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assortedseaglass · 2 years ago

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The Seamstress & The Sailor

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Little bit of language.

Word Count: 1.8K

Note: This is really just to introduce the characters and the tone of the piece. I hope you like this little group as much as I do!

May, 1939

“Will you three get out of the way?” Cora Vaughn nudged her youngest sister, Dot, with her shoe as the cake in her hands slid on its plate. Dot was the first to jump up from the doorstep. Giggling, she grabbed the hands of Lois Bennett and hauled her to her feet. She, in turn, took the cake from Cora’s hands and went to place it on the table assembled in the street. Bunting was strung from a few of the lampposts, and newly laundered white tablecloths fluttered a little in the spring breeze. A few of the neighbours’ children ran by, chasing a leather football down the cobbles. The last to move was the middle of the Vaughn girls. Cigarette between her lips, she leant against the door frame, staring steely eyed across the street. Suddenly, she ran forward.

“Careful!”

The old piano her father and Douglas Bennet were wheeling through the front door teetered. Just as her hands found the piano, another pair did the same. She looked up to see grey eyes twinkling back at her.

“Alright, Bess?”

Tom Bennett braced the piano against his shoulder.

“Alright, Tom.”

“You finished the dress then,” he nodded to her.

“Yeah, though I’m not sure on the red. Think it clashes with my hair.”

“I like it, nice to see you wearing dresses outside the dance hall,” he teased.

“Can you two stop your whispering and help?” Fergal Vaughn was going red in the face. Douglas Bennett looked ready to faint. Together the four of them manoeuvred the old upright through the door, and no sooner had it come to rest was Tom jogging to play football with the little ones. After inspecting the strings, Bess joined Cora and Lois once more on the doorstep of the Bennett’s home. Dot was bouncing around in front of them, her freshly curled hair shining in the sun.

“Yes, Dot, we know you’ve got tongs.” Cora said, clicking her teeth.

“Well it’s better than sleeping in rollers every night.” Dot retorted.

“I’d rather sleep in rollers than get up at the crack of dawn to curl my hair.”

“What time is Albie gonna be here?” Lois asked Bess, keen to stop the burgeoning argument.

“In a few minutes, I should say. Queenie Warren’s taken him for a walk around the houses.” Bess replied, watching Tom pick up one of the little boys to stop him reaching the ball. She smiled.

“Not the first time Queenie Warren’s been round the houses!” Dot laughed. Cora smacked her arm with a shush.

“Shit.” Bess threw her cigarette to the curb and ran to the piano. She played the first few chords of Happy Birthday, and the street stilled their activities to join in the song. Albie Vaughn rounded the corner, an overdressed young woman hanging off his arm. He beamed at the sight of them; his family and neighbours assembled around the table as they sang to him, and laughed brightly when Bess began a chorus of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Dot swung her arm around her brother’s neck, causing Queenie Warren to stumble out of the way. Cora placed a hand on her back apologetically before kissing her brother’s cheek. Fergal hugged his son, while Douglas shook his hand and Tom clapped him on the back. Bess was the last to greet her younger brother, kissing his hand and smiling.

“My boy is twenty-one!” Fergal shouted proudly to the street. A cheer rang through the afternoon air and people settled at the table, tucking into the sandwiches and cakes that the Vaughn girls had prepared with Lois’ help. Bess lit another cigarette and resumed her place at the piano. Occasionally, while her fingers worked through ragtime and foxtrot, she glanced over the party.

Cora and Lois were laughing together about something, and it joyed Bess to see them leave their worries behind for a few hours. They had both given so much to look after their families. Fergal and Douglas, too, were laughing. A bottle of beer in each hand, their eyes crinkled in the corners as Fergal gesticulated wildly while telling some story about his life back in Cork. Albie and Dot were walking around, chatting to party guests. At the table, Queenie Warren was applying more lipstick. She leaned towards Tom and looked up at him through her lashes. To Bess’ great delight he ignored her, and instead stood to fill a plate with more food. Bess snorted. Greedy guts. She focussed her attention back on the piano, before something was placed atop it. She looked up.

Tom was leaning on the upright, eyes towards the party. When Bess didn’t speak, he looked round.

“I think we can manage without a few songs while you eat your lunch.” The plate he had placed on the piano was piled with sandwiches and a slice of Albie’s birthday cake. Bess reached for out for a sandwich and popped it in her mouth.

“Thanks,” she said through her mouthful. Tom simply smirked and sauntered back to his seat.

The afternoon carried on with much merriment. One of the old Irish dears from down the road brought out a wireless and a bottle of sherry to share with the Vaughn girls. Despite the warmth of the day, and the sherry, a chill descended with the start of the evening. Albie and Tom were sent to the pub while the girls packed away the party. They sniggered as Queenie Warren struggled to keep up with them in her heels.

By nine o’clock that evening, the Vaughns and the Bennetts were sat around the fire in the former’s kitchen. Albie had stumbled home not half an hour before and was currently asleep in the rocking chair by the hearth. Cora, Bess and Lois were washing up, while Dot looked through one of Bess’ fashion magazines. Tom was still at the pub. From the kitchen table, Fergal and Douglas watched their daughters.

Fergal was so reminded of his late wife each time he looked at his girls. Their dark, copper hair looked aflame in the firelight, and with each glimmer of their eye and hush of their voice he felt as though she were back there with them. Cora and her gentleness, Bess’ steely confidence, Dot with her joy. Thank God for his girls. He turned to Albie and pride swelled in his chest. With his dark curls and eyes, he was the image of his father. But just like his daughters, he too took after their mother.

“Twenty-one,” he said softly, causing Douglas to look up. “And Dot not long off eighteen.”

“Never thought I’d have a family after the war, let alone see them grown,” Douglas said.

“We were the lucky ones.” Fergal said sadly. They both drank to that and fell silent. After a moment, Fergal spoke again. “It does worry me, him being twenty-one.” He gestured to Albie, now snoring gently. “You know, with all this stuff going on in Poland. Sounds just like it was before.”

Douglas merely hummed. Fergal knew he was thinking of Tom.

“You want me to help you get him to bed?” Douglas asked.

“No, me and the girls will manage.” Bess turned and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

By the time the Bennetts had said their goodbyes, and the Vaughns had collectively hauled Albie to bed, it was half past ten. Bess always liked this time of day. She loved her family, adored them, but living in a tiny house with five people left her craving solitude. She was just settling in the rocking chair with a small glass of whiskey when the door to the yard clicked open. Hair ruffled, hands in his pockets, gentle smile directed at Bess was Tom Bennett.

“Wrong house.”

He tutted. “I know,” he drew out the last word teasingly. Bess looked him over.

“Where’s Queenie?”

“How should I know?”

Bess shrugged. “She seemed pretty keen on you,”

“She’s keen on anything with a pulse,”

“You’re well suited then.” Bess slouched in the rocking chair and rested her head against its back. She heard Tom sit at the piano stool and pick a few notes at random to play. “Well, where were you?”

“Who put the pennies in you?” Tom laughed. Bess raised her eyebrows at him in question and he sighed. “Met a man down the pub who said he could get me some car parts.” Tom was used to her silence and accustomed to reading her mind. “For me to flog.”

Bess’ eyes never left his as she took a sip of her whiskey. Tom huffed. He knew she didn’t approve, but sometimes he wished she’d tell him this. Just behave like a normal girl and speak, rather than communicate with him telepathically. He didn’t realise how long their silence had lasted until Bess spoke again.

“Are you ok?”

He considered her before speaking. Tom often found himself at the Vaughn’s late in the evening with just Bess for company while the others slept. He found her quiet confidence calming. Tom imagined Lois and Cora knew that he snuck out to talk to her, but they never said anything. Tonight, though, he wasn’t sure why he was here and so simply nodded.

Bess stood and made her way to the piano and lightly played a melody. Tom copied. She did another four bars, and once again Tom followed. When she nudged his shoulder he looked up to find her warm smile.

“I think you’re the only person who understands me sometimes Bess,”

“Get yourself off to bed. Night Tom,” she rubbed his shoulder and made her way up the stairs. He watched her go, grabbed his jacket from the table and left through the front door, tucking his spare key into his trousers. Just as he went to open the door to his own home across the street, he heard the clicking of shoes on the cobbles.

“Here,” Bess thrust something into his hands as he turned around. “We’ve got plenty. Too much. Goodnight.”

Tom opened the tissue paper and found a few slices of Albie’s birthday cake. He watched Bess disappear back into their house. She didn’t look back.

Note: Things will start to pick up in the next few chapters, I promise! Expect unlikely friendships, angst, gossip, letters, maybe a little sauciness…

The Vaughn girls ages are 24 (Cora), 22 (Bess) and 17 (Dot). I’ve put Lois at the same age as Cora, and Tom at the same age as Bess.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @i-killed-ramsey @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternett @chainsawsangel

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #world on fire #ewan mitchell x reader #the seamstress & the sailor

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blues-sues · 11 months ago

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Ruby with Match!

She may not talk in most of her life, but that doesnt mean she is an anti-social. As a fellow fire type, she somehow could feel the raging heat of the fire around Match in his arc. She would show her concern not by words, but by some gentle movements and gestures. Nope, we won't hear her talking other than audible mewing noise, which is rare too, since both of them dont really prefer having actual verbal conversation. Her way of communicating and showing love/care is act of service, so she would just give Match nice things to lighten his mood up a little. She wont really expect the same comeback from him tho

The pairing!!!

I'm keeping Burn, Moddy is keeping Blaze, Blister... He's going somewhere.

Time for my rambling:

Relationship between parents: Honestly with these two, I believe they're really wholesome. Match being the nervous guy he is definitely appreciates Ruby's support more than they'll ever know. He's definitely very attached and appreciates the company a LOT. He's definitely smitten, even if it's platonic. Would die for her lolol

Relationship with kids:

Ruby; Ruby is definitely favored by Blaze! I think Blaze is the most energetic of the bunch and is very clingy to his mom like a leech. Good luck ever having time away from him, he'll find a way to come back. Blister is rather indifferent but I'm sure he enjoys her company a lot. Likes just sleeping on her back. Honk shoo honk soo. Burn tries to impress her by lighting herself on fire, but who knows how well that works. Watching your child spontaneously combust doesn't do well for nerves.

Match; Match is very nervous around the kids, but Burn definitely tries to help him come out of his shell. Encourages him to join her at social events and brags about her parents anytime she can. Match is flattered but definitely very flustered, not wanting to disappoint her friends after she put him up on such a pedestal! If Ruby isn't around, Blister is definitely clinging to his back and sleeping like a koala. He may look hyper but he's actually tired. He's a fire type so he's always a comfortable warm, ofc he's gonna sleep!

Children info:

Blister, Male, He/him, relaxed nature, often dozes off.

Blaze, Male, He/him, bold nature, mischievous.

Burn, female, she/her, jolly nature, highly curious.

Note: Moddy is free to change any lore regarding Blaze since he belongs to them!

#pokemon #mew #mew oc #crackship meme #blues' crackship

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s10127470 · 10 days ago

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Meet the Fantastic Four (and Family)

Hey guys!

I'm back to introduce another family of the Spider-Man: Family Values universe, this time being arguably Peter's closest superhero allies.

Outfits:

Mr. Fantastic:

Real Name: Reed Richards

Age: 42

Height: 6'3

Weight: 190 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a lean and slightly athletic build, fair skin, short brown hair with his trademark white temples, a beard, and brown eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Causal Outfit: A black sweater with rolled-up sleeves under a blue puffer jacket, tan pants, and grey and white sneakers.

