#since we were a lot closer than people generally are with their grandparents/parents later in life/in laws | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hopesbarnes · 4 years

Text

Rosey Inn

Summary: Ten years ago you left your small town and small-town boyfriend believing you were destined for bigger and better things. But when your mom passes away and leaves the family Inn to you, you’re forced to face all you left behind.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Maybe two curse words, fluff, angst, loss of parent

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: This was written for @wxntersoldiers 6k AU Challenge, I had the prompt Roomates!AU.

Also a huge thank you to @starbxcks for beta reading this. Love you to pieces. (PS spot the gilmore girl reference and i’ll love you forever)

This was not the plan. None of this was the plan. Your entire life had meticulously put together to reach one goal. And now? Now you’re sharing a house with a boy you haven’t seen in a decade, back in your home town, and owning an inn.

Talk about cliche.

The town of Rose Hill is quaint. One supermarket, one high school, everyone knows everyone’s name quaint. The people are kind and overly lax in security and come together for events. It sits near a beautiful lake and is known for its tourism. The kind of place people dream of living. The perfect American lifestyle.

Just not your dream. Since you were little you wanted one thing. To be a big shot New York lawyer. The kind that people know will get them off for any crime, and anything. You were going to be the success story of Rose Hill, the one to get out. The one to make it.

And you did. Got accepted into an Ivy League, finished school, and joined a practice. Until you got the phone call, that your mom passed away and left the family business to you. There went all your plans, all your dreams, everything. You were right back where you started in Rose Hill.

The Rosey Inn was a landmark, built long before your grandparents were even born. Passed down through generations of L/Ns. Each owned/managed the inn and raised their families in it. You spent your childhood hiding in the maids closet, tasting the chef’s recipes, tending to the front garden, and reorganizing the books in the front room.

You didn’t play alone though, you had Bucky. Bucky Barnes was your best friend and eventual boyfriend. His mom was a maid for the inn, and the pair of you grew up together. He was your everything and first love. But when you left for New York you wanted a fresh start, one that didn’t include the boy who’s life aspirations were to own a hardware store. So you dumped him and left, without saying goodbye.

Your past was but a distant memory. Until you were back and looking at the familiar inn.

“Y/N! Oh, how I missed you!” you hear the voice of Wanda, your best friend say.

“What are you doing here!” you ask greeting the red-headed girl. She had moved here Junior year of high school and you became fast friends. She was the only one you had contact with after leaving.

“Well, I took over as nighttime manager. And when I heard about your mom I decided to fill in on daytime until you could move back. I’m so sorry about her Y/N,” she says with sincerity in her voice.

“She’s been sick for a while, I’m just happy she’s out of pain now,” you say and pull her into a hug.

“I’ll let you settle in, then tomorrow we can go over the inn and what needs to happen.”

“Thank you Wanda for everything,” you say and head to the house.

The inn set back from the road, with plenty of space in front for parking and picnic areas. Behind it sat a large outdoor eating area, and a gazebo. But if you take the trail to the left, it leads to your childhood home. A three-bedroom house, with two floors and far enough to not be part of the inn, but close enough you could be there in case of an emergency.

You expected the place to be overgrown and in need of a cleaning, but it looked as new as the day it was built. And a car was out front.

When you get closer to the house the door opens and you swear you jump ten feet into the air, only to hear the voice of the one person you hoped to avoid.

“Been a while sugar,” he says smiling.

James Buchanan Barnes looks as good as he did ten years ago when you abandoned him. No scratch that, he looked better. The years did him good, his jaw was more chiseled and light scruff covered his face. His arm filled out and he wore a button-down. He looked refined, older but damn good looking.

“Sure has handy boy,” you smile back. “What are you doing in my home.”

“Must have your lines crossed, I live here now,” he says mischief across his face and eyebrow raised.

“In my childhood home?” you ask perplexed.

“Your momma was having a tough time the past few years and needed some help. She said I could live here if I helped her out. And when she got sick she put the house in my name too, saying you would need just as much, if not more, help when you got back.”

“So we’re roommates?” you ask hoping this was all a joke.

“Sure are,” he smiles, “let me help you with your bag.”

“I have movers coming in a few days with the rest of my things, just brought enough until then.”

You walk into the home and it’s not the dusty and doily place you remember it. The furniture is all-new, and the decor is modern. The living room has a grey fabric couch with navy throw pillows and a coffee table with a cookbook and tray on it. There’s a sleek floor lamp next to it and a flat-screen tv across atop a tv stand with movies neatly packed inside. A soft rug is on the floor with a diamond pattern on it. The entire room looks like a page from a catalog and if your suspicions are right the rest of the house is as follows.

“I took the guest bedroom when I moved in, so your old bedroom is still yours,” he says and you nod heading up the stairs following him to your childhood bedroom. When he opens the door you see it’s the one room that hasn’t changed. It still looks as it did when you were 18 years old and leaving to be on your own.

“I’m gonna have to update this room!” you say pointing to the outdated poster on your wall.

“Your mom didn’t want to change it, she insisted it remains the way you left it,” he says with a sad smile. You may have lost your mom, but that didn’t mean he didn’t lose her too.

“So many memories in this room,” you say and let a few flood back. Bucky’s cheeks heat up and you look down ashamed. He had to be thinking of the time the two of you first made love. You were 17, had the house to yourself, and did what you could on the small twin bed.

“I’ll leave you to settle in, then we could get dinner?” he asks and you nod. You unpack the few outfits you brought along and mentally map out what furniture you’ll replace with the one from your apartment. After getting a little bit of the initial shock of being back, you sit down and take a deep breath. Not only were you going to be running an inn, but apparently you were going to be roommates with the only man you’ve ever really loved. Life really does throw curveballs, doesn’t it?

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

The rest of the night was slightly awkward. Bucky ordered pizza and the two of you made idle chit chat while eating it. He offered to hang out with you, but you wanted to get up and going early so you decided to retire to your room instead. He gave a pained smile and wished you a good night.

The next morning you woke up at dawn, a habit you had from being in law. Late nights and early mornings. After showering you get dressed in nice pants, a blouse, and some sneakers since you would be walking a lot today. You made a mental checklist of what needed to be done: meeting with Wanda and looking over the inn, visiting the safety deposit box, and arranging for a storage unit for the rest of your furniture.

When you got downstairs Bucky was already dressed, in dark jeans and a flannel shirt over a faded t-shirt.

“Morning,” he said and slid a cup of coffee your way.

“Thanks,” you say and take a sip from the mug.

“I took the day off from the store and figured I could help you out today.”

“You didn’t need to do that. You’ve already done way more for my family than you ever needed to.”

“I love your family, even used to think they’d be my family one day,” he says. The last part comes out quieter than the rest and you feel a flood of guilt.

“I’m meeting with Wanda in twenty minutes, but after could you help me run errands around town?”

“Anything. I gotta fix up the back steps to the inn this mornin’ anyway. Might as well do them now,” he says lowering the coffee cup. He goes across the counter to where his glove is and puts it over his hand.

Back in high school, he was attempting to make a table for his ma. He got distracted though and sawed into his arm. They had tried to save it, but the damage was done. Word had gone through the town and one woman told her fiancee (who just happened to be Tony Stark CEO of Stark Industries) and Bucky got a state of the art metal prosthetic. But you guess he was still embarrassed by it and hid it around everyone. Everyone but you it seems.

The meeting with Wanda was exhausting. She went over everything from payroll, to linen deliveries, to the filing system. There was a wedding scheduled three and a half months from now that took the majority of the time, as your mom was originally in charge of the day. But everything seemed manageable with help. You moved Wanda to the official daytime desk manager and promoted Clint Barton to the nighttime manager. Wanda said he functioned best at night anyway. She introduced you to the other members of the team, Vision (her husband) was the head chef. Scott Lang was the bartender at night and events, Peter Parker was the bellhop on duty at the time. She said you would meet the rest of the staff at a later time, and that there weren’t any bad seeds in the bunch.

The two of you ate lunch together in the dining room and she filled you in on the staff gossip, little things to help run the inn better. Like how Clint needed coffee or would forget he was even alive, or how Peter Parker could usually lift more than you’d think but if MJ (his girlfriend walked in) he would almost always get distracted and walk into a wall.

After lunch, you texted Bucky (he had given you his new number last night) and met him at his car.

“How was lunch,” he asks, walking up to you. His sleeves were rolled up now and he had sunglasses on. His hair is a mess and his undershirt has paint stains on it. He’s got his toothy grin plastered across his face, and it’s the exact same one you fell in love with as a teen.

“Good, you fix up those stairs?” you ask and get into his car. He had a dark green pickup that was in desperate need of a wash. There was a toolbox in the back, but the front was spotless.

“Yeah, even painted over them too.” Bucky was always the fixer. Helped out whenever he could, and didn’t mind getting a little roughed up in the process. It was always the biggest difference between you. Your life was carefully crafted and there was no room for mess.

The ride is quiet. You don’t even know what small talk to make with him anymore. Do you bring up sports? Ask about his mom? Tell him about New York? It all seemed too stiff and meaningless.

You finally get to the bank and he offers to pick up some tea for you and him while you go to empty your mom’s safety deposit box. He knew this was something you needed to do alone, so he gave you your space.

The bank had one small room of the locked boxes, and the teller came with you holding the second key to the box. Once the box was unlocked you moved to a small table and chair surrounded by walls for privacy. The bank teller leaves you alone with the contents and you take a deep breath in.

Inside the metal box are a few papers, your parent’s marriage certificate, and the deed to the house and the inn amongst them. There are also a few family heirlooms, two necklaces, and a ring. Your great grandpa’s watch is also in the box. But what sticks out is a letter with your name on it. You pull it out and read it.

“Dear Y/N,

If you’re reading this then I’m gone. We both knew this day would come and would bring you home to where you belong. Years ago you left, and I know you needed to do that. You had dreams of a better and bigger life, but you have to know in your heart that Rose Hill is where you need to be.

I’m sure by now you have seen that Bucky lives in the house. He moved in a few years ago to help me out, and I told him to stay after I go. Y/N, I know you don’t want to hear this- especially from your mother, but he is the one. You two were meant to be. As soon as you stop running from that, you’ll feel at peace. He’s a good man and you need to let him have your heart again.

I trust you’ll handle the inn with grace and hopefully not sell it. It’s been in our family for many lifetimes, and I want it to continue that way. But if it’s too much give it to James. He’s family whether the pair of you are together or not.

Be kind to yourself dear.

Love,

Mom

You place the letter down and let the tears fall. It was too soon, you should have had her longer. And despite your best intentions of coming, staying a few months maybe a year and finding new owners you know you have to stay for good now. And for Bucky, you don’t even know. Bucky was the past, wasn’t he?

After you left the bank you went by a storage place then back to the room. The past three weeks have been a blur. The wedding was in less than three months and the bride decided to change the entire decoration scheme to be more ‘woodsy than classical’ and you were still figuring out what that even meant. Besides that, you were trying to figure out how to run an inn. People required directions you didn’t have so you were overwhelmed.

Between the running around you were spending all the time you could reading articles and going through the binder your mom kept. You never really understood how much time and energy your parents put into running this place. Growing up you just thought they greeted people and were friends with the staff. It never dawned on you that running an inn is more than just owning the property.

The spare minutes you had left were spent settling into your old life. Originally you planned to come back for a year and then move back. This was going to be a blip on the radar of your life. But you know now that was unrealistic and this is where you belong. So you officially list your place rather than lease it for a year. You formally quit your job, and you’d still have to fly back eventually for cases next year but that was a ways away.

In the mornings you shared a coffee with Bucky, and at night the two of you ate dinner together. It was comfortable but awkward. Which was your fault. You knew it was your fault, you broke his heart and left. But you just didn’t know how to fix that.

Most mornings were silent. You weren’t a morning person and Bucky wasn’t a talker. But today he had something to say. It only took three weeks, but better late than never.

“Natasha and Steve invited us over,” he says and you nearly drop your cup.

“They got back together?” you ask completely shocked.

While Wanda was who you stayed in touch with and one of your closest friends, Natasha was your best friend beside Bucky. The two of you met in dance class and became close. In middle school, she started dating Steve, who is Bucky’s best friend. They were the perfect pair, she was the fiery redheaded dancer and he was the timid but loyal baseball player. However, in Junior year of high school, they broke up after Natasha got drunk at a party and admitted that Steve wasn’t her first.

He had felt betrayed that she lied and broke up with her and she sobbed on your shoulder for a whole week. You and Bucky got in a fight about it too because he had taken Steve’s side and said she shouldn’t have lied. You fiercely defend Natasha though. It wasn’t her fault she had a hookup with an asshole that she tried to forget.

“Yeah. After high school, Steve and I got a place together while we went to the community college. One day we decided to go to a party at the university in the city. And the next day Natasha was in my kitchen. They had a ‘benefits’ only relationship for a few months before realizing they were idiots and got back together officially. Tied the knot maybe four years ago?” he explains.

“I’d love to see them again,” you say cordially. Hopefully, they didn’t resent you for leaving.

“We’ll go over for dinner?” he asks and you nod.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Good morning!” Wanda sings when you see her. She’s awfully cheery today and dressed up. She has a black lace dress with a high neckline. She’s wearing a pair of velvet burgundy heels and looks stellar.

“You are way too happy and look amazing today. Why?!” you ask laughing and she laughs with you.

“I may have an appointment with an adoption agency today,” she says smiling.

“WHAT! Oh my god! Wanda, that’s so exciting!” you say and pull her into a hug. Wanda’s wanted kids since you were 16 and found out a few years ago she can’t get pregnant.

“I don’t want to get too excited because it’s going to take a while. But we’re starting the process,” she says.

“I wish you and Vis the best. I’m so excited Wan.”

The day went by in a flash. Wanda had to leave early so you were on your own for part of the day. But it went good and you were finally feeling like you had this in the bag.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

You get back from work and change into more casual clothes. When you get downstairs Bucky is waiting in a leather jacket. You can tell he’d showered since work because his hair is still damp and he isn’t covered in his signature dirt and sawdust.

“Ready?” he asks and you smile.

“As I’ve ever been,” you say and he leads you out to his truck. Your car had been brought here two weeks ago so you didn’t have to rely on him to drive you everywhere anymore but it made sense to go in one car for this.

The Rogers live in a nice house with a large backyard across town. It’s no more than a 15-minute drive, and you arrive at the house with a flower garden outside and scattered kids’ toys in the yard.

“They have kids?” you ask your eyes widening at the idea of Natasha Romanoff with children.

Bucky laughs, “Twins! A happy surprise though. You’ll love my godchildren.”

“You’re a godfather?” you ask trying to not let the sadness of all you missed seep in.

“Yeah, why they hypothetically trusted me with their literal children I don’t know.”

The two of you walk up to the door and before you can open it a flash of red hair is seen and then you’re encompassed in a tight hug.

“I really missed you,” she says and the two of you move in a circle without letting each other go. A few tears fall from your face but you wipe them away.

“Hi Natty,” you say and she smiles pulling apart. She moves your hair from your face and tilts her head at you.

“If it isn’t my best friend finally. You look amazing. I really missed you,” she says and pulls you into another hug. It seems she holds no malice against you and a weight leaves your shoulders.

“I missed you too Mrs. Rogers,” you say and tilt your head smirking.

“C’mon in Steve’s cooking and I have two people for you to meet.”

When you walk into the living room you’re greeted by two three-year-olds.

“Y/N meet Sarah and James,” she says motioning to the two blondes. “Sarah and James meet your aunt Y/N.”

The two kids wave and smile and say hi synchronously. They were adorable and had Natty’s eyes.

“No hello to me?” Steve says coming in the room and you walk over and give him a hug. “We missed you here, big shot.”

“I missed you guys too. All of you,” you say and look over at Bucky. He lets a small smile cover his face but drops it when he sees you looking.

Over dinner, they fill you in on what you missed. After school, Natasha took over the local dance studio and turned it into a competition studio that was doing fairly well. They were winning titles and having girls travel just to be taught by her. Steve on the other hand became a teacher and is teaching high school history as well as coaching the baseball team. It’s as if no time had passed and the four of you are talking like you did growing up. The kids warm up to you and sit next to you and draw pictures with you.

When their bedtime comes Bucky and Steve wrangle them and agree to read stories, so Natasha pulls you outside to the patio.

“So,” she says and you give her a confused look. “What’s it like living with your ex-boyfriend?” she says and you gulp.

“Oh. That,” you say. “That is bringing up feelings I don’t want.”

“I always thought you two would get married at 19. He was so lost after you left. We all were but especially him. And he still looks at you as if you hung the moon.”

“I broke his heart, it’s not fair of me to do this to him again,” you say and she grabs your hand.

“Babe, you were young and messed up. Don’t let that get in the way of your happiness.”

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

Natasha’s words hang on your conscious for a while. Every time you look at Bucky for the next two weeks you think of them.

The two of you start talking over coffee in the morning, and there’s definitely long wanting gazes and the need to be close. He’ll touch your hand when handing you something, and you’ll fix his hair and lay your head on his shoulder while watching movies.

He tells you jokes over texts and you send him gifs every time he complains about a customer. You were falling back into the way you used to be and you are so happy.

On Friday he asked if you guys could talk after work. Which was his right, he needed answers and you needed to ask about your mom. It had been two months now since you returned and you needed to air it all out. But knowing this made you feel jittery all day long. You kept spacing out or walking into the wrong room and everyone could tell you were a mess. It got to the point where you were doing more harm than good and Wanda sent you home.

It turns out that Bucky had finished early that day too because when you got home he was there.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“Hi sugar,” he says smiling.

“You finished your day handy boy?” you ask and take your jacket off and hang it on the hook.

“Sure did. Only had a few customers at the store and figured I could close up early. And there was no fixing to do at the inn so I figured I would come back and relax for the night. How about you?”

“Wanda sent me home. Said I was ‘hurting her flow’. You wanna order some food tonight?” you ask trying to keep up some small talk.

“What I really want is to get drunk and have you be honest with me,” he says bluntly forgetting the politeness his mama taught him.

“Well, Okay. That- We can do that. Still need some food I’ll order some Chinese.” you say pulling out your phone to order delivery from the shop down the road.

An hour later the two of you have eaten and are both slightly tipsy.

“Why’d you break up with me Y/N?” he asks finally.

You turn to him and shrug, “I wanted to be successful and I thought I needed someone who wanted the same success as me. I wanted to leave the past behind and that meant you. But I was too chicken shit to tell you. James, I regretted it every day.”

He gulps audibly and takes a long swig from his drink.

“I was so lost. I was going to marry you. Move up north with you. I knew that was where you needed to be and I wanted to be who you needed too.” he says.

“You were who I needed. Still are if we’re being honest. I just didn’t know that then.” you say and look down embarrassed. I thought you’d have moved on now. Settled with a nice girl, maybe Maria or Darcy. Had a few kids.” you admit.

“Can’t settle down when you’re still hung up on a girl,” he says and you look at him.

“Bucky I still love you. But you don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better.” you say.

“I deserve you. And as much as I want to show you that we’re both drunk and you’re still dealing with grief,” he says.

“So what now?” you ask.

“Now we wait. Make sure this is right and not just unresolved feelings,” he says.

“And if it is?” you ask.

“Then I move out and we pretend this never happened,” he says and downs the rest of his drink. You follow suit.

“Can I ask something?” you say after a few moments of quiet.

“Anytime sug, I’m an open book.”

“Was she mad? I didn’t come home when she got sick and I barely talked to her after dad died. I should have come back. I was a bad daughter,” you say and a tear falls down your face. He grabs your hand that was peeling a label off the bottle.

“Honey, she wasn’t mad. She was so proud of you. Told everyone about your cases and watched the news whenever you were mentioned. You made her so proud.”

“Thank you for being there for her.”

“She was my family too. I think we should get some rest though. It’s been a long night,” he says and you nod and head up to your room.

The next morning you wake up with a headache but see medicine and water on your bedside table. It’s then you decide that you were gonna try to make it up to Bucky. There was a chance to mend this and have the relationship you once had, and you had to take that chance. No way were you losing this man again. Once was hard enough. So you decide this time around you have to court him.

When the pair of you were young, only 13, Bucky had learned from Natasha through Steve at the time that you liked him. So he made it his mission to properly court you. It had started with notes and small trinkets, and after two weeks he knocked on your door with two bouquets of flowers (one for your momma and one for you) and asked your parents if it was alright if the pair of you dated.

They had of course said yes, knowing Bucky his entire life and planning your wedding with his parents when you were still kids. But back then you didn’t break his heart. Now you needed to figure out a way to mend it.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

There were two weeks until the wedding and you decided you needed to ask Bucky to be your ‘date’ there. He was obviously already invited because he was needed to make sure nothing broke and if it did it could be fixed. But you wanted him there as yours.

You woke up the next day early and went into town to get his favorite bagels and a rose. You got back to the house just as he made it downstairs and gave him the flower and food.

“Thank you? Why go through the hassle when we have food here?” he asks.

“I’m wooing you.”

“Doll, you do not need to woo me. I’m already wooed!” he says laughing.

“No, I messed up. And you deserve to be properly apologized to. So I’m wooing and you’re going to let me.”

“Okay,” he says shaking his head and taking a bite from his bagel.

Day one: success.

Day two starts when he gets back from work. You tell him that the pair of you are going on a date and tell him to wear a good pair of shoes. He gives you a weird look but agrees. You bring him to a club outside of town and once he sees it he can’t stop laughing.

When you and him were 16 you decided to try and get into a club. You both had horribly made fake ids and dressed up to look older. You were obviously turned away, but his car had refused to start after all that effort. So you both danced outside to his mp3 player while you waited for AAA to show up.

“I figured we could recreate that night, without AAA and the awful heels,” you say and he nods his head. You pull into the abandoned lot you spent hours in years ago. After parking, you grab your phone and put on a playlist of songs that were popular at that time and spend the next two hours just dancing. Completely embarrassingly and in a way nobody your age should. But it’s nice and the pair of you just let go.

Days three and four aren’t that eventful as you both have a lot of work. So instead you hide little notes throughout his things both days. They’re nothing special, just enough to let him know you’re thinking of him and how much you like him.

