#like i was just pondering what to put my TWO WHOLE BRIDESMAIDS in and he was like “i thought we weren't having a wedding party!”

[apathyandmischief]

Forget throwing my phone at this point, straight men make me wanna throw my whole ass self into a lake

[bbysamu]

Love Sometimes On A Thursday Night | KUROO Tetsuro

featuring: husband!Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

the one in which Kuroo Tetsuro learns love can come in the form of at home spa nights and 24k gold face masks

MAIN MASTERLIST | DOMESTIC BLISS MLIST

Kuroo Tetsuro texted as soon as the man walked through those double glass doors.

“baby, he’s back.”

The “he” in question was no doubt the same one from the marketing department. The marketing lead with the greasy, slicked back hair and a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. The same one who demands Kuroo stay overtime to finish whatever project the marketing team is working on with the promotion team.

“don’t worry, try to get someone else to stay this time. you already stayed late last week. just forty more minutes and you’re free!”

Kuroo groans as he locks his phone screen. forty minutes turned into an hour and forty-minutes because his colleagues had scrambled to their feet, muttering quick “goodbyes” and was out the door before Kuroo realized he was the only one left in the office.

At exactly 8:45 PM, Kuroo trudges through the door and plops down comfortably on top of you, earning himself an, “excuse me, but hello to you too.”

“I miss you” was his muffled reply.

After three years of dating and two years of marriage, you’ve learned that despite his corny jokes and sometimes cheesy ways, Kuroo likes his words straight to the point. there was no need for the “hi and hellos”. he missed you at work today so that was to be the first thing he tells you.

he sighs against the touch of your fingers mindlessly running through his hair. seven years after high school and his hair still the same, messy bed-head aesthetic.

“tough day, huh? did you end up getting stuck with him?”

he nods, sighing again as he relives the memory of forced smiles and nods of agreements until the marketing lead let him go.

“wanna tell me about it?”

“you know I do. but we need to do that thing first. it’s Thursday.”

“oh shoot, it is a Thursday. come on, babe.”

Kuroo gasps, “don’t tell me. you forgot?!”

You smile at his antics, “I didn’t forget per say, I just don’t remember.”

Your husband rolls his eyes, fighting the smile on his face as he pushes himself off of you and helps you to your feet. his hands finds its way to your waist, the two of you making your way to the bathroom.

Kuroo makes himself comfortable on the marbled top, leaning back against the mirror, as you inched closer, examining his face.

“sir, what exactly are you looking for?”

He grins. Even after two years of marriage, this game of pretend was still entertaining.

“ma’am, I've been feeling extra dry lately, especially in my t-zone area. do you have any suggestions or remedy?”

You ponder and Kuroo could see the thoughts running through that pretty little head of yours. He couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out, fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt, trying to pull you in closer to him.

“sir, this is not appropriate. I have a husband you know?”

“is your husband as handsome as me?”

“nah, he’s more handsome cause his forehead doesn’t look like a whole desert.”

Kuroo pouts, “no fair, y/n! I share with you my insecurity and you just throw ‘em back in my face. tell me again, why did I marry you?”

“my charms,” you retort, not missing a beat as you scrummage through the piles of face masks, moisturizers, serums, and eye creams, “and because I have these.” you wave the face masks in front of him.

“24k gold face masks huh? we feeling fancy tonight!”

you rolls your eyes as he hops off from the counter and opens the drawer, pulling out the matching headbands, one blue, one pink completed with the inscriptions “hers” and “his”. it was a housewarming gift from one of your bridesmaid. you remember the excitement on her face as she handed you the purple-wrapped box, the proud look in her eyes as she explained, “pink for y/n and blue for Tetsuro.”

he turns to you, handing you the blue one as he slips on the pink one. Kuroo insists on using the pink headband with “hers” on it, because he’s yours. And because you’re his (the ring on your finger is proof) you wear the blue one.

“it’s cold!” he grimaces, but tries his best not to move as you carefully line up the sheet to his face.

“alright, my turn.” you turn to him as he picks up the second sheet from the pack.

“how do I look?” he questions.

“I think you look more handsome with half your face covered up.”

Kuroo laughs then pinches your cheeks, “you think you’re so funny, huh?”

“ouch, not so hard!” he laughs again when you rub your face.

“come on, baby, turn towards me and close your eyes.”

you do and instead of the cold sensation of the sheet, you feel his lips on yours. part of you wanted to pull away because its 9:34 pm and you'd both have to be up by at least 6:30 am tomorrow for work. but you stay when you feel the urgency in his touch as your fingers weave through his messy locks.

he pulls away first and you laugh at how crooked his mask had become. his laughter intertwines with yours once he catches glimpse in the mirror and nimble fingers quickly put it back in place.

“alright, princess, your turn, for real now.” he helps you put on your gold sheet and doesn’t let go of your hand as the two of you collapse back onto the sofa.

“wanna tell me about the mean manager now?” you ask, your hand reassuringly squeezing his.

Kuroo opens his eyes and surveys the room. your wedding picture hung in the center of the wall, millions other pictures of the two of you surrounding it. he smiles when he spots his favorite one, the one taken by Yaku two Decembers ago on on a ski-trip with the rest of your friends. you were asleep on his shoulder, mouth slightly open, and Kuroo was smiling, just a little, as he looked down at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever look at for the rest of his life (and as your husband often likes to remind you, you are). Yaku laughed and teased him for being a simp when he airdropped Kuroo the photo. Kuroo laughed along and thought “so this is what love looks like”.

With Jhene Aiko quietly playing in the background, your legs draped over his, Kuroo no longer wanted to talk about the manager, he’d rather you hear about all the happier details of his day, like how he absolutely destroyed the lunch box you had prepared for him, down to the very last rice and how his boss had hinted at a potential promotion. he also wanted to hear about your day, how was your commute, did you learn anything new from that podcast you always listen to?

“Tetsu?”

Kuroo realizes he had spaced out and he smiles, “nah, that man isn’t worth talking about. baby, how was your day? what’d you eat for lunch?”

“you sure?” and he nods encouragingly, smiling as you begin to launch into a detailed rundown of your day.

“so Jen and I went to the new hot dog place around the corner, you know the one I've always wanted to try. it was beautiful, I've never seen a hot dog place decorated so nicely...”

Kuroo realizes while love is sometimes face masks on a Thursday night, love for him will always be you.

stay fetch! xoxo

join my TAGLIST !

[teamhook]

Happy Birthday Fic:: Always, Always a Bridesmaid

Hello all! Okay, before I go on. Please, don't give me (this post) that look. I know, I know I have multiple WIPs going but I had to add one more to the list. It's out of love. This story is for @ultraluckycatnd because she is the sweetest thing ever. She Betas for me and that is no easy job. She is quick to volunteer to help whenever  anyone needs help.

I humbly gift her with this story. It's one of her fave movies and it's her birthday so yes I'm adding a WIP for her.

Happy Birthday!! Hope you like your present.

Thanks to @demisexualemmaswan , @snowbellewells​ for Beta services and @veryverynotgoodwrites​ ,  @the-darkdragonfly​ for looking this over when I was feeling unsure.

Killian Jones, the New York Journal's most popular wedding announcement writer, was the world's biggest cynic when it came to love. That is, until he met Emma Swan, the perpetual bridesmaid. Will their different views on weddings cause them to lose out on what's in front of them, or can they open themselves up to the possibility of love?

FFN

AO3

Emma Swan grew up loved but that wasn't always the case. As a baby, she was found on the side of the road wrapped in a blanket with her name on it. She was taken to Child Protective Services and soon after was adopted by the Swans, a family unable to have children of their own. Three years later a miracle happened in the shape of a baby of their own, and they found themselves overwhelmed and decided to return Emma.

Emma was soon after adopted by Midas Goldman and his beloved wife Rosalind. They fell in love with precocious Emma. A few years after finding Emma the stork paid them a visit in the form of a little girl Kathryn. Happiness filled the Goldman household until the unexpected loss of the matron of the family saddened the home.

Emma's adoptive family had embraced her as one of them easily. Not long after her adoptive mother Rosalind passed away. Emma took it upon herself to be strong and help her father care for her younger sister Kathryn. Seeing her father's broken heart over his late wife's death and his trouble functioning after her loss, Emma took it upon herself to care for her family.

Emma had loved weddings since the very first wedding she had attended. It had been a beautiful day at the old church with an enchanting garden. It was the first family outing after the loss of Rosalind. The cathedral was full of close friends and family. It was the day a distant cousin's nuptials were to take place. After helping her cousin fix an unfortunate accident with her dress Emma was asked to carry the wedding gown train, and that moment she realized she had helped someone on the most important day of their life. That was when she fell in love with weddings. The very idea of finding one's happy ending and pledging to be with them forever was perfect in her eyes. She felt it was her calling to help the ones she loved to find their happy endings.

Emma stood in front of a long mirror wearing a beautiful wedding dress. She twirled and smiled wide at the reflection staring back at her.

"Oh my god, Emma you look so beautiful!" Johanna, the seamstress, said while putting the finishing touches on the dress.

"The bride is on the phone for you, Emma."

"Oh, thank you. Hello, Mary Margaret. Yes, they hemmed the dress and it's done. We're lucky we are the same size. I'll be on my way. Don't worry about anything. It's your day." Emma turned to Johanna and her assistant, and said with a smile. "Thank you."

Emma rushed out of the bridal shop to get to the church.

"Ems, wait for me," Ruby said as she caught up with Emma.

Emma smiled at her friend. "Hey, Ruby. Come on before MM freaks out."

"I know, I know." Ruby grinned wolfishly. "Ems, before we get in there I get dibs on the hottest groomsman."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Can't you keep it in your pants, just for once?"

"Nope, why else would I agree to wear this ridiculous dress, but to have someone take it off with his teeth?"

"It's not that bad, Ruby," Emma scoffed.

"I know, I know. You can shorten them and wear them again." Ruby put an arm around Emma's shoulder and giggled as they entered the church.

Mary Margaret stood in front of the mirror wearing her princess-like dress. She was about to marry her Prince Charming in a couple of minutes and everything was perfect thanks to her maid of honor and close friend: her savior, Emma.

Lamentably, the day was going to be a long one for Emma. Her friends had decided to get married on the same day. Helping them both have their perfect wedding and thanks to her inability to say no, she would have to split her time between MM's wedding and Jasmine's.

During MM's nuptials, Emma kept glancing down to check the time on her watch. She had to leave soon if she wanted to make it to Jasmine's wedding ceremony on time. She put on her biggest smile and hoped she would make it on time. The moment the ceremony ended, she ran out of the door. She didn't even notice that she had caught the attention of one of the guests.

In an effort to make her night easier she caught a taxi outside and made a deal with him: $300 flat for the whole night: but with one stipulation no peeking or she deducts. The taxi driver quickly accepts but is unable to control himself and loses $20 within five minutes of agreeing to the deal.

Unfortunately, her efforts didn't go unnoticed by the guest staring at the back of the cab, who got an eyeful and smirked appreciatively at the sight.

After fulfilling her duties at Jasmine and Al's wedding she returned to MM and David's reception. As the night reached its inevitable end, Emma was among the rest of the single ladies as they lined up for the bouquet toss. MM noticed Emma's place and the forever romantic bride decided to throw the bouquet to her bridesmaid savior.

Emma was pushed out of the way by an overly excited redheaded relative in hopes to catch the bouquet for herself. Emma hit her head as she was falling, lost consciousness, and fell to the floor. The woman who had pushed her triumphantly jumped up and down with her trophy in hand.

Countless people had rushed to Emma's prone body on the floor but one man ushered people away. "Everybody please calm down, give the lass some room to breathe." The bride and groom caught his eye as Emma started moving. "The lass is alright, she's coming to. Someone get me some water."

Mary Margaret and David walked away to get him some water for Emma.

"Love, do you know your name?" The stranger asked.

Emma groggily opened her eyes. "My name is Emma. Are you a doctor?"

"Emma, I'm afraid not. My name is Killian Jones." Killian turned to the crowd, "She's fine. It was just a little bump on the head." He smiled at her and gently helped her to her feet.

She groaned as she stumbled a bit. He quickly put his hand on her lower back to help give her some support.

"Love, perhaps it's time to get a taxi and get you home."

Emma stiffened for a second but realized the night had caught up with her but agreed.

They walked outside and Killian was about to hail a cab when her cabbie for the night got out and went to open the door for them. Emma walked towards her cab. Killian didn't hesitate and follows her lead. Once inside the cab, Emma gave the driver her address. Killian noticed that there was another dress and a pair of shoes. He smirked, "Ah, yes. How could I forget such a sight? I loved your thong by the way. Very sexy," he added with a wink.

Emma looked at him confused.

"I saw you changing gowns earlier." He waggled his eyebrows. "The back window of the taxi gave away quite the view."

Emma rolled her eyes and turned away to hide her blush. She looked out the window as they passed the countless buildings.

Killian leaned towards Emma, "Tell me love, why two weddings in one day, isn't one bad enough?"

Emma sighed, "Isn't it obvious? I love weddings and they're both really good friends. I couldn't say no."

"Ah, let me guess you love the forced merriment? Or is it perhaps the horrid music or is it the delectable food?" He said mockingly.

Emma stared him down. "Oh look at that! What a surprise, a man who doesn't believe in marriage. Oh, goodie what a treat."

He rolled his eyes, "Love is patient. Love is kind.

Love is slowly losing your mind."

"What is it you do again?" Emma asked with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled. "I'm a writer, love."

The cab came to a sudden stop.

She turned to him gasping, "Oh look at that, that's my building. Thanks for the help, bye now!" She rushed to grab her things and get out of the cab.

Killian followed her out and was about to pull out his wallet when Emma stopped him, "No, I got it." She leaned over to hand the cab driver his fare for the night and whispered with a scolding tone, "You know what you did."

Killian doesn't think twice to follow her.

Emma stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh no, what are you doing?"

"I'm escorting you home, it's what a gentleman does." Killian smiled.

Emma rolled her eyes. "So now you're a gentleman. I don't need you to escort me home. I'm fine." She hurried back to the cab as he was about to drive away, "Wait, he is coming back, one second." She smiled and walked back to where Killian was waiting. "He is waiting for you."

Killian looked back to the cab and turned back to see her putting more distance between them. He sighed in defeat walking to the cab and yelled, "Love, will you be at any weddings next week?" There was no answer.

"Sir, are you in or out?" the cab driver yelled out.

Killian took one last glance in the direction Emma had disappeared and climbed aboard the cab.

Killian sighed as they took off. His eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a notebook underneath the seat. He pulled it out and pondered asking the driver to go back. A wide smile broke out on his face.

The next day Emma woke up refreshed. She had so much fun at both weddings, but what she was really excited about was the Sunday newspaper. She was looking for something specific, the wedding announcements in the Commitment section. She loved the way James Rogers, the writer spun the stories. His wedding write-ups/articles have always been her favorite.

Monday morning, Emma was waiting for Ruby outside of their work. Ruby strutted towards her wearing a man's shirt and pants smirking.

Emma studied her friend and shook her head in disapproval.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "What? I wasn't going to wear my bridesmaid dress to work. I improvised." She winked at Emma.

Emma laughed, "You must be so proud! The two-day walk of shame outfit."

"Alright, Ems, just because you refuse to have some fun doesn't mean we all have to."

Emma rolled her eyes. She was looking for more than just a roll in the hay.

Killian was walking down the busy New York street to work with a little pep in his walk. His friend Victor was waiting for him with a cup of coffee.

Killian smiled widely. "Good morning, mate. What a lovely day!"

Victor stared at him. "Jones, did you get lucky?"

Killian took a sip of his offered drink. "Not in the way you think. I have an idea for a story that will get me out of writing stuff like 'The bride wore a gown that sparkled like the groom's eyes…'"

"Seriously? I still can't believe you are not getting laid. Damn it, Killian. Commitments is the gold standard of wedding announcements. Brides would do just about anything to get in there. If you know what I mean."

Killian scrunched his face. "Victor, do you have an idea what you're saying?"

Victor Whale was a new kind of dog. He smiled wickedly at Killian. "Think about it. They won't call you. They won't bother you. They will pretend they never even met you.

You can't beat that."

