn’t ‘Miorine is in danger I need to stop him’. Then, she gets out of Aerial. There’s blood everywhere, she trips and falls. Suletta, who we’ve never seen properly navigate any kind of social interaction ever. Suletta, who just minutes ago was in shock, nearly shut down over her mother having killed Nameless Grunts 1-4. Suletta, who just watched Nameless Grunt Number 5 try to kill Miorine, does not have the emotional capacity to deal with all of this. So she does what she’s had working for her so far with Earth House. She plays it off as clumsy, as silly. Suletta Forgetta indeed. A brief side bar on those who think the motto ‘run, lose one, move forward, gain two’ is some kind of trigger phrase, the Prequel story Cradle Planet shows us that Suletta has been using that since the age of nine to get over things she’s afraid of. She comes to Aerial one night because the elders at the Mercury colony don’t respect or trust her. She’s in tears. She climbs into Aerial’s cockpit, and she repeats that phrase until she’s brave enough to face the world again. Flash forward, she’s 17 now (last age given in the story was 15, but with context clues we can assume this next part is right before ep. 1). Prospera’s putting her plan into action, Miorine is being married off to whoever claims the title of Holder at Asticassia. Suletta comes to Aerial again. She tells her about what’s happening (Aerial knows already, Prospera told her the night before. Aerial doesn’t want Suletta to go, doesn’t want her to be used for revenge). She starts to panic, she’s anxious. Then she tells herself, ‘If you run, gain one. Move forward, gain two. Right, Aerial?’. She uses the words to propel herself forward once again. Just as she has done before, and just as we see her do so many times throughout the series. Suletta is clearly coded as neurodivergent. Whyever that is and whatever she’s specifically coded to be, I’m not going to speculate on, but she doesn’t understand social graces. She doesn’t always know the right way to respond. She defaults to a lot of reactions (hiding, playing it off) because those are what have worked for her. She’s not some manic psychopath suddenly and gleefully happy to kill, and she’s not the Winter Soldier waiting to be activated (that might be Aerial, if the red eye stickers in the Gunpla kit are any indication). She’s just doing her best. And that’s not always going to be the right thing to do, as we saw. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
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raisedbythetv89 · 6 months
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Anyone who says "Rory should have married Logan" or that Emily and Richard were a good influence on Rory or that they weren't "that bad" of parents to Lorelai just DO NOT GET IT and "it" being literally the entire messaging of the whole show.
Rory started at chilton when Lorelai left (literally Rory had her birthday party in ep 6 and her first day of chilton is ep 2)
They have the exact same name, look the same and it's said countless times that Rory is just like her mother. So, Rory is picking up in Lorelai's "correct life path" (according to Richard and Emily) exactly where Lorelai left off when she had her and left home, continuing at the "good schools" going to an ivy league college, has a coming out party, joins the D.A.R. etc. Rory has the life Lorelai's parents always wanted for Lorelai AND YET!!!
Rory still doesn't marry "her christopher" aka Logan, but is having his baby and is choosing to be a single mom while Jess is her endgame because Luke is Lorelai's endgame and Jess is Luke and Rory is Lorelai.
Literally the ENTIRE POINT of the show is that everything that Emily and Richard were so worked up about and prioritized all of Lorelai's life about her life choices and how she "threw her life away" because she got pregnant, moved out and became apart of the working class and didn't go to any ivy league college and marry Christopher do not matter and the idea that she "threw her life away" and wasted her potential is absolute bullshit. Because Rory does all the things Lorelai didn't get to do and the results were IDENTICAL except Rory wasn't a teen mom and she would likely continue to live at home with Lorelai and Luke when her baby is first born breaking the those specific Lorelai/Emily cycles because Lorelai did her best to meet her daughter's emotional needs and therefore was able to have a infinitely better relationship with her and Rory is always willing to accept her help and support because it doesn't come at the emotional cost that Lorelai getting help from her parents took because they are literally emotionally abusive and controlling parents - they aren't just bad parents they are abusive (that's a whole other post but there are people who are just human and make mistakes like most of the other characters in the show and then their are abusive ones and Emily especially but also Richard emotionally abuse their daughter even though they help with money and aren't completely horrible 100% of the time that doesn't make them not abusive and while that is never explicitly stated we see and hear how horrible all of the other chilton parents and Logan's circle of friends parents are to their kids demonstrating just how horrible parents in Emily and Richards social circle truly are and it has nothing to do with Lorelai "being difficult or stubborn" as Emily tries to claim but I digress...)
That point of, what Emily and Richard prioritized their entire lives is all bullshit, is literally driven home by Emily's speech at the end of AYITL that "all of this is bullshit!" Emily acknowledges - once Richard is gone and therefore no longer fits into her society like she used to as a wife and married woman - that playing along with all of the societal norms and her ultra-wealthy social circle is SOUL SUCKING and bullshit! She is SO HAPPY to have a home deed with HER NAME ON IT. She has an interested suitor but it's clear she never plans to marry him and she gets a job at a museum as a tour guide for crying out loud!! The old Emily would be horrified by that - she's literally making choices so similar to Lorelai's by the end showing Lorelai's choices WERE THE RIGHT ONES. Moving away from an environment that hurt you and misunderstood and abused you and fighting and working your ass off to build a life that's yours. Even building a loving community with her housekeepers family that moves in with her!!!
