#I’m sure I’m gonna cope great this summer. for real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letarasstuff · 4 years

Text

Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert

509 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Illicit Affairs - Rafe Cameron

Request: can i request a rafe x reader where she is john b's older sister? like they're trying to keep their relationship on the DL, but get tired of it after a year or so?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get to, just getting back into writing more regularly again.

The TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else ✰

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

Your brother had left you a text just before the news began cycling their storm watch, warning everyone to stay inside and be careful of Agatha, the incoming hurricane sitting off the coast of the Outer Banks. The text said simply that he and Pope were heading out to surf the surge. You texted back a ‘come back in one piece’ and sent the same sentiment to Pope before leaving the Chateau.

The hurricane should have warranted a reason to stay inside for both you and John B but you knew better than anyone that your dad’s disappearance had left him restless and grieving. Running into something seemed the only way he knew how to cope, even if that something was a massive hurricane. You were probably running into something too, if you were totally honest with yourself. And it was just as deadly as a category five storm.

A midyear rager at the boneyard, that lacked the usual buffer created by tourons in the spring and summer, meant more kooks, or just more kooks crossing the line onto pogue territory. Nothing that should’ve inspired any real issues, but Rafe Cameron was hovering closer to the keg than you would’ve liked so you took it upon yourself to move him.

“Don’t you guys have like...a yacht party or something you could go to?” You asked, stepping into the semi-circle Topper, Rafe, and Kelce had seemed to make. All three of them looked at you, Rafe’s eyes travelling over you appraisingly. You grimaced, “if my brother sees you hanging around-”

“What’s he gonna do?” Rafe challenged, “its a free beach.”

“You know the boneyard is on the cut.”

“What are you, beach patrol?” Kelce laughed. “Go bother someone else.”

“Just get off the cut...you aren’t welcome here.” You replied, stepping away from the three of them. You turned, heading away from the group in search of any of your friends, you knew that Rafe was right, you couldn’t actually kick anyone off the beach, but you also knew that John B had been in rare form since your dad died and seeing them would only give him an excuse to get himself into trouble.

You were practically a yard away from the keg when you felt someone grab the waistband of your shorts. Turning, you jerked away from them and slammed your hand against their wrist.

“Shit, those self-defense lessons at the club really paid off.” Rafe commented, rubbing his wrist.

“What do you want Rafe?”

Ever since you had taken the job at the island club it had become Rafe Cameron’s personal mission to drive you crazy. He seemed hellbent on bothering you on a near constant level. At least away from work you rarely had to see him, this night being a rare and unwelcome exception.

“Have you thought about-”

“No.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. In the last two weeks he’d asked you out nearly a dozen times. You always said no but you were all to aware of that split second before the no when you considered saying yes. It was just John B that held you back. If anyone in the world took the pogue/kook shit seriously, it was your brother and his friends. There was no way they would be cool with you dating Rafe Cameron.

“Just one date...you don’t have to tell anyone. If that’s the issue?” He suggested, as if he could read your mind.

“Maybe the issue is that I don’t like you.” You challenged, watching the way he smiled, knowing that he knew you were bullshitting him. You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face.

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” He replied.

You wanted some brilliant comeback to throw back at him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that came out was, “do you even date?”

“For you I’d make an exception. We could go over to Chapel Hill if you’re worried about your brother.” He offered, always ready with an answer.

You were worried about John B, he would be livid. He was so consumed with the idea that your dad was out there somewhere, stranded at sea and people should be looking for him. You had been placating him since Peterkin told you that he was lost at sea, presumed dead, but in all honesty, you had moved on already. Maybe it was heartless but you weren’t fooled into believing that the loss of your dad was a tragedy.

“Let me show you a good time,” Rafe said, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your shorts and moving closer to you.

“You can try,” you said, pulling away from him, “but I doubt it’ll work.”

You should have known then, even as you agreed to the date, that there was no need to try on Rafe’s part. He was an asshole sometimes but you had certainly never been accused of having great taste in guys. That might have been the most surprising thing about Rafe, not that he was exactly the kind of guy you would usually go for on paper, but that off paper, behind closed doors, he was different. Softer. It made sneaking around the island to see him completely worth it.

And as Agatha bared down on the island, the decision to drive to his house as the hurricane was on the horizon seemed like a good one. It was already raining heavily when you parked your car two houses down from his, walking through the downpour to Tanney Hill. The power on the cut was on its way out, you’d driven passed already dark houses and you were sure the Chateau had lost power by now. The eight seemed to be hanging onto its power and the lights on the patio flickered as you knocked on the door.

Wheezie, the sole secret keeper of your very secret tryst with Rafe, was the one who opened the door. Though you knew she had a tendency to double cross people, so far, she hadn’t told anyone about the two of you, a possible record in her books, and you couldn’t help being thankful. As much as you hated sneaking around, there was no way John B was going to take this development in your life lightly.

“My brother’s upstairs.” Wheezie supplied, pushing the door wide enough that you could walk through.

“Thanks,” you skirted passed her, taking the steps two at a time and heading down the hall to Rafe’s closed door. Wheezie had decorated hers with a wooden sign and Sarah’s had a cork board on it. Rafe’s was always blank though, just a plain white door that blended in with everything else in the hallway.

You didn’t bother knocking on the door, pushing it open. Rafe was laying on his bed, eyes fixed on his phone, the sound of the stereo playing some R&B song you weren’t entirely familiar with. When the door opened, he turned his head to the side, confused for a split second before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” He asked, already reaching his hand out to pull you closer as you walked over to him. He grabbed the zipper of your hoodie and tugged, getting you to step between his legs.

“John B’s surfing with Pope and JJ’s still at work so I figured I’d sneak out and come over. See how you rich folk are faring in this storm.” You teased.

He hummed, nodding, as he placed his hands on your hips. “Your concern is overwhelming,” he laughed, tilting his head up so that you would lean forward and kiss him. You complied, placing your hands on the sides of his face as you did. When you pulled away, he smiled, “you should stay over.”

“My brother will freak out if he gets home and I’m gone.” You replied, stepping away from Rafe just so that you could climb on his bed, pushing his phone away to make yourself comfortable.

Rafe opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and shaking his head, going with a simple, “I doubt he’ll notice.”

“That a massive storm is slamming into the coast and his sister is missing from the house at the peak of it? Give my brother a little more credit babe, he’ll notice that I'm gone.” You replied.

“Then tell him you’re here and you’ll see him in the morning.” Rafe said, turning to face you. He put his hands on your ankles as if he was grounding you there, “You know this sneaking around thing is shit.”

Whenever Rafe wanted you to do something that you didn’t particularly want to do, like stay the night at his house or go somewhere that someone might see you, he always claimed to think that sneaking around was shit. A circumstance of the relationship that he hated when it was convenient to him, you knew as well as he did that admitting to anyone that you were dating was something neither of you had the luxury of doing.

“I can’t, he’ll freak out.” You replied, “this is just...a difficult time for him and he doesn’t need any new issues.”

Rafe fell back onto the bed, turning his head to look at you, “he’s 16, he doesn’t need you to hold his hand through every little thing.”

“I’m not ‘holding his hand’ Rafe, he’s my little brother, I’m worried about him.” You reasoned.

“Yeah, maybe, but here you are. Every free moment you get you spend here...this isn’t just an escape when you don’t feel like dealing with your brother and his antics. You know John B and his friends aren’t my favorite people but I’ve kept my mouth shut about them. I think the least you could do is be honest with yourself...I know you want to tell him, you wouldn’t have come here in the middle of the storm-”

“I wanted to see how you guys were doing.”

“Bullshit.” Rafe replied, “you know it’s getting worse out there and there’s no fucking way I’m letting you drive back to the cut in this weather.”

You sighed, you had known that Rafe wouldn’t let you leave once you got here. They were already advising people to stay inside and not leave the house when you decided to drive to the eight, there was no way it was safe to be out. And there was no way Rafe was going to let you risk your safety driving all over the island because John B might get upset that you weren’t home.

“I know.”

“So text him, tell him you’re staying at a friend’s.” Rafe urged, “it doesn’t have to be my house...you can tell him that when you’re ready.” he conceded.

“I’ll tell him soon. I don’t like sneaking around,” you admitted, pulling your phone from your pocket and texting John B that you had gone to a friend’s house for the night and would be home once the storm passed. You sent a mirrored text to JJ, in case he was already at the Chateau, before laying your phone on the nightstand. “I don’t want us to be a secret...it’s just, complicated.”

“I know, trust me.” Rafe sat up, scooting closer to you on the bed so that he could kiss you. Keeping this secret forever was impossible, you’d have to come clean soon and Rafe was right, you had been handling John B with kid gloves ever since you had found out that your dad was dead. Telling him you were dating a kook, and Rafe at that, was an unavoidable conversation that you had been trying not to have for the past year almost. And every time you stepped out of the house you considered telling him all over again. Eventually you’d give, but it didn’t have to be tonight.

228 notes · View notes

kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

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

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

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

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way.

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl.

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway.

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby.

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens. Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail.

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name.

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.”

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns.

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message.

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there.

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits.

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her.

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take.

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door.

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee.

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests.

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out.

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.”

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden.

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected, and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry.

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden.

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning.

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag.

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue.

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set.

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song.

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords.

Meet me in the hallway

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine

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

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt?

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction.

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already? She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way.

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in.

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt?

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different.

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written.

“I should go back,”

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.”

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets.

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said.

I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves

‘Cause you left me in the hallway

Just take my pain away

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on.

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing?

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face.

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow.

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

“Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile.

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart.

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly.

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return.

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him.

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping.

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb.

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie.

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her.

She nods and he takes a step back.

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases.

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway.

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits.

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside.

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?”

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning.

“No,” he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,”

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed.

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten.

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees.

“What’s it called?” she questions.

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues.

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go.

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her.

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space.

If you’re gonna let me down

Let me down gently don’t pretend

That you don’t want me

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors.

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors.

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues.

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.”

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside.

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them.

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long.

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously.

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,”

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,”

“I was,”

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,”

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words.

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.”

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home.

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh.

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically.

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,”

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,”

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,”

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,”

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying.

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,”

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts.

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?”

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did.

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back.

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat.

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers.

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over.

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond.

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw.

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound.

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch.

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it.

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces.

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,”

“M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring.

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks.

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue.

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak.

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches.

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go.

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?”

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her.

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,”

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow.

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back.

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes.

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris.

We don’t know where we’re going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It’s hard when we argue

We’re both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road

You bring me home

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #ybmh #so!!!! that's all folks <3

39 notes · View notes

portalford · 4 years

Text

I Can Picture You So Easily

AO3

It hits Stan at the stupidest times.

Well. That makes it sounds like Stan just forgets, when really it never quite goes away — sometimes it’s just more.

Like now.

He’s looking in the mirror — he found it tucked way, way back in a closet (and he’s gonna skip right over that because when he got here the mirror in the bathroom was broken, cracked until you couldn’t see a thing and why was Ford—nope) — and he’s trying out a new look for Mr. Mystery.

Gotta keep it fresh, right? Accessorize?

Glasses aren’t accessories, unfortunately. He can’t go without them anymore.

(Really, he needed them years ago, but he was too stubborn to admit it, or too broke, or whatever, but he’s literally tripping over his own feet now. Needs must).

Ford wouldn’t be caught dead in this getup. No sense of fashion. So that’s fine.

The glasses—

(Ford started wearing glasses when he was six. Stan had laughed himself silly when they went to the drugstore and tried on the biggest, most obnoxious frames they could find. Ma had scolded, but she’d been too distracted checking price tags to do more than scold.

In the end, they went with some cheap horn-rimmed frames that Stan wouldn’t be caught dead in even now. Old-man glasses, at six. But that was Ford all over).

—they bring some stuff up. The twin thing sucks, sometimes.

(Looking in a mirror and seeing the changes, the lines in his face, the grey in his hair — does Ford have crow’s feet now? Is his hair going silver? It was always unmanageable — is it thinning like Stan’s is now, or is it still thick and flyaway, like it was when Ford was sixteen? Did he even live long enough to get lines in his face and aches in his joints, or is he forever twenty-eight, dead somewhere in the universe?)

Time to stop thinking.

Notice the differences.

Stan’s ears and nose are bigger than Ford’s, always have been. He’s heavier and his shoulders are broader.

(Has Ford gotten bulkier, fighting to survive? Or is still he halfway to gaunt, like the last time Stan saw him?)

Definitely time to stop thinking.

Stan flashes a smile, and yeah, that’s all him. Cheerful, magnetic, and a hundred percent fake.

Time to work the crowds.

*****

There’s an ad for the nice ink pens Ford saved up to buy when he was fourteen.

Stan turns it off.

*****

Mabel finds a picture, once.

“Grunkle Stan!” Her eyes are all lit up as she shows him the torn photograph. “I found this under a floorboard in the attic!”

If Stan ever had any doubts about his poker face, he can lay them to rest now. It’s all on the ropes and his expression is perfectly level, maybe even a little curious.

Mabel is still talking. “I didn’t know there were pictures of you before you were all old! Do you have any others?”

