#[ she approves of most of the good choices like DO Y’ALL REALIZE WHAT YOURE SAYING ]

[spiderwarden]

Its so funny to me when people write so many times say they don’t see eye to eye with Minthara.

[catgrump]

Hiiii!!!! Would you be able to maybe write 👉👈 "tell me about yourself" for Sonia and Gundham? Maybe something that happens while the killing game is happening?

(Looks at my pile of requests)

(Sees Sondham)

Yeah fine lol

Y’all keep asking for my favorite ships while I’m anxiously waiting to release my new prompt list lmao stop that /hj

So uh this is actually College AU SORRY I had a much stronger idea for that

Ibuki is also here as Gundham’s sister cuz Gundham & Ibuki siblings make me go brrrrr

🌻🌻🌻

“You truly believe these photographs truly encompass my being?” Gundham asked, furrowing his brow at his phone’s screen

“Absotutely posalutely!” His sister Ibuki declared, clinging her chipped nail polish hands onto his shoulders, “Especially the one of you with the Devas; people are gonna go NUTS over that.”

“Hm,” Gundham pondered Ibuki’s choice in photos, but he has no experience with this sort of thing, so he trusts her judgement, “Now I am required to write a biography?”

“Yeah! Tell people about yourself so you can attract people who’d like you,” Ibuki explained, peering over his shoulder

“Do you have any suggestions?” He asked, his thumbs frozen in place, hovering above the screen

“Maybe like... hmmm,” Ibuki hummed as she thought, but then realized something, “Well hold on. Ibuki doesn’t know what you’re looking for here, my guy.”

“What I’m looking for?” Gundham needed clarification

“Well in Ibuki’s experience, bios for people who just want to hook up are REALLY different than bios of people who are looking for something more.”

“Ah, I see. I believe I would prefer a more substantial relationship.”

“Okay, so you should say in the bio you’re looking for that kind of commitment,” Ibuki chirped

Gundham started typing:

I seek a mortal brave enough to attempt to become my dark consort

“Oooh fun!” Ibuki encouraged him

“Do I need to declare any more?”

“Yeah yeah tell people what kind of stuff you like!”

He typed some more:

My Four Dark Devas of Destruction (featured in the third photograph) shall determine whether or not you are a worthy partner. Our courtship will not continue if they judge you unfavorably. This is not personal.

“Uh huh uh huh uh huh,” Ibuki enthusiastically nodded her head in approval

“I should specify that I have no preference for gender, I presume?”

“Yeah definitely!”

Bisexual

“If there’s nothing else you can think of, I think this is a good place to start,” Ibuki clapped her hands together in excitement

“Fantastic.”

“Now comes the fun part,” Ibuki leaned on her brother, resting her head on his shoulder as they got comfortable on his couch, “Swiping! Sometimes Ibuki just lays in bed for HOURS swiping for no reason.”

“Left is for those I do not wish to court, correct?”

“Yeah yeah and right is for people you’re interested in!”

Gundham and Ibuki spent a couple minutes reading profiles and swiping left on countless people who were obviously not good enough for Gundham— at least, that’s how Ibuki put it.

And then... they found her.

“Wait wait wait stop!!” Gundham’s eyes widened as his thumb froze over the phone, ceasing the swiping auto-pilot as Ibuki got his attention, “Look at HER!”

On screen was a photo of a beautiful blonde girl with piercing blue eyes, a dark plum lipstick adorning her pale face, backdropped by a wall of preserved flowers and sheer black curtains

Her profile read:

Sonia, 21

(She/Her, Bi) Come perform sacrifices under the full moon with me

Just kidding ... unless...

Gundham scrolled through the rest of her photos. She’s too good to be true. There’s a photo of her looking up from a book in a coffee shop with an adorable smile. There’s a selfie where a rose quartz pendant shines between her collarbones. She has high quality photos of her posing with friends in a field of wheat. She’s gorgeous.

“Gundham, if you don’t swipe right I don’t know who you are anymore,” Ibuki told him

So he did just that.

And his heart quickened its beat when the screen suddenly changed.

It’s a match!

“Oh my gawd, Gundham YES you gotta send her a message!” Ibuki giddily encouraged him

“What would I tell her?”

“That she’s really pretty and you want to get to know her or something!”

His phone vibrated in his palm. She messaged first.

“You are the most interesting person I have seen on tinder... probably ever! Tell me about yourself!”

“Good gods; what do I say?”

“Dude literally just talk about yourself.”

“You do not understand how difficult that is, Ibuki.”

“Okay, then ask her what she wants to know,” Ibuki suggested

“I thank you for your kind words. What do you wish to know?”

“Tell me about your Four Dark Devas of Destruction 🖤 They seem like perfect companions”

“Okay; she’s passing Ibuki’s tests so far,” Ibuki muttered, not even trying to hide that she was reading over his shoulder

“Yes, my Devas are simply bound to the bodies of what foolish mortals call ‘hamsters’, as their true forms can not be contained on this plane. They are loyal minions, and you are correct, worthy companions.”

And then he quickly added

“You appear to be as intelligent as you are beautiful. I admire it.”

Gundham felt his face heat up and his sister smacked his shoulder and gasped. “Look at you! Smooth as ice!”

“I am simply making an observation,” he attempted to defend himself

His phone vibrated again, and he quickly checked to see Sonia’s newest message

“Aw thank you 🖤 I know we have not been communicating for very long, but I sense the same about you. I can feel it in my guts!”

“Oh, she’s divine,” he whispered, clutching his hand to his mouth in awe

“Gundham, you’ve had tinder for less than a day and Ibuki thinks you’ve met the girl of your dreams. It’s like a tinder speedrun!” Ibuki laughed and then gasped, “Give her your number! Do it do it do it do it do it!”

And then his phone vibrated once more.

“I do not normally move this quickly to communicate off tinder, but I receive messages faster this way, and I must learn more about you: the fascinating and handsome man with his own minions 🖤”

She gave him her phone number.

If you enjoy my writing, you can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi if you’re able! 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me.

[johns-prince]

Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?

I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.

Why speculate when we know it was and is real 

Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;

If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it. 

So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess) 

And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.  

I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all. 

So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed. 

John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era. 

I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up. 

Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.

How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health. 

Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted. 

I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.

If only they had talked.

Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...

“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"

— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”

Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.

But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions? 

I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.

Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day. 

Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’ 

Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them. 

How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it? 

That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’ 

So, you take whatever you can with them. 

Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees. 

Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings. 

You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers. 

A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.

And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year. 

Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.

I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better. 

I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too. 

Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good. 

Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other. 

Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief. 

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you’ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close. 

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present. 

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. 

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details. 

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence. 

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V. 

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach. 

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room. 

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs. 

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression. 

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up. 

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,” 

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire. 

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same. 

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in  less than thirty-minutes. 

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag. 

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files. 

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship. 

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement. 

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment. 

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response. 

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,” 

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune. 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home 

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss. 

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch. 

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear. 

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully. 

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone. 

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh 

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below. 

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags. 

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him. 

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce. 

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,” 

“Two nights?” he complains. 

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind. 

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair. 

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—” 

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her. 

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath. 

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport. 

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?” 

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row. 

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani. 

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her. 

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window. 

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit. 

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor. 

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony. 

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead. 

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend. 

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass. 

“S’it  gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,” 

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl. 

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group. 

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated. 

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat. 

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet. 

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain. 

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,” 

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort. 

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would. 

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being. 

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California. 

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry. 

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo. 

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it. 

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently. 

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end. 

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can��t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil. 

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.  

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

 “I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over. 

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly. 

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours. 

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never. 

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out. 

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

 “I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp. 

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye. 

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. 

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing. 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm. 

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor. 

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?” 

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently. 

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her. 

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back. 

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes. 

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s  gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat. 

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose. 

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses. 

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

“If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being  wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either. 

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls. 

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

[darlinvandijk]

Okay since i can sing i can just imagine reader and Ruel singing Best Part or something while it rains outside or he finds out that reader can sing when shes just singing to herself thinking that shes alone and freaking out being like "BABE WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME" "OHMYGOD WE CAN DO DUETS NOW" etc and just being obsessed with the fact that his gf can sing as well

So honestly this was written very fast and I kinda just manically typed it up and decided it was the move so I hope y’all enjoy this jumbled mess I made and I added some cute touchy fluff and a little making out because it’s quarantine and why not fuck with y’alls hormones (holy shit I’m adding in this rn before I post it and oh god I think I fucked with my own hormones as I wrote it, I’m dyING) (it’s also like kinda uhm sexual if you didn’t get the hint, NO smut, but definitely sensual towards the end!!!) :) xx

~Secrets & Rainy Days~

I pick up Ruels dirty clothes off the floor, throwing them into the hamper we have in the corner of the room, deciding that today’s rainy day would be dedicated to cleaning. Trust me, I’d rather sleep and watch Netflix all day, but when you live with a walking tornado of a boyfriend, you sometimes just don’t have a choice. We have a system though, since he does all of the cooking and errand running (usually making me go with him because he gets “lonely”), while I just tidy up the apartment once it starts to look a little messy. It’s not like he doesn’t clean at all or leaves his mess everywhere, he just doesn’t know a thing about organizing and loves to leave his dirty socks on our bedroom floor.

As I finish up our bedroom, only having to pick up a few articles of clothing, and fix our bedside tables, I hear him start to strum on his guitar. I instantly get excited, since one of my favorite parts about cleaning days, is that he always sings, giving me my own private concert. I softly smile and grab his hoodie off of our desk chair, taking it outside to him since he’s only in a t-shirt and sweats, knowing he’d sit out on the balcony and play regardless if he gets cold or not. I stop in front of his favorite outdoor sofa, laughing at the way he has an umbrella strategically placed to block the light rain coming down just so he could stay out here.

“Thanks my love, since today is cleaning day, what songs do you want to request? I also opened the other windows so you could still hear me” he softly questions, giving me a boyish grin while grabbing the hoodie from my hands. I ponder over his question before giving him a small shrug, choosing to rush from the doorway and to get under his umbrella, so I could climb up on to his lap. He lets out a laugh, setting his guitar against the chair where it could still be protected from the rain, but give him space to wrap his arms around me.

“Hm I don’t know, surprise me? You already know I love everything you sing” I mumble, pressing my lips lightly against his neck, laughing when he shivers from the contact. I press another kiss to his neck, slowly making my way around the base of his throat, leaving a trail of light pink marks as I go. I get to his favorite spot, a little bit below his ear, and lightly bite down, smirking when he lets out a groan and digs his fingers into my hips. Before I can even try to keep going, my face is pulled away from his neck, his lips instantly smashing upon mine.

I let out a light gasp as he kisses me, my mouth instantly being filled with the taste of cherry chapstick, the chapstick I know he stole from my purse. I grip on to his shoulders, his own hands gripping my hips and pulling me against him, before I start to become restless. My hands move up into his hair, lightly tugging on it as he groans into my mouth, before I swipe my tongue across his bottom lip. He pulls away from me with a chuckle, lips and face flushed red, and a light smirk on his face.

“As much as I love having you on top of me, I already know you’re going to be mad tonight if you don’t get all your organizing done, so let’s postpone this for when you’re done” he laughs out, eyes focused on the pout that forms on my face, knowing I was about to start whining. I open my mouth to complain that I want attention, only to get cut off right before I can even speak since he leans in and gives me another kiss. “Lets make a deal, once you finish up, we can do whatever you want. Sound good baby?” He says with a soft smile, knowing exactly what I was going to ask for.

“Cuddles and kisses?” I ask, resting my hands on both sides of his face, feeling the soft skin move as he presses a kiss against my palm. He gives me a small nod of approval, knowing just exactly how I like to spend our lazy days together, which is with him absolutely showering me in love and attention. “Fine, I guess I’ll go finish what I need to do, buuuut I want a kiss. Just one more” I tell him, giving him a small pout as I run my thumb across his bottom lip. He chuckles at my whining, giving my thumb a kiss, before grasping the side of my face in his hand.

“One more kiss and then you gotta go do whatever it is that you do when organizing” he whispers, his mouth pressing against mine right after. I lean in more, adding more pressure in hopes of distracting him, only for him to pull away with one last peck against my lips. “I know what you’re trying to do, it’s not gonna work this time sweetheart” he laughs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as I roll my eyes, knowing I’ll have to wait till later for him to give me more attention. I climb off of his lap, turning so I can get out from under his umbrella, when his hand flys out and roughly smacks against my ass.

“Rueloff” I screech, jumping from under the umbrella, only to end up standing in the rain, a glare heavily directed at the lanky bitch. His head is thrown back as he laughs, a sound that would usually be music to my ears, now making me want to punch him in the head. “You’re literally so annoying” I grumble out, walking back into our bedroom to change, already feeling to spots where the shirt was sticking to my skin.

“You weren’t saying that like 2 seconds ago when you were basically trying to get me to strip on our balcony” he says trying to get a rise out of me. I let out a scoff, a small smile picking at my lips though, since I could never genuinely be mad at him. I finish putting on one of his sweaters, before making my way to our living room, since that was the room that needed the most fixing up.

I start picking up the random things we leave laying around, when I hear him start to play on his guitar again, waiting to see just what song he picked out to surprise me with this time. He starts strumming the beginning chords of self control by frank, before his voice starts to drift throughout the room, a smile of pure adoration on my face as I hear the voice I love more than anything. I finish picking up all of the things left out, rearranging pillows and blankets on the couches, before deciding it’s time to do my least favorite thing. Dusting. Some might ask why I hate having to dust things off, well let me tell you why. Whenever I dust things off, it always somehow manages to just get the perfect amount of dust particles in the air, making me sneeze like crazy every time. Usually to the point where Ruel has to stop singing because he’s laughing so hard. Laughing so hard at my pain, because he’s a terrible person like that. Such a sadist honestly.

I get out the duster, completely filled with dread, only to end up filled to the brim with excitement as I hear the new song he decided to play. My heart beating out of my chest with love as he sings the song he dedicated to me, saying it almost perfectly described the love he felt for me, but not quite since no words could ever fully describe it. The sounds of him singing, with the light rain mixed in, causing me to feel nothing but pure bliss.

“You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring, won't you give yourself to me” I softly sing, creating a harmony only I could hear with both of our voices, lightly dusting off the tv stand that was starting to form a layer of dust. I move around the living room, singing to myself, while surprisingly not sneezing from the dust flying up into the air. Also surprisingly not hearing the guitar stop and light footsteps heading into the living room. “I just wanna see, I just wanna see how beautiful you are, you know that I see it, I know you're a star” I sing, a smile on my face as I dance and dust around our living room, completely in my own little world as the lyrics blissfully spill from my lips. Not noticing the love of my life, also in complete bliss as I sing our song, the song that has now become even more important to him. He finally decides that he can’t stay silent anymore and instantly tackles me on to our couch, absolutely smothering me in kisses.

“Baby!! You never told me you could sing, like holy shit this changes so many things” he all but screams out, his eyes almost glowing with affection as he stares down at my horrified face, which is burning in complete embarrassment as I realize he heard me singing. “Fuck I already know we have to do a duet with this but now I need to figure out all the other duets we can do” he mutters, completely ignoring me underneath him, and getting lost in all the ideas forming in his head at a rapid pace.

“Oh my god no, Ruel I literally barely sing. That wasn’t anything special” I groan out, face completely buried in his neck, not wanting him to see how red I was turning from all of his praise and attention. He roughly pulls back and stares at me in shock, acting like I just told him I ate Wilbur for breakfast. “Stop looking at me like that” I whine out, knowing he’s going to make this a huge deal, since he’s always been a bit more on the dramatic side.

“Are you kidding me? You were insane, like literally fucking legendary” he cries out, the giant grin on his face still there, and not leaving any time soon. I reach my hand up and cover my face, trying to not get even more flustered than I already was, if that’s even possible. “I’m being serious baby, you know I wouldn’t try and get you to sing with me for the fans if I didn’t think you were going to do great. You’d honestly be better than me, don’t underestimate yourself” he softly says, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose as he finally takes in how apprehensive I am about this.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m still very mortified that this even happened and just want cuddles now” I mumble, looking up into his eyes as he stares down at me with a cute smile on his face. He nods his head before leaning down, pressing his lips against mine in a soft but love filled kiss, before he gets up and extends his hand to me. I grab his hand and get off of the couch, only to get thrown over his shoulder as he jogs to our room. I let out a shriek as he tosses me on the bed, jumping on top of me meee seconds later, before he smashes his lips on mine in a rushed manner, leaving me completely dazed.

“God I’m so fucking in love with you” he mumbles against my lips, his hands traveling all over me as he picks up the pace of our kiss, grabbing one of my legs to wrap around his waist. I let out a soft gasp as his lips travel down my neck, leaving little marks all over as he mutters how much he loves me in between kisses, my back arching up into him on instinct from his touch. “So fucking in love with you” he groans out, leaning up to press our lips together, his hands finding mine and interlocking them above my head, before I pull away completely out of breath.

“If I would have known you’d react to me singing like this, I would have sang for you a lot sooner” I gasp out, my chest heaving up and down as I try to steady my breathing, Ruels breathing just as staggered as mine. He leans in and gives me a slow kiss, completely taking my breath away again, before pulling back with my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it fall back into place slowly with a smirk on his face. “Maybe this singing thing isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought” I mutter, eyes locked on his mouth as his tongue swipes out along his bottom lip. He lets out a quiet laugh, watching the way my eyes seems to twinkle as I stare at him, his mind completely and utterly focused on me.

“Oh trust me, you’ll be singing alright”

[creativityobsessed]

Be Brave Adachi, or the musical shaping of episodes 1-4

Part 4: Episode 4

This is part of a 4 part series. You may wish to start with part 1, where I introduced the main musical cue we’ll be following and how it represents Adachi questioning the world as he knew it. Or, if you missed part 2, or part 3, you might want to start there.  

If you would like to follow along, please cue up 13:15 in episode 4.*

HOO BOY does everything happen in Episode 4! I swear every time I went back to rewatch to check something I noticed 2 more things that were worth mentioning. Go get your drink of choice, we’re gonna be here a while.

Since we have so much to talk about, and there’s not much new going on, I’m going to gloss over the 1.5 rotations of Questioning that happen right after Adachi gets off the phone with Tsuge. Y’all probably recognize it by now, right? Right. 

The really interesting new stuff in this episode starts after Kurosawa rescues Adachi and Fujisaki, while they’re walking back to the office. Here, for the first time in full since episode 1, we get a repeat of the guitar music that I called Adachi-at-home in the first post in this series. Now, I’m gonna have to make a slight retraction because a) I didn’t know yet that this was gonna be important later, and b) it’s more interesting than I originally thought. So, to add some nuance, this guitar cue is not just Adachi when he’s on his own, fully relaxed, it’s that plus Adachi ruminating on how he doesn’t compare to Kurosawa. In the first case, he’s wishing for just one of Kurosawa’s good qualities. Here, he’s pointing out that they are “fundamentally different” with overtones of I am fundamentally worse than he is. The super interesting thing that I missed the first time around though is that this is the tune of the Home section. Sure it’s in C-sharp major (ish) rather than A major (not exactly a related key, but not an unrelated key either, at least if you ask Brahms^), but the melody is the same enough that I DEFINITELY should have caught that. What can I say, *shrug* pandemic brain.

So, anyways, given what I have since discovered about this guitar cue, I’d like to revise what I think it’s about - it’s about Adachi’s unacknowledged crush on Kurosawa. He still doesn’t realize yet that Kurosawa is something he wants, but moments like these show us just how much he wants it. 

Around 16:15, at the end of Fujisaki’s internal monologue in the elevator, Questioning comes in. This time, though, it’s not about Kurosawa in the slightest. When I was first trying to come up with a point to this series so my Intro to Musicology professor wouldn’t hunt me down for writing a “here’s some stuff” paper, I was all ready to say Kurosawa is the answer and call it a day. But if that’s the case, then why does Questioning start here? Sure, he just found out that Fujisaki knows about Kurosawa’s crush, but the worldview that he’s questioning isn’t that Fujisaki is more observant than he thought. It’s his reaction to her disinterest in relationships. Furthermore, this version of Questioning is far more stable than previous ones - instead of a tritone or other non-chord set of vertically stacked pitches, most of the Question phrases end on unison D, or some version of D + F-sharp (usually in the m6 orientation, rather than M3). Each Question phrase is approximately in time, or at least close enough that we have a sense of when the next will happen, where in the first few versions of Questioning the space between each phrase rotation felt indeterminate. I think what we’re seeing here is that even though Adachi still has questions, his life has already changed. He has a better sense of the people around him, and is less terrified of asking questions.

The Questioning section actually pauses when Kurosawa notices Adachi’s wound, and we don’t head into the next section immediately. In fact, we don’t ever get the next section here - we jump straight to Home, as Adachi starts back in on how much better Kurosawa is than him. It’s in the piano here, I think mostly so that they don’t have to change instrumentation midway through (we’ll see why in a second). This version of Home is the same slow tempo as the guitar version, and it’s very dry. All of the harmony is in block chords, which contributes to a kind of emptiness. But that’s ok because it doesn’t last. 

After a single (musical) sentence, Adachi begins to hear Kurosawa’s own self-loathing through his thoughts. As this happens, the chords that were once in blocks stretch out into arpeggios, filling in the spaces around the melody, in a move that reminds me so much of the way that letting go of a bit of anxiety can feel like unfurling from a tiny space.** Kurosawa’s “I’m sure he finds me annoying” is immediately followed by the addition of a cello line - and I’m about to go do some rewatching looking for where cello is important, but my first impression hypothesis is that cello represents Kurosawa’s inner headspace, particularly after some of the ways I noticed it being used in ep. 7. The cello twines around the piano line that we’re already familiar with, possibly as a metaphor for the way that Adachi and Kurosawa are having similar thoughts. And, as with earlier episodes, we end without a full resolution - we get a cadence, sort of, but the piano continues for a bit and ends with a cluster of notes with G as the main thing that catches our ear. For those unfamiliar, G is not a particularly tonic-feeling note in A major. It’s flat 7, which helps tremendously in feeling like we are NOT in major, better suited to the melancholy nature of the various thoughts flying around here. 