All of Luke's "rantings" about the wealthy and corporate greed, owning and operating a diner even though he's shown to have the cooking skills and know-how to do "more". Taking something he inherited from his father but making it his own by turning it into a diner instead of keeping it a hardware store. Whereas by the end of AYITL Christopher is working within his family's business, staying on the path his parents wanted for him and it's the same with Logan - marrying the woman his parents want him to marry and working for his father - The show tells and shows us over and over again, not just doing what society tells you you should do with your life but knowing yourself well enough to decide for yourself and taking the time to find out is what is best and you shouldn't let anyone else dictate that for you. The show is very pro "break out of the boxes society tries to shove you into"
There is a whole other convo to be had about privilege that comes with being white and thin and pretty and coming from money that more easily enables your ability to do so as well as Lorelai having a community in Stars Hollow that has always supported her which allowed her to leave home at 16 with a newborn and build a great life for herself because if she failed she wouldn't end up homeless because her support system and her parents provided a safety net so the message is very much only aimed at the characters within the show that have the ability to make your own way in life but that is what Rory and Lorelai do (Rory's really starts with rejecting Logan's marriage proposal when she graduates and taking a grueling, low paying campaign job instead of using any of her many connections to get her a more prestigious and stable position whereas before she was absolutely on the "conveyer belt" described by the "other daughter" of the wealthy family of Harvard alumni who helped Rory with all her college application questions, who chose not to go to college like her two other siblings) as well and Luke and Jess both make their own way and build a life that best suits their passions and skills. Which is why Luke/Lorelai and Jess/Rory are endgame because you can't have a relationship between someone who fits into their societal mold and one who broke out, it just doesn't work. Logan's affair with Rory shows he has the desire to break out of his mold but never has the strength to do so, just like Christopher which is why they could never truly keep up with the Gilmore Girls.
The show does have flaws in it's execution of this message because of internalized misogyny, white supremacy, and fatphobia that we are still struggling to get out of writers rooms to this day so don't think this post is me saying everything about the show or Rory and Lorelai is perfect because they absolutely are flawed characters who makes questionable decisions and mistakes but to me they are all very realistic of 2 pretty white women in the early 2000's dealing with all of the trauma that came from Richard and Emily's abuse and Rory being raised by a teen mom and a completely unreliable father for most of her childhood.
Anyway Team Jess, Team Luke and Team Rory receives entirely too much hate because of misogyny and her trauma is completely overlooked because she so rarely shows how much hurt she's endured in her young life and is carrying the weight of the world and her entire family's expectations and "legacy" on her young shoulders. Emily and Richard never being able to let go Lorelai getting pregnant and leaving home and SHOWING THAT/SAYING IT around Rory made her feel responsible for all the issues between Lorelai and her parents, her grandparents pain and disappointment and to "fix" all her mother's "mistakes" - her burn out/break down in AYITL makes COMPLETE sense and her choice to allow herself to be "just like her mom" by keeping her baby and being a single mom is the start of her shedding those burdens she's carried her entire life and letting her just be herself even if that looks a lot like her mother who her grandparents and everyone in their world has been telling her for decades is a failure and a disappointment. Rory has always tried to please her grandparents and having to tell her grandmother she's going to be a single mom is basically the worse thing she could do in Emily's eyes (at least the old Emily who knows how post AYITL might react because she's stopped caring and therefore stopped trying to be so controlling but her revelation might not be enough to counter news like that that hits a wound that she literally never even tried to heal). Radical self acceptance despite what society aka her grandparents and their world thinks is what is meant for both Lorelai and Rory and choosing Luke/Jess over Christopher/Logan is apart of that acceptance.
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lurkingshan · 9 months
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La Pluie Meta Round-up
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Since many of us have decided to stop being normal about this show, I wanted to get a little more organized about tracking the great meta inspired by the episodes every week. Some of y’all are putting in work to write these amazing essays digging into the text and subtext of this show, and I want to make sure I’m not missing any of it, as well as have a central place to track my own. I thought this might also be a useful resource to others, especially anyone coming to the show late (please join us, this is the perfect moment to get into La Pluie). 
So without further ado, a round up of my favorite essays and posts to come out of the fandom on this excellent show. I will plan to update this each Saturday with the previous week’s meta as we go through the final four episodes. I tried my best to find everything but y'all know how faulty tumblr’s search and tag functions are, so if you think I missed something important, let me know!
First, the most crucial essay about La Pluie that everyone must read
We Must All Get Gayer and Louder About La Pluie Immediately (@bengiyo)
Second, a round up of some of the essays exploring the structure and intent of the story
Note: these may contain random spoilers for some episodes but are not specifically about any given episode
Four schools of thought on soulmates (@shortpplfedup)
Intentional subversion of the soulmate trope
Interrogating the romance genre (@chickenstrangers) 
La Pluie and the subversion of second lead syndrome
La Pluie and the subversion of the faen fatale
La Pluie: On the Lore 
Locations of La Pluie (@colourme-feral)
Name meanings in La Pluie (@recentadultburnout)
Narrative determinism versus genre determinism (@ginnymoonbeam)
On the subject of consent in recent bls (@williamrikers)
Romance tropes don’t work in real life (@heretherebedork) NEW
Romantic idealism in La Pluie (@ginnymoonbeam)
And finally, episode specific reactions and predictions
Note: These are spoilerific, starting at episode 4 aka when we all started really losing our minds over this show
Episode 4
Defying destiny (me and @bengiyo)
La Pluie Ep 4 And My Love Of Emotionally Available Characters (@bengiyo)
You (Yes, You!) Should be Watching La Pluie
Episode 5
La Pluie Ep 5 Stray Thoughts (aka birth of the Tai’s Dad is queer theory) (@bengiyo)
What we know about Patts (plus Shan and Ben’s vindication)
Working out the colors in La Pluie (@respectthepetty)
Episode 6
Hands in La Pluie Ep 6 (@wen-kexing-apologist)
La Pluie meets Nora Roberts (@syrena-del-mar)
On suspicion of Patts (@ginnymoonbeam)
Patts Was Going to Blow Tai. Tai Wanted It. Why That Matters. (@bengiyo)
You need to be watching La Pluie
Episode 7
Hands in La Pluie Ep 7 (@wen-kexing-apologist)
La Pluie: Maybe we will get a happy ending after all (@neuroticbookworm)
On the bed scene in Ep 7 (@ginnymoonbeam)
On the make out session in Ep 7 (@shouldiusemyname)
Episode 8
La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness (@bengiyo)
La Pluie: Do you still believe in soulmates?
