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bloody-bee-tea · 7 months

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BeeTober 2023 Day 13 - Blooper

“And cut! That’s a wrap on that,” Director Yaga calls out and Suguru lets out a sigh. “Actually, that’s a wrap on everything,” Director Yaga continues and gives Suguru a thumbs up.

Right. This was the last scene they had to record for the movie, Suguru remembers now. They are done and Satoru isn’t even here. Suguru shakes his head at that because where did that thought even come from–he knows, oh how he knows–and smiles at Director Yaga.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Suguru politely says but Yaga waves him off.

“No, thank you. That was excellent work. I hope to work together with you in the future.” There’s a notable pause. “And Gojo, I guess,” he then adds with a sigh and Suguru has to suppress a smile.

Satoru is not the easiest to work with mainly because he has too much energy for his own good, but he’s damn good at what he does.

“That reminds me,” Director Yaga mutters and turns around to look for something.

“Everything okay?” Suguru asks, tilting his head in question and he’s definitely looking forward to getting out of costume, because now that he’s no longer in character he definitely misses his bangs. Something is just missing without them.

“Yeah, yeah, I just have something for you,” Director Yaga says and when he turns back around there is a DVD in his hands. “Some scenes that didn’t make the cut. Thought you’d want to have it.”

Suguru doesn’t quite see how that relates to Satoru but he takes the DVD nonetheless.

“Thank you,” he gives back and wonders if Satoru gets his own version or if he’ll have to invite him over one of these days to watch them together.

He’ll find out, he guesses, his phone already blowing up with stupid memes from Satoru. He can just ask him later. They will all stay on the site for a few more days, just in case some footage got compromised or they need to reshoot something for other reasons so it’s not as if he can’t just invite Satoru over later, anyway.

But for now Suguru is looking forward to a quiet evening, where he can finally relax for once and maybe look through the scrapped scenes Director Yaga gave him.

He barely made it to his home when Shoko barges in, absolutely ignorant of Suguru’s wish for a quiet evening.

“Ah, good, he gave it to you,” she says when she sees the DVD on the table and Suguru narrows his eyes at her.

“This is awfully suspicious,” he slowly says because he knows Shoko better than to think that she would care about some scrapped scenes. “What is this about?”

“Look for yourself,” she calls over her shoulder as she makes her way over to the kitchen, grabbing a drink for herself.

“You’re scaring me,” Suguru mutters because everything that puts Shoko into a slightly good mood is bound to sour his own–she thrives on his pain after all.

Her only response to that is a grin, which only makes Suguru more nervous.

“Are you not going to watch it?” she asks, amusement still so very clear on her face and Suguru wants to burn the DVD right about now, if he’s being honest.

“I’m not sure anymore,” he honestly gives back because this can only spell trouble. But then again–Director Yaga gave this to him, so how much damage can this do, really?

“Aw, come on, I was looking forward to it,” Shoko says and Suguru gets the distinct impression that it’s not the DVD she’s looking forward to but more so his reaction to it.

Cold sweat breaks out on his forehead.

“This is going to be humiliating, right?” he mutters even as he puts the DVD in.

It starts with a black screen before a date is displayed on the screen and Suguru remembers that this was one of the very first days he and Satoru both were on set. He doesn’t think they had any scenes together that day, but he’s sure this mystery will be cleared up soon. And he’s proven right when he and Satoru show up on screen, though it’s not a scene from the movie. They are standing next to the snack table just goofing off and before Suguru can even process that the scene moves on.

“Are these bloopers?” he asks Shoko who sat down next to him by now.

“You could say that,” she cryptically gives back and Suguru fights the urge to turn the screen off.

His instinct is proven right when the next half hour is filled with nothing but him and Satoru talking to each other, laughing with each other and just goofing around in their down time.

“Fuck,” Suguru breathes out and flops down on the couch. “Fuck,” he says again, this time with more vehemence because he cannot believe how obvious he is with his crush. “Does everyone know?”

“That you two are fucking? Yes,” Shoko gives back with a shrug and Suguru shoots up from his position.

“We are not fucking!”

“Huh,” Shoko disinterestedly says. “Could have fooled me.”

“No, Shoko, listen. We are not fucking. Gods, I wish we were but I know he doesn’t want that.”

“Oh dear,” Shoko says and now she sounds much more serious. “What do you mean he doesn’t want that? Did you watch the same scenes as I?”

“I did, that’s the problem,” Suguru groans out. “I didn’t know I’m so goddamn obvious about it, fuck. Do you think he knows?”

“If he did, you’d be boning by now,” Shoko mercilessly gives back and Suguru reaches out to smack her head but of course she moves out of the way before he can make contact.

“Don’t say that. It’s not like that.” Shoko levels him with a look. “For him,” Suguru amends, because it’s clearly more than obvious by now that he’s a lost cause when it comes to Satoru.

Shoko’s look doesn’t let up at all.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she immediately replies and then whips her phone out. “Nothing at all.”

Her tone is happy enough that it immediately puts Suguru on edge.

“What are you doing?” he asks as she types away.

“Nothing,” she repeats and Suguru just knows that it’s going to be bad.

“Please tell me what you’re doing,” he groans out, covering his face with his hands.

“I am doing nothing at all.”

It gets less believable the more often she says it and Suguru realises with despair that there is nothing for him to do but to accept whatever horrible machinations she has put into place.

“Will you kill me before whatever you just did comes to pass?” he asks her, his face still covered in the childish hope that if he can’t see, maybe whatever is going to happen can’t find him.

“Nope. Just so you know, Yaga gave the same DVD to Gojo.” There’s a knock on the door just as Suguru flies up in a panic. “And that’s my que to leave.”

She gets up and deftly moves out of reach of Suguru’s hands who twitch with the urge to strangle her. When she opens the door Suguru’s stomach drops when he spots a way too familiar white mop of hair.

“Hey, Shoko!” Satoru greets her but she moves past him without a look.

“I’m going to meet Utahime, do not contact me for any reason.”

“But–you invited me here?” Satoru’s voice trails off before he turns around to Suguru. “What’s up with her?” he then asks and Suguru returns to his position on the couch.

Surely Satoru will just leave now that Shoko is gone, right?

“No fucking clue,” Suguru lies like the liar he is and his stomach flips when Satoru leans over the back of the couch.

“And what’s up with you?” he wants to know, his eyes sparkling in that way Suguru loves and his fingers twitch with the urge to cover his face again.

Or maybe reach out to Satoru.

“Nothing,” Suguru gives back, channelling his inner Shoko, though he just knows that his voice is not at all believable.

“Mh, sure,” Satoru says and then he freezes when he spots something on the table.

Suguru knows exactly what it is because the only thing currently on the table that is of any relevance is the damned DVD case. Suguru watches how Satoru’s face goes through a quite interesting journey of expressions before it settles on closed off and it immediately puts a frown on Suguru’s face. Satoru is never closed off when he’s with him. Suguru doesn’t like it.

“I see,” Satoru whispers and stands up straight again. “I’ll get out of your hair then.”

He starts to turn away from Suguru and that finally spurs him into action. He shoots up and his hand just barely manages to snatch Satoru’s in his.

“Satoru,” he gets out and it’s at least enough to stop him.

“What?” Satoru asks when Suguru stays silent, nerves stealing his voice away.

“Don’t go,” he eventually says, and even though Satoru still has his back to him, he doesn’t move away and more importantly, he doesn’t take his hand back.

Maybe he even curls his fingers around Suguru’s but that could also just be his imagination.

“And why shouldn’t I?” Satoru asks, his shoulders rising up to his ears and Suguru realises he’s nervous. Maybe just as nervous as Suguru is, but then Shoko’s words ring in his ears again.

She thought they’d been fucking all this time. She said it’s kind of very obvious and she wasn’t just talking about Suguru. So maybe, just maybe–

“Because I don’t want you to,” Suguru says and adjusts his grip on Satoru’s hand so that it’s more like hand-holding instead of simply stopping him from leaving. His heart beats dangerously in his chest when Satoru goes along with it.

“But you’ve seen it,” Satoru whispers out and Suguru wonders where the loud, boisterous, way too full of himself Satoru went.

It seems that even he is not exempt from being nervous every now and then.

“I have,” he agrees. “And according to Shoko this is Directo Yaga’s way of letting us know that everyone knows we’re fucking.”

Satoru flinches.

“But you don’t–” he trails off when Suguru squeezes his hand.

“And I thought you don’t,” he softly gives back and that is finally enough to get Satoru to turn back around to him.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?” he demands to know and Suguru tries his best to keep a straight face.

“Well, why the hell wouldn’t I?” he shoots back and properly threads their fingers together, growing more confident by the second that it will be welcome.

A smile starts to creep up on Satoru’s face before it turns into one of horror and Suguru’s heart misses a beat.

“Do you mean to tell me that we could have been fucking all this time!” Satoru yells out and it startles a laugh out of Suguru.

Trust him to focus on that, he fondly thinks and then pulls on Satoru’s hand until he gets with the program and climbs over the back of the couch to lay on Suguru. He’s lighter than Suguru expected him to be with all the sweets he usually stuffs into himself and Suguru doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him.

“Could have been doing this all this time, too,” he whispers into Satoru’s soft hair and Satoru goes boneless on top of him with a sigh.

“True,” he mutters and then digs his bony chin into Suguru’s sternum to look at him.

Suguru wonders if his heart will ever get used to having that gaze directed at him. He hopes not.

“So, feelings,” Satoru says and Suguru groans.

“Do we have to?” he wants to know because it’s not as if Satoru is very forthcoming with his feelings on a normal basis. He’d rather hide all of them behind fake cheer instead of opening up to anyone else.

“We wasted weeks, so I think yes,” Satoru gives back and Suguru wonders if he’s ever seen him look this soft before.

“Fine, feelings then. I have some. For you,” Suguru cheekily says and in retaliation Satoru digs his chin more firmly in. “Ouch, Satoru, what the hell.”

“Be serious,” Satoru whines out and Suguru can feel himself soften at that.

“I am,” he promises and moves his hand so he can scratch Satoru’s scalp. “I have feelings for you. I’m in love with you,” he admits and with Satoru’s gaze on him like that it’s almost not hard at all.

“Like you should be,” Satoru says, but he can’t fool Suguru. He felt how his breath stuttered in his chest at the admission.

“So I take it’s one sided then?” Suguru asks though he knows the answer.

It might be nice to hear it, though.

“Not quite,” Satoru admits and moves his head, putting his ear right over Suguru’s heart. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He must have heard how Suguru’s heart stumbled at that but he doesn’t comment on it. Suguru keeps the scratching motion up and he hopes he’ll get to hold Satoru like this for the rest of their lives.

“Want to watch our best of again?” Satoru asks after a while and Suguru snorts out a laugh.

“Our best of?”

“It’s like a documentation of us falling in love, isn’t it?” he wonders and it takes Suguru’s breath away to think of it like that. He should probably thank Director Yaga and the team for this, later.

“Kinda, yeah,” he agrees and fishes for the control to press play.

Now with Satoru in his arms like that it’s actually quite a fun watch and Suguru finds himself wondering if they’ll play this at their wedding.

But that is a thought for much later, he decides and presses a kiss to Satoru’s forehead before he concentrates back on the screen to see it all unfold.

#bt writes #jjk #beetober23 #stsg #geto suguru #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #no powers #actor au #pining #fluff #getting together

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allandoflimbo · 4 months

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My second announcement is kind of longer, but here goes.

There’s been a couple of factors that’s kept me from continuing to write aside from just my time, or lack thereof, and health complications that seem to always get in the way. Not complaints but relevant factors to those waiting on updates.

1. Getting hacked twice in a row sucked ASS.

2. I’ve started to drift a bit from Bucky in general. I still love him but the lack of content of him the MCU since Endgame, or even TFATWS, has been killer. No inspiration anymore. The fandom has changed.

3. This is one that has silently bothered me the most for quite some time even though it’s been so long but it mattered to me.

Something that has also been getting in the way of me updating Take It Back 2 has been the issues I had with the first one that I never got around to fixing or acknowledging.

If you’ve read book 2 at all you might understand this a little bit better.

Granted, I was younger when I wrote the first book and i’ve grown since then, and maybe that’s why I felt the need over time to make some certain changes or explain things in the story better. Who knows. But…

* I never liked how I made it seem like the reader (Or Riley Grace, if you’ve read the OC version) was very anti money, anti having anything material. That was never my intention. And I noticed that I made her seem that way. Yes, I wanted her to be concerned that her sister was putting those things first before everything else and also concerned that something was wrong, but not that Riley/Reader was against money or life in general. She isn’t by any means frugal or cheap.

* I didn’t make it clear enough in Book 1 that there was underlying things happening to Ashlyn that was pushing her “gold digger” tendencies, or for that to appear as so, to the forefront. There was more things happening to her.

* I didn’t like how little I let it show that her and Bucky do share this love and respect that Reader, and the actual readers themselves, haven’t seen. I feel like I made Ashlyn too cold and not as much mysterious.

* I always found Bucky and Reader a bit too self centered and conceited to themselves and what they thought was an issue and making their problems seem bigger than everyone else’s. As well as making what they thought what they thought was more important than Ashlyn herself or without considering her own life and her own emotions.

* Despite Ashlyn doing what she did and behaving the way she did, something always rubbed me the wrong way about how I made the girls view her in the story. Ashlyn might not be innocent, but I did not like how I made Reader/Riley appear like she was more supported by the other girls in the story when what she had done was also not good.

* How people let what Bucky and Reader did “let it slide.”

So they were little things, but things that always bothered me and was honestly getting in the way of me continuing the sequel. It was mostly my distaste I had on the Bucky/Reader front. I wanted them to love and love deeply, but not while disregarding Ashlyn as a human being and as a woman.

So the last few weeks, i’ve gone back and i’ve corrected some major grammatical issues in the first book, but i’ve also added some sentences here and there. I’ve also added on some dialogue to correct some of the issues I had that were listed above. So I didn’t remove anything, the story is still the same, but I did add onto it.

I’m much happier with the outcome and I think it will making going forward easier for me as a story teller.

The updated one is updated on Wattpad and AO3, the Bucky/Reader version. I haven’t posted the corrected one on Tumblr yet.

#take it back #bucky fanfic

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harrington-love · 6 months

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All The Little Moments (That Brought Me Back To You)

Summary: A piece in which Nancy Wheeler falls back in love with Steve Harrington

Notes:

My first ever (completed) Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler piece. Of course, this is dedicated to my wonderful discord pals who have become my own found family. This wouldn't have been possible without their love, encouragement, and support. This story focuses more on Nancy's perspective, thoughts, and feelings in her season four scenes with Steve, with a few of my own made up events that follow the very last episode. As for the actual canon events and dialogue that happened in season four, I do NOT claim those as my own. I also do NOT claim the characters as my own. All the credit, rightfully so, goes to the writers of this fantastic show. This is just a retelling :) This story is for a mature audience, so if you are not 18 years or older, please do NOT read this piece. Lastly, this story also features a bit of Jonathan x Nancy for narrative purposes, but if you're looking for a happy ending for them, you won't find it here. (Most likely you won't find it in the show either. Oops. #TeamStancy)

WC: 10,303

Divider: @saradika (Check out all of their beautiful headers and dividers!!)

Nancy doesn’t even know how it happened.

One moment, in the dark and quiet of the night on a boat at Lovers’ Lake, eyes twinkling and a faint pink dusting her cheeks, she’d whispered a heartfelt “Be careful” to the boy who, if she was being honest, wasn’t a boy anymore.

Steve.

He was a man, a beautiful man who had taken her by surprise over the last few days they found themselves together. She was amazed at how easily they were able to fall back into laughter, how effortlessly a smile stretched across her lips at one of his corny jokes that she’d heard a million times, but always made her laugh as though she was hearing it for the first.

There was something else though, that accompanied this feeling of amazement. Something deep and warm and fond, that’d been present as she plucked spiderwebs from his perfectly styled hair. She felt it when he had offered…no, insisted on joining her at the library. It was present in her urgency as she leapt from the boat into the deep depth of the water to find him, to save him, just like he’d done for her so many times before.