And then. Ok, and THEN. The part I have been writing this entire series to talk about. So, to set the scene, right? Adachi thanks Kurosawa, Kurosawa deflects but gives Adachi a direct, blinding smile, and for once Adachi doesn’t squint. He returns the smile. He has become comfortable here. 

As if that weren’t enough, the music comes in, and yes, we’re back to Questioning, but it is absolutely in time, with two beats of 6/8 between each iteration of the Question Phrase. Furthermore, this version has both guitar and glockenspiel in it - the guitar is Adachi’s home instrument, and here it suggests he’s become comfortable with questioning the world around him, while the glock does more to highlight the difference in the treatment of time. 

We don’t move on from this section for a bit, because Fujisaki interrupts his thoughts. We do, however, get hints of the next section - a rising line in the piano timed in the same way as the next section will start, for example. The underpinnings of the Questioning section provide a lush background for Adachi’s monologue on visiting Fujisaki’s mother, something the first version of Questioning could not have done. Adachi is being very brave here, and the changes to our favorite cue are a reflection of that. 

As he finishes we head in to the section of the piece, which is mostly accompanying shots of Fujisaki being overwhelmed, Adachi being worried that his attempt to be brave has gone wrong, and not much happening. There’s a weird loop in the middle, which makes me think that they tried it with the whole track and it felt waaaay too long without anything happening. 

Anyway, after she reassures him that his bravery is appreciated, we head into the Answer section. Adachi and Fujisaki’s chitchat isn’t what’s important here. The important thing is we have the Answer section, and here it is fully scored, electric guitar and bass, percussion, the works. Not only that, but the cue ends, and it ENDS ON THE TONIC. We did it folks! We found the resolution! And it turns out, the way to get there was to BE BRAVE.

This may not be the end of the whole series, but this is AN ending. This is the pan-out that we get at the end of every 90s Hollywood teen romcom. Adachi has Learned Something with capital letters, and it’s not that he loves Kurosawa or even that he needs to give up his low self-esteem. It’s that he can be brave, and he can contribute. It’s hard, and it may take four episodes of building to it, but he can do it.

Which is a lesson he’s really gonna need for the beginning of 5. But that’s a story for another time.

If you’ve followed my nerdery this far and you’ve enjoyed this series, please let me know via likes, replies, and/or reblogs. I may eventually continue the series if there’s enough interest (there’s some FASCINATING things that happen to this cue in episode 7, for example), but for now, I’m gonna go take a nap.

I did a follow up in response to an ask, if you really really want more.

*All video timings and quotes are from Irozuku Subs videos. If you’re watching somewhere else, your mileage may vary slightly.

^If you’re a SUPER HARD CORE theory nerd, look up Neo-Riemannian Theory for how this works. Or just if you want your brain to explode. Either way, have fun, cause I need it for my dissertation and I STILL don’t quite understand how it works.

**Not an Academically Approved metaphor. This is why I’m doing this on tumblr.

[obxfics]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

summary: in a perfect world, you could be with the pogues without putting anyone you loved at risk, but you didn’t live in a perfect world. you lived in the outer banks, and sometimes sacrifices need to be made to protect those you care about.

pairing: pope x reader

word count: 2,717

a/n: once again 60s AU! When i said it would be a series, i should have clarified that it would be a collection of fics. They don’t all necessarily take place in the same universe, hence the different pairings. i’m really enjoying these, so i hope you enjoy reading them! fair warning tho: this does not have a happy ending. i may write a part two using another song if y’all are interested, but as for this fic right now... this will not be a feel good fic.

The Summer Garden Party. The biggest event of the summer on Kildare island, and one that only those from Figure Eight were invited to. Neither one of your brothers, or you for that matter, really enjoyed going, mostly because your family didn’t really fit in with the rest of the second homers, but your grandparents had long been invited, and your father’s diner was a favorite for even the Kooks, so you were forced to attend every year. Your grandmother always picked out a lovely dress she had probably seen on the First Lady or Grace Kelly, and your brothers were shoved into slacks and sports coats, your mother forcing them to sit still as she slicked their hair back as if they were some big Hollywood actors. You wished your friends—well they weren’t really your friends anymore were they.

Earlier in the summer, you were forced to part from the Pogues after your diner had been trashed and Pope… the boy you loved was jumped because of your association with the lower class group. You knew on some level they understood, or at least John B did when you told him tearfully when he had come to check up on you, but you were still afraid that they hated you. Did they think you betrayed them by choosing the Kooks over them? It wasn’t much of a choice for you. Your family’s safety had been put at risk, and while you adored your friends, you loved them too much to see them hurt again. You couldn’t be the reason Pope was attacked or worse. So you played the perfect Kook. You dressed in tasteful dresses and pants inspired by Audrey Hepburn, attended summer tea parties, and went to the movies in the Camerons’ pretty blue Thunderbird. And then at night you went upstairs, wiped away all the make-up you had caked on, let your hair down, and cried yourself to sleep.

“Lovelies, are you ready?” your grandmother asked, poking her head into the bathroom where you were just finishing up with your makeup and your mother had finished twisting the last strands of hair into the updo you had decided on.

“Yes, Mother, we just need to put the finishing touch,” your mother answered.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe when your mother uncapped the hairspray can and started spraying the elaborate hairstyle she had spent an hour doing. Even so, you coughed as you waved the sticky mist from your face and edged to the bathroom door to escape the fumes.

“Not so fast, young lady,” your mother called, smiling when your grandmother stopped you from leaving. “You’re forgetting the most important part!”

You managed to suppress the urge to roll your eyes when you saw the pearl necklace in your mother’s hands. It was a precious family heirloom, passed down from your grandmother to your mother and now to you, but as much as you loved your family, you still hated the feeling of going full Kook. You had betrayed your friends, and for what? To wear fancy clothes to fancy parties and laugh at rude boys who wanted nothing more than to taint you? Still, you allowed your mother to place the necklace on you and clasp it at the back of your neck. The pearls were cool on your collarbone, and you had to admit that you looked quite nice, but you didn’t look like you, not really. How you longed to lounge about in your bikini, Keds, and one of Pope’s Hawaiian shirts. You were your father’s daughter, a wild child who belonged to the waves, whether that be the Florida coast or the Outer Banks.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” your grandmother sniffled, careful not to smudge her makeup. “So much like your mother at your age.”

“Ladies!” you heard your father call up the stairs. “Are we going to this shindig or not?”

“Is it that time already? Oh, dear, we can’t be late!”

You followed your mother and grandmother down the stairs, taking careful steps to seem graceful in the pumps you were forced to wear. At the bottom of the stairs, you saw your father and grandfather tucking a few cigars into their coat pockets while Christian and Diego fussed with their suspenders and gelled up hair. You all looked the part of a perfect Kook family. You took Diego’s outstretched hand and smiled gratefully at Christian when he draped your shawl over your shoulders. Well at least you still had your brothers even if you couldn’t have your Pogues.

“I say we stay for an hour, steal some booze, and make a break for the beach,” Diego whispered as you all climbed into the station wagon.

“Aw, you don’t want to dance with any pretty girls?” Christian teased his younger brother.

“Diego’s already been through all the pretty girls on the island,” you laughed, checking to make sure your parents and grandparents hadn’t heard. “He’s so used to drinking and partying at college. I bet you even smoke some things Mother and Pops wouldn’t approve of,” you whispered with a giggle.

“Nothing you can prove,” Diego said, before grinning and showing you what he had stowed in his inside coat pocket. “But we could have a very pleasant night if y’all wanted to.”

The three of you stifled giggles as your car pulled up to the Country Club where you could already hear the sound of the band playing under the stars. You took the hand that the valet offered you with a smile, and you took a moment to smooth out any creases that had formed while you had been squished between your brothers before you looked up to thank the valet.

“Pope,” you breathed out when your eyes met those of your ex-lover’s. Your heart clenched painfully, and your grip on his hand tightened without your permission. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He offered you a small, sad smile and squeezed your hand once before letting go. “You look beautiful tonight, Miss y/l/n. Please enjoy your evening.”

Your brothers each took ahold of one of your arms and led you forward before you could have a breakdown before even stepping foot into the party.

“Keep looking forward,” Christian whispered in your ear when he saw you begin to look behind you. “Rafe and Topper are already keeping an eye on us.”

Although it physically pained you to do so, you restrained yourself from looking back at the boy you loved with all your heart, and instead smiled and allowed Topper to kiss your cheek. You hated that you had to go on dates with him, pretending to be infatuated with him. All to protect those you actually loved. He took your hand from your brothers’ and began leading you away from them towards the area by the state set up for dancing. The band was playing “A Teenager in Love,” and your stomach turned at the thought of being in Topper’s arms swaying to it together. But you would bear it.

“You look beautiful,” he told you as he placed his hands at your waist. “Like Grace Kelly, almost.”

You were sure your grandmother would love to hear that, but you knew she wasn’t fond of most the families in Figure Eight. While your grandparents raised your mother here, they had worked hard to get to where they are, and they adored your father despite his poorer upbringing. They had never bought into the class division of the island, and they despised how kids your age were being raised to hate on those less fortunate than them. She, like you, knew Topper and Rafe were among the worst, but you assured her that you knew what you were doing getting involved with them. You didn’t. You just knew that if you were with one of them, no one would dare mess with you, and you were in a position to take their attention from the Pogues. So you swallowed your nausea each day and allowed Topper to kiss you and touch you.

“I can’t believe those lowlives are allowed here,” he growled, bringing you from your thoughts.

You turned your head to see he was glaring at the Pogues. All three boys were dressed as waiters, Pope having left his post as valet once everyone had arrived. Your heart pounded in your chest when you felt his grip on your waist tighten. You placed your hand on his cheek, smiling at him in an attempt to get him to focus solely on you.

“The Garden Party wouldn’t be successful without people serving the drinks, right?” you cooed. “Just focus on dancing with me.”

It seemed to work for a few moments until you noticed Diego approach the Pogues. What was he doing?

“What the hell is your brother doing?” Topper echoed your thoughts.

“I-I don’t know. Wait, Topper!”

You weren’t quick enough to grab his wrist as he made his way over to where your brother was.

“What’s happening?” Kie was at your side in a flash.

“I don’t know! Diego just went over to talk to the boys, and now Topper is going to blow a gasket!”

The two of you rushed after your “boyfriend” as he got in Diego’s face. Your brother raised his arms in a placating manner, his eyes flashing over to meet yours in a panic.

“Whoa, calm down, buddy,” Diego said in a gentle tone, “I was just asking for them to make me an old fashioned. That’s it, Topper.”

“Topper,” you called, placing a hand on his arm once you reached him, “just leave it. Diego just wanted a drink, okay?”

A yelp escaped you when Topper shoved you away from you into Kie’s arms.

“Don’t patronize me! You two think you’re so clever, don’t you? Think I don’t realize you’re still messing around with these low-lives?” Topper snarled at you.

“Hey, you don’t get to talk to her like that!” Pope snapped.

John B held Pope back while Diego stepped aside, letting JJ approach Topper. There would be a lot worse consequences if Pope was the one to lose it. So you all were left to watch as JJ smirked and socked Topper right in the eye. Chaos descended as the boy you were with toppled to the ground, and JJ dropped on top of him to continue whaling on him. You were aware of many women around you screaming for security, and you realized you were one of them. You had to do something.

“JJ, stop!” you begged your friend. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

If he hurt Topper too bad, there was no way you could protect your friends from the Kooks. You had to stop him. You locked eyes with Christian who had come running once the first punch had been thrown. He got the message and wrapped his arms around JJ, managing to drag the blonde off your “boyfriend.” This allowed you to drop to your knees beside Topper, probably ruining your pretty dress, and touch his face tenderly. Please don’t be hurt, you begged the cosmos. For the Pogues’ sake, please don’t be hurt. Rafe helped you hoist Topper to his feet.

“Here, let’s get you taken care of,” you whispered and took his hand. “Will you let me take care of you?”

Thankfully, he let you lead him through the crowd that had formed and into the building. You found the locker room and sat him down on one of the benches so you could properly assess the damage. You saw he had a split lip and some swelling appearing around his right eye. Not too bad, but still not good. You blew out a sigh as you briefly touched the cut on his bottom lip.

“I’m going to go get some ice and a first aid kit, okay? Stay here for me.”

“You chose me,” he said.

“Are you surprised?”

“I thought you had been messing around with all of them. But you chose me tonight.”

The day I choose you is the day I die, you promised in your head. “You’re my boyfriend, and, like you say, they’re just lowlives. Every girl likes to have a bit of rebellion before settling down, right. Mine is over.” You turned to the door, “I’ll be back with that ice.”

As you entered the kitchen, you heard the band start playing again. Elvis Presley this time. You had always loved this song. Had danced with Pope to it many times in your room as it played from your record player.

“Are you okay?” you heard from behind you as you wrapped some ice up in a towel. Pope. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Pope.”

“You need to be more careful with him.”

You whirled around to glare at the boy. “I need to be more careful? No, you need to! You all do! There is only so much I can do so he doesn’t try to kill the three of you stupid boys,” you snapped.

“Oh, so is that what you’re doing with him?” he scoffed.

“As a matter of fact, it is. You think I like being with him? He’s rude. And he hates the Beach Boys. And his hands like to wander too much at the drive-in. But I bear it all to protect you.”

Pope stepped forward so your chests were practically touching. The tension between you was palpable, and oh had you missed it.

“And why would you want to protect me?”

“Because I love you, you dolt!”

His hand was on the small of your back now, the distance between you two dwindling rapidly. You could barely focus on anything but the feel of his hand on you.

“Do you really?”

“For someone so smart, you can be so slow,” you whispered. “You are so annoying, and you never understand when I try to hint to you that I want you to kiss me like crazy in the Volkswagen, and I can never understand anything you talk about, but I still listen because it’s important to you and because… because I can’t help falling in love with you!”

You gasped when he suddenly pulled you to him and slanted his full lips over yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself to him eagerly, the heat in the room seeming to rise a hundred degrees. You missed this. Missed how he could drive you crazy yet he was the only thing you ever seemed to need. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck, and you swore you were in heaven. And then you remembered where you were, who you were.

“Whoa!” he panted when you pushed him away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“We… we can’t do this, Pope.”

“But you just said you were falling in love with me. And I… I’m in love with you too.”

Tears formed in your eyes as your heart ripped into a million pieces in your chest. This couldn’t be happening.

“I do love you. And that’s why I have to stay away from you. The people here… they don’t like that I hang around you and the other boys. If we got together, it would only be a matter of time before they hurt you again.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t… don’t say that, Pope. I’m trying to save you!”

“I don’t want to be saved! I just want you!”

You shook your head and took a few more steps back to put more distance between you. To clear your head. You were making the right decision. You grabbed the towel full of ice and saw the first aid kit by the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you passed Pope. You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek and allowed a single tear to fall. “I wish things could be different.”

Then you moved past him and grabbed the little white box by the door. You took a deep breath to collect yourself, wiped any tears from your face, and squared your shoulders. When you stepped out those kitchen doors, you were no longer Pope’s y/n. You would be full Kook. And that’s how you were gonna stay until you could escape this island.

[purplellamanator]

Hi! I saw your list and that make me so excited. My request is ShinRan for Arranged or Foreign Thank you

Thanks so much for the ask anon!! I really enjoyed doing this one. Of course it got a little out of hand cause I have no self control so it is extremely long! Further in the story you’ll probably notice I had the other language being spoken as Japanese. I am not fluent and my knowledge of the language is very slim! Anything in the story was translated from google translate which I know is not a good source but if you notice the mistakes, I do apologize! Feel free to correct me and I will try to edit it as I go. Also, I know I say it every time but I am so sorry for the wait. I work in a pharmacy so as you can probably guess, work has been crazy during all of this covid stuff! I hope everybody is being safe and healthy and that even if it is such a small thing, that I can provide some decent entertainment for someone that is stuck in quarantine! Be safe y’all! Arranged~ Person A is royalty and has to wed. They choose Person B, and B is not happy about it

Foreign~ Person A and B have been arranged to marry to keep peace between their lands. Too bad Person B can't understand a lick of what their fiancé has to say

oOo

"It's the law."

Shinichi rolled his eyes before petulantly saying, "I thought you always said my word was law."

The old man sputtered, having his words twisted around. Finally his adviser waggled a finger at him. "Your father will not be pleased by this, Shinichi-kun!"

"Is he ever?" Shinichi shrugged uncaringly and reaching his blowing point, the adviser stormed from the room, almost knocking into the head guard as he made his leave.

Staring at where the old man had made an angry exit and back to the Prince, Hattori chuckled. "I take it you're still looking for a bride," he called casually as he entered the dining hall.

Shinichi snorted before rolling his eyes. Not bothering to acknowledge the guard, he slammed his elbow on the table and braced his chin in his palm.

"You know the more difficult you be, the longer and more painful this process will be," his friend said in a sing song voice.

Huffing, he still refused to move from his position. "I could care less how long this takes. If they're worried about that, then they should call this whole thing off."

Hattori actually full on laughed at that. "Yeah, you know that's never going to happen," he said, his lips still twitching from trying to contain his giggles.

The Prince frowned. Of course he knew that but he could always hope.

"Come on," Hattori baited as he sat himself on the armrest of the chair the Prince sat in. "What was wrong with the last one? She was pretty... Well endowed," his friend wiggled his eyebrows as his gaze shot to his chest playfully.

His friend was joking. They both knew that there was no way he'd ever settle on Princess Momiji. So spoiled, and her voice grated on his nerves. She was pretty all right but she was too aware of that fact and when she realized her womanly wiles would not work on him- she had tried them on his guard.

She was not his worst option by any means. At least she was the same age. Shinichi was not really a vain person and looks were by no means what he based his decision on, but he had no desire to marry someone that could be his mother.

"You're being too picky, Shin-chan," his actual mother griped. "Maybe I'll just choose for you."

His eyes had gone panicked at the threat. He could just imagine her choice. Bubbly, full of energy, never a quiet moment. Someone that was exactly like her. And he would sooner throw himself off his balcony then be forced to share a bed with someone like that.

There was one thing he would agree on. Shinichi was being picky. He had met just about every Princess that was eligible for marriage. And not one of them were what he wanted. None of them were all the same either. Some of them wanting as much to do with him as he wanted them. Which meant not at all. Others were all over him and he knew he would never get a moment's peace.

One thing they all had in common though- their kingdoms. Each one of them had their own laws; their own norms they needed to abide to. But for the most part, they were pretty similar to his own kingdom's and Shinichi didn't understand the point of marrying one of them when they had nothing new to offer his people.

His kingdom was not struggling. His people were flourishing; the society thriving. Which was likely why he had so many offers. Because his kingdom had so much to offer while theirs had nothing but a dowry at best. And he had no need for that. He had plenty of money. He had plenty of land.

Shinichi didn't know how to explain that- or rather he did, and everybody just didn't understand. It was out of complete desperation that he had finally made his choice however. After being summoned by the King- his father, he knew he had taken too long. If he didn't have someone in mind, then a bride would be chosen for him.

But as he stood in his father's study- staring angrily at the desk his father sat before as he practically got reprimanded, his eyes focused on the map that lay sprawled out.

"How about the kingdom in the northern islands?" The thought had hit him as he continued staring at the map- the little cluster of land that was out in the middle of the ocean.

"Northern Isles?" The King furrowed his brows before noticing his son's gaze and following it.

Shinichi could understand his father's trepidation. The Kingdom of the Islands wasn't necessarily their enemy, but they also weren't their allies. After the Great War, and the threat of other more powerful kingdoms showed their colors, they had resorted themselves to complete isolation. That being said, it was a practically unknown kingdom- an entirely other world just to the north of them.

"Getting a response- let alone a positive one, is not likely," his father still appeared confused. "That and we don't even know if they have someone that is eligible for a union with you."

The King caved however. He would send a messenger with their offer. But Shinichi had already been warned.

"If this falls through- I am choosing for you."

The threat made Shinichi sweat. Not that he didn't trust the King. He trusted him more than the Queen. It was just the idea of his choice being stripped away from him.

The plans did not fall through. The response was not quick nor was it immediate, but they had indeed responded. The only thing was, the Princess would not be leaving the islands. Not until he came to visit and presented himself formally.

And got an approval.

As promised, the King left the decision up to his son. So Shinichi packed his bags.

oOo

Though many had traveled to his kingdom in hopes of having their daughter cross his eye, this would be the first he actually had to leave his own land as a possible suitor. Not that it was unusual. It was actually quite odd that he hadn't been doing it that way. But what was more unusual was the amount of effort he was putting in. The amount of effort he was putting in on trying to woo a woman he had never met let alone seen.

Well, some didn't understand but he knew the King was able to figure it out easily.

A foreign land. A foreign kingdom. Foreign Princess. There was so much to be gained from that. Knowledge wise anyway. And since he was confident his kingdom didn't lack anything else, that's all he wanted. He didn't even care to know what the Princess looked like.

And there was so much to learn about this place. The moment they were in what was considered their waters, Shinichi could already feel it from the way the humid air just lifted. The days that he was used to in his kingdom were hot ones and sometimes even the nights. The sun was always out and blazing while there was hardly ever a rainy day to cool it down.

Here, as their ships pulled even closer, a fog seemed to surround them. But the waters were calm and the mist, relaxing. Thankfully they had no issues docking even though the fog was not something they were used to though according to his escort, was very much the norm here.