La Pluie: The most important thing is that we really love each other
The Language of Love in La Pluie Ep 8 (@wen-kexing-apologist)
Third Child Syndrome: Birth Order Theory in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)
Episode 9
La Pluie and The Kind One (@sunshinechay)
Soulmate Skepticism vs Romanticism in La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm) 
the divine in me; the divine in you (@liyazaki)
The Kindness is the Point (@bengiyo)
The ultimate message of La Pluie
To love is a choice (@heretherebedork) 
What matters is CHOICE (@shortpplfedup)
Episode 10
A Jungian Perspective on La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)
A Logical Love Doesn’t Exist (@fadelikeclouds)
break your own chains (@liyazaki)
Diving into Tai’s mind: Actions do not speak louder than words (@fadelikeclouds)
La Pluie: A Masterclass in Conflict Writing in Romance
La Pluie Breaks the Soulmate Bond
La Pluie: Not All Gays Are Great (@bengiyo)
La Pluie the Soundtrack (@shouldiusemyname)
Lomfon thoughts (@rocketturtle4)
On Tai’s isolation (@sunshinechay)
On villainising Patts (@shortpplfedup)
Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act (@wen-kexing-apologist)
Revisiting episode 8
Similarities between Lomfon and Tai (@iguessitsjustme)
Tai and Patt’s incompatible conflict styles and Tais’ conflict avoidance (@ginnymoonbeam)
The Depths of Inner Turmoil (@syrena-del-mar)
The Soulmate Label (@indigostarfire)
Understanding the Core Four of La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm)
Episode 11
Balancing Self-Absorption and Love in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)
Checking in on the colors (@respectthepetty)
Connection (@wen-kexing-apologist)
Communication (@shouldiusemyname)
Even though they’ve separated it doesn’t mean they’ve failed (@chinzhilla)
It isn’t destiny- it’s freedom (@liyazaki)
La Pluie and the Aftermath
La Pluie: Thoughts on the Queer Subtext and More Patts Reflections (@bengiyo)
On Tai as a middle child of divorced parents (@slayerkitty)
On Tai’s special treatment within the family (@shortpplfedup)
Parenting in La Pluie, Episode 11 (@neuroticbookworm)
The narrative is letting Tai be unlikeable (@sunshinechay)
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Not being capable of saying "I'm sorry"
So that did the trick for me.
I wasn't shipping them until I realized that there was something in there. Between them, I mean. Something so strong that would survive Review and his infamous:
"No acid - Your dish needs acid - My behavior was not OK - Yes, chef. Last check is ready whenever - Family style? - Two tops - Booths?- Window on the side... Yeah-" And she not stepping into that kitchen until Carmy basically gave her his blessing. She didn't move when Rich said: "Syd, quit fucking around! Grab a can opener." That silent eye contact and his smile were soooo telling, before he started offering her his dream, before he shared with her his whole future.
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INSTEAD OF JUST SAYING/TEXTING: "I'M SORRY, I APOLOGIZE". Because admitting something was wrong and apologizing for it, are two different things. And committing to never doing it again, is yet ANOTHER completely different thing.
I have posted my theory about Storer being a converted Sydcarmyfan here before and I also heard that JAW and Ayo said that while they were shooting S1 any kind of a romantic plot didn't cross their minds at all. And I believe them.
What Storer and Calo did was create a character like Carmy who can't talk about his feelings and lives in constant denial of them, bottling them up to the point of complete shutdown, which is a trauma response. Hence, all his symptoms such as Panic attacks - Sleep disorders, etc. So that set the basis to do whatever they wanted with Carmy moving forward and what they did in the very last ep of S1 was to make him fall for Syd, which I also covered here. I actually think it started here, but on a totally subconscious level. He started his slow-burn journey in Braciole. He really began to get the idea when he slept with Claire and Syd crossed his mind in such an intimate moment, which is what I think the common blue cinematography implied.
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And by the time we got to Omellete, he was 100% aware of his feelings for Syd, after the panic attack.
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That took him to open up under the table, in the best way he could.
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Took him a whole season to use his words, he's just getting started. That table was just a warm-up.
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And let's not forget the costume jacket - again, no words-, which also hints that Syd has been on his mind for a long time, like I said, on different levels, but still...
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So now that he's getting "verbal" maybe he will learn to actually say he's sorry and apologizing with words and also actions, after getting out of the walk-in. That walk-in was also a space to reflect about his feelings for Syd that he had been putting in the freezer to deal with at a later time. But how much longer can he keep them in there before they start to rot?
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I wanna say, not more than 5 to 6 more eps. Tops.
I'm talking about coming clean about how he feels, using words like a grown-up and all. Not about a full-on Sydcarmy development.
What I'm saying is that there's a reason why Storer and Calo created this leading character like this, non-verbal, intense, and talented with his hands, and the whole show revolves around his arc.
Sydney is the plot twist, he is the plot.
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softspeirs · 1 month
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A/N: Rosie/OC… literally couldn’t resist. I was torn between this OC and a Red Cross OC from the flak house, but I think I wanted someone who would see him during all the hard parts, not just for a week when he’s Suffering. Spoilers for eps 5 and 6 of MoTA.
one - adjustment period.
Grace watches warily as the crew approaches on the jeep - she’s not sure what she expected… for them to be jubilant and laughing, looking refreshed and ready for action? Nervous, scared, resigned… some combination of the two?
Her eyes land on Rosie, as they’re prone to do. He seems calm. That’s not a surprise, but the glimpse of something — fear? hesitation? — in his eyes is.
Helen, standing on her left, shifts her weight, her posture the picture of worry and sadness.
“Try to pull yourself upright,” Grace says quietly.
"I'm trying--" Helen says, her voice dull. To her credit, she flashes a smile as the guys get closer, her frown softening.
"Ladies," Rosie says, fingers on the brim of his hat. "What's the welcome wagon for?"
"Coffee." Helen says, "Just brewed."
He smiles thankfully at her, but his eyes go back to Grace's. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Lieutenant Fleming--"
"Bearer of semi-bad news, I'm afraid." Grace says, ignoring the way her heart picks up a little at his half smile. She rushes to finish before she can see his face transform - he can't afford any more bad news. "Doc wants to see everyone, just a quick chat. After that there's food in the mess."
He nods. "What's one more doctor?" He mutters. She suspects she wasn't supposed to hear that. Then, louder, "You heard her, gents. Doctor's orders."
