#anyway you know that line about a man's brain being like an attic and there only being so much room for information?

[queerholmcs]

I know you can’t put all the unhinged quotes but I must adamantly protest the TAB pick not being “we don’t defeat them we most certainly lose to them”

dhskdhdkdhd ok rebs you do have a point—i concede it. but let's be honest, you're lucky every single one of those quotes wasn't from tfp. i was being so very brave about trying to maintain even a facade of balance there.

[harryskalechips]

one and done Part 3

A/N Hey guys so sorry for a late update but here we are!!!! The last part of the series! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys enjoyed as well! Let me know what you guys think please and also also also thank you for reading!🥰🥰🥰

Side note: I’ll come back and edit my brain hurts

Harry is engaged and having a baby but Y/N is just his best friend’s little sister.

Today’s warning: We are anticipating some heavy smut in this last part. Please prepare for a spitting, spanking, choking, and hair pulling kink, Male receives oral, unprotected sex and just shit like that y’know? I think there is begging in here too LOL OMG they almost had sex outside again but that’s just so inappropriate but yeah... I think that’s all. Oh yes, Y/N rides and just loves being a horny mess hehehe

Word Count: 11k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST /  Part 1 / Part 2

 If there was one thing Y/N was excited about… it was her last summer of high school. As she reflected on her junior year, she was happy Harry and her were finally in a place where she could just reach out to him and be comfortable. Although they didn’t have labels, it was the last thing on their minds as they spent most of their free time together away from Ryan and any other nosy classmate of theirs. Harry also spoke about long roadtrips. Despite him staying home for college, he was excited to drive his girl to different campuses and check out new destination sites around the many different cities. 

They were optimistic they would stay together in the summer yet here they are spending it apart. 

Y/N was in her bedroom sitting on the floor wearing Harry’s sweater as she was staring at the pile of scattered clothes on the floor. It was July 6th and even after a month of grieving for her broken heart, she managed to still wear her ex’s sweater… only because it was the sole object that made her feel like what they had was real. 

They were so on and off throughout the year and the one time they managed to stick together, it was all washed away. Too many signs telling them they were not meant to be. 

But that’s the truth. Y/N thinks to herself as she wipes away a new coming tear falling down her face. Harry and her are not the cliché plot of dating your brother’s best friend. Their relationship was based on lust and ended with unrequited feelings. They are not soulmates. Y/N rests her head against the back of her bed. No matter how much you try to fight it, if you are not meant to be… that’s it. 

“Are you okay?” Ryan stops by her doorway with a plate of late dinner. He was also blatantly oblivious to the fact his little sister was wearing a sweater of his best friend’s. 

“Yeah, why do you ask?” She stares at him with an unamused expression on her face. Her room was a mess, her head was in places where it shouldn’t be and her heart just felt broken. 

“You’ve been in a pissed off mood since last month.” he genuinely states as he walks into his little sister’s room. Maybe before he wouldn’t bother to ask Y/N how she was but the truth is, he is leaving soon and he’s a bit worried with the way Y/N has been taking care of herself. 

“Is it that obvious?” Y/N sarcastically laughs as she throws some clothes away for Ryan to sit on her bed. He places his plate on her desk and takes her offer as he looks around the floor. 

“You haven’t left the house nor have I seen Ness around.”

“I haven’t really been speaking to her.”

“Oh so you guys fought?”

“No, we didn’t. I just haven’t really been feeling social.”

“Y/N, you know you can talk to me right?”

“I know.” Y/N bites the inside of her cheek knowing full well that she’s lying. 

“Will you be coming to the party tomorrow night?” Oh, that’s right. It’s Harry and Carla’s engagement party. 

“That’s why I’m cleaning out my closet.” Ryan laughs a bit as he stands up and pats her head. 

“You don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not the one getting married.” Y/N feels her throat tighten a bit as she watches him leave her room with his plate. She lets out a sigh before rubbing her face in frustration. If she had the choice, she wouldn’t go but that would also show Harry that she cares more than he thinks. It’s been a month and she had to prove that she was over him and over the deal. 

After a couple hours of sulking on her bedroom floor, she finally stands up and takes off his sweater. In the corner of her room is a cardboard box of clothes that were to be packed away and stored in the attic. Without hesitation, she throws the piece of clothing and carries on with her night. 

~

“Y/N, you look beautiful sweetheart.” Her mom waits for her at the bottom of the stairs. The sun was just about to set and it was also time for their family to drive to Carla’s home for the party everyone has been anticipating. 

“Thank you.” Y/N musters a smile as she glances at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out to the car. Her mom was honestly surprised her daughter was all dressed up for the party tonight, there was something off about her but today, it felt like she had a piece of her daughter back again. Saying nothing out loud, she locks the front door and walks with the young girl towards the vehicle.

 Truth be told last night before Y/N fell asleep, she knew today would be her biggest performance. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait for this day to end so she can go back and hide in her room. 

“Hey mate.” Harry smirks as he offers a hug to Ryan. The party had just begun and Harry waited outside the house to wait for his best man to arrive. He was shitting his pants at the moment and the only thing that would make him feel a bit more comfortable at his own party is if Ryan was by his side -like the usual. 

“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Haz.” Ryan tries to hide his disappointment in front of his family. Y/N and her parents stood behind him waiting for the duo to greet each other first. “I thought we would enjoy our bachelor era a bit you know… longer.” Harry tries to laugh as he makes eye contact with the pretty girl. Once the two pull away, he awkwardly laughs and greets Ryan’s parents. 

“Carla is it for me man.” Harry tucks his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “We’ve been together since grade school, I guess it’s time I tie her down to me forever.” Y/N’s mom laughs and pats his shoulder. The five began to walk to the backyard as she spoke up.

“Forget Ryan, I think you two make a lovely couple and are honest soulmates.” Harry glances at her and flashes a small smile. He thought having Ryan here would make him feel more comfortable but there was only one thought that was processing in his head as they walked the stoned pathway. 

This engagement made him feel ten thousand times much worse knowing his in-law family wouldn’t be Ryan’s because the truth is there wouldn’t be anything much better than to have Y/N and Ryan’s parents as his too. 

“Hi.” Carla approaches them with a warm smile on her face. The nude slim dress was impressive on her, especially as it made the diamond on her finger stand out more. She casually wraps her arm around Harry's waist as she takes a sip of the mango smoothie in her other hand. Although the smile on her face seemed genuine, Y/N wanted nothing more than to punch the girl’s face. If Harry was a jealous asshole, Y/N was much worse. Keep it together Y/N, please you don’t care. You don’t care. 

That was the whole idea for the night anyway. Y/N has barely spoken a word since her father parked the car on the side of the road. She was even the last one to exit the vehicle because in all honesty, she didn’t want to unbuckle her seatbelt. Now, She stands beside her dad once again, shying away from the hosts of the party. Although her mom made her feel beautiful today, there was nothing more than to stand in front of the prettiest girl who has constantly been chosen over her. 

“Thank you guys for coming. I’m so happy to meet you all.” Carla smiles as she turns her attention on Harry. She was happy and excited about their future. This whole night felt like a fever dream. Once more she looks at Ryan’s family and speaks up. “There’s a table for your family and dinner will be served out soon. I hope you guys enjoy” She rests her head on her fiancé but notices Y/N staring at her heels. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a bit off.” And that statement was coming from a concerned person who was genuinely curious if the acquainted junior she got to know this year was alright. Y/N gulps as she makes eye contact with Carla. She was also very careful not to look at Harry. 

“Ignore her. She’s been like that for a couple of weeks.” Ryan laughs as he turns around and glances at his sister. “This is your night but I still am wondering why you guys are getting married next month.”

Carla awkwardly smiles and waits for Harry to respond first yet she notices his eyes stay focused on his best friend’s little sister. “We just thought we should get the wedding out of the way before university starts.” Carla squeezes his palm for him to reply to. 

“Don’t worry Ryan. I’m sure we’ll do everything we planned to do.” Harry smirks as he turns his back around to the music that just started to play. “Let’s walk you guys to your table, I believe the party is just about to actually begin.”

/

Throughout the night, Y/N did nothing more than fake a smile and applaud as speakers came to the mic and talked about Carla and Harry’s relationship. Blah blah blah. It was the same old thing really, and if she had the choice deep inside, she would wish she was the one sitting beside Harry talking about other things. 

Dessert was finally available and due to the lack of activities and entertainment this party has brought to her, she waited until the line died down before she could carry her plate towards the table. She internally sighed as some of the choices were gone, leaving her to pick up a red velvet cupcake and two french macaroons on the side. Once she arrived back to her seat, her family that stayed back continued to talk about the two lovebirds. Her father and Ryan seemed to be having an amusing conversation as her mother made a new friend from the table beside them. Compliments after compliments was the only topic tonight, she really needed to take a walk around the unfamiliar neighbourhood after this. 

“Guys, I’m just going inside to use the bathroom.” Her mom nods and acknowledges Y/N’s statement before turning her back once more to talk to another attendee of the party. Grabbing her purse, she excuses herself from the table and shyly walks around the party and towards the sliding door. Once she’s inside the home however, she ignores all the signs that gesture her towards the bathroom and instead makes her way to the front door. Carla’s home was pretty but not enough for her to stay.

“That’s not the washroom.” Harry speaks out as he walks down the staircase re-adjusting the sleeves of his polo. She realized the navy blue blazer he was wearing earlier today was now resting on the ottoman by the end of the railing. 

“I was actually going to go on a walk.” She fixes her gaze on the painting in front of her instead of the boy casually making his way down. 

“It’s a bit late, d-don’t you think.” He scratches his nose and picks up the article of clothing on the chair. He couldn’t help but stutter as his eyes followed the pink dress on the pretty girl. 

“The neighbourhood seems really nice and I’m sure none of the rich families here are going to kidnap me and lock me in their basement.”

“Here.” She notices him walk towards her offering his blazer. “I would invite myself to walk with you but uh I think people would notice.” He rubs his palm against his neck and looks back at the door where the party is. 

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head as she rejects his considerate offer. She continues to unlock the door before looking back at him. “I’ll be back soon. Ryan and my parents think I’m in the washroom.  So if they ask, just say you don’t know. Congratulations, by the way.” She gives him a sad smile and walks out the door. He’s left speechless as he finally realizes this might be the last time things will be normal between them. “Fuck it.” He murmurs to himself as he rests the blazer behind his back and walks out the front door as well.  

“Why are you following me?’ Y/N turns around carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. She was also trying very hard not to fall. Harry’s been distracting her all night, she didn’t realize she was wearing heels despite her goal to go on a night walk. 

“Because I can’t let you walk around this neighbourhood by yourself!” Harry raises his voice as he tries to catch up with her. “God, I told you, you would need this.” He thoughtlessly puts the blazers over her shoulders as they walk down the slope. 

“I promise you, I am not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to be concerned about my whereabouts.” Y/N murmurs as she accepts the fabric and hugs it around her frame. Harry couldn’t help but look away from her as he heard that statement. Before everything went crumbling down, he used to pick her up and know every update from her. He used to watch out for her and just be there for her but even now, it was no longer okay. 

“Who’s going to watch over you when I’m gone.” His voice is a bit more quieter now as they exit Carla’s neighbourhood. 

“I don’t know. I always expected you were going to stay.” She glances at him before walking ahead of him. 

“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry I had to put you through a lot.” He pulls her wrist to make her stop walking. 

“How can I not be mad, Harry?” She closes her eyes, trying to not let the new formed tears in her eyes show. “You constantly choose Carla and the moment you finally break up with her. I get you and then you what… ghost me, break up with me? I don’t hear from you for 2 months only to find out you’re engaged! Fuck you.” She quickly wipes away a tear from her face. “God, I- You cheated on me! Didn’t you?”

“Y/N.” His heart beat drops as her voice raises. Never in his life has he seen Y/N this upset. 

“No. It makes sense. Carla is barely even showing yet. It’s been three months and you…” She steps away from him and looks around. “I don’t know -you didn’t even have the audacity to tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to react when you told me that.” 

“Well you did.. You ignored my calls and continued to see Ryan.” She shrugs her shoulders and sarcastically laughs. “It’s fine. Now that I think about it, maybe I said it in the heat of the moment.”

“I know I messed up.” He bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Carla has always been so familiar to me… and with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

“Like what?” The monotone question rolls off the tip of her tongue.

“The fear I guess. I’m scared of losing Ryan, your family and um, you.” He clears his throat. “It’s just there’s so much on the line when it comes to you and me. Maybe if I tried harder, we wouldn’t be here right now but we are.” 

“Well if it makes you feel better,” She takes a pause and stares directly at him. “I didn’t really mean what I said that day. You freaked out on something that was a typical post orgasm statement.” She lies. 

“Why are you lying?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you trying to hurt me? You think this hasn’t been difficult enough.”

“No, I’m not lying. It’s true.” She attempts to walk again but his hand grabs her immediately letting her know, their conversation is not over. 

“So you’re saying you don’t love me.”

“No, I don’t love you.”

“Bullshit!”

“Harry, I don’t even owe you an explanation!” and sometimes when you force yourself to lie too much, you begin to cry. “Fuck.” He immediately hugs her as she cries on his shoulder. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“I could never leave you alone, you know that right?” He whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms tighter around her frame. 

“You have to. We can’t do this.” Y/N repeats herself as she tries to pull away. His scent is just so fucking intoxicating. It was his scent that made her drastically attached to him and now she knew like from the start, it was time to go. 

“If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” He tries to keep her in his embrace. He was rambling at this point but he had no idea what his goal was. Is he trying to persuade her to stay or to let her go? 

“You made your choices, Harry. All you have to do is lie in it.” She pulls away and wipes away her tears. “We’re just these high schoolers that found a loophole in our deal. Carla though, she has always been the one for you.” 

“You’re right though. I- I guess I always choose her in the end.”

“Make her happy H.” She gives a sad smile and shrugs her shoulders. Despite wanting to punch her face, Y/N knew the look in her eyes as she watched Harry. Carla was always madly in love with him and forever will be. 

Harry and Y/N were just a glitch in the system. 

“I hope I see you again. Maybe Christmas huh?” He looks down at his shoes as the girl gives him back his blazer. 

“Maybe Christmas.” And without a word, Y/N walks back to the house leaving Harry to walk around the neighbourhood himself. 

-

Harry and Carla had just gotten married and on the night of their reception, they announced their pregnancy. Y/N was there. She witnessed the smile on Ryan’s face, on her parents’ face and on Harry’s. Everyone was happy except for her.  

The night left her to play with the food on her plate as it was her only source of entertainment. Broccoli grouped with the carrots suddenly being grouped with the steak. How about we make a snowman? To be honest, moping a bit too much at the event left her clueless to the fact the groom has been watching her all night. 

It wasn’t a choice for him. Of course, he looked at other guests and spoke to Carla throughout the night but for some reason as he mindlessly ate his food and restated his vows to his wife, Y/N was the only thing his eyes could focus on. He’s been looking for her face in every room for a year and to be exact, nothing about his feelings has changed -Except tonight was the last day, he would ever feel like this again. 

There were only three rules Harry gave himself tonight.

Rule 1: Don’t try and make conversation with Y/N.

Rule 2: Don’t beat the guy who offers her a dance.

Last but not least, Rule 3: Don’t tell her you love her.

And it was a success because he watched her walk out with an unfamiliar guy and come back with a flushed neck and red cheeks. He knew she totally got fucked in the washroom and all he did was take a sip of his glass as the fist on his lap began to form once again. 

/

It’s been a week since and her whole house is a mess. She has been currently helping her brother move his things to the moving truck they rented. Her little grieving process was cut short due to the fact, things around her started to change so quickly. Ryan was on his way out of here. Harry and Carla were probably on an island, trying to make another sub baby and Ness started to come by more often. 

The thing about her best friend is that Nessa understands space but she won’t let Y/N peacefully sulk for more than a month. To successfully distract her, the duo have been taking road trips around the cities and visiting different campuses together. Although it was an old plan of her and Harry’s, Y/N couldn’t help but feel delighted to have Ness back once again. 

She cleaned out her room and removed all her old soccer trophies because for some odd reason, they reminded her of Harry. She even went to the measures of blocking his number and deleting pictures from their past dates off her phone. 

She knew she wasn’t ready to let him go but he was now married, living in a new city with his own family. There was no other choice but to forget this shit happened. 

Senior year was just about to begin for Y/N and if there was one thing she needed, it was a fresh start. No love interests, no heartbreaks. Just fun experiences before she leaves this hell hole.

After all, if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.

~

3 years later…

“You’re going to be fucking late.” Ness throws a pillow at her best friend as she enters the room. “You have that plane to catch.” 

“Fuck, what time is it.” Y/N murmurs as she could feel some drool on her pillow case.

“10:30.”

“Fuck!” She sits up immediately and grabs her phone.  Her flight is leaving in an hour and God knows the traffic in Seattle. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!” 

“Because your lazy ass wouldn’t wake up.” Ness walks out of the room and drinks her coffee. She was totally unfazed about her best friend panicking. “Relax.” Y/N gives her a death glare in return  as she brushes her teeth in the kitchen. The two were very used to each other since they’ve not only been best friends for a long time but also roommates after moving to a new city. 

“My brother’s wedding is in two days and I’m not even there yet.” 

“Tell Ryan to choke for not inviting me, by the way.” Ness scrolls though the news feed on her phone as she casually bites into her bagel. 

“Okay, I think I have everything.” Y/N walks out of her room in tights and an oversized sweater. “I really have to go.”

“You’re going to see him again, you know that right?” Ness really didn’t want to be the one to bring him up again but shit, Y/N looked like a dead zombie. 

“It’s fine.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders. She couldn’t care less if she sees Harry again. “The last time I saw him, Carla and him were acting like total love birds at my mom and dad’s thanksgiving party.”

“That was like two years ago.” Ness tries to contain her laugh as she remembers their new pet names. Honey bunny and sweet treat. Oh to be in the honeymoon phase once again. 

“Don’t think I forgot what you used to call Tom.” Y/N laughs as she rolls her luggage to the door.

“Shut up.” Nessa’s eyes widen as she throws a crumb at her. “That’s why I broke up with him.”

“Yeah, yeah. You better answer my call okay?” 

“Yes babe, I know. I love you, take care!” 

“Bye!” 

And after the long haul of successfully boarding the plane, Y/N had five hours before she could finally see Ryan and his soon to be bride in Boston.

 She was definitely nervous. The last wedding she attended was Harry’s and she knew full well how she badly coped with that. Not to mention how she calculated her schedule so she could “accidently” miss Ryan’s engagement party. Truth is, she doesn’t care about Harry but if there was any way she could try and dodge another awkward encounter...that’s what living in another city is for. 

He also wasn’t really an ex but just a person in her life who managed to make her happy and sad at the same time. James had no idea who he was since she believed it was best to make that portion of her adolescence a secret. Just buried along with the other dreams she used to have. 

After watching two movies and playing a random phone game, the plane finally landed. Y/N managed to brush her teeth and make herself look a bit more presentable after a heated run out of her apartment. Once she was at the pick up centre to grab her luggage, her heart beat began to increase signaling that she failed to neutralize her anxiety. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she walked past the crowd of people. There was a constant voice in her head screaming at her to tell Ryan her flight just got cancelled. Unfortunately, Ryan was on time as she could picture his figure right outside the window of the airport.

 “Hey.” Ryan smiles as he gives his little sister a hug. He saw her a couple months ago but time still makes everything different. He’s happy his sister is finally here.

“Hi.” Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blows by them. “I see you got a nice haircut.” 

“I did.” Ryan laughs as he carries his sister’s suitcase into his trunk. 

“I can’t believe you’re getting married Ry! I swear to god, it was only yesterday you were complaining to Harry about his wedding.” Y/N squints her eyes due to the sun shining directly at her. She uses her hand to cover the side of her face as she lets out a joke,“Are you sure about her?”

“Meghan? Absolutely.” Ryan shuts the door as they stand there. “ I didn’t know what Haz was talking about when he told me he wanted to marry Carla but shit, when I met Meghan… I-”

“You’re whipped more than ever.” She smiles as she notices her brother’s cheeks flush. She tried to change the topic immediately after her brother said his name. “I knew Cassidy wasn’t the one.”

“Sure you did.” Ryan rolls his eyes as they sit in his car. “How about you? Any new updates?” 

“No not really.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she puts on her seatbelt. “James and I have been together for a year now which is crazy-”

“I wish the guy could have come to the wedding, didn’t know how serious you guys were.” 

“Honestly, if he didn’t have that internship at the hospital, I would’ve tried and persuaded him some more.”

“It’s okay.” Ryan laughs as he shakes his head. “Meghan found you a date already and I’m sure you’re going to be okay with it.” Y/N eyes widen. 

“I was going to go stag.” She looks out the window in disbelief. It wasn’t her fault, her boyfriend was trying to get into medical school.

“Don’t worry sis. It’s a platonic date -that’s all it is going to be.” Ryan reassures her as he drives out of the parking lot.

“Let me tell James. Just in case, he might get jealous.” She pulls out her phone. “Who is this guy anyway?” 

“I’m not telling you but who knows, James might fly over here just so you don’t go with a random guy.” Ryan smirks as he exits the highway. 

“Who is he?”

“It’s a surprise.” Ryan tries to hide his laugh. 

“Does he know you’re setting me up with him.”

“Please.” Her brother scoffs. “The guy is always too nice, he offered first.”

“Well, shit then.” 

“You’ll get to know him before the wedding I promise. At least, you have company other than mom and dad.” 

“So you’re going to let a random guy just sit at our table?” 

“You have no idea.” And truth be told, Y/N wasn’t worried about the date Ryan and Meghan set up for her. Maybe it was one of Meghan’s family members who thought she was still single. It didn’t matter though because this event was for her brother and that’s all that was important. 

“Oh my god!” Ryan and Y/N’s mother stood outside the house waiting at the driveway for them to arrive. 

“Hi mom!” Y/N gives her a warm hug. “I missed you, where’s dad?”

“He’s inside with-”

“Y/N.” Y/N’s dad steps through the doorframe and meets Y/N at the steps for a hug as well. She knew her father couldn’t walk that much due to his recent hip surgery. What she didn't expect however, was for Harry to be following right behind him. “I missed you darling.”

 “Hi dad I missed you more, I didn’t know Harry was here.” Y/N backs away and turns her back to look at Ryan. He didn’t seem surprised at all as he carried her luggage towards them.

“Hey.” Harry offers a small wave, seeming too quiet. He kept his hands behind his back as he observed the girl in front of him. It’s been two years and a lot has changed. Y/N thought he would still have his long hair yet it is very evident, he had a haircut as well. He also seemed much more muscular as well as the new addition of tattoos on his arm. While she stared at him, she didn’t realize Harry was noticing all the different features she had too. Her hair was longer and darker and she carried a different aura than before. She didn't look like the girl whose bedroom he used to sneak into. 

“Hi Harry.” Y/N didn’t know how to start a conversation with him. 

“I guess you met your date.” Ryan walks ahead of them and laughs as he continues to bring in the bags. 

“Harry's my date?” Y/N asks in shock as she follows him behind. Her mom slaps her arm as Harry and their dad follow. 

“Don’t act offended, You’ve known Harry since you were a kid.” 

“Aren’t you married though.” Y/N turns her back and looks at Harry before facing the front again as she suddenly became distracted by the house’s decorations. 

“I actually got divorced.” Harry bites his tongue right after. 

“See, now look what you did. You embarrassed the young boy.” Y/N’s mom rubs his back as she murmurs to him. “I’m sorry, Haz.” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, trying to act as if the topic didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.  

“I’m sorry too.” Y/N finally looks at him once more. “I had no idea.”

“It’s been a year. That’s what happens when you marry too young.” He laughed it off but everyone ignored that statement as they all knew there was a deeper cut in his heart.

When Carla was around 5 months, she had a miscarriage and although, they claimed they would try again… there was no new announcement after that. 

“Y/N, this is your room.” Ryan tries to change the topic as he scratches his head. 

