#I would pay so much money to have seen Charlie reacting to this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vintagedolan · 4 years ago

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mixtape | track six

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“Okay so let me get this straight. You have a boyfriend. Your boyfriend is famous. You’re flying to LA with said boyfriend. And you’re staying at his house? Cause he’s 20 and has a fucking house.”

“Uh yeah, that pretty much covers it.”

“Jesus, I move across the country and then you decide to start getting interesting.”

Indy flipped her grilled cheese over in the skillet, and then flipped off the camera, getting an eye roll from Charlie that she felt through the facetime call.

“You gonna be okay on the plane?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, trying to push the nagging thoughts from her mind.

“Indiana. You’ve gotta tell him before you get on that plane. If you can even get on the plane that is.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it, okay?”

Her list of distractions was dwindling as she finished all the work that had been piled on her before fall break, which was really only a long four day weekend. All she had left was an exam that afternoon, and then it would be time to go.

Grayson had insisted that they take Beks advice, take a trip out of the city to somewhere other than Jersey. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least.

“That sounds fun but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. Her usual excuse for getting out of things that made her anxious was simple. School. Too much homework, upcoming exam, blah blah blah. Usually that just earned her an eye roll, maybe an off hand ‘nerd’ comment too, but then the subject would be dropped.

Grayson wouldn’t be swayed that easily; and, she didn’t even have her default option. She scrambled for ideas with her thoughts running wild until he reached across the couch and laid his hand on top of hers.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I was thinking about airports.” It wasn’t a lie, but that was only partially the culprit of the knot in her stomach.

“It’s a straight flight to LA, super easy. I’ve done it way too many times, I know my way around.”

She chewed her lip and he squeezed her hand.

“C’mon, you’ll love it. LA is shitty sometimes but it’s amazing too. And you can meet Eden finally, she’s always asking about you. And Adele too. And I can show you the house, the pod studio. We can go surfing if you want. I’ll take you to Monty’s.”

“Gray. I can’t afford it.”

“Like I was gonna make you pay for it,” he laughed, but she stayed still beside him, unable to find the same amusement.

“I don’t want you to spend money on me like that.”

“Money doesn’t mean much to me. Doesn’t mean anything to me really,” he shrugged - she couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. It felt a bit hypocritical, for her to be acting like she struggled with money while she sat in her nice Chelsea apartment. But that money hadn’t come from her own pockets - it came with the price tag of guilt and the threat of it being taken away if her dad felt like it, which kept her and her ever shrinking savings account on edge. Money didn’t seem to be a real concept in the Dolan family however, and she tried to remind herself of that while Gray toyed with her fingers.

He switched to other tactics of persuasion when the silence stretched a bit too long, moving closer and nuzzling into her neck, pressing little kisses to her skin in between murmurs of “please Dee” and “c’mon baby”.

She conceded, gently tugging on his hair to get him to come back to her.

“Fine. But I’m paying you back one day. When I can.”

Grayson knew that wouldn’t be for years, and he liked the idea of her and him that far in the future, so he just nodded and kissed her again.

Charlie stayed on the line while Indy ate and then moved on to finish her packing, throwing in too many outfits for just four days and four nights, but she wasn’t sure what California called for. It took her a good five minutes of digging to find her bathing suits that she hadn’t drug out since the summer, but she eventually added them to the bag as the final touch and got everything ready. Charlie convinced her to take a few pieces of skimpier clothing in case the ‘vibes were right’, which had Indy blushing bright red and eventually making an excuse to get off the phone before she had to get into her sex life any further with her sister.

Her breathing settled for a moment when her phone buzzed, a message from ‘gray 💚 ’.

Plane snacks?

Also does coffee make you shit your pants

Cause I’ll get you some for the ride to the airport if it won’t hurt your tummy on the plane

Leave it to him to put a smile on her face even as her stomach continued to turn. She tried to convince herself it was her exam that had her so worked up, but she knew better.

if 4 years as a barista gave me anything it was immunity in that department

so yes to the coffee pls :)

and just get me whatever you’re getting for snacks please

Gotcha, I’ll swing by and get your bag

Good luck on your exam! Not that you need it

I’ll be waiting outside in the ugly ass truck 💜 I love you

see you soon, I love you too

With that she packed up the last few things, leaving her bag in plain sight before she left for class. She was able to clear her mind enough on her walk, getting herself into ‘school mode’ before she got to the building. The exam went easily, as she expected that it would - it was nice to have subjects like medical terminology that were so cut and dry sometimes. Either you know it, or you don’t, as Nicole used to say. No point in guessing.

Indy didn’t like having to guess.

Which was why she had the airport map pulled up on her phone while she stood on the sidewalk, leaned up against the building as she tried to plan out the best way to get to the terminal that they needed. She’d already done this - three times, actually - but it made her feel better anyways.

She heard the rumble of the engine first, but it only held her ears for a moment. Because then, it was a giggle, and a squeal, and a whispered voice saying “no, that’s them, that has to be them! Who the fuck else would have a truck like that?”

Indiana’s stomach tightened even more somehow at the realization of what was happening. Charlie’s voice rang in her ears - your boyfriend is famous.

They’d never talked about what to do in a situation like this, but she’d seen enough stories about celebrities who hid their relationships to know that ‘undisclosed’ was the default setting. Suddenly very thankful that she’d decided to go with a hoodie that morning, she pulled the fabric up over her hair and dropped her head, keeping her eyes trained upward to watch what Grayson was doing.

She watched the girls go up to the cab and ask for a photo, which Grayson seemed to happily oblige to, though he didn’t get out of the car. He noticed her a moment later and his smile faltered at the realization that she’d been waiting on him. The girls asked him to give their love to Ethan and then went on their way. Indy held back for a few moments, waiting until they were out of sight before she hurried forward and got into the passenger seat.

“You must have finished that exam quick, I figured I’d be waiting on you,” Gray teased, but his voice was a bit tight.

“It was pretty easy, you either know it or you don’t.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t have known any of it,” he laughed, eyes still scanning the street - whether for cars or people, she couldn’t tell. “You ready to go?”

No. “Sure.”

The pair had felt the peace of comfortable silence enough in their relationship so far to know when it was absent, and there wasn’t a trace of it to be found. Indy was too caught up in her own mind to react to Grayson’s attempts to engage her, from the hand on her bouncing thigh to the looks he snuck, eyes darting from the busy road for a moment. She kept her coffee in both her hands - drinking it was counterproductive in terms of her nerves most likely, but the warmth of it was comforting enough for her to justify it. Grayson’s mouth got drier with every exit they passed, and he kept his cool until they got to the pay to park lot at the airport and he shifted the truck into park.

“We don’t have to go you know.”

The dejection in his voice was finally enough to pull Indiana out of her own little world. Her eyes came back into focus as she turned to him.

“Gray-”

“If it’s about the money, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just really wanted to show you LA, cause it’s a big part of me, and I didn’t want you to be stressed about the price of tickets.”

“It’s not the money.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re pissed about something, obviously, and I’d like to be let in on the secret if you don’t mind.”

She shrunk under his harsh tone, unsure of whether she should even say anything. She hated when she got like this, and hated even more that she didn’t even have a hope of control over it, despite it being herself, her own mind causing the issues.

“Planes.”

“What?”

“It’s not you, it’s planes. Airports. Flying in general. I just… I don’t like it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ve been on plenty of planes, and nothing bad has ever happened while I was on there.” There was an airiness to his tone, as if it was as simple as his own testimony fixing the entire situation.

“That… doesn’t help.” She didn’t even like the thought of him being on a plane, much less the both of them. She practically flinched at the sound of one flying over them.

Grayson’s wheels were turning, slower than he wanted them to as he scrambled for an idea, anything that could make her feel better at the realization that his words had only made it worse.

“Can I have a redo on that?”

She looked up at him - at his sheepish smile and the blush on his cheeks, and the next breath she took in was a tad easier.

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling anxious, what can I do to help?”

His tone was so flat that they just looked at each other and then busted out laughing. Indiana couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her laugh when she felt so terribly. It was almost foreign to her - she felt like she shouldn’t be doing it somehow.

“Sorry, that was - fuck that was formal,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “What I meant was, whatever you need, I’ll do. You just have to tell me.”

“Uh… not going.”

His hand moved to the gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and leave. She placed hers on top of his, holding on when he moved away.

“Kidding.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little serious. But I want to. I want to go, it’s just hard. Having someone with me that I trust helps though.”

His chest swelled a bit at the realization that he was considered one of those people - it was one of the best honors he could imagine being given by somebody that he cared about, probably because it wasn’t something that he gave out easily. He pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the soft skin.

“I’ll be with you then. You can hold onto me the whole time.”

“You sure about that?”

He frowned immediately at that, reaching his hand over to her thigh, running a thumb over the material of her leggings. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’re probably gonna have more fans coming up to you and stuff. I figured you didn’t want them like… knowing about me.”

“I never said that,” he countered, squeezing a bit. “I mean if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but I’m okay with it if you are.”

There was a sincerity to his gaze that conveyed what he hadn’t said - an almost plea for her to be okay with it. And so she was, at least enough for her to give him a nod and a quick kiss before stepping out of the truck.

He got to her bags before she could, and he was grateful that he’d only brought a duffle. He managed both bags with one hand and grabbed onto hers with the other as they started through the parking lot.

And he didn’t let go a single time, apart from the security scans and her going to pee after they made it through, in which he waited outside the bathroom for her with his arms crossed. Ethan met up with them at the terminal, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see Eden for the first time in a month. He was staying an extra week to get some quality time with her, and he was a constant stream of excitement. Grayson kept his attention on Indy though, trying to read her for any signs that things were getting worse. He kept a hand on her bouncing leg, running a thumb back and forth constantly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple every so often.

“I’m gonna go check something really quick, I’ll be right back. Ethan, stay with her okay?”

Ethan didn’t question it. He slid over to replace his brother for a moment as he headed up to the desk at the gate. Despite his bubbly charm, Ethan had a calmer nature to him than Grayson did, no matter how hard he tried to exude the same level headedness. It came effortlessly to his twin it seemed.

“Gingerale helps calm me down on planes. Don’t know why but it does,” he mumbled, scooting a bit closer so his arm was pressed up along hers on the small bars between their seats.

He didn’t seem to need a response, and Indy was grateful. She leaned against him a bit more as a silent thank you that he seemed to accept, and they stayed that way until Grayson returned, switching out places again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder immediately.

“I upgraded us to first class.”

“What? Why!?” She spoke for the first time since the car, surprised that her voice still sounded stable.

“You’ll see. C’mon, we’re about to board. You still sure you want to do this?”

She couldn’t give him an answer, but she stood up anyways and held onto his arm as they scanned their tickets and moved down the jet bridge. He pressed kisses to her blonde hair, ducking down a few times to check on her as they made their way down and got settled into their seats, Ethan settling into the row beside her.

Indy kept her lip tucked underneath her top teeth, looking around at anything to distract her from where she was as her mind raced, so fast she couldn’t even pinpoint what was making her the most anxious.

“Focus on me. I’m right here,” Grayson hummed, reaching over to turn her face towards his for a moment. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in her voice. She felt like she was going to cry, and she tucked her hood up over her ears, trying to drown out anything that sounded remotely like an airplane. Her lungs weren’t working how she wanted them to, and she sucked in breath after breath, none of them deep enough to relieve the tightness in her chest.

“Here. Try this.”

Long fingers tucked into her hood, moving her hair back from her ear so he could slip one of his headphones in. It fit snugly, and he scrambled to his phone, pulling up his Cudi playlist and scrolling through until he found what he wanted. The familiar intro of Teleport 2 Me, Jamie started to play as the final passengers boarded onto the rather large plane. How had everyone gotten on so fast? It seemed her mind was running away from her, making time move faster, bringing on the inevitable.

“This song makes me think about you, you know. I know Jamie is your middle name but still.”

She barely registered his words as a few tears snuck out of the corner of her eyes. Even her lips were shaking as she tried to breathe, curling in on herself with her knees pulled to her chest. The flight attendant was nice enough to not ask to see her seatbelt, sensing that she was better left undisturbed.

The guilt started to eat Grayson alive as he watched her struggle, running a hand over her back and leaning over to hold onto her, looking to his brother for support. Ethan’s eyes were wide with concern but he was just as helpless, not even being able to reach a comforting hand across the aisle because of the flight attendants passing by. It only got worse as they began to move - Grayson couldn’t tell if she was shaking harder or if it was just the movement of the plane.

The only good sign he got was her reaching her hand out in search of his. When he laced his fingers with hers she squeezed so hard he knew his bones were moving in a way they weren’t meant to, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not when he was the cause of her being in so much distress. It put a pit in his stomach, a mixture of the urge to apologize over and over and the wish that he could somehow climb inside her mind and soothe her, make her believe that she would be alright.

So, he did the next best thing he could think of. As soon as they had taken off, which felt like it took hours, he reached to her waist and unclipped her seatbelt.

“Come here.”

It took a moment for her to process, but once she understood Indy didn’t hesitate to climb over into his lap, curling up so small that she fit comfortably there in the wide first class seat, head tucked into the nook of his neck as he wrapped her up in his arms.

“You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” she squeaked. If anyone else in first class heard it, they elected to ignore it. “It’s not usually this bad.”

“Shhhh, don’t. Just close your eyes. We’ll be there before you know it, okay?”

She reached a hand up to his neck, tucking it in against his skin under his sweatshirt as an anchor before she closed her eyes. She wrestled with her mind, trying to override with a focus on what she was physically feeling - his warm skin under her fingertips, the roughness of his beard against her forehead, the change of the song in her headphone. Her other ear was pressed against his chest and she tried to listen for his heartbeat, getting sidetracked when his hand moved her hoodie up barely so he could get underneath to her skin. One finger began to trace.

I-M-S-O-R-R-Y

She shook her head, tilting up to press her nose against him. It was her that should be apologizing, she thought. She hadn’t warned him properly of what to expect. That being said, it was true that she hadn’t had such a bad experience in a while - it only clicked then that it probably had to do with the fact that Grayson was on the plane too. If it crashed and she died, so would he, and the thought of it made her want to hurl. Instead, she clung to him tighter, forming letters by his collarbone with her fingertip.

N-O-T-Y-O-U-R-F-A-U-L-T

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment before he shifted and rested his cheek on top of her head.

S-T-I-L-L-S-O-R-R-Y

She nuzzled closer to him.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

Against her hip, she felt four gentle squeezes, a silent I love you too as they continued through the sky.

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

“Jesus. It’s hot. Like, hot hot.”

“Ethan. It’s Cali. Of course it’s fucking hot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not natural for it to be this hot in fucking October. Anywhere.”

Indy listened to their bickering quietly, catching her breath a little more with each mile she put between her and the airport. It was just her leg bouncing now as she sipped on her gingerale - it had appeared on her tray table at some point in the flight and she hadn’t been able to stomach it until she made it out of the airport and into Ethan’s tesla, which was driven by Adele, a sweet woman with a kind smile and soft voice.

Grayson sat in the backseat with her, still on alert for any sign that she was anxious, hand resting on her thigh. But he breathed easier as he watched her body finally begin to accept that she was on the ground, and by the time they pulled up to the gate she was almost back to her normal self.

She enjoyed the feeling of her feet on the hard concrete of the driveway when she got out of the car, feeling a bit like a celebrity when the door swung open over her head. Grayson grabbed the bags and was immediately at her side, taking her hand and leading her up to the door. It wasn’t the first time that Indy had seen the inside of the house - she’d gotten glimpses of it on a few vlogs that they’d watched with Bekah one night. But there was a warmth to the space that didn’t quite read on camera, a familiarity that she realized was traces of Grayson everywhere, from the Cudi vinyls on the shelf to the wood based furniture that he’d definitely had a hand in making.

“I’m going to get Eden, I’ll be back in… I don’t know how long,” Ethan winked, immediately grabbing his keys and heading back out to the still warm Tesla, leaving his bag off the side of the kitchen.

“You up for a tour?”

If she was honest, her body was entirely exhausted, and her mind wasn’t far behind. But she perked up for his sake and nodded, taking his hand as he started to guide her through the house. He stopped in each room, showing off little details he’d helped pick out, from the colorful couch in the sunken room off the kitchen to the floating desk in Ethan’s room that he’d helped him install. The podcast studio was the most eclectic of any of them, with a massive wooden table that almost seemed carved around the blue light in the middle - not to mention the hot pink wall of the entrance, which was cut off by a wild jungle wallpaper wall that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Grayson spoke a mile a minute, explaining every step, every change they had made to the house since they’d bought it. Indy’s mind struggled to keep up, to visualize what he was saying, describing rooms she’d never seen.

“Ethan got the master this time around, so my room is a little smaller, but it’s cooler anyways.”

He guided her into a dark room on the right side of the hallway. It was somehow calmer than the rest of the house, and it practically zapped the rest of the energy out of her as soon as she passed the threshold. He showed her the green bathroom, the fancy toilet he’d picked out, his massive and meticulously organized closet. But when she flopped down onto the bed, she knew she was done for.

Grayson smiled when she hummed against the comforter - the first true sign of relaxation she’d shown since he’d picked her up from campus that morning.

“You tired bubs?”

“No,” she lied.

“You wanna take a nap?”

“No.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I’m resting, I just need like… 30 seconds.”

“You can sleep.”

“You were gonna show me the backyard though.”

She felt the bed dip down slightly, and then his lips were on her temple.

“The backyard will be there when you wake up. Besides, I need to get some work done anyways, and you’ve had a shitshow of a morning. Sleep, and maybe we can go get dinner with E squared later if you’re up for it, and I’ll take you to the beach.”

“E squared?” She muttered, only half motivated to stay awake for the answer.

“Ethan and Eden. They’ll be back over in a few hours I’m sure, he’s saving us from having to listen to their reunion fuck through the walls.”

“How considerate.” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, and it made Grayson smile. He moved to his closet, opening the extra drawer he used to store his blankets and pulling one out for her.

She vaguely felt the weight of the fabric being laid over her, and a gentle hum that sounded like ‘I love you’ before her body finally gave in and succumbed to sleep.

As soon as he knew she was out, Grayson got to work on all the things that he’d neglected in the last month. He made quick work of a full email inbox, a few calls that he stepped out of the room for, a Wakeheart campaign approval that he forwarded to Ethan - something about being back in LA lit the fire under him that always seemed to simmer out in the cool Jersey air. It took less thought, less intention to go into his kitchen, use his preset on the coffee machine with his favorite mug under it. Jersey was home, but LA was home, and he never realized how much he loved it until he was away for a while. His phone buzzed, loud against the counter - a text from Ethan running across his screensaver of the only picture he’d taken with Indy so far. He made a mental note to take more over the next few days before he opened the message.

Be there in 10, make sure everyone has pants on

He liked the message and stood up slowly, closing his laptop before heading back towards his room. He paused in the doorway, unable to help himself as he looked in.

Indiana was sprawled out across his bed, one of her legs escaping from under the covers. The pillow was tucked under her head, held by one arm while the other reached out to the empty side of the bed, hand splayed out on the fabric. With his phone already in his hand he couldn’t help but to snap a quick picture of her, a sweet memory that he knew he’d want to keep. He felt a little guilty having to wake her up from what seemed like such a peaceful nap, but he also knew she’d be made if he didn’t give her a chance to freshen up before Eden got there. So he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, rubbing along her back until her eyes blinked opened.