Shinichi was fascinated either way. He took in the architecture of the buildings, the way people dressed, the way people looked in general. It was so different to his own land and people. He was thankful that if anything, no matter how this meeting went, at least he had seen a place so refreshingly new. Honestly, he envies what their palace looked like and was amazed of how open it was. There were no guards and practically no doors. The buildings for the most part were without windows and if they had them, they were open wide.

And he realized, there was no fear for safety here. Everybody was so open and trusting and though he got quite a few bizarre stares, nobody looked at him in any way short of polite. Shinichi was fully amazed.

But the most baffling thing yet- he needed a translator.

"The Princess can not speak in your tongue."

Shinichi almost couldn't believe his ears. He wanted foreign but maybe this was a little too much. . . How could he marry someone that he couldn't even speak to without someone else standing there to translate for them? Of course he knew that she'd have to learn his language but . . . could he really make that work. . ?

Still, he came all this way. He would meet her. It would be rude to make such a bold offer and to just leave without a word. Not to mention his father would be furious with him and also. . . be picking his future bride if he came back alone.

Shinichi shivered at the thought.

But upon introduction, the way his breath stuttered and how he could practically feel a nervous blush crawling up his neck, was humiliating. That and his instantaneous thought.

He could make this work.

"Her highness, Princess Ran."

The translator was who pulled him out of whatever reverie he had been trapped in and hurriedly, he snapped his mouth shut after having realized it was slightly agape. Stumbling over himself, he quickly bowed his head forward in respect as well as gave a greeting that he could briefly hear being translated to both monarchs.

It was at the quick quip that the Princess replied back that had him looking up slightly from his still bowing position. Of course he didn't understand a word she said but from her tone. . . he could guess. Still, he found himself looking to the translator expectantly.

The man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh. . The Princess welcomes you and your guests. Says she prays you had a safe journey." His eyes were not meeting the Prince's as he spoke.

Yeah- that was definitely not what she said . . . Even now, she was glaring at him with such discontent till finally as if getting sick of looking at him, she looked away, turning her nose up.

Figures. The one Princess he thought he could actually tolerate and she wanted nothing to do with him.

oOo

After their initial meeting and at the refusal of his escort to translate anything the Princess actually said, dinner was a . . tense affair. The King and his wife were welcoming enough. Albeit they obviously didn't trust his intentions quite yet but they hadn't showed any outward malice like their daughter had. It also probably didn't help his image in their eyes if the Princess couldn't even bare to say something the slightest bit kind to him.

Even though it would all have to be said through his escort, Shinichi tried to begin any conversation with her. And each time the translator would look at him almost tired, as if asking if Shinichi were really going to make him try to talk to her again. Shinichi couldn't very well respond properly if he didn't know what she was actually saying to him. It was clear she didn't think highly of him and that the escort was merely trying to keep them cordial. He knew they were aware of how influential his kingdom was and it was clear he didn't want their Princess to risk making him angry with her disrespect. But he couldn't fix what he didn't know.

It was exhausting. And the language barrier was making it all the more frustrating. He was a full day in and had somehow angered the very woman he had basically already proposed to. Shinichi wanted to yell at the escort to cut the formalities- to just tell him what the Princess was saying. Before he could have the chance though, she was already spouting words that sounded as aggravated as she looked. The King responded in kind with the same amount of annoyance but this time, directed at his daughter.

Shinichi could only watch, lost.

The translator gave another uncomfortable cough. "The Princess is not feeling well. She apologizes, but she'd like to take her leave."

Shinichi was pretty sure she wasn't sorry at all but still, he nodded his head slowly while looking at her. "I hope she feels better."

If possible, she seemed even more angry with his response and in a huff, she was spinning out of her chair and exiting the dining hall.

Not long after that, they all excused themselves. Of course his escort showed him to his room. But Shinichi couldn't help but want to wander- though at the moment it may not of been a good idea. He was in foreign lands as it was and already things were tense between him and the Princess. He didn't want to aggravate the situation even more by offending their hospitality- though he'd say what the Princess showed him could hardly be called that.

That line of thinking lasted till he woke up early morning. He was usually a late sleeper but he figured due to the unknown environment, his body woke him up sooner than usual. And he sat in his designated room for about thirty minutes before he concluded that this wasn't going to work.

The Princess already showed she held no interest in his proposal- which was disappointing but there was nothing he could do to change that. The woman wouldn't even look at him unless she had to. So Shinichi figured he'd soak up this opportunity as much as possible for as long as he could. He was only invited to be here for a week, which would shorten if they gave him a response to his proposal earlier. He already had a feeling he'd be turned away so there was no use on dwelling about it or worrying if he'd upset her further. This was a new place for him- a new Kingdom. They spoke another language, held different customs. He would experience everything within his reach before he was forced to leave.

He was up, dressed, and wandering the palace halls in no time.

Again, he couldn't help but be struck by the beauty that went into the kingdom itself. Natural light flooded their halls but the fact there were no windows allowed the cool breeze from outside to flow through easily. Shinichi couldn't believe how . . . open everything was. Had they never had to deal with a threat before? To not even have guards walking around the halls- it amazed as well as reassured him. It was nice for once not to have someone breathing down his neck constantly.

This all was almost like a vacation. A vacation to get him a wife . . . but still-a vacation! He hadn't had one of those in . . well ever. The past few years had been his parents scrambling to get him engaged. As the days passed on, the scrambling got more hectic when they realized he was not making it easy.

But here, it was so open. For once he could experience a nice, sunny day without it being unbearably hot outside. And he had hardly got to experience the town when he arrived. He had been hurriedly rushed to the Palace but that was mostly by his guards wanting to get him somewhere secure. Now that no one was there however, he wondered to one of the larger windows.

He was not insane enough to take a leap from this high up but from this vantage point he could at least look upon what he had walked right by. And it was. . tiny. Not tiny in a bad way but compared to where he lived, the town was so small and quiet. And underdeveloped. But again- that wasn't in a bad way. It was fitting to the kingdom he was standing in. There were more trees and it was all colorful. There were even more animals which had him surprised. Again, his town was too large and noisy for anything to want to come close. And that was if he could ever see over the giant stone wall that served as a barrier between him and his people.

There was no barrier here. And he envied that.

Wind brushing his hair, the tree that was just beside the window finally caught his eye. Like everything else that was outside, it was so bright and full of color. It was filled with vibrant purple flowers that he definitely had never seen before. They were . . breathtaking. And he had never been one to care about such things but even he found his hand reaching out.

He wanted to take one. See if he could possibly press it into his journal to take back home. He had never seen any flower with such bright petals and he was curious if someone at home would be able to identify it for him. Someone he could ask without the use of that terrible translator.

Suddenly someone was yelling out. And from the way he was all alone, he could only assume it was directed at him. Before he could even look over though, his hand that had been leaning forward was roughly slapped and had him stumbling back in shock. Hand ringing from the sharp sting, it was probably funny how he stared at it- eyes wide and blinking.

No one had ever raised a hand to him.

Staring intently where he had been hit, he saw that it was already turning a scorching red and swelling. It honestly hadn't hurt. It was just startling. And finally looking at just who had hit him, he was even more stunned.

"Sorera ni furenaide kudasai!"

The Princess. She was yelling at him looking absolutely furious to the point tears were brimming her eyes. She was angry and that was all he could understand because he still couldn't speak her damn language. For her to slap him though he must've been about to do something awful.

Rubbing his sore hand, he glanced back at the flower he had been about to pluck and realized he had probably greatly offended her. Shinichi had been to other kingdoms where it was forbidden to remove anything from their land- places where they worshiped the actual ground they stood on and it was a crime to simply pull a flower off its branch. Foolishly he thought he'd been alone but he should've known that in a palace, there were eyes everywhere.

When he started rubbing the red flesh attempting to sooth away the sting she gave him, that must've been when she realized what she had done. Even for her it was wildishly outlandish of her to be so forward enough to hit him.

Her violet eyes got huge and she looked almost frightened. He noticed her swallow hard as if gulping before all he could see was the crown of her head, her pretty brunette hair sliding down her shoulders to hang low.

She was bowing. And saying the same thing over and over repeatedly.

"Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai!"

She was apologizing for hitting him. He didn't need to know exactly what she was saying to get that much. But honestly, he didn't even care that she did. His first instinct had told him he was the that should kneel and grovel. He was the one that was wondering around a foreign palace as a guest and with no regard to their laws or customs. Watching her panic though, he could only freeze up. He had not been expecting her to say sorry. She wasn't stopping though and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Uh. . R-Ran-?" Shinichi asked uneasily to get her attention. He did not know anything about her kingdom or their titles but he was sure if he used his own from his home she would've been confused. But he cut himself off when he realized that calling her by her first name alone definitely would've been offensive. That and her name sounded so odd on his tongue. Even with it not being his own language, he knew he sounded every bit the foreigner when he just said her name alone. It probably sounded as awkward as it felt for him to say it.

At his nervous call though, she definitely detected her name somewhere in there because she straightened abruptly to look at him with a red face.

"Don't apologize. I'm sorry," he said belatedly forgetting that she couldn't understand a word he said. When he could practically see the question mark on her face, he looked back at the flower pointedly before pressing his palms together in front of his face as if praying. "I'm sorry." He said that three times as she had done to hopefully get the meaning across as well as he bowed his head slightly.

When he finally looked her in the eye again, she was watching him intently; curiously. She was thinking about something, probably a way to speak where he could actually get what she was saying. She looked both troubled and frustrated that she couldn't properly communicate with him. To make it easier on him, he pointed back to the flower and everything else that was within his reach.

"I won't touch anything," he said firmly as he held his hands up in a defensive gesture. He assumed that's what she had been trying to tell him. That he was not allowed to touch anything that wasn't explicitly handed to him. But when she frowned he got the feeling he was wrong that or he had completely lost her.

Softly she said something, that of course, he could not understand. Her pointing finger at the flower he had just been about to touch gave him a clue though. That as well as why she actually stopped him earlier when she was taking that same pointing finger and dragging it across her neck in a straight horizontal line.

"Shi."

The very obvious and universal symbol for dead.

His eyes widened a bit at she continued to speak. If he hadn't just had the sudden realization he almost died from touching a flower, he would've found it amusing that her tone seemed kind of slow. As if not talking as fast would still help him comprehend another language. But again, he could guess. She was probably explaining what the flower was and how it would've killed him.

It made him frown because he really was curious. He would have to ask once she learned English. That and why did they have a flower that was so deadly, practically inside their palace walls where anybody could make his mistake.

Realizing his mind had already assumed and gotten used to the idea of her leaving with him to his home made him want to slap himself. There was no confirmation yet. If anything he'd probably get the opposite. It was hard not to think that though when she was looking at him for the first time without any malice or disdain. Sure it took him almost dying to get that, but at least it meant she didn't truly hate him. If anything she looked concerned.

That was when he realized her earlier expression of what he thought had been anger hadn't been that at all. It was similar to the one she was staring at him with now. It was panic- worry. Panic that he was that dumb and worried he almost touched a deadly plant. He almost died and wondered what his face looked like as he came to that conclusion.

He really wouldn't touch anything after this.

The Princess seemed to have other ideas. Suddenly she started speaking again and pointing out the window. The blank expression he gave her hopefully showed that he didn't understand but just in case he was sure to tell her that.

Looking outside where she was pointing, he looked back at her drawing a total blank. "I don't understand," he shook his head while shrugging. Hopefully they would be able to communicate through these small gestures. She'd have no way of knowing what he really said but she'd at least be able to guess.

Ran only grinned, probably expecting that. Alarming him, with a soft hand, she gently grabbed his own. His face immediately got a small blush but as he looked at her in shock he realized it wasn't nearly as crimson as her own. By the way it kept getting darker, he knew she was aware that he was watching her intently. She wouldn't look at him though and simply pulled him forward. Her tug wasn't forceful or hard though as her significantly tinier fingers latched onto his palm.

If he had been paying attention to anything but her pretty face, he would've noticed what she was doing a lot sooner. It wasn't till his fingers were brushing against something light and smooth that he looked away.

She had placed his palm on another plant. It was attached to some vines that seemed to coil around the window. This one looked simpler and not nearly as intriguing as the deathly one he had been about to grab, but it was something new all the same and was still able to fascinate him. But when she started rubbing his hand into the petals and in doing so rubbing her hand against his- he recoiled and snapped his hand out from under hers.

Face scorching, it was his turn to swallow in nervousness as he took a small step back. Though he knew she would not understand, he couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?" He didn't know if it was good or bad that she only stared up at him with the most innocent look. It was clear she didn't get why he pulled away. Was that normal to . . . touch people . . like that. . . ?

But then she was laughing and pressing her own palm into the leaves, rubbing her fingers delicately over the petals. When she was done, she stepped forward till she was almost chest to chest with him. Her proximity was starting to make him anxious again but she didn't seem to be as affected. Before he could attempt to move back, she was holding her hands up to him, palms facing upward.

Confused, he didn't really know what to do. Was she asking him to kiss her hand like that snob Princess Momiji? But then she was shoving her fingers forward, as if telling him to hurry up. She kept nudging her head giving him the go ahead sign but it was only when her palm was just under his nose that he understood.

Forgetting his nervousness for a moment, he leaned down slightly towards her awaiting hands. Curiously, he sniffed the tops of her fingers.

His eyes shot open.

"Vanilla?" He questioned completely surprised and also completely forgetting she probably wouldn't understand.

But surprising him, she nodded her head happily. "Banira!" She had a happy smile spread across her face.

Well at least they both understood one word.

Proving his earlier assumptions wrong though, not wasting a second she broke the flower from its tangled vine and held it out to him expectantly. Since he had been thinking it was a crime for him to take such a thing, he only stared at it suspiciously. But her hand shoving closer to him forced him to grab it.

She must've realized he wanted to take one. Twirling the flower by the stem, he looked at it before flicking his gaze back to her. "It's pretty," he complimented to the gift she gave him.

The Princess's head was tilting to the side again in her confusion. "P-pretty. . . ?" Her voice stumbled over the word uncomfortably; her accent twisting it cutely.

Shinichi nodded before nudging his head at her. "Pretty," he said addressing her like an example of the meaning before looking at the flower again. "Pretty," he repeated.

She wasn't getting it. Her brows scrunched as a small frown turned down her lips. But as far as he was concerned it wasn't important to address any of that. Especially if it would be embarrassing for him the moment she did understand. Instead he thanked her for her gift, sticking to his charades to hopefully get their meaning across.

oOo

After his brief and almost fatal exploration, she was kind and escorted him to the dining hall where they could be served breakfast. The moment he was in sight, the translator had been attached to him, almost panicking and wondering where he had been for the entire morning.

Shinichi was never one to lie. He was upfront and explained that he had walked around. Of course he left out the part where the Princess slapped him and just . . . the Princess in general. When they had started talking, he hadn't even been thinking.

It was incredibly offensive to just be walking around alone with a Princess- especially one you had proposed to. They were both unaccompanied and since he didn't know their customs very well, it would probably be best to assume that that was the same no matter what kingdom he journeyed to. As way of excuse for walking in with her, he explained that they had run into each other just outside the door. The translator didn't seem to care to question it and wanting to get further away from the topic, he asked to be shown a tour.

His escort knew a lot, Shinichi could tell. But the man mostly seemed focused on explaining their laws. Some of their customs were bizarre. They had . . female guards. It wasn't unheard of for a woman to want to become a knight in his kingdom but it seldom ever happened. They didn't grow up with the same league and in most cases, fell behind and became outclassed. Here, it seemed it may have almost been the opposite.

"The Princess took some lessons herself," the translator boasted proudly and Shinichi's brows raised further. It was odd enough for a woman to do such things but a Princess?  But now that the topic had reverted to Ran, he became curious.

"Princess Ran," he started slowly while looking at his feet as he trailed along beside his escort. "Why does she dislike me so much?" He knew it was bold of him to ask such a question so outright but he didn't know how else to get a straight answer. The Princess herself would probably tell him if she could but with their language barrier that obviously wasn't a possibility.

Like he knew it would, the subject made the translator uncomfortable. He did not want to address this topic and Shinichi was pretty sure it was because he didn't want to upset nor offend another monarch from another kingdom. The Prince didn't say anything however and simply waited for a response.

When he thought he wouldn't be getting an answer and that the translator looked like he wanted to claim he himself couldn't understand, the man sighed in defeat. "She doesn't like how . . . popular you are," his escort said a little unsurely.

Shinichi's brows raised. That had not been what he was expecting and he was honestly confused by the response. They were royalty. Weren't they all popular in their own right?

The translator winced. "That wasn't the best way to say that. You must understand your language is not my first," he apologized. "It's not you necessarily that she doesn't like. It's what your kingdom represents."

He still wasn't following. His face must've shown that because the older man looked troubled trying to think of the vocabulary to get his point across.

"Your kingdom is known far and wide, Prince. Even in our isolated state we knew of you. Her being an eligible maiden, our King was also aware you were looking for a bride."

"So she does not want to be married . . . ?" Shinichi questioned doing his best to understand.

"The Princess does not want to change," the man clarified. "She knows that if she were to marry you, she would have to leave with you; not meaning just her home. She would have to abandon her customs, her laws- her language."

Suddenly it all made sense to him. And all at once he felt like a jerk. But at the same time, he also felt like he was extremely misunderstood. He had no intention of forcing her to conform. He had no desire to change her. Yes, if they were to be wed, she'd have to learn the language of his home. But that didn't mean he wanted to completely eradicate her own. Because if they were married, it would no longer be just his home or her home. It would be their home.

Maybe his intentions hadn't been clear enough.

When he happened to find her alone again, he came at her like an explosion.

"I don't want you to change!" His voice was raised and he probably looked angry. It wasn't at all surprising that she took a step back. He was probably scaring her. But he took the same step forward and noticing she had a book in her hands, he pulled it from her without even thinking.

She gave a startled gasp but did not fight him. Again, she looked like she wanted to put some distance between them. But he wouldn't allow her to. Much like she had done to him yesterday, he snatched her hand into his own and tugged her closer.

He wasn't thinking clearly. If he had been he would’ve stopped the moment he heard her small yelp but he just wanted her to understand him. She thought wrongly of him and he wanted to correct that image of him. He wanted to change the incorrect assumptions she created about him.

Taking her palm that was latched in his own, he forced her fingers onto the page that was wide open; the page she had been reading before he rudely bombarded her. "Teach me," he said completely serious, his eyes staring into hers intently. "I want to learn."

He knew she was probably still freaked out and had no idea what he was saying. She probably thought he was losing his mind, which he very well might be. He just snatched a book she had been reading and started yelling at her in a language she could not understand.

But when she finally glanced up to meet his gaze, his breath hitched. She had been staring bizarrely at where he had forced her hand, but once she was looking at him directly, she didn't look frightened anymore. She looked incredulous and still a little unsure.

"Your language," he reiterated slowly while also pantomiming and gesturing to the writing that was very clearly in a language he could not discern- her language. Then he was pointing at his chest that was heaving from how worked up he had gotten. "I want to learn."

[phantomofthepairofdice]

The Rosscars 2020

Wow. It’s that time of year again, only this time it’s different because it’s on a blog that no one will read! (hold for applause) Welcome to the first annual online publication for the Rosscars (hold for applause while the reader acknowledges how positively droll it is that I combined my name with “Oscars”). Who can forget such indelible Rosscar memories like when Steven Soderbergh surprised us all and won Best Director for Out of Sight or Bill Irwin’s beautiful speech upon winning Best Supporting Actor for Rachel Getting Married?! The Rosscars mean something different to everyone, but we all know that they mean quality choices made by a committee of one schmuck. This year’s Rosscars are bizarre because in an effort to be more like the Academy guidelines, film’s nominated have been released between January 1, 2020 and February 28, 2021. As usual, theatrical windows be damned, streamers are welcome. Of course, I have my gripes. I like categorizing movies by release year – specifically, when they become available to the plain old public like yours truly – not at festivals, limited runs in NYC and LA. Well, the Oscars are still weeks away and I feel like everybody wants to forget about last year and move onto this one that we’re already three months into - So here are my awards for the films, performers, and craftspeople that stood out in a pretty exceptional year for movies even though distribution was stranger than ever. 

**A few caveats and guidelines to Rosscar newcomers (which I imagine is just a formality since we all know the Rosscars so well)**

The rules and categories are a little different around here. First, not every category is honored directly. That’s for a few reasons, chiefly that I don’t feel qualified to reward the technical categories properly – I suppose I should say that I feel less qualified to do so than the “above the line” categories. In keeping with the Academy standard, there are five nominees in each category, except for Best Picture, Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature, and Best Ensemble Cast which allow up to ten. Every category, save those three, will have the possibility of honorable mentions, because I want to highlight some things that just barely missed the cut. The narrowing down of a lot of these categories was awfully tough.

Nominees are listed alphabetically, and the winners are in bold and italics.

Also, it’s important to keep in mind that I couldn’t see everything (this isn’t a job and it’s still $20 to rent The Father, y’all) and that these are just the opinions of one (self-described) “bozo on the internet.” If you’re a reader and have different picks, feel free to share!

Special Commendations for some things that I want to recognize: • Ludwig Goransson for his Tenet score which is an absolute banger • The costumes of Emma. (Alexandra Byrne), Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Ann Roth), and Small Axe (Jaqueline Durran, Sinéad Kidao, and Lisa Duncan) all struck me as exceptional • Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross with their scores for both Soul and Mank. Crazy that Pixar is working with the guy who made “Closer” • The cinematography of Da 5 Bloods (Newton Thomas Sigel), First Cow (Christopher Blauvelt), Beanpole (Kseniya Sereda), and A White, White Day (Maria von Hausswolff)

The Rosscars red carpet was, as usual, a bizarre affair. People filed into the theater and it seemed like the only encounters were awkward ones. Vin Diesel showed up in character as Bloodshot, Aaron Sorkin started getting really verbose about what a lovely night it was, and it became clear that most of the celebrities in attendance didn’t read their invitations closely enough to realize that this was not, in fact, the Academy Awards.