"It doesn't matter. This my friend." Killian took out a beat-up planner. "This is my ticket out of Commitments."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Cora likes you where you are," Victor mocked.

"Go away, you prat." Killian ushered Victor away.

Emma was at her job looking frantically for her planner. She walked to Ruby's office. "Hey, did I leave my planner here?"

Ruby quirked a brow. "I haven't seen it. Ems, don't worry it will show up."

Emma bit her bottom lip. "I hope so."

Ruby bumped Emma's shoulder, "Hey, what happened to you at the wedding? Where did you disappear to? Wait did you meet someone? Please tell me you got lucky." Ruby jumped up and down in excitement.

"No, nothing like that. I was around," Emma muttered, biting her lower lip distractedly. She needed to find her Filofax.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot, what a ridiculous thought." Ruby rolled her eyes.

Emma scoffed, "Alright, I'm going to get the catalog pages for Graham from production."

Ruby sighed.

Killian knocked on his boss's door. "Cora, I have the perfect idea for a story." He gave her his most charming smile.

Cora stared him down. "Your pretty face gets you a lot but not wasting my time. Out with it, what is this great idea?" she asked, unamused.

"I swear you will love it." He handed her the planner. "This woman has been in seven weddings-"

"So?" She rolled her eyes as she thumbed through the planner.

"That's seven weddings just this year. She was in two on Saturday alone," Killian insisted.

Killian could tell his boss was still not sold on the idea. "But it will not be just about her. I will offer an insightful look at how the wedding industry has altered what should be a rite of passage into nothing more than a golden egg. In a fun upbeat cheerful way."

He sighed. "Cora, I'm dying in Commitments. I cannot write another sentence about love at first sight. I want to write a real story. I will quit if you don't start giving me feature stories."

"That's what you're good at. Killian, it's not my fault you have a silver tongue."

"One chance. That's all I want. If you don't like it, I will go back to Commitments for the rest of my life with a big smile on my devilishly handsome face."

"Deal." She smiled.

Emma was still looking for her planner like a madwoman. She couldn't find it anywhere. If she lost it... she shuddered at the thought.

Ruby peeked inside Emma's office. "Are you still looking for your planner?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed. "I'm sure it's somewhere. So do you think Graham will like these photos for the fall catalog?"

Ruby sighs dramatically, "Oh yes, Graham is going to love them and they will cause him to call you into his office to make sweet love to you all day long."

Emma glared at her friend. "Ruby, shhh!"

"Emma, please tell me that crush is not the reason you overwork yourself? If he hasn't noticed how amazing you are by now I don't know if ever will."

Emma turned away from her friend, she breathed as she contemplated Ruby's words.

"I have flowers for Emma Swan," A delivery guy spoke up.

Emma and Ruby's eyes met.

"That's me," Emma said.

The guy handed the flowers to Emma and she signed for them.

Emma's smile was giddy as she searched for a card. "There's no card."

"Wow, this is great. I spent the weekend in bed with a guy and you're the one who gets flowers. Nice," Ruby says playfully. "Ems, you don't really think they're from your dream guy. Do you?"

"Rubes, shhh," Emma scolded her, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to the conversation.

"Everyone knows except for Graham," Ruby said, annoyed.

Emma blinks rapidly as she blushes and is then attacked by a beautiful husky coming running in barking its excitement.

Emma hugged him as he slobbered all over her face. "Hi boy, I missed you too."

"Hunter, stop slobbering all over Emma," a voice came from behind.

Emma turned around to see her boss standing there with a warm smile on his face.

"Hey, so how was the climb?" Emma asked as she scratched behind Hunter's ears.

"It was good. I beat my old record," h said as he got closer.

"Wow! Isn't that the eighth time you climbed Mount Whitney?" she marveled.

He laughed, "How do you remember that?" He shook his head. "So what do we have for today?"

"Oh, let's see. We got these from marketing but they don't seem right."

He grinned. "I agree, they look-" He turned to Emma. "too put together."

"Like they're models," they said at the same time.

Emma added, "Oh, before I forget. The 92nd Street Y called to confirm that you'll be attending their benefit."

He nodded. "Will I need to make a speech?"

"Yeah, a few words about ecologically responsible business practices. Maybe something light and fun. I guess I will need a date for that. The only thing in my life you don't need to take care of. I don't know what I would do without you. Who would finish my sentences?"

Ruby was gagging behind them.

Emma glared at Ruby.

Graham entered his office only to exit right out. "Emma, did you leave me a breakfast burrito?"

Emma grinned. "I thought you would be hungry."

"Thank you, that's why I love you," he said as he reentered his office.

Emma whispered, "I love you too."

Ruby heard her friend's soft voice because of her wolf-like hearing, rolled her eyes and walked to Emma, and slapped her.

"Ouch, Ruby," Emma hissed. "I guess, I needed it."

"You think? Emma, do something about it. Just march in there and tell him how you feel," Ruby said, with a raised brow.

Emma just stared at her friend and ignored her suggestion. "I have a lot of work to do."

As everyone was leaving for the day, another soon to be bride, thanked Emma for her help planning her wedding.

"Okay, everybody. I hope to see you all at my engagement party tonight," Tamara said as she left the room.

Emma met Ruby at the front doors of the building to leave.

Ruby nudged Emma on the shoulder. "Hey, do you wanna come over to my place before the party? The guys from shipping are coming over my place for a drink and to have some fun."

Emma groaned, "I can't Ruby, I'm picking up Kathryn from the airport."

"Ems, I'm sorry but aren't you aware of the services taxis provide?"

"She's my baby sister and I have no problem picking her up. She needs me." Emma said with a smile on her face.

"Ems, she is an adult. I get that but she could get a ride to your place. You need to have some fun," Ruby insisted.

"Rubes, I'll be at the party. See you there," Emma said as she walked away.

tagging:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera  @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713   @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes  @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

[cali-holland]

Family Getaways- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by anon: hi! i love your writing so much 💗 if it’s not a big deal, could you please write a oneshot where tom proposes to the reader while on vacation with both of their families, fast forward to the wedding and their vows to each other just has everyone crying cause it’s so sweet?

Prompt: A joint family vacation in California leads to you and Tom seeking your own romantic getaway.

Word Count: 1600

Inspired by: From this Moment On by Shania Twain & the movie The Vow

A/N: So yeah I haven’t actually been to legit weddings, so my bad if I messed up. Also, I’m Californian and I’ve never been to Lake Tahoe so idk why I chose that...

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist  

*gif is not mine*

~~~

“You know, for how many times we’ve been to California, we’ve never been up here.” You pondered with a laugh as you and Tom stepped into your hotel room.

“I know, which is why I suggested it.” He replied, a smug smile on his face, pleased with his decision. The two of you set your luggage down at the foot of the bed and you wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“And to think we could’ve been on a beach in the Bahamas.” You teased.

“Hey, now,” Tom pouted, “Lake Tahoe is supposed to be incredibly romantic.”

“Oh really,” You smirked. He leaned down to kiss you, but stopped when a loud knock sounded from your door.

“Tom, can I use your bathroom? Harry’s blowing up ours, and I just really got to piss.” Harrison asked with a sense of urgency. 

“So romantic.” You laughed as Tom sighed, letting go of you to open the door for his friend. Leave it to Harrison (and Harry) to ruin the moment and bring you two back to reality.

“Thanks.” Haz said, immediately ducking into the en suite bathroom.

Ever since your family moved next door to the Hollands and you all became close friends, it was a tradition to take a joint family vacation (plus Harrison) all together at least once a year. And for the past three years, you and Tom had attempted to use this as your own personal romantic getaway, but your families made sure there was no escaping them- and they also made sure that you two didn’t share a room. That was, until this year at least, and you were not going to complain. Still, the large holiday was always one that you looked forward to. Normally, you’d all go to a resort on the beach or have some sort of nice private beach house, but this year Tom had suggested Lake Tahoe in California of all places; though it wasn’t your typical family vacation, you still saw the appeal of the destination.

You couldn’t really enjoy your alone time with Tom- once Haz had left, it was already time to reconvene with your families in the hotel lobby for dinner. Choosing the steakhouse across the street, all of you (you, the Holland clan, Harrison, your younger sister, and your parents) made your way over there and somehow managed to get a table rather quickly. Tom sat beside you and instantly brought your chair closer to him so that he could put his arm around the back of your chair.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Your mom asked.

“We haven’t even been here three hours yet.” You laughed.

“Skiing?” Sam suggested.

“Snowboarding!” Tom and Harrison cheered simultaneously. Everyone broke off into their own conversations, and Tom turned to you.

“What do you think about going on one of those hot air balloon rides?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Now, that sounds romantic.” You teased.

“And a good way to escape all of them.” Tom laughed, nodding back at your families.

“I also want to do some shopping in some of the boutiques.” You said and he jokingly frowned.

“That doesn’t sound romantic.”

“It doesn’t have to be with you.” You joked, making him shake his head.

“No, no, you’re not escaping me for the next week.” He leaned in further to kiss you.

“Hey, hey, not at the dinner table!” Harry called out as Paddy started to fake gage.

“Whatever.” Tom rolled his eyes at his brothers, shifting back into his seat but still keeping his arm around your chair.

It wasn’t until the third day on your vacation that you and Tom finally managed to break away from your families and take your hot air balloon ride together. After a few days of shopping, snowboarding, hiking, the works, you and Tom were due for your romantic getaway. The balloon lifted off the ground and you held tightly onto Tom’s hand, starting to wonder if maybe taking a relatively unstable floating device over Lake Tahoe was a good idea. Once it was steady in the air, you leaned on the edge of the basket in awe of the view.

“Damn, I’m so good at these ideas.” Tom said proudly, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“This is incredible.” You smiled, turning to kiss him. “You’re incredible.”

“Mm, I know.” He teased, “You’re pretty incredible, too.”

“Did you plan all this out?” You asked him, skeptically. You looked over at the small table in the balloon that held an assortment of fruits and cheeses, all things that Tom knew to be your favorite.

“What? You don’t think I could spontaneously suggest the perfect hot air balloon ride without any prior research into just how romantic it could be?”

“Considering romantic seems to be your favorite word on this holiday, I’d dare to say this wasn’t spontaneous.” You smirked, and he kissed you again.

“Just try the damn cheese.” Tom laughed. You turned to the table and helped yourself to some cheese blocks.

“Open up.” You said, holding up a cheese block for him. He opened up his mouth and you placed it on his tongue.

“Shit, that’s the good stuff.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, turning back to the table. You bit into a strawberry and went to turn back around to face Tom. You let out a small shriek,freezing, as he was down on one knee.

“Y/N,Y/L/N, you’re my best friend, and I love you more than anything in the world. You’re my soulmate, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” Tom asked with a hopeful smile on his face as he held out an open blue ring box, a beautiful diamond ring sitting in the center.

“You asshole,” You coughed, smiling and slapping his arm lightly. He laughed, confused by your reaction- he had definitely expected a ‘yes’. “I almost choked on that strawberry ‘cause of you.”

“So is that a-”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You smiled as he stood up to his full height. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

“Oh, shit, the ring.” Tom laughed, remembering he had to actually seal the deal. He carefully took it out of the box and slipped it onto your left ring finger.

“You totally planned this whole holiday around this.” You teased.

“I’ll never tell.” He shook his head as you pulled him in for another kiss.

A few hours later when you two met back up with your families, you could tell that they were all well aware of Tom’s intentions behind the hot air balloon ride, by the way everyone was eyeing you two so expectantly and faked surprise once you showed them the ring.

~~~

And just eight months later, it was the big day. Everything was set up perfectly in the small church near your homes in Kingston. You were more excited than nervous; your new life as an official Holland was just moments away from beginning.

Tom was waiting anxiously at the altar. His palms were a little sweaty and he was resisting the urge to mess with his hair like he always did when he was anxious. He was nearly shaking in anticipation as the music kicked on and his brothers and Harrison walked down the aisle with your sister and your bridesmaids- he was just one step closer to seeing you, his beautiful bride.

“You got this.” Harrison reassured him, from his position as best man. 

Tom nodded, and the music changed to an instrumental version of Lionel Richie and Diana Ross’ “Endless Love”. He let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding as you emerged from the back of the church with your father leading you down the aisle. You smiled at him, trying to refrain yourself from crying; meanwhile, Tom not so subtly wiped away the tears that had slipped.

As you stood in front of him, you handed your bouquet off to your sister, your maid of honor. Tom took your hands in his and the two of you turned to the officiant. The ceremony went on, but you couldn’t focus on much. You were too focused on the fact that you were standing next to your favorite person in the world, about to marry him. When the time for the vows came, you turned back to fully face Tom.

“Y/N,” He started, smiling softly at you and you could still see the tears in his eyes. “I vow to always be there for you, to hold you whenever life gets hard, to help you throughout life, to always make you smile. From this moment on, I vow to love you for the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You began, tears beginning to well up in your own eyes. “I vow to love you for the rest of my life, with every beat of my heart; I vow to always care for you, to always support you, and to always give you anything and everything you need. I vow to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.”

“And, now the rings.” The officiant announced and Harrison stepped up, handing over the rings to the two of you. You and Tom went through the “I Do”s and the exchanging of rings.

“You may kiss the bride.”

At the official words, Tom pulled you in for a passionate first kiss as husband and wife.

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life Sequel (8/10) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1912 Summary: On this special day, Marinette and Adrien celebrate Alya and Nino along with a bunch of their friends and family with a nice video. Author’s Note: Ahhh this was fun. Sorry for such a long hiatus! School and writer's block has been killing me, but we're finishing off strong! Also, this is about Alya and Nino's wedding. I tried to stick to the research I found on French wedding traditions, but I'm sure I westernized some of it so I tried to leave out ~too many~ details about the actual wedding. 

Prev / Next / Masterlist

Alya and Nino’s Big Day

---

"Hi! I'm Marinette!" Marinette held her camera in front of her, and there was chaos all around the room. "I'm hoping you can hear me over all the chatter and excited squeals, but there's a good reason for them!" Marinette said and turned the camera to show her best girl-friends and some of Alya's family. "It's Alya's wedding day!" She shouted, to which all the other girls screamed in excitement.

She turned the camera back around to her face, and Alya rushed over to stand by her with a big smile on her face. "And Alya asked me to vlog it for all our fans, but mostly for herself to have in the future. I even equipped Adrien with his own camera to record the boys in their room."

"It's bright and early here in Paris in the Le Grand Paris Hotel, thanks to Chloé and her dad for letting us throw our wedding here!" Alya said. "Before we start getting ready, I think we should show off the whole bridal party," Alya suggested.

Around the room, girls were doing their hair and chatting, excited to all be back together and celebrating such a fun and important event. "Obviously, Mari is here and is my right-hand. I think American's call it maid-of-honor, and I think that's close enough to what she is," Alya tried to explain. There was, for good reason, a lot of French-speaking going on in this video, but also a good amount of English to make things easier for her viewers. However, Marinette didn't mind making the captions. Alya started to lead her around the room to make sure everyone had a moment to shine on the video. And she even asked Adrien to do the same for the boys and Nino, since she was sure Nino would probably forget.

Alya and Nino decided they wanted to have bridesmaids and groomsmen at their wedding, even if tradition went against that, but they really wanted to feature their friends. Not all the girls in the room were bridesmaids; she just wanted to celebrate with all her friends even if they aren't in the wedding entirely. They can still have a party!

Alya showed off her three sisters and mother and Nino's mother first, then started to get into her friends. She had two friends from work and University that she's known for a few years now, along with a ton of her friends from school.

Rose, Juleka, Alix, Myléne, and Sabrina got a few seconds to talk each, and they also weren't in the wedding, but were so excited to be attending and celebrating with her. They just enjoyed seeing Alya and getting ready for her big day with her, too.

After the events of Hawkmoth, Chloé and Alya got a lot closer, and Alya was happy to have Chloé with her on her wedding day. Every so often, they fight crime together, but they've kept up a friendship between Alya, Chloé, and Marinette that no one expected to go as far as it had. Especially since Alya gets to write articles and interview Chloé sometimes depending on what her career takes her to next. Marinette has even designed some exclusive outfits for her! And Chloé was so excited about the wedding she let Alya and Nino throw it at The Hotel at a pretty low price. Hell, even their Kwamis were out and talking to each other in the closet to celebrate.

