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coffee-and-wolfsbane · 5 years ago

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ANON ASK: Julian is broke and has to work in brothel to pay the rent. And Asra is his first customer

Short Fanfic: A Friendly Debt, part 1 (if I get an ask to continue this and get more rowdy with it, I absolutely will! This was so fun to do xD ) Characters: Julian Devorak, Asra Alnazar Fandom: The Arcana Word count: 2,201 Warnings: EXPLICIT NSFW, 18+!!!

Julian had to duck when he entered the brothel’s side entrance. The entire place was heavily laced with incense, and pale-red smoke curled up in the air in tantalizing swirls. The faint beating of drums almost drowned out the various sighs and moans that echoed against the lowered ceilings. “You’re not bad looking,” the madam of the brothel stated frankly, grabbing Julian’s chin and twisting his head from side to side. “You’re alright with servicing men and women?” Julian felt a blush heat up his face. “Whatever pays more,” he mumbled. The whole idea that doctors are as rich as counts is a lie. He didn’t want to get evicted from another place, so he had to make fast coin in order to pay his landlord the next morning. “Taking male clients will get some food money for you, don’t worry,” the madam said. “The patch needs to go, however.” Julian shook his head. “I survived the plague. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m still infected,” he explained under his breath. The madam let out a sharp crack of laughter. “Oh, darling. They won’t be looking at your face,” she assured Julian, and shoved him into a cramped private dressing room. “Put on whatever you think will look best. I’d avoid any bright colors, since you’re so pale. Black or red will do. I’ll come fetch you when I have a client for you.” The curtain was snapped shut in Julian’s face and he sat down on a plush cushion. He hated that his hands shook a little when he went to untie the patch that covered his greatest failure. He glanced in the mirror and tried to adjust his hair to cover the red-tinged eye. When he started poking through the sheer clothing that was available, he was relieved that it seemed clean. Julian picked up what was obviously a thong for a man and immediately threw it to the side. “The prettier you’re dressed, the more they pay,” a soft voice said from above him. Julian jerked in surprise and peered around in the dim candle light. A woman in a sheer robe had moved the curtain to the side and picked up the lingerie piece. “Here. This, underneath those silk pants and the black-edged robe will be fine. Is it your first night?” she asked. Julian took the thong back and flushed. “Y-yes, I’m waiting for my first customer.” The woman crossed her arms. “You might be waiting for a bit. The madam likes to sell to the highest bidder. If you need something for the pain afterwards, come find me,” she said with a wave of her hand, and Julian was alone again. Highest bidder, huh? Julian thought, and he quickly stripped and changed into the outfit the other working girl had pointed to. The underwear was made from some weird mesh-like fabric, and it didn’t do much to cover him. He got on the flowy pants and the robe, tapping his fingers against his thigh nervously. Julian wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The smell of the incense kept trying to lure him into a haze, and he was constantly snapping out of a dazed half-sleep. The madam shoved the curtain back and gave Julian a concise once-over. “You look presentable,” she decided. She added a jeweled clip to Julian’s hair so it stayed over his red eye. “Come on, we have someone that’s a regular and wants something new. He’s a more dominant type, so just be good and obey him, and you’ll earn the coin,” the madam instructed, taking Julian’s wrist and leading him through the winding hallways to the main lounge area. There were cushions and large pillows everywhere, and a few hookahs were set up on the low round tables. Julian tried not to look at the customers that were already getting serviced. “Don’t be so shy,” the madam hissed. “The others will sense it and you’ll be out of a job faster than one of the clients can get you undressed.” “S-s-sorry,” Julian mumbled. Deep breaths. This’ll be over soon. One night, and then you’ll never have to come here again. The madam led Julian to the back of the rooms, and there were only two people back there talking idly. The first had two girls in their lap, but the second was a good distance away, watching with an bored expression. He was smoking something that smelled like dark spices and fruit on a cigarette holder, and Julian froze when he saw the brightly-colored sash. Julian’s heart started to pound as he slowly looked up from the second person’s hands to the blue stone pendant, and then over the golden collar. His worst fears were confirmed, though, when he saw the pale lilac irises and the snow-white halo of curls. No. No, no, no, this is some sick joke. This can’t be happening, Julian thought as his stomach twisted into knots and dread filled his chest. Julian met Asra’s eyes and he knew the panic was clear on his face, because Asra actually did a double-take and then those lavender eyes locked onto Julian with a predatory intent. “Master Magician, here’s the newest addition to our business,” the madam simpered, and Julian seriously thought about bolting. “He doesn’t have much of a rind on him, though, so feel free to discipline him if he displeases you.” Asra, say you know me! Turn me away! What are you even doing here?! She said you were a regular! Julian’s thoughts became more panicked when Asra slowly set down the cigarette holder on the table and he smiled. “He’s perfect, Heather,” Asra purred, and Julian’s face lit up in a blush that was the same shade as his hair. “Go on, now. Your customer is waiting,” the madam said, and practically shoved Julian forward. He tripped on the hem of the billowy pants and landed face-first into Asra’s lap. Julian’s cheeks were burning as he felt Asra’s hand grip his hair, and suddenly he was looking up at his best friend. “Isn’t this a surprise,” Asra drawled, and Julian’s eyes widened as he tried to think of some explanation. “W-w-why are you here?” was what Julian’s panic-brain blurted out. Asra chuckled softly, and the sound made Julian’s skin break out in small bumps.”The same reason why everyone else is here, Ilya,” Asra laughed, and to back up his point, the moans and sighs around them suddenly seemed amplified. Julian tried to put his hands out to stead himself, but the only thing he could grab onto was Asra’s thighs. He had landed on his knees--don’t think about it, don’t think about it!--between Asra’s legs, and he couldn’t back away due to Asra’s firm grip on his auburn hair. “N-no, I meant why don’t you get someone different? Someone you don’t know?” Julian mumbled, his real name on Asra’s lips making his mouth dry. “Why would I choose one of these used-up girls when I have you, the famous Doctor Devorak, in front of me?” Asra taunted, arching a pale brow. “Is this a kink of yours, Ilya? Or are you hurting for money?” Julian’s eyes skittered away and he swallowed convulsively. “F-for the money,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Asra’s eyebrows went up into his curly hair, and the grin that spread across his friend’s face had Julian shaking slightly. “Money? You’re a doctor. How can you be broke?” Asra snorted. Julian tried to lean away again, but Asra tightened his hold, cranking Julian’s head back and exposing the pale column of Julian’s throat. “Don’t be coy, Ilya. I might act nice and endearing on the outside, but in here, I’m very different,” Asra purred. “Look at me and tell me how much money you need. Now.” Julian had to dampen his lower lip a few times before his voice decided it was able to work. His hands held onto Asra’s thighs and he met his friend’s lilac eyes. “O-one thousand coins,” he whispered. “For rent. I’m two months behind. My landlord is threatening to evict me if I don’t get the money to him by tomorrow.” Asra let out a soft whistle at the number. “That’s a hefty debt, Ilya. You’ll need to work hard to get that amount of money in one night.” Julian felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. “I-I know. But between helping Mazelinka and Pasha, I barely had anything left, and what I did have I spent at The Raven.” Asra made a sympathetic noise and ran his fingers through Julian’s hair, pulling the jeweled clip out and tossing it on the table. “Poor Ilya. The useless plague doctor that doesn’t have any plagues to cure. I could help you. We are friends, right?” Asra asked, but the gleam in his eyes said his ‘help’ wouldn’t come free. Julian looked up at Asra hopefully, not catching the calculating look behind Asra’s eyes. “Y-you could? Asra, I don’t know what to say.” See? You had nothing to panic over, Julian thought with a brief flash of relief. “You won’t need to say anything, Ilya,” Asra murmured, and he grabbed Julian’s chin tightly. “I’ll loan you the money you need, but you’ll be in debt to me instead. Doesn’t that sound nicer?” he said sweetly. Some sort of alarm went off in Julian’s head, but he nodded slowly, uncertainty on his face. “I promise I’ll pay you back,” he mumbled, chewing on his lower lip. “You’ll pay me back, but I’m not interested in the coin. I want your body. How about a little game?” Asra suggested, and he leaned back against the cushions. Julian’s eyes widened when he saw a hard ridge straining against the soft fabric of Asra’s pants. “Game?” Julian repeated dumbly, and he unconsciously licked his lips. “Mmmhm. You can stop worrying about the money. After I’m done here, I’ll go to your landlord and pay your debt. But you’ll have to start making up for it now. If you use your mouth on me well enough, I won’t claim your ass,” Asra said, his thumb dragging across Julian’s lips. Use my mouth? Does he mean give him oral? Julian thought, and the incense must have been getting into his head again, because his body was humming with a slow burn. When Julian didn’t answer because he was too busy trying to get the images of other things out of his head, Asra caught Julian by the nape of his neck and dragged him forward, pressing Julian’s cheek against his hip. “What did I say about answering me, Ilya?” Asra gently chided him, but his pale purple irises flashed dangerously. Julian’s breath caught in his throat and his entire body went still. “I’m sorry, Asra,” he whispered automatically, looking up at his friend the best he could, since he was trapped against Asra’s hips. It could always be worse, Julian thought with a gulp. And if it’s only oral....it’s not like I’ve never thought about him like that. He knows he’s handsome and sexy. “I’ll do it,” Julian mumbled, and he was relieved when the pressure on his temple let up. Asra reached over them and took up the long cigarette holder again. “Before you get started, though, I want to see what you wore to entice a paying client,” Asra said, taking a long drag from the smoldering cigarette. “I didn’t know you smoked,” Julian said under his breath, and he leaned back slightly to shrug off the robe he had on. “I know, it’s bad for you and all that, but the smoke is incredibly sweeter when I’m mid-orgasm,” Asra drawled, and Julian flushed deeply. Asra held up a hand and waved Julian back. “Stand up to take off those bottoms, pet.” Julian cringed a little, but he obediently stood up, his thumbs hesitating on the waistband of the pants. The other customer that Asra had been chatting with wasn’t really paying attention, since they were preoccupied by the two girls they had hired. But the fact that Julian could be watched was making him shift nervously and start to breathe faster. Asra snapped his fingers and Julian shook his head slightly, his anxiety-ridden thoughts disappearing. “Focus on me, Ilya. Get those pants off,” Asra hummed, his voice hypnotically low and sultry. Julian had to force his eyes shut to muster the courage to whisk the soft material down his legs. He kicked them off to the side and his hands curled into fists as he fought the urge to cover himself. “Ohhhh, Ilya,” Asra groaned softly, and Julian knew his face was on fire as blood rushed to his cheeks and also to somewhere farther south. “That doesn’t hide anything. You were serious about earning that money.” Julian’s ears burned along with his face and he hesitantly cracked an eye open. Asra’s light purple gaze was focused on his groin, and Julian chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Asra inhaled another lung full of smoke and he crooked a finger at Julian. “Come on, Ilya. Time to pay up,” Asra breathed, and there was wicked anticipation on his best friend’s face. “Let’s put that smart mouth to good use.”

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years ago

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Three Days ~ 71

~*~Emma~*~

For the rest of the trip, we relaxed listening to music. Before Sebastian had asked, I’d not thought too much about what I was going to do. Further limiting my time was a given, but I hadn’t thought about what that would look like. Talking about not waking up at “home” with my mom, dad, twin sister, and niece should have bothered me more than it did. That it didn’t, tells me it’s the right decision. One of the side effects of putting up with shit too long is once you decide to stop it’s not that big of a deal. Something inside has been moving in that direction for some time. What Sebastian had said about not sacrificing myself was on target. That I would do what it takes to take care of my sister isn’t in question. It’s been proven.

I texted Angie from the Uber to Sebastian's apartment. We were going to start up at Chelsea and Union Square with Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People. Those were sure thing stores, but not always original. We'd weave our way through Chelsea and into Soho. That shop Seb and I found would be last. We'd stop for lunch when we got hungry.

Angie hopped on the subway and headed to Union Square. It would take her thirty minutes and me fifteen from Sebastian’s place. Plenty of time to relax and watch Sebastian gather what he needed to work on. I saw a script, notebook, and a couple of real books. I think I'd find it fascinating to watch his process, but more importantly this time I wanted him to know I had friends and could amuse myself. I didn't care that he needed work time and I wasn’t going to need something from him for ignoring me. Doing things independent of your partner was important.

I grabbed a bottle of water for my journey and made my way to where Sebastian sat. He moved the items in his lap, making room for me to sit down. He supported my back and rubbed along my leg. "What are you shopping for?"

"Whatever I find." I smiled sneakily, "Especially if find something for Paris, our first date, and our live music fun tonight."

Sebastian’s hand made it to my ass, "When I think of live music I picture short, revealing, sexy."

"I love how you think." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Can I bother you for five minutes?"

"Sure" His eyes held questions.

I pulled his head closer, pressing my lips to his until he caught on and joined in the fun.

Our little mini make out session was going to make me late. Assuming Angie left as soon as we texted, walked straight onto a train, and there were no delays. None of these were likely. She'd forgive my lateness anyway. I looped my crossbody bag over my head, "I'll text if it's anything other than seven."

"Ok." He ran toward the kitchen. "Hang on." I heard a drawer slam before he reversed direction and came back. Sebastian held up a key, the slightest smile appearing on his face, "In case I'm in the shower or something when you come back. You remember the code?"

"Yes." I'd punched it in when we got here less than half an hour ago. He was nervous. I admit I had to focus to keep my hand steady as I took his offering. "I love you."

Sebastian opened the door and gave me a quick kiss as I walked out. "Love you, too."

I was a couple of steps away when I heard my name.

"Emma, put it on your key ring so you don't lose it."

The door closed before I could reply. I guess that eliminates any question if the key was a temporary just in case he was in the shower today sort of thing. What made me smile the most was the lack of conversation. If he'd overthought the decision, he didn't feel the need to talk it through. No discussion about what it meant or didn't mean. He may have been nervous, but he wasn't uncomfortable. I seriously doubt he's in the habit of giving out keys to his place, so nervous but not uncomfortable was good.

Angie was leaning against the building when I walked up. We hugged like we hadn't seen each other in months. "Sorry, I’m late."

"Were you having sex? I'll forgive you if you were having sex."

I grimaced with a shake of my head, "Making out."

My best friend huffed out a breath, "Close enough." She held the door open for me, "I got here like two minutes ago."

Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People were right in a line. We'd hit them in my favorite order. Aritizia was more comfort clothes for me. Their clothes were more staples than fun. But today I found a gorgeous Sicily sweater and cardigan in a soft heathered cashmere. A pair of tie front pants in purple plaid would look awesome for wandering museums. Anthropologie gifted me with a sequined tunic dress for a night out. A simple black midi dress, a grey-blue fringed and a textured cardi, and a long black wrap jacket. Free People had a colorful mini dress, a definite statement Hyacinth dress, and a fun floral dress. Assorted other things went into my bags too. I went a little crazy, but in my defense, I hadn’t been shopping in a long time and my best friend was egging me on. Plus, there was someone to appreciate what I wore. I had all sorts of cute clothes, but dressing for a boyfriend was different. Especially one who liked to look. I knew what he liked and indulged.

Conversation while we shopped was mostly about the shopping. It's good to have a friend who'll not only tell you something makes your ass look fat but also say, "You look amazing but where the fuck are you gonna wear that more than once?" Part of the fun was trying on horrifying things. Those things you don't understand how they were ever made. We'd mix those in with good stuff and laugh until we cried. We had a long-standing tradition that whoever found the most "exquisite" outfit was treated to lunch. We were pretty even and had pictures for documentation. Today I would be buying lunch.

"We’ve got a table at two. Alissa's going to meet us."

"That'll be fun. Are she and Will coming tonight?"

"I don't think so. They've got a family thing."

I nodded and we headed toward Chelsea, stopping at the Guitar Store for strings and a capo. We had plenty of time so we stopped anywhere else that caught our eyes. Walking was more private and so was our conversation.

"Anything I should know about before I see you tonight with your boyfriend?"

I sighed in relief. Finally. I bumped her hip with mine, "I love him."

Angie put her arm around me, "This is not news, Emma."

We shared a laugh. "I wasn't sure until I was in the cab leaving his place. Georgia solidified it. Sebastian was so good talking me through all their shit. He and Eli have more in common now. They both hate my parents."

"Eli doesn't hate your parents."

I pulled away, looking at her with raised eyebrows and clear disbelief written on my face. "Try again."

Angie spoke through our laughter, "Eli tries not to, but they make it truly hard. I think he'd be more forgiving if you didn't have us and your Seattle family. Eli loves you like a little sister, best friend, and some weird second wife he's never fucked. He’s protective. He and Sebastian are going to have to figure out how to share."

"They'll arm wrestle or something. Then maybe you'll become Sebastian’s little sister, friend, and second girlfriend. Ooo, we could use you to confuse the fans. If we're out and get seen we can trade off and kiss each other’s dates. Set up a different narrative."

"Good idea.

“It'll be more fun for you. I have kissed Eli, but you don't know about Seb."

"I doubt anything will become so severe that making out with Sebastian is the answer." She smiled, "Not that I would mind."

"You would not mind. He's one hell of a good kisser."

She backtracked, "Who said it first? How did it happen."

"He surprised me showing up early from Canada, watched me cleaning up my classroom for a minute, then told me the song I was dancing along to was about sex. I turned around and he had on those ears. He looked so adorable. He looked at me with his mouth and eyes open wide and said, “Fuck, I love you."

Angie slapped her hand on her chest, "He didn't know until right them." She gasped, "He came in wearing those ears to be cute and winds up telling you he loves you. He is adorable.” She glared at me, "And you said it back."

I nodded, “In Romania."

"What's up with learning Romanian?"

I trusted her with everything. "It's his name. He prefers it in Romanian. I've been learning just enough to add it to his name. It has a very nice effect on him.” I remembered the wall and shook myself out of the memory. “Plus it makes him happy.”

"And you’re happy?"

I nodded, "Incredibly. All the reasons we talked about are still going on. He adores me and it's clear by how he treats me. And I love taking care of him." I knew she’d understand what I meant.

"There is nothing better in the world. I'm so happy you have someone. It had been so long I thought you were intentionally keeping everyone away."

“Just waiting for the right one." I pulled out my key chain. "I do have a new key."

Angie snatched it, "He keyed you!"

"Looks like it."

"Do you worry this is going fast? I mean it is going fast."

"Yes. It is going fast. There is a risk that maybe this time next year we could be married, have three kids, and signing our divorce papers." I barely made it through without laughing.

Angie snorted, "Sign a prenup so you don’t have to pay alimony when his mid-life crisis tanks his career."

"I talked to Trevor about Sebastian. He knows about my parents, Amy, rehab, and how shitty they can be to me, but he doesn't how about what happened." I stopped walking and looked at her. "I'm starting to feel ashamed for not telling him. That's never happened before." Relationship or friendship. It had never happened. I looked at the most recent member of my secret club. "I don't want to."

She understood, "Why?"

"I don't want him to change the way he looks at me."

Angie smiled, "He won't. You don’t know that yet. It's only been a month. When you know, you'll tell him, and he will look at you just the same or better than he does now. It'll be fine."

"How do you know?" It wasn’t a smart assed clap back. I sincerely wanted to know her reasoning.

"Because he feels different to you and about you. You’re both sharing things neither of you share. That’s the glue for your relationship. You’re adding a little more glue, letting it set up, then adding more. It's getting stronger and eventually, you'll both tell the big secrets and it will be like a layer of epoxy around you that will make you near impossible to break.”

"I like that."

"I speak the truth."

We beat Alissa to the restaurant and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. I was still rearranging and shoving bags into bags under the table when she got there. Angie jumped up and they hugged. I took a step closer, but instead of hugging me, Alissa looked at me warily. “Is it ok for me to be here? Angie said it would be.”

I looked at Angie then back to Alissa, “Why wouldn’t it be?” Oh, what the fuck was going on? I just wanted a nice drunken late lunch with friends after a successful shopping expedition then go home and make out some more with my hot boyfriend.

Alissa grimaced, “I’m sorry for saying all that about Sebastian.”

“Oh!” I laughed and put my hand on my chest. Relieved. I pulled her into a hug, “I’m not upset. Between you and Kirk and the shit Eli told him, we had a somewhat uncomfortable, but really good conversation.”

“Good.” We sat down and Alissa kept talking. “I didn’t mean to be negative. It was just strange. How he was acting and the things you were saying. In a good way. It didn’t come out that way.”

Why is she still . . . oh. “Sebastian said something.”

She cringed, “More of a small group WhatsApp with me and Kirk.”

I laughed again. “Sounds fun.” I sort of wish he hadn’t done that, but I understand why he did. In the end, it was a good thing, but they couldn’t know if I would be scared off by their words.

Angie jumped in, “There’s no way Emma didn’t talk that through.”

Alissa didn’t know me well enough yet to know I wouldn’t let the conversation fester. “Especially with us being a thousand miles apart for the next two weeks. Why is that distance makes time seem longer?”

“I don’t know, but it does. Seb was right to be angry. We could have screwed things up. Neither of us realized how important you were to him. He was worried. That’s more like Seb. Kinda. He’s confusing.”