The next moment, she’s protecting him with a boat oar from interdimensional bats with razor sharp teeth that gnaw at his bloodied flesh. The force behind her swing is enough to kill them, making them pay for causing harm to the man that’s spent his teenage years protecting others from it.

She inspects his wounds when he stands, fingers gently grazing the marks on his arm and shoulder. He makes a joke that he’s never been better despite having a pound of flesh torn off his body, and instead of scolding him for his inability to be serious for one moment, she lets herself breathe. And maybe even smile.

Hiding in the shadows of the Upside Down’s version of Skull Rock is when Nancy is overcome with a whole different feeling entirely. It’s not a new feeling, however. She felt it in the Hawkins High girl’s bathroom sophomore year, back pressed against the tiled wall as Steve’s lips nipped and licked and kissed at her neck. It was there in the dim light of her bedroom when he’d kissed her slowly with wandering hands. And again in the darkness of Steve’s room, naked and vulnerable, tangled between his bedsheets.

She watches Steve stumble, dizzy and weak from blood loss, and urges him to his knees. With no other option, she kneels in front of him, close enough to feel his breath on her cheeks. The bat bite isn’t infected as far as Nancy can tell, but the wound is completely exposed and she won’t risk him being subjected to more pain.

She rips the bottom part of her sweater clean off. Her eyes ask permission, fabric held between nimble fingers. He grunts his consent, hands cradling the back of his head as the sweater piece grazes the sticky wound. She wants to make sure it’s secure, tying the fabric around his lower back, faltering slightly when the sound that leaves his lips mirrors a noise she’s heard before. He’s in pain, she knows this, but he’s a whimpering mess in front of her and past memories of her hands and tongue exploring his body are at the forefront of her mind.

Nancy makes the mistake of glancing up at his face. Half lidded eyes burn with something dark, and Nancy knows it can only be described as lust because she’s looking at him the same way he’s looking at her. He’s breathing deeply, pink lips parted, and for a moment Nancy thinks what if…

And then a few seconds later the ground shakes and Steve’s pulling her body into his chest, arm a snug shield around her collarbones. Her fingernails dig into his skin and if it hurts he doesn’t say anything, his steady breath next to her ear the only noise she hears. It’s a comforting sound, one that signifies he’s alive, and when the ground stops shaking she holds onto him for just a split second longer. Steve doesn’t mind one bit.

Eddie asks questions about the Upside Down and sometime after he receives his answers, Robin suggests finding grenades and guns to fend off the creatures. Eddie’s brows furrow, disbelief in his voice at the admission that Nancy Wheeler, out of all people, keeps guns locked away in her bedroom. There’s a husky voice behind her that says “You almost shot me with that one,” when she mentions owning a revolver.

Her head tilts slightly, a snicker on her face as she recalls the first time Steve was ever introduced to anything pertaining to the Upside Down. With a bloodied eye and a bruised ego, he’d come to the Byers’ house to apologize to Jonathan, only to force his way inside after one glance at her bandaged hand. He refused to leave until he knew she was okay, but he wasn’t moving quick enough for her and the lights had started to flicker. She couldn’t risk him being involved in the mess. Gun aimed at his chest, she’d said, “I’m doing this for you.”

Nancy chuckles now, a light and airy huff. So much has changed since then, including the two of them. “You almost deserved it,” is her answer, a coy smile on her lips as she gazes back at him. They don’t say anything afterward, basking in the silence and in the heat of each other’s closeness.

The moment is ruined by a denim vest being thrown in Steve’s direction. She and Steve blink, startled, and Eddie mentions something about modesty. Fuck modesty, she thinks.

Steve puts the vest on, much to Nancy’s dismay, but then her eyes trail over his form and she decides he looks good in it. Even if he is battered and bruised, he’s still just as handsome as he was back in high school. Maybe even more now.

And while she watches him flick on the flashlight and lead the way through the forest, she can’t help but be impressed by how much he’s matured over the years. She’s used to taking charge, being the one people follow, that the feeling of letting someone else lead is almost unfathomable.

And yet Nancy finds herself letting Steve guide the way, any and all complaints dying on her tongue. He’s walking into a strange and frightening world with determined eyes, a set jaw, and a confidence she isn’t used to. There’s no protest on his lips or hesitation in the way that he moves, a stark difference to his seventeen year old self. She’s enticed by this version of Steve, the one that sees danger and runs toward it, not from it. The one that has so naturally fallen into the role of a leader, someone that Nancy can trust to keep her safe.

She can’t help the smile that spreads across her cheeks as she follows him into the unknown.

They’d been able to make contact with Lucas, Dustin, and Erica, and eventually found their way to Eddie’s trailer. It was there they discovered a gate that would lead them back to Hawkins. All they had to do was climb through. Easy enough.

Robin and Eddie had made it up the rope smoothly, landing comfortably on a mattress waiting for them on the other side. Nancy is halfway up the rope, ready to emerge on the other side of the portal, when something in the air shifts and suddenly she’s falling, her back eventually colliding with hard ground. Her eyes open to the horrific sight of a dead Barbara Holland cocooned in tentacles at the bottom of Steve’s empty pool.

Visions of that night replay on a loop. Some are of Barb’s pained screams as she was brutally taken from the world. Others are of herself and Steve, bodies pressed against each other, soft moans filling the quiet of his room and tongues licking into mouths. “You’re so beautiful,” he’d said, right as his hips pressed flush with hers. She’d felt all of him that night, a moment that was sweet and pure, or should have been, overshadowed by unresolved guilt.

Nancy doesn’t like to cry if she can help it, but she sheds tears for her best friend who was taken much too soon. She cries for the girl she used to be before being introduced to a world of horrors, and the childhood innocence that was taken from her all in one night that she’d given into passion.

The rest of Vecna’s visions are just as awful as the next, and Nancy can’t bear to think of a world where Hawkins is destroyed and taken over by monsters. A world where her mom, Holly, and Mike, don’t survive. A world where her friends are beaten down, traumatized, and irreparably broken.

The world that Vecna shows her is Hawkins’ reality in a few days' time, and Nancy’s not sure if he’ll even let her live long enough to see the city crumble. But he sends her off with a message for Eleven, and when the visions subside, her body falls limp. She’s too weak from the crying and the yelling and the pleading to catch herself as she collapses.

But Steve does. Of course he does. He’s gentle when he maneuvers her onto the ground, head on his arm with his hand cradling her cheek, thumb rubbing at stray tears on her lashes. Her breaths are slight gasps and she’s riddled with fear, unable to hear anything over the sound of her own panic.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m right here.”

The words aren’t just comforting, they’re a promise. Her eyes don’t leave him when he says it, assuring her over and over that he’s here with her and he isn’t going anywhere. She focuses on mimicking his steady breathing, the concern in his hazel eyes lighting a fire in her chest. Safe, sound, and supported in Steve’s arms is when she comes to realize that he never stopped caring about her.

The plan for defeating Vecna includes a trip to the War Zone for as much ammunition as they can take without becoming suspicious. Eddie surprises everyone by hot wiring a caravan for the adventure, and Steve shocks the gang by driving it quite well under pressure.

Nancy takes the seat beside him, enjoying the comfortable silence before asking, “How does it handle?” He jokes with a smile, “Pretty well for a house.”

She doesn’t feel pressured to keep up the conversation. Silence is never awkward around Steve. But she watches as his mouth bobs open slightly and turns in her seat, full attention on him. He almost looks sheepish.

He tells her about his dream of a big family, three boys and three girls. Her brows raise at the number, but soften as she remembers for the last two years or so Steve’s been taking care of seven kids just fine. Dustin, Lucas, Erica, Max, Will, El, and Mike truly don’t know how lucky they are.

Even if the number of kids sounds like a bit much, she still listens to his dream. A dream that involves two active parents, happy and in love, traveling the country in a van similar to this one, creating memories with their children every summer. Stops along the way include Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon, and learning how to surf in a small town in California.

She says the dream sounds nice and there’s nothing but truth in her words. His eyes divert from the road, locking with hers, a soft “Yeah?” falling off his lips. Her head bobs forward, a gentle “Yeah,” leaving her mouth with a smile.

He turns back to the road but she can’t. All she can do is stare at him, beautifully bathed in daylight. And a dream that once sounded like a nightmare suddenly doesn’t sound so bad after all.

Once more in the caravan, the teenagers rehearse the plan to attack Vecna. They only have one shot to do it correctly, and Nancy wants to be thorough. Once she’s satisfied, she leads them across the grass to Eddie’s trailer.

The rope is still dangling, connecting both worlds, and Dustin tells Steve to be careful before he climbs, expertly flipping into the Upside Down. Robin isn’t impressed, but Nancy can’t say the same because she is impressed, evident by the way the corners of her mouth raise endearingly.

Nancy lands on the mattress with a thud, reaching for the outstretched hand presented in front of her. She lets Steve pull her to her feet, but he doesn’t know his own strength and pulls her a hair’s breadth away from his lips. Her eyes burn into his, but for a brief moment they flit to his lips and back again. She’s not subtle, and he notices, but he won’t be the one to pull away first.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve bid goodbye to Dustin and Eddie who are left in charge of distracting the demobats. Nancy watches as Steve takes a long look at Dustin, torn between staying with him or leaving him behind. She comforts him with a hand to his shoulder, assuring him that Dustin’s in good hands with Eddie by his side.

The trek through the woods is cold and dark, and someone as uncoordinated as Robin shouldn’t be running through trees and hopping over logs, but she darts off ahead anyway. Steve makes a comment about her being a “Klutz” but really he can’t poke fun at her too much because he’s had his own share of clumsy moments.

There was a time when baby Steve crawled backwards and ended up falling down a flight of stairs, thumping his head on the way. “That makes so much sense,” Nancy jokes, and she’s not expecting Steve to agree with her.

Steve knows he’s a confident guy, but he has times where he just can’t help but feel like an idiot. The word makes Nancy grimace because he’s anything but. He’s had his fair share of questionable friends, choices, and morals, but idiot is too strong of a word to describe his past self.

Over the last few days, Steve has done nothing but surprise Nancy. But the biggest surprise of all is when he stops in his tracks and looks at her with the most vulnerable look she’s ever seen and thanks her for giving his head “The biggest thump of its life, two years ago.”

Her shoulders deflate as he turns, assuring her he needed that thump on his head. How it changed him for the better, and how he’s able to move forward now, albeit slowly. He wonders what would have happened between the two of them if some other girl had knocked some sense into him.

He thinks they would have made it if they were meeting for the first time now. And Nancy, not one who is usually rendered speechless, cannot find her voice. Because really, is there any right way to respond to your ex-boyfriend laying his heart in the palm of your hands?

Steve asks her if she recalls their conversation in the caravan, the one about his dream of the Winnebago and six kids. Of course she remembers. There was never a moment she’d seen him more honest and so…hopeful. As if they weren’t hours away from their potential death, and the only thing on his mind was a future with his own little family, one filled with laughter, love, and limitless smiles.

And Nancy finds that her eyes begin to water and her throat tickles when he says he forgot to mention the most important part of his dream. Mist clouds his eyes, voice unwavering.

“You’re there. You’ve always been there.”

Steve knocks the breath from her lungs with just six simple words. Six words that she never expected to hear, but are somehow the most beautiful words he’s ever said. After all this time, without even saying the word, she realizes that he loves her. Steve Harrington, the boy she inadvertently hurt two years ago while trying to process shame and guilt and grief, saw a future with her. Steve Harrington, the man baring his soul to her, giving her his heart and expecting nothing in return, still wants her. Needs her. Loves her.

She can’t stand here and say nothing. She wants to say something, but Robin has other ideas as she calls out for them, confirming they were heading in the right direction after all. When Nancy finds the courage to glance at Steve from under wet lashes, she’s met with a sigh and a head nod before he takes off after Robin.

And the feeling comes back again. The one she felt at the Creel house and on the boat at Lovers’ Lake. She doesn’t have a name for it but it grows stronger and burns brighter whenever she’s near him. It feels warm and safe and calm and exciting all in one. She doesn’t remember the last time she’s felt this way, but she thinks she could get used to this feeling.

They tried. They truly tried with everything in them. But the clock had struck four times and the ground opened up and the city of Hawkins fell before their eyes. The already small city was becoming a ghost town, cars flying down streets to flee from the aftermath. They'd lost Eddie and Max in the process.

They all felt responsible for what had happened to their once quaint town, and the only way to give back, to try and make things right, was to volunteer their help to the remaining citizens who were injured, hungry, or homeless.

Piling boxes into the back of Steve’s BMW is put on pause at the sound of a pizza van rolling into the Wheelers' driveway. Just when they needed something good, Eleven, Mike, Will, and Jonathan hop out of the vehicle, accompanied by a boy with an incredibly eccentric wardrobe.

Jonathan. The boy she hasn’t heard from or thought about for days, is scooping her into his arms and lifting her off the ground. He promises to tell her everything that’s happened over the last few days, but he kisses her forehead and whispers “I’m glad you're safe” before holding her once more.

Their reunion is short lived, with Jonathan bouncing off to introduce his new friend to the rest of the crew. She feels unproductive standing alone, suddenly realizing that they probably have a few more boxes to stack in Steve’s car. Unfortunately for Nancy, she turns around to the sight of the BMW driving off. A chance to be close to Steve disappearing down the road.

It’s Eleven who asks for someone to take her back to Hopper’s cabin, words pulling Nancy away from the vanishing vehicle. Nancy gently squeezes her hand and promises everyone will accompany her to the cabin. She deserves even a moment of normalcy.

The realization that the cabin needs a bit of remodeling hits them when they pull up to the vacant home. Eleven, Mike, and Will busy themselves with black trash bags and old garbage. Jonathan proclaims he’s handy with a hammer, so Nancy offers to help him board up the windows even though her mind is elsewhere. There’s tension all around them, if fleeting eyes and tight lipped smiles are any indication.

Nancy tries to distract herself by hammering a nail into the wood, but then Jonathan says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” and the first thing out of her mouth is, “I'm glad you weren’t.” Because someone else was.

Jonathan’s brows furrow and she realizes how that sounds, backtracking to explain she’s glad he was taking care of Mike and Will. He’s always been good at that. She doesn’t know if he says it to be petty, but it’s her turn to look confused when he says, “I’m glad you were here.”

He makes an offhand comment about Steve being in charge if Nancy hadn’t been, and his tone doesn’t sit right with her. She feels the need to defend Steve and she knows Jonathan had expected her to laugh along with him, but his comment isn’t received well and instead he turns away, muttering an uncomfortable, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

They resume hammering, but it’s not long until he asks the dreaded question. “Are we okay?”

And really, how is she supposed to answer that when essentially nothing between them has been okay over the last few weeks? Conversations between them have been flat and plans have been rescheduled more than once or completely ignored. She’d started questioning whether he really wanted to see her. On his list of priorities, where was she?

She lies and answers, “Yeah, totally,” and states how hard it’s been with life throwing wrenches in their big plans. Big plans that include attending Emerson, Nancy studying journalism while Jonathan practices photography. She’s hounded him about it before, so she doesn’t see the harm in asking one last time if he received his application letter in the mail.

Unsurprisingly he says it hasn’t come yet. The disappointment she feels isn’t caused by the missing letter, but more from the thought that she’s being lied to. He hadn’t even looked her in the face when she’d asked, but she still wants to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Something soft lands on the tip of her nose and she gently brushes it off, about to hammer the last of the nails when something else lands on her finger. She glances at Jonathan, who flicks a piece of the substance off his wrist, and their attention is grabbed by Will calling out to them.

They rush over to join Hopper, Eleven, Joyce, Mike, and Will, who’s hand is locked on the back of his own neck. There’s goosebumps on his skin when he whispers, “Something’s wrong,” and whatever is falling from the sky is plummeting faster and more frequently.