Oh.

Stan still forgets sometimes, even after everything, that most people can’t tell him and Ford apart.

He knows better.

The young man in the photograph is unmistakably Ford, taken while he was living in Gravity Falls. He’s got his head bent over that journal of his, but the photographer managed to catch the eager light in his eye, the edge of his smile.

Stan wonders who that photographer was, all those years ago.

A tug at his shirt reminds him he’s not alone, and he definitely can’t get messed up about this picture of his secret twin brother.

Mabel’s face has fallen a bit. “Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?”

Stan gives himself two more seconds to look at the picture — Ford just looks so happy; Stan can’t even remember the last time Ford looked like that, even before it all fell apart — and turns to Mabel.

“Yeah,” he says. He smiles and ruffles her hair. “Pretty good picture, huh?”

*****

The name is the worst.

Stan never thought identity theft could involve so little fun.

Usually he can get away with just “Stan Pines,” and that’s fine. That’s his name. That’s who he’s supposed to be.

Sometimes, though, that’s not enough for whoever’s asking.

“What did you say your name was again?”

He smiles. Lays it on thick. “Stanford Pines.”

“Could you sign here?”

He does. His blocky, uneven handwriting looks even worse than usual where he’s expecting to see neat, flowing script, the way Stanford Pines is supposed to be written.

“This is Stanford Pines,” someone will say. “Mr. Mystery.”

Stan smiles some more. Yes, Stanford Pines is certainly that.

Gideon is the worst. Stanford this and Stanford that and Stan’s never wanted to punch a child so much in his life.

“Stanford Pines!”

He smiles, and he lies.

*****

Dipper halfway drives him nuts sometimes.

It’s not like the kid’s a mini-Ford — he reminds Stan enough of himself, sometimes, though Stan’s not sure that’s great either — but he’s got the brains and the stubbornness and the love of weird nonsense, for sure.

He’s also got that obsessive edge, the drive that sent Ford right off the metaphorical cliff.

Usually Mabel tags along on the weirdness hunts — they make a day of it. They go out, just the two of them, and come back laughing and joking and shoving at each other.

That’s enough of a painful reminder, but sometimes Stan will catch Mabel sitting by herself, coloring or crafting with a little less energy than usual, and he’ll realize that Dipper’s buried himself in monster theory again.

He tries to keep the kid busy with chores and hustle, but it’s a losing battle.

It was the first time, too.

*****

There’s this old song that Ford used to love when they were younger.

It’s got no words, and Stan used to make fun of it — what's the point of a song with no words? But Ford insisted it had Meaning, capital M.

It comes on the radio now and then.

Depending on how masochistic Stan is feeling that day, he might let it play.

He still wonders what Ford heard in this song, and if Ford would hear it now.

*****

He realizes, one day near the end, that he’s been Stanford longer than he’s been Stanley.

What’s the point, really? What does a name matter if it’s so easy for someone else to take your place?

(Did Ford matter so little, in the grand scheme of things, that not one person could recognize him in a place he lived for six years?

Does Stan, in a place he’s lived for almost thirty?)

If he could just stop catching Ford in his reflection now and then, that’d be great.

*****

It’s not any better once Ford gets back (once Stan brings Ford back, the ungrateful bastard).

“Stanford!”

Stan’s got a smile on his face before he even turns around, and what’s wrong with him that he’s halfway made this lie into a Pavlovian response? Someone calls him Stanford, he smiles and lies.

(Stanford — the real Stanford — is in the basement right now. He doesn’t even exist, as far as anyone else is concerned. Stan is Stanford, Stanley is dead, and Ford is a nonentity.

What a life this is).

*****

“So how was it?”

Stan grunts. “How was what?”

Ford rolls his neck, wincing a little as he works out the unavoidable crick from hunching over a drawing for twenty minutes. “Being me.”

Stan shrugs. “Wasn’t hard. We’re basically the same person, y’know.”

Ford snorts. A long time (a lifetime) ago that comment might have gotten him worked up, but he’s steadier now, softer around the edges. “Very funny. I saw your lease renewal. You didn’t even change your handwriting, for heaven’s sake.”

“Ford, I rolled up to town, said I was you, and started a tourist trap. You had a total personality transplant and nobody noticed.” Stan grimaces. That sounded really bad.

Ford’s expression has gone rueful and a little sad at the edges, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about launch into full-blown self-recrimination, so that’s fine. “Yes, well. That’s what happens when you isolate yourself for six years and your only friend erases his mind to cope with the mistakes you made.”

And that’s Ford trying to shoulder all the blame again, but Stan keeps his mouth shut. They’re both too comfortable to argue right now. “Being honest — for once — it kinda sucked.” Ford’s looking at him, open and encouraging, so Stan keeps going. “Everyone thought I was you, and it—I wasn’t. I didn’t want to be.” Stan shrugs. “I wanted you you.”

Ford smiles, and it’s a little more worn than Stan remembers, but it’s real, and it’s him. “I understand. I met a few parallel versions of you on my travels, and they were you, but — they weren’t really you.” Ford closes his journal (his new one) and sets it aside, tipping his head back over his chair. More playfully, he adds, “I wouldn’t want to be you either, Stanley.”

Stan laughs. “Yeah? Couldn’t handle the salesmanship?”

“Have more self-respect than to wear any part of your wardrobe.”

“Says the man who wears sweaters in the summer.”

Ford lifts his head and smiles, and this time it’s almost exactly how Stan remembers — quick and a little crooked. “Fair enough.” Ford stretches, rolls his neck again. “For what it’s worth, Stanley, I am glad to be back.” A wry look. “Even if it’s going to take ages to sort out the criminal record you gave me.”

Stan slouches deeper into the couch. Any further and he’s going to slide off, but that’s a risk he’ll take. “Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re legally dead.”

“You did that.”

“And?”

“I legally don’t exist.”

“I was trying to learn theoretical physics at the time, Stanford; cut a man some slack.”

Ford laughs, quiet. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

Stan cracks an eye open. He didn’t realize he closed them. “What, learnin’ physics? Because I’m pretty sure that’s some of the stuff that’s not coming back.”

Ford rolls his eyes. “For saving me.”

“Hm.” Ford’s thanked him several times, but lately it’s been less Ford kicking himself and more Ford cautiously trying to engage in the old back-and-forth they used to have, and Stan can get behind that one. “I dunno. Might have to say it again.”

“You’re burning through my gratitude very quickly,” Ford says mildly, “but all right. Thank you for saving me. You knucklehead.”

Stan never got called that when he was Ford. He thinks he’s missed it, at least the way Ford says it — like it means something completely different.

“Uh-huh.” Stan’s eyes are closed again. He figures he’ll just leave them closed. “Missed you too, nerd.”

And maybe there’s something to be said for being your own person.

It feels pretty good.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines #stanford pines #back on the angst with a happy ending train #feat. a side of introspection and melodrama!#i love it here

122 notes · View notes

jbuffyangel · 4 years

Text

Something To Live For: Arrow 1x10 Review (Burned)

I’m back!

There’s a significant time difference between my 1x09 review and this review. No, I did not take a six year long holiday break. It just became too difficult to complete the Season 1 reviews the summer prior to Season 4. So, I decided to complete Season 1 and Season 2 reviews once Arrow was off air.

This means I have not watched 1x10-1x23 in eight years. I nearly forgot everything. Is L*urel still in this show?

She sure is.

“Burned” is the first real snoozer of Season 1, which kind of sets up the tradition of episode 10-15 slumps Arrow suffered nearly every season. This has less to do with Arrow and more to do with it being a twenty three episode series. There’s gonna be some filler.

This episode still holds significant meaning to me though because it contains the SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR speech. This is my favorite John Diggle speech, which is why I named my blog after it. It is also the first time Arrow declares their mission statement.

Let’s dig in...

Oliver and Diggle

The bad guy plot is the worst part of “Burned,” so let’s just cut to the chase. There was a terrible fire in Starling City years ago. The fire chief recalled his unit but one of his men, Garfield Lynns, insisted the building could be saved. The chief refused to send in any more men and as a result Lynns died. Except, this is Arrow and nobody stays dead. Lynns is alive, ticked, insane and burning firefighters, which leads to Joanna’s brother (a firefighter) getting killed.

Cool? Cool. Moving on.

Oliver is having difficulty coping with the fact the Dark Archer kicked his ass all the way back to the stone age. It was a somewhat embarrassing loss and Oliver’s body wasn’t the only thing bruised. We are gifted a very lovely training sequences of a half naked and very sweaty Oliver Queen to show he is recovered, so his hesitancy isn’t physical. It is mental.

Source: @olivergifs

Oliver is having a crisis of confidence and is avoiding suiting up like the plague.

Diggle: This guy, the other archer, he got in your head. He took something from you … he took whatever’s in your heart that lets you jump off buildings and take down bad guys.

Oliver worked for every skill he has. It was not gifted by a bolt of lightning. He does not come from an alien planet. Oliver is a weapon honed over time, which includes his superpower.

Oliver Queen does not fear dying.

That’s the “whatever” in his heart which gives him the confidence to jump off buildings. This superpower was honed after five years of fighting for survival. Oliver almost died so many times he’s built some kind of emotional immunity to it. It doesn’t freak him out like it would the rest of us.

The darker side of this superpower is Oliver doesn’t care if he lives or dies. Season 1 Oliver Queen is very fatalistic. He’s not suicidal, but he’s accepted death is the price he may have to pay in order to complete his mission. More importantly, he is drowning in guilt and believes death is the ending he deserves.

There’s rigidity in everything about Oliver – from his beliefs to even the way he moves. His posture is rod iron straight and there’s very little movement in his upper body and arms. It’s a physical manifestation of his PTSD. It’s like he’s encased in a brick wall, a tomb of suffering, which makes it difficult to breathe or move. It’s like the act of living is physically painful.

The problem is - Oliver came home and it is having an unexpected emotional impacted on him. He’s been laser focused on this mission, but bit by bit, the feelings he’s long since buried are resurfacing. Moira, Thea, Tommy, Diggle, Laurel (AND FELICITY) are chipping away at this brick wall. Oliver didn’t adopt this machine like persona because he doesn’t feel anything. It’s because he feels so much, which means even the small holes in this wall are having a profound impact on him.

This all leads to the greatest John Diggle speech in history! Yes, I say that knowing full well Diggle has spectacular speeches throughout the series, but this will always be my favorite because it’s such a universal theme.

We all must have something that makes life worth living. This ��something” is not limited to romantic love. It can be family, or work or a cause – basically whatever makes you get out of bed every day. It doesn’t have to be just one thing either. In fact, I hope you find many things/people to live for because that means you are living a full and connected life. By that same token, if you don’t have something to live for then you’re not really living. You just exist.

Or in Oliver’s case - survive. He’s known nothing but survival for the last five years. I think he absolutely cares for Yao Fei, Shado and Slade, but that’s exactly why Oliver shut down. He did care for people and it led to nothing but heartache, betrayal and loss. So, Oliver decided to be done with all that and has worked very hard to keep his loved ones at a distance ever since returning home.

He’s been extremely successful at it in many ways because Oliver refuses to share who he really is with anyone outside of John Diggle. So, that’s why it had to be John Diggle to tell him that it was okay to feel again.

Oliver: I’ve been close to death on the island more times than I can remember and I never feared it. Because I had nothing to lose. But when that archer almost killed me, when I stared death in the face then, I thought about all the people I’ve let into my life since I’ve been back – my family, Laurel, Tommy. And that made me afraid. Afraid of what would happen to those people if they lost me. Again. And for the first time in so long I had something to lose.

Oliver may not fear death, but he does fear what his death will mean to those who love him. Like I said earlier - Oliver is not suicidal. If that was true he wouldn’t have fought so hard to survive the island, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to live. He’s far from it. But this is the first time in a long time Oliver cared whether or not he died. And that scares him.

Diggle: Maybe you’ve got it backwards Oliver. You think the people you’ve let in have taken your edge. I think it gives you one. Maybe a stronger one even. You can stare down death with something to live for or not. SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR is better.

That’s endgame folks. Oliver’s story is about a man learning to live again. He will collect more and more people/things that he cares about as he walks this road, which means there is more to lose. Losing his life is far preferable than losing someone he loves again. Oliver can tolerate a great deal of physical pain. It’s the emotional pain that scares the crap out of him. This is why he fights tooth and nail to keep emotions at a distance. It just hurts too much.

Opening our heart to others often means opening our hearts to pain, but that’s not the only side of love. It brings happiness and contentment too. You take the good with the bad. Diggle is trying to open Oliver’s heart to the good.

Is Oliver alive? Or is he just breathing? The answers to those questions make all the difference in the world. A difference Diggle knows will make Oliver an unbeatable weapon.

Lynns: I'm not afraid to die

Oliver: I know. You're afraid to live.

COULD IT BE A PARALLEL?

Methinks yes. It’s interesting “Burned” revolves around fire. Fire is where Oliver’s story began. Lian Yu was about purification, but it was also a rebirth.

A rebirth we see expanding as Oliver opens up his heart. A fire is lit from within our hero and it’s growing beyond penance, justice and retribution to hope, passion and enlightenment. Oliver Queen is finding reasons to live again. And it will make all the difference for his survival.