I think I know what she’s going for. It’s very like him to be worried, but not so much calling out a friend about a girlfriend. From what we’ve talked about and what I learned on that post he’s not had a history of defending girlfriends. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I wasn’t willing to go into that here. I changed the subject. “And then he goes and tells Will to post a picture of us.”

Alissa nodded, “How’d he react to the comment saying he was going to propose?”

Angie started laughing, “She’d say no.”

“I told him not to. He’d need a good reason. Like he’s actually not a citizen and needs a marriage green card. Or maybe health insurance. I have good health insurance.”

That was the end of that and we went on to other topics. Alissa and Will were having dinner with family but would come by Bowery Ballroom if they were done early. Keaton and Eli’s bands were friends and often teamed up to fill a bigger hall and split the money. They usually made more that way than in one of the smaller halls. Both did a full set and even though Keaton was the bigger name they would trade off who opened. Tonight was Eli’s turn.

We split up outside the restaurant. Alissa going back home and Angie and I heading to the boutique by Sebastian’s. It wasn’t a horrible walk, but we had a lot of bags. In the cab, Angie gave me a look. One I could read perfectly. She wanted to know what I’d avoided at lunch. I like Alissa and I’d say we’re friends. She’s also married to one of Sebastian’s best friends. I didn’t know what the line was. Not for Sebastian. He’d tell me to do what I wanted. The line was mine. Will and Alissa were still enough strangers to me that I wasn’t comfortable with too much information flow between all of us. I wouldn’t think anything of it with Angie and Eli and I was confident that given some more time it would be the same with Will and Alissa. Also, I didn’t know how intimate of conversations Sebastian had with his friends. I’d need to be around more to know.

I’d told Angie about our conversation after the party. In general. With what Alissa had said I went into a little more detail, filled in holes, and answered questions. I watched her thinking. I knew what was coming and was glad for it. “Are you worried? I’d be worried. Maybe not worried. Concerned. It’s like being a rebound. You’re the first after something else, only the something else is personal growth. You don’t know if he’s going to go back. You know what I mean?”

I did. “If he wasn’t so forthcoming with talking about it, I would be concerned. He’s laid it all out there. What he’s done, not done, feels bad about. He doesn’t act like that with me. If he starts too, I’ll know what's going on.” I told her about the conversation on the deck where he did want to shut down and how we got through it. “Struggling with change doesn’t bother me. All the girlfriend stuff.” I shook my head and shrugged. “We’re going to have to figure out what both of us are good with. I think I’m going to be able to not get sucked into comments or let them get to me, but I don’t know for sure. I know private is ok, but I’m not ok with being denied. I’d feel like a dirty little secret. I could change my mind. Could be next week. No idea.”

Angie took my hand, “I still get hate from Eli’s fans. We had to figure out how to deal. You guys will too. The rest, I think you’re right. If he’d gotten pissy and refused to talk about what Alissa and Kirk had said it would be a problem. Everybody gets a chance to do things differently. I don’t for one second think you’re going in blind or overlooking things because you want a boyfriend. You’d walk away if he wasn’t treating you right.” She got the look she gets when she’s about to tell me something I don’t like. I know that look, because I have the same one. “I’m one hundred percent not saying now. Way too soon. You’re already started to feel ashamed and that’s not going to get better. Might not get worse, but it’s not going to get better. You are the bravest person I know. Don’t let being afraid of your past ruin your future.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 5 years ago

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Meeting and dating Veronica Sawyer

(Not my gif)(requested by anonymous)

- You meet Veronica in the lunch room as she’s walking around with Heather. You’re sat at a table with your friends when the two girls come up to your table and ask you the daily poll.

- When she sees you for the first time she just can’t seem to take her eyes off of you. At first she thinks perhaps it’s because she hasn’t seen you around school before or just out of admiration for your style/features. But then you complimented her outfit and she internally lost her shit for a good minute, it was then she realized that this was not in fact a normal reaction and something was going on with her.

- Soon enough she realizes what exactly is going on and it ...slightly troubles her. Where she’s from being gay isn’t exactly normal nor really accepted.

- As much as she doesn’t particularly like/trust the Heathers she also has no one else to talk to, so with reluctance she tells them about her feelings for you. Heather C basically just says “Well you didn’t pick the worst chick to want to date. She’s not a total mutant like some of these people…could use some more blush though.”

- It’s easy to forget that the Heathers and Veronica were actually friends no matter how catty they could be with one another. They still sort of want the best for each other so when Veronica confides in them they attempt to give her any advice they can. They do do her a favor (without her knowing) and invite you to ‘Become a Heather’ which you slightly agree to meaning you and Veronica get close.

- She doesn’t really know what to do about her feelings, she wants to act on them but that doesn’t feel like an option considering where she’s from. She writes a lot of diary entries about you and her feelings just to get everything out.

- You both do that whole ‘you stare at the person and when the person looks at you, you look away then that person stares at you until you look at them’ thing.

- Her heart races every time you compliment her and vice versa (but she doesn’t know that just yet).

- She begins to write you secret admirer notes. You have no idea it’s her because she disguises her handwriting every time she writes them. It kind of makes her smile when she gets to hear all about how cute you find the little letters and seeing all the Heathers giggle along as you read them.

- You only find out its her when you catch her slipping one into your locker but at the time you assume it’s just an invitation to a party or some notes you might have missed from class. It’s only when schools over that you get to read what she dropped in and it’s another lovey dovey note.

- You call her after school to hangout and when she comes to your house you act as though everything’s normal until you hand her the note. She tenses up and freezes in her place as you wait for a response. As quickly as she can she tries to apologize and explain herself before you stop her, telling her it’s alright.

“It is?”

“It is.”

“...You’re not mad?”

“No, in fact I’m quite happy.”

“...really?”

“Yes really, I’m just waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to ask me out.” She looks at you completely shocked before a smile spreads across her face and she asks you out.

- The two of you go to a bookstore where you both split apart and find a book you think the other will enjoy. After you meet up again you go back to her place and read together while listening to some soft music.

- Your first kiss is that day as your date ends. She stops you as you’re about to open the door to her room and puts a hand on your cheek, leaning in and kissing you. The two of you break apart smiling and you leave her house happy and excited with your new relationship.

- A lot of kissing and cuddling.

- She’s open to sex pretty early on so it depends if you want to or not, she doesn’t want you to feel pressured to do it.

- She’s a self admitted mini genius so she’s happy to help you study and plan your calendar.

- She definitely forges notes/passes so that she can get you out of class with her. You just have to hint at needing a signature or something and she’ll do it for you.

- Horror movies are her ally. She loves having you grab her hand whenever you get a good scare.

- She’s probably a little insecure after having been friends with Heather Chandler for so long and being the talk of the school for better and for worse.

- She tells you you’re beautiful all the time and gives you this adorable little smile when you tell her the same.

- She sort of prefers to stay out of the spotlight especially when you’re together just in case people start to get suspicious. She’ll grab a lunch table in the far corner of the cafeteria or the two of you will eat somewhere else together.

- The Heathers usually butt their way into your lunch dates or dates in general. They’ll just show up and sit with you all while starting a conversation about something that’s just happened to them.

- The Heathers choose to ignore your relationship, it’s not that they don’t like it just that they think it’s best to be willfully ignorant. They’re still getting used to the fact that they know not one but two gay/bi/etc girls.

- She’s a raging pessimist most of the time but you brighten up her outlook on life.

- You guys play croquet a lot. She’s happy to teach you if you dont know how to play.

- Her room is really cosy so you guys hangout in there a lot. It’s also a bonus that her parents are completely clueless as to what you two actually are. They just think you’re really good friends like her and the Heathers.

- She writes you little poems every now and again.

- Makes up overdramatic plays to entertain you starring a very overdone preformance by her.

- She wants to protect you all the time, she knows just how mean people can be.

- She usually has an arm around your shoulder or looped with your own during the school day. It’s a normal thing for ‘ friends’ especially the Heathers to be affectionate with each other so no one questions it.

- Pâté with her parents.

- You have dinner at her house at least once a week, afterwards you, her and her parents sit and watch tv together.

- She definitely has some deep rooted issues that she doesn’t talk about (in the movie you’ll see that now and again she tries to hurt herself). You try to help her anyway you can but ultimately wait until she’s ready to come to you about what wrong with her.

- Being there when she needs someone to rant to especially about Heather C.

- She can always tell when something’s wrong and makes sure to be there for you when you need it.

- Having to bite your tongue whenever someone flirts with one of you or the both of you at the same time.

- She strokes your hair absentmindedly whenever you’re sitting and watching tv together.

- Fights are usually screaming matches but they’re resolved pretty easily and quickly so it’s never really that bad.

- Doing stupid shit together.

“What if we like coughed up a phlegm glob or something?”

- Photobooth pictures of the two of you

- She loves your praise especially when it’s about something other than her looks. She’s used to people thinking she’s pretty so it’s a nice change when you compliment something about her that she’s actually proud of.

“Tell me how good this is”

“It’s great”

- Cue a cute little smile.

- Knowing each other’s locker combos and borrowing each other’s stuff.

- You probably join the yearbook committee with her and the two of you help each other with your work.

- Morbid jokes.

- Getting your designated color for when you’re with the Heathers. They subtly make sure it looks good with Veronicas blue, that’s how you know they support the two of you together.

- Taking care of her whenever she gets drunk/sick at parties. You’ve had to hold her hair as she pukes more than a few times.

- Quick comebacks that never fail to make you laugh.

- Taking naps together after school.

- Gossiping and making fun of people together for shits and giggles.

- Convincing her to hang out with Betty Finn more, she’s an absolute sweetheart to the two of you.

- Helping her accessorize since she apparently can’t do it for shit.

- She’ll say “love you” over the phone but she has a little trouble saying it in person. It makes her a little embarrassed and she ends up getting tongue tied before she can get it out.

- You offhandedly talk about the future, like she’ll make a comment like ‘we should do this next year’ or ‘god I could marry you’ or ‘next year I’m going to take you to do this’ and the ever so common ‘after highschool I’m blowing this town and taking you with me’.

#veronica sawyer #veronica sawyer imagine #veronica sawyer headcanons #veronica sawyer headcanon #veronica sawyer x reader #80s imagine #80s imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #80s movie imagines #heathers headcanons #heathers imagine #heathers headcanon

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liquidstar · 5 years ago

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Hey anon! I’m posting this as a textpost because Tumblr formatted the ask weird when I tried to insert a readmore, so I’m just going to copypaste what I said there :p

DON’T be sorry for all the questions I love answering oc questions!!! But for the sake of not rambling too long and also making each answer easier to find, I’m going to answer them one by one instead of in a big essay lol… But it’s still kind of long so I’m going to cut it!

Can you tell me about Buttercup and Heather?

Buttercup grew up as a little rich girl who pretty much was always affirmed that she is special and one of a kind and completely unique and she’s meant for greatness, so she’s kind of spoiled and has an inflated ego, but she never really acts out of malice (unlike Heather) she just sees herself as the protagonist of the world (ironic, she’s a side character in class 3). But she doesn’t necessarily think that everything comes easily either, Buttercup is a smart girl and has worked very hard to get where she is today, and she does have very high standards for herself that she always works to meet. She just needs to step out of her own spotlight a bit. Also, fittingly, buttercup flowers symbolize ritches.

When Heather was a kid, her mother was a big and famous hotshot wizard, she idolized her mom more than anything in the world, she wanted to be a wizard like her, but things turned sour after a very bad marriage that left her mother unable to continue her career, and Heather felt betrayed by her mother when the illusion of a perfect hero was shattered because her mom didn’t protect her, but Heather doesn’t really understand her own feelings, she just sees her mother as a coward, and she claims she hates her but part of that is also just projection. Heather watched her mother lose control of her situation, and Heather as a child had NO control, so Heather became a bitter control-freak who condescends to people and pushes them around and is generally kind of just… Mean. The heather flowers symbolize admiration and good luck, but beyond that it should be obvious what else her name is a reference to (I mean she’s got the shoulder pads).

What’s their friendship like?

Honestly? It’s pretty shallow at first, they mostly just become friends because they both see each other as someone that’s worthy of hanging out with them, due to their mutually high standards, and a lot of their actual dynamic is kind of built on either building up their own image (Buttercup) or tearing others down (Heather). But at the same time they’re also both the closest thing to actual friends that the other has and there IS grounds for a genuine friendship to be formed if they would both kind of just loosen up and actually drop their acts.

When they hang out with Delphi what’s that like?

Delphi isn’t particularly close to either of them, but she does think they’re fun to hang out with specifically because she’s completely off her shit and absolutely lives for any semblance of drama, and both of them can honestly vibe with that but Delphi can also be… A lot. She can be kind of violent and vicious without a second thought, not in the high-school-mean-girl way that the other two are, like actually scary… She’s a lot. She’s better in small doses, so they don’t hang out with her too much, and they partly just want her around because it gives their little girlgroup a bit more of a fear factor, and Delphi knows this and honestly doesn’t care, she just wants to fuck shit up.

What do other people in their class them of them?

Class 3 came around to see Buttercup’s huge ego schtick as kind of charming after a while, like “oh haha that’s just Buttercup she’s at it again” but classes 2 and 1 aren’t used to dealing with her like they are. She’s generally pretty well liked on her own but if she’s with Heather it’s a different story

Heather is kind of just seen as a domineering bully, but class 3 doesn’t actually take her as seriously as she would like them to, aside from Lisia and Lotus who are kind of just pushovers. In Lisia’s case, Heather kind of fakes friends with her for her own benifit, and in Lotus’ case she’s actually outright cruel.

Delphi is the only one actually taken seriously because they all know that she wouldn’t hesitate on literally anything, so it’s generally better to just kind of stay out of her way and let her do her, because she herself won’t actually bother people without prompting… So their feelings on here are kind of neutral because they don’t know her, but still a bit anxious around her.

What’s their dynamics with their partners?

Heather’s partner is Celosia, an heir, who is 100% someone who lives up to the high standards that Heather has set so she has her respect, but Celosia isn’t someone who would be impressed by her being a bossy attitude, but she also isn’t someone who cares too much about the affairs of other so she doesn’t hold any particular moral grudges, so she just lets her keep acting Like That. They’re both people that are capable of working together because of their own determination, but they aren’t really friends. Heather has a few things to learn about ACTUAL leadership from Celosia, and Celosia kind of has to learn when to intervene and not be fully conflict avoidant.

Buttercup’s partner is Nep, who’s entire schtick is being a copycat (She has copy magic lol) so you can see how that’s kind of annoying for Buttercup to deal with, because her whole thing is that she’s a one of a kind, a diamond in the rough, the brightest star in the sky, but then Nep wants to mimic her simply by proxy of being around her… Clearly this causes a lot of contention between the two but ultimately they both need to learn the opposite lessons that the other should be able to teach them. You’re your own person but you’re not above anyone else. (mp100 voice: if everyone is not special maybe you can be what you want to be)

Delphi’s partner is Lisia who as mentioned before is kind of a pushover, so she’s intimidated by Delphi, but Delphi has no interest in taking advantage of her in any way… She just kind of lets her be, and if anything she wants to help her with her magic simply because Lisia can’t control it well even though it’s super powerful and Delphi TOTALLY wants to fight side by side with a potential powerhouse like that. Meanwhile Lisia has some lessons about like, compassion to impart, it’s like Delphi is Lisia’s physical instructor but Lisia is Delphi’s life coach, it’s actually a pretty mutually beneficial relationship.

How do their different types of magic work well/clash with each other?

Heather’s perfume magic is basically fragrance-based potion magic, with more or less the same applications with the added benefit of just needing people to smell it to take effect (Note: She’s immune to all of it, could be a good or bad thing depending on the perfume). And Celosia has straight-up fire magic, pretty self explanatory. Their magic types don’t particularly have a lot of overlap but certain perfumes work well with fire or could be used like gas to set on fire.

Buttercup has summoning magic, it’s a type of magic that allows her to make tangible projections of types of monsters she’s defeated, but of course they follow her commands (You know, like Pokemon) and Nep has copy magic, it basically lets her make copies of any non-living object she touches, which can include Buttercup’s projections! However there’s a limit to the amount of Projections Buttercup can control, and a limit to the amount of the amount of time any given copy will exist before disappearing (They’re not actually real, like Buttercup’s monsters they’re just projections too and will only stay around for a while, so sadly she can’t make counterfeit bills)

Delphi has water transformation magic, her body is made of water and of course this also comes with the added ability of hydrokinesis as a whole. Lisia has transformation magic, she has different sorts of forms she can transform into that come with different powers and abilities, but it all depends on her mood. When she transforms she gets a different outfit and her little horns become different shapes each time, the transformation that works the best with Delphi’s magic is the one that’s (sadly) based on the emotion of sadness, because it’s the one that also has hydrokinesis powers, but if they’d want to be a tagteam, the one based on anger has fire powers. Lisia is kind of insecure about her magic because she’s only ever really able to use it when she’s feeling that emotion very strongly, she hasn’t learned to just tap into it naturally yet, but don’t worry she’ll get there.

#finn's ocs #hope it works this time i dont like spamming ppls dashes w a lot of text im so sorry guys #sorry anon!

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taebadam · 5 years ago

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hello! i have had the privilege to see jagged little pill twice now and first of all: words cannot truly explain how amazing this show was. just. wow. but i remember when i was first getting into the show i searched desperately for descriptions of staging, choreography, etc. so here’s a (probably way too detailed lmao i’m sorry) synopsis of the show. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. seriously. im about to tell you literally everything i remember so retreat now if that’s not what you want. ok here we go. oh boy. (also i’ll be using actor’s names for ensemble members who don’t have character names and then character names otherwise)

CONTENT WARNINGS: sexual assault, homophobia, racism, sexism, addiction and overdose

here’s act 1:

ok i loved the whole thing for sure but honest to god one of my fav bits is the first minute of the show. the STAGING. so as the lights come up and the overture starts we see a mostly still dark stage with all the ensemble members facing backward w a spotlight on yana (my love wow) in the center. she’s the first to turn around as she delivers the opening line: “swallow it down.” the rest of the ensemble begins to join in and turn around one by one starting w ezra (!!!! i love ez so much they are the best you cannot convince me otherwise) and the build begins. they move in closer to yana, chanting “around and around” and then all come in with “WAKE UPPPP” and they all bend down in this beautiful moment where the bass just. drops. and then in comes the band holy SHIT. so the band is on these really cool moving platforms that come in from the wings and as the bass drops and the ensemble starts jamming out they come on stage and it’s just truly incredible. they sing some of the overture like this w stunning choreography and then as you oughta know’s theme comes in jo runs in and joins the ensemble but it’s really slick you don’t really notice at first until the second part of the chorus when she breaks away and comes center stage, singing on top of the ensemble as they start to break apart behind her and pull out these stunning moving panels that are like 15 feet tall w projections on them. jo runs back through the panels right before they meet in the middle and close behind her revealing the words “jagged little pill” as the overture comes to a close.

the panels now open up and reveal a couch with all four healys sitting on it w santa hats and reindeer antlers galore, posing for a christmas card photo and yelling “merry christmas from the healys!” we have mj, the mom, steve, the dad, nick the perfect son and frankie the adopted, black daughter. mj then goes on with her monologue about how great their lives are while they all sit there with frighteningly fake smiles pasted on their faces while the ensemble plays carolers behind them. soon the stage morphs to show us steve’s office on one side of the healy living room and frankie’s room on the other as mj begins to write in the card about her perfect little family. she discusses steve’s new position as partner (while he chugs a bottle of pepto-bismol), nick’s acceptance to harvard (they recreate the moment he opens the email) and then finally frankie and her best friend jo. as mj talks about frankie and jo she mentions how they’re upstairs right now doing a “little craft project” and off to the side you see them working on a sign that says “FUCK FASCISM” which jo holds up w pride. then (lmao) mj talks about frankie’s friendship w jo and how she loves “female friendships” and how she remembers “the days of discussing clothes and boys” and meanwhile to her left frankie and jo are literally just full on making out in her room clearly romantically involved and it’s just so fucking hilarious.

then mj begins to discuss her car accident from the previous year and how she’s battling it w “natural remedies.” meanwhile, the ensemble, truly the conscious of the show, sings right through you while looking on from behind her. she begins to discuss her hot yoga and the stage begins to turn red, the music growing as we see all four healys in their own sections of the stage, each acting like everything is fine but doing something that shows its not (like nick is always doing push-ups. rip derek honestly lmao) as the song comes to a close.