-Intelligent, imaginative, curious, kind, caring, and a little silly.

-Married to Sue and the proud father of Franklin and Valeria Richards.

-Is autistic.

-The godfather of Jo-Venn and N'Kalla.

-Serves as the team's leader.

-One of the most respected members of the superhero community, largely thanks to him and his family being the ones to start the superhero boom of the early 2010s.

-Whenever a collaboration between the geniuses is called for, you better believe he's gonna be there.

-Works part-time as a professor at Empire State University, where he teaches quantum physics.

The Invisible Woman:

Real Name: Susan Storm-Richards

Age: 39

Height: 5'8

Weight: 120 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has an hourglass figure with an well-around build and slightly curvaceous, fair skin, long blonde hair, blue lips, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Causal Outfit: A blue long-sleeved sweatshirt, black leggings, and black and white sneakers.

-Mature, intelligent, kind, caring, understanding, and nurturing.

-First met Reed during college and got with him a few years later, shortly before the rocket incident.

-The godmother of Jo-Venn and N'Kalla.

-Serves as the team's ambassador.

-Just like her husband, she's one of the most respected members of the superhero community.

-Has a degree in archeology and anthropology.

-Works part-time as a guide and creator for The American Museum of Natural History.

The Human Torch:

Real Name: Johnny Storm

Age: 29

Height: 5'10

Weight: 170 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a lean and athletic build, fair skin, spiky blonde hair, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Casual Outfit: A red Hawaiian shirt with an orange flame pattern, tan pants, and red and white sneakers.

-Brash, cocky and hot headed, but also kind, caring, empathic, and loyal.

-Is MARRIED to Bobby Drake aka Iceman.

-The uncle of Franklin and Valerie.

-In spite of his brash and cocky personality, he can actually pretty responsible.

-Is the team's resident mechanic.

-Works part-time at an auto shop.

-Out of the Four, he's the closest to Peter, largely thanks to them being so close in age.

-Just like his sister and brother-in-law, he's one of the most respected members of the superhero community.

The Thing:

Real Name: Ben Grimm

Age: 43

Height: 6'8

Weight: 510 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a broad and muscular build, rocky orange skin, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Casual Outfit: A New York Giant jersey with a 61 on it and tan pants.

-Gruff, tough, caring and loving.

-Is married to Alicia and the proud foster father of Jo-Venn and N'Kalla.

-Is the godfather of Franklin and Valeria.

-Has been Reed's best friend since childhood.

-Serves as the team's pilot.

-Just like the rest of his family, he's one of the most respected members of the superhero community.

-Is Jewish and he's proud to show it.

-Works part-time as a pilot for United Airlines.

Franklin Richards:

Age: 11

Height: 4'5

Weight: 90 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a slim build, fair skin, shaggy blonde hair, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Single

Casual Outfit:

-A jolly little fellow with an active imagination.

-Thanks to being a MUTANT, he possesses powerful reality warping and mental abilities, which accompanies his active imagination. He often bring anything he thinks of to life.

-Currently in the 6th grade.

-Looks up to and idolizes Peter.

Valeria Richards:

Age: 7

Height: 3'11

Weight: 67 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a slim build, fair skin, shoulder-length blonde hair, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Single

Casual Outfit:

-Surprisingly mature and intelligent for her age, along with being quite crafty and witty.

-She's really intelligent! Being almost on par with her father in that regard.

-Currently in the 2nd grade.

-Wants to the become a scientist like her father in the future.

Alicia Masters-Grimm:

Age: 40

Height: 5'5

Weight: 115.lbs

Physical Appearance: Has an hourglass figure with a well-rounded build, fair skin, strawberry blonde hair in a bob-cut, pink lips, and pale brown eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Casual Outfit:

-Caring, sensitive, empathic, and artistic.

-Got with Ben shortly after the Fantastic Four was formed and after several years of dating, they officially tied the knot about four years ago.

-Works as a sculptor and ceramics professor at Empire State University.

-Is the godmother of Franklin and Valeria.

Jo-Venn and N'Kalla:

Ages: 8 and 10

Heights: 4'1 and 4'3

Weights: 90 lbs and 120 lbs

Physical Appearances: (Jo-Venn) Has a slim build, blue skin, black hair in the form of a Mohawk, and yellow eyes. (N'Kalla)! Has a slim build, green skin, pointy green ears, long dark green hair, and green eyes.

Relationship Status: Single

Casual Outfits:

-Were once child soldiers, being forced to constantly duel as Casino Cosmico. But thanks to the Fantastic Four, the two were freed and adopted by Ben and Alicia.

-Are brimming with curiosity about Earth and their customs.

-Whenever they get stressed, they can often let their warrior sides get out of control.

-Currently homeschooled.

Princess:

Age: Unknown

Height: 1'9

Weight: 45 lbs

Physical Appearance:

-Was a stray dog who constantly followed Ben around, much to his annoyance. But thanks to an experience involving an illusion from Miracle Man, Ben grew to become fond of her and eventually decided to adopt her.

-She's a good girl and everyone loves her.

H.E.R.B.I.E.:

Real Name: Highly Engineered Robot Built for Interdimensional Exploration

Height: 2'

Weight: 70 lbs

Physical Appearance:

-The Fantastic Four's robotic assistant build by Reed.

-Loyal and trustworthy until the end!

Iceman:

Real Name: Bobby Drake

Age: 27

Height: 5'8

Weight: 145 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has a lean and athletic build, pale skin, shaggy brown hair, and blue eyes.

Relationship Status: Married

Casual Outfit: A blue hoodie, light blue shorts, blue sandals, and a black durag.

Hero Outfit: A combination of his solo series outfit and his iconic 90s outfit. Has the same look and appearance of the solo series outfit, but uses the color scheme of the 90s outfit. Also he's completely barefooted.

-Witty, confident, fun-loving, but also kind and generous.

-One of the original five founding members of The X-Men.

-Got with Johnny during his college years, and about a year ago, they officially got married.

-Speaking of college, he was Peter's roommate, along with fellow mutant Angelica Jones aka Firestar.

-Has been a close friend to Peter since their early days as teenage heroes.

-Teaches accounting and chemistry at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

-Is Irish Catholic and Jewish.

Well that's all for now!

The next family we'll be looking at are a little more on Peter's level.....

Street-level.

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piplup-at-naranja · 6 months ago

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:o! I decided to go see about the east area since it looked pretty rocky and I found something called a Charcadet!!! Seems like a Jolly little fellow, I'm gonna name it Agni :3

#pkmn irl #pokemon irl #rotomblr #rotumblr #//LEGITIMATELY FOUND A JOLLY CHARCADET FIRST ONE #//It's male- but tbh I'm just so surprised I found a Jolly one first try

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astargatelover · 6 months ago

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First of all 🐱 bonk

second of all - even though or most likely because I know what you'll be talking about: 🦐

😺 Bonk back!!!

Secondly: I was hoping you'd ask that! 🦐 :D

So, my current shrimp emotion story is (as you know) The Fairytale of the 12 Months, or Das Märchen von den 12 Monaten in German; a little German fairytale movie with just under an hour of runtime, loosely based on a Slavic folk tale of the same name.

The Months have actual human form in it, and I go absolutely feral for them, my heart is overflowing with love. ❤️ The temptation was there to just talk about my fave among them here, but I decided no, I love them all, I wanna talk about them all a little bit.

And here's the twist: The creators of the movie decided that 12 is a bit high a number of main characters (and I'm inclined to agree), so not all the Months have the same importance to the story. But because taking background and side characters and giving them life is exactly my thing, that suits me just fine. So, I'm gonna try to write each Month a short description here without making it possible to tell who is one of the (like 4,5, btw) main characters for someone who hasn't seen the movie. Let's see if I can manage to seem confident enough in the Months I don't have as good a grip on yet and hold back on the ones I already do know very well! 😆 Without further ado, here we go:

January: one of the oldest Months. a dignified lady; not fazed anymore by the crazy antics the others get up to. has her own mischievous side too, though.

February: a bit antisocial and grumpy. snarky, rude at times; deep down, tho, he feels underappreciated (and is he wrong? be honest, when asked to rank the months by favorite, where would February be on your list?); longs to be loved.

March: a go-getter; most tenacious problem solver of the Months. pretty, but practical about it. true to her status as the first month of Spring, she likes gardening and taking care of living things (including her Month siblings, in the broadest sense).

April: lives to honor his month's first day; a prankster, but never a hurtful one. nonchalant nearly to the point where it becomes a problem at times. happy-go-lucky, his motto is “Enjoying chaos keeps away strife”.

May: at peace with himself and very relaxed as a result; hard to perturb (April keeps trying). incredibly kind and helpful, enjoys being of assistance to others; does the majority of household chores at the Months' place because he finds it fun.

June: “full of himself” is underselling June's self-perception; vain, cocky, self-proclaimed most beautiful of the Months. stickler for the rules, highly developed sense of fashion; very focused on himself, the only one he adores nearly as much is July, his love. still cares about the rest of the Months and will fight for them when he has to.

July: just as fashion-conscious as June, but much less self-absorbed about it. fashion designer, very joyful and optimistic lady. most outgoing Month; quite unlike her boyfriend, likes to lend a helping hand whenever she can.

August: shyest of all the Months; very unlike her fellow Summer Months, especially. speaks very softly, if at all. loves nothing more than being out in nature on her own; expert flower crown weaver.

September: just as wild and stormy as her month; tomboyish tendencies. temperamental, brisk. cares more about doing what's right than what is correct (clashes with June especially often because of this, among other things).

October: bookish, curious, bit of a recluse. shy and quiet also, but in a different way from August, more of a shut-in than an outdoorsman (gets along splendidly with her, anyway). a painter.

November: grandmotherly vibes. the only Month older than January; overall very kindly and sweet, also likes making sure her fellow Months are well taken care of. knits and sleeps a lot, the latter not always voluntarily.

and last but not least,

December: calling him “jolly” would be an understatement; merriment personified. Warm disposition despite the coldness of his month. Impassioned interior decorator.

And here is the fam, all lined up in order:

That's all twelve of them! Whew, that took longer than I expected! Still, I'm happy with it. (See how I snuck in everyone's genders? Was surprisingly not easy.)

@people who haven't seen the movie: I'd love to hear your guesses as to who the main Months in the movie actually are! I'm curious how well I did.

And if anyone is interested in checking the movie out after seeing this post: It's available for free online and I've translated the whole dialogue into English! If you'd like me to send that to you, hit me up.

#fairytale #fairytales #german stuff #the fairytale of the 12 Months #das Märchen von den 12 Monaten #DMvd12M #truelittleblackstar #thank you so much for the opportunity to talk about this!#this was fun #asks #ask games #my writing #long post is long

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rogue-durin-16 · 2 years ago

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I just love women in suits or in uniform, so can you write BoB with women in suits with the boys just admiring? Can you do Malarkey, Hoobler and Luz? I saw you writing for Shifty and Bull, but their not on the character list. Can I ask for them, too? Sorry if this is too vague.

A/N: OH THIS WAS THE REQUEST. OKAY YEAH NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU WANTED. Also as a fellow woman in suit, this was quite self indulgent. enjoy darling <3

DON MALARKEY

Malarkey would shortcircuit at the mere sight of women in suits. Yes, I will die on this hill.

It all started when he saw Marlene Dietrich in Morocco.

That woman in that tuxedo awakened something in him and it has yet to die down.