L*urel L*nce

If you sense I have less patience with L*urel’s character in Seasons 1 and Season 2 than I did in Season 3 and Season 4 then you’d be right. My opinions on this character changed radically so I’m coming into Season 1 and Season 2 reviews with a Season 8 perspective on L*urel.

Tommy wants a drawer. That’s all. A drawer. Tommy Merlyn is a simple man. Doesn’t take a lot to make him happy. He even wrote a list explaining all the reasons he deserves and needs a drawer. We never see the list, but I’d imagine it looks something like this:

I AM HUMAN PERFECTION.

I did not sleep with your sister.

I am asking for a drawer rather than run screaming to the North China Sea with above referenced sister.

I make you omelets.

I make your character moderately tolerable which is a miracle in of itself.

I could continue, but you get the idea. What’s absolutely ludicrous is OLIVER gives L*UREL relationship advice.

Oliver: Well we're friends.

Me: Oliver, my son, NO YOU ARE NOT.

At least she had the common sense to scoff at Oliver’s friendly attempt to intervene on Tommy’s behalf. (Seriously, dude just stay out of it. This is wildly inappropriate.)

L*urel was ready to move in with Oliver (even though she knew he cheated on her regularly), but freaks at faithful Tommy requesting armoire access. JFC this woman is a dating disaster zone.

L*urel: I don’t take things slow remember? I close my eyes and I jump just like you.

My initial reaction to this speech is to call it nonsense.

I thought this was a case of Arrow telling rather than showing with L*urel’s character. However, upon further contemplation I have reversed my opinion.

L*urel may be a pragmatic attorney on the surface, but we have watched her run the gamut of human emotions week to week. So much so it’s difficult to get a read on the character the writers are trying to construct. (Spoiler alert: they don’t know what kind of character they are trying to construct). One week she loves Oliver. The next week she’s condemning him to hell. L*urel L*nce’s feelings definitely control her.

She has been reckless too, working outside the law, by contacting the vigilante for assistance. A relationship she resumes after telling her father in 1x09 that The Hood is a killer with no remorse. See what I’m saying about the ever changing emotional spectrum?

I’m not saying L*urel having emotions and expressing them is bad. That’s a healthier reaction than what Oliver is doing, but she has been all over the map. It’s less about who L*urel is as a character and more about the writers needing her to react a certain way to make the episode work.

Oliver likes to present himself as a cool cucumber, but he has a rather unpleasant temper too. It may seem like he’s emotionless, but that is just a façade. It’s a cover for the torrent of emotions he keeps at bay.

Laurel: I think that’s why we spooked each other. Our feelings, our fears, they control us. Not the other way around.

L*urel’s “spooking each other” statement is a big line of bull, which we’ll find out later in the season. L*urel was not spooked by Oliver. She was the furthest thing from spooked, which is why she asked him to move in with her.

Oliver wasn’t spooked either. Anytime I reflect on L*uriver I’m reminded of a scene from Sex in the City. Oliver isn’t freaked out by his feelings. He’s just not that into you, L*urel.

The process in which we get OLIVER to realize this and admit it to himself will take much longer, but I can be patient. It’s time will come.

But do I think these two characters are similar? YES. They are too similar in fact. It’s one of the main reasons they don’t work as a couple. This is exactly why Tommy and Felicity are perfect for L*urel and Oliver. They need someone steady to temper their emotions.

They need someone happy to balance out their anger. They need someone with a bright light in order to find their own.

It’s also worth noting that Tommy was ready to run into a burning building to save Oliver so GIVE HIM A DAMN DRAWER L*UREL.

Stray Thoughts

Flashbacks were kind of boring. Fyers kidnaps Yao Fei. Oliver saves his own life by accident. Meh

Thea calling Moira out was long overdue. This kid needs a parent ASAP.

Everyone's fall clothing is really adorable.

JUST UNBUTTON THE FRACKIN BUTTON OLLIE.

Merlyn kidnapped Walter right? Or Moira? I seriously don't remember. I don’t think I care either. lol

L*urel: I am not the best example of healthy grieving.

LL has a rare moment of self awareness, which is lovely.

Oliver: I heard what you said to your father. That I'm a killer with no remorse.

L*urel: Do you?

Me: You impertinent little snot.

I like Joanna much better than L*urel and I wished she stayed, but removing Joanna from the show is the first step the writers took to limit L*urel's role. The shift is upon us.

Not to be unsympathetic, but Moira is starting to rack up the dead husbands.

Thea fantasizing that Walter is cheating on Moira with a stewardess as the hopeful pitch is YIKES. Goodness this show could be dark.

Musings of the Kiddo

Kiddo: Yeah! He's actually putting his family first!

Me: Settle down. It doesn't last long.

Kiddo: I thought L*urel was gonna find out.

Me: Oh my sweet summer child.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 1x10 #arrow rewatch #oliver queen #john diggle #oliver and diggle #anti laurel lance #merlance #arrow season 1 #arrow season 1 review #arrow review #arrow reviews #arrow season 1 reviews #season 1 review #season 1 episode review #season 1 reviews #season 1 episode reviews #arrow fandom #anti lauriver

51 notes · View notes

auroras-blend · 3 years

Text

First Day of School

Summary: AU one-shot of what would have happened if the Marks had won the custody battle. Told in Marilyn's POV

Sunlight peeked through the curtains and cast onto an empty bed, unusual since its occupant rarely woke up before then. No, instead little Miss Marilyn Winslow woke up with the birds who were singing joyfully outside and for once, she didn’t hiss at their loudness. Her mood reflected their demeanor as she whistled and sang along with them.

Marilyn clasped the white buckle to her mary-janes, before straightening in front of her mirror. Perfect! Her outfit was the most important thing that morning. It took her mind off of her nerves because she had a very big task in front of her: the first day of school. It was her first, first day of school since her Mama had passed and while the ache was there, she refused to go in sad. I have to make a good impression!

If there was one thing her Mama at least always tried to do, it was to make sure she looked good on the first day of school. Of course on their budget, most of the time it had been from the thrift store but once in first grade, she got a new dress. This year, Mrs. Marks offered to let her pick out her own and buy it new, but Marilyn insisted on going to the thrift store for a new dress or “slightly used” because that’s what she and Mama did. The old lady who ran the shop was happy to see her once again.

Marilyn, in a way to pay tribute to her mother, wore a green gingham dress because the color always looked so wonderful with her eyes. It was slightly tailored to fix a rip, but it was barely noticeable now. Pleased with her outfit, Marilyn fluffed her blonde curls and tightly set a white headband on her head before nodding in satisfaction and left her room. The smell of sweet maple syrup wafted from the kitchen, leading her like a moth to the flame. The minute her heels clicked on the tile, her parents smiled. “Look at you!” Daddy exclaimed, putting down his paper, “Look at how beautiful you are!”

Mrs. Marks smiled, “You’re a dream!”

Her mommy briefly abandoned plating the pancakes in exchange for coming to see her daughter’s first day of school outfit. “Thank you,” Marilyn blushed.

“You’re going to have such a good day, I know it,” Mommy said surely as she kissed Marilyn on the forehead.

It was rough for a long time, it still was, after her Mama died. Marilyn still longed for her real daddy, not that she’d ever tell Mr. Marks that, but the ache in her heart and mind started to dull. The small family sat around their table and said their prayers. “And Lord, please give Marilyn a wonderful first day of school,” Daddy said lastly, “Amen.”

“Amen,” she and Mommy finished before they began eating.

As they had their breakfast, Mommy went over the pick-up and drop-off routine. Marilyn knew it, they had been doing it since she started living with them. “We’ll both take you today, we don’t want to miss your first day,” cooed Mommy, “But Daddy will pick you up and take you with him to the church where you’ll be with me in the daycare for the last hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she said pleasantly, her mouth full of sticky, sweet, fluffy pancakes.

Her nerves were high, wondering if she’d be in the same class as Rodney Lord again or if she’d spend another year friendless, but she always felt that way on the first day. Mama, please help me have a good time. She wiped her stinging nose before anyone could notice, I don’t wanna be the class crier this year. She’d been on a pretty good no crying streak this summer, of course, there were days where she did, but it hadn’t been as often as before.

In all honesty, she would have preferred her summer to last a little longer with the Marks because she had truly been happy. Marilyn felt like she was finally part of a normal family, nourished in warmth and affection that she hadn’t ever received before. And she was so excited to share that when people asked her what she did that summer because she finally had a fun and exciting answer! They had been to the county fair, the fireworks show, went to Baltimore for some conference Mr. Marks had to go to, but it had been a real family vacation!

It had been a relaxing time as she got to know her new parents and their daily routines. She loved waking up early some mornings, yes I know, I liked it and sneaking to sit with her daddy and color as he read through his Bible before helping her Mommy make breakfast. Breakfast used to be a meal she had to forgo, but now every day started at the table. Life was structured and comfortable, and as if to prove it, the clock struck right when she swallowed her last piece of pancake to fill her belly before school.

“Oh, finish your milk, we’ve gotta go!” Mrs. Marks said as she got up, clearing the plates as Mr. Marks went to get their coats, keys, and Marilyn’s backpack.

Cupping her glass with both hands, she guzzled it down as she watched her parents scurry to get ready before she let out a refreshing “ah” and handed it over to Mrs. Marks. “Kay peanut, ready?” Mr. Marks asked as he helped her out of her seat and into her dark green coat and new leather satchel.

That’s right, it’s new! They let her pick out her own backpack that year and she swore to keep it clean and safe at all costs. You’re on a mission, Miss Marilyn! “Hey,” Mr. Marks leaned down, “Still on for ice cream?”

She grinned and nodded, “Uh-huh!”

He gave her an agreeing nod. Mr. Marks said it would be their “thing”, every year at the end of the first day of school and last day of school, they’d get ice cream and talk about her day. They did it the previous year on her last day and it was one of her favorite memories, one that she tucked away and pulled out whenever she was feeling particularly sad. Mr. Marks gently reached for her hand and his wife for the other and walked out to the car together, ready to start her on her next adventure.

The ride was too short and too long all at once. They chatted but when they parked, amid the flurry of walking children and their parents, she frowned. When they noticed she’d become silent, they turned around, “You’re going to have a great day!”

“I-I’m gonna miss you…I don’t want to go,” she said, sounding like a frog was caught in her throat.

“Oh peanut, you’re gonna have so much fun though. You’ll make new friends, have a new teacher, and you’ve been practicing your reading all summer so you’re all caught up!” Mr. Marks reassured her.

“What if people make fun of me?”

“They won’t,” Mrs. Marks said firmly, “And if they do, they’re not worth being around.”

Since the adoption, people had been nicer to her but she was still nervous. “I-I’ve never not had...my Mama,” she said.

It was starting to hurt again. “Your Mama is still here, watching over you. You’ve got me, Daddy, and your mom up in heaven. Three adults who love you, that’s a lot.”

“God too,” Daddy added.

He has to say that. He’s a pastor. With a little more confidence knowing she had more people in her corner, she was able to step out of the car when the pastor opened it for her. Hand in hand, matching all of the other families with their children, they walked her to the front of the third-grade doors. “This is it,” Mrs. Marks said, “You’re going to do so well!”

Her adults kneeled down and gave her a big hug and wet kisses on her cheek, though her Mommy gave her more. “I love you so much,” she whispered into her ear.

“I love you too Mommy,” Marilyn said, hugging her tightly.

“And your other Mama loves you too,” Mrs. Marks added.

“Thank you,” Marilyn whispered.

The fact that Mrs. Marks never tried to bury her Mama’s memory, meant the world to her. After another proper minute, the bell rang and the students congregated to their assigned lines. Marilyn bravely and confidently walked to her own, head held up high. I can do this! Have a growth mindset.

Her head did turn to see her parents waving goodbye to her before she was forced to move forward in line to the doors. When she passed the threshold, she became an official third-grader at Summerfield Elementary. Showtime.

The first few moments were chaotic as her teacher, a woman with dark black hair styled in a flick-up, directed students to put their items away on the coat rack. Marilyn was already in awe, the woman was incredibly beautiful with warm hazel almond-shaped eyes that made her feel comfortable. And the way her teacher was looking at her, she knew she’d already become a favorite of hers. Marilyn gave her a shy smile and wave before turning to find her desk, looking for her name tag: Marilyn Marks.

Part of her was thrilled that her last name was Marks, but she didn't know how to cope with not being Winslow. She already knew it was naughty, but she resolved to lightly trace the name Winslow underneath it later. To honor Mama. “Boys and girls, take your seats!” her teacher instructed, clapping her hands together.

Marilyn slid into the hard wooden seat and squirmed for a bit, before looking around. No Rodney Lord! Yesss! “I like your dress,” whispered a girl next to her.

She had dark red hair tied back into pigtail braids. Marilyn glanced at her name, Sara Barnes. “Thank you, I like your sweater,” she said sweetly as her eyes appreciated the blue cardigan.

“I’m new, wanna play with me at recess?”

Marilyn’s heart uplifted! “Okay!”

A friend! I can go and tell daddy I have a new friend after school! “I’m Sara.”