“Thank you.” She steps inside for a bit of privacy after a long flight. Ryan and Harry along with her parents went back to the living room to go and continue their movie.  

~

Today is Ryan’s wedding and the house was giving her many little flashbacks of Harry’s. The family was in this foreign home and was still running around getting ready. Her mother was screaming at her dad as he decided last minute to steam his suit. Ryan and Meghan were gone which left Harry and Y/N the only victims to her mother’s loudness. The two kept quiet as her mother ran around the house doing her hair and calling relatives for updates. Y/N managed to be ready on time so it let her sit on the couch looking at the photos in which mehgan has framed around the room. 

“Your dad said I should drive you to the venue now. I think they’re definitely running late.” Harry speaks up after two days of ignoring her. The truth is last night when he went to the kitchen he saw Y/N sitting down on one of the counters and maybe if it was three years ago, he would’ve spoken to her but something about now told him to go back to his bedroom. He used to feel comfortable around her but now he’s walking around her as if he was on eggshells. He was so fucking nervous. 

“Okay.” She agrees with him. Harry was the best man and she didn’t want him to be late because of her parents. Y/N puts her phone in the purse resting on her shoulder as she follows him out of the house. She would’ve been a bit more calm if she didn’t end her call with James midway through their fight. 

“Um A-Are you okay?” He opens the door for her as he tries not to check her out. It was definitely difficult however as the way her long hair was styled and the pretty dress she wore. Luckily for Y/N, while Harry was doing some errands at home, she managed to “observe” him in his suit.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She lets out a small smile as she realizes Harry was still driving his car back from high school. You know the vehicle they had sex i- 

“Alright.” The man breaks her out of the thought as he starts the car. “I promise tonight isn’t going to be weird around us.” 

“Who said it was?”

“I don’t know I guess I just assumed.” He bites his cheek as he glances at her. That’s when the déjà vu hits and he feels like he’s eighteen years old again. She keeps her eyes on the road yet she had no idea that Harry was picturing her seventeen year old self sitting in the seat beside him. One of his favourite memories to be exact. 

Flashback*

 “So you’re kidnapping me to go camping in the woods.” Y/N smiles as she watches the unfamiliar road in front of them. Harry takes his shades off and passes it to the girl as he notices the sun is shining much more brighter than before. 

“Hey, you got permission from your parents.” He smirks at her as he keeps his hand on the gear stick.

“They think I’m sleeping over at Nessa’s.” Y/N laughs as she puts on the shades and looks at him. His cheeks turn red as he catches the sight of the pretty girl wearing everything of his. 

“Is little Y/N scared of the dark?” His hand smoothly travels to her thigh. 

“I am not.” Y/N chokes on her breath. It was bad enough Harry looked so hot whilst he was driving. 

“I think you are.” He notices her breathing becoming a bit more short. “You and me in a tent alone in the dark.” His hand goes a bit more south, gipping her inner thigh. 

“I have a surprise for you.” She blurts out. She was also seconds close to making Harry pull over to the side of the road. 

“And what is that?”

“I’ve been wearing a plug and I’m ready.” The speed of the car increases a bit as he mindlessly presses his foot to the sound of her voice. He looks at her one more time before taking over the car in front of them. 

“Fuck then. My baby once again proves that she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

End of flashback*

The venue was beautiful. Ryan and Meghan chose this beautiful garden that had tulips growing everywhere. The white gazebo was obviously where the wedding would take place as the reception was only a stoned pathway ahead. Since Harry was the best man and Y/N was his date, she managed to follow him around the place as he spoke to the event planner and the maid of honour. She had a whole tour of the location as Harry spoke about the party’s process to her. Not only that, but he was an amazing date -he kept his hand on her back and introduced her to people she didn’t know. 

Currently, she was sitting on the bench watching Harry talk to some familiar faces. They seemed like a few boys Ryan and he would hang out with back in high school. She was mindlessly watching him laugh and smile throughout the conversation until she didn’t realize he was already staring at her. After excusing himself, he walked back towards her. 

“I’m sorry, If I’m boring yeh.” Harry rubs his neck as he sits down beside her. The wedding was about to start in a couple of hours. 

“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs as she keeps her eyes on the lake behind him. She suddenly remembers their camping trip. She shakes her head at the thought and shrugs her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“About the wedding?” He pulls down the sleeves of his dark grey suit. She nods her head and waits for him to continue. “I’m happy Ryan is marrying Meghan. It’s funny how he thought he would stay single for long.”

“I remember him telling you that when you were engaged.” She bites the inside of her cheek. She definitely just put her foot in her mouth again. She was definitely known for that but Harry didn’t seem fazed at all about her statement. 

“I mean don’t get me wrong, Weddings are a bit difficult to attend at the moment just because I know mine didn’t end well but um…” He clears his throat and faces himself more towards her. “I also got married knowing I wasn’t really in love with the girl.”  Y/N finally looks at him as she watches the familiar green eyes say the truth. 

“I know.” She nods her head again. “Things are different now and I hope you do find the girl that you are 100% about.”

“Yeah.” He looks at the patch of flowers in front of them. He would tell her what he thinks but he knows she’s dating someone. 

“Let’s go check out your brother.” Harry stands up and offers his hand out. “I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.”

And so the event continued. Y/N’s parents arrived and so did the other guests. The beautiful girl in her wedding dress walked down the aisle and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl sitting in the crowd. 

It was simple for him, he knows he’s not over her but he wouldn’t tell her that.

Would he tell her that he started coming home more after Carla’s miscarriage in hope of seeing her? No.

He definitely can’t tell her that he was hurt. He would come over to their house only to find out she wasn’t home or when he found out she was moving to Seattle for college. 

After the past two years, Ryan briefly mentions her and James and he felt like he no longer had a chance. At least with her. 

So standing beside Ryan as his best man felt like a total shot in the heart because Harry knew he wasted his time and lost the girl as well. 

Y/N catches his eyes watching her and just for a moment, she wished things were different too. 

~

When the reception started, Harry and Y/N along with her parents sat at one of the tables close to the bride and groom

 The hosts were right however, as Harry fit perfectly with the family. Throughout dinner, he made jokes and started conversing with her parents more than she thought. Although he gave her some attention, he didn’t fail to compliment her mother as well. 

The two sat together eating dessert as he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. “I’ll let you have a bite out of my brownie if I can steal a bite from your cake.” Harry smirks as he takes a sip of his glass of tequila. He wasn’t trying to get drunk but a little strong (strong) alcohol should cause no harm. Y/N casually steals the glass from his hand and takes a sip as well. 

The two were finally much more comfortable with each other after spending the day side by side. Harry laughs as he takes his fork and steals a bite of her cake. The red velvet flavour melting in his mouth as he watches the girl swallow the rest of his drink. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit quenched.” Y/N laughs as she puts the glass down and stabs her fork back into her cake. His fork immediately swats hers away. 

“I’m not done with my bite.” He teases her as he pulls the small plate towards him. Y/N mouth drops.

“You guys fight like children.” Her dad speaks up and smiles at the scene in front of them. 

“He asked to steal a bite but he stole the whole plate.” She laughs as she watches him shove numerous tiny bites in his mouth. Y/N mom laughs as she smiles at the cheeky boy.

“I said you can have some of my brownie but you proceed to finish my drink.”

“You seem a little drunk anyway.” She lies as she leans forward to take the brownie from his plate.

“Want some shots.” Harry blurts out as he finishes the dessert. “You finished my drink so I’m heading back to the bar… you still might be a bit quenched.”

“Okay.” She laughs as the two excuse themselves from the table.

~

“Do you remember the scrunchie on my wrist and you called me out on it.” Harry slowly dances with Y/N as the night continues on. The event was almost over but all the attendees were on the dance floor dancing to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. As a proper stellar date, Harry didn’t hesitate to ask the girl for a dance as he knew last time he missed out.

“I know you stole it.” Y/N laughs as she unconsciously rests her head on his shoulder. The truth is when in doubt, Y/N always drinks a bit more than usual. It seems whenever Harry is around, she can’t help but be drunk. 

“Oh really?” He pulls away and laughs. “I was going to tell you an old story but you already know.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks at the people surrounding them. Nobody was shocked to see how close they were dancing. Everyone was in their own little bubble and maybe if Y/N and Harry didn’t break the ice or drink a bit, they would definitely not be as bold as they are right now. 

“No! You have to tell me now.” Her eyes widen as she readjusts her hands on her shoulders. Harry smirked at her anticipation as he willingly rests his hands back on her waist. 

“It was the first night we made the deal.” He whispers quietly hoping no one would hear them. “It was on your vanity and I took it after you sleepily threw my clothes at me.” They both laugh at the old memory. 

“I saw you wearing it during the game.” 

“So did you always watch me back then? Probably just wanted to get into my pants.” Y/N cheeks flush as she hides her face away from him. 

“You’re acting as if I never caught you staring right back at me.” 

“True.” he twirls her around. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you after that deal you offered.” Y/N immediately pulls away after he hears the statement roll of his tongue.

“Harry, I know tonight has probably been the most normal conversation we had with each other but… We can’t go back there.” She walks off the dance floor, making him follow her without hesitation. Instead of going back to their table however, she makes a b line to the unlighted pathway of the garden.

“Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry I ruined the moment.” He unbuttons the top of his vest seeing his blazer was still on his chair. “I spoke about fight club-”

“You remember that?” Y/N slows down her speed and turns around. “It’s been three years and you still remember it?” 

“Why don’t you?” Harry turns his back around to notice the bushes covering them from the rest of the party. 

“Of course I do but you got married and moved away. I just thought that would slip your mind.”

“Well it didn’t.” He musters up a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, can we go back to the party and pretend I didn’t mess this up.” 

“It’s not about you messing up H. It’s the fact that I still get flashbacks of you and I -and seeing you here again is making me feel like the past three years didn’t happen.”

“I didn’t see you during Christmas.” He blurts out as he watches her sigh. “Any holiday except thanksgiving to be exact.”

“Well, I moved to Seattle and couldn’t book a flight home every time of the year.”

“Carla is dating someone new.” Y/N nods her head. “And I’m still not able to get you out of my head.” 

“You might just ghost me next time around.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she tries her best not to trip over herself as she walks a bit further into the pathway. 

“I told you I regret doing that.” He continues to follow her. “It’s been three years and you’re still mad about it.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just saying whenever it’s you and I, you tend to ghost me and run back to Carla.”

“If it makes you feel better, I could give a fuck less what Ryan thinks of us. It’s why I asked him if I could be your date.”

“I have a boyfriend Harry! An actual boyfriend who waits for me after work everyday. A boyfriend who actually replies to my calls-”

“He hasn’t even met Ryan or your parents!” 

“And-” 

“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is I don’t care about this fucking guy!” Harry sternly walks towards her until he backs her up to a wall of vines. 

“Then why are you trying to talk about our old memories and shit like that.”

“Because,” He pauses as he thoughtlessly rests his hands on either side of her head. “I fucking care about you. The moment Carla had a miscarriage and she needed me the most, I needed you! I didn’t realize I let you go the moment I went back to her.” 

“Harry…”

“So it’s true, you didn’t love me.” He pulls away but Y/N brings her hands up to his face to keep his eyes on her. 

“Of course, I did.” Y/N cries as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you think that would be true? You called me out on it before.”

“I came back every couple of months hoping to see you at home with your parents. You were always gone.” 

“Did you actually?”

“Fuck.” He pulls away and runs his hand through his short hair. He swore he would never tell her this. Is this how desperate he is now.  “Yeah, of course I did. I knew you would leave for college but I wish I knew from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not even your fault.” He laughs as he hugs her. “I want you back.” His arms wrap around her much more tightly than before. “Please.”

“James-”

“Do you love him?”

“Harry, don’t ask that?”

“No, I want to know.”

“Well I don’t know because after what you did-”

“Then you still love me.” He looks up at her in hope she would say yes. Just admit it, please.

“Okay and if I do -what do I do now? I like James and although it hasn’t been long I’m sure something will change.”

“Can’t you see?” He directs her back to the wall of vines. “You were always mine the same way, I was always yours.”

“The loophole of our deal.” She mumbles out loud as her hands mindlessly hold onto his forearms. 

“The deal has always meant more to me than it should’ve.”  He whispers as the sound of music and distant chatter is the only thing they can hear.

And I want to tell you everything

The words I never got to say the first time around

And I remember everything

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

Wish I was there with you now

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

“Just kiss me already.” Y/N watches him as she lets out one more breath. Without hesitation he kisses her as the grip on her waist tightens. Y/N’s hands immediately play with the curls that reach the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” His soft lips rub on her left cheeks as he rubs himself on her. His hands begin to wonder in disbelief that she’s in his arms again. Her scent clouding his thoughts that they haven’t even noticed they’re still at a party.

“I want you.” Her hips raise itself on him as she rests her back on the cement behind her. “Harry, please.”

“We’re going home.” He bites his lip as his eyes darken. Without even thinking of what others would say, he mindlessly holds her hand as they walk out of the secluded space. The two didn’t bother telling anyone they were leaving the party as he basically dragged the poor girl to his car. 

“Do you even know how to get inside Ryan’s house.” She giggles as she keeps herself close to his arm. He takes his blazer and rests it on her shoulders back like a few years ago.  

“I have my ways.” He smirks as he helps her inside the vehicle. 

This whole event felt like déjà vu. The wedding, the car ride, the quick secret escape from a party just to have sex. If there was one thing Y/N and Harry were good at, it’s probably how good they were at keeping themselves as a secret. 

“I’ve missed you more than I thought.” Y/N bites her lip as she rests her head on the seat, watching Harry drive.

Him in his suit too focused on driving them home made her want to fuck his brains out. Truly. 

Harry’s cheeks flush as he takes her hand into his. “I’m no longer that frat boy you used to know. I’m much nicer.” 

“Oh really, in what ways?” she smirks as she eyes the growing bulge in his pants.

“I promise you won’t be able to leave my room tonight that’s for sure.”

“Then I’m happy.”

/

Moist air, dark night, and bodies clinging to each other as Harry struggled to open the front door. As the groom’s best friend, of course he had keys to his house. Y/N couldn’t help but keep her hands on his slim torso as there was something about just holding them that was driving her crazy. 

“Fuck, your parents are going to wonder where we are.” 

“I don’t fucking care.” Y/N licks the side of his neck before running inside. She’s trying to laugh quietly as she attempts to take off her heels. Harry being the responsible one, he texts Y/N’s dad they went home. Afterwards, he stops by Y/N’s room to lock it before he follows the girl into his room. 

Once he locks the door, he realizes Y/N managed to take all her clothes off as she laid on his bed. “For fuck’s sake.” He mumbles to himself as he forgot how horny and crazy Y/N can be. He rubs the slight stubble on his chin as he watches the girl bite her lip and roll in his sheets. “You’re such a little devil aren’t you?”

“Like I said I missed you.” She fakes her confidence as Harry crawls up to meet her on the mattress. His finger takes the lip out between her teeth as his lips move forward to kiss her once again. His goal was to lay her down and kiss her naked body but it seemed like Y/N had other plans in mind. Her arms push him away as she kneels on the mattress. Keeping her eyes on him, she unbuttons the rest of his vest before spreading her palms over where his heart beat. Harry is speechless but the moment she began to unbuckle his belt he had to say something.

“Oh I see.” He smiles as his hand holds Y/N’s chin to his face. “I thought my girl really did miss me but it seems like she missed my dick a bit more huh? You want it?” He grips her face a bit harder as her hands maintain on his waistline. She nods shyly as she tries to continue her action. 

“Fine, do what you want but I’m not done with you yet.” His voice softens as his hand immediately brushes the soft hair away from her face. His green eyes watch her drool over him as she unzips his pants. His hands on the flip side continued to remove the white long sleeve off his body. “Take it in your mouth. I know you’re dying too baby.” Y/N cheeks turn red as her tongue peaks out to kiss his hard cock. The funny thing is, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him despite being a horny mess. Sex was never the same if it wasn’t with harry and that was a fact because the moment she put him in her mouth, he pushed himself harder until he could feel the back of her throat. 

The constant humming and gagging sounds wasn’t enough for him because the moment he pulled himself out of her little wet hole. He pulls her hair harder to keep her eyes on him. Without even hesitating, he spits in her mouth and puts his dick back in. From the way Y/N’s eyes rolled back, he knew full well that this was his girl and some things don’t change...especially the way she reacts to him. 

“Are you going to let me fuck your mouth baby?” He moans quietly as he softly strokes her scalp. “How many times are you going to make me cum huh?” Y/N chokes a bit as he thrusts himself at a faster rate. “Always so pretty aren’t you dove?” He pulls himself out and slaps her tit. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers as kisses her lips once more. His mouth thoughtlessly kisses down the side of her neck as his hands press and grope on her tits. 

“I want you everywhere.” His eyes watch her dilated ones as he slowly pushes her down the mattress. 

“Hm, I don’t think you want to as much I thought?” He teases her as one of his fingers pops into his mouth and later into hers.

“You want me to beg?” Her tongue swirls around his digit as she lays helplessly on his pillows. “Never.”

“Never?” Harry laughs as his wet fingers pretended to walk down her body to her heated centre. “When did my baby become such a brat?” The devious smirk plays on his face as his tongue licks the side of his mouth. 

“I’ve always been a brat.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to fuck you is that what you’re saying?” His hands immediately stop teasing her as he begins to jerk himself off -slowly but surely. 

“I do.” She tries to sit up but his hand pushes her back down immediately. “Harry, please?”

“Is that you begging me?” He laughs as his thumb wipes a bead of precum on his dick. “I would rate that three out of ten, Extra point because good girls say please.” 

“Baby...” Y/N moans out as she tries to reach for him but Harry’s hands immediately grabs them and places them above her head.

“Just beg a bit better and maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard, love. You said it before so show me you want me.”

“Daddy please fuck me.”

“Like music to my ears.” He spreads her legs open and pushes himself inside her. “Fuck.” It’s always the condom that gets to him. 

“No, stay.” She whines as she holds onto his wait. “Please, I’m on birth control and James and I don’t really-”

“What?” His eyes widen as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What did you say?”

“He’s an intern at this hospital so he’s just always been busy.” She whispers in embarrassment. Don’t get her wrong, she has sex just not as much as she thought she should.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbles as he thrusts himself a bit harder into her. “No one has taken care of you in a while huh?” He bends down and kisses her again. The soft wet licks stay longer as he hears the beat of her heart. It was beating fast just like his. 

“Mhm. Please Harry just fuck me.” She cries out as she takes his fingers back into her mouth.  His thrusts become harder and harder as he watches her face cry in pleasure. “Oh daddy, fuck.” 

“So fucking good. You’re such an angel oh shit.” His palm immediately chokes her. He couldn’t help but watch how her tits move up and down due to the force he’s putting into her. 

“Let me ride you.” Her hips thrust up and meet him. Her mouth opens wide at the feeling. 

“You sure about? Sure you can still take me?” His hand gives her a little slap to the cheek. 

“Of course I can.” Y/N smirks. Harry immediately pulls himself off her as he lays down on the mattress himself. “You think I’m going to let you fuck me all night long. I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out.”

“Y/N,” He smirks as he watches her straddle him. “You think you can fuck my brains out? You seem pretty fucking confident, baby.” He flicks her nipple which makes her press herself deeper onto his dick. 

“I can.” She closes her eyes as Harry watches the moonlight shine on her face. 

“Yeah, then show me.” He slaps the side of her thigh more harder than before. “Fuck me. Just use me then.”

“Just promise I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” her hands slide down to his waist.

“Promise.” He bites his lip and watches their wet desperate centres meet. 

And in that moment, there was nothing but lust in their eyes as they fucked back and forth. Y/N moaning as Harry continued slapping her ass. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips as well due the fact there was nothing better than feeling Y/N’s desperate pussy clenching for more. 

“Go on all fours.” He cries out after a few more rounds. Y/N wasn’t lying since she definitely fucked his brain out. There was nothing on their minds other than jumping each other’s bones over and over again. 

 Once she’s in position, he slaps her ass once again before putting himself back in. 

“Oh god, shit baby.” Y/N bites the end of his pillowcase as she keeps her hands on the headboard. “You’re so big, I can’t anymore fuck.”

“I know you have one more in you, come on baby.” He pulls her hair and slaps her ass once more. 

“Fuck!” She moans out as she feels his wet spit travel down her pussy.  Harry immediately thrusts harder as the sweat on his neck begins to bother him. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but he needed Y/N to cum one more time.

“God, fuck me.” Harry moans out as Y/N finally cums one more time around him. Without even thinking, he releases himself inside of her and pulls her hair harder one more time. She immediately falls down as she can’t feel a thing. Harry felt her clench around him despite his need to pull himself off her. 

“Baby, you have to let go.” He kisses the back of her shoulder and grips the side of her waist.

“Please don’t go.” She cries out and wipes her tears on the pillowcase. Harry slowly pulls himself off and lays on the bed beside her. He puts himself back in and wipes her tears away.  His arm pulls her closer to him as he whispers one more thing into her ear.

“I love you.” 

~

“Glad to see you two are awake.” Y/N’s mom waits in the kitchen as she makes pancakes on the stove. “Ryan and Meghan left last night right after the reception.” She suspiciously keeps her eyes on the two as they walk together to the breakfast table. “Harry, thank you for leaving the door unlocked. We came home around one last night.” Oh shit did they hear us? Y/N looks at Harry who seems bothered as he takes a sip of the coffee in his mug. 

“I didn’t hear you two.” She brings the plate to the table. “If you’re wondering Y/N.”

“Mom, it’s not what-” Her cheeks flush in an embarrassment. 

“Oh please, don’t bother lying. I already lied, Harry was the one who opened the door for us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “And Harry, don’t bother giving me an excuse. It makes sense.” She sits down with the two of them. “You always kept visiting us back home and the way your eyes watched her when she came here after her flight gave it all away.”

“Not to mention, you answering the door shirtless and Y/N not responding when we knocked on her door last night.” Y/N’s dad appears with a newspaper in hand. 

“Does Ryan know?” Harry looks at Y/N and puts a pancake on her plate. Does her parents even know she’s wearing his clothes?

“Ryan saw you two leave together.” Y/N’s mom laughs. “Don’t worry, it was him and Meghan’s idea to also try and pair you guys together.”

“Wait so he’s okay with it.” Y/N speaks up after murmuring a thank you to Harry. 

“Of course he is, Y/N. You guys are no longer teenagers right? So make your own choices for Christ’s sake.” Her mom states in disbelief. 

“Did you know I’ve been seeing her back in high school?”

“Harry.” Y/N’s dad’s tone changed. Sounded a bit like disappointment. 

“Oh god, there is more to the story?” Y/N’s mom rolls her eyes. “Alright, eat up everyone, you two have to tell us everything.”

~

“So this is it.” Y/N smiles as she sits in his car. The two were currently at the airport. “I had no idea, you relocated to Boston. It makes sense why you had so many things in your room back at Ryan’s house.”

“Yeah, I transferred last year. I’m hoping to finish here, graduate and then see what else I can do.” 

“What do you think this means for us?” She puts her shades on as she pulls on the sleeves of her light sweater that she was wearing over her collared shirt. 

“It means that this is when I ask you if you would please be my girlfriend.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she hides her face in her hands. 

“Are you for real?” She laughs. 

“Yes.” He smirks as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. 

“I will be your girlfriend, Harry.” 

“Good. You’re breaking up with James right.” Y/N rolls her eyes and nods. 

“I’m ending it with him, the moment I land back in the city.”

“Make some space, I might move there.” He lightly jokes but there was some truth in it. Meghan and Ryan were married, there was no need for him to take up some space in their house. 

“Sure, you’ll love Seattle and Ness is there too.” 

“I like that. Will you introduce me to your ex?” Y/N laughs as she opens her door. 

“No.” but right before she can get out, his hand pulls her back in for a kiss. Once their lips touch, he looks at her once again.

“I love you.” He genuinely states as he watches her eyes melt in happiness. 