“Time to get up sleepyhead,” he teased, keeping his hand on her hip as she rolled over and stretched out in the most adorable way.

“Hmmmm, c’mere,” she grinned, reaching up for him and pulling his lips down to hers. The little cat nap seemed to be the recovery her body needed, a reset that allowed her mind to focus on other things, like how good Grayson looked in the fresh t-shirt that he’d changed into while she was out. He indulged her, moving a knee onto the bed so he could get above her and get behind the kiss.

“Ethan’s gonna be here in 10,” he murmured, but his lips still moved against hers, his relief palpable that she seemed to be doing better.

“Then we have 9.”

“Eden’s coming too.”

She pulled back with wide eyes, and before he could say another word she was rolling out from underneath him. It took her two whole rolls to get to the other side of the bed, which was almost as endearing to Grayson as the way she scurried to her bag in the closet, immediately pulling out clothes like her life depended on it.

“Baby, it’s just Eden.”

“No, it’s Ethan’s girlfriend Eden. Which means she’s not just Eden, it means she’s very important.”

“Important? You act like this is a job interview or something.”

“It’s a girlfriend interview, which is worse.”

“A what?” He struggled to stay focused on her answer as she pulled her leggings off and wiggled into a pair of high waisted black jean shorts as she spoke.

“When you have a woman in your life, a good woman, who isn’t your girlfriend, they go into protective mode. It’s a maternal thing I think, but it doesn’t matter who it is, they keep an eye out for you. And the biggest threat that those women can see for their guy friend is a new girlfriend. It doesn’t mean she’s gonna hate me, but she’s definitely gonna want to vet me at the least. And I bet it’s worse because I’ll be around Ethan so much so she’ll want to be extra careful. Plus, she doesn’t know me from adam, and...hey. Hey. Are you listening to me?”

At some point in the middle of her explanation she’d taken her shirt off, and Grayson’s mind had gone a bit fuzzy at the sight of her bra - dark purple, with a peek of lace under the cups.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Eden’s nice though, she’s sweet, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

She turned to him with a frustrated frown that he kissed away when he closed the distance between them, hands moving to hold her bare hips. Her skin was soft and still had a trace of warmth from sleep, and it made him hold on and rub his thumbs against her for a moment, trying to process that she was actually there with him.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, and besides, her opinion of you isn’t going to change my opinion of you.” He kissed her forehead quickly and let go so she could get ready. She pulled a tank top on and headed into the bathroom, freshening up until the moment that she heard the front door open, signally Ethan and Eden’s arrival.

“Do I look okay?”

“Perfect as always,” he beamed, taking her hand and leading her back out towards the kitchen.

“Grayson!”

Eden came running around the island and barrelled into Grayson like she hadn’t seen him in years. He caught her with a smile, a laugh and a ‘hey evil’, an inside joke that Indy wasn’t let in on. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because she was immediately wrapped up in tan arms, her vision obscured by a curtain of wavy black hair.

“Hi! I’m Eden, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Indiana, nice to meet you too!”

The hug was as awkward as any first hug she’d ever had, but the smile on the boy’s faces made it worth it when Indy pulled back. Ethan was glowing in the way you only glow after you get laid for the first time in a long time, and he’d apparently worked up an appetite, because they didn’t spend more than five minutes in the house before they were headed out to Monty’s. Indy still tried to open the Tesla door like a normal one, barely stepping back in time when it lifted up above her head. To her surprise, Eden jumped into the backseat beside her, forcing Grayson up to the passenger seat next to Ethan.

“So, you’re in school right? To be a nurse?”

“A doctor actually, but yeah, I graduate in a little over a month with my Bachelor’s,” Indy explained, preparing herself for the questions she was sure to get, being careful to be truthful in her answers without accidentally saying something that would make Eden hate her. Ethan’s girlfriend had a sweet face, peppered in freckles that almost looked faded in her warm toned skin. Her eyes sat large on her face, making her look a bit like a doe. But her outfit told a different story - everything about it spoke confidence and bad bitch energy in a way that Indiana was only used to seeing on LA model’s instagrams. It hit her quickly that it was very much possible that Eden might actually be an LA model, and the thought made her mouth run dry.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer.”

“Oh really? That’s amazing! What kind of work do you do?”

Eden launched into her career, from how she got there to what major brands she’d worked for - some of which shocked Indy. Grayson reached back behind his seat a few minutes into the drive, holding onto her leg and running his thumb along her skin as he balanced listening to his brother and listening to the girls. The energy settled in the cab, and Indy breathed out a sigh of relief at the realization that, for now at least, she’d passed the test.

It didn’t stop the questions though. A constant stream of information grabs, from her favorite things about New York to her family. Grayson squeezed tight when Eden mentioned her mom, throwing Ethan an unjustified look of annoyance. Indiana didn’t mind, though she didn’t love the look of pity that came over Eden’s face when she let her know that she had passed. But it moved on quickly, on to questions of her apartment, her college, her friends.

The only pause came when the Tesla rolled to a stop outside of Monty’s, which was packed with a long line outside. Eden let out a small sigh, reaching down for her purse.

“Usual, guys?”

They both nodded, a bit of unspoken tension growing in the air.

“Indiana, you wanna come with? The boys can just circle around.”

“I uh… yeah, yeah sure.” Indy went along with it, stepping out of the car quickly, trying to look back at Grayson through the window for some explanation, but they were so tinted that she couldn’t even guess what his facial expression was. Eden linked their arms quickly, leading her down the sidewalk and to the back of the line as if nothing had happened. Indy watched Ethan pull away quickly, and swore she could see a very concerned Grayson through the windshield.

“It makes it easier if they don’t have to get out. Too many people, and with a line this long the paps would show up.”

Two brunette girls in front of them turned around, interest piqued.

“Paps? For who?”

“No one, mind your damn business,” Eden said, waiting until they turned around to melt back into her usual friendly demeanor.

“I didn’t even think about that. About like, getting recognized I guess. But it happened in New York for the first time this morning, on campus.”

“LA is the worst for it. People see you take a picture with someone and then ask for one even if they don’t know who they are. Well, most people our age know who they are actually, but still. It’s not as bad in other places, just the occasional person. Et-” she cut herself off, knowing the girls were still eavesdropping. “He loves meeting fans but it gets to be a lot sometimes. So I try to help him out when I can. They’ll never ask for it, but they never turn it down either.”

Indy swallowed hard. She said it so casually, as if it was totally normal for the two of them to be standing there while their boyfriends drove around just so they didn’t get mobbed. She felt like a million pairs of eyes were on her as they inched forward in line every few moments. Eden just looked at her nails, picking at her cuticles.

“Does it ever get… normal? Them being recognized?”

“You learn to ignore it. And they don’t go out as much as you think. We’ll go out to show you around because you’ve never been here, but most of the time they’re home bodies. They kinda had to be, coming out here so young.”

“I can’t imagine coming out here at 15,” Indy mumbled, shaking her head.

“They’ve been through a lot. But then again so have you. So has everyone, at the end of the day.”

She was taken aback by the sudden depth of the conversation, but it didn’t last long, because soon they were close enough to the menu that Indy was asking questions. The Tesla circled again while they waited on the food, which came in little brown boxes stuffed into a bag. The girls waited on the curb for Ethan to pull back around, climbing in as inconspicuously as they could, getting settled into the backseat again.

“Got the goods?”

“You know it,” she grinned. Grayson reached back for Indiana again - he’d missed her in the few minutes that they were gone, and he didn’t realize he’d been anxious until it faded when she was back with him.

“We’re going to the secret beach, it’ll be like 10 minutes, so don’t eat all my fries.”

“I bought us all an extra to share.”

“Atta’ girl,” Ethan said, pressing on the gas a bit harder.

The secret beach, it turned out, was just a less populated one. But it was peaceful, washed pink by the beginnings of a sunset over the ocean. Grayson couldn’t tell if he was more overwhelmed by the colors in the sky or the feeling of finally having his own girl with him, someone’s hand to hold as he moved down the sand beside his brother and Eden. It had been almost a year of him being a third wheel, and he couldn’t stop looking over at Indy, his girl, who was there with him.

Her eyes were on the ocean. Sure, she’d seen the atlantic ocean plenty of times, but the pacific was different. It seemed bigger somehow, bluer, and it took her breath away. Food forgotten, she tugged on Grayson’s hand, only pausing to kick off her shoes before she was running down towards the water, laughing when the froth of the waves tickled her toes. Grayson’s shoes were soaked, but he didn’t care as he followed her down the coastline, laughing and yelling, picking her up around the waist and spinning her around, stopping to kiss her hard as the waves crashed. Ethan took a video on Grayson’s phone, a proud smile on his face as he watched his brother light up. Eden rested her head on his shoulder, remembering the days where that was the two of them, when everything was brand new and on fire.

The duo’s burgers were cold by the time they made it back up the beach, and Ethan had already started in on Grayson’s fries, much to his dismay. But they settled in the sand and ate their food, falling back into the group conversation between bites and swallows.

“So, you’ve been in LA for what, 5 hours now? Are you sold yet?” Ethan picked up another fry from the extra container, dropping it into his mouth.

“It’s gonna take a lot more to sell me on anywhere this far west,” she laughed, crumpling up the paper that her burger was wrapped in and tossing it into the box.

“Has Grayson made you a Jersey girl already?” Eden teased.

“It’s grown on me for sure, but nowhere compares to New York.”

Grayson chewed his last fry a bit slower.

“Yeah? Ethan took me into the city once when we were visiting Jersey but I don’t know much about it if I’m honest. I grew up in Texas.”

“The city is special once you get to know it. There’s so many different people, different cultures, new places to go. And it’s got all the best hospitals, which just makes me work harder because I want to work in one some day. Plus it uh… it’s just always been home to me. I can’t imagine living anywhere else really.”

Grayson’s stomach tightened, suddenly very full of food and smaller than when he’d started eating. They’d never really discussed living situations. He racked his brain, tried to remember if he ever mentioned that he was only staying in Jersey until the tiny homes were done. Surely she realized that he was going to come back to LA. He couldn’t tell if he’d subconsciously thought that she would want to move with him, or if he just assumed that they would handle the distance. But his mind was instantly filled with the image of Indy curled in on herself in a first class seat, and he resisted the urge to get up and walk it off as the guilt returned. The sun seemed to set faster, turning the beach indigo as everyone got up and headed back for the car.

Ethan took an extra moment to fold up the picnic blanket they’d brought, letting the girls get just out of earshot.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t go all doomsday on this shit and shoot yourself in the foot. Cross the distance bridge when you get to it. You all haven’t been together a month yet, if you start talking moving across the country she’s gonna freak. Give it time.”

Most of the time, Grayson despised Ethan’s big brother persona - 20 minutes wasn’t a flex when it came to maturity in his book. But in certain moments, he was grateful for his level head. It helped him breathe a little easier as he headed back to the car, happy to see that Eden had shifted to the front seat. He took the back, a bit annoyed at the space between their seats - another perk of his Porsche, no doubt. But he settled for resting a hand on Indy’s thigh and leaning over for the occasional kiss as they found their way home.

Each couple bid their goodnights despite the early hour, a silent understanding of the do not disturb courtesy to be followed. Indy and Gray bumped hips as they brushed their teeth in the same sink, toothpaste filled smiles shining at each other in the mirror. They fell into each other like they’d done it a million times, even though they could still count on two hands the amount of times they’d had each other like this. It didn’t matter that they were in a new place. Grayson felt the same above her, beside her, behind her as they worked each other up and eased each other down. Their voices echoed off the walls the same, the attempt to stay quiet still there as they tried to give the other couple the same respect that they were no doubt trying to give them.

The travel caught up with Indy first - she was much less versed in time changes after all, and she fell asleep right after her quick shower, curled up in Grayson’s arms, his nose full of her vanilla shampoo and his mind racing, running laps around two words. New York.

He felt like he heard more about the city in his next few days than he did when he was actually there. They facetimed Bekah the next morning, glad to see that she’d made it out of surgery successfully, and that all was smooth sailing so far. She was ecstatic that her two friends we’re getting a break, and she excitedly showed them the new view of the city she had since her recovery room was on the other side of the hospital.

Indy wore a New York sweatshirt that evening when they went back to the secret beach, and she fell asleep with it on on the couch at home, leaned back against Grayson’s chest. He carried her to bed and kissed her forehead, but his eyes focused on the letters, which seemed to be staring at him in the dark.

They ordered pizza for lunch the next day, after an anxiety filled morning of Eden and Indy in a follow car behind the two of them longboarding with their friends. Eden asked about what made NYC pizza so much better, and it seemed like Indy could have talked for hours about crust and sauce, seasoning and ratios.

By the third day, it was consuming his every thought, and despite Ethan’s advice to let it play out, he knew he had to talk to her, or at least try to.

Indy was none the wiser. The LA sun had warmed her skin and her mind, leaving little lines of its presence on both. By the second day the house felt less like a hotel and more like a home, and she understood why the boys loved it so much. Eden became more than an acquaintance; she was easy to love, and the interview seemed to have stopped for the most part. But a part of her still itched for her New York apartment, the bustle of the city, the familiarity of campus and Jets and the blocks that she walked down.

She thought she’d hidden it well, but she learned she was mistaken on the last night they spent in LA.

“You’re ready to leave, aren’t you?”

Indy perked up from where she had settled on his chest. It was routine now, for her to rest against him and trace patterns on his skin before they dozed off.

“Hmm?”

“You’re tracing N-Y-C on my chest. You want to go home.”

“Home sounds nice, the plane ride doesn’t though,” she laughed a bit. Laughing was good. Calm, and put together. “Guess it’s just my subconscious.”

Grayson sighed against her, running his fingers over her back as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t realize you were so attached.”

“To what?”

“To the city.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, it’s home.”

“Home can be multiple places. LA is home, Jersey is home, hell, even Australia is home for me in a way.”

Indy’s neck got tired from craning up at him, so she shifted up to sit with her legs criss cross as he lounged back against the pillows.

“Well, I’ve never really had to make anywhere else home. New York has everything I need I guess.”

“You’ve never wanted to try somewhere else?”

Indy sighed, finally understanding.

“Gray, baby, it’s not like I hate it here. I know it’s important to you, and it should be. I’m just saying that New York is… well, it’s New York. It’s important to me, it’s where I’ve planned out my future.”

He sat up further, propping up on his elbow, resting a hand on her knee.

“What does that mean though? ‘New York is New York’. I mean, it’s a cool city, I’ll give you that, but it’s not just that, right?”

It took a moment for Indy to find her words. She’d never really tried to explain it to anyone, but if anyone would get it, it was him.

“It’s my mom.”

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he opened his mouth, but she kept talking before he could.

“I know she’s not there. She’s wherever she is, I guess. But she breathed New York Grayson. That’s the last place that I knew her while she was still her, and the last place that she knew me. My memories of her live in that city, and when I’m not there I feel like I’m even farther away from her. And I already feel like I’m forgetting little things, because it’s been 4 years now, and I can’t even tell what I can’t remember, and it’s scary.”

Her breath caught in her throat a bit at the realization of what she was saying, what she was admitting. She’d never spoken any of it, not even to Charlie.

“Leaving would feel like moving on and leaving her behind, and I can’t do that. I can’t.”

Her face fell into her hands, and when Grayson’s arms moved around her and pulled her close, she let him.

He held her there until her tears stopped, rocking her barely back and forth until the wave had passed. He thought of Sean, of where he was, and what he would say. And he did his best to take on the heart of his father, to be like the man he so admired - selfless, and good, and strong for others no matter what it cost him. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he spoke.

“No one is asking you to leave. I promise, I’ll never ask you to leave. I promise.”

#SURPRISE HEHE #mixtape #wowza I did not expect to finish this tonight #well #~this morning~ i suppose #please let me know what you think!!!#love you guys!#grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 8 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter eight

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

Emily called me Charlie and now I can’t stop thinking about it. “Hey dude! How you doing?” Jeremy asks when I walk into the garage for a band practice when I come back from the Music Store. I can’t hide the smile that’s tugging at my lips. “She called me Charlie.” Both Owen and Jeremy look at me, a little stumped. “I mean, that’s your name?” Owen fairly points out. “Yeah! But she always called me Charles, you know with that scowl on her face and the corners of her mouth curling up slightly because she doesn’t want to smile. But tonight she actually called me Charlie!” I can’t contain my excitement. I feel like bouncing off the walls, running a marathon, climbing the Kilimanjaro. All in one night. “Happy for you, bro, but can we rehearse now?” Owen asks, seemingly stressed out, “My parents are annoyed at me and need me home asap.” He rolls his eyes at the thought alone. I pat his shoulder and grab my electric guitar, so we can start rehearsing. “Let’s do Crooked Teeth?” I suggest, and both Jeremy and Owen agree. I can’t stop thinking about Emily though. She called me Charlie.

“Practice tonight?” Jeremy asks when we meet at school the following day. “Yeah, but after seven. I’m hanging out with Emily tonight.” Owen and Jeremy’s eyebrows raise simultaneously. “Like a date?” Jeremy wants to know. “No,” I reply faster than I wanted to. “No, I’m just going to hang out at the store, play my guitar while she cleans up.” My two best friends nod their heads in understanding. “You’re bringing your own guitar to the Music Store?” Owen questions. “No, uhm… There’s this one guitar I always play when I’m there and she called it mine last night, so…” Once again, I can’t withhold myself from smiling at the thought alone. “Is it that Fender CD-60 in black?” Owen asks. “Yeah, that one,” I reply. “That’s the one she was tuning when I went in the store to ask her about the Open Mic Night.” I raise an eyebrow at him. So it was her that tuned the instrument differently from how I did it last time I was there. “Might’ve been a coincidence though.” “Might be,” I say, nodding, not believing one thing. That was no coincidence. Either she did that to mess with me, or she wanted to play the guitar I always used because she missed hearing the sound while working. I’m kind of hoping for the latter, which also means she missed me. Kind of.

Emily hasn’t arrived at the Music Store yet. Only Ash is present, along with a dude I’ve never seen before. I wonder if he’s the other employee whenever Emily’s at school.

“Oh, hey! Charlie, right?” Ash approaches me when I’m about to grab my guitar.

“Yeah. Yeah, hi, Ash!” The woman is taller than me, her bright red hair cut into a pixie cut, and her eyeliner dark and defining. She looks really cool. “Emily not here yet?”

“I’m afraid not. She might’ve been just held up at school or something. She’ll be here soon.”

“Okay, good. I wanted to ask her something.”

“Like on a date?” Ash wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“What? No!” My answer sounds way too defensively. “I wanted to ask her something about music.” Now she has this face that just tells me she doesn’t believe one thing I’m saying. I wasn’t planning on asking Emily on a date. Not that I don’t want to. I just think it’s too soon. She’s just warming up to me, I’m not going to jeopardize that by asking her on a date.

“Ah, too bad. I think you’d be a great couple.” I manage to offer her a smile while my insides are heating up. “I actually wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“To ask Emily out?” I ask, totally confused and too focused on my body heating up.

“No, no!” she scoffs, “No, I wanted to ask if you would help me out and polish some of the guitars? Most of those are just there for display since we have the actual for sale ones in the back in stock, but they’re in dire need of a good polish and my new assistant is shit.” I widen my eyes, knowing he’s walking around here and heard that. “It’s my brother, I’m allowed to say that,” she whispers to me and winks, comforting me a little bit. “I don’t mind paying you for it?” The offer sounds compelling, but I’ve been playing their guitars for weeks without ever paying for anything except when I actually purchased something.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll do it for free. I’m here every day anyway.” Ash offers me a smile.