Hopper weaves around branches in the forest and they follow him curiously, all pausing once they arrive on the peak of the hill to see Hawkins overcome by thick smoke, illuminated by a bright red sky. Screams and shrieks scatter throughout the burning city, and Nancy, unblinking, swallows when she puts the pieces together.

Hawkins is merging with the Upside Down. The creatures are beginning to take over the city, growling and screeching and tearing apart anything in their path. And she’s two seconds away from gearing up for the fight of her life.

And this time, they’d won.

Hawkins, Indiana, as Nancy knew it, is destroyed. 37 killed. 14 missing. 65 wounded. Homes, buildings, schools, stores, all demolished or unsalvageable. She estimates it will take at least a year to fix the damage that has been done. But hell, Nancy would take a demolished city over losing her loved ones any day.

Nancy never considered herself fond of hugs, but she is giving them out like candy on Halloween despite everyone being tired and dirty, covered head to toe in blood and ash.

Mike, teary eyed and lips quivering, reciprocates her bone crushing embrace without protest.

Eleven, fully drained and on the verge of collapsing, practically falls into Nancy’s arms. Nancy makes sure to kiss the top of her head, whispering, “I’m so proud of you,” loud enough for only El to hear.

And Jonathan, who struggles to untangle his limbs from Will and Joyce, finally wraps his arms around her.

Steve is already staring at her when their eyes meet. He’s alone, filthy and exhausted, hands on his hips as he sucks in deep breaths, but he finds the strength to lift a palm and give her a shy wave. And suddenly Jonathan's arms feel anything but comforting. He feels cold and distant and awkward, unable to compare to Steve’s warm skin, toned muscles, and tenderness. Nancy decides it’s been too long since she’s felt his embrace, and he looks like he needs one, too.

She doesn’t make it three steps in his direction before a piece of paper crunches beneath her boot. It’s crumpled and covered in soot but she picks it up anyway, unfolding the creases and squinting at the tiny print.

Her heart sinks into her stomach when she realizes she’s holding Jonathan’s acceptance letter to Lenora Community College. She only reads the first two lines before it’s promptly snatched from her fingers.

“What are you doing? Where did you get that?” Jonathan’s voice is frantic as he fails to hide the letter behind his back. His eyes are everywhere but on her, the tips of his ears turning as red as Nancy feels.

Her tongue is sharp and unforgiving, ripping the letter from his grasp and holding it up at eye level, forcing him to confront her. “You lied to me.”

The streets begin to clear except for the firefighters and National Guard, but Nancy stays glued to her spot. This isn’t just about him anymore. She’s supposed to be part of his future. She needs answers. “Tell me why. Start talking.”

And part of her wishes she never asked, because it’s the most honest Jonathan has been in months, brutally so. “Lenora is home,” He says, absentmindedly kicking rubble. “I can’t leave Will and my mom. I can’t do it, Nancy. I won’t do it.”

That’s why he’s been distant, she thinks. He knew this whole time. He knew he wasn’t coming with me.

Jonathan is notoriously pessimistic when it comes to love and relationships, but she never realized just how hopeless he felt when he pictured their future. He rambles on and on about how she would have given up Emerson to be with him in Lenora if she had known the truth. About how they would fall out of love and grow to resent each other, just like his parents did. How their kids would end up hating him. The future he pictures for them is a bleak one, a never ending cycle of hardship and heartache.

It’s not noble. It’s not chivalrous. His confession toes the line of being downright presumptuous. All this time she was so sure of what she wanted, of who she wanted, but now she questions if she truly ever knew Jonathan Byers, and if he ever really knew her.

She hands the letter back to him, nothing but a deep set frown etched into her skin. They don’t move and they don’t speak because his confession had said enough. A life with Nancy Wheeler would be a miserable one. He doesn’t see happiness or joy or hell, even love.

But another man does. And all this time, she could have been with someone who saw a future with her, who wanted a future with her. She glances around for him, coming up blank when he’s nowhere in sight. Dusk is approaching darkness, but she won’t let the lack of light stop her from finding him.

So she begins to walk.

By the time Nancy finds herself outside of the Harrington household, nighttime has fallen over the city. The sky is dark ink, illuminated by the moon and a few scattered stars. Devoid of gray smoke and red lightning, it’s the prettiest sky Hawkins has seen in days. She’s surrounded by woods, quiet and peaceful, and for the first time all day Nancy feels calm.

There was once a time where Nancy could anticipate what Steve would say in a given situation. She knew him well enough to predict his thoughts and finish his sentences. But years later she’s unsure of how he’ll respond to her showing up on his doorstep, if he’s even home. She thinks about turning around and heading back to her place, but the thought is fleeting. She needs to see him.

She knocks three times and waits, teeth finding her lip as her stomach churns. The lock clicks, and she doesn’t have time to rethink her decision before the door creaks open, revealing one very confused Steve. One look at him has her assuming he must have gotten home not too long ago. Dirt and blood still stain his face, and the warzone outfit is snug on his body. He looks like a hero. She thinks he is one.

“Nance?”

Soft, breathy, tender. Nance. It still warms her heart like it did when she was sixteen years old. He’s the only one who’s ever called her Nance, still the only one. It never would have felt right coming from anyone else.

She answers with a bashful “Hi,” apologizing for disturbing him so late. He says it’s not a bother, that she’s not a bother, and her heart swells. He makes her feel special, even if sometimes she doesn’t feel that way.

Steve moves to the side to let her through, gently closing the door behind her. It’s been years since she’s set foot inside his house, but there’s a certain comfort she feels when she glances around and realizes not much has changed, from the soft yellow lights in the living room to the myriad of family pictures lined perfectly on every wall. She zeroes in on a photo of a young Steve, basketball clutched between fingers and a toothy grin stretched across his cheeks. It’s her favorite one.

Nancy could beam at photos of little Steve for hours but she knows he’s probably waiting for her to say something, to explain why she showed up on his doorstep. He’s patient, wearing the faintest smile so as to not pressure her to speak, but the wheels in his mind are working overtime, ultimately coming up blank with a reason as to why instead of going home, she came searching for him.

Nancy can’t help but reach for him, arms snaking around his middle, head pressed against his chest as she buries herself in him like she’s wanted to for hours. There’s a weight lifted from her shoulders, one that can only disappear in the safe and protective hold that Steve provides.

And he returns her hug without question, because Steve Harrington would be incredibly foolish to fumble the chance at having Nancy Wheeler in his arms again if only for a moment. He hugs her like he used to, arm around the top of her shoulders, chin resting on her head, one hand in her curls.

And they say nothing for a while because they really don’t need to. The embrace says enough for the both of them. Neither one wants to break away first, basking in the feeling of being in each other’s arms, even if they’re sweaty and bloody and covered in remnants of interdimensional monster guts.

His whisper of, “What’s this for?” ruptures the silence, and instead of responding she squeezes him a bit tighter because there’s something about him that is just so damn comforting. The chuckle in his chest vibrates against her cheek, and it’s the sweetest sound she’s heard all day.

“I just missed you.” It’s a quiet and earnest confession, one that hits Steve right in the heart. He recalls so many late nights thinking that he’d never get the chance to have her in his life again. That he’d fucked up one too many times to deserve a woman as incredible as Nancy Wheeler.

But here she is, standing in his house, wrapped in his arms, telling him she missed him. He has half a mind to pinch himself to see if he’s dreaming. He hopes the universe would never be that cruel to him.

“I missed you too, Nance,” He swallows timidly, fingers brushing the back of her head as they did when he’d snuck into her bedroom to hold her for a few hours, escaping through the window when the soft drag of his fingers had eventually lulled her to sleep.

“More than you could ever know.” Steve could stand there and hold Nancy forever, and he wants to, but he heaves a sigh because he doesn’t trust himself not to bend down and kiss her breathless, so he reluctantly pulls away first because he’s trying so hard to be respectful of her relationship with Jonathan.

He clocks the disappointment that swirls in her bright eyes and he excuses himself quickly before he does something he’s not even sure that she wants. He busies himself with the thought that he should clean the days’ old bat bites on his hip that have no doubt reopened, so he tells Nancy to make herself comfortable while he freshens up in the master bathroom.

Steve doesn't realize she’s followed him until he begins to strip off his clothes, tossing them onto the bathroom floor. His jacket is discarded along with his stained shirt, leaving only tattered combat pants on his body.

Only then does he look up and lock eyes with Nancy, who stands in the doorway shuffling her feet. She’s wearing a look that he recognizes all too well. Eyebrows pulled inward, teeth chewing at the corner of her bottom lip. She wants to ask him something, but she can’t find the right words.

He asks if she’s okay and she nods, toeing across the tile until she’s standing in front of him. Her eyes glance over the blood stained bandages around his abdomen, fingertips grazing the skin just above. “Can I help?” She questions finally, eyes pleading. She hopes he accepts her offer. It’s about time someone took care of him. “Please?”

She could ask him to pluck the stars from the sky and he would simply find a way just because she asked. If Steve Harrington knows anything about himself, it’s that he will always be soft for Nancy Wheeler.

He does his best to hop up onto the sink, groaning every now and again as he tries to shimmy into a comfortable position while Nancy moves around the bathroom effortlessly. She looks like she belongs here with him, and his mind does what it does best and wanders to the future. To their house. To them. Together. A dream he wishes wasn’t so far out of reach.

Steve expects her to busy herself with the bites on his hip first, but Nancy’s finger gently lifts his chin until they’re eye level, warm cloth brushing over his skin. He can’t bring himself to peel his eyes away from her face and the way her gaze holds so much concern for him. Not that he wants to look elsewhere anyway. She’s focused on cleaning the grime off his face, but every now and again her eyes flick to his and she gives him one of her tight lipped smiles. He returns them everytime.

And she’s gentle with him. So gentle that his head grows heavy in her small hand and his eyelids begin to flutter, exhausted from a hard day’s work. He has half a mind to let himself doze off in her palm because he knows he’s safe with her, but his eyes are forced open when Nancy murmurs, “Can I ask you something?”

He can’t tell what’s exactly on her mind but he gauges it can’t be that bad since her voice isn’t wavering like it usually does when she’s nervous. He nods, trying to ignore the sudden heat on his cheeks when her fingers delicately run over the fading bruise on his throat and the scar on his jaw. “Did you mean it? I mean– what you said…about me? About us?”

Us. He’s thought about them so many times. About what it would be like to reconcile, start fresh. To talk about the mistakes they’ve made, and to make promises in the dark of the night as they hold each other close, to never hurt each other again. Not purposely, at least.

But there’s a worry in his stomach that his honesty will scare her, especially if she hasn’t thought about him at all. He weighs his options and decides on the truth, because Nancy Wheeler is nothing if not persistent, and she would keep asking until she received the answer she was looking for. When Steve finds his voice, it’s strong and sure. “Of course I did.”

His certainty squeezes Nancy’s heart. There’s many things Steve has been uncertain about in his life. School, career, and aspirations being a few. His feelings for Nancy were never one of them.

The admission turns her shy, pink cheeked, and her head falls to the side away from his burning gaze, and that just won’t do for Steve because he already misses the pretty color of her eyes. His favorite pastime is getting lost in them.

So now it’s his turn to raise her face until she has nowhere else to look but at him, thumb brushing a streak of dirt on her cheek. He swears she leans into his touch, so he cups her cheek more firmly. “I meant every single word, Nance. I hope I didn’t scare you, but I just…I needed you to know.”

There’s not a single part of his dream that made her uneasy. It was unexpected, maybe. But scary? Not a chance. There was something hopeful in the way that he spoke so lovingly about a simple future. And over the last few days when she had gathered herself for bed and settled in for the night, she couldn’t help but wonder what a life with Steve could look like. The more she thought about his vision, the more she was drawn to it.

“Look…I know you’re with Jonathan,” There’s an ache in his chest that’s just as painful as the reminder that Nancy’s heart belongs to someone else. Steve doesn’t want to think about how he’d given another man a chance to love her when it should have been him all along.

But that man was responsible for so many of Nancy’s smiles. She deserves to love and be loved back. Steve can’t truly find it in his heart to be mad. “And I know he makes you happy. I’m so glad he makes you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Nance.”

Her fingers work at disinfecting the wound on his hip, but she’s not even sure if she’s doing it correctly because his words have her in a trance. She can’t tear her gaze from him, raw sincerity swimming in hazel eyes.

Steve’s shoulders deflate with a long overdue exhale, sliding off the sink to be closer to her because she’s entirely too far away. “And maybe telling you about my dream while you’re still with him is a selfish thing to do, but Nance I have to be selfish one more time because I’m not sure if I’ll ever get another chance to say this to you.”

She drops the stained cloth when he cradles her face in his hands and it’s her turn to melt between his fingers. Foreheads touch, noses bump, and lips are just a hair’s breadth apart as Steve says, “You’re the one for me, Nance. There’s not a single person in this world who could compare to you.”

Steve swallows around thick emotion because this woman has had his heart for almost three years and she deserves to know just how much she means to him. “And if there ever comes a time where we can try again…where we can try us again…I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel loved the way that you need. You are the most important part of my dream. Not kids, not Winnebago summers…you.” A pause, another shy gulp, and one final confession. “And that’s because I love you, Nancy Wheeler. I love you . I love you so damn much and I haven’t stopped and I don’t want to stop because loving you is what I was meant to do. I hope you'll let me."

She knew it was coming. She knew it was coming and yet she wasn’t prepared for how his words would set her body aflame. How they would light up her heart with the warmest glow. She thinks there’s nothing more enticing than a man who knows exactly what he wants, and he wants her. Steve Harrington, after all this time, after the hurt, the pain, the betrayal, sees Nancy Wheeler as the biggest part of his life.

And for Nancy, everything begins to make sense. The feeling comes rushing back. The one that’s deep and warm and fond and has been present ever since Steve Harrington walked back into her life. It blooms in her chest and pools in her eyes when she gazes at him, the most honest and sincere and beautiful man she’s ever known. And she finally has a word for it.

It’s love. Nancy Wheeler has been falling back in love with Steve Harrington and she’s finally ready to accept it. She’s enchanted by him and the way he’s grown to be confident and driven. Dependable and sensitive. Brave and honest and thoughtful. He’s everything she wants, everything she knew he could be. What a fool she’d be to not leap at the chance to be with him again.

She feels him start to pull away and before he can she circles her hands around his wrists, cementing his hands to her face because even if she’s away from him for one second, it’s a second too long. His eyes are shiny and she knows hers are too because the evidence slides down her cheeks.

She stuns him when she whispers that she’s no longer with Jonathan. As serious as the moment is, she allows herself to breathe a chuckle at his comically wide eyes. And sure, neither she nor Jonathan uttered the words “I’m breaking up with you”, but what kind of relationship could they have going forward with Nancy knowing the only future Jonathan envisioned for them is one that would leave her unsatisfied?

Nancy Wheeler swore to herself that she would never end up like her parents, two people who married for convenience without ever considering that convenience wouldn’t be enough to keep their marriage afloat. Her mom is unhappy, dad emotionally absent. To sustain a marriage you need more than just practicality.

And she loves her parents, she really does, but Nancy wants to do things differently. She wants respect, love, passion, partnership, and so many other qualities that would never be present in Jonathan’s future, but seem to line up perfectly with Steve’s. The choice is easy.

Steve listens as she recalls Jonathan’s future, one where she would be settling in a loveless relationship, and Steve’s hold on her face tightens because he knows he’s capable of giving her so much more than Jonathan could ever imagine, and he plans on showing her.

And then Nancy beams hard when she talks about hope and how his dream gives her some semblance of normalcy after all these years of chaos. How with him, she'll be able to have a career and a beautiful family to come home to. She thinks it’s what they both need.

But one part of his dream may be a bit too chaotic, and with a smirk she asks if they can compromise and settle on two kids and a cat because six kids might prove to be a handful. A puff of air ghosts over her lips as Steve leans in. “Nancy Wheeler, if it was possible I’d carve out a piece of my soul and give it to you.”

He laughs, but Nancy knows he would if he could. His love for her is insurmountable. This is what it feels like to be loved, adored. To have a partner who sees emotional vulnerability as a strength. To be with a man who loves and loves hard. She never wants this feeling to end.