“I love you too.” She smiles and kisses him once more. “Bye, Harry.” She hugs him across the platform and kisses his cheek too. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more. Call me later tonight when you land yeh?” 

“Okay.” She pouts. She had to catch a flight and be away from him for at least one more year. 

“I love you okay, baby.” He kisses her forehead. “Bye.”

“Bye.” And with that, Y/N steps out of the car and watches him drive away. She has a plane to catch and he has some sheets to clean but that doesn't change the fact, they are finally together.

And everyone knows it. 

Fini! 

---------

Taglist:  @f-flourishing , @nataliedahlia , @florenceskies , @much-love-tay , @goldenxstyles7 , @sixwyrxstuff , @y0uresogolden , @gucciantidote , @kikisparadise18 , @muffpuff23 , @stylessugarhigh , @f-vasquezp , @alwaysclassyeagle

[mavisartstuff]

Someone asked about it, so here's some context! I'm gonna split the hcs about the au into characters and story so it'd be a bit easier -

Billy

Billy in this au is in college. He's there there so he could be an actor! Now technically you probably don't need a degree to become one, but he really just kinda said fuck it and went to get one anyway.

He did it end up starting it a bit late due to some family issues.

He still makes fun of Romeo and Juliet. So far that he still goes "I should've been Juliet!" Bet you could hear some of the sorority girls roll their eyes at his rant about the movie. He rants about it anytime you mention it to the man

Jess do be his bestie even though he makes fun of her accent- He usually gets told off by Barb since he for some reason has one like a British professor

He can weirdly mimick anything he hears perfectly. Claude? He's got you. Anyone in the sorority house? Yep. He can do that. Which is why everyone in the house thinks he has a promising career up ahead of him

Claude only hangs around Billy. No one knows why. That's why he's termed as the "cat king". Also because he'd come back with cat fur all over his sweater

He's tired asf but still fabulous

He's also basically friends with everyone in the sorority house due to just being really social. Though he does have those days where he's just like "go away :(". This mainly happens when he's stressed or just not feeling it that day

He's actually pretty smart since he'll just start analyzing anything he randomly takes In interest in. The girls usually ask for help or just borrow a note sheet he might've written notes on. Though sometimes it's not helpful since 1. It could be about anything and 2. He absolutely hates it if you go through his stuff. So you'd have to ask him for one

Maarten (or our moaner in this case)

Now this man is tall. Very tall. No one knows how he's managed to walk around and about In the attic. If you include his flip outs as well. But man he's pretty stealthy

How did a Dutch man get all the way in Canada on his own? No one knows

He's obviously pretty paranoid. Just even the thought of being spotted makes him freak out a bit

His calls are just like the original Billy's. But he will up the anti If he so ever feels like you're not effected by It. He'll even alter It a bit if you tell him that you're a guy

Instead of his past being like Billy's however, his is more so has violence. Which is where the line "You violent little shit!" comes from.

Has stolen Claude away for a bit. Usually whenever he feels cold. Otherwise he let's Claude go if the fella wants out of the attic

has a lot of bandages due to accidentally hurting himself up in that attic. Smashing glass, falling asleep on the floor on his arm, anything.

He tends to sing a lot. He only does it when he's the only one at the house of course

unlike Billy, he will respond If you start questioning a bit. As in he gets worse

Story (giving everyone a lil tidbit!) Tw for cussing and Maarten overall being deranged- If you've heard the Billy phone calls you'd know what I mean

-The party had been pretty boring for Billy. Of course it was fun discussing stuff with everyone, but once the girls started bringing up their boyfriend's.. He just got pretty bored. He sat on the couch with Claude in his lap. Claude was vibrating. Of course he was just happy to get attention. Billy on the other hand had been zoning out. He wanted to go up to his room. But if he did he'd certainly be asked about It In the morning. He sighed. He hoped something eventful would happen. Or for the party to just end already. But to his surprise, It's like his prayer for something eventful had been answered. Not in the way he thought though.

The phone rang. Billy's brain perked at the ringing. Someone calling this late? Who could it be? He carefully removed king Claude from his lap and got up. He walked up to the table holding that phone. He answered the phone in his usual happy voice. "Helloo?" Oh, the insanity that phone call was. It started out with noises. Random noises. Laughter. Pig oinks. The girls had gathered around at that point. Finally, the man on the other end had finally said something at least understandable to hear. "Let me lick It, lick it! Let me lick your pretty piggy cunt" Followed by laughter and repeating of what he'd just said previously. Billy just laughed a bit. "I mean.. I'd be down if you go for guys" Billy said jokingly. The horror in the girls eyes when Billy said that. Billy was used to these prank calls. Hell, he's watched past friends make them. That was his usual response to said call. Everyone hoped the man on the other end would stop. But.. He didn't. "Oh? You want my juicy cock anyway? Or do you want me to beat you senseless?"

Billy felt himself go cold. "E-Excuse me?" Billy asked nervously. It's been awhile since he's had to deal with... Threats. The look of horror just grew on the rest of the girls faces. "Yeah! So you want me to? Huh? You filthy fuck?!" The man on the other end asked ever so tauntingly. Barb rolled her eye's and took the phone. "How about you go somewhere else for whatever the fuck you're on about" She hissed. His taunting didn't stop. "How about you suck-" Before then, Barb had interrupted him. "Oh go stick your dick in an electrical outlet and see If that gives you a charge" The girls laughed a bit at that. Billy giggled quietly. But he still had a nervous smile on his face. There was a short silence on the other end. "I'm going to kill you" The man on the other end said before hanging up. The way he said that was.. Frightening. So.. Normal. Before that the man had been speaking in different voices. Barb at that point just put it back. Of course as usual, an argument had started after a few bickering. With Claire leaving the room to get packed In the end. Billy at that point nervously sat on the couch.

Jess took note of It. She leaned down a bit. "You should probably head to bed.. You look tired. Especially after hearing that" She whispered. "Thank you.." Billy thanked before getting up. He started heading up the stairs. Of course, Claude noticed and followed. Billy started thinking. He remembered talking to a man about his missing brother. Could that be him?.. It was impossible. The guy he was told about disappeared at the age of fourteen. All the way In the Netherlands mind you. He just couldn't think that he'd somehow get all the way here. As he thought this he'd finally made it to his room. He let Claude in before closing his door. He walked over to the bed and laid down. Claude jumped on his chest immediately. Billy was used to that. He sat there. Creaking came from the ceiling above him. He started getting nervous again. Only to reinsure himself that the attic was old.. No one could get up there without being caught. He still couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched though....

[szynkaaa]

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too! 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her? 

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question? 

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls? 

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down?? 

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases 

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up. 

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD 

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide. 

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on. 

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs. 

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask  + the burns 

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just  a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later. 

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all. 

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t  r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him. 

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed. 

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine. 

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism? 

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin? 

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right. 

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute. 

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed??? 

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space. 

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too??? 

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :((( 

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner 

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner. 

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it? 

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao. 

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks: 

[protectoroffaeries]

2, 5, 7, 8, 37, 39, 40?

2. a song with a good horns section

short skirt/long jacket - cake

-first weekend getaway with my partner, we go to this inn that is significant to us both

-there was really fucking cool attic attached to our room that had a stairwell to a skylight in the center

-we sat on the stairs & made out for a long time

-this song came on the shuffle like a ridiculous amount of times during that & so i forever associate it with that memory

-anyway the horn(s?) (i will admit to not being able to tell what specific kind it is/there are) in this song fuck

5. a song with sick drums

seven nation army - the white stripes

-i actually learned to play the bassline for this song as one of the early things i did when i started playing guitar

-so for years that was the aspect that was emphasized in my head

-but i heard a cover recently that really emphasized the drums & then when i went back to the original i was like damn wait it WAS always going this hard on drums

7. a song you love in a time signature that isn’t 4/4

wuthering heights - kate bush

-this song is actually in 4/4 at times but it switches to 2/4 and 3/4 (according to google the word for that is "polyrhythmic" lmao)

-this is my favorite song that isn't strictly 4/4 & just generally one of my favorite songs, rhythm deets notwithstanding

-it's such a unique song in a lot fun ways & kate bush's voice is iconic

-it's also iconic to write a song about a famous piece of literature when you only saw the last few minutes of the movie adaptation

-honorable mention is mrs. robinson - simon & garfunkel (which is 2/2)

-half the reason that i like this song is cause i got a great-grandmother named mrs. robinson & my family had a habit of singing the chorus to her when i was a child

8. a song with a killer bass line

longview - green day

-a friend of mine & i were just talking about the bass in this song like two days ago

-i like green day quite a lot

-my sister ended up at a green day concert like a month ago (& heard this song live) without realizing green day was fucking playing before she arrived. who does that.

37. a song that legitimately makes you cry

saturn - sleeping at last

-i am not really one to cry because of music & so this was the only one i could think of off the top of my head

-this song makes deeply emotional every time i hear it, there is something about the way the opening instrumental sets the stage for the lyrics that really winds me so like by the time he starts singing im like Oh Fuck

-it's so hopeful yet so melancholy 😭 like perfectly bittersweet in all the ways that being alive is

39. a song you recommend to the person asking this

love like ghosts - lord huron 

-scrolled thru ur blog & then thru my spotify likes so that the two could connect in my brain

-frankly i think this whole album (strange trails) could be a vibe for u

-i know im like, generally pretty mainstream in my taste so i recognize there is a certain likelihood that u know & already have an opinion on this song 

-so here is my disclaimer: I Do Not Control The Vibes

40. a song you just really wanna talk about

omaha - counting crows

-there are dozens of songs i really want to talk about (i have written analyses of like. all my favorite songs)

-this is the one i've been talking about most recently though

-august and everything after is my current favorite album (lmao & omaha is only my second favorite song from it)

-anyWAY: someone mentioned to me that this song could be interpreted as a critique of american christianity & i felt big dumb for not coming to that conclusion on my own 

-it's got some pretty glaring refs to chrisitanity in the lyrics but they're presented in a way i would call fairly casual (the whole song has a deceptively casual delivery i think) 

-also the opening (before the first verse) is Powerful, it's one of those openings that if im not appreciating it properly I WILL restart the song

-i would like a tattoo of the first line ("start tearing the old man down")

[bananxious]

For people who don’t understand why Purcell might have been so strongly against adding a third character to Sam and Max - ever seen the Simpsons episode, “Itchy and Scratchy and Poochie”? Anyways here’s my thoughts (tl;dr she is Good)

I think it’s a perfectly warranted fear, especially considering the quality of cartoon writing at the time, but not because of some desire for an all-male cast, which I’ve not really seen any evidence for although I understand the suspicion. Cartoons have changed a whole lot in the past 20-30 years, and being their target demographic at time of broadcast I can attest there was some real hot garbage being churned out! But I also think the writers did a great job in utilising her as she was kept mostly in the background but still had a push and pull on the story, and she was a great excuse for new settings, gadgets, interactions, and vehicles. Personally I always quite liked her “grumpy young teen from the 90s” vibe, and her occasional presence meant Sam’s character had more room for wackier jokes as he wasn’t jammed into a predictable “straight man” trope. I wonder if he’d have different things to say with 20 years of hindsight? 

I think some people misunderstand the push for a female character, because as far as I can see this wasn’t a diversity ploy but a marketing ploy. At the time the cartoon came out the market wasn’t as sharply polarised between “boys shows” and “girls shows”, or even “kids shows” and “teen shows” (that’s one reason why the original run of Animaniacs/Pinky and the Brain/Freakazoid got pulled but I’ll save that story), not because of the writers but because of marketing/advertiser demands. This was a network demand because they had to convince the advertisers that girls would be watching as well, and it was a pretty common idea that children wanted child (or at least human) characters in their shows. It doesn’t matter that there’s no evidence little girls need female characters in order to watch or show, or that kids demand kid characters, it’s that advertisers and network execs think they do. (Apparently it was even floated that Max could be turned into a female character, which was turned down and the Geek redrawn into a girl. Not seen many people discussing that!)

 I doubt we’ll ever get the full details of these decisions unless someone has managed to save a legal pad from a Fox Network meeting room circa 1997 somewhere in their attic, but it appears to me this was an executive’s attempt at trying to make the show more kid-friendly. It��s pretty funny when you think about it now, considering one of Sam’s first lines makes reference to Quasimodo at a flippin’ Sadie Hawkins dance. (Do Americans commonly know what they are? Am I just a silly foreigner, forced to google things? every time Sam speaks I gotta google something else about your grand nation. It’s not a bad thing.)

Anyway, a real shame because I’m sure if it got a second season the fan response might have changed their perspective. Not that it matters, Sam and Max was built on a solid foundation of character theft so: Finders Keepers! She’s ours now!  

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 09.10.20 lb

lol, lemme preface this by telling you what i know about the show from my out-of-context insta-viewing:

kabir sends his gf riddhima in to spy on vansh RAISINGHANIA (naam ka wazan check karein ji. kaafi hi bhaari-bharkam, just like the fake baritone the actor playing the character is being forced to put on.) vansh is some kinda shady, but idk WHAT SPECIFIC KIND of shady..... like is he just your garden-variety-evil-capitalist-ala-ambani-bezos, or is he into shit like drug smuggling and human/organ trafficking???? no one knows. maybe a little bit of both. but kabir’s a COP, and we all know that those fuckers are the shadiest shits around (#ACAB) so yeah, true to type, kabir shadyyyyyyyy. he’s actually the secret illegitimate son of vansh’s stepmom and together they wanna ruin vansh and take all his monies. so anyway, kabir sends in riddhima, who’s just a whole special brand of dumbass, but also extraordinarily determined in the way only tellywood heroines are. so she’s basically sticking her nose everywhere that doesn’t belong and being a pain in the ass of literally everyone in the show, including her own (coz she seems to get injured in novel and entertaining ways in every second episode.) kabir ultimately manipulates her into marrying vansh, while vansh has apparently married her KNOWING that she’s a spy and is probably playing the long game to see who her puppet-master is. long story short, heterosexuality is too potent a force and the Stupid Spy Girl and Gangsta Guy are currently slowly giving in to the Feelz™, despite missing that one-little-teensy-weensy-who-even-needs-it-in-a-real-relationship thing. y’know, that little thing called, idk, i think it’s called “TRUST” or some such strange unheard-of concept.

oh, in between all this there’s also some bizarre plot about some ex of vansh’s called ragini, who’s dead??? missing? idk. kabir is real interested in that and wants to jail vansh for it, but we’ve long forgotten about ragini by this point #RIPSis anyway, there’s some kinda statue of her’s in the attic or some shit, coz vansh is some kinda modern day gender-reversed medusa who turns women who cross him into statues??? idk man, idk. so riddhima is pretty much in constant danger of being statue-d.

also vansh has a requisite irritating famiy in tow, that he’s burdened with being in charge of (coz no rest for the unfortunate eldest son who lives in this godforksaken mansion, be that an oberoi or a raisinghania) feat: a dadi who is well-meaning, but as annoying as the one in IB was, constantly spouting platitudes about how vansh and Spy Girl trooooooly lurrrrrrrrrrve each other *kissy noises*; some chachi/chacha who are all “HEY WHY DOES HE GET TO BE THE BOSS, WE WANT CONTROL OF THE CRORE-ON KA BIJNESS TOO”, some very fake kanji-eyed siblings/cousins who are supreme bitches, and ofc one (1) normal sibling who is sweet but really does nothing around here. oh and there’s his right hand man/bff too, who seems to be not 100% (maybe just 83%?) incompetent like everyone else. that poor sod just got suckered into marrying Kanji Aankhon Waali Bitch Sister, who is pregnant with some total rando’s baby, and is just an all-round asshole to Riddhima/Right Hand Man, because “ugh, yeh do kaudi ke middle class naukar log, cheeeeee.”

ok now that the sasta, not-at-all-useful recap has been done, LET’S GET INTO THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

———————————————————————

the chachi is screaming her goddamn headdddd off coz her room is on fire. ofc it is. when has anything good ever happened in this manhoos house of horrors.

lmao the kanji eyed cousin has like 3% concern that his mom will be fried like a taaza jalebi. he's literally sauntering luxuriously towards his mom's room jaise park mein tehel raha ho.

chachi's screaming is getting on my nerves. aunty you're wasting valuable oxygen this way.  

riddhima is behind some secret box that aryan and chachi stashed in the room.

THESE PPL ARE SO CHILL ABOUT A WHOLE ROOM ON FIRE (note: it’s shivaay's room in IB) and they're just hanging out in the living room (which if you’ll remember, IS ATTACHED TO THE ROOM THAT WAS SHIVAAY’S) as if fire doesnt have a tendency to y'know..........  SPREAD RAPIDLY.

riddhima is fighting with the bloody fireman saying ki i need to save the box. #priorities

aaaaaaand the fireman is kabir, who has come to haath maarofy on Box of Secrets.

and we know this coz he did a DRAMAAAAAAAAATIC reveal by taking off his mask. in a room FULLY ON FIRE. idhar non-flaming rooms mein bhi ab mask nikaalna danger ho gaya hai, and this guy justtttttttttt dgaf. tum jaison ki wajaah se hi we can't bloody stop the spread.

my god this house has been decorated soooooooo fucking tackily. never thought the oberois would be the classy ones.

shady saasumaa and riddhima stinkeye-ing each other over a bowl of shehed. lol, what even. truly some "rasode mein kaun tha" lvl of politics.

oh ho, saasumaa and kabir lagaaofied the aag.

saasumaa gloating over the fact that riddhima will now never get her hands on Box of Secrets.

flashback time: hahahahaha KABIR LITERALLY LOBBED A MOLOTOV COCKTAIL INTO THE ROOM AND CHACHI DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING HEAR IT OR ANYTHING. lmao everyone in this show is a dumbass. how blissful life must be with just one (1) working brain cell.

riddhima runs into flaming room. ofc now we will have a prolonged sequence where kabir tries to keep his identity and riddhima being the dheent that she is, will give chase.

please note, that not even 48 hours ago, this woman walked barefoot on a bed of coals AND a hallway full of broken glass. AND NOW SHE'S RUNNING FULL SPEED BEHIND KABIR AS IF SHE’S PT USHA. SIS, TUMHARE PAIR HAIN KI KYA HAIN? YOU'RE LONG OVERDUE FOR AN INTENSE PEDICURE AFTER THIS WEEK.

and ofc, he got into a getaway car and made it away.

yeh lo, iss beech mein dadi behosh. ouff.

whooooooooops, dadi has some weird blue nishaan on her neck.

LMAO KABIR SHOT AT RIDDHIMA WITH A POISON BULLET OR SYRINGE OR SOME SHIT, WHICH HIT DADI INSTEAD. LMAO MAN THIS SHOW. IT'S SO FUCKING DUMB, I LOVE IT.

some more stinkeye politics between saas bahu.

bahu is passive-aggressively giving saasumaa roses to congratulate her on winning this round.

riddhima is dheent!max. she's like kuch bhi ho, i'll find the secret anyway and your victory will witherrrrrrr awayyyyyyyy like these flowerssssss and you will be left with the thorns that will prick youuuuuuuu!!!!!!!

LMAO SAAS IS FULLY ROLLING HER EYES AT RIDDHIMA'S DRAMATIC ASS #SAME

just looking at helly's ears is making my ears hurt like a bitch. 

hey riddhima, have you ever thought that maybe this secret child of hers is NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS?????? like honestly, the entitlement desis have to know the workings of other ppl’s wombs.

lol dumbass mummyji crumpled the flowers in her hand and played right into riddhima's stupid kaante waala metaphor. #ramMilayiJodi

hero ko covid hai toh ainvayi ke phone calls se kaam chalaana pad raha hai.

the dude left his house for literally the first time in months and the place is on fire and dadi got shot in the neck with poison. and the wife doesn't think she should tell him so that he doesn't become "pareshaan". sure, this seems like a dude who'll take this kinda thing real light when he finds out later.

(hint: he’s not. he’s a crazed, overprotective weirdo about his family. sound familiar?????)

this guy's dialogue delivery is so dodgy. idk what it is, it just seems so affected.

that plus the ainvayi ka editing just showing him in some random car (clearly from the earlier eps)  is just adding to the jankiness of the scene.

husband dude seems to know wifey's quirks quite well. kinda cute, kinda creepy. 

lol kal tak toh yeh banda itna romantic nahi tha. like he had a smooth moment here and there, but he was mostly real awkward and robotic and unsure how to handle These Strange New Feelings™. now he’s spouting cheesyass lines about being able to see the one who is special to you with dil ki aankhein and idk what.

who are these people who like SHARING their room with another person? #unrealistic

but i also i get you, riddhima. he was pretty much the only thing worth looking at in this room, coz the rest of it is so damn fugggggg. this room should be the one set on fire.

dang, some steamy scenes between them in the flashbacks. ouff abhi jaake episodes dhundne padenge. coz #tharkiTTisTharki

riddhima doing dadi seva. boooooooooring.

ofc dadi ki sui is always atkofied on playing cupid for pota, taaki she can score some par-pota/potis.

riddhima ki best friend ka happy birthday hai.

riddhima is like a lottttt has happened in my life, can't really tell you over a call. yup, that’s for sure. 

ok apparently sejal who said she’s in dubai now is NOT in dubai?? she's just up and flew to mumbai to "surprise" riddhima...... on HER OWN birthday? #doesNotCompute

lmao kabir's annoyance with mummy's useless glass of water. WHY DO MOMS THINK EVERYTHING CAN BE SOLVED WITH DRINKING MORE WATER?!?!?!!

now he's yelling at mom about how she's ruined everything. sure. blame the only one who's actually doing shit around here, while you sit on your ass in this room, glaring and growling like a hangry bear.

some menacing dialogue about how he needs to thikaane lagaaofy riddhima's hosh.

which has been overheard by bff sejal, who went and dropped a showpiece from shock. cool. so she gonna die. bye sejal, hardly got to know ya!

sejal being here doesn’t even make sense. she thought he was a PT teacher. then why did she show up here at his police waala office? also how did she connect the dots about the whole damn story with like 0.04% context that she got from what she overheard? kuchhhhhhh bhi.

[halequeenjas]

Donating to the Family || Jared & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @themidnightfarmer & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Jared volunteers to remove the chickcharneys from Jasmine’s attic. Things don’t go as smoothly as Jasmine would have liked.

Despite his recent reservations about his skills in actually caring for the creatures in his protection, Jared had decided that ANYONE was better than pest or animal control. He arrived with what he hoped translated into a polite smile, and a cardboard box. The nymph knocked and waited patiently, his hands clasped behind his back swaying to music playing in his head that had been on the radio on the drive over. He mumbled to himself a little as he waited as well, a mixture of the lyrics of the song and a few random thoughts. When the door opened he was on the tail end of a comment to himself mixed with a song lyric and he couldn’t stop himself finishing off before greeting Jasmine. “I should advertise as animal control ah ah ah ah stayin aliiive. Hello!”

Whether the guy who offered to come get the freaky birds out of her basement was a hunter or some sort of other supernatural enthusiast hardly mattered to Jasmine. She wanted these little shits out of her house without anyone getting seriously injured. It was hardly a lot to ask for, but then again, this was White Crest. A handful of years ago, she’d give anything to leave, now she couldn’t imagine it. Discovering what she was made her realize she was needed here even if her heart pleaded for the always eyeball free, California sun. When she opened the door to a random man on the internet, she carefully studied him. He didn’t appear overly tough by any measure. Hell, he was even a bit awkward. “I mean, good song, but weird greeting. You haven’t been drinking have you?” 

The dark circles under his eyes were hard to cover over as Jared was unused to doing such with his usual glamour. This meant that his exhaustion was clear on his face. He wilted a little and chuckled at her words in the hopes that it would smooth over the weird moment. He just wasn’t able to get his brain to cooperate properly lately. “No not drinking, sorry just...songs get caught in my head I guess.” He fibbed lightly before peaking past her, stooping at the same time to lift the cardboard box into his arms. He very much hoped to come across as far more normal than he had initially. “So you have birds in your attic? Any holes in the eves I can patch up for you or do you tend to have windows open around the house? This season is a risky time to have windows open I’m afraid. Fledgling season and all.”