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m asking.” I open my mouth to say something else, but Ash has already turned back to her ‘shit assistant’. So, I close it and turn around to get to the guitars. I grab the one next to the black Fender, a mahogany Fender, when Ash brings me the polish to get to work. Which is also when the bell over the door rings, signaling a new client in the store. I look up to see if I’d recognize them from the neighborhood, and when I do, I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. It’s Emily. And with the low sun shining through the large windows behind her, she almost looks like an angel. She already has the voice for it.

“Hey, Charlie,” she greets with a wave.

“H-Hi, E-Emily.” I’m not sure why my mouth can’t form the proper words, but I’m struggling.

“Is Ash exploiting you now?” She points at the polish and the guitar in my hands.

“I mean, I’m here all the time anyway, so…” Emily raises an eyebrow before making her way to the cash register where Ash and her brother are fighting. Now I’m curious what she’s going to do since she didn’t really react to what I said.

“Are you exploiting kids for free now, Ashlynn?” She always uses full names when annoyed. Noted. Ash turns to face Emily, mid-conversation with her brother, her eyes wide.

“I didn’t pay you on Monday either because you told me you would do it for free, just as he said he’d do it for free. I’m just calling it a win-win situation,” she shrugs.

“He doesn’t work here though, I do. If I take non-paid hours, that’s my problem. He doesn’t work here. He has no contract. You know that brings both of you in trouble, right?” Ash’s eyes widen as if she’d forgotten about all of that since she’s been too busy with her brother. Deciding to hop into savior-mode, I hop off the bench I’m sitting on and rushing towards the girls. “I really don’t mind, Emily. If this means I get to spend time with you, I’d do anything.” Emily’s mouth curls up into a shy smile as her cheeks turn pink.

“Anything?” Ash asks with eyebrows raised.

“Don’t,” Emily says quickly, the tint in her cheeks not leaving, but the smile does, “even think about it. He’ll do the polishing while I clean up, but that’s it.” Ash wants to add something, but Emily gives her a sharp look that makes her shut up. “Now get your brother home.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” she salutes her employee before grabbing her brother by the sleeve and tugging him along through the store until they’re at the door. “Be good, you two!” she yells before shutting the door and leaving me and Emily alone.

“You really didn’t have to stand up for me to your manager like that,” I tell her while she gets behind the counter to sort things through. “Are you going to get in trouble?”

“No, I’m not going to get in trouble. Ash and I know each other very well and we talk shit to each other all the time. She told me I could always call her out on things I didn’t like,” she explains to me whilst sorting through some papers.

“Oh… okay!” I reply, not entirely sure what to say to that, “You still didn’t have to do that though. I don’t mind polishing guitars, especially if it means I get to spend time with you.” Emily’s face lights up again and I can see her looking at me through her lashes.

“That’s sweet, Charlie, but she still doesn’t get to just pick someone who comes here a lot and tell them to do something. Especially without a contract. You can get into a lot of trouble.” All I heard was “You’re sweet, Charlie”. I don’t really care what else she’d said. I’m sweet.

“Won’t you get into trouble for letting customers in after hours?” I ask instead.

“Do you

want

me to kick you out?” I shake my head vigorously, raising my hands in defense, lifting the guitar in the meantime.

“I’m just gonna…” I nod to the bench I’d come from.

“Yeah,” she replies, that mischievous smile cracking through her tough façade again.

While she handles a few last customers, I admire her from afar while polishing up the guitars. I can’t help but notice how her smile comes and fades with every customer. It’s her customer-service-smile, I can tell. A smile far from the ones she gives me. I also notice how she strains herself, trying to keep from rolling her eyes too much at annoying customers. Or how her lashes flutter whenever she laughs at something someone has said, which I’m sure is a fake laugh too because it wasn’t that funny. Or how she rubs her nose when she’s concentrating.

“UGH!” she groans when turning the little board to tell customers the store has closed for tonight. “People are so dumb!”

“How have you not punched anyone yet?” I ask her, trying to lighten the mood, but it only lands me a sharp glare. The glare only lasts for a second though, as if it was a reaction to what I said but then she realized who said it and softened.

“I have almost punched someone,” she says with a smirk, “On several occasions. Mostly when they’re middle-aged women, thinking they know what they’re doing.” I can’t help but laugh. I would also nearly punch middle-aged know-it-all women if I punched women.

“I admire your willpower to withhold yourself,” I compliment, which earns me a smile. A real smile. None of her customer-service smiles.

“You can stop polishing now,” she tells me. I open my mouth to tell her I don’t mind, but she stops me. “Please, stop polishing the guitars and play one for me. My work gets done faster with your music in the background.” I can feel my lips curling up at that. Maybe she did miss me the other day when she tuned my guitar.

“I’m actually working on a song,” I say while placing the last polished guitar in its place and taking the black Fender instead. “Maybe you could help me on the parts I think suck?” She opens her mouth, and I know what she’s going to say, so I quickly add, “I know you can’t write with me, but I just want your honest opinion, okay?” Her mouth closes and changes into a smile instead, which then changes into a lip-bite. It nearly sends me.

I strum the guitar and begin playing the chords I’ve been working on for a while now, then I start singing the pre-chorus and the chorus I have so far.

“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”

I watch Emily, who’s smiling while grabbing a broom to start sweeping up the place. I quicken the pace of the song a little.

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me”

Before I can continue with what I had, Emily chimes in with something better.

“Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”

I stop playing to reach for my notebook in my backpack.

“That’s way better than what I had,” I tell her, causing her smile to grow.

“What else you got?” she asks, not taking her eyes off the floor as she sweeps, but I know she’s really interested. Otherwise she wouldn’t ask. Emily is the sort of person, I noticed, who would only ask further if interested. If it doesn’t interest her, the conversation is over.

I play the same chords again and sing the next verse, hoping she’d complete it.

“We're all bright now What a sight now Coming out like we're fireworks”

Her voice is a little soft and hesitant, but I still hear it perfectly.

“Marching on proud Turn it up loud Cause now we know what we're worth”

I nod my head excitedly whilst grabbing my notebook again and writing down her lyrics.

“You’re really talented, Emily,” I tell her honestly, then go back to softly stroking the strings of my guitar. “I can’t wait until you let your creative juices out in the world and, you know, write with me. Properly.”

“This is all because of you, Charlie. Your words… I don’t know… They just perfectly flow with what I create in my own mind.” I’m stumped by that response. That’s exactly how I feel too. We fit so well together, songwriting-wise. It’s a pity we can’t do this more often.

“How can I convince you to join our band?” I blurt out without thinking, and it startles her too. At first, I think she’s going to shut me out again, call me Charles again, give me that scowl. Instead, she halts her sweeping and slowly looks up at me.

“I’m not sure… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to think about it.” I don’t think I was this happy when finding out we got a gig, but I jump up from the bench, leave the guitar on it, and run up to her, picking her up into a tight hug.

“I didn’t say yes, Charlie,” she says, laughing loudly. I slowly put her back on the floor. Our faces are inches away from each other. “I didn’t say yes…” she repeats but this time in a whisper. I’ve never seen her from up close like this. Her eyes glimmer and I finally notice the faint freckles decorating her nose and cheeks. My heart thumps in my chest, but all I can do is hope she doesn’t hear or feel.

“I know,” I finally reply, “But thinking about it is a start.” She stares at me for a while like I’m the only person on this planet for her. I’ve never felt anything like this. This feeling of feeling wanted, of feeling seen.

My lips part a little, my lungs not getting enough oxygen through my nose, and as I glance from her eyes to her lips and back, I swear she’s leaning in too. My eyes flutter shut when I see her eyelashes fluttering too. Her breath tickles my lips. It’s almost—

Our lips brush slightly when the bell of the store rings through the entire shop. Emily and I both jump apart, startled, like deer caught in headlights. The redheaded Ash gives us a sheepish smile when she realizes what she’s interrupted.

“I’ve interrupted a special moment, haven’t I?” she hisses, “I’m so sorry!”

“No!” Emily says defensively, which makes me turn my head towards her to see what she has to be all defensive about. “No, you’re fine. Nothing was happening.” Oof, ouch. That hurts.

“Okay…” says Ash, clearly not believing a word Emily says. “I forgot my backpack in the back.” She points to the door behind the counter before actually moving to go and get it.

“You can go home, Charlie. I’ll lock up with Ash,” Emily orders sweetly, suddenly very absent and withdrawn. As if nothing just happened. Like she said.

“Don’t you want me to walk you home?” I suggest, hoping she’ll say yes.

“Uhm, no, that’s fine. I’ll ask Ash for a ride. Thanks though,” she gives me a smile that’s supposed to be comforting, but really isn’t.

“Okay…” I mumble and turn to grab my backpack and place the guitar in its place. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Please, say yes, please, say yes.

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” she replies, “I mean, you do have a lot of guitars left to polish.” She points at the wall of guitars, offering me a teasing smile this time. At least she’s not sick of me or doesn’t find it too awkward what just happened a couple seconds ago.

“Right, yeah!” I chuckle, “Yeah, see you tomorrow, Emily.” I raise my hand in a wave and leave the store, hearing her shout a “see you tomorrow, Charlie!” back.

I’ve got no clue what happened just then. But I wanted it to last longer. I wanted it to last forever.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

#julie and the phantom #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #madison reyes #oc emily fox #charlie x oc #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina

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lightsupinthenorth · 5 years ago

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Read me like an open book part 2/2

Thanks a lot to the people who liked/reblogged the first part ;) I hope you’ll enjoy the second part as well :)

Part 1

Read on AO3

“Are you a drug dealer?” Steve asked him out of the blue, one day, as they were eating dinner.

Billy nearly choked on his lasagna and had to down half his glass of water to recover from it.

“Of course not! Where the fuck did that come from?” He asked, once he was done coughing.

Robin was laughing freely, either at Billy or at Steve (or at both).

“Well, I don’t know… The other day you told me you were working, and I went to the garage because I had some trouble with my car, but you weren’t there. And you keep going to Indianapolis, and you always come back with these big ass envelopes. And you keep buying us nice stuff… and okay, you always have an explanation for how you got the extra cash, but it’s… it’s weird, is all.” Steve summarized.

Okay, so Steve might have been more observant than most people gave him credit for. Thank God he hadn’t asked for him at the garage. Billy had asked Charlie, one of his old coworkers, to cover for him if Steve ever came by, but what if Charlie had not been there?

Robin was now staring at Billy, her eyes shining with mirth. It was so not funny! Billy was in deep shit.

“And the only explanation you can come up with is me being a drug dealer?” Billy asked to delay the answers he would have to give (and which he had yet to invent).

“Well… yes.” Steve admitted, with a frown.

Maybe Billy would have laughed too, if he hadn’t been in such a precarious position.

“Uh… I… Yeah, it’s just that the rich client from Indianapolis keeps asking me to come check his cars… that’s probably where I was when you went to the garage. And he always puts the money in envelopes. The guy’s weird, what can I say? He pays really well, hence the nice stuff I buy, so it’s not like I’m going to complain.” Billy explained, before stuffing his face with lasagna, just so the chewing would give him some time to think if Steve called him out on his bullshit.

Robin rolled her eyes but kept mercifully silent.

“Oh… alright. Sorry. That was dumb.” Steve said, pushing his food around his plate with his fork.

“That’s fine... I can see how I might have looked suspicious. I’m not a fucking drug dealer, though.” Billy grumbled once his mouth was empty.

“It did seem a bit far-fetched.”

If only Steve knew what Billy was really doing, the drug-dealing theory would probably not appear far-fetched anymore. Billy felt more and more guilty about lying to Steve, but he couldn’t tell him the truth. Steve would instantly know Billy was in love with him, if he did, and it would ruin everything. So, Billy kept ignoring the dilemma, hoping it would go away on its own. No such luck, so far.

A few days later, Billy came home with a book he thought Steve would like. He found him on the couch, drawing on a sketchpad Billy had never seen. Before he could catch a glimpse of the drawing Steve had been working on, Steve noticed him and snapped the sketchpad shut so hard that the noise echoed in the room.

“Hey, Billy, how are you doing?” Steve asked in a high-pitched voice.

Billy narrowed his eyes but chose not to question Steve on his suspicious behavior. He didn’t really have a right to, considering how he had been behaving himself.

“Good. I brought you a book, we can read a bit if you’re done with whatever you were doing.”

“Oh… yeah. That’d be cool. I… I am totally done with… with whatever I was doing.” Steve stammered.

“Cool.”

“Come here.” Steve said, patting his own lap.

Billy got the message and laid on the couch with his head on Steve’s lap. Steve started playing with his hair before he even started reading. His gentle touches made it hard for Billy to focus on the words, and he ended up tripping over them.

Steve didn’t stop touching him, nor did he react in any way to Billy’s stumbling. It made Billy suspicious, so he started saying something that had nothing to do with the book, using the same tone he’d use if he were still reading. Steve didn’t catch on.

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Billy asked in a conversational tone, so Steve would actually register he was being addressed.

He gave Billy his famous ‘deer caught in the headlight’ look.

“I… uh… I… wasn’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t get my mind off Long live the King. I don’t think I can focus on another novel right now.”

Billy sighed. He didn’t understand why Steve had loved the book so much. “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Steve shrugged. “I probably won’t be able to focus much on that either but knock yourself out.”

Billy would have gladly stayed there in peaceful silence while Steve was caressing his hair, but it would probably look dubious, so he reached out for the tv remote and put something at random before going back to his initial position.

Billy felt so safe and relaxed that he started dozing off. He tried to resist, so he could enjoy Steve’s hands on him for as long as he could, but he ended up falling asleep anyway, betrayed by his own body.

That night, Billy woke up from a wet dream and found the star of the said wet dream in the living-room. What was Steve was doing there at this late (or early, depending on how you were looking at it) hour? It had yet to be determined. Billy approached slowly, his bare feet not making a sound on the carpeted floor.

When he was a few meters behind the couch Steve was sitting on, Billy saw that Steve was finishing up a drawing… of a woman… a woman who looked like Billy’s mother. He gasped, before he could even think about staying discreet.

Steve jumped and whipped his head in Billy’s direction.

Billy instantly felt bad. Steve was often jittery, especially if he hadn’t gotten a good night of sleep (which he obviously hadn’t), and Billy should have known better than to sneak up on him.

“I’m sorry for startling you, Pretty boy.”

“Uh… it’s fine… I guess it’s too late to hide this from you.” He said, gesturing to the drawing before he got up from the couch to face Billy.

“’m afraid so.” Billy replied. “Is that…?”

“Your mom? Yes…” Steve’s voice was slightly shaky.

“But how?” Billy had no picture of his mother, and Steve had obviously never met her.

“I… Please don’t be mad… You know how you told me about almost forgetting how your mother looked like before Eleven showed her to you when she got into your mind at Starcourt?”

Billy nodded. He wanted to tell Steve he could probably never be mad at him, but he didn’t want to interrupt him for fear Steve would let his nerves get the better of him if he did.

“Well… I asked Eleven to show her to me, too. I… I wanted to do something nice for you, because you keep doing nice things for me… and I thought it was a good idea… after you told me you had nothing to remember your mom by… But then I got nervous… I thought that maybe you’d find it creepy that I saw one of your memories… so I didn’t actually know how to go about telling you.” Steve was speaking faster and faster until he finally stopped, leaving Billy’s head spinning.

Steve had asked Eleven to go into his mind just so he could draw Billy’s mother…

“Please, Billy, say something.” Steve sounded properly panicked.

Billy wanted to reassure him, but he still couldn’t find his voice, so he lunged himself at Steve.

“Oh…” Steve’s air was punched out of him. “Hey there, big guy.” He hugged Billy back with one arm, still holding the drawing in his right hand.

“Thank you” Billy whispered, as a few tears made their way down his cheeks.

“It was my pleasure.” Steve replied.

Billy separated from Steve and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand before he reached for the drawing.

“So that’s what you hid from me when I caught you drawing earlier?” That was more of a rhetorical question, really.

“Oh… uh. Yeah. Yup. Totally.” Steve answered.

He was looking at everything in the room but Billy, who was too engrossed in the drawing to question Steve’s peculiar attitude.

The next morning, Billy bought a frame for the portrait and placed it on his nightstand.

When Billy went to Indianapolis a few days later, he tried very hard to avoid his agent. He knew he should have asked for his mail to be forwarded to him in Hawkins instead of leaving it at the agency, but he had wanted to avoid Steve stumbling upon anything that would clue him to what was going on. Now Billy was reduced to lurking down the corridors with his precious envelope in hand, like a thief. He was blessedly out the door without having crossed paths with anyone he knew when he bumped into his agent a few meters down the street. Fuck his life.

Billy’s agent had been pestering him about agreeing to a book signing for weeks now. Billy liked her well enough, but she could really be a pain in the ass when she tried hard enough. He had always denied her request, not wanting to show his face to his readers, since Robin was the only person from his life who knew he had published a book. Also, everyone thought he was a woman because of the penname he had chosen. He had an inkling that some people wouldn’t react well to knowing a book written in the first person, in which the narrator was in love with a man, had in fact been written by a male novelist. The narrator was not gendered, which Billy had done on purpose. He was almost certain most readers had imagined a girl, but if they discovered the author was a man, they might question it. Billy didn’t really care about that, or at least he didn’t care nearly as much as he did about Steve potentially finding out Billy had written Long live the King, but it was a reason he had used with his agent to justify his many rebuttals.

“Trying to run away from me, are you?”

“Absolutely not.” Billy replied, with more confidence than he truly had.

“Right. So, what about that book signing?” She asked for the umpteenth time.

She was like a broken record.

“Like the last ten times you asked: no.”

Billy’s tone was firm, but it didn’t deter her. Oh no.

“But come on, your readers would be so happy to meet you. Don’t you think it’d be nice?”

Billy had received and kept receiving heartfelt letters from some of his readers, which made him realize his book had touched a lot of people. Of course, meeting these people would be nice, but it did not change his stance on the signing. It could not.

“Plus, you don’t have to really show yourself. Wear a cap and sunglasses, a wig, come in full drag for all I care. It doesn’t matter as long as you talk to the readers.”

“Wouldn’t that be… you know… weird?”

Who came disguised to their own event?

“Sure, but you’re an author Billy, you’re entitled to being at least a bit weird.” She assured him.

Maybe she was right…

“Okay…” He finally agreed.

“Okay, you’ll do the signing?” She asked for confirmation.

“Yes, I’ll do it.”

Billy regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but there was nothing he could do about it now. They were out, and his agent would never let him take them back. At least she wouldn’t pester him about it anymore. He wouldn’t relax too much, though. He knew her, by now. She’d find something else to annoy him with sooner or later.

He waited until he was back home to open the envelope containing the letters from his readers. He was eager to read them, as he always was. And he could really use some cheering up these days, what with his longing for Steve and the fact he kept lying to him and could barely deal with the guilt. That was why Billy had gone to Indianapolis despite wanting to avoid his agent. He had really wanted, almost needed, the letters.

He read them sitting on his bed, and when he found a drawing of the King that looked exactly like himself, Billy cursed loudly, in shock.

A knock came on his bedroom door a few seconds later.

“Billy?”

“Uh… yeah?”