“I’m Marilyn,” she said as they quickly shook hands.

“Alright, settle down! Give me zero voices in 3,2,1!” her teacher said as a hush fell upon the classroom.

Marilyn’s soft green eyes landed on her beautiful teacher. Her teacher was a glamorous woman who wore a dark blue dress, as sharp as her cheekbones.

“I am so happy to see you all here today!” she cooed, clapping her hands together before picking up a piece of chalk, “I am your new teacher! You may call me...”

She began to spell out the letters: M-i-s-s. Miss. S-a-g-e-s-s-e. Sagesse.

“Miss Sagesse,” she said, making brief direct eye contact with Marilyn, “Welcome to 3rd grade.”

She knew it was too early, but Marilyn allowed herself to smile at the promising start of her first day back at school.

#marilyn winslow #emilie marks #john marks #princess aurora #au to the au #bonus chapter #?

5 notes · View notes

nessaiscute · 3 years

Text

A great body

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” My husband asked me as we got out of the carraige.

“Ash dear.” I groaned, “Its going to be fine. I need to get away from Machina's tower and the nevernever. Don’t worry Glitch will make sure no one explodes the kingdom.”

Me and Ash have been married for a long time, I’ve learned so many things about him. Things that during the Ferum war I wouldn't believe if I told my past self. For one, Ash is a worry wort by nature, extremely. I trip one time and hes following me like a puppy. I'm a klutz, I’m going to trip. or when Kerrian was a toddler; Puck came by both Kerrian and his uncle went to play. Ash didn’t stop watching the gate once, and when Kerrian came home Ash glomped him. heh, Kerrian was confused as hell. Puck got a little offended. I’ve learned so many other things ‘bout him too. Too many to mention here, I love him more then anything.

“so out of all the places we could of went, why the beach?” My husband inquired.

I chuckled, good question, “its summer and I feel like showing off my body.”

“To who? I’m the only one thats gonna be there. The beach is technically closed.

I waited till his eyes were on me and then grinned, “exactly. The only one I want to be there.”

“Oh.” Ash realized and then I took his hand in mine and we walked towards the beach.

Humans can’t see fey unless we let them, i heard all the beaches were closed due to some virus. Our bodies are strong enough to handle this affliction and its only us, i doubt we’ll spread it back to the nevernever. Gods I hope not, I...

focus snapped my brain

But it was so hard, but not for a thinking reason. Ash’s hand was so warm, I wanted to cling to it forever. I didn’t want to let it go at all, I was so distracted I forgot bout the scorching heat. I found myself staring into Ash’s sliver eyes, He really is the only one in the world for me.

“Is something the matter my queen?” Ash asked.

“I haven’t told you how much i love you. thats what.”

That made him chuckle, “I love you too. However my queen i need to apply sunscreen to your back. Please let go of my hand.”

I slowly released my grip, the warn feeling leaving my hand and feeling very sad. Ash placed a towel on the sand and I sat on it. I felt Ash’s heart beat rise, if only slightly. Hes a stubborn cookie, he hasn’t commented on my attire at all, I'm wearing a red bikini with red panties, also my breasts have gotten much bigger since I became iron queen, I’m at least a D. But for some reason, I can’t seem to get Ash’s attention. he says I'm beautiful but would it kill him to stare at me once in a while? I’d love to feel his eyes on me, knowing there is lust in those eyes. feeling the desire and love for me.

Maybe... hes losing interest in me?

“Meghan are you okay?” Ash asked, “Your glamour is very low.”

He finished putting the lotion on my back, I was so lost i thought I didn’t notice. Ash then got in front of me, when he smiled my heart skipped a beat.

“Go play in the water love.” I told him, “Just yell out if you run into trouble.”

He pressed his lips to mine and ran off.

I puffed, he didn’t even notice my body...

I stared up at the blue sky, is Ash... really happy with me? Did I make a mistake saving him from the winter court? Does he blame me for our son turning traitor? Maybe...I was never attractive and hes just coping with the fact he married such an ugly wife.

swamp girl

I forgave but I never forgot high school Waldrop and the rest of the bullies. that nickname still hurts, its what everyone called me. Even Puck one time when he was mad at me. Am I... not beautiful? Am I even pretty? When we was younger Ash called me beautiful almost every chance he got, now? I don’t even think that idea crosses his mind.

“Wait a second..? Swamp girl??” said a confused voice.

my heart stung at that word I looked up and there was Scott Waldrop. Gods, not now. Humans can’t see me... wait a second, when I was younger he didn’t realize who I was without a name cause he was happy I was gone. but now? his hatred for me must of caused him to recall me therefore he can see me. Waldrop was with girl clung to his arm, I saw a ring on both of their fingers. Married, huh? Waldrop himself has seen way better days. Hes no longer lean and handsome, hes fat and has a bald spot on his head. his wife might look better but her hatred for me makes me afraid. She’s a red head with red lipstick and wearing a black bathing suit. her eyes green.

“Honey who is this?” Asked the woman.

“A real freak. heard you got kidnapped and killed.”

The smile that ran across his face when he mentioned kidnapped and killed, he really does hate me...

“Nope. Still kicking. I’ve just been living life.”

Waldrop noticed the gold ring on my finger. and he snarled, “holy crap the swamp girl got a sugar daddy??”

“Hes not a sugar daddy!” I snapped, “Hes my husband!”

“Don’t snap at my husband freak!!” Snapped the red head.

I was silenced for her scream was deafening.

“Yes mam...” I mumbled, “I’m sorry....”

“Wait a second, where is this ‘husband’? is he seeing his true love. are you being cheated on-”

“Maybe in your dreams.” Stated Ash as he approached.

“Ash??” I gasped, was he keeping track of me the whole time?

Waldrop’s wife checking out Ash made me sick, but Waldrops glare at Ash was making me even more mad.

“Who in the hell are you?”

“Don’t remember me Waldrop? not too shocking we didn’t have much contact when we were younger. But youre harassing my wife. Its going to stop.”

“I don’t believe that Scott dear, hes too... hot to be married to a freak like this.”

Ash twitched, and my heart dropped Ash didn’t bring his wedding ring. said he coulden’t find it, how would ash prove it? I thought my life was-

However Ash pulled up his hand and there was a gold ring on his finger. They both gasped.

“Wow you must of-”

one Glare from ash silenced them both, he has a habit of doing that.

“Get lost.” Ash snarled and they both stomped away.

Ash was fuming, i felt it, the anger in him was reaching unhealthy levels.

“Let me kill them.” Ash snarled.

“No you idiot! You can’t just kill people for no reason.”

“I have one.” “And that is..?”

“Look at you!” Ash shouted, “Youre shaking life a leaf! Is that how you were-”

Ash caught himself when he saw tears in my eyes. He then sat down next to me and played with my hair.

“Im so sorry Meghan.... I didn’t mean to yell. Can you forgive me? “

“Yes.” I sobbed.

Ash then curled his arm around me and pulled me in, my breasts pressing to his chest. I didn’t feel any heart beat rises. He must really-

“Ahem. I must apologize for my chest.”

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Touching your breasts. I don’t mean to offend you, it is not my intention to grope you.”

Wait a second...

“Ash have you been afraid to notice my body for this reason..? Or am I just not pretty to you?”

Ash has given people odd confused looks before, hes normally not one for nonsense but I have to take credit for the most confused look hes ever given someone.

“Not pretty to me? Meghan what the hell are you talking about? I think youre the most perfect woman in both the worlds. Have you really not noticed my eyes on you whenever youre not looking. I stare at you quiet often.”

Oh gods I feel so stupid, but at the same time... my heart is soaring. replacing all that sadness with a happy feeling that is impossible to contain.

Ash then softly cupped my breasts and I felt my face get a little warm.

“These are especially nice, I’ve noticed. Its just impolite to scream it out.”

I giggled, “Well they’re only for you. You should stare at them more often.”

Ash chuckled, “Very well. We should go home before I lose my patience again”

Before that I cupped his face and kissed his lips, he kissed back. My husband loves me, he thinks I’m beautiful. I love him so much. We got into the carriage and drove off.

While driving Ash kept looking at me sympathetically. We both knew what was on his mind.

“Yes, that was my life before Ethan got kidnapped.”

“I just don’t understand how people could be so mean to you.” Ash mumbled.

“I don’t get it either Ash. I don’t.... ever want to go back to that life.”

“And you won’t.” Ash stated as he curled his arms around me.

“Promise? Promise you won’t let me go back to that life....” Ash then kissed my ear “I promise. You’ll never go around those people.”

I don’t recall what happened after that. I just felt safe falling sleep in my husbands arms.

#Fall fey #for peter #i love him so much #hes been a really good friend #and i adore him #Meghan Chase #Ash Chase #scott waldrop #OC #Iron fey

9 notes · View notes

stevesnailbat · 5 years

Note

I haven’t even seen any fics about Steve and male reader running around the mall and hiding from the Russians, maybe they both escape and eventually kiss (the feelings be real what they are feeling) and this(instead of robin could be both of their coming out parties) and then maybe nsfw??? Cause Steve is daddy

warnings: slightest mentions of homophobia, mentions of violence, smut

word count: 2.4K

a/n: this is my first ever male reader fic, i hope it’s up to everyone’s standards! enjoy :)

Everything was blurry and painful as Y/N opened his eyes, slowly becoming aware of the fact that he was tied up in a chair inside of an underground Russian base. He realized where he was eventually, realizing that impending doom was upon him. What he heard seconds later was what fully brought him back to reality, a pained groan from someone behind him. He remembered that they had been down there for what seemed like an eternity, and that both of them had the living shit beat out of them not too long before.

“Steve?” he called, trying to reach his hands that were tied behind his back to touch the boy behind him. “Harrington, I’m gonna need you to talk to me. Are you alright back there? Are you hurt? Please—“

“Jesus, Y/N. I’m fine, just a little beat up, that’s all. No need to start your nervous rambling.” Steve groaned bluntly, rolling his head back, leaning it against his.

“It’s a little too late for that, Steve.” he joked coldly, his hands still trying to reach for Steve’s in a frantic manner.

Before either of them could say anything else, more of the guards walked in. Y/N was sure that he had a major concussion at this point, that or his eye was just swollen shut, because he could barely see what was happening around him in enough time to react to it. That was when he felt Steve’s finger reaching for his own, hooking their pinkies together in a comforting way. Y/N couldn’t really remember all of what happened after that, but he knew Robin was dragged in and that they injected them all with something that was supposed to make them tell the truth.

The next thing Y/N could remember was Robin and Steve giggling about how the drugs not working only, that was when he realized he had it way worse than the two of them. He was still spinning in and out of consciousness as the Russians came back in and threatened to pull Steve’s fingernails off. He was coherent enough to follow them through the tunnels after being set loose when Dustin and Erica saved them, but that was as much as he could do.

The elevator ride made him feel nauseous, but being in the movie theater after was what made his head feel even worse. Still, he followed Steve wherever he went, in a daze as he heard mutterings from him and Robin.

“Y/N—Y/N. Come here, check this out.” Steve said as he stared up at the ceiling in the mall, the swirl of blue lights mesmerized him as he reached for Y/N’s hand.

He stood next to Steve staring at the lights for a moment, the lights dazzling him just as much as they did Steve and Robin. His hand was ripped from Steve’s when he ran towards the bathroom, leaving Y/N alone in the hall. He started to feel nauseous soon after the other two sprinted towards the bathrooms, so he followed suit but neither of them noticed.

Y/N laid on the bathroom floor, listening to Robin and Steve talk in the stalls next to him. Most of the conversation was a blur, but he brought himself back to reality when he heard Robin ask if Steve had ever been in love before. When he said Nancy’s name, Y/N’s stomach twisted in a knot. It was hard enough to see Steve flirting with girls at work all the time, but thinking about him with Nancy was even worse. He’d been holding back his feelings for so long, but it was hard for him not to flirt with someone as playful as Steve.

It was unheard of for Y/N to even think of bringing up sexuality to Steve, but it was something on his mind a lot. He caught lingering glances in his direction from Steve one too many times to think that he wasn’t interested in the slightest, but he’d never bring it up.

“Are you still in love with Nancy?” Robin asked.

“No.” Steve replied bluntly.

“Why not?” Robin questioned.

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” he chuckled, making Y/N’s heart drop as he thought of Steve finding someone else. “It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, "You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie."”

“Wait, who's Suzie?” Robin interjected.

“It's some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend.” Steve said. “To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real. But that’s not—that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this person, you know, the one that I like, it's somebody that I...didn't even talk to in school. And I don't even know why. Maybe 'cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or...I wouldn't be...prom king. It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out with this person the whole time.”

The room was silent and Y/N nearly stopped breathing for a moment, trying not to ruin the moment for anyone. He wasn’t really sure who Steve was talking about, but his heart was racing at the possibility of it being him.

“He’s—They’re just smart, way smarter than me, and so funny. They’ve made my life better and I’ve had the time of my life this summer with them, I just—I don’t know if I’d be able to tell them.” Steve scoffed.

“Steve?” Robin said quietly, unsure of herself as she spoke.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Did you just say he?” Robin asked, making Y/N’s stomach twist into knots again.