They grumble a little, but head into the infirmary behind Grace and Helen, taking a cup of coffee each as they go. Helen follows behind, empty tray tucked under her arm. She looks back at Grace, but Rosie is lingering behind, twisting the brim of his cap in his hands, and Grace can't bring herself to leave him out here alone.
She waves Helen on, telling her she'll catch up in a minute.
“Captain?”
He starts, like he forgot she was there. He also looks like he’s forgotten about his promotion. And that’s the thing with flying — a promotion isn’t always wanted. Deserved, certainly. But it often comes at the expense of other pilots, and it’s always a tough pill to swallow. “How’s it been? How’s— everyone?” He asks her. His face is so earnest. It makes her throat tight.
“As well as we can be, Captain. Most of the replacements are here.” She hesitates before continuing. She’s been here right along, with the Red Cross girls and the doctor and the other nurses. But just because she’s been here as long as everyone else doesn’t mean she understands what the flight crews have gone through. “How was your week off?”
“Too long.” He says, no hesitation. His smile is small, wry, a barely-there upturn of his lips. “I wanted to get back.”
“And you’re alright?” The question comes out almost without her permission. They don’t even know each other that well - she’s patched up a few of his scrapes and bruises and they’ve made idle conversation as he checked on some of his crew that ended up in the infirmary, but this is bordering on too casual.
But she’d argued with him, the day before he went on leave. She’d been too casual then, too, and so had he, both of them lost in the emotions of the Munster mission.
It feels a little awkward now, but she does her best to press on.
She can’t help but worry about him. She admires him, at the heart of it. The way he kept his men together through it all, the way he always has a kind word and a joke for anyone who needs it.
She just hopes he’d say so if he’s the one who needs it, this time.
“I’m as good as I can be, Lieutenant.” He replies.
“Grace.” She reminds him softly. “It’s— you don’t have to call me Lieutenant.”
“Grace, then.” He echos. “I’m okay. Have to be. For them.”
“I hope—“ she pauses, looking down at her shoes. “Forgive me sir, but I hope you know that we’re all here for you. What you went through—“
“I know.” He interrupts her, not unkindly. “You think we haven’t seen the way you’ve been there for us? Even when you thought we didn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “You write our letters when our hands shake, and get us extra blankets, and tell us it’s going to be okay when it’s—“ He stops himself, shaking his head.
When his eyes meet hers, they’re so soft she can barely stand it. This is dangerous, what this conversation is turning into, but she’s also relieved to hear that what she’s been doing besides being a nurse and keeping them alive has made a difference.
“I appreciate it more than I can put into words, Grace.” His voice is rough.
There’s a long moment of prolonged eye contact. Her senses are screaming, danger, danger! But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t look away.
“You just keep yourself and those boys alive, Captain.” She says, her voice thick. “For the rest of us.”
He salutes, a jaunty thing that lightens the mood. “Yes ma’am.”
She laughs, and he grins at her in response. “Go on, you have to meet with the Doctor too. Just standard procedure.”
He hums. “Heard a lot of that the last week.” He takes a few steps away and then stops, “Grace?” His face is suddenly boyish, shy. “You’d better call me Rosie. Or at least by my first name.”
It feels right — she’s given up calling anyone else by their rank anymore. They’ve been through too much for that. The new guys will be an adjustment - she’s not sure she can manage getting attached to any of them. Because it’s inevitable, what happens after.
But the line has already been crossed with this man, looking at her in the fading sunlight.
“You got it, Rosie.”
His answering smile stays with her until the next day, long after the roar of B-17s fades into the distance.
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bronx-bomber87 · 2 months
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Happy Saturday all :) We only have 5 eps left in this season. I can’t believe it. 17 days to the premiere. Well 18 for me since I don't have cable just Hulu but still. Ahhh the Dim and Juicy Ep. I remember the 3 week hiatus to get to it was the worst. Felt like we had a lot of extended breaks in S5. Drove me insane. But anything is better than the one we’re coming out of now ha I’ll take 3 weeks over 9 months any day heh.
I liked the parallel in this how unhealthy Jake/Sava were. And how solid Tim and Lucy are. I mean Dim And Juicy were a mess. My god the man cheated on her more than once. They are not relationship goals lol I enjoyed them nonetheless though. I know Eric and Melissa had a blast filming this. Did my best to get everything in. Content heavy one. Let us get started.
5x18 Double Trouble
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We hit the ground running in this one. Sava is waiting for Jake outside of prison. He’s getting released due to overcrowding. Not because he was good LOL Even Sava makes a crack it wasn't that. Been serving about 6 months for the drug charge got in 4x22. It’s a trip to watch them. We get all the benefits of Melissa and Eric’s chemistry inside another couple. It's wild. Sava all but squee's when she see's Jake which is pretty cute.
They launch themselves at each other once he’s free. All kisses and hands. Saying how much they missed each other. All the chemistry and swaying cuteness that comes with them. This scene is pretty cute to watch. They do look like they are so in love which makes what Jake does later so confusing and awful tbh. He greets her friend Lisa with a hug and you can see Sava breaks it up pretty quickly.
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Sava brings Jake back to her side. Asking what he wants to do first? Being the classy gentlemen he is saying she knows what. Ha Horny horn dogs. I do love it though. it’s like getting the most reckless AU version of Tim and Lucy. Although they wouldn’t cheat so it’s not entirely accurate lol Sava asking him if he wants to go straight? Jake replying 'Nah, screw that. Let's be bad.'
This leads us into the documentary. Shots of Jake and Sava during it. My god they are sex crazed af. I think that’s why everyone loved watching them though. heh They legit were gonna make a sex tape and got caught LOL I remember being so excited and confused as to what this episode was going to be ha. All I knew was going to be a documentary one and I always have a soft spot for these ones.
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We start off with Lucy getting mic’d up. She looks way more nervous this time around. Why you ask? Her person isn’t with her. Her safe space and grounding force is missing. She even asks why she can’t be interviewed with him? They want their POV's to be separate this time. It’s so sweet she misses him and needs his presence to calm her nerves. This makes me so happy I cannot.