Day five you greet him after he closes the hardware store with a vintage Brooklyn Dodgers hat. His grandpa had loved the team and told Bucky all about them. You had to scour online for the hat and it was worth it when you saw the look on Bucky’s face. His eyes widened and he pulled you into a close hug. You would never admit it to him but you took a deep inhale of his scent.

Day 6’s plans were changed when Steve called and said Nat didn’t feel good and wondered if you would take the twins for the day and night. You told them you had to check with Bucky but would head over as soon as you heard from him.

Bucky of course was over the moon to have the kids over so you went and grabbed them after hanging up with him. When you got there Steve had packed each kid an overnight bag and handed them to you with their blankets and stuffed animals. Apparently Bucky bought them for the twins when they were born and they refused to sleep without them.

The twins were ecstatic to sleepover ‘aunt y/n and uncle Bucky’s place’ and babbled to each other the entire drive. You got there and saw Bucky’s truck so you figured he took the rest of the say off for the kids.

The rest of the day was spent running around the yard and showing the kids the inn and it reminded you so much of your childhood with Bucky. You wouldn’t mind your own kids playing here too you think to yourself.

After getting the kids to eat dinner and putting them to bed in the guest room you’re wiped and fall asleep with Bucky on the couch.

You wake up early the next day to little hands patting your shoulder. You manage to get up without waking up Bucky and bring the kids to the kitchen. Day 7 would be breakfast in bed you suppose.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

It was one week now until the wedding and you were stressed. The mothers decided to come in now and make your life a living hell by trying to undo everything the couple had done. Thor and Jane had made it perfectly clear to ignore their parents and you were doing your best to.

You told Bucky to meet you at the inn today since you couldn’t make it out to him, and when he arrived you had Vis make your lunch and the two of you picnic in the garden.

Day 9 was a big one because you were asking Bucky to be your date today. You lit candles around the house and had a big sign asking him to be your date. It mimicked how he asked you to prom all those years ago.

You got dressed up and waited impatiently for him to come home. When you heard his car you dimmed the lights in the house and held the sign for him to read. He came in and smiled at your setup.

“Doll, of course, I’m going to be your date,” he says laughing and pulls you close to him.

“You know you don’t need to do the rest of your wooing. We can just make it official now,” he says and you shake your head.

“James Buchanan you let me finish my last 5 days.”

“I just want to kiss you,” he whines and you laugh at his frustration.

“Soon Handy Boy I promise.”

Day 10 you go to the old drive-in theater with him. Wedding prep is just about done and you had the night off. You fill his truck with blankets and pillows after telling him the plan and having him grab snacks and drinks for you both.

The place is playing Edward Scissorhands and Beetlejuice in a Tim Burton back to back showing and it’s a good excuse to spend the night watching good movies and snuggled close to the man you love.

Day 11 and 12 you bake for him. The first of two nights cookies, the second muffins. He thanks you for both but asks if you’re trying to Hansel and Gretel him.

Day 13 was the day before the wedding and the entire family had come into town. The entire inn was rented out to the Foster-Odinson clan. It was all hands on deck and it was the fullest you’ve seen the inn yet. But despite the craziness, everything runs smoothly.

Midway through the day Wanda gets a call she was approved to adopt and was so excited she yelled it out. The entire place let out collective squeals (even people who had no clue who Wanda was) and the day just had a good tone to it.

For the last day before the wedding, and your last night of the ‘wooing’ you cook Bucky dinner. He’s surprised by the fact the house doesn’t burn and compliments your meal at least ten times. You tell him about Wanda and Vision.

“Do you want kids?” he asks and you nod.

“I want a bunch of kids. I want to raise them here too. With you,” you say and he chokes on his drink.

“God Doll, I want that too but don’t be that blunt about things. I’m getting older, don’t need a heart attack.” You laugh and he smiles.

· · ──────────·🌹· ───────── · ·

After what feels like a lifetime the day is finally here. You’re up and out of the house before Bucky even wakes. He’s sleeping in since the store is closed today and he doesn’t have to be at the inn until 11 am.

The bride and her bridesmaids are all drinking coffee and nibbling on light pastries when you get there. The makeup and hair team she hired should be here in around an hour. Jane has gel eye patches beneath her eyes and one of the bridesmaids still has their hair in a towel.

After checking that they’re all there and everything is running smoothly you check in on the kitchen staff. They all say things are on schedule and you nod and go to find Scott to ensure that the bar is fully stocked.

On your way to check with Scott, you find Peter carrying the suits up to the groomsmen and he wishes you a good morning. Scott, you find a few minutes later organizing the liquor. Everything seems to be running smoothly.

A few hours go by and it’s an hour until the wedding starts. You thank your lucky stars that everything runs smoothly as the guests start showing up. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Bucky in a suit. He looks fantastic and you practically drool.

“How’s my favorite wedding coordinator,” he asks and you smile.

“She’s fantastic. How’s my favorite handy boy,” you ask in return.

“He wants to know if he’s waited long enough for his kiss.” You laugh at him.

“He has. He should know that there’s a certain girl fully in love with him who would die for a chance to be his girlfriend again,” you say laying it all out.

Bucky smiles widely, “I love you too Y/N. It would be an honor to be yours again.”

Before you can reply to him he pulls you close and smashes his lips against yours. There’s so much want and need in the kiss and you can almost feel the years lost in it. He doesn’t hold back at all and reaches one arm around you to pull you as close as possible. The other holds your hand and he keeps his lips moving in time with yours.

And you know that it’s everything you need. He’s everything you ever need.

#wxntersoldiers6kauchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #catws

239 notes · View notes

luverofralts · 3 years

Text

Post Arkhelios

Abe is dying having to live with his deteriorating family. It seems like forever since he's been happy...it feels like forever since he’s seen Roman. With his parents’ marriage falling apart, he’s been thinking a lot lately about his own love life. Arkhelios is a small place and there weren’t a lot of gay or bi teens to date. There was Jorah, but he was way too young for Abe, and for whatever reason, Abe had always felt the Durant kids were like distant family to him. It would be creepy to try think romantically about them. It also didn’t help matters that if things kept going like they were, Jorah might soon be his step-brother.

Now that the Durants are unfortunately a fixture in his life, Ulyssa some times texts him about life at boarding school in exchange for dirt on her parents. She especially thought he’d be interested in knowing that Roman was having a huge falling out with his family, which was keeping him from coming home to stay with them. Abe couldn't blame him for that, Ulyssa was doing the same thing, and god knows Abe would have left by now if he had somewhere to go. College is still in the distant horizon, and Salem hasn't been impressed with the results of Roman and Ulyssa's recruitment drive, so appealing to Salem likely won't get him out of Arkhelios either. Still, it couldn't hurt if he were to go to the Bellamys and ask if they had a way to reach Roman. Salem had stopped paying for Roman's phone, and the school itself was so old that payphones were too much of a modern inconvenience for the school to bother installing.

Roman's room was still perfectly unchanged since the last time Abe had been there. There were a lot of good memories in this room. Memories of stolen kisses, of pulling off Roman's shirt only to accidentally put it back on inside out later, of his heart racing when Salem called them down to dinner while they were still tangled up in Roman's sheets....why had things gotten so bad between them? Was Abe just idealizing the past, or had he really given up something special when he let Roman leave?

Visiting Roman's empty room had only made things worse for Abe. Now he would have to go home to his miserable family alone. Or so he thought until he ran into Wanda downstairs. Wanda had always been kind to him, and Roman actually seemed to like her as an aunt. In fact, there was a secret Roman had told Abe about her that Abe was desperately hoping was true. Witches and magic were real occurrences in places outside of Arkhelios; Roman was even learning a bit of it at school where witches were abundant and placed in positions of power.

“W-Wanda,” he stammered, “I don't want to be rude or anything, and I'm not going to out you to anyone...I was just wondering if you could maybe do me a favour?”

It barely took anytime at all for the hall to light up with an unnatural glow, leaving only a silhouette of a human shape. Once his eyes had adjusted, Abe could make out the undeniable features of Roman's shocked face.

“Abe? Wanda?” he asked incredulously. “You teleported me here?”

Wanda laughed.

“From what I hear, you certainly couldn’t pull that off yourself.” Her tone was playful, but Roman’s expression fell.

“No, I guess not. Just another thing I’m failing.”

Abe didn’t let him say another word. Roman was in his arms again. Something good had finally happened to him. Wanda left the two alone with a smile, and a promise to help Roman get himself back to his dorm when he needed to.

“I’m so sorry,” Roman sobbed against Abe’s shoulder. “I’ve been such an ass.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Abe cried. “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Everything here is just terrible without you.”

“Everything at school is terrible. I’m barely passing, my parents have forgotten me, I was so cocky when I left that even Ulyssa won’t talk to me now. I thought I was going to be important, but it turned out that I was really nothing at all.”

Abe smiled.

“You’re something to me.”

Morty was suddenly interrupted from his cat nap by two very noisy teens. Omar’s bed had been abandoned when he moved out, and that room happened to have a lock installed on the door. Morty wasn’t sure what those two were doing, so he watched impassively for a moment before readjusting himself against a pillow and drifted back to sleep.

Abe and Roman held each other in Omar’s old bed until Morty’s constant staring unnerved them into moving to Roman’s catless room. The single bed was smaller, but it’s not like they hadn’t used it several times before. Eventually though, the two had to face reality and talk things out.

“I want to come home,” Roman declared. “Ulyssa is really happy over there, and maybe she has a shot of bringing people to Arkhelios, but even Grandpa has given up on me. I’m not good at any of my classes, and I kind of burned a lot of bridges when I first arrived.”

“It can’t be that bad, you burned a lot of bridges here too, and you were doing just fine.”

Roman laughed.

“Grandpa tried to marry me off to a straight prince when I wasn’t useful anymore. I can’t even be dumped off on someone properly.”

“You would make an awful consort,” Abe said. “But maybe you don’t belong with a prince. Maybe you could belong with me? Seriously this time, no cheating or running off to marry straight princes.”

Roman looked surprised by the offer.

“Just so you know, I’ve slept with Ulyssa and made out with Jorah. If we’re going to do this, I guess you should know that. ” Roman shook his head. “I move to a different country and still only hook up with people from Arkhelios.”

Abe nodded. He’d assumed that much.

“Just so you know, sometimes I hear voices in my walls, and I think my house is haunted.”

“Ookay.” Roman was intially baffled by the admission, but he’d seen a lot since leaving Arkhelios, and the world in general was turning out to be very different than he’d thought it was. “I guess no hooking up at your house then.”

“You know my Mom would kill you if she ever caught us,” Abe laughed. “The only thing my parents can agree on these days is that they really don’t like you.”

Malika pretended to be surprised when she walked into the living room and caught her grandson snuggling with that Chun boy. Very little happened in her house that she was not aware of. It was one of the benefits of being a tarot card reader. She would keep this to herself though; Salem was already too hard on their grandson. He was far too stubborn to realize that pushing Roman too hard would just push him into the arms of Abe and the Helios family. Subtlety was what was needed here.

“Roman! You’re home! What a surprise! I hope everything is okay at school.”

The boys all but jumped away from each other at the sound of her voice, and she sighed. Who did they think they were fooling exactly?

“No, everything’s fine,” Roman stammered. “I was just practicing my homework for magic class by teleporting here and Abe was just walking by, so I invited him in to catch up.”

Abe was beet red, and Malika saw the beginnings of a small hickey on Roman’s neck when he turned his head to look guiltily at Abe.

He must have inherited Omar’s stupidity. Even Kamalani could lie more convincingly than this.

“How wonderful that you’re progressing so well in your studies. Abe, would you like to stay for dinner then?”

Abe bolted up and looked towards the door.

“No, thank you,” he replied quickly. “I think my mom is working late, so I should help my dad make dinner.”

“Of course. “

So the Chuns don’t know about this little romance either. Interesting.

“Thanks for the visit, Roman. I hope to see you again soon!”

Abe walked as quickly as he could towards the front door. When she heard the door close, Malika hugged Roman and then beckoned him to take a seat next to her on the couch.

“Have I ever told you that I once almost dated Abraham Helios?” she asked.

Roman looked appalled.

“Abraham? Gross, what could you possibly see in him?”

Malika pulled Roman closer to her in a motherly embrace.

“He was very attractive as a young man,” she replied. “He had so many ideas and such great potential. When I was your age, I thought for sure that we would get married and shape Arkhelios together. But then he betrayed me like young people sometimes do, and gave himself to nearly any girl he met. When I met your grandfather, I was a little older and wiser, and I knew that we could build a life together instead of following teenage hormones.”

Roman froze in place.

“Abe and I are just friends, “ he lied. Why was everyone in his life so against him dating Abe? He was a Helios through his mother, but that should hardly matter. Still, better not to make his grandparents even more disappointed in him at the moment. Maybe if he and Abe could make it until they were in college, they could finally tell their families to leave them out of their grudges.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Malika said warmly. “The people we love as teenagers so rarely stay in our lives as adults. Friendship is what usually endures over the years. When you’re an adult, I’m certain that this will make sense to you.” She winked and pulled Roman into an even tighter hug. “Now go get Wanda to send you back before your grandfather comes home.”

#ts2 #sims 2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #Roman Bellamy #Abe chun #sims 2 pictures #ts2 pictures

8 notes · View notes

terramythos · 4 years

Text

uhhhh liveblog reactions of the newest october daye book, #14, a killing frost. don’t look @ me. don’t @ me.

monumental spoilers for this book & the entire series

-aw tybalt is taking toby's last name

-SUS AF looks at Patrick and Dianda. 👀 I knew there was a reason we established that Patrick very close to Simon before he went crazy and evil. I feel like that was in Once Broken Faith (#10)?

-LMAO I straight up forgot Rayseline exists.

-great to see sylvester's still a dick.

-still endlessly funny to me that Sylvester's Literal Evil Twin Simon replaced him as Toby's father figure and now sylvester's just like, some asshole who randomly shows up sometimes

-great to see Luna's still a bitch.

-great family

-well it's interesting from a purely academic perspective to see what happens to May when she's literally missing organs. Usually it's Toby!

-hi Simon

-Simon: *is evil*

Toby: you know what? This dude is way more trustworthy than Sylvester!

(She's... not wrong)

-Simon: *is evil*

Toby: come oooon simon you're a good guy cmoooon this is getting boring

-oh cool we're going on a road trip with evil!Simon, that cant possibly go wrong

-*shit goes super wrong like right away* ok

-toby calling may her sister constantly in this book awww

-walther shows up :D I love him

-yaaay the Luidaeg finally my absolute fave absolute queen

-toby: so I went on this big quest on my own and now Quentin is kidnapped and May got elf-shot. It seemed like a good idea at the time so me and/or simon wouldnt get caught in some weird magic contract with you

The Luidaeg: wow, you're a fucking idiot

Toby's narration: this hurt on a personal level because she can't lie so i knew she like REALLY meant it

-ok so theres this weird bit where we learn Stacy is ultra protective of her kids dating. There is some discussion about how that is super weird and doesn't make any sense to toby. Then some more discussion about how a lot of Stacy's past doesn't add up. Specifically, stacy's grandparents were purebloods (who hated her), which actually makes zero sense biologically considering how little fae blood Stacy has. Also worth considering, though not mentioned, TWO of stacy's children are powerful seers which makes no sense from what we know about thin blood in canon.

I think this *might* connect to my ongoing suspicions of Marcia as a character, who is a thinblooded changeling who consistently keeps showing up. Including in this book when she really didn't need to. At this point she has met multiple Firstborn and they initially seem alarmed/disturbed when they see her for no apparent reason. 14 books since her intro and we know nothing about her past or even her heritage, which is unheard of in this series. When that kind of info is obscured its always because there's a big twist associated with it. There is something going on there.

-speaking of. Um. Simon and Sylvester's bio mom was a human? Excuse me? What? Hello?

-sylvester refused to claim her as their legal mother so simon (angry about it) had to reject her too. A whole new layer to the "fuck Sylvester" cake and brings some interesting perspective to him stepping in as a paternal figure for toby, a homeless changeling? What the fuck, Sylvester?

-this is also one reason why not evil!Simon isn't a total asshole to Toby.

-anyway. Toby being turned into an otter and biting The Luidaeg was fucking funny

-wow, evening REALLY sucks.

-dang the tree thing is pretty creepy :( big fuckin yikes

-OK so toby's sacrificing her way home to keep Simon from doing more damage? I guess is the plan? Fuck?

-toby seems to know names of some Roane she's never met and I'm not sure if that's a mistake or not

-oh Quentin is big mad at Simon. Even if this all goes well a lot of people are gonna hate him. Also, he hurt Dean which is gonna piss Patrick and Dianda off

-though it was basically mind control so. SHRUG????

-god, fuck evening

-WAIT. Something was just implied that. wait... if that's where this is going I'm MAD.

- Toby: *takes on the curse*

Simon: *is suddenly not evil*

Simon: toby what the fuck no why did you do that :(((

-i like Simon 😬

-"apparently, the thought of Patrick being angry with him was even more distressing than I'd expected it to be. Interesting." UM. UMMMM. 👀👀👀👀👀

-seeing Toby briefly turn into her book 1 version was funny. Immediately pointing at tybalt, the literal love of her life, and screaming "you FUCKER". Ah, memories.

-ok. Ok yeah that's where this was going. Fuck me. Fuck.

-i am SO MAD. a fucking THROWAWAY LINE ...

-ok so officer Thornton is Oberon. That's cool. Ok.

I immediately went and skimmed the two books he was in and caught two instances of foreshadowing.

In Ashes of Honor (#6) when toby meets him she describes him as familiar in a generic way. Like, she recognizes his voice and face immediately but can't place it.. This is never brought up again. In the final chapter of this book he is described the same way, as generic yet strangely familiar. So. A closer reading might be in order to see how other fae behave around him. It's possible Toby has a stronger reaction since he's her grandfather (and is the perspective character.)

And yeah, the fucking THROWAWAY "lady, let alone" line from The Brightest Fell (#11). At the time that just seemed awkward, or I guess a gratuitous Tam Lin reference. Fuck me. Also explains how he didnt implode or die from being trapped in Annwn.

-and it makes sense there isnt much more than that because it seems "officer thornton" doesnt know he's oberon. Like it's basically the situation Simon was in??? There's a throwaway "why in the world was Oberon disguised as a human and couldn't remember anything?" line but it isn't explored, so I assume its addressed in a future book.

-(oh my god Riordan kept him as like. Some sick pet. For a YEAR. she didn't know he was the literal King of Faerie. Fucking hell.)

-his fucking name. Thornton. THORNton. Perfectly human character here hahahaha fuck off.

-and this makes the whole fucking series setup of "toby will be the one to find oberon" way more funny because. Man, mission fucking accomplished. 8 books ago.

-thematically makes sense that he returns in The Brightest Fell, too. Fuck me. fuck me! Bitter irony that Simon is given the impossible task/curse to find Oberon in that book and he was literally like, zonked out two rooms away

-list of "minor/background" characters in this series who later reveal themselves to be Huge Lore Gamechangers: Evening, The Luidaeg, May, August, Janet, and now FUCKING Oberon.

-an entire chapter of Simon apologizing to everyone

- holy fuck? Canon ot3???? Simon/Patrick/Dianda??? OT3? HELLO?????

-the October daye series has a fucking canon ot3 and they're getting married. Alright. Ok. Thanks seanan for my life

-"simon, amandine is just the worst and doesn't deserve you. Come marry me and my wife" is not where I was expecting this to go but like okay I am on board

-so the divorce happens and toby unsurprisingly picks Simon as her legal parent. But August does too. Amandine is pissed... I'm sure that'll be a whole Thing.

-THIS BOOK LITERALLY ENDS WITH SIMON AND PATRICK AND DIANDA GETTING MARRIED I'M

-"I now declare you husbands and wife" asdfhdkskxj

-well that book was a fucking ride. Holy christ. Toby accidentally found Oberon. That was sort of the big overarching thing. Not sure where the story goes from here. Theres some loose ends I already discussed and Evening is still a threat but yeah!

-ok we still have the novella "Shine In Pearl" which seems to be about Simon and Patrick and Dianda pre-series

-this is mostly VERY angsty (but well written) but 👀 at this novella mentioning Dawn as a character who exists outside of like, an offhand mention in the first book. Also referring to Riordan like she's not a minor background character

-calling tybalt an asshole too lol

-christ. Poor simon. Even more context of literally everyone screwing him over. :(( I'm glad it's better now.

6 notes · View notes

felipeandletizia · 4 years

Text

Pandemic days in La Zarzuela

Jesus Rodriguez - May 23, 2020 (Source)

This is the chronicle of how the crisis of covid-19 has been lived in the Headquarters of the State, of the challenge of being King in exceptional times. And also two and a half months of home confinement for a married couple with two daughters.

This April has been one of the rainiest in Madrid. Nature is in all its splendor. The path that leads from the first security control of La Zarzuela to the palace appears bordered by splendid vegetation and by deer that pass slowly. Here apparently nothing ever changes. But at the entrance of the Headquarters of the State it is already detected that it is not the same. The circumspect civil guards are covered with masks and black latex gloves. The identification is given to the agent with the arm to the maximum of its extension to maintain social distance. The gray hybrid car that transports you from that surveillance point to the heart of the royal complex, hidden in the immense mount of El Pardo, owned by National Heritage, incorporates methacrylate partition walls. The quiet, uniformed driver who doesn't open his mouth at the slightest attempt at a chat, wears his mask tight, almost to the point of cutting his breath.

We circulate slowly and alone in an environment that produces drowsiness. Four kilometers later, almost at the end of the route, you can see the tiles of the King and Queen's house hanging on a promontory one kilometer from the palace between the tops of the trees. It is the most invisible property within the invisibility that prevails in this place. The most hermetic place in La Zarzuela. It is never used for official acts. Just for some timid recording of their daily life. It is intended to be a home in which a family of four lives. Even more so in times of pandemic. They assure in this place that its inhabitants "are very respectful of the recommendations of the authorities, and in this case that means that grandparents, cousins and other family members stay each in their own homes."