This guy did not look so hot right about now. Jasmine could tell he was exhausted so she wasn’t entirely sure why he volunteered to come grab the birds. He must have really liked those things which was weird in itself. “Right,” she said slowly and realized she vaguely recognized him from Bea’s birthday party which meant he couldn’t be that bad… even if he was a little odd. He had to be one of Luce’s friends. “I’m going to pretend that makes sense for the sake of getting these birds out of my home.” She stood off to the side and allowed him into her home. Hopefully, she wouldn’t come to regret that decision as she eyes his choice of supplies. “I didn’t exactly climb up, so I’m not sure about holes, but I did have the window open the other day. Noted on it being their season.” She led him over to the attic entrance. “So this is how you get up there. Do you need a ladder or anything?” 

He entered her home, careful to take in his surroundings and make sure his cardboard box didn’t knock anything over. Jared followed her to the hatch into the attic and shook his head. “Don’t need a full ladder, do you have a stool or something?” He was tall enough he’d be able to grab onto the edges and pull himself up, he just didn’t trust not looking unnaturally strong if he was to push the hatch out of the way with just his finger tips. His strength was far more than he looked, but that wasn’t natural for a human so it was best to compensate a little. “Will you be able to pass the box up to me? Or are you planning to come up as well?” He didn’t know if he hoped she’d come so he’d stay aware of himself, or if she shouldn’t just in case she saw something suspicious. The nymph had been struggling with his glamour in his exhaustion as it was. 

While she had a ladder, she had never personally used it and wasn’t too keen on dragging it out. Jasmine was relieved when Jared asked for a step stool and quickly went to go fetch it out of her kitchen. She came back and set it up just below the attic. “Okay, there you go,” she stated and looked up at the attic. She could hear the stupid bird things up there and was eager to have them out of her house. “Yeah, I can pass it up to you. I have no intention of getting anywhere near them,” she answered as her nose scrunched up in disgust. Outside of Diamond, who was currently stowed away in her bedroom, she wasn’t too big on animals. It dawned on her those things were pooping up there and she let out a sigh. She’d have to have the cleaning lady hit the attic this weekend which was definitely going to cost extra. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be right here.” 

The nymph pulled a head torch out from his back pocket and pulled the band over his head before stepping up and reaching to move the hatch. Jared pulled himself up into the attic easily, only grunting with effort for Jasmine's benefit. Once up he held his hands out for the box, feeling the gaze of the birds on his back as he did so. Once he had it in his reach he was instantly hit with a wave of dread. The attic wasn’t as clear as it could be, and there seemed to be a lot to both trip on or hit your head. It made for difficult herding he was sure. He paused just looking into the dim air. Trying to count the creatures he could see. The fledgelings had already hopped out of their nest which was bad news for catching them and trying to persuade their father to follow. He crawled away from the hatch as he made his decision. Jasmine was sure to hate it. But he could maybe play it off. He was out of sight up here so he switched his head torch off for a second. He slammed his hand against a beam and yelped before rushing the birds so that they’d beeline for the only source of light. And there they went falling out of the hatch.

Jasmine had an uneasy feeling as she watched Jared pull himself up into her attic. All she wanted was to get rid of these birds and have her home remain in the immaculate condition she always kept it in. Already, it seemed like he was making quite the ruckus up there as she heard a large bang. She didn’t like this one bit and she sat there with her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for Jared to emerge with the weird birds in his cardboard box. “Come on,” she whispered quietly to herself and almost immediately regretted when she saw the birds falling through the hatch and onto the very expensive rug she had lining her hallway. She let out a shriek and quickly shuffled away from the now very angry looking birds. “What the hell,” she practically screeched as Jared fell through with them, “Get these things out of here!” 

The nymph wasted no time answering her yells, he hit the floor in the hall and managed to catch the most dazed bird in his hand and pop it into the box he’d dragged down after him. Jared folded over the top and motioned to Jasmine to make sure it didn’t push it’s way out before he tore after the other two. Fledgelings weren’t all that fast on their feet yet, and they had little space in the hallway to spread untested wings either. SO with a quick motion the second bird was in his grasp. The father would be the hardest, it was unfortunate that the critter appeared to have shoved it’s way into another room. “Moving back to Jasmine he plastered on an embarrassed and rueful smile hoping to win some points back with the no doubt fuming woman. “Got bitten.” he lied. “Tripped on their nest and they took off. Sorry about that. But two down, and only the one to go.” He let his voice lilt to gain favour. “The door at the end of the hall.”

Jasmine was decidedly not amused with how this bird collection was going. One was at least stowed away in the box as he fell, but another was darting down her hallway. It hardly seemed professional he’d gotten bitten, but then again, he was a farmer not pest control. Still, she wasn’t thrilled. “Bitten, right,” she said with an air of annoyance in her voice, “Just get them out of here, please!” The last one was heading down her hall toward her office and dread filled her. Why hadn’t she closed her doors before this process? Had she been disillusioned to think this Jared could successfully just scoop the mean birds out of her basement. She let out an exasperated sigh and bolted for the doors. She did her best to close them all off, but the little bugger beat her to her office. “Shit,” she screamed out, “Get off of that rug! Get that thing out of my office!” 

Jared was thankful he hadn’t ACTUALLY been bitten, but it was a small victory, hopefully the chickcharnies wouldn’t open wide enough that Jasmine was able to see the full set of human like teeth in their mouths. But then again in this town with so many deniers, it wasn’t guaranteed that she would recognise it as odd enough to remember anyway. She took off as he managed to trap the second into the box securely and turn back around. The little ball of feathers rocketed into her office and her scream of annoyance made the nymph wince. High pitched like that wouldn’t be very calming for the birds. He shushed her gently, trying not to be rude but also hurrying to peak into her office with his finger on his lips. “Too much noise and you’ll spook him into a cu- something manic.” He was definitely losing his edge, he’d almost admitted to the cursing ability of the birds. He pushed past the awkward stumble in his wording and pushed the door slowly open all the way. “Does the window open? We could herd him out? He’ll hear the cries of the little ones once I’m outside, might be better than catching him.”

At this point, Jasmine was fuming. His mistake led to the stupid magic birds falling out of her attic and he was shushing her? In her home? Seriously? The glare on her face showcased her dissatisfaction with his bird collecting abilities. “Fine,” she huffed with arms crossed over her chest in annoyance. The way he cut himself off did at least indicate he knew these birds were of the supernatural variety. If there wasn’t one likely about to drop a deuce in her office, she’d be a lot more inclined to ask how he knew about this kind of stuff anyway, but right now, her precious metal chair and imported wooden desk were far higher on her priority list. When he suggested she opened the window, she looked at him dumbfounded. “Are you seriously suggesting that I go in there with crazy bird,” she asked with the shock evident in her voice. “Ugh,” she grumbled, “I’ll open the damn window. He better not ruin this jacket, it’s Gucci!” As he went outside, she made her way into the office and did her best to take quiet steps. The last thing she wanted was to attract its attention. She snuck by and carefully opened the window before darting out of her office and to the front door to see if this Jared guy’s plan worked. 

If she’d been looking for a professional, Jared most certainly was not. But he wouldn’t apologise. He didn’t really have much consideration for her things, his main goal was extracting the poor critters without the threat that animal control would pose to them after all. He would however look as apologetic as he could. He didn’t directly want to upset her, she just definitely wasn’t his biggest concern. The nymph and Jasmine were on completely different wavelengths and it showed almost down to the dust on their clothes. Jared was a farmer, he owned exactly nothing designer, and if he had he’d have sold it already. Jasmine was on a completely different path and it was curious to him, but he didn’t spare her more than a passing curious thought. She agreed to open the window and he thundered outside, whispering a soft word to the fledgelings in the box before he shuffled them uncomfortably. They both started to cry, and sure enough within the office their father grew agitated and made his flightpath out of the window and circled above the nymph. He smiled and raised a hand to Jasmine standing in the doorway. “He’ll follow me and the kids home from above I’d say. The nest will be abandoned, but I’d have someone take it away, maybe dust up there or something.” Jared only belatedly realizing it was a small slight on the state of her attic and his face reflected this as he cringed and moved to his truck parked illegally in the street. 

This was a disaster. If this didn’t work, Jasmine swore she was going to slap this kid. She didn’t care if he was Lucinda’s weird friend or not, her house was a mess now. She’d have to call Kristy over for an emergency cleaning. Her arms were still crossed haughtily over her chest as she stood on her front porch watching Jared with the birds. The last bird was now fluttering outside the window to get its babies back and Jasmine wanted no part of that. “Right, right. Just please get them out of here, I’ll message you again for your Venmo. I’m not getting anywhere near you or the birds while this guy is pissed, thanks.” Thankfully, he was already going toward his truck with the birds in tow. As annoyed as she was, she was grateful to have her house to herself following this ordeal. No more weird birds that probably had some weird powers. Those were Jared’s problems now. “Hope they do well on the farm or whatever,” she said with a wave and hoped he’d be on his way with the little demons.

[gyakutengagotoku]

GS4 vs AJ:AA - Episode 2, Part 5

Here’s the last court segment of this episode! It’s also relatively shorter than the usual posts, but there’s a lot of dialogue I captured for context, so it doesn’t look shorter. There’s not too much deviation between the source and localized after we covered all the changes made to the Kitaki’s previously.

For once I started earlier today and got through it pretty quickly, but for the sake of a consistent posting schedule, I’ll stick with around midnight PST every other day or so. Seems like the best rhythm for me that I can keep up with.

--

> Court Lobby

６月１７日　午前　９時５２分 地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 9:52 AM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> いよいよ、ですね！ ゆうべはよく眠れましたか？ This is it, the big day! Did you get any sleep?

<Apollo> あ。うん。ゆうべ、 １時にはフトンに入ったから。 Yeah, I went to bed at 1:00 AM or so.

<Trucy> で？　今日は何時に 起きたんですか？ Oh? What time did you wake up?

<Apollo> 午前３時、かな。 ...3:00 AM.

<Trucy> ‥‥ゼンゼン眠れてませんね。 That's only two hours, Apollo...

でも、大丈夫。 みぬきがついてるし。 But, at least you have me!

<Trucy> ボウシくんだって、 いつも見てますよ。 ...And the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> いつも見てますよ、キミ。 Here's looking at you, kid.

Originally: "Yes, I'm always keeping an eye on you." (It's supposed to sound supportive, I swear.)

>

<Trucy> ね。パパ！　今日は、どんな証人を 用意してるの？　ガリュー検事！ Daddy! Do you know who Prosecutor Gavin's witness is today?

<Phoenix> さあね。当ててごらん。 Take a guess!

<Trucy> んーとね。 小梅さんとか！ Hmm... How about Little Plum?

<Phoenix> あっはっはっ。キモっ玉かあさんか。 ハズレだよ。 Ah ha ha! That Sherman tank of a mom? Nope, guess again.

<Trucy> うーん、ザンネン。 でも。みぬき、思うな。 That's too bad. You know, speaking of moms...

パパも、早く新しいママ、 見つけないと！ You need to find me a new mommy one of these days, Daddy!

<Phoenix> お。コイツは朝からイッポン 取られちまったな。 It's barely morning and you're at it already, Trucy!

あっはっはっはっは。 Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

<Apollo> （だから、ウソっぽいんだよなあ、 　この親子） (OK, see, this is why I don't buy their "father-daughter" relationship.)

I commented previously that Apollo questioned their father-daughter relationship and legitimately forgot that he also says this, and this time it does match what he originally said. So, my bad.

Also, Naruhodou describes her as "キモっ玉" (kimottama), meaning she got "guts" or "pluck" to her. I appreciate the "Sherman tank", though.

> Courtroom

<Judge> 少なくとも、 ハッキリわかったことは‥‥ We did find out one thing for certain.

事件が起こったとき。 やはり公園には、被告人と被害者、 There were three people in the park at the time of the murder:

‥‥そして目撃者の３人しか いなかった、というコトです。 The witness, the victim, and the defendant.

<Klavier> ‥‥そういうコト。 そこで、今日は‥‥ ...Correct, Herr Judge. And today, I'd like to do something a little new age.

あのザンネンな事件を、 外側から見てみようと思ってるんだ。 I'd like to look at this horrible crime... from the outside.

<Apollo> “ソトガワ”‥‥ですか？ The "outside"...?

<Klavier> “凶器の入手経路”‥‥ “犯行準備”‥‥ The acquisition of the murder weapon... The preparation for the act...

被告人クン。ウカツにも ゼンブ、しゃべっていたんだよ。 Our poor defendant told all, you see.

‥‥フィアンセにね。 ...To his betrothed.

<Judge> ふぃあんせ‥‥？ His... bee trove?

<Klavier> ‥‥婚約者さ。 人生の共犯者ってヤツかな。 ...His fiancée, Herr Judge. His partner for life... with no chance for parole.

<Judge> それでは、その‥‥ いいなずけを入廷させてください！ Very well, you may show the erm... "lucky" lady to the stand.

Once again, the judge struggles with words outside of his language, and Kyouya, being the resident English expert, has to explain. That being said, "bee trove" is suspiciously apt as a metaphor to describe her...

>

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ、キミ。 名前と、職業を。 ...Your name and occupation, Fräulein.

<Alita> 並奈　美波と申します。 今は、花嫁修行中というか‥‥ Alita Tiala. My occupation... is future wife.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ いいココロがけです。 Ah, traditional values! I respect that.

最近は、温泉タマゴすら作れない ムスメさんも多いですからな。 Too many brides these days can't even weave baskets blindfolded... underwater.

しかし‥‥今日は、検察側の 証人として出廷したわけですな？ Yet you're here today as a witness for the prosecution?

<Alita> わたし‥‥最初は、 証言したくありませんでした。 To be honest, I didn't want to testify at first.

でも、やっぱり。 かくしておくことはできなくて。 But... I couldn't hide the truth.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥やはり、 リッパなココロがけです。 Hmm. Honesty! Another admirable trait.

Originally, his "underwater blindfolded basket weaving" standards were about soft-boiling eggs so that the yolk hardens while the white remains soft. They're called "onsen tamago" because these eggs were traditionally cooked in a hot spring, but can be cooked in any ol' pot between 70-80°C (158-176°F). It's one of those old-timey signs that a soon-to-be-wed would be a good wife because she could cook. Now, the only time I'd ever see these eggs is when I don't boil them hotly enough.

On that note, nowadays there are underwater basket weaving Olympics. Thanks, Rio 2016. Maybe Tokyo 2020 (2021?) could include a special event category for egg-boiling.

> 1st Witness Testimony, press 3rd statement

<Alita> ちゃんと管理されてるから、 フツウの組員じゃムリだと思います。 Not really, I think. There's a system in place to limit access.

でもね。滝太クンはトクベツ。 なんたって。アトトリ息子ですから。 But Wocky's a special case, being the next-in-line.

<Klavier> 少し、甘やかされていたところは あったんじゃないかな。 Perhaps his treatment was a bit too special, ja?

<Alita> たしかに、“おぼっちゃん”な トコロはあったかもしれません。 Well, maybe he is a bit spoiled...

誕生日に、スゴいプレゼントを もらったって話もきいてるし。 I hear he got amazing presents for his birthdays.

ガムでできた“ドス”とか、 チョコレートの“花札”とか。 Last year was a switchblade made out of chewing gum and a chocolate gravestone!

<Apollo> （アブナイものが好きなのか、 　アマいものが好きなのか‥‥） (Sounds like he has a taste for sweets... and danger.)

Originally, they were a rubber dosu and a chocolate hanafuda card. Danger AND gambling, but the kid-friendly kind!

Though, I can accept "chewing-gum switchblade" here because "ガム" (gamu) can also mean that kind of gum or the gum material of rubber.

> Press 5th statement, present Alita, present chart or sandals

<Judge> ちょっと待ちなさい！ Ms. Tiala!

あなたは“被害者とはなんの 関係もない”と証言しています！ You testified that you had no connection to the victim!

<Alita> なんの関係もないわよ。 ‥‥今となっては、もう。 And I don't. Now.

<Apollo> 今となっては‥‥？ "Now"...?

<Alita> だって。半年前に、やめたんだから。 もう、無関係でしょ。 I quit half a year ago, didn't I? So there's no connection.

‥‥アナタたち、もしかして。 Let me guess, you're the kind of guy...

コイビトのムカシのコト、ぜんぶ 聞かないと気がすまないタイプの、 ...who can't rest until he knows every last detail of his girlfriend's past.

ちっぽけなオトコ、なのかしら？ Am I right?

<Judge> そんなコトはないですぞ！ 私は、その。 Th-That's not true at all! Why, I...

愛しいヒトの、ちょっとした過去も まとめて抱きしめるタイプの、イキ I embrace the ones I love, past flaws and all, no matte--

<Objection!>

<Apollo> “今はもう”無関係‥‥ それは、通らないんですよ。 "There's no connection now" doesn't fly in a court of law.

<Alita> ‥‥どういうこと、かしら？ Doesn't... fly?

<Apollo> （さすが、キモっ玉が座っている） (She's one tough nut.)

（キタキツネ一家にヨメ入りしよう 　とするだけのコトはあるな） (She probably feels right at home with the Kitakis!)

Fyi, the judge responded here because she called them all out, not just the defense.

And yep, here it is again: "キモっ玉". So, a Sherman-tank mom and a tough-nut fiancée; no wonder she fits right in. (I still think "bee trove" is more apt, though.)

> Present more evidence to tie her in but present wrongly

<Judge> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ そうですね。私としては ... Well, I suppose I could see--

<Objection!>

<Klavier> おデコくん。キミのたぐっている 糸は、真実につながってない‥‥ Herr Forehead. This trail you think you have found, it doesn't lead to the truth.

ついでに、キミの弁護士生命も 断ち切ってあげようか？ Nor to a long career in the legal profession, ja?

<Apollo> け、けっこうです。 Gee, thanks.

<Klavier> じゃあ、かわりに。 いつものヤツ、やらせてくれるかな。 Perhaps you will allow me to do the honors?

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ まあ。たまには、よいでしょう。 Hmm... Why not? It might be nice for a change.

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ。遠慮なく。 Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　Ｒｏｃｋ！ Most excellent... Let's rock!

<Apollo> （なんだか‥‥ 　いつもの何倍もクヤシイ） (I'll take the usual penalty next time, thanks.)

<Judge> それでは、弁護人！　もう一度 提示していただきましょう。 Very well, Mr. Justice. Try again.

Look, guys, the JP script does have English letters and it has them for a good reason. Kudos to the loc team for that most excellent reference too.

> 2nd Witness Testimony, present medical chart at 4th statement, Perceive at new (6th) statement, present wrong evidence about the "threat"

<Alita> ‥‥その証拠品が、どうかした？ ...Because of what?

<Apollo> え‥‥ Um...

<Alita> アナタ。目はいいかもしれないケド。 アタマはクモの巣が張ってるみたい。 The eyes of a hawk... and the brain of a toad.

<Apollo> （‥‥ここで引っこむ 　ワケにはいかない！） (Ribbit! I mean, ack! I can't lose this now!)

（アタマのクモの巣を払え！ 　もう一度だッ！） (C'mon toad brain, one more try!)

Originally, the metaphor was "brain full of cobwebs". So Odoroki tries dusting his attic.

> Press newer (7th) statement

<Apollo> その証言の“ウソ”は、さっき 見抜いたじゃないですか！ We already know you're lying about having no reason!

<Alita> わかってるわよ！ エラそうに言わないで！ I know you know! Don't look at me like that!

<Apollo> え‥‥‥ Huh...?

<Alita> ヒトをトンでもない目つきで ニラんでくれちゃってさ。 Like I'm some two-bit washed up good-for-nothing...

コワかったじゃないの！ You scared me!

<Klavier> ‥‥たしかにね。 ...I concur.

ぼくですら、そこまでアツい目で 見つめられたことはないよ。 Even I am rarely treated to such a... hot gaze.

<Apollo> す。すみません‥‥ S-Sorry...

（‥‥そうとうスゴいカオを 　さらしているらしいな、オレ） (Maybe I need to do some face training, too...)

"Hot gaze"... Yeah, sounds about right.

Last line was simply: "(...I guess I made quite the face at her.)"

> Present bullet in safe

<Judge> まさか！　それでは、その財産を 狙って、その。婚約をしたと‥‥ Nefarious! So she planned to marry him just to get her hands on this fortune?

<Objection!>

<Wocky> イイカゲンなコトを 言い散らかしやがってェ‥‥ You keep talking trash about my Alita...

訴えてやるぞッ！ このクサレ弁護士がァッ！ ...and I'll sue you, lawyer-man!

<Apollo> ‥‥えッ！　お、オレですか！ ...Huh? Me!?

<Wocky> アンタ、今、言ったな‥‥ Yeah! You said...

オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ You said you'd... You'd...

コクハクするとッ！ You'd abuse my Alita!

<Apollo> いやいやいや！ “コクハツ”ですよッ！ Um, I think you mean "accuse"...!

<Wocky> おんなじコトだッ！ みなみちゃんはわたさんぞッ！ Same difference! Well you can't have her! She's mine!

It was "kokuhaku" (confess, usu. love to someone) vs "kokuhatsu" (accuse).

>

<Alita> ‥‥滝太クンさあ。 ...Wocky.

イイカゲン、 現実と向かい合いなさいって。 Wake up and smell reality!

<Wocky> み‥‥ミナミちゃん‥‥？ A... Alita-baby?

<Alita> カルテのサイン‥‥ 退院を待って、婚約‥‥ The signature on the chart, the engagement...

わかるでしょ？　フツー。 I mean, come on! It's so obvious.

いくら、頭のカラッポな お坊ちゃんでも。 Even for a brainless, spoiled brat such as yourself.

<Wocky> みなみちゃん‥‥ Alita...

<Klavier> どうやら‥‥ホンネが 聞けそうだね。おじょうさん。 Your honesty is like a breath of foul air, Fräulein.

<Alita> まあ‥‥このぶんじゃ、ね。 無傷じゃア、済みそうもないし。 Hey, I wasn't getting out of this clean, anyway.

I think I'd prefer if Klavier here used a sound-based metaphor given how his entire character design is based on music. In the JP, he also used a sound metaphor: "It seems... we now hear your true voice, young lady."

Granted, "honne" also just means "true nature", but I like the hidden pun there.

> 3rd Witness Testimony, press 5th statement, point out "another place", point anywhere within the area of attention (double penalty)

<Apollo> 犯人が被害者を撃ったのは、 このポイントです！ This is where the killer shot from!

<Judge> そこから、被害者の右のコメカミが 撃てないのは、立証済みです。 But then the killer couldn't have shot his right temple.

<Klavier> ボケるには早すぎるよ。 おジイさんじゃないんだから。 So young, and already senile. How unfortunate...

<Judge> 私はボケておりませんぞ！ I'll have you know I'm not senile!

事件が起こった日の朝、何を 食べたか、ハッキリと‥‥ Why I remember exactly what I ate the morning of the crime!

‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ..............................

<Judge> とにかくッ！　 ペナルティを与えます！ Ahem! Penalty!

<Apollo> （‥‥ズルいや） (...No fair.)

<Klavier> それじゃあ。 もう一度指摘してもらおうかな。 You seem intent on digging your own grave. Here, have a shovel and try again.

Odoroki suddenly dropping in Kansai accent out of the blue caught me off-guard. (It's his last line here.) Man was so devastated by that double penalty he got sent out west.

10/21/20 edit: Whoops, my bad. That wasn’t Kansai accent and wouldn’t have made sense if it was. He’s just sighing to himself, really, and I mistook that last ‘ya’ as a copula.

> Point to noodle stand, present slippers & bowls

<Judge> わかっていると思いますが。 現在、この法廷で‥‥ I would like to remind the witness of her current status.