Everyone’s seated, and the show is under way. After a medley about the nominees this year by Common and Seth McFarlane that was more corny but clever than it was funny, the first official category is here, and the presenter is none other than... Ross!

Best Supporting Actor:

1. Chadwick Boseman for Da 5 Bloods

2. Matthew Macfadyen for The Assistant

3. Jesse Plemmons for Judas and the Black Messiah

4. Paul Raci for Sound of Metal

5. Glynn Turman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Honorable Mentions:

• Lucas Hedges for Let Them All Talk

• Orion Lee for First Cow

• Bill Murray for On the Rocks

Best Supporting Actress:

1. Vanessa Bayer for Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

2. Candice Bergen for Let Them All Talk

3. Gina Rodriguez for Kajillionaire

4. Amanda Seyfried for Mank

5. Yuon Yuh-jung for Minari

Honorable Mentions:

• Jane Adams for She Dies Tomorrow

• Charin Alvarez for Saint Frances

• Talia Ryder for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Debra Winger for Kajillionaire

Everyone loves a montage. The audience gets comfortable in their seats as the video screens start to show a montage of some of the most famous moments from Hollywood’s most magical movies. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers waltz, gliding across a dance floor like two hovering angels. There’s a clip of Leo declaring himself king of the world in Titanic, the flying bicycles in ET, Bogart stares longingly into Bacall’s eyes, and then there’s some scene where Tom Cruise rides a motorcycle from 2010′s Knight and Day. The audience all seems confused how that last one got in there. The John Williams music swells as little Kevin McAllister screams when puts on aftershave. We see clips of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver, Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia embrace Harrison Ford’s Han Solo, Bruce Lee smoothly declares that boards don’t hit back and... wait... was that a clip from Michel Gondry’s Green Hornet with Seth Rogen? And that’s a clip from What Happens in Vegas... Bad Teacher... Vanilla Sky... Shrek 2... Any Given Sunday... Everyone is flummoxed. The last clip fades out and a sole editing credit appears: Cameron Diaz. The lights come up and there’s some applause, but mostly confused murmurs. 

The ceremony has had a bit of a misstep, but nothing it can’t recover from, especially as the next category is announced over the PA, and it looks like the presenter is... Ross!

Best Ensemble Cast:

1. Bacurau

2. Da 5 Bloods 

3. Kajillionaire

4. Let Them All Talk

5. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

6. Minari

7. Nomadland

8. Pieces of a Woman

9. Small Axe

Best Original Screenplay:

1. Danny Bilson and Paul Dameo & Spike Lee and Kevin Wilmott for Da 5 Bloods

2. Lee Isaac Chung for Minari

3. Brandon Cronenberg for Possessor

4. Sean Durkin for The Nest

5. Kleber Mendonça Filho and Juliano Dornelles for Bacurau

Honorable Mentions – a very difficult task to weed this down to five.

• Shaka King and Will Berson for Judas and the Black Messiah, from a story by Kenny and Keith Lucas

• Steve McQueen, Alastair Siddons, and Courttia Newland for Small Axe

• Kelly O'Sullivan for Saint Frances

• Thomas Vinterberg and Tobias Lindholm for Another Round

Best Actor:

1. Ben Affleck for The Way Back

2. Chadwick Boseman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

3. Delroy Lindo for Da 5 Bloods

4. John Magaro for First Cow

5. Mads Mikkelsen for Another Round

Honorable Mentions:

• Riz Ahmed for Sound of Metal

• John Boyega for Small Axe

• Daniel Kaluuya for Judas and the Black Messiah

• Hugh Jackman for Bad Education

• Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson for A White, White Day

We have a break in the action and it looks like Darius Rucker has showed up to perform what he would have nominated for Best Original Song. The crowd is absolutely furious as he starts playing a song that apparently was in Trial of the Chicago Seven. An ocean of sonorous boos and curses overtakes the the once docile crowd. The Rock just ripped his chair from out of the ground. Jane Lynch somehow smuggled in a civil war era flintlock pistol that she’s now pointing at the stage! Suddenly, the crowd unifies around what started as a confident chant of one lone audience member - John C Reilly. It’s growing... Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong - it’s like the macabre circus performers from Tod Browning’s Freaks, but instead of chanting “Gooble Gobble” they’re clearly pining for Darius to change his tune to the silly and delightful jam from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. Darius, scared for his life, leaves the stage, but here come Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams to deliver the goods. Busy Philips and Michelle Williams burst into tears. Tom Hanks nods in approval. A segment saved by brave artists placating a toxic group of fans... we’ve just witnessed a live version of the Snyder Cut, folks.

Jack Nicholson seems completely unfazed, giving a thumbs up to the camera and blowing a kiss to the next presenter. Coming to the stage is... Ross... again...

Best Actress:

1. Jessie Buckley for i’m thinking of ending things

2. Carrie Coon for The Nest

3. Han Ye-ri for Minari

4. Sidney Flanagan for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

5. Vasilisa Perelygina for Beanpole

Honorable Mentions – these cuts were especially painful

• Haley Bennet for Swallow

• Morfydd Clark for Saint Maud

• Frances McDormand for Nomadland

• Christin Milioti for Palm Springs

• Geraldine Viswanathan for Bad Education

Best Adapted Screenplay:

1. Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things from Iain Reed's novel

2. Sarah Gubbins for Shirley from Susan Scarf Merrell's novel

3. Kelly Reichardt and John Raymond for First Cow

4. Simon Rich for American Pickle from his short story "Sell Out"

5. Mike Makowsky for Bad Education from Robert Kolker's "The Bad Superintendent"

Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature:

1. Boys State

2. Collective

3. David Byrne’s American Utopia

4. Dick Johnson is Dead

5. Feels Good Man

6. In & Of Itself

7. The Painter and the Thief

8. Time

Jimmy Fallon has come out on stage to do a bit about the pandemic and watching movies at home. People are just absolutely not having it. He tries not to laugh at his own jokes while doing what I guess is technically a pretty good impression of Dr. Fauci interviewing James Corden as Martin Scorsese (the less said of this impression, the better) on what is or isn’t cinema. The bit doesn’t track and Fallon is absolutely tanking. The producers cut away from the stage to spare the viewers at home from this monstrosity. We see crowd shots of Millie Bobby Brown shaking her head in dismay, Colin Firth is simultaneously grimacing and trying to stave off laughter, Cynthia Erivo is texting, and director Tom Hooper is taking notes for his next film. Corden yells, “Carpool Karaoke! Remember?!” Ron Howard has fainted. This thing is almost completely off the rails.

Coming back to the stage is the next presenter, a clearly embarrassed... Ross! He’s in a total flop sweat, but stumbles his way through a joke about how Fallon should try co-hosting the Oscars with James Franco sometime. There are scant chuckles throughout a crowd that mostly just wants to see who won and go home.

Best Director:

1. Christopher Nolan for Tenet

2. Spike Lee for Da 5 Bloods

3. Steve McQueen for Small Axe

4. Kelly Reichardt for First Cow

5. Chloé Zhao for Nomadland

Honorable Mentions:

• Kitty Green for The Assistant

• Eliza Hittman for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things

• Thomas Vinterberg for Another Round

Best Picture

1. Bacurau

2. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

3. Da 5 Bloods

4. First Cow

5. i'm thinking of ending things

6. Judas and the Black Messiah

7. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

8. Nomadland

9. Small Axe

10. Tenet

Accepting the award for best picture is none other than Eve, the cow actor who played the titular First Cow! The audience is enamored with how graceful she looks in her cow gown, and her speech, though indecipherable, is likely simple, observational, and deeply profound for those who speak cow.

Wow, what a ceremony! Hearts were broken, property was damaged, dreams were fulfilled... blood was shed? Damn it, Meryl Streep came in and mugged Charlie Kaufman before absconding with the trophy. Oddly, she’s a previous winner, so the attack isn’t out of need for hardware. People are reading through articles about production on Adaptation for potential motives. Streep made time for a photo opportunity, but remains at large.

I could go on ad infinitum about all of these nominees and winners themselves and why they did or didn’t make the cut, but that’d be better served in a different piece. For now, my thoughts on most of these can be found on the Best of 2020 write-up and over on my Letterboxd. And, as always, these awards can be revoked and redistributed at will, so don’t get too cozy with that statue, Danny Bilson!

On behalf of the RAOGL (Rosscars Association of One Guy at a Laptop), thanks for reading, and stay tuned as we’re establishing a tip line for anyone has seen Ms. Streep or her stolen valor Rosscar. We’ll see you next year. Keep watching movies, and keep arbitrarily quantifying them in terms of subjective quality!

[dashesofink]

The Expected Meeting

Pairings: slight Kili x Ianthe (my oc)

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: none

A/N: so I finally decided to post my oc story on here, especially after thinking about it a lot during my hiatus. Quick disclaimer that she is clearly a made up character in this world, and everything related to her is mostly made up. Hopefully I’ll be incorporating her into my writing more, especially if y’all like her. Please let me know!! Also this has sat in my drafts for a very long time, please ignore the typos :)) Also I’ll be posting an update in regard to The Speaker soon, so if y’all have forgotten about that keep looking forward too it!!

Taglist: @legolaslovely @t00-many-th0ughts @fizzyxcustard

Ianthe wasn’t expecting to have her nap time interrupted by a loud banging against her cottage door. But alas, her groans filled her bedroom as the knocking continued. “Alright, I’m coming!” She knew that if her father hadn’t already answered the door then he was probably out tending to the gardens, or if not that, then he was out in the main court having a meeting. As she threw her legs over the bed she stretched her arms over her head, a satisfied moan falling past her chapped lips when the bones in her back cracked and settled again. Ianthe was sure that the few framed photos on the wail were now on the floor due to the incessant banging. Much to her surprise though, as she exited her room and scurried to the front door, everything was still in place.

“What in Mitéra Gi’s name is— oh, hello.”

Ianthe felt a deep blush settle on her freckled cheeks as she craned her neck, her bright eyes locking with her new company. A grey pointed hat sat on top of a long mane of grey hair, and hidden beneath the rim of the old hat was a familiar face, one that Ianthe and the other Mages in her rank knew very well. “Gandalf, it is quite a surprise to see you here!” Ianthe’s lips spread into a smile as she stepped aside, allowing the tall wizard to enter. Gandalf gave a small hum as he removed his hat before stepping inside. “Would you like some tea? I’m sure we have some of your favorite lying around somewhere.”

“That’s quite alright, thank you my dear.” Gandalf gave a chuckle when Ianthe’s round cheeks raised, her lips pulled into another dazzling smile. He watched as the young mage hurried into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Gandalf always did like the company of Mages; such a hospitable race who had a wonderful knack for making the most marvelous tea and cakes. But snacking on sweets and tea wasn’t the only reason he came to visit the Mages on that afternoon. “Ianthe,” Gandalf called, his keen old eyes dancing around the little cottage. “is your father around?” The cottage remained silent for a moment as Ianthe worked on the refreshments. Gandalf took this opportunity to survey the household once more, his gaze falling from an overfilled bookshelf to the small umbrella stand that held a few staffs before his eyes landed on a little wooden box. A box which could barely contain the glowing light of two small gems. Gandalf chuckled at the odd placement for the gems.

The silence lingered for a moment longer before Ianthe responded, and she reentered the room with a small tray filled with cakes, cookies and some freshly brewed tea before letting out a small hum. “I believe he’s tending to the garden.” She dusted her hands off after placing the tray on to a small table. Ianthe smiled up at the wizard as he snatched a cake and a cup of tea, her hands now resting upon her plump hips. “If not then he might be in a meeting. May I ask why, mister Gandalf?”

Curiosity filled the eyes of the young mage. She watched as he ate away at his snacks for a minute, his lips drinking down the sweet tasting tea before he finally spoke. “I have a proposition for you, Ianthe.” The aura in the room shifted from one of joy and merriness to a solemn one after his words. Ianthe’s lips formed a small frown and her eyes shifted from one side of the room to the other. The little cottage creaked and groaned as the ground under their feet shifted, and Gandalf gave the young mage a knowing look when he saw a faint yellow glow form in her eyes. “Please, my dear, it’s nothing to get worried about.”

When Gandalf’s hand touched Ianthe’s shoulders the groaning stopped after her eyes shifted back to their usual blue ones. She twisted the silver rings around her thick fingers as she peered up to the wizard and her feet padded lightly against the stone floor as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Then what is it about, Gandalf?”

The old wizard took another sip of his tea before clearing his throat, his cup hitting the tray with a small clang as he set it down. “How would you feel about joining me on an adventure?” The thought of exploring the world again caused a surge of excitement to course through Ianthe’s body. Her lips pulled up in a large grin and she bounced up and down almost instantly. “Please, now, don’t get to excited. You don’t even—“

“Oh Gandalf, I can’t help but get excited!” Ianthe’s glee filled laughter echoed throughout the small cottage. Her body was buzzing with joy as she danced around the room, her hands stretched high above her head. Her brown hair danced around her shoulders and slapped her in the face as she whirled around, just the thought of getting out into the world again made her feel like she was flying. “I haven’t explored the world in ages! And here you come, saying that you'd like me to join you on an adventure?! It’s a dream come true!” Gandalf was quick to grab her by the shoulders as she danced passed him, his eyes shining with amusement as he tried to hold the young mage still. “Oh please, tell me; when can we leave?”

“You don’t even know what this adventure is about, Ianthe.” Gandalf gave the girl a knowing look. Ianthe tried her hardest to contain her glee, her teeth biting down on her lips as she gave him a quick nod to continue. “Now, I’m sure that you are aware of a dwarf named Thorin—“

“—Oakenshield, yes! Father told me about him!”

“Good.” Gandalf nodded in approval at the Mages words. He made a mental note to speak with the Elder Osier before departing from the Mages again. “The time has come for the dwarves to reclaim Erebor, Ianthe. Thorin Oakenshield is gathering a group of dwarves to join him on this quest— to take back their mountain from the dragon Smaug— and he has asked me to find a guide, as well as a protector, for his company.” Ianthe’s eyes blew wide as he explained the purpose of his adventure, her mouth parting with awe when he told her of the dwarves quest. Ianthe could only recall one time in her life where she had met a dwarf, but that was nearly sixty years before, and she was still a young and impressionable mage. However she would happily interact with more if it meant exploring the world again. “Would you be willing to join Thorin Oakenshield’s company as a guide to Erebor?”

“Me?” Ianthe couldn’t believe her little ears. It had been long since she wandered the lands last. Despite her rank of Mages being a wandering rank, the Elder— her father— had decided it was time for them to find another forest and rest. That was nearly two decades ago. The longer Ianthe stayed put in her village the more her bones ached to be out in the world again. Her excitement, however, slowly dwindled upon realizing something; what would her father say. Being an Elder meant that anything that was to happen inside or outside of the rank was to be approved by him first. And being an elderms daughter was no exception. “What of my father?”

“He will approve.” Gandalf gave Ianthe a reassuring nod, his fingers squeezing her shoulders before he let go of her. Ianthe chose to ignore his choice of words. Her smile appeared again, and it seemed that the air in the room grew light when she laughed a joyous laugh. “A meeting has been set for the end of this week. Do you know your way to the Shire, more importantly Bag-End?”

“The Shire…” Ianthe’s eyes darted around the room as she thought. It had been years since she had heard of the little area, her mind drawing a sudden blanket before she squeezed her eyes shut. Gandalf watched silently as the mage tried to remember, his eyes catching the veins popping out on her temple before she let out a cheer and opened her eyes again. “Oh yes, the Shire! We visited that area almost thirty years ago!”

“Wonderful.” Gandalf gave a single hum of approval before he turned away. Almost as if a dog was nipping at his heels, Gandalf made for the door after grabbing his hat, but not before snagging a few more sweets off of the tray. Ianthe followed close behind him as he exited the cottage, her bare toes just stopping at the grassy lawn in front of her. “I would suggest you prepare your things quickly,” He added over his shoulder, turning suddenly to the left in search of the Elder. “You must be there before the meeting ends. A mark will be on the door, a blue rune.”

Ianthe nodded along to Gandalf’s instructions. She watched as the wizard paused before turning back, a small smile pulling up his lips when he caught the twinkle in her eye. “We’ll be expecting you, dear Ianthe; don’t be late.”

“Never! I will see you then, old friend!” Ianthe pressed against her toes as she waved, watching as the wizard disappeared behind a few cottages before she turned back to her home. She couldn’t contain her excitement anymore, a loud laugh echoing against the wooden walls as she closed the door. Her body was buzzing as she bounded for her home, her hands fidgeting with the lock on her chest before she yanked it open to grab a large pack. Her once tidy room soon became a mess as she stuff her things into her pack. An assortment of spell-books and herbs were shoved inside the heavy-duty bag, followed by some random clothing and a small vile of deep blue liquid that oozed of a sweet smell. She paused for a moment to suck in a deep breath, her hands falling on to the top of her chest as another small laugh feel from her lips.

Ianthe couldn’t believe that she would actually be exploring the world again. She couldn’t seem to remember the last time her eyes fell upon the ever-green forests that grew through the vast lands, or the grey, steeping mountains that added a wonderful texture and feel to the earth. She could feel her magic surge through her body at the thought. How she longed to breathe the crisp mountain air, or to run her fingers along the rough bark of trees she hadn’t seen in ages. “Focus, Ianthe.” The Mages gave her freckled cheeks a small tap before she shook her head, the large grin on her face never leaving as she once again began to pack for her adventure.

The closer that Ianthe got to Bag-End the more her nerves began to talk to her. It had been nearly four days since she departed from her village, her old green cloak wrapped securely around her shoulders and her heavy pack resting against her back. The staff in her hands was old yet sturdy, weaving branches holding a single stone of greens and blues shining against the moonlight that lit her path. Despite her anxiety Ianthe hummed a small spritely tune, one that her father had sung to her as a young mage. A sad smile grew in her lips at the thought of her father. Before she had left the village and her rank of Mages Ianthe had to make sure that her father knew of her quest. But Gandalf had beaten her too it.

Ianthe remembered the way her father's face grew solemn and the wrinkles that lined his face deepened when she met him again that day. Her heart clenched and she reached out for him, pulling him into an embrace. It was then that she decided against going; Gandalf would have to find some other mage to guide the dwarves to Erebor. Ianthe couldn’t just leave her father. It was true that the Elders had their advisors and warriors to watch over him, but Ianthe was his daughter, his family. She couldn’t just up and leave the one who had cared for her and raised her because she wanted to explore again. At the mention of her deciding against going, much to Ianthe’s surprise, her father’s frown seemed to grow.

He knew how restless she was becoming and how she longed to be out in the world again. Osier would miss his daughter, yes. But he knew that she would be of better use to the dwarves then she would be in the rank. “Go. Explore the world and see what it offers you once again.”

“But father—“

“I will be fine.”

Ianthe shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the negative thoughts as she came to a short stop. The grip she hand on her staff tightened as her eyes looked over the horizon of the Shire. Many of the Hobbit were asleep by now, dark tendrils of smoke climbing out of their chimneys as their hearth kept their little homes warm. Fireflies danced across the many gardens and fields that literally the Shire, making it appear that stars had fallen from the sky and were twinkling over the land. The peaceful sight brought a smile to Ianthe’s face again, and she sucked in a deep breath before continuing on her journey. The moon was high in the sky, and she was sure that she had missed the supper that her company’s host had probably provided for them. But that didn’t matter. She had an apple or two in her pack. That would keep her satisfied until morning.

For the time she spent wandering through the Shire in search of her host’s home, Ianthe’s humming hung in the air like pillowy clouds. However despite her cheery tune and chipper smile, her feet ached from her long journey and though her magic had been revitalized from her weaving in and out of the forests and hills, her body longed for rest. Lucky seemed to be on Ianthe’s side though. She felt herself relax and the tension in her shoulders disappear little by little when she saw a glowing rune stand out against a green door. Her lips twitched as she neared the hobbit-hole. Finally. She found herself thinking, her feet suddenly carrying her and her heavy pack quicker to the entrance of the hole.

Ianthe found herself taking the steps that led to the door in twos, and if it wasn’t for the staff in her hand she would’ve fallen against the green door. She smiled down at the familiar rune before she looked to the shiny round doorknob. If his front garden and flowers were kept so pristine and healthy looking then surely the inside of his house looked just was clean. Despite the excitement that was buzzing around in her body again Ianthe found herself hesitating, her curled fist just brushing the wood of the round door. Her bright eyes looked to the ground for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together before she reached up and tugged her hood over head. The rim of her hood just reached the bottom of her eyes, leaving her freckled nose and pink lips visible.

“Just knock.” Ianthe found herself gripping her staff tightly with both hands. Her nerves were chewing at her gut, and her hands tingled for a moment, a familiar surge of magic running through them as her anxiety spiked. “Knock and get it over with.” Gathering as much courage as she could Ianthe slammed the top of her staff into the wooden door, the sound of stone and wood hitting each other drawing whatever heated conversations were being held in the hobbit hole to a sudden stop. Ianthe made sure to keep her eyes hidden when the door opened a few seconds later, a hobbit with curly brown hair and an irritated look on his face popping into her view.

“Oh,” His eyes blew wide upon taking in her appearance. “Y-you’re not a dwarf.”

Ianthe chuckled at the hobbits comment, her hood bouncing a bit when she shook her head in reply. She remained silent as the hobbit stood aside to let her in, and she made sure to brush her boots off on the mat before stepping on to his wooden flooring. A warmth spread through Ianthe as she looked around the homely hole, her eyes dancing between mud-stained rug and the beautiful arched doorways before she found herself looking back to the hobbit. He was staring up at her in awe, his lips parted. Ianthe chuckled at the sight, the sound knocking the hobbit out of his trance before he shook his head.