Panicking, he hid the pile of letters under his bed sheet and didn’t have time to find something inconspicuous to do before Steve opened his door.

“You sounded… bothered, just now. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Never better.”

Never better? Why in the world had he said that? Had his brain gone to mush?

“Okay… that’s… good. What are you doing?”

“Uh… Nothing. Just chilling.”

This was a train wreck.

“Mmh… if you say so.” Steve narrowed his eyes. “See you later, then. When you’re done… chilling.”

“Right, see you, Pretty boy.” Billy forced a smile.

When Steve was gone, Billy unraveled the pile of letters again and took the drawing back in hand. He turned the sheet of paper and found a written paragraph on the back.

“I wanted to thank you for writing Long live the King. I loved it a lot, and I really related to your narrator. I have feelings for someone… someone quite like the King in your story. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have a happy ending like your narrator did, but at least your novel showed me how it could feel if I did. I’m not very good with words (sorry about the handwriting too), so I made a drawing to better express how I feel about your amazing work.

Thank you again,

S. H.”

Steve had drawn Billy as the King, crown included, and had sent it to the author of Long live the King without knowing it was Billy. He felt delighted, freaked out and guilty all at once. He needed a minute, or an hour. Oh Lord, this was such a mess. He should have listened to Robin and told Steve the truth a long time ago.

And he couldn’t believe Steve was seeing him that way. He imagined Billy as the King! How was that possible? Steve was the King all along in Billy’s mind. Billy was nothing like that. He wasn’t brave and kind like Steve, and by extension the King in his novel, was.

Billy stared at the drawing, in a daze. He appeared so beautiful on the paper…

Steve had some better version of him that lived in his mind, and he thought this version was the real Billy. But Billy was a coward. He was lying to Steve because he was too weak to tell the truth, to face Steve, too afraid he would lose him.

Instead of putting the drawing back in the pile of letters he had received, Billy carefully folded it and put in the pocket of his hoodie to carry it around with him, in a streak of masochism or a bout of sentimentalism (or a mix of both).

That evening, when Steve had left the living-room for a bathroom break, Robin whispered:

“You went to Indianapolis today, right?”

“Yeah…”

“You got the drawing?”

“You knew?!” Billy whispered-yelled.

“Of course, I was the one to suggest he sent it when I saw it.”

“Right. I should have known.” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Sure, thank me later, whatever. My question is, why aren’t you two making out like crazy right now? You’re head over heels for Steve, and now you know that he’s head over heels for you too. So, why haven’t you done anything about it?” Robin asked with a frown.

“I just… you’ve seen the drawing, Robin. Steve sees me as far better than I actually am… and if I tell him I wrote Long live the King and lied to him all this time, he’ll realize his mistake, and I will lose him.”

“Oh, Billy.” Robin gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know how to make you see how wrong you are.”

Billy shushed her, as Steve came back into the room. Robin sighed but didn’t say anything else and Billy relaxed a little.

He would keep on ignoring the problem and lying to Steve despite the guilt crushing him. At least, Steve was still his friend. As long as he had him by his side, Billy could deal with the rest.

About a month later, on Friday night, Steve insisted that Robin and Billy go with him to a stupid party.

“Come on, I promised Dustin we’d go with him and the others!” Steve pleaded.

“But why in the world did you do that, Pretty boy?” Billy asked, not looking away from the tv screen, even though he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening on it.

He had a few ideas on how to spend his Friday night, and going to a high school party was not one of them. Plus, he had to go to his book signing tomorrow. He couldn’t use that as an excuse to decline, though, for obvious reasons.

“He wants to impress the new girl, the one hosting the party, so he said he’d bring his cool older friends. I couldn’t say no!” Steve explained.

“Pff, the kid is delusional.” Robin replied, “I’m obviously the only cool person out of the three of us.”

“You used to be a band geek.” Steve pointed out.

“Yet, I’m still cooler than you, dingus, I wonder what that says about you.”

Billy rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t even argue about that.

“Whatever you say. Does that mean you’ll come? Apparently, the girl has an older sister who’ll also be at the party with a bunch of her own friends, so it won’t even be that weird if we go. It might be fun.”

“Sure.” Robin shrugged, flipping the pages of a magazine.

“Billy?” Steve asked, turning to him with a hopeful smile. “If you come, you can keep an eye on Max.”

Steve had a point. But Billy would have agreed anyway, just because Steve had been the one asking.

“Okay, okay. But you’ll owe me.”

“Sure, whatever you want.” Steve beamed. And really, he shouldn’t go around saying things like that.

Billy had to close his eyes for a second.

At the party, Billy mostly kept to the couch, sipping on a cup of punch. He’d have made conversation with Robin, who was also on the couch, but she was having a conversation of her own with one of the older sisters’ cute friends. Billy didn’t want to cockblock her, or so to speak, so he stayed in his corner like a loser. Parties weren’t really his scene anymore. It wasn’t as fun now that he barely drank.

Steve had been dragged God knew where by Dustin, and Billy felt lonely. He regretted whishing Steve would be back when he did actually come back, though. Indeed, Steve only came to Billy to ask him to play truth or dare so he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

“Absolutely not, Steve. What are we? Children?”

“Come on, please… I’ll owe you a second favor. Pretty please.” Steve joined his hands together and gave Billy his infamous puppy dog eyes. This was so not fair.

“Ugh, I hate you.” Billy lied.

“Thank you!!”

Billy wished he could be impervious to Steve’s pleading, as Robin was. Steve hadn’t even tried to drag her into the dumb game, already knowing that was a lost battle. She was so lucky.

Billy followed Steve but didn’t pretend he was happy about it.

“Wow, Billy, nice of you to grace us with your sunny disposition.” Max said as Billy sat down next to Steve with a scowl on his face.

“Shut up, shitbird. And no funny business.” He warned.

“What are you insinuating?” Max gasped, faking offense like the drama-queen she was. “I would never!”

“Shut up you guys, let’s start the game.” Henderson said. And okay, rude much? He would have never disrespected Billy that way when he was still afraid of him. At least not to his face. Good old times.

There had already been about ten teenagers sitting in the circle before Billy and Steve had joined. The nerd squad minus Will and Mike was here, as well as the hostess of the party and a few other people Billy didn’t recognize and didn’t care to. He wanted to ask Steve why they were the only grown-ups (or well, semi grown-ups at least) in the circle, but he was pretty sure he knew the reason already. Henderson had most certainly roped Steve into playing as some kind of wingman duty or some shit (Billy would have bet his life on it). So, Steve was here because he couldn’t say no to the nerds (especially Henderson), and Billy was here because he couldn’t say no to Steve, which was rather unfortunate in situations like this one.

The bottle mercifully didn’t fall on Billy for the first six spins. When it did, he picked dare and was asked to do a handstand by El, bless her pure soul. The others grumbled slightly, finding the dare boring, but no one protested too hard. She was very cute but could also be quite scary, and most people knew not to cross her. Thankfully, Billy’s shirt was tucked in so it didn’t slide down and reveal his scars. He was comfortable enough to display them around Steve and Robin, but it stopped there.

Billy thought he would be safe for a while after that. However, his evil sister wouldn’t have it that way. As Sinclair spun and the bottle fell on Steve, who picked dare, Max whispered something in her boyfriend’s ear. Sinclair tried to protest, but Max glared at him and his protests instantly died. He then sheepishly dared Steve to kiss Billy. He had said “no funny business”. What was wrong with Max?

Steve, blushing beet red, turned to Billy.

“Is it… is this okay?”

Billy should say no, because kissing Steve would just make everything messier, which was saying something, and also because he didn’t imagine his first kiss with Steve happening in front of a group of teenagers, among which was his very own sister. Then again, he had thought his first kiss with Steve would stay in his imagination, so maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Who was he kidding? There was no way he was saying no, despite his better judgement. He wanted Steve too much for that.

“Sure.” He therefore said, with a nonchalance he didn’t possess.

Steve put both his hands in Billy’s hair and gently slotted their lips. He could have just pecked Billy’s lips awkwardly and called it a day, but no. Steve had to try to kill him with softness. Billy had to use all his restraint and then some so he wouldn’t deepen the kiss and ravish Steve’s mouth, lest he scar their audience for life. When Steve broke the kiss and let go of Billy’s head, they were both breathing a tad raggedly. They stared at each other, and Billy nearly lost himself in Steve’s big dark eyes, but he was brought back to earth by Henderson clearing his throat.

Billy really wanted to shoot him a threatening look, but Max did it for him. It made Billy a little bit less mad at her.

The game ended soon after that. Thank God. And Billy and Steve decided to go home. They looked for Robin. When they found her, she didn’t seem too keen on leaving.

“You can stay the night. I’m staying too. There’s plenty of room.” The girl she’d been talking with for hours said.

“That sounds great! You’ll be fine to go home on your own, boys?”

Robin was only teasing, but Billy considered answering no for a second. Being alone with Steve right now would be pure torture. Billy would combust with longing.

“Of course, see you tomorrow. Have fun.” Steve said.

“Thanks.”

Steve was their designated driver for the night, which was stupid because Billy had barely drunk anything, and now he didn’t have anything to do with his hands and the awkwardness was killing him. They hadn’t even argued over what station to put on the radio. The radio was turned off, for God’s sake. They were not in their right mind.

Billy ended up turning the radio on about halfway through the drive, just to have something to do. Abba was on, and Billy didn’t even switch stations. What was happening to him?

They stayed silent until they reached the flat, where they bid each other good night before retreating to their respective rooms.

Billy sighed with relief (and maybe with disappointment, too, if he was entirely honest). However, he shouldn’t have believed he was already out of the woods: the door of his room flew open a few seconds later, revealing Steve (of course, who else could it have been?).

Billy opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he couldn’t get a word out before Steve’s lips were on his once again.

This time, Billy didn’t even think about resisting. He didn’t think, period. His brain was broken. Steve had broken it. His mouth still worked fine, though, and Billy kissed back eagerly.

They didn’t even take the time to get undressed before they tumbled onto Billy’s bed, momentarily breaking the kiss. Billy grinded his hips against Steve’s, making him moan and arch his back. Steve’s hands were back in his hair, lightly tugging on it. Steve reversed their position so he was on top and joined their lips again. He pulled harder on Billy’s hair, pulling a whine out of him in the process, and proceeded to devour his mouth.

Fuck, he really could kiss.

Billy didn’t last long the first time around (not that he had hoped he would). In fact, he came in his pants from the friction on his clothed hard-on, as if he were still a teenager. The thing was, Billy didn’t have much experience when it came to sex, contrary to what most people thought. He had given and received the odd hand job or blow job, but between Neil walking in on Billy and his first (and only) boyfriend, the move to Hawkins, the whole possession thing, the long recovery and falling in love with Steve, he hadn’t had many occasions to have sex. And he had wanted Steve for so long that something like this was bound to happen. It wasn’t Billy’s proudest moment, nonetheless, but he powered through the embarrassment and was quick to bring Steve to orgasm too, which reassured him a little.

Once the rush of desperation had passed, they slowed down considerably. Then, they were all soft touches, gentle hands and deep kisses. They fell asleep hours later, before dawn, sweaty and sated.

Billy had never felt so right. However, such blissful peace could not last.

When he woke up the following morning, Billy went through an emotional rollercoaster. First, he noticed that Steve wasn’t in bed with him anymore. Then, he found a post-it not on which Steve informed him he had left to get them breakfast. Billy smiled and instantly relaxed. It was only the first loop of the rollercoaster, though.

Indeed, when Billy looked for his clothes to get dressed, he couldn’t find his favorite hoodie. Steve must have borrowed it. After all, he loved nicking clothes from Billy.

Billy really didn’t mind. Seeing Steve in his clothes always warmed his heart.

But then, Billy remembered he had been wearing the said hoodie when he had received Steve’s drawing, and he also remembered putting the folded drawing in the front pocket. Oh Lord, no. He frantically searched for the pile of letters from the other day in his nightstand drawer, and Steve’s drawing was indeed not in the pile.

Billy all but ran out of his room. Maybe, if he found Steve quickly enough, he could prevent him from noticing the piece of paper.

He immediately knew it was too late when he stumbled in the living room. Steve was in one of the chairs, sitting ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest. On the coffee table in front of him, there were two paper cups, a bag of pastries from their favorite bakery, and, more importantly, the drawing.

Billy’s heartbeat went haywire. How was he going to make things right, now? He had been too much of a coward to talk to Steve, and now Steve had found out without him. It was a catastrophe.

Steve’s face showed no emotion, but his eyes were full of hurt.

“Steve…” Billy started before being immediately interrupted.

“How could you Billy? You knew how I felt all this time and you didn’t say anything. Don’t you care about me at all? Was last night just bullshit to you? And why the fuck did you sleep with me? Was it a pity fuck? Or did you think that I’d be an easy lay because I’m in love with you? What the fuck? I can’t believe you’d do something like that.”

Steve was asking him question after question but didn’t leave him an occasion to answer any of them. His voice was getting louder and louder, making Billy flinch. He wanted to cut in and explain himself, but his own voice failed him.

At the world bullshit, Billy winced, but still kept silent. When Steve said he was in love with him, Billy’s heart shattered. He had yearned to hear those words for years, but not like that. Never like that. He felt like crying, but for once the tears would not come.

Steve had gone from thinking too much of Billy to thinking too little. Billy had been hiding the truth from Steve, yes, but he would have never slept with him knowing how he felt if he didn’t love him too. Steve should know that. Billy would never be that cruel, and even less to him. How could Steve think even for a second that last night had only been about sex to Billy? Billy knew he lacked confidence ever since Nancy had broken his heart in high school, but surely he had to have felt the love their night had been filled with.

Steve, faced with Billy’s silence, got up to leave. Billy held him by the wrist and finally found his voice.

“Please, Steve, let me explain… I…”

“Save it.” Steve snapped, shaking Billy off before walking out the door and slamming it shut.

Billy had to sit on the floor, as his legs were on the verge of giving out. He had ruined everything.

He stared into nothing, his head filled with regrets and fears concerning what was to come. Had he lost Steve forever. Oh God. He had, hadn’t he?

The tears he needed to shed didn’t start flowing until Robin came home. She found him on the floor, sitting with his knees to his chest. As soon as she asked him if he was okay with concern etched upon her face, Billy started crying hard.

“Oh Billy, what is it? Where’s Steve?”

Billy tried to reply but he couldn’t speak through his sobs.

“Nothing happened to him, has it?” Robin asked.

“He… he… he hates me.” Billy managed to say in between heaving breaths.

“Billy, come on, he could never hate you.”

“He… he knows… I had the drawing...”

“So, he’s mad… but he doesn’t hate you. He’ll come around.”

Billy drowned in another wave of tears. Robin wouldn’t think that if she knew Steve and he had made love last night. Steve would never forgive him.

“I… I can go talk to him, if you want. Would that help?”

Billy nodded hesitantly. Maybe it would just make Robin hate him too, but she was probably his last chance to get Steve to hear him out, so he should give it a try.

“Are you going to be okay to go to Indianapolis on your own?”

Billy nodded again, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He wasn’t in a fit state to go to a book signing (in fact, he wasn’t in a fit state to do anything), but at least having something to do might take his mind off of his monumental fuck-up. He didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.

The book signing went as well as could be expected. Some people looked surprised to see a man, and some looked quite uncomfortable, but no one said anything outwardly rude to him, probably because Billy was a scary motherfucker without even having to try. He was intense, what could he do?

He tried to focus on the people he got to meet, and on what they were saying, but his mind couldn’t help but drift to Steve every couple of minutes. It was exhausting.

The event ended hours after it had been supposed to, which wasn’t surprising. It was always hard to estimate how long this kind of things lasted, considering the number of people participating could not be known beforehand. And Billy couldn’t possibly quit before everyone in the line had seen him. Some people had been waiting for several hours. He was not that much of a bastard.

As Billy was finally getting ready to leave, someone barged into the bookstore. When he heard the bell above the door jingle, Billy looked up and froze. It was Steve.

Had he come all this way to tell Billy he never wanted to see him again and that he should find another place to live? Wouldn’t he have waited for Billy to get back to the flat to let him know?

As Steve got closer, Billy noticed he was carrying a book. Was it… his book?

He stopped right in front of the table Billy was sitting at and placed the book on it.

“Hey”

“Hey…” Billy greeted him back tentatively.

Steve looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I… Could you sign it for me, please?”

“Really?” Billy asked.

He tried not to let his heart fill with hope, in case it was some kind of sick prank, but there was nothing to be done. The hope latched on too quickly to be stopped.

Steve nodded.

“I… I’m sorry for getting so mad this morning… Robin knocked some sense into me, and I realize I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I should have listened to you… No matter how hurt I felt.”

Steve was apologizing? To Billy? That didn’t sound right.

“I… I should be the one apologizing, Steve. I should have told you the truth as soon as I got the drawing… I should have told you before that even… I just…”

“It’s okay… you don’t have to explain now. We can talk things through once we’re back home… we have time… Just, just tell me one thing.”

“Anything you want, Steve.” Billy assured him.

“Well… at first, I didn’t even think about what you having my drawing meant… beside the fact that you know how I feel now… Then it finally registered that it meant you were the author of Long live the King… and Robin suggested that the book made it clear that you… that you had romantic feelings, for me. Was she… maybe… possibly… right? Is it true?” Steve asked, his voice so low that Billy had to strain to hear him.

Billy signed the book and handed it back to Steve before saying anything.

Steve opened the book to read what Billy had just written: “For my king, my light, my love, my everything”.

“Yes, it is. It is true. I love you, Steve.” Billy finally replied.

Steve beamed, making Billy’s heart flip.

“I love you too.”

Billy could fully rejoice in hearing these words, this time around.

He still had some explaining to do. But he hadn’t lost Steve. Steve still loved him. And he now knew Billy loved him too. The rest could wait.

“Let’s go home, Pretty boy.”