あなたを完全な“潔白”と 考えている人間は、おりません。 This court does not consider you entirely innocent.

<Alita> ‥‥完全にまっ白な人間は おとぎ話の中に住んでるものよ。 Show me an innocent... I'll show you a fairy tale.

<Judge> ‥‥とにかく。 ...In any case.

いつのまにか、弁護側は 提示してしまったようです。 The defense has, somehow, made its point.

この証人に、宇狩院長を殺害する 動機とチャンスがあったことを。 The witness had both a motive and an opportunity to kill Dr. Meraktis.

<Alita> そんな不条理な“逆転”‥‥ おとぎ話でもお目にかかれないわね。 More fairy tales! This whole trial is a fairy tale!

<Judge> 最後に、一度だけ。 あなたに説明のチャンスを与えます。 Then please, pull us back down to reality, Ms. Tiala.

証言をおねがいしましょう。 I'm giving you one last chance to explain yourself.

Her last line here: "An absurd 'turnabout' like that... wouldn't even be seen in fairy tales!"

> 4th Witness Testimony, Perceive at 5th statement, point wrongly

<Apollo> 美波さん。‥‥そこだッ！ ...Gotcha, Ms. Tiala!!!

<Alita> 聞こえてるわよ。 大きな声で２回も言わなくても。 I heard you just fine the first time.

なに？　ゴキブリでも出たの？ What, I wasn't aware we were playing paintball.

<Apollo> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ......

<Trucy> きわめて冷静ですね。 ‥‥みなみさん。 She's one cool cucumber, that Alita.

<Apollo> （‥‥どうやら、 　ややハズしたみたいだな） (...Hmm. Maybe I spotted the wrong spot.)

Originally, she suggested "Cockroach", which iirc is a playground game with a mix of "Hide'n'Seek" and "Tag". For some reason, I'm struggling to find a source online for this, but I swear I remember looking it up before...

10/21/20 edit: Welp, I guess I was overthinking it. She just asks him if he spotted something icky like a cockroach.

> Point correctly, present lamp

<Judge> それでは！　この証人に対する 尋問を終了いたします！ Very well! This finishes the cross-examination of this...

<Objection!>

<Klavier> クッ‥‥クックックッ‥‥ Heh. Heh heh heh.

何を言ってるのかな‥‥ アツいギグは、これからなのに。 Not so fast. This party's just getting started!

Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　ｒｏｃｋ， ｇｕｙｓ！ Now, we rock!

<Apollo> ど。どういうコトですかッ！ W-What!?

<Klavier> やはり‥‥ 弁護士というのは、ツメがアマい。 Those spikes on your head are softer than they look...

なぜ、最後までジジツを 追求しようとしないんだい？ Or do you not have the stomach to go all the way?

...Come on, loc team, you had one job and you were doing so well with it up to here. At least dress up that "Now, we rock!" a bit with some German or Eurorock flair.

> Present bowls in clinic again or noodle stand, point out the river

<Apollo> そ。そうか‥‥！ Th-That's right...!

事件の起こった、あの晩。 成歩堂さんをハネ飛ばしたのは‥‥ That night, the car that hit Mr. Wright...

宇狩　輝夫のクルマ、だった‥‥ ...was that green sports car!

<Judge> な‥‥なんですと！ Oh, yes! I-I'd nearly forgotten about it!

<Klavier> その後、ガレージに戻ったのだから、 クルマには、故障はなかったんだ。 Afterward, he drove it back to that garage. It ran fine.

<Alita> ‥‥そのとおり。 それなのに‥‥ ...That's right.

その、自慢のクルマを 使わないハズがないでしょ？ So why didn't he use his beloved sports car, hmm?

<Apollo> ぐ‥‥ッ！ Urk...!

<Klavier> このムジュンが、キレイに 説明できないかぎり‥‥ A glaring contradiction, to be sure.

きみのスイリは成立しないのさ。 ‥‥おデコくん！ More glaring than your forehead.

<Apollo> そ‥‥‥そんなあああああああッ！ No... Nooooooooooo!

The first time I played this part, I found it a lot funnier than I should have because I thought Apollo was screaming about how his forehead was so "glaring".

That's it. I just wanted to share. The JP lines are just the usual "With that contradiction gone, your conjecture won't stand... Odeko-kun!"

> Select "He couldn't use the car", present Magic Panties

<Apollo> そして、オレはきのう。そのときは 気がつかなかったケド‥‥ By the way, I learned something yesterday...

ものすごく重要な“情報”を 聞いていたんです。 ...A very important piece of information.

‥‥そう！ 牙琉検事。あなたからね！ ...And I learned it from you, Prosecutor Gavin!

<Trucy> あの！　捜査ですか？ Um, so you were here investigating?

<Klavier> まあね。帰ろうと思ったんだが‥‥ バイクがイカれちゃってね。 And I was on my way home... when my hog gave up the ghost.

<Apollo> バイクが‥‥？ Your hog...?

<Klavier> エンジンがかからないんだ。 排気パイプがつまっちゃって。 My motorcycle won't start. A clogged exhaust pipe...

<Trucy> へえ！ 高そうなオートバイなのに、 Too bad! It looks like such a nice bike, too.

そんなコトで こわれちゃうんですか？ Hard to believe that it could break just from that!

<Klavier> クルマもバイクもいっしょさ。 どんな���由であれ‥‥ Cars, motorbikes, they're all the same.

排気パイプをふさがれると、 エンジンがかからなくなる。 Clog the exhaust, and they won't run.

<Alita> エンジンが‥‥かからない‥‥ My, how interesting.

"My, how interesting", indeed. It sounds so out of place that I wonder if this was supposed to be a temporary line that they decided to keep in the final draft. For reference, it was just "The engine... was clogged...!?"

> Court Lobby

同日　午後　４時１２分 地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 4:12 PM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> やりましたね！　オドロキさん！ おめでとうございます！ Great job, Apollo! You did it!

<Apollo> ああ、やったな！ ‥‥なんとか、ね。 Yeah, we did, somehow...

<Trucy> 滝太さんも、無罪になって‥‥ Wocky's off the hook...

キレイな身体で極道の世界へ 羽ばたいていくんですねー。 ...free to become the gangster he's always wanted to be!

きっと、オドロキさんに カンシャして‥‥ And he has you to thank...

<???> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ Hey! Attorney-man!

<Wocky> よくも！　よくもオレの！ よくもオレのミナミちゃんをッ！ You're gonna pay for what you did to my Alita, homes!

<Trucy> ‥‥まったく、カンシャ されてないみたいですね。 ...Or to blame, I guess.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ You give my Alita back!

返してくれよ！ オレのミナミちゃんをよおおおお！ Stupid pointy-head attorney with a death-wish!

Ahaha, the full list of punk swears. I wonder if the loc team had the choice to use even more colorful words here, what would they have come up with? I mean, sure, Wocky is super childish in a way, but he totes would be that one kid in CoD screaming expletives and something about Apollo's mom.

>

<???> コラッ！　滝太ッ！ Enough, Wocky!

<Apollo> あ！　常勝さん‥‥ Ah! Mr. Kitaki...

<BigWins> ‥‥滝太。いいかげんに、 目を覚ましたらどうなのだ。 ...It's high time you opened your eyes, Wocky.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ What do you know, old man!

目を覚ますのは キサマの方だろうが！ I think it's 'bout time you opened yours!

極道のミチ踏みはずして、 カネ儲けに走りやがって！ Givin' up the life, tryin' to become some kinda businessman!

<BigWins> 滝太ッ！　オマエは なにもわかっとらんのだッ！ Don't talk about what you don't understand, Wocky!

<Trucy> ‥‥そのうち、つまみ出されますね。 この調子だと。 ...I'm afraid the guard is going to throw them both out.

<Apollo> めんどくさい親子だな、 マッタク。 ...If not in jail. Wouldn't that be a happy ending.

And then he'd throw the same kind of insults at his dad too, but with less about moms, I'd hope.

>

<BigWins> オマエをこんな目にあわせたのは、 極道という生き方のせいだ。 It was the gangster life that did this to you, Wocky.

‥‥オマエを助けたい。 キレイなカネで‥‥な。 ...I want to help you, and I want to do it clean.

わかってくれないか。 ‥‥滝太。 Please understand. Wocky...

<Wocky> オ、オヤジ‥‥ D-Dad...

ば。バカにしやがって‥‥ いつも‥‥いつも、こうだッ！ M-Man, I see how it is, old man! Always you looking out for... out for...

<Trucy> た。滝太さん‥‥？ Wocky...?

<Wocky> いいか、くそオヤジ！ オレだって。オレだってなあ！ Listen good, old man! One day... One day...

いつか、きっと！ キサマをケリオトしてやるんだ！ I'm gonna take you out! Then we'll see who's the O.G.!

どこの世界に逃げてもな！ クビを洗って待っておけッ！ You try to hide in your business suit, I'll find you!

テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ Stupid ol' geezer!

<Trucy> あ！　‥‥滝太さん！ My! Wocky!

<BigWins> ‥‥コレでいいのです。 ...No, it's as it should be.

<Apollo> オヤジさん！ （その目で見つめないでほしいな） Mr. Kitaki! (I liked him more without the puppy dog eyes.)

...Wocky, ya big tsundere. I love this father-son relationship.

And it's contagious. Even Odoroki here is calling him "Oyaji-san" after all the times he was polite.

>

<BigWins> アンタたちに会えてよかった。 ‥‥ワシは、コトバがニガテです。 I'm glad... to have met you. I'm not so good with words...

やはり。プロに任せるものだね。 But I know a professional job when I see one. Thank you.

<Apollo> そ。そんな‥‥ Who? Me? I don't think...

<BigWins> ‥‥いつか‥‥ Someday...

新製品・《キタキツネもなか》を 持って、お礼にうかがうとしよう。 I'll bake you one of our latest... The Kitaki Lime Pie.

<Apollo> （‥‥お菓子屋さんにでも 　落ち着くつもりなのかな） (...He's opening a pie shop!?)

Not just a pie shop; all the sweets you could find, with their specialty "Kitakitsune Wafer"! Technically, it's monaka, which is a wafer cake usually filled with asuki bean jam. It's also among the things you can see in the credits (exclusive to the JP version, anyway) when we see this happy family again.

>

<Trucy> あ！　そうだ。 帰る前に、行かないと！ Oh, that's right! We have to go someplace first!

<Apollo> え？　‥‥どこに？ Huh? Where?

<Trucy> “報酬”ですよ！ ムギツラさんの！ Why, to claim our reward from Mr. Eldoon!

<Apollo> ‥‥ああ。しょっぱいラーメンか。 もう、屋台は戻ったのかな？ ...Ah, salty noodles. Right. He got his stand back already?

<Trucy> そのあとは、みぬきのステージも 見に来るんですからね！ Oh, and after that, you can come see my show!

ぼうしクンスペシャル。 みぬきからの“報酬”です！ With a special appearance by the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> じつはコレ、 めったにやりません。 Oh, it's special alright!

<Apollo> ‥‥だから、もういいよ。それ‥‥ Please... anything but him.

Originally the gentleman said: "It is going to be a rare sight, indeed."

--

Next up, the most infamous episode of this game for its unintentional earworm... Though honestly, I never really found it all that bad. That said, thank goodness SoJ had a skip button for certain scenes, even if I didn’t mind watching them over and over anyway.

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine:

The Batfamily is all assembled in the Batcave working on some case, when Alfred intercoms them from up in the Manor. He says there’s a man on the phone for Master Dick, with it being a matter of some urgency. Bruce starts to ask if he’s established whether its an actual emergency or something he can take a message on, but Alfred continues...

Alfred: Err, the individual in question ensured I was aware he knew Master Dick was on the premises and available to take his call...even if I did need to patch him through to our....downstairs line, as he termed it.

Bruce: Our downstairs line? He phrased it exactly like that?

Alfred: I’m afraid so, sir. He was circumspect, no doubt in deference to our....privacy in such regards, but there was little margin for misinterpretation as to his meaning. This may come as some surprise, but I have considerable practice in the art of reading between the lines, and like to imagine myself somewhat of an expert at the craft.

Bruce: *sighs* Patch him through, Alfred. Did he give a name?

Alfred: Very good, sir. And yes, he did say Master Dick refers to him as Boone.

All eyes swivel to Dick, as Alfred transfers the call to the Batcave’s ultra encrypted top secret super hush hush line. Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Dick: If I get an ulcer from the next five minutes, I’m absolutely naming it after him.

Bruce: You don’t seem surprised this person has knowledge of our identities. Why wasn’t I informed of this individual, as a potential threat of exposure?

Dick: Umm, it didn’t seem relevant?

Bruce: ....what.

Dick *shrugs*: I mean, to be honest, I mostly forgot. He’s known forever, and its not likely to ever be an issue for the same reason he’s never done anything with the knowledge before now. He’d never give our identities to someone who could potentially compromise us or harm us, because that risks someone other than him killing me before he can say he’s beaten me and proven himself better than me once and for all, and that like. Pretty much would defeat the whole point for him.

Bruce: ....I’m almost afraid to follow your logic.

Jason: I’m so happy right now.

Dick: If it helps, he’s known since like, I was eleven. So I mean, I do feel pretty confident if it was going to be an issue, he’d have made it one way before now. Hence why I....kinda just forgot. I mean, I didn’t really forget, forget, but like I said. It just didn’t seem relevant.

Bruce: ....that does not help, no.

Tim: Wait, what? Who is this guy!?

Damian: ....Grayson, did you hit your head on patrol? You’re not making any sense.

The speaker crackles to life again before anyone can press Dick for more questions.

Boone: Hello? Are you reading me loud and clear in the top secret Batcave you got there? 

Dick: Boone. What the hell do you want, and how do you even know we have a Batcave, let alone call it that? And also, what the hell do you want?

Boone: Freddy! My buddy! My pal! Long time, no ass kicking! 

Dick: Not that long. Usually you like to wait a few more months than this before ringing me up to ask for another one.

Boone: Any chance we swap this connection out for a video call? You sound irate, and that’s easily one of your top ten facial expressions. You can’t tell but I’m fanning myself just thinking about it.

Dick: I am going to kill you. It is going to hurt.

Boone: Promises, promises. You always say things like that and yet here I am, my masochistic needs still unmet....

Dick: Boone!

Boone: Freddy! Alright, unclench. No need to get your jockstrap in a bunch. I figured you had a Batcave because you obviously have to have some kind of lair on site, and your Daddy Warbucks seems too fond of his toys to fit everything in the attic, so downstairs seemed a safe space. You can relax. I’m not spying on you via a periscope sticking out of your toilets or something suitably archvillainous and cliche.

Dick: And you just happened to know its called the Batcave?

Boone: ....well on that score I mean, I have met you, and your old man does have a theme, and it wasn’t actually super hard to add two plus two and get four there. Thanks for the confirmation though. Its always nice to know I’ll still be able to make it on my brains once all this beauty begins to fade. Ah, time, that bitch. The absolute Murder Icon we all aspire to, with a body count none of us will ever match.

Dick: Did you call just to wax poetic or whatever the fuck it is you think you’re doing, or is that just a treat I’ve earned with all my good karma.

Boone: Actually, funny you should say that, because I’m calling with an exciting investment opportunity that could reap you loads of karma reward points on the back end!

Dick: ....what.

Boone: I need your help. Sorry, was that not clear? I don’t have a ton of practice on that line. My profession’s not big on the whole communal effort sort of thing.

Dick: ....what.

Boone: Oh come on, don’t be like that. It can’t be that shocking to you, I mean, you’re a hero. Helping people is what you do. You have to hear that line all the time!

Dick: Yes, just usually not from mass murderers.

Boone: Oh, you damn me with faint praise.

Dick: As long as we’re clear on the damnation part.

Boone: Besides, I mostly just murder in a singular fashion, you know, as in one at a time. There’s hardly ever any mass.

Dick: Well that changes everything.

Boone *laughs*: Oh, Freddy. We do have fun. Speaking of, how about it? You wanna hop on over to the far side of the world and bail my finely curved and plushly padded ass out of the fire, before the nefarious evildoers who are after me do unseemly and deplorable things to it and also to my organs?

Dick: And here I thought nefarious evildoer was your job description. Someone’s gunning for your head and your title? Tough day you’re having, chum.

Boone: Its the world we live in, mate. Job security just ain’t what it used to be.

Dick: Not sure if that’s the world’s fault or more just something to do with your particular line of work. If only there had been someone at some point in your life who could have warned you about your profession’s usual stats on job security. Oh wait.

Boone: I know, I know. Listen, as dazzling a pairing as my pecs-tastic physique and scintillating intellect may be, I pale before your perfection, old buddy. Be a pal and try not to hold that against me, will you? Tell you what. You come help me out of this little old bind I’ve gotten myself into through no real fault of my own, and I’ll let you give me one of those judgmental stares you’re so fond of, and you can say you told me so. Actually, you know what, for a limited one time only offer, I’ll even throw in a free spanking!

Dick: You’re an idiot.

Boone: I know, who am I kidding. I’d let you put me over your knee any day. Really, its your own fault. When all your stern talk of discipline and punishment makes bad boys like me go weak in the knees and swoon, how can we possibly be expected to keep to the straight or narrow?

Dick: ....why do I get the feeling you didn’t just know I was here, but that my whole family is present and listening too?

Boone: In my defense, I distinctly recall you being the one to tell me to get a hobby, last time we tangoed in Paris.

Dick: I was talking about things to occupy your time without killing people, not inviting you to occupy your time making my life miserable. And it was Chicago, not Paris.

Boone: Well then you should have been more specific. And I know it was Chicago, you moron. Ugh. I may kill people, but you’re murder on a theme. God, you can be such a peasant sometimes.

Dick: This from the guy who....you know what? No. Stop. I’m not getting sucked into this again with you. Get to the point, Boone. Fine, you landed your ass in more trouble than even you can handle, for once. Why is this my problem, and what would possibly make you think I would help you out of a mess you made and probably more than deserve to reap the consequences of?

Boone: Because you’re a goshdarn hero, Dickie, and a better man than me, remember? And because you’re not doing it for Shrike the mercenary, you’re doing it for your old buddy Boone. That you couldn’t save from himself and will hate yourself for not saving now, if I do wind up dead and you happen to ask yourself if you could have stopped this. Which, of course, we both know you will. So should we just skip to the part where you do what we both know you’re gonna do in the end anyway, because you can’t be anyone other than who you are anymore than I can be anyone other than who I am, no matter how much either of us wants to pretend otherwise? Or do you want to dance this out a few more songs first?

Dick: Send the situation details and coordinates to the email address I gave you last time. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and if you so much as think as killing someone while I’m there, you won’t like where I drop you off.

Boone: Mmm. Fair enough. For all the perkiness of your perky parts, your taste in venues has always been shit. You can cool your jets by at least five degrees, Mister Superhero Sir. I’m in no rush to enjoy the accommodations of Bludhaven Penitentiary a second time. They didn’t even have HBO. Barbarians.

Dick: And Boone? After I do this, you and I are through. You stay out of my way from now on, and I’ll do the same. Clear?

Boone: Oh, Freddy. Tell yourself whatever you want to, but we both know that you and I won’t be through until the day one of us dies. I’ll owe you one, let’s go with that. Alright, check your email, just sent the sitch. I’ll see you when you get here, til then this booty’s gotta bounce! Ta!

The speaker hisses static as the phone disconnects. There’s awkward silence as nobody has any clue what to say and Dick very conspicuously checks his email on his phone.

Bruce: This Boone...he’s the mercenary and occasional assassin Shrike? 

Dick just nods, his shoulders tense and uncomfortable. Everybody else eyes each other warily, except for Cassandra and Tim who exchange particularly confused glances. They fought a mercenary named Shrike once, years ago, but nobody had ever said there was anything significant about him, or hinted there was any reason he and their oldest brother should have any basis for having a conversation like...whatever that just was. 

Not to mention, even Bruce sounds weird now. Like he’s just as awkward and uncomfortable as the rest of them look and feel. And Bruce only sounds uncomfortable when talking about like. Feelings and stuff. Family situations. Never cases. Never....the bad guys.

Bruce: ....he was one of the other students at Vengeance Academy, I take it.

Dick still doesn’t look up from his phone. His voice is resigned and weary. This is not a discussion he wants to have, his siblings can tell that much. Even if the rest is all just gibberish to them.

Dick: He ended up with the League after Shrike died. Trained with them for a few years, then eventually broke off to do his own thing. Called himself Shrike in honor of....our old teacher. He was. Particularly attached to him.

Bruce: ....you...kept in touch, then?

Dick barks out a startled laugh, full of too many other emotions to put a name to.

Dick: Hardly. We’ve just....run into each other over the years since then. He figured out who I was a long time ago, when he recognized my picture in some puff piece online, about you taking me in and your charity work with kids’ programs after that. And he recognized my fighting style as Nightwing, so. It was just inevitable we’d cross paths, I guess. There’s just. There’s stuff between us that never got settled, you know?

Bruce: ...I’d almost forgotten that was where you first honed your skills with your escrima sticks. Why didn’t you ever tell me? Who he was...that you’d encountered him? Since...those days.

Dick finally looks up and studies Bruce carefully. Then he looks off to the side and sighs.

Dick: Because you’d forgotten that was where I first honed certain skills. And I didn’t particularly want to remind you, I guess.

He sighs again and shakes his head as Bruce looks about to respond.

Dick: Bruce, I....look, we’ve both put a lot of years and effort into not talking about this. Seems a shame to break our streak now. Can we just....this is just something I have to do, and I kinda need it not to be anything more than that right now. It’s just. I have to go.

Bruce: ....I understand.

Dick barks out another uncharacteristic laugh, sharp and reproachful, but at who, it’d be impossible for even him to say.

Dick: I doubt that. I don’t even understand. But I appreciate you trying to, and...letting this wait for another time. Like I said. I have to go. Sorry I can’t help out more with the case. I’ll see you all later.

Damian: Grayson, don’t be absurd! You can’t go! Whoever that man was, he’s clearly manipulating you!

Dick shakes his head and laughs one more time, but here, at least, its a bit warmer, a bit closer to his usual humor. He stops to ruffle his youngest brother’s hair as he passes him, before continuing on towards where his motorcycle is parked along the main causeway to the cave’s entrance.

Dick: Trust me, kiddo, I know. He’s not even trying to be subtle. It’s so....tacky.

All too soon, his engine roars to life, and then his cycle and its passenger speed out of the cave leaving behind only shadows, echoes, and the backglow of his headlights, all of which soon die away themselves.

In their wake, all eyes turn as one to Bruce, still seated in front of the Batcomputer.

Duke: I have questions.

Jason: I have comments.

Tim: I have concerns.

Bruce sighs.

[halitophobia]

Blind Eye - Two

Parings ⟶  OC x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (TEMPORARILY) , RK800! Connor x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (EVENTUALLY)

A/N ⟶ Thank you so, so much for the notes from the first chapter ! Btw, I’m really sorry this is a little late. I’m hoping for late weekly chapters? Every 10ish days or so...(I’ve gotten super busy, but I’m trying my best!)

Disclaimer ⟶ still don't own any characters from DBH

Warnings ⟶ swearing, violence, mentions of death, stubborn reader, stubborn Hank, spoilers...?, slow burn, sLoW bUrN, SLOW BURN, alcohol abuse (Hankster), angst, toxic relationship, eventual....fluff, happiness, cute stuff, flustered Connor, flustered Reader, all the gushy-ness, and ?????smut?????

Word Count ⟶ 3023

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

----

NOV 6th, 2038

AM 12:41:04

"Why'd you kill him?"

"What happened before you took that knife?"

     Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you watch the HK400 through the one-way glass. Your arms are crossed, face still as marble except for the bouncing of your right leg.

"Anderson. Are you cold or having a muscle spasm."

     You blink, glancing down at the one and only Gavin Reed's hands leant on the desk, but as quickly as you do, your eyes are glued back to the window.

"Let's make a bet. Like the good ol' days, yeah?" that same sandpaper voice sounds again, making you frown.