“Oh goodness, where are my manners!” The hobbit scolded himself, and looking back to his new guest he gave a small bow. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service, Miss…”

“Ianthe.” She finally introduced herself. The mage watched as the hobbit tried speaking her name, a small smile forming on his lips when he watched her nod encouragingly. Ianthe found her eyes wander around Bilbo’s home again, however this time she was drawn towards a warm light that seemed to be coming from the dining area. Bilbo must’ve seen the curiosity that ran through her, as her nose twitched ever-so-slightly when she turned in that direction.

“Everyone’s already in there.” He spoke from besides her, peering up to look at her for a second before his gaze darted elsewhere. “Gandalf said you would be arriving around this time.”

Ianthe chuckled at the comment, and she gave a small nod before heading towards the dining area. The tap of her staff and the click of her boots against the floor alerted the dwarves in the room of her coming, and Gandalf let out a small chuckle before pushing himself to stand. “And here I thought you decided against coming.” He spoke clearly, gaining the attention of each dwarf as he looked to the doorway. When Ianthe stepped into the light the company froze, each dwarf looking to this new member with a mixture of curiosity and slight contempt.

“And miss seeing the world again?” Ianthe quirked an eyebrow when she saw the dwarves flinch at her voice, but she brushed their reactions off as she turned her focus to Gandalf. “Never.”

“A woman?” Ianthe felt her blood freeze when a biting voice broke through the air, her eyes immediately landing on the brooding figure at the head of the table. Grey strands mixed together with deep raven hair that flowed effortlessly down the back of this dwarf, his deep blue eyes piercing into her as he looked between the wizard and herself. Ianthe could feel the tension in the room build the longer he glared at her, and for a second her confidence faltered, the grip on her staff tightening. “You’ve chosen a woman to be our guide?”

Gandalf breathed heavily out of his nose when he saw Ianthe shrink into a small corner, the shadows seeming to eat her up. He felt a surge of anger run through him when he looked back to the dwarf who had spoken, his eyes blazing. “You trusted me to find the only person who could guide your company safely to Erebor, Thorin.” Ianthe’s eyes widened at the name, and she found herself glancing between the wizard and the dwarf a couple of times before she settled her gaze upon Thorin. The dwarf in question let out a low growl, his eyes only dancing over to her small figure again before he went to challenge Gandalf. “She is as good as a guide as any mage I know.”

“No. I refuse to let any woman— a girl, no less— be apart of this company.”

“Thorin please be reasonable, you will need her more than you—“

“We do not need some girl on this quest, Gandalf.” Thorin’s tone was biting, his thick eyebrows casting a shadow over his blue eyes. The Dwarven leader looked between the old wizard and the girl in question, her bright eyes and freckled nose remaining hidden under her hood for the time being. He sized the girl up, looking between the old boots laced on her feet to the dark green cloak clasped around her shoulders. The fabric nearly brushed the ground, dirt stains and holes lining the edge as if being trampled on one to many times. Thorin looked back to her hands that were laced together in front of her, his eyes narrowing at the smooth skin of her fingers and the few silver rings that sat around them. Those weren’t the hands of a warrior.

The girl watched quietly as her old friend and the Dwarven leader argued, seemingly forgetting that she was present. She knew from stories that her father had told her that dwarves were stubborn in their ways, not really willing to open up to others outside of their kin. But man, did she underestimate what he meant. Thorin’s tongue was sharp, his words aiming to kill and dishearten the mage from wanting to join his quest. But she had made a promise to her father, a promise to go out into the world and protect those who needed it. And the dwarves needed it, she could tell. Her eyes surveyed the room of dwarves in front of her, taking in the wary looks they cast her way and the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on them from their journey to the Shire. She frowned at this, her eyes casting to the ground before she sucked in a deep breath.

“If I may interject, Master Oakenshield.” The room of dwarves froze again when her smooth, accented voice sounded out. Everyone turned when the girl finally stepped into the light again, her fingers pulling back the edge of her hood to finally reveal her face. Her blue eyes were piercing as she looked around the room, her dark hair falling around her plump cheeks and just past her shoulders. Her dulcet tone reverberated through the small dining area, her lips turning down slightly when she set her focus back to Thorin. “Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if you knew of who I was?” Her head tilted to the side while she gripped the body of her staff, watching as the leader looked her over again.

She kept a stoic expression as he scrutinized her, taking in her apparel and lack of weapons. Not that she wasn’t armed though, he just didn’t know exactly where her weapons were hidden. After moments of speculation Thorin let out a huff, and crossing his buff arms over his chest he gave a curt nod. A ghost of a smile spread on the girls lips and after she straightened, her right hand curled into a fist before it rested against her heart, her left palm facing outwards as she pressed the back of her hand against her lower back. The dwarves watched as she gave a deep, respectful bow, her hair falling over to shield her face before she came back up again. “Ianthe, at your service.”

She could hear the odd dwarf in the room whisper her name, another small smile forming on her lips as she turned her gaze to Gandalf for a half second. The wizard gave her an encouraging nod before she turned back to Thorin, who’s face had hardened yet again as he watched her. “My family hails from a long line of Mages— Terra Mages to be exact.” As Ianthe went about telling her story to the leader, she found herself once again watching the dwarves for their reactions. “Long have we watched over the lands of Middle Earth, though it hasn’t been until recently that we Mages have settled deep in the forests.”

“And why is that, lassie?” Ianthe’s eyes darted over to an older looking dwarf, his kind eyes hidden slightly behind white bushy eyebrows. She found herself smiling at the dwarf, for she could see genuine curiosity swimming around in old, wise eyes. Though from the way he held himself and the knowing look he sent her, Ianthe could tell he knew exactly what she was and what her story was. “Oh, where are my manners!” The old dwarf gave a small chuckle before bowing at the waist. “Balin, at your service lass.”

Ianthe gave a small nod in return to Balin’s introduction, a grateful smile pulling up her lips before she turned away from him. “Decades have Mages spent their lives wandering the earth, protecting its people and the creatures that reside here.” Ianthe continued with her story, her fingers grasping one of her elbows behind her back as she looked around the room. “However the longer we wander, so our lifelines dwindle. The Elder Mages have decided it best for us to stop, to try and keep our lights from going out completely. But hope still remains for us.” Brown eyes suddenly stopped Ianthe in her tracks, a warm glow budding in her chest as she saw the kindness that swam in the orbs. This dwarf seemed different than the others, she noticed. His beard was kept short and stubbly against his jaw, his soft lips pulling into a gentle smile as he leaned across the table in curiosity.

“What hope is that?” Ianthe tore her gaze away from the dwarf as Thorin’s deep voice ran through her, her eyes meeting his before she cleared her throat.

“The young Mages.” She spoke clearly to him. Her hands suddenly fumbled with the clasp of the pouch that was clasped to her hip, and she dug inside the leather accessory before she pulled out a smooth gem. The crystal in her hand shone brightly against the candle that sat on the table, and the dwarves eyes blew wide when shining spots danced against the walls and the ceiling of the dining area. Ianthe looked to her right when she felt a small tug against her cloak, and her smile grew when she saw their host, Bilbo Baggins, look at the gem in awe. “It’s called Dýnami Zoís, or a Zōḗ Stone,” She explained, smiling fondly at the gem as she brushed a finger over the many glowing sides. “Each young mage, upon coming of age, is given a Zōḗ Stone.”

“A lifeforce.”

“Indeed, Master Baggins.” Ianthe felt proud to know that the hobbit knew a bit about the gems and their significance, her smile growing when she turned to see him looking up at her in awe. She placed a hand upon his shoulder before turning back to the dwarves and wizard, her eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones again briefly before she turned away. “While Yavanna has given us our magic, the Zōḗ gives us our lives. And with our lives we protect those who need it.” To show her respect Ianthe placed the gem over her heart, as she had done with her fist a moment ago, and gave another deep bow. But before she had time to straighten up Thorin spoke again.

“And what do these stones have to do with your wanting to join our quest?” Thorin’s eyes were guarded again, his lips pulled into a tight line. He still didn’t quite like the idea of having this mage on his quest, and while he had heard of the stories of Mages wandering the lands of middle earth and he knew of their great power, he couldn’t seem to find himself agreeing with her coming. She was just a girl after all, she didn’t belong on this dangerous quest. Thorin held a breath, as did the rest of the room when Ianthe took a step forward, her hand held out towards him as she offered the stone to him.

“As the stone protects and guides my life, I shall protect and guide yours on this quest.” While Ianthe’s tone was quiet, barely loud enough for Thorin or the others to hear, it held a certain strength in it. The offering caused Balin to let out a sharp gasp, all eyes falling to him when he realized the severity of her words. “That is, if you shall have me, Master Oakenshield.” Ianthe ignored the shock that radiated from the older dwarfs body, her eyes locked in Thorin as he looked between her and the stone. His eyes drifted over to his advisor, his eyebrows knitting when he saw the look on his face, it was one of both shock and what appeared to be horror. Whatever Ianthe was offering him must have been something that the Mages considered precious. Would she really offer this lifeforce to join my company?

Ianthe held in a breath when Thorin looked back to her, her skin burning with anticipation while his blue eyes looked her over for the third time that night. It felt like forever had gone by before he spoke again, his head dropping in a single nod. “So be it,” His words brought a sudden, quiet cheer to fall past Ianthe’s lips, his eyebrow quirking at the sound. Soft ‘thank yous’ fell past her lips as she went to place the stone into his hands, but he was quick to shake his head, his hands curling into fists to refuse the precious gem. “If you are to be a proper guide and protector, you will need your stone.”

Ianthe felts a wave of excitement course through her veins at his words, her fingers curling tight around her stone as she nodded frantically. “Of course. Thank you, Master Oakenshield.” Her eyes inadvertently turned to the dwarves around the room, and once again she found herself looking to the brunette with deep brown eyes. His lips were parted in a wide smile as the blonde dwarf next to him spoke quietly, and suddenly she found herself blushing when he set her a wink. Ianthe’s heart thumped loudly as she looked away from him. What is this feeling? Her mind was racing with a million thoughts as she shoved her stone back into her pouch, but despite her precious thoughts of the quest all she could seem to think about now was the puppy dog-eyed dwarf with the soft smile.

“My dear,” Gandalf was the one to pull her away from her thoughts, his beard raising as he smiled softly at her. Ianthe shuffled her way over to the wizard, tossing Bilbo a grin as she passed him before her eyes traveled up the length of Gandalf’s tall figure before she meet his eyes. His hand landed heavily on her shoulder and the look in his eyes caused the smile on her lips to vanish, a sudden wave of worry burning in her arms and legs. Ianthe ignored the burning gazes that followed her out of the dining area, and for a moment she felt tempted to look back to the brown-eyed dwarf, but she resisted the urge while Gandalf pulled her to a secluded area in the hobbit hole. “Ianthe, I know how desperately you wish to help others, but offering—“

“I know what I am doing Gandalf.” Ianthe interrupted the wizard with a raise of her hand, the silver rings on his fingers glistening against the light. Gandalf gave her a stern look, but nonetheless he let out a small sigh while he held his tongue. “If my father has taught me anything it is to follow what the heart in my chest says and where the veins in my body pull.” Though the metaphor made little sense to the wise man, he understood how the Mages felt toward quests such as the one she was about to embark on. Gandalf’s fingers curled around her shoulder fondly, giving it a small squeeze before motioning first her to head back towards the dining area.

Ianthe gave the wizard a nod of thanks as she walked past him, her eyes glancing back into the crowded room as he meekly made her way back inside. The dwarves had settled down again, waiting for their earlier discussion to start once again until she entered, all eyes curiously watching her. Ianthe felt a blush form on her freckled cheeks, the sudden attention now causing her heart to race until another hand landed softly against her shoulder. It was Balin.

“Just sign here, Miss Ianthe.” He spoke, her eyes looking down to find a rolled piece of parchment in his fingers. Giving a single nod she grabbed the parchment before unrolling it, her eyes dancing across the long list of conditions until she reached the bottom. A quill was handed to her, a small smile forming on her lips as she went to sign it. However, she movements slowed to a stop when she glanced up again, this time her body freezing when she met the intense gaze of her Dwarven admirer. He appeared to be waiting for her to sign it, excitement being clear in his expression as he clasped his fingers together. She had to admit, the dwarf she couldn’t seem to get out of her mind was handsome, and the aura that oozed from his body was one that she had never quite seen before. He intrigued her. The two kept their gaze fixated on each other, her round cheeks darkening and her emotions swirling with each passing second while his heart raced wildly in his chest.

It wasn’t until a hard cough sounded in the room did Ianthe tear her gaze away from the young dwarf, her cheeks a permanent red as she looked back to the contract. She scribbled her name on to the line in a hurry. Ianthe watched as the older dwarf accepted her contract graciously, her blue eyes once again drawn to the brown-eyed dwarf as the other scanned her contract.

“It’s all here,” Ianthe quickly looked towards Thorin when Balin finished inspecting her contract, his eyes dancing between his nephew and the mage for a moment before he let out a low grumble. He shot his youngest nephew a stern look before gazing Ianthe. The mage was practically buzzing in her spot from excitement. “Welcome, Ianthe, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: HILLBILLY ELEGY

I ACTUALLY WATCHED THIS MOVIE Y’ALL. I promised I would watch some Oscar movies instead of prestige TV shows with bad red wigs so I sorta did that: I watched Oscar bait. Because lordt knows this movie is not winning any Oscars (and if it does, it is truly the asterisk Oscars). THIS YEAR YOU GUYS. There is so much to discuss in this movie. Yes, the wigs too. Also there are lots of spoilers but here’s the thing: THIS MOVIE IS AWFUL AND YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY NOT WATCH IT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES AND INSTEAD JUST READ THIS REVIEW. I WATCHED THIS HORROR SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO! YOU ARE WELCOME! 

We begin in Kentucky 1997. AND EVERYTHING IS JUST SO KENTUCKY 1997. All landscapes/cars/people are beige and broken and depressed. We meet JD who is good at biking and saving turtles and spending the summer with his messed up family. HE IS ALSO A TERRIBLE ACTOR AS IS THE OLDER VERSION OF HIM. Important note: I did not read this book and the real JD is an awful Libertarian asshole and nothing about his story, his book, or this movie should be supported. I AM HERE FOR THE WIGS, Y’ALL. MOVING ON!

As promised, Glenn Close as JD’s grandma MAMAW (YES THAT IS HER CHARACTER NAME) looks exactly like Gene Shalit. A friend of mine made this comparison and I cannot unsee it. Amy Adams, straight off (ok maybe several years off?) deglamming for Sharp Objects is just completely frizzed (and kinda strung) out. These wigs are truly abominable as is this film. Anyway, they leave Kentucky and go back to Ohio where they live and where it is somehow more depressing than Kentucky. 

But ok the wig, y’all. Amy Adams hair is is as shitty and unmanageable as her character which might have been a choice? Still, this wig is a tangled, dried out nightmare that cannot be defended (nor can this character’s child abuse and drug problems). Within moments of returning to Ohio, Amy Adams scolds her child for allowing a gifted dog to pee on her wall to wall carpeting and then the cops have to break up a car slap fight (of her slapping her child!) that spills out into a neighbor’s house. SHE MIGHT BE THE WORST MOM IN HISTORY BUT SHE SHOULD DEFINITELY BE ARRESTED FOR WIG CRIMES.

ONTO GLENN CLOSE - SHE LOOKS LIKE GENE SHALIT. THE END. Whoever approved this wig is a huge fan of American film critic Gene Shalit sans mustache. It is the only possible explanation. AND THIS PATCHY MAKEUP. I CANNOT YOU GUYS. I realize that everyone was aiming for deglam Oscars but they went too far. 

ANYWAY. This film flashes between 1997 and 2011, where older JD (again also a terrible actor) is somehow in law school at Yale (OK?) and dating Freida Pinto who this film claims is normal law school age (FUN FACT: she’s 37). Older JD kind of has his life together other than the fact that all the snobs of law school cannot deal with this hillbilly kid who doesn’t know what a salad fork is. And then JD’s sister (played by Haley Bennett aka offbrand Jennifer Lawrence who I actually prefer more) calls and says that MOM IS IN TROUBLE PLEASE RUIN ANY LAW PROSPECTS AND COME HOME EVEN THOUGH MOM IS ABSOLUTELY THE WORST. AND HE DOES YOU GUYS!

Amy Adams’ 2011 wig/makeup/everything is probably the visualization of 2020? I assume this wig was made from leftover parts from Glenn Close’s Gene Shalit wig grafted onto a Halloween fright wig. It could very easily work for a swamp witch costume if you didn’t care about the quality of your swamp witch wig. IT IS THE WORST AS IS SHE. So she was in trouble because she overdosed on heroin...of course she did. After driving all night to get to Ohio, JD gets a call for a second interview at an important law whatever and just HAS TO GET BACK TO NEW HAVEN in the next like 6 hours which still feel like 600. The whole time he’s dealing with Amy Adams and her fright wig, it is a race against time to see if he’ll make it back and secure his future. I guess this is the plot of the movie? I could honestly not tell you. Basically the whole film (if you can call it that?) is strung together vignettes of strung out Amy Adams and yelling Glenn Close that never really add up to anything? BUT THERE IS SO MUCH YELLING ALWAYS. It’s like the opposite of a slow burn - it’s just constant flames and not the cool gay kind.

In any case, we flash back to the ‘90s where Amy Adams’ wig is basically everything Tonya Harding ever hoped and dreamed for (other than that Olympic medal...also Amy Adams would have been a much better casting choice in I, TONYA which had vastly superior wigs BUT I DIGRESS). We see how this drug habit developed - Amy Adams was a nurse and hoarded pills! This leads to the most truly outrageous film sequence I have seen in a long time where high as hell Amy Adams roller skates through the halls of the hospital where she works in her damn nurses scrubs and obviously immediately gets fired. Also her dad dies! Also she tries to kill herself and ends up screaming bloody murder (also covered in blood) in the middle of street and then goes to rehab (rehab doesn’t work). And then gets married to some rando. And then she gets some new job and needs JD to lend her some pee so she can still be a nurse. This all happens in the course of like 10 minutes.  Like I said, this movie is constant insane vignettes - it’s like 100 plots at once and also no plot at all.

And then JD - definitely out of nowhere - develops a gang of terrible drug addicted teenage friends (sure!) who steal/crash cars and make everyone super pissed at JD. ALSO! For reasons unknown or ever explained, Glenn Close ends up in the hospital herself and then has the realization that only she can save JD from his effed up life AND TEARS ALL THE IVS OUT OF HER ARM AND STORMS OUT OF THE HOSPITAL WITH NO CONSEQUENCES OR EXPLANATIONS AS TO WHY SHE WAS THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! YOU GUYS. 

Also! JD tries to steal a graphing calculator for school from Radio Shack (this is for sure the most 90s sentence I’ve written in a while!) AND GLENN CLOSE IS PISSED! She lays down the law and also buys the graphic calculator herself even though that means they have to live off meals on wheels. BUT! Then he gets the best grade of the entire class on his math quiz and I DEMAND TO KNOW HOW HE KNEW HE HAD THE BEST GRADE IN THE ENTIRE CLASS AS THIS IS NEVER EXPLAINED OR SHOWN AND I NEED ANSWERS! Regardless, the graphing calculator not only saved JD’s grade point average but maybe set him on the path to Yale??? The concept that consumerism is the only thing that will help you as a “hillbilly” is really troubling and bespeaks the issues with this work of non-fiction as a whole. Anyway this movie really want you to know that GRAPHING CALCULATORS SAVE LIVES!!!

There is also a wig battle royale between Amy Adams and Glenn Close wherein there are absolutely no winners (but we, the viewer, definitely loses most!) It is honestly unclear to me how this fight ends (or how any fights end in this movie) because every interaction turns immediately into a fight and when said fight reaches its zenith, the movie cuts away to another vignette! Regardless, the wigs are complete garbage AS IS THIS MOVIE.

Back in 2011, Amy Adams refuses to be admitted to a rehab facility and older JD drives her back to her druggie boyfriend’s house which looks like this and I was like...hold up where have I seen this house before?

The answer is: 2010′s THE FIGHTER ALSO STARRING AMY ADAMS DEGLAMMING HERSELF FOR AN OSCAR SHE DIDN’T WIN! Ok actually in comparison, these houses aren’t that similar other than they are depressing houses with multitier front porches BUT STILL. 

Anyway, JD leaves Amy Adams and her sad swamp witch wig at some random motel where nothing is resolved between them at all and then he drives all night back to New Haven whilst talking to Freida Pinto on the phone (SHE NEEDS TO SLEEP TOO, DUDE! HOW DO YOU THINK SHE IS PLAYING 14 YEARS HER JUNIOR! SLEEP!) And then...he does get to the interview and....the movie ends!! WHAT!TRULY AND FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART: WHAT DID I JUST WATCH AND WAS IT A MOVIE? I STILL DON’T KNOW!

There is an epilogue of pictures of the real people and you guys: MAMAW LOOKED NOTHING LIKE GENE SHALIT. Also why do I even care about these real people???? Yes the real JD made something of himself....he wrote the book on which this movie is based and became a Libertarian asshole and worked with Peter Theil?!?! OK??? I guess the full story is in the epilogue? But this movie absolutely begins and ends nowhere and in between we are treated to a lot of nonsensical yelling and terrible, awful, no good wigs. I IMPLORE YOU: DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE!!!!!! MAYBE WATCH SOME YOUTUBE CLIPS OF GENE SHALIT INSTEAD! 

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

[hopelessromantic1352]

Welcome Addition - Part 2

More dad Hunt! And y’all learn the gender of their baby in this part.  Plus, hormones. That should be warning enough. Hopefully everyone enjoys this!! Thank you for all the feedback and support, I appreciate you all!