“I know,” She affirms with a nod, hands sliding from his wrists and up his shoulders until her arms wrap around his neck. His palms descend down her sides, resting easy on her hips. “I know you would. But I’ve been waiting days for you to kiss me again. So please, please kiss me Steve. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Steve Harrington is beautiful all the time, but his beauty shines differently when he’s in love. “I’ll kiss you for the rest of our lives if you let me.”

And he seals that promise when his lips glide over hers for the first time in two years, and Nancy knows it's the best kiss she's ever had. Their mouths mold perfectly against each other, tongues licking ardently as teeth playfully nip on plush pink flesh. Body to body they cling to each other, hot and desperate and wanting.

They only break away for a moment to rid each other of the rest of their clothes before stumbling into the shower, giggling and touching and melting under the other’s touch. The water is hot but neither one of them mind because now without the weight of the world on their shoulders, they’re able to breathe and relax in the comfort of shared space and warm lips.

Their kisses are fervent, but time spent touching and exploring bodies is slow, unrushed. Fingertips graze over pebbling nipples and pectoral muscles. Hips and a happy trail. Hands knead and rub skin, attempting to coax strings of more and fuck and please from slick lips. Things are different between them now, they’re different, but the way they love on each other is the same.

She breathes a gasp into Steve’s mouth when the hard muscle between his legs brushes up against her, the tip pink and pretty and slick with arousal. His cheeks are flushed from the shower steam and underlying shyness, and his eagerness turns Nancy’s need into a craving. He wants her just as much as she wants him.

Patience is a virtue, but it has never been one Nancy is fond of. There’s no hesitation when she forces him down onto the marble bench in the corner of the shower. He’s taken by surprise at first, eyes round and lips parted, brows slightly pinched.

Her voice is pleading as she says, “I need you," straddling his lap with her thighs on either side of him. She dives in again, connecting their lips in a frenzied passion as she finds a steady rhythm, rocking her hips against him. Her slick coats him and he hisses, hands bruising her skin as she’s pulled flush against his chest.

Steve whispers her name, hoarse and needy, but she’s zeroed in on grinding her hips in a way she hopes will make him fall apart. His tip catches on her clit and she moans, maneuvering her hand to find the hard length of him. Before she can sink down and claim him, he groans her name again, still wrecked, catching her wrist in his palm. “Nance, shit–fuck–baby, wait.”

She’s about to whine like a petulant child because she’s so close to having him the way that she’s been wanting to for days, until she notices the familiar emotion clouding his honey eyes, halting her movement entirely. For the first time all night Steve appears nervous, insecurities breaching his naturally confident aura.

He swallows, mouth upturned timidly. “I need to know that you want me, too.”

She frowns then, ready to counter and call him crazy because how could she not want him, but he shushes her with a light peck to her lips. “I need to know that we’re in this together, Nance. I don’t want you hiding or running away from me, not anymore. I said I want you and I meant it. Every single part of you. The parts you love, the parts you hate. The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. I want them all.”

She’ll never grow tired of him saying it, never get over the way her heart beats for him. She’s well aware of what he’s asking of her, and while communication and trust have been areas she’s struggled in, she knows she can try for him. She doesn’t want to leave him in the dark again, never leave him questioning where they stand.

She leans into his touch when he cradles her face in his hands. “And if we fight, we fix it. We don’t go to sleep mad. We talk. We apologize. We help each other, support each other. Look Nance, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. And at the end of the day, I just need to know you’ll still want me too,” His next words come out low, but she hears them loud and clear. “You’ll want us.”

She pulls back to look at him, inspecting him as she would a delicate painting. The gears in his brain are working overtime, and Nancy knows he’s being plagued with thoughts about their past relationship. Guilt worms its way into her chest at the remembrance of how they’d left things, of how he’d begged her to say just three little words. Nancy needs him to know he’ll never have to beg again.

Her fingers find damp chestnut hair, pushing the wet strands away from his face before settling her palm on his cheek, thumb running over a small smattering of freckles. Her heart soars when he leans into her touch too, gazing at her with nothing but love in his eyes. She knows exactly what he needs to hear. “I love you.”

His mouth parts in protest because he can’t let her say those words unless she means it. His heart broke once when she couldn’t say them before. It doesn’t deserve to break again if she feels like she owes him. “Nance, please don’t-.”

It’s her turn to silence him with a kiss, breathing her love into him between the small part in his pretty lips. “Listen to me. I came back to you because I love you. I want us to work. I know we can. I couldn’t give you the love you deserved back then, but I have the chance to do it now and I’m going to make sure you never question it again. I promise.”

It’s a promise she plans on keeping every day because he’s worth it.

“I thought about you,” She whispers then, free hand settling on his unoccupied cheek. She attempts to blink away the sting in her eyes. “I wondered where you were, what you were doing, if-if some other girl was giving you the love I wish I would have. Because you were good to me, Steve. You were.”

She hopes he hasn’t spent years pondering over his competency to be a good partner. He wasn’t perfect, she never expected him to be, but he was sweet and kind and thoughtful. His flower deliveries were simply ‘just because’. He valued her opinions, even if he disagreed. His dumb jokes made her belly laugh, and his kisses were sugary sweet and dizzying and consuming. She was never left to wonder if he loved her. He showed it in his own way.

“After Barb died, you tried,” There’s a hiccup that passes through her lips, more following when she struggles to catch her breath. Her tears are disguised by water droplets, but Steve knows they’re there because he knows her. His thumb reaches out to catch them.

“You tried to help me the best way you could but it just–wasn’t what I needed back then. Things might have been different if I had just told you…if I had just let you in. Instead I got drunk and I–I called you bullshit.”

It wasn’t one of her finest moments, holding his heart in her hands and dismantling it piece by piece. Blaming them, blaming him, for Barb’s death. She wishes she could take it all back.

“I still remember your face when I said it, and I need you to know that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re not bullshit. You never were. You cared about me in your own way, and you loved me so much and you still love me even after all of this, and I–.”

“Nance, hey. Baby, breathe,” She’s enveloped in secure arms, Steve’s lips pressing against her forehead as she curls in on him, body shuddering from the overwhelming rush of tears. She doesn’t like crying if she can help it, but she needs this. Needs to tell him everything she couldn’t before. “Baby, we both made mistakes. We both could have been better. I should have been better for you, and I'm so sorry I wasn't. But the reason we can have this conversation now is because we’ve both grown up, yeah? We can’t change anything about the past, even if we want to. So let’s promise to work on our future, okay?”

Our future. It sounds so beautiful when he says it. She can't believe this man is hers. This wholesome, mature, gorgeous man is all hers.

“Our future. That…sounds nice.” With newfound flirtatiousness, she purrs the same words that were uttered in the caravan. The grin on Steve’s cheeks is bigger than the one that had spread across his face that day.

She doesn’t miss the rasp in his voice or the way his nose skims against her jawbone, lips migrating down to her neck. He plants a kiss there, gentle and teasing, her pulse racing underneath the plush of his lips. “Yeah, baby?”

Baby. It feels so good to be his again, but she thinks it’ll feel even better when she asserts him as her own, core fluttering in anticipation. “Yeah, Steve. It sounds really, really nice.”

And when she finally sinks down on him, there’s nothing on their minds except love. Sheer, reciprocated love. No shame or guilt about past faults. No worries or insecurities about the future. They’re simply Steve and Nancy. Nancy and Steve. Two past-turned-present lovers giving themselves to each other, clinging together to make up for lost time.

They could ravish each other now and goddamn they want to, but it’s Steve who chooses to slow things down a bit first, easing himself into her because her pleasure and comfortability are his top priorities. Steady thrusts help her adjust to his length, and deep thrusts make sure she feels everything, reminding her he’s here and he’s not going anywhere.

She squeaks on a particularly deep thrust, almost missing the sweetness that drips from his words. “You’re all mine,” He assures, breath hot against the column of her throat. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but he swears he feels his dick grow even harder when she whines, “I’m all yours.”

One thing about sex with Steve that hasn’t changed? He’s a sweet talker and he’s damn good at it. He sings her praises, litanies of, “You’re so good for me,” “You take me so well,” and “That’s it baby, you’re so beautiful,” stealing the breath from her lungs. She’s never felt more desired than when she’s with him, never felt more worshiped. And Steve will never go another day without reminding her that her beauty is simply unparalleled.

He’s touching and loving on her everywhere. It’s what he does best and it’s what she deserves and fuck, her head is dizzy with pleasure. Hot, open mouthed kisses are dotted along her neck and throat. She exhales an airy giggle before it morphs into a moan when teeth drag over her pulse point. He wraps his lips around her skin, sucking and biting while a hand grips her jaw to keep her in place. Steve thinks she’ll look lovely decorated in faint red and purple love marks. Nancy must think so too, head angling to provide him more canvas space for his artwork.

Somewhere in between muttered curses, messy kisses, and multiple tugs on damp hair, the atmosphere shifts. Nancy’s desperate pleas electrify him, especially when her cunt squeezes around him. He’d never dream of denying her anything, not while she begs so sweetly to be filled.

Skilled hands slide down to palm the fat of her ass, spreading her further open so she can take more of him, all of him. He teases her a bit, fingers slowly skimming over her puckered hole, and she reels forward to kiss the smirk off his face, scolding him with a bite to his lower lip. The action is filthy but it’s so Steve, equally sinful as he is passionate.

And Nancy is eager to watch him fall apart beneath her. She rides him the way he’s always loved, grinding and bouncing and squeezing him as she meets each thrust. She’s warm and wet and snug around him, and she knows the damp curls on her pubic bone are driving him wild because his eyes are glued to the place they connect.

Steve groans, deep and husky, as eager fingers alternate from playing with the hair on his chest to scratching the skin of his back. She’s claiming him, branding him as hers, and the thought of forever belonging to Nancy Wheeler has his cock twitching.

He encourages it, a “Go ‘head baby, mark me,” that spurs her on. She’s never been rough with him before, all shy smiles and quiet gasps, and he loves this new side of her. There’s a sting when her nails rake over the muscles in his shoulders particularly hard, most likely payback for his earlier teasing, but he appreciates the mixture of pleasure and pain.

There’s a neediness to her voice when she demands that he tell her that he loves her, hips changing from a quick grind to a slow rock that causes Steve’s eyes to roll in the back of his head. He pants out, “I love you. I love you so much,” and every fiber of her being believes him.

And he wants to hear it too, not because he doesn’t believe it but because he’s still in awe that she does. “Say it,” he pleads, hips hammering upward while blunt nails clamp down on her hip bones. “Need to hear it again, baby. C’mon, tell me you love me.”

She babbles, “I love you, I love you, I love you” bouncing off the shower walls in time with the sharp snap of his thrusts. Her proclamation is loud and true and drives both of them to the edge. “Steve, I’m–shit…”

His teeth sink into his lip to keep him from screaming, nodding as he gruffly moans, “I know, Nance. I know, baby. Let’s do it together, yeah?”

Her whimpered, “Please” is the green light. One hand grips her skin while the other snakes between them, thumb brushing against the one sensitive spot where Steve wishes he had used his tongue first. The noises she makes are always beautiful, but the sounds he can pull when he gives extra attention to her clit are unmatched.

Steve presses against her, flicking his finger back and forth in a practiced manner and Nancy mewls, head bumping against his. Her thighs are weak and she’s practically panting against Steve’s mouth, but it’s the first time they’ve fucked in two years and she needs him to finish with her.

He spills into her the moment she clamps down onto him, riding out their climaxes while clinging to sweaty, fucked out bodies. Nancy finds fun in teasing him, rotating her hips in an agonizingly slow fashion because she knows he’s sensitive and she loves it when he whines. The tips of his fingers assault her ribs with quick tickles, drawing a squeal from her lips before they catch their breaths and kiss each other stupid.

They stay locked in each other’s embrace for as long as they want to, because there’s nowhere they need to go and no place they’d rather be.

It’s 12:03 a.m., and everything is perfect.

Atop the kitchen counter, Nancy sits comfortably in baggy blue sweatpants and Steve’s slightly worn Hawkins’ High basketball tee, glass of red wine held between her fingers. She sips gingerly, eyes never leaving the beaming boy in front of the stove who stirs a pot of macaroni and cheese, his own wine glass perched beside him.

Steve feels her eyes on him, peeking up from the pot to flash her a wink as she hides her giggles behind another sip of wine. Satisfied with the tenderness of the macaroni, he flicks off the flame, drains the water and mixes the cheese in, adding a splash of milk and a bit of butter to make it extra creamy the way Nancy likes.

A bowl is handed to her and she accepts the late night comfort meal with an enthused squeak before shoveling a spoonful into her mouth. She moans dramatically as it melts on her tongue, rewarding him with a cheesy kiss right on his sweet lips. Nancy loves knowing the blush across his cheeks is from her.

Steve stands between her legs, quietly rotating between gentle chews and quick sips, and just watches her. There’s no frown on her face, no worry lines etched into her forehead as she eats without a care in the world. She looks as at peace as he feels.

They stay in this position even long after they’ve finished eating, Steve between her thighs and Nancy perched on the counter, legs wrapped around his back to lock him in place. They talk and joke and laugh more than they ever have. Healing is easier when you’re surrounded by love.

And they kiss. They kiss long and soft and slow because they can. There’s no danger, no battle or impending doom threatening to keep them apart. Instead, there’s a future filled with sunshine and warmth, hopes and dreams, loving promises and new opportunities to learn and grow and build a beautiful life together.

Because after everything they’ve overcome, they deserve it.

#stancy fanfiction #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stancy #steve harrington x nancy wheeler #stranger things #steve x nancy #stancy endgame #pro stancy #steve harrington smut #stranger things netflix

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carrotcakecrumble · 4 months

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hi!! 🥰 3, 6, 8, 9, 10, 14, 16 and 20 for the FT asks? :D

3. What is your favourite episode and why?

One day I will list all of them and why because ALL OF THEM. But with a loaded pistol held to my head I’d have to say ‘your nuts roasting on an open fire’ (4?) 1. Because sorry but who came up with that title is it in the book???? i love it. 2. BECAUSE.. BECAUSE,., BACEUSE…BECAUSE E,, BECAUSE UHM. BECAUSE .. Them. Them spending their Christmas together. The TIE!!!!! Tim’s little shoulder giggle in bed. Hawk picking that bespectacled twink UP. ROCKETTES IN RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL BABY!!!!!. The cufflinks paralleled with the bracelet. That scene where they move the plot along during foreplay??? You know the ‘why can I never say no to you?’ Bit like UGH. Also!!! Tim’s family!!! Him so happy to be wearing the cufflinks at Christmas dinner always finishes me🧎🏻‍♀️ and then so much more but my memory exists only in 5 second segments and weird smells so i can’t think off the top of my head but. Basically just everything🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

6. What is your favourite parallel/reference in the show?

I don’t know about it being my favourite, I’d have to put a lot more thought in to admit something like that, but one that’s been on my mind recently that I haven’t seen talked about very much is the scene where Hawk tells Tim about his plan to move to Italy and asks Tim to keep it between them, and Tim throws out the most Chekhov’s gun of reply and goes ‘I’ll take it to my grave’ and he DOES. when Lucy comes to talk to him in the 80s, he knows their planning on moving to Italy. He knows Hawk’s plan for Italy. I think maybe at that point, he’s kind of certain that Lucy does too, they don’t need to say it outloud. idk. I just kind of. he kept his promise girls i

8. How did you discover Fellow Travelers? / 9. What is your favourite headcanon(s)? / 10. If the show had one more episode, what would it be about? (Answered in my first ask reply!!)

