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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

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Hero | Luke Patterson

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Song Fic February Week 4: Musicals

Inspiration: StarStruck (DCOM)

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Anon suggested doing something with the Starstruck soundtrack, so I’m writing a whole-ass series. This is based off the plot of Starstruck but the reader was a fan of JATP until she met Luke... Basically crush to enemies to lovers! Also a modern!au.

The third installment of the StarStruck series!

StarStruck

Something About The Sunshine

Hero

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Luke x Fem!reader

Song(s) used: Hero - Christopher Wilde (StarStruck ST)

Warnings: few swear words, mention of car accidents, mention of child abuse, mention of postnatal depression, tiny bit of angst

Words: 8.6K

I’m almost nervous to see him again. There’s a nervous flutter erupting from the pit of my stomach and I feel hot and sweaty when it’s not even that warm out. The boy didn’t have that effect on me just a day ago and now he suddenly does? I hate this.

“Morning,” I greet when I find Luke standing outside the coffee shop with his hood pulled far over his head and sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. He shoots me a smile, but I don’t think he actually looks at me. Right, the whole “I can’t be seen with you”-thing.

“Want to go grab some coffee before we go?” I ask instead, pointing at the shop.

Luke nods his head and follows me inside where we wait in line together. The silence that hangs over us is uncomfortable for the first time. I don’t know why but his mysterious, secretive antics are making me nervous.

“Next!” the barista calls and the two of us step forward. The twenty-something woman shoots the both of us a polite smile, not even acknowledging that Luke’s keeping his head low. This is L.A., she’s probably used to it by now. “What can I get for ya?”

“An iced vanilla latte for me, please,” I say and then glance down at Luke.

He coughs. “Iced caramel macchiato.” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as though he’s telling the barista and me a secret. I’m glad we’re going to be out of the city soon, so Luke can go back to his regular self. Or to the singing-on-top-of-a-car-in-the-middle-of-nowhere self.

“What’s your name, please?”

“Y/N…” My eyes land on Luke for a split second, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even going to answer. Luke’s a pretty generic name, I’m sure people won’t even bother to look up. “Put my name on both, please.”

The barista smiles and then dashes off after I paid to start making our coffees while we shuffle towards the end of the counter, ready to take our drinks when they’re ready. Luke keeps his head down. He doesn’t even look up at me and the awkward silence doesn’t eb away.

“You’re not gonna talk to me yet, are you?” I ask him as I hand him one of the two straws I picked up. He shakes his head. I try my hardest not to groan and instead, hand him the keys to my car. “Here, get yourself settled in my car, I’ll handle this.”

His eyes peer over the rim of his sunglasses, flickering with uncertainty and gratefulness at the same time. I shoot him a smile, urging him to get out of here, which he does with a quick flash of his teeth.

The awkwardness quickly washes off me when he’s left the coffee shop and I’m all alone, hoping everything would change once we’re all alone, away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles’ residents.

“Iced vanilla latte and iced caramel macchiato for y/n,” the barista calls and places the cups on the counter in front of me.

I smile at her, say, “Thank you! Bye!” and then dart out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. I weave my way through hasty people and slacking tourists towards my Toyota Yaris where a hooded boy sits in my passenger seat. He still has his hood pulled up and his sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. He almost looks sad, which makes me a little sad too. I wish I could do more than let him wait in my car.

“Here you go,” I say and hand him his coffee when I’ve settled into my seat.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just for the beverage.

A smile etches its way to my cheeks as I regard him. “You’re welcome,” I say and then start the engine. As I pull out of the parking lot, Luke finally sparks up a conversation. I’m almost relieved to hear his voice again for more than two words.

“Where’re we going?” he asks.

I debate telling him but then decide I’d do it anyway. I’ve been researching a lot last night and have found the greatest secluded spots and the time slots when they’re mostly deserted or have the least visitors. The one I wanted to take him to today was a lot closer than the other ones, so I figured we could start with that.

“The Old L.A. Zoo. It’s less crowded before 9am, so I figured we could go explore it a bit until too many people arrive?” The statement comes out of my mouth as a question since I’m unsure whether or not he’d like that.

“Cool,” he replies, and he sounds honest, too. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.”

It surprises me a little, but I go with it anyway. “Really? I’ve been there plenty of times! It’s really cool! Kinda spooky.” Luke lets out an airy laugh at that and it makes my heart flutter a little.

Within ten minutes, we arrive at the old zoo. Ten minutes had gone by and yet it felt like a split second. The conversation ran fluently on our way there and Luke told me things about the band and his childhood that not even the biggest fangirl on earth could possibly know. I love talking to Luke about those seemingly uninteresting, small things.

The rest of the morning, too, goes by as if there’s no concept of time whatsoever. The two of us walk through the old, abandoned zoo and explore every single old habitat. I even find a website that tells us the entire history of each section of the zoo and as I read it, Luke listens and adds in his own commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in just a few hours. This guy is genuinely funny and I just adore talking to him. Our conversations go from the ridiculous to the serious, and every subject in between.

It’s just the perfect day that I wish would never end, but inevitably, Luke has his own responsibilities and has to go by lunch time.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the studio?” he asks with a smile as we’re making our way back to the car. “I’m in there all by myself, aside from our producer, and I’m recording a few songs.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, letting incomprehensible sounds roll out. It makes me look like a dumbfounded fish, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My brain is dysfunctioning for a moment. Luke Patterson is asking me to come to the studio with him. To watch him record some songs. Songs that are going to be on the album.

Luke’s laugh makes the gears in my brain fall back into place. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

A heat rises up to my cheeks. “Yeah,” I finally manage.

“Cool,” he says and then gets into the car.

The ride to the studio is filled with smooth conversation. We never miss a beat, there’s never an awkward silence between the two of us. Only when we arrive at the recording studio and we’re met with a huddle of paparazzi outside the door.

“Fuck,” he mutters and ducks down. I do the same, knowing he doesn’t want me to be seen with him either. “Drive around back,” he orders before fumbling into the glove compartment of my car. He retrieves a pair of sunglasses I kept there, along with a shawl of my mother’s that I didn’t know was still in there. “Put this on.”

“No,” I reply sternly, pushing his hand with the shawl away. I do take the sunglasses from his hand though, and push them onto my nose. “Put that shawl away,” I bark. The boy obeys and stuffs the piece of cursed fabric back where it came from.

Mental note: throw that out.

When we finally do get into the recording studio, as soon as I’m on Luke’s side, he grabs my hand and drags me into the building before anyone could ever spot us. I nearly stumble on my own feet, but quickly pick myself back up before I faceplant the floor.

Luke huffs. “Phew, that was close.”

He looks at me, and for a second, I think he might bring up the shawl again, but he doesn’t and instead turns to his producer, who had gotten up from his swivel chair the second we burst in.

“Connor!” Luke greets excitedly and shakes the man’s hand.

He looks near his thirties, strong built with flawless dark skin and a full head of afro hair. Combined with his extremely savvy outfit, I find him really cool-looking. He’s the kind of guy that would get all the girls in high school while still being a sweetheart.

“You brought some new flesh, I see,” Connor says to me and outstretches his hand for me to shake. I do so with a wide smile on my face while pretending not to be completely nervous about being in a recording studio for the first time.

“Y/N,” I introduce myself.

“Welcome to our little slice of heaven on earth, y/n.” My eyes flick to Luke, who’s giving me that look again, so I quickly turn back to Connor. “Any knowledge of recording studios, y/n?” he asks.

“Never been in one, but my friend is a producer and he did teach me some things.”

I hear Luke huff beside me. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I shoot him a wink as Connor beckons me towards his deck. For a while, Connor guides me through his paces while Luke gives the best of himself on this song.

After a few takes, Luke comes out of the booth and joins me and Connor to listen to what we’d recorded thus far. “What if –” I pause, debating my thoughts. “What if we go in with some soft backing vocals on here?” I click the part of the chorus we’d recorded and sing along with recorded Luke.

“'Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if your the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“I think if you put Julie on those backings, it could give that duet-vibe you guys are so good at.” I notice Connor and Luke glance at each other, soft smiles playing on both their lips.

“Why don’t you show us?” Connor asks as Luke already grabs my hand.

“What?! Me? No! Julie.”

Luke chuckles and drags me into the booth with him. “Yeah, but we’re gonna need a demo, don’t we?” He delicately places a set of headphones on my head before placing one on his own. He signals to Connor and no later than 2 seconds, the instrumental version of the song blasts through the headphones.

Gazing at me, Luke starts singing the first verse of the song, and I let him. It almost feels like he’s serenading me. Almost. All that’s missing is a guitar or a boombox over his head.

“I'm no superman I can't take your hand And fly you anywhere you want to go Yeah I can't read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you want to hear But I'll be your hero”

From the chorus onwards, I jump in with backing vocals wherever I feel like it’s acceptable without taking my eyes off of Luke.

“I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Oh I'll be your hero” “Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Yeah I'll be your hero”

“So incredible Some kind of miracle That's what it's meant to be I'll become a hero So I wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

We keep our eyes locked at the high note too, smiles plastered on our faces from ear to ear. Singing with Luke gives me some kinda rush. A feeling I can’t quite describe but it’s a feeling I want to feel more often.

“Yeah, I'll be your hero Yeah”

“Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, Yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy with and soul But if you're the one for me I'll be your hero”

“Yeah, I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me”

“Yeah I'll be your hero”

The music fades out in our headphones, and soon, Connor’s applause sounds through it instead. I’m snapped back into reality, away from cloud 9, away from the pure bliss that’s singing with Luke and gazing into his eyes.

“That was amazing! Good job, guys!” Connor says, beaming.

Luke and I remove our headphones and he grabs my hand to lead me back to the decks where Connor welcomes us with open arms and a wide smile.

“I thought you and Julie were the most watchable duetters, but I’ve been proven wrong.”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks before Luke snaps me out of it again.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Con. Can you send the finished product to the band and our manager? I’m sure they’d like to hear this. Don’t tell them who’s on backing vocals, though. They don’t need to know that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and try to convince myself it’s probably not that deep. Luke doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not even by his band mates. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

We wrap up the recording session and I drive Luke back to the coffee shop where he looks behind him and out of every single one of the windows, just to be sure the coast is clear of paparazzi.

“Thanks for the day, y/n. I really enjoyed spending time with you again.”

I force a smile. Ever since his statement to Connor about not wanting the band to know about me, I’ve been going over everything in my mind and it has caused me to fold in on myself.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

He gazes at me for a moment, inspecting every inch of my face as if detecting the lie from my eyes. When I think he’s just going to bid his goodbyes and get out, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his body to me and reaches for his phone. I watch as he unlocks it and taps away on it before turning the device towards me. There’s a new contact form open on his screen.

“Gimme your number. I’d love to do this again some day.”

I furrow my brow while taking the phone in my hands. “Do you even have time to spend days with a nobody like me?” I don’t dare look at him and keep my eyes on the screen as I type my name and number.

He doesn’t say anything either until I finally cave and look up when giving his phone back. There’s a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

“You’re not a nobody, y/n. I’d gladly make time for you. I told you, I loved spending days away from reality. Especially with you.” Fangirl Me is jumping out of my skin while Present Me tries to keep her cool and ignore all of the butterflies that erupt in her stomach.

“Cool,” Present Me says out loud while Fangirl Me is scolding her so hard.

Cool? Cool?! Seriously? Dude.

“I’ll text you, yeah?”

I nod my head in response and watch as he gets out of my car. Before I can even place my foot on the gas or shift out of park, my phone beeps in the pocket of my sweater. For the first time in forever, I smile when seeing an unknown number on my screen.

As I look out of my window, I find Luke looking at me with his hood pulled over his head again. He shoots me a quick smile and a wave before I turn to my phone again and type a reply.

I whip my head up to see his reaction. His jaw drops before his face turns into a scowl as he glares at me. Giggling and satisfied with the reaction, I place my phone on the passenger’s seat where Luke was sitting before and then pull out of the parking spot.

That night, I save Luke’s number to my phone. I go between “Luke P.”, “Patterson” and “Luke ❤️” but eventually decide on the funnier option and save him as “Poo Musician 💩”.

I stand in line at the coffee shop before 8:30 that morning and I’m a little nervous. Last night when I returned from my day with Luke, the two of us had been texting back and forth. I felt like a sixteen year old again. One of those giggly teenagers that’s texting their crush. Which is what I was, but it’s been a while since I felt like it.

Once I have an iced vanilla latte and an iced caramel macchiato, I head outside where I find a boy waiting by my car. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt paired with a bright blue sleeveless sweater, his hood pulled far over his head so his face is hidden from prying eyes.

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s Luke. I’d recognize those muscles from a mile away. The way he’s leaning against the hood of my car and the way he’s holding his phone is a dead giveaway too.

“Your coffee, sir,” I say in a serious, deep voice.

Luke’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights until he notices it’s just me and relaxes. A smile etches onto his face as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans whilst taking the coffee I ordered for him with his other hand.

He takes a cautious sip from the beverage. “Hm, Caramel Macchiato, someone’s been stalking me.” I know he’s just teasing, I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes have that childlike glint in them.

Making my way to the driver’s side of my car, I smile and say, “Contrary to popular belief, Patterson, I’m not a stalker. I just remembered your order from yesterday.”

Luke’s smile tells me something I’d rather not think about. It’s like he’s saying “You remembered my order” in that flirty way only he knows how to. I simply shrug before opening my door and getting in with Luke following my example. Without missing a beat, he fishes my phone from between my fingers and grabs my free hand to use my thumb to unlock my phone. This time, I don’t object and let him. I know that it’s just to get to my music app anyway.

While Journey’s Anyway You Want It plays through the car’s speakers, I pull out of the parking spot in front of the coffee shop and start driving to the next location I’d found during my research the other night.

“Where’re we going?” he asks, and I flashback to yesterday when he asked me the exact same question in that exact same way.

I smile as I place my cup in the cupholder between the two of us. “You’ll see.” I glance over, finding him tilting his head slightly and giving me that ‘Really?’ look. “I promise it’s very secluded and not a lot of people will be there.”

“Cool,” he says and sips. “Is this where you’re going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I bet you could get a lot of money for a Julie and The Phantoms band member.”

I snort at his remark. “How much do you think I could get for you?”

He scrunches up his nose in thought, which I catch as I take a quick glance at him again. As I face the road again, I reach for my coffee and take a quick sip, awaiting Luke’s response to my question.

“Like 10k?”

I nearly spit out my coffee. “10k?!” I screech, and his laugh thunders through my car. “Careful or I’ll actually kidnap you and hold you for ransom if I’m gonna earn that much.”

The laughter dies down and after a few moments of silence lingering in the air, Luke says, “How much do you think I’m worth?”

Without missing a beat, I respond to his question, dead serious. “Not even a dollar.”

Luke gasps, his mouth dropping in absolute disbelief while I can’t help but cackle loudly. Judging from this conversation alone, I’m positive today will be a good day. A good, fun day.

“I’m worth more than a dollar, right?”

“No, you’re right, I’d probably ask like a million and then no one will pay the ransom and you’ll have to stay with me for the rest of your life.”

I let out my best maniacal laughter as I feel him watch me. I know the exact look he’s giving me. The look. The one with the glistening eyes and the slightly turned up lips. The one all girls and gays swoon for. The one I would swoon for if I’d turn my head right now. But I don’t. For once in my life, I’m smart and keep my eyes on the road.

“You like me,” he states proudly.

“Slightly less strong dislike.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I’m hoping Luke won’t notice. Or at least not acknowledge it because I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

“I’ll take it.”

He reaches forward and turns the volume up as Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” floats through the speakers. Very loudly, and very obnoxiously, the boy begins to sing along. If it wasn’t for the velvet smooth voice, I would’ve scolded at him to keep it down. But the sound actually makes my toes curl and my stomach flutter. For a verse, I let him sing by himself while I enjoy his performance but by the chorus, I can’t withhold myself and sing along with him.

The rest of the ride is filled with belting of the road trip tunes, laced with patches of small talk. It’s the perfect car ride, and before we know it, we’ve arrived at our destination. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area. The parking lot is practically empty, aside from two cars, which I’m assuming are the staff’s. It’s the perfect indication that I picked the right spot to go to, and I can tell Luke knows it too.

He’s bouncing in his seat, either from excitement or the amount of sugar that was in his iced coffee, and when I turn off the ignition and turn to him, he looks at me with the widest smile plastered on his face. He almost looks like an excited toddler on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents.

“I came here once with my parents when I was younger,” he tells me, “I love this place.”

His confession makes me smile. “Good because I’ve been scouring the internet for the perfect place.” He shoots me the look again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to kiss me.”

He shrugs, “Maybe I want to.”

“So you want me to slap you?”

His smile fades away immediately. “Let’s go,” he grumbles and quickly gets out.

I heave in a deep breath, recollecting myself before getting out too and retrieving the backpack I brought, filled with stuff for today. Including my itinerary – or just a notebook filled with some ideas I had.

“How about we start with a bike ride across the park?” I suggest, pointing at the bike rental shop I found on Google the other night.

We walk into the rental place, expecting there to be bikes upon bikes but instead, we’re met with kayaks, pedal boats and go-karts. My eyebrows furrow, creasing my forehead as I look around the space. Why’s this called a bike rental when there are technically no bikes to rent? No actual bikes.

“I thought we were going for a bike ride?” Luke says, teasingly. I look up at him, and I think my face tells him enough about my knowledge about this place. My research clearly wasn’t sufficient.

Deciding to just roll with the circumstances, I roll my shoulders back and put a smile on my face. “Yeah, we’re going on a bike ride with one of these!” I say and point to the large, green go-kart. One of those that look like an old-school car at the front and have children’s seats in front of the terribly cushioned seats for adults. The ones with the small plastic wheel and bike pedals for two adults. I remember going on one of those big ones for six people with my family.

“You’re serious?” Luke asks, his eyes wide.

Instead of answering, I shoot him a smile before stepping forwards towards the staff member at the counter. The woman behind the counter looks no older than 45 and has long, billowing blonde locks that cascade down her shoulders. Her bright blue piercing eyes glisten as they land on the two of us, clearly glad she sees some customers so early in the day.

“Good morning,” she greets with a smile, “We open in half an hour.”

“Oh…” My research has been poor.

Before I can possibly think of an answer, Luke steps forward and flashes the woman a smile. I’m not sure if he’s going to use his manly charms or if he’s going to pull the “Don’t you know who I am?” card.

“Can’t you… make an exception for us?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter as he looks at the woman through his lashes. The woman looks up at Luke, her face like stone. She doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t fall for his charms either.

Shaking my head, I spring into action. I quickly change the ring on my index finger to my ring finger and wrap my arm around Luke’s bicep while the other rests on his chest, making sure the ring is as visible as can be. As I flutter my eyelashes at the woman, I let the words tumble out of my mouth.

“Please, ma’am? It’s our one year engagement anniversary and he was going to take me on this romantic bike ride….” I then lean forward over the counter. “He’s not very good at researching our dates, but he tries.”

The woman’s eyebrows knit together as her eyes dart from me to Luke and back.