We watch her take a deep breathe knowing they have to be apart. They ask how Lucy knew of Jake Butler in the first place? Lucy goes on to explain about Tamara’s car and drugs they found in it. Which led them to Jake. They bring up the fact he and Tim look alike. Tim is already grumpy and hates these damn things. What happens when you remove him away from his sunshine human.
He’s extra grumpy. It shows in his very first shot. His body language screaming how much he doesn’t want to be here. The crossed arms (mmm hello biceps.) Tim defiantly saying how they don’t look the same at all. Refusing to believe they are anything alike. Other than looks Jake is the complete opposite of everything Tim is for sure. He’s so sassy and salty when the director says they’re identical. ‘Says you.’ Oh my love. I adore you.
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They come at Lucy with both barrels about being Dim and Juicy for their OP in 'Double Down.' Knowing their ‘pretend’ intimacy was so much more than that. Lucy looks like she’s getting overwhelmed poor thing. She tries to divert it back to what they accomplished with their OP. Not the fact that they were UC together as a couple. The director presses more asking if that’s when her and Tim became intimate?
There’s a reason they pulled Tim from her for these questions. He would’ve knocked this guy out for them being so personal. Also for making her feel uncomfortable asking them. She can’t even look the man in the face when she says this BS line about pretending. Cause it’s utter crap and she knows it. Yeah they were in other relationships at the time. To quote Angela from 5x01 ‘All true. Not what I asked.’
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Lucy defending them both. Saying they didn’t get together until they were both single. Which is true and I am eternally grateful for. Do love her making sure everyone knows this. That they didn’t do anything untoward during their OP. Cause they wouldn’t while in relationships. Not who they are. They were damn close but didn't. Why they are the opposite of Jake/Sava. The director says he wants to dial in on that. Lucy becoming agitated asking do we really have to?
These questions clearly getting under her skin. The director noting it’s astronomical they would even meet the both of them. Let alone have both Jake/Sava together and her and Tim as well in a relationship. Before she can answer Tim interrupts says interview is over. She asks what's wrong? He tells her not here.. Lucy thinking it’s linked to questions she’s being asked. I love him holding the door for her as they leave. Ever the gentlemen.
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The closeness and height difference is glorious in this shot. You can tell when they’re alone by her body language Lucy goes into calm down Tim mode. Her hand reaching out for his and subtly touching it. Thinking she has to get him to settle down for hearing those questions. Before Lucy can talk Tim explains why he removed her. Has nothing to do with that. He pulled her over because Jake has gone missing. Doesn’t want to do police work in front of the cameras. Saying Nolan and Celia got missing persons call and it’s about Jake. Lucy is shocked saying 'What?'
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Nolan and Celina show up and Sava is freaking out cause Jake is missing. The director asks why Jake and Sava are at a mansion in Beverley Hills? We find out they’ve been casing rich families. Taking over jobs like handy man, nanny etc so they can live in these fancy houses and steal their stuff. It’s pretty smart despite being awful LOL This last family needed a handy man. Jake beats the crap out of the current one. Strong arms his way into taking his job.
I do love seeing how tall he is in that camera shot. mmm. Tall drink of water that man. Jeans and a leather jacket? Yum. Gimme. Luckily this family needed a nanny as well. So they both fit right into this scenario. Angela saying Sava slid right in LMAO I’m dying at Wes’s reaction. They’re so cute I can’t stand it. I do love me some Wopez. He tells her that's a really descriptive way to say it HA These documentaries always produce the funniest little moments like this. Why I love these and have a soft spot for them.
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We return to Nolan’s and Celina questioning Sava. She is still panicking. Saying this is why she didn't want to call the cops. Nolan noting because they're doing something illegal? She tries to defend their jobs there. That they're "straight" now. John gets her back on track by saying Jake disappeared? We cut to another video slash moment. Sava and her videos ha it is super cute how he looks at the camera. That smile we all love. Jake saying she needs to remind him to erase security footage. My god they’re sex bunnies LMFAO. He gets up to grab another beer and asks if she wants anything? She said lobster salad.
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The ass tap he gives her on his way to get another beer. my goodness. I love it. Reeling over here. Don't worry about me. They must’ve had so much fun filming this. I mean Eric mentioned it was one of fav eps of the season. The BTS they did leading up to his showed how much they enjoyed it. Her little dance after he says he’ll get her lobster salad. Haha Sava just living her best life in this moment and it’s showing. Sadly this is the last time Jake is seen alive on camera.
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We find out Jake took off and never told Sava where he was going. Which is heartbreaking. Because she clearly loved this man very much. Moral compass or not she loved Jake. That gets them on the topic of lying and secrets in a relationship. They ask her if Tim and her keep secrets? Lucy says nothing big.
That honesty is the most important thing in a relationship. Cutting to Tim and his reply I’m rolling. Eric killing it in this episode with his sarcasm. The king delivers once again. I mean he’s not wrong he is sitting there because of her secret. Well intentioned secret though LOL One born out of love. This one was funnier than the other two I thought. Just lots of funny/punchy bits like this one. I enjoyed it so much.
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We return to station. Aaron’s calling in he found a body. That it’s Tim. The expressions in this scene are primo. First off Lucy and Celina's confusion is hysterical. Standing next to him and hearing this when he's very much not. Tim looks so annoyed Aaron couldn’t tell it wasn’t him LOL Also irritated at the thought of being dead. Like he's insulted he would ever be dead in a dumpster haha Oh Tim I love you so much.Like Aaron you’re all looking for Jake and your mind goes to Tim LMAO Never gonna live this down my dude....
Tim grabbing Lucy’s radio off her hip is doing things to me. I also adore the looks when he does. She just allows it only looking down. Such a deep level of comfortability in this action too. Lucy doesn’t react at all. Just used to Tim and his antics. It’s the little glances through out this portion love too. Tim's look into the camera cracking up as well. Like this friggin dope thinking i'm dead... His face the literal version of SMH ha I loved this mini moment so much.
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They ask Tim if it was disconcerting he saw a version of himself dead in the dumpster? Being Tim he’s not going to show a documentary crew of all people his vulnerability. That’s reserved for one person and one person only. We shoot back to Lucy who says she has nightmares. God I can only imagine the nightmares seeing that produced for her though. Even though it wasn’t him you know she carried that with her when they left.