Perma tags: @cora-nova @drstrange46ers @desiree-0816 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

Thomas tags: @alleksa16 @alj4890 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @choicesfactor @choicesmakemychoices @marycarillo21 @lxaah11 @kuladekiwi @ajayismybae @choices-dan @aloehasrose @miss-indecisive-says @mfackenthal @ethanplaysfavorites @amillionmoonsred @usuallyamazinglyaverage @thethots-plicken @hhiggs @jlpplays1 @kamilahvescovi @flyawayboo @lilyofchoices

Word count: 2,059

Warnings: None

Thomas tightens his tie while Stephanie looks at her reflection in the mirror. Both frown, but he speaks first as he sits on the edge of their bed to put his shoes on.

“I agreed for Ms. Sinclaire to hold an event for us and our child, but I am perplexed and rather annoyed as to why she would take our home over and lock us in our room. With the blinds drawn.”

He finishes tying his shoelaces and turns when his wife doesn’t say anything. The silence worries him and then he sees her hand on her stomach while she turns, looking at her body closely. The small bump is obvious and growing as each day goes on, but Thomas swears she has never looked as stunning as now. She literally glows, her eyes bright and her smile full of warmth.

“Stephanie, what is the matter?” As he moves to her side, she steps away, keeping her face turned away from him. Stunned, he stands where he is, unmoving.

She continues ignoring him, walking into their closet. He can hear hangers shuffling, clothes being moved around restlessly and then a loud groan.  Seconds later, his custom dress shirts start flying out of the small room, landing on the hardwood floor of their room. His eyes widen before he scowls while he paces towards her, dodging a shirt as he steps into the walk in closet with her.

“Stephanie Hunt, I suggest you tell me why you are destroying my area of the closet before I am forced to drag you out of here in order to protect my clothing.”

His bride glares directly at him and reaches for another one of his shirts, but he’s just as quick, gripping her wrist in a gentle, yet firm hold.

“Thomas, let go.” She struggles against him, but he is unrelenting, keeping her hand in place away from the hanger.

The director wraps an arm around her growing waist and guides her around the clothes on the floor, leading her to the bed and motions her to sit on the edge as he does. She stays standing, crossing her arms and turning away from him instead. Thomas sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he collects his thoughts. He cannot allow anger to rise because he knows this is most likely the pregnancy hormones causing whatever is going on. But, what is going on?

“Please inform me of the reasoning behind tearing into our closet.”

“You have too many clothes.”

The sharp tone in her voice doesn’t even register with him. It’s the statement that finally triggers him. He stands and steps directly in front of her, lowering his face towards her so he can stare into her eyes, their noses nearly brushing at the close proximity.

“I have too many clothes?” His jaw clenches, his dark, intense eyes boring into hers. “Your clothing and shoes take up the entirety of the closet! I have a small portion in comparison to you and you have the audacity to say that I have too many clothes?”

His voice has raised an octave, the usual deep, settling sound higher than she is used to startles her. She immediately drops her head in shame, backing down as she realizes how selfish she’s being. The tears come too easily and begin flooding down her face, sobs wracking her body and with another sigh, he stands to wrap her in a comforting embrace. He holds her, rubbing her back gently while she tries to get control of her emotions. Her slender fingers grip at the lapels of his jacket as she buries her face against his chest, not caring about the mess she’s making of his shirt or her makeup. After a few minutes, she finally collects herself and pulls back to look up at him apologetically.

“I am so sorry, that was… I didn’t mean that. These hormones-- I…” She shakes her head, blushing lightly as she looks away.

His hand reaches under her chin, a finger pushing it up so she has to look at him. His face has softened, the anger gone, replaced with love and care as he looks down at her with worry.

“What started all this?” His voice has lowered as well, the depth of it holding its usual warmth when he’s with her in private.

Stephanie takes a deep breath, her sparkling sapphire eyes still shining from her previous tears as she looks up at him, the blush deepening as each second passes.

“Nothing looks good on me. I’ve tried on every dress I have, everything I have in our closet, but nothing looks good. I’m getting fatter. My eyes have these bags under them, my breasts are huge compared to how they used to be, and I have these stupid mood swings.” Another tear rolls down her cheek, she wipes it away quickly and shakes her head while she breathes out a laugh. “Ridiculous hormones.”

He cannot fathom what he is hearing is what she actually thinks. His dark brows draw together. “You cannot actually believe that.”

“Thomas, look at me.” She steps back and holds her arms out, motiong at her body.

“I have.” He steps back to her, a hand cupping her cheek softly as the other goes to her belly. “You take my breath away each time I see a glimpse of you. You are carrying a child made from our love, that love radiates through you and I have never seen you as beautiful as now. You should understand that I fall more deeply in love with you each day I wake up with you in my arms knowing I’m holding my family.”

Throughout his short speech, her tears began to build up again and at the end, they finally begin falling once more. She wipes at her eyes furiously, sniffing while he caresses the baby bump and her cheek, softly smiling at her. He’d never felt as much love as he does now. Love he didn’t realize he could ever hold for two people. His family. His chest swells with pride as he looks down at his bride with love. He leans down, kissing the shell of her ear before he whispers against it quietly.

“You are a stunning mother.”

She slaps his chest softly, sniffing again. “Stop it, I don’t want to cry anymore.”

When he chuckles, the deep rumble warms her and she wraps her arms around his waist, needing to hold him while she presses her cheek to his chest. He begins rubbing her back in silence and looks around at his shirts littering the floor.

As if reading his thoughts, she speaks up, mumbled by his chest. “I’ll clean those up. But, I think you might need one.” She pulls back and looks at his white shirt stained with mascara.

He nods and cups her cheek once more, smiling so widely the corner of his eyes crinkle. “I love you both beyond words.”

Stephanie swears she will never get used to seeing that smile from him, but she matches it and leans up, kissing him sweetly before she pulls back and begins to lean down to pick up his scattered clothing. 

“We love you, too. I know this baby loves you beyond words because they get really excited when you’re around.”

He smirks and picks up most of the hangers with shirts, taking the ones she’d already grabbed from her and he takes them to the closet, hanging them up again. He smooths them out before he takes a white one off the hanger and carries it with him into the bedroom. He lays it across their bed before he slips his jacket off and begins unbuttoning the stained shirt. His fingers are nimble and efficient in their work as he stares at Stephanie. He sees her eyes following his movements, her breathing hitching subtly at every new inch of his exposed chest and he steps closer to her.

“If the child truly does grow excited when I am near, they must get that from you.” 

Without any hesitation, she reaches forward with both hands and places them on his chest, sighing as her palms meet his warm skin. “We get excited for two completley different reasons, Mr. Hunt, but yeah, they probably do get it from me.”

Another chuckle erupts from his chest and he slips the mussed shirt off, allowing her to trail her soft hands over his toned body. He fights every urge and want to ravish her right now, forcing his hands to stay at his side while she continues her exploration.

“Mrs. Hunt, I believe it would be best to wait to celebrate until we’ve learned our child’s gender.” He smirks at her despondent huff, “You are the one who asked Ms. Sinclaire for this party.”

“Fine.” As soon as her hands leave his skin, he misses the warmth from them, but soon she’s moving away to reapply her makeup.

***

Thomas could not believe that Addison actually achieved an air of elegance he could approve of. She’d lined their backyard with tables, alternating between light pink and light blue tablecloths. Groups of pink and blue balloons also adorn the yard while silver accents the decorations. The colors are not overdone, nothing is overbearing and she was beyond ecstatic when he gave his version of a compliment to her. So much so, she ran off and began talking excitedly with Matt, gripping his hand and arm. Thomas arches an eyebrow and turns to Stephanie who is looking around in awe.

“Is Ms. Sinclaire pursuing Rodriguez?”

“Huh?” Her gaze follows his to where Addi is held close to Matt. “Oh, yeah. They’ve been going out for quite awhile.”

Before Thomas could push for more information as to why he’d not been informed of that, Addison goes to the front of the party, tapping a spoon against her champagne glass to capture the party guest’s attention.

“Thank you everyone for coming to the Hunt’s gender reveal!” Her bright smile widens when friends and colleagues of Thomas and Stephanie’s begin to cheer. “I’ve been holding this secret in for days and it’s really starting to take its toll on me, so I think I’m ready, as are the parent’s, to find out the gender. So without further ado, please turn your attention to the big screen we’ve set up at the back of the yard.”

Everyone turns to look towards the back of the yard at the large screen Addison has set up. A vintage film countdown appears on the screen. A three shows up, then switches to a two, and finally a one until all of Stephanie and some of Thomas’ close friends appear. They are on a set, a green screen behind them with no background and Addison steps forward from the group. Behind her, Matt, Ryan, Chris, and Holly stand with large cards. The cards have both pink and blue designs on them, not giving away any hint as to the gender.

“Hi everyone! We’re here on set preparing to share the exciting news of Thomas and Steph’s beautiful baby’s gender.” Addison steps back between Matt and Ryan, holding her card forward as she prepares to flip it. 

She glances at the group of friends as they start counting together.

“1… 2… 3!”

The cards all flip on the screen while the background of the green screen transitions into a dark sky being illuminated by pink fireworks. As Thomas and Stephanie read out the cards, she starts laughing as tears stream down her cheeks and she covers her mouth while she leans her head onto Thomas’ arm. He feels his lips turning upwards and he reaches over to his pregnant wife, grabbing her hand as her laughing causes him to chuckle.

Matt’s card says “It’s a…” while the rest of the cards spell out "girl".

“It’s a girl.” Stephanie reads it out, beyond excited, her voice cracking while she wipes her eyes. “Thomas, we’re having a little girl.”

He nods once, turning and embracing her while he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His eyes well up with tears as his emotions are overwhelmed. The two cling to each other while their friends clap and cheer around them, celebrating the life of the little Hunt coming into the world soon.

[alwaysmychoices]

“A Day with Dr. Ramsey”

Synopsis: After waking up in Dr. Ramsey’s apartment after a series of drunk texts, Charlie and Ethan spend the day with Naveen on the river...

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlie Greene)

Choices Story: Open Heart 

Rating: Teen (Charlie enjoys cussing. Don’t @ me). 

Words: 5099 (buckle up, y’all)

Part 2 of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey” 

part 1: drunk texts - part 2: a day with dr. ramsey - part 3: unspoken - part 4: in the morning light - part 5: brunch - part 6: the library -  part 7: the cure - part 8: the celebration - part 9: goodbye

There were no embarrassing t-shirts. No “Turkey Trot 5K”s or “World’s Okayest Doctor.” The best Charlie found was an old medical school t-shirt, and Ethan could see the disappointment on her face when she returned wearing a plain grey t-shirt from his closet.

“Any luck with embarrassing t-shirts?” Ethan mused, already dressed for the day.

“You hid them, didn’t you?” Charlie narrowed her eyes, her dedication so comical that Ethan wished he could have offered a confession.

“I gave them to Jenner as chew toys,” Ethan retorted, and he watched as Charlie struggled not to show the smile forming on her lips. In that moment, he decided that of all of the Charlie expressions he’d seen, that was his favorite. The way she bit back a smile and swallowed her laughter, eyes shining with amusement, made his world stop. She was so happy then, and she tried so hard to maintain her aloof sense of sarcasm just to make their banter last longer. She wanted to keep talking with him, to keep having fun with him.  He never knew he needed such validation until he met Charlie, but now, he couldn’t get enough.

“Walking through your closet was like looking through a catalog for respectable men in their thirties,” Charlie had to walk past him to reach the coffee he’d made for her while she was in the shower, and in the process, Ethan caught a waft of his body wash on her skin. For a moment, the sensation overwhelmed him. Before, Ethan had no idea that he would be so intoxicated by Charlie brandishing his scent, but now, he couldn’t help but think of every possible way to make sure it happened again.

Charlie watched him, unaware as to why he suddenly seemed so dumbfounded, and she sipped at her coffee, waiting for him to say something in return.

“Apparently, I am so far gone that I can’t even recognize the insult in that statement,” Ramsey forced the words out of his mouth, taking a large gulp of his caffeinated beverage to forget all of the scenes now playing in his head.

“Ethan, I saw a sweater vest in there. It was a nightmare,” Charlie shook her head as if she was disappointed.

“My closet is starting to feel very attacked,” Ethan found himself smiling and could only imagine what he must have looked like, grinning like a fool and practically drooling over a woman in his t-shirt.

“Your choice of shampoo, however,” Charlie nodded approvingly, “If I’d known your hair smelled that amazing this whole time, I probably would have spent every day just smelling you.”

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle, “I can tell you found your tour through my bedroom very enlightening.”

Charlie blushed, trying to conceal the spreading redness by hiding behind her coffee cup. Did she really just say that she’d like to smell him all day? It took all of her energy not to physically grimace, and she tried to divert his attention by mumbling, “Thank you, by the way.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, and Charlie went on to explain, “For letting me clean up and not look like a walking hangover for the rest of the day.”

“Consider it a public service,” Ethan teased.

“I had no idea you were so charitable, Dr. Ramsey,” Charlie was smiling again, and Ethan practically had a physical reaction to it. It was as if simply flashing her teeth in a sign of approval could relieve the tension in his body and produce a brief euphoria, momentarily rendering him unable to do anything but smile back at her.

If he could bottle the feeling he had when he saw Charlie smile, Ethan Ramsey would have destroyed a whole sector of the drug market.

This wasn’t the first time Ethan noticed that he was affected by Dr. Greene, and he was long past his days of denial. To not recognize the enigmatic influence of Greene would be senseless at this point. It was one thing when she was the intriguing intern. In his years at Edenbrook, he’d seen many charming interns pass through the halls, but none had been of consequence.

There was something different about Charlie – something he’d never seen before. When he looked through her records, he knew she’d be a competent if not accomplished doctor, and he appropriately advocated for her match at Edenbrook. Ethan anticipated the possibility of mentoring the promising, young doctor, and he acknowledged the associated emotional connection that accompanies mentorship. But this… This was more than Ethan could have imagined.

This was consuming and overwhelming and warm and terrifying, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake Charlotte Greene.

Ethan Ramsey had never felt like this before, and he was surprised by the amount of terror he felt. How could one person affect him so much in such a short amount of time? And why, out of hundreds of thousands of people in Boston, did it have to be her? A bright, promising intern whose career could be ruined by his unchecked affection. And why couldn’t he leave her alone?

“Ethan?” Charlie asked, surprised by his apparent silence, and Ethan’s head snapped up, thankful to be forced from his train of thought.

“Sorry, a little tired,” Ethan lied. It was an obvious lie, but if Charlie realized, she didn’t let on.

“I’m sure chasing a drunk girl across Boston was exhausting,” Charlie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She still remembered nothing from the night before, but if her texts were any indication, she had a lot to be embarrassed about. “Dr. Sexy” was horrifying enough, but that was just the tip of the iceberg to how she felt about him. What hole had she dug herself into, and did she even want to ask?

“It was worth it.” That was honest, and Charlie could see it in his face.

She was smiling again, unable to contain a sudden warmth spreading through her body as her heart briefly fluttered from the idea that Dr. Ramsey thought she was worth it.

Dr. Ramsey turned Charlie into a lovesick schoolgirl, and it was mortifying. Charlotte Greene was a highly-educated adult woman. She was passed the days of doodling “Mrs. Ramsey” in her notebook in class, but just a few moments with Ethan transformed her into a sentimental fool. And it didn’t make it any easier that she couldn’t crack him. He was the one man she couldn’t diagnose. She couldn’t see past his emotional walls and deflecting behavior, and every lingering glance or surprising display of affection confused her more. Who was Ethan Ramsey, and was he as pathetically in love as she was?

“I haven’t seen Jenner much this morning,” Charlie briefly bit on her lower lip, and Ethan was so distracted he almost couldn’t respond.

“Oh… he’s in bed, I think.”

“Really?” Charlie laughed, “I assumed that living with you would make him a morning puppy.”

“He braves mornings for me but sleeps as soon as he can afterward,” Ethan beamed as he talked about his dog. After years alone, Jenner had been a constant companion, and he gave Ethan something outside of work to keep him grounded, “I’m sure he’s especially tired after staying up with you most of the night.”

“He stayed with me?” Charlie’s expression was suddenly full of childlike excitement.

“Right up until you woke up. He likes you,” Ethan couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Who didn’t love Charlie? He sure as hell did.

Charlie leaned onto the kitchen island, holding her coffee cup to her lips with a wistful smile, “I am determined to become your dog’s best friend.”

Ethan choked on his coffee with laughter, amused by the suggestion but not at all surprised by the statement. Of course, Charlie would want to befriend his dog.

For a moment, Ethan was drawn into a fantasy of life with Charlie… Morning coffee, walking through the park with Jenner in tow, coming home to see someone he loved in the other side of his bed.

No. You can’t do that to yourself.

Ethan forced the image out of his mind. It would only do more harm than good.

“We should probably leave soon if we want to avoid traffic,” Ethan stood suddenly, finishing his coffee and looking for his car keys to distract himself.

Charlie was confused about his sudden shift in behavior, but she shrugged it off, similarly finishing her coffee and holding up a leash from a kitchen drawer.

“Can Jenner come?”

The drive to Naveen’s home was littered with occasional small talk and frequent changes in the radio station, much to Ethan’s chagrin. Though he knew the way, Ethan quickly recognized that Charlie needed something to do, and he turned over all navigation to her. He found that, though a competent doctor, her directions were insufficient, and had he not been confident in his path, he would have grown irritated with her. But instead, he found humor in her sudden gasps of “oh shit, turn right!” and “fuck, it says we should have turned there.”

Undoubtedly, Jenner enjoyed the drive the most. Somehow, he weaseled out of the backseat and settled comfortably in Charlie’s lap, and for a moment, Ethan couldn’t tell who was more smitten with Charlie – him or his dog.

“And we should be… here…” Charlie leaned forward in her seat, making Jenner shift, to look for a sign that we had arrived. Instead, she was greeted with an apparent wall of trees, “What the…?”

At this point, Ethan decided to relieve her of her navigational duties and drove towards a break in the trees. He found the small, hidden drive. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie’s expression fill with amazement and curiosity. After a minute or so of wandering down the drive, Naveen’s river house appeared, and Ethan could see his mentor pouring over an easel on the dock.

Naveen looked so… frail yet at ease. He’d embraced his death sentence with a friendly smile and resigned to spend his final moments only doing things he enjoyed. Ethan offered to stay with him at the river, offering companionship and medical care as his health deteriorated, but Naveen refused. In his last days, he wanted Ethan to be family, not his doctor, and he wanted memories to be fond, not burdened by the daily care of a patient.

Even now, the pain on Ethan’s face was apparent, and Charlie instinctively reached for him, placing her hand on his arm and giving him a gentle squeeze.

Ethan was surprised, and as he looked over to Charlie, she gave him a gentle smile that left little room for talk.

He didn’t need to say that he was sad. She already knew that. And she didn’t need to tell him that she was here to support him because she’d already shown him.

When Ethan’s car pulled into park, there was silence. Charlie’s eyes never left Ethan, waiting for a sign that he was ready to get out of the car and face his dying father figure. She never rushed him, instead offering her hand on top of his. She was gentle, unsure if he would accept the sign of support, but to her surprise, he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed tightly.

“Are you okay?” her whisper was soft and concerned.

Ethan considered her question for a moment before nodding his head, “Yeah… Thank you, Rookie.”

He hadn’t realized that he used the nickname, and it was the first time he heard the level of affection he placed in it. Had he always sounded so enamored?

Charlie let out a gentle chuckle. It had been a long time since she’d heard that, and she never thought she’d be so happy to hear it.

“Come on, Jenner wants to say hello,” Charlie placed a gentle kiss on Jenner’s head, and he practically turned to mush. Charlie leashed Jenner before opening the door, and Jenner happily stuck by her side as they got out of the car and made their way to the dock.

Naveen saw Ethan first and waved enthusiastically, abandoning his painting and walking towards his former colleague. Even from a distance, Naveen saw a change in his friend. Sleepless nights and scotch had aged him since leaving the hospital, and a sense of finality followed him. Failure was not a good look for his dear friend, and it pained Naveen to think of leaving Ethan behind when he was in such a poor state…

“There you are! I was beginning to worry. You’re always punctual,” Naveen called out to Ethan, but as he got closer, the answer to his friend’s tardiness revealed itself.

Dr. Charlotte Green appeared from behind Ethan with Jenner in tow. Even as she smiled and waved, it was evident that she stood by Ethan’s side. It was as if she and Jenner had formed a silent attachment to protect their pained friend, and suddenly, Naveen wasn’t so worried about leaving Ethan alone in the world.

“Dr. Greene!” Naveen greeted her warmly, occasionally glancing at Ethan as if trying to confirm the obvious. Now that she was closer, Naveen found clues that she’d spent the night with Ethan, and he began to wonder how long Ethan had guarded such a secret from him.

“Please, call me Charlie,” she smiled, seemingly oblivious to Naveen’s assumption that they’d slept together, “I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along, Dr. Banerji.”

“Of course, I don’t mind! You were once one of my only companions in Edenbrook, and for that, I consider you a friend,” Naveen was sincere. Like Ethan, he saw something special in the young intern, and had his health permitted, he would have liked to form a friendship with Dr. Greene. He imagined that, by the way Ethan looked at her, she would have quickly become an significant element in both of their lives. “I am now a retired man. Call me Naveen, Charlie.”

“Thank you, Dr-“ Charlie stopped herself, “Naveen.”

Naveen smiled and pulled her into an unexpected hug that Charlie happily reciprocated. And for a moment, Charlie reverted back to her med school daydreaming and almost pinched herself when she realized the famed Dr. Banerji was hugging her.