"I say," he pauses, "they had a bromance. Carlos and Andy over here." he gestures to the android. "Carlos brings home this smokin' hot 'robette' babe wanting a steamy, squeaky threesome. Attic boy gets mad and," his right arm comes up, and he stabs the air while pulsing to a beat of 'nn-s, nn-s, nn-s...', "...kills'em." So many things I didn't miss about working here...

     That fowl scent of sweat, old leather, and cheese also known as Gavin wafts your way, and you do your best not to gag. I mean, does this hobo shower? Wash his hands after shitting? A loud bang draws your attention to Hank, who's clearly gotten frustrated.

"Fuck it. I'm outta here." he grumbles, entering the observation room seconds later.

     You slowly clap watching him scowl at you.

"I'm impressed, Pops. You really stated your ground in there." you nod, earning a chuckle from Gavin. "My turn." you smile, and scurry out of the room. You hear Hank's voice yelling at you to come back, but you're already halfway through the door to the interrogation room.

     The droid doesn't move an inch as you shut the door behind you. You grin, feeling a wave of déjà vu wash over you. You've done this plenty of times before. How hard can a life-sized moving Barbie doll be?

"Alright, you piece o' shit." you can physically sense your father slapping his face behind the glass.

"I'm gonna jump right into it, okay? Okay." you drop yourself into the chair across from it, leaning back and crossing your arms and legs. "I don't know how it works in your...command center up there, but you gotta tell us what happened."

     You watch it avoid your gaze. A painful silence dances around you, only to make your skin crawl with frustration. You swing your leg back over and let it drop below you. Your arms come onto the table and you lean down, to get into its view.

"Pssst. I'm not leaving until you spill." you whisper, staring into its eyes even though it doesn't return the contact. You push back abruptly and revert to a normal volume, "So we can just skip all this," you motion between the both of you, "and you can obey, like a good little bot."

     Immediately, you see the change of energy from the suspect. Your brows lift, amused at the reaction. "Oh? Not into the whole submissive thing? I can see you got mad there. If that's even possible."

     It shifts again, seeming to get more worked up. This is perfect, you just need to push it around. No better way to let off some steam.

"You wrote 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall, like a jewelled crown atop Ortiz's lifeless head. That's what he said to make you upset, right? You were quoting him? Because, well...I mean, how on earth could you think of that? You aren't capable of...thinking for yourself." you wait, and decide to amp it up. "For all we know, that man was innocent. Just enjoying his life, wanting...a friend? And you come along? To do what? To stab him."

     There's a warning knock from the other side of the glass. You brush it off and examine the android. Chest heaving, hands clenched and jaw rippling. The lips on its face quiver, words just waiting to break the dam. And without looking back, you chimmy-changa your way across the line.

"Twenty. Eight. Times."

     You hear the tapping once again, more urgent, but still, you ignore it. Can you shut up? You're a millisecond away from confession and they choose to cut you know? Your old man probably wants to slip in and take credit.

     You're brought back to your senses as you watch the scene in front of you. The battered automaton is now writhing under the chords which bolt is slowly lifting off the table. "Hey, hey, hey. No need to cause a scene. Suck it up, and tell me wh-" your vision goes black. Well fuck me...

     The second your sight leaves, it's back but doubled. Your forehead throbs, as if a pump were behind your eyes. That motherfucking thing head-butted you. You can't help the weight sloshing around your brain, making your head pound harder. You move to stand, but stumble into the wall behind you. Get. Up.

     You feel arms hook under yours, and start to get dragged towards the door. "Get off of me!" you snap.

     Your view seeps back into HD and you ignore the sting in your head. "I'm fine! Let me finish this!" your voice is a harsh growl, and you lash around in the person's grasp.

Who is this anyway?

     Then you smell it. Oh. Reed tightens his grip, practically lifting you from your waist, and before you know it, your dropped into a computer chair facing the interrogation room. Just as you start to collect yourself, another smack is planted on your skull.

Okay what the fuck.

"Ow."

     An ice pack falls off your shoulder and into your lap. Wow, do I get a massage too?

"Nice going, Y/N." Hank spits.

     You roll your eyes, pressing them into the ice pack. With your voice muffled, you reply with 'thank you'.

"No, I really mean it. You just jeopardized this whole cross-examination. You brought that thing near to self-destruction!"

     Your brain is hoola-hooping within your skull and this ancient dick lecturing you is just hollering encouragement.

"Y/N, take this seriously. You really fucked up." Gavin chimes in.

Oh give me a break.

     You groan loudly, hoping it'll make them stop. You really don't need this. You just need five quiet minutes, and you can go back in and get that confession. Easy-peasy.

"Earth to Y/N. You may have been bumped in there, but I know damn-well you can hear me." Hank aggressively taps your shoulder and the water in the pot just boils away.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

     You're fully turned around, eyes ablaze with fire. You're cooking both men alive from your eyes and the pain from your head disappears for a moment. A silent breath escapes your parted lips, and you almost whisper.

"Will you, shut up."

     The air is thick as fog. Your sight clogged with angry-exhaustion, their's with vigilance, for they now tread on very thin ice.

"My name is Conner, what about you. What's your name?"

You're. KIDDING.

     Spinning your chair right around, you're faced with an image of pure disaster. Sir Smiley-Bot is seated across from the HK400.

"You let the fucking android interrogate the fucking android!"

     It hasn't even been twenty minutes and for the second time, you're blood is racing around your body like a jet. Running circuits in and out of your shrinking heart. Does no one have common sense in this fucking facility?

"What do we have to lose, Y/N. You've already ruined a proper examination, what's so different in sending in the thing?"

     Hank's voice destroys every sense of calm in your veins. You're going fucking bonkers now. It's like they worship this brown-haired robot. Prancing around its steel feet, praying to the android gods above. You've come to a conclusion; you are officially the only sane human in this police division. Everyone's brains are being melted by the second and they'll all just become slaves for the androids. Yup, I’ve solved the case.

"Shh, shh, shut up. Listen." Gavin lays his hand on your right shoulder, which you quickly brush off.

"I was fucking breathing."

     He replies with a grimy finger to his lips, staring forward. You sulk in the chair, intertwining your fingers atop the desk. The ice pack is balanced on your head and you stare forward. King-Droid seems to be calming the defendant down. Seriously?

"I could have easily calmed the thing down, this isn't all that fantastic." you scoff, adjusting the cooling pack.

     Hank flicks your head in response. It sure shuts you up. I am getting favoured over a bottle cap. I leave for one year and all of Detroit's been fucked in the ass by Alexa, Google Home, and Cortana at the same time. This is absolute bullshit. Choosing these things? Over trusted humans? This is surely humanity's last stra-

"No!"

...come again?

"No, please don't do that!"

     All three of you are now leant toward the glass, your nose virtually pressed on it. All that stupid popcan had to do was threaten to probe its memory ooooh spooky!

"What..."

     A beautifully awkward sound of leather, wood, and the chair squeal in harmony as your trio incline forward again. If it weren't for the one-way glass, there would be three sources of breath in their own designated spots.

"What are they going to do to me?"

Baby bye, bye, bye, BYE BYE.

"They're going to destroy me, aren't they?" its voice is in a panicked hiss.

Ding ding ding! We have a winner!

"They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice if they want to understand what happened."

     This goes on for a little while, the honoured golem teetering between comfort and warning. You just watch soundlessly, intrigued for the outcome. Cold droplets trickle down your neckline, for the pack on your head had started to melt. You can't resist the urge to shiver, swiftly wiping away the excess water.

     Your attention is slowly dispersing and you're starting to lose interest. You notice your stomach grumble - right, you'd forgotten to eat before all of this. Come to think of it, you're starving. Your gut agrees and wails to you again.

"Shh!" Gavin jeers.

Oh please.

     You start to lift onto your feet, wanting to grab a snack, but are interrupted by a voice that has been heard to the very minimal. Seriously though, vending machine cashews would kill right about now...

"He tortured me everyday..."

     Your ass is stapled back into the chair, holding your tongue as its mouth finally starts to move. You listen intently, watching the emotions.

     You're amazed at how...real these androids look. This...suspect. Its..his eyes were saying something. His face held...pain. The way he says he was scared makes your breath falter. For a moment, you could really believe they're humans...with their own lives...own problems.

     But your eyes move to the annoying one and the funky lighted circle gives it away.

     Connor no, that hurt to say... asks more questions. And that's when you feel shivers crawl up your spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. The dark-skinned bot falls into a trance, speaking of ra9. Claiming it will save them all...that they'll no longer be slaves. You swallow hard, feeling regretful...and alarmed. You blink. You never know what these two could be doing in there.

"What if they're secretly communicating to each other? Through their...biocompo-nents...? you ask under your breath.

"As if. They can't mind...speak." the brunette scoffs behind you.

"Yeah? And how would you know." you bark back.

You're interrupted by Hank, smacking both of you.

The RK800 turns its head toward the mirror; harsh and precise. "I'm done."

     You jolt up. Goosebumps on your skin, hairs on your arms standing tall and attentive. That interrogation gave me the creeps...

     All three of you flood out the main door, heading to the one just a foot away. Officer Chris Miller tags along who you literally hadn’t noticed until he cleared his throat, preparing to move the aberrant. No...that's just weird to say. Suddenly, the room feels a lot smaller. Six of you is six too many.

"Chris, lock it up." Gavin commands gruffly. You notice how he eyes the RK800, the model obviously ignoring his warning.

     Officer Miller detatches it from the table, but it jerks from his grasp. Your eyes narrow and you lean against the door, feeling drowned from the new energy in the space. Like defusing a ticking bomb.

     Gavin interjects aggressively, hassling Chris to move it. You watch awkwardly as they struggle, both of them pulling completely opposite ways. You push off from the wall, starting to get impatient.

"You're making this harder than it has to be." you state, trying to get its attention.

     Gavin yells once again, only to get the same in return. Your childish ass chimes in, telling Reed to back down, and now it's just a trio of toddlers crying for their candy. You're telling the cheese-smelling douche to hold his temper, while he's bitching about being tired. Chris yells at both of you two shut up when you notice the thing across you grab the officer's gun.

Fuck.

      In less than a second, blue...blood has coloured the ceiling. The HK400 is crumpled on the floor, gun laying loosely amoung its fingertips. Nothing stirs in all six of you. Your lungs have paused, muscles and eyes too. Your gaze is cemented on the one now pressed to the ground. The eyes still and wide like any other human lying dead. It stares off into another realm, mouth frozen in time, halfway through an inhale.

     This is what you forgot about. This part of the job. This raw, ferocious beast that gnaws at your gut. Chewing, ripping, tearing your meat agonizingly slow. Always hungry, always eating away at you.

"Holy shit."

     You whip your head at your father, revolted that the same words escaped his mouth...at the same time.

----

AM 1:34:48

     Gulping down two pills of ibuprofen, you stare at Hank talking with his plastic buddy. You're leant against his desk, fiddling around with his pens and sticky notes. You sigh as you feel someone slide up next to you.

"How've you been, fucker. You looked like shit walking into the building cuffed. 'Thought you were the one being arrested."

     The grey-eyed dickwad chuckles at his comment, anticipating your snarky retort.

"Reed, I'm not in the mood." you grumble, wiping your eyes with the underside of your fingers.

     You can sense his frown and disappointment. There's a small pause, but sure enough, he doesn't leave you alone.

"Another fight with Ben?"

Your stomach inverts and you feel the need to throw up. "Excuse me?"

     He raises his hands defensively. "Woah, woah. Just asking. You just always seem to be having problems with that guy."

"Where did you get this from, huh?" you threaten.

"Last time I saw you, you were whinging about him on the phone. You weren't being discrete."

     Sure...you weren't, but that doesn't mean he had the right to listen. He's a nosy, intrusive, grumpy old prick and you have never felt so disgusted in his presence.

"Stay out of my life, Reed. You have no right to ask me that. You have no right to assume things about me, and you have no right to be a...fucking asshole!"

"That last one isn't even-"

You slapped him.

     There's a sliver of regret, but your choler has clouded your mind. Do I have anger issues?

     Next thing you know, Hank is lecturing you about having manners, controlling your actions, thinking before you do, blah blah blah. You've heard this all before, it's like you're thirteen again, getting pestered at for feeding the dog your lasagna. Or cutting off that stupid girl's ponytail. She was a wicked shrew...

     Behind Hank, you catch Gavin start to snicker. Absolutely not. You push past the bearded man and start to pummel the brunette's chest. And I mean pummel. Beat. Punch. Slam. Not one giggle leaves his toxic mouth. Poppa tries to pry you off, but he gets an elbow to the nose. Respect your elders, am I right? All this anger...is barely even from Gavin's stupid words. This is the rage from the past two hours. Tonight has been hell. Trudging through disaster after disaster. It's all too much. Your gums start to ache due to the tightness of your jaw. Your hands begin to shake, each blow somehow impacting you. It's like you're just beating up yourself.

     A pair of arms wrap around your sore body, ripping you from your poor...punching bag. Gavin's face is already swelling. Black and blue covering his skin. Blood as the cherry on top. He's dead quiet now, breathing heavily as he lays on the ground. But then...you notice Hank on the ground too, blood spilling from his nose. If Hank's on the ground...then that means...

     You look down and see grey sleeves, detailed with black and silver. No, no, no, no...

"LET ME GO YOU CLUSTER OF RUSTY NAILS."

"I'm sorry, Detective Anderson, but you need to calm down before I can let you go."

I hate his voice, I hate his voice, I hate his voice...

"I'm calm." your voice like honey flowing over chocolate mousse.

     You drop every emotion in your face. All of your tensed muscles fall and you seep into its chest. Its arms fall from your torso. You wait a beat, then completely turn around.

You punch it square in the face.

     You watch in delight as its face snaps back. It stumbles, just once, which truly is enough for you. There's a burst of relieve and triumph, followed by a sting and numbness between your knuckles

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, fuck. Fucking fuck. Okay, so worth it, though...

----

[oh-boleyn]

katherine / infamy

words: 4880, one shot, language: english

anne / jane / katherine / catherine

TW: there are suicidal thoughts, slutshaming, victim guilt, minor ways of self harm, nightmares and some other things.

this turned to be a character study rather to any other thing but oh well, it's done

the commentary between scenes are things I got from internet about Katherine Howard.

Katherine Howard was just an attention seeker.

(…)

When they first arrived at the twenty-one century, Katherine Howard felt alone. It was a whole new world; one she didn’t have a clue of what was it about. Didn’t even have the advantage of knowing other women, except for Anna of Cleves, the only one she met during her short time as queen when they shared a dance, but nothing more.

The rest of them were just rumours while she was in court. Names nobody dared to say. Histories without faces, blurry memories. All of them carried themselves as queens. All of them except her, who was just a frightened nobody in the middle of five of the most powerful and celebre queens.

(…)

Katherine Howard was a silly flirt who actually did sleep around even after she’d married the king.

(…)

They had all been thrown into a small house. With thin walls, two bedrooms, loud queens and just one bathroom. She shared room with Anna of Cleves, this royal Germany queen who was the second divorcee, and Anne Boleyn.

A cousin she never really had the chance to meet, since Henry decapitated her when Katherine was still young. Anne Boleyn, her famous, notorious cousin, a mystery to this new world. Anne was perfect, smart, pretty, even her reincarnated version had the long dark brown hair and big curious eyes. She knew about politics, debate, could talk fluently in English and French.

In the new world, Anne Boleyn was an icon. A notorious woman who got beheaded because of her opinions and incapacity of keeping quiet was something admirable today, and everyone loved her, as the French court once did.

The opinion about Katherine was not the same. Not then, and not now. She was a traitor before, and now she was a naïve who couldn’t even save her own life. A foolish, provocative girl who warmed her way into the king’s bed, and other beds too. She didn’t have a legacy, didn’t left anything to be remembered.

(…)

Katherine Howard: Whore or Victim?

(…)

Money and finances were not something she was interested. She wasn’t good with numbers, Francis always said that. About how she was so lucky to be so pretty, or else nobody would want her as a secretary. With the years she had been discouraged to keep trying, so she just stopped.

Not every woman had been made to be good with it. Katherine considered herself more of a pretty face, rather than someone with a great intellect. It felt shallow, now more than ever. Her life was just like that, being a pretty face, smile, conceal emotions. She was raised by her step-grandmother to please. Emotion were not needed when trying to grant pleasure to someone else.

The other queens weren’t like her. And maybe that’s why they were so worried about making money or getting jobs.

The great salvation came by Catherine’s hand. Catherine Parr, not Aragon. Rewrite their histories, if everyone could make money out of it, why not them? It could be a way to reclaim what happened to them, set the record straight, be view as the real queens they were, not just six who banged the same guy.

(…)

Katherine Howard – The Material Girl?

(…)

“Catherine, almost moved into a nunnery, and then not.” Her voice sounded snob, trying to mock the other queen. “That could almost be really hard for you.” She concluded with a fake pout.

Her heart was beating faster every second. She was never good at arts.

Even when trying to please Manox, her first music teacher, he always wanted more. She could always be better, greater. It was never enough, no matter how high her voice went while singing, or how many times she practiced dancing, or how much her hand aches after playing one instrument for hours, she was not enough.

Not enough like the air in her lungs while performing. The rest of the group were natural, delivering their lines perfect, playing with the silences making it enjoyable and funny. But she wasn’t like that, she talked way too fast, pronounced words unintelligible and forgot that she had talk.

The musical, a fake competition, didn’t help her. It didn’t bring her release, or peace. Katherine felt always numb, there was no connection between what she was doing and her own story. Her past life just felt like a numb blurry dream.

(…)

Katherine Howard, a slut 17-year-old queen who was beheaded for being a slut!

(…)

It came to Katherine attention how much Catherine (of Aragon) hugged Catherine (Parr). They were usually together, helping or making each other’s hair and make-up. She knew Cathy was Catherine’s goddaughter, but the physical affection takes her by surprise anyway.

The idea of touch being something soft, delicate was so out of her range. Her father was bed-ridden and her mother died while she was young. After that everyone was rough. For the Duchess, touch was only a way of punishment. Katherine sometimes saw the ghost of bruises she would have when she didn’t behave like a lady, when her feelings were shown.

Touching was never something appreciated after that.

(…)

Manipulative, flirty seductress.

(…)

The show was doing well, so well that they bought a new house.

New is a way to say, because it’s old, really old. It needs to be fix, the stairs crack, it is too cold, and there are leaks in the bathroom. But it’s bigger, and each one of them get a room or something like that. Catherine Parr takes the basement, and Anne takes the attic. Anna decides to stay on the only bedroom that is on the first floor. And now Katherine is stuck between Aragon and Seymour.

The room feels impersonal, and Katherine is going crazy trying to make it feel more like her. She paints it, buys a carpet, a desk. When all of it fails, she starts pinning fanart to her wall, photos with Anne and Anna, tickets of plays and movies they attended. She is trying to make new memories but it doesn’t work, it feels like she is just pretending. As if she stole a life. It feels numb and impersonal.

An empty room could be a good metaphor for an empty brain. God knows she had never been bright.

(…)

The Tudors Season 3 episode guide says “As Henry presses for an end to his new marriage, a new sexual conquest emerges – young prostitute Katherine Howard”

(…)

“Kitty, I bought new chokers.” Anne says one day, entering her room.

Katherine doesn’t like buying new necklaces or chokers, maybe because she feels them dreadful. Still she wears them every day. The scar around her neck is a darker colour than her skin, resulting in a brownish tone to it. It looks grotesque. Internet, that magic source of information calls is a hypertrophic scar, thick and raised injured skin.

“Great.” She responds, smiling.

“I thought you might like the pink ones, after all you wear a lot of pink.” She started passing Katherine pieces of electric and baby pink fabric.

“And you wear a lot of green.”

“What can I say? It’s my brand.”

“Are you okay, Annie?” Katherine asks when she notices Anne does not have her usual energy.

“Yes, just Aragon getting on my nerves.” Boleyn sits on her bed. “I’m sure she hates me. It’s not news, we been knew for like, I don’t know, five hundred years. But I hoped it would change.”

“I’m sure she hates me too.”

“Why would you say that KitKat?” Anne frowns. “Did she say something to you?”

“No, but I’m sure she is not too fond of me. Mary wasn’t.”

The look in her cousin’s face does something to her stomach, twisting it. Anne loves her, and Kat knows she does. She uses pet names with her, and calls her Kit, or Kitty or variations of it. Anne tries to protect her. But Katherine knows she doesn’t deserve any of it. Why would she?

Even when she is trying her best, Katherine can’t love Anne back that easily. It doesn’t come natural to her. Giving her love to someone never resulted in anything good. Honestly, it resulted in death. She feels guilty about not reciprocating, but it’s the best way to keep the other queen safe.

“I love this pink.” She tries to change the conversation.

(…)

Michael Hirst describes her as a “Lolita figure”.

(…)

Not even in court, where nothing was private, and people would get into anyone’s problems, people had so much opinions. Nowadays, with social media and phones, everybody had a word. Parr said something about it, about Warhol and how we imposed the new “five minutes of fame”. Social media helped to convey that.

While she was dead, people made up their minds about her. It would be nice to say that they found her just to be someone trying their best, but for the most part it wasn’t. They described her as this femme fatale. A sexually active, young woman, who seduced a whole court.

Five hundred years later, she was still nothing more than a common harlot.

The movies, and TV shows helped with it. Always naked, disposed to just fuck. A toy. A possession. The king’s favourite flower.

Katherine couldn’t be really mad about it, because that was all about her. Even her solo was about how she was the ten among these three. Aragon was the faithful wife, Boleyn the witch who made England break the church, Seymour the one he truly loved, Cleves the great queen of the castle, Parr the feminist writer.

Katherine Howard was the pretty one.

There was no personality to it, just a pretty face that happened to be compared with real queens. Of course, she would never win.

(…)

A nymphomaniac.

(…)

The first time she doesn’t feel drugged or numb comes after a show.

They were just heading out, tired out of their minds. Katherine just felt tired, as always. With that voice in the back of her head telling her how she was weak for not giving more every performance.

A man took her by the wrist, and a wave came from it. Her whole-body getting tense. It comes from her wrist, all through her arm, to her shoulder, finally getting to her neck. And now she can’t breathe. His hand is still there, firm, while she is trembling.

It could have been hours, or minutes, or seconds, but her mind was panicking and racing. She couldn’t seem to hold on to a thought, instead everything became overwhelming, a dizzy feeling. Her body not responding her calls.

“Kitty, can you hear me?” A voice quietly talks. It must be Anne; she is the only one who calls her that.

“We should take her inside.” Another voice speaks. “It’s not safe here.”

“Outside air can help, Jane.” She starts focusing in what the queens are talking. “Kat?”

She manages to break the amount of nervous on her and starts breathing heavy, as if she just ran a marathon.

“I’m okay.”

She sounds raspy, more tired than before if it was even possible.

“Can we go home?”

Parr gives her a hand to take and stand up, but she refuses and decides to stand up by herself. Instead of going to Anna’s car as she would usually do, she heads to Aragon’s, sitting in the passenger seat, making sure to set distance between her and the other queen. Luckily nobody makes questions, and Parr rides with Cleves and Boleyn, so the car is not packed.

(…)

A girl whose only education was into how to please a man.

(…)

She didn’t think it was possible, but it gets worse.

Now, instead of feeling nothing, she feels too much. Way too many bad things. She feels something raw coming from inside of her. It’s so sad, it’s eating her from inside. Her limbs are so tired, but now she can’t sleep. There are nightmares keeping her awake.

It results that feeling was not good after all.

But at least, it makes her feel alive.

After a night full of nightmares, she would just go to the kitchen and serve herself, and usually Cathy Parr, a cup of coffee. If it wasn’t enough, another cup wouldn’t do any harm. She sometimes drank energy drinks if her first cup was not even of a little help, but tried not to rely on them. It was not healthy.

The rest of the queens didn’t bring up what happened, nor her new sleeping habits. Anne would shoot her concerned looks, but nothing outside that. No words.