After showing off all her friends, Alya pulled the camera back to her. "Now we have to get ready for the ceremony. I'm sure I'll steal the camera and take some b-roll, or I'll make Marinette take some," She promised. "And I told Marinette she could record at the ceremony a bit with a tri-pod, since she'll be standing next to me," Alya declared. "Or maybe I can give a camera to another person," She pondered, and started to walk away to her mother calling her over.

Marinette laughed a bit and signed off from this segment. "There will be a lot of footage; she has no need to worry," Marinette said, then Alya called for her. "I am being summoned. Here's where Adrien's footage should come in, then we'll see you at the ceremony!" Marinette said, and ended her recording for now.

For the boys, it was a bit more chaotic in their room. Adrien was trying to get some videos, but Nino was freaking out about his shoes. He was sure he was going to lose something, and when he first woke up, he thought his phone was missing. It was on the floor. Then it turned to him losing his jacket, which was just behind another almost identical jacket, and now it was his shoes. Adrien knew they would show up in a few minutes, but Nino was super nervous (for a good reason), and it was apparent his nervousness was hiding in losing some items.

Adrien was able to distract Nino for a few minutes for him to talk about the special day, then Adrien moved into showing off all their friends. Nino's brother and dad, Alya's dad, and their friends from school. Ivan, Kim, and Max said some nice things about Nino and Alya, and even Luka was there to celebrate with them.

As Adrien was talking to the group, Nino was in the background that he found his shoes. "What do you guys think he's going to lose next?" Adrien asked them, and they all agreed that it would be his tie.

They were right, and Adrien was back to trying to calm Nino down and that he had checked over everything hundreds of times, so how would Nino have lost things? Even Adrien and both Nino and Alya's dads double-checked everything for Nino, but he was still convinced he'd mess something up. Adrien ended his segment of the video pretty quickly because he needed to deal with calming Nino down and getting ready, but everyone got to talk to the camera at least a little bit.

---

For the record, Nino ended up not losing anything besides his mind when he saw Alya standing in front of him. Marinette and Adrien stood beside Alya and Nino, along with their siblings, as the ceremony went on. One of the cameras was set up on a tripod to catch a wide-angle, and the other was given to another friend to get some close-ups.

Alya and Nino forewent some traditions, but kept a lot of them, too. She had a grand entrance, but they all got ready at the hotel to make it easy. They also really wanted to have their best friends and siblings standing with them just to make things extra special. They had all their friends and family for the ceremony, and it was a pretty big wedding.

It had been such a long time coming for them to get married; they wanted to go all out. Alya and Nino live such busy lives; they deserve the big wedding and big party. And everyone was excited to see them get married after being engaged for so many years, but it was all worth it in the end.

A few hours after the ceremony, it was time for the party—lots of dancing, a big meal, and delicious desserts catered by Sabine and Tom. Nino put together some music for the party, though they also hired one of his DJ friends to round it all out so Nino wasn't constantly focusing on the music, and one of Alya's journalist friends was the photographer they hired. In addition to Marinette's video, there would be tons of photos to remember the day.

Alya made sure to talk to everyone there, thanking them for coming and catching up with people. Sam with Nino, but Alya was a bit more on top of it.

"This is perfect for them," Marinette said to Adrien as they got away from the crowd.

"They really deserve it," Adrien responded, so happy and so proud of his friends. "You should have seen how stressed Nino was this morning. I wasn't able to take much video because of it."

Marinette laughed. "Alya said he would be stressing over a lot of little things. But that's okay, as long as you got some, I think they'll be happy."

Before either of them could continue the conversation, they were cut off by a few of their friends coming over for a chat. They talked about the wedding and why no one has seen Adrien recently; he's been a bit busy rebranding his company.

As Marinette and Adrien mingled around, they ran into another familiar face. "When is your wedding?" Jagged Stone asked as he spotted the two. Marinette was both a bit surprised and yet not surprised that he was there; Nino and he developed a good friendship after going on tour together a few times.

"Jagged, you can't just ask that," Penny scolded.

"Oh, yes, I can," He said. "When's the wedding?"

Marinette shook her head at him. "We're a bit busy with our careers right now. And we like what we've got; we're not in a rush," Marinette explained.

"But don't worry, you'll be the first person we send an invite to," Adrien promised.

"I better be!" Jagged joked.

Marinette looked between Jagged and Penny. "Did you guys get your invitation to the Emilie's fashion show? I was going to follow up, but like I said, we've been super busy."

"We did! We're clearing my schedule to make sure I can be here for it, but we definitely will be," Jagged declared. "Just got a few things to move around."

"Great! We're excited for it, though a bit nervous," Adrien told him.

Jagged brushed off his nervousness and reminded him that he had no reason to be nervous; this fashion show was only going to make things better. It might've calmed Adrien down for a few minutes, but he was still stressing out.

After Jagged made his way out of the conversation to go talk to some other people, Marinette pulled her camera out to get some shots of the whole crowd. She got almost everyone to give Alya and Nino a small, few seconds, message each to put at the end of the video to make sure that Alya and Nino would see how excited everyone was for them.

Finally, to end out the video, she managed to catch Alya and Nino in a moment of peace. "Anything you would like to add to your video?" Marinette asked them.

"Yes," Alya said. "I know I said it earlier, but I'm so glad we've stuck together after all these years and all the ups and downs. It's been so worth it, and now it's going to be for the rest of our lives," Alya said and kissed Nino before he could respond to it.

Once they released, Nino turned back to the camera. "I totally agree. With us being so busy, it's been a little hard on our relationship, but I'm glad we've pushed through. I love you!" Nino ended it.

Marinette had both of them wave to the video, and it faded out of them talking to a video of them slow dancing in the middle of the room with a song Nino made for Alya. It was a perfect day for them, and all their friends were there to celebrate, and now it was saved forever in a video.

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries  @toodaloo-kangaroo

[incoherentbabblings]

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (7/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

“Hey…” Tim said, still lying on the floor.

“Dude!” Conner’s voice came through, exuberant. “Bart you were right! He did answer!”

Bart’s high-pitched giggle ran straight through Tim’s bones. It cut off abruptly as he processed Conner’s incredulity.

“Why do you guys always think my plans are bad?”

“Shush.” Cassie’s voice also drifted in. Tim must have been on speakerphone. “Tim… what is going on? Like… is this for real?”

“No way.” Said Conner. “You would have told us. It’s gotta be fake. Weird fake, but fake.”

“…It’s not fake.”

“Pardon?” Bart asked, being awfully polite. “Why didn’t you keep us in the loop? Or are you channeling Batman this month?”

“It had to be real. Like super real. No heroes, no nothing.”

“Bullshit, Tim.” Conner’s tone was fond, but a little exasperated. “Kara’s been on my ass about it too. Some of us have secret ids yaknow. No metas in Gotham rule aside, we could help?”

“I mean… it’s complicated. There’s a bunch of murders recently.”

Cassie sounded worried. “We saw the news the other day. You and Stephanie were shot at?”

“…Yeah. Someone’s targeting brides who wear this designer. Steph and I were trying to make ourselves the next pair on the list… the guy botched it and shot Bishop Sherborne.”

“So… once Batman catches Mr Always the Bridesmaid Never the Bride… then what?” Asked Conner. “No more wedding, I guess. Which – yikes – bud. I’ve seen the stuff online. Some people are being brutal about this whole thing. You have too many fake engagements people aren’t gonna believe a real one after that.”

Cassie piped up again. “Not to mention Steph is gonna be thrown into limbo, right?”

Tim was silent as he listened to his friends. He couldn’t explain. This is why he didn’t tell them. They weren’t doing it intentionally, but they were setting off all his alarm bells. It seemed Bart heard something in the silence that the others did not, and asked, more than a little befuddled,

“Wait… you and Steph aren’t together together for reals are you? ‘Cause, you really should have told us! Like no bachelor party? Really? No me as your best man?”

Conner sounded very affronted when he cut in, “Eh. No. That’s me.”

“You can have a girl as your best man right?” Cassie pondered. “Nowadays? I’d be good at that…”

Tim rolled onto his front, utterly depressed. “I don’t know. Know what I wanted… Know what Steph wants…”

It seemed Tim’s sadness finally clicked in the minds of his friends, and Conner lowered his tone.

“You getting your heart broken bud?”

Tim’s eyes grew wet. “I can’t help her.”

“Help her how?”

Cassie began to shoo the other two away. “Let me speak to him. One to one.”

“I can still hear the phone you know.”

“Shut up, Conner. I don’t want you and Bart butting in.”

“Rude.” Bart chirped, but did as he was told. There was shuffling, and the sound of someone being kicked, but soon enough it was just Cassie on the other side of the phone.

“Can’t help her how?” She repeated Conner’s statement, and Tim heard him huff in the distance.

“We… we both want to be together.”

“That’s…that’s good Tim. Right? So, what’s the issue?”

Tim sneered. She wasn’t making it sound good. They just wouldn’t understand, but Tim continued to try.

“But she… I thought she was in a better place. I thought I was in a better place. But the stress is getting to her. She’s tired of being judged. And that’s all I can offer her.”

Cassie was quiet but full of conviction when she responded, “I don’t believe that.”

“No but…Cassie I’ve never seen her like this. Like she’s three steps away from jumping out the window. And that’s supposed to be me. I don’t know how to show her, that she doesn’t need to be frightened. That other people don’t matter. People just aren’t coming on side, not entirely. Not even her helping Bishop Sherborne when he died was enough. And she’s losing her drive.”

“Could you…” She mused it over. “Have you got an event coming up?”

“The engagement party.”

“No, no. Something smaller. Something about your job. Something you could share with her. Show her she doesn’t need to be afraid to share a life with you. Start small to build back up confidence. Steph’s…she’s a little rough round the edges.”

“She’s from Gotham.”

“Exactly. But the more she does that sort of stuff with you, the more people will get to know her and that squidgy centre you talk about. I mean those engagement photos were beautiful.” Tim burned red. Of course, they had seen them. “And I want her red dress more than life itself, but that’s not her. Not you really either. You both do stuff outside of nightwork… do that stuff together y’know?”

Stephanie had asked him about his work. She had asked several times in fact. She had been on multiple visits to his office, watching as he went through conference calls, reports and other dry white-collar work whilst she sat with her college notes spread around her. She herself had said she was interested in what he did. Tim blinked, a plan coming together.

“…Thank you, Cassie.”

“My pleasure.” She said, sounding smug. “Is she there with you now?”

“No… we… we had an argument. She’s gone to cool off on patrol.”

Conner pinched the phone then. “Not to sound judgy, but man… she’s got a temper. And you said when she gets angry, she gets stupid.”

Defensiveness replaced depression, and Tim’s tone became a warning. “Conner.”

“I’m just saying. Think you should go find her.”

“She’s competent Kon.”

“…Sure.”

It was very difficult to not take an imagined slight to Stephanie as a slight against himself. “What’s that mean?”

“Listen, dude—”

A frantic beeping from his phone interrupted Conner. It was the distress signal of Batgirl, one that she did not ring often, or ever, and Tim’s heart stopped.

No. No. No.

“Have to go.”

“Wait –”

“It’ll be over in two weeks so bear with the radio silence.”

“Huh? Dude don’t shut us out after –”

“Bye.”

And he hung up, then rushed downstairs.

**********************************************************************

She had fallen, because if Stephanie suspected of how she would die, it would be from gravity being a bitch. Some bastard had shot at her, she had jumped to avoid it, then collapsed through the roof – rotten wooden beams giving way under her weight. She had crashed down with a horrendous smack, and likely had a concussion. Her neck had snapped in such a way that left her terrified to move her head. Her leg felt damp. Struggling, she pressed her little beacon. Someone would be on their way soon. Outside the building, she heard that man whooping in victory, trying to figure out a way in.

She was in over her head. She wasn’t paying attention. And now she was in agony on the dirty floor of some shithole in Gotham, a murderous drug lord wanting a piece of her.

Wow, she really was spiralling down.

And somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to blame Tim. He hadn’t caused these issues. He’d been honest with her, given her multiple opportunities to back out. And she had hurt him, in every manner of speaking. Even if he had been putting her under pressure… she didn’t…

She didn’t even blame Bruce, who was only trying to protect people, and entrusting his family to help him do so.

Her issues were hers and hers alone. Maybe she’d never really dealt with them, maybe she’d never really worked her way through them. Maybe she just buried it all. Ignore it, and it will go away.

She wasn’t sure how long she was left alone on the floor, safe from the man outside, but however long it was, it wasn’t enough for her to get back on her feet. Her head lolled on the ground, and she tried to push herself up. Keep moving, that’s all she had to do. She’d been through worse and coped. She only managed to get onto her hands and knees when someone grabbed her blonde hair and ripped her back, making her cry out in shock. Her neck clicked oddly. Her left leg limply dragged across the floor, leaving red streaks behind her, whilst the right spasmed, trying to get a footing so she could kick herself upright and punch the bastard, but her head injury was disorientating her beyond being of any use.

“Can’t believe it’s that easy to take out one of you lot.” The cold feel of a pistol pressed against her jaw. If fired, it wouldn’t kill her immediately. This guy wanted her to hurt.

No. She had to apologise to Tim. She had to… She had too…

She had no time to prepare a snarky comeback, because one of the family’s hook shots had rammed itself into the guys arm. He shrieked, hand dropping the gun and her hair, allowing her to roll away into the corner to get a better look at her leg.

She looked up, to see Tim, fully dressed as Red Robin amongst the rotting rafters, angrier than she had seen him in a long time.

She got caught between sharp relief and guilt. Tim had come for her. Dutiful, loyal, Tim.

Letting her head thump against the floor, Stephanie flittered in and out of consciousness.

Tim, meanwhile, had lost his temper.

He knew he was a bit overprotective of Steph. He also knew she was competent. She had been through a lot with and without him, and as Batgirl had saved Gotham multiple times over. He wasn’t a white knight coming to rescue the damsel, but something feral would be set off seeing her in danger. Didn’t matter if he was fifteen or twenty, someone hurting her, someone touching her, was enough to set him off.

It wasn’t like with Captain Boomerang, where everything was calculated, cold and methodical. Steph was hurt, Tim had the means to make the man who did it hurt.

And hurt him Tim did.

Stephanie watched most of it, not really in the right frame of mind to do anything but watch. She wanted to call for him, pull him back to her. But then she would black out for a moment. When she would reawaken, any chance at orientating herself would be lost from the view in front of her.

Bones were meant to be inside limbs, right?

Tim’s torture continued until Dick yoinked him away.

“That’s enough. Okay? Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Dick was home? The thought was enough to cause the red to fade, and for Tim to start to catch his breath. His stomach began to drop. He’d done something stupid?

No. Where was Stephanie?

Nightwing had him held in such a grip that was designed to allow Tim to break out if he wanted, but also jolt into him some semblance of what he was doing.

Tim blinked, then wriggled out of Nightwing’s hold. His brother looked more than a little white at the scene before him. Tim’s chest was heaving, and he could feel sweat dripping off his chin. Slowly he turned to see what damage he had done, then immediately looked away. He had done something stupid. And potentially murderous. For her. Again.

Stephanie had somehow pulled herself into a sitting position, one leg laying limply at an angle. She was breathing heavily, trying to control her body’s response to the pain. Her head was tilted, resting on her shoulder, as if it was too heavy for her neck to support.

“Batgirl…” And then Tim was at her side, looking for the injury in her leg. She hissed when he got close, but from what he could see, there was no fracture, only a puncture wound.

“Landed on the crates. Mother of all splinters..!” She felt her eyes rolling around, vision a blur, and grunted to herself. Play it off. It’s not serious. She hadn’t messed up. Not really, not as bad as before.

Her tone was deliberately light, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to smile. He had realised that his hands were wet and didn’t want to pick her up if he was going to smear her in more blood.

“I’m sorry.” She said, taking Tim away from his brooding. “I hit you. I shouldn’t have.” She looked like she was going to start crying, the pain in her leg and head coupled with the guilt seemingly too much. “I don’t want to hurt you and I did. I’m sorry.”

Tim wanted very much to pull back her cowl and stroke her hair, but restrained himself.

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did.”