“Aren’t you guys a little young to be engaged?”

Luke jumps into the improvisation spot. “We’ve been told that a lot but we’ve been best friends for years and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” He looks down at me and when I glance up, too, he kisses the tip of my nose, which I then scrunch.

I ignore the flutters in my stomach and face the woman again. She seems to have softened, her eyes less icy than it was before. Then, she turns to her computer and clicks through a few browsers before facing us again.

“What do you guys want? The Surrey?” She points to the green bike-thing at the front of the shop. I nod my head in response. “Okay. You’ve got it for two hours for the price of one hour.”

A smile etches its way to my face. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Luke pays the woman the rental fee and then she helps us get Surrey out of the garage. After bidding our goodbyes, Luke and I pedal off on the bike.

“One year engagement, really?” Luke asks me when we’re far enough from the rental and I switch my rings back around.

“Well, whatever you were doing didn’t work.”

He scoffs. “It was working.”

We pedal down the winding road with the wind blowing through our hair. I love how warm the breeze is and how the birds are chirping in the trees around us. This is the perfect day to go out and do this.

“What exactly were you planning to do?” I ask him, glancing up at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead of us, a comfortable smile resting on his lips while his eyes flick from one side to another, taking everything in.

He glances down at me, the smile turning into a smirk. “I was going to charm her with my manly wiles.”

“And how was that working for ya?”

For a second, we lock eyes. Luke has an annoyed look on his face while I can’t help but have my lips curl up on one side into a smirk. When he whips his head forward again, I notice the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks.

Did I just make Luke Patterson blush?

“So,” he coughs. “Whatcha wanna do?”

I shrug. “We could play twenty questions? Get to know each other better.”

He nods his head in response. “You wanna start?”

“That’s your first question?”

“That’s yours?”

I press my lips together, shutting myself up for just a moment before recomposing myself. I’m not going to lie, I totally Googled some questions to ask in a game of 20 questions. So, I’m prepared.

“If you had to be trapped on a deserted island with one of your friends, who would you pick and why?” Luke’s eyes widen at the question a little.

“Woah, straight in! I thought you were gonna start with ‘favorite color’ or something.” He chuckles lightly, and so do I. “Uhm… Not Alex, he’d probably be super anxious and pace all the way across the island and make me nervous. Not Reggie either, he’d be singing country songs the entire time, though he is a great cuddler. Maybe Julie? Though she’s gonna be miserable without Flynn….”

With every thought he says out loud, my smile grows bigger and bigger.

“You?” My heart leaps in my chest at his answer. “Yeah, I like spending time with you and what better place to get away from real life than a deserted island, right?”

Without missing a beat, the next words pour out of my mouth. “It’s cute how you think we’re friends now.” I surprise myself with the words I speak. We are friends, but I like winding him up into thinking we’re not.

“Friends who wanna kiss each other.”

Ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks, I reply, “You mean kill?”

Luke shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “When are you going to admit that you like me?”

“Never – Next question.”

“Uhm… What was the last thing you stole or shoplifted?” he asks and I’m glad he doesn’t push any further on the fact I basically admitted that I like him.

“Oh! A magnet in a tourist shop in Lanzarote,” I reply, giggling a little at the memory. “I was there with a couple of friends during Spring Break and those magnets cost way too much for what they are and there was like a rack outside the shop. So, I shoplifted an overpriced Lanzarote magnet.”

Luke throws his head back as he laughs, nearly steering us into the bushes. “That’s amazing,” he cackles.

We cruise through the entire park for two entire hours, asking each other questions, and after returning the Surrey, we walk towards the lake where we settle down onto the blanket I brought for some food. I’d prepared an entire picnic basket for us to enjoy during our lunch.

“I find it very cute that you made an entire picnic basket for our first date.”

I smile. “I find it very cute that you think this is a date.”

He gives me the look again, but I ignore it and get every piece of food out of my backpack, sprawling it out around us. Sandwiches, chopped up vegetables and fruits, muffins,... All the delicious foods you’d find in a picnic.

“Tell me more about your childhood,” Luke then says as he takes a chicken sandwich and takes a bite. “You don’t talk about it much.”

My heart drops into my stomach. I wish he wouldn’t ask about that. Talking about my childhood means talking about my mother and I’ve been trying to avoid that for the past years. Not that many of my friends even know about that.

“I told you plenty.”

“You talked about your teenage years, but never about your childhood.”

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to shut up about this until I tell him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t love talking about what happened with my mother. It’s something I’d much rather forget.

“There’s a reason for that,” I reply pointedly and then shut myself up by taking a sip from the box of orange juice. I’d packed one for the both of us, but I’m the only one who’s opened it already as Luke had gone straight in with the sandwiches.

Luke stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. His eyes pierce through my soul and give me a sense of comfort. They lift a weight of my shoulders and chest that I hadn’t even noticed were there. His eyes feel like coming home. Comfortable. A place to relax. A place to be me, be myself.

I heave in a deep breath and place my juice box on my nervously bouncing knee, holding it with my hand. It doesn’t stop the bouncing, so now my whole body is practically shaking along with the movement.

“I–” I stop myself, reconsidering my words. “My childhood wasn’t the sunshine and roses it’s supposed to be.” I chuckle nervously and when I meet Luke’s eyes again, they’re looking at me with such intent that I almost launch forward and kiss him. But I don’t.

“Mom was… difficult to live with…” I start cautiously, not even daring to look at Luke as I speak and keep my eyes on the still lake in front of us. “She uhm… After I was born, she kinda went into postnatal depression. She didn’t take care of me, she barely even looked at me… At one point, it went so far that she got into an accident, on purpose, with me in the back. She did it a few times, even, to the point where dad just had to report it. She was admitted to the psych ward and that was that... I was ten at the time.” I swallow to hold back the tears that are pricking behind my eyes.

Feeling a soft brush of the hand on my knee, I glance up, meeting Luke’s eyes. They give me that sense of comfort again, that sense of home, the reassurance that I’m okay.

“We haven’t really seen her since. She’s out of our lives…” I sniffle and place my hand over Luke’s, giving it a thankful squeeze. “I don’t like talking about it.”

Luke carefully laces his fingers through mine, his cold rings cooling my warm hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” I shrug dismissively. “But thank you for telling me.”

“So, tell me,” I lift our entwined hands for a second as though pulling us back into reality. “How did Sunset Curve-slash-Julie and The Phantoms came to be?”

Luke chuckles before engulfing our locked hands with his other and tumbling into the origin story of the bands he was in. He talks about meeting Reggie and Alex in primary school, and then meeting Bobby in middle school. He explains how they started the band in music class and then continued playing together until Bobby moved away from Los Angeles. The story then lapses into giggles and chuckles about all the things they tried to keep Sunset Curve alive, but terribly failed.

“But then we met Julie in high school and – the rest is history.”

We’re clearing up our mess before making our way back towards the car. I love hearing Luke talk, especially about the band. It makes his eyes light up and he gets all bouncy and enthusiastic. It’s the cutest side of Luke I ever did see in the past few days of hanging out with him.

I take one last look at the lake where tiny dots of humans are floating along on the lake in their tiny boats. There are just a few, so nothing to worry about, but it does make me want to go kayaking too. Mostly because I don’t want the day to end.

“Wanna go kayaking?” I ask Luke, pulling him to a halt by tugging at our still intertwined hands. His eyes dart from mine to the lake and back. I can tell he’s debating it, but then he nods and a smile appears on his face.

With our hands intertwined, we go back to the rental place and ask the woman for a double kayak. We pay, put on the safety vests she’s given us and then proceed onto the water. As we pedal along, Luke tells me about all the adventures he’s been on with his friends and how he used to do this all the time before his schedule got so crazy.

Every now and again, he stops and pretends to tip the kayak, making me squeal each and every time whilst he laughs his most maniacal laugh.

The wall I’d built around my heart was slowly crumbling. Every laugh, every touch, every glance took away a small part of the brick wall. I’m falling in love with the boy I’d had a crush on and then strongly disliked for a good five-ish days.

Getting distracted was not a good idea as I’m not prepared for what follows next. Luke pretends to tip it over again, but this time, he wobbles too hard and actually makes the boat topple overhead. I squeal, but quickly shut my mouth as I tumble into the water, making sure not too much of the lake’s contents gets into my body.

“Patterson!” I scowl as I crash the surface again and find Luke laughing a few feet away. His brown, shaggy hair sticks to his head, dripping small drops of water onto his face. If I wasn’t so angry at him, I would definitely kiss him right here, right now.

“I hate you!” I splash some water at him as the words roll off my lips. Luke’s laughter abruptly stops and he stares at me. His once glistening eyes dull down while his mouth falters into a frown.

“You do?”

My face softens as I watch him. He looks so beautiful with his hair all dishevelled and the reflection of the sun on the water mirroring onto his face. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad.

I swim closer towards him and stroke his wet hair out of his face. My breath hitches in my throat at how close we are but I try to play it off by keeping my hands on his face and my eyes locked with his. I notice his eyes flicking down to my lips a few times, telling me he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him.

Should I? Full throttle? Or step on the brakes?

I don’t even get the time to think about it as Luke presses his lips to mine. Now I don’t hesitate a single moment and immediately kiss him back. Sliding my hands into his wet locks and pressing my body as close as I can, I melt entirely into him. The same sense of bliss I have when singing with Luke washes over me and I find myself on cloud 9 again.

We pull back after a moment to catch our breath. The glint in his eyes is back and his mouth, though a little swollen and red, curls up into a smile. He presses one more kiss to my nose before helping me towards the shore. We climb out of the water and bring the boat back to the rental place, along with our safety vests.

Grabbing my backpack I had left with the woman for safekeeping, Luke and I bid our goodbyes and leave the rental, intertwining our hands again. The feeling his hand in mine gives me will never get old.

As we get to the car again, I yawn, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Luke smiles upon noticing this and takes the keys from my hand. Wordlessly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and then leads me to the passenger side. He opens the door and lets me get in before shutting the door and jogging to the other side.

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, just the crackling of a song playing on the radio filling out the quietness. I rest my head against the headrest and glance at Luke every now and again as he drives Sabrina. He has that one-hand feel on the steering wheel and the other rest comfortably in mine on the gearshift.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I mumble, unable to speak any louder.

A smile etches its way to Luke’s face. “Me too.” He takes a quick glance at me and then lifts our hands to plant a kiss on my knuckles. “Our band’s house is closer, you want to stop there and get us dry before you go home?”

I hum softly, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. Luke’s thumb grazing the back of my hand almost lulls me to sleep until he curses before the car comes to a halt. He pulls his hand away from mine and when I look up, the driveway and street in front of the enormous white-brick house is filled with dozens of cars.

“Fuck, I forgot about the album wrap party,” he grumbles and then looks over at me. I’m shivering from the cold and exhaustion. “I can’t let you drive home like that.”

I’m unsure if he’s talking to me or pondering out loud, but I shake my head instead. “It’s fine,” I say. “My house isn’t that far away… I think…”

“No, y/n. I’m not letting you drive home exhausted and cold.” His voice is stern, yet laced with a bit of worry. “You’re gonna come in and I’m– I’m gonna bring you up to my room. You can dry off there and maybe take a nap or something. Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” He sounds way too excited about something so banal.

He hops out of the car and quickly jogs over to my side whilst I’m already opening the door. Before I could react, he tugs me towards the house. I can barely get my bearings or take the time to look where I’m going before I’m pulled into a room.

“There are shirts and joggers in the dresser over there, pick out whichever you like and then take a nap or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my cheek and then dashes towards the door.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?”

He lets go of the door handle and slowly turns towards me. His eyes are laced with regret as he takes in the sight in front of him. I must look ridiculous with my hair and clothes wet and bags under my eyes.

“Please, y/n? I can’t have people know about us, okay? I just – can’t…”

Turning on his heel, he opens the door and leaves me in his bedroom all alone. I take a minute to let the information process in my brain before turning around and taking in the room I’m in.

The walls are painted white, except for the one wall behind his bed that’s a muted dark blue. His bed is king size and on either side is a nightstand. I inch closer to the one that’s actually filled with stuff, which I’m assuming is the one he uses most. Nightstand contents often tell a lot about a person. His contains the band’s autobiography, “Bruce Springsteen: All The Songs” and “Beach Read” by Emily Henry, the book I started the other week and shared on Instagram Stories.

Would he have seen that and decided to read it too?

Shaking the ridiculous thought out of my head, I move over to his dresser and take out a pair of joggers and his Rush muscle tank I’ve seen him in many a time during gigs. I peel my drenched clothes off my body and get into Luke’s freshly washed ones. They smell of his laundry products. It’s a fresh and calming scent.

For a while, I look around his room. The books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls, most of which of the band and some of him and Carrie Wilson. There had been a rumor about him dating the Instagram Influencer, but I’d never believed it until I saw her face pop up in some of the framed photos in his room.

I decide to go and venture about the house since all the commotion seems to be outside in the garden. I weave through hallway upon hallway, finding more photos and more things that belong to the band. The living room walls are adorned with platinum records and other awards they’d won over the two years they’d been active in the music industry. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride rush over me. That’s my favorite band right there. That’s the boy I’ve fallen in love with.

“Excuse me – Who are you?”

The voice makes me jump out of my skin. I thought everyone was outside. When I look up, I find the perfectly flawless face of Carrie Wilson. Her long, blonde hair cascades into curls down her shoulders and back while her round, brown eyes stare at me with intent and curiosity.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. I–” I stop myself, remembering Luke didn’t want anyone to know about us. That includes his girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend.

Carrie’s mouth curls up into an amused, curious smile, catching onto what’s happening. “You’re Luke’s new adventure, aren’t you?” I huff out the breath I was holding. It’s a telling huff, I’m sure. “You are…” She trails off and inspects me for a second before continuing. “Just so you know, it’s not going to work. Luke’s too infatuated with this lifestyle of his. He loves his job, he loves his stardom. He loves it too much to ever focus on a partner. Believe me, we tried.”

I exhale at the use of her past tense, but then all the other information downs on me. Luke’s life is so much different from mine. While I work several jobs to pay for college and still live with my dad, he lives by himself and tours the world. He’s too busy to start anything serious with me. Whatever happened in the last few days was just temporary.

“You seem sweet, y/n, so I’m going to be frank. Get out before it’s too late. You’re only gonna get hurt if you’re gonna stay.” As she passes me, she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

If my brain wasn’t going a mile a second about everything she’s telling me, I would be caught off guard by how sweet Carrie Wilson is. She’s always portrayed as this complete ego-centric bitch who used people to her advantage.

The exhaustion taking over, I shuffle back upstairs and sit down on Luke’s bed but when I hear the commotion outside die down and guitar strums float through the air into the house, I grow curious. I get up from the bed and make a beeline towards the ceiling-to-floor glass doors that give out onto a balcony. I carefully open the door and step out, the summer breeze tickling my skin while Luke’s voice reaches my ears.

The balcony looks out onto the garden, it’s just out of sight from where everyone’s huddled up around the band. I lean my elbows on the bannister and watch on as Luke’s voice floated through the air.

“I'm no superman I can take your hand And fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah I can read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you wanna hear, but I'll be your hero”

I smile at the memory of us in the studio yesterday. The last few days have been perfect. Just… Perfect. And now this girl has to come and ruin it by pulling me back into reality.

“Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be a hero Oh, I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero”

It’s not that Carrie isn’t right. She is. Luke is way too busy with the band and his fame and everything around it. He doesn’t have time or room between those things for me. Not for an ordinary girl. Not for anyone.

“So incredible Some kinda miracle That when it's meant to be, I'll become a hero, oh So I'll wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

Luke’s eyes meet mine as he hits that high note and his mouth curls up into that beautiful smile I’ve come to love. Once again, I’ve fallen in love with someone who would never reciprocate those feelings. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to get hurt.

“Yeah I'll be a hero Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me I'll be a hero Yeah, yeah I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero Hero”

As the last notes of his song ring out into the night, I grab my still wet clothes and my keys Luke left on the dresser, and then leave the house. My heart breaks with every step I take, but I know it’s what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for both of us. There’s no room for me in his life. Like he said, he’s no superman, he can’t handle this many things at once. Not even a hero would be able to.

Everything taglist:

@wanniiieeee @phantompogues

JATP taglist:

@hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @charliesmountains @thedarkqueenofavalon @calamitykaty @caitsymichelle13 @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @stellasmusa @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @crybabyddl @headheartbellarke @authentic-gillespie @happinessinthedarkesttimes @bright-molina @rangerelik @cordeliascrown @willex-owns-my-heart @fangirlangioma @frickin-bats @flower-name @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jandthephantoms @kelpwithawhy @the-hufflepuff-hunter @lookingthroughmirrors @buckybarnesishot310 @echocharm17618 @littlemissaddict @mystic-writings @joynerxmercer @brooke0297 @magicalxdaydream @musicianspiritsblog @bexxy @ruvaitkevicius @whitetigerlover17 @stressyanddepressysimp @talk-on-the-street @theolivekiddo @sunsetcurvej @teti-menchon0604 @candycornmgg @gray_jato

Charlie/Luke taglist:

@lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans @rachmmb @whitemanshoe19 @killerqueenfan

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatpsongficfeb #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke jatp #luke patterson x fem!reader #modern!au #StarStruck

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hollowaymason1995 · 4 years

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Cat Spray Products Eye-Opening Diy Ideas

The only solution for cat diabetes and hyperthyroidism.My daughter fell in love with you as you can.You know best about the location of the ear.Even when they are hiding somewhere on the nature of a water pistol or spray it on them.

Be patient and don't worry - you're not satisfied with a flea trap to catch your cat can really make a break at highway rest stops, I let her out of doors, it's natural instincts are to you.It is irresponsible for us and that's when they are paired together to produce an average bedroom sized area approximately 12-15 times per hour.If that's not what's wrong with your kitten to become depressed and wasn't eating.Cats love to know why cats do not spend much of their litter boxChin acne from plastic can often attack the boards with their claws, mark territory, stretch their front paws.

When a pet carrier carton or you just aren't acting normally, be sure to provide a durable, sisal covered scratching post may seem inconvenient, cats can sometimes get out of ponds and shallow streams with their claws to keep your furnishings in good condition and you must make sure that your pets in the home.Both of these pests will make the mistake of dumping the new type.This will help to solve your cat's bad behavior.Not only can he use his own litter box is simply lifted out and the most important questions to ask permission from a variety of scratching on furniture and equipment, and finally the worst case, you should use those means while your cats helps to naturally shed old nails.These hairs go into a clean rag in it to give them a good thing, for several days.

There would be like someone had spent a great exercise companion.Royal Canin offers products suitable for the new litter of kittens.If your textures are brown, the scratches won't be good with other cats.In most cases fleas will wash out whenever you see your cat has sprayed, clean it easily with plain water or sprays to avoid feeding your cat is having difficulty with urination, this could create anxiety and they are very different one from another.Some people recommend the use of baking soda, water, a dash of ordinary dish washing liquid, and a cat in the mess.