A family that has been confined since March 13 with minimal and well-considered official departures (only ten, of which five have been carried out by the King alone until May 20 and one by the Queen alone, to the Red Cross). That gets up at 7.30 and eats after two in the afternoon. And where each of its members faces in this strange time the mission entrusted to them, whether by the Constitution, by life or by their age: meeting with the Prime Minister (today is Tuesday, meeting day, and they will meet through videoconference, as usual during the entire crisis); support, by the Queen through videoconference with a brain damage foundation or, in the case of their teenage daughters, carry out their education with the school closed since March 11, but connecting with it from the first hours of the morning. Without any extra school help, but with their parents trying to help them out on English homework, a text commentary, or a story presentation. And a mother who ensures that they are not hooked to the tablet all day and read books and even immerse themselves in the kitchen. Something that the youngest daughter, Sofía, loves.

It is a family that talks a lot, goes to bed early and, if there are no setbacks, ends the day with a movie. Every night one of its members chooses the title. It is a battle between movie fans: a daughter bets on the sagas of Marvel and Star Wars; another, for dramas and science fiction; the father, for the action and the thrillers. And the mother plays the role of intellectual trying to suggest more cultural titles. It is not always imposed.

Someone who knows them recounts their state of mind during this time of pandemic and isolation: “Like all families in this country, in these two long months they have been (and are) closer together than ever. Father, mother and daughters. Alone. With the same feeling that is being experienced in all the houses of this country: of greater union, of being a team, of moving forward. And the same uneasiness as the rest, given the circumstances that were lived during these 10 weeks."

Especially sad moments have passed, such as when the dramatic situation of the elderly in some residences came to light: “It left them with deep despondency and sadness. That bitter sensation and that lump in their throats lasted a long time.” Those were the days, at the beginning of April, when more than 900 deaths were counted each day. And many hospital directors from all over Spain explained to them day and night by videoconference, on the field, in real time, that they were having a hard time, that they had a thousand daily incomes; they were overwhelmed. And yet, they say in La Zarzuela, these people talked to them with integrity and the best of their spirits. And they asked them to fight for "primary care" in the future.

During this time, the King and Queen have spoken with more than 50 hospitals in all the autonomous communities. Long talks that have provided them with a very precise map of the evolution of the pandemic by time and territory. And without filters. The King, the Queen, their interlocutors and a notebook. None of those calls have been recorded.

Before reaching our destination, we cross a stone bridge over the almost overflowed by the Trofa stream. Here is another checkpoint. This time, in charge of the Royal Guard. There are far fewer guards than at other times. Much of its 1,500 troops no longer honor each ceremonial step of the King; they are on the street, disinfecting residences and fighting coronavirus in Operation Balmis as decided by Felipe VI on March 23 during an interview with Defense Minister Margarita Robles. And a few days later he did the same with the members of the Security Service of the Headquarters of the State, composed according to various sources (because the King's House does not provide data) of more than 300 escorts, police and civil guards.

When the King sent his guard and bodyguards to work against the virus, he tried to send a message of solidarity within the framework of the policy of gestures with which the Spanish Monarchy communicates, an institution that rarely issues statements and hardly ever claims or denies. The Jemad, General of the Air Miguel Ángel Villarroya, declared in a martial tone on March 23 that with that act "the King proved to be the first soldier in Spain." He was wrong. What Felipe VI was trying to demonstrate with that decision, as with all of these months of crisis (people he has seen, words he has uttered, world political and economic leaders with whom he has interviewed, hospitals he has called, consultations that he has made to scientists, requests that he has communicated to businessmen), is that he is next to the people. His great concern is the "day after"; the problems that this pandemic is going to cause among the most disadvantaged citizens when it all ends.

A source from his environment explains: "He has analyzed a thousand and one times how it could be valued what so many entities are doing in the face of the impoverishment of thousands of people who were already very vulnerable and will see their ability to get ahead even more hindered. And see what he could do as Head of State in the face of the tragedy of those self-employed who did not receive their full salary in March, nor have they received in April and are waiting for May. And all those who await their ERTE.” As someone who knows the King well says: “From the moment he opens his eyes until he closes them, he doesn't stop thinking and scheming how, with the tools he has, he can make things go better for the Spanish. And it does not do so for personal or political interest. But out of a sense of duty. It is his job. It is his life ”.

The final destination of the tour of this immense farm where La Zarzuela is located ends in the Magnolias building, a 2,600-square-meter brick construction that was designed in 1987. Here is the structure of direct support for the head of state, connected to the palace by a tunnel and a staircase. The King's office is three minutes away. Magnolias is like the Semillas at La Moncloa, which houses the President's Cabinet, its nervous system. In La Zarzuela there are a hundred people, many career officials, and with an abundance of military and civil guards, who manage their agenda, write their speeches, prepare their visits, answer their mail, attend to the media, inform, advise and help make the most serious decisions. And, above all, they work on the relationship between La Zarzuela and La Moncloa. Two constitutional legitimacies forced to understand each other. They are the most hermetic officials of the Spanish Administration. They measure their words to the millimeter. At the head of this team is the harsh 64-year-old State lawyer Jaime Alfonsín, who has been working with Don Felipe since the now King was in his twenties. The average age of that team is 61 years old. Most have done their entire careers here.

The Magnolias building is quieter than ever. At the entrance, two gatekeepers in white jackets and military shoes as mirrors solicitously open the doors. Beyond, a cold semi-darkness of empty rooms, a pretentious decoration of Madrid's upper class and a sepulchral silence. No voices or footsteps are heard. Less than a third of the King's team is in place. The rest have been teleworking since March 13. La Zarzuela is in the box.

However, the head of the House, the secretary general and the six most involved directors (among them, Protocol, Coordination and Communication) are here. They arrive at eight in the morning. At nine they have the first meeting. And with the digital press summary prepared by the House already read. This daily meeting is a novelty, before it was only done on Fridays.

Their boardroom is quirky: a huge room with chandeliers and marble flooring with enough space to stay within the statutory social distance. They sit in a circle on uncomfortable Empire-style chairs. The agenda of the previous day is analyzed, the current one is reviewed and the following one is prepared. They eat from the machine. Not everyone sees the King daily. Alfonsín is the only one who dispatches with him every morning. He's the link with the director of the President's Cabinet and the secretary general of the Presidency. It is in La Moncloa where all the words of the King and Queen are given the go-ahead or "edited", however harmless they may seem, because "it cannot be forgotten that this is the Head of State." In the case of Felipe's message during the referendum crisis in Catalonia on October 3, 2017 nobody touched a comma in the La Moncloa from the Rajoy era.

On March 13, at 15:15, President Pedro Sánchez addressed an audience of 18 million spectators with these words: “Today, I have just communicated to the Head of State the celebration, tomorrow, of a Council of Extraordinary ministers to decree the state of alarm throughout our country”. There were 120 dead.

That afternoon the alarms went off in La Zarzuela. The situation was complex. There had been no national crisis of this magnitude since the Civil War. There was no road map. How should a Head of State who reigns but does not govern face a health, economic and social crisis of such magnitude? What should be his agenda? Should he go out? Should he address the Spaniards? Should he preside over the Councils of Ministers? Should he be involved in any activity? Does he have to intrude? Who does he have to talk to and who does he not? Does he need to appear with his family? Does his consort have to show up making cookies with their daughters? How would each action he takes be politically and socially interpreted? How does he get no one to complain? How to achieve a territorial, sectoral, political, cultural and opportunity balance in all of his actions, initiatives and audiences?

On March 13, the King's House (and the King himself) lacked an instruction manual. And it was not the best time for the Spanish Monarchy either. For years it had been hanging over Felipe VI and the institution the finances of his father, the King Emeritus, Juan Carlos de Borbón, 82 years old. For a long time, the relationship between father and son has not been the best possible. The last time they saw each other in public was during the funeral of the Infanta Pilar, on January 28, in El Escorial. They were in mourning. His greeting was protocol. And the old King looked out of the corner of his eye, his head down, lost, as his son, the Head of the State, walked away from him coldly.

The week before the declaration of the state of alarm, just when the dripping of infected people and deaths began and the situation began to be out of control for the Government, the King and Queen did not stop. Especially, the Queen. Reviewing the images of those days knowing what we know today about the COVID-19 causes amazement. Not an act was removed from their schedule. Not even a trip to Paris on March 11 that the French president, Emmanuel Macron (the couple's personal friend), did not want to suspend: at the gates of the Elysée, they greeted each other without handshakes or kisses. All the King and Queen's appearances that week were massive. An act with the ambassadors of the Marca España in the old palace of El Pardo; a women's soccer final riddled with screams and sweat in a packed sports hall in Salamanca (the same day as the questioned feminist 8-M demonstration); a meeting overflowing with attendees with the Spanish Federation of Rare Diseases ... And all trying to photograph, touch and hug them. The usual landscape.

But it was March 6 that gave the most. And lit the wick of the following events in La Zarzuela. Doña Letizia met that morning in the Uned classrooms, in the heart of the Lavapiés neighborhood, in Madrid, with the professionals of the Association for the Prevention, Reintegration and Attention to Prostituted Women (Apramp), an NGO which she had already called to La Zarzuela in June 2018 and with whom she maintains close contact.

That morning riddled with photographers had an added morbid: its "minister of the day" was Irene Montero, holder since January of the Ministry of Equality and leader of Podemos, a party very critical of the Monarchy. Would there be blood? Would there be a photo? The working meeting was held behind closed doors with Montero side by side with the Queen. It was long. Everything flowed. When they left, according to someone who was there, “they said goodbye with the usual kiss that the Queen gives in cases similar to the ministers, secretaries of state or general directors who attend. It had begun to be suggested in official media that perhaps it would be good to avoid kisses and handshakes (that day there were already five deceased), but neither of them dared to stop doing it, because it was going to be interpreted as an unpleasant gesture by one to the other and vice versa. Something that did not happen and has never happened between the King and Queen and the ministers, no matter the sector or the party they are. Everything always happens within the constitutional correction. It is their job. And then behind the cameras there may be more or less cordiality, but always absolute correction, starting with Podemos,” they assure.

Six days later, on Thursday, March 12, the bomb exploded. La Moncloa announced early in the morning that Minister Irene Montero had tested positive for the coronavirus. And the most difficult days of Felipe VI's reign began. In just six years, he has had to deal with four general elections (two of them repeated), eight rounds of consultations with political leaders, the motion of censure against Mariano Rajoy, a weak coalition government with one of its partners resistant to the Monarchy and the endless secessionist process in Catalonia. Without forgetting the trial and prison of his brother-in-law Iñaki Urdangarinand the continuous information on his father's activities, with private accounts in tax havens and income of dubious origin. These two more personal matters, Felipe de Borbón would be forced to face them as Head of State and not as a member of a family.

In January 2015, six months after his proclamation, he had already drafted a rigid regulation on the gifts that members of the royal family could receive, which stated in its article 6: “They will not accept loans without interest or with interest lower than the normal market, or gifts of money. In the latter case, it will be returned or donated to a non-profit entity that pursues purposes of general interest." From that moment the estrangement would come with his sister Cristina (to whom he revoked the title of Duchess of Palma in June 2015) and from his own father.

It has not been an easy reign for Felipe de Borbón. And nobody anticipates that things will improve. Journalists investigating the finances of the King Emeritus in Spain, Switzerland and the United Kingdom confirm that things will continue to come to light. They also have it very clear in that home in La Zarzuela. And that any action by Felipe VI as Head of State will be overshadowed by that judicial situation.

On the same morning that Montero was positive, the military doctor from La Zarzuela performed the test for the new coronavirus on the King and Queen. They did not have the results until early on March 13. Neither of them tested positive. However, it was decided that the Queen would keep two weeks of quarantine at her home, not isolated, but without leaving home or interacting with anyone from outside for two weeks, until the 26th, in case it was a false negative. She fulfilled it to the letter. During that time, she did not even go down to her official office in La Zarzuela, where she arrives every morning at nine. It is in an adjoining room, bright, white and minimalist, where she holds the videoconferences. By mid-May, she had already completed more than 60 within what she calls her specialization: culture, society, dependency, sexist violence, cancer, rare diseases, food and childhood. They last around an hour. "There is no protocol required in them other than politeness."

But between March 12 and 16 there was not a single event on the King and Queen's schedule. The King also did not leave the limits of the El Pardo mountain until his surprise visit, with no press called, to the field hospital of Ifema on May 26th. However, on the 13th he had already put himself in “virus mode”, started to make calls and was totally immersed in the crisis, a state of mind from which he has not escaped. “He keeps in constant contact with all kinds of people linked to the management of the pandemic, wherever they are. Today, at home, the virus is talked about at all hours. They are the only conversations their daughters listen to.”

On March 14 Spain closed. And also appeared published in the British press, in The Telegraph, the exclusive that Felipe VI was beneficiary of one of the foundations created in tax havens by his father with a patrimony of 65 million euros, apparently from Saudi Arabia. His team at La Zarzuela knew that information was about to come out. This was confirmed by journalists from The Telegraph and EL PAÍS (who had been months behind the subject) by email; they wanted to know the King's answer. But La Zarzuela did not answer. Why? "Because it was a judicial matter that we could not enter. And because there was no documentary evidence; not a bank paper, income or account to confirm it. They preferred to wait”. At La Zarzuela they always take their time. They say that its rhythm is more like that of the Vatican than that of the White House. Even if it is in theoretically banal matters. For example, the decision that the Princess of Asturias and her sister, the Infanta Sofia, briefly read passages from Don Quixote on camera on April 23 to commemorate Book Day took five weeks.

That Saturday of breaking news, March 14, La Zarzuela's team had to change plans on the fly and write an extensive and harsh statement that same afternoon of four pages that would be released to the public on the afternoon of Sunday 15 (the second day of confinement and when 288 deceased were already counted), in which Felipe VI disassociated himself from the activities of his father (who he claimed to be unaware of), resigned to his economic inheritance (also in the name of his daughter), placed the King Emeritus outside the administrative and legal umbrella of the Royal House and withdrew the official allocation of 194,232 euros per year. The statement concluded with this statement by don Juan Carlos: "That of the two foundations previously mentioned at no time did he provide information to HM the King." The elaborate formal and legal drafting of the text indicated that it had been prepared in sufficient time. For about a year, La Zarzuela had been aware of what was coming through the mouth of the British lawyers of Corinna Larsen, the old friend of Don Juan Carlos.

Why was this statement issued coinciding with the start of the confinement and on a Sunday? "As soon as we had documentary evidence of the accusations of the British newspaper, we could not leave for a second the slightest doubt that Felipe VI was the beneficiary of these accounts; it was necessary to act without delay; there could be no shadow on his conduct; that news could not be for a second on the internet without a response from the King”, explain his collaborators. "Why did we get it out that day and not a year earlier? Because until that weekend we did not have the documentary certainty of those accusations, a year before we lacked that documentary confirmation”.

That Saturday the King made the decision to publicly disassociate himself from any matter that related him to his father and that could be questioned, as he had already done privately a year earlier, on March 12, 2019, before a Madrid notary, exposing his intention to renounce the inheritance of Juan Carlos de Borbón at the time he passed away (now legally he cannot). Those dubious financial actions do not enter the head of Felipe VI. They go against his vision of the world and the “Monarchy renewed for a new time” that he has tried to build since his proclamation on June 2014.

On Wednesday, March 18, there were 598 deaths. At five in the afternoon a meeting of the King with the President began in the audience room of La Zarzuela; the ministers of Health, Defense, Interior and Transport and their deputies, the Coronavirus Technical Management Committee. It was intense. It lasted until after 7:30 p.m. The King concluded it with just enough time to run down to the Magnolias room and, without changing his tie, record a message to the nation, with no time to repeat, that would be broadcast at nine at night. The Queen and her daughters did not accompany him on this occasion. They were confined.

It was not the King's best speech. Not even gestually. It was witnessed by 14.6 million people. He and his team thought about referring in the text to the affairs of his father, Don Juan Carlos. They decided not to. There was not the slightest mention, to the perplexity of many citizens. "There was no attempt to hide anything," responds a member of the Casa del Rey, "but there was no point in talking about the King Emeritus in the context of a terrible health emergency, especially when he had done so immediately, extensively and firmly in the statement three days before. There was not anymore to say. And even more so when it is a judicial matter. On March 18, the Head of State talked to the country to give his encouragement against the pandemic and to tell the Spaniards that he was by their side. Not to talk about his father's problems."

The total activation of La Zarzuela in times of crisis did not arrive until March 26. That day the King went to Ifema, the Queen began her video conferences and a complex agenda of contacts and initiatives was launched. Dozens of calls and videoconferences with all sectors. Absolutely everyone. And meetings with 16 ministers (although it took more than a month to receive the first of Podemos, Manuel Castells, in La Zarzuela). Always with the idea of having their own and direct information about what was happening in Spain and sharpen the shot. The utility of those actions of the King is difficult to specify. You never know if they are of any use. Because it is, as a person in his environment explains, “a job that involves being a link, generating trust, mediating, cooperating and weaving complicities to solve the problems of 48 million people. And to do it with a rectitude and exemplary that for this King is not negotiable”.

According to another person in his environment, "this work has a lot of soft power”. A parallel diplomacy that consists of having quick and direct access to the most powerful on the planet, Amancio Ortega, Jack Ma (the Chinese millionaire owner of Alibaba Group), the president of Huawei or Microsoft. And also to all the monarchs in the world (they have spoken with the majority, from the Queen of England to the Emperor of Japan or the sovereign of Morocco). Or to chat with Donald and Melania Trump in a long and intense conversation on April 1 in which the President of the United States did not stop questioning the King and Queen about the confinement and closure of economic activity; between maintaining business and the need to avoid spreading the virus. It was his concern. And, by the way, it unlocked the sale to Spain of a hundred respirators, at a time when there were already 4,500 deaths from covid-19 in the United States and they could be needed there.

Not everything is based on planetary relationships with ministers and statesmen. One of the great concerns of the King and Queen is, at this time with the curve of contagions and deaths in free fall, "the sustainability of the groups that work with the most disadvantaged and help them to have something of quality in their lives, for example, in matters of gender violence. If the subsidies and aid and the talks with the autonomous communities of the organizations of the third sector are interrupted, what will become of them? ”They ask themselves in the surroundings of the Queen. That is their job. Be helpful. Although they may not always have it easy.

#King Felipe #Queen Letizia #Princess Leonor #Infanta Sofia #King Felipe of Spain #Queen Letizia of Spain #Princess Leonor of Asturias #Infanta Sofia of Spain #King Felipe VI #Princess of Asturias #King Felipe VI of Spain #COVID-19 #News #May 2020

14 notes · View notes

handsofdarkness · 4 years

Text

Within Temptation’s Sharon Den Adel: “Sometimes I Lose It, Emotionally”

Within Temptation vocalist Sharon Den Adel looks back at her life in music, reflections on motherhood and feeling “naked” onstage…

You’ve come a long way since you first picked up a microphone. What would your teenage self think of how things turned out? “It would be mind-blowing for her. I was 14 when I first started singing with a band while at school. That seems so far away now. Growing up in the Netherlands we didn’t have too many examples to follow. There were bands like Shocking Blue and Golden Earring, but they never seemed to reach too far outside the country. Being a full-time singer certainly wasn’t considered to be a future job.”

How did your parents react when you told them that’s what you wanted to do? “They said I could go to music school but they really wanted me to learn flute, piano, and how to read music. That didn’t sound very cool to me and I didn’t want to do it. I told them I wanted to skip all of that and just start singing, because I believed I was good at that. They wanted to support me, but in their own way. I never did learn to play the flute. They soon realised I was a good singer, but they didn’t think you could earn a living from music without being able to read notes. I still can’t!”

Each Within Temptation album has sounded notably different to its predecessor. Was it a struggle to find an identity? “It is something we were actively and consciously doing, or searching for. We have always wanted to push the borders of what we felt were limiting us within the scene. It’s a good challenge and it keeps things interesting. We like to reinvent ourselves on every album. If we had to stay the same as we were when we started, I doubt we’d have kept the band together so long.”

In 2011 Robert quit being part of the touring band. How difficult was that for you both? “We didn’t like it, but it was the best thing for both of us. We had actually come through a break-up before that. We broke up as a couple for a little while in 2008. When we got back together we decided the band didn’t work too well when we’re both touring together. We’re hard-headed people and sometimes it’s too much to be working together all the time. Now it works best with us writing in separate rooms. We send emails to each other rather than talk. It can be a fragile thing, but if you’ve worked with your partner you know it can be horrible. We can get into a fight within five minutes. Within the world of Within Temptation we collaborate with different people, and that works well.”

You don’t ever write music together? “No, never. I send ideas to him, and he either works on those, or he sends something to me and I work on that. We don’t sit together in one room. We tried it that way for a long time and it wasn’t working. On our first two albums he would write the music and I’d come in and work on the vocals. Since then I’ve got way more involved in the actual music. We can’t write together, but we’ve learned from our mistakes and have found a way that works.”

As a mum of three, how do you balance career and family life? “I found it hard at first. I had to change the balance of my personal life and the band. In the past I would go on tour for six weeks or more at a time, and I’d be away from home a lot. Now we manage it so that we tour for two weeks and then have a break, and then we go out again. It’s generally two weeks on the road and then two weeks at home. It’s more expensive that way, but it keeps the band alive. Everyone has family commitments.”

Within Temptation songs are always invested with considerable emotion. Which songs are most meaningful to you? “The last album was hugely important for me, coming after the loss of my father. I was still in an emotional state when I was writing Resist with the guys. Holy Ground is particularly meaningful to me, as is Supernova. The Cross [from 2007’s The Heart Of Everything] is another significant one, but there are so many. It’s not just because they deal with subjects personal to me, but sometimes songs relate to people around me. I may be a bystander, but you get sucked into people’s lives and their challenges because you care about them. I take parts of my own emotions along with things that have affected other people, and then integrate those into a song. Because of that we get through a range of subjects on our albums.”

Are there any you find tough to perform for personal reasons? “Say My Name [from the U.S. edition of 2004’s The Silent Force] and Forgiven [The Heart Of Everything] are hard songs for me to sing. You’re so naked on stage with those. Sometimes, and without meaning to, singing those songs brings back so much that you find yourself in an emotional state. It’s beautiful really, because I am not ashamed to show that side of me. That feeling – you can’t get closer to the origins of a song than that. You want to connect with the feeling, but not to the point where you lose it, emotionally. But sometimes I do.”

Did the success of 2011’s The Unforgiving and 2014’s Hydra change you as a band? “Not really. You only see it when you look back. At the time you’re carried away by the flow of everything and you don’t always see things changing. Afterwards, I look back almost with surprise and understand that it was all pretty successful. Of course you note where you are in the charts and that’s always a sign that something’s happening, but it’s only later that you realise how important it was, or how people really understood and connected with a certain song or album.”