Wide eyes at any woman in pants and a tie.

Once he overheard Guarnere commenting on how gals should only wear dresses and skirts and he went out of his way to defend women in suits.

He was a bit too enthusiastic. Now he gets teased every time E Company comes across a woman in a suit.

But they don't understandddd, it's not just the suit, it's the womannnn, it's the power they radiate just by walking.

Bonus points if they wear heels. Malarkey definitely gives off "step on me" vibes.

He desperately wants to date one but whenever he has the opportunity to ask one out in, let's say, a pub, he can't.

Like he PHYSICALLY can't. That sweet, bright charm of his evaporates and he's left being a shy, babbling mess.

When he finally lands one, it's because SHE made the first move. And the second. And the third.

The boys assume Don's pride must be a little wounded but I'm telling you, he couldn't care less, he's over the moon with the whole situation.

DONALD HOOBLER

100% watched Morocco with Malark to understand what the fuck was up with Marlene Dietrich and went down the Amy Jolly rabbit hole.

Like, you don't understand, he got himself a picture of her and carries it around at all times.

Now god forbid Hoobler sees a pretty woman dressed in a manly suit.

He's so sheepish about it good lord.

Toothy grin. Instantly smitten. What's eye contact, he don't know her.

Will try to impress her. Poorly.

Will also not succeed because have you seen the kind of women who wear suits? Yes you have, and you know Hoob is gonna have to try little bit harder.

He's definitely intimidated by them, and that makes them even more attractive, I don't know how to make this one make sense so bear with me.

GEORGE LUZ

He beats around the bush a lot when talking to them but he's relentless. If he wants a date, he'll get a date okay?

He just needs a little push.

Luz was the one making fun of Malarkey becoming unable to function at the sight of women in suit. He started the joke.

Shocker huh. Obviously no, but you know what comes as a shock for him? How hot women in suits are.

Particularly that one Intelligence Officer working with Nixon who often comes and deliver documents to whoever is Easy's Commanding Officer.

She's stunning in her uniform right? Right. Well actually we don't know if she's stunning or if Luz is just utterly smitten by a goddamn C.O.

It's probably the latter but THAT DOESN'T MATTER.

What matters here is that epiphany George has when she comes rushing from Colonel Sink's office without having time to change into her uniform because she was on leave.

She's wearing a beautiful plaid blue three piece —I'm talking trousers, blazer, vest, tie, the whole shebang— and George suddenly understands Malark.

He groans and pretends to melt into the chair he's sitting in. Muck and Penkala find this very fucking amusing.

He's so dramatic about it, like, he wants you to know he is a d m i r i n g you. What he doesn't want to do is tell you.

Luz is the one who gives himself away to Don and I will stand by that.

SHIFTY POWERS

Unlike Malarkey, though, George definitely tries to hit on this one Lieutenant while they're off duty in England, which earns him some serious scolding from Winters and maybe —just maybe— a date from the C.O. he just flirted with.

Cheeky bastard.

He definitely defended Malarkey's interest in suited up women at some point.

Most assumed it was just out of courtesy because this man is a literal angel and everyone was going hard on Malark for absolutely no reason.

Truth is, he sees the appeal.

Yeah he very much sees the appeal.

BULL RANDLEMAN

Very quiet about his admiration so he goes unnoticed but uhhh definitely just as down for it as Don.

Some would underestimate his ability to sweettalk anyone into anything, by the way.

Forget Luz's obnoxiousness, Shifty gives out the most polite, subtle compliments to these women.

What a gentleman.

He probably would ask out a beautiful girl in a suit to everyone's surprise.

To some of them, an affirmative response from the woman would also come as a surprise.

Not for McClung though, he knew Shifty would get her duhhh.

Bull gives Hoob and Malark shit for drooling over Miss Tuxedo but high-key admires the women who wear them.

I don't know if he'd be attracted to them but he definitely thinks they're functional and badass, which he loves.

Specially if they smoke.

Actually, I feel like he would find this very sexy oop-

He would so have a "go girl" attitude whenever they would pass strutting by.

Honestly, I don't think he'd have much of an opinion on this, I firmly believe Bull loves functionality and tradition for him, and a suited up woman isn't very traditional :/.

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Band Of Brothers: @francois-ceverts @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

#band of brothers headcanons #shifty powers x reader #george luz x reader #donald hoobler x reader #don malarkey x reader #bull randleman headcanons #don malarkey headcanons #donald hoobler headcanons #george luz headcanons #shifty powers headcanons #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #bob boys headcanons #bob #easy company

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resident-gay-bitch · 2 years ago

Text

Too Late - Three

summary: You’ve always secretly pined over Eddie Munson, your best friend, but when you find out he’s dating Chrissy Cunningham, you reach your breaking point. you seek comfort from Gareth, your second best friend. you figure out he’s got a crush, but you don’t know who, you were determined to figure it out though. but he was determined to keep his feelings for you locked away forever. but plans change, right?

too late masterlist - find next chapter there :)

The week had gone by fast. Eddie actually sat with you at lunch, but the atmosphere was tense and the conversation was minimal. you spent most of the time, and in classes, berating Gareth about his crush, pointing at girl after girl, just trying to figure out who it was. you were helpless. but today was your birthday, and during lunch (a Hellfire tradition) the boys all stood around the table, singing -no, shouting- happy birthday, and ‘for shes a jolly good fellow’, as you stood on top of the table with a gordy plastic crown on your head. you had to wear the crown the whole day, actually. Everyone in the cafeteria looked at you, but none of you cared, naturally. you laughed a lot, and they finished off with a bunch of hoorays and claps. you stepped towards the corner where you sat to hop down. Eddie reached his hand out to help you down, as he did every single year. but this year, you grabbed onto Gareth’s instead.

you scoffed down your dinner that night, before rushing off to your room to get ready for the gig, and your party. you put on your best leather pants and a loose button up silk blouse, your boots and silver jewellery, the crappy birthday crown sitting atop your head. you rushed out the door and climbed into Gareth’s passenger seat.

“Where’s Jeff?” you asked, he usually picked Jeff and you up before gigs, and Eddie picked up Grant.

“He was at Grants after school, so Eddie’s taking him.”

“oh, okay.” you smiled and nodded and loaded up his stereo with one of his mixtapes.

you kept the volume on low though, so you could talk.

“Happy birthday, again, Jovi.” He smiled at you, a big grin as he drove.

“Thanks!”

“I didn’t get you much,” he shrugged, “the recording studio kind of put a dent in my wallet, but I still got you something.”

“You didn’t have too.” you smiled.

“I wanted to.”

your stomach flipped a little, no, it flipped a lot, “have you sent out the tape to any producers yet?”

“Yeah, we sent a few, but postings are pricey, so we’re gonna save up a bit more.”

“fair enough.” you nodded, “i’ll chip in. I want you guys to get the attention you deserve.”

he smiled, “you don’t have too.”

“I want to.”

He grinned, “Thanks.”

The song changed, Mean Street by Van Halen came on. You groaned. It was an Eddie song… you made him learn it on guitar because you wanted him to embrace the whole Van Halen joke you guys had running. Then, he played it for you, and you fell more in love, and then you’d just constantly jam out to it together. You reached for the skip button, but your hand brushed against Gareths, who was doing the same. Your stomach flipped, your cheeks burned red, and you looked at him, his soft apologetic smile only made it worse. A tingle travelled up your spine, and you laughed nervously, the song changing now. You noticed you’d been having these feelings… those unwanted thoughts of Gareth intruding your mind… no more thoughts of Eddie. Well, hardly any thoughts of him at least. You looked at your lap sheepishly, this was all so new for you. The past five and a half years you have been nothing short of in love with Eddie, and now, not a day has gone past where you haven't thought of Gareth. You didn’t really understand why, you didn’t really want to… you didn’t want to get yourself into another situation where you were in love with your best friend and couldn't do anything about it… you wouldn’t allow it.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.

You looked up at him, wide eyed and a little embarrassed, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You're unusually quiet.”

“Ah,” You shook your head, “just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He leaned a little closer with a smirk.

You laughed, “Hmm, just thinking about Eddie.”

His smile dropped and his grip on the wheel tightened, “Oh?”

“I’m just glad I’m not in love with him really, anymore.”

“Your- your not?” He looked at you with desperate eyes.

“I don’t think so… I mean, the feelings are still there I guess, but they're definitely nowhere near as strong as they used to be.”

“Okay…” He nodded.

“Thankfully, I do not need to be in love with that asshole.” You shook your head.

“Right.” He smiled.

He pulled into the carpark and you both clambered out of the car, Eddie’s van pulled up beside you. You took a few steps around the back with Gareth, waiting to greet everyone. You met Jeff and Grant in a tight embrace, your crown almost being knocked off your head in the process, you laughed. You looked over to Eddie, who had Chrissy tight under his arm, both of them smiling. You stepped over, and Eddie lifted his arm from his girlfriend, stretching them out for a hug. You walked right up to them but reached for Chrissy instead, pulling her in close, leaving Eddie standing awkwardly with his arms out, Gareth laughed.

“Happy birthday!” Chrissy chimed, a soft smile on her face, she handed you a pink little bag.

“Thank you so much!” You took the bag from her and looked inside.

You expected there to be some girly little sundress, or a flowey pattern, something she would wear from somewhere she would shop. But no, inside sat a red leather jacket, the feminist fist embroided in a deeper red on the back. You were speechless, you clutched it in your hand, jaw hung open.

“Do you like it?” She asked so sweetly, “I saw it when shopping with Eddie the other week, it reminded me of you… remember that time when you kicked Andy in the balls for looking up mine and Sandra's skirts?”

“You remembered that?” You asked.

“Of course.�� She smiled so big, “You were totally our saviour.”

“Oh my Ozzy.” You pulled her into another hug, “This is totally awesome, Eddie, your girlfriend is too fucking good for you.”

“I know.” He smiled softly, desperation in his eyes, “Can I hug you, princess?”

You sighed, “Fine.”

He took you into his arms, kissing the top of your head softly, “I miss-”

“No more calling me princess, by the way.” You said into his chest before stepping back, “It’s lost all sentimentality now.”

His smile dropped and he nodded halfheartedly. You pulled on the jacket and hugged Chrissy again before the lot of you headed inside. You and Chrissy found a table together, watching as the guys got set up.

“I’m really sorry about Eddie.” Chrissy reached for your hand.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled, shaking your head, “You want a beer or something?”

“I can't, I’m not twenty one.” She looked so innocent.

You laughed, “You don’t have to be here, babe.” you shook your head.

“Uhm…” She looked up at you leaning closer and whispered, “I– I’m with Eddie… I’m not into girls.”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“You called me babe.”

You laughed again, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise.” you smiled, “It’s a platonic babe. I call most women I interact with, babe.”

“Oh…” She smiled, “Well okay then, babe. I’ll have a… strawberry mojito.”

You laughed, yet again, she was too sweet for a place like this, “You can't get the pretty stuff here, Chrissy. How about I just go see what they got, I’ll find something you like.”

“Okay.” She nodded, her eyes falling back on Eddie.

You hopped up and strode over to the bar, “Hey.”

“Hi there sugar.” The bartender spoke, a short lady with a southern accent and a red bandanna tied around her head, emphasising her bun, “I heard it’s your birthday!”

“Yup.” You grinned.

“Your drinks are on the house tonight, baby.” She winked, “Gotta spoil my favourite customer.”

“Thank you, Annie.”

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll just grab my usual, but ah… what do you think you've got here that a rich, strawberry mojito drinking cheerleader would want?”