I bet you she had nightmares that night and Tim had to soothe her. Damn that would be good fic... LOL Anyways they ask Lucy if she thinks Tim has nightmares? Lucy tells them no but he’s been doing the job longer. I love her defending his high walls though. Saying why they’re in place. Not wanting them to judge him for it. Refusing to let anyone cast a negative light on him.
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The director asks if she’s jealous he can turn it off like that? Lucy’s answer is great because it’s very her. Telling them No. Personally she needs to feel for people it’s who she is. I totally get that I am a massive empath. It’s how I connect with people as well. It has it's downsides it’s true but worth it in the end. When they ask her bout his walls being an issue? I LOVE her smile. Because those walls have never really been an issue. A challenge for Lucy yes in slowly breaking his down over the years. But never an obstacle for them.
We all know she saw behind his walls very early on in their relationship. Saw the man hiding behind that wall. Tim has been a soft marshmallow for her for YEARS. Legit years. Why she has zero hesitation in her reply. He was soft for her long before they got together. It’s just now he allows himself to fully be this way openly and he’s ok with it. Well when they’re alone he is. Of course he’s going to be rough and grumpy with the crew. They’re not his person. Nor would he ever tell them he was soft for her.
That's not Tim Bradford at all. But his actions speak louder than his words ever could. You have to earn that out of him though. Lucy earned it million times over. Why she is the only one who gets to see it. Does crack me up the way the director says. ‘No sir....’ After Tim asks him if he looks like a big softy? You know Tim loved instilling that fear in him. He may be super gone for his wife. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t command fear and respect around everyone else. These two the epitome of Grumpy x Sunshine per usual. Tim is hard ass unless you’ve made past his wall. He loves Lucy most so she gets all the soft goodies haha
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Sava shows the director a video she’s scared to share with the team after being questioned. Thinking they’re gonna use it against her. It’s a video of them driving around being all cute. Saying I love you to the camera and such. But then get run off the road in an attempt to kill them. Their car gets totaled and Jake has them bail completely. Car and everything they leave behind. They were able to locate the car for evidence after they see this.
They couldn’t get anything from the car scrapings unfortunately. Had the most common paint out there. So another layer was added to this mystery. Who was the driver? Sava then gets a text threatening her about an item she had no idea about. One that needed to be delivered. It was sent to her and Jake. The texts went on to be violent in nature toward Sava. So it was time for Lucy to go UC to figure this out. Meet up with this person threatening her.
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Thanks to Lucy’s UC Op the SL finally has some answers. The guy contacting them was related to Jake they were cousins. He was into some shady stuff and was an international arms dealer. This where I really feel bad for Sava. She had no idea about these back ally dealings he was doing. Not only that but he was cutting her out of the deal on top of it. That Jake targeted this family for a specific reason and she had no idea. Makes me sad when she says she thought he loved her oof.
That she knew him. Pretty sad. We find out later through Sava. That Jake always had a burner phone. They were able to get that number through this whole thing with the shady cousin. It’s where we find out Jake was cheating on Sava. Again….Lucy calling him the Shakespeare of sexting LOL They ask her if she’ll read some of them? It’s adorable how flustered she gets. Saying she can’t her Nana would be watching this. HA
The director does the dumbest thing he could do. Asking Tim if he would read some? Like did you really think that was gonna happen bud? Like really? His reply of if Lucy wasn’t gonna he sure as hell wasn’t going to. Telling him to take that away from him. Have you not paid attention at all in these documentaries? Why would they think asking was a good idea? LMFAO Mess with the bull gonna get the horns people.
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We find out the person Jake was cheating on Sava with was Lisa. Her best friend…Like damn it’s bad enough to cheat but with her best friend? God…As douchey as it gets on his part. Jake breaks up with her via text but Lisa can’t handle the fact he was choosing Sava. It’s when everything comes together. We find out she tried to run them off the road and kill them. When that failed she asks for Jake’s forgiveness. Wanting to meet up. When he showed up she killed him immediately and dumped his body. Shit….That's a seriously scorned women right there.
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This next portion is the definition Grumpy x Sunshine. They ultimately decide not to charge Sava with anything. The director asking what Lucy thinks of this? She of course gives the softest, most empathetic, and hopeful answer. Because it’s Lucy Chen. She exudes all that in her decision making. It is her super power after all. Naturally her answer was geared towards a second chance. Thinking maybe this will put Sava on the right path.
We cut to Tim saying ‘Of course she said that.’ He knows his girl so well. What’s so great here is his expression as he says it. That smile of his when he says that line. We all know one of the reasons he fell for her is that sunshine. That empathy and her seeing the best in people. She charmed her way into his heart with it. He truly does admire her for it. You can see the fond affection his face and tone when he says this.
He may not agree with her but he loves that about her. The man loves her so much even when he’s being sassy it comes off as affectionate. It's the first time we see him smile this episode. Why? He’s talking about Lucy. She brings it out in him. She melts him even without even being present. Just the thought of her and he lights up. Her compassion is one of his fav things about her. Gah they cute.
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They finally get to to be interviewed together. It’s the best part of the episode. Director not wasting any time with his first question. Asking them if they’re worried cause their doppelgänger relationship was so dysfunctional? Lucy once again seeing the best in them. Telling him it was an unfair characterization of them. That Jake cheated not only that but cut her out of a gun deal after that. Not healthy in the least but to her not dysfunctional.
I adore how riled up Tim is with his questions. Protective Tim has entered this conversation. Getting very agitated with what he’s implying. Look at how Lucy looks at Tim as he goes off on his rant. She loves this man sitting next to her. Grumpy rants and all. The amount of affection on her face as he continues his tangent. She could watch him go off all day. My heart. The director saying he thinks it's reasonable question. Tim doesn't agree and tells him off. Saying they’re working too hard. Ha I love him.
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Tim continues on (very passionately might I add) about separating their relationship from Jake/Sava’s. Want's to make it VERY clear they are nothing like those two. That the only thing they share is looks. He is so offended he would even compare the two. I mean it’s true. They’re not on the same planet as Tim and Lucy. Lucy continues to look at her man with serious heart eyes. Her smile giving me all the feels.