“No but –”

He shushed her and she whimpered.  Shamefully, he gripped and wiped his hands on his cape, trying to make himself somewhat presentable, then very carefully, very gently, picked her up in a bridal hold. She cried out but reached up to wrap her arms around him.

Nightwing called both the police and an ambulance, staring at the dying man on the floor. Dick couldn’t do anything to help him, too many broken bones to even move him safely.

Tim watched Dick’s face grow cold.

“I’ll take her back to my apartment.” Tim said.

“No, you will not.”

Tim’s temper spiked again, though holding Stephanie he was unable to act on it as he would have liked. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

The signature sound of Batman’s cape fluttering, and the distant noise of sirens approaching, made the potential argument end.

“Nightwing, drive them both back to the Manor. Have Batgirl checked over.”

There was something very odd in Bruce’s tone that Tim wasn’t used to hearing, but it made him a little frightened.

“As said injured party member…” Chirped Stephanie, head craned back and straining her neck. “I feel like… I need a medical.”

“Hurry up!” Nightwing ordered, making his way to the batmobile. “You can drive my cycle but put Batgirl in the back.”

Four hours later, out of her costume and several stitches in her leg from where she had received the mother of all splinters, Stephanie’s head began to clear. She remembered Tim swooping down, and she remembered him hurting that man. Badly. Really badly. All because she lost her footing. All because she was in the wrong headspace to go out on patrol.

She was better than that. She knew she was.  

She stayed silent, but when Tim returned to her side, the two stared at each other for the longest time. Neither knew where to begin.

Bruce started it for them.

“Do I even need to say what went wrong tonight.” There was no question in his tone. Just a flat, tightly bound anger that Stephanie nearly whimpered at the sound of. She shook her head.

“I messed up. I let my emotions get in the way and I got hurt when it was easily avoidable.”

If Bruce was impressed by her self-awareness, it did not show. He turned to Tim. “And you?”

Tim said nothing. Only glared. Stephanie pressed her hands to her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to block out the sound of the oncoming argument, an argument that was her fault, but that didn’t mean she was going to watch it.

“Tim.” Bruce pushed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nightwing, who had been sat a little back from the whole scene, piped up. “You know that’s a sack of bullshit Tim.”

Tim’s ears burned red, and Bruce didn’t miss the look of betrayal on Tim’s face at his brother. Seemed like that look was all Bruce was seeing recently.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Tim repeated.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“This is just one more thing in a continuing dangerous trend with you and I have half a mind to –”

“I don’t answer to you anymore!” Tim was turning as red as his uniform, but Bruce would not be moved.

“You’re both grounded until the wedding is finished.”

Ordinarily, Stephanie would have fought back. Bruce was not the boss of her. Even Babs barely counted as a mentor anymore. Not really. She was her own keeper, and Bruce attempting to parent her was just an embarrassing effort at best.

Now, with her hands pressed over her eyes, blind to anyone’s expressions, she nodded her consent.

“Promise.” She warbled.

Tim on the other hand, was in the mood to fight. He was so wound up from the day’s events, with no outlet, that it poured out of him defiantly. His voice cracked childishly.

“No! No, no! She didn’t do anything wrong and her injury isn’t even that bad!”

Dick watched Tim grow increasingly frustrated and frowned. What the hell had he missed the past six weeks? Bruce was going to return in kind with an equal aggression that would only serve to blow the roof off the cave, so Dick decided it was his turn to intervene. He got up and shoved past Bruce, physically grappling Tim and dragging him away from Stephanie. Bruce could cool down for a moment and talk to the crying girl. He’d try to give Tim a reality check.

When they reached the stairs, Tim wriggled out of Dick’s grip, eyes still on Stephanie, but his anger was directed straight at Dick.

“What do you think you’re—”

Dick grabbed Tim’s arm again, shaking him, making Tim look at him. “I think Tim, you’ll be needed to look after Steph. Yeah?”

“I don’t need to be grounded to do that. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not being punished for something I didn’t do!” Tim protested, tugging back to remove Dick’s hand from his arm. Dick huffed, feeling Tim was letting his ego get in the way of the point he was trying to make.

“I really don’t care about that. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re both off kilter. Take a break. Look after each other.”

“I am not –”

“Tim look at her!” Dick hissed. Bruce had moved over to Steph’s side, and sat next to her. Tim watched as the two talked.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, voice somewhat softer.

“I… I’m having a bit of a freak out at the moment.” It was an odd thing for her to confess to Bruce of all people, but he seemed to be listening. “The whole… pretending to be in love mission is throwing me off more than I thought it would.”

“Pretending?”

“Oh God…” She moaned. Where did Bruce get off sounding so confused? What did he even think of her and Tim as a couple? Were they that transparent in their pining? “I’m finding it emotionally taxing.”

Always easier to be flippant. Say exactly what you mean, but hide it under a layer of sarcasm as a back door exit in case the sincerity of the statement was called into doubt. Bruce did not doubt her. Instead, he asked her something else.

“Can you keep going?”

“I swore to.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Then Bruce leaned forward, grabbing her wrist. He tugged it away from her face so she wasn’t hiding her eyes. At the look she gave him, so tired and sad, his grip moved down to her hand, and she squeezed back.

“I can keep going.” She sniffed, her bodily pain catching up with her miserable mood. “Not gonna lie, Batman… I feel like I’m slipping back into bad habits.”

“That’s why I said no patrol.”

“I know.”

“You going to listen?”

She nodded. “No Batgirl for a couple of weeks…Promise.”

“At the very least you can catch up on sleep a bit.” It was meant to be reassuring, but Bruce’s claim made Stephanie snort a gentle laugh. “And work on whatever is troubling you.”

Stephanie’s smile faded. “I can try. That’s all I can do at the minute. I’ll fix it.”

“Okay. I’ll get Alfred to give you a painkiller to help put you down tonight.” Bruce looked to Tim, who was in the corner with Dick. He looked equally miserable but chewed his lip and walked back over.

“I want to take you back to the apartment, Steph, if you want me to. I’ll take a couple of weeks off with you.”

She nodded. “I want that. Lemme get my drugs first.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened a little as he inspected Tim, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze. Their conversation would have to wait. Once dosed up, Stephanie wrapped her arms around Tim’s shoulder, and hoisted herself up so she could hop over to his car.

“Goodnight Bruce…thank you.”

His mouth twitched, but with what emotion, Stephanie couldn’t tell.

When they got back, Stephanie managed to get settled on the bed. Tim promised to stay up with her to ensure she wouldn’t pass out with nobody to check on her. She lay like her limbs were made of lead, her head resting on a pile of pillows trying to support her neck.

“I’ll be okay. Alfred said since I can hold a conversation and my pupils are normal, I’ll be fine.”

“Your pupils are not fine. They’re as big as dinner plates.”

“That’s the painkillers.”

“I know… I just…”

She smiled. “You worry.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at her hands, wringing them together. Her fingers on her right hand settled on her engagement ring, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry Tim, for everything. The argument and the hitting and me being a brat for weeks…You don’t… you don’t deserve any of this.”

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did. And I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.” He fought back.

“No…not really.” She wrung her hands. “There’s no excuse. I’m better than this… better than my dad.”

“You’re not your father.”

Stephanie nodded in response. He thought she believed him.

Tim, who up until this point had been standing on the other side of the room, moved to sit on the bed. He was facing away from her, but Stephanie could see both of their faces in his mirror. The guilt that was rippling across his face was hard to watch, so she stared straight forward instead, looking at the fat yellow duck at the foot of the bed. Tim saw her do so, and his fingers curled up in the bed sheets.

“Can we get some things out in the open? Like, brutally honest out in the open?”

“Interrogating someone whilst their high on painkillers? Sure. But can I start?” She asked. Tim screwed up his nose and nodded. Stephanie kept her eyes on the duck. “Why did you hurt that man so badly?”

Tim’s palms became sweaty, and he nervously wiped them down his sweatpants.

“He hurt you.” He offered lamely.

“No. This was… this was different.”

“It is related to why Bruce and I don’t get on much in the suits anymore.”

Understatement. She didn’t know what he’d done. She couldn’t know…

“You think you have to be that harsh? Your fighting is getting colder and crueler. I worry…”

“What I was doing before wasn’t working. I’m not Jason. Not that far gone. But I’m not… not the same person I was when I was fifteen, Steph.”

Please don’t abandon me for it.

Stephanie shifted, creeping out from under the covers. She curled up behind him, her sore leg still stretched straight, and then reached around so she could link their fingers. She was smiling a little dopily, and Tim would have found it sweet if he could have gotten the day’s events out of his head.

“Look at us. You’d think we’ve been through some traumatic things the past few years.”

Tim raised his eyebrows at her teasing. “Weird that.”

Steph laughed, though it sounded a little slurred to his ears.

“You know, I figured out a long time ago. Why I love you.” She whispered conspiratorially, begging Tim to play along. Eventually she would conk out, drugs and injuries tiring her out too much to stay conscious, but Tim let her take the conversation off track. Her breath and hold were so warm it was nearly feverish. She had seen him nearly murder a man, but then she had let him pick her up with blood stained hands, and she now held his fingers like nothing was wrong. Maybe the pair of them were beyond help, but Tim couldn’t give up the idea of a happy life for Stephanie. Preferably with him in it but…he wasn’t too picky.

“Why?” He muttered.

“You’re so gentle. So gentle. No other guy I know comes close to it. And, yeah, at first, I was infatuated with you because oh so cool Robin, so brave, so smart… but when you stayed with me despite the pregnancy… I don’t know how to put it… you have a giant brain and a giant-er heart. I don’t care about how well you can hurt people. That’s never been part of it. And I believe you’ve never enjoyed that bit of superheroing. Knowing you had come for me, that made me feel safe, that was all I needed. Watching you nearly kill that man…”

“I panicked.” He confessed. “You’d left on such shaky terms and then your beacon went off and all I could see was red. I was so upset.”

“I was frightened for what you would do. For a second.”

Her stating her worry seemed to almost traumatise Tim. An uncomfortable length of time passed as he worked through what she said in his head. Stephanie didn’t know him. She didn’t love him. Not who he was. Not really. That violence was part of him now. She said she knew him, but with who he was now staring her right in the face, she did not want it to be true.

She leaned closer, her breath a warm whisper against his neck. “I told you. I won’t let you forget. Especially seeing that violence tonight. I promise Tim. That’s not you.”

He choked a little when he responded, trying to play it down and play it off.

“I try not to think about it. The moment I do for too long, I’ll believe Bruce is right to be worried.”

“Nah. He’s just being a dad.”

A long moment of silence passed. Stephanie continued to play with Tim’s fingers whilst she did nothing but think through the day’s events. Finally, she pressed her forehead against the back of his neck, against the burn scar he had received what felt like so long ago.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you love me? Actual quantifiable reasons.” She shifted behind him, uttering more to herself than him, “Gimme an ego boost.”

Tim answered immediately, “Because you’re brave. Because you refuse to accept your lot in life. Because you’re beautiful. Because you came back to Gotham when you had every right to leave forever. Because somehow, after everything he’s done to you, you don’t hate your dad.”

“Don’t like him either.”

She didn’t respond to any of his other points. She was trying to accept them as truth, as Tim had yet to lie to her for all of this hellish two months. But something just prevented her from absorbing it. That wasn’t her. Or maybe it had been.

“Not the same thing.” Tim sighed and leaned back. The way she was sat meant his head thunked on her collarbone. “Steph? You’re a good person. Even if you doubt it sometimes. Reason enough.”

Steph’s breath washed over Tim, smelling of the medicine she had slurped down earlier.

“I hurt you.”

“Remember when I throttled you and kicked you in the stomach?”

“That was different.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m a big boy and can handle an argument here and there. This pity party, Steph… it helps no-one. Speaking from experience here.” Tim’s mind drifted back to his conversation earlier. “I have an idea. Well, Cassie suggested it actually.”

“You spoke to the Titans.” There was a flat curiosity in her tone. It wasn’t aggressive, just resigned.

“They’re getting sick of being ignored. Don’t think embarrassment is going to cut it as an excuse anymore.” Tim watched as Stephanie looked away, ashamed from being chided. “Listen. I want you to come with me to do some stuff for work.”

“What stuff?”

“Tomorrow I’m visiting the community centre down the road. There’s an after-school club for kids whose parents work crazy hours. We funded the renovations and pay a few members of permanent staff. It’s just a fluffy photo op, but you might enjoy it more than anything else I do for my job.”

“How old are the kids?”

“Middle school and down.”

She sat still and thought it through. Tim sighed. “Listen. You once told me that I was going to drive myself mad one day.”

“You are going to drive yourself mad one day.”

“Why?”

She huffed, already knowing what angle he was playing. “Because you worry too much and have overly controlling tendencies when left unchecked.”

“…Yeah. Sure.” He tried not to sound too resentful as she relayed his flaws so dispassionately. “So, where’s Miss “The Only Variable You Can Control Is Yourself”? Huh?” Tim nudged her jaw with his forehead, causing her to grumble. “You do you, Steph. The rest will fall into place. Come with me to this event. Play some foosball with kids.”

She screwed her eyes shut, and Tim watched her at the awkward angle. Finally, her internal battle ended, and she nodded her head.

“It’s another thing for the job if nothing else.”

“I’m not asking you to do it for the mission.” Tim breathed. He couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. “I mean it’s a side perk sure, but I just want it to remind you that you’re not a bad person.”

Stephanie finally pulled away, back under the covers of the bed. Her eyes were wet.

“I’m maybe not a bad person but I am a mess. Don’t know why you put up with me.”

“That’s okay.” And Tim crawled over to her. Being unbearably tender, he pulled all of her hair to one side and began to braid it, hoping it would help her sleep better than her usual tangled mop allowed. A sudden memory occurred to him, and he smiled absentmindedly. “You’re worth a few stomach ulcers.”

She looked at him suspiciously at his weird statement, handing him a hair tie from her wrist as he worked his way down. “I haven’t changed my mind. About what I said. I’m not emotionally ready to be with you. Not strong enough yet.”

“Do you want to be?” He asked, tone light, trying to not pressure her too much. He finished tying off the braid with an exaggerated snap of the elastic.

“With you?”

“Mm.”

“I do, Tim.”

“Then I’ll wait. After this mission is finished, we can… start from scratch again. Take it slow.”

“…I like the sound of that.”

“And in the meantime…” He got under the covers next to her. “We work on one thing at a time. Like a checklist. Number one, sleep and work off that injury.”

“Tim…” She smiled, but it was brittle and fell very quickly. Tim stroked loose strands of hair away from her face, and she shut her eyes. “How do you know I’m not just using you? You could be with someone like Tam right now. Why stay for the promise of maybe?”

“Well, firstly, you don’t have a manipulative bone in your body.”

“That’s a lie.” Her voice was starting to slur. She was growing heavier and sleepier with each moment.

He quickly rebuffed her rebuttal. “Mmm? I don’t know about that. And secondly,” He rested his hand on her cheek. “I don’t want Tam, or anyone else. Just you. I want to be happy. So, I want to stay in Gotham. I want Bruce to get off my case. I want to help people. And I want… I want you. That’s all. Think that’s…pretty standard for a guy in his twenties.”

Softly, slowly, Stephanie had moved closer and closer whilst Tim mused aloud. When they were sharing a pillow, Tim’s eyes drifted down to her lips again, and chewed his own nervously.

“You can kiss me.” She said, tone still flat. “If you want to. For real.”

“…Not good for you. You said. Once.”

“Once.”

But Tim knew she was only saying so to punish herself. He may have been sick in love with her, but he still wasn’t so far gone as to make out with someone who, as far as he knew, was still pretty high on painkillers.

Then their foreheads were touching, and Steph’s hands were burying into Tim’s hair. He felt awfully cruel when he did so, whilst knowing it was the right thing to do, but Tim reached down, under the sheets, and pushed four fingers into her stitches.

She shrieked, rolling away on to her back. Her cry turned into one of laughter, then she groaned, writhing a little under the sheets as the pain in her head and leg sharpened at the sudden movements.

“No funny business madam.”

Breathlessly, she grunted, nodding a little too fervently.

“Sure, sure.”

She was becoming that last stage of manic before the exhaustion caught up with her, so Tim tried to gently press down on her limbs, one by one, hoping to create a reassuring weight to help calm her down.