She must not care. Katherine thought. She knows I’m Katherine Howard, too idiotic to even be sad.

She managed. Pretended to be happy, to have energy. To be oblivious.

(…)

A reckless fool.

(…)

“Jane, just stop it, okay?”

They were alone in the theatre, the rest of the queens were heading out to a bar, instead Seymour and Howard were going home. Katherine was just so tired after just two hours of sleep, and Jane simply didn’t liked bars as much as the rest of them.

“It’s cold, put on a coat or something more, you will catch a cold.” She tried to give the teenager her pink sweater, but all she got was rejection.

“Just don’t.” Katherine bitted her lip, but couldn’t help herself and snapped. “Stop acting as if I’m a child.”

“You are nineteen.” Jane stated.

“I am like five hundred years old.” There was bitterness in her voice. “Nobody cared about me being nineteen when the king beheaded me. They didn’t even care when I was younger, why now?”

“Because I care about you.” The blonde tried to look for Katherine’s eyes, but she was too focused on the ground.

“You shouldn’t.”

There were just too many connotations to what she was saying. She felt trapped inside her own mind, a mind that was useless. As long as she looked pretty, nobody should care about anything else. It was more than enough. Feelings were too complex and ended in tragedy, and whoever cared for her would have to see her downfall.

If she didn’t take them down with her.

After all, Thomas cared. Or so he said.

(…)

Cold, calculating and ambitious.

(…)

The nightmares would just not stop, even as much as she tried.

She would just wake up, agitated and breathless, with the images still going through her mind, even when her eyes were open looking to her bedroom celling.

Katherine tried all the things internet said about sleeping without nightmares. Don’t sleep on her stomach, drink something warm first, try to be warm. Nothing worked. It just got worse and worse, to a point were her still shaken up body would not response once she was awake, instead looking at dark figures that painted the walls in her room.

Internet calls it parasomnia, she calls it her brain just can’t seem to work properly.

It’s one night when after an episode she hears a knock on her door. Heavily moving aching muscles, she opens it, revealing Aragon with a bag of crackers.

“I heard you were having a nightmare.”

Katherine lets her in.

“Why the crackers?” She asks, while sitting back on her bed.

“They say that if you talk about a nightmare without eating something first, it will become true.”

She offers one to Katherine, who accepts.

“I am not sure it was a nightmare.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about it either.”

They fall into a not so comfortable silence.

“Why are you awake?” the teenager asks.

“Nights are a hard time for me. I can’t close my eyes without a memory appearing. Tonight, is Mary.”

“I remember things about her.”

“I do too. I still can remember when she was a baby, you should have seen her. Her hair was so soft, and her skin looked like porcelain. Like a doll, too perfect to be real.”

“I wasn’t even born when she was a baby.”

Aragon laughs unpredictable. “You got me there.” Her face turns darker. “I can’t wrap my head about the things she had done. What they say about her. Bloody Mary, a ghost story. She was just so kind before.”

“Life in court can change you.” Katherine establishes. “Those were other times; other things were allowed. Things people now would consider monstrous.”

“No, that is still no excuse.” Catherine smiled even with eyes full of tears. “I won’t keep you up any longer, there’s no need for it.”

“You can stay here.” Katherine spoke before thinking. “If both of us have problems sleeping, it might be good to be together.”

It becomes a thing, when they heard the other one was up, they would get a bag of crackers and go to the other room. Spending nights talking about meaningless things, trying to take their minds out of dark places.

Katherine discovers Aragon knows a lot of history, things that people have already lost, or that she never heard of. Spanish proverbs and idioms, details of her time as queen. It becomes their night time stories. Talking about the older queen’s past but never about the younger. There is something so appealing for Katherine about history, a curiosity she didn’t knew she had inside her.

It helps.

(…)

It is easy to see Katherine as a spoilt child, a child saying “I want, I want…” all the time and sticking out her bottom lip and sulking if she didn’t get her way.

(…)

Anna is objectively pretty. She doesn’t have the fine gestures of Aragon, or elegancy as Parr. She doesn’t have striking green eyes like Anne. But Anna is still attractive. Full lips, dark skin, and short hair. She chopped it off as soon as they landed to the modern times, and never let it long again.

Anna was also the only one who could remember her time as queen.

Still she doesn’t talk about it, she just ignores history all together. Cleves is great at support, noticing when they are tired and buying stuff for make them feel better.

They are friends, or so she thinks, still there is a lot that is out of the line. Things they never talk but all of them know. About her own past as queen, how Jane’s actions have led to Anne getting beheaded, about Parr’s implications with Elizabeth.

Katherine wonders if they had Googled her. If they have seen the show made about Henry. She is afraid because nobody talks about her truth, is either morbid retellings on how she was abused, on how they pimped her way into Henry’s arms, or about the teenage, spoiled brat she was.

Kat doesn’t think she is either of them. She is not just someone they used to climb their way into court, nor just a teenager who had everything she ever wanted.

Maybe she is something in the middle, constructed by pieces of it. Just pieces because she knows she is not whole; she is breaking beyond repair. Every day it passes it’s another piece, another fragment missing. A nightmare long forgotten; a night lost from her mind.

A rose without a thorn was unnatural after all.

(…)

No other wish but his.

(…)

Katherine realizes her costume is the smaller one, and not only talking about size.

She sometimes feels exposed, and wishes for pants or a better skirt, but the costume designer assured her it was better that way, to play the seductress and then surprise the audience with her real story.

Whore or victim, no in between.

At least she loved pink.

“Kitty, you ready?” Anne asked.

They were at a big studio, and their performance was going to be on TV. All the queens were so anxious the house was as loud as ever, even at night.

“I’m a little bit scared.” She admitted, punishing herself for admitting that.

“Don’t be, you do perfect every night, today is just one more day.”

Emotions fills her for a moment. And it’s not as usually the horrible, dreadful feeling, but rather a warm one.

“I love you Annie.”

Her heart is beating fast, fearing rejection by her cousin. Instead Boleyn hugs her, procuring not to squeeze her in any way she might panic.

“I love you even more Kitty.”

They stay for a while. It’s been hundreds of years since the last time someone hugged her and talked about love. But it felt real. A family bond that she never thought she could have again.

“Now, get prepared, you are going to kill it tonight.”

(…)

Had many characteristics of a juvenile delinquent, who was spoiled, fawned upon, and flattered.

(…)

Jane is the first one to start seeing a psychologist.

She has a survivor’s guilt, even when she was the one who died. But it was honest that she was also the one who came back. Katherine wants to help, but doesn’t know how. Dying is easier when you wish for it. When you leave no one behind.

“How was therapy?” Kat asks when Jane gets home after the first session.

“It’s good, I think. Talking about it was like releasing a breath I didn’t knew I was holding. I know there is still a lot to work on, but I feel like it is a good decision.” She smiles. Jane lets her hand in the table, offering it to the teenager without a word. She takes it. “Thanks for asking, Kitty.”

“Can you not call me that?” Katherine pleads, giving Jane’s hand a little squeeze. “Annie calls me that, and I like it being a thing with her.”

She knows it’s cold to just say that, but Anne has been the only one to call her that. From the moment they arrived, while everyone called her Katherine, for her cousin she was Kitty. It gave her a feeling of comfort, of belonging to a family. Boleyn was her family.

“No problem, we can look for another nickname.” Jane smiles. “I want to bake cookies, what do you think?”

(…)

Could this ‘whore in the bedroom’ really be a virgin?

(…)

“Are you okay, Catherine?” Kat asks.

The survivor was still in the kitchen, even when it was past midnight. Her face was slammed on the table, illuminated by the cold light of her notebook.

“Yes, just can’t seem to get this done.” She straightens her spine.

“What is it about?”

“Just about Spain history, and the colonies.”

“Can I read?”

“Yes. I will make tea.” Parr handles the computer to the fifth queen.

Catherine takes two mugs, and chooses peppermint tea for them both. When the water is hot, she serves it, and takes the sugar to the table.

“It is good, really.” Howard says.

“I can sense a “but”.” Catherine laughs.

“You are only taking one side; you should know how Spain sent a lot of people from the church on missions to re-educate the natives. Las misiones Jesuitas. Politics and religion were more connected than what this make it look like.”

“That’s… Very true. I didn’t know you were interested in history.”

Kat can feel her face getting redder and warmer, embarrassed.

“It’s great, if you ever want to work together, you know where to find me.”

Work. Work together.

The teenager is not sure about how to react.

(…)

If only she had been willing to put her pride and title aside, (…) she may have lost her title as queen but kept her head.

(…)

When she realizes how much her life had changed, it’s more than half a year since they arrived.

There is still something obscure, twitching inside of her. The voices of a million ghosts, and even more people now with their opinions.

Researching history with the first and the last queen helps her. She starts noticing the changes in the discourses, how things that could be empowering before now are just mere normal things. The idea of a part of history she missed is attractive, and she spends hours on Wikipedia and blogs before talking to Parr about trivia facts she finds of the years they were dead.

The house gets better by the time. Having it painted, changed the plumbing, renewed the stairs. It also gets better with them, slowly growing into a group, learning how to deal with each other.

It’s slow, but it gets better.

(…)

I have to conclude that Catherine was incredibly stupid and foolhardy.

(…)

Katherine decides to start therapy. Jane talks highly of how it affected her, how she resolved so many things about her past. And the youngest queen just wants that, to be liberated, to step out of her own shadow.

At first therapy was good, having a chance to talk about her feelings, about living with people who were totally strangers. Adapting to a new world. Having a cousin. It all comes easy, it’s just the way it is. It gives her a short feeling of release, of being liberated, but it always quickly vanishes.

Not everything can always be smooth sailing in her life.

“What is a child?” Her psychologist, a woman in her middle thirties asks.

“A child?”

“Yes, what do you consider a child?”

“A really young human, I guess.”

It’s a weird question, and she feels as if she was being interrogated. That is what exams must feel like.

“I can’t really remember a lot from my childhood.” Katherine starts. “It’s just things. My mother died when I was five. I loved dancing; my father let me study it. I was never good at important things, such as math or music.”

“Why you weren’t?”

“I’m not sure. Manox always told me how I wasn’t enough, how I should try harder and be better. Francis was also like that, telling me to be quiet, to please. My grandmother also was like that, wanted all of us, the ladies to be better.”

She waits, thinks how to continue.

“I think what I always wanted to do was to make them proud, to be always better. I wanted to be liked, just that. I thought that if I was better my father was not going to leave me in a place full of people I didn’t know.”

Katherine can feel herself thinking again, trying to put her thoughts into words once, and once again.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Katherine?” Her psychologist watches her straight to her eyes. “Why are you hiding things for me? You think, and think, and think again, trying to control what your saying, how you move, how you act. I can’t judge you, and I won’t. You need to be real here, or else therapy is not going to help.”

“When I was real, I died.” Tears are streaming down her face; a pout is there and she doesn’t want to look so much like a child, but she feels small.

“Were you real? Why did you love him?”

(…)

She must have had rocks in her head.

(…)

It takes time after that, to really open up.

It takes even more time to notice that a lot of her thoughts weren’t hers, but rather thoughts she had attached herself to. It becomes difficult to realize that she is made of other people’s opinions. That she is just a victim of an adult game. It doesn’t come easy, and when it comes, it breaks her.

It breaks her to the core, to a point she is not sure how to act because that’s all she has ever knew.

(…)

Katherine had been shameless. She had been deceitful. But that was all.

(…)

Anna is there when she gets back from one therapy session.

“How was it today?” Cleves asks.

“Was I just a child?” Katherine returns a question.

“Explain that, please.”

The queen who lived the longest makes the youngest sit on the couch.

“Was I just a child when I arrived to court?”

“You were. You were so young and knew so much about things I couldn’t even imagine.”

“I thought I was an adult.”

“That’s what older people want to make you believe to manipulate you. “You are wiser”, “Too mature for your age”, “You know better than others”.” Katherine is trembling, but that doesn’t stop Anna. “They made you believe you were ready so they didn’t have to live with their own guilt. But you are just a victim.”

The teenager starts crying, and Anna hugs her.

“I thought it was my fault.” She admits. “I thought it was me.”

(…)

There is so much that is not known about her that I am still thinking of all the ideas that people have suggested.

(…)

Dealing with trauma is not easy. Katherine slowly learns to manage. Sometimes is harder, when breathing exercises are too much for her panicking brain, or when nightmares can’t seem to stop. But she still gets out of them, learns not to blame herself.

She learns to be loved. Truly love. Not to fear emotions.

Katherine gets mad, and forgives, taking matters into her own hands. She learns to be young, to be carefree.

She learns to unlearn everything she knew, to question other people opinions about herself to the point she knows who she is, and can’t bring herself to care what an history book or some random person on internet has to say.

It’s hard, but she learns to own and embrace who she is.

[welcome-to-the-whumpfest]

The Meeting Room

Prologue   /   Part 1   /   Part 2   /   Part 3

__________________________________

How long has it been? One, two months? Angel doesn’t know. He hasn’t been outside the attic in God knows how long! He’s desperate for a hint of light, but not desperate enough that he would beg for it. No. He has stayed strong, stronger than they expected. He hasn’t broke and has no plan to. Other than Sir and Mistress, Angel hasn’t seen another soul since his arrival at this disgusting house. He’s so utterly sick of this place, he’d do anything to get out.

Well, almost anything.

The world shifts a tad when Sir enters the attic. He has that usual gleam in his eye, like he knows something Angel doesn’t. Sir loves feeling like he’s in control. It excites him. He feels powerful. However, it’s times like these that he’s at his weakness. His mind isn’t focusing on his proximity to Angel or the fact that he’s left a certain part of his body too close to Angel, completely unprotected. Unfortunately for Sir, Angel’s never one to pass up on an opportunity to take a shot at his captor.

Sir is too careless with his movements as he reaches towards Angel’s wrists – which are manacled above his head while he sits on the ground. A surprised and pained groan escapes Sir as Angel grips his chains lifting himself off the floor with enough momentum to kick his captor directly between his legs. Frustratingly, he’s lost so much strength, it doesn’t have the desired effect. No severe damage is done, but that doesn’t mean it is painless. 

Retaliating ragefully, Sir grips his firefly by his hair, yanking his neck back, exposing it. Then he shoots some magic into his prisoner’s collar, tightening it. Angel doesn’t care. It was bound to happen anyway. Good behavior doesn’t get rewarded; only bad behavior gets a reaction. Angel had tested it out. After getting bored, the crafty prisoner decided to see if being good – not attacking Sir when he put his guard down – would end up with a positive aftermath. He was wrong. Sir only seemed to enjoy hurting his firefly.

Angel doesn’t know why he expected anything different from a psychopath.

As his brain starts short-circuiting due to lack of air, Angel closes his eyes. He has been choked and strangled so many times after Sir discovered his dislike of neck touching. It is getting old. Angel is more fed up with his captor then the other way around, which he can’t seem to understand. It is the same thing every day: beat, choke, retaliate, beat. What was so exciting about that? Angel couldn’t understand it.

Angel’s eyes suddenly open. This isn’t right! He’s never been strangled this long before. Is-is Sir going to- to kill him? His face is turning blue due to lack of oxygen. Wait, when did he get out of the manacles? There’s something pressing into him. Oh, he’s being carried. The attic’s entrance… ‘s getting… clos… er…

*****

When Angel wakes up, he’s muzzled. Muzzled for crying out loud! The first thing he registers other than the harsh straps of the muzzle squeezing against his skin, is the muffled voices. Unfamiliar voices. A sliver of hope arises in his chest. Maybe, he can get out! The wish instantly vanishes when he makes out the chains around his wrists that are connected to a table where Sir is sitting in a chair above him. Ignoring the rattling of chains above him as he rubs his eyes, Angel blinks a few times before his blurry vision returns to normal. The room is vast with expensive furniture, a chandelier, and divine pictures. There are candles littered everywhere giving the room a dreamlike illumination. Still, it’s uncomfortable. It’s clear this is not Sir and Mistress’s house. Angel presses a palm to the ground to push himself up but stops abruptly when he feels the texture underneath his hand.

It’s a rug!

He hasn’t felt anything soft in so long. When the muffled voices start transforming into words, Angel knows his senses are finally coming back. That means it’s time to fight. Time to form a plan. Time to escape, and if that’s not possible, make Sir as miserable as possible.

It’s time to work.

“Sir you really must see the Collector’s toy. It’s the most gorgeous little thing I’ve ever seen!” A woman with a lavish, scarlet gown speaks with a pleasant air to Sir.

“So, I’ve heard.” Sir smiles that smile Angel knows all too well. “One moment.” Once the woman walks to the opposite side of the room (which is cluttered with important looking men in suits and women in gowns) Sir focuses his attention on his firefly, who is finally awake, looking as perfect as ever on the gorgeous rug beneath him. “Aren’t you a beauty.” Sir says under his breath, mostly to himself. Then his voice reaches his usual tone, “Now, little firefly, I’m going to leave momentarily, so don’t cause any harm until I come back.”

Angel makes sure not to give away any emotion or idea lingering in his eyes at this news. He doesn’t nod; he just stares at his captor expectantly. Every fiber of his being hates this muzzle, these chains, and sitting on the floor. It’s humiliating, especially in front of all these people who think they are worth so much more than he is.

He doesn’t think like a slave, pet, or whatever these revolting people think he should be. The only thought on his mind is escape. If he has to take down everyone in this room with him, he will in a heartbeat.

When Sir leaves, Angel remains chained to the table above him. Unsure if he should stand up or continue to observe the room from here, Angel notices something appalling. He’s not the only one in chains.

There are other individuals in muzzles, chained to their captors or tables above them. Angel isn’t having any of this, but he must be patient and careful in escaping. Suddenly, all of the people in formal attire, gather to the far end of the room. They seem to be looking at something. A large, burly man (a bit round in Angel’s opinion) appears to be the center of attention. His voice sounds like a king’s, able to control a room with a single word.

The man seems to be enjoying the attention; he wears a blue, velvet suit with a dark navy bowtie. He reeks of wealth. Everyone is gossiping about the man, and Angel is able to pick out his name, or at least what he’s called: The Collector. Nothing good can come of a title like that.

Sneakily, Angel slowly raises an arm to his muzzle. There’s a buckle he can undo easily enough. What? Did Sir expect him to obediently keep it on? That man is duller than he thought, but if he took it off, he’d still have the chains to deal with. More importantly, the collar around his neck. That’s when Angel sees it – on the floor just a little ways ahead of him – a bobby pin.

For once in his life, Angel is grateful for growing up on the street. He could pick the lock on his collar in his sleep. Easy! The chains may not be so easy; it would be too noisy. He’d have to come up with another idea for that.

As he crawls forward, at an agonizingly slow pace to reach the pin, he glances up making out what the Collector is showing off. Angel wants to throw up! Cornered in the room is a boy around his own age. He has thick, brown hair, which he is purposely pushing over his face in a pathetic attempt to hide. Angel can see him shivering from the opposite side of the room. Everything about this is so wrong!

Snatching the bobby pin, Angel leans back to hear the Collector’s voice over the whispering crowd. He’s talking to the boy. “Look up. Let them see your pretty face.” Of course, Angel can’t see his face from where he’s sitting on the ground, but he can already imagine the fearful look the poor boy must be giving. He’s never seen anyone shake that badly.

That means the boy… he’s broken.

Angel is really going to throw up! Trying to rip his thought away from the unfortunate boy, he starts fiddling with the pin as unassumingly as possible. The collar will have to be the first thing to go.

As the crowd packs together a bit tighter to get a better look, some of the audience members glance around at the other muzzled individuals. Now that there is no line to look around, a few of the wealthy stray and begin walking around. One man in particular with dark skin and nearly black eyes is coming far too close to Angel’s location. A tighter grip of uneasiness sickens his stomach. Angel looks down at the ground, slowly drawing nearer to the table and hiding the collar behind him - hoping that no one will notice its absence. If he can pick lock the chains from the table, he might have a chance.

But he’s running out of time!

The man is gradually nearing him, Angel quickly works on the chains attached to the table. A faint “clinking” sounds from the right one. Now for the left –

“Well aren’t you a mischievous one?” The dark man is now directly before Angel; he’s crouching down to get a better look. Stealthily holding the right chain to the table, he hopes the man won’t notice that it’s no longer attached. Slim chance of that. “You’re certainly a beautiful little thing, aren’t ya? Too bad Sir isn’t selling ya. I’d pay a pretty price for your stunning eyes alone.” Angel keeps his eyes away from the man – since that’s what the other muzzled ones do – and uses his muscle memory to try and unlock the left chain. He almost has it; he just needs to keep this man’s attention long enough. That isn’t a terribly difficult task seeing as though the man hasn’t stopped talking and is assumed to be a chatterbox. Wealthy people always are. “Who am I kidding, even me with all my money, couldn’t afford ya.” Reaching an arm out, the man pets Angel’s black waves with a heavy hand. Angel has to hold his breath to keep his hate out of his expression.

The Collector has stopped talking in the distance and the crowd has grown louder. As their volume rises, a sense of urgency sinks into Angel’s forcedly calm hands. The man is growing closer and closer to him. He can feel his warm breath tickle his eyelashes; he stinks of wine and expensive cologne.

The next events happen in the blink of an eye. Swiftly and in one motion, Angel frees his left wrist, wraps both the chains around the man’s neck, and brings them against his head – attempting to unbuckle his muzzle. He can only hope that no one notices the choking noises that the man is making; luckily for him, the man is far too surprised to fight being put in this hold, and now he’s securely tied still. Now, if only Angel’s can get his Advances to work – they have been suppressed for so long that it is a struggle to reawaken them – escaping would be so much simpler.

Standing up now, Angel eyes the nearest door. He can reach it! Taking a few steps forward, he feels the man before him start to grow heavy and more frantic. Thrashing about, the man’s long arm manages to snag the side of the table making a loud sound. At this, a few audience members turn.

Then. The room explodes with noise.