we now transition to the breakfast table where mj is setting out pancakes. steve tries to kiss her but she pulls away, saying she’s “not a big morning kisser.” they talk for a bit, including the iconic exchange between mj and frankie: “when my friends and i wanted to save endangered sea lions we sold brownies on the quad. well, actually they were blondies” “of course they were blondies. even your brownies are caucasian.” aaaaand that line kicks off all i really want. such a powerful song. frankie stands up on the table and the band and ensemble come back in, just completely rocking out and blowing us all away w their choreography and energy as they surround the family, dancing around, on top and under the table. in the build-up to and then during frankie’s line “i’m frustrated by your apathy” the ensemble surrounds her with various protest signs. i can’t remember all of them but some highlights include “our future is dying,” “black joy matters,” “my body my choice,” “don’t be a fossil fool,” “white silence costs lives,” “no human is illegal,” “stop separating families” and “no ban on stolen land” while frankie carries one that says “does my period scare you.” it’s stunning. fast forward now to the “why are you petrified of silence? here can you handle this?” line. wow. frankie stands on the table, staring down mj in front of her and holds up a sign that says “fear has no place in our schools.” the ensemble all lays down in front of her w their arms crossed over their chests like they’re corpses and the screens behind her show projections of memorials for victims of gun violence in schools. the whole theater is silent for a solid thirty seconds. incredible. then they continue. another heart-wrenching moment is when it gets quiet before the final climax of the song and frankie goes “and all i really want is a wavelength.” she’s reaching out across the kitchen table to mj, who’s looking away from her at nick. mj’s arm rests on the table and as soon as frankie’s about to touch her hand mj moves to touch her own face, still looking the other way, not even realizing what frankie was doing. and their last belts. wow. mj and frankie are center stage, yelling at each other as they scream the final lines before frankie stomps off to go to school and mj is left alone in the kitchen where she swallows a pill— her pain meds for her car accident injuries.

a brief side note: let’s talk about the ensemble real quick. first of all they had input in a lot of their outfits and my fav is ezra’s which has a huge pink triangle on the back (they’re trans). i mean. wow. but also what’s important to know is that a lot of the main cast have sort of dancer body doubles? they have dancers who are supposed to represent them, be their alter egos and this comes into play a lot in the choreography and staging. mj’s double is heather, frankie’s double is ebony and jo’s double is ezra. i bring this up here because when frankie sings “i am fascinated by the spirit to a woman. i’m humbled by her humble nature” the ensemble lifts up ebony behind her and spins her around while frankie takes the same pose on the floor in front of them. absolutely genius.

and now we’re at school! we see bella, nick and andrew briefly discussing the party that will be happening tonight and then we zero in on jo (played my lauren patten my actual favorite human on this earth holy shit) and frankie, hanging out during what’s supposed to be a meeting for SMAC (social movement and advocacy committee) which frankie started— but rn they’re the only two members (also jo came in w a sign that says “let my people flow” and a picture of a pad because they were planning on protesting for the school to provide free menstrual products). jo and frankie have a sweet conversation featuring some hilarious comments from jo. frankie complains about her mom and jo responds “your mom is iconic. she’s one salad away from a psychotic break i live for it” then “at least your mom yells at you. mine prays for me. dear jesus. please don’t let my only child be a gay. especially not one of those obvious gays who wears performance fleece and utility sandals. in the name of fox news amen.” frankie is immediately concerned for jo and, for just a second, we see jo’s vulnerability and we know she must be really hurting but just as quickly she brushes it off: “i don’t care. i’ve been out of fucks to give since the early 2000’s.” really just phenomenal acting from lauren. wow. and now we have hand in my pocket! such a wonderful song. most of it is fun and uplifting (including a cute kiss between jo and frankie) but there was one part that really stood out to me. when jo sings “i haven’t got it all figured out just yet” she kinda stops for a moment and her face falls just slightly and frankie stands behind her, concerned, as the ensemble members dancing behind them all pair up and hug one another (including jo and frankie’s doubles: ezra and ebony). but just like that jo is back to singing and dancing and laughing, hiding her pain and uncertainty. at the end they do this adorable slap dance thing with the ensemble around them and everyone’s cheering and the lights are rainbow (yup thats gay) and it’s just so wholesome i love it.

now we go back to mj. we see her at the pharmacist’s office, trying to get a refill for her painkillers but being denied as she’s out. she then goes to a cafe where she runs into some other moms (laurel, jane and heather) and it’s hilarious. they’re all wearing the exact same outfits and sound so so fake. at one point ebony who is playing the barista asks if she can start a drink for anyone and one of them goes “i’ll take a skinny flat white” and ebony goes “how appropriate.” mj is clearly uncomfortable this whole time, especially when one of them makes a racist comment about frankie. after this she goes behind the cafe where she meets up w a drug dealer (played by john) and gets more of her painkillers. now comes smiling. this song is stunning. the whole song we see mj’s day moving backwards, all the way back to the morning when she took her first pill and she stares at herself in the mirror, clearly struggling. the whole song she and the ensemble all actually act everything out backwards, featuring ezra jump-roping backwards and antonio walking backwards while drinking coffee. true talent honestly lmao. and they move the sets so smoothly it’s amazing.

ironic!! so cute. so funny. the context is that frankie is reciting a poem to her class and they’re critiquing it but phoenix defends her. the desks are on wheels and the choreography is adorable. and frankie and phoenix’s voices WOW. and heather plays a stoner high schooler. this is not important it’s just so funny. after ironic there’s a moment in the hall where frankie and phoenix are still talking and so clearly flirting. jo walks up behind them but only sees frankie (on one side of the stage) at first. she starts to move towards her but then notices she’s talking to someone and gets a glimpse of her flirting w phoenix. jo’s face falls and she kind of falters, trying to decide whether to walk up to them and ultimately decides not to and walks off. lauren patten’s mannerisms in this whole show are just truly stunning. i really felt for jo everytime she was on stage. she’s so clearly putting up this sarcastic, uncaring front but really she’s just awkward and scared and lonely and lauren really does a phenomenal job making that come through— down to the fidgeting and awkward steps and nervous ticks that, once you notice them, make it clear who jo really is even though she doesn’t want to show it. yes i love lauren patten is it that obvious.

oK ANYWAY. back to mj. we see steve call to say he’s gonna be home late and they have a v passive aggressive conversation and then so unsexy happens. rip steve honestly. then perfect. mj and nick are decorating the tree. there’s a great line where mj goes “you need to make decisions for yourself” and he tries to put an ornament on the tree and she goes “no not there” and it’s so funny. but she just keeps going on about how he’s the only thing she’s done right and how proud she is of him. he asks “what if i hadn’t gotten in” re harvard and she goes ”you were always going to get in.”a couple of sympathetic sighs from the audience. then nick sings perfect and it’s honestly heartbreaking he’s so good and you feel so bad for him, always terrified that if he ever messes up his parents won’t love him anymore. that transitions right into lancer’s party.

here’s the thing about lancer’s party. this is the party where bella is sexually assaulted by andrew, kicking off her powerful storyline as a survivor and nick’s storyline about coming to terms w why he didn’t do anything at the time. but here’s why it’s so chilling, if that wasn’t enough: bella and andrew’s interactions at the party are not emphasized. in fact, if you didn’t know about the plot beforehand, you may not really notice anything at all. but it’s there. oh wow is it there. EVERY SINGLE TIME bella has anything to drink, andrew is the one to give it to her. she goes to talk to her friends and andrew grabs her hand and casually pulls her away. he puts his hand on her waist a little too often. he tries to get her alone one too many times. he barely leaves her side. but if you’re not looking for it, you may only see one of these just slightly ~off~ actions and think “hm that’s a little weird” and then move on. they’re not always center stage. they’re not always in a spotlight. they’re just part of the party. and we as audience members don’t stop to pay attention to them, even if we see something off. we’re not urged by staging to see it as important or vital to the story. and we don’t notice anything until it’s too late. the show puts us in the position of a bystander, like nick, who sees this all happening and does nothing. and this really comes back in the second act and punches you in the gut like. just wait.

anyways while the party is raging phoenix and frankie go outside on the swingset (!!!) and have a little heart-to-heart. they talk about their dysfunctional families and how frankie is adopted, a black girl in a perfect white family and how her mom “doesn’t see color” but she wishes she did. she talks about how her parents adopted her when she was little and how she’s been “fucking up their lives ever since.” phoenix comments “i have this theory that perfect families only exist in orange juice commercials and utah.” it’s funny and cute until it’s not. they start talking about how it’s not like they don’t love their families, it’s that they wish they were better kids. they think they’re not good enough and if they were different, everything would be better. phoenix says “if i were a better kid i’d have it all figured out. i could fix things at home. my dad might still call me.” and frankie agrees, adding “my mom might still love me.” and cue that i would be good. absolutely. heartbreaking. i cried so much. but it gets even worse when jo comes in. she enters on stage left w her mom, without her beanie and her flannel tied around her waist wearing a bright pink blouse. “there. i wore it.” she says, visibly shaking and looking away from her mom, almost curling in on herself. she takes the blouse off with unsteady hands, holding it behind her and still looking away. her mom yanks it out of her grip and jo flinches, “i don’t know why i even try, joanne.” as her mom leaves the stage jo quickly puts back on her beanie and flannel, looking terrified and heartbroken, and begins to sing “why won’t you accept who i need to be.” she crosses the stage to stand near phoenix and frankie, shaking and fidgeting the whole time. at the climax they all come to the front, frankie in the center, and just sing their hearts out and they just all look so— desperate. sad. lonely. it’s really just gut-wrenchingly beautiful and sad and just ugh. wow. and as jo starts to walk off stage and the lights fade phoenix asks “do you have a boyfriend?” jo freezes. “a boyfriend?” frankie repsonds, “no.”

now we’re on to the next day and jo is bringing coffee for her and frankie as she meets frankie at the swingset. they talk about last night and jo once again jokes and brushes off the church social she had to go to w her mom: “did you know that god forgives gay feelings as long as you don’t act on them? thanks for the life hack father tim.” then they discuss the party and jo pulls out her phone, showing that people had taken pictures of bella without her shirt on while she was passed out and had posted them all over social media. frankie immediately insists they go visit bella right that second to make sure she’s ok and tell her that they’re here for her. jo follows, in awe of frankie’s bravery and passion. as they head to bella’s we see andrew and nick doing their morning workout, andrew talking about how bella was “all over him” while the ensemble surrounds them, singing “this could get messy.”

we get to bella’s where she’s sitting on her couch in a flannel and sweatpants under a blanket. she eventually tells frankie and jo what happened, how she passed out in an empty room and woke up a few times to andrew assaulting her while she was unable to even talk much less fight back. as she begins to tell her story (it’s truly haunting, she sounds so just dead and done kathryn gallagher is amazing) a soft sound can be heard— the theme from predator. the soft “ooh” from the very start of bella’s song in the second act rings through the otherwise deathly silence as she softly starts to recount the horrors of the night before. frankie and jo immediately tell her that’s rape and she responds “what? no. i’m just a fucking idiot.” they try to assure her she’s not and urge her to go to the police. her response is heartbreaking: “are you kidding me? like i’m really gonna say andrew montefuray… everyone like worships his whole family. there is literally a statue of his grandpa downtown. plus, they never believe anyone anyway.” jo responds “we believe you.” she then reveals that nick saw something at the party and didn’t do anything and frankie goes to confront nick about it. he responds by telling her bella’s always overdramatic, that he shouldn’t be expected to look out for everyone. frankie looks devastated. mj walks in on their fight and, in response to frankie telling her bella was raped, says “you can’t just go calling the police every time a girl gets drunk and there’s some he said she said. these things can happen. i wouldn’t go making this your cause of the week.” cue wake up. frankie sings the opening lines directly to nick and mj, looking both furious and horrified. as the song builds the ensemble joins in and off to the side we see an interrogation room. frankie and jo come in w bella, trying to support her through what looks like a stressful interrogation w an intimidating male police officer who is constantly frowning and interrupting. we don’t get any dialogue from this as the song is happening around them but we see bella look more and more embarrassed and devastated as frankie and jo only look more angry. they eventually leave and andrew takes a seat and has what looks like a pleasant conversation w the policeman that ends in a friendly handshake. at the climax of wake up, after the interrogations, the whole ensemble is on stage and with them are the two moving panels/platforms. the main cast stand on the panels, and the ensemble moves them and flips them, revealing characters that were on the other side in switches so fast it’s incredibly impressive and overall a truly mesmerizing scene. the last line is frankie, alone in center stage with the ensemble behind her looking at mj who is in front of her staring out into the audience as frankie yells “wake up.” stunning.

the last scene of act one is forgiven. wow wow wow. mj goes into the church and begins to pray. she prays for her kids, for her marriage. then she begins to discuss something else. she goes “the last time i asked you for something…. well. you remember back in college. even after that night— that was my fault.” her voice breaks a little, sounding weaker and more scared by the second and once again the soft, ominous theme of predator can be heard in the distance. the same theme from when bella was accounting her assault and the theme that will come back in act two. chills. every time. mj starts to break down then, asking for help w her addiction. she admits she’s having a hard time stopping and begs for assistance. cue forgiven. in comes part of the ensemble— but only the non-male members of the ensemble. stunning. she begins the song and the ensemble moves the church pews and panels in a wonderful bit of choreography as the song grows. by the second chorus bella appears from the back of the stage and slowly walks up to join mj as the non-male members of the ensemble move the pews to surround the two of them. mj and bella stand back to back in front of a semi-circle of the non-male ensemble standing on benches. they chant “sinner! witch! whore!” while mj continues to sing and they point at bella and mj at each word, the lights flashing. it’s haunting. then bella joins the ensemble and they leave as mj moves to exit the church. she’s outside now, snow falling around her as we reach the climax of the song and the rest of the cast joins her on stage one by one. i couldn’t tell this was the case on the cast album but on that last chorus each main character gets their own line over the ensemble as they enter the stage. steve starts, “we all had delusions in our heads,” then nick, “we all had our minds made up for us,” then frankie, “we had to believe in something. so i will,” then andrew “we all had our reasons to be there” then bella, “we all had a thing or two to learn,” then finally jo, “we all needed something to cling to. so we did.” we could talk about how meaningful all of those lines are to each of those characters for hours honestly. and now the whole ensemble begins to join and the chorus only grows, everyone just singing their hearts out as they belt (ELIZABETH’S VOICE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK) and they end with a haunting final note “amen.” and that’s the end of act one. holy fucking shit.

#jlp #jagged little pill #jagged little broadway #elizabeth stanley #sean allen krill #derek klena #celia gooding #lauren patten #kathryn gallagher

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welcometophu · 5 years ago

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Into the Split: Evolution 2

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Evolution 2

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When the doorbell rings during dinner, Nikolai is out of his seat before Pawel can say anything. “I’ve got it,” he calls out. And maybe he should just let Pawel get it; it’s his house, after all. But sitting through meals with Pawel is a little like watching a child fidget, and Nikolai just wants to move. He’s not sure why Pawel is going through the motions of formal meals with Nikolai and Seth when it’s obvious he has other things on his mind.

Nikolai pulls open the door, and Nikita shoves a pile of… bags?… at him. He isn’t quite sure what he’s holding, although he sees hangers poking out of one end.

He steps back to let Nikita, Heather, Mac, and a girl Nikolai doesn’t recognize into the house. Mac’s carrying a large stack of bags herself, and Nikita runs back to the bright orange truck to grab one last stack before hip-checking the door closed.

“Mac,” Pawel says.

“Pawel,” Mac replies. “I warned you.”

“See, there’s a thing,” Nikita says in a rush. She lays the bags on the couch, then grabs Nikolai and Seth by the wrists, pulling them close to her. “We’re in a sorority. Or well. They’re in a sorority, along with Carolyn, and a whole bunch of other people. So I’m dating a girl in a sorority.”

Nikolai follows that so far. Mostly. “You belong to an organization of women in school. Okay. So?”

“Heather does,” Nikita corrects him. “I’m her date. Which is actually a sort of important distinction here because that’s why we cannot possibly be your dates.”

Nikolai looks at Seth; Seth blinks back at him.

“I don’t get it,” Seth says.

“The SigPsiE formal is tomorrow night and it’s a huge thing, and I know it isn’t anything world-healing or earth shattering, but it’s still really cool, and I’m going and it’s not like you’ve got anything else to do, so Heather and I found you dates,” Nikita blurts out.

Nikolai’s still not sure he gets it.

“What?” Seth says.

“Mac and Trish are going to be your dates in name only so you can go enjoy the dance.” Nikita claps her hands, gestures at the bags that Nikolai still carries. “We brought suits and dresses so we can figure out what you’re all wearing and make sure you match!”

Nikolai is pretty sure he should have a response to this other than the complete blankness inside his head.

Pawel presses his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “Mac. I told you this would be a—”

“It’s like prom for college,” Seth says slowly.

“Yes!” Nikita points both fingers at him. “If you remember what prom was like, it’s exactly like that except for college people in a sorority and there may be more or less drinking depending on what you remember about proms and there are no promposals involved. Inviting a date is pretty low-key. If you’re going out with someone, everyone just assumes you’re going to formal with them. It’s a thing.”

“We’re going,” Seth decides, tone firm enough that Nikolai isn’t going to argue with him. “As long as it’s okay if we dance with each other.” He points between himself and Nikolai.

“You’re trying to turn something awkward into something weirdly romantic, aren’t you,” Nikolai says. It’s not a question, and he’s not surprised when Seth answers it with a kiss instead of words. He feels a little like Nikita’s rolling right over him with this, but Seth’s involvement is kind of cute. He hopes this’ll be good.

“See, I told you they’d do it!” Nikita says cheerfully. “Now we just need to get everyone outfitted. We borrowed clothes from a lot of different people so we can find the best fit, and I’m hoping Nikolai isn’t too skinny for everything we got that’s tall. Nikolai, your date is going to be Trish.” She indicates the girl he doesn’t know, who wiggles her fingers in a small wave at him.

“Hey,” Trish says in a soft drawl. “I’ve been friends with Heather and Mac here since our freshman year when we all pledged together. I promise I don’t bite unless someone asks me to.”

“Don’t scare the boys.” Mac elbows her. “Trish is outgoing but harmless. She’s also a little out of the loop about all the insanity that’s been going on around her, and she claims she’s just happy to do something that lets her see we’re still alive.”

“You say that like I wasn’t worried about you,” Trish counters. When she turns, Nikolai catches a hint of ink on the back of her neck before her hair falls into place over it. “All y’all were just gone.”

Mac sets a hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t intentional, and if we could’ve warned you, we would’ve. Believe me, gallivanting off to another world wasn’t part of our project plan, either. It’s not like we tried to keep you in the dark.”

“They’ve all got something about saving the world, and me, I just want to make music and fix engines,” Trish says. She pushes her hair back from her face, and it falls in long waves. Her soft drawl sounds low and easy, but Seth tenses. Nikolai guesses from his body language that Trish is hiding a lot of tension of her own. “The formal’s just about having a party, and once we’re there, you can dance with anyone you want. I’m figuring that I’m your date because you’re the tall one, and Mac would need some high heels to be in pictures with you.”

“I’m really glad you switched that to a comment about Mac’s height, not mine,” Seth mutters dryly. “Just because you’re taller than me—”

“And it’s not an actual date, so it doesn’t matter,” Heather says easily. “Come on. We’ve got suits to try on you, and once we’ve got you settled, we’ll figure out the dresses for Mac and Trish.” She glances over her shoulder. “Are you wearing a dress, Trish?”

Trish lifts one shoulder. “I was figuring on it. Usually do, for things like this. I did learn how to be a belle before I learned how to ride a motorcycle.” She flashes a quick grin before that. “Had my arms up to the elbows in truck engines long before either of those things, though.”

“You seem like the folks back home would like you,” Nikolai comments, because he can imagine she’d get along great with Mikhail. Especially if she could help keep the Jeep running. “Everyone does something in Havenhill. We kind of felt a little useless since we never really got the chance to learn skills like fixing engines.”

“It’s never too late to learn.”

Nikolai doesn’t get the chance to respond to Trish as Nikita wraps an arm around his and nudges him toward the stairs. “Heather’s bringing the suits. Come on, let’s get you changed.”

Heather spreads clothes across the bed in Nikolai and Seth’s room. All of it reminds Nikolai of a time when his father sometimes would dress in a suit for work, and when Seth holds a suit up in front of himself, Nikolai sees Seth’s father as well.

Seth turns to look at himself in the mirror. His head tilts, and his brow furrows as he slowly lowers the suit, his fingers crumpling the fabric. “Do you have one that’s lighter?”

“Fabric or color?” Nikita asks. She rifles through the piles and comes up with a suit in soft dove grey out of the ones on Seth’s side of the bed. “Try this one on. It’ll go with just about any dark and bold shirt, too, which gives us loads of options for matching you to Mac.”

“What if I want to match Nikolai?” Seth asks.

Because that was what proms did. Nikolai remembers the movies, with their images of teenagers dancing together in a sea of fanciful gowns and rented tuxedos.

“Then it’s more of a challenge,” Trish says. She leans in the doorway, motions with a hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m here for the suits, not to ogle the boys.”

Nikolai looks to Nikita for help as he points at the door. “Out,” he says. “We aren’t dolls. You don’t need to physically dress us. I’m pretty sure we can figure out how suits work.”

They manage to get the girls out of the room and the door closed, leaving a rumble of voices muffled by the walls between them. Nikolai sifts through the various garment bags and piles of clothing, coming up with a pair of dark grey slacks that seem long enough and while they hang a little loose on his narrow hips, they at least don’t show his ankles and should stay up with a belt. Finding a jacket proves far more difficult; all the ones with arms long enough are also too wide for his shoulders. He finally finds a lightweight jacket that fits through his shoulders even though the sleeves are short; he figures he could roll up the sleeves. Someone might say he’s not dressed right, but at least it’s better than looking like he’s dressing up in a kid’s jacket.