“Things will be better in the morning. You’ll see.” He laid back down, wrapping an arm around her, essentially making them spoon. His hand reached for hers, and he began to play with her ring. “Wanna take it off? To sleep?”

She shuffled backwards, until the curve of her spine pressed against his chest. “S’okay.” And then she yawned, nuzzling her way into the pillow.

They lay in comfortable silence for a long moment, before Tim reached back to turn off the lights. When his hand returned to hers, she called his name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy to her own ears, as she was half asleep when the thought came to her.

“Tim?”

“Mm?”

“You promise to wait for me? Just a bit longer?”

“Promise.”

She squeaked happily, then promptly began to snore. Gone. Tim chuckled, then closed his eyes.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 20 - 16

20. maNga - “We could be the same” Turkey 2010

You could see it in my eyes, it should come as no surprise that the highest rock entry on this ranking is OF COURSE the avant garde rock entry. 😍

It certainly isn’t a stretch to call “We could be the same” avant garde because it’s an experimental extravaganza if ever there was, a rag-rag fusion of indie rock, industrial, hiphop and folk. 😍 More importantly one that WORKS. It’s really hard to put all of these genres together and not disturb the flow between each segment, yet that is exactly what maNga do. Their song runs like an oiled machine, supported by an excellent score of orchestral rock (the fiddle is an especially nice touch.) The snappy libretto keeps the ensemble well together, creating an atmosphere of pure coolness. 

This brave and creative entry is further supported by an act that has a well-defined aesthetic and artistic vision. (another sign of good avant garde. Pay attention because we are going to boot a LOT of them near the top of this ranking). MaNga don’t need much in terms of staging (since their song is already excellent), so a clever combo of strobe light seizure + dramatic helmet removal (FEATURING ACTUALLY CUTTING METAL AWAY WITH A BUZZSAW) is all it needs. 

FOR JUST ONE NIGHT WE COULD BE THE SAME

NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY. 

Eurovision is all about taking the hand that you’re dealt and running with it. maNga did exactly that. They weren’t vocally perfect but again, rock is a genre where it’s okay to sound unimpressive because the score will always out class you. They don’t have the best song, but again, it was something special, brave and inspired. Every small aspect of “We could be the same” comes together into a whole that is much bigger than the sum of its parts and for that, I shall always cherish them. 

________________________________________________________________

19. Joci Pápai - “Origo” Hungary 2017

[2017 review here]

I was worried that Joci’s NQ in the latest contest would tarnish his legacy, but if anything “Az én apám”’s failure at being entertaining only made me appreciate “Origo” even more.😍 Let us not beat around the bush. “Origo” is art. Like all art, it’s largely hit-or-miss. You either love this wonderful fusion of rap, self-references to Samuraihood and gypsy folk traditions, or you’re a unevolved troglodyte with subpar taste.😈 Lol I remember the music journalists and juries HATING “Origo” and... honestly, I get it. Yes. I can understand that deeply personal anectodes and proudly displaying your cultural heritage can fly over the heads of those narrow of mind. It’s fine. Not every song has complex meaning. You can vote for the “Replays” of this world at your heart’s content. ^__^

Music is at its core a form of expression, of conducting emotion with sound, of telling a story. We use words as a crutch for our empathy, but truly good music doesn’t need to rely lyrics in order to spread its message around. The true message always lies in the score. “Origo” shatters those language barriers by slowly,

 but steadily

unfolding a melancholic and touching narrative

that strikes everyone silent.

________________________________________________________________

18. Krista Siegfrids - “Marry me” Finland 2013

A WILD DINGDONG HAS APPEARED

Only logical we continue from artistic complexity to figurative cotton candy. 😍 but the same musical principles apply here as well, actually. “Marry me” has an upbeat tempo flanked by wedding bells that already carries its happy-go-lucky marriage vibe across even before the first words are spoken. 🤗 It is there to indulge and delight, which it does with all the zest and pluck you’d expect from Krista Siegfrids. 

Anyway, I’m sure this will shock you but I FLOOOOOOOOVE Krista Siegfrids soooooooo fucking muuuuuch as a human and I am NOT backing down on my fanboyism. She’s one of the few Eurovision Alumni that ALWAYS makes me happy whenever she appears, either as a force of HIGH FASHION/UMK hostess or as a resident melfest flop queen.😍  HON SNURRA MIN JORD!!!

DINGEDONG EVERY HOUR, WHEN YOU PICK A FLOWER~

As it happens, “Marry me” is the perfect canvas for her over-the-top, realhousewifesque personality. "Marry me” just delivers non-stop: it has a light-hearted, infectuously catchy beat, doubles down on lyrical and visual comedy, carries a happy vibed with a deliciously psychotic undercurrent, supplemented a superb act featuring a groom-into-bridesmaids twist and some hilariously opportunistic lgbtq pandering 😍 OH OH OH OH OH

DING DONG!!!1!1!1!11!1!!

ps: this being the entry that caused TRT to withdraw indefinitely because they can’t get on board with some hot girl-on-girl action. STAY PRESSED LOSERTWATS!!!

________________________________________________________________

17. Laura Tesoro - “What’s the pressure?” Belgium 2016

“YOU’VE GOT A STUPID SMILE 😄” -- Alexander Rybak, when praising Laura Tesoro during the NF. (😍)

Lol this is where my degrees of separation come in, because I’ve met several people that personally know Laura Tesoro and... with one exception they ALL fucking loathe her. 😍 (and aforementioned exception is her cousin 😍)  The general concencus re: Laura is that she’s an insufferable conceited bitch. Now, this could have easily ended up terrible if LauraLaura was That Unfounded Girl but... um,

can we say she has grounds to be a bit high on herself? She was fucking awesome in Stockholm. If anything Laura’s diva id helped “What’s the pressure”. First of all, there is the admirable confidence with which she takes the stage and completely NAILS every twist and turn with minimal effort. This is pure performance TALENT and if you can’t see that you’re Helen Keller. 

And second there’s the message behind “What’s the pressure”, which is uplifting and cheerful in the hands of a normal person, but when brought by a narcissist like Laura becomes a hysterical exhibit of concern-trollery: “HEY PERSON SUFFERING FROM ANXIETY ~I~ *NEVER* SUFFER FROM ANXIETY. LET ME TELL YOU WHY YOU SUFFER FROM ANXIETY AND I DON’T” (god what an obnoxious human 😍 LOVE HER. 😍) 

All in all, I think Laura has the justification she needs to have an ego, something her aforementioned haters (begrudgingly) admitted after seeing her own the live twice.🤭  She is a living conduit of confidence juju, a performance wonder, a Diva trapped in the body of an antropomorphic labrador. Dynamite comes in small packages and Laura Tesoro is more lit than Chinese Newyear fireworks.  🎇________________________________________________________________

16. Hovi Star - “Made of stars” Israel 2016

I’ll be honest, Hovi Star is one of my favourite human beings to ever participate in Eurovision.🤗  He has proven himself an UNSTOPPABLE force of sass, delivering interview gold on a terrifyingly consistent basis. There are enough examples, but the ones I’m going with are his impeccable Ira Losco Snatch Game  and his hilariously petty, one-sided feud with Douwe Bob (Dutch reporter: “what do you think about Douwe.” Hovi: “Oh I don’t think about him.😊 At all.🙂  Ever. 🙃 *hairflip*” god what a King of stonecold putdowns 😍)

Having said that, even though I loved Hovi as a ~human~ going in, I was still caught off-guard by how much I loved “Made of stars”. See, you know what I think about stripped down power-ballads: I don’t think about them. At all. Ever. *hairflip*. 

However, this fucking song

pulls all of my heartstrings

with mesmerizing efficacity.

“Made of stars” showcases the best of Israel: they excel at classical drama: well-choreographed and sentimental, “Made of stars” is a genuinely touching ballad which Hovi magically imbibes with the spirit of Conchita. He whips up emotional tension so thick only his wit can penetrate it.

As an entry “Made of stars” is very emotionally intelligent and so, so brave. It has clearly defined yet subtle undertones of homosexuality that make me feel represented and loved. It is staged in good taste, elegant, introverted and clever, yet accessible, direct and poignant. The middle-eight’s crescendo-into-starfall creates a bone-chilling moment of beauty, of pride, of empowerment. 

For such a simple entry, it delivers a lot of great things, proving once more: it’s not what you perform, but how you perform it.

And this update spelled the end for Turkey, Hungary, Finland and Israel.

TURKEY

Not much to say, honestly. Turkey have three entries in this decade and two of them were good. They are a hit-or-miss nation for me overall, mostly because i LOVE them in the 80s and 90s and somewhat dislike them in the 00s. What mostly bothers me is TRT’s attitude towards the rainbow community AND their self-entitlement towards the jury vote/big five. Both are highly toxic and I’d rather they keep on sitting out until they’re willing to become a healthy part of the Eurovision community again. 

HUNGARY

Hungary are a good Eurovision country and their statistics reflect that. Boggie of COURSE ruined it by being the worst, but she’s an exception, not the rule. They are a really good country for indie gems and hopefully they’ll get their shit together. Could make a nice outsider winner pick in the upcoming decade, who knows?

FINLAND

Finland is such an underrated eurovision nation. I mean, look at that chart, and then ponder on the fact, with 7 good entries out of 10,  they NQ’d six times and that NONE of their four qualifiers reached the top 10. Finland are bullied beyond belief and it fucking needs to end. 

ISRAEL

This looks more underwhelming on paper than it is in reality. Israel’s probelm is never the song. Their songs are nearly always good. The problem is the live performance, where they get their accents wrong (ie: Mei dying from wideshotitis, Kobi being reduced to a sobstory, Dana being a giant penis joke, Harel fucking up vocally and Netta being reduced to a parody of herself). They just need to lighten up more, which they did post-Nadav resulting in a few great entries, and Toy. Overall, Israel are one of my favourite Eurovision countries, and for good reason: when they are good, they are fucking excellent. 

[90simaginesandfanfics]

Cradle Broken Glass - Chapter Sixty

Shopping was never exactly Layla’s forte. She could barely even keep the sigh from leaving her lips when Ash pulled her to yet another boutique in the city. Ever since she had found out about the engagement, Ash had pulled her into full bridesmaid mode, where everyday since telling her they had gone hunting for everything needed. Ash already had a location in mind to use for the ceremony and reception, and Jeff had already bought suits and everything he needed. Layla had been dragged along to a bakery and wedding shop to order a cake and buy table settings. And now, Ash was forcing her to buy her bridesmaid dress. She wouldn’t have minded so much but she was in no way ready to dress up like a princess.

Since it had come to light that Eddie was going to be the best man at the wedding - meaning she would have to see him again for the first time in two years -  her thoughts were giving her mild anxiety. She had been avoiding him so far, since the planning for the wedding was rushed so everyone in the wedding party had different tasks that they were all doing separately. But she knew sooner or later she was going to have to see him again and it terrified her. 

What if he had a girlfriend that he was bringing to the wedding? What if he barely even looked at her? What if he didn’t care at all that she was there? She didn’t know what she wanted him to do. But one thing she had to make sure of was that she looked good. Which was exactly why shopping for a dress was freaking her out so much. She needed to look fucking amazing to show him that she was doing fine. She had too much pride to let him know that she was still a fucking mess. When they had first broken up she had put a bit of weight on (which was an insult to injury since she was already insecure about her curves), and it had gotten worse when he had tried to talk to her through harassing Ash after she got that flight back from Seattle. She had spent the past year trying to lose it, and even though she had half succeeded, it would still feel like a kick in the teeth to not look her best when he saw her all dolled up.

“What about this one?” Ash said excitedly, effectively pulling Layla out of her reverie, and forcing her to come back to the real world. She looked at the dress that Ash was holding out and grimaced slightly. Ash sighed and went back to picking something out.

“Look, it’s your wedding, so I will wear whatever you want me to. I want you to be happy so it doesn’t matter if I like the dress or not, I’ll try that one on if you like it.” Layla responded, feeling bad for not liking anything that Ash was going for. The colour theme her and Jeff had gone for was a pastel blue, nearly white, and it was absolutely stunning for all the decorations that they were planning for the ceremony and reception. But it seemed like every dress in that colour that they had found was dreary and old fashioned.

“No. I want you to love the dress and feel comfortable. You’re my best friend in the world and you’re opinion means everything. I mean, if it wasn’t for you I would have bought those horrible centerpieces the other day and that would have been a fucking disaster!” Ash said and Layla laughed along with her while she started to browse through the racks, still not finding anything. Until she saw a piece of fabric with the colour she was looking for and pulled it from the racks, turning and showing Ash.

“Fuck. I need to see you in that!” Ash squealed excitedly, and Layla followed along with her. They both made their way to the dressing rooms and Layla practically ripped her clothes off to get the dress on. A small part of her brain told her that while the dress was beautiful, there was no way it was going to look good on her body, but she squashed it down, telling herself that even if she looked shit, at least the dress was great for the wedding. Yet as she zipped up the back, she looked in the mirror and felt like crying. 

She had never seen herself so good before, and it made her feel amazing. Her rich chestnut hair flowed over her shoulders perfectly to accentuate the off the shoulder dress. It was the lightest pastel blue she had ever seen, the sweetheart neckline giving her ample cleavage and the almost jersey fabric style cinched her waist in perfectly. There was a slit going down on side which gave her more room and made the whole thing look seductive. She breathed in and opened the curtain to show Ash.

“What the fuck! You cannot wear that or I’m going to look upstaged at my own fucking wedding!” Ash screamed, causing multiple women to look out way in the store, but Layla could hardly care as her and her friend grinned at each other.

“You like it?” She asked apprehensively.

“I fucking love it. Geez, Jeff might even leave me for you, who knows.” They both laughed at each other before Layla went behind the curtain to get changed again. They went to the front of the store and paid for the dress and alterations as well as ordering two others for Ash’s cousins who were stepping in as bridesmaids. She didn’t really want anyone up there other than Layla, but since Jeff was having Stone and Mike as groomsmen, she didn’t really want it to look imbalanced. 

Layla was on cloud nine as they left.

*****

“How’s my favourite mountain man?” Layla practically screamed as her and Ash walked through the front door, effectively scaring the shit out of Jeff who jumped three feet out of his bones. He turned around to offer her a glare before he practically ran over to Ash and planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.

“Much better now.” He said as he batted his eyes at her best friend, making Layla gag.

“Well it better be food I’m smelling because I’m hungry as fuck.” Ash said before she proceeded towards the kitchen and started to stir the pot that Jeff had on the stove. Layla sat down on the couch and he joined soon after, with Ash’s humming from the kitchen being the only thing to be heard.

“You okay?” he asked to break the silence and she pondered for a minute what exactly he what referring to. Either way she didn’t know how to respond honestly. Even though her and Ash being best friends had meant she saw Jeff, she wasn’t as close to him as she once was since she didn’t want the constant reminder of her ex. She could often sense Jeff wanted to talk more but she cut the conversation off usually since she knew where it was heading and she didn’t like it. Yet she couldn’t help but feel like she’d lost a brother since the breakup but she didn’t know what to do about it. Her relationship with Stone and Mike was even worse, seeing as she had only seen them a handful of times since and its was extremely uncomfortable.

It was one thing she was still bitter about. It had seemed like Eddie didn’t want them to still be friends with her, and even though they she still talked to the boys, he had essentially gotten his wish.

“I’m alright. Just tired after shopping all day. Your fiancee is like a hamster on crack when it comes to it.” She responded, hoping he would take the hint and change the subject.

“I mean, are you okay, you know, with everything?” He reiterated with a soft voice she had missed. It was the one he used whenever she was in a bad place and was trying to comfort her. It didn’t bring her any comfort now, knowing it came from pity most likely.

“Jeff, I’m completely and utterly fine. No need to have a heart to heart about it.” She said, being blunt and hoping he wouldn’t continue the conversation on the way it was going..

“Okay, okay, I’m butting out.” He laughed and Layla’s body instantly filled with affection for the man who had been her rock since she had moved to Seattle. Jeff gave her a kind smile before getting up and walking to the kitchen, most likely to check on Ash. But as he got to the doorway, he turned around.

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s a nervous wreck right now. I know he’s my friend and all, but you having your shit together would make him breakdown more than he already is and I would pay to see that.” He finished with another smile and then walked into the kitchen.