“Oh…” She bit her lip as she poured your beer, “Maybe… a seltzer… or a gin and tonic. Oh, hang on, I got somethin’ I can make up for her.”

“You're a doll, Annie.” You smiled and she put your drink up on the bar.

She reached for the top shelf bottle of gin, preparing a drink, “So ah, why is Miss Pretty here?”

“That’s Eddie’s girl.”

“Oh, darlin’.” She tipped her head, she knew all about your long time love for Eddie, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, it’s okay.” You shrugged, taking a sip, “She’s really sweet actually, and I’m getting over him.”

“You are?” Her eyes widened and she plucked a lime out of the tray, sitting it on the side of the drink.

“Yeah…” You nodded, “He kind of started neglecting us when he started dating her, so I started getting over him.”

“Good for you, sugar.” She smiled, chucking you a wink.

“I think–” you spoke a little softer, leaning in as she placed the drink on the bar, “I’ve been getting all giddy and nervous around someone else lately, having dreams about him and stuff.”

“Oh…” she raised an eyebrow, “Anyone I know?”

You nodded, “Yeah, uhm… it’s Ga-”

“Annie!” Gareth walked up to the bar, and you stiffened.

“Gar Bear!” She called back, “Beer?”

“Yes mam.” He smiled, leaning on the bar and facing you, “You look awesome in that, by the way.”

You blushed, smiling big, “You think?”

“It totally suits you.” He smiled and looked at your drinks, “Let me pay.”

You shook your head, he always tried to pay for your drink, “It’s on the house tonight.”

“On the house?”

“It’s her birthday, baby.” Annie smiled at him, handing him the drink, “I’m gonna spoil her all night.”

His jaw dropped in a face offended expression, “We never get on the house drinks on our birthdays.”

She deadpanned him, “You get a free beer every time you play.” She looked over at you, winking, “Plus, she’s my favourite.”

Gareth looked back at you with a smile, “Understandable.”

“Thank you.” You grinned.

“Warning,” Gareth smiled, “Eddie wants to play a song he wrote for you tonight. It’s a little sappy.”

“He wrote me a song?” You quirked an eyebrow looking at Eddie.

“Yeah. It’s called Two Idiots.” He shrugged.

“Hmm. How fun for me.”

“He wrote it a couple of years ago, just never shared it.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Don’t worry though, not all hope is lost. I’ve convinced the band to play Women.” He smirked.

Your face lit up and you jumped a little closer, “Def Leppard’s Women right? You're not teasing?”

“Promise, no teasing!” He smiled, “I knew they’d come around to learning it eventually, so, happy birthday.”

“Ah!” You jumped up and wrapped your arms around him, smiling and full of excitement.

You looked over to Annie, still in a tight hug, and she was making kissy faces at you, teasing. You flipped her off before pulling back from the hug.

“The jacket really does suit you, Jovi.” He smiled, pulling at the zip.

“I know.” you did a little twirl for him, his cheeks blushed red, “Now go on, I wanna hear you play my favourite song.”

“Alright, alright.” He smiled, grabbing his drink and heading back to his kit.

You grabbed your drinks and headed back over to Chrissy. You put her glass down on the table, bringing her attention to you.

“What is it?” she asked.

“No idea, gin something…” You smiled, “Don’t have too many more, Annie put a lot of drink in that.”

“Okay.” She smiled, taking a sip.

“Chrissy…” You smiled.

“Yeah, babe.” She turned to you, and you laughed.

“Are we friends?”

She smiled, so, so sweetly, “Of course we are.”

Your heart jumped a little, “I only ask because I’ve never… I’ve never had any girlfriends before… I've always just hung out with these dweebs.” you drew lines into the condensation on the side of your glass.

“Oh,” She reached her hand out for yours, “well, I’m glad I got to be your first.”

You smiled and nodded, “Thank you for the jacket.”

“Don’t even.” She shook her head, “I was thinking about getting one too, they have a pink one.”

“You totally should, and we can match.”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands, “I love that. I’ll go get one tomorrow. Wear it to school on Monday with me?”

“Yes!” you grabbed onto her hands in excitement and you both giggled.

Everything felt really warm, you were just glad you had a girl in your life.

“Chris?”

“Y/N?”

“Since we're officially girlfriends, can we boytalk?”

“Oh, I love boytalk!” She grinned, “I have not had anyone to talk about Eddie with because all my girlfriends just judge him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, I knew it would happen.” She smiled, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well…” You fiddled with your rings, “I’ve kind of been in love with this guy for years, and I mean, he’s never liked me back, but, now… I think I’m really getting over him. Because… Well, I think I’m into Gareth.”

She gasped, “Yes!” she wiggled, “I can see that, you would be so cute together!”

“But he’s my best friend, and we’ve been best friends for years… which is so shit because I really thought I’d only be in love with one of those assholes, and now–”

“Wait.” Her expression dropped, “it was one of them?”

Your face burned red.

“It was Eddie, wasn't it?”

“No-” you took a sip of your beer, trying to act casual, “It was… Jeff.”

She looked at you, and then at Jeff, “No… no it was Eddie.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head in disagreement.

“It’s okay.” She smiled, “I mean, you said it yourself, he was never into you… and, right from the start you were really nice and welcoming to me. You weren't a bitch, which I thank you for.”

“Chrissy, I– I’m really sorry.”

“Really, it’s okay.” She smiled, “I understand why you didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have told me either.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She shook it off, “You're into Gareth, right?”

“I mean… yeah, I think so… I’m just confused. I think I still have feelings for Eddie… maybe… maybe I just miss my best friend, I’m just confused.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled, “One, you're not the type of person to take another girl's boyfriend, and two, we're friends now, and I trust you.”

You smiled softly, “Thanks Chrissy.”

“Okay…” Eddie’s voice echoed through the dimly lit bar, the microphone sending feedback a second later, “We are Corroded Coffin, and this is Black Sabbath's Wicked World.”

“Oh, they're starting.” Chrissy smiled and sipped her drink.

Eddie turned back and looked at Gareth who counted them in, he hit the cymbal softly, and then Eddie came in with the guitar.

—————————————————————————

“Whooo!” You cheered after Eddie announced that they were playing Women.

The band all looked over to you, and a tipsy Chrissy who was on her third drink, and smiled. Gareth shot you a little wink and your heart dropped in your chest, you grinned big back at him. The guitar started and excitement took over you, Gareth came in with the drums and everything sounded amazing. Eddie started to sing, his voice all raspy, and for some reason, it didn’t soak your panties like it usually did. He was smiling when he noticed you were standing and swaying along. You grabbed Chrissy and pulled her onto the dancefloor, twirling her under your arm and singing along. You looked over to Gareth who had his eyes closed, head banging along with the beat, hair bouncing, he looked… hot. You got very flustered, very quickly… Now your panties were soaking. Eddie sang to the both of you, looking at you and then at Chrissy when he sang the word ‘women’. You both got very into the music, both just enjoying yourselves and encouraging the band. Annie walked over, collecting a few stray glasses and having a quick little dance with you, she twirled you under her arm and whispered into your ear, ‘Drummer boys staring at you, sugar’. You blushed red and looked over at Gareth, who was quick to look away. But you kept your eyes on him, giving him a blush filled smirk when he looked back at you, making him shake his head in embarrassment. The song came to an end and you and Chrissy jumped and cheered, you stuck your fingers in your mouth and whistled. Chrissy tried to do the same but tragically failed. You both took a seat again, chugging some of your drinks as you were puffed out.

“That was fun!” Chrissy shouted, “I’ve never done that before!”

“What?”

“I’ve never danced like that before! Especially not to music like that.”

You smiled, “Well Chrissy, dating Eddie and being my best friend means a lot more dancing to a lot more music like that.”

“Your best friend?” She smiled and your cheeks blushed red.

“I mean-”

“I like music like that, I think.” She took a sip of her drink, “I’m definitely willing to be corrupted by my bestie.”

You smiled, “Awesome.”

“This last one goes out to a very special girl to us tonight…” Eddie smiled, talking to the small crowd of about twelve, “My best friend, and our biggest supporter, the birthday Queen!” He waved a hand dramatically in your direction and Chrissy grabbed onto your arm in excitement.

They started to play, and you just sat and listened to the lyrics. It was sweet, reminiscing about the time’s you'd just sit in his room and get high, or when you came to their rehearsals, when you'd join in with him doing dramatic weird shit. And the chorus came,

And we were just a couple idiots

Growin up in a town to small

The days they pass too fast for us

And the nights spent without you move to slow

And we were just a couple idiots

I just need you close

We were just a couple idiots

Never needed anyone else

You were smiling mad, a blushing mess, looking at the way Gareth's hair bounced, how he scrunched his face up, how his muscles moved, which you could see clearly in the tank he was wearing. You were in awe. You felt Chrissy staring at you and you turned your head in confusion, disappointed you couldn’t stare at Gareth anymore. But that all flew away when you saw her glassy eyes and hurt expression.

“Chrissy, are you-”

“Cut the crap.” She shook her head, speaking softly, “Your a fucking blushing mess.”

“What?”

“You still love him. Don’t even try to eye, I saw you making ooglie eyes at each other.”

“Still love him? He had his eyes closed…”

“What?”

“Gareth… you- I’m confused.”

“No– you were staring at Gareth?” Her shoulders dropped.

“Y– yeah… who was making ooglie eyes?”

“Eddie…” She looked up at her boyfriend, and you did too, and you found him staring back at you.

“Chrissy, I promise you I wasn’t staring.”

“I believe you.” She nodded, standing up in a huff and running to the bathroom.

Eddie followed her with his eyes, his eyebrow furrowing, he looked to you for an explanation. You shrugged and shook your head, chugging the rest of your beer before running after her.

“Chris.” You knocked on the only locked stall, and she opened it, looking up at you sheepishly, “What’s going on?”

“I just thought– He was staring at you.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, “It– it’s a song about me, written by him…”

“I- I suppose.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry, babe.” You wiped her tears with the back of your hand.

“I think I’m just overreacting.” She nodded, “Let’s just go back out, the song’s almost over.”

“You sure?” you shook your head, “I don’t mind sticking in here with you.”

She smiled, “No really, it’s fine.”

She grabbed your wrist and pulled you back out to your table, sitting back down beside you, keeping her hand tightly around yours as you waited for the song to end. You smiled at Eddie, both thanking him for the song and assuring him that Chrissy would be okay. The song came to an end, and Eddie thanked everyone for watching before they started their packup.

“You gonna come to the party?” You asked Chrissy.

“Yeah.” She smiled, “I’m so excited.”

“Awesome.” you grinned.

“My girls.” Eddie smiled, walking over to you, guitar case in hand.

“Ed’s.” You smiled up at him, but Chrissy didn’t say anything, making him stiffen.

“Chris, baby, you okay?”

She reluctantly looked up at him and smiled, “Yeah, I’m great.”

“Okay.” He nodded with a smiled.

“Let’s go baby.” She stood and walked out.

Eddie started to follow, a smiled on his face.

You grabbed his wrist, “You know she’s not actually great, right?”

He furrowed his brows and you laughed.

“Dude,” Gareth slapped a hand on your shoulder, “no idea what you did, but she’s pissed.”

“Really?” He looked over at the doors, “Shit. Y/N, what did I do?”

You put your hands up and shook your head, “No idea man, have fun with that though.”

He rushed out the doors and you turned to the boys, “That was a killer set.”

“Thanks.” Jeff smiled as you pulled him into a hug.