“Yeah—Yeah, I did say he, didn’t I?” he laughed, leaning his head against the stall closest to Y/N. “I never thought I’d admit it, but yeah. And—And it scares me how much I like him.”

“Robin, did you just OD in there?” Steve asked after a long silence, knocking on the side of her stall.

“No. I am still alive.” she replied, laughing to herself a bit. “It’s okay to be scared about your feelings for a guy Steve, I am too.”

“About me?” he questioned, making her laugh again as she slid under his stall to sit next to him.

“No, Dingus.” she said softly, shooting a sympathetic smile in his direction. “I’m scared for myself—my feelings about girls scare me too.”

“Are you saying—“

“Yes, Steve. I am too.” she replied, shaking her head at his confusion as she chewed on her lip. “And you know what? It’s okay that we’re scared. But you know who’s probably even more scared right now than we are?”

“Who?”

“That someone you found who’s better for you.” she said as she leaned down to peer under the stall, seeing Y/N’s feet near hers in the next stall over; he had been listening in shock the whole time. “He might actually have OD’d in the stall over.”

Y/N had his eyes closed when Steve slid under the stall to him, but they fluttered open slowly when he felt a warm touch on his bruised cheek. They didn’t have time to say anything to each other before Dustin and Erica barged in, seeming very annoyed.

The more times the two of them faced death that night, the more they wanted to be alone. It made them realize what they were missing out on for so long and what they really needed. But they fought, they fought to live to see the day where they would be able to be together. Y/N still wasn’t seeing straight, but he was strong enough to push past it because it meant that he was one step closer to being with Steve.

The medics checked Y/N after the battle was over, confirming what he already knew to be true. He had a severe concussion, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to drive himself anywhere. Steve was nowhere to be found for a while after coming out from the mall, but he was searching for Y/N just as much as he was looking for Steve. He eventually found Y/N, rushing over to him as soon as he did.

“How do you feel?” Steve asked, sitting next to him on the tailgate of the ambulance. “That’s a stupid question, I know you don’t feel good. Do you need me to drive you home?“

“Yeah, that would be great.” Y/N replied with an exhausted smile on his lips.

The car ride was relatively silent for the most part, as both of them were trying to figure out what all had just happened with them and the Upside Down. Both of them lived in Loch Nora, but Y/N felt the need to be with Steve for the night.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he blurted out as they pulled into the neighborhood, making Steve nearly slam into the brakes at a stop sign. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah of course you can. Honestly, I was hoping you would say that.” Steve chuckled, smiling sheepishly over at him.

They got ready for bed in a peaceful quietness, neither of them daring to say a word. It felt like things were alright again, but Y/N thought saying something might ruin it all, like Steve might change his mind if he said anything wrong.

“Listen, Y/N.” Steve said hesitantly as he pulled the sheets down on the bed, the hesitancy in his voice making Y/N a little uneasy. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he implored, watching the doe eyed boy cautiously from the other side of the bed.

“I don’t know, for not telling you I guess? I’ve known for a long time that I’ve felt this way but—“

“Steve, it’s okay. You were scared, I get it. I know you and I know who you’ve been around for the first nineteen years of your life. You thought that someone, your parents, your friends, people around town, would judge you.” he cut Steve off, grabbing his hand as he gripped the sheets between his fingers. “I understand, I was lucky to have people like you and Robin and my understanding parents to support me. It’s not like that for everyone, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to cope with bottling it all up for so long but I just couldn’t take it any longer and now—fuck—now I just want you. No, I don’t want you, I need you, all of you.” Steve said desperately as he grabbed Y/N’s hand tighter as he kneeled on the bed.

“Steve, you aren’t thinking straight—“

“No, but I am! I know that I really like you and that I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time.” Steve exclaimed, tugging at his hand lightly again as he followed and knelt on the bed.

It was sudden, but needed when their lips collided. There was a sense of urgency behind the kiss, like their lives were still in danger and they’d never get to feel their lips together again. It was hard for Y/N to believe that Steve actually wanted him, but it was happening, it was really happening. Everything was happening so fast that he barely realized his hand wandering down to Steve’s boxers until he felt him moan into the kiss. Steve mumbled under his breath as he pulled away from Y/N’s lips, pressing kisses along his jaw slowly. He stopped Y/N by grabbing his hand, making him furrow his brow in confusion.

“I want to do this for you, okay? You’ve had a rough few days, finding out about all of the true crazy in Hawkins, I want to do this for you.” Steve insisted and Y/N nodded, laying back on the bed as Steve palmed his length through his shorts. “I gotta hear you say yes.”

“Fuck, Steve. Yes, please, just do something.” he mumbled as he locked eyes with a very excited Steve.

Steve wasted no time in pulling his shorts down, taking his length into his hand as Y/N moaned loudly. There was a smirk on Steve’s lips as he leaned down to kiss Y/N, getting whines of pleasure from in response to his movements. Steve’s tongue danced across Y/N’s bottom lip before biting it gently and pulling away after. Steve looked nervous for a moment, but Y/N cupped his bruised cheek and smiled up at him reassuringly.

“It’s your first time doing this, I know.” he chuckled, making Steve blush a bit. “It’s alright. You’ll do fine.”

“I know I will, don’t worry.” Steve said as his confidence boosted immediately, smirking lightly. “So sit back and let me get to it.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you—Oh fuck.” Y/N said, cutting himself off as he felt Steve take him into his mouth.

His movements were more forward than Y/N expected, but Steve was confident and wanted to make it great for both of them. He started out slow, though. He took half of Y/N’s length into his mouth at first, getting adjusted to the feeling as Y/N gripped his hair while biting back a moan. It didn’t take long for him to get used to it, so he sped up soon after. Y/N almost came at the sight of Steve taking his whole length into his mouth at once, but stopped himself. He wanted the moment to last a while.

Steve hadn’t done anything like this before, but he knew exactly what he was doing. The swirl of his tongue and the use of his hand were done to perfection, making it hard for Y/N not to come.

“I want you to cum, babe. You don’t have to hold it back anymore.” Steve said before licking a stripe up his length.

It didn’t take long after that for Y/N to reach his high, gripping Steve’s hair tightly to hold him down as his cum hit the back of his throat. A string of curse words left his mouth before he let go of Steve’s head and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath.

“Was that good?” Steve teased, already knowing the answer as he pulled Y/N’s shorts back over his hips before crawling next to him in the bed.

“That was more than good, it was pretty fucking amazing.” he replied, laughing tiredly as he turned to Steve. “I want to make you feel good now.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said, cupping his cheek as he noticed his tired eyes and raspy voice. “I want you to sleep now, we can do that later. You need sleep, alright? I’ll be right here when you wake up and we can finish where we left off.”

“Alright.” he sighed, letting Steve pull him into his chest as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Sweet dreams, Steve.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Steve sighed contently.

494 notes · View notes

regrettablewritings · 4 years

Text

How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this.

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery, as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

#just a dumb little thing #anyway stay safe and healthy #regrettablewritings #tadashi hamada imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #dewey finn imagine #wade wilson imagine #harley quinn imagine #tadashi hamada #lucifer morning star #dewey finn #benoit blanc imagine #benoit blanc

178 notes · View notes

real-jaune-isms · 4 years

Text

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 4 Review/Remix

A pretty good episode this time, and only 30% pain and despair so things are looking up! But when it goes mean it goes real strong with the mean. Lots to think about here, and boy oh boy do I wonder what we’ll see next week!

For a nice touch of levity, we open on Robyn telling a funny story about a time Joanna lost a fight to try and pass the time. Maybe she’s trying to cheer Qrow up too, but as someone who gets very bored at work pretty often I get the appeal of talking just to keep sane. She sees Qrow is too lost in his brooding about Clover’s pin to listen to the story, and Jacques is too busy fussing over a fly buzzing around his head (the Pence jokes write themselves). Tough crowd indeed, though her joke about Ironwood needing to pay for cell block entertainment does get a smile and a chuckle from the sad old bird. She takes this chance to apologize, possibly again and we’re just seeing this conversation now, for what happened with Clover. Many would argue it is really her fault for getting trigger happy back in the airship when Qrow was the one under arrest, but that’s an argument not worth having because the blame soup was being stirred by way too many cooks to make a clear verdict. Qrow, however, blames himself for deciding to team up with Tyrian, which was certainly a bad move. It was a heat of the moment thing, and he makes it clear he really would have preferred working with Clover to re-detain Tyrian again, but Clover just wouldn’t let up on his arrest orders. The real pain though, he admits, is that he had really started to let his guard down around this guy and thought her could actually make a partnership work again without his Semblance tossing 1,000 monkey wrenches into the mix. Feels like a fairy tale dream, vanishing like a rose petal on the wind, like every other friend. I of course added the part about rose petals, because you know he meant Summer and the unity of STRQ she probably represents in his mind. Robyn knows a thing or two about having a Semblance that impairs your relationships. Not many people like being around someone they can’t keep anything private from, and she can call out and mistruthing with a touch of the hand. Qrow has to admit he hadn’t considered someone else having that kind of personal trouble like he does, but their conversation is ended by Harriet coming in to toss Watts back in his cell. She’s pissy at Qrow and says he shouldn’t have Clover’s pin, but he retorts he has no reason not to have it since he’s not Clover’s killer. She still has a hard time believing that since Harbinger was the murder weapon, but Robyn finally raises a very good point. Miss Hill is a literal walking polygraph and all they would need to do to prove Qrow’s innocence is let her out of her cell and take her hand. But they won’t do that because they don’t want to prove what’s really true here, they want to cling to a convenient story so they don’t have to admit what really happened. Cuz if they put those glasses back on and face the facts, that means reevaluating what side their on if Clover died because he refused to help detain a serial killer before arresting a former colleague and that’s the real problem. Hare had already threatened that if she was gonna open the cell she wouldn’t use her hands for a friendly shake, and the dig at her allegiances and her ignorance towards Ironwood’s sins almost riles her up to the point of taking Robyn’s bait. But Marrow calls her back down to sensibility and she leaves in a huff. Robyn lays back and sighs at how there was almost something exciting happening.

Cutting to an actually exciting scene, Yang Jaune and Ren are outside the city chasing the Hound through a mountainous canyon on their bikes. It can fly while they have to navigate the rocks, and their bikes aren’t handling the cold terribly well. Yang laments that none of them can fly, but that inspires Jaune to pull out his shield and get closer to Ren. He’s gonna get his teammate up there, and Ren immediately understands how. Leaping off his bike and onto Jaune’s shield, he’s launched through the air by the burst of Gravity Dust in the crest and uses his grapple line blade to wrap around the Hound’s leg... and get dragged through the air like Curious George at the end of a bunch of balloons. Still, he’s weighing it down some and can climb up the line to get in close... when he’s not getting swung around against the cliffside. To further slow it down, he shoots his other line around a big rock that gets dragged behind them for about 5 seconds before the Hound flies higher up and the line comes loose. Ren gets knocked around even more while Yang finds an inclined path that gives her enough height to start shooting at the Grimm. It handles this fairly well, by dropping Oscar from its mouth into its hands and flying ahead of her with a loud roar. Apparently one of its Grimm for all Seasons abilities is to call for backup, because dozens of Centinels suddenly burrow up out of the rocks and ground around them and several Teryx swoop in above. Navigating becomes that much more difficult for the blondes, especially when one Centinel spits acid and hits the thruster of Jaune’s bike. He thinks fast and leaps off his bike to launch off another Grimm in front of him and flip onto a rocky overpass where he almost loses his balance and falls back down. Luckily Yang instead zooms by and pulls him onto her bike where they continue their pursuit. She does a great job of bobbing and weaving around the insects, but a Teryx lands in their path. Jaune tosses his shield grenade in front of a large rock and they drive onto it to tilt it into a ramp, launching over the avian foe into a spin between two more big bugs. They bump on a rock, but the Grimm cannot touch them with Yang’s driving. Unfortunately, they have a far more dangerous problem: They’re heading towards the edge of a massive cliff. Yang tries to make a quick turn but instead flips the bike over and launches both of them off to go tumbling off the precipice. Jaune tries to plant his sword in the ground as an anchor, but he doesn’t keep hold of it with their momentum and they both fall with a very believable scream. Big props to Miles and Barbara for this and the dramatic performances soon to come. Ren comes swooping in for a massive save and grapples Jaune’s sword with one weapon and the poor guy’s leg with the other. Jaune grabbed Yang by the hand so she’s fine too, but an incoming Teryx might soon negate it all. Luckily, Ren instead negates all their emotions with his Semblance and the Teryx passes them by. Less lucky, Ren being here means he’s not hanging from the Hound. He let it get away with Oscar to save his friends, and you know he’s kicking himself for it.