Layla sat there stunned, not knowing how to process that information, whether she was happy or sad about it. But she couldn’t help but let a small amount of bitterness set into her as she watched Jeff and Ash kissing and laughing in the kitchen, all loved up. She hated her jealousy.

*****

Eddie and Layla are finally going to meet again in the next chapter! How do you think it’s going to go? Hope you all enjoyed and sending positive vibes all your way xxx

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 61: Married Life

Masterlist

Lucy sat up in bed in her hotel room. She gave big groaning stretch, before reaching for her phone. Ignoring her notifications, she called her best friend.

“Hello?” Came the groggy voice from the other end.

“Sarah! I had the weirdest dream. I met a handsome actor in London, and we started dating, then we got married! Can you believe it? How crazy would that be?” Lucy rambled to her friend.

“Lucy, I’m laying here, incredibly hungover from your wedding reception last night to said handsome actor. Why are you calling me?” Sarah grumbled across the line.

“Because I thought this call would be a really good joke, and that you’d like it.” Lucy replied much too cheerfully for Sarah’s liking.

“Yes, it was very funny,” Sarah replied deadpan, “where is your husband? Why didn’t you tell him this funny joke?”

“I think he’s in the bathroom, or at least someone is, and the joke wouldn’t work telling him.”

“Well, why don’t you try, I’m going to go die now.” Sarah moaned into the phone.

“Ok,” Lucy responded, more chipper than anyone should be on New Year’s morning, “I’ll see you at 11 for brunch!”

“I’m planning on being dead by then, but on the off chance that I’m not, sure, see you there,” came Sarah’s monotone reply.

“I love you!” Lucy yelled into the phone, grinning.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sarah said before disconnecting the call.

Lucy looked up to find Henry standing in the open bathroom door, wearing a fluffy, white, hotel robe, and a wide smile. “Not even married 24 hours and you’re already cheating on me,” he quipped, clutching his heart dramatically.

“Technically, I’m cheating on her with you. I’ve loved Sarah, way longer than I’ve loved you,” Lucy shrugged.

Henry chuckled as he ambled to the bed, dropping down to lay beside his wife. She shifted her position to lay her head on his chest. “Is that why we work so well together? We’re just an illicit affair,” he asked jokingly.

“Probably,” she pondered aloud, “the excitement of it all? That must be it,” she giggled.

“So, Mrs. Cavill, do you want to shower first? Or should I? We’re meant to be at brunch in an hour.” Henry said, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, Mr. Cavill, if we shower together, it would save time, and water…” she trailed off.

Standing up next to the bed, he replied, “that is so economical of you,” he held out his hand to help her out of the bed. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply before leading her to the bathroom.

The happy couple met everyone in the same ballroom that had hosted their reception, for a buffet brunch. Both his and her families were in attendance, as well as her bridesmaids and their families. Henry’s agent Dany and her husband were also there, as well as a few other assorted wedding guests that were staying at the hotel.

Lucy and Henry sat with Sarah, Paulo, Charlie, Heather, Dany, and her husband Dave. “Lucy, how are you so damn chipper this morning, you drank just as much as I did.” Sarah commented ripping off a piece of her croissant.

“I switched to sparkling cider about half way through the night,” Lucy replied, winking at her friend.

“Sneaky bitch,” Sarah responded jokingly.

“Smart bitch,” she pointed in Henry’s direction, “have you seen my husband? I was not going to be too drunk to handle that last night. Uh uh,” Lucy replied, causing the whole table to burst out laughing.

“It was a lovey ceremony, Lucy.” Dany said, after everyone had spent several minutes enjoying their food. “And such a fun reception. I had forgotten what it was like to just attend a party, and not do any networking. To just enjoy myself.”

“Well, we’re glad you had a good time. And thank you for coming. Henry and I really appreciate you being here, and for taking care of that, you know,” Lucy replied.

“It was our pleasure,” Dany replied smiling.

“Dany, could I speak to you for a moment?” Henry asked seriously, when he was done enjoying his food.

“Sure, I’m just going to grab a refill on my coffee, first,” she replied standing. Dany, followed Henry out of the ballroom, around the corner to a grouping of leather arm chairs. Henry took one, and Dany sat next to him.

“What’s on your mind, Cavill?” Dany asked.

“How could you let Lucy pay for that watch? If I had expressed an interest in it, they probably would have given it to me for free,” Henry asked, exasperated.

“They did, Henry,” Dany replied.

“But Lucy said she paid for it.”

“She was insistent upon paying for this present for you. I took her money, and I’ve put it into an account, and my plan is to invest that into an upcoming film project, which will give her a producer credit, which would then entitle her to a percentage of the profits of said film. If we do this the smart way, she could get quite a return for her investment,” Dany explained.

Henry just stared at his agent. “You need to tell her this. Because I certainly am not going to,” he insisted.

“I was planning on it. But I wanted to wait until after the wedding.”

“Now, is as good a time as any, I’m going to get her,” Henry replied, standing.

Henry returned to the table to find Lucy bouncing Sophia in her arms, while engaging on conversations with everyone else at the table. Henry knelt down next to her chair, “darling, if you don’t mind, Dany would like to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, being called to the principal’s office,” Lucy quipped while pushing herself away from the table.

“Darling, give the baby back to her parents before you leave the room,” Henry joked.

“Fine, if I have to,” Lucy mock pouted,  before handing Sophia to Heather.

She made her way to the chair next to where Dany was sitting. “Whatcha’ need?” Lucy asked, plopping down into the soft leather, Henry took the seat next to hers.

“Well, Lucy, it’s about the watch you gave Henry for the wedding.” Dany began, and explained everything she had previously explained to Henry.

“What do you mean by a producer credit?” Lucy asked.

“When the credits roll at the end of a movie, your name would be listed as an associate producer, meaning you helped fund the movie, and as a producer, you would be entitled to a share of the profits.”

“So I didn’t pay for Henry’s watch?” Lucy asked, slowly starting to make sense of what the other women was explaining to her.

“Correct, and with your permission, I’d like to take that money that you gave me for the watch, and put it to work for you,” Dany explained.

Lucy turned to Henry, “are you ok with this?”

“Cupcake, I think this is a phenomenal idea. If you do this correctly, you could make enough to then invest more in future projects. You could end up making more than I do,” Henry said plainly.

“How much are we really talking about? I don’t know how much it costs to make a movie, but the paltry amount I gave you couldn’t make me that big of a return.” Lucy asked.

“Let’s use some simple numbers. If the movie profits 100 million dollars, and your share, which depends on a number of factors, is even 1%, that would be 1 million dollars, before taxes of course,” Dany explained.

“What? Are you kidding me?” Lucy exclaimed.

“I don’t kid about money,” Dany said straight faced.   

“Would I get a choice in what project it goes toward?” Lucy asked, warming to the idea.

“Of course, though you are limited to the projects that my production company has in the works,” Dany assured her.

“That’s fine,” Lucy stuttered, her head spinning.

“Well, alright then,” Dany said patting Lucy’s hand, “I’m glad we had the chance to talk. We’ll be in contact in a few months about what you’d like to invest in. But before then, I need to ask, do you have a specific designer you’d like us to contact about your dress for the premiere?”

“What? Dress? Premiere? What are you talking about?”

“The Batman v Superman premiere. I’m assuming you’ll be there? You’ll need something to wear. As the wife of one of the leads, you’ll need to be dressed accordingly. Do you have a favorite designer?” Dany asked.

Lucy stared at her like she had grown a second head. “No? What do you recommend?”

“We’ll put out feelers, and I’ll give you some choices with whoever gets back to us. Do you have any preferences? Color? Style?”

Lucy thought for a moment, “I don’t look good in pastels. I like jewel tones. And nothing too form fitting. I don’t want to look like a sausage.”

Dany typed all of Lucy’s comments into her phone, “well, my dear, I have your phone number and someone from my office will be in touch,” Dany said starting to rise, “But I must be going, Dave and I fly out late this evening. I can’t take much more of this subzero weather.”

“I understand,” Lucy said, embracing her. “Dany, really, thank you for everything, and thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this,” she said, turning back toward the ballroom.

Lucy sat back down in her chair. “My life with you keeps getting weirder and weirder,” she commented, turning toward Henry.

“How so?” he asked.

“Well, two years ago, the phrase “investing in a movie” meant buying the Blu-Ray edition instead of the DVD. And my favorite designer was Target,” she elaborated.

Henry gave a short chuckle, before standing, offering Lucy his hand and pulling her into his arms. “Well, Mrs. Cavill its just all things you’ll have to get used to,” he said, dropping a kiss on her lips.

She heaved an exaggerated sigh, “I guess,” she said with a smile.

Saturday morning was hectic as all of Henry’s family prepared to leave. While they all packed, Lucy made everyone a breakfast of Belgian waffles, which was eaten very noisily as the boys all protested their departure. They wanted to stay and go sledding again, or ice skating on the lake, and play with Kal.

“Well, boys I suppose you’re welcome to stay, you can come to school with me.” Lucy offered. “We start school on Monday, when do your schools start again?”

“Not for another two weeks,” Olivia interjected.

“So you could come to school with me for two weeks, then I'll send you home to your parents. How does that sound?” Lucy asked.

“Aunt Lucy you’re no fun.” Alfie said from the opposite end of the table.

“I know. I hear that all the time from my students,” she responded.

When everyone had finished their breakfast, the vehicles had been packed, and all the trips to the bathroom had been completed, Lucy and Henry followed the family out to their waiting vehicles. Everyone hugged their goodbyes, and Lucy and Henry waved until the cars disappeared over the rise in the drive.

The pair returned to the house, shivering from the subzero temperatures outside. Henry rubbed his hands over Lucy’s upper arms. “So, Mrs. Cavill we’re alone. What should we do?” He asked suggestively.

Lucy grasped his face between her hands, “my darling, I love you,” she said planting a kiss on his lips. “But right now I need some time alone. I’m going to go watch a movie in the viewing room, and just be by myself for about two hours. I love you, but I am peopled out right now, and unfortunately you are people too. I just need a couple of hours to decompress.” She pressed another kiss to his lips and released his face.

“It’s ok. I understand,” he said, drawing her into his arms, holding her against his chest. “This has been a very overwhelming week. You do what you need to do. Shall we meet in the kitchen for lunch? Say noonish?”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you for understanding,” she kissed him deeply, before making her way to the movie room. She spent a few minutes perusing her movie collection before selecting The Holiday. Lucy reclined her chair and enjoyed the chance to turn her brain off for a little while. As she watched Iris and Amanda spend New Year’s Eve with the new loves of their lives, she couldn’t help but smile at how different this New Year’s Day was from the last.

When her movie was finished, Lucy switched on the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen, and set her favorite playlist on shuffle. She searched the cupboards, trying to find something to make for lunch. Having 19 people in the house for the past week had done a number on their food situation. Luckily she managed to find a box of macaroni and cheese. “I guess we’ll need to hit the grocery store this afternoon,” Lucy said to herself. She got to work filling a pot with water, singing along to a Robbie Williams song.

That was how Henry found her 20 minutes later; standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot, doing a modified salsa dance to Enrique Iglesias. It was a sight he had grown accustomed to seeing; Lucy dancing in the kitchen to her eclectic collection of music. It never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Lucy caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and found him watching her. “How many times are you going to watch me dance in the kitchen?” She scolded.

“Darling, I hope I never stop watching you dance in the kitchen.” He said, gathering her up in his arms, kissing her deeply.

“That’s a good line,” she responded, “would you grab a couple of bowls from the cupboard? Lunch is almost ready.”

Henry turned to get the bowls, “you know you didn’t have to make me lunch. I was thinking we could make something together.”

“I’m just doing my wifely duties; making my husband lunch. And I’m making macaroni and cheese from a box because that’s literally all we have. Seriously, all we have in the fridge is milk, and leftover wedding cake. We’ll have to go grocery shopping this afternoon,” she said spooning the neon orange food into the two bowls. Henry carried the bowls to the table, while Lucy poured them each a glass of water.

They tucked into their simple lunch. “After I’m done eating, I’m going to go strip the beds and start washing sheets and towels.” Lucy said.

“No need. I’ve already started those,” Henry said blowing on his fork before taking a bite.

“You didn't have to do that. Are you gunning for husband of the year? It’s only January 1, slow down, you’ll wear yourself out,” Lucy joked.

“It’s our house. We’re both responsible for taking care of it. Why shouldn’t I wash up after my family was here?” He responded seriously.

“You know, you could give a class on how to be an amazing husband,” she said leaning toward him.

He leaned in too, “I’ve got great inspiration,” he said before pressing a kiss to her lips.

He picked up their empty bowls and brought them to the sink. “You know darling, you never answered my question about a honeymoon.”

“Because we can’t take a honeymoon. I have to go back to work on Monday, and the perfect time to take one, during our actual spring break this year, someone has a world premiere to attend. So the earliest we can take a honeymoon would be June.”

“Fair enough. So where would you like to go in June?” He persisted.

“I think Venice would be fun and romantic, but no, that’s too many people. I want to spend our honeymoon with my husband, not Henry Cavill, Actor,” she thought out loud. “I’ve always wanted to go to one of those beach resorts with the little bungalows over the water. You know? Just spend a week floating and sunning ourselves,” she said dreamily.

Taking her into his arms he said, “Cupcake that sounds amazing,” he kissed her deeply. “You know what else sounds amazing?” He boosted her up to sit on the countertop in front of him, “we have this big house all to ourselves again…” he trailed off nuzzling her neck.

“Hmmm, what did you have in mind?” Lucy asked innocently.

“Remember those wifely duties you mentioned earlier?” He said, kissing his way across her jaw, “I think we should explore more of those.”

With his mouth nibbling its way across her collarbone, and his hands massaging her lower back, Lucy was quickly losing her ability to form a coherent sentence. “That is a good think to have. Why don’t we take this upstairs?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Cavill.” Henry responded, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Lucy noticed that the nameplate on her classroom had already been changed by the time she arrived on Monday morning. She snapped a quick picture, and sent it to Henry. “It’s official now.”

She spent the first blissful half hour before students arrived answering emails from break, and making copies for that day’s lessons. She was writing reminders on the board when one of her seniors entered the room.

“Buenos dias Hunter. Did you have a good break?”

“Did you get married over break?” The girl asked, ignoring her teacher’s greeting.

“I did. Thank you for asking.”

“Was Chris Evans at your wedding?” The girl asked, slightly more emotionally than she had intended.

“He was. He flew in Wednesday morning, and I believe he flew back to Boston on Friday.”

“You mean to tell me that Chris Evans was within 30 miles of me, and I knew nothing about it? How could you be so mean?” She asked with a level of drama only attainable by a teenage girl.

Lucy walked over to her desk, and pulled out a folder. “I was planning to give this to you for part of your graduation gift, but here. Maybe this will make you feel better,” she handed the girl a glossy 8x10 picture of Chris in his Captain America costume. In the lower right-hand corner was written, “Hunter, Good Luck at college in the fall. Make all your dreams come true. Love Chris Evans”

Lucy watched the emotions play over the girl’s face, from disbelief to excitement to elation. She jumped at Lucy, wrapping her teacher in a tight hug. “Oh, Ms. C. This is the best present anyone had ever given me!”

“Hunter, you need to let go. You’re choking me.” Lucy managed to eek out, and the girl quickly dropped her embrace. Catching her breath, she commented, “I’m glad you like it. Like I said, it was supposed to be included with your graduation present, but this is fine too I suppose.”

“Ms. Claussen, this is so far beyond anything I’ve ever expected. Thank you! Can I leave it with you for the day, so it doesn’t get wrinkled in my locker?”

“Of course you can, but it’s Mrs. Cavill now.” Lucy corrected her with a smile.

“OMG, of course. You’re married! Congratulations!” The girl enthused, giving Lucy another tight but quick hug.

“Thank you. Now was this all that you needed?”

“Oh! I need another copy of the list of the props we’re looking for for the play. I can’t find mine, and my aunt volunteered to look through her antique shop. She said she’d loan us anything we need if she has it.”

Lucy looked up from her computer screen, as she pressed the print button on the document. “That’s great! Try to get her the list as soon as possible, so we can rehearse with anything she might be able to get for us.”