Seth, on the other hand, fits perfectly in the light grey suit. He’s wearing it with just a t-shirt, but even that looks amazing on him. Seth smoothes it down, glancing over at Nikolai worriedly. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look a little like your father,” Nikolai responds. There’s a flash of pain in Seth’s expression, his mouth pressed close and lines tight around his eyes. Nikolai has to step over the few pairs of slacks that have slid off the bed and onto the floor in order to get around to where Seth stands. Nikolai checks the collar, then pulls Seth in for a warm hug, trying to hold him against the painful memories. “And you look great,” he murmurs.

Seth goes lax slowly, releasing tight muscles by inches. When he pulls back, he shifts his grip so that they are standing as if they could be dancing. Seth’s arms are over Nikolai’s shoulders, and Nikolai holds his hands loosely at the small of Seth’s back. Seth hums under his breath and Nikolai starts to sway with him in his arms.

It’s nice.

Voices rise in the hall, and a sharp rap on the door interrupts the moment. “Are you decent?” Nikita calls out.

“It’s safe,” Seth calls back, not bothering to stop swaying to the music in their minds. He touches Nikolai’s cheek and Nikolai bends down so they can stand there, forehead to forehead, almost in their own world.

“Awwww,” Nikita says, and there’s a click in the background. “You guys are so cute. We’re going to have to print out a bunch of pictures for you to take back with you. You should have these memories when you go home.”

It’s the first time she’s referenced them leaving without Nikolai prompting her, and it makes his heart light to hear the words.

“We’ll make a scrapbook, assuming we have enough notice and time,” Heather says. She moves into the room and starts efficiently picking up scattered clothes, folding things neatly and replacing them on hangars. “On the other hand, it’s not like we’ve had a lot of notice before crossing between worlds before, so we’ll have to do our best.”

“Send them to me, and I’ll make sure they get printed,” Trish says. “Sera can send them off to the printer, or I’ll have Soledad take them. Be prepared, right? Just in case y’all get whisked away again.” She steps up close to Nikolai and Seth, and even in her sneakers she’s a bit taller than Seth. She tilts her head at them. “I’d say you both clean up pretty good. I’m guessing no one’s going to let me get away with wearing my favorite orange dress this time, huh?”

“We want to coordinate,” Mac says. “Nikita set the rules. Although I look damned good in yellow, so it’s not entirely out as an option.”

Pawel clears a space on the bed and sits down, distracted by the phone in his hand. He waves at the door. “Mac, Trish, go use my room to get changed and pick out your dresses and find shirts for Nikolai and Seth. I want to talk to Nikolai and Nikita about the Dreamweaver network.”

Heather helps Trish and Mac carry another stack of bags and clothes down the hall to Pawel’s room, closing the door with a click behind them. Pawel’s shoulders drop at the sound, and he gestures at the bed. “Make a space. Sit down and get comfortable.”

“Don’t wrinkle the suits,” Nikita says.

Seth rolls his eyes and neatly piles up the clothes scattered around the room so that he and Nikolai can find a spot to sit on the bed. They lean back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. Nikita crosses her arms and stays standing by the window.

“Don’t,” Pawel murmurs idly.

“I’m not. I just don’t feel like sitting down, and maybe I’m keeping an eye on the clouds,” Nikita responds. She lifts the curtain, then lets it fall. “I’m under control. Not freaking out at all.”

“Good.” Pawel lowers the phone, pulls his feet up so he can sit cross-legged. “The good news is, I’ve made several contacts around the world who are Dreamwalkers. I’ve been talking to them about what we learned in Nikolai’s world, as well as our theories about creating a network in the Dreamscape between as many Dreamwalkers as we can find.”

“And they all think you’re nuts,” Nikita says, her voice falling soft at the end.

“At first, yes.” Pawel swipes at something on the phone. “The gut instinct reaction was no, which isn’t at all surprising considering the way that Dreamwalkers have interacted in the past in our world. The number of them who have been institutionalized, or who have caused major incidents, is far higher than any other Talent. But as I explained how your Talents have come under control, and how Nikolai’s world handles the Emergence of any Dreamwalker, they began to listen. One noted that she finds that she is less likely to Dream when she is visiting her brother, who married an Empath. Another remembered dating an Empath when he was first learning to deal with his Talent in high school, but they lost track of each other. In fact, every Dreamwalker I have spoken with could recount at least one incident in their life where they were somehow drawn to an Empath, and found that calming.”

“So it isn’t just our world,” Seth says. “This is a truism about our Talents in general.” His fingers link with Nikolai’s, his thumb stroking idly along the side of Nikolai’s hand.

“Exactly. Which means that gathering Dreamwalkers also means gathering Empaths.” Pawel jabs at his phone, then points at Nikolai and Seth, and from Nikita to the door. “And not necessarily any Empaths, but possibly the right Empath. The eleven people to whom I have spoken are all continuing to create the network. Each one is trying to find their Empath—that first instinctive link that they forged—in order to bring them into the conversation. They are also reaching out to the Dreamwalkers they are aware of, which isn’t all that difficult thanks to the meticulous generational records kept by Lineage Dreamwalkers.”

“Just that thought, of Dreamwalkers having a Lineage,” Nikolai muses. He wonders if his life would have been different if he grew up in a family of Dreamers rather than Weather Witches. He can’t imagine life having been any other way, and he wouldn’t trade his brothers for the world.

Pawel goes quiet.

“What?” Nikita asks.

“Did we discuss this before?” Pawel says slowly.

“My parents were Weather Witches,” Nikolai responds just as slowly, not sure where Pawel is going with this line of thought. “You knew that. You’ve met my brothers.”

“And Nikita is from a family of Weather Witches as well,” Pawel points out. “You are mirror images. I thought that was why—”

“No,” Seth says curtly, cutting Pawel off. “You said that here there are Lineage families of Dreamwalkers, but another one is rarely born into the family while one is already there, so it skips a generation or more, right? So that’s how your world adapted to the need to find that anchor. For us, it’s Emergent, but everyone knows about it. Which might be easier, because we have really strong, established networks to help each Dreamwalker find an Empath who will work with them as soon as one is needed. My family moved to help bring me closer to Nikolai after we met and they knew we’d work well together. But we don’t have families of Dreamwalkers, latent or otherwise. They just happen.”

It doesn’t sound all that different to Nikolai, and he suspects that it could just be different ways of looking at the same thing. Either way… “I don’t think it matters how we manifest our Talents,” he says. “What matters is getting everyone stable enough that we don’t have the kinds of problems that your Dreamwalkers are prone to.”

“No surprise ice storms or absorbing the east coast into the Dreamscape,” Nikita says.

Pawel laughs dryly. “Essentially, yes. I’m sending an invitation to all of you to join a chat that I’ve set up for everyone as our network grows. I’d like you to begin to get to know each other, and Nikolai, as you and Del seem to have more experience within the Dreamscape itself, I’d like it if you could start discussing theory with everyone. In the end, we will need to have our network manifest within the Dreamscape, and make a connection to the Dreamwalkers of your world.”

“Who are hopefully creating a network in our absence.” Nikolai can’t be sure that anything’s happening there, not after how Alia felt about the way they had endangered Havenhill. “We have no way of getting through to them right now.”

“Not easily, no,” Pawel admits. “We may need to find a way to make regular forays into the Dreamscape in order to search for them, and hope that they reach out in a similar manner. Much like the Technopaths seeking each other across the networks.”

“More Dreaming,” Nikolai says softly, and Seth squeezes his hand. Nikolai holds on tightly, because he’s going to need his anchor if that’s what’s expected of him.

The door down the hall slams open, footsteps and chatter approaching quickly. Nikita claps her hands as Trish appears in the doorway. Her dress is off one shoulder, the fabric seeming to cross her chest like a bathing suit top first, then another strip that goes over the shoulder. The skirt falls away below, clinging until her hips where it flares out slightly. And it is, indeed, orange, a blend of that and black in an almost tie-dye pattern that shimmers as she moves.

Mac squeezes into the room past Trish, her own dress closer to yellow than orange, but still similar in color to Trish. It’s a less striking dress, just a simple cut with a skirt that swirls around mid-calf when she walks, but it looks good with her build. Mac holds out two ties that are close enough that they match the two dresses. “White shirts,” she says. “Ties will match, and let’s get some pictures now so that our sisters can approve.”

“Your friends have to approve?”

“Not approve. It’s just.” Heather spreads her hands. “Formal tends to be a collective thing. It’s very social.”

Nikolai takes the tie from Trish and stares at it uncertainly. He has never worn one, and barely remembers his father wearing one, and the thought of it sounds uncomfortable.

“Come here.” Pawel gestures, and Nikolai hands him the tie. Pawel frowns, gesturing at the t-shirt, but Nikolai doesn’t have anything else. In the end, Pawel simply puts the tie around his own neck, ties it with quick efficiency, then loosens it in order to hand it to Nikolai. He does the same for Seth.

Nikolai feels a little silly standing there in a t-shirt, suit, and tie, but Seth looks almost the same so it isn’t all bad. Nikita places them in front of the window together, and Mac stands on Seth’s other side, and Trish presses close to Nikolai. As Nikita takes pictures, Trish and Mac get progressively sillier, until Nikolai can’t help but laugh as well.

The last picture has Trish pretending to push him into Seth’s arms, while Mac does the same with Seth, and Nikolai doesn’t want to resist so he gathers Seth close and kisses him again.

“I think we’re all set for formal.” Heather tucks her phone back into her pocket.

“Nikita, catch Heather up on what we discussed,” Pawel says, and just like that, the atmosphere is charged and serious. “Please spend some time looking through the chat and getting to know the people I’ve managed to pull together so far. This is going to require a group effort.”

A faint hint of concern in the air, masked as soon as Seth sidles close again.

“That’s a problem for later,” Mac says, pushing between them. “Heather, Nik, get all this stuff back out to the truck. Seth and Nikolai, you can hold on to your suits, and I’ll make sure someone brings over shirts for you before the formal tomorrow. Trish, let’s get changed and get out of here. Pawel deserves a little peace and quiet.” She gives him a stern look. “He needs a chance to relax since he’s obviously been working hard on world-saving problems all day.”

“I’m not—” Pawel cuts off, his hands in the air. “Fine. We’ll relax.”

“Do I need to come back inside and make you watch movies after you call your son?” Mac asks.

Pawel wavers.

“He’s going to disappear into his room and keep researching,” Seth points out. “We’re interested in the movies, if the offer is open.”

“We’ll all watch movies. Just let us get this out of here first, then you guys can get changed.” Mac shoves a pile of clothes into Nikita’s arms. “That includes you, Pawel. Go downstairs and call Conor, then order some Thai. I’m in the mood for noodles.”

Nikolai’s phone pings, and he glances at the screen reminding him that he has an email from Pawel with a link to go look at. He leaves it lying on the stand, ignoring it.

Most of the time everyone looks to Pawel as a leader, but right now, he likes that Mac is taking charge. The network might mean getting home, or it might mean making everything worse. Maybe one night off will help make it easier when he dives into that chat and starts meeting Dreamwalkers from around the world. Later. That is definitely something for later tonight.

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mxliv-oftheendless · 5 years ago

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Don’t Worry, Be Happy

I noticed I haven’t written anything featuring Starchild and Black Dahlia being bros together, so I decided to write this. I’ll also be moving into my dorm at college on Saturday, so I wanted to write one last story before I leave. This story was partially inspired by my going dress-shopping with my mom for a wedding yesterday.

Today on the Black Dahlia series, Heather is left feeling empty and depressed after losing her powers, and Paul tries to temporarily mend that. Enjoy!

When Heather forced her eyes open, she immediately wanted to close them again. Another day on Planet Earth, guaranteed to be lousy.

Nonetheless, she knew she had to get up. The band was spending one more day in Philadelphia before heading out again to the next city, and she knew the guys would want to spend it sightseeing. She didn’t particularly want to sightsee, but knew they would want her to come along. Oh well. She could always challenge Gene to a race up the Rocky steps at the art museum.

So she hauled herself up out of bed and went to her suitcase to pull out a shirt and pants. She dressed, her movements slow, then splashed some cold water on her face and ran a brush through her blonde hair. She was about to grab her sunglasses and leave her hotel room, then suddenly stopped at the sight of her purse. For some reason, she felt compelled to bring it with her. At the last moment, she grabbed it and left her hotel room.

When she entered the breakfast area, she found Paul was already there, sunglasses firmly over his eyes as he ate at a table in the corner. She quickly got her breakfast—it was fruit, mainly—and went to sit across from him.

Paul looked up at her as she sat down. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Heather murmured back, picking up her fork and spearing a piece of cantaloupe.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” Heather forced herself to lift the fork to her mouth and eat the piece of fruit. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but knew that if she didn’t eat now she would regret it later.

Paul scrutinized her. “Are you sure? You look like you didn’t.”

“I slept fine,” Heather said curtly. She couldn’t bring herself to snap at her best friend. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re still asleep.”

There was silence as they both ate. Heather finished after Paul, since although her breakfast was rather meager compared to his, he had already been there for some time. Paul looked at her plate as she finished. “Is that all you’re eating?”

Heather looked down at her empty plate and shrugged. “Probably,”

Paul gazed at her with a look Heather couldn’t quite figure out. Then he nodded. “Right. C’mon, grab your purse.”

He stood up. Heather looked at him in confusion, to which he waved his hand. “C’mon!”

Heather stood up, though she was still confused. “Uh, what are you doing?”

Paul grabbed her hand and escorted her out of the breakfast area. “We are going out together,” he said, in a tone that suggested there was no room for argument. “We are going to have fun, and you are going to like it.”

“I get the feeling I’m not going to like it,” Heather stated.

Paul turned to her. “C’mon, Heather, please? We haven’t spent time together in ages.”

That was true—they hadn’t spent time together, just the two of them, in a very long time. But Heather still wasn’t sure. “I don’t know—”

“I’ll order you as Prince of KISSteria to have fun,” Paul threatened. “And we both know how much I hate doing that.”

That was also true; Paul liked pulling rank about as much as Gene liked being away from Vinneketh. Heather sighed heavily. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Paul grinned at her. “Nope!” he said cheerfully. “Now c’mon!”

He pulled her hand and began to run out of the lobby. In spite of herself, Heather had to crack a smile.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad…

-EARTH-

Of course the first place Paul took her to was a clothing store. But to his credit, it was a smaller store, not a bigger brand store.

Heather voiced this aloud: “A clothing store—how typical of you,”

“Not my fault you don’t have better clothes to wear. Because right now,” he gestured to her clothing, “you look ghastly.”

Heather looked down at her clothes. “I do not!”

“Yes, you do. That’s why we’re here. I actually thought you would like the clothes here the first time I came.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now let’s see what we can find.”

Heather found herself following Paul around the store as he looked at the clothing on the racks. He would take a piece of clothing off the rack, hold it up next to Heather, then either shake his head and put it back or give it to her to fold over her arm. He picked out shirts, pants, a couple dresses and skirts, and a couple scarves.

“Don’t I get an opinion on what you pick out?” Heather asked at one point.

“Hush, Sister, and let the master do the work,” was the reply she got.

Once he finished selecting things out for her, he dragged her over to the fitting rooms and they sorted out the selections. “Okay, try on this,” he gave her a shirt, “with this,” a pair of pants, “and… this,” a scarf.

When Heather came out wearing the clothes, Paul looked her over skeptically. “It looks all right… How does it feel?”

Heather shifted around. “I’m not sure… how is it supposed to be?”

“It’s supposed to feel right for you. It looking nice is a side perk. Does it feel right?”

Heather looked at herself in the mirror. It looked nice… but the pants felt rather tight, and something just felt off about the colors of the shirt. “… Not really,”

Paul nodded. “Okay. Go take it off.” Once she had done that, Paul handed her another outfit to try on. “Try this outfit.”

When she came out wearing this outfit, she and Paul looked at it in the mirror. “This one looks better,” Paul observed. “How does it feel?”

Heather looked down at the pants. “I don’t really like the pants… Can we try the shirt with something else?”

“Sure,” Paul went over to the selections and rifled through them, then took out a skirt and handed it to her. “Try it with this.”

Heather put on the skirt, then came out and looked again. She had to stare at herself for a second.

The shirt definitely went better with the skirt, and both looked good on her. She let a small smile come to her face. “I like this better,”

Paul smiled. “It looks better. And I think if you put your hair up like this…” he twisted her hair up into a bun, then his smile widened. “Oh yeah, that’ll look amazing.”

Heather gazed at her reflection, and smiled again. She did look kind of pretty. She wasn’t used to wearing clothes with the intention of looking or feeling pretty. She wore simple clothes because she’d worn simple clothes from the moment she’d started living with the Sisterhood. They weren’t concerned with their looks. “I guess it does look kind of pretty…”

Paul smiled at her in the mirror and let her hair fall back down. “Want to try on something else?”

Ah, what the heck? “Sure,”

Paul practically bounded over to the selections and began rifling through them. “Aren’t you going to get something for yourself?” Heather asked him.

Paul scoffed as he put together an outfit. “I don’t need to. I look good in everything.”

“Yeah, everything but your “Tears Are Falling” costume,”

“… That one doesn’t count.”

Heather laughed.

Paul turned around and pointed at her, but he was smiling even as he did so. “Shut up, you,” he said, even though he sounded like he was trying not to laugh, “and try these on,”

-EARTH-

They left the store with a couple large bags of clothes, after spending more time than Heather thought necessary in the store. “I think we have enough to burn your old clothes,” Paul said cheerfully as they walked down the sidewalk.

“You do that and I’ll draw on your face while you sleep,”

Paul thought for a moment, then looked at her apprehensively. “You wouldn’t,”

Heather smiled devilishly at him. “Oh, but I would,”

There was a short pause, then Paul relented. “Okay, fine, we won’t burn your clothes… Can we donate them?”

Heather considered that. “… Some of them,”

Paul smiled triumphantly. “I’ll take it,”

Heather rolled her eyes. “So, what’s next on our tour of Philadelphia?”

“Well, Independence Hall is nearby if you want to go there,”

Heather perked up at that. She was always down for appreciating history—as a member of the order responsible for preserving KISSteria’s history, she had been surrounded by it almost her entire life. “Can we?”

Independence Hall was certainly impressive. She could just feel the history radiating off the walls. She also noticed Paul was making an effort to listen attentively to what the tour guide was saying, something she greatly appreciated—he wasn’t into history as much as she was. At one point she turned and nudged Paul teasingly. “I didn’t think you’d be so supportive of democracy, Prince Starchild,” she whispered.

Paul rolled his eyes fondly at her. “Very funny,”

After touring Independence Hall, they stopped for lunch at a nearby café. Heather found herself actually eating most of what she ordered. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt… different today. But it was a good different—she felt better than she had in a long time. Paul clearly noticed, but wasn’t saying anything, instead occasionally glancing up at her with a small smile on his face. He had been doing that all day so far, as if he thought Heather didn’t notice.

After lunch, they decided to walk to the art museum. “Gene said you were going to challenge him to a race up the steps,” Paul commented as they neared the mentioned steps.

Heather smiled briefly. “Yeah, I was,”

Paul glanced around. “Well, he’s not here…”

They looked at each other. Paul grinned, and Heather, once she realized what he was thinking, started to grin back.

“Race you up the steps!” Paul shouted, then took off running. Heather ran after him, laughing. People walking up and down the steps looked oddly at the sight of them, two fully-grown adults racing up the steps with shopping bags in their hands and laughing like children.

It ended up being a tie, but neither of them were satisfied with that outcome. “I… totally won that,” Heather panted, breathless from running.

“Liar…” Paul shot back, also panting. “I… totally beat you.”

“You’re the liar, Paul Stanley,”

“I beg to differ, Heather McMann,”

They looked at each other, and started to laugh again. They collapsed onto a nearby bench, leaning against each other and laughing.

It felt good to laugh, Heather thought. Eric was always trying to make her laugh, sometimes joined by the rest of the guys, but most of the time she was just laughing so they would leave her alone. She knew they cared, but at the same time, she didn’t want them to worry too much about her, when they had the band to worry about. It felt good to laugh out loud without any thought to who was hearing.

“Can I ask you something?” Heather asked once their laughter died down.

“You just did,” Paul cracked, grinning.

Heather pushed his shoulder. “I’m serious.”

Paul laughed. “Okay, sorry. What is it?”

“… Did you really want to spend time with me today, or did you drag me out because you’re worried about me?”

Paul’s smile faded as he considered how to answer. “It’s… really both,” he said after a few moments. “I did want to spend time with you, because you’re my best friend. But I am also worried about you. And I know what you’re going to say,” he added when Heather opened her mouth, “but I can’t really help it. You’ve just been so… out of it since… well, you know. I just wanted you to be happier, even if it was for a little while.”

Heather thought about his words. He was right; she had been very out of it since What Happened. Even this morning, she hadn’t even wanted to get up, and her breakfast, even though fruit was her favorite, had tasted bland.