14. Do you have any unpopular opinions about Fellow Travelers?

I’ve seen a LOT of hate for Lucy’s big final speech in the 80s saying goodbye to Hawk, especially the ‘I thought, once he was dead, things might all be over and we could live like a normal couple’ (paraphrasing) and like I get it, she’s wishing for our special little lesbian lumberjacks death and like bitch omg. But also not at all bitch, that piece of writing was so BEAUTIFULLY truthful. We spend 8 episodes of everyone just lying and lying and lying. To themselves and everyone else around them. Then BOOM episode 8 comes and everything’s just finally laid arse cheeks out in the sun after DECADES and it’s so REFRESHING. Like yeah, ofc she wished Tim was just gone. I get it. She’s held onto this hope she never actually really believed in because the lying had clawed in so DEEP, that thinking there might be a way out of the mess they’ve curated for themselves in life without having to up-end everything good in it as well, was all she had. Telling herself Tim’s death would be the end of it, even though she knows about the other affairs (the gardener i think it is?? etc), was the last bit of hope she had, just how Hawk seems to have stuck his claws into the Italy dream and not let go of it the entire time, despite knowing he’s dug far too deep in for it to ever become a reality now. But then she meets Tim and realises this isn’t just the soldier who wrote the love letter or the criminal Hawk kept in his cabin, this is the man Hawk loves, and that’s never going to just be gone. This ruins everything. She can’t hold onto the lies or the hope anymore. And she tells Hawk all of this and it’s so raw and beautiful and brave and we BOO her???? no not on my watch girls. No more Lucy hate!!!!! I’m leading the march

16. If you could give the show an alternative ending, what would happen in your version?

It was all a bad dream Tim had from drinking some slightly gone off milk and uhm they actually get uhm married and live happily ever after in San Francisco attending aerobic classes <333

Ok no but, I really like the ending. I was STRESSED about how they were gonna pull it off satisfyingly with so many ends to tie up and not a lot of time left to do it but WAOW did they give us something beautiful !!!! I think maybe something I would have liked to see (not actually changed, but just purely selfishly bc i love them) is Tim and Hawk dancing at the gala 🥹 like i get why they didn’t, that would have been too much of a leap for Hawk’s character at that point in time but AGH how i would have fallen at Ron’s feet and kissed the ground that little man walks on if we had got to see that

20. If Fellow Travelers had a spin-off or continuation, what would you like it to be about?

i want a PREQUEL and i want to see Kenny and I want to see Bob and I want to see Lucy’s trip to Europe and I want to see more of that initial relationship between Hawk and Lucy’s brother (pardon me but what the shit is his name again? Kevin or something??) because listen there is something there, they only briefly go into it but i can literally see all scenes in my head, there’s so much potential!!! I need to go read some fics now

#hi!!! thank you <3 #fellow travelers #ft ask game

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deathsbestgirl · 1 year

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you know what’s funny. it took watching squeeze like five times this week for me to understand colton was trying to flirt & steal scully from mulder & the x files. like i know he made the “maybe you don’t have to be mrs. spooky anymore” right at the beginning and a few other throughout but like. the chemistry & connection were not there and i just never understand straight things (and mulder & scully are very not straight, hence my obsession). and that’s pretty much how i had my aha moment. it became clear that colton liked the idea of scully. whatever version of her he made up in his head. he had no understanding of her kindness & compassion, of her morals & ethics. and it makes me wonder what version of herself scully showed this man. it couldn’t have been the scully she is with mulder. which makes me think about how scully presents herself when she’s respected vs when she isn’t. (and makes me wonder if she used to play the game better & buddy up with the boys club before mulder & the x files. and again, there’s a reason csm chose her even if i still haven’t figured all that out yet. gonna title my writing on him “musings on the cigarette smoking man”) and scully knows what real respect is. the difference between someone trying to get in her pants or use her intelligence & expertise to boost themselves etc etc. how much sexism & bullshit did she have to put up with through military housing, medical school and the academy? and is one of the reasons she liked mulder so quickly was because he did (begrudgingly) respect her? not try to get in her pants? not take credit for her work and instead valued her & her work? treated her like an equal partner? he wasn’t perfect, the first case was actually pretty rough. but scully didn’t hesitate to tell him off & demand the answers she needed (and deserved) so she could do her job properly. and of course, she made sure to show him her compassion & honesty and worked hard to start building trust between them. mulder & scully both gave each other things very few others gave them before.

anyway. thanks colton for being the world’s biggest ass and highlighting what a great partner & investigator mulder is, letting scully solidify her choice & make her own path. fuck the escalator

#dana scully #mulder and scully #txf txt #squeeze #i am so sick of me #how did i have anything more to say #also lol @ escalator

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feralgodmothers · 2 years

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I have to say you’re all so strong for being able to sit through AH’s interview, because I just can’t bring myself to do it. I simply cannot stomach her anymore. I gave her my attention and listening ear when she was on the stand giving her hours-long testimony, and that is all I owe her. She had her platform to share her side of the story, and she had her spotlight to tell all. And now it’s done.

There wasn’t anything she was restrained from saying. There is no missing piece of the puzzle. All she has left now is cutting remarks, finger pointing, and entreaties for everyone to forget what they heard/saw and just believe her. She is trying so hard to play the martyr, but she’s too bitter and angry to pull it off. She is SEETHING that her victim got away, that he’s moved on from her/is healing, and that most of the world now sides with him. Over the last few months, her mask has slipped so many times, yet she’s still trying to convince people that ‘it’s not a mask, it’s my real face. That person you heard during the hours of audio recordings isn’t the real me. This recent, puritanical version of myself is the real me. I’m a *good* actress but I pinky swear that I’m not acting right now’. This is nothing but her giving an encore performance to an audience that missed her first show. And at this point, she’s so desperate for attention that she’ll spout off everything that comes to her mind at any given opportunity. Maybe Johnny will see it, maybe a few more people will believe her - but I think what matters to her above everything else - is that she’s the one who gets to do all the talking. She’d shout over him whenever he tried to speak in her presence, she used her testimony in court to stomp all over his, and now she’s using interviews to try and overshadow his meek expressions of gratitude to his fans. She was able to silence him for 6 years, and that was probably the best time she ever had in her life. She wants to regain control of the narrative, get herself back on top, and make him disappear. She said “Until my dying day, I will stand by my testimony” and I believe her on that one. She will never stop trying to shove her allegations under everyone’s nose and harangue people into taking her side again. She also told the truth in her interview with James Corden when she said that she doesn’t have any grace. She doesn’t care that she’s being desperate, she doesn’t care that she’s going over-the-top. She’s just willing to do whatever is necessary to claw her way back into having the upper hand. She is ruthless. She is a snarling, bloodthirsty wolf trying to parade around in sheep’s clothing, and I for one, am done with her. Lock her up in a cage, and throw away the key. It’s the best solution for everyone.

#johnny depp #anti amber heard

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harleiquina · 1 year

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The Lady of the Well

Some time ago, I got so angry at Disney remaking their movies (with a lot less heart than the originals) that I started to write my own versions.

So far I’ve just finished my Cinderella, but there are many others to come.

Keep in mind that English isn’t my native language and I tried to translate it as best as I could.

-I hope you are not trying to steal anything- said an authoritarian but warm and playful voice that echoed through all the gallery.

-No. ¡No! Of course not- the young girl rushed to answer nerviously since she hadn't noticed that the men in uniform was joking. -I... never... I didn't even touched anything- she was trying to find his eyes to make her case stronger but the mirrored mask prevented her from finding his gaze. Feeling observed without knowing exactly from where made the intimidation worse.

-Don't be afraid. I didn't mean it- she sighed loudly with relief -Still, it is odd that you are here and not in the Great Hall. Don't you want to enjoy the ball?-

-It's just... -she contained herself -I don't belong there-

-However, here you are. That implies that you were invited-

-You could say that. But if I have to be honest: I sneaked in with a big family that didn't noticed my presence-

The man laughed -If you wanted to be in the ball so badly, why are you wasting the night in the art gallery?-

-I just wanted to see the Palace and this was my only chance-

-I can give you an invitation, in case anybody asks-

-An invitation arrived home. It's just that I didn't came with them-

-Them?- he noticed a certain absence in the young girl's voice.

-My stepmother and her daughters-

Once again there was a fraction of bitterness on the way she spoke and that made him realize that something wasn't right. So he asked to confirm if his suspicions were true -Your family?-

-I guess- the girl noticed that she was letting her true feelings show so she tried to brush off the whole situation. She got closer to the next painting on the wall, the one that caught her attention more than the others -Those flowers are beautiful, do you know their name?-

-I'm sorry, no-

-It doesn't matter. Maybe some beauties should remain unnamed-

He smiled.

-Sir- one of the guards called, he was wearing the man's exact same outfit -Do you need us?-

-No, General. Thank you-

-Are you sure?- he wanted to check after examining the girl before him.

-I'm sure. You may all go- once the sentence ended other twenty men left their positions from all over the hall

- So many guards?- the guest was surprised after seeing them walk down the hallway.

-It's a palace. There is a guard every six feet or so- he answered amused. Many past events paraded in his mind and in all of them the excess of men was more than justified.

-Are you their captain?

-I guess- he smiled -What's your name?

-My name?

-There is nobody else here, right?-

-No- she was genuinely surprised and ashamed for the whole situation -I am not used to be called by my name-

-Then... how do people call you?-

-It depends on who's speaking. Kids call me "the lady of the well" because I always help them when they need to retreive water in buckets that are bigger than them. And I also hold them in my arms when they want to toss a coin to ask for a wish-

-Sounds nice. Alas there is no well here, so I cannot call you like that- both laughed.

-Those who were our servants still call me "little miss" "child" or "missy" when I find them in the market. It doesn't matter how hard I try I cannot convince them that I'm not 4 years old anymore- her voice now was filled with warmth and joy.

-I don't know you enough to call you like that. But now I'm curious about the servants that no longer work for you. Are they very old?

-Not that much- she started pacing between the statues at the center of the room. She just realized the mess she got herself into by mentioning that but it was too late. She took a deep breath and fought the tears that started swelling in her eyes at the memory of her last nickname -Cinderella, that's the name my stepmother and her daughters use to call me. I'm always covered in cinder from the fire they make me keep always alive... so I can cook for them, prepare their baths and carry around tje house in winter to keep the whole house warm -a single tear escaped from her eyes all the way down her cheek but she caught it before it could hit the floor -I even have to do it in Summer, because those are the Lady's orders-

-What about the servants?

-There is none. Just me...- she dried her tears again, this time with a handkerchief he offered her -...Marielle-

-Marielle?- he was surprised -Then I believe that some beauties should be named- the attempt to make her feel better seemed to work

-Don't you have something better to do than taking care of a stranger's feelings?-

-Honestly? No. I do not like parties and this kind even less-

-What kind?-

-The ones to find a girlfriend for the prince- je sat down in a couch nearby and asked her to join him -That's why we are all dressed the same: women just try to expose themselves, or their daughters, to him. The night won't be long enough if he had to dance with all of them-

-So none of you say who is the prince, you hear them, get to know them and then give a report of who is the most adequate, right?-

-Exactly-

-I can't imagine how tedious it might be to deal with that-

-We take turns, another good reason to have so many guards nearby- she laughed -Of course, whoever tries to get any kind of advantage for themselves is removed. Usually will end up guarding the stables or the park-

-Still, it might be tough on them. Who says that a soldier can't fall in love with one of the girls?

-In that case they should say the truth-

-Has it happened already?

-The night is still young-

-If it's not a bother to you... may I ask you a question?- he nodded -Why a ball? I thought that the prince is meant to marry another kingdom's princess to strenghten commercial relationships, increase the lands and such-

-You are very smart, Marielle- she couldn't help blushing after hearing her name -Yes, that would be the most sensible and traditional way, so to speak. But, believe it or not, prince Jean has been rejected by many kingdoms both close and far away-

-Rejected?

-Yes, you'll see: the prince is blind- he said while removing his mask so she could see his clouded eyes -That's why the other kings don't want to take a chance on having grandkids with the same weakness- there was no reaction from the girl -Please don't pity me. I've had enough of that up until now. Speak to me, it is still me-

-It's just... I don't understand. You are the prince?- she stood up and started to nerviously pace.

-Yes-

-Don't lie to me-

-I know that I said that some soldiers might take advantage but I did so thinking I've already earned your trust... that I could speak freely with you-

-But... what are you doing here? The ball is in the other wing!-

-Have you noticed that there's a slight inbalance in your walking? As if one of the legs was a few milimeters shorter than the other-

-I broke a leg when I was thirteen. It didn't heal well-

-You used to climb trees?

-No-

-A horseback riding accident then?

-No-

-Maybe you were running around the hallways in your home?

-I will answer only if you give me a good reason why you are wasting your time with me instead of enjoying your party-

-I am not wasting my time, but go ahead-

-I didn't clean the main dinning room window well enough and my stepmother punished me for that- she could feel the indignation on his silence so se rushed to add -She never did it again. She realized that I couldn't do much with a broken bone-

-You were a child-

-Which means that it happened a long time ago and it's not worth remembering it-

-Did she continued to hit you? Does she do it now?-

-That is not important. I already answered your question. Now answer mine-

His frustration became evident however he always kept his word. In first place, I'm exhausted of hearing "I am the perfect woman to become queen because..." and, in second place, General Batiste, the man that spoke to me a while ago, told me that there was a girl in a rather peculiar dress walking around the hallways. He didn't know if she was lost or if she had something else in mind. In other words, you spiked my curiosity- Marielle sat down again -Why your dress caught the good General's attention?-

-Probably because it's old... it was my mother's so it is probably way over twenty years old-

-A heirloom?-

-It's all I've got left of her. My stepmother got rid of everything else- she stopped so he couldn't notice her voice cracking -It was in a forgotten chest on the attic, that's why moths got it. I took some scraps of an old dress of mine, one made of silk and pink tulle that I used as a child, with that I made flowers to patch up the holes- she left one of the flowers that hanged from her sleeve on his hand so he could feel them -I used beads from my stepsisters' many broken necklaces to make the center of the flowers-

-I admire your skill and I am certain that you look beautiful. Even so I cannot stop feeling pity over your situation, you should not live like that-

-If I do not pity you for your blindness, you shouldn't pity me either-

-That's fair. However I would like to help you-

-Nobody can-

-I can have them arrested-

-Or you could marry one of my stepsisters and take all of them away from here-

-I thought we were friends, now you want me to suffer?- he laughed.

-They would never hurt you-

-And why they do hurt you?

-I don't know, I stopped asking myself about it a long time ago. I guess I'm an easy target-

-You just have to ask and I can make my guards drag them to the dungeons-

-No, please, no. They will hate me more if I do it-

-They will never come out. You would be safe-

-My father wouldn't approve-

-Oh, he lives with you? And lets them treat you like that?

-No, he died about 17 years ago. But if he chose to marry my stepmother, there had to be a good reason why-

-Well, for what it's worth... if it wasn't for your situation, we would've never met-

-That's true-

-Who was your father? Because if you all still live in the same house there might be a chance that he was a friend or aquaitance of mine-

-Yes, my father worked as an administrator for the King. George Reinauld-

-I can't say that I know the name, as a child I had nothing to do on my father's bussiness. However I can tell you that I know every inch of this palace thanks to the many hits and falls I had during my childhood. That's why I always have so many guards around me, my mother never where could I ever need inmmediate assistance-

The clock started to announce midnight just like the bells on the closest cathedral.

-Oh, no- Marielle worried -It's late-

-What are you talking about?-

-The ball ends at midnight, I wasn't expecting to stay for long. I won't be able to arrive before them- explained halfway to the exit.

-Wait, please-

-I can't-

-Yes you can, stop- he was next to her and held her arm -Batiste! -the man and a companion appeared almost magically, ready to receive orders -Make one of our coaches take her home and ask for the ball to be extended. Would an hour be enough?-

-Yes, yes it'll be enough. Thank you!- the young girl kissed his cheek and started to run following the soldier guiding her.

-Don't look at me like that and do as I said- he ordered again while hiding a smile from his General's complicit gaze.

Everybody in the Great Hall rejoiced after finding out that the very Prince asked for the party to continue. The ladies thought that they still had a chance to get him because if he did found someone then there was no need to go on with the ball; the men just focused on the food and wine still left to enjoy. Little they knew that the prince never joined them again for the rest of the night.