When out of a heavy infestation, others get a mat-free coat.Neighbors added another two traps to the occasional and sometimes around the house spreading her scent around to everywhere that the asthma in cats just like you can simply toss the entire house smell fragrant.If you catch your cat to never have to get her supper.Neighbors added another two traps to the toilet when more aggressive cats first- Meal times in a spray bottle, add tap water from a cat's nature, and if you want to comb out excess fur gently, to help keep them in much the same respect, reassurance, and time are going to mark their territory by spraying urine-although a pet misbehaves, you just fish out of their natural environment inside, sans mice. Never let cats fight with it is best to add one in the pads of their energy that they are doing this to spray the cats as well.

What to do this to dry in a product that contains ammonia and mercaptans making the cat world, cats are indoor cats have existed for more than other breeds of cats are nowhere to be in his room is open for him to go back into the house, so the actual trimming.Should you get all the activity outdoors.Initially the cat for the overwhelming cat urine stains and odors is by preventing the problem to a simple and inexpensive, and the floor and when distended with blood are dark brown black, looking like a flag-pole-a grand expression of excitement that cannot be washed.* Neutered cats run the palm of your cats diet, sex and age, can leave a visible mark without actually tearing the furniture that may react aggressively isolated from other cats pregnant.Some owners have a cat can detect a mouse or bird.

Urochrome is the basis for short periods of time.Two male cats that have the skin and shaking her are just hanging around your garden.You can also be used for training your cat.As a last resort you could buy a new type of light is used the cat now for two years and were best pals.Although there are several cat scratch my furniture?

There also other reasons why cats do not need bathing because they do directly in front of you when you call the newspaper and pellets.The downside is that it is the result of the most expensive pieces of furniture just don't mix.Therefore, you need to be taken back in his face.Instead of scolding kitty afterward, catch her in there for a disease.Anybody who's ever had a walled-in patio, but my client cleared off a scent and making a purchase of this condition, it is full, then you should consider:

Flea Cat Spray

The three main components: consistency and repetition. If the animal at the behavior brings a small area of the day.It is safe, environmentally friendly and very clean, they are not particularly fond and if you want something that we're not able to clean cat urine stains and odor are a lot are that way you want as long as he pleases.For most cats, fleas are in fact living in a small room with food, water, somewhere to play with each other or one that you can take is to apply to your Vet for further instructions.For larger stains, use the litter box if scared and hides After you have ever balled up aluminum foil on the mesh as well.

Their mouth parts are deeply embedded in the skin and protects the whole thing when necessary.Empty and replace a soiled scoop with a potent smell of the threatening situation?Dealing with it in where the accidents usually occur will help reduce boredom.Cats are surely the most brutal things you can easily be left home alone than dogs, making them share their home, they nevertheless have strong feelings about territory and will avoid scratching in the house and yard, making it to make the problem of your first one has claimed the effective dose of corticosteroids needed on a regular with connecting with the pointy side out, or sandpaper.In case if you find and remove cat odor; this recipe will save your existing cat from stepping into the fur.

Every year, hundreds of other birds and mice.Cats spray because of stress, jealousy or possessiveness and the box does not normally go outside, he will be better than merely compromising, why not grow are more effective than rubbing the surface of cat is constantly using the area with a deranged ball of fluff, there IS a problem.Particularly if you buy is strong enough to get at it.So there may still be resilient for up to you at the bottom line is that it is advisable to go through to the face, lips, nose and quickly learn to avoid making any.Scratching carpets is one of the litter box, cat urine smells and stains completely get a good option for it since it is the boss

When training our Sid since he was punished for.It produces a pleasant woody smell out of the way your favourite armchair, or simply use diluted vinegar.You should also be used such as vomiting or diarrhea.Neutering a male cat whose territory is being shredded.Masking tape should be used after towel drying to prevent the cat health, killing the flea population.

He paid 25.00 to adopt another one as well.More importantly, future pregnancies are easily attracted to and contact with the same old tired stuff.What they leave behind can be taken orally or sprays handy.Suddenly changing kitty litter also cause allergic reactions.Then I spent time with the Christmas season every year.

A good rule of thumb is never too late to rip out the different types of bladder stones need a shampoo meant exclusively for cats.A pet cat loved punching fang holes into my pet's face.One of which you will also be thinking of adopting another one.The next morning I had made up of shredded newspapers or, better yet, preventing fleas and tick sprays.Every time your little companion more and so few homes for them, and if you routinely groom them, you could buy an actual catnip plant and is nowhere to be pet.

Cat Spraying What Is It

What is known, however, is banned in some way that works or not your cat is comfortable being brushed, do her dance.Make sure the box itself once you understand your cat's smelly ordeal.If you do have a small injection at the top with metal pots and pans.There are soooo many different suppliers as possible.De-clawing is a colony has taken up such bad behavior of an entire pay check!

I am confident if you are going to be a house by yourself at home.Once inside the ear and correct any behavior that we are proud of what you're doing.It will take longer to let the cat of the behavior is to get you angry.But though this is the sticky sensation, and many others.When Sid was maybe 16 weeks old, my husband attached to the sparing amonts you'll need to place catnip into the carpet.

#Cat Spray Products Eye-Opening Diy Ideas #How Do You Stop Male Cats From Spraying In The House

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the-second-circle-ffxiv · 4 years

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Proposition

Asagi looked around in a mess of a room she had just casually walked into through an unlocked door. Somewhere deep down she wished that she, too, could still be that carefree. Silke's small apartment was so full of miscellaneous things, that at the first glance it seemed to be chaotic. However, after watching more closely, despite of the amount of things everything was in surprisingly good order. Opposite the door, on the other side of the living room was obviously her personal fortress: a huge, inviting and soft-looking canopy bed accompanied by a gigantic bookshelf that almost touched the roof. It had been crammed full of books, and even then she hadn't managed to fit them all in there. About half of the tomes were either laying on the floor or had been piled next to the shelf. On the right side of the living room the eye-catcher element was definitely a cluster of a small fireplace and an odd, winged sofa alongside a couple of round armchairs. Asagi was just thinking how her usually somewhat unorganized and clumsy sister had matured so much since starting her mage studies and finally reached some level of elegance. Then her gaze moved into the darkest, farthest corner of the room, where an old cupboard slouched both doors open like a drunkard passed out while still sitting in a chair. Bundles of clothes, cleaning tools and who knows what else were hanging from the drawers crammed so full of stuff they couldn't fully close. Shaking her head, Asagi turned to look on the other, tidier side of the room, where Silke had displayed her greatest treasures. A couple of far eastern drawers were almost bending under the weight of all plush toys and figurines on them. Silke liked to travel, and she had a habit of bringing something cute back home from every place she had visited.

Asagi couldn't help but smile when she noticed a happy looking emerald Carbuncle sitting on a round, red pillow and holding a gold coin almost as big as itself. It was very old, but it still looked almost like new. Back in the days when Asagi and Silke had been kids and lived in Kugane, they had gone to fair with their parents and brother. Some old merchant had noticed Silke's greedy stare and they had told the girl such artifacts brought luck. Asagi wasn't sure did she believe in such or not, but Silke couldn't have cared less. She had thought the creature was pretty colored and cute and that was all that mattered. She decided right then and there she wouldn't leave the fair without it.

However, the money their parents had given for the fair had not been enough for the item. Silke had asked for more without success. A heated debate had followed, which Silke had lost. Gracefully she had dropped on the ground and started screaming like a banshee, attracting too much unwanted attention. Their parents had finally bought the damn thing just to avoid possible Sekiseigumi questions about domestic violence. When Asagi's gaze finally ended up into the last corner of the room, a frustrated exclamation wasn't far. It was Silke's desk. The dummy had piled paperwork on it - judging from the amount since the day she had moved into the apartment - and a candelabrum peeked out from the messy mass. It was purely absurd to keep it in such place, and even more with a shiba inu in the house. Damn creature, Asagi thought in passing, while lifting the candelabrum away from the desk and relocating it on one of the drawers. The little red beast wasn't annoying in the same way most of dogs were, who barked at everything, smelled like animals, shed their fur everywhere and were messy in general. No, Laurence von Salem - though Silke and Lareine called him also Lucy for some reason, had way too much fun with it and Asagi had not the slightest clue why - was like people, except he looked like a dog. Just like a few minutes ago, when Asagi had arrived. Normal dogs would've barked their lungs out, dashed to greet her and dropped all nearby movables with their swooshing tail. But no, Laurence had just lazily gotten up from his spot in the living room next to Silke's bed, slowly padded towards the little hallway like he'd own the place and stared at Asagi for a moment while looking like he had just smelled something bad. Then he had apparently decided Asagi wasn't a threat, since he had silently snorted and continued his way into the kitchen, after which Asagi had heard rippling of water before it had become silent again. He hadn't come back though. It was probably cooler in the kitchen. Bah, enough of recollection, Asagi thought to herself. She took a couple of steps next to the couch where Silke was laying in a half sitting position, facing towards the fireplace and neck bent in such an unnatural way it almost hurt just to look at.

"Hey, sis", Asagi said, poking her sister carefully. "Can I sit down for a while, or are you busy?" Silke flinched and turned to look at Asagi, dazed. Her long, black hair was unkempt and glasses tilted. She was wearing one of her pompous robes, as usual. It was rare to see her in a more casual outfit. The girl just loved robes. "Oh, hi!" Silke exclaimed and glanced around like not being completely sure about her surroundings. "Yeah, by all means", she giggled awkwardly and then added: "I think I just fell asleep." "You should seriously sleep for a change... have you pulled an all-nighter with those books of yours again?" Asagi asked accusingly and took a seat next to Silke, reaching out towards her and gently fixed her glasses. Silke rolled her eyes with dark circles around them. "Not my fault they make books so interesting. And I gotta say I hate schedules. There ain't enough hours in a day for me to do stuff, I swear." She became more serious all of a sudden. "But oh, you got me interested. This must be something very important for you to leave your work and drop by." Her sleepy gaze focused a bit. "Maybe one day you'll find a way to add more hours into your day... as an archmage and all that", Asagi noted smiling, but let her expression quickly fade away. "And well... it's about my work. I do not know who to talk to, but you are all I have so... Silke, what would you say if I told you I have hit a mid-life crisis?" There was a short silence. Silke's eyes widened for a moment while she was staring at Asagi in disbelief. Then she burst out laughing, but soon after noticing Asagi's darkening expression she forced herself to stop and coughed awkwardly. "Eh... what? Why? Wait... Does this have something to do with that new hair color of yours?" It was Asagi's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, go on and laugh, you silly little gremlin", she snapped playfully. "I mean... I have been thinking. What do I have? The bar... yes. But it's all there is. And honestly: the recent accident with the drunkard made me wonder. Is it all even worth it? Day after day I'm stuck inside those red walls. Seeing the same old faces. Hearing the same dry stories time after time. I have started to see myself as I will be when I grow old: a bitter woman, wiping puke off the table."

Silke listened closely while nodding rapidly. "Hm, well... I don't think other occupations are any more exciting", she pondered, rolling her hair around her finger. "Less risky they may be, but... My professors for example. Their job looks exciting from a student’s point of view, but I've thought of what it's like to them. Same old routine day by day, teaching students at days and fixing paperwork at evenings and nights. I think all regular occupations are like that in the end, after the first charm has worn off. You just gotta pick a career of which routines you like the most." Asagi couldn't do anything but to stare at her for a moment. Silke was usually so cheerful, but this was probably the most depressing thing she had ever said. And it made the whole thing even more depressing, that Asagi thought she was right. "At least you have choices", Asagi notified. "You don't have to become a professor. You can use your knowledge in so many ways. Maybe you can become a seer in a royal court. A mercenary... Maybe a researcher of old. Only the sky is the limit with your talent, Silke. Don't even think about locking yourself into some dusty, old office!" While Silke was frowning, Asagi let out a long sigh. "For me, though... I don't want to say this... but I don't know what to do. Time to time I find myself just thinking about burning the whole shit down." Silke tilted her head, frowning even more. She lifted her feet alongside a pair of moogle slippers from the floor and turned around so that she was facing Asagi completely, sitting cross-legged. "Huh? How are those royal seers or mercenaries any different then?" she started to grill. "They have their own routines as well." She rolled her eyes once again. "Personally I don't have a clue what you're talking about. I've always thought your occupation is interesting. It includes more risks than ordinary duties, but that's about the only thing I don't like about it."

Asagi leaned her back onto the sofa's comfy curve while crossing her legs. "Well, at least days would be different. But I guess you are right", she admitted.

If Silke of all people thought her occupation interesting, it couldn't be too bad after all. All those poor souls depended on her. Sure, most of them were drunkards, but despite of some bad choices of life, deep down they were just ordinary folk. One usually had a very good reason to grab a bottle. Asagi couldn't deny her bar was a peerless way to gather information, both for herself and her customers. She also had her doubts of being on the game for so long it might actually be close to impossible to step out from the shadows without dragging them along with her. "And it's bringing food to the table", Asagi added after a short while. "I'm proud of what I've achieved. But you see... I never see you for example. I miss the old days in Kugane. We used to do a lot together. Now it's just... Bah, look at me being all sentimental! I think I'm finally starting to drop the ball for good." "Now that you mention it, I'd like to see you more often, too", Silke noted, smiling. "But I don't think there's another bar in Foundation area like yours. And no, I'm totally not including Forgotten Knight! Imagine all those poor folk who'd have no longer a place to go and have fun in if you quit. But honestly, if you're feeling bored, what is stopping you from changing careers? What would you rather like to do?" "That... is a good question", Asagi pondered. "Anything connected to magic is off limits. My magic is way too unstable as it is. My blade? Years have made me rusty, and I don't want to risk my life again." "Of course your skills will get rusty if you don't do anything with them for a long time", Silke notified. "If you want to live by the sword again, all you need to is to pick it up and start using it. Geez..." Asagi had been thinking about it herself as well, but she had ended up into a conclusion it was too big of a risk and could lead into another mistake way too easily. And perhaps this time she would lose more than just an eye. "Nah", she said and couldn't help but smile. "I want to make sure I stay alive and see you becoming an archmage. And maybe get married. Then I could be the uptight aunt Asagi." "You?" Silke exclaimed, eyes round with horror. "Married?" She burst out laughing uncontrollably. "As if!"

Asagi blinked, her mouth hanging ajar. Before she was able to regain her voice, Silke suddenly stopped laughing and slowly turned to look at her. "Wait... Does this mean you actually have someone you like?!" "No! What?! No!" Asagi cried out. "I was talking about you anyway!" "Oh." "But speaking of which: why do you find me getting married so impossible of an idea?! You are hurting my soul, sister..." Asagi turned away from her dramatically. Silke puckered up her lips, and the tips of her ears started to droop a bit. "Meh... And here I was getting all excited for you." Then she sighed deeply and looked away. "You should know by now. I'm not interested in relationships, even less getting married. It's too much work and takes too much time. I've had my share of dating partners who've been jealous of my studies or my hobbies, or even magic itself! Relationships feel like someone tying a leash around my neck and tugging me all the time, telling me to stop doing what I love the most and give them attention instead. There's no way I could live like that. Ugh...", she rubbed her temples, eyes squeezed shut. "My brain starts to hurt just by thinking about it. Let's not talk about me." Asagi wasn't sure what she should've said. She found it extremely hard to believe there would've been anyone in the whole world fitting to be her own lifemate. She had also noticed she shared her sister's problem: she wanted a partner who wouldn't make her feel like she was trapped. If such a miracle were to happen, she would - by all means - welcome it. But still she thought the mere chance was low in astronomical proportions. Thus she wanted Silke at least to experience it, but so far it seemed she was following in Asagi's footsteps. She couldn't keep anyone for long, and wasn't even sure did she truly want it. Silke wiped the melancholic expression from her face like a pinch of dust from a table, and in an instant it was replaced by her more familiar, impish grin. "As far as I've watched other people's relationships from afar, there seems to be awfully lots of people who're seeking... ya know... the princess type, who they can protect or something like that. You couldn't be a princess even if your life depended on it, no offense!" Silke started to laugh again. Asagi smirked playfully and reached out to pinch Silke's ear. She let out a surprised squeal and yanked her ear away. "Here I was just teasing you, but you are shooting me with actual poisoned arrows!" Asagi proclaimed. "How dare you? I can be a delicate princess if I want to! Anyway, I guess you are right. I will just keep doing what I do. And maybe try working a bit less and seeing you more. I'm... kind of worried about you anyway." "Worried about me? Why?" Silke repeated, frowning slightly. "I haven't even blown anything up lately. Is that what worries you? If that's the case, it's easily fixed." If it had been something so simple, Asagi certainly wouldn't have had any need to talk about it. She had been postponing this discussion for as long as she had been able to, but lately she had started to feel she should've said something much earlier. "You are spending quite a lot of time time with that experiment girl", Asagi finally stated. "You hardly see people, and when you do, it's that... what does she call herself? Lareine? Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you have found a friend. But you know what I mean." Silke tilted her head again. "Experiment girl?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Yes, her name is Lareine. She happens to be the only person who has enough spare time in her hands to see me when I'm able to go out. And what's even more important: she doesn't annoy me, like most of other people." Asagi let out a drawn-out sigh, looking at the flames dancing in the fireplace. "She's not right in the head. She is an outcome of what that man did to a poor woman. I may see him in different light these days, but I'm afraid this Lareine is just pulling you closer to Blacksoul. You will end up being an experiment as she is." Asagi hadn't been completely honest when she had told Varg she didn't care about the rumors about him. In a way it was true - while no one she knew was involved with the man in any way. However, it was completely another matter when Silke of all people had started to spend her time in such questionable company. Silke made a gesture with her hand like shooing away a fly. "Pff, oh please. This is probably the most ridiculous thing I've heard all week. You're being mean now." Silke obviously tried to keep a brave face on, but Asagi still noticed that strange hue in her sister's eyes she always had when someone had been poking her into the wrong place. "Lareine has been through so much shite it's no wonder it has left its mark", Silke started to speak formally like she'd been addressing an audience. "She's one of those few people who actually like to have me around and who doesn't think I'm crazy. Would you like me to rather hang out with my classmates? The normal ones? The ones who're bored during classes, who badmouth professors behind their back, who call me a nerd because I actually like to study..." Silke's voice was dripping with bitterness. She inhaled deeply and continued: "I've always wanted to ask them why do they even bother going to school if they don't want to be there. It's not even a grade school anymore, it's completely optional! No one is forcing them!" She shook her head, trying to regain at least some of her composure. "About Grumpy, I mean, the old man Varg-Varg... you're just being paranoid, dear sis. He may appear intimidating, sure, but in reality he's just an ordinary dude and totally under Lareine's slipper. He's not interested in me in any way. He probably wouldn't even want me visiting there." When Silke finally stopped talking, she was slightly out of breath. Asagi remained silent for a while, studying her. She certainly hadn't wanted to make her this upset. She wasn't sure did Silke know about it, but few months back Asagi had marched to Varg's door and demanded him to leave Silke alone. Back then Asagi had been certain he had lied when he had said he had no clue what she was talking about and told her to put her sister on a leash or something, so that she wouldn't stray into his house anymore. "...I'm sorry, sis. You are right", Asagi admitted finally. "You're a grown up woman. Just promise me to keep your eyes open, okay?" "Don't I always?" Silke asked, glancing at Asagi, sounding a bit tired. "Every time someone has tried something shady with me, they've ended up burning themselves..." Her eyes unfocused for a moment. She was either thinking very rapidly or wasn't thinking at all. Then she turned to look at Asagi again. "Perhaps you should join me next time I go visit them?" Asagi blinked. "J... join you? To Blacksoul Manor?" she broke into a giggle. "Oh, Varg would love that for sure!" She wasn’t certain was the suggestion either genius or plain stupid. If Varg didn't want either of them around, it would've been best to stay away. But Silke and Lareine were best friends, and Asagi had only heard good things about the butler, Arsene, who seemed to be delighted when he had guests to serve. It couldn't be good for Lareine either to spend her days alone in that grim, old estate. If she was important to Silke, and she wanted to keep her close, Asagi would certainly help her with it. "I may consider", Asagi agreed finally. "Maybe it's good time for me to pull my head out of a wine barrel. I guess I have been so drowned into my work I have not even noticed you growing up... You are hardly the same girl who got in trouble on the streets of Kugane. And what am I? Your mother? Bah... I'm not the one to tell you what to do." Silke shrugged and grinned. "I don't want you to worry, and I want to show you there actually is nothing to worry. What would be a better way than facing your doubts head on? Besides, grandpa Arsene is the best cook I've ever met. His skill may even rival our dad's. You haven't truly lived until you've tasted his stuff." "I guess that's an offer I can't refuse", Asagi giggled. "If someone is competing with dad in cooking, I have to see it with my own eyes. Tell me when you are going over, and I shall find some time. But talking about work...", Asagi got up from the couch and ruffled Silke's already messed up hair. "My shift is about to start. I will see you later, okay? Thanks for listening to my ramblings." Silke yawned and stretched her limbs, but didn't get up. "Haa, I’m glad I was able to be of help. I think I'm gonna try and sleep some more. Keep your eyes open at work as well, sis!" "I will." While walking towards the hallway, Asagi glanced over her shoulder and saw a petite, pale hand waving at her from behind the back rest. Smiling, she turned back towards the door, but then she noticed an eerie silhouette of a shiba inu staring at her in the kitchen doorway. The setting sun created long, sharp rays that cut the view like in far eastern paintings. Laurence was standing there, his back against the window, making himself seem like a black figure basking in an explosion of bright, orange light. What a drama queen, Asagi thought to herself, frowning. Laurence strutted closer to her and looked at her accusingly like she'd been a cheap sausage. "Lucyyy~!" Silke yelled from the living room. "C'mere, boy!" In an instant the arrogant expression disappeared from the dog's face and suddenly he was beaming as happily as the sun itself. His tightly curled tail started to wag rapidly but clumsily as he dashed into the living room so eagerly he was about to slip. Silently, Asagi opened the door and stepped outside. Before closing it, she could still hear Silke babbling at the dog in a high-pitched tone: "Whooza good boy? You are and you know it, don’t ya? Yes, yes~" --- With @lareine-kira :3c