She is loving his fierce defense of them as a couple. Saying Jake/Sava based their lives on deceit. Of course it infected their relationship. He’s not wrong…This next bit gets me all in my feels. The way he looks over at Lucy. A real genuine smile just for her. Look at his smile. I'm a puddle. He is the absolute softest for her. *heart clutch*
Saying they’re in a very different place. His passionate defense is of them is sexy if you ask me. Also look how different he is with her by his side. Sharing more than he's been doing in his previous interviews. Being a little vulnerable cause she’s there with him. More than he has the entire episode. I cannot. This makes my heart so happy.
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The look on Lucy’s face when they ask what place they’re in? She is also ready to throw down with them. Incensed they would even ask that. Her reply is perfection. Saying ‘If you don’t know, then you haven’t been paying attention.’ I remember thinking this was a shot at anyone complaining this season. (and I LOVED it) Which blew my mind btw whenever I saw it. Cause if you could be negative in a season this good what makes you happy? I remember unfollowing some people cause I didn't want their tainted vision in my feed. If you could look at their relationship and not see the beautiful progression you weren't watching the same season as me.
To not see what they’ve built to this point in the season. You are like Lucy said clearly not paying attention. I remember seeing some posts about not enough PDA, kisses or intimacy. (there was lots of intimacy btw just not straight up making out) You’re missing the point of the realistic healthy adult relationship that's being portrayed. They're not teenagers who will be angsty over nothing. These are people in a stage of their life where that nonsense isn't going to happen. Any angst they've had has been productive. If you came out of this episode thinking they needed to be more like Jake/Sava you missed the point entirely. Of this season really. They are not them.
The beauty of Lucy and Tim is in the small tender moments. The little things that add up to so much. Yes I love kisses and such don't get me wrong. God I love them. Will lose my mind over any in S6 no doubt. But there is so much more to a relationship than just that. The emotional intimacy and how they’ve grown together since 5x10 is unreal. The massive shift in Tim alone is enough to tell you how well written they are. What a healthy adult relationship looks like. Had their bumps along the way but what couples doesn’t? I just loved that line from Lucy. S5 is a game changer in the best way for them. If you can’t see it or how they've both grown together you clearly haven’t been paying attention. That line was amazing and I loved her saying as such.
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The director takes shot at what place they're in. Coming up with some buzz words. As generic as he could possibly be. Lucy calls him out for it. Because it no where near describes what these two have. Tim is simmering as this guy continues to try and rile them up. I adore him ready to go off and Lucy immediately calms him with a single touch. That’s all takes for him to go from raging bull to heart eye Tim in an instant for her.
Tim was ready to thrown the hell down. I love protective Tim. Lucy taking the wheel in this moment is everything. Her touch basically saying she's got this. Looking directly at her man when she says this next line above. Also don’t think I didn’t see your eyes move to his lips madam. I do adore how she is looking at him. Exuding every ounce of love in her body for him as she speaks. They’re so in love make my heart hurt in the best way. Her eyes so full of warmth and affection for the man sitting next to her. They really are in a beautiful place. Making my shipper heart so very happy.
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Tim’s sweet smiles as she rubs her thumb up and down his wrist in a soothing manner. I love it so very much. Never be over how she make's sure to keep eye contact as she calms him down. Tim also doesn't break his eye contact with her as she does this. They're killing me with all the shipper feels in this moment.
Let’s not forget her necklace on full display here. In this beautiful moment. Happy looks so damn good on them everyone. Another thing I love so much is how Tim lets her take over. He was ready to shut this down. Kick them out. She places her hand on his arm and he’s at peace. Lets her direct them from here on out. Only Lucy has the power to soothe him this quickly and effectively.
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She’s calmed Tim down enough to have him rejoin the convo. Saying as police officer your future is never certain. Lucy adding on anything can happen at any time. Tim rolling it into kicking them out is amazing. Telling them straight up they’ve overstayed their welcome at this point. I mean they really have LOL Cracks me up how she turns her head towards him. Not really shocked but realizing he's over this now. Her smile is the best.
I love him pointing his finger. The shots at his relationship with Lucy were his breaking point. That is the most precious thing in world to him. Something so sacred. Why Lucy had to stop him from eating them lol Lucy’s reaction is the best. She loves this insane man sitting next to her so much. Her pushing his arm down like 'Ok babe that’s enough.' lmao. Such a wifey move to do that but also she knows Tim is at his limit. Tells them it's time to go now....
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I love them instantly going into couple time mode once it's over. Lucy asking if he wants sushi? Tim saying how it’s perfect. Then looks back at them glaringly. Saying this place better be spotless when they get back. I love her escorting him out of the apt. Hand on his back directing him towards the front door before he pops off more. Such a married move. God damn I love them so much everyone. Fantastic ep from start to finish. ❤️
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Side notes-non chenford
Grey’s picture and how happy it makes him I love it so much. It’s so cute I can’t stand it.
He was so distraught when it was destroyed lol They replace it and it’s so sweet hilarious adorable thing for Grey.