[colourmayfade]

10/17/19

an overview of my dream

tw: homophobia

i had a dream where i was living with my grandparents (bc my brain says Screw You Mom and Dad, I Trust Them More) and we lived together in this mansion. the mansion itself wasn't very modern - it was cut and built in an earlier style... couldn't tell you what time it was from, but it was painted with a lot of dark blue and had this big ass porch.

also, for some reason, i always wore dresses and these ankle socks with black, shiny flats?? my grandma curled my hair every day too? i looked like. a doll 

anyway, halfway throughout the dream (don't worry about what happened before this - it was just regular life stuff. me playing with my friends outside, eating dinner w/ my grandparents, me searching through the attic out of curiosity, etc) i noticed this man that lived nearby to us kept looking at me as i'd play in the backyard.

in that part of the dream i had gone outside just to look at the trees, and i noticed him pacing on this sidewalk at the end of the yard. when he saw me he smiled and leaned over on the little stone wall we had surrounding the place (not so much for protection, but decoration - it went, like, to his waist).

of course, i didn't like this adult white male waiting for me when i was utterly alone, so i started walking towards the back entrance (which i specifically remember had these little stairs leading up to it, and i had to open up a screendoor before i could get to the actual door) and he started following me along the stone wall as i sped up.

eventually he met me to my right, across from the door, and asked me, "you don't know what's happening to your house, do you?"

i was fumbling with the keys and not wanting to hear him, but then he shouted right as i bolted into the house, "it's been sold! you can't afford it anymore!"

i closed the door and ran inside, but he continued to follow me as i walked through the different rooms on the first floor. i knew my grandparents were in the front porch, and as i walked through the back entryway into the dining room and into the huge foyer (i'm talking huge. it had these high ass ceilings, giant windows, big chandelier...) i continued to make eye contact with him through the windows as he followed me from outside, alongside the house.

i burst through the front door, and ran to my grandparents on the porch as he rounded the corner, and i explained everything to them in this big puff of air (i was out of breath). once i told them everything that he had said, he started shouting that stuff at me again, but this time he also was getting angry at my grandparents for not telling me sooner. it was clear he just wanted to upset us, specifically me, and my grandpa pulled me behind him as my grandma started chewing him out for wanting to disrupt us or stir up trouble or whatever i was told to go inside, but i found out that we were Wayyyyy behind on bills and shit, and we were losing the house.

of course, i was Scared. 

jump ahead in my dream (because dreams do that for some reason. smh) where we were having a fundraiser or party in our house, i think, basically? we'd let tons of vendors and Rich People come into our house, and mainly our reception hall (yeah we had one don't @ me).

we had a lot of people scattered around the place that were giving out free samples for their foods or products and in return to us letting them be there and advertise and shit, they were paying us? so. y'know. also i'm fairly sure these people paid a tiny admission fee to get in? but they were all my grandparents Rich Friends or whatever and they literally didn't give a fuck 

i remember i was walking all throughout the halls looking at all these really fancily dressed people walk around my house i don't know why it was fascinating for me, but it was. i liked seeing all these people in suits and dresses, even though that was what i wore every day and was wearing, too. 

as i observed all of them anyway, i go to the main foyer of the house where my friends were all huddled together 

i tried to go and get to them, but as i was swooping through all these stands, i accidentally bumped into this girl my age in this really pink dress (i specifically remember it was pink, and had a lot of tulle) and she was... really fucking pretty 

 i remember sitting there being awestruck, aware she was talking to me, but unsure of how to respond, because i just kept thinking in my head, what's her name? what's her name? all i can think of to refer to her as is 'pink dress'. i'm not ever gonna get her name, am i?’

sure enough i didn't get her name 

her dad, the owner of that stand, pulled me away from her by the arm and told me to go off to my friends if that was what i wanted to do and so i did (begrudgingly) return to my friends (though we really weren't that far away from that stand. we were like. right next to him. on a nearby loveseat) 

and so i started whispering with my one friend about how i really liked her because i'm That Gay

she, too, kept referring to the girl as something along the lines of 'pink dress' 

both of us jumped when we heard it come from someone us, and not us, in the direction of the stand and we turned to find that the dad had repeated it, and he was smiling at us. it was brief, however, and quickly turned into a scowl he stomped over to me and yanked me to my feet, and started barking at me to stay away from his daughter, and about how thoughts like those were sick and disgusting themselves, ya da ya da and then in turn he tried to set my up with my guy friend, who i had been seen hugging just a little bit before that and it got to the point where what he was saying was so fucking rude, because it spanned from sexuality to just me and my appearance, that i didn't know what to do 

so 

i respectfully explained that i lived in the house, and was related to the owners, and if he wanted to remain in the house and be able to advertise, he needed to let go of me and stop saying such things to me, or he'd be asked to leave 

in turn he nodded, and said, "oh, so you're one of those spoiled brats is what you're telling me?" 

my friends all shot up and got really defensive 

annnnnd it turned into a big verbal fight it ended with the man yanking my hair and pulling me down to the ground before he ran

random but it was really vivid and i specifically remember having thought processes, too, and when i woke up i was Shook

[mygalfriday]

i’ll be your man if you got love to get done

{ao3}

Eden Loft is a quiet little café just off Carnaby Street in Soho, all crumbling brick and choking vines on the outside. It looks almost abandoned from the outside, its wild exterior concealing a warm, cozy interior filled with small round tables, leather sofa, and worn armchairs. Potted plants line the bookshelves, the windowsills, and the countertop. The scent of warm scones and coffee fills the air, mixing with the verdant plant life to create an atmosphere both soothing and invigorating. It’s one of Anthony Crowley’s favorite places to stop for a caffeine fix.

This afternoon, however, he lingers outside on the pavement, reluctant to venture inside. With the afternoon sunshine filtering in through the expansive windows, it would be easy to glance inside and spot his date. The only thing stopping him is knowing the sight of whichever poor sod Anathema has guilted into this blind date will make him turn on his heel and leg it back home. He doesn’t even know why he’d agreed to this. The last time his friend had set him up on a date, Crowley had ended up spending an entire evening with some pillock who never touched his food and barely looked up from his mobile.

It’s just so difficult to meet people when he spends all his time working his arse off to make sure his club isn’t a complete failure. Even though The Serpent has been open for a few years now and even though it’s a packed house nearly every night, the nightclub still requires almost all of his time and attention. So Crowley isn’t asking for the love of his life or anything. He doubts such a person even exists. But a few months of shagging someone he can actually have a conversation with would be a nice change of pace.

And that’s what he’s doing loitering outside Eden Loft on a Sunday afternoon.

Crowley groans and reaches for the door.

He steps inside and the scent of fresh pastry and the rich aroma of expensive, organic coffee wafts over him. Tucking his sunglasses into the neck of his black t-shirt, he scans the crowded space for the man Anathema had described. Blond, she’d said. A bit old-fashioned. Crowley had taken that to mean no shagging until the third date but his eyes land on a man who looks like he just returned from tea in the Victorian era and he just knows he’s found his date. Ezra Fell.

Fucking Anathema.

Gritting his teeth, Crowley braces himself for another date from hell and saunters reluctantly across the café. The table where his date sits is beside the bookshelves on the back wall and it appears he’d plucked a novel from the shelf to keep himself occupied while he waited. He seems thoroughly engrossed in whatever it is, flipping through it as Crowley approaches, and doesn’t even look up until Crowley’s shadow falls over the page.

He lifts his head, a pleasant, absent-minded smile on his face. And Crowley’s breath catches painfully in his throat. He’s beautiful. His short blond curls look astonishingly soft and his blue eyes are bright and kind. Though his hands look manicured and soft as they rest against the crisp pages of his book, his chest is broad and sturdy and Crowley imagines he’s deceptively strong beneath that prim waistcoat. Pink-cheeked and full-lipped, Ezra Fell looks like something Michaelangelo might have painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. His clothes are utterly ridiculous, of course, and he isn’t at all Crowley’s usual type but nevertheless, he’s…beautiful.

“Anthony Crowley, I presume?”

Realizing he’s been standing in one spot staring at him like a simpleton for fuck knows how long, Crowley unclenches his jaw and forces himself to blink. “I - yeah. Ezra, is it?”

Ezra beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gestures to the seat across from him. “Please, sit.”

Disarmed by that wide smile - Christ alive, Crowley could swear the room grows a few shades brighter - there is no other option but to sit. He sinks gracelessly into the chair across from Ezra, long limbs sprawling. Sitting closer does nothing to make Ezra less attractive, only gives Crowley a better view of his perfection. It’s ridiculous. He looks like he just stepped out of an Oscar Wilde novel. Why can’t he stop staring?

“I already ordered for you,” Ezra says, oblivious to Crowley’s internal struggle to regain use of his tongue as he gestures to the cup and plate across the table. “I hope you don’t mind. It just gets so terribly crowded in here on Sundays. I didn’t want you to have to wait.”

Ezra watches him hopefully, as if expecting Crowley might be annoyed. And fucking hell, speak. “No,” Crowley manages, relieved when his voice comes out relatively normal. “S’fine. You’ve uh, you’ve been here before then?”

Surely Crowley would have noticed him at some point. He’d have looked up from his mobile one morning and saw him across the café, standing in line waiting for his tea or sitting at a table like this one reading another book. He’d have noticed a man like Ezra if they’d ever been in the same room together before. He may not have approached him but he’d have stared just as he is now - probably from behind his sunglasses and over the top of a newspaper he wasn’t actually reading - and been just as charmed by his quiet grace and sunny smile.

“Oh, quite often.” Ezra shuts his book and folds his hands primly over the cover. “But only on Sundays, I’m afraid.”

Ah, that explains how they’ve never run into each other. Sunday mornings are usually when Crowley is lounging about in bed, nursing a hangover after kicking out whoever he’d brought home with him the night before. Crowley’s usual type isn’t the sort to stay for breakfast anyway.

Ezra cuts off a bite of his pastry with a knife and fork, focusing on the task with an intensity Crowley has never seen given to food before. “The rest of the week, I usually get my tea from the museum’s café. Though it isn’t nearly as good as it is here.” He brings the bite of pastry to his mouth and sighs as he chews, his eyes fluttering a bit and a low hum in his throat. He even wiggles a bit in his seat.

Captivated, Crowley rests his chin in the palm of his hand and watches him eat. “Right,” he says, forcing at least a small portion of his brain into focusing on the conversation. “You work at the British Museum. How’s that?”

“Oh, lovely.” Ezra dabs neatly at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I oversee the archival department, preserving and maintaining all of our historical documents.”

It sounds utterly dull to Crowley but the way Ezra lights up as he talks about his job is far from boring. He smiles and gestures as he talks, regaling Crowley with a tale about a shipment of letters the museum had received earlier that week. They’d been uncovered in the attic of some ancestor of one of Hemingway’s secret lovers and apparently, they’re going to rock the literary world on its axis. Ezra talks about the contents of these letters like someone else might relay a bit of scandalous gossip and Crowley finds himself listening intently. He doesn’t even think about touching his food or his coffee, chin in hand as he gazes across the table and watches Ezra gesture as he talks and take delicate little bites of his pastry.

“And Anathema tells me you own a nightclub?” Ezra sips at his tea, watching Crowley with that same focus he'd given his food. It’s startling enough to make Crowley straighten from his slouch and wipe his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. “It sounds terribly exciting.”

Looking at him, Crowley doubts the man has ever set foot on the same street as a nightclub but he rather loves that he’d bothered asking about it. The Serpent may be an exhausting, soul-sucking venture but it also happens to be Crowley’s baby. He tells Ezra a bit about the club, detailing how quickly it has grown and how much work it takes to keep it at the top of everyone’s list. He talks about the type of people who frequent the place, the live music they have every night, and how much he loves being his own boss.

Ezra listens to every word, asks questions in all the right places, and never once tries to interrupt and make the conversation about himself again. “It must keep you quite busy,” he says after Crowley tells him about his upcoming open interviews to hire staff for the busy season. He eyes Crowley with concern, as though trying to decide if he eats enough or gets enough sleep. It’s such a quiet, protective glance that Crowley feels something warm and foreign bloom inside his chest.

He shrugs, glancing away with his heart in his throat. “I don’t mind,” he says. “I like keeping busy.”

“Yes, I understand. My work is very important to me. But I must admit I’ve found myself craving a bit of companionship recently.” Ezra glances down into his teacup, then looks at Crowley through his lashes. Crowley stares again, helplessly charmed. “I can’t imagine you have similar difficulties finding pleasing company.”

Fucking hell. The man out of time is flirting with him.

Crowley swallows.

“May I ask why you agreed to this setup?” Ezra presses, glancing away again. “Surely you have plenty of opportunities to meet people in your line of work. I, however, am confined to the back rooms of a museum all day.”

Meeting people, yes. Loads of them. In the past three months, Crowley has brought home a lead guitarist, one of the Serpent’s bouncers, a grad school student in leather trousers, a barrister looking for a cheap thrill, and one of his bartenders. Not one of them has managed to hold his attention the way Ezra Fell seems to so effortlessly. Crowley wants to know everything about him. Why did he choose archival work? Why does he dress like a bloody regency dandy? Why are his eyes so kind and blue? Why is he so interested in every word Crowley says? Why did he choose that particular book from the shelf? How does he take his tea? What is it about him that makes that pastry look so much more tempting when it’s sliding between his soft pink lips?

Crowley wants to bring him home and study him, take him apart under his hands until he understands what makes him tick, and then tenderly put him back together again. He wants to stroke his blond hair and nuzzle his throat and call him all sorts of endearments he’s never used before on anyone. He wants Ezra, in all the ways he never expected to want anyone after a lifetime of being alone and convincing himself he liked it better that way when all along, he was just afraid no one would want him back.

Outwardly, he only shrugs again, his eyes lingering meaningfully on Ezra as he says, “Suppose I’ve been meeting the wrong people.”

Ezra blushes. 

They linger over their tea, discussing everything from politics to what they studied at university to their childhoods. Crowley tells Ezra about being an orphan churned out of the system by the age of seventeen and Ezra confides in him about his conservative Catholic upbringing and his ongoing struggle to overcome the subsequent stain of guilt religion left behind long after he shed its chains.

When the tea has grown cold and the pastries have been eaten, Crowley insists on paying the bill. And suddenly they’re standing outside on the pavement, the afternoon sun gone soft and hazy. It slants gently across Ezra’s blond curls like a halo and Crowley stares at him longingly. Angel, he thinks, and his heart skips several beats.

“I do appreciate you meeting with me, you know. I’m aware I can’t be what you were hoping for.” Ezra wrings his hands and Crowley has the sudden wild urge to clasp them between his own. “I told Anathema you couldn’t possibly-”

“You’re perfect,” Crowley blurts, before he can stop himself.

Fuck. Very smooth.

That sort of line would get him laughed at by just about anyone else but Ezra stills, gazing up at him wonderingly. As if Crowley had just reached up and plucked a star out of the sky just for him and handed it over on a silver platter. “I-” He squares his shoulders, meeting Crowley’s gaze. “I do hope I’m not being too forward but… I would like to see you again, Anthony. If you’re amendable.”

Christ, he even talks like he belongs in an Austen novel. Crowley is utterly gone on him already.

Looming over him, Crowley peers into sweet, hopeful blue eyes and swallows roughly. “I’m amendable,” he murmurs. “Very.”

“Oh.” Ezra breathes out a relieved little noise and sways toward him, his smile breathtaking. Literally. Crowley cannot breathe. “Good.”

Reaching for him with a shaking hand, Crowley cups his pink cheek and watches Ezra’s eyes widen. “This all right?”

“Yes,” comes the immediate reply. Ezra licks his lips and Crowley nearly hisses. “Quite.”

With permission, Crowley closes the gap between them and captures that enticing mouth with his own. He tastes exactly like raspberries and flaky pastry and tea. Crowley usually takes his tea without any sugar at all but Ezra tastes like five lumps of sugar and a dash of milk. His mouth opens eagerly and Crowley groans. He presses closer, leaning against Ezra’s broad chest and burying his hands in soft blond curls.

It should be impossible to taste this warm and sweet and absolutely fucking perfect but Crowley knows with sudden certainty that kissing Ezra Fell is like drinking directly from the sun itself. He loses himself in the slick, hot slide of their mouths and their grasping hands. Everything around him blurs and time loses all meaning. He isn’t aware of where they’re standing on the pavement in front of Eden Loft, he doesn’t notice the disgruntled people passing them by or the warm late afternoon breeze ruffling his hair. There is only Ezra clutching at his t-shirt and making those delightful little noises, wriggling adorably under Crowley’s wandering hands.

When they finally break apart, panting, the world feels different. As though an entire solar system has rearranged itself, orienting now around Ezra Fell. Crowley noses at his cheek, struggling to find his voice as Ezra keeps one hand curled tightly at his waist. Clearing his throat, he rasps, “Anathema told me you were old-fashioned.”

Ezra makes a soft, contrary noise and turns his head to press his lips to the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Only in dress,” he murmurs, somehow managing to sound prim despite the arousal Crowley can feel pressing into his hip. “I assure you.”

Swallowing laughter, Crowley pulls back just enough to look into his eyes. “My place then?”

As Crowley lifts a hand to stroke his cheek, Ezra smiles. “After you.”

[vliyarchive]

rooms

REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG

tagged by :  kept  seeing  it  on  the  dash  so  naturally  i  did  what  i  always  do  and  ganked  it tagging :  idk  man  i  started  filling  this  out  at  5 am  and  have  no  idea  who  hasn't  done  it  or  not  yet

Kitchen:

What is the character’s favourite food?:  doesn't  have  a  true  ' favorite, '  so  to  speak,  just  a  few  dishes  it  favors  with  a  big  emphasis  on  few;  skekTek's  a  terribly  picky  eater,  bordering  on  meticulous.  greens  along  the  lines  of  tuber  plants  i.e  merkeep  —  cooked  throughly  —  are  high  on  the  short  list.  it  will  eat  meat  and  eat  it  regularly  but  only  really  if  it's  chewy  or  kinda  stringy,  armalig  is  definitely  high  on  the  list  due  it's  texture,  something  skekTek  is  also  meticulous  about.  oh,  and  those  little  grub   /   wormlike  creatures  we  see  here  and  there.  those  are  delicacies  to  them  and  they'll  eat  ' em  raw  and  by  the  dozen,  especially  the  bigger  and  chunky  ones. Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?:  definitely  not  good  at  it.  it  has  only  cooked  once  in  it's  life  and  it  was  essentially  just  them  holding  a  chunk  of  landstrider  thigh  over  an  open  flame  in  the  laboratory  and  hating  every  second  of  it.  never  again. Do they leave the dishes out?:  the  skeksis  eat  as  a  group  in  the  dining  hall  and  leave  the  dishes  to  podling  servants  each  and  every  time,  but  skekTek  doesn't  exactly  get  to  dine  with  fellow  lords  often.  most  of  it's  meals  are  leftovers  gleamed  from  the  kitchen  when  it's  supposed  to  be  closed,  and  there's  usually  small  stacks  of  plates  and  soup  bowls  here  or  there  in  the  lab  when  they're  really  in  the  zone  and  can't  be  bothered  to  move  them  right  at  that  moment,  but  skekTek  values  it's  organized  clutter  and  will  never  leave  something  unwanted  out  for  long.  again,  meticulous.  What kind of food is in their refrigerator?:  no  refrigerator,  but  as  i  mentioned  above,  skekTek  takes  leftovers  for  itself  and  nurses  off  of  those  as  it  works,  too  caught   -   up  to  properly  eat.  there's  a  few  boxes  in  a  room  towards  the  back  of  the  lab  that  store  greens,  nebrie  cheese,  the  aforementioned  grubby  creatures,  and  sometimes  live  crawlies. Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food?:  see  above.

Living Room:

How does the character spend weekends?:  breaks  are  rare  and  far-between  for  the  scientist,  and  they're  nothing  grand  when  they  do  happen.  just  skekTek  with  the  books  it  knows  to  be  unvandilzed  by  the  scroll-keeper   (   luckily  that's  most  scientific  accounts   )   and  the  company  of  it's  beasitary.  to  tell  the  truth,  they  don't  exactly   ...   know  how  to  spend  time  casually.  skekTek's  brain  is  an  odd  machine  constantly  firing  on  all  cylinders,  and  they  have  no  patience  for  things  more   ...   fiddly.  if  it  doesn't  have  a  purpose,  there's  no  point  basically.  though  in  the  golden  age,  it  would  venture  out  of  the  lab  more  often  and  visist  ha'rar's  library.  and  if  skekTek  ever  got  a  true  break  it'd  probably,  realistically,  just  sleep  for  hours  and  hours  on  end. What do they do with friends?:  do  animals  kept  as  lab  rats  it  bonded  to  out  of  loneliness  and  frustration  with  the  others  count  as  friends,  and  does  idly  babbling  to  them  about  it's  projects  or  day  or  problems  count  as  spending  time  with  friends. What’s their favorite pastime?:  sitting  away  from  anyone  who  can  bother  them,  working  on  a  pet  project  that's  entirely  their  own,  no  demanding  emperor  or  sly  chamberlain.  just  skekTek.

Bathroom:

How does the character prepare in the morning?:  skekTek  awakes  usually  a  full  hour  before  the  greater  sun  rises   (  when  it  actually  sleeps  )   as  to  get  an  early  start  and  beat  any  of  it's  kin  to  the  spa,  as  skeksis  share  bathchambers  and  it  has  a  strong  dislike  for  bathing  —  let  alone  disrobing  —  in  another's  presence.  really  the  only  reason  it  bathes  is  just  because  the  grime  starts  to  feel  uncomfortable  after  a  while,  even  by  skekTek's  standards.

in  fact  bathing  is  a  strong  word  actually,  what  skekTek  does  is  more  akin  to  a  once-over  with  a  soapy  rag,  then  leaving  immediately  after.  it  may  share  the  hedonistic  streak  all  castle  skeksis  do,  but  has  no  time  to  soak  or  care  about  things  like  flower  petals  in  the  water  or  fancy  smells.  from  there  on,  it's  tidying  up  yesterday's  mess  and  making  sure  everything  in  the  workstation  is  in  it's  proper  place  —  as  it  has  to  be  for  the  scientist  to  work  without  stress.  it's  a  very  simple  morning  routine  really,  especially  when  compared  to  the  others.

Do they sing in the shower?:  no.  and  if  it's  unlucky  enough  to  end  up  sharing  the  baths  with  another,  and  they  do  such  a  thing,  it'll  be  Miserable.  What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?:  sure  skekTek  has  an  ego  and  considered  itself  rather  handsome  in  it's  youth,  but  it  doesn't  value  beauty  the  same  way  other  courtiers  do  and  has  no  definition  of  self   -   care.  things  like  perfumes  or  make   -   up  would  eventually  end  up  masked  or  smeared  or  sent  running  by  the  heat  and  fumes  of  the  laboratory  anyways,  as  i  mentioned  above  skekTek  only  really  cares  about  things  if  it  considers  them  to  have  a  point.  in  it's  youth,  it  still  didn't  care  very  much  but  was  more  begrudgingly  obliged  to  allow  the  ornamentalist  to  gussy  up  those  blue  feathers  for  a  special  occasion.  the  maudras'  don't  like  smelling  chemicals  and  oil  at  meetings  or  dinners. How clean is this character?:  ^^^  nasty. Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials?:  ^^^^^^^^^^  is  dull,  scent   -   less  soap  a  bare  essential. 

Bedroom:

How do they sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines):  usually  it  just  falls  asleep  at  it's  desk  with  a  workbook  as  a  pillow,  but,  when  it  can  make  it  to  it's  chambers,  it  just  shambles  to  bed  grime  and  all  and  collapses.  it's  a  noisy  sleeper,  grunts  and  various  birdy  sounds,  and  sleeps  either  curled  in  on  itself  or  sprawled  every  which  way  —  limbs  and  tail  hanging  over  edges,  on  it's  belly,  on  it's  back,  sometimes  sagging  off  the  side  usually.  it's  a  light  sleeper  and  woken  easily.  on  that  note,  it's  also  rather  restless  and  tossed  and  turns.  in  it's  younger  days,  when  trying  to  properly  sleep,  it  would  just  stare  at  the  ceiling  for  hours  before  eventually  hauling  itself  up  to  go  to  the  lab. What are their pajamas like?:  again,  either  falls  asleep  in  it's  regular  robes,  or  a  simple  silk  nightgown;  similar  to  the  emperor's  but  not  as  decorative.  there's  a  few  sewn  designs  and  frills  here  and  there,  but  there  all  victim  to  skekTek's  fidgeting  habit,  plucked  at  excessively.  What do they dream about usually?:  like  all  skeksis  at  the  castle  save  for  the  emperor,  skekTek  is  incapable  of  dreaming, How neat/tidy are they?:  organized  clutter.  to  anyone  else,  it's  messy  and  roundabout,  to  skekTek  everything  is  order  and  if  you  mess  it  up  they'll  stress  out. How affectionate are they?:  in  the  negatives.  loathes  giving  it,  gets  uncomfortable  upon  receiving,  and  generally  doesn't  like  thinking  about  it.  the  closest  it's  gotten  to  it  is  petting  sidetic's  head  through  the  bars,  as  it's  the  one  lab  animal  not  scared  of  them.

Attic:

What is the character afraid of?:  hm.

the  emperor,  losing  worth,  being  thrown  away  by  the  emperor,  anything  happening  to  it's  good  eye,  being  forgotten   ...   it's  also  developed  a  form  of  claustrophobia  and  can't  handle  not  being  able  to  move  it's  head  or  having  it's  face  covered. 

How do they deal with bad memories?:  it  doesn't.  it  internalizes,  stews  in  them  and  becomes  more  and  more  angry  over  it  all  until  inevitably  lashing  out  at  the  world.  or  it  just  represses  them. What is this character’s role in a horror movie?:  the  monster. How do they hide their secrets?:  very  well,  though  the  emperor  and  chamberlain  see  through  it  clearly.