Shifting scenes from that tense gloom, we see Weiss decided the safest place to take Nora for the time being is her own damn mansion. Whitley answers the door and is about to try and berate Weiss for this but she is having none of it. She holds him at swordpoint and insists that they are coming inside. Whitley is very against the idea of harboring fugitives after the hit the Schnee family’s reputation has taken in the wake of its patriarch’s arrest for war crimes, and Blake is quite frustrated that this is what he chooses to complain about. The staff is all gone, Willow has retreated to her room and assumable to the bottle, you gotta admit Whitley probably feels more alone now than ever and is... coping in less than ideal ways. Weiss still seemingly carries a chip on her shoulder of wanting to prove that she is doing something actually important and she made the right move by leaving home to be a Huntress, so she insists that Whitley has no right to nag them because they are saving the Kingdom here. At least, that’s what my 2 semesters of psychology classes would tell me. Ruby plays intermediary between the Schneeblings and lays down their very minimal terms. Let them stay here a little while so Nora can rest and recover, and then they will leave him to his sulking and riches. Whitley begrudgingly accepts and asks what he has to do, and Weiss seems to relish this chance to tell him to go to his room. Finally flexing her big sister authority without Papa around to veto her in favor of his adoring son. But like Willow said last Volume, Whitley has been stuck in this house just like Weiss and Winter, and they could certainly try to treat him with a bit more fairness and sympathy. I’m sure it hurt him a little inside to have yet another authority figure bossing him around without a care for his desires. Still, he’s not giving much reason to make us sympathize so I say wait a little bit to see if he’s got any softer moments to come. Weiss directs May on where to carry Nora, and Blake checks on Ruby while they have this quieter moment. Possibly because she wants the chance to talk to her too, Blake suggests Ruby should try calling Yang to make sure things are okay, both between the sisters and in general. But that’s just it. She did it 35 minutes ago. Okay not really, but I wanted to toss a Watchmen joke in. Still, as much as Ruby worries how that half of the team is doing, she’s already trying to call them and it’s not going through.

We fade back to our three battered teens as Yang collects what scattered pieces she can from her bike, the only one they still have. But like I said, it crashed into a rock after they tumbled off and it’s in no condition to run anymore. So Jaune is trying to call for help and transport back to Mantle, but either Ironwood shut down all communication in the lower districts or they’re just so far out in the tundra that a signal just won’t reach. The latter would make sense, and explain why Ruby couldn’t reach Yang. Giving up on the call, the three instead trudge through the snow in the light of the setting sun back more or less the way they came. Jaune is dragging the bike along while Ren leads the way to an outpost he saw while getting dragged by the Hound. Yang notes how low their auras have been drained due to protecting them from the cold this long, and like a kid on a car trip asks how much longer it will be. Ren has no immediate answer so she asks again and he gives a snippy “I don’t know”. She can tell there’s something more bugging him and tries to coax it out of him after sensing the hostility in his explanation that he only got a glimpse of their intended destination before he had to abandon Oscar in favor of saving them. He refuses to discuss his deeper feelings because he thinks it’ll just waste time. This riles Yang up and she demands to know what his deal is, to which he insists she not worry about it. The argument keeps escalating from there. Things aren’t going smoothly enough for Ren? No, they’re not going smoothly at all, but boohoo Ren, that’s part of the job as a Huntsman. He doesn’t think it’s a job they should have at all, they weren’t ready for it or to make the incredibly damming decisions they’ve had to since taking that position. Sure, they had a few lucky breaks and near miss successes, but then they entered this losing streak that they can’t seem to recover from because the losses are too drastic and every choice they’ve made has been the wrong one. Yang refuses to accept such pessimism and insists that even if they haven’t done everything perfectly they still had to do something because inaction would have made things worse. But how could they be worse than they are now, Ren demands to know as they freeze to death out here. Salem has the Lamp and Oscar, and they have nothing but the cold winds. They may not have an army but they have the Maiden, Yang tries to counter, but because they haven’t let her to open the vault for Ironwood all of Atlas is just a buffet waiting to be chowed down on and it will all be their fault when that happens. Yang rightfully asks him if he seriously thinks letting Ironwood try and float Atlas away to safety will work out for him or for the people of Mantle he’s abandoning, but he argues that they shouldn’t even be the ones asked to make that call. He’s trying to spit the hard truths no one else wanted to face, but this is way too harsh and mean, especially for Ren. What are these hard truths, you ask? That Ruby is still too young to be a leader, that he himself is an orphan from a town that doesn’t exist anymore (which I guess shows how unimportant he is for someone thrust into this decision making role), and that Jaune, who by the way has been trying in vain to get the two to cut the shit and quiet down this whole time, cheated his way into Beacon. A damn low blow there, bro. Bringing back the deep wound from Volume 1. And you can tell he regrets it immediately, but to say that would mean backing down from his point. Jaune doesn’t even address the personal callout and just says alright, you don’t think we should have the job, good for you. I’m still gonna keep walking and get out of the cold because like it or not we were given a goddamn job to do. Maybe not in those words, but the meaning was there. Ren and Yang silently let him take the lead, probably feeling the hot wash of shame distracting them from the arctic chill. Yang still takes one last dig at Ren though by asking if it’s his goal to push everyone away, implying he’s being an asshole and not even Nora is sticking by him. Well... in so many words anyway.

We get another change of scenery with a dramatic violin stroke like something out of a murder mystery movie. Oscar is regaining consciousness, and he hears Ozpin try to reassure him to stay calm and that it’s gonna be okay. When he looks up, however, he sees Salem leaning in a shadowy doorframe staring at a smoky apparition in her hand and welcoming back her long lost Ozma. Judging by the childlike laughter and general shape of her smoke display, I think she was manifesting a memory of her and Oz’s dead daughters to try and reminisce about the days when they were still lovers. Oscar realizes he’s being held in the air from the Hound’s mouth and tries to struggle free as Salem notes how young and weak this new vessel is. She’s not even acknowledging Oscar, just talking through him to Ozma. It’s been what may have truly been centuries or even a millennium since they’ve last met, and dear Oz has nothing to say to his wife? Oscar does his best Ozpin impression to try and fake it till he makes it, but Salem knows her man better than anyone and sees through it to grab him by the face and call his bluff. But he really is still a separate person from Oz, so maybe he can be more cooperative to her requests than that old wizard. She still wants to know where the Relic of Choice is, since Oz clearly must have used an extra layer of deception to hide it opposed to the others, and she wants Oscar to reveal the trick. But that’s not a memory he has access to, and he tells her plainly that he doesn’t know. She believes him, knows Oz would hold that one close to the chest longest of all, so she asks an easier question. How does she go about asking the Lamp questions? She gets the standard coverup answer, the Lamp is out of questions so it’s futile to even try, but she refuses to believe that one. Instead she blasts the poor kid with an evil magic rainbow laser and lets him scream himself hoarse for a bit. His chest has scorch marks, or at least his clothes do, and he fearfully tries to pull away from her “loving” touch. Lying so easily about these things, he truly was reincarnated into a like-minded soul... but sooner or later one of the two in this battered body will break and Salem will learn what she wishes to know. He tries to insist he won’t tell her anything, but that’s why she has backup. Hazel comes in to literally gut punch this 14 year old until he coughs up his guts or the truth, whichever comes first. And he justifies it all by saying this is revenge for his defeat at Haven and from the still unforgiven death of his sister.

Salem doesn’t stay to watch the savage beating, instead walking the halls of Monstra with her lovely new pet. Cinder has been waiting in this hallway for a chance to speak with her Mistress, but is distracted by her immediate discomfort in the face of the Hound. Salem claims it is an experiment that she is quite happy with the results of thus far, and wants Cinder to get on with whatever point she had so she can get out of the way. Cinder wants to search for Penny, she thinks she can make up for the past blunder and claim the Winter powers for herself. But Salem just laughs at this. “She thinks, she wants!” It’s like hearing a cockroach tell you about its hopes and dreams. Mommy Salami does not give a fuck what Cinder wants to do, she has done nothing to earn Salem caring about that. Cinder, to her credit, does not take this dismissal lying down and tries to argue that they are doing nothing to further their plans when Cinder could be achieving a great victory for her Mistress by securing their way into the Atlas vault. Salem does not slow her pace, and says when it is time to act she will tell Miss Fall what she needs her to do. Cinder tries to argue, and is met by the snarling maw of the Hound turning on its heels to send her shrinking back. Salem has been pretty damn patient with this bratty girl, but she will not repeat herself again. You are not going the the ball, Cinderella, you are staying here and doing what your godmother tells you to because if you don’t you will learn just how easily you can be replaced and forgotten. Cinder gives up her case and assumes the position of submission, which is to say taking a knee and repeating her self-depreciating mantra that without Salem she is nothing. This satisfies Salem and she walks away with her dog in tow, leaving Neo to glare at Cinder as if wondering who is really the domesticated little pet in this place.

Cut to Cinder immediately rebelling against her given orders and heading for the airship insisting she just wants to go check on something and then they’ll come right back before anyone knows they left. Neo just floats along behind her because like hell she’s staying in the Satan whale when it’s this bitch’s fault she’s here at all. We get the last unseen shot from the trailer as Cinder looks out over Atlas and rationalizes that Salem doesn’t know Team RWBY like she does, she wouldn’t understand how determined they would be to try and save the world, and so it falls to her to check out Amity Colosseum again and see if they’re up to something. Neo seems annoyed and disinterested at Cinder’s petty little scheme, but they’re both caught off guard by Emerald arriving behind them and offering to tag along to help. She’s been getting better with her Semblance and asserts that she would be very useful. Poor misguided lass, searching so desperately for acknowledgement and praise you’re never gonna get... Cinder seems pissed that she was eavesdropping, but she’s not gonna turn down the assist. Time for an evil girls’ night out~

Back on the ground, night has fallen as JRY have found the outpost at last. Jaune hits a heater to get it running and prevent their freezing to death as Ren broods out the window and Yang is outside working on her bike. The leader takes this time to address the tension with his teammate. Yes, he did make a bad decision and cheat his way into the Academy. But when he found himself in that bad situation he realized he needed help and he asked for it. He turned his situation around and got better, became the strong person he is now. Holding onto this ideal that being strong means doing everything on your own? That was literally the issue Jaune faced in his mini character arc back in Volume 1, and he came out of it humbled and ready to accept support from his team. From Pyrrha. But she’s not here anymore, and Jaune is. Nora is, team RWBY is here for Ren. So Ren needs to understand that he can let them in, because the more he hides from how he feels the worse it’s gonna feel and hurt him inside. Ren goes outside to sulk under a streetlight, but Yang has come inside now to say that she’s found the part she needs to fix the bike so with a little more tinkering they can get it working and ride back into the city once they’ve got some R&R. Yang does take the time to say she’s sorry Ren said what he did because of her argument with him, but Jaune dismisses it for the time being as all three of them being under a hellish amount of stress. He’s been where Ren was before, he knows how much it hurts. Yang turns back to the tool bench to work on the thruster, but she’s got some inner turmoil of her own to vent about. She wants to know if Jaune thinks “She” thinks less of Yang for making the choice she did and staying to help Mantle instead of going to help fix Amity. Playing the pronoun game like this can be tricky, and Jaune fairly assumes she means Ruby since the two of them did have the verbal disagreement before splitting off, and Yang did question her leader’s decision making and leadership. He assures Yang that her sister will always love and believe in her even if they have squabbles like this. But it would seem Vomit Boy lost the pronoun game, and Yang was not actually asking about Ruby. Judging by the purple cannister she’s wrenching into the battered thruster, she was asking if Blake would think less of her because of these recent actions.

A lot of people seem rather torn about this choice in priorities for Yang, but allow me to explain why I think it’s not that bad of a writing decision. If there is one thing that has been consistent in this Volume it has been the confidence of other characters that Yang and Ruby will endure this clash of ideals and remain loving sisters. Usually these sentiments have been given by characters who are siblings themselves and know the strength of that bond, like Weiss and now Jaune. We’ve never actually heard either sister personally express any anguish or regrets over that argument, but we can assume they’re both still a little sour about it. But they have been there for each other to a depth that few siblings have, as evident by Yang’s story in Volume 2 about how she had to step up in raising Ruby in a lot of ways after Tai went into grieving for Summer. They’ve been each other’s best friend and closest confidant for so long, I truly believe their bond is clad in iron and they know it too. Meanwhile, a lot of Yang’s recovery arc in Volumes 4 and 5 was dealing with being abandoned by Blake in a time of need and it continued into 6 as learning to accept her back into her life and find a way to make their partnership work again. Shipping or not, they do have a strong bond that has been renewed by dealing with their combined trauma and killing Adam. And when that happened they both promised they would stick together and back each other up, but now Yang has been the one to decide she wants to split paths and do something else. She has good reason to worry this might have upset Blake, and we the audience know Blake is worried about how she’s doing. So, when faced with a color that reminds her of her partner, it makes some sense that Yang would try and get an outside perspective of if she’s fractured their bond. And if you ship them, that more magnifies the interpersonal concerns than really changes the problems.

Regardless, Jaune realizes this is a problem he’s not quite equipped to deal with and decides he’s going to get some rest in one of the beds in the outpost. He gets the strong feeling he’s gonna need it cuz it feels like things will only get worse before they get any better. As we pan out past Ren, whom Yang promises she won’t let brood himself to death out in the snow, we see cracks start to form out on the ice. That can only bode poorly for these poor kids. Many folks think this is a frozen over lake with some scary aquatic Grimm waiting in the depths like a megalodon Grimm shark or the sulfur fish Grimm that apparently were the winners of a fan design contest this past year. Personally, I’m taking a note from the opening and saying it might be a cloister of Apathy since their gross grabby hands wrapped around Team RWBY when they fell through the ice at the end of the intro. But we will have to wait and see. Thanks for reading, hope to see you and your notes soon!~

Edit: this came out a week late and we did indeed see what it really was. Boy were we not ready for the truth...