Thank you to all my readers you make my entire day when you like, comment and reblog. Tis been a joy for me. See you all in 5x19 :)
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guy-in-a-dress · 1 year
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Rating the main M*A*S*H crew on their hugging abilities
1. Hawkeye
The hugger of all time
Probably picks you up n hops around with you while yelling about whatever the fuck he's being insane about at the moment
The skinny arms lowkey dig into your everywhere but it's worth it
9/10
2. Trapper
Beefy teddy bear
IDC if he said he's out of shape in that one ep I can see that beef. Muscly ppl are some of the best huggers
WILL spin you. He probably sends the kids that hang around around the camp into orbit when he's in a good mood
10/10
3. BJ
Father figures give the best hugs
Also something about that mustache make him feel significantly huggier idk why
He'd probably jump around like Hawkeye or at the very least shake you like a rag doll
You know you've had a good hug if you feel mildly concussed afterwards
10/10
4. Henry
What did I say about father figures
His office is open for hugs as long as he's not on the phone with his wife
He'd be real confused going into it tho
"Arms over the shoulder- oh no around the waist okay"
Also whatever is in those vest pockets would poke you
8/10
5. Potter
Grandpa. Need I say more
Not to mention he's a horse girl(gender neutral), who are known for being excellent at hugs
Unfortunately he smells like an antique barn but that comes with the job of being your friendly neighborhood horse grandpa
9/10
6. Frank
Unpopular opinion time but I genuinely think he's capable of being a great hugger
Like he needs SOME type of positive trait to balance out his cartoonishly evil persona so I think this is a bone I'm willing to throw
He'd probably be that relative that you let hug you bc you feel kind of bad for him
Then he ruins the moment by saying the most horrifying shit imaginable
That and he always seems to be in a cold sweat no matter the weather
7/10
7. Margaret
A good hugger when it counts
Isn't one for hugging or physical touch beyond sex
However
She will not hesitate to hug a patient or child if she's asked or if she feels it's necessary
If she's in a good mood she'll hug a nurse who's having a hard time
7/10
8. Charles
The repressed of all time
Will not give hugs unless he's mega drunk
Probably wasn't hugged enough as a child
If someone else initiates he'll probably complain but eventually reciprocate like the antagonist-turned-bitchy-roommate he is
Definitely get "disgusting. Do it again" vibes from him esp in later seasons
5/10
9. Radar
Nope
Look I'm definitely a "southerners and midwesterners give the best hugs" truther but this boy is a limp noodle
You'd get an arm around the shoulder if you're lucky
He's probably bad at handshakes too
Won't initiate unless he's on the verge of tears or losing his mind with hype
4/10
10. Father Mulcahy
Since he's a priest I'm choosing to count him as a father figure and by this point you know what I think about dad hugs
He's 100% DTH(down to hug) and won't bring it up again afterwards (he counts hugs as silent confessions)
He'd probably do the 'rocking back n forth' thing too if he thinks it's necessary
11/10
11. Klinger
Fuck yeag
Is a lot like Mulcahy in that he will hug anyone he thinks needs it
Also probably has several handkerchiefs on his person just in case you need to cry
If he's upset he'll probably squeeze you like a stress ball without realizing but that shit's therapeutic
10/10
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hooked-on-elvis · 3 months
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[FAN STORY] "Those five or six minutes that will stay in my heart forever" — Excerpt: "ELVIS: Live at the International" by Kieran Davis (2011)
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February 18, 1970: Elvis backstage with fan, Judy Cherry. Judy is an England "super fan" of Elvis, who met him in 1970, at the International Hotel in Las Vegas, NV.
Here's Judy's recollections of that moment:
"... The first thing I said when he came out was just a whispered 'Elvis!' He put his arms around me and gave me a nice warm hug. I told him I had waited fourteen years for this and he said 'Have you? That's a long time to wait, isn't it honey?' Then gave Jamie (the girl with me) a nice hug and said, 'Did you come all the way from England?' She said, 'Yes' He said, 'Thank you, hon.'
I said, 'Elvis, do you have time for a couple of pictures?' His answer was a warm, 'Sure.' So while Jamie was getting my camera out, I showed him a copy of the Elvis Presley story, that I had brought with me, and told him I had had it since 1957. He seemed genuinely amazed. He came across this one real old picture and said, 'This really is old, man. I was 21 years old here!'
Note: Possibly, Judy is refereeing to a magazine called "ELVIS PRESLEY: THE INTIMATE STORY MAGAZINE" (Published in 1957)
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IMPORTANT UPDATE -- March 2024: I won't erase what I published orignally because there are friends who reblogged it already and I feel this can look confusing, but one minor correction is needed. This magazine above is definitely NOT the one Judy Cherry was holding for Elvis to sign. @whositmcwhatsit posted the actual book on her blog which is "The Elvis Presley Story edited by James Gregory, introduction by Dick Clark". I apologize for the wrong assumption I made, friends. I had never saw the actual book cover (until now), thus when researching the name "the Elvis Presley story", as Judy mentioned in her recollection, it only got me to think the magazine I shared on my original post [the one above] could be a the one she was referring to. My bad. Well, it's corrected thanks to our wonderful Jade. ♥ I hope you don't mind, dear, if I use the picture of your copy to illustrate this post.
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Photo by the copy our friend Jade [@whositmcwhatsit] bought. Lucky girl! Precious!🥹🩷
[Continuing the story...]
"In between these dribbles of conversation we had taken one picture (shown at the beginning of this post), had some trouble with the flashcube and now we're taking another picture... then he turned to Jamie and said, 'Now we are gonna get one with you, aren't we honey?' I got the picture, he said goodbye to Jamie and came over and gave me a hug. I said, 'Goodbye, Elvis, I'll see you tomorrow night... whether you see me or not: cause I'll be going to the show every night for the rest of the time.' He seemed really surprised at this and said 'Eleven times! Thank you so much, sweetheart. I just wish I could meet everyone of you!'
"He kissed me goodbye and he was gone but the 5 or 6 minutes will stay in my heart forever."
One of the things I love the most about EP (and what turned me into a passionate fan of his) is how loving he was with his fans, he really listened to them. He treated them like people, not numbers or simply "admirers". He cared about giving them the time of their lives once they were there to watch him performing or even if they were just around to ask for his autograph or pictures. Elvis was truly genuine when interacting with them — actually this word "genuine" is used by many of the fortunate fans who got to meet and talk to him, to describe EP's interactions with them.
He cared so much about his fans that it's said he could remember the frequent ones by their names, all of them, the die hard fans, and even asked about some of them to his other fans whenever they were uncommonly not around for a few days (specifically talking about the fans that hanged around at his homes gates now).
EP was a great guy. He deserved all the success he conquered. The best performer ever! It's always said the good ones are always taken from us too soon. Well, that seems to be the truth, tragically. How we wish we could see and talk to him today, having such great memories like Judy's, while EP would be at his 88 year-young of a well-lived life. Imagine the conversations with this guy! The stories he could share with us. Anyway, we'll forever cherish you, EP.⚡♥
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