In his embrace, Charlie could see how Ethan adored Naveen so. If anyone could feel like an intern’s medical school grandpa, it was Dr. Banerji. In his retirement, he’d abandoned his white coat for a warm sweater vest that smelled of acrylic paint, aftershave, and peppermint candies. His roaring laughter warmed anyone who heard it, and his gentle, attentive smile demonstrated his genuine affection.

Charlie bit back an oncoming wave of sadness as she remembered that this wonderful, tender man was dying.

When Naveen released her, he caught a flash of the pain in her expression, but she quickly returned to a polite smile as Naveen invited the two for coffee in the kitchen. Jenner, excited by a few ducks in his view, hurried and forced Charlie a few paces ahead of Naveen and Ethan.

With a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, Naveen looked at his friend with a telling smile.

“She’s wearing your shirt, Ethan,” Naveen didn’t have to specify the obvious insinuation.

“She slept in my guest room,” Ethan grumbled, somewhat embarrassed by Naveen’s excitement.

“Ah, but you brought her here this morning,” Naveen was satisfied that his young friend had not yet accepted what was very obvious to him.

When Naveen received the news of his impending death, he mourned the life he lost. He mourned the patients he could no longer save, the world he could no longer serve, and the people he could no longer love. But more than any other, he mourned the years he would miss of Ethan’s life. He regretted that, in their years of companionship, he had never seen Ethan fall in love. Ethan’s life had been a series of carefully planned decisions, each furthering his illustrious career and cementing his success, but in all of his deliberate choices, he had never made one to love someone. Once, Ethan came very, very close, but that chapter had been closed a long time ago.

In all of those years, Naveen had never seen Ethan look at anyone like he looked at Charlotte Greene, and Naveen was filled with hope for the two. But the warm hope was followed by sadness that Naveen didn’t get to see how their story ended.

Naveen’s home, much like his apartment in the city, was filled with books. Most were medical, and a few had been written by himself. There were classics and popular titles mixed in at random, most of which Naveen had never read but purchased to read “someday.” And with his days now numbered, he’d pulled them off the shelves and stacked them on various end tables, occasionally picking one up and switching at random. There were fishing rods and unfinished paintings littering Naveen’s living room, and Charlie spotted several unused golf clubs in the corner. Naveen dedicated his remaining time to his various passions in life – all but one. He could never satisfy the burning curiosity that evaded deduction, and he resigned himself to let go of the final mystery of his diagnosis.

Charlie noted that the medical books were not pulled out, and she felt a wave of surprise. Until now, she’d never believed that Dr. Banerji had really given up.

“Coffee?” Naveen offered, already preparing a cup as he had never known Ethan to reject such a proposal. As he poured a second cup for himself, he noticed that Charlie’s eyes had settled on his fishing rod.

“Do you fish, Charlie?”

Charlie nearly jumped, surprised by the question.

“When I was a kid,” Charlie admitted with a sheepish smile, “It was my grandfather’s favorite pastime.”

“Ah,” Naveen broke out in a wide grin, “Ethan won’t fish with me!”

“You won’t fish?” Charlie raised an eyebrow at Ethan, “I thought you’d do anything to avoid small talk.”

I knew I liked her, Naveen thought to himself.

“Even I have limits, Rookie.”

Naveen couldn’t contain his smile as he watched the two and proudly brandished it when Ethan looked back at him, much to Ethan’s embarrassment and Naveen’s amusement.

“As your Grandmentor, I’d be honored if you joined me on the dock. Who knows? You might even be the missing ingredient to get Ethan to fish after all these years,” Naveen took a sip of his coffee, happy with himself for putting his mentee on the spot and daring him to say no to her.

And if Ethan thought it was hard enough to say no to Charlotte Greene, he certainly couldn’t do it now.

“To satisfy an old friend, I will consent to a boring pastime,” Ethan agreed, and he could see the words hiding behind Naveen’s smile: You’re doing it for her.

That day, the river echoed the laughter coming from Dr. Banerji’s dock.

The three doctors spent some time seriously baiting fish on the river, even catching a few that Banerji insisted they would cook later that night, but the seriousness of the pursuit quickly evaporated. Banerji and Greene were first to laugh, though they both tried to stop in fear of “scaring the fish away.” However, a competition developed in which they all tried to contain laughter as Banerji and Greene told jokes. Ramsey, unsurprisingly, was the obvious victor, and while Banerji and Greene dissolved into fits of laughter, they worked together to earn his laughter.

In the end, it was Charlie who won, and once the competition had been decided, they moved onto another activity. While putting away their gear, Charlie stumbled upon Banerji’s latest unfinished painting. It only took one compliment of his work for Banerji to light up, and he handed her an easel, offering to teach her a few tricks. This time, Ethan resisted their requests for him to join, and instead, he and Jenner offered to judge when they were done.

Charlie painted terribly, but Banerji wasn’t much better.

It wasn’t long before Dr. Greene and Dr. Banerji were thick as thieves. She trusted and adored him instantly, and Banerji reciprocated. She was a lovely young woman, but even if she hadn’t been, her affection for Ethan was enough to make him appreciate her.

At some point, Ethan meandered back to the house where he picked up a stray book from the growing collection of titles on Naveen’s coffee table, and he watched the two paint through the expansive windows, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him so happy…” Naveen’s words were soft enough to almost be lost in the passing breeze, but they caught Charlie’s attention with a jolt of surprise.

Charlie looked at the man beside her, a sad smile on her lips, “He’s in a lot of pain.”

She didn’t waste time pretending that she didn’t know what he was talking about or acting surprised at the implication of his words. They both knew what this looked like, and Charlie was not skilled enough to hide the obvious way she felt about her teacher. To deny it was to waste the short time Naveen had left, and he was the only person in the world she felt she could talk about it with.

Naveen nodded thoughtfully, “Will you be there for him when I am not?”

“I don’t know if he’ll let me,” Charlie admitted with shame in her voice. A dying man was asking her to care for his loved one, and she wasn’t even sure she could complete her request.

Naveen chuckled, “Ethan may hold you at arm’s length, but he’s never let you go, has he?”

Charlie thought back to his time away from Edenbrook, all of the texts she’d almost sent and all of the days she’d hoped he would reach out. He’d never felt so far away from her, and it pained her more than she expected. But one drunk text, and now she was here…

She considered Naveen’s comment, growing silent as she returned to her painting. Had Ethan ever let her go?

Ethan abandoned his book eventually and returned to the dock, and that essentially silenced their previous conversation. By this point, both had grown tired of painting, and they abandoned it in favor of a new activity.

This was how the day carried on, moving between new activities with a fleeting commitment to each pastime. Naveen’s new lease on life meant that he didn’t need to finish an activity for the sake of completion, and this philosophy ruled their time together.

Ethan and Naveen played a game of chess while Charlie played with Jenner, and when they discussed another match, a casual suggestion was made to play cards and was enough to change course. Charlie joined them during the second round, and this continued until they found something new to do.

When the sun set on their day on the river, Dr. Banerji invited them to stay for dinner, and declining never occurred to either of his guests. A bottle of white wine was opened as they enjoyed the sunset, and their conversations were littered with laughter and smiles.

Banerji took the lead in cooking dinner, though he promptly found helpers.

Jenner parked himself in the kitchen, waiting for scraps, and Charlie sneaked him treats quite frequently. Ethan pretended not to notice, and Naveen hid his smile by focusing on the fish. When they finished cooking, they carried their meal to the deck overlooking the river. Ethan lit the candles while Naveen and Charlie set the table, and once they were all seated, Naveen raised his glass.

“To good friends and time well spent,” Naveen toasted, and suddenly, an unwanted reminder presented itself… Naveen’s still dying. A lump formed in Ethan’s throat as he raised his glass, and without missing a beat, Charlie’s hand silently rested on his beneath the table, offering silent support.

Ethan’s smile was grateful and adoring as he looked down at Charlie, and Naveen felt a sense of relief wash over him. His boy was loved…

Dinner carried on in the same spirit of their day. They laughed and joked and enjoyed themselves freely. The jokes carried on with particular attention to Ethan’s less than stellar cooking abilities, and they enjoyed teasing each other. Long after they finished their food, they continued their conversation with wine under the moonlight.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to hospital gossip. Naveen, now out of hiding, remained in contact with several of his friends at Edenbrook but was eager to hear more from Charlie. Remembering how much he loved gossip, she happily obliged.

“From what I hear, Dr. Lahela has quickly amassed a group of followers,” Dr. Banerji’s smile was full of mischief, “You’re friends with him, no?”

“Bryce and I are friends, yes,” Charlie nodded her head, amused by Naveen’s apparent enthusiasm for hospital gossip.

“Is he as scandalous as the rumors say?”

“Even more so.”

Naveen nodded appreciatively, and after eyeing Ethan for a moment, he dared to ask, “Have you partaken in the scandals?”

Charlie choked on her wine, eyes wide with surprise. Was he asking if she fucked Lahela? Naveen was unphased by her response, acting as if it were a typical question as he poured himself a glass of wine. Even in the dim candlelight of the night, Charlie’s blush was noticeable.

“That’s not very polite to ask,” Charlie feigned a dramatic affront, somewhat hoping that she could avoid answering the question. She was aware of Ethan’s eyes on her. For a moment, Ethan considered jumping in to save her, and he would have if not for his sudden need to know the answer.

Jealousy flashed through his veins as he thought about the way Dr. Lahela looked at her…

“You don’t have to answer, of course,” Naveen insisted.

“Well…” Charlie bit her lower lip, taking a deep breath before stammering, “I…” Charlie laughed at herself, shaking her head at how nervous she was. What did it matter if she fucked Bryce? It’s not like Ethan didn’t have the option and rejected it, “I had sex with Lahela, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It took enormous self-control for Ethan not to jump out of his skin at her confirmation.

Naveen looked proud of Charlie, but she didn’t know if he was proud of her confession or that she’d slept with Bryce. Either way, she accepted his smile and casually watched Ethan’s reaction.

“Any rumors to add in circulation?” Naveen teased her, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d asked just to make Ethan jealous. And should she thank him for that?

“No, Dr. Nosy, I have nothing to add,” Charlie playfully reprimanded him, “Bryce is a very good friend of mine.”

Naveen raised his hands in surrender, and Ethan remained silent. He could hardly focus on the conversation surrounding him. Instead, he was haunted of images of Lahela touching her, claiming her… Jealousy prickled at his skin, burning him alive from inside. Suddenly, Ethan was aware of the fallacy of his assumptions. All this time, he’d thought Charlie was his, but now, he knew that he had no right to make that claim. He’d pushed her away every time she offered her heart but held her too close for her to ever completely leave him.

“How about we talk about the scores of women after you, Dr. Banerji?” Charlie turned it back on him, raising an eyebrow.

Naveen waved off her question with a chuckle, “You flatter an old man.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” Charlie assured him, winking for effect, and he continued to laugh.

“Speaking of flattery, I hear congratulations are in order. You performed exceptionally well after the subway derailed. You helped save Rafael Aveiro’s life,” Naveen held his glass up in a toast of respect, “He’s a fine man, a real hero.”

Ethan knew the story well, and he felt a swell of pride in his chest that his rookie had helped so many. He raised his glass in a similar congratulations, but when his eyes met hers, he faltered.

The change in Charlotte was visible, and it startled Ethan. There was guilt in her gaze, as if the mention of Rafael reminded her of betrayal against him.

Oh…

Ethan swallowed, suddenly understanding.

She had sex with Lahela, but Rafael was different. She cared for him… Ethan’s body went cold as the idea entered his mind – she loved him.

Rafael Aveiro was a superhero. He loved with conviction and unencumbered freedom. He never hid his affection for Charlotte, and he never questioned if he deserved her. He loved her in a way that Ethan couldn’t, and how could Ethan ever compete?

Charlie should have loved Rafael, and maybe she did…. But she’d never felt such guilt as she did when she thought about him while sitting next to Ethan. She felt like every tender moment with Rafael was a moment in which she cheated on Ethan, and she had to remind herself of all the times Ethan pushed her away. Rafael didn’t push her away, so why did she keep coming back to Ethan?

For the first time all day, silence fell between the two of them.

The illusion shattered. They weren’t two lovebirds enjoying a day with a mutual friend. It was always more complicated than that…

Naveen filled the silence with a story from his youth, and slowly, they both engaged again. They laughed and participated, and truly, they enjoyed themselves. But between Ethan and Charlie, so many things remained unspoken.

Their conversations carried late into the evening, but every good day must end.

Containing their yawns, the group of three finally concluded their day together. Banerji was exhausted but still sad to see his friends go. He hugged them each tightly and sincerely, giving Charlie a kiss on the cheek as she went. He bid farewell to Jenner with a playful scratch under his chin, and he waved Charlie and Ethan off as their car disappeared down the drive.

Charlotte’s day with Dr. Ramsey ended, and the moon illuminated all of the illusions they shared. Today had been wonderful and magical and fun, and away from hospital politics, they were two people who loved each other deeply spending time with a dear friend. But as the city of Boston approached them, they were two people, irrevocably connected but divided by unspoken words.

Dr. Ramsey wasn’t hers to hold, but why couldn’t Charlotte let go?

I know this is super long and didn’t have a very satisfying ending, but I wanted to show you the unique situation of their relationship. They’re obviously in love and basically married, but there’s still something that divides them... Please request to be tagged for the next update “Unspoken.”

Tag List:  @claudevonstruke @flyawayboo @octobereighth @elixabexh @togetherwearerapture-blog @perriewinklenerdie @nobounderiesplease

[survivorwildwest]

Episode 4 - Snakes Live in There

Upon returning to camp, Elizabeth takes Hannah under her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Han.”

“No, it’s okay,” Hannah says, “I just realized, I was gonna have to fight for him and myself every time and I just can’t do that.”

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a mouse sniffs for food while the other animals sleep.

The next morning, Ben and Brandon wake up early in the Tsitsistas shelter and search the area for an idol.

“When I found it, it was in the hills. I think we should go there.”

“Whatever you say. What does it look like?”

“It’s just a gold nugget, like yay big,” he says, holding up a fist.

Brandon starts looking between the creases where the rocks meet and in holes at the bottom of the hill.

“Be careful. I think snakes live in there,” Ben warns him.

Brandon gets back to his feet and walks further up the hill. The particular hill they’re exploring is a gradual climb with various rock formations throughout the ascent creating a wall that increases with height as they climb. At its peak height of 40 feet is a natural pole, perfectly centered on the hill. There are smaller, similar towers cascading down the main pole. From above, the formation looks like a cinnamon roll. Brandon finds himself climbing the hill up its natural spiral. Ben gets distracted by a hare on a rock. They stare eye-to-eye until the hare hops away. 

“Brandon, did you see the rabbit--” Ben asks, but Brandon has already made it to the top of the hill, where he sees, just above eye level, something that doesn’t quite look like it belongs on this tower. He can’t get a good look at it, but what he can see looks gold. He reaches up and wraps his fingers around what he thinks is an idol. He pulls it down and looks in his hands. “Ben!” he calls.

“Did you find it?”

“Come here!”

Ben runs over and they read the attached note together, “Congratulations! You have found a hidden immunity. This may be played until there are five players remaining.”

They jump up and down briefly before sauntering back to camp where Lauren is reading the Tree Mail.

“Arrow,” guesses Kimmi.

“I like how they changed it around this time,” Kass says, “Usually the High Noon part is first.”

At high noon, the two tribes meet again for a reward challenge. “Tsitsistas, getting your first look at the new Suhtai tribe. Taylor voted out at the last tribal council.”

A few people are surprised to see someone they assumed was strong go. Michaela doesn’t seem shocked and nods to Hannah in quiet approval.

“Now, as you’re probably aware, since they’re on your buffs, there were two weapons of choice in the Wild West. The gun and the bow. For today’s reward challenge, you will be firing arrows at a target. First tribe to get a bullseye wins reward. Want to know what you’re playing for?”

They all wait with eager anticipation

“While chickens are nice,” Jeff says, “They’re not quite authentic. The winning tribe will receive rabbit traps to place around your camp.”

The two tribes strategize their order and begin. Colby fires first for Tsitsistas, but hits far from the bullseye. Todd fires for Suhtai. He’s closer than Colby, but still doesn’t hit the bullseye. Lauren takes her aim and rivals Todd’s placement.

“Shit,” Todd mutters.

Carl takes his shot, and first place should no one get a bullseye.

Ken is up next. He takes a long breath in and, closing his eyes, breathes out slowly. He pulls his arrow back and lets it go. It spins as it glides through the air and pierces the bullseye.

“Tsitsistas win reward,” Jeff shouts as he flings his hands in the air.

Back at the Tsitsistas camp, Colby leads the tribe in preparing rabbit traps. They then break off into groups to place them throughout their camp in “the most optimal positions.” Colby, Michaela and Kimmi take one near the peak of a hill. Brandon and Ben return to where they found the idol in an attempt to catch the rabbit Ben saw. Ken and Lauren take a casual stroll around the desert until they find somewhere that feels suitable.

“How’d you get so good at bow & arrows?”

“Well, it’s all about balance really. Just, being at peace with yourself and one with your body.”

“Totally, yeah. Being one with your body is so important.”

“Is that something you’ve found yourself able to do with soccer?”

“Yeah, definitely. Do you need help,” she asks as Ken struggles to balance the bait on the trigger plate.

“No, I got it,” he says, fumbling.

“Here, let me help,” she says as she reaches into the trap. She slips her fingers between Ken’s hand and the bait, then situates it on the trigger plate so it stays on. Ken maneuvers his hand out of the cage and around Lauren’s forearm. Centimeters separate his fingers and her wrist. The hair on her arm raises to meet Ken’s fingertips. As he removes his hand, he falls backward and catches himself with his other hand.

“I think we should be getting back to camp,” Lauren says, extending an arm to help him.

“Yeah, thanks.”

As the two of them find their way back to camp, they see Bi and Kass sitting on the stones around the fire, already returned from their trap placing.

“Sit, Sista” Kass says as she sees Lauren with Ken. They sit on stones across from the other two at the fire.

“I wanted to run something past you, and I talked to Bi about it and she agrees.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“I’m afraid Kimmi could be a wildcard at the merge. She hasn’t shown any initiative to align herself with anyone. She said she’s open to anything at this point, and knowing her game from Cambodia, I don’t trust her.”

“I could do Kimmi. Could you vote Kimmi, Ken?”

“Well, I don’t like to vote anyone out but I suppose I could do that.”

On their way back to camp, Colby, Kimmi and Michaela run into Ben and Brandon.

“Whoa-ho-ho,” Ben says as if they’re encroaching on his property.

“Ben,” Kimmi says, “Who are you thinking?”

“Well, I know you guys are going to come after me again so how can I know to trust you?”

“What,” Michaela asks.

“Who are y’all thinking go next,” Ben asks.

“I don’t like how close Lauren and Ken are getting,” Michaela says.

“Yeah,” Brandon says, rubbing his chin and rocking back and forth.

“Just, consider it,” Colby tells them, “We’re not targeting you, Ben.”

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert one night, bats emerge from their cave.

On Morning Eleven, Carl collects the tree mail and gathers the tribe around the fire. Colby does the same for Tsitsistas.

“Where’s there a river,” Wardog asks. “I thought this was a desert.” “Probably near the lake we went to,” Todd reminds him.

At High Noon, the two tribes meet Jeff for the immunity challenge.

“We are standing on the Colorado River on the border of Nevada and Arizona.” Jeff tells them, “Here in Nevada, each tribe has a wagon full of supplies. Your job is to get your tribe’s wagon and supplies from here to the mat in Arizona. First tribe to get the wagon, all the supplies and all their tribe members on the mat wins immunity.”

The two tribes take a minute to strategize then they begin. Tsitsistas begins by placing smaller items in the wagon, but taking larger items across by hand, the tips of their toes just barely touching the rocky bottom of the river. It’s proving to be a more strenuous strategy than expected but they stick with it.

Suhtai carries their wagon and places it in the water. Russell, Carl, Wardog and Elizabeth hold the wagon in place while Todd, Wendy, Jerri and Hannah load the supplies onto the target. Tsitsistas has already placed a quarter of their items on the finish mat by the time Wendy and Jerri throw a rope over the wagon. They jump inside to catch their breath and their tribemates row.

About halfway across the river, Jerri joins in the rowing but notices it’s too late and alerts her tribe. Wendy grabs the rope, ties it around her waist, then around a bar in the wagon. She turns to her tribe and tells everyone to grab the heaviest thing they can and carry it on foot the rest of the way. She then dives into the river and begins swimming. By the time she gets to the other side, the rest of her tribe has dropped their supplies and carry the wagon to the mat as she jogs ahead of them. As soon as they drop the wagon, Wendy collapses into it and Jeff announces “Suhtai wins immunity!”

Jeff hands Suhtai immunity and everyone excitedly pushes Wendy forward to take it. She humbly obliges and has an excited tick and big smile when Jeff congratulates her.

Back at camp, everyone congratulates Wendy before heading back into their tents to rest.

At Tsitsistas, everyone sits around the fire, staring at the flames as they wait for someone else to get up. Ben finally says, “I’m going to get water. Does anyone need any?”

A few people grab their canteens and hand them to Ben when Kass volunteers to come along.

At the oasis, Kass runs her Kimmi plan by Ben. He appears dumbfounded and begins stammering, “I could… I mean, you make a lot of good points.”

“Who are you thinking otherwise?”

In a talking head, Kass says, “He’s just standing there, smacking his lips together and he’s just spewing nonsense. I don’t understand how I couldn’t win Survivor, twice, but this guy did it on his first try.”

“Ken or Lauren is what Colby and them are doing,” Ben says.

“Huh, okay. I guess that makes sense. What about Brandon?”

“He’ll vote however I vote.”

“Okay. That’s good to know.”

“You’re a hundred percent on Kimmi?”

“Yes.”

“How many people are with you?”

“Enough if we get you and Brandon.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him about it.”