Did you feel under pressure to maintain that level of success? “Success is not something you can control. Even after [second album] Mother Earth in 2000, people were wondering whether we could keep it up. Every album has brought a different kind of success; it might be musically or it might be because more fans have discovered you. The only pressure we feel is about whether we still matter to the music scene. We want to make music that feels important to people. Music is essential to life, so being relevant to people is the only aim we have. It’s like a circle: you give, and you get back.”

What do you think caused the writer’s block you experienced in the build-up to last album Resist? “At a certain age, things start happening for the second time in your life. When I was younger my grandparents died, and then as you get older more people leave you. It’s inevitable. It’s that circle of life. It causes you to stop and reflect on what’s important. The problems began when my father started getting ill. There was too much emotion and I couldn’t deal with it. For me, when there’s too much emotion I can’t write. I feel overwhelmed by it all. I need to be able to put it in a place, to know where it’s coming from and how to deal with it. Only then can I make music. I can’t do it when I’m right in the middle of it.”

Did the band come close to breaking up? “In the beginning of that period, I didn’t know if we could come back. Eventually, it was that uncertainty about the future that enabled me to explore the emotions I was having. I was talking to everyone and realised it wasn’t just me going through it. Everyone was having trouble coming up with new music. Of course, we wanted to continue. Music and this band is my passion, but I realised that we had to change the balance. It also helped to realise that there were a lot of new things happening in music, and not just within our scene, so we took inspiration from those sources, too. My heart and roots are in metal and rock, but I like all kinds of music. The challenge was to interpret something that might be happening in pop into our own genre.”

How important was your 2018 solo project My Indigo in getting things moving again? “It forced me to get out of my comfort zone. It made me look at music in different ways and get creative again. A lot of what I learned helped when it came to Resist. The song Firelight was originally written for My Indigo, for example, but we roughened it up a bit and it ended up on Resist, so it was a sort of bridge between the two. Writing rock music again came naturally afterwards, and that was a huge relief. When you’ve done a lot of intimate stuff, the heavier material then seems to come more easily.”

Resist brought new sounds and themes to the table. Is it a one-off or the start of a new era? “We felt like we developed a lot on this album, but overall it’s still only a small step and we hope to take things even further, along similar lines, in future. The album was inspired by the way we live today, with everything done on the internet and the way that takes away our privacy. Often we are not aware of the impact social media has on us, or that certain companies know so much about what we’re doing. There are not enough laws to protect our privacy. Back in the Second World War people would burn archives, for example, to not give away the places that Jewish people were living. But now all that information would be available digitally. We don’t see the whole picture. We turn away from the ways in which data about us and our lives is being stored and used.”

Does it worry you that your children were born into a time where this seems normal? “The scary thing is that the younger generation, such as my children, don’t remember a time when this wasn’t the case. I know it makes me sound really old, but it’s dangerous that young people are so addicted to communicating online, and not in person or even on the phone. They’re in love with it; they don’t want to give it up. When I was young I had to go outside and talk to people and make friends that way. The worst thing for young people now is that they’re trying to do this through a phone screen, and actually they’re alone.”

How do you keep your voice in good nick on long tours? Nightwish’s Floor Jansen says it’s all down to her consumption of red wine, but she might have been joking… “(Laughs) If I’m honest, I also drink a lot of red wine, but I’m not so certain it’s that good for your voice exactly! In fact, being on tour itself helps you to maintain your vocal chords. It’s like a muscle, so it needs training. The more you do it, the smoother it gets. You just need to remember your warming up time. I drink a lot of ginger tea, too, which helps me out, but really, practice is everything.”

Word has it you’re already working on new music. What can you tell us? “I’m leaving for Sweden in order to isolate myself and focus on writing. Robert has been working hard on new music, too. That has been going really well. It’s a continuation from where we were on the last album, but in a more progressive way. We’re in a good flow right now. We want to take the sound we had on Resist and refine it even more. It’s heavy stuff that we’ve been coming up with; both heavy and up-tempo. That’s making me happy!”

#Sharon den Adel #within temptation #2020 interviews

19 notes · View notes

unsureofreligionname · 4 years

Text

This was meant to be me venting, but accidentally became a history of my relationship with religion instead.

Alright. So.

Came here to talk about religion because I have no outlet. If you don't want to hear it, just block me. I'm not trying to convert anyone, I'm just explaining things to see if anyone has a feckin name for my damn belief system, because I really want to avoid accidentally starting a religion or something and pissing everyone off more.

People who got pissy last time got on my ass about how I probably wasn't even ethnically jewish, so here's the whole story.

I was raised by a mother who was raised by a non-practicing jewish mother, both of whom converted to christianity in the late nineties, shortly before I was born. They're ethnically jewish, or so I'm told.

Not super related, but, in case it comes up later, I was raised with the belief that my mother's family is a long line of very careful psychics, which roughly means "a lot of the family is sensitive to spirit shit but avoids it like the plague because it's scary."

I was raised by a father who is, as far as I know, not ethnically jewish. He's of mixed asian heritage, so i guess maybe, but I'm going to assume he's not. His parents, however, were both religiously Jewish; my grandmother was adopted and raised Jewish, and my grandfather converted sometime between meeting and marrying my grandmother. They are reform. My father wasn't the most religious guy in the world, but, if you asked, he'd probably either make a joke about ohio state football or say that he was jewish.

I was raised by my father and mother together until I was seven. We didn't always consistently go to church in early childhood, but my mother did take me to two or three for months or years at a time during the 2-5 period. We celebrated christmas and easter, and i had an illustrated children's bible that, if I remember right, was split into two parts: the first was marketed to christian and jewish kids, and the latter- new testament- to christian kids. Guessing the marketing from the publishing organizations. I think I had a few other religious books and videotapes directed towards kids, both jewish and christian. I specifically remember one that illustrated mana as vanilla wafers for some reason. At seven, my parents divorced, and I primarily lived with my dad.

My dad didn't take me anywhere on the regular, but when I visited his parents for the full weekend, they'd take me to the synagogue. This was every couple of weeks. We celebrated major jewish holidays, but smaller festivals only really got a mention. When I was ten, my dad and stepmother married. She wasn't really religious, but her parents were christian, so christmas was back on our roster then, too.

I started going to hebrew school in 6th grade, but I didn't actually have a bar mitzvah because I ended up getting kicked out at around the time I turned 13 due to a whole thing about me going trick or treating when I was "too old" or whatever, shitty parents, so I ended up having to go live with my mom after that.

At this point, my mom was studying to become a youth pastor, and enrolled me into a local christian school with about a hundred students. Unfortunately, this ended up being a weird fundamentalist cult with its own textbooks and teachings, including that bacteria was not real, AIDS was a summoned by The Gays™ to kill all the christians, evolution was a conspiracy meant to dissuade people from religion, et cetera. It was fucking bizarre, at one point they called several of us posessed for being autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, and they categorized us students into the groups wise, fools, simple, and scorners. (I was a fool, by the way.) It was really not ideal, and the weird punishments were pretty traumatic. There was some weird brainwashy type word repetition involved with lookatthepersonsayokayanddothetask over and over and over, and it sucked.

So, I was at that school for about 18 months before they kicked me out for refusing to stand on one foot for an extended period of time after tapping my foot in class which caused a student who disliked me to complain.

At the same time, my mother was working at a small church out of town that wasn't exactly a cult, but I think the pastor kind of wanted it to be? It was like he wanted the cult aesthetic™ and devoted followers and shit, but only had the skill to make a really sketchy and toxic small town church with a lot of people sitting on blankets on the floor instead. That church honestly wasn't a big part of my life the way the fucked cult was, I just sort of went most weeks. I went to a confirmation class there- I'm pretty sure it was a methodist church- and got confirmed into it shortly before my mother left because the administration was weird in like an asshole way, and that was the last I knew of it.

I was homeschooled for a while during the end of this period due to all of the school stuff. Religiously, by this point in my life, I'd developed some of my own beliefs. I believed in most of the new testament and most of the torah, but I didn't have much exposure to the talmud or much of a comprehensive education in any religion. I think I read a bible cover to cover at least once as a kid, including some shitty commentary (it was a preteen bible) that gave me some internalized homophobia issues for actual years. I was also super curious about the paranormal but terrified of possession- remember the cult?- and I was curious about the idea of some people being reincarnated if they were needed on earth again. Not sure where exactly that idea came from, but it was there. People told me from a lot of sides that those with the wrong religion would go to hell, and the cult tried to teach us all to convert people at any opportunity, but, after leaving, the whole situation just made me massively uncomfortable. I did continue to practice the jewish traditions I knew how to do on my own- like hannukah and a weird private sort of passover- and my mother would support this by getting me what I needed for it, even though she didn't participate and I didn't go to any place of worship during holidays.

After getting kicked out of school not that long after adjusting to not seeing my dad or siblings on his side, we moved. My dad lost custody at some point and we no longer had to live close, so we moved and tried to find a better school. It was a Catholic grade school this time, and I was there for about six months, if I had to guess. It was actually a pretty good school, but I had some issues at the time, so I didn't enjoy it much. I was scared of teachers and administration by then, and I had trouble going the entire school day without panicking or not being able to work. There was a period of a week or two in which I didn't speak at school at all. We ended up settling on half days, and, after that, I did well.

The religion class was awkward. The other kids seemed to know more than me even though I'd thought I had a good grasp on religion at that point, and the little information we shared I'd been taught from a very different perspective. Everyone was very nice to me, but I definitely stood out as the kid who wasn't catholic at that point.

Chapel was even weirder. We had to go every wednesday during school, and catholic churches had so many traditions I didn't know about, and the stuff I knew about from either my jewish grandparents or protestant churches had a different name for some reason.

I'm looking at you, sacraments.

Anyway.

I don't think I got much out of the chapel, but religion classes were kind of cool. I liked learning about stuff I hadn't heard before, and the things that were the same were a comfort.

Soon, though, I was graduating eighth grade. I ended up going to a catholic high school. I was still out of place, but I at least had a basic idea of what to do during the mass this school had monthly.

I liked the religion classes here more, how they were an open discussion of everyone's opinions and experiences, and I liked that both of the most recent schools I'd gone to had actual textbooks with facts and studies in them. There were more kids there who weren't catholic, and I felt more comfortable to actually explore religious topics with people. I had a better understanding of catholic beliefs, a decent idea of their traditions, and could recognize at least a few of their holidays I couldn't have before.

I spent my last year of high school at a public career center to start working towards a medical career.

Now, my current beliefs. If you don't want to read it, then just don't.

I haven't been to any place of worship since my school required it, but I do have strong beliefs. I believe in one God (which I generally write all the way out after a billion essays for religion class) who created everything and watches over humans, which he made in his image, etc etc etc. I believe the old stories from the tanakh/old testament/don't care what you call it and the new- yes, including the key messiah bit- though I do think it wasn't all translated perfectly and that it was written by humans who made mistakes and poor decisions sometimes in their writing. I believe people's salvation comes through their intention, not through a piece of knowledge or a creed or good deeds or a tradition, and I believe different people worshipping in different ways is how it should be, because different people NEED different styles of worship. I believe that if someone is genuinely mistaken and incorrect in who or what they believe in, it doesn't MATTER because it's the intention to strive to do good and not harm fellow people that counts. I'm a little guarded about sharing my own beliefs, hence why I made an anonymous tumblr account, but I'm generally very curious to hear about what other people believe. I find that, for me, celebrating Jewish holidays and traditions helps me get closer to God, and I'd like to find a place of worship one day, but churches fucking terrify me now. I worship best by sitting and discussing beliefs, but I have no place to do it now that I've graduated school. I also developed some of my less related beliefs now: I believe in a lot of old stories that have popped up around the world, like fairies of various places, different creatures and entities and things that have become the subject of curiosity or worship, spirits and things, etc. I think many of these creatures exist, just that they may be different from us in the nature of how they interact with the world and matter and that, and I don't think they're deities or anything. I believe in ghosts of humans in some cases, too, though I believe sometimes other things mimic them. I don't find the idea of God having someone reincarnated if he wants the same soul to play many parts in the world unlikely at all, though that's really just me speculating. I still believe in demons, and I still don't want anything to do with them.

A lot of my understanding of things comes from Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant teaching in a strange mishmosh of culture and religion.

I relate to a lot of things directed at Jewish people, and I understand what's directed at Catholic people. Things directed at Protestant people are both understood and, unfortunately, make me instinctively wary due to weird cult trauma (that in no way reflects on actual protestant people, i love you guys some people just suck and twist religion) so are hard to interact with.

In a lot of ways, I'd consider myself Jewish. Culturally, at least, if my religious beliefs aren't "validly jewish" or whatever.

I have literally zero actual connections to any Catholic church, but I almost feel like a weird half-catholic. That's not a thing, but it's how it feels. I believe a lot of it, and I'm interested in all of it, even if I have my disagreements, plus I understand the environments and culture of it, even if I'm a bit of an outsider.

A year- or maybe two years, idk- ago, I mentioned some upcoming holiday or smth in a post and tagged it messianic. That's the closest name I could find for my experience, but apparently some organizations who use the term suck or something. I ended up getting a bunch of asks calling me a predatory fake jew or a fundamentalist christian trying to appropriate judaism or other weird shit that I'm NOT DOING. Because of my experiences in the past, those comments still weigh so damn heavy on my that I broke my resolve and made this stupid account to complain about it.

I don't have a name for what I am. I don't know where to go to talk about my beliefs with people, or what environment I could find to actually practice whatever weird faith I've dreamt up with other people in a way that isn't just picking part of what I believe and leaving the rest to rot. I feel closer to God and more spiritually fulfilled practicing the festivals that call back to what the Jewish people of old went through, but I also believe in the messiah of the new testament, and I like to read the pope's opinion on things, even though I think no human is perfect or infallible. I want to talk about old writings with people and discuss what they mean, from my religion or others, and I don't want to give any of what's right for me spiritually up.

I don't know what this post is for.

Maybe I'm just venting, but I do want to know if this is a thing or if I'm the only one with this belief system. I'm sick of getting shit for the actions of people who I'm not affiliated with, so apparently calling myself messianic doesn't cut it. I can't call myself "spiritual but not religious" either, because I'm very religious, it's just very personal and not something I shove at people, and "christian" doesn't describe a solid half of what I believe. Off and on again I've considered converting to Catholicism, but I think that's kind of grasping at the closest thing that won't piss off tumblr anons as much. (And yeah, the larger Catholic church can suck, but I honestly think I'm gonna get that with any religion with a large following)

Rambling aside:

I want to find a short description that hits the major points of what I believe in order to help me find a place or group of worship that actually matches my spiritual needs without compromising the cultures that I grew up with and making me feel like shit.

(Also don't try to change my beliefs thanks)

I'll be tagging this with anything I've mentioned or vaguely heard of that might be related so relax ok

6 notes · View notes

another-blog-bites-the-dust · 5 years

Text

Invisible.

Summary: After being invisible for most of your life, you finally find John who- years later- sees who you really are.

Warnings: Lots of angst I HATED MAKING JOHN UPSET 😭 swearing, violence, slight suggestiveness, general pain because John gets so angry but ends with fluff!

A/N: John is too innocent for this...which is why I put him through it 😭😅I hope you enjoy! 💖

You always felt invisible to the world, that was probably one of the main reasons why you were so good at your job. You blended in and always perfectly camouflaged between the buildings. No one ever took a second glance at you, they barely noticed you were there anyway.

Except one person.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" You looked up from the book you were reading on the park bench one sunny evening in July. Your brow crinkled slightly, people in London weren't the friendliest so why was the man beside you starting a conversation?

A small smile appeared on your face "Lovely," you replied "The sun makes the roses smell sweeter for some reason. You can smell the row of flowerbeds filled with them at the front of the park way back here when the sun is shining." You discreetly placed your bookmark between two pages and shut over the book.

The man inhaled some air though his nose- you were right. "John Deacon," You shook his hand but hesitated giving him your name. You eventually told him with a shy grin. You read people well and he was full of innocence and obliviousness. He didn't know who you were and chances were he never would. "There's a cracking little cafe just over there," he pointed to it and you could just see it between the trees. "Fancy a tea, Y/N?"

Since that day you had been drawn to John. He had flirted endlessly with you in the first few weeks you had known him. You hung about the streets of London a lot, he took you to a music shop that was one of his favourites and smugly showed you him expertly strumming a bass guitar with a cheeky grin on his face. "Very impressive," you purred and walked around the shop.

John put the guitar down and then placed his hands in his pockets "Uh...my mum asked if you'd like to come round for dinner tonight?" He asked, not looking up to you due to nerves.

You smiled to yourself, looking at the guitars hanging up on the walls. "You've told your mum about me?"

"Course I have!" He said "I never want to shut up when I start telling people how gorgeous you are or how smart you are." He shyly bit down on his lip, he was taken aback when you casually linked your arm through his, the first of any type of contact with him.

"I'd love that, John." You both didn't know that much about each other- well, you knew more about him than he did of you after all the extensive background checks you did on him and his family. They were nothing for you to worry about. When he asked what you did for a living you had told John that you worked with a security firm- technically that was kind of true. He didn't know the extensiveness of it and there was a fairly large chance he would never know. John picked you up later that night and you went to his parents house, you had bought his mum a bunch of flowers and John's father a bottle of wine. His father mused over the Italian wine with an impressed tone as he inspected the bottle. You didn't want to say that you manged to pick it up when you were in Italy last week being treated like a punchbag- perks of the job.

"So Y/N!" John's mother smiled at you from across the table. You were sat next to John who kept discreetly placing his hand on your knee every now and then. "Do you live in London on your own or do you stay with your parents?"

John shot his mother a wide eyed glare, he gently squeezed on your knee and was about to answer on behalf of you, he wasn't sure how you'd react to that question. He already knew what the answer would be. "Uh no," you sadly smiled "My parents passed away when I was sixteen. I lived with my grandparents until I got a place of my own a few years ago." You placed your hand on top of John's and he released his grip on your knee when you began soothingly rubbing your fingers over his knuckles. John's mother profoundly apologised over and over but you assured her it was alright, she didn't know.

After dinner John took you up to his old bedroom. "Sorry about mum,"

"No," you smiled and took his hand "It's okay!" You were leaning up against the wall, John was moving closer and closer to you. He gently pressed his lips to yours, even though you knew he was going to kiss you, it still took you by surprise. He pulled back faster than his lips were on yours and nervously apologised. You grinned and grabbed his hand before he could move away and tugged him towards you. "Only apologise if you're not going to do it again..." you smiled and John happily took that as a sign. His lips were on yours once more.

•••

"Things between you and John getting serious then?" Your colleague and friend, Mark, asked. "Only I heard that you've moved in with him now."

You shrugged a shoulder with a small smile on your face "A part of me hopes it's getting serious...the other part is petrified that he's going to find out everything." You sighed and sat down next to Mark to get some advice. "How did you tell Claire?" You asked, referring to his wife.

"I didn't. You know we can't tell anyone unless they find out- even then we can only tell them so much." He tapped away on the computer in front of him "I know you're worried something bad is going to happen to him," you glanced up to Mark and then let your eyes fall. He was right. In this line of work people were always after you and you didn't want to put John in any danger. "There's a way you can kind of keep him under a watchful eye- aside from security cameras and such." He motioned to the gold chain on your neck that had a locket attached. It was more than just a necklace- it was a tracking device. "Give him your tracker, you can always get another one."

You nodded and let out a sigh. "He's going on a European tour. He leaves tomorrow afternoon." You said. "It's good when he's gone- not good," you quickly corrected yourself feeling a little guilty for saying that. "But easier." Mark hummed, understandingly. "When he's touring he doesn't know I'm in another country almost dying," you chortled and nervously picked at your fingernails. "I think he would be crushed if he ever found out about what I do. That's why I'm hoping he'll never find out." You took off your necklace "But for now I can try and keep him safe."

Later that night, your head was resting on your hand while you traced your fingers across John's bare chest while your legs were intertwined together. "I'll miss you so much," John smiled "But I'll be back in a few weeks."

"You'll be too busy rocking out every night to miss me," you smirked and pressed a kiss to his lips. "I want you to have something," you whispered, looking deep into John's eyes before taking off your necklace and clasping it around his neck. He grinned and glanced down, rubbing it between his fingers. "Keep a piece of me with you and you'll always be safe..." you brushed your fingers over the chain, tears welling in your eyes.

"I'll never take it off my neck so long as shall live." He kissed you "I'll treasure it forever." You let out a small sob and hugged him tightly. "Love," John cooed "I'm only gone for a few weeks, I'll be home back in bed with you before you know it."

"I know," you sniffled and curled up against him. The necklace shone in the faint moonlight, almost taunting you. "Stay safe."

•••

You flinched and stood up straight when you heard your superior announce herself. "Ma'am," you nodded. She handed you a file "What's this?" You asked with your brow furrowing slightly at the papers that read: 'SECURITY BRIEFING' at the top.

"The royals, Prince Charles and Princess Diana, have specifically asked for you to be their guard at Live Aid next week."

You went wide eyed and hurried to catch up with her "I c-can't do that ma'am!" Your voice trembled "J-John- Queen! Queen are going to be there and John will see me!" It had been a few years since John returned from his tour around Europe. Your necklace was still hanging from his neck. And an engagement ring was hanging from yours. You never wore it at work or on a job- if someone caught you, they'd know you had someone that they could use against you. You always slipped it on when you arrived home though.

She raised a brow and folded her arms at your outburst. "Sadly we do not get to pick and choose in this field, agent." She said between gritted teeth. "Especially when the royals specifically asked for you. Most people would be thrilled at that! You have been their guard many times over the years and they consider you one of the best and the most professional. You will do this." You huffed and ran a hand through your hair, debating with her about John. She narrowed her eyes "Make yourself invisible then. You're good at that."

"John always sees me!" Your voice cracked "Ma'am-"

She held up her hand "This discussion is finished, Y/L/N. I'm sorry but this has to be done." She walked away and you let out frustrated growl under your breath.

John noticed a shift in your mood after that day, he was getting worried. "Are you going to be there tomorrow?" He asked and you hesitated taking a sip of tea.