But after that… she had been having fun. She’d been smiling, and laughing, and joking around, like before everything that had happened. And her food had tasted better, perhaps because of her lightened mood. She had felt better today than any other day this past month.

Heather wrapped her arms around Paul, who had been waiting for her reply, and hugged him tightly. “Thank you. What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

Paul hugged her back. “You’re welcome. I love you platonically.”

“I love you platonically too, Starchild.”

When they separated, Paul looked up at the large building. “Still want to go inside?”

Heather nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They stood up, and Paul offered her his arm, smiling jokingly. “Milady,”

Heather laughed and took his arm, then they walked up the steps to the museum entrance.

#black dahlia series #black dahlia #heather mcmann #starchild #heather is depressed and needs a break #paul decides to drag her out to have fun #paul: YOU'RE GONNA HAVE FUN AND YOU'RE GONNA LIKE IT #I love writing these guys and their friendship #lots of platonic love #the most underrated kind of love imo #the other guys don't make an appearance #just assume they're off having fun too #paul and heather are bros #kiss au writing #my writing #hope you enjoyed!

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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twenty seven club (Branjie) - PinkGrapefruit

A/N -

PLEASE READ

Hey! Like most things I write, I started this on a whim and apparently it’s okay. I heavily recommend checking the tags because it’s a little dark in places. It’s written to ‘27 club’ by adore delano and focuses on the relationship between brooke and vanjie. thanks to Q-tip for beta-ing me like the goddess she is and telling me that what I write is mostly not insane. Since I use a lot of flower metaphors there will be a dictionary at the bottom of the page and I in no way intend for this to glorify mental illness or substance abuse. other than that, remember As usual, all work is my own and although this is based on real people, both the characters and the story are my own interpretation and therefore fully fabricated. Enjoy! x

All of his dreams

Are in the fast lane scene

These habits go so fast, he can’t see

I watch you as you dance. The freedom it gives you, a drug I can never take away. The ribbons bind your legs like a bouquet, all lean orchids, pussywillow and dreams. You smell of coffee and cigarettes like I suppose all dancers do and I inhale your second-hand smoke like it fuels me. Like knowing it was once your air too gives me another reason to stay alive. In reality, it just means that your burdens are my burdens, the likelihood we will both submit to cancer exponentially higher with each lungful I take in. It will fill my windpipe with tar and make footholds of my lungs and I care too much for this shit. It will climb me like I used to climb you but as each inhale draws it into my body, it will never have the passion to finish me off.

I pray at the altars of peace and hope, for you to come down off your pedestal and face me for once. I wish that life has not crossed you the way it crossed me for I am more resilient than you. You have crumbled under the weight of your own tutu and I am here only to rebuild what I can. You are more bandaid than flesh these days. Your problems circle you like thunderclouds, rolling in and settling for a week or three as you find your footing. The grey matches the cigarettes and the carpet and your eyes. The tacky residue of the old bandages builds up like moss over time, all the same, stormcloud grey burnished and raw.

Over time the moss turns into foxglove and wormwood and something akin to the flowers my mamma used to grow in the tin cans under the kitchen window. I learn to recognise the smell of blood with the roses and how despair turns the foxglove a pale blue in the right lighting. How your ribs could grow orchards between them if you weren’t so impatient. You plant watermelon seeds between your teeth and they crunch when you bite down. The sound they make identical the sound of new pointe shoes when you would break them in on the balcony. You smoke in the rain now, claim it’s not cliche because it makes the flowers grow. I laugh something hollow and deeply unnatural. The smile you give me scares me. It is deeply unnatural.

Baby lost his mind

Nobody gives in time

The drugs are worth it

Or so it seems

I watch you in the dressing room. I am a drag husband at your gigs and I wait to see whether you need a smoke break or just my attention. It is always the former. Your nails are far enough into the soft flesh of your palms that I can see them compressing beneath the shiny black acrylic. You like this outfit because you don’t have to prune the marigolds from your spine. The way they wove through you like the grief they are supposed to show, unyielding to the weedkiller I slather on liberally every night. As you undress I watch you, their pale yellow shines like moonlight in the old LEDs and it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. And then the main light turns on and I see what everyone else sees and I am disgusted by what I have done. The way I have allowed you to abuse what we both loved will haunt me and I am sorry. The marigolds do not shine like the moon but like a warning sign, bright and clear. Every flower that has inhabited your skeleton calls you a different name, pumps you full of feelings I was never taught about in school because they are not nice to feel. Foxglove for insecurity and wormwood for bitter absence.

I scream but you do not hear me. My vocal cords are entangled in ivy for faithfulness but we must call it what it is. It binds me to my words, keeps me imprisoned in my own body as I try to help to no avail. I watch, as if a spectator, as I fail to find the right words. You see the way I am looking at you, my eyes wet, licked with the pity I cannot speak. My tongue is bound by my fear of hurting you but seeing you like this I don’t know how that’s still a hypothetical. God, everything about you is a hypothetical. I sew your pointe shoes with thorns in the ribbon, in some fucked up part of my head I hope that it will deter you but you feel the pain like burning embers of a fire. You dance upon the coals and it’s beautiful but goddamnit Brooke. That’s not what I meant to do. This crumbling facade of perfection is about to crack wide open and you will fall like the petals of asphodel.

I hear choirs in your cries. Every sob is a new verse. Every break is the steady hum of the shower.

I’ve been trying and I’ve been buying

And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying

And that’s how I know

Our love isn’t what it used to be, then again neither is the economy so we all have our crosses to bear. What used to be an altar to the powers of love and good food, that which used to burn bright in the temples of our bodies, sputters like a flame choked with fumes. Fumes of whatever it is you burn to keep the demons away. I couldn’t say. It smells like losing hope and if that’s too poetic for you, it smells like gasoline. Anger. Like how the tears drip down my face at the mention of you, hot and wet like acid. Like the tracks will burn into my skin like brands. Like this is the way it ends with me forever reminded of you, the way you are burned into my skin.

I pray for relief from this fiery hell you’ve built but all I see are the scars of where you tried to claw your way out. The walls mottle ash and dirt bound together by blood pacts and long forgotten promises. I am a long-forgotten promise to you. You choke down Marlboroughs just as often as you cough them back up but these petals are no blue roses, they are red dahlias. Every breath sounds like a betrayal of what we hold close, the noise of the fire louder in my ears than the lighting of your matches. I take Lobelia and put it with orange lily to make a bouquet I would never give because I am not cruel enough for that. Instead, I replace the malevolence with ambrosia and the hatred with hand-picked daisies, add babies breath and cowslip, keep the smile tacked to my face when all my muscles are pulling down. I ignore the vital notion to run in favour of watching you tear yourself apart. I ignore the urge to save myself, I’d rather save you.

All of the legends

Die at twenty-seven

They all went to heaven

All of the legends

You have long passed twenty-seven and I am glad because had you not I believe you would have fallen to the same fate. Luckily for me, you are healing. An eglantine rose among a bed of nails, all rusted and ready to impale you at any moment. We stood on the balcony at dawn, watched the sunrise as we mourned the loss of the foxglove, shuffled in the age gladiolus and gorse as the seasons changed around us. Your cigarettes no longer bloom green willow, but mayflower, rustling in the breeze. The menthol doesn’t burn my throat as I breathe it in, use my diaphragm as a trampoline to ricochet up my trachea. I bandage your wounds with azaleas, want to grow new hope in old sins, wash away the past and create new memories in the grooves of your ribs.

Some days I watch you dance. You move as though you were never stiffened by the thorn-apple that once locked your joints tight. As if you no longer carry the burden of what we did on your body, old wounds scarred over with white heather. An armour of sorts, holding you up so that you never fall the same way again. When you cough, there are no flowers. Your lungs are clear and happy and you tell me inhaling doesn’t taste like witch hazel anymore. The smile on your face is something I could look at for years. Within it, whole worlds could live and die and I’d be none the wiser.

I realise I am in love with the idea of loving you. It drips from my mouth like honey, sweet and sticky. It ensnares and encapsulates and every syllable you utter is trapped within. It feels like a warm summers day but smells like rat poison and I bite back the feeling of falling because I know that when I do it will hurt. Instead, I worship your body like a temple. We rebuild it from the ground up, new foundations to new roofing. The slate is clean and untouched. We wipe the blood from the walls, replace old brick with stone. A symbol of strength and unity. The only thing that grows is honeysuckle. Neither of us has it in us to worry.

All of the legends

Since I was eleven

All went to heaven

All of the legends

It’s been months. We lay in a field of sunflowers, the stalks high above our heads. My head is on your chest as we look at the clouds. I know if I felt around I could find the faint scars of wormwood by your hip, overflowing through the pale skin. I don’t dare check. Instead, we lay there calmly, relaxing in each other company. We laugh at the clouds and when the sun gets too hot, we sit beneath a peach tree and feed each other. I watch as the sweet juice, drips down your chin and as I laugh I feel the whispers of aloe catch in my throat. I cough it down and wipe the juice with the pad of my thumb, lingering for a second. We kiss and it burns in my stomach, reigniting the fire that you dampened back when you smoked something heavier and washed it down with whiskey.

When the night gets dark, I walk you home - to our home. We kiss on the doorstep like teens and I laugh as you cannot unlock the door. When I wake up the next morning, the room smells of sex and heliotrope. I ask if we can lay there forever, you just kiss my forehead and pull me closer. I bask in the warmth of your body, allow sleep to wash over me like waves, lapping at the shore. You bury your head in my hair and tell me that I smell like Pomegranate. It is only later that I remember my shampoo is apple.

I’ve been trying and I’ve been buying

And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying

The flowers come back. You cough up hibiscus as 3 am, the blood spattering the tiles of the bathroom and you wash the taste away with a Marlborough. ‘For old time sake,’ you tell me as if I don’t know what you’re doing. The marshmallow pink mixes with the red to create an unpleasant blush shade that mirrors your chest as you take deep drags. When you stub it out you make vague promises of not doing it again. I call your bluff and you laugh and tell me to ‘come here baby’. When I comply, we kiss and you taste like almonds and lost causes.

For a moment I could have sworn we were okay.

And that’s how I know

A single rainflower left at my doorstep. A quiet kiss on the cheek and you were gone.

That I don’t wanna go

Flower Dictionary:

Aloe - grief Ambrosia - reciprocated love Azalea - fragile, gratitude, take care Babies breath -innocence, purity Blue Rose - i love you but i can’t have you Cowslip - winning grace Daisies - innocence Eglantine Rose - a wound to heal Foxglove - insecurity Green Willow - false love Gladiolus - strength of character, honour, conviction Gorse - love in all seasons Heliotrope - devotion Hibiscus - delicate beauty Honeysuckle - bonds of love Ivy - faithfulness Lobelia - malevolence Marigold - pain and grief Orange Lily - hatred Orchid - refined beauty Peach - immortality Pomegranate - hell/ the underworld Pussy Willow - goodwill Rainflower - i love you back, i must atone for my sins, i will never forget you Red Dahlia - betrayal and dishonesty Sunflower - loyalty, longevity White Heather - protection

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #angst #kinda almost hanahaki #pinkgrapefruit #tw mentions of substance abuse #tw implied drug use #tw implied depression #tw self harm #tw implied toxic relationship #concrit welcome #submission

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sprnklersplashes · 6 years ago

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burning the memories

AO3

On a trip to visit her grandparents and Aunt Veronica in Ohio, Janis comes across her Aunt's high school memories and learns more about her than she thought she could. Veronica's past comes back to haunt her and she realises she can't outrun it unless she lets it go.

Words: 7k

(Set in a universe where Veronica is Janis’ aunt)

Janis is convinced her Aunt Veronica is the coolest person on the planet. From living on her own with her two cats in her New York apartment to being a kick ass social worker to somehow always knowing exactly what Janis wants every birthday and Christmas, there is no one like her. Her style still seems stuck in the 1980s; she’s almost always wearing a blue blazer and a skirt but she makes it work. She still turns heads and despite a few flings with men and women here and there, she doesn’t seem to want to commit to anyone. She just flies above it all, not caring about what anyone else has to say, stating simply that she ran out of fucks to give in 1989.

So of course, when her mom proposes that they go to his childhood home in Ohio during the summer to meet up with her and her grandparents, Janis has her suitcase half-packed. Aunt Veronica is the one thing that can make these reunion trips worth it. It’s worth the four hour drive in her dad’s car and people asking if she has a boyfriend yet and having that awkward conversation (how many times can people “forget” that she’s a lesbian?), casting eyes at the tips of her hair and her clothes and fake nails and heavy make-up, the rolling eyes and fake smiles when Janis tells them about her plans to study art. She has to fight the urge to flip them off until she can get home and vent everything to Veronica in private over coffee.

They get into her grandparents’ place first, with her grandma remarking how much she’s grown and asking about school and giving her cookies and her grandpa handing her a ten dollar bill and asking if she’s keeping her hair like that and mentioning how her outfit (graphic tee shirt, ripped black shorts, fishnet tights and an oversized blue shirt) is very creative.

“Creative is one word for it,” a voice says from behind the stairs. She turns and sees a thin, dark haired woman in a blue blazer and grey skinny jeans leaning on the banister, smirking.

“Aunt Veronica!” Janis laughs, running up for a hug.

“You got tall,” she remarks, throwing her arms around her and squeezing her tightly. “Though that might the boots.”

Within half an hour they’re all sitting around the kitchen table. It’s more cramped now than it probably was when her mom and Aunt Veronica were living there, but her grandpa insists on sitting on the armchair in the corner to make room.

“So Janis how’s school?” her grandma asks, pushing her pasta bake around on her plate.

“Fine,” she says. “I won a prize at this art expo.”

“Oh my god, Janis, that’s awesome!” Veronica says, nudging her with her elbow. “What was it?”

“It was this portrait I did of me and Damian and Cady,” she explains. “Cady’s new, she just joined this year.”

“She moved there from Kenya, right Jan?” her dad adds, refilling his glass of Coke. “Janis stepped in to help show her the ropes.”

“Well that was sweet of you,” her grandpa remarks from the chair.

“What brought her from Kenya to Illinois?” Veronica asks, snickering slightly.

“She said her parents were researcher zoologists until they lost their funding,” she explains. “But yeah, Cady’s pretty cool. I mean, she’s a little weird, but she’s awesome.”

“And… how is Damian?” her grandma asks, twirling her fork around, and Janis suppresses the urge to groan.

“Damian’s great, Grandma,” she says patiently. “He just started dating this boy from his drama club, so that’s great.” Beside her, she swears Veronica laughs before disguising it with a drink.

“And what about you, Janis? Any girls making your head turn?” she asks, looking over at her grandma.

Coolest. Woman. Alive.

“Not really,” she says, looking down at her plate. No girls had really caught her eye-except for the girl Damian took to calling ‘Danny DeVito girl’ after that one episode in the bathroom, but she knew her name was Gianna. Still, she barely sees her outside of history class.

“Oh, Ronnie, before I forget,” her grandma said. “We found a bunch of your old high school stuff in your old room. It was all boxed up, we didn’t know what you want done with it. It must have been left here when you moved out.”

“Oh, thanks,” Veronica says. “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.” She stays quiet for the rest of the meal, making small, three word comments on whatever comes up in conversation, even about her own job, which is weird, as well as supremely disappointing. There’s few things Janis loves more than hearing about how she took another kid off shithole parents, and Veronica loves talking about it. Still, she shakes off whatever was bothering her when the apple pie is rolled out, sliding second helpings onto Janis’ plate when no-one’s looking.

“You know,” Veronica says in a low voice while the rest of the adults are stuck in conversation about the traffic on the way up. “If you don’t have any plans this summer… maybe you could come up to New York for a bit?”

“Are you serious?” Janis asks, feeling her heart begin to pound.

“Sure,” she says. “I know there’s art galleries around where I live that you’d love, and I’d get some quality time with my favourite niece.”

“Your only niece,” she reminds her, but she can’t supress the smile on her face. If she were Cady, she’d probably start squealing. “Thank you, Aunt Veronica!”

“Let me talk it over with your parents first,” she reminds her, placing her hand over hers and draining her glass.

“You’re the coolest person here,” Janis says, and Veronica blushes, laughing. “When and how did you get to be so cool?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says, her voice quiet.

Janis leans on the doorframe of her Aunt Veronica’s old room, having snuck away from the brunch discussions of what their neighbours were growing in their garden. She knocks on the wood, holding a plate of French toast, fried eggs and bacon in one hand. Veronica looks up from the box sitting on her bed. The bed is covered with all sorts; photos, books, clothes, all from her aunt’s high school years.

“I come with gifts,” Janis says, waving the plate in front of her. “You wouldn’t want to miss Grandma’s French toast, would you?”

“Of course not,” she says, taking the plate from her with a grateful smile.

“Is it cool if I hang here?” Janis asks, sitting on the bed like the question was already answered. “I’ll go insane if I spend any more time down there.”

“Sure, kid,” she says, placing the plate on her nightstand and taking a piece of bacon in her hand. There’s something in her face, how her smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes, how her eyes look kind of… well, scared. “Feel free to check out the Westerburg High memorabilia.”

Janis picks up a pile of polaroids and starts looking through them.

“You know these are back in fashion now,” she remarks, waving the photos. “This girl… my friend Karen, she loves them.” It’s odd, referring to the Plastics as “friends” now that they’ve disbanded. She’ll never in her life refer to Regina as one, but Gretchen’s not too bad and Karen is actually kind of fun, in a lost kitten kind of way that makes Janis want to protect her for the rest of her life. “Is this you?” The girl in the photo has to be Veronica, same cheekbones and wild dark hair and brown eyes and cheesy, wide smile (Janis kind of feels like she’s looking in a mirror), but she looks way different. She’s wearing a long red dress and denim jacket, a far cry from what she wears now. She looks like she didn’t even look in the mirror before leaving the house.

“Yeah, that’s me. March 1989,” she reads. “I was a junior.” She chuckles under her breath. “God you’re the spitting image of me at that age. I think that was my best friend Martha’s 17th birthday.” She points at the other girl in the photo, dark haired with glasses and a pink sweatshirt. “Yeah, she was my best friend from diapers.”

“What’s she doing now?”

“Kindergarten teacher up here,” she says with a soft smile. “Martha loves Sherwood so much she couldn’t leave if she tried. We’re still close though.” Janis hums and continues looking through them, finding more photos of Veronica and her friend Martha, sitting at school, in the park, in what she guesses is Martha’s room, all while Veronica keeps looking through the other stuff.

Suddenly, she finds one in which her aunt seems to have done a complete metamorphosis. Gone is the frumpy, slightly too big clothes of the ones before, in this one she’s in a fitted blue blazer and grey miniskirt, her eyelids blue and lips red, standing in someone’s backyard with a croquet mallet on her shoulder with three other girls; a tall, blonde girl in a red blazer and shoulder pads, a bright red scrunchie in her hair and a smirk that echoes Regina George on her face, a smaller blonde girl in yellow whose hair is in curls and an Asian girl in green with her hair pinned back. They’re all wearing the same style of all-American preppy blazers and miniskirts, and all have croquet mallets matching the colour of their clothes. While they all stand in a cluster, Veronica distances herself slightly from them, but still leaning in and still smiling at the camera. Along the bottom, someone wrote ‘Heather, Heather, Heather and Veronica-September 12th, 1989’.

“Woah, Aunt V,” she remarks. “What happened in September 1989?”

“What?” Veronica asks hastily. She comes over and looks at the photo in Janis’ hands and her face turns red.

“Aunt V?”

“It’s fine,” she says, not clarifying what ‘it’ is. “For a while… I was friends with some popular girls.”

“You were a plastic?” she asks in disbelief. No way. She refuses to believe that Veronica was ever a Regina George.

“Plastic?” she repeats, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s what we called this trio of megabitches in my school,” Janis explains. “Gretchen, Karen, and Regina George at the centre of it all.”

“Oh, that bitch Regina,” Veronica says. When her life fell apart after the “space dyke” incident, it was Veronica who had sped like crazy down the freeway to Illinois and took her out for ice cream and movies until she could smile again. She had even offered to pay for her to go to a private school in New York when her parents pulled her out. She could never be a Regina George. “We called them the Heathers. There was Heather Duke…” She points at the green one. “Heather MacNamara…” The yellow one. “And… Heather Chandler.” Her finger lands on the red one. She takes in a deep breath.

“I take it Chandler was your Regina,” she says. “Why were they all called Heather?”

“Universe is weird like that,” she answers off handedly. She’s staring at the photo so intensely she might burn a hole through it.

“Aunt V… you okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” she says, shaking her head. “We weren’t friends for that long anyway. We were at this homecoming party and they wanted to do this really bitchy thing to my friend. So….” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “I puked on Chandler and told her to lick it up.”

“Oh my God!” Janis laughs. “You’re such a badass, Aunt V!” Veronica chuckles and shakes her head. She looks around at the stuff around her, two cardboard boxes worth of high school memories.

“I’m going to get some trash bags. At least half of this stuff I want to throw out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s just junk now,” she says. “Be right back.” She runs out the door, her footsteps fading as she went down the hall. Janis keeps flicking through the photos, mainly ones of her and the Heathers.