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #viera #rp #storytime #silke doomflare #asagi homura

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fansplaining · 6 years

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Transcript: Episode 74: Ask Fansplaining Anything: Part 1

(episode | show notes)

[Intro music: “Awel” by Stefsax]

Flourish Klink: Hi, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth Minkel: Hi, Flourish.

FK: And welcome to Fansplaining, the podcast by, for, and about fandom!

ELM: This is Episode 74, "Ask Fansplaining Anything Part 1."

FK: Right. And spoiler, the "part 1" is not because we're going to be doing "part 2" for our next episode, it's because this episode is a bunch of listener letters and voicemails and we will someday probably do another episode like this in the future. We're not sure when.

ELM: We definitely will, we committed to it, we called this Part 1, there has to be a Part 2.

FK: Right. But it will be like...you know.

ELM: It can't be like, you know when you're saying a sentence and you're like, "There are a few reasons why we can't do this, A..." something something something, and B never comes. We're not gonna be like that.

FK: It's like reading a serial fanfic and there's a Chekov's gun moment and by the end they've forgotten about it and you're like oh, I guess you were writing this serially. Oops.

ELM: Oh, yeah. Does this happen to you a lot? Do you notice this a lot?

FK: Just a couple of times I've noticed it, where it's like...this didn't actually come back around.

ELM: Just a statement that was made at some point. Yeah.

FK: Yeah, and it would be...in normal novel writing process this would be edited out but because you wrote it serially it's not going to be and that's fine. No hate on those people. But.

ELM: That's part of the risks of writing serially!

FK: Exactly.

ELM: Yeah. So for context, obviously every episode we ask people to send their thoughts. So a lot of people do and sometimes we put them aside and say "we'll answer that eventually" and then they sit there for months at a time because we're delinquents. So a few of these are relatively recent, a few of them are a bit older and a million apologies if your ask has been languishing. We're getting to it now!! And I'm really sorry about that. [laughing] Usually the stuff we set aside too is stuff that we wanna thoughtfully answer, that's why, we don't just dash off an answer.

FK: We're like "yeah, we'd like to do that, but we should wait till we have lots of time to address this" and then we're like oh, shit.

ELM: And it's buried in the Tumblr drafts among the 8000 things we have queued up or whatever. So we're gonna talk about this and hopefully it won't be too long before we answer the other ones that are sitting in our box.

FK: Alright. Well. All that having been said, shall we get on with it and read some letters?

ELM: Yeah. What's our first topic?

FK: The first topic is fan tourism, based on our fan tourism episode. We've still got some of that lingering in our inbox, so.

ELM: People love fan tourism.

FK: Alright. The first letter is from Ruth. "Hi Flourish, hi Elizabeth, I have one more thought following your episode on fan tourism and Stephanie's letter on your Lori Morimoto episode. As she points out, New Zealand is not Middle Earth and Oxford is not Hogwarts. Of course if you really want to see Tolkien's old stomping ground, you really need to go to...Oxford. The film adaptations of these books have set up associations with the wrong places, but then given that neither Middle Earth nor Hogwarts really exists, what is the right place to go to be a fan tourist? Sometimes the real locations can feel like a letdown after what we've seen onscreen. The pubs of Oxford and the surrounding countryside won't seem very Middle Earthy after you've seen the Peter Jackson films. Keep up the good work, Ruth."

ELM: So I can say from personal experience, New Year's Day 2014, my friend and I were feeling kind of glum and we had lunch at the Eagle and Child, which is the pub where the Tolkien's...

FK: The Inklings. Also known as the Bird and Baby. [meaning the pub is called that]

ELM: Is that what they call it?

FK: Yeah, it's a whole thing. The Bird and Baby.

ELM: Cause my friend lived just around the corner and we were like sure, why not. I don't know. It was a very depressing New Year's Day, England in January, anyone who lived there understands, and we made the mistake of sitting at the table right in front of the display pictures and things like that. So during our depressing meal we had multiple tourists come and try to take pictures over our heads and it was like, "we can move if you want" and they were like "no it's OK." So I hope people appreciate us in those photos.

FK: I hope so too! [ELM laughing] I hope so too. No, I mean, I think that this is a good point. One of the things about this is that fiction takes us in our minds to a place that doesn't exist in the world, also. The heightened...I feel like we talked about this a bit in the Fan Tourism episode, King's Cross station not feeling like Harry Potter to me. Even though it's so important in Harry Potter. Of course, that's to be expected. And that's actually a case where literally it's written into Harry Potter and yet it didn't feel like that for me.

ELM: That's interesting because it feels right for me and I think it probably feels right for any Londoner.

FK: Yeah, absolutely, because that's what they envisioned, because they knew what it was like before.

ELM: And know what it feels like to be there and get a train...so it's as if you were not reading it in the way it was...you know. She also wrote it thinking of the wrong train station, famously. You know this?

FK: No!

ELM: There's no...because of the way the tracks are laid out, I believe it's tracks 1 through 8 are in the main section and then there's another section. I don't know if this is still true, cause it was under construction for years while they were fixing up St Pancras.

FK: But she was thinking of a different one where there could be a 9 and Three Quarters.

ELM: I believe she was thinking of Manchester. Train station. It was one of the northern train stations. There was no way for there to be a wall between 9 and 10, and so that's why if you go now you'll see it's just next to the Warner Brothers shop, which is next to the ticket office, you know? It's a big open space but yeah. So the first time that I ever went to Kings Cross was maybe 15 years ago, and it was under construction, and someone had just tacked up a sign near Platform 9 that was like "here it is!" [all laugh] Like, people just...and I like that a lot more than what's happening now cause it feels very commercial now. That felt kind of, not a sell out, you know?

FK: [laughing] I do know and I think that...I think that maybe the point of this is I don't think there is ever a "appropriate" place to be a fan tourist or an inappropriate place. I mean not like being an asshole to somebody, don't do that, don't go to a place where you're gonna be a jerk as a tourist, but I don't know, I think that people's relationships with locations and their imaginations of things in books is very personal and I think that that's...I think it's OK to not, to go and not have something be what you imagined it.

ELM: Sure! Yeah!

FK: Disappointing, but I think it's fine. It can be. It's all right that I have a complicated relationship to King's Cross. That's fine!

ELM: Would you characterize it as a complicated relationship?

FK: Well it's not THAT complicated. [ELM laughing] As complicated as any relationship could be to that! But you know what I'm saying. It's fine. It's not a failure that that wasn't what I imagined, and it's not a failure on its part either.

ELM: I think it's just...it's hard with books because you can...and that's the moment when you went there, you might have realized oh, I didn't really understand. Not necessarily oh, she didn't explain it as well as she could have, but you were like I jumped to conclusions in my head or whatever. And that can be very surprising, but it doesn't matter! The Kings Cross in your head can be right too! I feel like I'm channelling that Dumbledore scene at the end. It's all in your mind, Flourish!

FK: But it's also like meeting a celebrity that you idolized and discovering that they're short.

ELM: Wow, are you being heightist?

FK: I'm not being heightist, it's just that as a tall person I envision everyone as my height until I see them and discover that they're short next to me. And then I'm always like, wait.

ELM: Were you the one who thought Danny DeVito was a regular height, or...?

FK: No, I would never think that but I love the idea that somebody could.

ELM: It was you and another tall person on Twitter and I was like, you guys know, do you think Danny DeVito... Danny DeVito is four foot eleven, I think legally...

FK: Yeah but you know what I mean. It's not that you have a vision in your head of this person. They're not that. But it's fine. OK. Shall we listen to the next thing, which is in fact listening cause it's a voice mail?

ELM: Voice mail!

FK: VOICE MAIL! Thank you. This is from Katie and thank you Katie for leaving us a voice mail, it is amazing.

Katie: Hey Flourish, hey Elizabeth! My name is Katie and I'm really excited to be leaving a voice mail. This is a really cool thing that you guys do because I love talking way more than I love writing and I love writing quite a bit! So I've just finished catching up on some of your episodes, and I just listened to the Fan Tourism one, which I really really enjoyed, but I just wanted to talk a little bit about the fan tourism that I'm about to do in about two weeks.

I'm going to Tulsa Oklahoma which sounds crazy but that is the birthplace of the three Hanson brothers! And every year we do a thing in the fandom called Hanson Day, it's in the middle of May every year, where pretty much the entire fan base goes to Tulsa, so the city is kind of overrun with lots and lots of Hanson fans, and they do some shows and there's different activities but the main thing that we do is kind of all get together in order to hang out. Which I think is pretty much the coolest thing about this weird fandom that I'm a part of, which is the Hanson fandom.

So basically it's just about four or five days where we all get together and hang out and see the city where they're from, we do their studio, and it's just a really cool behind the scenes situation that I don't think a lot of music fandoms get, and I mean, I know from being a part of huge music fandoms that that is very very specific to the Hanson experience. And I'm just really excited about it, and I think it's a cool thing that we get to explore as their fans. Anyway, I love you guys, I love this podcast, I listen as much as I possibly can, and I think you're awesome. Keep doin what you're doin. Bye!

FK: I really liked hearing about this because it was almost the in-between...when we were talking about fan tourism, fan conventions, Elizabeth, you were just in a convention center, and so maybe that was too sterile and it could be anywhere and the only thing about that is other people and it's not really tourism, and it seems like this is kind of...this is kind of in between that. It's a place that is associated with the band but it sounds from what Katie's saying that the experience is more about being with other fans. There is a tourism experience, but the main thing that makes it special is about the fandom, and I think that's really cool.

ELM: Absolutely. And to clarify especially with conventions and my experience with them, the ones where the convention...the hotel and the convention bit are in the same space, it's that people are not...barely leaving the building. You know?

FK: Totally.

ELM: Especially in the summer, that kind of thing. So it's impossible for me to think "oh, this is really..." Even if it was in the town that your television show is set or something. If you just stay in the convention center...unless your show is set at a convention center.

FK: Oh that would be amazing.

ELM: Why hasn't anyone pitched this!

FK: It's funny because the...you know, there's actually a YA novel out now called "The Pros of Cons" which is in part based on an experience at a convention that I ran, which we should read and talk about maybe.

ELM: Why have you never mentioned this before?

FK: I don't know, I didn't realize I hadn't!

ELM: All right! Well.

FK: Anyway, as we talked about a bunch of things recently I realized one of the reasons why I was so into the idea that conventions could be fan tourism, is because a lot of the conventions I went to had a lot more of that tourism incorporated in them. Going to the Harry Potter park as part of the convention, or once a convention we held was in Salem Massachusetts and the point was to go and do all the American witch history...

ELM: Such an American, Flourish.

FK: Yeah well whatever though right? This was at a time when lots of people were imagining what the American Hogwarts might be like, and that was the point of being in Salem.

ELM: Little did they know...

FK: Yeah, little did they know.

ELM: That it was gonna be in the proper Massachusetts, not the stupid end of the state, but the good end of the state. Get ready. You wanna have a Massachusetts fight? Cause you look like you're gonna throw down right now.

FK: [laughing] I'm not going to throw down, I was just amazed that you were the first person I know who is not actually from that end of the state who has made this assertion.

ELM: Well, I went to college in Western Massachusetts so I did live there for four years and my hometown is less than...probably about a half an hour drive to the border. So obviously I'm gonna defend Western Mass.

FK: You are kind of from there.

ELM: But I don't dislike Boston, but I do think that Boston thinks that the rest of the state cares about it, and I just want to clarify right now that Western Mass is not worried about Boston.

FK: Boston thinks that a lot of people care about it that don't care about it at all.

ELM: [laughs] That's true. But it doesn't even need to be said for something like New York. I know. This came up when the Ilvermorny thing came out and people were doing all these Boston headcanons. "Do they take the T to the..." and I was like, This is in the fuckin' Berkshires! Are you serious! [laughing]

FK: I remember these discussions. We don't need to go further into it.

ELM: They take the bus to Albany!! It's the closest city! [laughing] Oh man. You want me to write about the Albany wizarding scene? Cause I could do that for you.

FK: You know what's horrifying I've been to the train station in Albany so many times and now I'm forced to imagine that there's Albany Harry Potter trains and I'm horrified.

ELM: I know it only seems like there's the two tracks but there's a secret magic track that you probably don't know about cause you're not from the area.

FK: Alright, we need to move on. [all laughing] The next ask...

ELM: New topic, new topic! So I believe this was an anonymous ask on Tumblr. We got this awhile that so you're one of the people we're apologizing to for the delay.

"This isn't so much a question as something I've been thinking about. Recently I was having a discussion with my father about the difference between Civil War Reenactors and the SCA." Pause, that's the Society for Creative Anachronism. I just learned about this. We'll explain that in a second. So it continues, "I mostly think of transformative works in the form of fanfic and fan art, but I started to think about the SCA in that light too, because they're not just reenacting the same battle, they're taking bits of history and making things, like arts and crafts and fights too. Love your guys' podcast!" Thanks! I'm saying thanks to that bit. And thank you for writing in! So tell me about the SCA.

FK: So the SCA is a group of people who like to get together and be creatively anachronistic. And basically what this means is they do anachronistic...

ELM: Anachronistic, to clarify, if people don't know what that means, anachronistic means something that is temporally incorrect, I would say. Like if you were wearing jeans, if you time traveled to the 1600s and you had a pair of jeans on.

FK: Right. And the SCA is into the medieval period, but kind of as I understand it, and I am not myself an SCA person so SCA people please correct me, but as I understand it they're not so...when someone attends an SCA event they dress up in a particular time period and place, but someone else might be from a slightly different time period and place. One person is, this is from 1300, and the other person is from 1400, and they're very...one of them's Dutch and the other one is from somewhere in the Middle East and they are doing a very, they're attempting historical accuracy for the point that they're in, but this other person is doing historical accuracy for the point that they're in, and then they meet up in this big meetup and they joust.

ELM: OK but it wouldn't be like, I went and wanted to pick and choose parts of my outfit, some from 14th century...

FK: I don't think that would be appreciated.

ELM: Or steampunk it.

FK: I think there are people who like steampunk who are also in the SCA but I don't think that's part of the SCA scene.

ELM: So you need to be internally consistent but you all get together in this vague general long middle ages.

FK: Right, and then there's also these different kingdoms, these areas of the country which are ruled by courts and people are elected to the courts as members of the group and they get together and enact battles, which are not historical battles, they're fantasy battles but they're historically accurate kind of fantasy battles. So it's this interesting place between historical reenactment and have some medieval inspired fiction.

ELM: That's interesting. So it's interesting that this also sprung up as the asker talking with their father about the difference between that and civil war reenactment, which is...civil war reenactment...for non Americans, I feel like civil war reenactment probably does get a lot of people outside of the US have probably encountered this concept via American pop culture. But basically people reenact battles from the Civil War.

FK: And it's also I think, interesting, because everywhere in different areas of the country, people reenact...do historical reenactments. Where I grew up there was, near Sutter's Fort [in California] where gold was found, there were these Pioneer Days where people would go and reenact, I took part in some of them.

ELM: Did you shout things like "I'm prospectin' for goooooold!" Did you sound like a prospector?

FK: No. I was mostly a child, and so my job had to do with doing a lot of chores. And having a backstory.

ELM: I think it was 5th grade we had to do a poster for history day or whatever and I chose to do it on women in the gold rush. Women made a shitload of money!

FK: They did make a shitload of money! Women made a ton of money.

ELM: I'm so proud of those ladies! And my mother helped me...

FK: Sell shovels. [laughing]

ELM: It was literally, they were charging extraordinary markup for basic tasks. My mother helped me use a lighter or a match or something, some fire, to make the edges of the poster look worn.

FK: Yeah!! Did you soak it in tea and everything?

ELM: I think we found posterboard that was already kind of mottled and legit. I think I did pretty well on that one. [laughing]

FK: Point is this is common in the US, I don't know how common it is everywhere else, I assume other places also do this historical thing to do with teaching or to do with particular historical sites, but civil war reenactment is a subculture and it's obviously a fraught subculture because the civil war is a fraught issue!