“I will. Thank again Ms. C. Or should I say, Mrs. C. That’s so convenient that we barely have to change what we call you!”

“Yes, quite fortuitous,” Lucy laughed, shooing the girl out of her room.

January flew by, as it usually did, as Lucy was getting her drama group ready for their competition. This year she made the recording she sent to Tom. He was only too willing to help again, filming another video to give the group specific pointers on their performance.

On competition day, the group only managed a third place finish again. They were rightfully disappointed, but Lucy reminded them of how proud of them she was, and when she texted Tom the results, he insisted on FaceTiming with the group, to tell them how proud he was as well. Lucy thought at least one of her girls was going to faint at the table for their cast dinner.

The first weekend in February, Lucy found herself in a hotel suite in Minneapolis. Dany had arranged for a stylist to meet with her to try on an assortment of dresses to wear to the world premiere of Henry’s newest movie. He would be attending at least four different premieres but because of scheduling, Lucy was only going to be attending the premiere in New York.

Henry enjoyed himself, watching his wife parade in and out of the bedroom of the suite, each time wearing a different dress.

“This one makes me look like I’m going to prom,” she commented about the first dress she appeared in. The dress had a voluminous skirt that he thought made her look more like a cupcake than a prom attendee, though he wasn’t going to tell her that. The deep plum color complemented her complexion, but it was not the right dress. She returned to the bedroom.

“What do you think of this one?” She asked, when she arrived in front of him in her second dress.

The expression on her face told him that she didn’t like the dress, and he had to agree with her. The olive green color looked horrible with her winter pale complexion, and the cut made it look like she had just loosely draped herself in a bolt of fabric. “I don’t think that’s the right one for you darling,” he responded.

The third dress was white which draped flatteringly on her curves, while the bejeweled neckline and wide waistband, did wonders for her figure. She looked like a Grecian goddess, and he told her so. “I look like I’m going to a costume party,” she contradicted, getting a look of herself in the full length mirror. “This is useless. I’m not going to find a dress,” she hung her head, afraid to sit in the borrowed gown.

Henry crossed the room and caressed her bare shoulders. He raised her chin with his index finger, bringing her gaze to his. “Darling, I’ve never seen you like this, what’s wrong?”

“This is my first public appearance as your wife, and I don’t want to embarrass you,” she finally said, her gaze dropping to her feet.

He forced her eyes to meet his again, “hey, you could never embarrass me. You don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, or anyone else. Wear a dress that you feel comfortable in, because the most important thing to me, is that you are standing there by my side. And if you would be more comfortable in your regular work trousers and a teacher sweater then wear that.”

“No, I want to wear a dress. I don’t get to dress up very often. I guess I’m just nervous to be presented to the world as your wife,” she confessed.

“I understand, but I am excited to introduce the world to my wife, and I want everyone to see how beautiful she is. So let’s find you a dress that you love,” he said, guiding her back to the bedroom to stare at the rack of dresses that Dany had procured for her. Henry leafed through the hangers while Claire, the stylist that had  brought the dresses, helped Lucy out of the white Grecian dress.

His hand stopped on a black gown. The silhouette was quite simple, with wide straps and deeper scalloped V neckline. The skirt was full but not anywhere near ball gown volume. But what instantly made him think of Lucy, a self-described water baby, was the sparkle. The silver half-circles of sparkles intersected to form a pattern reminiscent of a mermaid’s tale. The half-circles started at the bottom of the V neckline and grew further and further apart the farther down the dress they spread. He took the hanger from the rack and held the dress up for her. “Cupcake, what about this one?”

Lucy gasped, “that’s gorgeous.”

Henry left the room while Claire helped Lucy into the dress, though he was fairly certain this would be the last dress she tried on today. When she came out of the bedroom, her beaming smile was all he needed to see. It was obvious to him that she loved the dress, and therefore, he loved the dress. It hugged her figure slightly in just the right places. He could see her confidence when she wore this dress. “Cupcake, I do believe that is your dress,” he announced crossing the room to look over her shoulder into the mirror, “you look stunning.”

“Bring on the premiere,” Lucy demanded.

Chapter 60           Chapter 62

[supersoldierslover]

Hard Feelings Part 6

Summary:  (Modern Au) After the death of your only living relative, you find yourself lost in life and your feelings. To make things worse, you have to deal with Steve Rogers someone from your past that is more present in your life now than ever.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Words: 1787

Warnings:  No warnings this time

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Part 4, Part 5

When you wake up you feel like you are dreaming, you never felt so relaxed in your entire life. Slowly you open your eyes, seeing that you are not in your bedroom but in Steve’s, it’s kind of weird being there in his bed after so long but a good kind of weird.

You look down seeing that Steve is holding close to his body, you feel his head on the crock of your neck and his soft breath in your ear.  For a moment you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of safety that he is providing you.

Your hand starts to caresses his, you notice that he is wearing your father’s watch. You wonder why you didn’t notice that before; gently you take his arm away from you and get out of the bed. You don’t even know what time it is but you know that it’s late and that you should be at home.

“Stay, please.” You look at him; he looks so vulnerable holding your pillow and pleading for you to stay “I have to go home, Wanda must be so worried about me.” You don’t believe in that for a second, she is probably sleeping or watching something on Netflix but you are afraid of what you are going to do if you gave in.

“It’s almost midnight, you should stay.” He says holding your hand; you sit on his bed by his side “I really have to go, but thank you.” You say kissing his cheek “Are we okay?” He asks still holding your hand “More than, ok… I just need some time to put all my thoughts in place.”

He nods, sitting on the bed “Can I least take you home?” He asks trying to get out of bed, you stop him pressing your hand on his chest “No, stay here and rest. Tomorrow we have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Can you text me when you get home?” He asks letting go of your hand, you nod “Of course.” You say getting out of the bed “I see you in a few hours.”

When you get home, you see Wanda and Pietro binge watching something on the TV “You got home early.” Wanda says sarcastic, you laugh stealing a little popcorn of their bow “Sorry mom, I promise that I won't do that anymore.” You answer her in the same tone.

“So where were you? You don’t smell like alcohol but you do smell like men expensive perfume.” She asks curious, pausing what they were watching “I will tell you everything tomorrow, ok? Now I am going to bed” You say texting, Steve letting him know that you got home safe.

“You were with Steve, aren’t you?” She asks with a big smile on her face, she was defiantly happy that you were with him “Maybe, I will let you curious for now.” You say getting inside of Wanda’s room and going straight to bed.

On the next morning, you and Wanda wake up early and went straight to your new apartment. The place was spotless and freshly painted. The only evidence that some ever lived in her was the kitchen decorated in pastel colors.

You were very excited to move in and start to decorate this place. You had so many ideas, to make this place your new home a place where you can be yourself “I am so excited to see how this place is going to turn out.” She says looking around.

“Me too, I hope I can move in at the end of the week.” You say making a mental list of things you need to buy “You know that you don’t need to hurry to move out, I love having you there.” She says sweetly, pulling you into a hug.

“I know but I need this change and we can have like a lot of sleepovers in here.” You say smiling at her, going outside. Part of the reason you wanted to go see your apartment, was to explore your neighborhood.

One of your favorite things was the coffee shop, only a block away. You two sit one of the tables outside taking a sip of your lattes “I think is time for us to have some girl talk.” She says taking a bite of her muffin.

You nod, knowing that she wouldn’t let the subject die that easily “What do you want to know?” You ask afraid of what she might ask “Everything, don’t leave any details out.”

You tell her everything, from your lunch with Steve, to your talk with Pierce and how Pierce was the reason that Steve ended things with you. You also tell her, about Steve admitting his feelings for you and the nap you two took together.

“I have so many questions, you don’t have any idea. What the hell are you going to do now?” She asks perplexed “About Steve or Pierce?” Doesn’t matter what she answers the answer is the same you don’t know.

“Both? But let’s start with Pierce.” She says simply taking a bite of her muffin “I don’t know, I had like a thousand of ideas but I don’t know if anyone of them is good or you know legal. I want to fire him, send him to work in the middle of nowhere…. I even thought about hiring you a hit man to take of him.”

You say serious, making her laugh “I am being serious, I mean he is an awful person.” You say pondering your options, you know that you don’t have the guts to kill anyone and that the guilty would end you but it was a good option.

“So what is stopping you?” She asks serious “Honestly? Steve, he said that he is working on it. I believe that he knows a lot more than he let on at least for now.” You say sincere, you trust Steve to deal with him but this involves you too. You just don’t know what is exactly.

“Do you think Pierce wants you? Like want, want you?” You are pretty sure that she is reading your mind because as much you don’t want to consider it this a possibility but you can’t deny that you thought about that.

“I don’t think he is doing all this because he wants me, that is so gross to say out loud…” You say taking a sip of your coffee trying to take the bad taste in your mouth “… But I do believe that he wants power and that I am the easiest way that he can get it.”

She runs his hand on your arm “That is really gross. You can never be alone with him again, you need to hire some security.” You hold her hand feeling how worried she is about you, you aren’t scared that he might hurt you. You know that he won’t, he needs your support to take over the company.

“I will, I just want to talk with, Steve first. I don’t want to do anything that can damage whatever he is working on.” You say trying to ease her mind “Talking about, Steve I am surprised that he is not here by your side.” She says with a cheeky smile, what a great way to change the subject.

“Why he would be here?” You ask, trying to figure it out where she wants to get it “I don’t know, maybe because he told you that he loves you? Or because you two slept in the same bed yesterday and your grandma trusted him enough to take care of the most two precious in her life? You and her company.”

She says sarcastic but you can tell how serious she was. It was a little scaring, especially because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stool her on this “Wan…. Don’t. He broke my heart in the past, doesn’t matter if was for a good cause, I don’t know if I can do that again. I want to have him in my life but maybe just as a friend?”

You say confused, you don’t know how to explain to her something that even you didn’t know all the details “Honey, sweetheart, bunny, cookie or any other pet name that you might want. Don’t do this with yourself; you are in love with him and you have been for months, why are you doing this with yourself?”

“Because I don’t know how I feel.” You say angry , running your hands thru your hair “ You don’t? You wear the bracelet that he gave you, every single day. When he broke up with you, you cried for a whole week, I know you since we were little kids and I never saw you cry for any boyfriend or fling in your life.”

She stares at you waiting for you to say something, when you don’t she continues to talk “I never saw you smile like the way when you were with him, I know that you afraid that he might hurt you again and I can’t guarantee that he won’t.”

“He loves you, and he does love you a lot. He dropped everything to make sure that you were alright when your grandma died, he knew that he could be fired if Pierce so you two in the funeral but he didn’t care. He was there for you, he stayed with you and cooked for you on the next day. Most of the guys are not like that, don’t let him go away because you are afraid.”

She says finishing her coffee, you never saw her like this. So angry and honest “You are right, I know that you are. There is part of me that wants to jump in his arms, every time I see him and there is other that wants to hide under the table.”

“Oh darling, you are going to be ok.” She says hugging you “And I want to be the bridesmaid on your wedding.’ She says playfully “And the godmother of my blonde, blue-eyed chubby baby.” You say in the same tone as her paying the bill.

“It is a deal, promise that you are going to talk with, Steve soon?” You nod, calling yourself an uber “I will, I have a meeting with Bucky like in half hour but then I am going to swing by his office.”

“Please no dirty sex in the office, I know that sounds like a great idea until someone catches you two.” She says coltish “Ok, mom. No PDA in the office.”  You say getting on your uber, going to the office “ Good luck, cookie.” She says going to her own job.

Part 7

The tags for this are still open, so if you want to be tagged just let me know.

Next week i might not post hard feelings depends if i go to the beach or not but i let you guys know.

And Please leave feedback, because i’m in love with this series and i want to know what you guys are thinking about it.

[janeykath318]

The Sulky Sailor

“There! You’re all ready to go rock that aisle and be the radiant bride that I knew you’d be!”

Having finished lacing up the back of the beautiful strapless wedding dress, you carefully circled the bride one last time to make sure every last inch was properly fitting. Carol Marcus looked absolutely stunning and you were quite relieved to see the alterations were completely successful and it fit just fine. Normally, you weren’t actually at a clients wedding, but Carol had specially asked you to be there to help get her into the dress, not wanting to risk damage to the delicate lace up fastening, which could be tricky for the inexperienced.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Carol said earnestly. “It’s a dream come true. I thought about this day this since I was a little girl and you’ve helped make me into a fairy tale princess.”

“That’s my goal!” You said cheerily. As the manager of Bea’s Bridal, you loved matching brides with that perfect gown and seeing the happy glow on their faces as they admired their reflection in the mirror. Carol was by far the most high profile client you’d ever had, being a renowned biologist as well as the daughter of an admiral.

You’d been stunned that she’d chosen your little shop to shop from, but Carol had confided she preferred the more personable and cozy atmosphere of Bea’s to the bigger upscale boutiques.

“You really have a wonderful selection given the size of the place,” she’d said. “I think I’ll find the perfect gown here.”

So, here you were, sitting in the back pew, tissue in hand to wipe away the tears as Carol made her triumphant entrance on the arm of Admiral Marcus. Peeking a look at the groom, you were pleased to see Captain Kirk’s famous blue eyes widen and visibly light up with joy at the sight of his bride. That was another reason you loved your job so much: hearing the stories of the groom’s reaction. You rarely got to see it in person like this and it was truly heartwarming.

The bridal party was rather large, consisting of seven bridesmaids and seven groomsman, all but one of whom were wearing dress uniforms like the groom. By process of elimination and scanning the program, you guessed the non-naval member was the Best Man, George Samuel Kirk, who was the groom’s brother. They were a fine looking group: the ladies clad in long seafoam green dresses and the gentleman looking sharp in their white uniforms. Was that another admiral among the groomsmen? A bit of squinting and program consulting confirmed it was: one Admiral Christopher Pike. Wow! Talk about friends in high places!

While James and Carol listened to the officiant’s exhortations, you found your eyes landing on the second groomsman from the center, a tall, square jawed man, who was stunningly handsome and broad shouldered, but wearing a very longsuffering expression, which darkened to a scowl occasionally.

What is his problem? You wondered. Way to wreck the aesthetic, dude! Such a shame. You’re hot, too.

You pondered over the grouchy hottie’s possible reasons for being a party pooper until the swish of satin skirts indicated that Carol was turning to face Jim for the vows. The light sparkled off the medals on his chest and the crystals on her gown and your hopeless romantic heart was in pure bliss as you watched them pledge their love to each other. A more stunning pair you didn’t think you’d ever see.

After the ceremony, you stuck around in order to congratulate the happy couple. Carol introduced you to Jim, who was very charming and friendly, and obviously smitten like crazy with her.

You were a little leery of the reception, given that you didn’t really know anyone, but decided a couple hours couldn’t hurt. After all, you didn’t have anywhere else to be. You did see some former clients among the guests and milled around chatting with them. The room was swarming with uniformed people and gloriously gowned ladies. It was a feast for the eyes, if nothing else.

You watched the bridal party introductions and noticed that every pair did something cute—except for the brown haired sulky man. He walked straight ahead with a determined expression while the woman on his arm smiled and waved to the crowd. He must be a total introvert, you decided. Probably hated big crowds.

In the excitement of the ceremonies and watching Kirk and Carol cut the glorious wedding cake, you didn’t notice someone coming up beside you until they spoke.

“So much fuss and bother. It’s ridiculous. By the time they finish paying it off, they’ll be celebrating their 20th anniversary, if they’re even still together.”

Shocked by this pessimistic statement, you turned and saw the Grumpy groomsman standing beside you, looking just as handsome and just as disgruntled as he had from afar. Your mouth went dry and you struggled to get words to come out. That frame….in that uniform….words weren’t enough to describe the splendor of it.

“Um, well, they’re both pretty important people, so a big wedding was kind of expected,” you ventured.

“Yeah. Jim likes to do things big, the egoist. It’s all a big racket. Who even has time to enjoy their special day with all the pomp and people to please?”

“I’d say the Captain and Mrs. Kirk are very much able to enjoy it,” you countered, smiling at the sight of the newlyweds feeding each other bites of cake.