9 notes · View notes

rennyforpresident · 4 years

Text

Renny’s BBSim: First Boots Week 8

Welcome back to Biiiiiiiiig Brother!

@ashleaevans @bathroom-sand @kaysarswhore @kayysarridha @kelleekim @lahallucinations @maxdoesbb @misshoh @music-obsessednerd @nerdphobic @nomwastaken @pawn2393 @phylisisley @remember-caltoru @rennyforpresident @shaolinbynature

Previously, the Double Eviction claimed both @remember-caltoru and @nomwastaken as its victims. With only 8 people left in the game, allies have to start turning on each other. Who will take the first shot?

After the double, alliances have DWINDLED

The Fearsome Four became the Fearsome Two last night, and the Block Destroyers lost their first number. But these alliances are only half the house; @kelleekim, @shaolinbynature, @phylisisley, and @ashleaevans still have a shot against the alliance!

The dreaded chicken wire competition! A few people fall out of things early, and just can’t keep up

@phylisisley in the DR: “I am LIVID that I can’t just win a fuckin comp! We’re at final 8! I mean, how do I keep losing??”

These three all have a good grip on this comp. Each of them are at 10 eggs each, when disaster strikes for one

@misshoh: “NOOOOOOOO, my egg!!”

@misshoh dropped her eleventh egg, essentially taking her out of the comp.

No matter what happens, someone will be HOH for the THIRD time (can someone else win a comp I’m tired of congratulating these two). Will @kaysarswhore win it for the Block Destroyers, or will @shaolinbynature win it for the Leftovers?

By an insanely close margin...

@shaolinbynature! You have won your THIRD HOH of the summer, securing your safety and earning the right to nominate two of your fellow houseguests for eviction!

Feeling defeated, the Block Destroyers all hug each other solemnly. On the other side of the yard, @ashleaevans happily hands the key to the HOH room to @shaolinbynature

@shaolinbynature in the DR: “This week, my one and only goal is to finally take OUT @kaysarswhore! She’s snuck by for TOO LONG, and I can’t have her making it any further.”

Late at night, the day before the nomination ceremony, @pawn2393, @ashleaevans, and @shaolinbynature are all in the HOH room.

@pawn2393: “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but @kaysarswhore and @nerdphobic are the final 2 we have to worry about. I’m willing to work with you all because @kaysarswhore just doesn’t have my back. I’m on the bottom over there”

@ashleaevans: “I personally feel like we can trust you, so I’m happy to work with you.”

@shaolinbynature: “I feel like I’m getting some weird readings right now... are @ashleaevans and @pawn2393 working together? I mean, it’s great to get intel on the other side, but can I trust him?”

At the nomination ceremony, @shaolinbynature stands up to make her decision

@shaolinbynature: “I have decided to nominate you @kaysarswhore and you @nerdphobic. @kaysarswhore, you shouldn’t be surprised at this point. You’re the biggest threat in here, and @nerdphobic, you’re just guilty by association. I would wish you luck in the veto, but I really hope you don’t win so we can send you out the door. This ceremony is adjourned.”

@kaysarswhore in the DR: “I am so tired of being vilified by these people. I have been nothing but good to these people, and I’ve gotten nothing but targeted in return.”

*at this point, shady editing shows all the shady things @kaysarswhore has done throughout the season to prove that she has not, in fact, been nothing but good*

@nerdphobic in the DR: “I am just hoping that the veto doesn’t get used by anyone but me. I’m staying here no matter what, and my best shot at staying is against @kaysarswhore. I love you girl, but I will cut you if it means I win half a million.”

It looks like the veto drawings are not in the Block Destroyers’ favor. @shaolinbynature draws @pawn2393, and says later in the DR, “This is his chance to prove which side he wants to be on.” @kaysarswhore and @nerdphobic both pick people from the other side of the house, and know that when push comes to shove, they’re the only ones they can rely on.

In this elimination style competition, two people will go head to head to beat each other’s scores. By random draw, @kelleekim is up first! He challenges @kaysarswhore, and with a score of 7 to 5

@nerdphobic is up next, and chooses to take on @shaolinbynature. Both do a good job, but with a score of 8 to 7,

Next up to choose is @pawn2393. Here is the moment of truth. Who will he pick to go up against, and which side of the house will @pawn2393 choose to work with moving forward.

@pawn2393: “I choose, uh, I choose...”

@pawn2393: “I choose to go up against @kaysarswhore.”

Live footage of @kaysarswhore and @nerdphobic‘s reaction

The two face off, but after an intense round, @pawn2393 just can’t beat her

Unfortunately for @kaysarswhore, she’s the next person to choose and doesn’t get a break. She picks @shaolinbynature, and with a score of 9-7

That means it’s down to the showmance, @phylisisley and @shaolinbynature. As soon as she’s eliminated, @kaysarswhore goes over to the losers bench and sits in angry silence until the end of the comp.

The last round is just the two remaining houseguests having fun, not caring who wins. But in a surprise twist, the person walking away with the veto is...

@phylisisley! Congratulations, you have won the Power of Veto!

The Leftovers celebrate, and the Block Destroyers (minus @pawn2393) are looking crestfallen, to say the least.

But @kaysarswhore isn’t going down without a fight. That much is for damn sure. The next night, @kaysarswhore gathers both @phylisisley and @shaolinbynature in the HOH room to make her pitch.

@kaysarswhore: “Listen. This game? Finished. I’m willing to spill the details of everyone’s games right here right now. @pawn2393 and @ashleaevans have a little flirtmance thing going on that they’re never going to break. They think they’re slick and that no one knows, but I figured it out a long time ago. @misshoh and @kelleekim have a secret deal that I overheard them talk about a few weeks ago. They’ve both been throwing comp after comp because they’ve never been nominated and never even been targeted. The only person in this house who hasn’t been sneaky and underhanded is @nerdphobic, and yeah, he’s loyal to me, and I’m loyal to him, but I promise you, if you flip this script and keep me here, you’ll have the numbers for sure going forward. The four of us, will definitely take on @kelleekim, @ashleaevans, @pawn2393, and @misshoh. They don’t have a shot in hell at winning a comp.”

Stunned, it takes a second for anyone to respond.

@shaolinbynature: “And what guarantee do we have from you that you’ll be true to your word? You’ve burned us both before, how can we trust you now?”

@kaysarswhore: “I can’t give you anything other than my word. But it’d be stupid of me to lie to your faces like this when we’re already in jury.”

The conversation continues for another hour, and @kaysarswhore gives their heated and passionate campaign. The next day, @shaolinbynature confronts @ashleaevans about his secret relationship with @pawn2393.

@ashleaevans: “What?!?! No! Do you think @pawn2393 is stupid enough to jeopardize his alliance weeks ago? Do you think I’m stupid enough to jeopardize my position in the house?

His response was defensive, but really convincing. It made way more sense than @kaysarswhore‘s argument.

The time for the veto ceremony has come. @phylisisley stands and delivers her speech.

@phylisisley: “Hey folks. I just want to say that I am very very happy to have finally won my first competition, and it has been very, um, enlightening to see what people will tell you when you have power. People’s true sides have come out, and I think it’s time for us to stop playing pretend and start playing Big Brother. That being said, I have decided...

Live footage of me seeing the sim tell me this happened and wondering how the FUCK I’m supposed to justify that

@shaolinbynature: “Since one of my nominees were vetoed, I must now name a replacement nominee. It has come to my attention that some of us haven’t been playing as hard as others. I don’t want someone like that to win this game, so unfortunately...

@misshoh in the DR: “I can’t fucking believe it. What the fuck did @kaysarswhore tell them to convince them to use the veto on her? I thought I had this game in the bag, and now here I am on the block. *breaks down and cries*”

With noms locked, the house is left to their own devices for the rest of the week.

Feeling dejected that his final 2 with @misshoh is exposed and his ally is probably going home this week, @kelleekim chooses to spend lots of time with her before Thursday

@misshoh: “If I go this week, I’m rooting for you. All the way. That jury is all gonna be voting for you to win because I’m gonna tell them to.”

The two of them lament their friendship, and resolve to get to work on getting the votes for @misshoh to stay.

In other news, @phylisisley is having a tough time figuring out how to cope with the game-changing decision she made.

@phylisisley spends the night in the HOH room being consoled by @shaolinbynature.

@shaolinbynature: “We did what we had to do. We’re playing this game. If she betrays us, we know she lost this game, she’s not getting a single jury vote for being such a fake.”

@phylisisley: “But we had people depending on us! I just feel bad.”

The two comfort each other for a few hours, and when they next wake up, it’s

EVICTION DAY

Julie Arisa: “Hey houseguests! It’s me Arisa!”

The houseguests all look extremely confused, because the woman before them is definitely Julie Chen.

Julie Arisa: “Why do you all look so concerned? It’s just me!”

Then, the real Arisa runs on stage looking extremely disheveled and yells, “Take her down boys!”

Julie is once again dragged offstage screaming, “I’ll get you Arisa, I’ll get you and BB will be MINE again! Grodner is on her way and she won’t put up with this!”

Arisa: “Well houseguests, I’ve been through a lot today, so let’s do this eviction thing. Get to it folks.”

@misshoh: “Just to let you all know, if you go to the end with @kaysarswhore, you’re a fool. I’m done with her, and I’ll never protect her in this game again. @shaolinbynature and @phylisisley, both of you got played this week. If I am on jury, neither of you will get my vote. That’s all!”

@nerdphobic: “All I can say is that I hope you keep me here! Peace and love to you all!”

Arisa: “Thanks for keeping it short folks! Now let’s voteeeeeeee”

@phylisisley votes out @misshoh. This blindside would be meaningless otherwise.

@kelleekim votes out @nerdphobic. He knows that @nerdphobic will go wherever @kaysarswhore does, so taking him out is his best bet.

@ashleaevans votes the same way for the same reason. The house has to pick a side, and this is the side he has to pick.

Now this one is a surprise! @pawn2393 goes into the DR and says, “I’ve learned this week to trust in the Block Destroyers. It looks like you haven’t learned that yet.”

The vote is tied. Two votes for @misshoh and two votes for @nerdphobic. Who will @kaysarswhore vote out? Will she honor her deal with @shaolinbynature and @phylisisley? Or will she defect back to the Block Destroyers?

@kaysarswhore votes out @nerdphobic in a SHOCKING twist.

@kaysarswhore: “The Block Destroyers are done. This is an individual game, and my plan is to cause as much chaos as possible. Sorry, but this is my best bet at making it further.”

Arisa: “When I reveal the name of the evicted houseguest, they will have one minute to gather their belongings, and exit the Big Brother house.”

Arisa: “Come on out, @nerdphobic!”

Arisa: “What happened?? How did you end up going home this week?”

@nerdphobic: “I blame @pawn2393 100%! @kaysarswhore told me how tight he was with @ashleaevans, and he’s the only one I can imagine flipping on the Block Destroyers like that. If he makes it to the end, he’s finished.”

Arisa: “It sounds like there’s some hard feelings! Do you think people are gonna start playing harder than ever now?”

@nerdphobic: “I can’t imagine things NOT heating up after this. I have no idea who’s going next, I just hope that it’s someone I don’t like leaving soon! *audience laughter*”

Arisa: “Thank you so much for playing, and we’ll see you soon on finale night where you will help crown a winner.

Only four more weeks until finale night! Who’s the next one out? For now, from outside the Big Brother house, I’m Arisa Cox, and remember, someone is aaaaaaaaalways watching!”

Okay writing this episode was IMPOSSIBLE I literally had no idea what the fuck y’all were doing but I LIVED! Sorry to @nerdphobic but we still stan!!

#bb22 #bbsim #bbsim first boots

13 notes · View notes

drowseoftaylor · 4 years

Text

Like Thoughts Inside a Dream (brian may x reader)

Summary // You’re marrying the love of your life Brian May tomorrow...or so you think.

Warnings // swearing, “cheating”, and (lots and lots of) crying :) oop and fluff

A/N // Oh hello my lovelies. I guess I have no excuse to not write fan fiction now, right? Well, with the quarantine and all. As always, I hope you are all feeling and doing very well. It will get better, okay? This is not the first time the human race has had to cope and adapt to catastrophe, and we have made it through before. We shall do it again. But enough of that. For now, let’s pretend a little.

All my love xxx

(pretend this gif is of ‘77 Bri)

The date was May 20th, 1977. Brian and you had been together since the summer of 1974, and now it was the day before your wedding. Oh, how time had flown by. In the start of your relationship, you had had stolen moments in broom closets and bathrooms in bars. Now, you had a diamond ring on your left finger and you were putting on your white silk robe with the word, “Bride” embroidered on the upper back.

You and Brian had decided to get married on the countryside in England. Simply because that is where most of your friends and family were. You both had rented out an amazing old castle for the event, and you were to be married tomorrow at noon just outside in the castle garden.