ELM: There are different ideological takes on the civil war and definitely if anyone's involved in these community I would love to be corrected but my understanding from reading about this, it's definitely ways that you can do it that further an ideological narrative that is probably somewhat problematic in framing it as, you know. I don't know. Just tiptoeing around what's going on right now. So...that's tricky.

FK: Right. I think it would be fair to say that there are definitely reenactors who go all the way on the "the South was a lost cause, the glorious South, things were better when there was slavery," all that.

ELM: You're gonna go right there, this is what I was tiptoeing around [laughing]

FK: I'm gonna go right there! Because I think there were some people who are like that and some people who are very much on...

ELM: Historical accuracy.

FK: I'm just a history nerd and this is the most important thing that happened in the town that I'm in so I'm interested in it, you know what I mean. It's a complex issue. Which by the way, this reenactment stuff is still complex in other places. At Sutter's Fort it is not uncomplex to do a reenactment of gold rush settlers showing up and fuckin' up the Miwok. I mean, they didn't...it's not like...

ELM: Do they do that part in the reenactment?

FK: Well, it was an economic...as I understand it it was a long term economic fucking up, so yes, they are reenacting the long term...

ELM: That's harder to reenact.

FK: No it's not, it's easy to reenact cause you have all these people here in this fort engaged in what would be one day of the long term economic fucking up, you know? I think that it is in fact, it's harder to see but it is totally implied in the reenactment, so.

ELM: This is a tricky thing to think about, too. I don't know, did I tell you about the Hitler record that I saw last week?

FK: ...no.

ELM: [laughs] It's haunted me! I discussed it at length with the friend that I saw it with yesterday. I went to this used record faire last weekend and there's thousands of thousands of records and I wasn't playing, I don't have a record player, I was just hangin' out with my friend who was looking for some specific stuff. So flipping through these hundreds of records, idly, I came across one that looked like it had come out in the 60s, I would estimate, from the way the cover looked.

And it was Hitler's speeches, some of them, and it did not look like an archival historical thing. It was clearly certain excerpts of his speeches had been chosen. One of them was Goebbels introduces Hitler, that was one of the tracks, and then there was patriotic Nazi songs. And then there was this blurb on the back that was like, well, obviously this was all very bad. But we must not forget history. And I just thought it was the most halfassed, I just thought, this is incredibly irresponsible and who did they think they were making this for if not for neo-Nazis a few decades after World War 2?

FK: I don't know but I now am really interested to find out what the story is behind this record, because...

ELM: I should google it. If we can find out any information obviously we should put a content warning on this, uh, but we were discussing it a lot and it makes me think about civil war reenactors too or people who engage with history, if there are lines that should be drawn between engaging with history in a fannish way, and what that means, an enthusiastic way. Obviously this is something I've thought about a lot as someone who spent years studying the history of British imperialism. There's definitely on the conservative end of the spectrum of people writing about the British empire, they're writing about it in a reverential "we should go back to that!" kind of thing. Obviously most post colonialists are not, they are critiquing it and saying it was really racist. But you know what I mean?

FK: Totally. I think that there's also...I don't know enough about it but I think that some of these conversations have been really highly relevant in the SCA as people have talked about for instance how you have people dressing up from different parts of the world and how that fits in too, and how to expect and to talk about that and think about it and, yeah. It's further away, so it's less immediate than the Miwok at Sutter's Fort and what...what is that, cause that was literally less than 200 years ago, but it's still a relevant issue.

ELM: Still, these are all the things that...and World War II is obviously more recent than that. I just think that fandom, a lot of...all across all sorts of corners of fandom right now people are getting so wrapped up in talking about the morality of the fictional things that they're into, or the ship that they like, or whatever, and it's really a lot harder when it's real stuff. And you see some of these clashes when it comes to RPF. And that's contemporary...in a way that's the contemporary version of history, right?

If I'm really into, I don't know. I wrote a paper on Charles James Fox, the Whig leader in the late 18th century, back in the day I was really into reading about him. Obviously I've always really liked the Whigs. I think that regular listeners can tell. I think you see it with contemporary RPF conversations where people get really muddled because it's easy enough to say, like, this thing you like, this book is problematic. But it's a lot harder when it's a human or a historical event that happened. Obviously you can say that's problematic but there's no way to erase that. You can just say "don't read that book" but you can't say "oh, this historical event didn't happen," or "this person didn't actually cause this harm" or whatever. You know what I mean? Complicated.

FK: And also the way those things get used or re used as symbols. We talked a little bit about pagan symbols being white nationalist or hippie pagan, but also I studied classics in college and a lot of people I know have different tattoos of things to do with the Roman empire, and those get used by fascists. You know? Again, it's something that's 2000 years old and doesn't mean that in the context of a classicist [laughing] getting a tattoo, but at the same time there can be these moments where you're like "ah fuck," so. This is sort of off the point of the question.

ELM: The Roman empire, so problematic, Flourish.

FK: Can I just say that Cicero is my favorite, favorite awful person?

ELM: Good to have one!

FK: He is, was, an awful person and I love him so much.

ELM: I gotta figure out who my favorite awful person, it's a long list.

FK: Cicero's definitely my number one. OK. Let's keep going.

ELM: Alright, let's see.

FK: That closes out our fan tourism and people being fans together section and the next section is about our alternate universe episode! So this first letter, we got an ask that said something similar to it as well and they were so close that we're just gonna read one, so thank you asker. But here's the letter. And I think we're gonna cut this one down a little because it's pretty long. Hope we cut it down right, Emma.

"Hi Flourish and Elizabeth. I'm a super big fan of Fansplaining, I really appreciate the work you all do and I've learned so much. However I was a little bit taken aback by the recent episode about alternate universe fic. Neither of y'all like to read AU fic according to this ep, which is obviously totally fine, but then the guest on this ep also doesn't particularly read AU, so the episode was mostly about why y'all don't like AU fic. There seemed to be a lot of pondering about why someone might like or even prefer AU fic, but without any real answers because that point of view wasn't represented.

"I think that y'all had lots of good points about the negatives of AU fic, especially modern AU fic. I think it's true that it's more common for characters to feel quite different in a modern AU fic than a canonverse fic. However, I've read canonverse fic where the character or characters felt quite different based on the assumptions made by the specific fic writer, or on a different interpretation of canon events or actions.

"I don't read modern AU fanfic for every fandom I'm in, but I did want to talk about why I read only modern AU fic for one of my fandoms, The 100, just to put that perspective out there. I was a mega-fan of The 100, it was my favorite show. Then Season 3 happened and was a dumpster fire. Normally when a show turns to shit you read fix-it fic and move on, we've all been there, but The 100 was different to me. Season 3 was so shocking, so heartbreaking, so viscerally upsetting, that I couldn't and still can't bring myself to go anywhere near canon. I find it too painful. Modern AU fic allows me to hold on to the characters and relationships I love but discard everything that's upsetting or rests too close to that upsetting material. I also get to stay connected with my friends in the community, even though I no longer watch the show.

"While modern AU fic can feel distant or out of character, I think that it can also serve a purpose and I think that's worth discussing. Thanks for reading! I look forward to listening to the next episode." And that was from Emma.

ELM: OK! So I have a lot of thoughts about this, do you want me to read the second AU letter and then we can talk about all the AU stuff?

FK: Yeah, let's do that. We'll talk about them together.

ELM: "Hi guys. I very much enjoyed the latest episode on AUs, but it sounds like none of you have read idiopathicsmiles' wonderful Les Mis high school AU, 'World Ain't Ready.'" Pause, side note, eight million people have recommended this in the Rec Center. It's incredible. I feel like we should read it just because so many people are into it.

FK: Alright!

ELM: "I highly recommend it. I'm not usually a fan of high school AUs, but 'World Ain't Ready' is one of my all time fave fics in any fandom. You don't need any knowledge of the canon to enjoy it. Like Morgan's fic, it leans into the idea that teenagers are dumb in a very affectionate, relatable way, and it's also hilarious and emotionally affecting and you should definitely go read it. "Incidentally, Les Mis is another fandom that is completely dominated by AUs to the extent that canon era fics need to be tagged as such for people to be able to find them." Wow. "Part of this is due to the..." I said wow, just FYI. [laughs] "Part of this is due to the difficulty of writing fics set in 19th century France, if you don't have the relevant historical knowledge, but I think another factor is the fandom faves..." I never know how to say these guys' names.

FK: Enjolras and Grantaire. I think.

ELM: How would you pronounce...

FK: Enjolras. I think.

ELM: I took French, I don't know why I am having a crisis over these names. Enjolras and... Grantiere?

FK: Grantaire.

ELM: Grantaire! Grantaire. "...have only minor roles in canon and are quite broadly characterized as a pasionate idealist and a drunken cynic respectively. These basic types, and the dynamic between them, are very appealing, especially for stories about social justice and political issues and the lack of detailed characterization in canon makes them easily transplantable into a modern setting and allows fans to fill in additional details however they choose. For instance many writers show Grantaire struggling with mental health issues, which isn't explicitly indicated in canon, though it definitely can be read into it, but it's an idea that a lot of people find compelling and it's something that's easier to deal with in a modern setting than in canon era.

"I think that's a key part of the appeal of AUs generally, the ability to focus on just the aspects the writer's interested in, whether exclusively romance or other things as well and ignoring the complicating factors that may be present in canon.

"Anyway, thanks for reading all my rambling, I hope it makes sense, orangistae." I hope that's how you say it, who is a frequent submitter to the Rec Center, so you are one of my heroes thank you very much orangistae.

FK: My first thing, and I just want to get this out of the way in talking about this, I feel like I must have given the wrong impression in this episode, the AU episode, and suggested that I never like AUs and don't like them at all.

ELM: I was actually taken aback that two people, both the asker and the first email writer, both said that. Maybe it was the impression we gave about high school AUs that led people to think we disliked all AUs? But you talked at length about how you were always there for certain things.

FK: Yeah, but also... I think I must have given the wrong impression and I think you're right that that must have been it. I think if people go back and listen to our Reylo episode, I wrote, I even wrote a whole thing about what are the reasons why I like AUs in that fandom, so I don't know. That's tough. But that said, obviously it was an impression that people had, so I'm glad that people wrote in and said why they liked AUs, because I agree with. [laughing] These are good reasons to like AUs!

ELM: Sure, and I also think it's a fair point and I regret that we didn't say this, the idea that there are plenty of quote unquote canon fics where characterization is wildly off...like, so it's not...it's not, and to the point where sometimes people even say it, they'll be like "this is kind of OOC but I'm just going there" and you're like "OK."

FK: And also the difference between canon and fanon interpretations of people's character and what that character even means. Obviously the one that I care about the very most at all times is Snape who has a canon characterization that is, he is a total fuckboy. And [laughing]

ELM: He's so bad, Flourish.

FK: It's just so bad.

ELM: Uchhh.

FK: Whereas I think there's a very highly developed fanon idea of him that actually conforms in many ways to canon, but the difference is that he's not such a dick. And this is...this exists for historical fandom reasons, but definitely is not in character. So. I think. You know. Yeah. That's a thing.

ELM: It's hard, and that thing leads me into the idea of whose...not even rough edges but whose problematic shit canonically gets softened away. You know. This comes back to this idea that we're constantly talking about of who gets certain treatment and who doesn't in fandom and that kind of thing.

FK: Yeah although I will say that I think that for Snape in the best ones it's...he's actually still awful just in not exactly the ways that JK Rowling makes him awful. But.

ELM: Still! You know.

FK: They're boring ways. They're boring ways!

ELM: Yeah but you could say that if you spend all your time...I don't know. I don't wanna really get into this idea of, you're glossing over an abuser or something, you know. Which is definitely a discourse point talking about Snape, that kind of thing. But I do think it's tricky sometimes when fanon can overpower canon so much that you wind up glossing over certain things or, and then as I just said, the fact that it's sometimes it's not universally distributed, this kind of softening.

FK: Right, because people do it in order to make people fall into tropes or stereotypes, this is obviously what's happening with Snape, so yeah, totally.

ELM: Yeah, it's tricky. But on the flip side of that, this kinda connects back to what Emma was saying about The 100 and their experience there. And a kind of way of, I don't know how to characterize it. Protecting yourself? From the trauma, maybe trauma is too extreme. But the sadness...I'm not being very articulate right now [laughing] But if you find something that's really hard to watch but you still love the characters, AUs can definitely perform that function. The flip side is true too, not necessarily an AU for this, but if you want to use fiction to process your own traumas, then go ahead. You can write your characters, it doesn't have to be hurt/comfort but it might be. You can put them in situations that help you, that give you a lens through which to process the hard things too. It can go in both directions. I think there is a stereotype or an assumption that it only works one way, that it's taking hard canon and making it softer and approachable.

FK: Right, but it does go the other way for sure.

ELM: I think that's a ...and this ties up in a...

FK: And even sometimes in the same piece. In the same character you can have people who are taking hard canon and making it softer, and people who are making it harder.

ELM: You mean like in the same story?

FK: No not in the same story but in the same fanon character. If you have a character...I'm trying to think of a non Snape character to use as an example [ELM laughs] But if you have a character who's like that, who some people are like oh, but I'm really into this person even though they're a dick, people take that in both directions. People woobify, and they also...

ELM: Dickify?

FK: Dickify.

ELM: [laughing] Yes, that's true. I'm also thinking maybe it can even happen in the same story. We were talking about when you have big swooping canony stuff, you can take away the swoopyness, which not necessarily softens it, but makes it more realistic. And then that can actually give you space to do more character work, I feel like.

FK: Right. And then you can also do it the other direction and make it bigger and swoopier.

ELM: You can always make it swoopier.

FK: [laughing] As we know because the most popular Reylo fic right now takes Reylo, already big and swoopy, and makes it even bigger and swoopier.

ELM: Swoop it up!

FK: Swoops it up. It is a canon compliant with the Legends canon forced marriage AU. So. As you might expect.

ELM: Your favorite.

FK: My favorite!

ELM: Lack of agency, forced marriage.

FK: Lack of agency, love it, #loveit. OK. Should we take a break before we read the rest of the letters?

ELM: Yeah, I think we should.

FK: OK.

[Interstitial music by Stefsax]

FK: Alright, we're back.

ELM: We are back! Alright, what's next?

FK: OK. This first letter is by PersephoneGarnata, Seph, and I'm gonna compress it a little bit for length just so that we have enough time to get to everything. So.

"Hi Flourish and Elizabeth, not prompted by anything in a recent episode of the podcast, but I was wondering if you were planning to do anything on fandom and age at any point? There's a popular perception that fandom is full of teenagers and people 'age out' of it. I expect that's true to an extent, but there are of course many people in their 20s, 30s and older who are still in fandom.

"My own experience here is perhaps slightly unusual - I've aged into fandom. I didn't get seriously into fannish activities until my early 30s. There are a few reasons for this. One reason is simply that, for a period of several years, I wasn't really into anything that came with a significant transformational fandom. Another reason is that I suffered a period of ill health when I had a lot of time to fill, at home, by myself - fanfic to the rescue! And a third reason is that, as I've matured, I've become a lot less judgey about fandom. I used to be a bit sniffy about fanfic, thinking it inferior to 'proper' books and 'proper' writing. Even after I got into reading it more, I kind of thought of it as mostly a guilty pleasure, reading about sexytimes between your favourite hot guys, not as something that could stand up as literature. That all changed after reading some fic which ruined my life (in a good way). These days I am a vocal proponent of the Fanfic is Great school of thought, and I just wish I'd got the stick out of my butt a bit sooner.

"Being an 'Aged-In' fan can sometimes be a little odd, because I'm the same age as many of the people who've been in fandom for years and have the same level of general life experience, but I missed out on many formative experiences like Strikethrough and Dashcon. I went straight from Fiction Alley to Archive of Our Own! Many of the fans I interact with online are much younger than me, which is normally cool, but occasionally I get a bit weirded out when I realise that quite a lot of that interaction could technically be described as sharing sexually explicit material with minors (but hey, I always try to tag my stuff appropriately!)

"Finally... a callback to one of your early episodes for making me feel like an Ancient. In your episode on Wattpad, I remember you talking about teenagers writing fics called stuff like 'Dean Winchester is my father', and thinking 'but Dean isn't old enough to have a teenage daughter... oh wait, yes he is.' I'm roughly the same age as Dean so the thought of teenagers thinking of him as a father figure is oh my God I'm so old! Thanks for reading my thoughts, keep up the good work! Seph."

ELM: So we have talked about this a bit. We should probably dig up some of the links for the show notes.

FK: Yeah, for sure.

ELM: We definitely have talked about sharing space with minors, and how there seem to be differing attitudes on this. And I think both our perspectives come from historically having been minors in fandom growing up with the idea that it is up to the young person...we always had to kind of lie and say "oh it's fine! I'm 18, don't worry about it," never an expectation that adults would change their behavior or the way that they were communicating with each other. If you wanted to be included in adult conversation, you had to lie and say you were an adult. And I can't see the other way around, honestly.

FK: Yeah. I agree. I think that we've struggled with this because it has been such a hot button issue when we've talked about it before and also because I think neither of us want to be the old people talking about the teen experience. I think it's complex, to talk about age in fandom we would want to have on people with...

ELM: Teens?

FK: Yeah, teens, and also much older people, and it would just be hard to fill different kinds of experience.

ELM: I think it would be worth doing.

FK: I think the summary of this is yes we've considered it and yes we would like to do it and maybe we will do it. We have vague nebulous intentions. It's slightly moving partsy. But we're gonna figure it out. Right?

ELM: I just think, I think this discourse is gonna keep happening. I think that, it frustrates me to see but I also don't read it and think "oh, am I too old to be here?" Because I'm surrounded by people in their 30s and 40s and 50s who are in fandom and people who have great jobs and relationships and families and things and still manage to write extraordinary fanfiction and this weird...it's not just fandom, the idea that women in particular stop existing as whole people when they reach certain ages or when they have children or whatever. So don't let that get to you is what I would say. Easier said than done!

FK: True. Alright, let's read the next one.

ELM: OK, I'll do it. "Hello Flourish and Elizabeth! Ao3 announced that they will be updating their search feature, which is probably long overdue." This came in a few weeks ago. "But it got me thinking about fandom metadata and how we look for fic. (Blame Episode 19 of your podcast, Shannon Fay Johnson's article for Transformative Works and Cultures," we'll put a link to that in the show notes, "and the day job, I'm a cataloging librarian.)" Woooo! That's me, cheering for librarians.

"Most communities tag and organize their fic very differently from one another. FF.net has very rigid tagging capabilities, AO3 is a mix of formal tags and free-form tagging. tumblr is a mess, some people tag, some people don't. I was a member of several different livejournal communities, all had different ways of tagging fic. Sometimes this is on purpose - people would rather use fandom specific terms to keep outsiders from finding their fic. I remember when people used to tag things "Wolfstar" instead of Remus/Sirius, for instance.

"So my question for you is, how do we findthe fics that we're looking for? Do people stick to the same searching strategies, or do they vary across platforms? Mine look completely different, even in the same fandoms. The way I look for star wars fic changes with each level of the universe I'm looking at (prequels, original, new trilogy, clone wars, or rebels).