“And oh my Ozzy, you killed it with Women, absolutely in love with your cover.” you looked right at Gareth as you spoke.

“Glad you liked it, Jovi.” He smiled, looking at the ground to cover his blushing cheeks.

You heard a loud shout from outside, it was from Eddie, and he was annoyed, “I think they're gonna need a minute so, how about they just join us later.”

“Yup.” They all nodded in agreement, not wanting to interrupt their argument.

—————————————————————————

You and Gareth were sitting on the pullout that was already made up in preparation for everyone crashing at his tonight, a few air mattresses sat blown up and leaning against the wall, out of the way. Grant and Jeff were outside, having a game of table tennis. You each had a beer in your hands and you were attempting to roll a joint with one hand.

“Let me help.” He grabbed onto the paper and held it still.

“My hero.” You joked before going back to your previous conversation, “So, it’s not Cassy from the swim team?”

“Nope.” He shook his head.

You lifted the joint to your lips, licking along the inside of the paper to keep it in place and he froze. He didn’t have as much restraint with the couple of beers in him, and he felt himself growing very hard. Thank fuck he wore black pants.

“Okay…” you thought for a second, “Oh, Nancy Wheeler, Mike’s sister.”

“No way.” he shook his head.

“What the fuck? Who do you like?”

He laughed, “I told you, you're never gonna get it.”

You grabbed your lighter and held the joint between your lips, lighting it, “You reckon Ed and Chris are gonna get here soon? I really wanna see her high.”

“Ohh, that would be fucking hilarious.” Gareth laughed, watching closely as you took a hit.

Eddie had rocked up however, just then, gift in hand, Chrissy nowhere to be seen. He, however, heard his and Chrissy's name and stood just outside the open door, listening.

“I told her, you know?”

“Told her what?” He asked, taking the spliff from you.

“Well, she kind of figured it out because I’m a blabber mouth and said something a little too close to the truth, but about Ed’s.”

“Oh shit. Is that why she got upset?”

“Nah.” you shook your head, watching closely as Gareth took a hit, “She said it was okay, then she said I was her best friend… well, after I said it first.”

Gareth’s jaw dropped, “Best friends with Eddie's girlfriend?”

You laughed, “I know, it seems like a real bitch move, right?” he nodded at you, “But no, she’s just so… nice. And I’ve never had a girlfriend before, so the fact that she's gonna be around because of Ed’s anyway just makes sense.”

“Well,” He handed the joint back, “I’m glad you got yourself a friend.”

“Thanks.”

“So what does she know?”

“She knows that I was, and maybe still am, in love with him–”

There was a random bang just outside the doorway and you and Gareth hopped up walking over slowly. You stepped out, looking around until you saw a present dropped on the floor. You looked around some more and picked it up.

“That was Eddie.” Jeff called out, quite drunk.

“I don’t know where he went. He just dropped it and ran.” Grant slurred his words.

“Eddie was here?” you asked.

“Just got here,” Jeff smiled, “Said he and Chrissy had a big fight, wanted to give you the present.”

“Right.” You nodded and shrugged, walking back inside.

You put the present down and leant on the counter, taking deep breaths and trying to suppress the heat rising in your face. Gareth reached out, placing a soft hand on your shoulder and you turned into him, crying into his chest.

“What the fuck?” you cried, “First he forgets my birthday, then he doesn’t even fucking stick around for it.”

“Don’t waste your energy on him, darling.” he stroked your hair, “He’s not worth it.”

—————————————————————————

Gareth and you were sitting back on the pullout, the room was dark, only the moonlight shining through the windows let you see. Grant and Jeff were passed out, cuddled up together on the air mattresses, snoring their heads off. You and Gareth couldn’t get to sleep, it was three am.

“Well… then who the fuck is it?” You asked.

“I told you, no.” He shook his head, smiling.

“Come on.” you threw your hands out, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks, you were quite close to each other.

“Nope.” He grinned.

“I’ve literally named every single girl in school and out besides me and Chrissy and you have said no to everyone.”

He looked at you, and the room fell silent (save the obnoxious snoring coming from the ground), he bit his lip.

“Oh.” you whispered.

He swallowed thickly, “Oh.”

Your nose twitched and you felt your emotions running back, “Really?”

“I’m- I’m sorry-”

“Why?” You cried out.

“I mean- I’ve told you before I think-”

“What is so fucking great about Chrissy that isn’t great about me?” you pulled at your hair, “The two guys I’ve ever been interested in are both in fucking love with Chrissy!”

“No- wait… you're into me?” He stiffened, heart pounding in his chest.

You slowly look back to him, eyes wide, “I– I’m sorry-”

“I’m not in love with Chrissy.” He shook his head, “I told you, I’ve always thought you were prettier.”

You looked up at him, desperation in your eyes, “You… you don’t?”

He shook his head, “It’s you I'm in l- I like.”

“Gareth…” You shook your head.

“You remember that party, the one where you kissed Eddie.” He smiled, you nodded, “Well, I don’t know if you remember but, we got sent into that closet too. And I remember, you looked so pretty, and you were so sweet, and you had matched the colour of your socks to your necklace and your braces.”

You laughed, “What?”

He nodded, “I remember, it was blue. And you were really sweet to me, and then you went in for a kiss–”

“I remember.” You smiled, “You started hyperventilating and you had to take your inhaler.”

He laughed, “Yeah… I was so nervous the whole night. I was praying that the bottle would land on you because I just wanted to kiss you so bad. And then I fucked it up because you holding my hand was too much for me to handle.”

“Oh my god.” you laughed.

“Yeah.” he smiled, “But, I remember, you sat with me for the next five minuets, just calming me down, being really sweet, assuring me we didn’t need to kiss if I didn’t want to. And you roughed up my hair, and told me to put some spit on my lips, and you pinched my cheeks so they'd go all red and you did the same to yourself… and you gave me your scrunchie to wear so when we walked out it looked like we made out.”

“Yeah, I remember.” you blushed a little, “I told all of the girls I was sitting with that you were the best kisser out of all of the guys there and that I wished I had more than seven minuets.”

“Oh, that explains why they were all trying to eat my face off after.”

You laughed, and it came out as a snort, “Oh god. I'm sorry.”

“You should be.” He teased, “They were all massively let down.”

“Come on, you're being modest.”

“I'm not kidding.” He laughed, “They all leant in for a kiss and then left the minute they realised how awkward I was.”

“That explains why they were all laughing and judging me.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Nah, they were all bitches.” you smiled.

“Well…” He laughed nervously, “Those seven minuets actually were heaven for me. It’s where my feelings for you really kicked in.”

You smiled softly, “Sorry, I had no idea… and I know how shit that feels.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, well. What are you gonna do?”

You smiled and hopped up, walking outside. Gareth sat there, confused out of his mind. You walked back inside, holding an empty beer bottle, and you sat back down in front of him. You placed the bottle between you and spun it. Gareth's heart raced, his cheeks burned red and he thought this was a dream. Your body flooded with nerves, and you bit your lip. You watched the bottle spin, guiding it a little with your finger to make sure it landed on him. And when it did, you looked up at him, and he was just staring at you.

“Oh, look.” you whispered, “It landed on you Gar Bear.”

He nodded slowly, “It did.”

You swallowed thickly, “You know what that means?”

“That I’m dreaming?”

You laughed softly and leant in, pushing the bottle aside, he didn’t move one bit. You stopped right in front of his lips, his warm breath panned over your face and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Can I?” you asked, barely a whisper.

He nodded, “Please.”

You smiled to yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut and you pushed your lips into his. It was heavenly, his lips were so soft, the faint taste of weed, beer, and vodka lingered. He sunk into it, heart fluttering, his hands coming up to cup your face so softly. You pulled back, cheeks flushed red.

“Was that okay?” You asked softly.

“Okay?” He asked desperately, “That was… better than I dreamed it would be.”

You bit your lip, hiding a smile, “I– I really liked that too.”

He nodded softly, taking your hand, “Okay, can I… ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Would you like to… go out with me sometime?”

You smiled, “I’m free tomorrow night, there’s a screening of Nightmare On Elm Street showing at the drive in.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven, we can get dinner before?”

“Sounds perfect.” you smiled.

“Cool.” He blushed.

“Gareth,” he nodded in response, “do you reckon I could kiss you again?”

“Yes. You can kiss me anytime you want.”

“Okay, good.” You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was longer, more passionate, a little slip of tongue, nothing too fancy though, nothing too eager, you were both pretty tired. You pulled him down so your head hit the pillow, wrapping your arms around him and giving him one last, soft kiss before guiding his head to rest on your chest. His arms linked tightly around you, and you sifted your fingers through his hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, and letting yourself fall asleep.

#jay writes #too late #gareth emerson #gareth x reader #gareth x fem!reader #bestfriends to lovers #angst #fluff #smut #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #hellfire #corroded coffin #stranger things #stranger things 4 #best friend chrissy #eddie is an asshole

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whatyourusherthinks · 7 months ago

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Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare Review

Just a poster for this film chaps! I had no idea such a display would enter the cinema otherwise. But that Guy Richie fellow, he makes quite the romps, doesn't he. I still remember my first introduction to his tomfoolery being the first Sherlock Holmes movie starring Robert Downey Jr. What a cracking time that was! *Brick crashes through my window telling me to stop with the British accent*

What's The Movie About?

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare tells the tale of the recently declassified Operation Postmaster, where a group of agents set out to disrupt a Nazi supply chain to Uboats in '41.

What I Like.

Well, it's a Guy Richie movie, so the style is off the charts. The characters are incredibly charming and the violence is fun, fast, and flowing. The movie is basically Inglorious Basterds, but instead of Americans it's the British and there's nothing about the power of movies saving the day. And there's really nothing else to it. I could go into detail about the characters and the plot, but it's just a string of charming characters killing some of the worst people in history. If that's not enough for you, I dunno what to tell you. I guess I should add I really liked all the historical character that I noticed. Ian Fleming is in the movie. I didn't know what the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare was about before going in to the movie, so it was a pleasant surprise when the writer of James Bond turned up. There's also a coda at the end that tells you what happens to all the main characters after the movie and I liked that.

What I Didn't Like.

The style and violence is great, but maybe the Nazis went down a little too easily. I mean, they are Nazis. I love watching those goose-stepping bastards get their shit kicked in, but it feels like the main characters are never in any physical danger ever. Even the movie gets that at one point. They set up a fight between the giant Danish guy with an axe versus an entire Nazi squad with machine guns, and it's played like "Yeah yeah, we know how this is gonna go." They don't even bother to show the fight too. That's lame. My final complaint is that Churchill is a big presence in the movie, and the guy playing Churchill does not look ANYTHING like the real one.

Final Summation.

This movie is jolly good fun! *Brick that says 'Seriously, stop!' flies through my already broken window* If you like watching highly competent people doing what they do best, killing Nazis, they you will love this movie. And as a bonus, you might learn a little bit about history!

#Ministry ofUngentlemanly Warfare #Recommended Movies

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wellntruly · 2 years ago

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M*A*S*H - Viewguide, S4

Are you interested in the long-running anti-war situation tragicomedy M*A*S*H (1972-1983), but there are simply so many asterisks and so many episodes?

Well I can’t help you with the asterisks, but nor can I help myself: I started watching all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H, and bringing back for you my viewing selections, chosen for The Qualities.