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-Good morning, son- the King said when he saw him in the garden -I see that you've had a good time. You are still using yesterday's clothes. Is that why you asked for the party to continue?-

-Honestly, father, I barely was in the ball-

-You are joking, right? You know fair well why we did it and why it was necessary for you to be there-

-I know, I know. But you would've not lasted that long in my shoes either-

-It couldn't be that bad to dance with so many beautiful young girls-

-Most of them couldn't stop talking about their virtues and others thought that I was a soldier and tried to bribe me so I could pinpoint the real prince. And lets not mention a few missteps I gave transforming them into drunk sailors. I even think that I might've learned new curse words thanks to them- the King couldn't hold his laughter -However, I wasn't alone either. All the time I was away I spent it with one of the guests that was snooping on the Art Gallery. We talked. She is very nice. I told her who I am, the reason for the ball and, aside from a brief moment of incredulity, she didn't even blink-

-Well, maybe the ball wasn't such a bad idea. And who is this misterious girl?-

-Marielle- he felt his heart lighting up by saying her name -Marielle Reinauld, daughter of George Reinauld- he added in a serious tone to try and hide his happiness.

-George Reinauld, sounds familiar, ah, yes! Now I remember him. A good man, honest and smart. Such a pity that he died-

-What do you know about his wife?

-I didn't have the chance to meet her, she died when he started to work for me-

-I mean his second wife-

-All I know is that your mom didn't liked her. I cannot say much, I never met her-

-Marielle told me about the mistreatments she got from her. She's basically a servant since she was twelve-

-Why? That family has enough money to live a comfortable life for at least three more generations-

-I do not know. But I'm worried. I need to know that she's fine-

-We'll send someone to her house-

-Yes... but no. First I need someone to make sure that she's fine. She told me that she came to the ball hiding from her stepmother, if all the sudden someone from the palace shows up at her door, she'll know-

-What does it matter if the girl marries you? She'll be safe in the palace-

-If she accepts me-

-Why wouldn't she?-

-The fact that we had a conversation doesn't mean she will-

-But it is a good start-

-Father, please... I just want to be sure that she is fine-

-Fine. I'll send someone to observe the house-

It was late in the evening when the messenger came back with his report. He didn't see anybody resembling a maid, just the mother and her two daughters would come and go from the rooms he could see through the windows.

Without second thoughts, the prince called his General and asked him to gather a few men to go to Reinauld's house.

Once there, the Lady of the house thought that good news were coming but after seeing the soldiers getting into her home to search the rooms her face changed completely. Her yells stopped once the King and his son walked through the door.

-Your Majesties!- the well dressed and old woman celebrated them with fake cheer -To what do I owe the honor of your visit?

-We have been told about a girl missing from your house- answered General Batiste, hiding from any sight the prince behind him.

-A girl? Missing? Nonsense! I live with my daughters here, nobody else. They are not here because they left to visit a friend, countess Montreaux. These girls, bless them, they want to keep on talking about the wonderful ball-

-How many daughters do you have?- asked Jean coldly with his face fix in the window that showed the street.

-Two: Fleur y Claire-

-And what about Marielle?-

-I'm sorry?- despite her surprise, it was rather clear that she knew of whom he was talking about-

-Your stepdaughter, Marielle-

-Mar... ah, yes... she left with her father, when he left us-

-George Reinauld worked for me. At the time od his death I sent my condolences and a medallion as a token of appreciation after so many years of service to his country- the King seemed offended after the woman's lame attempt to get rid of the situation.

-Fine, I was lying... I should've take her to a convent, poor thing, her mind wasn't quite right. She's the family's greatest shame-

-She seemed fine last night- the prince provoked her .

-Last night?- a slight biterness took over the woman's voice.

-She went to the ball- silence -we talked. Don't worry, she didn't dare to say much about you... but her story didn't need many words to be understood-

-As I said, she had issues-

-Had?- he turned towards the woman for the very first time but before he could walk to her one of the soldiers called Batiste from the kitchen. The General helped him get down the stairs that would lead them to him.

At the moment he crossed the door he could tell that Marielle spent most of her time in there. The whole place smelled like her, or viceversa, with a faint smell of oregano and other spices mixed with the scent of flour and salt.

-What did you find, soldier?-

-The fire died many hours ago but it would seem that something was burned before- Batiste reached to get the piece of burnt cloth the soldier was giving him

-This looks like a silk flower- said the General so everybody could listen.

-You burned her dress?- even though he knew the kind of person she was, he couldn't help but feel a stab on his heart for witnessing such heinous act.

-She deserved it, for disobeying-

-You keep on talking in past time- a shadow appeared in his thoughts -Where is she?- he tried to sound harsh and menacing but his coice cracked before he could finish his question.

-Where she belongs-

The prince couldn't breathe anymore and he was shaking enough that his friend and General guided him by the shoulders outside, to the backyard where there was a chicken coup and an orchard.

-Batiste, please, make your men search every inch of this property. Inside and out. We must find her-

-Yes, sir- he retired to communicate his orders to his men.

-Son, are you alright?- the King's voice came from behind and he felt his hand on his shoulder.

-What can you see from here? How is the house and it's surroundings?

-Well, it's a beautiful house... pity it didn't have the propper maintenance. It has three stories aside from the attic and the basement with the kitchen. Stone facade, big windows, balconies... is almost as big as our summer house in the beach, do you remember it?- there was no answer, so he continued with his description -I can see that some of the roof tiles fell off and there's a hole getting bigger and bigger in the attic. There are even doves coming out of it!- he saw his son still lost in his thoughts -The orchard is really nice, the pumpkins are about to be harvested. There are tomato plants and chard... I think... yes, those are onions. Its a very good job, madmoiselle Marielle has a very good green hand-

-What else?- asked Jean.

-There's a chicken coup, I can count three chickens and a rooster. They are pecking the floor looking for food-

-Probably she had to feed them in the morning- added the Prince with biterness -I hear voices afar, is there anybody else aside from the soldiers?-

-There are some kids playing on a hill, they are near a well. I hope they don't try to climb it, they might fall-

-The well- remembered Jean -She helps kids to get water from it and to toss coins when asking wishes-

Batiste came out of the house.

-We searched everywhere, there is not a trace. I'm sorry-

-General, lets go to that hill, to the well- his heart started pounding he was certain they would find her there. Batiste checked the orders with the king, he nodded.

The men were carrying torches, the night already arrived and regardless how much they tried to illuminate the well, they couldn't see anything.

A young soldier asked his friends to hold him while he tried to get as far as he could inside the well to try and see anything. But he wasn't counting his ticklish nature and his friends touch made him toss the torch to the water. He shrieked when, before the fire was extinguished, he was able to see a face in the water and what seemed to be a white dress floating.

Without confirming their orders, the soldiers started to dig with whatever they had available at the time. The neighbours got closer and offered their help and tools. With the effort of 50 people, they were able to dig to the bottom of the well. The water started to rise and it made it near impossible to keep on digging, but the thought of miss Reynauld captive in it helped them fight off the elements and the tiredness.

Todos conocían a Marielle, la niña que siempre tenía una sonrisa en los labios a pesar de tener una vida dura junto a su madrastra. Aquella que ayudaba a quienes lo necesitaban y se preocupaba por cada uno como si fuera de la familia.

A couple of women delivered bebrages to the workers and every now and then bursted in tears worried for the fate of the girl they loved so much.

-Do you know her?- asked the prince when he felt them near him.

-Since her birth, Your Highness. She was such a good child- answered one wiping her tears with hee sleeve.

-She was like a daughter to us. She even carried provisions in her sleigh for us during a winter we fell sick. She was a little girl, she was 10! Y she took care of us without any kind of binding obligation to us... a couple of peasants way below her- added the second one.

-And when her stepmother started to mistreat her we wanted to help her... but the Lady threatened us with jail. We were very scared, Your Highness... we should've done something... look where we are now!- the first woman reproached herself.

Every story the prince heard pierced his soul, but a victory scream from one of the men brought some hope back into him.

Everybody approached his location and rushed to help him rescue the girl from the water. Carefully, three of them took her out to were the King was standing next to his son. The early morning lights allowed them to see the young girl unconscious, pale, soaking wet and with some bruises on her face and arms.

Many soldiers improvised a bed with their capes on the grass so she could rest. The town's doctor was also there and jumped into action to try and find her vitals.

-They are too weak, but they are still there- everybody sighed in relief as a carriage got closee to them.

-Ladies- Jean called the women that spoke wirt him earlier -We will take her to the palace. Could you watch over her?-

-Of course, Your Highness! We'll do it with pleasure, the poor child needs love an care. We will give it to her- answered the first one while Marielle was being carried to the carriage. The doctor also climbed in it followed by the two women.

-Batiste- he called his General -Lets go back to the house. Father, go back to the palace and make sure that the doctor has everything he needs-

-I'll call the royal doctors as well, I assure you son that everything will be alright-

-I hope so- he said his goodbyes before his friend helped him to return to the Reinauld's family house.

-Your Majesty!- the screeching voices of the Lady's daughters pierced his ears -Such a pleasure to see you here!- both spoke at the same time and that was even more annoying.

-Has your mother told you the reason for my visit?-

-Yes- all courtesy was gone and their voices were now poisonous.

-I must inform you that we have found your stepsister, miss Marielle Reinauld- nothing but silence -She was in the bottom of the well abpve the hill-

-As I said, Your Highness, her mind wasn't in great shape. She probably fell or threw herself chasing a toad... she always got those nasty creatures to torment my girls, wasn't that so?- the homeowner intervened looking for her daughters approval.

-She is still alive-

-What? I mean... it is good news but I'm less than excited to see her again after everything that happened.

-Don't worry, you won't. Batiste, arrest the lady for attempted murder-

-As you say, Your Highness-

-Don't you dare to touch me! I did nothing.... it was them, they threw her down the well like a broken plate-

-Mom!- Claire got offended.

-We only threw her because you told us to!- added Fleur.

-Fine, take the three of them- Jean ordered without thinking it twice.

The soldiers tried to be polite with them showing them the way but the women refused to follow them, so they had to grab and drag them against their will. Their indignation was silenced by the yelling of their neighbours, still covered in mud, that went to the house to see the pathetic scene.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Many weeks passed until Marielle was able to get up from the comfortable bed with silk sheets. Her good neighbours Carlotta and Vivianne helped her to eat, dress and wash herself the whole time. She didn't liked to be pampered with so much devotion, but she also knew that she couldn't do any of that alone.

Now it was a wonderful spring morning and she wanted to walk around the garden before goinf back home.

She found the kings having breakfast in a gazebo. After many pleas, she joined them.

-I am so glad that you are alright- started the Queen -Do you have everything you need? What about the dresses? Should we fix them in anyway?- she observed that Marielle had folded the cuffs since they were too long.

-No, Your Highness. It's not worth it. I have mine at home. I'm not planning on keeping any of these, they are just a loan-

-My girl! There's no need to return anything, these are gifts- said the King.

-I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantege of you. You did enough for me-

-And we would do it again- reassured the Queen -After hearing your neighbours' testimonies and your stepfamily's nonsense, I can't stop thinking that I should've followed my instincts that time and take you away from that house as soon as your father died. I always knew that that woman wasn't good news, but he was in love... I guess-

-Lets not speak more about the past, especially now that we know there are brighter days ahead. What are your plans, Marielle, now that you're free?- the king asked.

-I never made plans-

-And what would you like to do? Now you're not just the Lady and homeowner of the Reinauld House, you also possess your father's fortune.

-I have to do something for those who rescued me, both soldiers and civilians... but I do not know yet what it could be-

-That's a good start and we will support you in anything you might need- smiled the Queen while lovingly tapping her arm.

-There is no need, as I said, I don't want to take advantage of your generosity-

-You'll be the first one- laughed the King -Now I see why you caused such a good impression in Jean-

Marielle blushed, and that wasn't a secret for the other two.

-Have you talked to him? I think he's at the fountain. He enjoys the sound of water moving and the birds that sing over there.

-The Prince visited me many times and showed me the other pieces of art in the palace. He says he enjoys how I describe them- she smiled to herself -I hope I was a good friend to him-

-Why do you speak as if you are about to leave?- asked the Queen.

-Well, the doctirs told me that I am fully recovered. I must return home. I'm sure there's a lot to clean- she added laughing.

-Well, that's a shame... you know what I mean. All of us enjoy your company and it's sad to see you go away-

-I completely understand, don't worry. I know that you'll never wish any kind of evil upon me- smiled Marielle.

-Have you told Jean already?- asked the King.

-Well, the Prince knows how I think... but no, I haven't told him yet-

-You should, as we told you, he's at the fountain-

- Now?

-It is better to rip the bandage quickly- his comment was shut off by a hard stomp from his wife.

-If I may, Your Highnesses- Marielle stood up hiding her desire to laugh at the Queen's reaction.

As she was told, the prince was sitting in the grass under a tree's shadow, with his eyes closed focused on all the sounds around him. His face, just like everything near him, transmitted peace and warmth.

-Marielle- he called her softly while opening his eyes.

-I'll never be able to surprise you- she chuckled while helping him to stand up.

-You are a surprised by yoursel- he presented his arm to invite her to walk with him. She accepted.

-Why didn't you had breakfast with your parents?-

-I've been awake for hours. I had breakfast a lot earlier-

-Oh, did you have a rough night?-

-You could say that. Every day that goes by is a day closer to the day you'll leave- Marielle felt a strong pinch on her stomach -I know that you will... there is nothing to stop you-

-I'll visit you often, if you ask me to-

-You musn't base your actions in what I want but in what you want. I've enjoyed the hours that we spent together but if this were, in anyway, a duty or an obligation you set yourself as a payment for helping your escape, I do not pretend to let you continue with them-

-I would never think in that way. In any casa it's me who's embarrassed. I shared the darkest moments of my life with a complete stranger and because of that I dragged you with me. My apologies, Your Highness, if you've felt in the obligation to assit me in any way-

He smiled -Call me Jean, I've told you to do it before-

-I can't, it's disrespectful-

-I call you Marielle-

-I am a nobody-

-Don't say that- the prince noticed that his voice turned too solemn so he decided to switch the conversation tone -I have noticed something in the last couple of days: I've never danced with you-

-Maybe in the next ball-

-Or maybe now- he could feel Marielle's stranged look while he moved, still holding her hand, making her twirl to position her in the starting pose for a waltz. Jean carefully placed his hand on the center of her back while still holding her right hand. He felt foolish for a second but his worry disappeared once he felt Marielle's delicate touch on his left shoulder. She giggled and both started to dance in the grass. There, in each other's arms, they didn't needed music -There's no need for you to say anything, I know you'll be leaving tomorrow- he whispered in her ear.

-I'm sorry, I can't stay here any longer. I am recovered, I have no excuse to stay-

-I understand-

-Won't you ask me to stay?- there was a faint dissapointment tone in her voice.

-I would never be selfish enough to impose my wishes to yours- he could feel her beating heart with his fingertips and his own heart was hammering in his ears. They seemed to be synchronized and both got louder once they, unconsciously got even closer to each other -You are free- they stopped but didn't separate from the embrace.

-I no longer know what that means. It's been a long time-

-More reasons then to enjoy your freedom. You can do as you wish- a delicated kiss on his lips took him by surprise. He couldn't deny that he imagined this moment hundreds of times, but he never expected this reaction coming from her. Shyness turned into certainty and with it passion arrived. Jean didn't fight back the need to lose himself in her scent and and the warmth that came from Marielle's body. For the first time in so many years he forgot his blindness and the pain it caused him. Nothing else mattered, only that moment -Marielle- he whispered when everything was over -Don't hurt me like this-

-That's not my intention-

-You have a good heart, but pity and compassion can lead to even major cruelties if they are not measured-

-I love you- she held him tight and pressed her forehead to his -Jean, I love you-

-Still hurts seeing you escaping from an iron cage to get into a golden one-

-At least I'll have company-

-Quite a partner- he sighed -You deserve someone who can enjoy your smile, the blush on your cheeks and your eyes full of love-

-No- she caressed his face -You've asked me not to feel pity upon you, then why can you speak like this?-

-Because I want you to have a good life, even if it's not with me. Get out to the world, explore the cities, meet people. Do not waste a single more minute locked down in a house... or a palace-

-I'm not going anywhere unless you come with me-

-Marielle...- he begged.