Back inside the shelter, Colby guts a rabbit as he and Michaela discuss the vote. “What are you thinking, cowboy? Lauren or Ken?”

“They’re both strong in challenges,” Colby says.

“Sure,” Michaela agrees.

“What about Kass? I think she could be a force to be reckoned with come merge.”

“Definitely.”

“Who do you think we have a better chance working with,” Colby asks.

“I’ll be straight-up with you, Colby. I gave you a name last time and you didn’t vote with me. I want you to decide.”

“Alright, fair. Ken.”

“Alright. Ken.”

As the temperature falls with dusk, Michaela finds Bi and Kass. She tells them, “It’s Ken.”

“Sounds good,” Kass and Bi agree. She sees Ben across the fire and mouths “Ken,” to which he nods.

With the moon’s beams lighting their way, Tsitsistas join Jeff around the Tribal Council Campfire once again.

“Is this starting to feel like Survivor yet,” Jeff asks.

“Oh, it’s been feeling like Survivor, Jeff,” Ben answers. “I went from almost being voted out last time to the swing vote this time.”

“That’s got to feel nice.”

“I’m not complaining!”

“So, we know the game at its core hasn’t changed. It’s still a game about connection. Have you felt connections forming in the tribe, Kass?”

Kass laughs with the rest of the tribe as she looks at Ken and Lauren, “There have been some… connections, Jeff, yes.”

“Clearly talking about you two.”

“Look, Jeff, I’m used to it,” Ken says, “everybody likes to assume I have some innate romantic attraction to every attractive woman, but that’s not why I came here. Even if Lauren is a strikingly beautiful woman.”

“Yeah, I--” Lauren stutters over her words when she receives his compliment, “I totally agree. I’m here to play Survivor. I’m sorry I find someone on my tribe attractive.”

“Even in denying it, Michaela,  they’re still flirting,” Jeff says.

“Let em flirt,” Michaela says, “Who cares? Doesn’t affect me. Give us a big bed for the next reward though, Jeff, then we might have a problem.”

“Kimmi, does this budding relationship between Ken and Lauren influence how you vote.”

“Of course,” Kimmi says, “This is a long game, and if you have as close a connection as those two do, you’ll go far.”

“This is a long game,” Bi says, “There are still a lot of things to worry about that aren’t a showmance.”

“Alright,” Jeff laughs, “It is time to vote. Kass, you’re up first.”

Everyone votes. Jeff tallies the votes then asks for any idols. Brandon looks over to Ben who shakes his head briefly only one time.

“Alright, I’ll read the votes. Kimmi, Kimmi, Kimmi, Ken, Ken, Ken, Kimmi, Fourth person voted out of Survivor: Wild West, Kimmi.”

Kimmi hugs everyone goodbye before Jeff tells her that the tribe has spoken and snuffs her torch. Everyone voted for Kimmi except Kimmi, Colby and Michaela.

Read Episode 5 here

[shortnotsweet]

Hello, your fiveya pride and prejuice had me on my knees. Everything you have writing for the umbrella academy is so nice, this fandom should be thankfull you are here making gold content. I'm not very creative and I still dont know which kind of prompts you would like, but the last au gave me some Elizabeth Swan vibes, so maybe you could do a Fiveya Pirates of the Caribbean Au? Whatever you make I'm sure will be wonderfull :)

It’s 1732, and Governor Reginald Hargreeves and his two adopted daughters, accompanied by the family butler, Pogo, are sailing to Port Royal aboard HMS Crown when they come across a shipwreck. The lone survivor of the tragedy is a young boy, shaking and shell-shocked. A sympathetic Pogo begs Reginald to allow him to take him in - Pogo himself will rear and provide for the child out of his own wages.

Vanya clutches the railing and looks out into the wreckage, into jagged mountains of burning wood obscured by ink black plumes of smoke that cast a ghostly silhouette against the dreary sky and the great gray sea, and can’t take her eyes off of it. It’s a tragedy, with glowing embers peeking through the remains of the ship, keeping it alive and drowning in the water, and Vanya is fascinated.

I do not want to know what transpired here, she thinks. She doesn’t need to know, anyway - it looks like a wasteland, like something writhing and nearly dead, and then her father takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away.

The boy is raised in a fine household, alongside Reginald’s two young daughters, both of whom are handsome, intelligent, and composed. His truest and most constant friend, though, is Vanya.

The Boy starts out as a Will Turner of sorts, only more confident and living in relative comfort, except with the knowledge that he is an outsider even among orphans, and a survivor of something terrible. He longs to go back.

By 1742, the boy is merely fifteen and already deemed an academic prodigy in a vast array of scientific, mathematical, mechanical and historical studies.

By the end of 1742, he’s gone, vanished into the night and headed for the sea. Vanya, not for the first time in her life, is alone.

Years later, she’s grown into a beautiful yet confined woman. During a botched proposal, Vanya faints, due to a combination of heat, anxiety, and a too-tight corset, plummeting into the harbor below, only to be rescued by a mysterious man

Surprise y’all guess who it is

Five and his crew are under a curse that renders them undead corpses under the moonlight, burdened with immortality. Idk why he’s cursed, ig he just got up to a lot of pirate shit lmao. The gold of his father’s pocket watch is key to breaking this curse, and he’s returned to Port Royal after all these years to retrieve it, after he gave it to Vanya for safekeeping the day before he abandoned the Hargreeves household to rejoin the life of piracy

She agrees, of course, but he is soon confronted by both Reginald and Leonard, backed by the Navy, on account of 1) being a pirate and 2) trespassing and in order to safely escape he takes Vanya hostage

In his time away, Five has become captain of the dreaded Academy, the ship that his own father used to command before the wreck. Vanya initially disapproves of his life choices because he may be older now and like damn ok, but 1) hygiene 2) the ethical ambiguity of piracy and 3) you left me dude without warning ,, tf is up with that?

Cue childhood friends reconnecting in really awkward circumstances + maybe Stockholm syndrome

Luther, Ben, Klaus, and Diego are members of his crew. While Diego is a fantastic swordsman, Ben has a connection with sea monsters that allows him to dissuade nearby creatures from bothering their ship. Klaus is a mystic they picked up along the coast who can communicate with the dead - it’s through him that they learn the specifics of the curse.

Five glances down at her, sleeves rolled above his forearms, his hair dripping saltwater over his brow. “The Romans did it, didn’t they?” Honor among thieves is how the saying goes. “They encouraged it, actually, especially in children. Stealing. Steal from your enemies, steal from your neighbors, steal from your friends.”

At this, Vanya’s eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t steal from my friends.”

Five shrugs.

“It builds character,” he says, “and it builds world skills. If you’re a thief, then you’re fast, resourceful, and, most importantly, you’re still alive. That’s helpful. It can be a good thing, to be a thief.”

“The greatest empire of all time, after Britain, just a whole lot of thieves?”

“That’s Rome, then, a bunch of thieves. The empire essentially stole its own foundation from other civilizations, you know? Arches and aqueducts and art - even the Republic was based on direct democracy.” He leans back and looks at her from under his lids. The floor below them shifts and sways along with the rhythm of the sea, and Vanya leans against the mast to keep her horizon line steady.

“So you’re a history buff now?”

“I always have been,” Five says defensively. “Math is just more exciting. You don’t need to get caught up with the Romans anyway,” Five laughs. “We’re pirates.”

“I suppose I need to find a way to make myself useful, then?” Vanya crosses her arms, squinting under the white hot sun. “Be helpful.” Do as the Romans do.

“No, of course not,” Five says quickly, uneasy, bitter. “You didn’t join the crew, remember? You were kidnapped.”

Days into her kidnapping on the high seas, Vanya ditched her heavy ass dress for a practical pair of trousers and tied her hair up. The sun smiles down on them in a thousand yard stare, reflecting white off the crests of the waves that jostle the ship further away from land, and her white skin has already shown signs of browning. She can breathe, though, better and easier than she’s ever breathed in her entire life

The ocean never ends, but Vanya can see something flickering on the horizon, something that looms across the skyline and drags the sky down to meet it. It feels like hope, like dreams once dashed in her girlhood, and now that it has come out of hiding, unclothed and unabashed under an impossible white sun, Vanya can’t stop looking.

The Academy is still being pursued by the Royal Navy, and Five can’t just return Vanya bc they're not only on the run but they’ve got shit to do, aka curse-breaking shit. Plus, he really, really doesn’t want to

And deep down he can tell that she doesn’t want to either

“But you like it here, don’t you,” he accuses her, hard and fast because he knows she’ll be honest, and the strategist in him wants to size the queen, wants to take her home. “You were miserable back there,” Five reminds her, his own eagerness a tangible thing to his ears. “Reginald made you miserable. Jenkins made you miserable, hell, even Allison made you miserable.” Vanya’s gaze remains unblinking, but the corner of her mouth twitches ever so slightly, her lower lip dragging it down. The sight of it gives him pause, and he wants to stop for a moment, wants to apologize for it, but the conqueror in him leers in approval and he’s plowed too forward, too far already. “You wanted to leave, every second of every day. That’s what you told me,” Five reaches forward to take her by the shoulders, gently crowding her against the railing, and she looks up and into his face, dwarfed by his height. “You’re free now, you’re here. Reginald can’t get to you. Why would you want to go back?”

You’re free now. There’s nothing for you there, he tries to say, and she must get this, because her eyes go alight, just for a second, and her lip curls into a snarl.

The thing is, she’s much happier here, with Five and his crew and a great, endless sea, but she remembers Allison all too vividly, remembers that she left her alone without warning. Vanya knows that it’s like to be left behind, and the thought of Allison alone with only their father for company strikes something hollow and sinking into her chest, something like dread

“I don’t want to go back,” she snaps, harsher than he expected, and he lets go of her. “Of course I don’t.”

You think I want to go back to corsets and Reginald’s voice in every hallway of that old, evil house, and Leonard crowding me everywhere, acting like I’ve already said yes, and this stench of absence that follows me wherever I go.

Oh, she realizes, of course he doesn’t.

“Then don’t.”

Vanya glares at him, hard and herself, and he can see the betrayal sink into her face and settle like silt at the bottom of a glass.

“It’s because we’re family,” she says, and the fifteen-year-old in Five finds himself enraged because Vanya’s family is supposed to be here, with him.

“I need to see her again,” Vanya enunciates carefully, forming every word with a nervous kind of fear, like she thinks he won’t understand, and Five’s anger dissipates almost as quickly as it had risen.

They’re going to break that curse, and Five will be a real boy (man) again. Allison won’t be alone, because her sister will come back for her (just as Five came back for Vanya). They’ll all have real, red, beating hearts, and Five will have Vanya for himself and Vanya will have one thing all her own - she has an entire ocean to conquer and no regrets

For once, Vanya has a choice, and it’s a pirate's life for her

[honeybee-babe]

How can you excuse all of the abusive things Luther has done to his siblings (especially Klaus) throughout the series? And don't pull the "he was drunk" card. And without implying that Luther locking up Vanya isn't intentionally cruel or intended to hurt her? He has the ability to think logically, unlike Vanya he isn't experiencing a literal psychotic break down.... Please, explain this to me logically. Thanks.

~ wowowowowowow i clenched my jaw all night thinking about this ask~~

Yikes. You’re not asking me why I “excuse his actions” (I don’t), you’re asking why I see him as a human being with flaws and trauma which need to be addressed rather than the literal devil. And why I don’t think he is irredeemable based on a few terrible choices (when he has also made some great ones and showed affection for his siblings in the past). I honestly think people hate Luther because it’s easier to have clearly good characters and clearly bad characters, even in a show that actively and artfully avoids that dichotomy.

Why do you care that I like Luther? I’m not bashing your faves or causing any harm to you? I am not trying to tell you to like him or convince you he is a great character. I know he has flaws. 

But if you really want to know how I “excuse all his actions” (which…. I don’t?), I’ll humor you, but I’m answering the question you’re really asking:

Why Do You Not Despise Luther?:

This response is really longwinded but THIS QUESTION IS REALLY OVER-SIMPLIFYING(!!!) so I feel it’s warranted.

First, I’m gonna address the “abusive things Luther has done to his siblings throughout the series:”

I am not excusing any of the things Luther “does to his siblings,” I’m just saying we should extend the same amount of courtesy to him in sympathizing with him and understanding the motive behind his actions (just like we all do with Vanya). And also consider the fact that he is deeply traumatized and has literally been gaslit his entire life into thinking he has to follow a specific model that was set out for him as “leader.” Literally he has been taught that he is nothing without the UA and being a leader, and I don’t think people release how damaging that is to a person?

But also hot take: I don’t think Luther is abusive towards his siblings at all? Not until the last two episodes for sure. I think he is insensitive towards others’ emotions at times, but he is never cruel just for the sake of being cruel. I honestly think Luther is incapable of picking up on emotional cues to some extent.

I’m re-watching right now, I just finished episode 7 and I have yet to see any signs of him being abusive towards the others, and not Klaus specifically? The choking scene was vile and physically violent but I don’t think it’s abusive because it was a one time thing and abuse is a cycle. Luther isn’t particularly awful to Klaus, he is just dismissive? The only person he ever is really verbally mean to is Diego when they get into fights and Diego is just as bad if not worse, and also intentionally tries to get an emotional rise out of Luther (which is…. just as awful and cruel?).

But yeah I finished episode 7 and no abuse so far… maybe my dumb ass who was abused for my whole life just doesn’t understand what abuse looks like? Okay that’s kind of a joke but I’m actually being serious, my abuse is pretty similar to Luther’s and my body dysmorphia/eating issues are similar to his too which is a lot of why I resonate with him, so I could be missing signs because I’ve probably acted the same way. So please point out to me where specifically he committed an act of abuse, and not a one time act of violence or simply being dismissive of/not picking up on someone’s emotional needs.

Also I honestly think Luther is just in denial of others’ emotional needs because he is in denial of his own emotional needs. He has been taught to push everything down, including the needs of others, with the only goal being completing the mission, and protecting everyone/leading everyone to safety. Also I mean, he hasn’t been around human beings for 4 years (so of course he struggles to relate to them/communicate healthily), and he was always taught not to engage with his siblings but just to lead them because that was his role.

Also Klaus and Diego (especially Diego) are just as dismissive of Luther’s trauma? And like yeah Luther covers it up but it’s pretty freaking obvious…pointing out how big he is specifically.

Diego literally sees Luther shirtless after the chandelier falls on him, sees how self-conscious he clearly is, and then never asks about it or checks on him (yet continues to joke about it – also Klaus makes fun of his muscles when he first sees him which is just insensitive). And in the first episode the way Klaus jokes around during the family meeting about cucumber sandwiches when Luther is trying to plan a memorial service; it’s obvious that Luther is grieving and paranoid (and also that he has been manipulated enough to love Reginald!!!) and Klaus is just making jokes and not addressing this? And then they both just ignore his obvious paranoia over Reginald’s death and just call him crazy and walk away? And don’t use the “he was high” excuse for Klaus being a prick (just like I can’t use the ‘he was drunk’ excuse for Luther, which I never did once btw, y’all just want more justification 2 hate on him).

Also: Yes, Luther tells Diego to stop talking shit about Reginald at the memorial service but like, from his perspective, that is someone bashing the person he was closest to AT HIS FUNERAL!!! He starts the fight with Diego but only after Diego provoked him, clearly intentionally, and Diego continues to fight him and throws a fucking knife at his arm (but physical violence is only not okay when Luther uses it right?).

Also HUGE THING Y'ALL ARE IGNORING: Klaus finds out Luther had nonconsensual sex while drugged out of his mind and congratulates him………. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk about you but I think Klaus has been around the block when it comes to drugs and sex (and consent) and should realize that someone on drugs for the first time losing their virginity is nonconsensual, or even if considered consensual still pretty icky? Like Luther is clearly ashamed and upset and doesn’t want to talk about it and Klaus just laughs abt it. That is so not cool.

And another thing:

Luther is very, very protective of Five which is so so sweet, yet people just completely overlook it because they only want to see the bad things he’s done. When he and Allison run into him in the hallway at the end of Run Boy Run and see him looking distressed Luther asks him in a soft voice, “Are you okay? Can we help?” and reaches out to touch Five’s face. Five grabs his hand to stop him but this was very sweet? Like it’s clear Luther has a soft spot for him because he’s small.

But Diego? After he finds out about Patch he bursts into his apartment and goes to attack Five; Luther has to pick him up to restrain him from beating up their brother who has the body of a 13 year old. All because he blames him for the death of the love of his life (just like Luther is afraid of Vanya after she killed Allison). But in Diego’s case, Patch is already dead; Diego only wants to hurt Five out of vengeance, not because he’s trying to protect Patch. And he doesn’t apologize or anything after????? It’s just never brought up again!

SO IN TERMS OF LUTHER BEING AWFUL TO KLAUS THE WHOLE SEASON: is he? is he really? is he really abusive? and is he really that much worse than his other siblings?

And now I’ll address this nonsense:

“And without implying that Luther locking up Vanya isn’t intentionally cruel or intended to hurt her? He has the ability to think logically, unlike Vanya he isn’t experiencing a literal psychotic break down…. Please, explain this to me logically. Thanks.“

…….sigh.

Luther is absolutely not being intentionally cruel or doing this to “punish” Vanya, he’s doing this because he’s freaking the fuck out and doesn’t have any idea what she might do. Yes it’s a bad idea but we need to keep in mind that he’s not thinking logically, he is emotionally distressed. Yes he could talk to her but Allison had just tried to do that…. and look where the fuck that got her?

Do you seriously believe Luther was mentally stable and thinking logically in this moment? Do you not realize he was literally going through a breakdown and identity crisis of his own?

He just found out maybe two days ago that his entire life was a lie and the person whose approval he sought the most didn’t give a shit about him, found out he was isolated from humanity for no reason (which….. as if being isolated in itself wasn’t traumatic enough), after he was mutilated against his will, and now he has just witnessed the person he loves most almost die and he couldn’t do anything about it. Luther is experiencing a breakdown and I think a big part of it is control: he realizes he’s had no agency his whole life/has never had control, he just lost control/agency over his body on drugs even more and had nonconsensual sex while intoxicated, and then after this he sees Allison dying and he can’t do anything to help her (he can’t even give his blood)!!!! His superstrength and locking up Vanya is the only thing he has control over, he feels it’s all he can do to prevent the apocalypse/protect everyone. 

Not only that but the idea of control as contol over powers: Luther has super strength, he has to be super careful and controlled all the time so he doesn’t accidentally hurt the people he loves… the thought of someone’s powers being out of control is probably the scariest thing in the world to him. And yes, he gets in fights with Diego but he doesnt use his full strength (just like Diego doesn’t either) because if they did then they would actually hurt each other, they have a lot of control over their powers. But Diego can control his powers by just… not throwing things and having temper tantrums. Luther doesn’t need to be angry to fuck up with his powers, we see that in the very first episode when he punches the model airplane. Luther can never escape his powers and has to constantly control them, and the idea of uncontrolled powers is his worst fucking nightmare.

So Vanya tells him, “we got in an argument and things got out of control” … like just imagine what must be racing through Luther’s mind when he hears that!

Yes what he does in this scene is awful but you can’t convince me he is doing it with the intention of hurting her. Literally you can see in his eyes as he is choking her how pained he is by this. And he apologizes to her: why would he apologize to her if he was trying to hurt her? And if that was intention… why wouldn’t he just fucking kill her?

I absolutely don’t agree with his decision here but like…. he absolutely is going through a mental breakdown and it doesn’t just stop during The Day that Was/Wasn’t and to act like he is completely stable and in his right mind when he locks Vanya up is just grossly oversimplifying everything! 

Y’all demonizes him over this but completely overlook some of the awful things his siblings have done (Diego going to beat up Five because he blames him for Patch’s death, Vanya killing a ton of random people because she was locked up)…. Like yes: Luther is insensitive, dismissive, and cruel in this scene but it is not his intention to be cruel, it’s obviously his intention to control Vanya’s out-of-control powers, protect his siblings (esp. Allison), and prevent her from causing the apocalypse. It is awful and yes it is cruel but to act like he just doesn’t give a shit about Vanya and/or is doing it just to hurt her is just….. so beyond what the show is portraying.

And I get that you guys really despise him for this, and if you’re going to hate him, fine: but you completely overlook the terrible things all the other siblings do throughout the whole series and write Luther off as evil, which is not cool. Seriously, y’all portray Luther as the literal devil just so that your faves seem like infallible angels and your headcanons and fanfictions seem nicer and more simple………. and honestly I just can’t reason with you. I think some people just hate on Luther and love everyone else because his abuse situation is more complex and they’re just… literally too lazy to do the mental math, so they stick with stanning everyone else whose trauma is more obvious? Even though Luther covering up his trauma (literally) and refusing to talk about/deal with it is a huge plot point in the show, y’all perceive this as him just not having any trauma, or just overook how his trauma affects his actions.

This show isn’t supposed to be “everyone in the family are wonderful, perfect victims and deals with their trauma like angels EXCEPT LUTHER HE IS STOOPID AND EVIL AND ALSO HIS TRAUMA ISN’T DEEP ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!”…… and if you think this then I think you need to do some soul searching? Or actually do some research into abuse and learn that it comes in many different forms and has many different effects?

Again: I don’t dislike any of the siblings. I used them as examples but I love Diego, Klaus and Vanya!!! I respect and understand them all and view them all as troubled souls who are trying.

This show is complex and it’s designed to be uncomfy, and if you simply write it off as having clear victims and villains (except Reginald, he a dick) then you are not respecting the writing or giving the show justice. 

Gerard Way says he wrote Luther based on his own experience of body dysmorphia, isolation….. the show designers say he has self-harmed before, and Tom Hopper has said Luther has been suicidal in the past…. but you know what, go on portraying his trauma as “having it easy” and using violence/cruelty just for fun, even though the show clearly portrays him as a broken man.

~