"Uh...I meant to say," you placed down your mug "Work needs me and I...I'm sorry, John."

His eyes softened and he hugged you- you were surprised at his reaction. "Is this why you've been acting weird over the past week? Because you can't go tomorrow?"

"I know how important this is to you and the boys..." your voice was shaking and so were your hands. "I'm sorry," you whispered and a tear fell down your cheek.

John was quick to wipe it away "Hey, hey, hey! It's okay!" He smiled reassuringly.

"Why are you always so good to me? So understanding?" You turned away from him and let out a staggered breath. "I don't deserve you..."

John scoffed and hugged you from behind "Now don't you be getting all like that! There's plenty more concerts for you to come too!" He turned you to face him. "Please don't cry," he softly rubbed away your tears with his thumbs while cupping your face. "You'll set me off!" You pressed your forehead against his and he pecked your nose. "Why don't we have an early night, hmm? Would you like that?" You tentatively nodded. 24 hours from now this could all be very different but you had to try and be invisible from John and the band- it was the only way.

•••

"Is everything alright?" You looked up to the soft voice and blinked "Only you look a little nervous, Y/N."

You smiled "I'm perfectly alright, your highness." She raised her brow. Diana knew you well enough now that something was the matter. You sighed "Queen are playing so that means John's here today and...and he doesn't know what I do." You explained and she sent you a sympathetic smile. You had told her all about him and of course, your worries about him eventually finding out. Over the years you both confided in each other and considered each other as more a close friend and not as a member of the royal family and a bodyguard. "I have to keep myself invisible from him."

She placed a hand on your arm and sent you a small smile "I'll do my bit to help," she winked and you grinned.

"I'm the once supposed to be protecting you...not the other way about!" You laughed and she giggled. You all walked through backstage to get to their seats.

"Your highness!" Someone stopped and bowed in front of Charles and Diana and you swiftly raised an arm across them, reminding the person of their boundaries. "Some of the performers would like to meet you!" Diana shot you a concerned gaze but you sent her a small nod when you noticed The Who and Bowie up ahead. Queen were no where in sight. You kept close to the royals as they moved forward and shook people's hands. "And here comes more royalty!" You froze catching a glimpse of John's fluffy hair. You looked to the ground and tried to hide your face a little. But you looked up just as John glanced behind Diana, his smile falling. He opened his mouth to call out your name but Diana stood in front of him, blocking his line of vision.

"John Deacon, isn't it?" She sweetly smiled and held out her hand for him to shake. John couldn't deny royalty. He shook her hand but still tried to look to see if it was really you behind her. "Very nice to meet you- thank you for your contribution today." She sweetly smiled. "We should be going to our seats." She gently nudged Charles who nodded in agreement. Diana discreetly pulled you with her to try and get you out of the situation. John stood there numb- he didn't know what to feel. Was it actually you?

"Thank you," you sadly whispered to her "You didn't have to do that for me..."

She smiled and reassuringly squeezed your hand "I know, but you risk your life for us...it's the least I can do." You sat beside her while you watched the concert- watching John on stage always made your heart swell. When they finished you stood up and clapped with tears welling in your eyes. Then the band bloody sat behind you all- just your luck. You could hear John murmur your name to the boys and you shut your eyes over, shakily sighing and bracing yourself for a hand tapping on your shoulder.

Then you felt the tap. Your eyes flickered over your shoulder and you saw a flash of blonde. "It is you!" Roger smiled. Diana sent you a wary glance and you reassured her with a small nod. "John was wondering-"

You cut him off "I'm working." You hissed and looked at John who looked as if he wanted to ask you a million questions. "I can't talk to any of you right now..." you turned back around and rubbed the bridge of your nose between your fingers. You had a lot of explaining to do.

•••

You arrived home, there was a faint glow coming from the kitchen. You sighed and placed your keys down before walking through. John was sitting at the table with a cup of tea that was half empty. He looked up to you and then took a sip. You sat down across from him and began twirling your fingers. "I didn't plan on telling you like this..." you quietly admitted.

"No, I bet you weren't going to tell me at all." John snapped. He had every right to be angry with you and you were ready for his wrath, but it still hurt. "What even are you?" He asked with tears starting to sting his eyes. "What do you do? Are you a bodyguard?"

"Sometimes," you whispered.

John banged his fist against the table and you flinched. "Stop being so vague with me!"

"I couldn't tell you unless you knew!" Your voice raised and a tear slipped down your face.

"That doesn't even make any sense!" John turned away and loudly sniffled. "Who do you work for? Clearly not a typical security firm!"

"MI5 originally....now MI6," you told him even though you really shouldn't have- your revelation shocked him, you could see it on his face. "Secret service agent- I suppose you could class me as a spy depending on the situation. The royals often request me as a bodyguard. I uh...carry out a lot of reconnaissance missions, things like that."

"Have you got hurt before?" He asked, his anger briefly being clouded by concern.

"Sometimes," you replied.

"Badly?" John raised a wary brow and you shook your head no but didn't look him in the eye. A moment of silence passed. "Have you been shot at before?" He asked in a low tone.

"No." Lie.

"Have you shot at someone else before?"

"No." Lie.

He remained quiet for a few seconds. "Have you killed someone before?" You looked to the table and then back to John.

"No." Lie.

"Are you lying?" He sternly asked. You sighed and looked away from him- your silence said it all. "Why all the lies?!" He cried, hot tears flowing down his red cheeks.

"Because I've always been invisible John!" You shouted, taking him by surprise. "Even you only saw a certain extent of me but now...now you can see it all- you can really see me!" You leaned forward "I know what you see...you see a monster. You don't see the woman you fell in love with!"

"I'VE ALWAYS SEEN HER!" He yelled even louder than you and that knocked you back a little. "What was going to happen if you died on the job? Huh?" He seethed- almost hating himself for thinking like that.

"I wrote a letter-"

He cut you off with an unamused, fake laugh. "Oh a letter! Of course! 'Sorry, love, if you're reading this I've been lying this entire time about what I do and well, when's a better time to tell you in an agent for the secret service? When I'm dead!'" He screamed and stood up, leaning over the table. "I bet you didn't even think about me...think about us!" You sadly looked to the chain around his neck and wanted to tell him that of course you thought about him- that necklace around his neck was proof of that. But you stood up and said that you were going to bed- you didn't want to aggravate him any further. You were waiting for John to climb in beside you, wrap his arm around your waist and then whisper sweet words in your ear that would send you off to sleep- but those things never came. When you got up the next morning with stinging eyes and a headache, he wasn't there and your necklace was sitting on the kitchen table.

You eventually arrived at work and sat down with a groan next to Mark. "John found out," you said in a groggy voice. "Left me this morning...wasn't there then I woke up and he took off the necklace." You sighed and shook your head. "The worse part isn't even that he found out...the worse part was seeing the look of fear, disappointment and anger on his face."

Mark placed a hand on your shoulder "He doesn't understand why you lied, Y/N. He doesn't understand that we all have to lie to protect the ones we love. I know that John loves you unconditionally but you have to give him some time. He'll be asking himself a million questions right now- time is the best thing you can give him." You tightly smiled and nodded tentatively. "Got the files for your next mission. A good distraction for you!" He smirked and you just about managed to crack a smile.

You glanced over the notes before being summoned by your boss. You made the journey up to her office, dragging your heels on the way down the hall. You opened the door and went wide eyed "J-John?" You whispered and felt tears pricking your eyes. "W-why are you here?" You asked and stepped further into the office, shutting the door behind you.

"Found him practically demanding to speak with me, Y/L/N," she glared at John. "Take a seat," she motioned to the chair across from John. You sat down and looked at him, it looked like he had barely slept and had been crying for hours. "Mr Deacon," your boss captured his attention. "You must understand that everything that is said in here is all classified information- that also applies to every word she said last night." You placed your head in your hand- of course she'd know you'd tell him. "Because if you say anything, you do not only put her in danger, but you also put yourself in danger." John squeezed his eyes shut and dismally nodded.

"I just...need to be reassured that she'll be okay. If anything happened to-" he cut himself off and began crying again. It broke your heart. You reached for his hand and he let you take it, he was still angry at you for not telling him but it was comforting to know that you were there for him.

An idea popped into your mind. "Show him a scenario situation- five minutes is all I'm asking for."

She laughed at your mad suggestion. "Bold of you assume five minutes is enough time for you..." she uttered.

"Bold of you assume that five minutes isn't enough time for me," you challenged. "If he doesn't get to see me in a situation- I'm walking. I'll hand in my badge and my gun." John's brows raised when you mentioned a gun. "Please," you pleaded. "I want John to know that I can handle myself in dangerous situations. I need to assure him." He gently squeezed your hand and you softly smiled. It was something he always did when he heard you getting upset.

Your boss sighed and nodded "Fine. Five minutes, four men-"

You cut her off "Eight."

"Four!" She raised her voice a little.

You kept your cool "Eight."

"Okay...six!" She said.

"Ten."

She was getting to the end of her tether. You knew you'd get your demand. "Fine! You want ten- you get ten!" She snapped. "Ten men in five minutes...lucky boys. Get yourself organised, agent." You stood up and nodded at her with a smile. It fell slightly with guilt when you glanced at John. He watched you leave the room and a few minutes later, he left with your boss.

John was lead to a room with a two way mirror on the wall. It looked into a room with ten men in it. They had various dangerous weapons in their belts and wearing protective body armour. John saw you sitting in the middle on a chair with your hands and legs bound. "Why doesn't she have anything?" He asked, worry laced between every word.

Your boss proudly smiled. "She doesn't need anything." She held down a button and spoke into a microphone. "Time starts...now." In a blink of an eye you had already managed to untie yourself and take down one of the ten men. You grabbed the gun that was in his belt and began shooting. John jumped and held his chest. Your boss smirked "It's alright, Mr Deacon...all weapons are duds and the guns fire blanks. It's just an indication of wether they are out of the scenario or not. If they take her on with hand on hand combat, they shout out before she's able to seriously hurt them...or kill them." She smirked and John gulped. He watched you use your whole body as a weapon. The same body he tickled when he was feeling playful. The same body he rubbed when it was tense. The same body he kissed and caressed. The same body he held and worshiped when he made love to you. He glanced at the clock- a minute left with three men remaining. You easily took down two of them within seconds of each other. The last man standing punched you in the face a little too hard and you could taste blood on your lip. You growled and managed to flip him by the arm and press him against the two way mirror. John jumped back and watched the man scream out that he was finished. You dropped him with ten seconds to spare. "I hope you understand Mr Deacon...your fiancée is the best agent and weapon we have." She turned to John "That's why I did this favour for her...for both of you." She glanced behind John's shoulder and he turned. He saw you by the doorframe wiping the blood away from your lip. "I'll let you have a moment together."

You sent her a thankful smile and she shut the door behind you. You were both silent for a few minutes until you finally spoke up. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you," you whispered. "I couldn't. It went against protocol and I couldn't put you in any danger. I love you too much to do that to you, so I kept a part of me from you- a part I knew you probably wouldn't be able to love anyway." John sniffled slightly and discreetly tried to wipe away his tears. "Lots of people want me dead, John." You lowly spoke and his eyes snapped up to you, narrowing with worry. "If they knew about you...I'd hate to think what would happen. I just wanted to keep you safe- hence the necklace." You let out a shaky sigh "It's a tracking device."

He nodded "Of course it is...why wouldn't it be?!" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm still angry, Y/N," he admitted "But I will always love you." You let out a sob and John rushed over to you and wrapped his arms around you. "Every part of you," he whispered and hugged you tighter before pulling back and wiping away the small dot of blood on your lip. "You're really good...no! Amazing- at what you do!"

"Sadly that's only scratching the surface of my skills..." you whispered. You laced your fingers with John's "I'm sorry." John just held you in his arms, they were warm and always made you feel safe. He couldn't stay with you all day- you still had work to do and eventually had to leave MI6 but he was in the house when you arrived home. And he was wearing the necklace.

"Thought we could watch a film and snuggle on the sofa tonight?" He suggested and you nodded with a smile. He put on the video and you curled up beside him on the couch with a blanket over you both. John glanced down at you in awe. He couldn't believe how normal you really were, especially when he had seen you take down ten men only hours before.

"What's the film?" You asked and John gulped- not knowing if you'd laugh or kill him at the choice. The theme to James Bond played and you slowly looked to John with a glare. "I just thought that the two of you had a lot in common and I- no! S-stop!" He laughed as you tickled him. "I t-thought it would be f-funny!" He said between giggles. You stopped tickling him when you realised your faces were inches apart. John closed the gap and grabbed your face, passionately kissing you and then pinning you to the couch. "The love of my life is a fucking badass spy." You let out a loud laugh and he kissed you again.

"Thank you, John...for giving me another chance," you kissed him again "And seeing me when I was invisible." You brushed your fingers over his cheeks before deciding to show him how strong you really were by picking him up bridal style- causing him to laugh. "I think my next mission is going to be my best one," you grinned and John raised a brow, asking you what the mission was. You smirked and headed towards the bedroom "It's an undercover mission with you," you suggestively purred and John's eyebrows swiftly raised and a boyish grin spread across his face. John thought that maybe having a fiancée who was a spy wasn't such a bad thing.

———————————

Tags- (Tag list is open! Just let me know if you want to be tagged or not!)

@rrrogah-tayluhh @rogerofmylife @phantom-fangirl-stuff @pyrotechnic789 @deacytits @mercurys-bike @thatgeekspeak @mhftrs @dannydelay @queenismylifenow @whitequeen-blackqueen @stateofloveandvedder @blondyfel @mespetitestortues @trickster-may @xtrashmammalstefx

394 notes · View notes

sweetteaanddragons · 5 years

Text

Ancient History

Bruthir glared down at one of the small cakes his landlady had made in honor of the occasion and tried to ignore the sounds of jubilation in the street outside the alley he was sulking in. It was harder than it had been for the past few hours; the noise had swelled, first with music that had very nearly lulled him out, then with shouting once the music ended. A few people had run into his alley, looking around wildly, but they had left quickly enough when they had seen that there was nothing more interesting than him sitting on his barrel, glaring at his last cake. His curiosity had nearly provoked him into asking who or what they were looking for, but that would have required ending his sulk, and he still had several hours left in which to do that. That had been his deal with himself: today he could sulk, and tomorrow he would have to get back to work.

Not even today, though, could he ignore the cloaked man who came running into the alley via an even narrower one. The man’s face was shadowed, but his head turned frantically, and it froze in place when Bruthir came into its view.

“Don’t mind me,” he called glumly. “Unless you’re planning to set the whole city ablaze, I don’t much care what you’re running from.”

The figure relaxed and moved closer. “Nothing so bad as all that,” he said a bit hoarsely, and Bruthir got a glimpse of a harp under his cloak. “Merely a disappointed audience.” He hesitated. “And in the interest of complete honesty, possibly the city guard if they’ve decided I disturbed the peace.”

Bruthir was almost certain he was missing something, but he was even more certain he didn’t care. “Pull up a barrel then.” Sulking had started to feel a bit lonely, so when the man lingered in the shadows of the other alley, he lifted up his cake enticingly. “I’ll share my cake.”

The stranger laughed. “It has indeed been a very long time since I’ve had any cake. Thank you, I accept.”

Bruthir tore it in half and handed it over. “If only it was for another occasion.”

The stranger paused, and there was not so much an air of hesitance this time as tension. Bruthir gulped and resisted the urge to lean back.

“You don’t approve of the king’s marriage?”

The stranger’s hood had shifted, and Bruthir managed to catch a quick glimpse of sharp, gaunt features and the beginning of a pointed ear. In a moment it was gone, but it had been enough. Bruthir might be more accustomed to them in books than life, but he knew an elf when he saw one. This must be one of the ones that had come for Lady Arwen and the marriage, though he couldn’t imagine what the elf was doing this far from the main event. Regardless, the last thing he wanted was for this elf to carry back tales of discontent to the new royal couple.

“The king’s marriage is fine,” he said hastily. “He’s every right to marry whoever he likes, and I’m sure the Lady Arwen is an excellent choice.”

The elf was still regarding him silently. Apparently an explanation of his sullenness would be required.

He sighed. “It’s just made my thesis very awkward, that’s all. I’m probably going to have to start all over if I’m to have any hope of it being approved.”

“Your - thesis,” the elf said disbelievingly, but he had at least relaxed enough to take a bite of the cake.

“I want to be a scholar in the citadel,” he explained. “I’ve been studying for years. All that’s left is the thesis which has to be approved by my elders and - if it meets their approval - either the steward or the king. That last step is more of a formality than anything else really, everyone I’ve talked to has said that Denethor certainly never did more than give them a cursory glance, but at the very least they’ll surely read the title.”

“And the title is not complimentary towards elves?” the stranger asked. He seemed more amused than offended, thankfully.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just . . . complicated.”

The elf took a seat on a nearby barrel and leaned back against the stone wall behind him. “Tell me about it,” he suggested. “Maybe I can help.”

Well, why not? Maybe he could. At the very least, he needed to get out one good rant.

“There’s been a lot written on the changing view of the elves in Numenor,” he began. “Quite naturally, as that view was generally tied to that of the Valar and thus was tied with the fall, a subject that continues to preoccupy many. I decided to focus on a more specific group of elves: those involved in the myths surrounding Sirion.”

The elf let out a strangled noise. “Myths?”

“Well, we know it was real, but exactly what happened has become rather obscured by time . . . “ His voice trailed off. “Although not for the elves, I suppose,” he said with fresh interest. “Did you know anyone who was there?”

“Yes,” the elf said shortly. Bruthir briefly wrestled with whether or not to pry before remembering that his thesis was useless now anyway and slumping down again.

“Elwing and Earendil held a special place as King Elros Tar-Minyatur’s parents, of course, but the Feanorians were also a subject of considerable fascination to the Numenoreans. By the end, all elves were scorned by all but the Faithful, and the Faithful had become a little uncomfortable with both groups since both had defied the Valar.”

“The Feanorians I can hardly argue, but surely Elwing and Earendil - ?”

“But they sailed,” Bruthir said, shaking his head. “And with both of them half-mortal too! It worked out for them in the end - or so we think, there’s some interesting subversive readings about exactly how literally we should take Earendil being a star - but they still sailed to the Undying Lands, the very thing the King’s Men wished to do. You can see why the Faithful didn’t wish to promote that tale.”

“I suppose so.”

“For those very reasons, in the transition period when the King’s Men didn’t take quite such a hard stance against elves, the Feanorians and the half-elven were treated as honorable exceptions for their defiance and, in the latter case, for their connection to mortality and their kinship with the first king. Later in that period, Earendil and Elwing were considered to have sold out to the Valar while the Feanorians lingered on as a symbol of defiance and the right to sail where people willed whether the Valar willed or no - Are you alright?”

The elf’s hooded head had fallen into his hands. “I’m fine,” he said, sounding rather muffled. “Keep going.”

“If you’re sure,” he said doubtfully. “Further back, there’s a much less complicated veneration of Earendil and Elwing and the Feanorians were less prominent except for those engaged in studies of history or who enjoyed the occasional tragedy at the theater.”

“Theater?” The elf asked, his voice a mix of interest and dread.

“We have a few surviving fragments,” Bruthir said, “though of course so much was lost that it’s hard to be sure of conclusions. We could be missing something critical. Which is what made the final section of my thesis so risky.” He ate a bite of cake despondently. “I was tracing it all backwards, you see, so the final section was on what King Elros himself thought.”

The elf’s head shot up so quickly his hood fell off. He really was quite gaunt. Dangerously so. He hadn’t thought elves suffered from scarcity. “And what did you conclude?”

“Well, that’s the interesting thing,” he said, getting caught up despite himself and leaning forward. “There’s almost nothing. Granted, it could have just been lost, but those early records were among those texts prioritized for salvation. We have plenty of scraps about the war, and those mention all of them, but in the praise poems and genealogies . . . You’ll find some things about Gondolin, but very little about Doriath, and even less about anyone at all involved in Sirion. The one scrap we thought we did have is a letter where his daughter comments to a friend that a bard had sung of her grandparents and the Feanorians, and that the king had been ‘very much displeased, and not nearly so diplomatic as usual about it.’ Which is interesting, but hardly conclusive. Were they too flattering to parents he resented? Not flattering enough to parents he idolized? Too prone to glorifying his kidnappers? Too prone to vilifying the men who must have played a large part in his raising? Was it too accurate and raised up bad memories? Or was it all wrong and offensive for it?” He took a deep breath. “You see the problem.”

The other man slumped. “I do.”

“Then I made my discovery. Apparently, he was a bit of a musician himself, and on the back of a rather more historically significant document, I found what I’m almost sure are quickly sketched drafts of his own attempt to memorialize the events. He seemed very . . . frustrated. With both his failed attempts and with everyone involved in the actual event. But he also seemed very wistful. Fond, even.” He sighed. “So that was my conclusion. But while it’s one thing to present such a thing to a steward, and even an acceptable thing to present such a thing to the king about his far distant ancestor, it’s quite another to hand it off for review when it’s talking about the queen’s uncle. And her grandparents, for that matter.”

The elf swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Quite. She never met any of them, but I’m sure her father has told her much.” He looked away for a moment, and when he turned back, his face was more cheerful. “Perhaps if you dropped the parts about the far more controversial Feanorians and concentrated on her grandparents that would be better? You could add in something flattering about how they’re thought of now.”

“I’m not much good at flattery,” he said doubtfully, but hope was rising in him regardless. Perhaps not all his research would have to be thrown out.

“Turn it in as is,” another voice recommended. “I, for one, am very interested in reading it.”

Both of them spun to see that another elf had slipped in through of the mouth of the alley while they were distracted. Some strong emotion lurked almost hidden on his face. His splendid clothes opened Bruthir’s eyes to just how ragged his first companion’s were.

Said companion had gone very pale. “Elrond.” He dropped off his barrel and began to back away.

Elrond? Not - Surely not the Elrond that was the queen’s father -

“Don’t,” Elrond pleaded, reaching out a hand. “Please don’t run, Maglor. Not today of all days.”

Maglor. Not -

Did you know someone at Sirion?

He had not asked that question of Maglor Feanorian. That was impossible. He was dead. Or wandering lost somewhere that wasn’t Gondor’s back alleyways.

But surely no one else would have chosen that name for their son?