— — —

In which we lose two of the three top billed cast members and gain two new ones, a couple of the regular writers and directors also seem to cycle out, and in the ensuing slightly confused flooding of our previously steady stream, Frank is sinking like one of those water-logged stumps, someone seems intent on trying to keep Margaret from also getting dragged down by him through the approach “she’s just not around again, idk,” Radar is somehow swimming up-stream and now seems several years younger than he was when we started, and Alan Alda is piping up more and more to point out the banks and steer us into deeper waters, and if he’s also maybe altering our course just a little, let him.

Meanwhile, TIMESCALE: we learn in the opening scene that the first three seasons have timelooped for "just over a year” :) elated with this data :))

And so we enter M*A*S*H, Part Two:

M*A*S*H - Season 4 Recommended sequence

4x01-02 ‘Welcome to Korea, Parts 1 and 2' - Acting CO Frank Burns really thought he was going to get to mold their new doctor Hunnicutt into a Mini Frank, but did not account for Hawkeye Pierce, on a desperate scramble to the airfield, to pick him up while still reeling and reckless from having just lost his best friend, and in this, one of the most riveting figures BJ has ever encountered. TOO LATE, he got his hands and damage all over him already! Anyway I helplessly detailed exactly what goes down in these if you are BJ Hunnicutt (BJ…Hunnicutt) in my increasingly disclosing notes, so stay tuned for that.

4x04 ‘It Happened One Night’ - Not to be a weirdo and skip to Colonel Potter already being here, but this one is really good. This is one of my quiet favorites of the season. And I think this works so much better as the one to follow the two-part premiere actually. Hawkeye and BJ aren’t quite in sync yet—this is accurate. Hawkeye and Margaret continue to get more in sync—this too is accurate. Lots of Klinger (LOTS of Klinger) (hirsute…), Radar being so irritated with the chaotic bumbling of the new private is so funny, and you’re still getting a good impression of our small, forthright new CO: regular Army, but you know what? Maybe…our regular Army. And that could rule actually. Oh: AND EVERYONE’S SO COOOLD. My fav-orite!

4x05 ‘The Late Captain Pierce’

BJ: “For he was a jolly good fellow…” Hawkeye: “I was much too young to die.”

A clerical error renders Hawkeye legally dead. M*A*S*H x Catch22 for real, murder me. And, five episodes into the new season of an episodic sitcom and they were still letting Hawkeye be torn up over those he’s lost, and have this wholly new emotional register with his new friend BJ, way longer for both than I’d thought they would let him have. But y’know, Alda got to direct this one.

4x09 ‘The Kids’ - Great TV show setup: learn things about the characters by how they read bedtime stories to dislocated orphans. If you guessed, “oh yeah, and that’s gonna create the moment where Hawkeye finally lets himself start to fall in love with BJ,” you are a better guesser than I!! But man what a good choice. Alda. (Back in the chair.)

4x10 ‘Quo Vadis, Captain Chandler?’ - I just adoooore Dr. Sidney Freedman. Any scene with Sidney in it: a balm. Here he returns for the episode in which the 4077th gets a wounded soldier who says he’s Jesus Christ. Meanwhile, Radar is now twelve.

4x16 ‘The Price of Tomato Juice’ - I was trying to describe the format of these kinds of chain of wants & favors episodes to Jody and she was like, oh, you mean it’s like the Deep Space Nine where Nog explains The Great River of Commerce. Yes exactly.

4x19 ‘Hawkeye’ - They gave the rest of the regular cast the week off and just had Hawkeye monologue with a concussion for 25 minutes, ambling around a Korean family’s farmhouse with surprisingly disconcerting candy apple red syrup creeping from his temple, live-narrating his own self-diagnosis, doing snippets of musical numbers, and just generally rambling as he tries to keep from fainting before his rescue arrives. A lot of oscillating between being about to keel over and quashing down his fear to put on a blithe front for an audience who can't even understand him, and a beautiful cow. In short, crafted for me special! I actually made this meme to explain to a friend why I was so undone by The Fabelmans (dork alert), but the thing is, it always worked because it was also about what it's about:

4x21 ‘The Novocaine Mutiny’ - Frank brings Hawkeye to trial for mutiny. He could, wildly, literally hang for this, but most of all: you bet there’s a Rashomon (scream).

4x25 ‘Deluge’ - I don’t know what to call these exactly, but they tend to do a couple of them a season. Usually, not always, they’re letter writing shows, with the letter narration forming the framework instead of an overarching plot, letting them do just a sequence of scenes somewhat related. Bullet point stories. This one however the scenes are intercut not with something else from the world of M*A*S*H, but actual historic footage from the period, in easily the most artistically experimental episode they’ve done yet. It’s all jarring juxtapositions of a very long surgical run with what was on TV back at home in 1952, with a jarring editing rhythm to match, which wasn’t fully working for me and then soooo working for me. Bit of an ‘O.R.’ echo, but so much odder and dreamier, in like a David Lynch way, and I think the sensation is well worth the list.

4x26 ‘The Interview’ - Anndd then you do this one next, which follows on the previous one almost like a brief bit of serialized storytelling. It’s all black & white and everyone is just being interviewed by a TV journalist about how they are (not) getting through it. At one point I paused to write this and let out a shaky yelp at discovering I was only 9 minutes in. At another point I had to pause to create my own break where there would normally be one just to let out mooore shaky sounds at an image Father Mulcahy had just described that will be lodged in my mind for the rest of my actual, actual life. Happy Season 4 Finale!!

Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3 • Season 4 • To be continued

#M*A*S*H hours

#viewguides #M*A*S*H #M*A*S*H hours #Tarra watches

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marvelmaniac715 · 2 years ago

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It’s December 2nd! For anyone who’s read my fics or seen my profile, you’ll probably know that instead of an advent calendar, this year I’m writing a fic every day this December, each one focusing on a specific Christmas in the life of Charles Lee Ray. Some will be happy, some will be sad, but all of them should be a lot of fun. Yesterday was baby Chucky, so today must be… toddler Chucky! Enjoy it, it’s one of the only remaining light hearted ones.

————————————————————

Charlie padded down the stairs in his footie pyjamas. It was the early hours of Christmas morning, and for a three year old boy, this was the most dangerous and exciting adventure that he’d ever have.

It was a really hard mission. But he had a plan, and he was gonna succeed. He was going to be the first kid in the world to catch Santa. When he had the Holly Jolly old man, he was gonna get so many toys out of him that no other kid would have anything left to ask for. He might give some of the toys to the kids at his playgroup, if he was feeling nice.

It was hard to be extra quiet, making no sound as he walked. Mama had called this ‘tiptoeing’. When he’d asked her for help in catching Santa, she had told him that only bad boys did that. But she’d told Charlie that he was on the nice list, so that must be a mistake.

He was at the bottom of the stairs now and was about to turn into the living room, where his stocking and the tree were. There was no better place to capture a re- a rec-a reclusive animal (he always struggled with that word) than in it’s natu-natura-natural (that word too) habitat. He’d laid out the most delicious cookies that he’d baked with Mama a couple days ago (he got to lick the bowl!) and the biggest glass of milk he could find (he’d spilled it twice on the way to setting it down on the table).

These delicious treats weren’t to reward the Holly Jolly fellow, oh no, they were to trap him. When he came down the chimney he’d get him. He’d brought his Little League baseball bat and had been practicing his swing for months now. Daddy was knocked over the last time he practiced.

But, the cookies looked so yummy. They had triple chocolate chips and that was his favourite flavour. Surely one little bite, and a couple sips of milk, wouldn’t hurt? Santa wouldn’t even notice…

————————————————————

He woke up in his bed that morning, milk still around his mouth. There was a note taped to his stocking.

He asked Mama to read it when he managed to coax her out of bed to open the stockings. It read:

“Little boys who stay up late don’t get to see Santa.”

His bottom lip wobbled, but he didn’t cry. But then he opened his stocking. At the very top, mixed in with the small wrapped presents, was a lump of coal.

#chucky #chucky series #charles lee ray #christmas #toddler chucky #horror #fanfiction #childs play

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shaundoed · 1 month ago

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Summer Tyme with the Collectors: Chapter 1

Father Christmas: Like most fairies, Father Christmas' origins are shrouded in mystery, and therefore confused in various versions of folk lore. Also referred to as Saint Nick/Nicholas, Santa Claus, Big Red, and Kris Kringle, it's easy to see how this legend gets obscured.

Common truths and understandings of Father Christmas paint him in a positive light. He calls the northernmost point of the human realm home, spreads joy and wonder among their children, and is often pictured as being a happy, jolly fellow in mostly red attire. This image was popularized by the Coca Cola Company, who featured him in advertisements for their flagship beverage in the 1930s. It's unclear whether Father Christmas himself is a frequent enjoyer of ice cold Coke, but it is not uncommon to see images depicting him with a bottle of just that in his mittened hand.

It is known that he has an army of elves at the ready. These refugees of the fae realm are understood to tirelessly work on toys and other delights, which Father Christmas delivers to the children of the world once every year. Attempts have been made to inspect the workshops, but none who have gone have ever managed to return. Foreboding, admittedly, but there's little reason to suspect wrong-doing.

When Summer was little, a decade and change before a fateful day in a distant jungle, she had a different kind of fateful day. Her first lost baby tooth lay in the palm of her hand, a tissue in the other to stop the slowing trickle of blood. Proud parents beamed at each other, turning their attention to their daughter as they warmly congratulated her on the milestone.

“Look at that!” her mother said with shivering glee.

A tight hug followed, along with a kiss to her cheek even as the mildly frightened girl fought to contain the bleeding gap between her remaining teeth. She looked to her father, also kneeling down to her level, and the joy in his bearded face helped provide a sense of calm. The big man was always a good source for composure, and now was no exception. Despite the taste of her own blood, a giddy giggle shook from around the tissue.

“We'll need to put that under your pillow tonight!” he said with his deep voice, an excited tone making it a bit louder than normal. “Gonna have a visit from the Tooth Fairy!”

They'd been talking about the tooth fairy for days, weeks even. As soon as she told them of her loose tooth, it was tooth fairy this and tooth fairy that. Now, it was finally time! Night couldn't come soon enough, she'd finally have her own visit! Her own bit of magic, that she wouldn't have to share like when Santa or the Easter Bunny came. It was like her own holiday, a fairy coming to visit her!

She insisted on wearing her nicest dress for the occasion. It was meant for Halloween, but one night before the big day wouldn't hurt. Mom could clean it, anyway. The sequins and sewn in jewels sparkled as she climbed into bed, her honey-yellow skirt bunching up around her legs when she laid down. Emerald lace tickled the side of her face, but she would look the part of someone welcoming a fairy, no matter how uncomfortable sleeping in a princess dress might be! Her parents smiled as they tucked her in, sliding the tooth under her pillow before her mother began a bedtime story.

It was one of her favorites, but she couldn't even try to listen as her mother went through the tale. Every changing voice she did so well, and the loving hands gingerly tickling her through the blanket did little to distract her from what lay beneath her head. She made it all the way to the end, hearing her mom finish the story with “happily ever after,” and was only a little bit sleepy. The fingers she had in her mouth, the same two she always sucked when sleep was so annoyingly close, felt the awkward absence of her tooth, and she wondered if it still rested under her pillow.

The light clicked off, leaving her in the dark. Only a brave puppy night light warded away the inky black of night, and she hardly noticed as the illuminated puppy led her into sleep. Random dreams plagued her as she fought to keep the rest of her teeth from falling out. She hadn't checked if her lost tooth was still under her pillow, but now her pillow and bed were nowhere to be found. The ocean crashed and rocked all around her ship, not unlike the one she was made to tour when her family went on that cruise. Every wave sent another tooth from her mouth, and she chased after them down narrow halls and into her classroom.