Thanks for reading :)

#Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #fanfiction #fluff #a bit of angst #first kiss #first time (non explicit)#Read me like an open book part 2

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littlebitoffanfic · 6 years ago

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Work Place Romance

Fandom: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Characters: Thomas, Luda, others mentioned Relationship: Thomas/reader Request (ish): So I originally started this as a request for a Thomas proposing request and this was the backstory. But I fell in love with the idea and decided to write it as a stand alone. Enjoy. You had heard of the Hewitt’s growing up, but never saw any of them other than Luda Mae, who had given you free lollypops when you came into the small shop she ran when you were a child. But her son, Thomas, was all but a mystery to you. He didn’t go to school like the rest of the children from the town and surrounding areas. He didn’t play out at the parks or in the fields. Occasionally, you would see him at the river, but never playing. He would normally be on the other side of the water, and you would wave happily to him. He’d return with a shy wave then leave to hurry home. But when he got the job at the meat factory, that was when you started to grow close to him. You were in HR, administration and payroll. If there was any office work, it got dumped on your desk with a snide comment to hurry up. When it came time for Thomas to join, he had to come see you so you could speak him through his contract, his hours, wage, holidays and any sickness leave. This hulking great man sat and listened closely to everything you had to say and you were surprised. Most men just rolled their eyes and snapped at you to hurry up, but Thomas listened and responded with nods when appropriate. You were pretty sure it was because you didn’t speak to him like he was dumb or an animal. You didn’t flinch or turn away from him in disgust or even fear. He started to gravitate towards you, making a point to walk by your office every day before he started and when he finished. 9 times out of 10, you would see him and wave good morning or good night to him. Once, he had fallen. It was another employees fault after they didn’t clean up some cattle blood on the floor and Thomas had been carrying some boxes. He slipped, fell, and had to go home. You had been on holiday for a few days, so when you popped into the little shop Luda owned and heard her and Charlie fretting about what they would do without the income for a few weeks, you stormed back to your office. After a 3 hours standoff with the owner and several employee handbooks and contracts being thrown about, he eventually gave you the okay to pay Thomas a sickness wage, plus compensation for his fall. --------flash back ------------ You wrote the cheque and got in your car. Driving up to the house, you saw a man outside leaning over a open car bonnet. “Excuse me? Is Thomas about?” You called, startling him as he hadn’t heard your car approaching over a radio. “Yeah, whos asking?” The man, you were sure his name was Monty, snapped at you. “My names [y/n], im from the factory.” You tell him and immediately see him relax a little. “Heard about you. Wait a minute.” He turned to the house. “LUDA!” You jumped a little as he called out for Luda but she came out fairly quickly, seeming annoyed to be summoned in such a way but immediately smiling when she saw you. “This young lady’s from the factory. Wants to see Thomas.” Monty filled her in. “Of course, hes just in here.” Luda retreats back inside, beckoning you to follow, which you did. Thomas was in the living room, sitting on the couch. You saw him try to move a little but wince in pain. Your heart broke for him. “Thomas, you got a visitor.” Luda called sweetly to her son who she was obviously dotting on. Thomas turned to see you and immediately went to stand, but both you and Luda stopped him by holding out your hands. “No, its fine.” You smiled, touched that he felt the need to stand up when you entered. You walked around to sit in one of the chairs while Luda leaned on the back of the couch.”Im sorry I didn’t come sooner. Im on holiday for another few days and I try to keep my distance from the factory when I can.” Your comment earned a small chuckle form Luda who shook her head. “Its fine, love. But how did you find out?” She asks and Thomas cocked his head to the side, obviously thinking the same thing. You had ran out of the gas station before her and Charlie had realised. “I overheard you in your shop.” You tell her and you see her face drop. Like many around here, money issues was an embarrassing subject and rarely spoke about outside of family. “I went back to the factory and watched the CCTV footage. There was blood on the floor, it should have been cleaned up or a sign put out. So that means it’s the company’s negligence. I had a little… talk with the owner, and hes agreed to give you sick pay along with some compensation for your injury’s.” You leaned forward and held out the envelope which contained the cheque and a small letter listing what was sick pay and what was compensation. Luda leaned forward and looked over Thomas’ shoulder, her mouth dropping open when she saw the figure. “That’s only up until the end of next month. If you need more time, come and see me. I can probably push for 6 months at the most. Im sorry you had to wait so long.” You apologies sincerely. If you had been there, you would have made sure Thomas knew what he was entitled to before he left so his family didn’t have to fret. You were angry that the owner thought he could just take advantaged of his employees this way. “Sweetie, you don’t need to apologies for anything. Thank you.” She quickly walked around the couch and wraps her arms around you. Even though you were still sitting, you couldn’t help but smile and return her hug. When she pulled back, she was smiling. “Will you stay for dinner? Please?” “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude. I know I came a bit unexpectedly.” You wanted to accept her invite but didn’t want to barge in on the family who were obviously so close. “Of course you can stay. We’ll set a place for you.” She smiles widely and hurried off to the kitchen to prepare dinner. “How are you feeling?” you asked Thomas, moving off the single seater to the sofa so you could sit beside him. He shrugged, moving his hand to his shoulder. You could see he was wearing a shirt, but the buttons weren’t fully done up. “Are you bruised?” you asked, and he nods and leans forward. He undoes 2 more buttons of his shirt and pulled it to the side so you could see. you gasp a little as you see the bruised flesh. When he had slipped, he had fallen to the side and his shoulder had taken most of the impact. The back of his shoulder and down was the worse area. It was his left shoulder, so he had a little benefit that it wasn’t his dominate arm but that didn’t make it easier. “Im going out to the city tomorrow. I’ll try get something to ease it. Do you have any pain killers?” You asked him as he covered his shoulder again. Your eyes glanced to the side of his neck. You could just see a small area of flesh which was exposed, showing the damaged skin that covered his face. On his shoulder, you had seen he had small areas that were indented, showing that the skin condition must cover his whole body but his face was the worse. It wasn’t till you were looking at him that you realised he was wearing his normal mask over his lower face. You found it strange that he wore it at home, but didn’t question him on it. Thomas reached to the coffee table beside the couch and showed you a half empty packet of paracetamol. “I’ll try get you something stronger. Paracetamol barely helps with my headaches so I cant see it doing much for your shoulder.” You reach out, stroking his upper arm. You could feel the muscles under his shirt tense a little at your touch. Luda watched silently from the door to the kitchen. She had never seen Thomas so comfortable with a stranger. ‘mind you’, she thought to herself, ‘shes not a stranger. He sees her nearly every day’. ---------------time skip ----------------- You pulled up outside the house in the early evening. The sun was still out but it was warm with a cool breeze. “Back again?” Monty called with a small laughter as he sat on the porch in a rocking chair. “afraid so.” You smiled back and Monty nods to the door. “Just head in. call out though.” He tells you and you thank him before grabbing the bag from your passenger side. You climb the stairs to the front door and nod at Monty as you pass him. “Hello? Its [y/n].” You call as you enter the house. You had left late last night after a loely meal with the family. But you had been up early for the drive into the city. It was about an hour and a half but sometimes the traffic on the way in and out was bad so you wanted to give yourself enough time. Glancing into the living room, you saw Thomas wasn’t on the couch. “Thomas?” you called out, the big house suddenly feeling very empty. That was until Thomas came out from the kitchen. He looked a little surprised but happy to see you once again as you made your way towards him. “I got you some stuff to help with your back.” He guided you to the kitchen and you placed the bag on the table in the centre of the room. “So I got some co-codomol.” You pull out the tablets, placing them down. “I wasn’t sure what sort of cream to get you so I got a few things for you to try. If you just do a little patch test first to make sure you wont react.” You place 4 different pots of cream on the table. You continued to pull out a hot water bottle, and ice pack and a few bars of your favourite chocolate. He picks one bar up, holding it up to you with a quizzical look. “When Im hurt or sick, it’s the only thing that gets me through.” You smile, laughing a little. You then pull out a small piece of paper with your number on it. “If you need anything, just let me know.” He takes the paper from your hand like you were giving him some kind of diamond which would shatter if he mishandled it. He couldn’t help but smile and nod to her in thanks. “[y/n]!” Luda called as she came in the door, Monty having told her you were here. “Will you be staying for dinner?” You couldn’t help but smile a little as you looked at Thomas. He nodded, his eyes begging you to stay as Luda came in the kitchen. “Yes, but you have to come round tomorrow.” You smile and Luda immediately inspects everything you had bought back. --------time skip -------------- You drove along the road, your eyes searching for the big hulking figure. It was going to be his first day back, but Luda had called you and said he had started to walk to work this morning. He had been off for 3 months, giving him enough time to heal, but that didn’t mean he was completely better. You couldn’t have that. So you said you would see if you could pick him up. Sure enough, you saw him walking along side the road. He didn’t normally take the road into work, usually keeping to the safety of the forest route to hid from people. But there had been a small bit of rain and the woods were muddy today. Putting your indicator on, you pulled up beside him. He jumped a little but relaxed when he saw you. “I’ll give you a lift.” You call when he silently questions why you were here. Opening the door, Thomas got into your car without further question. Your ac was nice and cool and the soft music coming from your radio relaxed him as you drove. “I can give you a lift home tonight. The only thing is I finish an hour after you, so you don’t need to wait about if you don’t want to.” You look at Thomas who nods. You weren’t sure if he was accepting the lift or wanted to respond while he thought about it. You didn’t push him. -------------time skip ---------------------------- The factory was now empty, apart from you, one of the managers and Thomas. You always locked up at night, which gave you a little quieter to finish your work in after the rest went home. Thomas had came to your office when he finished and saw in the corner while you worked away, chatting occasionally to him. “Don’t be too late.” The manager called through the door. “Wouldn’t want your husband waiting up for you.” “Haha, very funny.” You rolled your eyes but chuckled. Unlike the others, he wasn’t too bad. You saw Thomas sit up straight, his eyes darting to your left hand. “Im not married, if that’s what your thinking.” You glance up at Thomas as you heard the front door close, leaving just you and him. Thomas’ eyes darted to the door. “it’s a joke. So none of the guys try to hit on me.” You tell him as you stand up to file some stuff away quickly. You had become a much more permanent place in Thomas; life than before. You came and saw him 3 or 4 times a week and he waited anxiously for you. When he and his family went to yours for dinner, he had been all to happy to sit on the couch with yu and watch TV after. You slotted so perfectly into his life, into his heart, than he struggled to believe you were real. you felt the same about the man sitting behind you. He was sweet, and rather gentle despite his abilities. Luda had admitted to you than she could see how her son felt for you. She had told you than he watched for you coming and seemed to sulk when you left. This was enough to give a little more courage than you would normally have. “I think I’ll need to find a husband soon. Some of them are catching on.” You giggled, calling over your shoulder. You heard the chair scrap as Thomas stood up. Glancing over your shoulder, he walked up to you and stood behind you. His eyes were curious, so you decide to try and answer what he might be thinking. ‘why?’. “All the woman in town are married now. Might just need to find myself a husband. Someone big and strong.” You turned to face Thomas, biting down on your lower lip. Thomas towered over you and yet, you didn’t feel intimated. You knew you held the upper hand here and he wouldn’t do anything that would upset you. but you knew he wouldn’t have the strength or confidence, even if you wanted him to. “Hows your shoulder.” You reach up, resting your hand on his left shoulder. You allowed your hand to move in soft, slow circles and Thomas shuddered at the touch. You stepped closer to him, closing the gasp between you as your other hand rested on his chest. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, trying to not put too much pressure on his left shoulder. Once your hands were behind his head, you undid the mask which shielded his face. His eyes never left your own as he seemed unable to pull away from your touch. In fact, the only time his eyes darted away was when his mask fell away and you saw his face for the first time. He moved his head to the side, his eyes closing as if he couldn’t bare to see your reaction to his features. That was until he felt a soft palm on his cheek, and you guided him back to look at you. His eyes opened only for a moment to see the love in your eyes and he couldn’t contain himself. leading down quickly, he smashed his lips against your own. It wasn’t the soft and gentle kiss you had been expecting. You had expect to have to incited that as well, keeping it slow and soft. but you certainly weren’t complaining. His lips worked against yours in a desperate and needy way that made your head spin. It wasn’t like any other kiss you had had in your life. you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss which had set your world alight in the space of a few second. A feeling which you could quickly becoming addicted to. His arms locked around you and, before you knew what was happening, you were being lifted up. Thomas carried you to your desk, setting you down without breaking the kiss. you quickly spread your legs so he could step between them. one of your hands buried itself in his thick hair with the other travelled down from his shoulder to his chest to grab onto his tie. You pulled him closer, leaning back so you were lying on the desk, his large frame over you as you gasped for air between kisses. But you both broke apart when the phone started to ring beside you. You quickly grabbed it, knowing that if it were the owner, he would think you had gone home early. Glancing at the clock, it was only 5 minutes before you finished, but he would still yell at you for that. However, when you answered, it was Luda. “Is Thomas still there?” She fretted, obviously expecting him to have been home by now. “Yes, sorry. Im going to give him a lift back. I finish in 5 minutes.” You tell her, hoping she wouldn’t hear how out of breath you were. “oh good. Thank you.” She let out a sigh of relief then giving an apology for phoning you before hanging up. You placed the phone back down, looking up to Thomas was still leaning over you, but had propped himself up on his hands as he stared down at your fear in his eyes. you propped yourself up on your elbows, a soft smile on your lips. Thomas relaxed when he saw your smile. you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his check. He seemed to want to mirror your affection and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your neck. He paused there for a moment, worried he might have overstepped his boundaries, until he heard a soft sigh leave your lips as you leaned against him. The sound of the front door made Thomas jump as he twisted around, leaving you on the desk as he heard jogging footsteps approaching the office. He was prepared to protect you any way he could, until he saw a figure run right past the door. “Left your keys?” you called out into the hallway, making Thomas relax a little. “uh, no?” The voice Ricky called back, but he was lying. You heard him walking back, popping his head into the room and seeing Thomas standing in front of you. You had sat up properly and crossed one leg over the other, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see what happened. “Work place romance?” He asked, winking at you but you quickly flipped him off. “Remind me, how did you and Pamala get together again?” You asked, innocently. His face fell, remembering that he got her pregnant when she worked here. It was a scandal in the town. “well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nodded at Thomas and was quickly on his way. Giggling, you hopped off the table and approached Thomas. His hands were balled into fists which quickly loosened when you took his right hand in both of your own. “Would you like a work place romance?” You asked Thomas, looking up at him with doe like eyes. His gaze softened when he met your eyes and immediately nodded. “me too.” You smiled, unable to hide your blushing cheeks. You grabbed your bag and keys and the two of you left the factory, but not before phoning Luda saying you were running slightly late. Although this was a lie, you and Thomas would have to do a little sneaking about at the start. Who knows. Plenty of work lovers turn into the real thing. Although, you were pretty sure it was already real, it would be fun for a while to have a work place romance with your gentle giant.

#Texas Chainsaw Massacre #Thomas Hewitt #Thomas Hewitt/reader #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years ago

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Stay Ch. 16

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, and fluff, and feels oh my!

A/N: So yeah I swear I wroth an authors note for this... but idfk what happened.

ANYWAY! Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together. This one is also short and sweet (guess that’s the mood I’m in). However, y’all should know me by now. This is just the calm before the storm.

Hope you enjoy this one my pumpkins!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight@jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere@wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

March 2007

At some point in the last five months, you’d stopped recognizing yourself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t Y/N. Her hair was different, down to even the eyebrows. Her accent distinctly that of a life long Londoner. She worked for an independent UK couture fashion magazine, chose wine over whiskey, and was distinctly heterosexual.

When the chance to work this job requiring deep cover came up in December you jumped on it. You didn’t want to be you anymore. The you that couldn’t be with the woman you loved. The you that was heartbroken. The you who was beginning to doubt that you’d ever be happy. Fuck her.

Being Charlie Daniels was far better. She was, of course, a real person. Just one who was now living comfortably in the Bahamas courtesy of MI6. Even legit agencies had use of freelance talent every now and then.

Settling into her life had been easy. Not setting her boss on fire or blowing his brains out daily was a different task altogether. Turned out that a magazine was a great front for a crime empire. Lots of international travel, young and beautiful and desperate men and women, money exchanged in countless untraceable ways, on and on. And this fucker was happy to take advantage of every single disgusting avenue it opened up.

You almost had everything you needed to hand to MI6, get your obscenely large payout, and get on to another gig while they threw all of these bastards into cells to rot for the rest of their miserable lives. Just one more trip. After whatever horrible things they lay out in Tokyo you’ll be set.

Tokyo is one of those cities you can lose yourself in. Like New York but better for its interesting balance of vibrancy and grounded reserve. You absolutely love it.

The whole point of the trip, at least on the surface, was to focus on Fashion Week Tokyo. Honestly, there was a part of you that wished this was your world. Nothing but runway shows and after parties. Writing about the latest trends rather than delving into the inner workings of the worlds miscreants

Oh well. It was nice enough to pretend. You had to admit that you’d miss Charlie Daniels once you shed this skin in a couple of weeks.

You’re sitting two people down from your boss at an underground show. The level of security here screams that there are other things going on behind the scenes but it’s still a room filled with a who’s who of the Japanese and international fashion communities.

This was your third show of the day, and you knew there would be a party after where you’d have to schmooze all while plucking information from your unsuspecting fellow guests. You’re exhausted. So rather than pay much attention to the show you let your mind wander.

When she walks out you feel her rather than see her. Slowly you turn your head to stare dumbstruck at the model walking onto the catwalk. Your heart begins beating against your ribs, your mouth goes dry, your hands shake.

It takes every ounce of control you have to keep your emotions in. To not scream “Natasha!” at the top of your lungs. To not grab her and run for the hills. Charlie Daniels and her easy life be damned. It’s hard but you manage.

As she turns and comes back down, passing now closer to you, her eyes don’t graze the crowd at all. Head up, shoulders back, she walks the runway like she’d been doing it for years.

The rest of the show is maybe ten minutes but it feels like years. You know the models are all attending the party. Eye candy for the high end guests.

It’s fairly easy to ditch your coworkers in the crowd as you try to find the best vantage point in the room without being too obvious. After a solid twenty minutes, you find yourself planning an escape route. Most of the models are milling about but she’s no where to be seen. You will find her.

But you know you can’t skip out just yet. At the bar, you order a red wine and make yourself seen. Charlie would never miss the whole party after all. You spend a bit chatting with designers and a few models, feigning interest in the whole thing until you hear your boss call out to you.

“Oy, Charlie!” Carl’s voice alone makes you want to put him down. When you turn he’s waving you over to the bar. Sighing heavily you head over.

You’re about ten feet away when you see her, head back laughing at something Carl or his friend had said. Both men are far to close to her for your liking and the hungry look on Carl’s face sets your blood boiling.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and you carefully coach your face to not show disgust. “Charlie here is my best writer. Doin’ some pieces for us on this whole thing,” he waves his other hand around wildly.

“Good to meet ya, Charlie, I’m Dan,” the other man, clearly American says.

“Likewise,” Natasha doesn’t react to the accent at all.

“This here is-”

“Natalie,” Natasha cuts him off, extending a hand to you. Holding her eyes with yours you take it. It’s like touching a live wire.

“Natalie is an American model working here in Japan. May be a good topic for a piece.” He ribs you leaning closer, “And a good piece for the office eh?” Suddenly that MI6 money seems far less appealing.

“I’d love that,” Natasha beams. “Why don’t you guys go mingle and Charlie and I can chat!” The men exchange a glance, but there’s plenty of fresh meat around to sink their teeth into.

Carl flashes you a greasy smile and a wink as he walks away. Thinking clearly that you’re going to snare this woman for him. You, unfortunately, had a few others. Not something you were proud of. Demands of the job you told yourself.

“She’ll take a vodka neat,” you tell the bartender.

“Yes,” Natasha smiles at him, “Whiskey for her. Makers if you have it.” He thinks nothing of it and makes your drinks.

“So, how’s modeling in Japan?”

“Probably about as good as writing for a sleazy jackal.”

You laugh, “That bad? What’s the goal.”

“Getting a cover,” you commend the clever word play.

“That’s a good goal. Long term?”

“Something like that.” She takes a sip of her vodka, “How long are you here?”

“End of the week.” Your skin itches to touch her. The men are rounding back. You hold her gaze and shift your eyes back to them. She catches on.

“Perfect! It’s so hard to have a good interview here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come by my hotel?” You whip out your spare key card. “I’d love to get your story for the mag, maybe do a full feature.”

“A feature would be excellent exposure!”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carl slides up next to her. “We can get you all the exposure you could want Ms. Natalie.”

“Charlie was telling me all about it.” She flashes him a coy smile. “Thank you so much Charlie! I forgot I have a late fitting tonight for another show so I’ve got to run. But we’ll chat soon yeah?”

“Absolutely! It was so good to meet you Natalie.”

“Same! Bye!” She hurries through the crowded room and disappears.