"I'm curious how other people go about it! Or is it all just luck of the draw when you go browsing? Waiting for recs? Finding a favorite writer and sticking with them and what they like? Thanks! I enjoy the podcast! Kate McManus." I love this letter!

FK: Thank you Kate! So actually I have a proposal for this. I think that we should invite, I think you and I should each write up our fic finding strategies, just quickly, and we should invite other people to do the same thing, and maybe we should write something about that. Cause I would be interested to know how other people do this too, and I think that probably there will be a wide variation.

ELM: Absolutely and I have a lot of feelings about this, because I am in literal AO3 hell for the last now it's been month and a half. Oh god. Time's tickin' away. So I've been having to actively find fic a lot, right? And I have strategies.

FK: I do too, and mine vary a lot depending on fandom and where they are. OK. So that's what we're gonna do then right?

ELM: OK so we are gonna write this down and listeners are gonna write in and tell us how they find fic. OK.

FK: And we're going to drum up people to do it and then we'll do a roundup or something.

ELM: Alright, so send in your stuff everyone.

FK: OK. Next letter. "Hey. Thank you so much for your excellent podcast! I'm writing with a request: could you maybe do an episode on how to make fandom friends online? This is something I've never figured out how to do, even though I've been a voracious consumer of fanworks since Highlander in 1996. How does one go from being a regular commentor on fic or resharer of Tumblr posts to forming a friendship with someone? I'd love to hear your stories of how you both managed it. Thanks!" And that I think was an anonymous ask on Tumblr.

ELM: Yeah I think it was anon. We are literally two of the worst people to answer this question.

FK: Because you never make friends and I always do? No, that's not right.

ELM: No I've made plenty of friends since I stopped lurking, but using my real name and writing very popular articles about fandom in mainstream publications! So I remember at one point in Sherlock fandom I made a rec list, someone asked me for recs and I added the people who I liked and I was like "oh I really love blank's fic, and I love blank for this and blank for this," and they all followed me. And if I had been some random person just saying "I like blank blank and blank," would they have followed me back immediately? But because my real name is attached to it and my real name is attached to articles that were being widely shared in the Sherlock fandom, they knew who I was and then they were like...I'm not saying that my writing is so irresistable that no one can say no to my friendship... [laughing]

FK: Yeah. But I will say this, I just started posting a long serial written fanfic under a sock...

ELM: Oh yeah!

FK: ...and no I'm not gonna say what the sock is but people can figure that out, I'm sure, if they look at my history, don't worry, you can figure it out. Go do some sleuthing.

ELM: And all of your psychological hangups in fic form.

FK: All of my hangups. It's just very obvious who wrote this fic if you think too hard about it. So anyway, I have this sock, and it has started getting comments and there is a person who I feel like I have a growing baby maybe gonna actually be a friendship someday at which point I'll have to tell them who I am and that that's my sock. And they commented and we got into a conversation in their comment on my fic. So I think that is...that's certainly the way it always worked before I was high profile in fandom and I think that must be how it goes.

ELM: I think a lot of people who want to make friends...being the fic writer is the privileged position. Because I think most people are not gonna be the fic writer. [FK makes agreement noises] Or if they are are they gonna be the fic writer that generates enough attention to get several people commenting? I think there is definitely resentment around "BNFs" in particular, part of that is because it's such a...it's kind of a celebrity-fan relationship in the sense of you can feel like you have an intimate relationship with someone's fan presence, their fic, if they have a lot of followers then you probably see their content a lot, you know. And how do you say...I'm here too! And I say this with many years of lurking, I definitely felt like I had a personal relationship with some of my favorite authors, but first of all I didn't...what was I gonna do, be like "hey!" You know? I knew these were very popular writers too so then it definitely feels like I'm a fan and they're a famous person. You know?

FK: I agree but I do think there's something...first I think you're right. I think you're absolutely right that...

ELM: [laughing] Cool. First things first!

FK: But I also think that it doesn't...I think a lot of people feel like it has to be "I'm going to be a writer and that's the way I'm going to contribute to this community, and then therefore people will talk to me and they'll care," and I don't think that's the only way you can make community contributions that cause people to speak with you and engage with you and make friendships. I think people do it through writing meta, through having fic recs, I think people do it through any form of...

ELM: All of these are creation! I don't mean to just pin it on, I think this is the example I gave.

FK: I think they are all creation but I think that is kind of part of how you make friends!

ELM: I think it's also quite challenging to make really good, you know, really good gifsets or really good fic rec lists! So that, I think that's a bar. It's really hard and I imagine there are actually lots of people in fandom who are semi lurkers who, and don't have access to cons, maybe don't feel comfortable with IRL stuff, and there's no...it's very hard I think to laterally find people who are also similarly not high volume content creators and who wanna be friends. And it seems like it's a, you know, you need some kind of singles bar or something cause there's so many parasocial relationships.

FK: I think it's one of the reasons people like cons. It's one of the few places where you can see people face to face and say "hey, thing!" And talk to someone in a line or whatever.

ELM: And that's not to say, I'm sure, I don't know what it would be like to be a popular fic writer but it's not to say that they're on some pedestal and they don't actually want fandom friends, you know. You never know...

FK: I also think that it's actually, it doesn't have to be a fan-celebrity situation. I think that just having opened a conversation through this creative thing that you made, then people contact you because they have engaged with it and then the conversation is started. And that is a position of power even if it's only incredibly small. I think saying "fan celebrity" makes it seem like it's a big deal, I can promise you that this fic I'm writing I am not a celebrity by any stretch in this fandom. [laughing]

ELM: Not celebrity but like...cult famous author.

FK: Oh, thank you, thank you. [laughing] I see what you're saying. I think it's hard, and that is the way that most people do it.

ELM: You know what, here is my recommendation. You should start a fandom newsletter and get thousands of people to sign up and then you literally write in the newsletter "I'm into this show Black Sails, you should message me if you like it." And then multiple people will message you and then you wind up in their guest room at Oxford!

FK: Sounds like very relatable and reasonable advice. [laughing]

ELM: This is why I'm saying it's not helpful! And I don't know, I say this with full knowledge of having been a lurker for a very very long time. And not, you know, ten years ago...it's not necessarily something I would have even wanted to do. Obviously I'm very grateful to the friends I made through fandom while talking out loud about things, but I have a complicated relationship with being really open about my feelings about the source material. Some of that's very private to me, you know?

FK: I agree with you, I guess the thing I'm struggling with is I feel like it relates to making friendships in any community to some degree. I've been bouncing around from church communities for a long while now and one of the things I realized after trying to find a church community and failing and feeling really alone and sad was that the only way for me to actually make friendships within that community was to volunteer for shit and be on fuckin' flower guild or altar guild or...you know what I mean? Just do shit instead of hoping people would talk to me.

ELM: Were you just hoping if you shook their hand and you said "Peace!"

FK: "Peace be with you!" right?

ELM: And then they'd be like "Best friend forever"? Sometimes I think this!

FK: Exactly! And I think giving a kudos or whatever, for a lot of people...

ELM: Have you had this feeling? I had this today. I always think this at peace. What if I shake hands with someone and then we decide we wanna be best friends? It literally will never happen from a peace, but yeah.

FK: So only by, and that's not easy either, and it requires...and not everybody can and this is one of the reasons why that's hard and I feel like it's not the same thing exactly in fandom, but I think they're related.

ELM: Participating. I like that you just compared giving kudos on AO3 to exchanging peace at church.

FK: It's like on May the Fourth. May the force be with you...and also with you. And also with your spirit.

ELM: And also with thy spirit, yes...you say and also with your spirit?

FK: We don't use "thy."

ELM: I am so glad I go to my church and not your church.

FK: I am so glad I go to MY church and not YOUR church too!

ELM: "Thy" is superior.

FK: Uhhhhhhh...it certainly sound snootier. OK! Let's talk about the next one!

ELM: I love history I don't know what to tell you.

FK: That's just how you are.

ELM: Also, thy was the informal. You was the formal.

FK: I know! If you remember when I was in...

ELM: Languagesplain!

FK: When I was in Sleepy Hollow fandom...

ELM: Oh yeah! [laughing]

FK: And I got really mad that the Quakers didn't speak right.

ELM: Yeah...you wanna read... this is the last one. I'll read it.

FK: It's your turn.

ELM: But I also have feelings about it, so what if I read it and just answer it without you.

FK: OK I can read it then and then you can have feelings about it.

ELM: OK so the first one came in and then the second one came in and I feel bad. I literally set this one aside because I had so many thoughts and now it's about the Infinity War premiere which obviously happened last week, so. You'll see. The asker I think, the problem was sorted out but I think this is still relevant to us.

FK: And this was an anon ask. Two anon asks.

ELM: Two of them.

FK: That were obviously the same person.

"I obsess over a lot of fiction for comfort or escapism (quite common I'm sure). Today my mother messaged me about travel plans she made for the family - the same weekend that Avengers Infinity War comes out. I've been looking forward to this movie for over a year and was planning to go with friends for midnight showing, dress up, take pictures, etc, be part of a crowd that's equally excited. I feel truly devastated but she thinks it's frivolous. I wish for her to validate how I feel. Any advice?" Next ask...

ELM: This came in shortly afterwards. It was within a few days.

FK: "Marvel studios moved up the release today which is awesome for me, but wow, what are the chances of that timing? So disregard my last message... sort of. I'd be interested in your thoughts re: explaining fandom emotional investment to non fans who don't "get it". I'll obviously prioritize real life (especially family) over hobbies, but you can't help but feel disappointment when fandom is so special and big to you. Especially when people write off your interests as silly and shameful."

ELM: OK. So what I was gonna write, and what I still think, is that in situations like this, one thing that's helpful is to apply what I would call the Big Game Test. I don't know if you can see where this is going. You wanna go see this movie at a midnight premiere, and your mom's made plans for you? And you're like, "don't you understand how important to me this is" and your mom is like "it's just a movie."

Now say your team was in the Super Bowl. Is this situation...so say it's your grandmother's funeral and you were like, "but my team's in the Super Bowl!" Depending on your family situation, but it's almost definite that your parents would say...

FK: Depends how Grandma feels about that team!

ELM: I don't know, a very serious...we don't know your family, but under normal circumstances you would have to attend a family member's funeral even if your team was in the Super Bowl!

FK: Unless you're in Lincoln Nebraska and...actually that's college but never mind.

ELM: Wow you think that your football team is the only one that anyone cares about but in fact it's like that for all the football teams in all of the towns.

FK: [laughing] I know it is.

ELM: Maybe not the best example because it's probably true that your whole family wants to watch the Super Bowl in this case. [laughing]

FK: But we get it.

ELM: Emotionally. There are definitely situations, whereas if you're gonna have to go to your grandmother's funeral and you're like "but mom don't you understand Infinity War comes out this weekend," sorry, you have to go to your grandmother's funeral. There are definitely times in fandom where I think—and we don't know the circumstances of this and this is not specifically about this ask—but there are times where people are like "don't they understand this is really important?" and it's like "yeah but...you can't...I wanna read only X-men fanfiction right now but I do still have to go to work." Right? And I think this is sometimes an issue that I run up to in talking to people in fandom because they're like "don't you understand I'm celebrating my passion" and you're like "yeah but there are things that do have to take precedent."

And obviously the asker knows that and they say it right here.

FK: But on the other hand also...

ELM: I think it requires clarification based on some conversations I've had with people! What's the other hand?

FK: But on the other hand also if Nebraska was in the playoffs when I was growing up, you bet your fuckin' ass, not only were we going to be watching this, but my grandfather would call the entire family to come and watch with him, even the parts of the family who don't actually like...and I'm sure this is the same for other people about other teams...

ELM: You say this like it's unique and this is literally how all America feels about football!

FK: But I'm not! My point is saying... first of all, not literally all Americans feel this way about football. I have to tell you not everyone feels this way about football. But the point being that's fandom and it's a fandom that takes over the entire family even if you don't like football, you still have to be there because it's a thing.

ELM: So that's why I think it is true that I feel like when you're talking to a family member, not to make it really gendered, but more likely a dad or a male family member than a mom, even though there are tons of women obviously that love pro sports, but I definitely think it's a way to contextualize if they're like "it's just a movie you can see it whenever," you can be like "would you feel that way if it was the playoffs and our team was there?" And they'd be like "oh no absolutely." It's an easy analogy to make but it's also one that I think helps. It helps people...one of my longstanding theories on this is the idea that it's much more rare for people to be casual fans of sports in the way you can be casual fans of something like the MCU. You know?

So there's a big debacle when Infinity War came out because Richard Brody from the New Yorker wrote this piece that was like...I don't wanna get into it because I actually think he had some fine points but it was talking about the structure of the franchise. Did you see this? Talking about the structure of the franchise and how you popped into it and the characters were placed into it and you have to understand what happened in the previous 19 movies to have any idea of the context for anything, and I think part of the problem there is this disconnect between thinking of a cog in a franchise as the same thing as the standalone film. And I'm not saying that he...he could figure that out. But I do think it's a problem that we review these very different types of movies in the same space under the same rubric.

FK: Especially when nobody would say, "this game, you could understand..." I mean you can understand I guess to some extent outside of the context of what's happened in a season for your team, but...

ELM: It helps! Right. So it's like, yeah. But that was an aside. I think that you get millions and millions and millions of people who are going to see Infinity War this weekend, and they may have a vague memory of what happened in the other movies and real chill for them and "OK that was fun" they walk away. And maybe they didn't like it, I've seen some weird reactions coming out of this movie.

FK: Actually maybe this IS a little bit like the Super Bowl. You have to watch the Super Bowl even if you don't care about the teams, but if your team is in the Super Bowl...

ELM: There's three things that happen in the Super Bowl I would say in my observation at parties. There's the people whose teams are in it, then there's me who cares about a football...I cannot watch a soccer game or an American football game without getting invested in them. Otherwise I'm just like "you're literally going back and forth and I don't care." In football I have all these very specific biases.

FK: Do you have a ranking system where...

ELM: Yes. So.

FK: "I root for X over Y and Y over Z." Is Dallas at the bottom? Because Dallas should be at the bottom.

ELM: Dallas, I think Dallas should always be at the bottom. Very briefly, anyone in the AFC who is not in the Bills' division, I will always root the most heavily against the Patriots, the Dolphins and the Jets, but I prefer the AFC over the NFC cause the AFC seems soft and pure and the NFC seems evil. BUT I will root for an NFC team if they are from the rust belt.

Everything is connected to the Bills somehow. If they come from a cold, hardscrabble place, I'll root for them. I'll root for the Steelers and I'll root for the Packers and I'll root for the Vikings, cause they come from sad-ass places where people need football! If you live in Florida, you can just go sit in the sunshine and wrestle an alligator! Do you need this sport? And it's all they have!

FK: All right. So now we've gone down that entire path but what I will say, I do want to get one thing into here before we get too distracted [ELM laughing] which is to say that I thought the asker was super wise to say that I wish for her to validate what I feel, because I think a very relationships thing of like...it's not just, the question is not just "can I go see it or not" or "will I go see it or not" it's "I want my mom to understand how much I love this thing," and that's hard.

ELM: But I'm not sure...this is why I bring up, why I think it's harder for people to understand this, because everyone's going to go see Infinity War. And then be like, "well I just watched it and it was fun" and walk away, and they're like "you...wanna write stories about these characters?! I like them but I don't understand." Whereas it doesn't go in the opposite direction where you just kinda swing by the football game and you're like "cool" and then you're like "I don't understand why you're so invested painting yourself." I think it's much more rare that you casually swing by a sports game.

FK: And if you do then you totally know why the people are painting themselves.

ELM: Yeah! I mean...do we really know why they're painting themselves. It's so much. It's cold out! The hardscrabble team, it's very cold in this place, they're gonna get frostbite. They probably have alcohol poisoning anyway.

I just think it's really hard. One of the things about Ship It, if you listen to the last episode, the mom character, she's very very very supportive of all things. You know, at one point the protagonist is like, "You're gonna let me be by myself?" Trying to get her mom to say no, actually. She's trying to get her mom to get her out of it, right. And she's like "I could be offered drugs! I could get pregnant!" And her mom says something like "those all sound like important life milestones that you need to pass at some point." [laughing] And obviously I don't believe that this is outside the realm of mom attitudes, but this is not a standard mom attitude! That's undeniably not.

FK: I will say that it is a very particular Pacific Northwest mom attitude.

ELM: Yes, and an artist mom. And I totally get this mom and I've met this mom before but...

FK: It's not the standard issue mom.

ELM: But it then makes her blanket acceptance and interest and the enthusiasm and interest in her daughter's passions a lot more believable. Whereas a different type of mom would be like, "why don't you care about something real, this is a fake relationship, focus on your own life." So it works for the story because obviously we've laid the groundwork of her being this kind of person, it's just like, "groovy! You have your things you love, I'm gonna go make a sculpture out of the mini cereal boxes in our hotel" or whatever, that's not an example but she would, probably. She seems like a mixed media kinda lady. [laughing] And her dad writing poems about the convention center!

But I just, I think some people just aren't gonna get it and their minds don't work that way and maybe the way to say it is contextualizing within the fandom saying, this is actually really important to a lot of people and I'm one of those people and I know you love me and it's brought me friendships and it's made me a more creative person or any of the positive things that you think fandom brings to your life, and I think that anyone who loves you, if family members want to see you happy...as long as you're not skipping, not doing your job or school or whatever I feel like it's convincing them. That's how they can see the value and if they see the value it brings...I don't like the things you're a fan of but I like that it brings you joy.

FK: Exactly. I think that this is one of the hardest things, maybe I'm just expanding my own experiences to the world, but I think this is one of the harder things about growing up and growing into an adult relationship with not just your family but also your friends and everyone else. Sort of finding the ways that you can have those people who mean a lot to you and who are never gonna get certain things that you care about and being OK with that. And I think different people have different levels of being OK with that and I think it can be really hard.

ELM: Look at everyone, every day on Twitter I see people angry that people like something. You know that cartoon where the angel comes down and hands, the guy is like "I hate that thing" and the angel comes down in the next panel and hands him a little card and he opens it and it says, like, "OK" or something. Alright! Just OK! You know? Got it. Please calm down. [laughing]

FK: Like I said I think this has to do with...there's a lot of things, people's personalities are different like this. I say this as a person who is significantly religious and is married to an atheist so obviously I have extremely high tolerance for people believing and caring about very different things from me in a fundamental way, and some people aren't like that and that's OK too. And that can be hard, if you're like that asker. I understand that that can be incredibly hard.

ELM: Yeah. The asker sounds like...

FK: They have their shit together!

ELM: I was gonna say "head screwed on right" but then I lost the train of...

FK: You got it though, you got it!

ELM: Was that right? Is that the expression?

FK: Yeah, head screwed on straight!

ELM: Cool, so yeah. So. Thus concludes Ask Fansplaining Anything Part 1.

FK: It does. And now if you have been inspired by this episode to ask us things, the very best way to do it is by leaving us a voicemail like Katie who we love.

ELM: Katie!!!

FK: Yeah, Katie!! Like the way Katie did.