Maglor, son of someone who was not Feanor, slumped and held up his hands in defeat. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” he said. “I am - very sorry to have disturbed you today. So very sorry. I only wanted to give a gift of song, even if your daughter wouldn’t hear it. I hadn’t realized I would draw such a crowd as to cause a disturbance, out of practice with performance as I am.”

Elrond was the first elf Bruthir had ever seen look exasperated. It was a very human expression on him. “Maglor, you remain the greatest bard the Noldor have ever produced. Of course you drew a crowd. A crowd that is now very disappointed at how you vanished when the city guard got lured in to listening, mind you.”

The greatest bard the Noldor had ever produced.

So this was Maglor Feanorian.

He had just ranted to Maglor Feanorain about his place in the Numenorean imagination. Historical ecstasy hit self-preserving nausea and roiled unpleasantly.

“Someone mentioned the incident to Faramir. I was lucky enough to overhear,” Elrond continued. “And when I heard that a ragged elf had enchanted half the city with songs for the wedding . . . Well, it was either you or Daeron, and I liked my chances.”

Maglor’s head fell. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should have realized my good intentions would still turn to the ill.”

“The ill?” Elrond laughed, and Bruthir abruptly realized that the hidden emotion was joy. “Today I have had to give away one family member to another, but I’ve found another at long last. Surely a small disturbance, already calmed, is worth that!” He stepped forward, and Bruthir half-expected Maglor to bolt, but he looked up with cautious hope instead.

“Elrond - “

Elrond was close enough to touch now. He held out a hand in entreaty. “Come back to the celebration with me,” he said. “Please. Arwen would surely like to hear your songs for herself, and Aragorn too. There’s no one here who will cause any trouble over it.”

Maglor hesitated.

It seemed another push might be needed. Presumably that was why his mouth opened and said, without quite obtaining his consent, “You might as well go. I’m sure they’ll have better cake.”

That actually startled a laugh out of the Feanorian. “If you wish it then, Elrond,” he said quietly, clasping the outstretched hand.

Elrond’s answering smile was brilliant, and it turned grateful when he looked over to Bruthir. “You must come too, of course,” he said. “I really am quite interested in your research.”

Why not, Bruthir though blankly, his day had certainly been strange enough for it.

It would certainly be more interesting than sulking.

#maglor #elrond #oc #gondor #fourth age #numenor #reunion #accidentally talking about legends to their faces #fic #tolkien #silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings

163 notes · View notes

some-cookie-crumbz · 5 years

Note

I really love the Kidge Child HCs, I honestly can't get enough of them! Do you have any Grandma Krolia headcanons? Or headcanons for the rest of the Paladins?

REMEMBER HOW I JUST SAID THIS WAS COMING SOON?? IT’S FINALLY HERE, EVERYBODY!!!!!

First, for those who may not have seen my other posts, here are the links to all my other Headcanon posts.

Kidge Married Pre-Babies: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.1: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.2: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.3: [here] *There’s a little angst in this one, FYI

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.4: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.5: [here]

I’m gonna go the full monty with thisone; we’re taking about the kids with Krolia, Sam, Colleen, Matt, the Paladins(and any/all of their children), and all the other peripheral people involvedwith them! This is gonna be a little bit of a longer one, as such, but I wantto be as thorough as possible!

Also, mentioning this here, but there will also be mentionsof Shatt (I have two sets of headcanons for Shiro and Matt, both as a coupleand in relationships with other people, but don’t want to have to write downboth alternatives), Hunay, and Allurance, as well as me talking a little bitabout their respective families, so be aware.

The order will be as such; Krolia, Sam and Colleen, Matt andShiro, Hunk and Shay, Lance and Allura, Coran, Romelle, Kolivan and Slav.

Krolia

As I know I’ve mentioned in my previous parts, the kidsrefer to Krolia as “Nana Olia”. Amber was the one who started it – obvious, asshe’s the oldest – because, when trying to say Krolia’s name, she couldn’t getthe “Kuh” sound right, gave up, and opted into the part of her name that shecould pronounce. The other kids follow Amber’s lead because she’s their bigsister. Krolia loves having a special name that only the kids use for her.

So, being a grandma was never something Krolia ever thoughtshe’d get the chance to be, but she absolutely loves it. Part of this is because she gets to come over and engage withthe grandbabies at an age she didn’t get to with Keith, which is bittersweet.She comes over to visit as often as she can and loves playing with the kids;specifically, she loves taking the kids to the park and going on little walkswith them. She’ll admit in private that she has a soft spot for Kaden – due tohow much he looks like Keith – but she loves each of her grandkids equally.

So, for each of the kids, Krolia goes on the harrowingsearch for more luxite mineral to get them each their own brand new blades.Amber and Kaden are the two who make the most use of theirs; Newt keeps his incase he gets himself in a hairy situation, and Aria keeps hers mounted in herroom for safe keeping.

In regards to Amber, she absolutely adores what a fiestylittle thing she is. She often remarks that Amber carries in her the fire ofthe ancients in her, remarking that she’ll certain accomplish great things inher future. Krolia is absolutely correct about this, but that’ll be somethingwe talk about in later posts. She always starts their little training sessionswith a small meditation session to help get Amber grounded, and this actuallybecomes something that Amber implements in her every day; especially onstressful days. Krolia enjoys teaching her how to properly use her luxite bladeand teaching her about what, exactly, being a successful Blade member entails.

She never admits that Amber wouldn’t be the best atespionage due to how short-tempered she is, but she still loves how enthralledAmber gets to hear her stories.

Kaden breaks her heart in some of the harder ways during hisinfant and toddler years, simply because watching him interact with the worldis a physical mirror to what it looked like with Keith at that age, and shemissed out on all of that. She admits this to Keith and Pidge, who both trytheir best to help comfort her. As Kaden gets older, he becomes equallyinterested in the lessons she does with Amber, so she starts training both ofthem. He’s also a bit more interested in their Galran heritage and the historyof the Blade; including how long their Galran family had been involved and ifthere were any relatives of notoriety. This leaves her absolutely thrilled andshe’ll often tell him about their long family-lineage of involvement.

Kaden actually writes a history paper discussing his great,great, great, great grandfather, Tulore, for class. He got a perfect mark andgave it to Krolia to keep when it was returned.

Her relationship with Newt is a bit strange at first butdevelops much better as he gets older. At first, Krolia sees him as a littlehellion since he’s almost always a shrieking little grouch, and is very meekabout engaging with him. Due to what occurred when he was born and his infantilepersonality, she thinks this means that he’s much more delicate than hissiblings were, and she worries a lot about hurting him. Once he starts to getolder and his tears transform into tricks, she sees how clever he is and findsit entertaining. Something about a child constantly outwitting his parents andsiblings is entertaining.

She’ll occasionally bring him materials from other planetsto help improve his pranks; taking the time to explain how he safely use it, ofcourse.

Aria is a bit of an odd duck when it comes to Krolia,specifically because of how drastically different she is from her siblings. Herbeing such a delicate little thing makes Krolia hyper-aware of how she is withher, but the fact that she’s the clingiest, most affectionate of her siblings?Oh, Krolia loves nothing more than getting to snuggle up with her littlegrandbabies. Additionally, small footnote, but Aria and Krolia share a distainfor the snow. Krolia lived her years on Earth in the desert and she tends toprefer warmer climates in general. During the wintery season, she’ll oftenhunker down in the house with Aria is the other kids want to go play in thesnow, sipping cocoa and playing with her inside.

She teaches Aria a lot of old Galran lullabies, as well asactually teaching her their language, too.

Sam and Colleen

For the Holts, the kids call them “Nanny” and “Pappy”.Sometimes they’ll use their names as well, but since they have different titlesfor their grandparents, it’s not always needed. When they do add the names,they’re “Nanny Collie” and “Pappy Sammy”.

Being grandparents was something Colleen and Samuel had beenhyped for the minute their kids got into serious committed relationships. They’rerespectful and understanding to the situation, of course, but there’s a secretbetting pool between them on which of their kids will yield grandkids first.Colleen loses because she bets on Matt and Shiro, banking on the fact she knewthe two of them had been having more active conversations about it than shethought Pidge and Keith were. Samuel banked on it being Pidge and Keith morebecause he’d noticed the subtle things; Pidge looking at baby clothes whenparoozing the mall, Keith making the throw-away comment about what kind ofthemes he think would be cute for a nursery, etc.

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but Colleen knits littlebaby blankets for all the little Kidgelings, using colors that arerepresentative of the respective season they were born in. Samuel also does alittle crafty thing for them; he makes little ceramic ornaments of the kidsfeet when each of them after they’re born.

So, Amber is probably just a little bit closer to Colleenthan Samuel, but it’s a very slim margin. As I’ve mentioned, she tends to helpKeith with tending to their garden and yard at home. When she goes over tovisit with the Holt’s, she loves seeing what latest new flower or vegetableNanny has introduced to her garden. During the summer, Amber will also drop inunannounced to help Colleen take care of pulling weeds and such, since sheknows it can be hard for her.

With Samuel, Amber explores an interest in space travel andwhat, exactly, that entails. Pidge and Keith will tell the kids stories abouttheir time as Paladins, but they don’t talk about the really difficult andfrightening missions, and they don’t necessarily encourage the kids to followin their footsteps. As she gets older, Amber is a bit more aware of herparents’ apprehension, so most of her interest is only ever explored underPappy’s watchful eye. He tells her about the things he’s seen, the ships he’spiloted and helped to build, and occasionally sneaks her onto the Garrison baseto fly simulators. Samuel keeps this all secret from Pidge and Keith, though,because he thinks they’d be terrified at just how skilled their daughter is.Amber never outright asks him to keep this under wraps, but she appreciatesthat he does.

Kaden’s naturally reserved demeanor leads him towards morequiet hobbies, but also ones that are a bit more hands-on. Much like withKeith, Kaden bonds with Samuel about making models, but with Samuel it’s moreclassic vehicle models such as old trains or boats. They’ll typically sit withsome soft music playing in the background, but as Kaden gets older they’lloccasionally have more conversations about whatever’s going on in their livesat the time. It’s mostly just pre-teen angst and post-retirement gossip, butit’s nice and Kaden enjoys it.

As for Colleen, she bonds with him over painting, actually!Kaden’s not very good at drawing with a pen or pencil, but he’s pretty good atdoing landscapes with paint. I like the idea that Colleen was a hobbyist whoused painting as a form of stress relief, and she ends up passing this on toKaden. She’ll show him all the little tips and tricks she’s figured out for herown, and he’s always happy to take her advice. Colleen likes to hang some ofher favorites of his paintings in her office at work and, upon retiring, shekeeps them hanging in the guest room of the house. It always makes Kaden superembarrassed but also super flattered by it.

So, Newt’s cheeky and mischievous nature make him prettygood at things that require a high level of trickery; this includes poker,which he’s taught by his Nanny. Colleen actually tries out a couple ofdifferent card games with him – War, Uno, Spoons,etc. – but poker ends up being the one that Newt enjoys the most. The kid justloves getting to be a sneaky little shit, and he’s incredibly skilled with hispoker face. Colleen takes him with her sometimes for her weekly poker gameswith her friends and he usually makes a killing in hard, caramel candies.

With Samuel, he enjoys playing more tactical, contemplativegames, such as Risk and Clue. Newt has inherited Pidge’sinquisitive nature, but also ends up developing a huge fascination withmysteries and scandals and such. He likes the idea of breaking down lies anddeceit used for malicious intentions, inheriting his Dad’s sense of morality.He may be a little shit who likes to prank and tease his family, but he’s alittle shit for Great Justice™. One time, for the fun of it, Samuel hide aplaque he received upon his retirement and pretended it got stolen for Newt toinvestigate. During his investigation, Newt uncovered that one of the Holt’sneighbor’s was involved in helping with human trafficking.

So, since Aria’s the family oddball, she ends up with someodd interests that she shares with her grandparents, too. With Sam, they bondover researching old, classic amusement park rides and innovations,interestingly enough. While Aria isn’t a big fan of mechanics or engineering,she finds the lore and developments of entertainment technology to beabsolutely fantasy, and I headcanon that Samuel was a total theme park fan boyin his younger years. They’ll watch videos and documentaries, and one time theyactually broke into an abandoned amusement park to take pictures and videos ofhow far dilapidated the place got.

With Colleen, they learn how to make special effects propstogether. One of the little troops Ari attends for her performances is short onstage hands, so Colleen volunteers to help, and sometimes the cast have to helptoo. Part of this requires masks and other such things, but because the Holt’srun under the mantra of “Go Big or Go Home”, they become super invested in thequality of their work. They watch tutorials, take classes, watch tons of Face Off on Sci-Fi, and, of course, learnfrom some level of trial and error. Ari’s group put on Beauty and the Beast once and they actually had to remake theBeast’s face piece because the mask was deemed too realistic and terrifying forthe grade schoolers that would be coming to see it. During Halloween, Ari andColleen also end up creating the scariest haunted house in the town with howrealistic they make the make-up look. Especially zombie-with-head-axe Amber,who is surprisingly dedicated to her role.

Shiro and Matt

Mkay, so, I’m not going to get into all my Shatt headcanonshere, but I will give a brief overview of their family and their relationshipswith the Kidgelings. So, I headcanon that Shiro and Matt have three kids; a setof twins – one boy and one girl – and a second daughter; names are Akihiko,Auryon and Hikari respectively. The twins are born in the gap between Amber andKaden, placing them about a year and a half younger than Amber and a year or soolder than Kaden, while Hikari is born the same year as Newt, but at the tailend of the year. The children are biologically Shiro and Matt’s, born throughwhatever means is most comfortable to the viewer. I’m sure Altean tech could beadvanced enough to allow this sort of thing, or one of them could be trans. Ipersonally love Trans!Character headcanons but that’s just me.

So anyway! We’ll start with Shiro, then Matt, and then I’lldo small notes about the relationship between the cousins.

I mentioned this in my last post and said I’d elaboratehere, so here we go! Amber talks with Shiro a lot about sexuality and thestruggles that come with it. Keith and Pidge are completely supportive of theirdaughter, and she’s fine talking with them, but sometimes she likes getting totalk to Shiro about it. I’ve always headcanoned that Shiro is someone who isincredibly comfortable in his own skin and simply saw his sexuality as oneother part that made him who he was, and never shied away from that. It’s thatconfidence in himself that makes him so easy to talk to for Amber.Additionally, Shiro being a bit more of a modest and well-spoken sort – whereUncle Matt is a bombastic disaster – makes him a bit easier to talk to aboutwhat’s going on in her head. They tend to gossip all the time and Shiro, who isattentive to those he cares about, always remembers the stories about herclassmates and crushes that she shares with him. Aside from those talks, Shiroalso bonds with her over helping her a bit with her classical literaturereadings for school, because she finds the classics dull but I think Shirowould really respect those pieces himself. He mostly just helps her by lettingher bounce thoughts off of him and give her some additionally insight to thedifferent ways the pieces art interpreted.

Keith appreciates the help, since sometimes Amber can be abit stubborn and ill-tempered when she struggles with her homework, and Shiro’sa bit more patient.

As for Kaden, Shiro helps him a lot with his training forthe teams he joins and doing workouts. Once the kids are a bit older andindependent, Keith is able to pick his workout schedule back up and Shiro tendsto go along with him. As Kaden starts getting interested in sports and, byproxy, starts taking how well he maintains his physical health more seriously,he starts asking questions about it. Keith knows a decent amount, but admitsthat most of what he knows is from Shiro helping him out, which causes him togo ask Uncle Shiro his questions. From there, Shiro offers to help Kaden figureout his schedule to help keep him in peak form for his teams and such. Sometimesthey’ll work out all three of them, but more times than not it’s just Shiro andKaden, since Keith tends to get busy doing other things with the other kidswhen they’re gonna do their workouts. From the workouts, Shiro eventually endsup helping Kaden out specifically with his training for baseball. Shiro sees itas a good way to keep himself active, as well as pass along his own knowledge.Sometimes, he and Matt’s son, Akihiko, will join them, too.

This helps Aki and Kaden bond as well, but I’ll talk moreabout that later.

Newt is a bit of an anomaly when it comes to hisrelationship with Shiro. Between Uncle Shiro and Uncle Matt, he’s mostcertainly closer with Matt, but Newt very much loves his Uncle Shiro and findsa unique way to bond and help him. Much like a majority of people like to talkabout, I like the idea of Shiro benefitting from having a service animal.However, I also see Shiro as being someone who doesn’t like the idea of lettinghis weakness show; because he didn’t want his illness to hold him back when hewas younger, because he had to be in charge both with Voltron and later theAtlas, and in more recent times because he has three little babies of his ownto look after. I plan to write a fic about this, but Newt finds out aboutShiro’s situation and starts looking into what it takes to train a dog to be aproper service animal. He ends up adopting a young pup from one of theirneighbors, with Keith and Pidge agreeing, and starts working with specialiststo get the little pooch trained up to help Shiro cope with panic attacks andnight terrors he gets on a somewhat regular basis.

Shiro is absolutely floored but also incredibly touched bythe gesture. He ends up naming the little pooch Leia.

With Shiro and Aria, they bond over something a bit on theodd side. So, this was a headcanon that was inspired by a talk with my oldersister that I absolutely fell in love with. Shiro is a huge fan of theprohibition era style; speakeasies, mobster/gangster organizations, the wholeshebang is just wildly fascinating to him. Aria herself has a soft spot for theaesthetic and the Big Band sounds of the time. And, since Shiro is a big fan ofthat time period, he has a huge collection of music from the time period. The twoof them bond over it. One year, for Halloween, he actually helped her make hervery own flapper costume from scratch.

So, what about good ole’ Uncle Matt?

Matt and Amber bond over space travel, much like she doeswith Sam but on a drastically different note. He talks a lot with her about theworlds he got to visit with the Rebels and what all he learned. He teaches hera lot about different cultures and customs, different strategic approaches theytake and the like, as well as how to read the stars in some of the othergalaxies he’s traversed to. He and Keith have a few serious conversations aboutit, as Keith is highly uncomfortable with his kids taking an interest in spaceexploration, but Matt continues to do it anyway. After the fifth or sixthconversation, he just gets better at lying about it.

As for Matt and Kaden, they bond over medical training andmedical shows. As I mentioned before, Kaden becomes fascinated by the work ofEMTs and medical professionals after he breaks his arm. Matt, through both the Garrisonand the Rebellion, has a pretty decent wealth of knowledge on the subject. Heteaches Kaden how to do CPR properly, how to make a short-term splint forbroken bones, and other such things. In regards to programs, they watch tons ofHouse, Untold Stories of the ER and Scrubs.With the drama shows, they mostly just make fun of how ludicrous it is, whilefocusing on the diagnostics. With the reality-based shows, they enjoy seeinghow the case develops and the ultimate outcome. Sometimes Auryon will jointhem, just to have something to do, but that’s incredibly infrequent.

Newt and Matt go together like peanut butter and chocolate,to say the least, and they have the most shared interests. The big one theyshare on, though, is a love for all things Star Wars and Star Trek themed; theshows, the comics, even a couple of podcasts that talk about the lore of eachrespective series in depth. Newt likes Star Trek a bit more than Star Wars –and he really likes Captain Picard – while Matt is the opposite – with a hugeaffinity for Han Solo – and they like to tease one another good-naturedly aboutit pretty often. Other than that, Matt is his biggest helper when preparingLeia to be a proper service dog for Shiro when he gets the idea and is the oneto first suggest it to Keith and Pidge.

Lastly, Uncle Matt and Aria bond about her cheerleading,interestingly enough. I like the idea that Matt, despite being a bit of stringbean, was on the cheer team in his high school years. Back then, he wasn’t verygood at helping with the flyer stunts, but as an adult who has lived throughfighting with a rebellion and being a Dad to three kids? He can most certainlylift up his petite little niece to practice her flyer routine. Aki joins thecheerleading squad as well, so he’ll help out sometimes, too. Additionally,Matt played the violin, so sometimes they’ll do duets together. They typicallypick pieces where the cello takes the lead, as he hasn’t really kept up withplaying over the years, but also because it’s good practice for her.

Now, as for how they bond with their cousins, the dynamicsare interesting, to say the least.

Aki gets along well with Kaden and Aria the best, gets alongdecently well with Newt, but actually butts heads a lot with Amber. Aki’s alittle bit of a rebel and tends to get himself into a lot of trouble, whichAmber often times tries to dissuade him away from. And, if he doesn’t listen,she tends to be the one to narc on him. As they get older, she’ll typically goalong and have Hikari, his sister, record his stupid stunts and show them offlater. Many times, she’ll end up using it as either blackmail or showing it tohis parents without showing it to him first. Her favorite was the time when hewent to a party, got drunk underage, and face-planted doing a keg stand. Asmentioned before, he bonds with Kaden and Ari over baseball and cheerleading,respectively. He’s a bit more of a physical activities kind of kid, with apassion for those kinds of things visible since he’s young. With Newt, they don’thave a whole lot in common, but Aki still looks after him because he’s hiscousin and is also a smol. Newt also occasionally helps him with his mathhomework, since he struggles a bit with his academics.

As for Auryon, she gets along pretty well with all of themequally. With Amber, they bond a lot over the ideas of space travel. WhileAuryon herself isn’t particularly interested in engaging with travelling, shedoes find the way the now-unified galaxy operates, and how the unification effectseach different planet within the Coalition, which leads to some interestingconversations between them. Auryon and Kaden bond over, interestingly enough,martial arts and hand-to-hand combat training. She admires Amber’s eagerness tofight to protect her friends so she decides she wants to learn as well. Sinceshe and Kaden are a bit closer in age, he tends to be her sparring partner moretimes than not. With Newt, they share a passion for animals. Auryon actually hastwo ferrets – named Boo and Radley – that she loves to pieces and Newt happilyjoins her with playing with them and has even helped her with cleaning up theircages every now and again. With Ari, they actually bond over learning foreignlanguages. Specifically, they both learn Italian together, but Auryon alsolearns how to speak Japanese. Sometimes, she’ll translate songs from Japaneseto English for Ari to do covers of for her YouTube channel.