Between all the families, children, touring roadies and their families, etc. there was about 200 guests that would be surrounding you and Brian for the bonding of your eternal love the next day. But, at this moment, you were brushing your hair and taking off your makeup from the day in your own suite. Brian was not with you, as you both decided to have separate rooms for the night before the wedding, so the next time you guys would sleep and well, sleep together would be as a married couple. The idea was suggested to you by Veronica, John’s wife, and you both thought that the idea was great.

The clock now read 11:58pm, and you were in your lavish nightgown, tossing and turning in the bed. Not having Brian next to you was surely very odd, as you have not slept away from him for any reason, not even when he was on tour because you worked for Queen. You quite literally were the seamstress for the band. It wasn't just an Elton John lyric. You loved every second of your job, and that is how you met Brian all those years ago.

But in all honesty, you missed him and wanted him by your side, and you thought that having him hold you tonight would take some of the jitters away about tomorrow. You knew being away from him was just for one night. But, would it really hurt if you snuck into bed with him? He was just four rooms down the hallway after all. After a moment or two of contemplating, you decided “fuck it”, and threw your robe on and some slippers, then started to pad down the hall.

As you approached closer and closer to his door, you started to hear a thumping sound come from inside one of the rooms. But, as you were still two doors down at this point, you thought the sound was just coming from Roger’s room. “Wonder who the lucky girl is tonight”, you chuckled in thought. When you finally reached his door, your heart instantly fell to the floor.

“Oh, oh, oh fuck. Please baby faster. Fuck, you're so good.”

Who in the hell was that? Was Brian really cheating on you the NIGHT before your wedding day? Was this really, actually happening? He treated you with nothing but the upmost love and respect for the last three years. This wasn't Brian, it just couldn't be. But, it was. This was him room. He had some girl in there with him, taking your place, the night before he was going to promise himself to you.

With all of these thoughts racing through your head, you had no idea what to do. All you knew was that your body started to feel hot and you felt your hands and whole body start to shake with rage. Your eyes filled up with tears, followed up with ringing in your ears. You wanted to bang on the door and tear Brian to shreds as soon as he answered, but, you just couldn't. You were too heartbroken. How, in the fuck, could this be happening?

So, instead of causing a scene, you decided to run back down the hall and into your room. You opened the door and slammed it shut before running to your bed and throwing yourself on it. You promptly cried yourself to sleep. This was worse than being left at the fucking alter. Being cheated on? Your heart was literally incinerated.

An hour, maybe two, you didn't know, passed. You were in the limbo between asleep and awake, and still felt tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N? Honey, you awake?”

You didn't know if that voice was coming from a dream or real life. Frankly, you did not want to know, because that voice was undoubtedly Brian’s. You did not know whether the voice was real or not until you smelled his scent and felt his arm wrapping around your waist, and pulling you in.

“Brian...”

“Yes, baby?” You felt him smile against the skin on your shoulder as he planted a kiss there.

“Get the fuck out of my room.”

He chuckled. “Come on, Y/N. I know that we said we wouldn't sleep together the night before the wedding but I missed-”

“No, no. I said to get the fuck out!”

You pushed him off of you and jumped out of bed. You turned on the bedside lamp and crossed your arms, watching him get out of bed too and look at you with a very shocked expression.

“D-did I do something? What’s wrong?” His curls shook as he spoke, his eyes looking worried and full of concern.

A deadly silence fell upon you two.

“Who was the girl?”

“What? What girl?”

“The girl, Brian. The fucking GIRL!” You started to shake with anger again as you screamed.

“What fucking girl?? I have no idea what you are talking a-about!”

He was clearly slurring and stumbling over his words.

“Wait, are you fucking drunk?” You walked around to his side of the bed, and when you did, you could start to smell the booze on him.

“Uh, I think so?” He started to chuckle and reach out for you, but you pulled away.

“Who even are you right now?! You get drunk, fuck some girl, then waltz into my room the night before our wedding expecting to have a quickie?”

As you speak, the anger seething through you is reaping through your veins. The man that you love more than anyone in this world is a man that you truly don't know at all, and to make matters worse, he was trying to deny it all.

“Y/N, please s-low down. I-I am a little drunk, I think. I don't know who this girl is. Rog and I-”

“No, stop. Stop fucking talking. Brian, I love you so much. But, I don't know who you are right now. Do I deserve to be hurt? Do I deserve to be played like a fucking instrument? Why did you even propose if you want to cheat on me? What did I do to deserve this??”

At this point, there are tears streaming down your face again. Brian is not even following your words. He’s lightly swaying and shaking his head to try and listen to your words.

“Y/N...please, I don't even know what you’re saying, just please slow down.”

“Fuck you, Brian. You weren't telling that groupie to slow down. So, you can marry her tomorrow instead of me. She sounds like fun.”

Brian’s hands flew to his hair and he turned away from you and banged his fists against the door. Then, he turned around to face you again, leaning his head against the door.

“Y/N, what in the fuck are you talking about?? Roger and I-”

“NO! Get out! I fucking mean it Brian, get out. It’s done. Go sleep off your hangover and affair. You’re gonna be marrying your mistress tomorrow.”

“You’re acting fucking insane. Come here and let’s t-talk...” He waltz towards you chuckling softly, but you just pushed him off you so hard he literally flew into the door and the lamp on the nightstand fell and shattered on the floor. He started at you wide-eyed and shocked as all hell.

“Goodbye, Brian.”

He left without another word, audibly crying.

It is hard to describe at this point why you were standing on the podium in front of the grand mirror in your wedding dress. Your hair and makeup done as well. The only two things left to do is to don your veil and beautiful custom made high-heels.

You were just staring at yourself in the mirror. Staring at Brian’s bride-to-be in the most lavish gown the world has ever seen. Courtesy to yours and Freddie’s impeccable taste. But soon, your thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from your left.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?’

“Yeah, sorry John. Lost in thought I guess.”

“That’s ‘kay, love. So was I on my wedding day. God, I was just so excited to marry Ronnie that I couldn't keep my head straight. You feel like that?”

John started to put on and adjust your veil as he spoke, smiling at you as you watched him in the mirror. As you watched, Freddie and Roger you saw too, to your right, and they were admiring your shoes.

“Shouldn't you guys be with Brian? I mean, I’m so grateful for you all to be here, but I-”

“Darling, Brian is as steady as a rock on marrying you. You need to be monitored at the moment. Been acting so mopey all day. Probably just cold feet. Even John got cold feet on his wedding day, right?” Freddie said turning to look at you.

“That’s right. But, it was the best decision I’ve ever made, marrying her. You and Brian were made for each other, okay?” John said this as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and placed a soft and quick kiss on your cheek. This made you eyes flutter shut, and tears start to stream down your face.

“I- I cant breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. Oh my god, I cant do this.”

Tears were ruining your makeup and your heads flew to your chest as the boys came up to you and tried to calm you down over the loud sounds of you gasping for air.

“Y/N, please tell us what’s wrong, love. Here, come sit.” Freddie took your arm and led you to the couch that sat underneath the window and wrapped his arm around you.

A long silence. Only your tears and gasps could be heard all around. The boys’ hearts breaking at the sight.

“Brian...he...” your voice cracked as you choked on the words.

“He what?” Roger and John crouched down in front of you, as Roger inquired.

“...he cheated. Last night. I went to go sneak into his room and I heard him shagging some bird. Then, he came into my room drunk and pretended to have no idea what had happened and-”

A long and loud chuckle came from Roger as he stood up in front of you and ran his hands through his hair. The rest of your faces fell as you stood and yelled at Roger.

“Something funny, Rog?” Now, you were filled again with anger.

“Y/N, that wasn't Brian you heard last night. It was me and some bird I picked up at a pub down the street. Brian was asking what you could’ve been so mad about last night. That was it. That wasn't Brian you heard, it was me.”

“What? I don't understand..” Your mind started to race. This had to be some kind of joke.

“Yeah! I took her back to the castle and left Brian at the pub we went to last night. John was with us, too. Brian’s room was closer than mine, so that’s why you thought it was him shagging someone. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“So, why the fuck didn't you tell me first thing this morning after Brian spoke to you about it?”

“Love, I’m still really hungover from last night. Wasn't thinkin’ ‘bout these things.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. How could you be so blind? So stupid? Now, you were sobbing again. This day was supposed to be the best day of your life. How could this happen? You didn't even give Brian a chance to explain.

You broke from Freddie’s grasp as you stood up suddenly and ran out of the room in your wedding gown and veil. You then burst into Brian’s dressing room down the hall. There, you found him head down at the vanity crying, in his gorgeous black tuxedo. You closed the door behind you and lent against it. The sight of him broke your heart more than when you thought he had cheated.

He lifted his head quickly at the sound of you closing the door and he turned his body to gaze at you. Through tears and a broken voice he said,

“Well, this is two traditions now broken. Not ‘spossed to see the bride in her gown before the ceremony.”

Your tears fell around the small smile that broke onto your face. Your body slid to the floor and your gown pooled around you. You looked up to the ceiling in defeat. Where do you even start? You had no clue, so you said nothing instead, waiting for him to cast the first stone.

“You look fucking...amazing. I-”

He started to cry again, so you looked at him through your heavy, tear-filled eyelashes.

“Yeah?” you sniffed while chuckling lightly. “I looked a lot better when I wasn't sobbing over almost ruining our marriage before it had even started.

“How dare you say that you ruined it? Y/N, the guys took me out drinking last night. I had too much. I remember you yelling at me for thinking I cheated on you? So, I asked the guys about it this morning and Rog posed the thought that it was him you might have heard, but he wasn't sure. He didn't know you were out in the hall. Not to mention, I should have never been drunk and-”

“B,” you started. “can you just, come here?”

You gave him a lop-sided smile and could tell you looked like you had just beaten up and broken down. Now just realizing the silliness of it all.

He got up from his chair and gently moved your dress out of the way before sitting behind you, putting you between his legs as you lent against his chest, both of you still against the door. You both just sat there wrapped up in each other for a while, when all of a sudden you both burst out into laughter. It wasn't a chuckle either, it was a whole-hearted laughter radiating out from both of you.

“Why are we laughing, again?” you ask still crying a little, but this time from laughing so hard.

“Well, for one, you thought I cheated on you when really it was just Rog being stupid, and two, we are currently in wedding costumes sitting on the floor, making all of our guests wait as we cry over nothing to cry about.” He laughed again and kissed your temple. You didn't respond right away, instead you held his arms that were wrapped around your chest closer to you.

“Can I say something?” Brian almost whispered.

“Of course.”

“If you thought I had cheated on you, why did you still plan on marrying me?”

“Probably the same reason you were in here sobbing all by yourself”.

Another silence. But, a one filled with love and devotion this time.

“And what reason would that be?” He cooed in your ear, then leaning his forehead against the back of your head.

“Because no mistake or fuck up is enough to overpower what we have. I mean... do you remember that time on Ridge Farm when I tripped on that stupid fake rock and split my knee open? You literally cancelled all recording that whole day to ‘nurse me back to health’. Or, that time that I had the flu and you delayed the whole entire Day at the Races tour just to stay home with me? I would never leave you for a mistake. I know it wasn't you now, but at the time, when I did, I knew you weren't having some elaborate affair, you just fucked up once. I didn't mean what I said. I would never leave you. For better or for worse. I know I haven’t said that officially yet but, that doesn't mean I don’t mean it now.”

By now, your body was turned around in his arms and you were facing him. He was lightly crying (still) and so were you.

“You know that I would never leave you either, right? I would also never cheat on you. Also never forget that I will always delay tours and recordings to tend to your bloody knees and runny nose. Please know that, love.”

You looked at him, like truly looked at him for the first time in 24 hours. Brian, your Brian, was no cheating wanker. He loved you. He put you first and last every time, for everything. It was storybook love. This whole situation made you realize that love did indeed exist. It also made you realize that love is stronger than catastrophe. If you two could get through this, and you both wanted to stay even when there was something (seemingly) going terribly wrong, you were both there to stick it out. No matter what.

Brian smiled so sweetly at you. “My beautiful, perfect, princess bride.”

He kissed you with intensity and passion. Both of your eyes closed immediately, and your heart felt full.

When he pulled away, he glanced at the clock and it read five minutes to noon.

“So, wanna get married now? If we’re done with all the drama that is.”

You swatted his chest and laughed before wiping your eyes.

“I need Freddie to help fix my makeup first I look-”

“-so...fucking...beautiful.”

Brian finished your sentence and then helped you to your feet. Before you knew it, you were standing at the alter marrying the man you love. Sometimes tragedy is not what it seems...

taglist (i am just tagging everyone that showed interest in addition to my regular taglist) // @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @what-wicked-delights @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @drivenbybri @cool--cats @iwilltrytobereasonable @deacyblues @anagramsam @candelataylor @b-e-a-u-t-y-of-being-n-u-m-b @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @bookandband @bohemiansweede @oujiacallme @geek-and-proud @theoldestofsouls @rogerina-deacon @11mb0

#brian may fanfiction #Brian May #brian may fluff #brian may blurb #brian may x reader #Queen #queen fanfiction #queen band

78 notes · View notes