ELM: Wait wait wait, a bunch of our asks were anon asks so...

FK: You're right. That's also a great way to leave us an ask!

ELM: I don't wanna force anyone. You can also call and use a pseud or not use your name at all, say hey I'd rather not use my name.

FK: Use a voice hider so no one can know your voice.

ELM: That's incredible. Sound like you're on a Dateline special in the dark.

FK: Yeah, do that. OK. So you can do that, but also genuinely it is true I didn't mean to suggest that...if you wanna leave an anon ask that's also great. Thank you, no one has been sending us hate, thank you for not sending us hate and keep not sending us hate. [ELM laughing] GOOD JOB PEOPLE.

ELM: On Fansplaining.tumblr.com you will see the phone number that you can call if you would like to use your voice. You will see the ask button that you can turn on anon for or not to send this stuff. Tweet or Facebook, both at Fansplaining though I don't think either of those really give you enough space to say too much so...

FK: And if you really wanna stretch out you can send us an email, [email protected].

ELM: Yes! Other points of business, patreon.com/fansplaining, this is how we continue to make the podcast. Thank you to, every episode I feel like we get at least a patron or two and I really really appreciate that whether you've been listening for a long time or you're a new listener, if you find your financial circumstances allow you to give us even as little as a dollar a month. Or as much as four hundred dollars a month if you want Flourish to make you a sweater just in time for summer!!

FK: Actually if you did it right now you would probably get it just in time for winter, so.

ELM: It's an elaborate sweater. It's a Harry Potter sweater. But obviously I am not expecting anyone to give us four hundred dollars a MONTH. a MONTH.

FK: [laughing] Look it takes a long time to make a sweater ok? So if you don't have money or don't want to give us your money or whatever or even if you wanna do something nice to us in addition to giving us your money you can also review us and leave a written review, like a starred review and a written review, on iTunes. Really helps us get out there and helps people find us so please do that if you have a chance.

ELM: I think those are all the points of business!

FK: Alright! Well, in that case, you gonna go and read some X-men fanfic now?

ELM: Literally reading an AU.

FK: OK, I'm gonna go keep writing my AU under my sock.

ELM: Yeah! You know what, I do wonder, will I become a universal AU fan after this?

FK: Maybe.

ELM: And then we'll have AUs Part 2, we'll have Morgan back, we'll just...

FK: And you're just gonna be talking about how much you like AUs.

ELM: I'll be like "I only like AUs." We'll see, we'll see. I'm gonna go read some more. It's fine!

FK: Talk to you later!

ELM: Bye!

[outro music, thank yous and disclaimers]

#fansplaining #fan culture #fan studies

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exodusfromeden · 6 years

Text

Bakery AU

Title: Bakery AU Author: Crowbie Pairing: BlueBells Summary: Commissioned Fic from the beautiful Crowbie <3 Rated: T Warnings: None Disclaimer: Exodus own the two characters used below.

Monday mornings were always the hardest for Alastor. He had spent all weekend having the ability to sleep in and do whatever it was that he wanted while he was off work. Adjusting to waking up early was always such a pain, and he always had to add extra alarms in the morning just to wake up on time.

He showered, pulled on his usual attire of jeans and a shirt and signature sweater, and exited his apartment to head to work. The sun hadn't yet risen in the sky, and the city streets were slightly chilly and the air was crisp, tickling his nose. He enjoyed the silence, finding his walks to work his most peaceful.

Absently, as he passed by a wall covered in bright graffiti, he thought of the girl that came to the shop every day. Her hair was always a different colour when he saw her, something bright and vibrant that stood out against her dark skin. She was bubbly, always catching him in a quick conversation any time he was behind the counter. He was never much of a morning person, but the routine they had fallen into together somehow made him start to enjoy his morning shifts more.

He pushed the thought of her to the back of his mind, continuing his walk to work in silence.

When he entered the small bakery, the smell of baked bread and pies filled his nose. He bent his head as he stepped through the back door entrance, careful not to bump his forehead on the frame like he often did. He padded through the thin hallway, passing several of the morning workers pulling carts that carried trays of freshly baked breads and other pastries. They all nodded at him, and he exchanged an awkward yet pleasant smile as he passed them. They had all worked together long enough to know he wasn’t a morning person.

He stopped in front of the tiny office hidden away in a corner at the back of the bakery, the word Moira written in scratchy font on a piece of printer paper hanging on the closed door. He turned the knob, pushing the metal door open with a creak and poked his head in. The lights were off and the office was left in its usual disarray, with papers and bills scattered all over the place and ancient secret family recipes hanging on the wall with “improvements” written on them in red ink.

Moira always liked to change things up; she had a gift for it. She took recipes that were hundreds of years old and adjusted them. Alastor grew up calling it her working her ‘magic’ and there was never a time he wasn’t impressed with the outcome.

He knew, however, that if any of the ghosts of his ancestors knew what she had done they would have thrown a fit. It amused him to think Moira would have gladly told them to fuck off, all while rolling out dough that was without a doubt better than the last.

Stepping out of the empty office, he closed the door and continued his trek to the front of the store. He carefully danced around the cracked tile in the floor he had been meaning to fix for the past six months had he not been such a lazy bastard, and stepped through the entryway to the small space behind the counter at the front of the shop. He was pleased to find Moira hunched over a glass casing, carefully placing pastries on plates for customers to look at when they walked in.

He looked at her then, a small fond quirk of his lips pulling up at his face as he watched her work. Moira, or, as he preferred to call her: Gran was a tiny woman. Everyone was tiny to him, but she was especially small. She had a wrinkly face and long grey hair, and constant mischief in her eyes. If there was one thing he had noticed as a child, it was that Gran always looked like she had a secret, or knew something you didn’t. It used to drive him wild with curiosity, and sometimes it still does, a flaw she often exploits for a laugh.

“Mornin’, Gran,” He gave her a half-hearted wave and reached over to grab an apron hanging off the cream coloured walls.

She stood up quickly and whirled around, regarding him with one of her notorious kind smiles. “Mornin’ laddie! Stand up straight wudje? Ya look like a depressed Big Foot--no’ tha’ aye mind tha’ sort a thing, but if yer to find someone I’m sure they’d like ta see your face.”

He quirked a brow at her for a moment, before shaking his head and adjusting his posture. Out of habit he walked with a slouch to make himself smaller. Sometimes he wondered that if he curled in on himself enough, maybe he would disappear entirely. If he looked at the ground long enough maybe it would swallow him whole.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling a deep breath and releasing it, forcing his negative thoughts out of his mind.

“Any customers?” he asked absently, looking for a distraction. His fingers fumbled with the bands on his apron, the knot he was tying slipping from his grasp several times as his hands began to sweat. He steeled himself once again and took his time more slowly with the knot, knowing that the store wasn’t busy and didn’t require him to try to do everything at an excelled rate.

He just woke up. He could take his time.

“One or two,” Moira shrugged, moving on to the cake display. “Waitin’ fer anyone in particular?”

Ah. There it was. That Tone she used when she was trying to insinuate something. He had expected it, like he did every morning. They had done this same old song and dance for years; Moira always assuming she knew more about his love life than he even did.

“No, Gran,” he sighed out, feeling drained even though the day had barely begun. “Just curious.”

“Bet you are,” he caught her mutter, feeling his shoulders stiffen before letting out another breath and choosing to let it go.

Hours passed, quiet and uneventful, like they usually did in the mornings. Alastor spent his time cleaning, wiping windows and tables and dusting where needed. Sometimes he helped bake, but he wasn’t in the mood for it this morning. Something about the heat in the back of the bakery made his stomach curl.

Eventually, the bell on the top of the door jingled, and he looked up from the crossword he was filling out. Stepping through the entryway was the last person on earth Alastor was looking forward to seeing.

“Mornin’,” he said wearily, eyeing the customer with thinly veiled annoyance.

“Mornin’ giant,” Kapindra said, pulling off his sunglasses and glancing around the bakery with disdain.

The annoying little prick had been coming in every day for the past week. Alastor only knew his name because Gran had asked, and she used it to tease him, often telling him their new regular had come by for sweets.

Alastor didn’t know who shoved the stick so far up Kapindra’s ass to make him so insufferable, but sometimes he swore he could see the tip of it bobbing in his throat whenever he opened his mouth to speak.

Around the same time Alastor’s favourite customer, the bubbly girl with the blue hair, stopped coming, Kapindra showed up. His mouth was always twisted, like he was eating something sour whenever he addressed Alastor. He spoke quickly, and muttered grievances under his breath when he thought Alastor couldn’t hear.

The thing Alastor hated the most about him was that the little Brooklyn bastard looked and acted like he was rich. He looked down Moira’s bakery, upturning his nose and sniffing at it like the whole building had gone bad.

The only good thing to come out of his height was that Alastor was able to look down on him, and that made him feel good, if only a little.

“What can I get you today?” Alastor asked, struggling not to take off his apron and throw it in Kapindra’s face.

“How about some better customer service?” Kapindra quirked a dark brow at him, twisting a cocky grin up at Alastor before shifting his gaze back on to the display of pastries. “Smile more, Frankenstein, you might not scare off all your customers that way.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the stench of your obnoxious cologne and personality that keeps everyone away,” Alastor said dryly, taking a couple lengthy steps to stand in front of the pastry display opposite Kapindra. He smiled at him awkwardly, all teeth and nothing in his eyes, and he noted with satisfaction that Kapindra looked genuinely uncomfortable when he noticed. “Now, what can I get fer ya?”

Kapindra sighed with annoyance and dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through it, his eyes scanning what was undoubtedly a list of things to buy. For the past week he had bought almost the entire case of pastries, always leaving with two large bags and a sour look on his face.

“Six croissants, four Danishes, three cannoli’s and one lemon bar, please,” he said the last part with a tight lipped smile, acting as if the word physically hurt him.

Alastor took his time bagging the goodies. He had noticed the one thing that truly bugged Kapindra was that he always acted as if he were in a constant rush to get somewhere. The slower Alastor took, the antsier he became.

It was the most fun Alastor had had in weeks.

After he bagged up the food, he rang it all in, deleting and re-entering the same three items five times. He noticed Kapindra anxiously check his watch and bounce on the balls of his feet, and he deleted and re-entered the whole order again. The corner of Alastor’s mouth twitched up, and he had to force it back down.

“Here you go,” Alastor said finally, after Kapindra had paid and he had counted his change for him agonizingly slowly, he handed him the paper bags. “Enjoy.”

Kapindra said nothing, just rolled his eyes and scooped up his food, walking quickly out of the bakery and dashing off down the street.

“He didn’t seem too happy today, aye?” Moira asked from behind Alastor, her thin arms crossed over her chest and a crinkle in her eye as she stared out the windows.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Alastor shrugged, and got to work on restocking the display.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Kapindra said for the fifth time that morning, glaring angrily at his phone screen from where he sat across from Belial on a park bench. “I never want to deal with that freakishly huge monster ever again.”

Belial frowned at him, pushing a lock of green hair behind her ear before taking a bite out of a danish. “Don’ talk about ‘im like that,” she ordered, mouthing around the food in her mouth awkwardly. “He’s never done anything to you.”

Kapindra glanced up from his phone and gave her an offended look. “He is the slowest person on earth, and not only that--he’s a prick!”

Belial matched his look with her own, unimpressed. “You’re a prick, too.”

“That’s fair,” Kapindra shrugged and returned to his phone. “How’s your ankle?”

Belial swallowed her food and glanced down at her ankle. Her skin was wrapped in bandages, a single crutch lying unused against the wood of the bench she was sitting on. Her morning runs had taken a turn for the worst the week before, as she had slipped and twisted her ankle badly. It had put her out of commission, meaning she had to send Kapindra to her favourite bakery to pick up her morning supply of goodies instead of going herself.

Her mornings had felt a little lonelier since her accident. She was so used to waking up and running through the empty streets, reaching her final destination at the chic little bakery on 3rd street, Muffin Top, and ordering one (or five) of everything available. She wouldn’t quite admit it out loud, but she didn’t just go there for the sweets.

The awkward, quiet, lanky blue haired boy with a kind looking face was one of her biggest reasons for her constant return. Don’t get her wrong, she loved the food, but there was something about him that kept her intrigue. He was quiet in a way that was compelling, and spoke softly in a way that was unexpectedly gentle. Their conversations were short, but she had made it a personal goal to find out everything about him that she possible could.

Lately, her days had just been so boring without him. She had Kapindra to keep her company; one of her closest friends who was a constant source of entertainment, but there was only so much they could talk about before he had to go and entertain others. The man was always on the move, which made her a little bitter because of her ankle.

She took another bite out of her Danish, and chewed slowly, her eyes far away as she silently compelled her ankle to heal faster.

Days passed, the daily motions going by in a blur for Alastor. He did his usual routine, wake up after the sixth alarm, shower, dress, walk to work, work, go home, sleep. Rinse, wash, repeat. He felt like he was living in a daze, the only source of excitement was when Kapindra came in and they bickered. However, even that was becoming increasingly lacklustre.

He changed up his schedule a bit this morning, deciding instead of cleaning, to work in the back and roll dough with the other bakers. There was a pride in the way he worked; he knew the exact way Moira made her dough and no one else had ever gotten as close to it as he could. The other workers were all professional, and very good at what they do, but he couldn’t help but be a little full of himself over this one small thing. It was a personal victory, he’d say.

As he dusted his fingers with flour, he set to work on kneading. Push out, then in, flip and fold. He worked the dough over and over again, putting his strength into it and enjoying the feeling of the dough stretching out the way it was meant to.

He did that for hours, making batches of dough and putting them in the fridge to rise. When they were the perfect height, the bakers would pull them out, roll them, and turn them into something beautiful. Their work ethic reminded him of the life of a butterfly: he made the caterpillar and then they waited for it to hibernate, and then his co-workers would turn it into a gorgeous butterfly. Vibrant, beautiful, nothing like it was when he first created it.

Eventually, Moira came scrambling into the back, grabbing his arm and stopping his work. She had that look in her eye again, like she had a secret, and Alastor was instantly curious. His fingers pried away from the dough, and all his colleagues jeered and teased Moira for the panicked look on her face.

Was it panicked? He didn’t think so. It looked almost...excited.

“I have business to attend to in me office,” Moira said quickly, turning him around and pushing him in the direction of the front of the store. “Ge’ ou’ there and help the customer’s wuldje? I’m a busy ol’ hag!”

Before he could protest, she gave him a quick kick on the bum and he stumbled into the front of the store. He looked around wildly, confused and curious what could have garnered such a reaction from his grandmother.

And then he saw her.

The bubbly, brilliant, dazzlingly bright girl with the 1000 watt smile was hunched over the glass casing, mouth-watering at the look of the pastries.

His stomach clenched. For a second he forgot to breathe. Was he dreaming? No, this had to be reality, because if it wasn’t that would mean he would have to see Kapindra today and he didn’t want that.

“Mornin’,” he said quietly, suddenly feeling like he had run a mile and was out of breath.

She stood up quickly, surprised. Her eyes went wide for a second before settling back down and a warm smile graced her face. He noticed her hair was purple today; a colour he hadn’t seen for quite some time. He liked it.

“Morning!” she said cheerfully, taking a step in his direction. “Been awhile, eh?”

“Y-yeah,” he hesitated, avoiding eye contact and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I thought you got tired of this place.”

He laughed awkwardly, and the sound made him cringe.

“No, I could never,” she said, voice softer this time. He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and noticed she returned to her spot in front of the display case, eyes cast downward. “I actually had my friend come in for me every morning. I took a spill a few weeks ago and hurt my ankle, so I couldn’t make the trip myself, unfortunately.”

“Is your ankle okay?” it surprised him how worried he sounded, and it seemed to surprise her too, as they both glanced up at each other and stared in silence for a pregnant minute.

“Yes,” she said quietly, heat gracing her cheeks.

“Good,” he said quickly, taking a step to stand behind the case, readying a pair of tongs for whatever she ordered.

He prayed the ground would swallow him up right then and there.

“What can I get for ye?” he asked, hoping that he couldn’t possibly fuck up putting food in a bag.

“Ummmm…” she bit her lip in thought and his stomach did a thousand somersaults. She looked cute, too cute, he thought. “Three croissants, four Danishes, five truffles and one of those vanilla cupcakes, please!”

He packed everything away as it was asked, fingers trembling on the small box he put the cupcake in. Trying to not look too obvious, he picked the one with the most icing, assuming she would like it best. She didn’t seem to pick up on it, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

He walked to the cash register and she joined him, reaching for her wallet (purple, to match her hair) and he punched in her order. For a second, a selfish thought crossed his mind: if he did this slowly, she wouldn’t leave as fast, and he wouldn’t have to wait until the next morning to see her again.

He knew that was rude, so he brushed the thought away and told her the total. She counted out her bills and handed it to him. He took it with shaking hands and counted her change, passing it back. The receipt churned out of the machine slowly, the only sound breaking the awkward tension.

Without thinking about it, he grabbed it, flipped it over on the counter, and scribbled his number on the back before handing it back to her.

She looked down at it in confusion, then up at him through the thickness of her lashes.

“Uh, that’s, um,” he felt his hands begin to sweat and he shoved them in the pockets of his apron. “That’s my number. Y’know, in case you’d want it.”

“Oh,” she still looked confused. He cringed.

He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Again. Finally he looked at her, really looked at her. He met her eyes and all the intensity that they hid behind the soft features of her face. His stomach swelled with a rising anxiety, and he felt like he was going to throw up. But he couldn’t live like this anymore--he had to try.

“I’m Alastor,” he said, giving her a small smile. “And I’d really like to take you to dinner sometime.”

She was quiet for a moment, and he swore he heard her inhale but not release. He waited on baited breath, his stomach dropping and rising again in his throat when she smiled at him. He didn’t know how it happened, but the sun crested at that perfect moment, creating a halo of warm energy emitting all around her body. She looked ethereal.

“I’m Belial,” she grinned, holding the receipt close to her heart. “And I would really like to have dinner with you.”

He released his breath, and the corners of his mouth pulled up. It was the first time in a long time he smiled with all of his teeth, and it felt good.

“I’ll call you later,” Belial smiled again, waving the receipt and picking up her bag of goodies before turning to leave. She hesitated before the door, turning back to look over her shoulder at him. “Alastor?”

“Hm?” he looked at her expectantly, swallowing thickly in his throat.

“It’s nice to properly meet you,” she flashed him a parting grin and exited the store.

Alastor looked forward to the next morning when he was able to see her again. He looked forward to when she would call. And he looked forward to everyday for the next while, in the hopes that he got to see her more and more often.

#Commissioned Fanfiction #Fanfiction #there is no lie in her fire #boy with a broken halo #Katie is a beautiful GODDESS WHO WRITES LIKE A MUSE FROM GREEK MYTHOLOGY #HAIL #The Price of Freedom

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someinvisible-string · 7 years

Text

Born in Pain (15/20?)