The she finds another one. Veronica, still in the “popular girl” look, sitting on a wall, staring up at the sky, laughing. Then the next one, a dark-haired, brown-eyed boy is on the wall with her. The camera is so close that he must be holding it. The old school selfie. His arm is around her and the other holds the camera. She rests her chin on his shoulder, her smile easy and open, her eyes sparkling. The boy is smiling too. The writing on the bottom reads “September 30th, 1989, Our Love Is God”. The next one is them cuddling, him standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her, kissing the back of her head while she laughs. Someone else must have taken it for them or they set it on a timer. “October 3rd, 1989, You’re in my heart like a Madonna on a pedestal.” And another one of Veronica standing against a brick wall, her hands flat against the wall and one foot leaning against it “October 10th, 1989, We love the things we love for what they are”. And another of the boy, who clearly doesn’t know he’s having his photo taken, drinking a red slushie. “October 15th, 1989, JD doesn’t know I’m taking a picture and still looks good”.

“Holy shit, Aunt V,” Janis mutters. Who knew she had a thing for bad boys? She flicks through more photos, all of her and Mysterious Trench Coat Kid (JD, she assumes), until she finds herself back at the start. She puts the pile down and keeps sorting through stuff, finding a yearbook and older class notebooks and a small, black book with 1989 written on the spine in gold lettering.

Holy shit. Her diary.

She looks over at the door and back at the book. She knows it’s wrong. She knows she shouldn’t look through her aunt’s private stuff. But then again, it’s from 1989, what could she have done as a teenager that she’s so scared of people finding out? And… Okay, she really just wants to know who the mysterious JD was.

“September 1st, 1989, Dear Diary,

I believe I’m a good person, you know I think that there’s good in everyone, but here we are, first day of senior year. And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and ask myself…. What happened?....”

“September 22nd, 1989, Dear Diary

It’s been three weeks since I became friends with the Heathers. Well, friends isn’t exactly the right word. It’s like the Heathers are people who I work with and our job is being popular and shit.”

“Still September 22nd, 1989, Dear Diary,

Why when you see boys fight does it look so horrible, but feel so right? I shouldn’t watch this crap, that’s not who I am, but with Mr No Name Kid here… damn.”

“October 2nd, 1989, Dear Diary,

JD’s dad will not be speaking at our wedding.”

Holy shit, she thinks. Wedding? She was planning a wedding already? Calm down there, Aunt Veronica. So JD. It had to have been a nickname. It suits the boy she sees in the photo-the rebellious bad boy apparently sweeping her off her feet. She imagines some sort of Bonnie and Clyde style love affair, or a Romeo and Juliet whirlwind where Veronica’s dad had been desperate to keep his squeaky clean girl away from the troublemaker?

She hears her footsteps in the hall and quickly closes the book, dropping it back in the box. Aunt Veronica comes back in with two trash bags in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.

“Sorry, got sidetracked by coffee, although I did bring you a cookie,” she says, handing her over one.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a bite out of it while Veronica starts tossing bits and pieces into one of the bags. “So… who’s JD?”

Something changes in her. Janis expected her to blush or laugh off the bad boy she seemingly had a little affair with as a teenager; instead the bag falls from her hand, her eyes look up at her, wide and fearful, her breathing gets faster, her face paler. She looks so much younger now, like the seventeen year old she saw in the photos.

“JD?” she repeats weakly. “Where… how did you hear about JD?”

“I found some pictures of you and him.” She slides her hands into her back pockets, regret pounding in her chest. Veronica picks up the photos and Janis can see them shaking in her hands. She feels like she opened up Pandora’s Box, unleashing all the terrors inside. Another terror sits heavily in her chest, fighting its way up her throat and out of her mouth almost against her will. She could never keep stuff from Veronica. “And… I may have peaked in your old diary.”

“My diary?” she asks sharply. “My 1989 diary? You looked in there?” Her voice gets more frantic and Janis gets more scared and even more guilty. She can feel her ‘favourite niece’ status slipping away.

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have looked in there!” she apologises. “I’m sorry, Aunt V.”

“What did you read in it?” she asks. If Janis didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she was scared. No, she is beyond scared. Terrified is a more accurate term. Veronica looks like she’s struggling to catch her breath, her fists curling and uncurling. “Janis I need to know; what did you read in it?”

“Nothing important,” she says. “Just… like the stuff about the people in your senior year and the Heathers were people you worked with and how JD’s dad wasn’t going to be speaking at your wedding!” She feels her lip begin to tremble and she swears to herself she won’t cry. “I’m sorry, Aunt Veronica, I know I shouldn’t have look in it.”

Veronica sighs and lowers herself on to the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s okay, Janis. I’m sorry I got so worked up.” She pulls Janis’ hand and gets to her sit down next to her. She lets out a breath and laughs slightly, running a hand through her hair. “JD was my boyfriend in senior year.”

“That much I gathered,” she jokes. “I mean…Our Love Is God isn’t something you’d say to your friends.”

“He said all kinds of stuff like that,” she tells her. She pulls her jacket tighter around herself, her eyes filling with tears. Janis puts an arm around her.

“It ended badly?” she asks softly. Veronica stays quiet, looking at her hands.

“He killed himself,” she whispers after a while.

“Shit,” Janis says. “Aunt Veronica, I’m so sorry.” Veronica threads her fingers in Janis’.

“Kid, it was nearly 30 years ago,” she says. “I’m not… I’m not over it but, I guess I moved on.” She reaches over with her free hand and takes the pile of photos, looking at the one of him and her at the 7/11. “And yeah… it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows when he was alive. His dad was an ass, for starters. He messed JD up pretty bad. And that’s…” She wipes tears away from her eyes and Janis’ heart breaks. She wishes she’d never looked at the damn photos. “I guess that’s why I try so hard now. Try to take kids off bad dads like that. Stop future JDs in their tracks.”

“Aunt V,” Janis protests. “You know it’s not your job to stop people, right? If people are bad, then they’re bad.”

“I know,” she says. “I just never stopped thinking what if his dad had been good? Or if someone had looked out for him.” Janis wants to shake her head and tell her that his problems don’t matter if he hurt her (and she can tell that he did) but she keeps her mouth shut. “I’m sorry for getting mad, Jan. And for unloading all of this on you.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m sorry I read your diary.” Veronica shakes her head and pulls her into a hug.

“You know, you’re the only one in this family who knows he was my boyfriend?” she asks. “My mom and dad thought that we were just friends and your mom was away at college while it was all going down.” Janis smiles, feeling small sense of pride amongst all her guilt. Sharing a secret with her aunt, even if it’s about her bad boy former flame. Though she does wonder how her grandparents missed the fact that they were more than friends.

She knows there’s more she’s not telling, and she’s more than okay with that. First things first, she knows she doesn’t want to know exactly what went down between them. She’s not sure she can stomach the details. And she knows that it’s probably better if Aunt Veronica keeps them to herself.

By Veronica’s count, it’s been twenty one years since her last JD related nightmare. Her and her partner Anna had just started getting serious, and Anna was staying over at her house. That night, while curled up next to her, Veronica had dreamed about Anna pounding on her closet door while she barricaded herself inside, telling her about after and destiny and how they were meant to be together, the words “meant to be yours” being repeated over and over again until the voice turned into something different. Into him.

She had woken up screaming and she broke up with Anna the next week.

Still, after that episode, she went twenty one years nightmare free.

Until she bolted up in bed at 2:30 am, muffling her scream with her hands, an old trick she learned in college, feeling her heart in a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She had dreamed about him blowing himself up again up again, except this time he was taking her down with him. She still feels her arms wrapped around him, the bomb digging into her chest, her fingers fisting in his coat as he tells her again “I worship you” and she just numbly nods, Heather Chandler pressing against her, whispering “see you in Hell, biotch” just before the bomb goes off and rips her to pieces.

After senior year, she had stashed everything into a box and hid it under a pile of other stuff in her room, hoping to never have to look at it again. She had almost forgotten about everything that was in there. It’s everything she wishes she could erase from her memory about her time in high school. Everything she regrets and misses the most.

She kicks the blankets off her, feeling suffocated by them, and looks at the bags of trash filled with all her high school memories. She had just wanted to get rid of all of it, clean the slate, to use JD’s turn of phrase, act like those months had never existed, but now she’s not so sure.

She gets up and opens one, looking at its contents from the lamp on her bedside table. She still can’t sleep in the dark, even now. Inside there’s her old notebooks and clothes that haven’t fit since she was a teenager and her old yearbook. She pulls out the yearbook, running her finger down the spine. She somehow opens it to the last page she wants to see; “In Memory Of Heather Chandler”. Heather’s photo beams out from the middle of the double page, all red lipstick and blonde curls. Words from students crowd around it “Always In Our Hearts”, “Rest In Power Heather”, “Drinking Rum and Coke With The Angels” (because there’s plenty of that in Heaven), “I’m Sorry I Didn’t Know” “You Deserved Better” (well maybe that’s not an unfair statement). And pride of place, close as possible to her picture “Best Friends Forever-Heather M” and “Miss You Forever-Heather D”.

She turns the page and finds Kurt and Ram’s memorial page, adorned with rainbows. She bites her lip as tears well in her eyes. More messages from the students are scattered around the page, promises to make the world a better place, to stamp out bigotry and prejudice. Apparently their dads did that until the day they died.

When she turns the page, there’s one more memorial page; Jason Dean. It’s blindingly different from the other two. One picture of him in the middle, God knows where they got it because it wasn’t taken at school. A little blurb explaining how he came into the school in September and died in November during the pep rally. The official explanation was that he had killed himself during the rally by blowing himself up in the football field.

Veronica had forged a pretty great note for it.

Hardly anyone had any words to say about him, though a couple of well-intentioned kids on the yearbook committee added some. “I Wish I’d Known Him” (trust me, she had thought when she first read it, you don’t), “Rest In Peace, Jason”, “Your Time With Us Was Short But Wonderful”. In the corner, there’s her handwriting, “I wish you’d stayed around a little longer”, then scribbled out so violently the page tore. She wishes a lot of things, but not that he had stayed around. Not in the way he was anyway.

She puts the yearbook aside and keeps looking through it, finding an old videotape. No title, except a white label with “Halloween, 1989” written in her handwriting. She wracks her brain for what happened then, and she draws a blank. Thankfully, her old TV and video player are still in her room, so she pulls them both onto the floor with her and slides it in, turning the volume low enough so that only she can hear it.

The picture comes into view and it’s her, wearing a long sleeved black minidress and tights and a pair of cat ears, raising her eyebrows and laughing, putting candy into a large orange bowl decorated with black cats and spiderwebs.

“Are you filming this right now?” the 1989 version of her asks.

“Yeah of course,” JD replies, taking a step closer. “Look at this folks, pure Halloween commitment right here.” The camera zooms in on her dress, on her cat ears, the whiskers drawn onto her unimpressed face with eyeliner.

Her heart stops at the sound of his voice. He sounds so different to what she remembers. His voice is higher, softer. He doesn’t sound like he does in her nightmares. He doesn’t sound like the kind of person who would storm into her room, tell her he wanted to kill her, tell her he was blowing up the school. He doesn’t sound broken or damaged. He sounds normal, happy, relaxed and it cuts her deep.

“Oh, okay,” the younger version of her says. “Now, look at this.” The picture shakes as the past version of her tries to take the camera off him while he makes tiny noises of protest. “No, give it, give me the camera.” Her voice is high pitched and nearly whiny, but she’s laughing, the same loud, dumb laugh she always used as a teenager. She used to complain to him about it and he assured her he loved the sound of her laugh.

“Or what?” he replies.

“Or you don’t get candy,” she teases.

A different fight plays out in the back of her mind, when they fought over something much more sinister. The two teenagers in the video didn’t deserve that. They didn’t know how it would all play out. The girl didn’t know the monster she was creating. The boy didn’t know just how broken he really was.

The younger Veronica wrestles the camera off JD with a triumphant laugh and turns it on him, snickering.

Her breath catches at the sight of him. He’s just like he is in the photos, except he’s moving. He’s more alive, laughing and twirling to show off his full costume. He’s even discarded his trench coat, she can see it sitting on the couch behind him, instead wearing a puffy white shirt and leather pants and an eye patch of all things.

“He’s a sexy pirate,” past her sings, zooming in on him. He leans against the wall dramatically and pouts at her, making her laugh.

“I’m a regular pirate,” he corrects her. “I just happen to always be sexy.” She laughs again, the camera tilting slightly like she’s leaning back.

“Yeah you are,” she agrees. The camera is place on the counter and she goes over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. He wraps his arms around her, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. She moans as he pulls her closer, getting rid of whatever space there was between them. Her hands get caught up in his hair while his trail on her legs, but never lifting her skirt.

It always got heated between them. Simple goodbye kisses turning into him letting her push him up against the wall and tongues and teeth clashing while hands were running along waistlines and through hair. He always let her take the lead, set her pace, be in control. It used to make her feel empowered. Having him underneath her, being willing to do anything she wanted, to obey her wishes. She never took it too far, asked if he was okay with it too, and he always was, looking at her with wide eyes and nodding enthusiastically.

She wonders now how much of it was real and how much was just him letting her get comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to be clay in his hands. It’s all so confusing to her know, love or infatuation, how much of her memories are viewed through the rose coloured lens she uses to make it hurt less, was he broken and damaged or just bad?

“Okay,” the younger Veronica breaks away, sounding breathless. “Movie time.” JD joins their hands as she lifts the bowl from the counter. Her eyes fall on the camera and realisation dawns on her. “Shit!”

“What?”

“We left the camera on,” she laughs, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh we filmed that!”

“Oh my God,” he replies, laughing too. “Oh my God we filmed that. We filmed us making out.”

“Do not even talk about that,” she laughs.

“It’s your camera, right?” he asks as he wraps his arms around her. “So your parents will never see it?”

“They might!” she squeaks, wriggling out of his arms. “Okay, go get the popcorn started, I’m going to turn this off.”

Her face fills the camera as she lifts it, still laughing. Still young. Not too many scars.

“Sex tape!” JD whispers in the background, and she laughs harder.

“JD I swear to God-”

The picture changes and they’re in her living room. JD holds the camera, tilted at an angle so a sleeping Veronica is visible, curled up and using JD as a pillow. He’s smiling, open, earnest. His arm is around her and he kissed her forehead gently. She murmurs and snuggles closer to him. The way he looks at her can only really be described as reverence. Like she’s the Virgin Mary and he’s the most devout follower there is.

“Hello, person who is watching this tape,” he whispers. “Probably in the year 2127, when we’re all dead. You might notice this, but Veronica Sawyer is currently asleep on top of me. It is 1am here in Sherwood, Ohio and she fell asleep on my shoulder.” He runs his fingertips up and down her back, losing himself in thought for a moment. “If you’re in the future you probably never got to know her. Which is sad for you, really, because she’s the best damn thing humanity has to offer. And nothing that comes after her will really compare. And I am in love with her. I will love her until I die and even after that, I’m going to keep loving her.” Veronica shifts in her sleep and JD looks worried for a moment, but she just stretches her arm across his chest and settles down again. His face breaks out into a smile once more. “She’s the only thing that’s good in this world. I’m going to turn the camera off now so I don’t wake her up.”

The picture turns to black and he’s gone.

Veronica presses her hands to her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying.

This shouldn’t be happening. This was nearly 30 years ago. While she couldn’t get help with everything, she got counselling after JD’s death. She shouldn’t be sitting on the floor of her childhood bedroom, trying not to cry over a 29 year old video. She shouldn’t be falling back in love with a dead man, let alone a dead man who made her life hell for years and is the reason she flinches away from love even now, a man who was terrible and wanted to kill people and she shouldn’t even be thinking about because he’s been dead for nearly 30 years.

She’s reopened all her old wounds. All it took was one look from him and she’s back where she began.

Stupid heart. Holding onto someone who shouldn’t be allowed in there anymore. She used to think it would be better if she could just rip it out and stop herself from feeling anything again. But then she met people and made friends and reconnected with old ones and then Janis was born and took her heart in her tiny little baby hands. She would never stop herself from feeling all that. Even if it means she has to feel all of this too, the ugly and painful side of loving someone.

She keeps crying as she looks through the rest of the bag, Her fingers brush against something hard and she tenses. Her diary.

She kicks herself for keeping it. Putting aside every painful thing she put in here, it’s evidence. When Janis said that she’d gone through it, her heart had stopped and she had felt the world around her crumble. She only got as far as her first meeting with JD’s dad. But just one page later she wrote “Dear Diary…. Technically I didn’t kill Heather Chandler, I know that, but I still feel bad. But not as bad as I should. And that makes me feel even worse.” And then just two pages after that is the amazing line “Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count”.

The most incriminating lines she could have written.

Janis thinks she’s the coolest person alive. Wonder how she’d feel about her after knowing that she’d murdered three people.

“Not you,” JD had told her. She supposes he’s right. But she doesn’t like saying that she was just an unwilling accomplice. She handed Heather Chandler the mug of drain cleaner, she shot at Kurt, she let JD shoot Ram. She fell for the “Ich Luge bullets” lie. Their blood is on her hands just as much as it was his. She doesn’t know if she believes in Heaven or Hell any more, but she knows that if there is a Hell, then she’ll burn for that.

And besides, in the mortal world, accomplices still do jail time.

She knows what she has to do. She’s just far too scared to do it.

It’s still pitch black outside when she sneaks out of the house, key in the pocket of the coat she wears over her pyjamas. She keeps the diary clutched to her chest as she makes her way down her old street to the one place she’s sure no one will suspect her of going.

Westerburg High stands just as imposing as it ever did before her, locked behind an iron fence. She started her senior year desperate to leave it then two months later she was risking everything to save it.

And where was her damn gratitude?

After the news broke about JD, things changed for her. People gave her sad eyes as they passed in the hallway, whispers of “I’m so sorry” and “if you need anything, I’m here” and teachers offering support and then the newspaper offering her an interview.

Still, she finally saw the hierarchy fall. Heather Mac started eating lunch with her and Martha and, seeing that she can’t exactly lead a clique of one person, so did Heather Duke, eventually. Heathers and Marthas sitting at a table together. Heaven on Earth. Checkmate, JD. MacNamara and Martha even dated until their second year of college. People stopped hating each other and it became beautiful.

Janis says that the same thing happened in her school. Her little jungle friend Cady broke the dance queen’s crown and shared it and told everyone they were beautiful. Now she’s braiding the former popular girl’s hair like it’s nothing. Everyone sits where they want and there’s no cliques or rumours or stupid bitchy girl fights. No one is afraid, all because one cute little mathlete made a speech. And yet for her school to get to that same kind of peace, she had to steal a scrunchie and four people had to die.

Outside the school fence, she finds an empty trash can, just like she hoped she would. She takes a look around the deserted street. No one’s around to see her. She’s completely alone and yet she still feels like all eyes are on her. Street lights glare down on her like an interrogation and she feels eyes on her back, even though she doesn’t see anyone when she turns around. She flips up the hood of her jacket, pulling it over her face.

She pulls the diary out of her pocket and drops it in the empty trash can, flinching at the sound it makes. It must be louder in her mind. Her shaking hand lifts out the matches. It takes longer than she would have liked to get them to light; her hands are trembling so badly she drops a few before she can get them to the matchbook, and others she can’t seem to strike hard enough.

The ground is littered with matches rolling in the light breeze when she finally gets one to work properly. The flame dances in front of her eyes, bright against the darkness of everything that surrounds her. She looks down at the diary, lying dead, almost invisible at the bottom of the trash can. It has every good memory of her time with JD, every time he made her laugh, every time he made her smile, details about what she felt when he kissed her. But it also has evidence and that’s a risk she can’t afford to take.

She lets the match fall from her hand and set the book ablaze.

“No!” she yells immediately after watching it start to burn. She presses her hands to her mouth because she knows that if she doesn’t do something she’ll reach in and try to grab it out.

She feels like she’s burning him. Like she’s seventeen again and back on the football field watching him explode, feeling her heart get torn apart while her soul and conscience are knitted back together. Simultaneously finding it hard to breathe and being able to for the first time in weeks. Saying goodbye to the worst and best thing to happen to her. She's burning every good memory she had of him and wonders if she'll forget if she doesn't have it to look back on. Does she even want to remember it now? Maybe she shouldn't, but she does. She wants to remember the good but also the bad. The bad reminds her why she keeps going and keeps fighting now.

She stays watching it, silently sobbing until the fire burns out and it’s nothing more but a pile of ash at the bottom.

Her clock reads 3:45am when she gets back into her room, climbing in through her window, nearly falling over the empty trash bag. As quietly as she can, she moves her TV back to where it was and takes the video out of it. She kneels next to the trashbag and fishes out the pack of photos. She had wanted to get rid of them, act like that year never happened. But she’s never going to forget him, no matter what she does. He’s burned into her mind whether she likes it or not.

She places the photos and videotape on her shelf and reties the bag. Maybe if that’s all she has of him, she can pretend he was something else.

After waking up at 11 the next morning and missing breakfast, Veronica decides to take Janis out for pancakes and coffee in town.