Hikari, as opposed to her brother and sister, is an artistictype with a decent relationship with all her cousins. She and Amber have thebiggest rift between them, due to the moderate age gap, but they enjoy makingher brother miserable. Like most little sister’s, Kari lives for teasing her brother. So, when Amber offers her theperfect chances to do that? She’ll be there with a camcorder in a heartbeat. With Kaden, she recordshe and Auryon’s sparring sessions to use as reference for some of heranimations. Additionally, Kaden enjoys just talking with her about his lovelife. I won’t go into too much about it here, but she offers him significantlymore practical advice than his other source of information coughAlforcough. WithNewt, he’s pretty good for sound boarding her ideas off of. While he’s workingon this or that, or training the dogs, she’ll settle in and just kind oframble. If he thinks something is dumb or needs more thought, he’ll say asmuch, which she appreciates. She and Ari bond over the aforementioned YouTubechannel. She helps record and edit together the music videos that Arioccasionally makes for the songs that she performs, as well as handling thedirectorial responsibilities. She loves getting to have the experience andreally enjoys how she and the rest of their little group work together.

Hunk and Shay

Much like with Shiro and Matt, just a quick rundown of theGarrett family! Hunk and Shay had two children together; one son named Richterand one daughter named Morganite. Richter is a few months younger than Amberand Morganite is a few months younger than Newt. The reason for the huge agegap between to the two siblings is due to another headcanon of mine, in whichthe less similar two alien races are, the more difficult it is to reproducesuccessfully. Galra, Altean and humans are all somewhat similar in geneticmake-up, so it’s easier for them to conceive, but since Balmerans can bedrastically different based upon their environment. Due to this, while it’sclearly capable, it is a bit of a struggle. They’d been trying long before anyof the others to conceive Richter, and are delighted when he’s born. They weren’tactually trying to conceive Morganite and view her as a happy accident.

So, let’s talk about Uncle Hunk for a moment or two!

In regards to Amber, Hunk is actually appreciative of whatan abrasive personality she is. He knows that Richter tends to be on the morereserved side, which makes him an easy target for bullies, but she’s alwaysthere to protect him. As a sort of repayment for how good of a friend she is tohis son, he tries to help teach her how to cook and bake. Kaden ends up joiningin the little lessons, too, simply out of interest to learn how so he can helpout more at home. Amber’s downright awful at anything culinary-themed, but withHunk’s help she ends up getting decent. She can’t do anything particularlyfancy or extravagant, but she can make meals without burning down the kitchenand those meals taste well enough to not leave her paying homage to the porcelainGods.

Kaden actually ends up being a lot better than Amber, aswell as being a bit better at baking than cooking. He can make some of the mostbeautiful multiple-layer cakes out there. When the extra-curricular activitieshe participates in do fundraising bake sales, he always volunteers to help makeproduct for sale. A lot of the time, Hunk will help him as well. They alwaysend up making asinine amounts of baked goods, but they also end up selling allof it, so it never goes to waste.

With Hunk and Newt, he gets to work with him on his roboticsprojects and such. Newt and Morganite end up joining the robotics club andalways work together on the projects they’re completing. Team Punk often getsback together to help the pair out. Hunk takes the time to really explain thenecessary components to create an engine that’ll allow the robot to do whatthey intended purpose is, as well as occasionally smuggling themGarrison-issued supplies that they probably shouldn’t have access to. Do thejudges at the competition need to know that? Absolutely not. And Hunk wouldn’t breathea word of it, even if he was asked.

So, we all know that Hunk is ultimately the beacon of peaceand unity that the universe truly deserves. As Ari gets older, she seeks Hunkout for advice and suggestions on better ways to approach conflict-resolution.This is due to how some of her friends – outside of the other Palababus – like totalk smack instead of just dealing with disagreements in a more civil approach.While Ari can certainly understand that sometimes being a little petty can helppeople get over things, when the problems start causing rifts and involvingmore members of their group, she feels the need to intervene. Hunk, who wasalways the Voice of Reason on Team Voltron, he can sympathize with her. Whilehe didn’t have to deal with too much of that, he knows how it can be whenothers are using little things as an excuse to be mad and cause furthertrouble.

I see Shay as being a very affectionate and doting mother,and that extends to all the children of their friends as well. I really lovethe idea that Shay, Allura and Romelle get super invested in trashy daytime televisionprograms like Maury and Jerry Springer and such. There’s even spaceversions where different alien species go on and the trio love to watch andcommentate. The Allurance kids find the shows the most interesting, thoughthere is a level of entertainment in it for Morganite, Newt and Ari as well. Richter,Amber and Kaden tend to spend more time with her learning about the legends ofthe Balmera of crystals and how to distinguish which types of crystal are goodfor what purposes.

Richter gets along best with Amber and Kaden, and sees Kadenas a pseudo-little brother. The three of them grow up running in the samecircle and, even as they get older, remain close. When Amber’s still reallyyoung and bad at controlling her temper, Richter’s the best at getting her tocalm down. He’s also the one who deals with the petty squabbles between she andAlfor the most often. When the kids play pretend, they take it very seriously.Richter’s really good at constructing stuff out of cardboard and buildingblocks, so when they have tons of play-props that he and Kaden have built and coloredtogether.

Last note, he’s a pretty big boy who certain could defend himself, but he’s just agentle giant. There’s something really cute and funny about this really big,sweet guy being protected by these smol little firecrackers.

Now, Morganite is closer with Newt and Aria; especially sowith Newt. As I’ve mentioned, Newt’s a bit stand-offish with other people, butshe sees beyond all that to what a sweetheart he actually is. At one point, he thinksthat she’s only his friend because their parents are friends, but he realizesthat she genuinely does like him. This allows their friendship to develop evenfurther and the two of them to actually focus on the many things they have incommon. Consider them to be Team Punk Version 2.0. Lastly, I mentioned this inmy last headcanon post, but Morganite is really talented at making jewelry andother accessories. She teaches Ari how to make them, as well as helping herfigure out which accessories are best for this or that situation.

Lance and Allura

Let’s get the little notes about the McClain-Altean Heirs outof the way first! Lance and Allura end up having five kids; Alfor, Raya,Coriander, Paige and Anthony. Alfor and Raya are each a few months younger thanAmber and Kaden respectively, Coriander and Paige are a few months older thanNewt and Aria respectively, and Anthony is about two years younger than Aria. Ioriginally planned for them to have six kids, but decided to cut Anthony’s twinbrother, Ben, from the equation simply due to the fact it felt like too manykids. Additionally, since I started this before season 8 dropped, this isn’tnecessarily compliant with that; though, admittedly, it could easily just be aslight deviation where Allura saves the universe without having to sacrificeherself. But I think that we’re all mostly in agreement that that who spiel wasa little lacking, yeah?

Anyway, let’s get in to it!

I can’t talk about Lance and Amber’s relationship nearly asmuch as I want to. Initially, while Lance doesn’t hate her, he does get a bitmiffed by how she and Alfor always seem to be at odds with one another. As thekids get older, though, Lance starts to see a bit of his own struggles in Amberand becomes a pretty good source of reassurance for her. Amber clearly wants tobe someone who does great things for others, like her parents, but is unsure ifshe’ll ever have her chance to. She also worries that her abrasive personalitywould prevent her from being a very good source of comfort, even if she did getinvolved in any kind of work like that. Lance is able to help reassure herthat, so long as she’s willing to work hard and dedicate herself, she’ll beable to accomplish her goals.

Kaden goes in a bit of different direction than his sister;Kaden’s leaning towards being reserved but typically pretty polite, Lance hasno problem with him. He isn’t as aggressive as Amber can be in his issues withAlfor or Raya, and even when they do, the most that ever happens in the way ofphysicality is knocked over drinks or water fights. In regards to bonding,Lance actually offers him little tips and tricks to help him with his drivingduring his soap box races. I like the idea that Lance liked go-cart racing inhis youth so he knows a little bit about how to maneuver a smaller vehicle.Keith greatly appreciates this, as his own experiences prior to meeting Shiroand attending the Garrison is limited.

Lance actually teaches Newt a lot about farm animals. It’skind of implied by how Lance knew how to deal with Kaltenecker, and is apopular headcanon that I’m fond of, but I like the idea that he came from afamily in which his mother was a successful business owner and his father rantheir successful farm. As such, growing up, Lance had a lot of first-handexperience with the ins and outs of how to care for barnyard animals. Newtlatches on to him so he can learn all that he can about cows, horses, chickens,goats, and any other animals. While Lance doesn’t actively work on the farm anymore – what with now being one of the ruling monarchs of New Altea/ living alife as a Garrison recruiter on Earth – he has a lot of fond memories of hisexperiences caring for animals, as well as finding Newt’s passion to beendearing. He specifically regales him with the tales of his favorite animalthey ever owned, a goat named Hoppie, who would scream at you when he wanted atreat and had a bad habit of hopping fences; including a hilarious time hejumped into the pig’s pen and got coated in mud.

As for Ari, he probably likes her the best, simply becauseshe tends to be around the most due to her friendship with his daughters. Whenthey have sleepovers, he’ll often be brought in to help with braiding hair,doing facials, painting nails, etc. He also occasionally helps out with thechoreography, costuming and music for Ari’s YouTube videos; specifically, withthe music, he’ll help with the balancing of the audio and occasionally offerback-up vocals. We’ve already seen how well Lance can… Put on a show, to put itlightly, so he’s got a lot of creative ideas to help Ari catch attention. Pidgeis the one who tends to step in and rein him in if she thinks his ideas aregetting a little too salacious.

Now, what about our favorite Altean royal?

Allura gets along with Amber a bit better that Lance does,simply by virtue of seeing that her son needs someone to call him out. Sheloves her son to pieces – he is her first born and her baby in general – but sheacknowledges that he has inherited his father’s ego from their youth, whichmeans he needs to occasionally be reminded that he isn’t the greatest thingever. She doesn’t always agree with how she goes about it, and is happy tovoice her opinion, but also finds Amber’s interest and skill with fighting tobe admirable. She helps to teach her some Altean combat moves, along with herteaching them to her own kids as well, and admires what a quick study she is.

Now, her and Kaden actually bond over something kind ofinteresting; superhero comic books. Of all the Earth literature that she checksout, I think that Allura would find comics to be incredibly interesting. Thestories, the characters, the situations that cause them to gain their powers,all of it just kind of amuses her; both the campy stuff and the more seriousstuff. This hobby of hers is one that she ends up getting to spend a lot oftime bonding with Anthony, she and Lance’s youngest son, as well as Kaden.Kaden’s favorite characters end up being Spiderman, because he’s super smartbut super snarky, and Captain America, because he’s so moral. Allura’sfavorites are Thor – which is shared between she and Anthony – and Storm. Oneyear for Halloween, actually, the three of them all dressed up as their faveswhen they went trick-or-treating.

Newt, being intelligent and having some interests similar tohis Mama, talks with Allura a lot about how, exactly, she developed Shiro’sprosthetic, as well as how the Castle Ship worked. He also talks with Coranabout this, but he likes to talk with Allura about it a bit more since she wasthe one who made the ship able to jump through wormholes. He’s absolutelyfascinated by the idea of technology and magic being melded together to theextent that it was with the Alteans. Due to his lack of Altean heritage, he can’tdo anything involving alchemy, but he still finds the practice to be absolutelyfascinating and loves listening to Allura talk about everything she’s learnedfor hours on end. Additionally, Alfor is the only one of the Allurance babiesthat inherits any Altean alchemic ability, so Newt will often sit in whenAllura’s working with him just to see how, exactly, it’s done.

Much as I mentioned before, Ari in the Kidgeling thatprobably spends the most time around the Allurance babies because she gets alongso well with the girls. Much like with Lance, she’ll join in for slumberparties, but she also likes to take the girls out for mani-pedis. Pidge enjoysoccasionally going out for pampering, but she’s not nearly as big into thatstuff as Aria is, and Allura is always more than happy to bring Aria along.Pidge is grateful because she wants Ari to be able to enjoy herself in herinterests. This is also good for Allura, as she sees her friends and their kidsas her family, and loves getting to spend time with all of them. Allura is alsothe one that takes the girls clothes shopping at the start of each new schoolyear, since Pidge loathes having togo shopping.

Alfor and Amber’s relationship is completely complicated.They absolutely love each other and will shank someone for bad-mouthing them,but they’d also happily roast each other until they’re a well-barbequed chickenthigh. As kids, they constantly bicker and butt heads because they’re bothincredibly stubborn and have huge egos, but as they get older and become moretempered, they’re more like caddy frenemies. There is a point where theirfriendship almost implodes on itself, but that’s something I intend to touch upon my final headcanon post coming out soon. Alfor gets along pretty well withKaden and Newt, as well. With Kaden, he takes on an older brother role andoften tries to help give him love advice, because he considers himself to be areal Casanova like his Daddy even though he’s never asked out Akihiko,who he has a HUGE crush on. With Newt, he actually really likes how hesits and watches his alchemy training. Newt will take notes and, through thesenotes, Alfor can often figure out what he was getting wrong when he’sstruggling. Alfor likes Ari, but he sees her more as his sister’s friend, so hedoesn’t really hang out with her much.

Raya is the Queen Bee of the little Girl Gang that is formedby the Palababus. While she and Amber don’t really spend a lot of time hangingout in their youth, there’s a sense of mutual respect for one another, and theydo become closer as they get older and get to know one another better. In theiryounger years, she always tries to include Amber in their activities, butnormally the older girl isn’t too terribly interested. Raya and Kaden havedrastically different interests and tend to not get along at all – due to Rayahaving a “little princess” personality and Kaden finding this annoying – thoughthey do grow to admire one another and become significantly closer during theirlate teens, as mentioned before. She and Newt don’t really talk much; shethinks he’s kind of weird and he thinks she’s a spoiled brat. Aria is theKidgeling she gets along with the best and, as I’ve mentioned before, looksafter her just as much as she does her own sisters. She helps Aria with herYouTube music videos, as well as helping her work on her cheerleading routinesand preparing for try-outs.

Coriander, much like her older sister, isn’t very close toAmber but has some respect for the older girl; though, admittedly, she thinksAmber can go a little overboard when she sticks her nose into a fight. It mightbe a little bit of a crush, but she never acts or speaks of it to anyone, andit fades relatively quickly. She also respects Kaden a lot, given hisreputation of being the Bullier of the Bullies, but is also a bit intimidatedby him. Due to her own tendency towards being a sociable and outgoing character,she finds Kaden’s quiet personality to be a bit unnerving. With Newt, she goes tohim and Morganite for some help with her academics, as she struggles a bit withscience and geography classes. Lastly, as I know I’ve mentioned multiple timesnow, but Ari gets along best with the Allurance girls. Since Cori is such asocial, outgoing girl who likes the spotlight, she ends up becoming a hugetheater kid. She’s not the best at musicals but she loves getting to do regularshows, and Ari always helps her with her lines. In return, when they domusicals, she helps push Ari to audition, as well as practice her songs/ linesonce she gets cast.

So now we get to the youngest little lady, Paige! Unlike hersiblings, she lacks the outgoing personality. She’s really sweet and friendlywith her friends, sure, and she gets along well enough with others, but she isn’tquite as interested in expanding her social circle like they are. She’s notreally passionate about it, but she does join the swim and volleyball. Herinterest in volleyball isn’t particularly big – most just doing it because sheknows how helpful extracurriculars are for college applications and such – but Amberstill helps her get ready for the team tryouts. She’s grateful for this,especially since Amber doesn’t once chide her for signing up for something justby virtue of being signed up for something. Paige is ambivalent to both theboys, though she does think that Newt’s fascination with Altean alchemy isweird. She really enjoys writing poems and actually goes to Kaden for hisopinion, since he’s the bluntest and most straight-forward person she knows, soshe knows his criticisms will always be his honest opinion. She has a huge softspot in her for cheesy romantic comedies – even the ones with awful writing –and she’ll happily marathon them with Ari. Sometimes the two of them just enjoygetting settled in nice and comfy and having themselves a squeal-fest.

Last, but certainly not least, is little Anthony! Anthony isan absolute Momma’s boy who talks a big game but will back down pretty quickwhen he knows he’s about to get smacked down. Due to how much younger than theother kids he is, he doesn’t really know Amber and Kaden all that well; mostlyjust knows what the kids say about them. At one point, after finding out he’sbeen dealing with some jerks at school, Amber outright tells him to just useher and Kaden as a threat to any potential bullies, and he actually does and itseems like enough to dissuade them from pestering him too much more. He ends upactually joining the local scout’s troop and goes to Newt for helpful tips onwhat to expect from the wildlife they encounter. Through this, he grows toreally admire how much care and effort Newt puts into learning about the thingshe’s interested in, and decides to do the same. He gets really passionate aboutdoing little magic tricks and slight-of-hand things. Aria ends up agreeing tobe his partner when he participates in shows and charity events and such. Also,instead of pulling a rabbit from his hat, Auryon will occasionally let himborrow Boo and Radley and he pulls them from the hat.

Coran

Now, I see Coran as being significantly more invested in theAllurance babies, simply by virtue of him Palababus, too. These last few willprobably be a bit on the short side, but I hope it’ll still be good!

Coran loves getting to tell the children about everything hedid and saw throughout his many years of travel. He’ll often regale them with thetales of shenanigans that their parents, as well as the OG Team Voltron, got upto. Does he occasionally embellish the stories to make their parents seem alittle more imposing? Maybe. But the kids don’t even care and the parent’s coughLancecoughappreciate being seen as total badasses by their kids. Additionally, he teachesthem how to do all the strange, alien-animal calls that he knows just for thefun of it. None of the parents thank him for this; especially not Pidge andKeith, who end up getting the worst of it because of how much Newt loves making the strange noises.

Additionally, he ends up hitting it off particularly wellwith two of the Palababus through offering them more insights in to Voltron andhow the Lions work, but, again… Subject for later! ;3c

Romelle

She ends up becoming super in to video games and Eaeth boardgames; specifically I think she’d be really in to Sorry!, Monopoly and anyRPG games she can get her hands on. Her being into games makes her a favoritewith Kaden and Newt, who loves having little gaming tournaments. She’s kickedtheir tales at literally every game they have but they still enjoy getting toplay with her. She also loves teaching them the different games they playedback on the colony when she was a child. She teaches Amber some meditationtechniques to help her calm down and help rein in some of her violenttendencies. She also teaches Aria how to play some Altean instruments,including a strange tuba-accordian hybrid.

Additionally, she tells them cautionary tales about her lifeback on the colony and lies they believed about Lotor. The kids are aware thatLotor was a bad guy, but they don’t know the extent of it. She saves thosestories until they’re a little older, just to avoid causing them nightmares,but they take what she says to heart.

Kolivan

So, I have a lot of headcanons about Kolivan that I won’t begoing into great detail about right now, but I will state I think he has atleast one child of his own, but they have an estranged relationship. Betweenthis and how close he is with Keith and Krolia, when he opts to retire fromactive Blade assignments, he ends up settling on Earth and taking up Grandpa Privilegeswith the Kidgelings.

Much like with Krolia, he helps teach Amber and Kaden aboutself-defense techniques and other such things. He decides pretty early on thathe likes how the two contrast but complement one another, what with Amber beingan enthusiastic little spitfire and Kaden being a sneaky little tactician. Theymake for a good team and he can see that the two of them have greatness laidbefore them. With Newt, he really enjoys listening to him go on his ramblesabout the tech he’s working on; specifically, he likes when he goes on hisrambles about the prosthetic limbs he wants to develop for humans and animalswith missing limbs. He thinks it’s really cute how this snarky little bratactually has a very soft and compassionate heart underneath it all. With Aria,he really loves letting her play with his hair. Since it’s so long, she’ll sitfor hours and comb it out and then restyle it. Sometimes she does simplebraids, or twists it into a bun, or even busts out her curling iron and leaveshim with a cluster of bouncy silver curls. Sometimes they’ll talk while shedoes, and other times she’ll just put on music and they’ll let the quiet musicfill in the peaceful space.

Slav

Slav is literally only here for one hilarious footnote.

One week, for show-and-tell, Aria actually smuggled Slav toschool with her. At lunch, she swapped candies and lunch tray desserts forreadings of their possible futures from the alien genius. This led to a bunchof the children going in to complete panic and the school hadto call in Pidgeand Keith.

They’re both impressed with the fact their daughter managedto sneak Slav to school, as well as how she managed to carry around a backpackwith him inside for the entire day.

#crumbles grumbles #Keidge #Kidge #Peith #Kidgemas #half baked headcanons #This ended up 13 pages long!#And I had wanted to talk about more interactions about the Kidgelings extended family members #*coughAcxaEzorZethridVeronicacough*#But I started this before S8 dropped and it was already getting crazy long #Maybe I'll do another post about them if there's an interest???

48 notes · View notes

jamiebluewind · 6 years

Text

I Was Touch Starved In Real Life

We've all seen fics that talk about touch starvation. Them craving touch and the insane lengths they go until eventual cuddling happens. Well I lived it and let me tell you, it's nothing like the stories I've read...

When I was a kid, sometimes my mother made me go hungry for food. Miss a meal and you get hungry. Miss two and you get real hungry. But something eventually happens after a day or two. You stop feeling hungry. Go long enough and food makes you sick to your stomach (on top of being a little out of it). Go without often enough and you will have trouble knowing when you're hungry for the rest of your life and will randomly forget to eat longer than what is healthy because you didn't remember or you didn't smell food so your body forgot to remind you. Sometimes when you do feel hungry, you don't even notice. It affects you for the rest of your life and it's about the same with touch starvation.

Most kids will hug and hold hands and are quick to touch. It's necessary for mental health, oxytocin production, and bonding. I was use to touch, especially since I stayed with my grandparents (mamaw and papaw) when I was little because our house was full (2 parents, my older brother and his new wife, and my mother's sister and her husband and no that is not normal in the US especially in a 3 bedroom!). Mamaw and I shared a bed and would cuddle up. Papaw would play cards and games. There was always a dog or a cat (usually both). I walked next door every evening to cuddle and wrestle with my dad or brush each other's hair. Lots of contact save for my mother and maternal grandparents. Even when my mother did brush my hair, she would pull, yank, and tease, so it wasn't an enjoyable experience.

Then papaw got sick (cancer and later congestive heart failure) and I had to go back to living with my parents in a single bed. The computer room was converted to a bedroom for my aunt and uncle until they moved out. When I started getting less affection, I would hug my parents randomly like in the middle of phone calls. I'd lay on my dad after work. I'd go next door to see mamaw and papaw and help out as best as I could. My body knew I needed it even when I didn't.