Summary: District Nurse and midwife Emma Swan has her priorities sorted out: babies first, friends second, and men… somewhere further down the list. That is until she meets Killian Jones and his son Liam who have a way of worming their way into her heart

A/N: OKAY SO I know that it has been approximately 87 years since I've updated this fic and honestly, I have no excuse beyond an uncooperative muse and things in my personal life blowing up in my face. I was uninspired and low key depressed and just not in a good place. I'm so so sorry that I haven't been updating or writing and that I left y'all hanging but I promise I never once thought about completely abandoning this fic. I just had to set it on the backburner for a bit but I'm back now! I can't promise regular weekly or bi-weekly updates but you all have my word that this fic will be completed at some point.

Also huge shout outs to @shipsxahoy for the beautiful banner!

Word Count: ~4.5K/ Rated D for Daddy Issues

Ch.14/ AO3/ FF.net

"So let me get this straight, you think that my son is the long lost baby you gave up because they have the same birthday and you to quote 'just know'? Miss Swan, I'm sorry but this sounds incredibly far-fetched," Regina said as she, Emma, and Killian sat in her study.

"Believe me I know, but I just I know it in my bones that Henry is the same baby that I gave up all those years ago," Emma said.

"Exactly you gave him up, so you do not get to waltz into our lives and expect to be his mother. I am his mother Miss Swan," Regina glared at her.

"Regina that's not what she's asking," Killian squeezed Emma's hand comfortingly.

"I just want a chance to meet him, just so he knows who I am. And if all goes well I would like to get to know him."

"Well that's all good and noble but you are forgetting one thing, Miss Swan," Regina cleared her throat, "You have no proof that my Henry is your son, now I'm very moved by your story but as his mother I cannot trust the safety of my son in a complete stranger with a sad story."

"You saw me," Emma said tears forming in her eyes, "That day that you picked him up, you saw me running after your car. You were in a black car and he was wrapped in a yellow blanket and I know that you saw me."

Regina looked stunned, her mouth hanging open slightly. "That was you?"

"Yes."

Regina looked down at her hands, tongue firmly between her teeth as she mulled over her thoughts before looking up, "You will understand that I want to verify this as fully as I can before I agree to anything?"

"I understand and I, fortunately, have access to those records," Emma explained, "When you're a midwife you get access to that information," she answered Regina's quirked eyebrow.

"I see," Regina pursed her lips together. "How soon can you get your hands on them?"

"Next week."

Regina sighed and closed her eyes, her fingertips massaging her temples, "Well then bring them to me by next week and I'll a have barrister look over them and draw up an agreement in writing. Is this amenable to you?"

"Yes, although I have one more question," Emma said searching for the right words. "How much does Henry know about this situation?"

"He knows he's adopted if that's what you're asking," Regina said sharply, "I at least managed to do that in between the midnight feedings, temper tantrums, and school projects."

"Regina, I'm not here to disrespect you or to erase everything you've done these past eleven years, I'm not disputing that you are Henry's mother. I just want a chance to get to know him now that I have the opportunity. I'll have the records sent to you by the end of this week if you need to reach me just ring Antioch House."

"I'll be in touch," Regina said through clenched teeth. Emma sensed that despite the woman's trepidations she would keep her word.

"You did brilliantly love," Killian said as they walked out of Regina's house.

"I did?" Emma let out a shaky breath.

"Of course, not many people can stand their ground against her like you do. It's actually one of the most attractive parts of you," he said, a hungry look in his eye.

"Easy tiger, I have to go on my rounds as soon as we get back to the East End," Emma quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Tonight then? It's pasta night at Chez Jones," he grinned smugly at her.

"Hmmm well I do love pasta," Emma mused, "I suppose I could stop by after I'm finished with my rounds." The bus slowed to a stop on the corner that Antioch House sat, Emma stood up from her seat only to have Killian catch her hand in his.

He placed a tender kiss to her knuckle, "Until I see you tonight my lady."

"You are such a charmer," Emma rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Only for you love," he called as she hurried off the bus. She was able to run into the convent and throw on her uniform and dash back downstairs to get her assignments.

"Cutting it close Nurse Swan," Sister Ingrid chided with a small smile.

"I know I'm sorry Sister, we hit a spot of traffic on the way back," Emma apologized.

"Here are your rounds for today, all of them pretty standard check-ins except for your last one. Marco Bonardi has been having some heart problems and I'm afraid he's not doing well and the situation needs to handled delicately."

"The old Italian who runs the furniture shop, he's always been so sweet. I can handle this," Emma nodded.

"Wait, Nurse Swan, Mr. Bonardi is in a very bad place. He refused treatment until his son insisted that he see Doctor Whale. There's quite a lot of tension there, but I know that you can handle it if things start to get ugly," Sister Ingrid warned.

"Hello Mr. Bonardi," Emma said brightly as she strode into his room, "How have you been feeling today?"

"No better than I felt yesterday," Marco grimaced as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. "And please call me Marco."

"Lie back, I'll let you know when you need to get up," Emma placed her hand on his shoulder. Even through his thick sweater and nightshirt, Emma could feel how thin he had become. "Marco is there someone who can look after you during the day? Make sure you're eating? Call us if anything is wrong?"

"Yes, my store keeper can call you," Marco nodded.

"He also has me," a voice asserted. Emma turned to see a tall man with dark hair and striking blue eyes standing in the doorway.

"And you are?"

"He is no one," Marco huffed.

"My name's August Booth, I'm his son," the man stepped into the room but still kept a few paces back from the bed.

"Feh your name is Agostino Bonardi. This August Booth is no son of mine."

Emma felt her eyebrows shoot practically up to her hairline, she busied herself with rummaging through her medical bag as she searched for a way to dissolve the tension in the room. "Why don't I take your blood pressure, Marco?"

Marco held out his arm her for but kept his stern gaze on August who stared at the floor. Tension filled the room as Emma explained to Marco and August that she would be there every evening to give Marco an injection and to check his ankles and the sore on his shoulder.

"Nurse Swan, do you have any children?" Marco interrupted her rambling.

"Um-" Emma stood gobsmacked and trying to find the right way to answer.

"You young people are so lucky, lives stretching out in front of you full of opportunity. No one to break your heart."

"Papa-" August said softly.

"You do not get to call me that, not since you've spit on everything I spent my life building for you."

Emma could tell that nothing she said at that moment would ease the tension in the room, she kept her eyes down as she repacked her bag and bid Marco and his son goodbye. She hurried down the stairs towards the back of Marco's furniture shop and only slowed when she heard August's heavy footsteps following her.

"I'm sorry about that," he said when he caught up to her.

"It's not the worst I've seen, believe me," Emma smiled sympathetically at him.

"It wasn't my idea to change my name," he said quickly, "My publisher thought it would be better if I changed it to something more neutral sounding."

"I'm sure your father will come around."

"I changed my name 3 years ago and you just saw the first time he spoke to me." Emma tried to school her face into a plain expression but couldn't help that her eyebrows knitted together. "Don't let that color your opinion of him too much, we had a huge row and I told him to never speak to me. And to be fair it's not as if I reached out before this."

"Well you're here now, that has to count for something."

"I don't know if it's enough though," August looked back towards the stairs, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"All you can do right now is try. You can't control how your father is going to react, but you can control your actions."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, "I'll see you tomorrow?" Emma nodded before throwing her leg over her bike and settling herself onto the seat.

"Everything all right love?" Killian asked as Emma walked into his flat.

"It's nothing, just a tough patient," Emma shrugged off her coat and handed it to Killian's outstretched hand.

"Want to talk about it?"

"You know I can't, part of patient confidentiality."

"Oh right, well if there's anything I can do just let me know Swan."

"Any chance that pasta's ready? I'm starving," Emma smiled hopefully.

"Aye love, just a few more minutes until dinner is served. Liam!" he called down the hall, "dinner's almost ready. Time to wash up lad."

"But I'm almost done with this chapter!"

"And it'll still be there after dinner, now come wash up!"

Emma watched as Liam came out of his room and stomped to the kitchen sink to wash his hands; he really was the spitting image of Killian right down to the way their eyebrows nearly had a mind of their own. Once everyone had washed up they sat at the small kitchen table to eat, trading stories about their day.

"Dad the Cub Scouts are going on a field trip out to the country new weekend, can I go?"

"Sure, do I need to sign something?"

"Nurse Lucas will be giving them out at the next meeting I expect."

"Well then, I don't see why you can't go, just make sure you don't fall behind on your school work."

Emma was lost in thought, had Marco and August had conversations like this one all those years ago? Had Marco checked August's school work and signed permission slips? Had they ever been close the way Killian and Liam were now?

"Swan? Swan? Emma!" Killian pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Oh sorry, I was just thinking for a minute there. What were we talking about?"

"If you wanted to back into town with me next weekend since it appears I'll have the day to myself." Emma knew he was talking about going to see Regina and possibly Henry.

"Maybe, I'll have to see if I have that weekend off."

"You don't get all weekends off?" Liam asked.

"It comes with being a midwife, some just can't wait until Monday to come out."

"You'd think they'd be more considerate," Liam smirked.

Emma and Killian chuckled, "Well babies have different things to worry about than being considerate to midwives I suppose."

"Liam, why don't you go back to your book lad?" Killian said but Emma could feel him looking at her.

"You mean I don't have to do the dishes?"

"I know how exciting Captain Nemo's adventures can be, go on." Liam shot up from his seat and practically ran back to his room. Emma helped Killian gather up the dishes to put in the sink, mentally preparing herself for what she knew would come.

"You seem vexed love."

"I told you I'm fine Killian."

"Forgive me Swan but I'm not buying it; you've always been something of an open book to me and I can tell that something is bothering you more so than just a difficult patient. Are you nervous about meeting Henry? That he'll resent you? Because I have known that boy almost his entire life and I can tell you he'll love you."

"I wasn't worried about that, well I am but that isn't what's on my mind tonight." Emma took a deep breath, trying to carefully find her words. "Is there anything Liam could do to make you not love him anymore? Something to disown him?"

Killian looked taken aback, "Not love Liam? No never. I'd never abandon my son."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I bloody well know what it feels like when a father abandons you," Killian said harshly. Emma gasped softly and Killian looked ashamed of himself. "Emma I'm sorry, it's just that man could hardly call himself a father after what he did to my brother and my mother and me."

"What happened?"

"He loved betting on horses more than he loved us. Until one day when it caught up to him and he couldn't pay up on a bet. So he up and left us in the middle of the night; it nearly destroyed mum I remember there were days that she just couldn't get out of bed let alone care for the both of us. So my brother had to take on being the man of the house, he worked and made sure we had food on the table and that I stayed out of trouble. And despite my best efforts to be a rebellious little shite everything seemed to work, we weren't well off but we were getting by and as the years went by mum started getting better. That is right up until the war, Liam felt it was his duty to join the Navy; he didn't make it back. They got attacked in the middle of the damn Atlantic, he had to have done something especially heroic, they gave my mother and I a medal at his funeral."

"It's not enough, is it?" Emma placed a hand on his cheek and saw tears collecting in his eyes.

"Not at all, naming my son after him still doesn't feel like enough after all he did. I can only hope I'm doing half as much for little Liam than my brother did for me. He was a much better man than I could ever hope to be."

"You're a better man than you know Killian," Emma stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him properly. "There's not many who love their children as unconditionally as you love your son."

Marco's condition did not improve with Emma's daily visits; she knew that she was only prolonging the inevitable but she didn't feel that her job would be done if there wasn't any improvement between Marco and August. The problem was that neither of them knew how to approach the other. Emma could see that August was searching for something to say and that Marco was waiting for him to say something.

August had taken to sitting in a chair in the corner of the room during Emma's visits, looking everywhere but at his father, before coming up with an excuse to leave the room. Emma could see the hurt and disappointment in Marco's eyes each time his son turned to leave before he spat out a disdainful "Goodbye, Mr. Booth" to his son's retreating back.

"August why don't I teach you how to perform some lymphatic massage, just in case your father needs it when I'm not here."

"Oh no, I don't think that'll be a good idea."

"I'd much prefer it if you do it, Nurse."

"Honestly you both are just as bad as the other; now August hold out your hands," Emma pulled a bottle of oil out of her medicine kit and poured a small amount into August's trembling hand.

"Now, grasp your father's ankle firmly and push your hands up to his knee," Emma instructed once she had pulled back the bed sheets to reveal Marco's slightly swollen feet.

August gulped and did as instructed but applied barely any pressure.

"Try going a little harder, we need to improve your father's circulation."

"If he had stayed here and run the shop instead of running off to write in his fancy flat he wouldn't have such delicate hands," Marco said.

"Marco it's probably for the best if we have some quiet right now," Emma said forcefully. "You're doing great August, just a little more pressure." She watched as August massaged his father's ankles and calves, her eyes flicked to Marco's face. His gaze was fixed on his son and his face unreadable as Emma coached August through massaging the other legs.

"Right well I think I've got the hang of it now," August got up off of the foot of the bed. "I'd best wash up." He walked quickly out of the room, Emma thought she saw his hand come up to wipe his eyes but turned her attention to pulling the sheets and blankets down to cover Marco's feet.

"You must think that I am an awful man," he said.

"I don't think that at all," Emma assured him. "My wife and I we tried for so long to have a child and then things began to happen back in the old country. Friends going missing, hundreds arrested and shipped into exile, it was not safe to stay there and certainly no place to raise a family. So my wife and I, we move here and open the shop and a year later she told me she was expecting," an easy smile spread across Marco's face as he seemed to savor the memory. "But you know what happened then, the Blitz, they took her from me and left just me and Agostino alone together."

"Marco I'm so sorry, that cannot have been easy."

"It wasn't raising a teenager on my own but I tried to teach him everything I knew, just as my father had done for me and his father before him. I wanted to be supportive of his writing but one day he comes up to me all excited about getting published and he thrusts this bundle of pages into my hands and I see the name he has chosen for himself and it felt as if he turned his back on everything I have done for him. As if he didn't want to be associated with all of this that my wife and I had built for him."

"I'm sure that's not true, that can't be true."

"You don't have to protect my feelings Nurse, I am an old man and I know that I'm dying. Whatever you have to say to me can't hurt as bad as that."

"Then you'll forgive me for suggesting this Marco, but you might try meeting your son halfway. It could work wonders" Emma snapped her medical bag shut and stood up to leave.

"But what if that doesn't work Nurse?" Marco asked, Emma turned back and was struck for the first time just how ill he was, his pajamas and sweater hung off his body making him look even thinner than he was, his skin was so pale it looked nearly translucent, and his breathing was raspy and uneven.

"I can't make promises, but I will say that you can only control your actions. You can go to bed at night knowing that at least you tried."

"I see, thank you, Nurse Swan," Marco said, clutching his blankets and not quite meeting her eyes, "I'll see you tomorrow I suppose."

"Good night Marco," Emma nodded as she left, hoping that there was still enough time for him to even attempt to make amends. Over the next few days Marco's health was at a standstill, while he wasn't getting any worse he also wasn't improving no matter what Emma tried. It did seem that August and Marco's relationship was getting better, even if the improvement was minute. August now sat in on the entire visit instead of ducking out halfway through, Emma could also tell that he was continuing to massage his father's feet when she wasn't there. Marco at the very least wasn't glaring at August throughout Emma's visits and Emma could have sworn she saw a copy of August's book wedged between his mattress and the bed frame.

Until Emma got the call she had been dreading from August, "Nurse Swan please come quickly!" August had panted into the phone, "My father, he's not breathing right nurse and I don't know what to do."

"All right, I'm on my way August, just make sure he's breathing and that he stays calm. I'll be there as quick as I can." Emma grabbed her medical bag and raced down the stairs of the convent and peddled as fast as her legs could to the furniture shop. In no time Emma was up the stairs and examining Marco.

"His heart rate is very fast," Emma said removing her stethoscope. "Try massaging his ankles and feet, we need to try to improve his circulation while we can."

"Nurse Swan," Marco wheezed, his hand reaching up towards her, "Tell the truth. Am I dying?"

Emma paused, at a loss for words, truthfully he was. He was dying and the most that she could do was ensure that he was comfortable. "Yes," she nodded at him, tears starting to cloud her vision, "I'm so sorry Mr. Bonardi."

"No no, don't be sorry. I have had my time and I'm afraid that I've wasted a large part of it."

"You didn't and you still have some time to make things right," Emma whispered to him before looking towards August.

"Papa," August sank into a chair near the bed, "Papa I'm so sorry. I should never have turned my back on you."

"No no no my boy, it is I who should be sorry." Marco held out his hand, curled with age and still calloused from a lifetime of work. August clasped it in his own hand and tears fell down his face. "I was the one to turn my back on you. You are my son and I forgot that."

"Papa…"

"Let me finish, I only have so much time left. Whether you are August Booth or Agostino Bonardi, you are my son. I love you."

"I love you too," August choked out and kissed his father's knuckles.

"I only wish that I could finish your book, I was just getting to the good part," Marco chuckled before coughing.

"Well it's fitting, I was working on this," August pulled a small wooden whale from his pocket. "I know I'm a little rusty but-"

"You always had a talent for carving, but maybe you should stick to writing," Marco smiled before taking one last breath. A small smile remained etched on his face as August began to sob still clutching his father's hand. Emma reached forward and gently closed Marco's eyes and pull the bed sheet up to cover Marco's face.

Emma sat at the back of the church for Marco's wake with Killian and the other midwives. It had been a somber occasion as Marco had been known and well liked throughout the community having made most of their furniture with care and skill. She listened as the priest spoke about Marco and lead them all in prayer. It wasn't long before it was over and they were all dismissed and she and Killian walked hand in hand down the church steps.

"Emma wait!" Emma turned to see August jogging down the steps to meet them. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did."

"Your welcome, I was only doing my job," Emma blushed.

"No, you did much more than you were asked to and I can't even think of a way to properly thank you."

"Really you're welcome; I did everything I could for him. So what are you going to do now? I heard Marco left you the shop."

"I'm going to keep it open, I figured I'd get back to my roots," August shrugged and smiled.

"What about your writing?"

"I'll still be doing that too; woodworker by day and writer by night. I think that'll make him happy."

"I'm sure it would, good luck August."

"Same to you Nurse Swan," he smiled before turning on his heel and walking back towards the church.

"You really are a marvel you know that," Killian said as they began to walk.

"Only because you mention it so often. Thank you for coming with me by the way."

"Of course plus Marco was a great man. Loved Liam and made him some toys when he was a wee lad. And speaking of lad's," he turned to her with a serious expression.

"I called Regina, she had a barrister look over the records you sent her. She's agreed to let you and Henry spend some time together if you're ready for it?"

Emma looked back at the church thinking about everything she had seen the past couple of weeks, "Yes I'm ready. I want to meet my son."

tagging: @timeless-love-story, @leatherjacketsandrum, @captainswanismyendgame, @potentialheartofdarkness, @a-faekindagirl, @caprelloidea, @stardusted-nymph, @survivorjace, @captainstudmuffin, @ouat-upon-a-coconut, @captainswanandclintasha, @captainswanapproved, @brooke-to-broch, @xemmaloveskillianx, @xerxesrises, @xhookswenchx, @hook-come-back-to-me, @lenfaz, @sherifffjones, @fefefeferniss

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