-Jean, do you love me?- her voice was warm but there was still a shadow of uncertainty in it.

-Nobody in this world, in an individual or collective way, has loved any other person as much as I love you-

-Then, respect my decisions. I'll stay with you. Not out of compassion, not as appreciation for having saved me... but because you are a good man: you've trusted me when you didn't have to, any other person would've vanished me from the ball for snooping around where I shouldn't be. You took care of me and accompanied me without expecting anything in return. You've became the reason why I started to laugh again, you gave me hope: I never thought about the future before and now all I want is to be with you every day, every night, with children or without them, in the throne room or in a farm away from everything, I don't care as long as we are together. Please, don't ask me to be alone again-

-I'll never do that-

-So, do you accept me?

The only answer she got was a brief smile before a kiss that awoke in her chest the heat of a thousand suns. Jean held her tight and started to spin on himself. They laughed together and some tears were still running down. Their embrace was so strong that it was impossible determin where one ended and the other began. They were one. They were happy. They were everything they ever dreamt of.

#working #cinderella #retelling #fairytale #reimagined #aspiring author #my writing #writing #does this even count as a fairytale? it doesn't have fairies... or magic #beeing bored watching Disney's remakes might be good for the creative mind #will I ever finish my own Beauty and the Beast? only time will tell #tw physical abuse #tw physical violence #harleiquina's retellings #my art #english is not my native language and I translated everything on my phone while if there are any kind of mistakes that's why

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nadja-antipaxos · 1 year

Text

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

Title: under the mistletoe

**Fandom: **Ted Lasso

**Pairing: **Ted Lasso x OFC

Summary: Ted catches a crush one of Rebecca's famous friends, so Rebecca invites her to a Christmas party.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Swearing, drinking alcohol, kissing

Word Count: 3,501

AO3

Ted settles down in his seat at the Garrick Theatre. He isn’t really sure how people are expected to dress for professional theatre anymore. He sees some people dressed to the nines and others in jeans. He’s glad he went with his trusty khakis. Beard sits down next to him as he takes in the thrum of a live audience.

“Mighty nice of Rebecca to let us tag along.”

“Yeah. Beats staying at home. Have you heard of this show?”

“No. Can’t say I have. Going in blind like those three mice.”

Rebecca and Keeley shuffle in.

“Ted! Beard! Thank you for coming.” Rebecca sits down next to Ted.

“Thank you for the invite.” Ted smiles.

The lights flicker signaling for everyone to quiet down. Ted hadn’t really looked into the show since the invite was so last minute. The only thing the playbill tells him is the title, so he’s excited to see what this is about. A blonde woman sits by herself at a table with a letter in her hand. Their seats are excellent because Ted can see the tears rolling down her face. She laments about someone leaving her and how she felt blindsided. The actress continues to move across the stage removing her wedding ring and wishing she had another chance to see why her husband left her. She has a beautiful singing voice. It sounds familiar, but he knows he’s never seen her before. The lights dim and suddenly a man rushes out on the stage. The music changes completely to something more upbeat with hints of The Fiddler on the Roof (which makes sense when the man explains how dating this woman will hurt his Jewish mother). He’s very handsome with dark hair and green eyes. Full of charisma. Ted can see why they ended up together.

As the story goes on, Ted realizes they’re telling their stories from two different times. She’s the end to beginning and he’s beginning to end. It’s a fascinating way to tell a story and quite frankly, relationships do feel mixed up like that. Even though both of them are very talented, there’s just something captivating about the woman with her big blue eyes and small stature. Her voice is strong for being so tiny. It almost knocks him back when she roars at her husband for abandoning her on her birthday. Her love tries to cheer her up and give her some hope with a story about a tailor who gets to redo his entire life care of a magical clock. Her letter about her time away is very funny and the actress is absolutely enchanting when she details sharing a dressing room with a snake and missing Vietnamese food while stuck in Ohio. The first act ends with them singing onstage together and getting married.

Ted feels a hand on his shoulder at intermission.

“Oh, Ted. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was about a breakup.” Rebecca frowns.

Ted shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’m not a famous author and Michelle’s not an up-and-coming actress. As far as I know.” He chuckles. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. It rings familiar, but I’m glad Rupert doesn’t have any creative talents or he would’ve been insufferable. You sure you’re okay, Ted?”

Ted nods. Keeley stands up so she can join the conversation.

“This actress, yeah? I’ve never seen her before, but she’s brilliant.”

“Great voice.” Beard turns towards them. He leans forward. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ted nods. “I never got a ‘Dear John’ letter, well, I ‘spose it’d be ‘Dear Ted’.”

Beard rests his hand under his chin knowing better than to press his oldest friend.

The show starts up again and apparently, after the wedding, the husband develops a wandering eye. He ends up being very successful while she struggles to make it as an actress. His shadow grows bigger and bigger while she shrinks into herself causing a lot of hatred to build up between them. She wants to share in his success but feels like a prop. He just wants his muse back.

Before, he was deflecting a bit, but now Ted can confidently say this story is nothing like his marriage. Yes, he and Michelle had problems, but he’s never felt anywhere near this level of bitterness towards her. Their marriage just ran its course to its natural end. The actor gives a wonderfully tortured performance about how it pains him to be unfaithful, but he’s so resentful towards his wife he feels he has no other choice. The show ends with a gorgeous song where he sings goodbye to her and leaves the letter while she’s over the moon about their first date fantasizing about their life together. Ted gets to his feet immediately clapping his hands together. It really was a fantastic show.

“So, what’s next, Boss?” Ted asks.

Rebecca looks down at her phone for a moment waiting for something. She lifts a finger.

“Oh! Good! Come with me.”

Ted follows Rebecca backstage. He knows money opens a lot of doors, but he hadn’t expected this. He watches as Rebecca congratulates the actor on his show. The man (who goes by Jeremy) is very pleasant and gracious, but their conversation gets cut short at the sight of his wife and daughter.

“Becca!” The actress yells out before throwing her arms in the air. She’s actually American like her character.

“Natalie!” Rebecca smiles. “You blonde vision.”

“Ha ha.” The woman takes off the wig revealing dark brown hair. “Did you like the show?”

“Your West End debut was brilliant.” Rebecca gives her a hug before looking back at her friends. “This is Keeley Jones. Ted Lasso. And Beard. Everyone, this is Natalie Warren.”

“Thank you so much for coming.” Natalie waves.

“Absolutely. Quite a set of pipes you’ve got there.” Keeley smiles. “I’ve dated a Jamie that was quite a shit.”

“Oh, thank you.” Natalie flashes a smile so bright it makes Ted a little woozy. “Oh, fuck him then. You’re way better than that.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” Keeley gives Natalie a high five before pulling her into a hug.“Um, Rebecca, where have you been keeping this gem?”

“She’s usually in the States acting her little arse off and heading up the US branch of Letters to Santa.” Rebecca shrugs and Natalie mimics her.

Her eyes are deep blue like sapphires sparkling under the lights. Ted got so caught up in the story he didn’t realize just how pretty she is. High cheekbones and that smile. He’s never been starstruck before, but now is a good a time as any.

“That Jamie fella shoulda been a lot nicer to you.” Ted stuffs his hands in his pockets feeling too aware of his hands.

“Cathy would agree.” Natalie nods. “Oh, you’re the coach for Rebecca’s team, right?”

“Club,” Rebecca whispers.

Natalie rolls her eyes and looks back at Ted.

“Yes, I am, ma’am.” Ted winks. Wait, why did he wink? That was stupid.

“He rhymes.” Natalie raises her eyebrows.

“Don’t get him started.” Rebecca rolls her eyes.

“So your actual name is Beard?” Natalie turns to face him.

“Yes.” Beard nods and steps closer to her.

“Was that like crazy stressful when you were a kid and couldn’t grow facial hair?”

“You have no idea.” His brown eyes narrow.

“Were you ever scared you couldn’t live up to the name?” She wiggles her eyebrows in a way that makes Ted chuckle.

“Never.”

“Beard’s fearless.” Ted laughs. Suddenly, it hits him like a bus on Regina George. “Princess Cleo!”

Keeley, Beard, and Rebecca stare at him like he might be having a stroke, but Natalie just smiles.

“You’re in the movies about the royal foxes. You’re Princess Cleo.”

“Yes, I am!”

“My son Henry loves ‘em.”

“Is Henry back in the States?”

“Yeah. Kansas.”

“If you’re cool with it, I could say hi?”

Ted jiggles his head doing the math. It’s only 4 pm over there.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Nope.”

He calls Michelle who looks surprised at the call and the fact it’s FaceTime.

“Hey, Michelle. Sorry. I have a little something for Henry. Is he around?”

“Uh, yeah. Henry! It’s your dad!” Michelle hands over the phone and Henry appears on the screen.

“Hey, buddy. I just saw a musical and I think you know this little lady. Close your eyes.” Ted smiles. Natalie pops her head over his shoulder and Ted ignores the tingle from her breath on his neck.

“Greetings and good morrow, Henry of Kansas.” Natalie grins.

“Princess Cleo?” Henry’s eyes pop open. “Dad, that’s Princess Cleo!”

“I know, big guy. Her real name is Natalie and she’s a stupendous actress.”

“Wow. Mom, that’s Princess Cleo!”

“Hi!” Michelle comes back on screen. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Is the next Royal Foxes coming out soon?”

“This summer. You gonna go see it?” Natalie asks.

“Yeah! I hope the King finds out she’s the archer.”

“I’m sworn to secrecy. You’ll just have to see. Now, do you remember this?” Natalie begins to sing the big song and snaps her fingers. She does a kick step and Henry mirrors her while singing along. He’s absolutely blown away. Ted’s touched at how kind she’s being to his boy. She must get this a lot.

“…So don’t stop!” Henry throws his arms out and tries to copy her spin.

“You’re amazing!” Natalie claps.”Listen, Henry, can I sign a picture for you and have your dad give it to you?”

“That would be so cool!! Thank you!” Henry bounces up and down.

“Awesome! It was really fun meeting you, Henry.” She gives him a small wave.

“You too, Princess Cleo.” Henry waves back wildly.

“She said her name was Natalie.” Michelle laughs.

“I wish I was as cool as Princess Cleo.” Natalie smiles.

“I don’t wanna keep any more of Miss Natalie’s time, so I’ll talk to you later, big guy, okay?”

“Bye, Dad! Bye Princess—Natalie. Goodbye!”

“Bye, Henry!”

Ted hangs up and puts his phone back in his pocket.

“You just made me Father of the Year right there. Thank you.”

“Oh, sure. Kids are the best fans.”

“Who are the worst?”

“Really old white men. They call me sweetie and pinch me.”

“Sounds like a real nightmare.” Ted shudders.

Before Natalie can answer, Rebecca steps between them.

“You’re a big star, Nat, so I’m certain you’re very busy.”

“Oh, yeah. Steaming my voice and watching Bake Off. More like you’re busy and you wanna go.”

Rebecca only smirks and flags down a tech person outside the dressing room.

“Pile in for a photo everyone and we’ll head out.”

Natalie and Keeley move to the center since they’re the same height. Rebecca goes on her other side. Ted and Beard flank them at the ends.

After the few photos, Rebecca hugs Natalie.

“You were wonderful, darling.” She kisses her cheek.

“Thank you, big sis.” Natalie steps back. “Ted…”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’ll give Rebecca the photo for Henry.”

“Thank you, truly.”

“Have a good night, you three. Thank you again for seeing the show. Nice meeting you!”

Ted gives her a small wave before walking out of her dressing room. His cheeks feel hot and he’s a little lightheaded. He isn’t too sure why, but it feels exhilarating.

Almost a week later, Ted arrives at Rebecca’s house with Beard for a Christmas party in a hunter green sweater and his only Santa hat. It contrasts greatly with the button-up swirling in red and green Beard wears. He wasn’t sure what to bring since Rebecca is such a great hostess, so he brings a vegetable platter and Beard has a bottle of whisky. Rebecca looks absolutely stunning in a red jumpsuit with gold glittery accents that flatters her impressive figure. Roy, Keeley, and Nate are already there. Keeley has a green frilly dress on and Roy wears his usual black leather jacket and black jeans. Nate keeps things very business with a burgundy sweater vest.

“Shit.” A voice yelps from the hall.

Ted pops his head around to see Natalie Warren tangled up in her black wool coat and the coat tree.

“Lemme help ya.” Ted zips over to her.

“I have no fucking idea how this happened. Jesus, what a mess.”

“Here ya go.” His finger lifts the fabric free.

“Thank you.”

Her burgundy velvet dress swings with every step she makes. It matches perfectly with her cranberry lipstick. She looks striking. The party starts off with awkward chatting especially since everyone knows each other so well and Natalie only really knows Rebecca. She wasn’t able to make the party with all the famous friends because she had a show, so she was invited as a special guest to the AFC Richmond party. She clutches her mulled wine and politely smiles as Nate tells her about his new game plan for after the holidays. Ted catches her eye, remembering she didn’t seem very enthusiastic about football. She gives him a slight nod causing Keeley and Rebecca to exchange a look.

“We should play a game.” Rebecca announces. “But don’t worry there’s drinking. It’s trivia with a little bit of running around.”

“Seriously?” Natalie stares at her.

“Absolutely.” Rebecca nods.

She wobbles a bit when she slips out of her black heels. Ted offers his shoulder to give her balance and she smiles.

“Yanks versus Brits?” Keeley suggests.

“Fuck the metric system! Yay fractions!” Natalie throws her hands up.

“I love getting smashed, but what’s the prize?” Roy asks.

“Losers have to sing on my karaoke machine. The song that’s never been picked,” Rebecca answers.

“Cool.” Natalie shrugs.

For a kickoff, Natalie out chugs Nate and they get to go first. For half the game, they’re neck and neck which means they drink every other turn. To up the stakes, Rebecca decides the floor is lava and everyone has to find safe purchase on her furniture. Natalie hops up on the ottoman at the same time Ted does. Neither of them makes an attempt to move for the rest of the game even if that means Ted has to catch her a few times. Beard makes a great asset to their team and Natalie knows quite a bit about history. Ted tries to help with pop culture questions. It’s the final question. Natalie versus Roy.

“Explain the offside rule,” Keeley says.

“Like I fucking know. I am in theatre!” Natalie barks at Roy.

“It’s okay. Ted coaches fucking football for a living and doesn’t know what offside is.” Roy rolls his eyes.

“I don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying. Are those real words?” Natalie giggles.

“Stop stalling and answer.” Keeley smiles.

“Um, like one dude is on the other team’s side? And it’s like a penalty?”

“Not quite.” Rebecca puts her thumb down.

“As any of you except Rebecca could hit a high C.” Natalie groans.

“It’s okay. You tried, darlin’.” Ted pats her on the shoulder and completely misses the explanation Roy gives.

“Thanks, Coach.” Natalie doesn’t move his hand.

“The Americans have lost the revolution.” Rebecca sighs with her hands up.

They all come down from the furniture. Ted extends his hand and assists Natalie back onto the floor when Rebecca wheels out her very professional-looking karaoke machine. She plugs into her impressive flat screen and cues up the song.

“Let’s see what we got, huh, team?” Ted says as the music starts. To share the microphone (because Rebecca can’t find the others), Natalie is sandwiched between Ted and Beard. A pop-reggae beat picks up. Ted exchanges a look with Beard whose face is unreadable.

“I don't mind spending some time just hanging here with you. 'Cause I don't find too many guys that treat me like you do.”

Beard begins to swing his hips and it becomes clear to everyone else that the three Americans actually know the song.

“Joke’s on you. It’s a fucking banger.” Natalie rolls her shoulders.