“Busy girl.” Carl quips. “Whiskey?” You look down at the glass by your hand.

“Some guy sent them over,” you gesture to Natasha’s lipstick stained glass. “Seemed rude to refuse. Can’t stand the stuff though.”

“That’s a mans drink,” Carl laughs at his own perceived joke and you force a smile.

Somehow you make it through the rest of the evening. You’d refused to allow yourself to hope that she’d be here, too obvious to come the same night, better to wait. Kicking off your shoes you head straight to the mini bar and crack open a whiskey, downing it in one gulp.

“You really need to be more careful,” Natasha’s voice comes from the bathroom. “I mean not even checking around. Sloppy.”

“Charlie Daniels doesn’t have to check for Russian assassins in her bathroom,” a smile pulls your face so tight it hurts.

“Well, Natalie Rushman isn’t a Russian spy. So…”

You let your real accent resurface as you pull her into your arms, “Natalie Rushman, I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.” She kisses you hard, tongue sliding over your lips hands gripping your ass.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Kinda like the accent.”

“Oh?” You revert to the clipped posh Londoner sound. “Would you rather be with Charlie? I hate to break it to you, she’s strictly into dick so you may need to get a bit creative.”

Natasha’s head falls back with laughter, “I’m always into a challenge but,” she cups your face in her hands, “I’d much rather Y/N, she’s got a cute accent too.” Your kiss is soft this time, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey.” Gently you push a strand of hair out of her face. “Is this smart? Are you gonna get-”

“I’m good. I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was risk.” She pulls away and tugs you toward the bed. “There’s no surveillance on me here, I check in every week, that’s it. This is strictly to build a cover.”

“Cover for what?” She gives you a sideways glance. “Right. National security.”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

Smirking at her you push her back on the bed. “Maybe later.”

You lean down to her but she stops you by planting a strappy heel in the center of your chest. Trailing your fingers down her leg you snag a knife from her thigh holster. Carefully you slide the blade under the straps, the incredibly sharp edge cuts through the thin suede like it’s nothing.

“Those were very expensive you know,” eyes sparkling with desire.

You slip the shoe off and toss it aside. “I’ll buy you a new pair.” Your lips press against her ankle.

Everything in your life until her was so fleeting. Even your own name, the sound of your own voice, who you were… But with her, you were grounded. You weren’t anything but her’s, you were Y/N.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Caressing her muscular calf you just stare at her eyes. Emerald green, dark liner, lids heavy with lust and exhaustion.

“Natasha…” Your voice cracks and you fight for composure.

“Y/N? What is it?” She shoots up, cradling your face in her hands.

You shake your head, unable to really find the words and unwilling to send this storm of emotions to her. “I just…” You cover her hands with your own. It’s not that you don’t want her, you do. But…

“Can we just… I just wanna hold you…” Her expression immediately softens, eyes sparkling a touch with tears. “Sorry… I… I just…”

“I’d love that, baby.” Tenderly her lips brush yours, then your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids as they flutter closed.

You shed your clothes and crawl into the plush bed. Holding tight to one another you spend hours drifting in and out of sleep, covering the other with soft kisses. Before the sun rises your hands wander southward.

This time you don’t fuck one another senseless. It feels like you’re trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every subtle thing that marks being together. You both know you many not get to do this for some time. The knowledge aches but it doesn’t make having her any less sweet.

Post Snap

You lean your head back on the wall behind the booth. The crying man from last night is gone, you find yourself hoping that he’s resting peacefully somewhere… even though you know it’s pointless to hope for such things.

There are more people filling the bar than there was before. The TVs are off, radios turned up, reporters frantically trying to determine what happened. It was global, that was clear. All planes grounded, trains stopped, communications spotty due to damaged cell towers.

A man speaks frantically to someone who seems to be a friend that he was heading to Nuremberg from Budapest, how the roads are almost not navigable. He doesn’t know if his family is even still there but he has to find out.

Despite his distress, your lips curl a bit at the mention of Budapest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #queer fic #wlw

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chuffyfan87 · 5 years ago

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Hiding. Part 41a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention.

-x-

Duffy sat on the edge of the bath staring at the item in her hands. A sudden burst of rage bubbled up within her and she launched the item at the opposite wall, letting out a scream as she did so.

After hearing her scream, Charlie knocked once on the bathroom door and opened it slightly. “I take it it’s negative?” He asked, indicated her scream.

"What do you think?" She snapped.

He sighed, “Hey, we knew it was going to be a challenge.” He stepped into the room.

"Its been six months since we started trying. Ten months since you had the operation. What are we doing wrong?" She sighed.

“Nothing.” He smiled sadly, “It’s just not our time yet.”

"I really thought... This time... I'm a week late." She sighed, running her hand through her hair.

He sighed and held his hand out. “One day it’ll be positive.”

"I..." Her words were interrupted by a knock at the door. "That'll probably be mum. I said we could have lunch together."

“I’ll go and get the door.” Getting downstairs, opening it and smiling sadly at Kate. “Hi, come in?”

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

“Nothing Kate.”

"Well I have something to share with you that should hopefully bring a smile to your face!" She replied brightly. "Now where is that daughter of mine?"

“You have?” He smiled, “Upstairs, in the bathroom.”

"She's not unwell is she? She did look a little pale when I saw her the the other day." Kate asked as she walked into the hallway and Charlie closed the door behind her.

“No. We got another negative pregnancy test. It’s thrown Duffy badly.” He explained.

"She's getting so stressed about it all. That can't be helping." Kate sighed. "Why don't you go and get her whilst I make us all a cuppa?"

He nodded, “I don’t want her to make herself ill.”

"Don't worry, I have a plan to sort that!" Kate smiled as she went into the kitchen.

He went upstairs to get Duffy. “Your mum’s making us a coffee. I’ve told her about the negative pregnancy test.”

"You told her? Great!" She sighed.

“Go and talk to her?”

"Fine!" She stopped in the doorway. "Aren't you coming too?"

“In a minute.”

She sighed and walked downstairs. "Hi mum." She sat at the kitchen table, her chin resting on her hand.

“Hi darling. Where’s Charlie?”

"Upstairs. Said he'd be down in a few minutes."

“I have to wait for Charlie.”

The two women sipped their coffees in silence. The atmosphere slightly tense.

Charlie arrived in the kitchen, “Hi. Sorry, I was just finishing up in the bathroom. You wanted to talk to us both?”

"Yes. I wanted to give you this." Kate reached into her handbag and placed an envelope on the table. "Its plane tickets and accommodation for you and the kids to fly out on the first Monday of the school holidays to spend four weeks in Toronto. All you have to pay for is a hire car and food while you're there."

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Kate...” He didn’t know what to say.

"You deserve a holiday." The older woman smiled. "There's also some spending money for each of the children in there too."

"Honestly mum, we couldn't! How can you afford it?" Duffy asked.

“I’ve been saving for many years.” Kate smiled warmly.

"But that's for other things surely?"

“I wanted to give the two of you and the children something to look forward to.”

"The kids will be so excited." Duffy agreed.

“Thank you Kate.” Charlie said with a smile.

"So what shall we have for lunch?" Duffy asked. She was smiling but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked instantly, knowing there was something wrong.

"Nothing."

“Lisa?”

"Just leave it mum, please!"

“No. Lisa please tell me?”

"I don't want to. I'd rather just get on with my day rather than dwelling on my failures yet again."

“You’re not a failure!” Charlie replied.

"The test results would suggest otherwise."

“I told you. Getting stressed won’t be helping.”

"I'm not stressed!" She snapped.

Kate and Charlie both sighed.

"Oh please don't give me that look!"

“This isn’t helping babe.” Charlie kissed her cheek.

"Neither is you making out like you haven't had your test results back yet. I know you have because I've seen them!"

“We are both healthy adults. Our test results have come back fine! It just takes time. We’re not used to waiting.”

"Its alright for you, its me that'll be the one who gets the blame." Duffy shot back.

“Why? Why will I blame you?”

"Maybe not you but others will."

“Why will they blame you?”

"The woman always gets the blame in these things."

“Duffy, now you’re overthinking.”

"You honestly think no-one knows don't you?"

“You need to relax.”

"I see that same look on their faces too."

“What look?”

"Pity. Like I'm a failure."

“They don’t think that, at all!”

"That's coz they're not stupid enough to do it when you're there!" She replied, her agitation clearly building.

“They don’t think that, Duffy. Seriously.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I think you're getting a little paranoid Lisa." Kate suggested.

"Mum!" Duffy shot back angrily.

“We knew it was going to be tough, baby. But we also said we wouldn’t argue over it?”

"I'm not the one arguing."

He sighed. “Why don’t you and your mum have a nice afternoon together?”

Duffy rolled her eyes. "Fine, I can take a hint!" She stormed into the hallway to get her handbag and shoes.

He sighed and shook his head. He was just trying to help.

Kate rested her hand on his shoulder. "Leave her to me. I've had just about enough of her attitude lately myself!"

“She doesn’t mean to be so...” he paused, “Stroppy. She’s just upset. Blaming herself for us not conceiving.” He sighed sadly. “I wish I could make her pregnant. Make her... happy again.”

"It'll be OK. We'll be back at teatime."

He nodded, “I’m not making her very happy at the minute. Thank you once again for the trip. It might be what we need, as a family.”

"Hopefully it will be. A chance for all of you to spend some time together. There's a little something in there for young Louis too. Be sure to bring back plenty of photos - I want to see how much he's grown!" She smiled.

“Thank you.” He smiled, “So much for everything Kate.”

She squeezed his shoulder and left to follow her daughter.

After a while of walking they arrived at the park. Nothing had been spoken between them the whole way there. Finally Duffy could stand it no longer. "So what have you and Charlie cooked up together then?"

“Charlie and I haven’t cooked up anything together.” Kate replied.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

“I wouldn’t lie to you Lisa.”

"Wouldn't be the first time for either of you."

Kate laughed. “What’s on your mind?”

"What do you want me to say?"

“Everything.”

Duffy sighed. "I didn't think it was going to be this hard."

“It’s just going to take a little longer than you both anticipated, that’s all.”

"I just fear our marriage is struggling as a result." Duffy sighed. "And its all my fault."

“Have you shared those thoughts with Charlie?”

"And confirm that he was right all along?"

“I’m not following?” Kate frowned.

"It took so long to convince him because he was worried about the effect it would have on us and our family."

“He’s worries about you.” Kate replied.

"He shouldn't need to."

“He’s your husband.”

"I know that but..."

“But what?”

"I sometimes don't know how to react when he fusses over me so much." Duffy admitted.

“Because you’re not used to it?”

"I hoped that it would go away but I'm always going to be a screwed up mess aren't I?"

“No. Not at all.”

"They did quite the number on me didn't they?"

“Who did?”

"Andrew and my dad."

“They were both idiots.”

"Idiots who I thought cared about me. Shows how good my judgment is." Duffy sighed. "Do you mind if we sit down?" She asked, gesturing to a nearby bench.

“No.” Kate smiled as she sat down beside her.

Duffy let out a sigh as she sat down. She held her stomach with one hand as she opened her handbag with the other.

“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Duffy finally found the painkillers she'd been searching for. "Not if these cramps are anything to go by I'm not." She sighed. She swallowed back the pills. "I was so sure this time. I waited a whole week and I felt so sick yesterday. I was convinced!" She began to cry.

Kate pulled her daughter into a hug, “You will conceive. You never know, it might be on holiday. When you’re both fully relaxed.”

Duffy managed a watery smile. "I'm not sure relaxed Charlie will be in the same city as Baz but we'll see."

“Promise me one thing, Lisa?”

"What's that?" Duffy sniffled.

“That you and Charlie don’t let this divide or separate you both.”

"We're trying our best. Let's just hope that's enough."

“You loved each other dearly. Charlie thinks the world of you.”

"I don't know why but he does seem to doesn't he?"

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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jmvalerie · 7 years ago

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In response to @when-they-go-low ‘s post I was tagged in...

Idk what type of anons you are getting but I just want to set the record STRAIGHT about what I experienced with KJ during Riverdale Con in Chicago instead of doing a simple reply since this is a side blog and I have a lot to say to the folks trying to make mountains out of molehills.

(Please Note: I hate fandom drama like this but ever since I started live-blogging this con, I’ve heard and seen too many things and now that I don’t have wine and vodka in me, I can respond coherently)

1) We were told the moment we got in line for the photo ops that KJ would not be doing hugs or creative poses for photo-ops. Creation Ent. Staff was VERY clear about this and told people multiple times about this. Folks leaving the room even told others in line. So the people who tried to hug him or ask for certain poses did that without any consideration and thought they could be an exception to the ONE rule KJ had. Cole also had a ONE RULE during the convention: NO VIDEO PHOTOGRAPHY DURING HIS PANELS. So again, any videos with Cole in them, people decided “They can’t see me so I can do whatever I want!”. So as you can see, KJ was not the only person with a rule.

2) Though I did not ask for a hug I did ask if we could shake hands and he was happy to do so before we took our picture.

3) He was very nice during his two panels. During the Gold Pass panel, you could tell he was nervous but relaxed midway through and was laughing and smiling throughout. The Gold Pass Panel was calm and pretty quiet since we were all tired of the screaming fans from Cole’s panel the day before. The General Admission Panel he was more relaxed (he was done with all of the photo ops by this time) and just chewed gum and chilled throughout the panel. If he wasn’t comfortable answering something, Cole took over the answers for most of the panel. Which is why I think they decided to do a joint one with the two so he was more comfortable.

4) A rumor was going around at the con that KJ wasn’t having a great day so he may be slightly stand-offish. However, my interactions with him were really great and he was very nice whenever I talked to him.

5) My autographing session with him, which I have talked about on this blog, was chill and really great. He seemed excited to meet me again (once he recognized me) and talked about my hair. We chatted about food for a hot minute (shout out to the security guard and the staff for letting me talk to KJ for a minute) and then I left after saying thanks and safe travels. I heard someone asking him for a hug behind me and the staff said no very quick. As I walked away I heard her ask again.

Bottom line is, each celebrity is different. I’ve been to several cons (mostly huge ones) and celebrities has rules all the time.

Sometimes they will only sign certain things (JK Rowling ONLY signed Casually Vacancy when I met her and nothing Harry Potter related)

Some love to go all out and entertain you (Ricky Whittle has the “Whittle” experience where you can get his autograph, talk with him, hug him, dance with him, and take selfies with him)

Some will have whole ass conversations with you (Tyler Posey, his now ex-fiance, and I had a 10 minute conversation when no one was in his line. I now know where the best sushi place is in Santa Monica)

Some don’t talk at all except hi (Crystal Reed didn’t talk much when I met her and just smiled.)

Some do poses (Jared and Jensen LOVE doing it)

Some prefer not to (It depends on the day for Charlie Cox. James Earl Jones NEVER touches a female in his pictures with fans)

So as you can see, KJ simply asking for no poses or hugs is NORMAL HUMAN BEHAVIOR. Saying anything along the lines of “He is a celebrity so he needs to suck it up” or “It’s his job to give me a hug when I pay to take my picture with him” is inconsiderate. Celebrities are humans with limits just like we all do. There are days that I give my mom hugs and days where I’m not comfortable touching anyone no matter who they are. And when I’m around a celebrity, NO MATTER HOW MUCH MONEY I PUT DOWN TO MEET THEM, I know that being respectable and showing you respect their limits is key for an excellent interaction.

Just like us every day people pick up signals from strangers, celebrities do the same. The reason why some took KJ’s behavior as “rude” and others didn’t have any problems with him could be him reacting to the vibe of a person(s), environment, or current situation.

We tend to forget that celebrities are human too. Weeks before Joan Rivers passed away, she mentioned that celebrities come from all different walks of life. That one thing people forget is that they struggle, they eat, they sleep, they cry, and they have anxiety just like the rest of us. Sure taking pictures and meeting fans are part of the business but you also have the right to put up limits just like you do in the real world.

This was long and I was rambling a lot but I’m pissed off with people sending hate towards KJ.

One last thing: I had a conversation with the staff before I left the con.

One of the convos we had was talking about KJ. (Please note: I’m in marketing and I do events so I know how much staff love feedback). I asked if he was okay and they said some celebrities get nervous in these settings but they don’t want to let fans down. The convention people just try to make sure that THE CELEBRITIES experience is just as smooth as the attendees so that they would continue to come back. They said he was very humble and also slightly shy but extremely excited about the convention and meeting his fans.

So this message is for all fan encounters (not just KJ): RESPECT THE CELEBRITIES AND THEIR LIMITS JUST LIKE YOU WOULD WANT OTHER PEOPLE TO FOR YOU.

*drops mic*

#moni rambles #kj apa #idk what y'all experience but through my prescription glasses things looked differently #RESPECT #text post

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astridxreyes · 6 years ago

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W H O A R E Y O U?

ASTRID REYES

AGE: 28 APPEARANCE: Astrid rarely wears makeup and, when she does, she wears a bare face kind of "no makeup" makeup look. She likes fashion and likes experimenting with clothes, but often is seen in more plain jane clothes in an attempt to blend in (ex. t-shirt, jeans , sweaters, white sneakers). GLASSES/CONTACTS? She has glasses that she occasionally wears, but only to help her blend in as a "human" who needs reading glasses. TATTOOS? She has a matching tattoo with her friend Liv (who she accidentally turned into a harpy) that says "to infinity" across her rib cage (here); A couple of watercolored little birds on her right collar bone (here); stay gold tattooed across her left wrist (here); a tattoo that says 'but without the dark, we'd never see the stars' on her left upper thigh (here); a little anchor on the back of her neck (here); and a little elephant on the back of her ankle (here). SCARS OR BIRTHMARKS? Astrid has a couple different scars on her body. She has some scars on her hips and her wrists from TW: self harm; Her left wing doesn't tilt exactly right and a has a scar across from it; she has a tiny little scar that can barely be seen across her right temple. RICH OR POOR? Astrid grew up in poverty and although her adopted family is very wealthy, she lives a lower middle class lifestyle not wanting to borrow money from them. SPECIFIC TICK OR MANNERISM? She fidgets with her hair when she's nervous, often switching up her part from one side to the other or fidgeting with the hem of her skirt or shirt as she talks to people; she also has a tendency to rock back and forth slightly on the balls of her heels and nibble on her bottom lip.

P E R S O N A L I T Y ?

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

“I don’t really know if I believe in perfect happiness anymore, but I guess if I had to pick I’d say that moment when I just forget where I am. When the world around me fades away and I just can exist without the past or... fear of the future.” If she had to pick a specific moment, she knew it would have been when she was flying, high above the trees, far away from any source of people whom she could hurt, where she could just sing to her hearts content, letting the wind kiss her cheeks.

What is your greatest fear?

Being found out, being sent to prison or even worse, transferred. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the shit out of me, excuse my language, to be sent somewhere- anywhere- away. But, I think the part of me that scares me more is what would happen to my family- the Reyes who took me in when they didn’t have to- and my friends like Liv. I did this to her, I scratched her. I turned her. I ruined her life and, because of me, she might end up spending the rest of it behind bars. And Damien- he already lost so much. I wonder if he’d even look at me again if I ruined what was left of his family, Astrid couldn’t help but think. But, she wouldn’t ever dare mutter it out loud.

What is your biggest pet peeve or trait you deplore in yourself?