My dad worked more. My mother pulled me out of school, lying to my dad and family that she was homeschooling me (and the government never checked). My mother told my friends who called that I had moved. I became the babysitter for my nephew and later a second. I loved them so much. They often slept in my bed or dad's bed (as my parents had stopped sharing a bed at that point). I got most of my affection from them and mamaw.

Then my brother got on drugs after being clean for years and had a falling out with our dad. He moved out. His wife tried to stay with him, but eventually moved on and moved closer to her family (we still talk). Papaw died. Mamaw moved to town closer to her other son. Grandmother moved in my brother's room. I lost all my regular sources of affection. My dad gave me a few minutes when he got home and I was able to have my mother drive me to see mamaw a couple times a month and sometimes once a week. My mother made me stay alone a lot. I hugged mamaw a lot when I seen her and would hug my parents with permission, but became less and less likely to touch other people, especially strangers.

I'm not sure when it started happening, but suddenly, I became hyper sensitive to touch... and it hurt. Only mamaw, dad, and my nephews were exempt and even then I wasn't excessive. Animals were still safe. Just not people.

I got much better at hiding my emotions. When my aunts and uncles visited, I would hug them before they left despite it hurting. I couldn't tell them not to touch me because it caused me pain. I didn't want to hurt them. I hated shaking hands so much that people thought I had a germ thing (especially if they had never seen me with my nephews). Family reunions and crowds were hell.

The abuse, isolation, and lack of touch caused my anxiety and depression to get worse and worse. I survived because my pets needed me. By the time I got out, I was so sensitive to touch that making myself touch anybody but my dad, mamaw, and my nephews was extremely difficult. The less prepared I was, the more painful it could be. I was so sensitive that I could be blindfolded and somebody could get about 3 or 4 inches (about 7 or 10 cm) from my bare skin and I could tell you exactly where they were. People didn't believe me when I told them, so I did it on several occasions. The effects later years. I wore clothes that covered as much skin as possible to negate the effects of contact. I got sick a lot. My first gynecologist appointment was especially terrible.

I remember the day it started getting better. I was working in the library in my early 20s during my first semester of college. There were two small boys with there mom as she studied. I kept them entertained so they didn't disturb the other students. Just bright eyes and full of happy giggles and curiosity. When they looked away about to leave, I reached out slightly towards the youngest with hesitant movements, trying to psych myself up to choose to touch someone on purpose without being prompted (other than the four I could). I reached the rest of the way and ruffled his short tight curls. He looked up at me with this huge smile and waved goodbye along with his brother. The touch was over in an instant, but it didn't hurt. I think working there had helped me slowly get use to people, but that moment was the turning point. Sure touch was sometimes uncomfortable and a touch without knowing it was coming could still hurt, but it was huge for me. I could wear shirts without long sleeves or crew/turtle necks. I bought capris and shorts. I started hugging and the like.

I was still sensitive in my mid 20s even a year or two after my first serious boyfriend, but the pain didn't happen save for very rare occasions. I became very platonically affectionate a big hugger, even with strangers. Some found it mildly offputting, but at least I was respectful and always asked first.

I ended up in a bad relationship off and on for 7 years. I think a big factor in me staying was the fact he gave me the affection my body and mind craved. I convinced myself that we were in love and that he was the best I could do. Whenever we would break up, I would end up lacking again especially after I became disabled and couldn't work, losing most human contact. When he would come back and hold me close, I thought it was love I was overpowered by and the sparks between us, but it was just my body reacting after being starved for touch. It was like being given a full meal after living off scraps.

Now I'm in my 30s and it still effects me in ways. I go too long without human contact without noticing until I have it. I still hug everybody, love all the pets, and I'm always willing to help, but I can get overwhelmed. I'm simultaneously the most open person you will ever meet and the best at hiding pain of all type. Lack of touch doesn't make me nervous, but it makes the anxiety that does happen last longer and harder to get rid of. I don't feel cold without it, but it does make me feel warm in a nice way and a little calmer when someone touches me, but normally only people I care about like my dad or my best friend (who I will be moving closer to next year). Most other people feel neutral or nice, but it depends on the person or the situation. The calmness can last for a while afterwards. I don't take hot showers to replace touch, but to try and relax and lower my anxiety. I often don't notice when I need it, instead just seeing that my anxiety is noticeable or I feel more depressed than normal. Since both can also be due to a bad day, forgetting to eat, a hormone thing, or life in general, it's hard to tell if one of those days is because 'the news is especially terrifying recently' or 'I just need to guilt my dad into hugging me for a while'. Dating is hard because normal romantic touches can make my brain fall in love (not lust) far too fast. Being newly single causes me severe depression (pro tip, show the people you care about extra affection after they go through a breakup unless you want them miserable and/or rebounding with a bad person because their brain is suddenly without a chemical it desperately needs). I'm physically clingy at times.

I cope though. Sometimes wearing a scarf around my neck helps lower my anxiety some. My cat helps me. I have good friends. I go to a chiropractor every two or three weeks which also helps my migraines. It's weird and can make things harder on me at times, but I'm okay and that's what matters.

#bluewind talks #touch starved #child abuse #writing source #please be respectful #tw child abuse #tw abuse #tw neglect #tw death #tw drug abuse #tw pain #tw isolation #plesse tell me if i missed any #tw starvation

105 notes · View notes

winryofresembool · 6 years

Text

EdWin one-shot: Halloween

Summary: A few scenes showing Rockbell-Elric family’s Halloween celebration

A/N: written for @edweenweek day 7: candy (could be trick or treat as well)! Special thanks to @criis55 for the ideas and the dog’s name! <3 Please enjoy and review! Also, I guess this is an AU in which Halloween exists, but that goes without saying..

Words: 1700+

Genre: family

People stopped on their tracks on the street when they saw the Rockbell-Elric family walking past them. There were two small children in the family, a 3-year-old boy and approximately a year-old girl. They were dressed in a way that made those who knew the family believe their father had picked the costumes. The son was wearing an armor made by his mother, and the daughter was wrapped into ripped sheets like a mummy. Edward himself was sporting a vampire outfit, with a black suit, cape and fake teeth. Winry was dressed as a witch, carrying their smallest in a huge cauldron.

The son, Alan, seemed way too pleased about the fact that he had managed to get half a cauldron (thankfully, a bit smaller one than the one with her sister inside it) of candy by trick or treating. Winry had been a bit reluctant to let him do it in the first place, as he was still so young, and as a daughter of doctors and nearly a doctor herself, she knew the dangers of overeating sweets. Ed (not having all too fond memories of his own childhood Halloweens, but wanting his kids to experience better) had managed to persuade her, however. Alan had beamed of happiness when Ed told him he could dress up and trick or treat.

As Alan’s parents tried to figure out what kind of costumes they should make their children (something both were excited about even though especially Ed didn’t want to admit it), Alan was watching an old picture of his uncle from when he was just a suit of armor. Suddenly he shrieked: “I want the same kind of costume uncle Al had!”

“What costume… oh!” Ed understood when he saw where Alan had gotten his idea from. “Are you… are you sure about that?”

“Yes, dad! I want to look like him!”

Ed couldn’t help but feel upset when he was reminded of the times he rather forgot these days. Alan didn’t know Al’s story yet… and Ed wasn’t looking forward to the day when he would have to explain it to him. He hid the sadness quickly and forced a smile on his face instead: “I think we still have some leftover metal from that armor left! What would you say if your mom made you a similar looking armor?”

“Yay! Mama is the best!”

“I know, kid, she is. But don’t tell her I said that.” Ed told him.

He hadn’t noticed Winry had sneaked behind him and heard everything.

“Edward, we have two kids. You had better think I am the best or we might just as well get a divorce.”

“O-of course you are the best!” he stuttered, expecting a wrench on his head. “H-how could you not be when you have created something alchemy never could, two new lives!”

“Alan, your father is a dork. But maybe that’s why I married him,” Winry smiled at her boys fondly, ruffling Ed’s hair a bit, then scooping the smaller one into her arms. “C’mon, let’s get you measured so I can draw the blueprints for the armor.”

A day later Alan walked around in the living room wearing his armor, beaming of excitement. Ed had to admit his wife had done an amazing job, the armor looked like a miniature copy of Al’s. It even had a little hair tuft in the helmet.

“Look, daddy! I am uncle Al now!”

“You sure are,” Ed said, trying to keep his voice happy even though his throat felt a little bit dry. While Alan was looking beyond thrilled, Ed couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was staring at his worst nightmare in front of him. What if his son had to go through the same he and Al had? No, he stopped himself, he would not allow that. He would always make sure to be present in Alan’s life and make him understand how dangerous alchemy can be. If he ever got interested in that. So far he had seemed to be more into tinkering with his play tools.

“Hey, let’s take a photo of you!” Winry suggested and pulled her granny’s old camera from behind her back. “C’mon, Ed, you should be in the photo too. Please. It’d make me happy!” She tried to coax him, and to her surprise he did what she told him to do.

“Ed! At least try to look a little more excited!” Winry scolded him when he still looked reluctant with Alan on his shoulders.

“OK, say ‘equivalent exchange’ now!”

That and the fact that Alan lifted the visor of his armor and looked at his father right in the eyes, saying “dad doesn’t need an armor because he already has the coolest leg!” lifted his spirits and he gave the camera a genuine, wide smile.

The young parents regretted taking their kids trick or treating about 5 minutes after leaving their house. Emma had been cranky the entire day and seemed to find the tiny armor walking in front of her frightening. She wailed so loudly that Ed and Winry wouldn’t have been surprised if the families who they tried to visit pretended to not be home when they knocked their doors. She didn’t like the wraps around her either, thrashing around in the cauldron so angrily Winry declared she would never have another Elric baby. That made Ed pout and soon Alan was the only one who was still enjoying the trip.

Thankfully, Emma finally fell asleep once Ed took her into his arms, and after that the mood got calmer. The family saw many different kinds of households on their trip. In one place a cranky middle-aged man nearly didn’t give Alan anything because apparently his armor didn’t look ‘real’ enough. That infuriated Ed to no end because in his opinion, no one in Rush Valley could have made it better. He happened to notice the man had an automail arm, and it ‘slipped’ from him that Winry was one of the best known mechanics in the entire town, having a lots of ‘relations’ to other talented people in the industry. The man understood it meant she could make his life miserable. After that he had been busy to give Alan half a kilo of candies and Ed smiled wider than Alan as they left the house.

In another house the family met an old granny who nearly didn’t let Alan and Emma leave the house at all. Apparently she was very lonely and seeing kids coming to her door during Halloween was the highlight of her year. Ed and Winry promised they could visit with the kids more often in the future, seeing they enjoyed her company as well and the kids needed a grandparent just as much she needed them.

Finally, they got to Garfiel’s where also Paninya was spending her evening. Garfiel gave Alan almost more candy than the cranky man with the automail and Paninya seemed to get along with Emma exceptionally well, promising to teach the kids all kinds of mischief once they were a little bit bigger. Ed started yelling at her, revealing his fake teeth, and Paninya noted: “Oh, so you are a vampire? I thought you were only dressed as yourself, just look at that outfit.”

Winry had to drag her family (mostly: Ed) out of there before things escalated any further, but overall the trick or treating trip had been rather successful. Especially for Alan who had gotten enough sweets for an entire year.

Late in the Halloween evening, the Rockbell-Elric family was lighting the candles in the pumpkin lanterns they had carved earlier (Ed had been surprisingly enthusiastic and carved more skulls and dragon heads than Winry could count). Suddenly Winry realized it was weirdly quiet in the room. She had seen Alan about 5 minutes earlier, saying he would take the pumpkin he was carrying (with no candle in it) outside, but she hadn’t seen him since then. Worried that Alan would go too far in the darkness and get lost, she decided to go and look for him. When she opened their front door, she could hear the dog’s howling nearby. She went to check what was wrong and found the poor puppy the family had gotten only a few months earlier from Brigadier General Mustang with a pumpkin in his head. Somehow, he had gotten his head through the hole on the top of the pumpkin. The culprit was hiding in the doghouse, giggling loudly at the silly sight, and Winry dragged him inside, irritated, after removing the pumpkin from the dog’s head.

“No more candies for you! Alan, how do you think Doggo was feeling when you did that?”

“I… I thought he’d like it…”

“Would you like it if someone put a pumpkin on your head?”

“Sure! Pumpkin is delicious!”

‘Oh boy,’ Winry sighed in her mind, ‘why do I even bother? He’s got Elric blood in him’. Then she came up with a plan. “But honey, Doggo doesn’t like pumpkin. He hates it as much as you hate milk. What would you do if I forced you to drink milk?”

“I’d be angry!”

“Right. So do you understand now why you can’t put a pumpkin on his head?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s go find your dad, he’s probably worried already.”

Finally, Ed managed to get Alan and Emma to sleep. He had wished to get some alone time with his wife that night but he was rather exhausted after a long day out with the kids and he knew Winry was tired as well. The couple was cuddling in each other’s arms, about to fall asleep, when suddenly something white started moving in the room. Winry asked, slightly panicked:

“Um, Ed… do you believe in ghosts?”

“No, why the fuck would I… WHAT IS THAT?!” He screamed when he saw the ghost like creature getting closer.

“I don’t know but it’s definitely moving.”

“Could it be Doggo?”

“Doggo is outside, there’s no way that’s him.”

“Alan?”

“No, I know he’s sleeping soundly in his bed.”

“OK, that’s it, I’m putting the light on.”

Ed did that and saw that the ‘ghost’ was a sheet under which was…

“Emma! How… When… Winry look, she’s walking!”

“I didn’t know you already knew how to do that! Aw, sweetie, that is amazing!”

The little Emma just giggled at her parents silly expressions. They hugged her excitedly, both wondering where the girl had gotten that idea from. And how had she gotten out of her bed?

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #edween2018 #fullmetal alchemist #my fics

31 notes · View notes

radbrowndads · 6 years

Text

My mamoo passed away last week. When my friends and co-workers asked who I lost, I called him “my uncle”, but in English, he’d be more accurately described as my “first cousin once-removed” or my mother’s cousin. I have been devastated to lose him. Some folks not familiar with the culture I was raised with probably read this and think: "I’m not even that close to my first cousins, so why is he grieving about his Mom’s cousin?" As with all of my work, I am incredibly loathe to explain things that are inherent to my perspective or attempt to validate my world view as the child of Muslim immigrants.

But I think the reason I grieve my mamoo is important. And I want people to know the reason. I also want my family, who for better or worse all share Facebook as a common platform, to understand what he meant to me.

The crux of the importance is in that word, mamoo. "Mother’s brother."

In Urdu and in practice, we never distinguished between my mother’s actual brother and my mother’s cousin, nor my father’s sister and my father’s cousin. All were the same. And family comes with things like loyalty, respect, and unconditional love. It also comes with drama and arguments. But family is there for you.

Now like any family, you are closer to some branches and less to others. For whatever reason, this mamoo and his three other siblings has always been very close to our branch. Every single one of my mother’s four cousins has been deeply present throughout my life. They were (and are!) older than my parents and all but one were born in British India, in Panipat, before Partition.

Somehow, losing him, especially so suddenly, made me (and my sister Zainab, who independently came to the same conclusion) realize something — the culture of my mother’s family (and probably my father’s too) is seeped through with a refugee’s loss of home. My mother and everyone younger than her only knew Pakistan, but they inherited this trauma of their parents losing self, of losing home, of giving up what we knew to go to a new homeland and not by choice. And they passed that down to us. I’ve written about why this Partition means a lot previously here (https://www.buzzfeed.com/ahmedaliak…/not-quite-eat-pray-love). But even still I did not realize that how deeply these lessons penetrated my consciousness until I lost my mamoo.

My mamoo was a child when that happened. I can't even bear to think of all the young children whose lives ICE has ruined, but while mamoo and family would never be able to return home to India, the family stayed together at least. And he and his siblings have been a living link to that past we were inculcated with. My grandfather died when I was two, so my mamoo was the oldest man on my mother’s side that I regularly spent any time with. I hesitate to say he was like my grandfather, because that wasn’t the relationship at all and it feels pandering to American sensibilities of what familial love is. But still, whether he knew it or not, he was one of the most important elder men in my family and I see his influence on many in our generation. The loss was not just of a beloved family member — but of another pillar that was holding the family together, despite us dispersing throughout the world and away from Panipat.

Now, I want to point out that I have not personally experienced any suffering from this sort of “refugee” mindset, as it might imply to some. I have immense social and economic privilege as the children of two doctors and I have everything I could have ever asked for. But I do have this feeling that our culture, our family, our love for another may be eroded over time away from home. My grandparents worried that time in Pakistan would erode the culture from Panipat. And I worry that time here will erode some of the good that I learned from Pakistani culture. There is no strict value to this change, but when I talk with outsiders about my family, they remark that they admire how close we are. How much we are there for each other. And I never want to lose that.

On a personal level, there were many things I admired about my mamoo. He was present at every function he could be, no matter how far. Despite living in Pakistan and the UK, he visited my dying mother an incredible amount of times with his wife, my mami-jaan, who we also lost a few years back. I would often wake up from the deep sadness of knowing you’re going to lose a parent to see that yes, once again, Lutfi mamoo and Anwar Mami had came. I would ask him…. “Did you come from Pakistan?” not believing he had made the trip again, just to sit with his younger sister. And inevitably, he had. He made it seem like it was nothing at all, that to be there for us in our time of need was as easy as breathing. Mashallah. I wish to be like that in my family’s lives one day.

He was funny and loving and giving. You could be stuffed full of food and he would still literally stick his hand down your throat with food. My father was never much of a feeder in that way, so I never stopped being tickled watching this grown man lovingly present his entire khandan with nawallas to choke down at every meal. Until I was his next target of affection and I had to find a way to fend him off.

Once, he fed me the most delicious nihari of my life…. And immediately I fell unbearably sick with food poisoning, as did my sisters. But I recovered. And he served nihari again. I told him I wouldn’t eat it a second time, but he insisted… he said the sheermal we had eaten the nihari with was stamped on by the shopkeepers feet. "Just don’t eat the sheermal." So I happily ate it again, sans sheermal, only to be poisoned again. My sisters smartly avoided the second serving. I survived, but when I returned five years later, he served us nihari again and this time, despite his legendary insistence, I had learned to say no (he blamed the sheermal again). But my father did not, and he was the victim for the third iteration of this dangerous nihari. I had never him sweat like that. But I laughed at Lutfi mamu’s belief in our stomachs ability to persevere and his belief in showing love through food. It was, after all, the best damn nihari ever. I don’t regret eating it twice.

Before Facebook was ubiquitous, I’d get completely random Skype calls from him. I always found it a bit strange, since the older generation rarely called me at that age. And even more interesting, he’d often be calling in bed, against a generic white painted wall. And I’d ask him if he was calling from Lahore, his home. And no, he’d be calling me from Zanzibar or somewhere else in East Africa his business took him. I didn’t even know his job took him there! But he called me to ask how I was doing, to update me on his life, to connect us. As a lot of Pakistanis know, oldest children are valued and when you’re a younger sibling, you can sometimes feel ignored. But I never felt that way with my mamu. Those calls were such intensely memorable experiences of an elder treating me as if I was worthy. That I was valuable to him. I don’t even remember what we talked about, but it stayed with me, that he decided I was worth calling.

I am better at reflecting on the dead than the living. But I would remiss also to not mention his four daughters who have always treated us with a lot of love and affection as well, a legacy they got from both their parents. And of course, I can’t forget to eulogize his wife, Anwar Mami, who I have such fond memories watching cricket and cooking pullao with. I remember she was very impressed I had taken the effort to learn the family dish and I don’t believe my cooking deserved the level of praise she gave me. But that’s just the way she was with me.

Back to the original thrust of this: Lutfi Mamu was not the first person to die recently. We have lost so many elders in the past few years, including Mamu’s older sister, Khalida Khala, who I don’t believe I wrote anything about because it felt so freakish as well, that one day my beloved Khala could be there, and then be gone to a medical complication. And the same with Mami jaan who died to a long battle with cancer, as did my mother and Nuzhat Usmani’s husband Salahuddin Khalu. And then, of course, things repeat themselves. And Lutfi mamu died to a complication, to a battle with recovery.

And I realize that these things are not freakish, they are not strange. They are the norm. It happened to my parents and they felt the loss of Panipat and it will happen to us and we will feel the loss of Pakistan. One day my generation and I will look around and we will be carrying the torch of the legacy of the family. For better or for worse, we all took something from our family. I don’t know that I valorize any family value besides loving the fuck out of your family, besides being there for people who need you, besides loving to share food. A lot of other stuff is negotiable and I don’t want to say that I think inherently being an Usmani is good.

But being a family who loves each other. Where a cousin’s child can grieve his mamoo, to feel truly and bitterly lost at losing another model of Usmanihood, of family, of loving…. That is what I believe we should hold on to. Because it’s easy to transition to new ways of living, of nuclear families and of individual needs over those of the many. But for me, that way lies a deep, painful loss. I don’t want to let that happen. Because ammi, my mamoo, my mami jaan, my khala, and all the others we lost would be intensely pissed to know that the family is not together. And a week in London with the family has me confident that we can make it work, but it requires humility and sacrifice. It requires calls from Zanzibar and force feeding nihari that makes you shit out your face and your ass because it comes with a moment of bliss.

After my mamoo’s funeral, I saw my niece Laila play with her cousins, who are my mom’s cousins grandchildren. And I hope in thirty years, when they all grow up, they’re still connected. Because we did the fucking work and made the calls.

EDIT: i keep editing this to add clarification, but i think at this point i need a new comment.

one, i am sure there are buzurgon i have forgotten to name. one major one i forgot is rehmat amma, who was truly and absolutely the legacy of my nani on this earth during my lifetime. and i am sorry if i have forgotten others, but i pray that all of their souls are at ease

two, one of the bitter contradictions about having a huge, closely knit family is that deep layers of sweet familiarity and love are also marked by constant, repetitive cycles of loss and death. it’s a hard, but i think ultimately useful perspective to have on life. death is ever-present, for each of us, and whether you turn to god for explanation or you use the loss to find balance, i believe it is useful to know that life is short and it ends and it ends and it ends. I wouldn’t trade that knowledge for anything.

24 notes · View notes