No one had teeth in the classroom, except for their teacher. Mr. Vanderbilt was being swarmed by flying teeth, swatting at them and crying for Summer to help. All of her classmates turned to look at her as she stepped forward to help, unsure of what she could really even do, and the weird dream turned nightmare. Toothless grins grew wide all around her, and her friends slowly stood up from their seats. Their faces were wrong, featureless as they kept rising, growing taller and more foreboding. She stepped back, shrinking away from the monsters surrounding her until they reached in and took her by the arms.

“Summer? Summer?” her father asked with growing concern.

She woke back in her room, her heart racing and eyes going wide as soon as they opened. Her throat hurt as though she'd been screaming, and based on the expressions her parents wore, that might not have been far from the truth. Dad's hands were on her arms, and she was sitting up with him standing beside her bed. He held her firm, but his strong grasp was gentle as he coaxed her from the nightmare.

“Scary,” she huffed, drawing in another breath and letting her father provide comfort. “That was so- so scary.”

“It was just a dream, sweetie?” mom supplied, though it sounded like a question. She sat on the bed beside her, an understanding hand sweeping up her blanket-coated leg.

Summer nodded, rubbing her head as her father sat beside her mother. She fought the urge to cry, not wanting to let the bad dream sour her appearance for her special guest. A gasp shot into her lungs as she sat up straighter, and she looked expectantly at her parents. Concern was washed away from their faces with a greater enthusiasm, and she kicked her foot away when she felt her father pinch one of her toes.

“Did she- did I miss it?” Summer asked excitedly. She turned and picked up her pillow, delighted and disappointed all at once.

There, where her tooth had been, sat a single, shining silver dollar. She picked it up with a wide smile, catching her reflection in the coin as she held it before her face. Under the coin was a little note, and a small scattering of glitter.

“What does the note say?” dad asked, bringing her attention to the note before she really noticed it.

Lifting the pillow a little further, Summer could see there was a tiny piece of paper. It glinted in the light as it fluttered from the pillow’s movement, and she slapped her hand down in pursuit of the small paper. Glitter spread from her striking hand, and she giggled as the shimmering dust settled on her skin and the sheet below. She fetched the note and held it up, turning the paper over in order to find where the fancy writing seemed to start.

“I can’t read it,” she said with some frustration. “It’s in weird scribbles…”

Seeing his daughter’s cute face so focused on the small note, no bigger than the coin in her other hand, Mr. Tyme gently reached for her arm. His hand held her forearm, relaxing her features as she looked up at him. From behind her father, Mrs. Tyme fell in love with her husband all over again, cherishing the bond that was so clear between father and daughter. She smiled while sliding an arm over his shoulder, and their daughter sighed as she watched her mother’s face settle beside her father’s.

“Ohhh,” her father said, nodding his understanding. He’d written the note in cursive, momentarily forgetting that his daughter hadn’t yet learned to read or write in that style. Before his mind could get lost in a tangent of whether or not the schools would even bother teaching the dying skill, he shook his head and chuckled. “Must be Tooth Fairy-ese.”

A snort burst from beside his face as her mother suddenly pulled back, trying to refrain from laughing too much. “Tooth Fairy-ese?” she whispered behind him with a playful poke to his ribs.

After flinching from the jab with a smirk, he made a show of “translating” for their daughter. “Dearest Summer,” he read, squinting and turning the letter as though struggling to make sense of the inscription. “Congratulations on losing your first tooth! Here is one dollar, just as shining as the ivory gift you’ve given. More will surely come as you get older, and more offerings are presented. Be good, and listen to your parents. Especially your father, because he is so charming and good looking. Yours, the Tooth Fairy” He turned to smirk at his wife, who delivered another knuckle-jab to his ribs.

Summer rolled her eyes as her parents got lovey, kissing on her bed, and made her feigned disdain known with an audible, “Eeewww!”

“See?” her father said with a grin, holding out the sparkling note for her to inspect. “Says it right there in Tooth Fairy-ese, plain as day! The Tooth Fairy thinks I’m cute!”

Glitter clung to her fingertips as she took the letter from her father. Her parents bickered playfully before kissing again, but her attention was focused solely on the glinting sheet in one hand, and the shining coin in the other. There didn’t appear to be enough written on the note to say all her father had read, but she couldn’t make sense of the strange markings. She would just have to take him at his word, for now. Perhaps, in time, she would be able to find someone else who could help her read what it said?

She stashed the note in her keepsakes box - an ornate box handed down to her by her grandmother. It was slightly larger than one of the boxes her shoes come in, and made of wood. Intricate designs were carved into the wood; flowers, clovers, rainbows, horseshoes, even a unicorn on one side. On the top was the word “Keepsakes,” and the front had a metal clasp firmly secured that she could easily use to lock and unlock the box. She unclasped her box and set the dollar onto a cardinal feather she’d found earlier in the year. On top of that went the note, and she gave her lucky marble a quick rub before placing it back into the box and locking it up again.

Within another few months, Summer was in a similar situation. Another baby tooth had emerged from her mouth, making way for an adult version. She held it up proudly for her parents to see, and they prepared their daughter for another visit from the Tooth Fairy. The dress was already nearly too small, but she still managed to fit into it for a night with the tooth under her pillow.

Mrs. Tyme regaled her with a tale of a little girl who lost a tooth, much like herself. She listened intently, completely absorbed in the story as the little girl begged the Tooth Fairy for a puppy, or a kitty, rather than the quarter the fairy had intended to leave. Many times, Summer had to keep herself from interrupting, fearful that correcting the story would result in her own reward being lowered from a dollar. If the girl in the story only got a quarter, then what’s keeping the Tooth Fairy from ripping her off just as bad? After finishing up the story, with the girl having learned a lesson in being thankful for what you’re given rather than pleading for more, her mother tucked her in with a kiss to the forehead.

“Good night, sweetheart,” she said with that special glint in her eyes.

Summer smiled back and rolled onto her side, the pair of fingers in her mouth making it difficult to get her own “good night” out. Her mouth felt odd again with another tooth missing, but she was excited at another chance to see the Tooth Fairy. Heavy eyes drifted shut, leading her into sleep with the brave puppy shining bright in her darkened room.

Another frightening dream plagued her through the night. Shining coins, large enough to crush her, rolled after the small girl as she ran screaming down her street. Every scream sent another tooth from her mouth, and each tooth twisted itself into a coin, the sinister face mocking her as they all chased her down the road. Eventually the coins caught up, and she felt the ground rumbling beneath her feet as they rolled circles around her. Rough vibrations shook up into her knees as the surrounding coins crept closer and closer, their menacing presence making her crouch low and pray that they just leave her alone.

“Summer!”

She wakes with a scream, shaking her leg from her mother’s hand. Her mother had been holding her knees so tight through her blanket and dress, that she still felt her fingers on her legs even as her hands now reached for her face. Mr. Tyme rushes in a moment later and drops to his knees beside the bed with his wife. The look of concern on his face did little to comfort their daughter, but his warm hug brought a stillness no words ever could.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, more to his wife than his daughter.

Mrs. Tyme began to answer, but was cut off when Summer provided a response. She wiped a tear away and fought through a sniffle, needing to be strong for her father.

“Just a bad dream, daddy,” she said, wincing as another sob trembled from her chest.

Her father hugged her again, and she felt her mother’s fingers scratching down her back. Despite the situation, she liked the reminder of how much her family loved her. She held them tightly, letting their warmth push the lingering memory of her nightmare away, not even remembering the previous bad dream.

“Did the Tooth Fairy come, at least?” her dad asked, his tone shifting from concern to something more jovial.

“It’s hardly midnight,” her mother chimed in, “I doubt she’s had a chance to visit…”

But Summer was already checking under her pillow. Her parents’ hands remained on her back, their comforting presence encouraging her, and she gasped when she saw the much less frightening, motionless coin sitting atop another note. A short streak of glitter extended from the pair, giving them the appearance of a comet on her pink bed sheets.

“She came! She came!” the delighted girl exclaimed, holding both the silver dollar and note in one hand. Summer held the tiny note in front of her as she let the coin fall to her blanketed lap, wondering if the Tooth Fairy liked, or even noticed her fine attire. There wasn’t any mention of it last time, and this time it felt like a much greater sacrifice. Again, the note was written in that same, strange writing. She’d forgotten to try to find someone else to read it, and was forced to let her dad translate once more.

“Dearest Summer,” he started, adjusting his voice to a higher pitch in an effort to sound like the Tooth Fairy. ‘As if he knows what she sounds like,’ she thought with an eye-roll. “I was so pleased to find another tooth under your pillow! They’re simply the best teeth, and I cannot wait to collect more. Don’t forget to be good to your parents! Especially that hottie dad of yours, he’s a wonderful guy!”

“It doesn’t say that!” she retorts, taking the note from him when he holds the glittering paper back out.

Her father giggles as he receives another poke to the back of the ribs from her mother, but the girl still can’t read the cursive inscription. It’s too small, and the curling, sweeping letters are as good as foreign to her. Even so, she’s another dollar richer, and has another piece of Tooth Fairy memorabilia for her Keepsakes box. The note and dollar join the first pair, adding to her growing collection. She gets tucked back in and quickly falls back to sleep, her dreams much more peaceful for the rest of the night.

With another blink, Summer is closing in on seven years old. In her hand is her third escapee. She now has a steady allowance of two whole dollars a week for helping clean up around the house, so getting another dollar, no matter how shiny, isn’t quite as appealing. So many of her friends at school have siblings, and often talk about the fun things they get into together over the weekend. So, rather than money, when she places her tooth under the pillow, what she really wants - more than anything else in the whole world - is a little brother. Or sister, really. She won’t be picky.

Her eyes get heavy as her mother tells her a sweeping bedtime story. The tale continues as she sinks into a cozy sleep without even realizing it, with the waking world seamlessly giving way to her dreams. Unlike previous visits, these dreams were far more pleasant than the nightmares she’d suffered. As the night wore on, Summer wandered deeper into the unconscious fantasy within her mind, eagerly following butterflies into an endless field of flowers.

As Summer races forward after the colorful butterflies, she can almost swear that she can see a human shape between the wings. They dart around so recklessly that it’s hard to say for sure, but something about them makes her doubt their insect nature. Every time she has a moment to focus, or is close enough to reach out for one, the ground beneath her feet dips with an unexpected hole, or she nearly trips over a branch concealed by the vibrant flowers. The lush scent of the dozens of varieties of flowers overwhelm her in the best way, and she’s quickly distracted by the growth all around her.

The flowers tickle her hands as she sweeps her arms through the waist-high growth. Every shade and tint of blue, violet, red and yellow duck and weave from her passing arms, and when the pollen spreads up her arms and onto her blouse, she smiles warmly at the familiar smell of her father. Birds somewhere in the distance as dozens of bees hum down towards her, but she doesn’t feel any fear of the approaching swarm. There’s something familiar to the sound surrounding her, and as the bees tickle her while collecting the pollen, she realizes they’re copying a song her mother often hums while cleaning around the house. She feels warm, happy while the bees gather their pollen and take flight. The butterflies dive and fly rapid circles around her once the bees have left, and-

A comforting hand glides up her back as her eyes drift open. The dream tumbles from her mind while her mother soothingly rouses her from her sleep, welcoming Summer to another day. As is much too often the case, memories of the dream slip from her grasp with every breath until only random fragments remain, and she rolls onto her back under the blanket.