“There’s kind of too many to list. But, I guess if I had to pick I’d say just not feeling able to be myself? Or even really knowing who I am? I sometimes see other people around my ages, fooling around laughing and letting loose. You know, those people who are the focus of every group they’re apart of, who make you laugh out loud and are just magnetic? Those people who everyone can’t help but be drawn to? I see them and I get jealous, so freaking jealous, because I can never be like that. And it’s not just because-” Because she was undeclared. “I just- sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my own body. In my own skin. Like no matter who I’m around or what I do, I’m on edge and petrified of being myself, of letting people in, of getting hurt again, of having someone take something of mine that wasn’t theirs to take. I hate that I don’t feel safe, that I haven’t felt safe since I was like 10 years old and will probably never feel safe again and- and I hate when I look at these bright amazing people, I know deep down that I’m not one of them and I probably never will be, I guess...”

What is your biggest pet peeve or trait you deplore in others?

“I don’t know? I don’t really know if there is one. But, maybe being entitled? Those people who feel like the world belongs to them and everything is for their taking even if it’s not?”

Which living person do you most admire?

“I have two. My mom and dad. My adopted mom and dad. They took me in and gave me everything. Not just a home, but a family even if it was far from easy. They’re kind of the coolest people in the world and I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

Which living person do you most despise?

“I don’t know if he’s alive anymore, but...” Charlie...

What is your greatest extravagance?

“College? I only went for a year and a half before it was just too much to keep paying for on my own, but it’s definitely the most I’ve probably ever spent on anything.”

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

“Maybe faith? I don’t just mean in the ‘higher power’ sense. I mean just hope. Believing that everything is going to be okay, even if the world is falling apart at the seams?”

On what occasion do you lie?

“I kind of lie everyday, now-a-days. About who I am? Where I came from? But, I guess I lie the most when I tell people ‘I’m fine’.”

“What is the quality you like most in a significant other?

“Optimism? Or maybe humor? If someone can make me smile or let my walls down, they’re a-okay in my book.”

Do you have a catchphrase? Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

“Maybe ‘Gosh Darn it?’”

Who or what is the greatest love in your life?

“Fiyero Tigelaar. And if you know who that is, then you probably know why.” She’s a little theater nerd and fell in love with singing and the stage.

When and where were you happiest?

“The first time I flew across the lake. I kind of had a whole Harry Potter riding a hippogriff, moment. It’s was pretty awesome.”

Which talent would you most like to have?

“Shapeshifting would be pretty cool, but I’d settle on getting over my stage fright?” Or singing without the possibility of accidentally paralyzing someone or knocking them out... Kind of puts a damper on being a broadway star and all.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Being Declared without having to go to jail, would be pretty cool? She couldn’t help, but think.

If you could pick up and go anywhere, where would you most like to live?

“Just get me anywhere in Europe with a backpack and I’ll be happy.”

What is your most treasured possession?

“My Hello Kitty backpack. It’s silly and cheesy, but it’s all I’ve got from before I ran away, so...”

What do you value most in your friends?

“Faith, trust, and I have yet to find someone with pixie dust, but that would be cool too.”

Who is your hero of fiction?

“Elle Woods. She got into Harvard. You know, not like it’s hard or anything.”

What historical figure do you most identify with?

“Amelia Earheart. She was the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean and she just never let anything hold her back. I don’t know if I’m anything like her, but I want to be.”

What is your greatest regret?

“Not getting out fast enough when Charlie... when I was turned.”

What is your life’s motto?

“If you’ve seen Warm bodies-”

Would you describe yourself as being an optimist or a pessimist?

“Optimist. I’d say I’m a glass half full type of person, but I drink water too fast to have half of anything left.”

Introvert or Extrovert?

“Introvert aka a not so closeted loner... I really should get that on a t-shirt.”

How do you hope others will see you?

“Hooman?”

How are you seen by others currently?

“Nice? Which I kind of hate by the way. I mean being nice is great and all. At least, I’m not the devil or anything, even if our pastor might disagree if he-” learned the truth. “But, in my experience, nice is kind of the go-to-word to describe someone you know nothing about.”

How do you see yourself?

“Like Tracey Turnblad shoved inside a scrappy filipina body.”

How do you react to praise?

“Last time someone complimented me, I’m pretty sure I flailed my arms and made a sound that could best be described as an awkward dinosaur noise? So not great.”

How do you react to criticism?

“I thrive in it. My self-esteem loves being taken down a notch. But, in all seriousness, I try to prove them wrong and often end up doing something I’ll probably regret like doing a weird rollerblade dance routine to Stayin’ Alive. Clearly, one of my finer moments.”

Do you often make snap judgements or take time to consider?

“I’d like to think I’m a rational thinker, but... did I mention the Staying’ Alive boogy dance? On Roller blades?”

Do you think you lead more with your head or your heart?

“Bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum... I was trying to make a heart sound and the second I did, I instantly regretted it.”

When was the last time you cried?

“When half of the ice cream in my cone fell on the ground. What? It was a very traumatic experience.” Even, though she knew it was actually when her parents asked her if they could adopt her. Happy tears.

What is your guilty pleasure?

“The Bachelor franchise. It’s like watching a car crash. It’s horrifying, but you can’t look away. That or singing to show tunes in my car at the top of my lungs when no one’s watching or sitting in the taco ball parking lot eating a quesarito while... also listening to showtunes. And then I end up ordering dominos and make the deliver guy knock on my window like I’m doing some shady drug deal when in actually it’s just for cookie brownies and those parmesan bread knots... I have a lot of guilty pleasures.”

When was the last time you showered?

“This morning and every morning like a hygienic person?”

Are you the type of person who talks in the movie theater?

“No. Unless it’s a horror movie. Then, you’ll find me curled up in my chair, peaking through the cracks in my fingers covering my eyes, screaming at the characters not to go in the room and asking them why in the world they’d be asking if anyone’s home when they hear a creepy noise upstairs, as if the killer is just going to respond with ‘oh hi love! I’m just making myself a sandwich. But, don’t worry. I’ll be down in a giffy to kill ya.’”

Are you more of an indoor cat or an outdoor bird?

“I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane-” (Cue Five for Fighting - Superman) She’s an outdoor person.

Are you a fan of Harry Potter and, if so, what would be your Hogwarts house?

“Honey badgers don’t care.” She’s a huge Harry Potter fan and a Hufflepuff all the way.

Do you like superheroes and, if so, which character is your favorite? DC or Marvel?

“Yes! And Kitty Pryde aka Shadowcat.”

Did you used to play Pokemon? And if so, what be your starter Pokemon?

“Yes! And in the versions I’ve played, Squirtle and Piplup.”

Star Wars or Star Trek? Or neither?

“Both?”

If you were in the Hunger Games, what would be your game plan?

“Hide?” Hide until I get caught and then fly up real high or sing until anyone who tried to attack me gets stunned so that I can escape?

If the zombie apocalypse happened today, how would you defend yourself?

“I’m a goner anyways, so...” ZOMBIE HARPY HERE I COME!

What’s the first thing you do when you’re home alone?

“Slide across the floor like I’m Tom Cruise in Risky Business while singing ‘What Dreams are Made Of’ into a hairbrush like Hillary Duff.”

What is the most overplayed song you listen to?

“Defying Gravity or Satisfied. Can you tell I used to be a theater kid in High School?”

Do you believe in a thing called love? (cue the Darkness song…)

“I believe in a thing called love Just listen to the rhythm of my heart There's a chance we could make it now We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down I believe in a thing called love Ooh!...

too much?”

Do you believe in love at first sight?

“No. I believe in lust at first sight, but when you think about the cliche disney fall in love moments- Prince Charming couldn’t even recognize Cinderella when she didn’t have a big ball gown on and, in Snow White, which also was Prince Charming funny enough... he was kind of a stalker and necrophiliac? And yeah... I don’t know if I want that personally.”

If you could travel to any period in time, future or past, where would it be?

“I’m kind of happy now, to be honest. Even though I wouldn’t mind reliving the early 2000′s again?”

Have you committed a crime?

“Who? Me? Nooooo.... Never....” I’m literally undeclared so... you do the math?

If you could commit a crime and get away with it, what would it be?

I’d like to continue being undeclared without being caught, thank you very much.

If you found yourself trapped in an elevator with a group of strangers, what would be the first thing you’d do?

“Panic? I’ve seen Tower of Terror and I have no want to be the little girl in that movie.”

#shadowprompts #shadowprompt1 #bio

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impressivepress · 4 years ago

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The Great Dictator movie review (1940) | Roger Ebert

“The Great Dictator” was the last time Charlie Chaplin played a little man with a mustache.

In 1938, the world's most famous movie star began to prepare a film about the monster of the 20th century. Charlie Chaplin looked a little like Adolf Hitler, in part because Hitler had chosen the same toothbrush moustache as the Little Tramp. Exploiting that resemblance, Chaplin devised a satire in which the dictator and a Jewish barber from the ghetto would be mistaken for each other. The result, released in 1940, was "The Great Dictator," Chaplin's first talking picture and the highest-grossing of his career, although it would cause him great difficulties and indirectly lead to his long exile from the United States.

In 1938, Hitler was not yet recognized in all quarters as the embodiment of evil. Powerful isolationist forces in America preached a policy of nonintervention in the troubles of Europe, and rumors of Hitler's policy to exterminate the Jews were welcomed by anti-Semitic groups. Some of Hitler's earliest opponents, including anti-Franco American volunteers in the Spanish Civil War, were later seen as "premature antifascists"; by fighting against fascism when Hitler was still considered an ally, they raised suspicion that they might be communists. "The Great Dictator" ended with a long speech denouncing dictatorships, and extolling democracy and individual freedoms. This sounded to the left like bedrock American values, but to some on the right, it sounded pinko.

If Chaplin had not been "premature," however, it is unlikely he would have made the film at all. Once the horrors of the Holocaust began to be known, Hitler was no longer funny, not at all. The Marx Brothers, ahead of the curve, made "Duck Soup" in 1933, with Groucho playing the dictator Rufus T. Firefly in a comedy that had ominous undertones about what was already under way in Europe. And as late as 1942, the German exile Ernst Lubitschmade "To Be or Not to Be," with Jack Benny as an actor who becomes embroiled in the Nazi occupation of Poland.

Chaplin's film, aimed obviously and scornfully at Hitler himself, could only have been funny, he says in his autobiography, if he had not yet known the full extent of the Nazi evil. As it was, the film's mockery of Hitler got it banned in Spain, Italy and neutral Ireland. But in America and elsewhere, it played with an impact that, today, may be hard to imagine. There had never been any fictional character as universally beloved as the Little Tramp, and although Chaplin was technically not playing the Tramp in "The Great Dictator," he looked just like him, this time not in a comic fable but a political satire.

The plot is one of those concoctions that makes the action barely possible. The hero, a barber-soldier in World War I, saves the life of a German pilot named Schultz and flies him to safety, all the time not even knowing he was the enemy. Their crash-landing gives the barber amnesia, and for 20 years he doesn't know who he is. Then he recovers and returns to his barber shop in the country of Tomania (say it aloud), only to discover that the dictator Hynkel has come to power, not under the swastika, but under the Double Cross. His storm troopers are moving through the ghetto, smashing windows and rounding up Jews (the term "concentration camp" is used early, matter-of-factly). But the barber's shop is spared by the intervention of Schultz, now an assistant minister, who recognizes him.

The barber (never named, just like the Tramp) is in love with the maid Hannah (Paulette Goddard, Chaplin's estranged wife at the time). And he is befriended by his former neighbors. But he and the disloyal Schultz are eventually put in a concentration camp, and then Hynkel has a boating mishap, is mistaken for the barber, and locked into the camp just as the barber and Schultz escape -- with Hynkel's uniform. Now the barber is assumed by everyone to be the dictator.

In the classic Chaplin tradition, the movie has a richness of gags and comic pantomime, including Hynkel's famous ballet with an inflated balloon that makes the globe his plaything. There is a sequence where five men bite into puddings after being told the one who finds a coin must give his life to assassinate Hynkel. None of them want to find the coin and there is cheating, but eventually -- see for yourself. And there is a long, funny episode when the dictator of neighboring Bacteria, Benzini Napaloni (Jack Oakie), pays a state visit. Napaloni, obviously modeled on Mussolini, eludes an attempt to make him sit in a low chair so the short Hynkel can loom over him. And when the two of them sit in adjacent barber chairs, they take turns pumping their chairs higher than the other. There is also a lot of confusion about saluting, and Chaplin intercuts shots of the two dictators with newsreels of enormous, cheering crowds.

In 1940, this would have played as very highly charged, because Chaplin was launching his comic persona against Hitler in an attempt, largely successful, to ridicule him as a clown. Audiences reacted strongly to the film's humor; it won five Oscar nominations, for picture, actor, supporting actor (Oakie), screenplay and music (Meredith Willson). But audiences at the time, and ever since, have felt that the film comes to a dead end when the barber, impersonating Hynkel, delivers a monologue of more than three minutes which represents Chaplin's own views.

Incredibly, no one tries to stop the fake "Hynkel." Chaplin talks straight into the camera, in his own voice, with no comic touches and only three cutaways, as the barber is presumably heard on radio all over the world. What he says is true enough, but it deflates the comedy and ends the picture as a lecture, followed by a shot of Goddard outlined against the sky, joyously facing the Hynkel-free future, as the music swells. It didn't work then, and it doesn't work now. It is fatal when Chaplin drops his comic persona, abruptly changes the tone of the film, and leaves us wondering how long he is going to talk (a question that should never arise during a comedy). The movie plays like a comedy followed by an editorial.

Chaplin (1889-1977) nevertheless was determined to keep the speech; it might have been his reason for making the film. He put the Little Tramp and $1.5 million of his own money on the line to ridicule Hitler (and was instrumental in directing more millions to Jewish refugee centers). He made his statement, it found a large audience, and in the stretches leading up to the final speech, he shows his innate comic genius. It is a funny film, which we expect from Chaplin, and a brave one. He never played a little man with a mustache again.

And now a memory. In 1972, the Venice Film Festival staged a retrospective of Chaplin's complete work, with prints from his own collection. On the closing night, his masterpiece, "City Lights" (1932), was shown outdoors in Piazza San Marco. The lights were off, the orchestras were silenced for the first time in more than a century, and the film played on a giant screen to standing room only.

When it was over, and the blind flower girl could see again, and she realized the Little Tramp was her savior, there was much snuffling and blowing of noses. Then a single spotlight sprung from the darkness and illuminated a balcony overlooking the square. A little man stepped out and waved. And we cheered and cheered.

Roger Ebert · September 27, 2007.

#film #Film Review #Charlie Chaplin #adolf hitler #the great dictator #roger ebert

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afraidof-thedark · 5 years ago

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CASE DETAILS

The Black Hope Cemetery

Just outside of Houston, Texas, is a neighborhood filled with upscale homes and manicured lawns. In the early 1980s, Sam and Judith Haney settled in at the far western edge of the development. Sam described it as their dream home:

“When we bought the house in Newport, it was the house that we had always been looking for. So, it was the house that we intended to stay at for a long period of time.”

But there was a morbid secret about the Haney’s perfect home, one that soon turned their lives into a never-ending nightmare. Sam said it all began when a mysterious old man showed up at their door with an ominous warning:

“This elderly man told me that he had noticed that we were putting a swimming pool in our backyard and that there was something about our backyard that I needed to know about. So I followed him around to my backyard and he pointed at the ground and said that there are some graves right here. And he marked a spot on the ground where they were. And I really didn’t know how to react to that. I didn’t know if he was just joking. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to joke about something like that.”

Using a backhoe, Sam decided to see if the man’s alarming claims were true. Sam says it wasn’t long before he hit something:

“And at that point, we stopped with the backhoe and we got down into the hole and continued digging by hand. There were pine boards. When we lifted up the first board, we could see an indentation of a skeleton form. It didn’t take long to figure out that it was actual human remains.”

Sam immediately called the Sheriff and county coroner who conducted an official exhumation. Most of the bones had turned to powder. But 25 fragments were found, some so brittle that they disintegrated when touched.

A second coffin, located alongside the first, hadn’t been disturbed. Inside, two wedding rings were discovered on the frail index finger of the exposed skeleton. Judith Haney was mortified by the discovery:

“They handed me the rings and it was sickening to think that I had desecrated somebody’s grave.”

Wanting desperately to do the right thing, the Haneys decided to find out whose remains were buried in their backyard. The search led them to a longtime resident named Jasper Norton.

Years earlier, Norton had dug several graves in the area. He told the Haneys that their home and a dozen others were built on top of an old African American cemetery called Black Hope. The deceased were mainly former slaves. The last burial was in 1939, and as many as 60 people were interred there in paupers’ graves.

Jean decided to dig for the bodies

The two people buried in the Haney’s backyard were Betty and Charlie Thomas. They died during the 1930s and their graves were eventually forgotten.

Judith and Sam Haney made an extraordinary decision. They reburied Betty and Charlie in their yard, and prayed their spirits would rest in peace. But, according to Judith, peace was not forthcoming:

“There was a clock in my bedroom and one night it started sparking and putting out a sort of blue glow.”

When Judith checked the clock, she found that it was unplugged. That was only the beginning of the Haneys’ ordeal. On another evening, Sam went to work the night shift, leaving Judith alone:

“I heard the sliding glass door open and I heard what I thought was Sam saying, ‘What you doing?’ Everything was quiet, the sliding glass doors were locked, and I thought, ‘Well, you know, you must be losing your mind. This really must be getting to you.’ But much to my amazement that’s not where the story ended. In the morning I awoke, went in my closet to get my red shoes, and I could not find them anywhere.”

Sam backed up Judith’s story:

“So, of course, I started looking for them and went through all of her closets where she normally puts things. And we just couldn’t find them. We had walked just a short distance from where the gravesites were and I could see something on the grave. And they were both side-by-side like someone had just picked them up and carried them over and laid them down on the gravesite.”

Even more disturbing to Sam was the realization that this was Betty Thomas’ birthday:

“And I kinda got the feeling that it was like Charlie was giving Betty a birthday present.”

Judith felt she knew what was going on:

“I began to come to the realization that this was not all in my mind and that this had to have some relationship to Betty and Charlie’s graves being disturbed. Their spirits were saying, ‘This isn’t right.’”

The Haneys were not alone. A dozen of their neighbors also reported lights, televisions and water faucets turning on and off, and unearthly sounds and supernatural apparitions. Worse, these bizarre events were becoming malicious.

Like the Haneys, Ben and Jean Williams thought that they had found their suburban paradise when they moved into the same neighborhood. But Jean said she never felt at peace in the house:

“After we moved, in everything changed. When I tried to plant new plants, they just would not live no matter what I did. You know, fertilizer or whatever, they still would not live. And I constantly had a foreboding feeling, a feeling of things are not right or something bad is about to happen.”

The Williams said that near their flowerbed, sinkholes appeared in the unmistakable shape of a coffin. The Williams would fill them in, only to have them reappear a few days later. The Williams also felt their ideal home was being invaded by a menacing presence. Random shadows slid along the walls, followed by whispered words and a putrid smell.

At the time, the Williams’ granddaughter, Carli, lived with the couple. During the blazing heat of summer, Carli said she would stumble into bone-chilling pockets of ice-cold air:

“It would be very, very chilly and you’d have this feeling of foreboding, or just, you know, like something wasn’t right. Anywhere in the house you’d have a feeling that you were not alone. Somebody was watching you. It terrified me to be in the house by myself. The toilets used to flush on their own. As the water went down I could hear, it was almost like conversations. You could hear people murmuring to themselves. It was a presence or spirit or something there. Something that wanted to be heard. Wanted me to know that it was there.”