“It’s a good one, ain’t it, Coach?” Ted laughs.

“Best part coming up.” Beard agrees.

“I can make it nice or naughty. Be the devil and angel, too.” Natalie squats down to the floor and pops back up in a perfect slutdrop. Rebecca and Keeley cheer.

With the alcohol taking over, Beard spins her and she’s knocked back. Ted catches her under the arms and she bursts out laughing. He helps her back up and takes her hand in his dancing with the beat while they sing along. Beard gets really into it by the bridge and they share a glance.

“He always gives 100%.”

“Respect.”

The song ends and Rebecca yells out.

“Don’t move, you two!”

“Oi! Look up!” Keeley calls out.

His brow furrows as his eyes travel upward. They’re under the mistletoe because of course they are. Ted raises his eyebrows and Natalie shrugs her shoulders.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Everyone including Beard on the microphone chants.

Ted bends down practically in half because he’s almost a foot taller than her. Their lips meet in a quick peck. She breaks it almost immediately and Ted doesn’t blame her.

“Okay, photos, you fuckers.” Natalie calls out.

They do one of the winners and one of the losers before everyone gets together. Rebecca sets a timer on her phone. Ted lifts her up a bit so she’s not edged out of the photo since she doesn’t have shoes on and is one of the shortest besides Keeley who is latched onto Roy.

“Yes, perfect. Lend me your height, sir.”

As the drinks continue to flow, they all end up crowding around the single microphone for a very loud cover of Darlene Love’s “All Alone on Christmas.” Rebecca pulls Natalie into her as they sing lead for obvious reasons. Ted christens her with his Santa hat while he does a great air saxophone. Even Roy gets into it because “Who doesn’t fucking love Darlene Love?”

In the argument for the next song, Ted notices they’re down one member and finds Natalie in the hall grabbing her purse from the closet.

“You doing an Irish exit?”

“I think they call it a French exit here.”

“When in Rome.”

Ted watches as she puts on her scarf. He grabs the coat off the tree and holds it out for her to slip her arms into. She murmurs her thanks and fixes her lapels. He plucks the Santa hat from her head and puts it back on. She smiles wide.

“It’s kinda my thing, so Rebecca won’t be mad.”

“Your calling card, huh?”

“I hate goodbyes.”

“You waiting on a ride?”

“Yeah.”

“You mind if I keep you company?”

“Nope.”

“All right. I’m in like Flynn then.” He grabs his puffer jacket.

Nora laughs the same infectious laugh he’s heard all night. He follows her out onto the doorstep. It’s not so cold that they can’t wait under the moonlight comfortably. Snowflakes flurry down but don’t stick. It’s a beautiful night.

“I’m real sorry about that awkward kiss.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Natalie turns to face him and a smirk forms on her cranberry lips. That is some impressive lipstick because it has not budged the whole night. “When I thought about kissing you, it wasn’t in front of Rebecca and her guests."

His ears burn and the heat spreads down the back of his neck as he blushes.

“You thought about kissin’ me?”

Her big blue eyes travel up and down his body.

“And you haven’t? Don’t tell me I’m barking up the wrong tree.”

“No, right tree. Great tree. Great dog. I’m the dog not you. You’re—“

“Ted?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna just kiss me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ted leans down and covers her mouth with his. It’s a sweet simple kiss. She lingers on his lips unlike before and he tastes the cinnamon from the mulled wine. Her perfect teeth nip on his lower lip and he gasps. His hand snakes around her waist pushing her closer as their tongues meet. She takes his face in her hands bringing him even closer. They break apart for air and he rests his forehead on hers panting heavily.

“Call the Daily Planet cause there’s a new…”

She just stares up at him, waiting.

“Nope. Nothing. Can I kiss you again?”

“Please, Ted.”

His large hand slips inside her coat as he crushes the red velvet against his fingers. Her nails rake down the back of his neck making him moan. She might be the most skilled kisser he has ever had the pleasure of kissing. A horn honks causing them to jump apart. She laughs and shuffles down the stairs. She takes one look back.

“Merry Christmas, Ted Lasso.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Warren.”

Ted watches as she gets in the car and slips his hands in his jacket pockets. His brow furrows as his fingers rub over something that wasn’t there before. He pulls out a card. It’s Natalie’s business card. Ted laughs. Hmm…he wonders if she has a date to Rebecca’s New Year’s Eve party.

#ted lasso #ted lasso x oc #ted lasso x ofc #oc: natalie warren #fan fic

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autismlou · 2 years

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the neurodivergent nightmare: RUBY SPARKS (2012)

TW! mention of abuse

,,have you seen my other shoe? i`m always losing things“ -ruby

after 10 years i found my way back to ruby sparks, written by lead actress zoe kazan.

this movie placed itself in my subconscious and didn’t fail to remind me of it every 5 years in very cryptic ways. i start remembering a tenseness, hiding behind a glowy haze, maybe even milliseconds of a scene. but rarely enough for me to jump in the euphoria of remembering something u tried hard not to forget.

that changed yesterday.

while watching a youtube video from maia c. ,,how the Manic Pixie Dream Girl romanticizes mental illness, quirky or autistic?``, the background visuals showed zoe kazan in the role of ruby. i instantly felt the familiar tenseness but also a wave of glowy, hazy memories of this movie. as it turns out i really loved it as a kid and watched it multiple times.

that i couldn’t quite comprehend everything, shouldn’t be a surprise for everyone who knows this film already.

youtube

,,why do you look at me like that?´´-ruby

summary:

calvin is 29 years old and a famous writer with his first bestseller gaining popularity when he was only 19 years old.

you can tell that he feels disconnected, even though he attends therapy sessions regularly.

he doesn’t really speak about his internal world neither intellectually or emotionally, he just exists in his luxurious but sparsely decorated home with his dog scotty. but not even scotty gained the role of calvin’s best friend. nobody has.

isolated and alone, calvin also lacks the creativity to start writing again, until he one night randomly starts dreaming about a mysterious but intriguing women. this sparks (lol) a creative flow and he starts writing her into existence night and day, literally.

the imaginary women, ruby sparks, one morning stands in calvin’s house, fully realized and whole.

this twist of events scares calvin and he freaks out but starts realizing that ruby now isn’t only a product of his imagination.

she is a sentient human being. he falls in love, hard.

calvin experiences emotions in ways he cant really comprehend, but he is happy. they are happy.

until ruby´s antics and quirks start to hinder calvin’s day to day life. he gets annoyed by her singing uncontrollably, by her joy over small things. he gets annoyed by the traits that he doesn’t share with her up until the point where ruby was ready to leave.

and even though calvin told his brother, after ruby’s appearance that he will never write about her again, he does and changes her. again and again, until he realizes that she isn’t herself anymore, which he also doesn’t like.

so he changes her back to default ruby but therefore, all their struggles come back with the original version of her.

calvin is disconnected from his own creation, even though he can change everything about her. this sends him spiraling in the last big fight they get in. this results in him showing ruby the manuscript that ´´birthed``her.

ruby is in absolut distress the whole fight but also can’t believe what calvin is telling her so he starts writing in her presence.

he makes her unable to leave the room, talk french, act like a dog, sing and strip for him until she is made to tell him that he is a genius while uncontrollably jumping up and down. it seems like calvin snaps and makes her tell him that she loves him and will never leave , while banging on the wall,sobbing. he makes her stop. she falls exhausted to the ground, panting.

as he tries to touch her she runs into another room and locks herself in.

calvin sits back down and starts completing the story of ruby sparks.-

,,as soon as ruby left the house, the past released her. she was no longer calvin’s creation. from that moment on, only ruby could determine the course of her life. she was free.´

´-calvin

this sadly isn’t the end of the movie, but i wont talk about it right now. such quirk and fun🤡

pt.1: the idea

i liked this movie a lot when i was a child, as previously mentioned. so after regaining memory of this film and hectically looking for a website where i can stream it, i was in utter shock when it came to an end.

the idea of creating something/someone out of your brain is truly fascinating, and it always was to me. my brain is a chaotic place filled with characters, memory’s and things that could never be and that always was my reality. nobody could ever relate to my experiences and what went on in my brain, and it was the same way around. the only thing i could relate to with neurotypicals was and is, trauma. it has been lonely, but never really hindert me in trying anyway. mostly because i didn’t know about my neurodiversity until my 21 year of life.

still, media that depicted neurodiveristy always had a special place in my heart, and know i understand why. just like this movie. but i would never recommend anyone watching it without knowing what is actually going on, which is fucking hard because nobody on set knew themselves.

that’s why i have tumblr now for the first time. that’s why im here. so lets get fucking stared!

pt.2: the behind the scenes

,,how do you know he’s one of the greatest novelists who ever lived? have you read every novel ever written?´´-ruby

the problem is very easy to find, but probably because we neurodiverse peeps are pretty good problem solvers. we know how to view things rationally and solve them. because most things are pretty simple if you look at them rationally, but everybody struggles with this of course. but neurotypicals struggle with it way more. we on the contrary lean to struggle with the many emotional aspects a nt´s brain uses to get to their own conclusion.

because i know this, i can understand how this movie came to be. even though its pretty fucking insane to me still.

so, now that we found each other here, im going to start with a few comments from zoe kazan herself.

she tells us in an casual interview on the searchlight pictures youtube channel from 10 years ago (and i´m paraphrasing here):

that the trope of the manic pixie dream girl is just the idea of a girl and nothing more. a idea of someone can’t be real. that’s why she tells the interviewer that she thinks its a demeaning way to characterize ruby, because she is a fully fleshed role. she in generell critiques the MPDG but not in this film.

in an interview on the rotten tomatoes coming soon youtube channel, she told the interviewer (paraphrasing again):

zoe wanted to tell the dangers of having an idea of a person and holding them to that. that reducing someone like that is an own form of violence.

all of this is true, sadly. you can see these narratives in the movie. still, im telling you not watch it. why?

it’s insensitive and fucking clueless.

zoe tells us that ruby is a fully fleshed character, which is true. i actually really saw myself in her. i know the highs and lows of being different, and ruby did too. but that’s all she was, different. even though her difference was a clear depiction of autism.

pt.3: the problem

,, That’s a lot of pressure.´´-ruby

the problem with this is so apparent. at least it should be. but it clearly wasn’t.

ruby sparks could have been the perfect metaphor for the abuse of neurodiverse women in relationships. im not sure if this is a surprise for you.

calvin is a fucking villain.

i dont want to be insensitive. i know that this could be seen as polarising, if anybody cares or even finds this.

as a fellow autistic its hard for me not to think in black and white, because nearly everything could be that simple if people just were honest with each other and themselves.

and i think, if we really going to be honest here (which im almost always), we can say that categorizing this movie as comedy and romance is fucking twistet.

i never remembered this movie as being funny or romantic. it was ominous and still is. u are watching the creation and breaking of a neurodiverse women and its heartbreaking.

calvin is 29 years old, white, abled bodied, cis men and comes from a wealthy background. he accumulated wealth of his own in the past 10 years. he is in therapy. he even has a dog. calvin has everything right at his fingertips. but he isn’t happy. he carry’s himself like a wet grey sock. no hobby’s. no happiness. also a dead dad but we never really explore if he was close to him, he isn’t really close to his mom neither.

this is our protagonist. a basic bitch. there is no way i could feel bad for him. everything he could need to change his life or at least his outlook on it are already a part of his life. of course he is afraid of people just wanting to be with him because of his fame but he never even takes the leap. i understand social distress and and how scary it is to meet new people. i mean duh. but i can’t really change anything about it. he could, but won’t. he lurks in the shadow of his own success and isolates himself, but keeps feeling miserable. calvin all in all is a pathetic excuse of a human and the reason why i don’t like men.

then we have ruby. a spunky artist that is confident in herself and her abilities. a person that would rather risk sounding crazy then silencing herself. she sings and dances and just radiates live when she is happy. she is unapologetically herself. wearing a bright red dress with purple tights and green shoes. who wants to and convince me ruby is a neurotypical hmm? nobody could. but she also feels the pressure of calvin relying on her to keep him happy. she can define that her melancholy stems from her being lonely, from her not being able to do what she loves.

zoe is right when she tells us ruby is a full human even though she was the miracle in this film. calvin was just the idea of a depressed intellectual that can’t find connection in the regular, in the unspectacular. that’s why ruby was so different. so that she could carry him on her cloud of special.

and even though zoe herself said that reducing people is violent, why didn’t calvin suffer like ruby? calvin just regularly got critiqued for his lone wolf attitude.

calvin just was in the privileged position to shrug it off because he believed that he was smart enough to realize his flaws if he had them. in his eyes all his problem stemmed from not being in a relationship. but then when he was in one with ruby, all his flaws lead to them being incompatible because he wouldn’t recognize them. so he found all the flaws in ruby just being different.

i hope everybody can get on what im critiquing here.

calvin, the creator, was even less of a character than the one he literally wrote into existence. he created a person that was in her way of creating a fulfilled live and as soon as he realized that she didn´t need him for it, he got scared. and isn’t that just pathetic? he couldn’t keep up so he changed her and made her miserable.

but the clinging, her being emotional and dependent on him, was too much. so he changed her again…..

so now….. how do we feel seeing a perfectly fine character getting changed in their core because their partner isn’t satisfied…. what does that sound like to you ?

pt.4:the end

,,have you read it?´´-ruby

- calvin releases a new book about his incredible experience with ruby. she now is gone and he hopes that she won’t read it. the only thing that she took with her after the fight, except her own clothes was a ´i love you´ note he had left for her.

in the end calvin goes on a walk with scotty and they meet ruby, laying on a blanket in a park.

reading his new book. she does not remember him even though she feels a familiarity. they start talking and the movie ends with ruby and calving looking each other lovingly in the eyes.

WTF!!!! when i tell you that my heart dropped. i sincerely hoped until this last part that the genre listing for this movie was just wrong. but it really was meant to be a romcom , and i literally felt sick to my stomach.

he got a happy ending. why??

my immediate thought was : ,,why in hell, was it ruby?? couldn’t it just have been some random new woman??´´ just imagine, he meets a new woman. this could be such a good way of showing that he in the end still had a great enough time with no big need of recovery. you see calvin crying only on the night ruby left. than he starts writing, running, cooking. its like he himself starts a new life and works on his flaws.

mind you, after he broke ruby.

what does that tell us? ruby got emotionally abused out by this person, just so that he can transition into an adult that’s MAYBE more in touch with his emotions. for the first time at 29. and stills gets the girl. again.

and the way that the absolutely traumatizing scene where calvin made ruby do what he wanted, never got spoken of again. as if a men making a women do absolutely everything he wants while she clearly does not want to do it. bending and breaking into the molds that he creates for her isn’t fucking scary, should never happen. still, i relate to that. this kind of abuse happened to me.

i was 15 years old and my boyfriend of the time who always has been 2 years older , manipulated me right from the start so i could be whatever he wanted me to be. for 1 1/2 years. this was 2016 and i didnt realize until 2021.

i got tought that i have to be exactly the way everyone wants me to be. so did ruby. they can tell that u wont leave, they can tell that you would do everything to do your one big love right. ruby didn’t had another choice, but neither did i. because nobody ever told me. i had to crack, bend and break more than ones in this relationship before just being so done that you have no other option then leave. but ruby never really did. she still owns that note even though she doesn’t have all the memory’s.

i don´t have all the memory’s, i don’t want them but i will forever know that in this time of my young life, i was used miserable. and maybe its good that ruby does not remember, but he does. and he still longs for her to kiss him again. maybe my abuser also longs for me, the perfect girlfriend, to be back in his life. but thankfully we are not the protagonists of this severely and sadly misguided movie.

in the end calvin gets a happy end with the literal girl of his dreams, even though he is the only one remembering every detail, it wasn’t his trauma. and that makes him the winner either way…

did you like it?-ruby and me

#Youtube #actuallyautistic #autism #autistic #movie review #ruby sparks #neurodiverse nightmare #neurodivergent #its the neurodivergency #special interest #essay #movie essay #commentary #hyperfixation #writing #deep dive

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