“Late night, Aunt V?” she asks, watching Veronica down another coffee.

“Yeah,” she admits, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She predicts she’ll crash out at 9pm at the latest tonight. “Just… looking through some old stuff. Kept me up.”

“Some old high school stuff?” Janis asks quietly, her shoulders hunching. She looks small and it doesn’t suit her. Ever since Janis could walk she’s been unapologetic about how loud she is and how much space she takes up. Even though the Regina incident knocked her down, all she did the next year was come back louder and bigger. She doesn’t look at Veronica, keeping her eyes on her half-constructed pancake house.

“Yeah,” she says. “I found some more stuff of when I was with JD.”

“Aunt Veronica, I’m really sorry,” she says. “That I brought him up. I know he can’t be easy to talk about.”

“Jan, it’s okay,” she assures her. “I’m actually, weirdly kind of glad you did. I just sort of needed that kind of release, I guess. I needed to remember him.” Janis nods, but the confusion is visible on her face. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you going to be okay?” she asks. Veronica smiles and takes her hand.

“I’ve been okay for the past 29 years, Jan,” she explains. “And besides, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you. You’re the kid here.”

“I’m seventeen,” Janis corrects her. Veronica nods. Seventeen’s a fun age. She felt so grown up when it started and then everything happened and all she needed was someone to hold her.

“That’s not as old as you think it is,” she tells her. “Go be seventeen. Go do dumb stuff and don’t worry about me. Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time for all that later.”

“How do you know all that stuff?” she asks. “How do you know what to say?”

“Easy,” she answers, taking another sip of her coffee. “I just say what I wish adults had said to me at that age.”

#veronica sawyer #heathers the musical #janis sarkisian #mean girls broadway #not sure why im putting this here but its here now #fanfic #character study #i guess?#barrett made me do it #long post for ts

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rockrevoltmagazine · 5 years ago

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Interview: Heather Hellskiss of The Damed

The Damed are a powerful three piece punk outfit out of Hollywood. They are currently tearing up the Los Angeles club scene promoting their debut self-titled album and upcoming videos. Here is Heather Hellskiss vocalist for The Damed.

Who are the members of The Damed, what do they do in the band, and how did they get there?

On guitar and lead vocals is me, Hellskiss, Watts on drums and Suze on bass and sings backup vox. I started the band and have been playing with Watts for a long time and we have a strong musical rapport and really trust each other. This is my first project with Suze and we share the same political views and like a lot of the same bands. We all just vibe off each other very well and also share a silly sense of humor.

The Damed is a fairly new band but you’re already getting some traction. Do you think that it’s solely based on the solidness of your new album or are their other creative factors in play?

The album says a lot of things both musically and lyrically. And we do not hold back. There is time spent getting the right guitar sounds/fxs and we really tried to capture our rawness on this album. We are not one specific genre and I think that keeps things interesting.

For people who haven’t heard your music before can you describe the songs of The Damed?

Intense, gritty, melodic, bittersweet.

Your debut release is a very political, but yet personal album, why did you go that route and what are some of the stories behind the songs?

Personal is the only way I know how to be. Songwriting is a release, so I write about what impacts me in my life. ‘Equal Pay Day’ is about the gender pay gap. ‘Extreme Vacancy’ is about how we interact in this internet age and ‘We Are the Proof’ address the #MeToo movement.

Is there a balance when recording of being too rushed versus being given too much time and what is that balance?

It can be a tough balance. But if you don’t have a lot of money you don’t have the luxury of being given too much time. So, you have to crank it out in a few days. It’s very punk rock, haha.

When writing, do you start with a rhythmic, melodic or lyrical idea? Please give an example of a specific song’s first spark of an idea and how it was developed into an entire song from there.

Usually melodic. In Little Ship I liked the juxtaposition of these 2 guitar riffs I was working on and smashed them together into 1 song. It felt like rocky waters. It created a visual of a ship and definitely the music alone tells the story of a rocky relationship.

Do you have any particular song off the new album that you enjoy playing live the most?

Escape from The Shadows is a real erratic noisy song where we just go off and get crazy on stage. I like that there are no rules and we are just being uninhibited.

What other types of punk (horror, skate, pop) do you enjoy listening to and will you ever venture into those sub-genres?

Post-punk and no-wave mainly. We already starting incorporated some elements of no-wave into a new song and definitely want to maintain our post-punk flavor.

Have any members of The Damed had professional musical training or are you all self-taught? If you’re self-taught how did you keep yourself disciplined through the years to elevate your skill level?

I took piano lessons when I was pretty young and have taken some guitar lessons, but I am mainly self-taught. Feel is more important to me than skill. The need to write/play kept me disciplined. Also, I tried to learn guitar solos I would never play in my own music to improve my skill and also help me think outside of my box.

So how does your own music influence you as a person and does it help you through your day-to-day life?

It definitely gets me thru my day-to-day life because I emote through music and these songs represent my beliefs and states of mind.

If you could pick a song that you wish you wrote what would it be?

“Don’t Stop Believin'” is the first song that popped into my head. “Bizarre Love Triangle” was the second song.

How do you physically and mentally prepare for a performance?

I usually go thru the set on my acoustic guitar to warm up, take it easy if possible, no big meals/dairy (not good for singing) and just prepare for the show like writing out the set list, packing up my gear and things like that.

What are the goals for The Damed for the rest of 2019 and beyond?

We are working on some music videos, a small west coast tour, new songs, record our 2nd release and hopefully make some sort of impact on society.

Is there anyone you would like to give special thanks to for helping you out in life and music?

My partner Melissa for being so supportive of our music and reminding me of my strengths when I am not feeling them.

Anything you would like to add?

I can’t believe we can’t teleport by now.

https://thedamedband.bandcamp.com/releases

Interview: Heather Hellskiss of The Damed was originally published on RockRevolt Mag

#2019 #Heather Hellskiss #music #music magazine #punk #rock #rock magazine #Rock Revolt #Rock Revolt Magazine #RockRevolt #RockRevolt Magazine #Suzanne Slade #The Damed #Watts Yoshizawa

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southside-vixen · 6 years ago

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Fire and Ice (Sweet Pea) 2

Chapter 2. Unwelcoming Committee

AO3

Adrianna Rivera has just made a difficult move from Arizona to the southside of Riverdale. With the history of her life in Phoenix behind her will she be able to find a new family in the Southside Serpents? Or will a certain tall, dark, and rage inducing Serpent cause issues?

“Okay so that’s the ins and outs of draught beer pouring” Toni put her hands on her hips “Tall Boy wants a Budweiser, let’s see what you got.”

It was Adria’s first day working at the White Wyrm. And it sucked. She followed Toni’s directions and titled the glass as she pulled the lever and poured in the beer.

“That….is half head. You need to angle it so you get more beer and less foam.”

“This is stupid. I shouldn’t even be here.” Adria groaned and leaned up against the bar

“Listen.” Toni lined herself up to Adria “I get you think this is beneath you and you’ve never worked a day in your life. But you’re a Southsider now, designer jeans or not. So get used to it.” She backed up a few steps to give Adria some room “Now try again. You need to get it this time. We don’t have the money to waste on shit pours.”

“Jesus fucking Christ this should not be this difficult” Adria groaned as she stared at another glass half full of foam.

“There she is” She looked up to see Ness walking to the bar with a big smile on her face “How did she hold up, Toni?”

“Well.” Toni sighed “She’s a shit bartender but we’ll have her up to snuff in a couple weeks. As far as school goes she sticks out but she’ll be a Southsider in no time”

“Well, she’s not dead so I do have to thank you for that” Ness raised her pint and took a large swig.

“Also day 1 and she’s already putting Sweet Pea in his place” Toni smirked

“What?” Ness put her drink down “Adria come on. The boy’s got some serious anger issues. The last thing I need is him snapping and you ending up with permanent brain damage.”

“Wow. That’s some exaggeration” Adria replied “You seriously think he’s going to hit me? A girl half his size in the middle of a high school cafeteria? I bet that’d make him look real tough.” She had never been in a fight in her life though. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to start now.

“Just…don’t push him too far.” Ness resigned herself to the fact that there was no way in hell her niece was going to listen to her “if your case worker finds out you’re getting into fights it’s only going to make things difficult”

“I’ve got this. No physical fights, scouts honor.” Adria smiled

“I’ll take what I can get” Ness took another sip of her beer “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to take a look at the end of the month books. Keep up the good work Toni”

“No physical fights, huh?” Toni smiled after Ness was sufficiently out of sight

“Tearing people down with words is an Adrianna Rivera Specialty.”

“It’s like you walked out of Mean Girls. Or Heathers”

“Toni. I have no idea what Heathers is. But I’m definitely a Regina.” Adria flipped her hair trying to give her best impression

“You don’t know Heathers” Toni feigned surprise “I’m not surprised honestly, but it’s the OG Mean Girls. Except with more murder. That’s it, you’ve been conscripted to join in a movie night.”

---------------------------------------------------

By the time the weekend came around Ness was going crazy making sure everything was perfect for a movie night. The usual takeout boxes and newspapers covering the table were wiped clear, and the counter tops were stacked with snacks she bought the day before.

“Okay girls, there are plenty of snacks and pizza is on its way. If you need anything just give me a call, I’ll be out the majority of the night making sure the Wrym doesn’t catch fire”

“Bye Ness!” Both Toni and Adria shouted in unison.

It was maybe 10 minutes after the pizza arrived that there was another knock on the door

“Expecting anyone else?” Toni asked

“No. Ness shouldn’t be back for hours.”

Toni pulled a switch blade out of her purse and slowly moved to the door. “Stay behind me” she whispered.

‘Seriously?’ Adria mouthed as Toni swung up open the door, her knife going inches away from the stomach of the person on the other side.

“Fangs!” Toni shouted putting her knife down “What the fuck?”

“Woah, woah” Fangs was laughing while putting his hands up in the air “Nessie invited me! She promised pizza and snacks, you know I’m a sucker for free food. And I am your next door neighbor, Adria. I’m offended I wasn’t invited in the first place”

“Don’t let Ness hear you call her that or she’ll kill you before I get the chance. Get your ass in here.” Toni shut the door behind him.

“So when do we get started? Are we gonna talk about boys? Play some truth or dare, maybe some never have I ever? Topless pillow fight or two?” Fangs sat down at the table and grabbed a slice of pizza “You know. Typical girl’s sleep over stuff”

“Not even in your dreams, Fangs.” Adria rolled her eyes “So are we gonna watch this movie or what?”

“Are we not inviting Sweet Pea? I thought he was a staple?”

Adria glared at Fangs while he sorted through the pile of snacks on the counter, taking a bite of his slice. She was outside her comfort zone already trying to be friends with Toni, then Fangs showing up threw her for another loop. The last thing she needed was the tall, angry one glaring at her while she tried to watch cheesy 80’s movies.

“I think its best it’s just the three of us tonight. Let Adria ease into Southside life” Toni shot a reassuring smile at her “Besides Fangs, we’re going to have enough problems trying to get food before you eat all of it. If we bring Sweet Pea here Adria and I will starve.”

“Fine. Fine.” Fangs conceded “But I’m telling him we had a threesome.”

“You absolutely are not.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fangs must have left around 2 or 3 am and Toni decided to stay for the night. Overall her first movie night/sleepover had gone well. Toni was really trying to connect with her, despite how awful she had been the first couple days after they met.

Adria stared up at the ceiling and stretched out her arms, only to immediately hit something solid

“Fuuuuck.” She must have jumped a foot in the air as she looked to her side to see Toni clutching her eye. Right, they had shared the same tiny twin size bed last night. It was a feat that they both fit.

“Jesus, I’m never sharing a bed with you again. You nearly pushed me off 4 times last night and now I probably have a black eye. “Toni sat up and ran her hands through her hair to remove the tangles

“This bed is barely big enough for me. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to share.” Adria grumbled. She got out of bed and ran a brush through her hair, tousling it in the mirror until she was satisfied “Up until a week ago I had a king size. I’d give anything for my beautiful memory foam mattress and my down pillows.” She must have looked like she had stars in her eyes

“Ah, yes. Rich girl luxury.” Toni laughed “How the mighty have fallen, now she sleeps on a hand me down twin mattress like the rest of us.” Adria made a face at her while she rummaged through her overstuffed closet. The weather was starting to get a chill and she had next to nothing to deal with it. In another couple of months there would be snow. She shuddered at the thought.

“So I text Fangs last night after he left and he agreed that we should all head over to Pop’s for brunch” Toni walked over to the closet as well “I didn’t bring a change of clothes so I’m stealing some of yours. Welcome to friendship with Toni”

“Pop’s?” Adria asked “That’s the diner, right? If so I’m down. I could use some breakfast”

“Great!” Toni smiled, pulling a shirt out of the closet “I’m borrowing this one.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Is it too early for a strawberry milkshake?” Adria asked eyeing over the menu as Toni sat across from her

“Ads. It’s 12:30. Even if you wanted a milkshake at 7AM I’d tell you to go for it.” Toni hadn’t even bothered to look at a menu, she never strayed too far from her regular.

“Did you just call me Ads?” She raised an eyebrow and put down her menu

“Adria is too long, plus I feel like Ads has a more Southside feel to it. It’s your new edgy, bad girl persona.” Toni could hardly contain her laughter

“I’ve never been edgy in my life.” She looked down at the outfit picked out for the day. She didn’t look like a Southsider at all. She didn’t even know if she wanted to be one of them. Hopefully soon her father’s legal team would sort out his release and she’d be home in Phoenix, ready for her next jet set to Rodeo Drive.

Toni lifted up her head as the doorbell rang and waved someone over. Adria looked up as well to see Fangs walk in, followed by Sweet Pea.

“What did you do?” She whispered harshly

“Hey guys!” Toni waved them over “Have a seat!” she flashed Adria a quick smile.

Adria looked back at the door to notice Fangs speed walking toward the booth, and then sliding in next to Toni. Adria felt a wave of dread crash into her as she looked up to see Sweet Pea standing over her.

“Are you going to move over or what?” he asked, his voice completely deadpan. She quietly moved over to the window and attempted to stare down Toni, who would only smile in return. After the waitress came and took orders the table was overtaken by silence. Adria stared at the table, stacking creamers then knocking them over, re-stacking them again.

“So…” Fangs tried to break the ice “How are you liking Riverdale so far, Adria?”

“Its…good.” She kept her eyes on the construction of her creamer tower. She could hear Sweet Pea scoff next to her and tried her best to ignore it.

“Think you’re gonna join the serpents? You’re an honorary member already considering your aunt and all. We could go through initiation together.” Fangs was all smiles this morning, it was almost like he completely forgot the tense atmosphere at the table. Or he was deliberately ignoring it.

“You just want to see her dance.” Toni threw a sugar packet at him

“Dance? You have to dance to join a gang?” Adria lifted her head up from her makeshift tower to look at Toni

“What does it matter? You honestly think princess here could be a Serpent?” Sweet Pea spoke up, not even sparing a glance in her direction

“You think I can’t?” Adria turned so she was facing him, her back up against the wall so she didn’t have to be any closer than necessary “I’m tougher than I look”

“Yeah? Ever been in a fight?” He angled himself to hover over her, his height was imposing on its own but the lack of light in his eyes made it worse. “You’d be the weakest link we have. You can’t handle it”

Adria was done shrinking down in her seat, back against the wall. She sat up straight, as tall as she could, which was still considerably shorter than Sweet Pea

“I’m anything but weak” her eyes were serious as well, burning with resolve. She didn’t know why she felt the need to prove herself. She shouldn’t be here long, and in the grand scheme of things the opinion of one hot headed gang member shouldn’t matter. But she wanted to belong to something, just as she always had. Maybe she needed to adapt.

“Prove it.” His face was so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. The exchange was far too intimate for her liking, but she wasn’t one to back down from a glaring match. Each second felt like an hour passed, until Toni finally broke it up.

“Pea, that’s enough. We’re here to have breakfast.”

Adria and Sweet Pea both took their eyes off each other and moved back to their respective sides of the booth. The rest of breakfast was silent, the tension somehow getting 10x worse. Adria stared out the window, picking at her food while Fangs and Toni were both on their phones. Sweet Pea, however, finished his meal as fast as he could before he slammed money down on the table and stormed out.

“That went well…All things considered.” Fangs said after he left

“Are you serious? That went well?” Adria put down her fork and stared at him “The only way that could have gone worse is if one of us stabbed the other. What’s his issue with me?”

“He’s hated the Northside for a long time. They blame us for all their problems and generally just shit on us. I don’t quite understand why he has an issue with you since you’re from out of town.” Toni sighed “But one thing does need to be said, Ads. You can’t just join the Serpents to prove a point. If you join it needs to be for the right reasons.”

Adria let her head rest against the window. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?

#swet pea #fireandice #riverdale #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x oc #fanfic

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brightingales · 6 years ago

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Velvet (1.9k words) Pairing: James Nightingale/Harry Thompson Rated: T Tags: Opera, Domestic fluff

Read on AO3 here

For @itsacruelirony and to celebrate hitting a milestone of followers! Hello lovely people!

49. “I don’t want to screw this up”.

Harry takes a deep breath once more. He clenches his fists to try and stop his hands from shaking. Shrugging his shoulders up to his ears and then forcing them back down a few times helps to release some of the tensions there, but he’s still completely wound up. Five minutes ago, he was trembling with nerves. There were butterflies in his stomach and sweat on the back on his neck. But it was a weirdly pleasant sensation – the sort that can only come from knowing that his nerves were born from a place of anticipation, rather than fear. Now, his mood has completely soured. The quaking of his hands is entirely due to frustration. He only has to do one simple task and yet he can’t even manage that. He feels like a failure, a disappointment.

Harry checks his reflection in the mirror he’s been stood in front of as he slowly loses his mind. A month ago, he wouldn’t have recognized himself. The changes to his appearance are subtle. A new haircut makes him look older and more distinguished. He’s finally discovered moisturising and the tan from his trip away still hasn’t faded. But the changes are more than skin deep. He carries himself better now, his posture no longer stooped with the weight of the world on his shoulders. There is a confidence that seems to radiate out of him from within. The changes in him are clear to see. Even his family has commented on it.

It’s a cliché, but he really has blossomed under James’s love.

So why is it that he can’t do this one simple thing to try and repay James for everything he has done for him?

The tickets came first. James has never been quiet about his love for opera, and Harry has always felt a bit guilty about their abandoned date all those months ago. Harry wanted to do more than just pick the first performance that was near enough to get to. So, he had spent a few evenings researching and planning – picking an opera company that has an excellent reputation as well as a diverse programme and tickets he can actually afford and settled on a performance of Un Ballo in Maschera by the Welsh National Opera a few cities over. It sounds like it will be fun and even if Harry doesn’t like it he knows that James will love having the chance to show off how much he knows about the music and the costumes and the historical setting of the story. Harry can spend a whole evening just sitting and watching and listening to James, so he is sure he’ll be well entertained even if he doesn’t like the music.

And, there will always be time to enjoy himself after in the gorgeous hotel suite he has picked for them. The double bed and whirlpool bath promise to be luxurious and relaxing. If relaxing is what they have in mind – Harry has packed some “extras” just in case he and James decide to use the bed for something other than sleeping on.

He’s bought himself some new outfits for their trip. Looking at his and James’s clothes side-by-side in their wardrobe every morning has really emphasised to him that he can’t keep dressing like a sixteen-year-old. Well, he can if he wants to – James has always made it clear that he won’t force his lifestyle onto Harry – but something within him wants to dress the way he feels inside now. Older. More sophisticated. Like a man, instead of a boy. A few hints dropped into various conversations and Harry has a good idea of the sort of things that James would like to see him in. Now the clothes that hang pride-of-place next to James’s look like they belong there as much as Harry belongs by James’s side.

The pièce de résistance (as James would put it) is something that James has unwittingly picked out for Harry. It had been a Sunday morning and James had been flicking through the magazine that came with the paper when Harry had caught him staring intensely at a photograph of a model dressed up in a tuxedo.

“Should I be worried?” Harry had asked, peering over James’s shoulder when he noticed that James had stopped flicking through the pages.

“Oh? No, my darling,” James had replied clearly thinking that Harry was jealous over the model that had captured James’s attention. “There’s no way on earth he even comes close to comparing to you. It’s the suit that caught my eye. I wouldn’t have thought this jacket with the tux would work together, but I think they look surprisingly good. What do you think?”

Those four words are the best things Harry has ever heard in his life and he always cherishes every moment James says them.

He took the magazine from James to give the photograph the same attention that James had. The tux in question looked to Harry to be completely normal. That is, of course, except for the suit jacket. It was a gorgeous heathered green in a fabric that looked soft and sheen, just like velvet.

“I think it’s gorgeous,” Harry admitted. “It’s a bit different from your other suits though. Do you have anything that would go with a jacket like this?”

“Oh no, I could never pull off velvet, not at my age,” James had said, and before Harry could remind him that he is not that old James had continued. “It wasn’t me I was thinking of wearing it; it was you. I think it would look just wonderful with your colouring. It would make your eyes even more bright than they usually are.”