“Good morning, sweetie,” her mother says with a soft smile.

“Get another visit from the Tooth Fairy?” Mr. Tyme asks from the open door.

Summer suddenly remembers what she’d wished for while placing her tooth under the pillow. With wide eyes, she quickly turned and snatched her pillow out of the way… only to find another stupid dollar coin and glittery note? Her brow furrowed as she retrieved the coin and tiny paper, sitting on her bed as she recognized her father’s handwriting within the sparkles. Pieces fell into place in her mind, but she tried her best to keep the disappointment from her face as she held the paper out for her father.

“It’s another note,” she said with a slight smile. “Can you read it?”

Her father grinned as he stepped forward and took the note. Summer curled and turned her fingers, focusing on the shimmering glitter more than whatever counterfeit words her father was rambling off. A gentle hand rubbed up and down her back, and she suspected that her mother knew. She glanced up into her mother’s face, looking for clues at the extent of the deception. Was it just her father placing notes under her pillow? Had her mother been in on it, too? Did they leave the money as well, or was there some magic involved in this whole thing?

Deep laughter snatches her from her thoughts. She looks at her father, who was chuckling in the way he usually does at his own jokes. He offers the note back to his daughter, who puts on a happy face as she retrieves it. Curious eyes drift over the cursive, and she makes a note to take time to read it later. After a motherly kiss to her head and a fatherly squeeze of her shoulder, her parents leave her bedroom. She sits on the bed for a moment longer, then slides her legs off the side.

In her closet, she opens her Keepsakes box. She places her new coin onto the growing stack, and pulls the other two notes from under a shiny red rock. It’s clear that they were all written by the same person, and she feels a slight stab of betrayal in her heart as she sets the two older notes back into the box. With a sigh, she begins to read the newest note.

“Dearest Summer,

Thank you for yet another beautiful tooth! It will look marvelous in my collection, but not as good as your dad. He’s super cute!”

She rolled her eyes as she placed the note into the box with the others. The shining rock held the trio down, and she took a moment to marvel at the items inside. While there may not be any “fairy magic” enhancing her cherished belongings, she did still plan on adding to her small collection. Her fancy rock was new, as was the weird quarter. It was a misprint, her father had said. George Washington was on one side, right where he was supposed to be, but on the other was Thomas Jefferson. Weird enough to find a two-faced coin, but even stranger to find a president who didn’t even belong.

With a sigh, she closed her keepsakes box and twisted the small latch to keep her belongings secure. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, deciding that it doesn’t matter if the tooth fairy was real or some made up thing. Her fingers slide over the surface while she keeps her eyes closed, letting images of the carvings take shape in her mind. Flowers, a unicorn, horseshoes, a clover. A leprechaun sneaks into the mental image as her eyes open, and she stands with a genuine smile.

In no time at all, the calendar has shed more months. Summer’s namesake has rolled around, driving the temperature up and bringing her birthday. She’s seven, standing over her cake and blowing out the candles while family and friends finish their birthday tune. The presents have been opened, plenty of fun already had in the family pool, and now they all watch as six of the seven candles lose their flames.

“Ohh, one boyfriend!” her father says with a smirk. He gives her a playful pat on the back before wrapping her in a hug, and she dutifully blows out the remaining candle.

She pulled the candles out of the cake while her mother slid a knife through the frosted delight. Her mother held her loose dress back, careful not to let it rub into the frosting, and she kissed her daughter on the head when Summer noticed the growing roundness in her belly. It was just two months ago that her parents had taken her aside to explain about the birds and the bees, a conversation which contained neither birds, nor bees. Yuck. But, she was still excited to learn that their family would be growing. A month after that, she was told of their ultrasound, where her parents learned their family would be growing a little more than expected. They eased her in, gingerly explaining she’d be the big sister to a baby boy and girl sometime around Christmas.

Summer made sure everyone had a piece of cake and scoop of strawberry ice cream before digging into her own, and she smiled around the first bite when she noticed her best friend had done the same. Acalicia had just gotten back from a family trip to Bolivia. They were worried she wouldn’t make it back in time, and her parents had offered to have a smaller party for just the two of them. The two girls were delighted when everything worked out.

Acalicia was wearing a two-piece swimsuit, with the same swirling blue and green pattern as Summer’s. The two girls often made sure to match, and liked to pretend that they were sisters. They were midway through the cake while sitting on the same chair when Summer asked a question.

“Do you believe in the tooth fairy?” she asked around some ice cream on her tongue.

The other girl pushed her own spoonful of strawberry goodness into her mouth before answering. After a moment, she nodded with a quick shrug.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the girl answered after swallowing her ice cream.

“Well,” Summer said, her voice lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. She leaned closer to her friend, “I’ve got a test. My parents don’t know, but I lost a tooth today.”

Acalicia nearly lept off the seat, but Summer hushed her. She held a finger to her lips as a silent signal to her friend, and Acalicia struggled to contain herself. When it was clear that her friend wasn’t going to spill the beans, Summer continued.

“A few months ago, it seemed like my parents were tricking me. Making the whole thing up. I just can’t think of why. It’s weird to make up a fairy who takes teeth, right?”

“You think your mom and dad…?” her friend started, glancing at the adults with an inquisitive look. She couldn’t find the words to express her thoughts on the matter, and simply let the incomplete question linger.

“I don’t know. If you get visited by the tooth fairy, and everyone else does too…” Her mind was spinning as she tried to voice it. This concern she’d had, one she refused to bring up to anyone else, it was all so bizarre. “Either everyone’s parents are in on it, or the tooth fairy is a real thing.”

And Santa, and all the other potentially made up characters they’d been led to believe exist. She didn’t want to continue along that thought aloud, but ever since not getting what she desperately desired last time, recognizing her father’s hand writing, and really thinking about it… she worried her hunch might be true. A simple test would be all that was needed to confirm one way or another, and today had presented a perfect opportunity.

“Lemme know what you find,” Acalicia said, bumping her shoulder into Summer’s.

“Yep,” Summer replied, bumping her shoulder back against her friend.

After the party, with her friends going their separate ways with their parents, her mother called her into the living room. The TV was on, and her mother had an excited look on her face. Summer looked at what was on the screen, a smile spreading across her own face when she saw what was ready to play. “TITANIC,” in big, bold letters stretched across the screen, with a massive cruiseliner below. She had asked if she could watch it, and her parents always told her she was too young. Now, it seemed, they considered her old enough to enjoy the movie her mother always claimed to be “her favorite.”

That night, after watching the Titanic and with the image of something specific in her mind, she knew just what to ask for. Her heart desired the dazzlingly beautiful Heart of the Ocean, that magnificent blue diamond carved into a heart and outlined with a string of glittering diamonds. It didn’t really matter if the jewel was on a necklace or not, but she really wanted the storied artifact. She tucked her tooth under her pillow once her parents had left her alone, and imagined finding what she craved in its place the next morning. Excitement coursed through her as she tried to fall asleep, and it was well past bedtime when she finally slipped off.

The ship rocked in the rough seas, but she wasn’t scared. Other passengers stumbled about on their way to their own rooms, and every so often she heard someone scream, but there was no fear in her heart. Only excitement as she ran down the narrow hallway, making well dressed people press against the walls as she hurried by. The floor under her feet lurched up and down, and she took the opportunities to soar through the air with giddy jumps. As she continued to run, she found a growing group following her. They were all running and jumping, laughing as they went.

She was too distracted in all the fun to notice. Sure, she saw the colorful dresses and tuxedos of those following her, but how could she be expected to recognize the intricate designs? There was far too much going on to realize how similar they were in color and pattern to the butterfly wings of a forgotten dream. Even so, the young girl hardly paid enough attention to see just how different the clothing was from everyone else. Or, how peculiar the faces were of the people running and leaping after her.

In any case, Summer woke with a smile. The dream slipped from her mind like water through a net, with individual droplets holding on just long enough for her to appreciate before they fell back into the endless ocean of wonder. Small fragments remained, and she wondered if she really could run and leap as she had on a rocky ship? With the fog of rest lifting from her mind, she remembered the secret tooth and sat up on her bed. She took a deep breath to steel herself, prepared for disappointment, and cautiously lifted her pillow.

A dollar coin rested atop another glittered note. The writing was different than before, but had curves and swirls similar to her mother’s. She was briefly upset to have her suspicions confirmed, but something else nagged at her. Sure, her parents had lied about the tooth fairy and there was no spectacular gemstone waiting for her. But, this just shows how attentive her parents are. How dedicated they are to keeping the magic of her childhood alive. Tears brim in her eyes and make it difficult to read the little note, so she rolls out of bed and stashes it away in her keepsake box.

Hushed whispers cease when she comes down the stairs. Her parents both look like they’re hiding something, but she already knows. Summer rushes over and wraps her arms around her mother, hugging her tight with her ear resting over her baby brother and sister. She feels her mother’s hand on her back, and another settling on her head as they embrace. The feeling of soothing fingers drifting through her hair and scratching her scalp brings a smile to her face, and she doesn’t care about the tooth fairy or any of it anymore. Knowing how much her parents care is all she needs in the world, more than any priceless gem or magical creature.

The hushed, urgent conversation, as unnoticed by Summer as the cloth her father stashes in his pocket, was everything she'd set to disprove. Mr. Tyme adjusted a little as his daughter hugged him, trying to keep the sizable gem from her attention while rubbing a hand down her back. He looked over her head, kissing her soft hair as he made eye contact with his wife.

Certainly, neither of them had gone out and gotten the weighty thing now concealed in his pocket. How had it gotten there? With the economy in a downward tumble, they couldn't even hope to afford what they both thought it was, let alone give it to a child. After work that night, another dismally productive day as an investment broker, he went to a jeweler.

The jeweler was a longtime friend, someone from whom he'd bought many shining, sparkling items up until recently. She was speechless to be presented with the grapefruit sized sapphire, glinting in the overhead light as Mr. Tyme held it with the white cloth wrapping draped over his palm. It was oval in shape, perfectly rounded, and spectacularly polished. There didn't look to be any flaws or markings of any kind as she examined the stone with every tool she had available, and her heart raced as the blue specimen dazzled her eyes. When the jeweler reported her findings, Mr. Tyme was beside himself.

“If it was in my store, or listed online…” she said, handing it back with a wide smile, “...I could see it going for well over $80,000. Easy.”

Mr. Tyme felt his knees go weak, his eyes widening at the woman. He carefully wrapped the cloth back over the gem, mind swarming with thoughts about the stone.

“You're… you're sure?” he asked with a shaky voice.

“Absolutely,” the jeweler replied. “And that's a conservative estimate. Find the right collector, and it would be six digits.”

“I… wow…” It was like all the breath had been knocked out of him. The big chance he'd been needing to rebuild his diminished portfolio, save the house, his job, everything! It was all right here, wrapped clumsily in his hands. But… could he do that? Whatever… magic, if there was such a thing, that had delivered this, it was sent to his daughter. By right, it was technically hers, and he didn't fancy himself a thief.

Times were tough, they had been before. With every likelihood, they would be again. Even with two more on the way, he didn't feel right selling the gem his daughter had mysteriously acquired. Still, they couldn't just let her have such a valuable thing. At work the next day, in the midst of helping some of his remaining high profile clients sell off, he made arrangements to set his daughter up with a safety deposit box at the bank. That was where such an object should be held, and he established other assets in her name in the hopes she would be less upset when she found out about his deception.

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