Jean Williams had no doubt as to the source of the disturbances:

“I absolutely believe that all of these things happened to us because we were on the graveyard, and that we were simply going to be tormented until we left there.”

Ben said he and Jean debated what to do next:

“Me and Jean, we talked it over. And she said, ‘Well what can we do? Walk off and leave it?’ She said, ‘We ain’t got enough money to pay down on another home.’ I said, ‘We’ve always been fighters. We’re gonna stay right here and fight it and try to beat it.’”

According to Ben, it wasn’t long before he got his chance:

“I came home from work around ten after twelve from the midnight shift, and I walked straight to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and that’s when I seen these two ghostly figures. And they went straight backwards into the den. And then they started heading right down the hall to Jean’s. And it was standing right about a foot and a half from the end of the bed. The only thing I really thought of was, ‘They ain’t messing with me wife.’ As I dove through it, I felt a sticky cold sensation in my body.”

Down the street at the Haney’s, Judith said the disturbances caused her life to unravel:

“I was crying all the time. I was frightened. I was scared of doing my daily routine in my own home.”

The Haneys decided to fight back in court. They sued the builder for not disclosing that their home was built over a cemetery, in part, so that everyone would know what was happening at their subdivision. A jury awarded them $142,000 for mental anguish. But a reversal ruled on legal grounds that the developers were not liable. The verdict was thrown out and the Haneys were ordered to pay $50,000 in court costs. Sam Haney recounted the total cost of their ordeal:

“At that point we decided to file bankruptcy. All in all, we ended up losing the case, losing the money, losing the house.”

The Williams also explored legal recourse. But they say that they were told that without definitive proof of a cemetery on their property, nothing could be done. It was then that Jean made a decision that she will forever regret:

“That was the last straw. You want a body? I’ll show you a body. So, I thought to myself, I can dig about two feet a day and I knew I would reach a body.”

But soon after she started digging, Jean felt ill. Her adult daughter, Tina, volunteered to finish the job. After digging for a half hour, Tina also fell ill. Carli Karluk was there that day:

“I remember her saying that she was, that she felt funny. She was getting dizzy as well. She put the shovel down and she went back inside. And she just laid down on the couch. She’s like mom, daddy, I don’t feel right. There’s something wrong. The last thing I remember her saying was, ‘Mommy, take care of my baby, take care of my baby.’ And she looked so scared.”

While waiting for paramedics to arrive, Jean tried to keep her daughter conscious:

“Almost immediately her eyes started glazing over. And I was talking to her, trying to talk her out of dying. ‘Please Tina, talk to me.’ And all this time her eyes were changing until they got to the point where I knew that she wasn’t responding at all.”

Tina had suffered a massive heart attack. Two days later she died. Jean burdened the blame:

“I realize that I had desecrated another grave and now I’m paying. I told Ben, ‘We have to get out of here. It doesn’t matter what we lose, what we had.’ And I knew that if we didn’t, that I was not going to make it, because my fight was gone. I could fight no more.”

The Williams escaped to Montana and later moved back to another house and another neighborhood in Texas. Today they are a happily growing family, no longer plagued by mysterious noises, horrific apparitions or heart-breaking tragedies.

Back in their old neighborhood, none of the current residents have reported any paranormal activity. No one has ever

#unsolved mysteries #black hope curse #texas #black hope #haunted

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anniekoh · 7 years ago

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elsewhere on the internet speaking up, listening/learning, and #metoo

BETRAYED AT THE POLLS, EVANGELICALS OF COLOR AT A CROSSROADS (Deborah Jian Lee, April 2017 at Religion Dispatches)

“We’re at the part of the story where Jesus goes into the temple and flips over tables.” As a growing number of minorities redefine their associations, many have chosen to see white evangelical spaces as their “mission field,” but not their source of spiritual nourishment.These days, SueAnn Shiah just gets angry during church sermons. Still, the Taiwanese American congregant at a conservative, white church in Nashville, remains committed to serving on the church’s racial justice committee because she believes she can help dismantle racism within her community. She just goes elsewhere for spiritual development.One Sunday, she left the sanctuary mid-sermon, upset because her pastor was not addressing current injustices impacting vulnerable communities. She scrolled through Twitter, where most of her spiritual discussions have migrated. There she read some revelatory tweets about a friend’s Sunday school conversation about how the slaughtered lamb in the prodigal son parable represents the oppressed. “Someone else screws up and I’m the one who has to pay for it,” she recalls reading. It gave her a new perspective on the familiar passage and she thought, “Oh wow, I got more out of these three tweets than I did out of sitting in church for two hours.”

Why Big Neville Southall and his twitter account are an example to us all (Tristan Cross, Oct 2017, The Shortlist)

[H]e puts pay to the convenient, lazy and inadequate excuse that those ‘of a generation’ are unable to comprehend relatively new social concepts, and shouldn’t be expected to. Nobody expected Neville Southall to have an innate understanding of trans issues, but it speaks volumes of his character that, on encountering them, his natural impulse is to be inquisitive and compassionate, to recognise that the gap is in his own knowledge and to do all he can to amend this. How many others react incredulously to basic advances in political correctness, as if concepts of tolerance they weren’t previously aware of are an affront to them, contrived specifically to catch them out and frame them as bigots? It shouldn’t be the case, but Southall’s endeavours to rectify his ignorances set him streets ahead of his peers

...

Whenever I come across these things, I don’t think I have Neville’s appetite for curiosity - or openness to risk looking ‘a tit’ - as a default. I think I often read around these things, if only to spare myself the embarrassment of saying something that could be deemed offensive. In fact, that’s probably the main way I imbibe this stuff - witnessing others being called out, and being thankful it wasn’t me. That’s not really the point though, is it? Managing to prevent yourself being insensitive as self-protectionism isn’t the same as a sincere effort to understand and empathise with an experience you’d never considered before. As Nev shows, people aren’t trying to catch you out, and are more than happy to help if you demonstrate a good-faith readiness to learn.

An incomplete list of all the men in the media who have wronged me (Emily Reynolds, Oct 2017, Medium)

Someone we both know sends me an unsolicited picture of his penis, immediately following it up with a jaunty email introduction to someone capital-I Important. Whether or not the blatantly transactional element of this exchange was as clear to him as it was to me, there was an unmistakable subtext. If I allow things to happen to me — or more accurately, if I allow things to happen in my general direction, because it’s not really about “me” in any sense other than the fact I fit the mould of “young” and “woman shaped” — I will be somehow rewarded. I’m not expected to be proactive about anything; I’m not expected to send pictures of myself, I’m not expected to meet up with this man. It’s a test. All that’s required of me is passivity: I ignore the dick pic, or at least what the dick pic means, I say thank you for the introduction. I use it to further my career, we both pretend it was an act of selfless kindness, and I don’t let the general public know the man is a cheat or a creep.

This, according to Charlie, is wrong. Rather than passively accepting something that feels an awful lot like sexual harassment, I should apparently Do Something. Never mind that this person is older than me, and more well known. Never mind how well-connected he is in our industry, how effortlessly he could crush my career under his heel at any sign of dissent. The email introduction didn’t just say “this is a transaction that you have been forced to undertake”, it also said “I am giving you something; I can take something away too”.

But understanding this as I do — as many women who have been drawn into the orbits of older, more powerful men understand it — does not translate. Charlie calls me ‘cynical’ and ‘mercenary’ for taking the introduction and not immediately condemning the picture. I can’t express to him how impossible it would be to “call someone out”, can’t express how emotionally draining and potentially personally devastating it is to “call someone out”. He doesn’t understand this — as he doesn’t really understand his ex-girlfriend’s harassment, and never really will — because unlike me, he has nothing to lose. He’s much older than me, he has a career; a career so much less precarious than mine that he often considers just jacking it all in for a bit. He can do this because he has things I don’t yet have: a reputation, a name, money, experience. Yet somehow, with all of this, he thinks that by failing to stick it to the establishment I’m also failing as a feminist and as a woman. He doesn’t realise that despite his posturing and his endless mentions of female friends and how badly they’d been wronged by men, he has much more in common with my harasser than he does with the harassed.

“Mindfulness” and “Happiness” are a distraction. Shouldn’t we be speaking about Refuge? (Edwin Ng, Oct 2016, Buddhist Peace Fellowship)

In speaking of promise, encounter, relationality, and responsiveness, I am thus not just referring to Buddhist practice when I say “refuge.” Rather, I am speaking about the basic conditions of safety which allow every “you” and “I” and “it,” humans and nonhumans, to invite from one another — and gift to one another — mutual recognition, respect, care and concern.

... Proponents of a commercialized, individualistic and therapeutic approach to mindfulness rely on a reductive claim: that mindfulness is simply a universal quality of attention or way of being. Thus rebranded, mindfulness is sold in the spiritual marketplace as a tool for the pursuit of happiness, indivisible from the related hawking of ideas like resilience, innovation, productivity, and success.

But given the need to become responsive to the structural and systemic injustices and inequalities that may be glossed over by universalizing claims, I wonder if speaking about the promise of refuge instead might help us to pay attention more responsively and responsibly.

Take for instance Google’s popular mindfulness program. By all accounts, it has been very successful in helping employees manage stress and perform better at work. Mindfulness, we could say, is helping participants of the program find refuge and create a space of refuge for one another. But we have also seen that the systemic and structural workings of corporatism prevent Google from being responsive to the social problems it is implicated in, like gentrification. Thus, the promises it makes in the name of “mindfulness” and “happiness” remain inhospitable to the plight of those who are struggling to find refuge in affordable housing.

... there can be no refuge unless we entrust ourselves to the situational capacity for responsiveness: a promise which entangles the self with others and the world in response-ability.The promise of response-ability attends first to grief and loss and harm, not happiness.

#elsewhere on the internet

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adambstingus · 6 years ago

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Here’s What The Stars Of The Internet’s Most Famous Memes Look Like In 2018

Since its inception in 1990, the World Wide Web – invented by computer scientist Tim Berners-Lee – has revolutionized humanity. We now shop online, order take-out online, study online, look through photo albums online, make travel arrangements online, game online, talk, gawk, and stalk online!

In fact, I couldn’t imagine having to do so many daily tasks without the internet. I wouldn’t have survived university by actually reading books, and I could never get through my Christmas shopping without Amazon. But perhaps the biggest change is the way we communicate with one another.

From email to MSN to MySpace to Skype to Facebook – it is now easier than ever to start a conversation with somebody on the other side of the planet. Social Media has allowed us to chat with our friends and family, keep up-to-date their lives, and even plan parties and events without sending one thing in the post. It’s truly made the world a smaller place.

And following the rise of social media in the noughties, we have seen many “trends” come and go – with some becoming iconic, and others more… moronic. For example, everybody out there now converses using emojis, and every year people genuinely get excited to see what new emojis the next updates will bring (here’s looking at you redheads). We’ve seen positive challenges, such as the Ice Bucket Challenge, raise millions for charity, and we’ve also seen a slew of idiots eat detergent in the Tide Pod Challenge.

But if there’s one thing that has stayed around far longer than anybody would have ever imagined, it is the humble meme. If you’re truly out of the loop, a meme is defined as “an image, video, piece of text, etc, typically humorous in nature, that is copied and spread rapidly by Internet users, often with slight variations”.

Basically, they’re funny pictures and videos of relatable things, often with a funny caption. And over the years, the subjects within these memes have become unintentional celebrities… for doing absolutely nothing except having a sharable expression. Now, we’re taking a look at these very modern stars have changed since being immortalized on the web.

1. Success Kid (Sam Griner)

Never before has a child epitomized the feeling of success more than Sam Griner. After his mom, Laney Griner, uploaded the picture to Flickr in 2007 (yes, it really was that long ago), she never thought she would have turned her young son into a viral star.

Sam was actually trying to eat the sand when the picture was taken, and Laney originally captioned the image ‘I Hate Sandcastles’, but his triumphant expression soon transformed him into the ‘Success Kid’.

2. Side-Eyeing Chloe (Chloe)

In one of my favorite videos on YouTube, Chloe and older sister Lily are surprised by their parents with a trip to Disneyland. However, whilst Lily starts to cry in delight when the camera pans to Chloe, she stares straight into the lens with a “WTF is going on?” expression. It is hilarious.

Amazingly, Chloe’s expression transformed her into “Sid- Eyeing Chloe”, the perfect meme for when people wanted to express their unimpressed disbelief to whatever was going on in the world.

3. Disaster Girl (Zoe Roth)

She could have been a cast member from Village of the Damned with that demonic expression. However, a young Zoe Roth was not taking sick pleasure in the destruction of a house she had just burned to the ground, she was just enjoying a training drill by the local fire department two blocks away from her home in Mebane, North Carolina.

The picture was taken all the way back in 2004 by her father, Dave Roth, and now that Zoe is looking to complete college, she said: “I’d love for the meme to help me get into or pay for college somehow. But I ultimately want people to know me for me.”

4. Trying To Hold A Fart Next To A Cute Girl In Class (Michael McGee)

On March 2, 2014, Redditor aaduk_ala submitted a humorous picture titled, ‘Trying to hold a fart next to a cute girl in class’ to the /r/funny subreddit. It wasn’t long before his strained expression was seen across all of social media.

When asked whether he had any regret about his unexpected fame, McGee responded: “My take on being ‘internet famous’ is cool and all. But I regret not copyrighting the picture right away because I could have made a lot of money there!” Ironically, his expression would be my face if I were to discover that I could have made thousands of dollars by copyrighting one silly picture.

5. Scumbag Steve (Blake Boston)

I have so many personal memories of using this meme whilst at college. In fact, I became a “Scumbag Steve” after waking up my dorm friend every two weeks at 6 am because I needed to use his printer.

The first known time this image was posted on Reddit was January 21, 2011, and it wasn’t long before a commenter in the Reddit thread identified the young man in the pic as Blake Boston (also known as “Weezy B.”)

In an interview with Know Your Meme, Blake revealed that the picture was originally taken by his mother. “I have no regrets in my life… no matter what I do. I can completely f**k up on something and I still don’t regret it. Because at the end of the day, that makes me who I am, so I wouldn’t go back and erase anything, if I were to go back in time.” I think we can all agree that Weezy B. is a very cool guy…

6. Overly Attached Girlfriend (Laina Morris)

Back in 2012, Justin Bieber asked his dedicated followers to enter an online sing-off competition in order to promote his celebrity perfume ‘Girlfriend’. In response to this, YouTuber Laina Morris uploaded a simplistic webcam video in which she performed a parody version of Justin Bieber’s single ‘Boyfriend’, with her own personalized lyrics.

Morris’ over-the-top expressions immediately led to her face being used to symbolize the ‘Overly Attached Girlfriend’, but sadly, she did encounter several issues regarding her fame: “Strangers were finding my personal Facebook page and talking to my friends. They were finding where I worked and trying to access my college records”.

7. Good Luck Charlie (Mia Talerico)

Actress Mia Talerico’s exaggerated “I don’t know” face from an episode of Disney’s Good Luck Charlie has taken comments sections by storm. And thanks to her charismatic acting, the nine-year-old now has over 1 million followers on Instagram.

I’m 26 and have under 400. Where did it all go wrong?

*I don’t know*

8. Bad Luck Brian (Kyle Craven)

Fake News! Did you know that the guy in the picture is not actually called Brian? His name is Kyle Craven. Used to symbolize bad luck, the very first use of Craven’s image was first posted on January 23, 2012, by his long-time friend, along with the caption “Takes driving test .?.?. gets first DUI.”

9. Ridiculously Photogenic Guy (Zeddie Little)

I think we can all agree that we have never looked this good whilst exercising. When I’m at the gym, my expression closely resembles that of when I’m perched on the toilet.

However, Zeddie Little, AKA “Ridiculously Photogenic Guy”, was snapped running in the 2012 Cooper River Bridge Run whilst looking impeccable. Literally better than I’ve ever looked in my life.

When asked about his newfound fame, Little responded: “I really don’t know, but I kinda feel honored to be part of a joke that’s in good spirit because sometimes the Internet can be a little vicious or jokes can get bent the wrong way. But these are all kinda, for the most part, positive. It’s funny that everybody is kinda taking like to it. It’s, I guess, the most flattering way to get spread across the Internet.”

10. Ermahgerd (Maggie Goldenberger)

For those of you out of the loop, “ermahgerd” is a rhotacized pronunciation of “oh my God”, in order to recreate the speech of a nerd (sorry Maggie).

This meme first emerged on March 14, 2012, along with the caption: “Just a book owners smile…”. The girl in the meme, Maggie Goldenberger, said that the picture was created in fourth or fifth grade when she and her friends seriously got into playing dress-up. It’s good to see she’s got a sense of humor about the whole thing, because I can think of about 734 pictures of me from high school that could have been used in the exact same way, and it would have destroyed my life.

11. Grumpy Cat

There’s a face only a mother can love.

Grumpy Cat – the appropriate nickname given to Tardar Sauce – is an always-moody-looking snowshoe cat that rose to fame after several pics of her annoyed facial expressions were posted to Reddit in September 2012. According to Huffington Post, Grumpy Cat now has a reported net worth of $100 million! That’s right, this cat has more money than you ever will.

12. First World Problems (Silvia Bottini)

Amazingly, this is no bog-standard stock-image model. Silvia Bottini is actually a relatively successful Italian actress.

13. Blinking White Guy (Drew Scanlon)

This perfect GIF originally came from a live stream shot back in 2013, when Drew Scanlon was a video producer at the popular gaming website Giant Bomb.

During one of the team’s weekly “Unprofessional Fridays” shows, Scanlon watched as the editor-in-chief played Starbound, a two-dimensional action-adventure game.

However, things got a little awkward when Gerstmann said: “So I’ve been doing some farming… with my hoe.” Scanlon reacted with the bewildered expression now known as the “Blinking White Guy”.

14. Hipster Barista (Dustin Mattson)

Even though this meme has become more appropriate for every year it has existed, it was originally uploaded to in August 2011! However, the guy in the picture, Dustin Mattson, has not seen the funny side:

“I do find it discouraging and disappointing that there was so much exposure brought to an attempt at making a joke of a culinary industry and the professional barista. To me, it’s very telling on how we laud farm-to-table food, craft beer, cocktail mixology, but it’s ok to have no respect for the specialty coffee world and the people who are committed to it. On the other hand, the whole thing only makes me want to work harder at my job, make better coffee, serve my customers better, and bring more positive exposure to both the company I work for, the barista profession, and specialty coffee as a whole. If anyone were to see my and my coworkers’ work in the café, they’d see that it doesn’t quite match up to most of the jokes made against the ‘Hipster Barista’.”

15. Doge

I’m just going to put this out there: I love Doge.

Back in February 2010, a Japanese kindergarten teacher called Atsuko Sato posted several photos of her rescue-adopted Shiba Inu dog Kabosu to her personal blog – it is something we have all done. However, unlike with me and my Yorkshire terrier, Sato’s photos went viral and the world fell in love with the side-eyed confused pup. The best of boys!

So there you have it! And although so many of these unintentional internet celebrities have changed so much since their images were originally posted to the web, there’s no doubt we’ll always remember them for the hilarious memes they spawned.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/heres-what-the-stars-of-the-internets-most-famous-memes-look-like-in-2018/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/184330360477

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