Harry knew he was blushing at the revelation that James had seen something and immediately started thinking about how it would look on Harry. He couldn’t help but wonder at how he had become so firmly placed at the centre of James’s world.

“Hmmm,” Harry had replied. “I suppose it would look nice on me. But do you know what I look even better in…?”

Harry put the magazine down and reached over to brush his hands against the back of James’s neck, using the muscles there as leverage to help him climb into his lover’s lap.

James chuckled, “I think I could take a guess…”

Once they had finally got their breath back and James had slunk away to shower Harry had immediately fired up his laptop and set about trying to find the jacket. He winced when he saw the price, but if the thought alone could make James react like that, with his eyes blown wide with lust and his mouth open and red with hunger, then it was definitely going to be worth it when he saw Harry in the real thing.

Which has led him to this point here, in front of the mirror as he tries desperately to add the finishing flourish to the outfit he has so painstakingly selected. Between his shaking hands, his need to rush so that James doesn’t suspect that he’s up to something, and the fact that bow ties appear to have been invented specifically to torture him, he’s made a real mess of everything. How can such a simple task be so difficult?

“Harry are you all right in there?” James’s voice calls through the bathroom door.

“Yes! Yeah, I’m fine!”

“It’s just, you’ve been in there a while. You’re not sick, are you?”

“No! I’m ok… I just…”

“Ok, well is there anything I can help you with?” James says in such a way that Harry can hear the innuendo in his voice.

“No, I’m just… doing something… complicated… and I don’t want to screw this up…”

“Darling, you’re not making any sense…”

Now James’s voice is tinged with worry. It’s a particular tone he has – quiet and deep – that instantly makes Harry’s resolve shatter with the need to comfort and reassure him. He gives in, as he always does, and cracks the bathroom door open, just a little, so that he can poke his head round and show James that he really is completely fine.

“What are you up to in there?” James asks as he tries to look Harry up and down.

Harry could try to lie, but there would be no point. Plus, as much as Harry and James might lie to other people, these days they try very hard not to do it to each other.

“I’m trying to tie a bow-tie. But I’m sure they’ve been invented to torture people like me; I printed off instructions, I watched hours of youtube videos, and I still can’t get it right! I should have just cut my losses and got a clip on…”

“Blasphemy!” James says with a smile. “Let me see?”

Harry sighs, knowing that his lovely surprise for James is all but ruined, and opens the door.

James’s eyes go comically wide. He takes Harry by the forearm, gentle but still forceful, and leads him into the living room so that he can examine Harry under the light. Harry can see from the look on James’s face that he recognises the suit as the one from the magazine and he stays quiet as James turns him under the light, looking at him from every angle.

“It looks just as wonderful on you as I thought it would. Better, even,” James tells him, before grabbing the lapels of the suit and pulling Harry in for a searing kiss. Harry can’t help but moan into it and he clutches James around the waist to pull their bodies even closer.

“It will look even better on our bedroom floor,” Harry tells him suggestively when they finally break for air.

“Hmmm, tempting…” James says, “but I rather think that you’re up to something. All dressed up, and nowhere to go?”

“You caught me,” Harry confesses, pulling the opera tickets out of the inner pocket of the suit jacket and handing them to James. “I’ve packed your bag with your favourite suit. Dinner and hotel reservations are already made. There’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge for us to have while we wait for the taxi if you like?”

James grins and kisses him again, “how did I get so lucky?” He almost sounds like he’s completely in awe. The thought that James is so enamoured with him makes Harry’s ego swell, amongst other things.

“Not that this isn’t completely wonderful,” James says a little later as he hands Harry a flute of champagne, “but why all the fuss? You know I’d be happy doing anything with you, don’t you?”

“I just wanted to treat my boyfriend,” Harry explains. “And I meant what I said; I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Bow ties are always difficult, you’ll get the hang of it soon…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry interrupts with a smile, “and you know it. I wanted to show you that I listen to you. And that your interests are important to me too. After all the time we spent… before… I know that sometimes I’m not very good at saying how I feel or showing you what you mean to me. But I really meant it – this… us… I can’t ruin it again”

James sits down beside him on the sofa and places his hand reassuringly on Harry’s thigh. He strokes his thumb up and down the sensitive skin under the thick fabric of Harry’s trousers – a touch that is more comforting than teasing.

“You won’t,” James says with absolute certainty. “And if you do, or I do, we’ll forgive each other. Ok?”

They kiss again, Harry pressing his own promise to James’s lips. Harry feels the way James’s hands caress his arms through the velvet of his suit jacket and he relaxes into the touch, finally feeling safe and supported and secure.

#jarry #writing tag

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albionjake · 7 years ago

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My Top 20 EastEnders Characters Of All Time

Yes this is happening.

I love EastEnders. Everything about it really. I think it’s responsible for some of the greatest characters ever created on TV. Also some of the absolute worst but we’re not here to talk about those! (Looking at you, The Ferreiras) I have come up with a (questionable) list of my favourite 20 EastEnders characters. My criteria? I think longevity is a big plus. The more time I spend with these characters, the more fond I’ve become of them I guess? I also tried not to be blinded by nostalgia... People tend to forget that Michelle Fowler was only in EastEnders for 10 years, to put that in context: Lauren Branning has now been a character for 11 years... It’s the same for many EastEnders ‘legends’. Den and Ange were only really around for 4 years or so... So I’ve been wary of filling the list with a load of pre-2000 people. Jamie Mitchell, you were handsome but you’ve not made the cut.

ANYWAY. Time for a bloody list.

20. Carol Jackson I originally had Sonia here but then I remembered her old mum and changed my mind. Sorry Sonia, you can have the non-existent number 21 spot. Always the bridesmaid. Carol Jackson is an interesting one because she spent so much of her time being a mopey, moaning old cow but when it mattered she showed so much heart and realness that it has to be commended. Lindsay Coulson is one of the best actresses the show has ever seen and made Carol into the most sympathetic of characters. Carol was more like a real person than most characters on the show and I found it refreshing. She’s also the mother of three genuine EastEnders legends (Sonia, Robbie, Bianca) and has so many strong links to the Square. I think it’s a real shame that she’s gone and I really hope she returns one day.

19. Tamwar Masood This seems an odd placing, I know. But I feel Tamwar represents a side of the show that is a little unrepresented in this list. Comedy. Yeah sure, some of the comedy in the show is a little heavy handed (the wonderful Kim Fox, for example) but there are some characters that are so wonderfully, subtly funny and Tamwar was certainly one of those. He was on the show for 9 years and was such a great presence to have around. Always there with a deadpan, sarcastic comment. He wasn’t involved in many memorable storylines (his whole wedding storyline was a waste of time, in my opinion) but now that he’s gone, I really miss him. The Masoods in general were absolutely brilliant and I’d love to see a return for them, if not the whole family then at least more Tamwar.

18. Billy Mitchell Yeah that’s right, I refuse to ignore the runt of the Mitchell litter. I love Billy. I think he’s another very realistic and believable character. He’s so loveable and kind, completely different to who he was when he was first introduced. A perfect example of a character growing into something more. He’s always there to help the Mitchells, no matter how horrible they are to him. His relationships with characters are always so heartfelt and believable too. His granddaughter Lola, his ex-wife Little Mo, his wife Honey, his kids, Jay, Roxy, Pam and Les and even Jamie Mitchell in the end. All really lovely relationships to have watched over the years and all down to how bloody great Billy Mitchell is. May he remain in the Square for decades to come.

17. Shirley Carter She feels like a fairly new character but she’s been on the show for over 10 years now. In her own right, she was brilliant but since her family joined she’s been a pretty unstoppable EastEnders force. Her initial Phil romance and all that came with it was brilliant and her friendship with Heather was one of the best the show has seen, along with her relationship with Ben. But since Mick and his family arrived, things have got incredibly interesting for Shirley. She’s now the matriarch of a whole family. So many new relationships and dynamics and still so many more places to go as a character. She’s grumpy, funny, nasty, bad tempered but ultimately very good hearted. Characteristics we may see again a bit further up this list. Shirley is the sort of character that EastEnders will always work well with. She couldn’t be more perfect for Albert Square.

16. Jay Brown/Mitchell I want to put him higher but I need to be honest with myself and admit Jay hasn’t exactly been at the forefront of EastEnders classic storylines or anything. I just really bloody like him. Yes, I fancy him a bit too. Ultimately, I just like him a lot. I think he’s a lovely character, the sort of character I hate seeing bad things happen to. His tragic early years with his dad’s death still feel very raw and I feel protective over him. The way the Mitchell’s made him one of their own was a brilliant idea and his relationship with Phil, Billy and Ben have all been a joy to watch. I really hope the show gives him more to play with because wasting such a wonderful little character would be a shame.

15. Den Watts Yeah that’s right. I’ve put Dirty Den here. Why? Because overall he’s only spent about 7 years on the show. His first stint is undeniably iconic. He was the first big character the show ever had. He was the reason that 30 million people tuned in on Christmas Day in 1986 when the show wasn’t even two years old. He was the first landlord of the Queen Vic. He was in the first scene and said the first words. But he wasn’t around for long. By 1989 he was floating in the Thames. Then it was 2003 and he was ‘back from the dead’. That whole return was a waste of time. Yes it gave us the brilliant Chrissie Watts and a few other great moments but ultimately it just soured the memory of who Den was before. He’ll always be iconic to the show but he’s not too high on my list.

14. Bianca Jackson Some may be surprised at how high this is but the woman is an absolute legend. Her friendship with Tiffany was one of the great EastEnders friendships, something the show often does very well indeed. Her affair with her mum’s husband Dan was gripping. Her relationship with Ricky was utterly iconic. She has links to a lot of the greatest characters the show has seen which makes her pretty important all round. Her horrible clothes, her gaggle of children, her brash personality, all of it is bloody wonderful. I can’t imagine we’ve seen the last of her and I hope she comes back soon.

13. Grant Mitchell Lower than many EastEnders fans would put him but Grant isn’t what he once was. Sure, he’s got bags of charisma and has had some of the greatest storylines the show has ever seen. He’s also one half of the most iconic brothers in TV history. His whole family is (in my opinion) the best EastEnders has seen or will see. But Grant keeps coming and going and I think it’s damaging his legacy. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for bringing Grant back but please can we have him for a couple of years rather than a few months! It’s such a shame when he just pops back for a bit to remind us of his potential and then just leaves again. I understand that Ross Kemp isn’t interested in a full time return and that’s a real shame but maybe then we should just say goodbye to him for good?

12. Sharon Mitchell/Watts I know, I know, I know. The way I go on about her, you’d expect Sharon to at least have made the top 5... But the reason I love Sharon so much is that she is a bit shit. She’s been a character since the very first episode and has never gone away long enough for a return to feel like too much. Her initial return in 2001 is one of the most iconically camp moments ever. Everything Sharon does is camp. She’s like a lowkey drag queen. I love every Dynesty-esque look, every flutter of the eyelid, every pout and every black outfit. She’s completely ridiculous and annoying but she’s a complete legend and I love her.

11. Ian Beale I know, that’s three real legends in a row now. It’s just... Ian is Ian isn’t he. He’s never going to set our worlds on fire but he’s fucking Ian Beale and he’s been with us since 1985. He’s the annoying little brother we’ve all grown to love(ish) after 30 years. We’ve seen Ian go through all sorts of things and he really has been at the centre of some of the biggest storylines. His marriage to Cindy was truly delightful and his breakdown over the death of his daughter Lucy was incredible. I maintain that Adam Woodyatt’s live acting on the special episode was Oscar worthy. Ian is a legend and he’ll hopefully be there until he’s very old.

10. Ben Mitchell Look, I’m aware that he’s pretty annoying. But what a character. Why do I love Ben? I find his weird personality very funny. He’s always been weird in a variety of ways and I’ve enjoyed them all. His daddy issues have never felt forced. Anyone with Phil as a father would have issues, particularly if they were gay so everything about Ben makes perfect sense to me. Also, we’ve known Ben since he was born. We saw his mum meet his dad, his mum discover she was pregnant, him being born, him contracting meningitis giving him impaired hearing. We only missed 7 years of his life when he went to South Africa with Kathy so we know him so well. I’ve loved pretty much all of his storylines and I hope Ben sticks around ages longer. I must say, I do hope he goes off the rails again soon, I wouldn’t want him to be normal for too long.

9. Frank Butcher A legend if ever there was one. It’s such a shame that Mike Reid died at the relatively young age of 67. It would have been great to see a bit more of Frank. Frank Butcher truly embodies EastEnders, in the same way Alfie and Mick (neither of whom have made this list) have done since. Proper EastEnd wide boys are a staple of the show and you’ll never get a better one than Frank. His relationship with Pat is one of the most famous in British television and the scene where he wore nothing but a spinning bowtie is one of the show’s most iconic. Three of his strongest connections on the show were to characters that that are yet to come on this list which is probably the reason he’s featured so high, I associate him with the best. He was loud, funny and sometimes utterly heartbreaking. I miss him.

8. Max Branning A higher placing than I expected for Max but I think it’s warranted. He’s an absolutely brilliant character. He’s so charismatic, he’s funny, he’s charming, he’s sneaky, he’s frustrating, he’s clever, he’s a hero, he’s a villain and he’s one of the show’s greatest ever characters. His marriage to Tanya was always brilliant viewing, I still hold out hope that we’ll see a return to those days. The affair storyline with Stacey is obviously up there with the greatest. His two daughters are also fantastic characters in their own right with so many layers. The show is always a better place with Max around and I’d love to see a proper return for the Max Branning we know and love. I want him back with Tanya, with a good relationship with his girls and a nice strong base in the Square.

7. Stacey Slater/Fowler I adore Stacey. I think she’s just absolutely bloody fantastic. I want her to my friend. When she first arrived, it felt like one Slater too many seeing as the family were taking up every storyline going but how wrong I was. Stacey Slater is the best thing about EastEnders right now and she’s not even got a storyline. I just love having her around. Her relationship with Martin has gone from something that felt a bit weird to something that feels entirely right. The way she talks him down from his crazy parenting habits is always such a joy to watch and the way she’s always such a great step mum to Bex is delightful. I obviously loved her affair with Max and now I love their friendship. I love her relationship with Kat and the way she isn’t afraid to kick off. Her mental health storylines have always been compelling and Lacey Turner is just one of the best actresses on British TV.

6. Pat Butcher/Evans This is getting very difficult now. The top 6 really are in a different league for me. Pat Butcher is one of the absolute best. She is almost THE icon of EastEnders. She was an ex-prostitute with a heart of gold and a vicious tongue. Her and Frank were the (pearly) King and Queen of the show for many years. Pat was related to so many fantastic characters over the years and had friendships with anyone that mattered. Her relationship with step-daughter Janine was always brilliant to watch. She was always there for her granddaughter Bianca and all her kids. She was a great enemy and eventual best friend to Peggy. Pat Butcher was so many things to so many people. She had the most iconic look with the huge earrings, loud shirts and too much makeup. Her death came far too soon but was incredibly moving to watch. It’s a shame she’s gone. Would be great to have had her around the past few years.

5. Peggy Mitchell The best woman that ever owned the Queen Vic. Yeah sure, Angie was iconic. Pat looked very at home there. Kat couldn’t have been a better fit. Linda is doing a brilliant job. But Peggy is the true landlady of the Queen Vic. “Get out of my pub” is all you need to say to realise that she’ll forever own that place in a way. Peggy was such a tiny little ball of fury and passion. The Mitchell’s are my favourite family by far (there are 6 people with that surname on this list) and she was the undisputed head of that family. Peggy with her two boys, Phil and Grant, will always be the most iconic soap family. She had some incredible storylines and Barbara Windsor gave some wonderful performances. Her one downfall might be the amount of time she actually spent on the Square. She went on breaks fairly often and I always feel like that ruins the characters momentum a little bit. Saying that, her return for her death really was beautiful. I’ve cried multiple times at the scene where Phil reads her letter to him after she’s gone. I think the nation felt the pain at Peggy’s loss as much as the characters did. 4. Kat Slater/Moon What a character. She’s the newest character in the top 5 but has managed almost 17 years! I suppose there was a 5 year break but I don’t think it did much to slow her down. Kat is such a brilliantly complicated character. Viewers loved her and the whole Slater family pretty much as soon as they arrived and Kat was immediately the stand out member. She’s loud, loveable, nasty, compassionate, funny, emotionally draining and much more. She really has got it all. Her Zoe storyline came so soon into their arrival that it gave us an understanding of Kat’s past straight away. It was a brilliant way of giving an explanation of Kat and that little girl who was abused is constantly visible in the character. Her relationship with Alfie is one of the most beautiful on the show. Her relationship with Stacey is a joy. She’s now got a load of kids who will hopefully grow up into great characters in their own right and have Kat as an old EastEnders matriarch figure. She had a great friendship with Bianca that couldn’t have felt more right and she’s had so many fantastic enemies over the years too. You’re never bored when Kat is around and I really hope she returns soon because I miss her terribly. No more RedWater please! Just Kat in the Square. 3. Phil Mitchell The top dog of the Mitchell family has to come highest really. He might not be as likeable as the previous Mitchells listed but he really is the best. He’s had more storylines than most of this list and has spent so much time actually on the show. A good handful of these characters have had loads of extended breaks but Phil really hasn’t. He’s just got back from a break but is already in full Phil Mitchell mode. Phil is best when he’s tearing the Square apart and putting people in their place and it’s great to have him back. This list is full of names that have strong links to Phil: Peggy, Grant, Ben, Sharon, Ian, Billy, Jay, Shirley. It really is testament to what a brilliant character he is. Back in the day, it was Grant who was everyone’s favourite. Grant had all the storylines and Phil was his softer and slightly more boring brother but once Grant was gone, Phil very quickly took over. The ‘Who Shot Phil’ storyline was one of the show’s most iconic. His relationships are always great, even if it is sometimes unbelievable that quite so many beautiful women would fall for him. His rivalry with Ian is one of my favourite long standing strands in the show too. Then you’ve got his two kids Ben and Louise, both great characters in their own rights now who will hopefully be around for a lot longer. He recently had another son with Denise who I’m sure will pop up 15 years or so down the line if the Mitchell’s are still a thing by then. The best thing about Phil is how flawed he is. He’s been a nasty piece of work and will probably continue to be in the future but it’s played so well that you can never properly hate Phil. Everything he does makes sense in his world and the viewers always understand where Phil is coming from, even when they disagree with him. He’s a very special character that Steve McFadden should be proud of. 2. Dot Cotton/Branning The face of EastEnders. Fair enough, Dot’s storylines these days (and most of her history, really) isn’t as exciting as most others on this list but it really doesn’t matter. The character work that has been done on Dot over the years is second to none. EastEnders fans love this woman from the bottom of their hearts and that’s down to how she’s been written for all these years. She’s an incredible character. She’s the only character that’s done a single handed episode. One whole episode with only Dot in it. Dot’s history is so rich and so full of heartbreak but also full of love and happiness. A simple storyline like Abi moving out of Dots comes with such huge emotion and that’s because she’s leaving Dot alone. Anyone but Dot and it wouldn’t have had half the impact. We care about Dot as if she was our own grandma and I can’t think of many characters I can say that about. She’s also so funny. It’s easy to think of Dot as a tragic character after all that’s happened to her and the losses she’s suffered but it’s just as easy to think of her as a comic character. June Brown has always played both sides to perfection. We love Dot whether she’s feeling sorry for herself on her own or being a busy body in the Vic drinking her tomato juice (or sherry at Christmas of course). Dot is an icon if ever there was one and it’s going to be an unbearably sad day when she leaves us. 1. Janine Butcher Yeah yeah yeah, I’m aware that the 5 people above Janine have a much stronger case for being proper EastEnders legends. But come on… Janine is such a force of nature when she turns up, it’s impossible for me to choose anyone else. I’ll admit, I’m pretty obsessed with Janine. I find her completely captivating. She’s so completely evil but then she shows you that tiny glimpse of good in her and you’re right back on her side. She couldn’t be more manipulative, for the characters or the viewers. Obviously the moment you think of when you think of Janine is pushing Barry down the cliff (“If only he’d worn slip on shoes”). She’s manipulated so many people over the years that it’s amazing she’s never been the subject of a whodunnit, hopefully she’ll return one day for that. Although not a murder whodunnit, I want Janine making people’s lives a misery for many years to come. Then there’s the soft side. We often saw the soft side with her beloved dad Frank. We also sometimes saw it between her and different men in her life but never for long. The person I remember most fondly for bringing out Janine’s soft side is Pat. Janine and Pat’s relationship was one of the most hate-filled yet love-filled I’ve seen. When Pat was dying, it was Janine that made me cry most. Seeing Janine so sad about losing someone was too much for me. I have such a great fondness for every side of Janine. I really really really hope Charlie Brooks decides one day that it’s time for Janine to come back because I can’t imagine a year goes by without EastEnders giving her a call. If she never returns though, I wouldn’t mind too much. That final scene when she’s in the airport after murdering Michael and someone asks her what she’s been up to: “Oh you know, just getting away with murder”. OH MY GOODNESS. What a line. What a woman. What a character. Please let her come back soon.

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