“They’ll be totally exhausted after all this hullabaloo. I say, if you’re gonna jump into matrimony, just elope. Just think, you could buy a decent used car for the price of that fancy dress. It’s a big racket for people to make money off of.”

Now you were getting annoyed. He’d moved from sympathetic to downright jerk in the space of two minutes.

You put your hands on your hips and stared at him. He had murky hazel eyes and a mouth that was currently twisted in annoyance.

“No offense, Sailor, but you seem determined to spread your misery to everyone else! If you hate it that much why did you agree to be in the wedding?”

“I can never say no to Jim,” he sighed ruefully. “And the name’s Leonard McCoy, ma’am.”

“And I’m Y/N,” you told him. “You must be really close to Captain Kirk to put up with going through something you obviously dislike so much.”

He nodded.

“He’s my best friend. Couldn’t miss it, but That won’t stop me from ditching this place as soon as they’ve left.”

You heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Well, Leonard McCoy, since I don’t know hardly anyone here, I see it falls upon me to help you suffer through it. How can I help you lighten up a little so you don’t end up distressing the happy couple?”

He looked at you searchingly for a few minutes.

“Stick around and have a dance with me?” He suggested, a gleam appearing in his hazel eyes.

“Maybe,” you said coyly. “But you’re going to have to make it up to me for calling my passion a “racket.” I happen to run the shop where Carol and her bridesmaids bought their dresses. I assure you, she could not have bought a car with what she paid for that dress.”

Leonard flushed, realizing how his grumbling had sounded.

“Whoops. I made an ass out of myself again,” he said sheepishly. “When I get on a roll, my big mouth gets away from me. I may dislike weddings and romance, but that was wrong of me to talk bad about the whole industry. Forgive me?”

Your annoyance melted away at his genuine apology. The man may be cynical, but he did seem to recognize when he’d gone too far.

“Of course, but I’m curious, where did you get such a negative opinion on weddings?”

He looked off in the distance for a second.

“Let’s just say, personal experience. Mine was huge and elaborate and the marriage crashed and burned inside five years. My ex was what they call a bridezilla and it should have been a huge red flag, seeing her treat her friends and coordinators so horribly,  But no, I went through with it and lived to regret it.”

He took a sip of champagne as if to wash the bitter taste of the memory from his mouth.

“Oh, man. I’m sorry to hear that,” you sympathized. “I’ve dealt with difficult brides in the past, but that sounds really unpleasant. Much as I enjoy big weddings, they’re only supposed to be a celebration of the marriage, not put a strain on it.”

“Well, there was lots of stuff that ruined my marriage. I was so young and naive back then,” Leonard sighed. “She took everything I had in the divorce. Ended up joining the navy to get away from her reach.”

You winced. He really HAD had a bad time of it.

“So, what’s your specialty, Leonard?” You asked him.

“I’m a surgeon on the USS Enterprise,” he responded. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, wow. That’s Kirk’s ship isn’t it?”

“Yup. For better or worse.”

He proceeded to tell you all about shipboard life, his struggles with an irritatingly bold captain and extremely logical first officer, seasickness, and the first hand account of their defeat of the Narada. You were spellbound and when the dance floor was opened up to everybody, willingly took him up on his offer in order to keep up the conversation.

Leonard was a very good and quite funny narrator and the charming accent didn’t hurt. He danced like a dream as well and you were living in happy fantasyland while his strong arms were around you, steering you around the floor. Up close, his eyes were even more stunning and bored into yours intently, taking your breath away.

“So Tell me, Y/N, what got you into the business?” He asked.

“My great aunt Bea started the store forty years ago and when she saw I was also interested in bridal fashion, she took me under her wing, taught me a lot, and after I finished school, I started working there for her full time. She retired three years ago, and now I run the place. It’s so satisfying to see the look on a bride to be’s face when she finds The Dress. I live for those moments.”

His face softened.

“You’re doing what you love. I can respect that. You’ve certainly turned Carol into a downright belle.” You glanced over at the bride, who was currently held closely in her groom’s arms as they swayed together.

“That’s mostly happiness and her natural beauty, I think. But she did pick an extremely flattering style. I hope their happiness lasts for a lifetime.”

“Me too,” Leonard admitted. “Goodness knows they deserve it.”

The song ended and you looked up at the clock, shocked by how late it was.

“Uh-oh. Cinderella is about to turn into a pumpkin,” You said. “I should leave while I can still safely drive.”

“Not a night owl, are ya?” He teased.

“Nope. I can’t Last later than eleven unfortunately. Just the way I am. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you Leonard McCoy. You are really something else.”

You eyed him appreciatively and he smirked at you, a stunning amount of dimples appearing when he smiled. Your heart noticeably flip-flopped at the sight and you hated that you’d probably never see him again.

“Well thanks,” he said flirtatiously. “I must say, though, you’re pretty darn gorgeous yourself. Thanks for pulling me out of my sulk.”

“No problem. I didn’t want you to be sticking out like a sore thumb in their wedding photos.”

With a wink, you headed off to gather your things and say your goodbyes to Carol.

After Congratulations on your part and effusive thanks and a hug on hers, you waded through the sea of richly dressed people to sign the model of the Enterprise that stood there.

After you’d scrawled your name on the bow, you heard Leonard’s voice again.

“Hey, Y/N, Sorry If I’m being presumptive here, but I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.” He handed you a napkin upon which a phone number was written.

“You can pitch it if you want, but if you’d ever like to hang out sometime, I’ll be around for the next four months or so.”

He looked super nervous and unsure, which you thought was cute. Pulling a business card out of your purse, you scrawled your cell number on the back and handed it to him.

“I think I’d like that,” you smiled. “See you around, Leonard McCoy.”

Leonard stared after you, a gobsmacked expression on his face. He was venturing into long uncharted territory, but it was a risk he felt was worth taking. Jim would be proud.

@yourtropegirl

@taylorjacksonandtheolympians

@whatif-animagineblog

@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse

@mybullshitsensesaretingling

@outside-the-government

@medicatemedrmccoy

[myfictionalfavorites]

Last Days as a Day: Chapter 3

Since I am still unable to upload on FF.net, I’ve decided to post my newest chapter in my Secret Santa gift for @cecilia095​ right here.  If you haven’t read the first 2 chapters, I suggest doing so first here. 

This chapter finds Nick and Jess deciding on the date and location of their upcoming wedding.  If you are disappointed with recent spoilers we’ve received, I have a feeling you will like my version a little better 😉

Chapter 3: Later That Day

“To Nick and Jess, my best friend and my second best friend, getting married at long last!” toasted Schmidt, raising his glass.

“I’m third?” whispered Winston, looking dejected.

“Quiet, number four.”  Schmidt murmured, then louder,  “To Nick and Jess!”

“To Nick and Jess!” Everyone repeated.

“Thanks everyone!  I’m so glad we could all get together and celebrate.”  Jess beamed.  Nick had suggested that everyone go out to a nice restaurant (Winston had said anywhere was fine except Picca), but Jess insisted that she just wanted everyone to get together at the Griffin.  

“So let’s start planning!” Cece set her sparkling cider down.  “The baby is due Thanksgiving day, so are you thinking…Christmas wedding? Next spring? Summer?”

Jess and Nick silently exchanged knowing smiles.

Cece looked back and forth between them, confused. “Not next year?  What, this fall?  Oh my gosh I’m going to be a humungous bridesmaid...”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an problem, Cece,” giggled Jess.

Everyone stared at Nick and Jess, looking puzzled.  “Is Cece…not a bridesmaid?” asked Winston.

“I don’t think that’s the issue, Winston,” Aly narrowed her eyes and stared Nick and Jess down.  “When exactly is this wedding going to be?

Nick and Jess once again exchanged glances.  “Tell them!” Nick urged her with a grin.

“Next week.”  Jess took a drink, trying to look casual.

“Next week?!” rang out four voices in unison.

“Friday.” Jess added.

“Friday?!” Four voices again.

“Okay, you guys have got to stop doing that,” Nick complained.

“Not even I can plan a perfect wedding in nine days, you buffoons!” cried Schmidt.

“Isn’t that a little fast?” asked Cece.

“It’s not soon enough,” Nick stated, eyes never leaving Jess.

“Awwwww!”  Four voices in harmony.

“Seriously, stop.”  Nick moved his eyes from Jess’ in order to stare down them down.

“We want it to be really small and simple, but still have our best friends and immediate family there.  We figured that’s the absolute earliest we could do it but still have everyone make it.  We’ve already called my parents, Nick’s mom, and Coach.  They said they’re going to do everything they can do make it. “

“Hey, it’s early enough that I’m not showing yet so I’m in.” Cece joked.  “But seriously, I guess that means I’m in full matron of honor mode as of this minute!  So where’s this wedding going to be held?”

Jess looked at Nick.  “That’s the part we haven’t totally figured out yet.  We thought the loft would be perfect since that’s where we met and fell in love and all that-“

“But then you two thieves had to go and steal that idea,” Nick muttered under his breath gesturing to Schmidt and Cece.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry, Nick,” started Schmidt, seemingly genuine.  “You know, you could have been the first to use it, if it hadn’t taken you FIFTEEN THOUSAND YEARS TO FINALLY PROPOSE TO HER!”

“You’re a stinkin wedding thief and your hair looks absolutely preposterous right now!” Nick yelled back.

“It doesn’t matter!  It’s doesn’t matter!” Jess put both her hands up as if to hold back Nick and Schmidt, whose shouts were escalating.  This got the two of them to calm down, as Jess continued.  “We know we could do the loft, or even the roof was one idea we talked about, but I’ve been thinking about it more, Nick, and I do think I want a place that’s just for us, different from Cece and Schmidt.“

“No worries then, my bride, I’ve got another idea up my sleeve.” Nick reassured her.

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Jess was surprised.

“Well I thought you really wanted to get married in the loft, but now that I know that’s for sure off the table, I’ve got the perfectly back up spot for us.”  He took a drink.

Everyone stared expectantly at Nick.  He stared back.

“What?!” He scowled.

“Aren’t you going to tell us?” Aly urged.

“I’m not telling you all before I tell Jess first.” He answered back as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.  Everyone groaned.

Jess grabbed Nick’s arm and lugged him over to the other side of the bar, out of earshot of the rest of the gang.  “Spill, Miller!”

“Right now?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.  You ready?” He rubbed his hands together, clearly excited.   “The beach.” He revealed with a twinkle in his eye.

“The beach?” Jess paused for a moment to think. “Yeah…the beach could be nice.”  She pondered the idea some more.  “The beach.  Sure.  Let’s do the beach.” She nodded, smiling.

Nick studied her eyes for a moment, before looking down.  “That’s okay, Jess, you don’t have to say that.  You obviously don’t love the idea.”

“No, no, that’s not true!” Jess insisted.  “The beach sounds beautiful.  I guess I’ve never thought of myself as a beach wedding person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.  Especially if it’s important to you!  I’m good with it.  I promise.”

“It’s not that it’s important to me, it’s just a dumb idea I’ve had in my head for a little while now. “

“A little while now?” Jess questioned.  “Like how long are we talking?”

“You know, like five years.” He answered matter-of-factly with a shrug.

“Five years?  What happened five years ago to make you think of that?”

Nick looked back down again.  “That’s how long ago my cancer scare was, remember that?”  Jess nodded but stayed quiet.  They had never talked about that night ever since it happened, and Jess was stunned that he was actually bringing it up.

“Remember how everyone stayed on the beach all night, before the ultrasound?  The first part of that night is still super fuzzy since I was so high on those pain pills, but the first moment I can remember clearly is realizing you were laid out next to me, fast asleep.   You were using my coat as a pillow, and I was glad that I was must have been something of a gentlemen, even when completely wasted.”  He gave a small chuckle, and Jess smiled.  “I never slept the entire night.  I was terrified that I had cancer, that I was going to die.  I thought about my life, the things I had done so far, the things I wanted to do but was too afraid to.  Then I started listing all the things I would do if I really was sick, if I only had a few months to live.  Lots of ideas came to me.  Sky diving.  Eat my way out of a sandwich house.  Go sled dog riding.“ He looked up and made eye contact with her for the first time since starting his story.   “But you know what I decided was the number one, most important thing I wanted to do, Jess?”

“No.” The words left her lips as a whisper.

He continued staring right in her eyes, right into her soul.  “I wanted to marry you on that beach.  That’s what I wanted more than anything else.  I looked down at you asleep next to me, and thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.  You were kind, and warm, and sexy. I pictured the whole thing.  Me dressed in a suit.  You walking down the beach to me in a pretty white dress.  I wanted to marry someone I loved before I died.  I wanted to marry you.”  He cleared his throat and looked down again.  “I can’t believe I just told you that.  I never told anyone.”

“Nick.”  Her voice cracked.  “You already made me cry earlier today with your proposal; you’re not supposed to do it again!” She started wiping away the streaks that were trailing down her cheeks.

“Sorry, honey.”  He gave a small smile as he used his thumb to help clear away the tears.  They were quiet for a moment.  “But then I didn’t have cancer, and I went back to being typical Nick Miller, too afraid and too dumb to tell you how I really felt.  But I never forgot it.  I never forgot that image of you on the beach in a wedding dress.”

Jess cleared her throat.  “So get ready to see the real thing, Miller, because we’re doing it.”

“Jess, I promise I didn’t tell that story to make you feel bad or pressure you into changing your mind.  I want to get married wherever would make you the happiest.”

“Nothing would make me happier than making that idea a reality.  The beach it is.  No arguments, mister” She commanded with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am.  The beach it is.”  Nick repeated as he leaned in to capture her lips in his.

[tobns]

                              𝒮𝐸𝒱𝐸𝒩 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐸 𝒟𝐸𝒞𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

Jen disappears as quickly as she’d entered, my head falling back against the top of the couch and a sigh leaving my lips. I’ve been dreading this very moment for the last five and a half months, and it’s finally here.

The moment when the loneliness either ends, or really and truly begins.

                           "December days, with my heart like the weather:                                       Cold and unpredictable to me                                            Unpredictable to you..." 

                                                             . . .

                                                   ALEXANDER

“Now that the tour is finished, what’s next for you?”

The interviewer in front of me ever so slightly cocks an eyebrow as she smiles, thrusting her phone back in my direction to capture my answer. I find the gesture intrusive and relatively unprofessional; usually, regardless of the end result’s format, interviews are filmed, not treated as though they’re legal statements being gathered on the steps of a courthouse. Whatever qualm I have with how she does her job doesn’t slip through my façade. I simply rest my hand on top of my ankle, leaning back into the couch.

“Well, I’m headed back home,” I reply after I pretend to ponder her question, my response coming right off the pages of approved statements my publicist has provided me with for interviews. “Spend some time with my family, enjoy being on break.”

She beams, lowering the phone. “You certainly have earned yourself a break, Mr. Ludwig.”

My reminder is gentle in a last-ditch effort to make this whole encounter feel a little more casual than it has been. “It’s Alexander.”

“Right, Alexander,” she corrects. The phone is retracted, and she slides it open to stop the voice memo she’s been recording for the last three minutes. “Thank you so much for sitting down with me, and after your set at that. I know you’re probably eager to get going.”

Not really, I think. Try the exact opposite of that. Who schedules an interview after their concert is over, other than someone who’s trying desperately to delay the inevitable?

Her hand is outstretched, and it takes me a second to realize she’s waiting on me to take it. The handshake I give her is loose and noncommittal, but she doesn’t seem to make any note of it. Probably writing it off as fatigue now that I’m through with the biggest tour of my career, something that she’d deem understandable despite not understanding a single thing about it.

As she leaves my dressing room, escorted by security, I feel myself unravel a little as I slump back into the couch. Touring is not a lonely job, but it evokes a lot of lonely feelings, feelings that I’ve been treading in. As my tour manager, Jen, would tell me, I only do it to myself – I don’t actively try to remedy the loneliness, I just wallow around in it. She’d also tell me that I do a shit job picking my company when I decide that I need it, but I didn’t hire her to point out all of my flaws.

So much as think of the devil and she shall appear, as Jen’s head pops in the door the interviewer has just exited moments ago. “We’re rolling out in fifteen,” she informs me bluntly, her eyes only bothering to meet mine in one short glance. Maybe I’m hallucinating, but it seems like the bags underneath her eyes have grown darker in the last few hours. We’re paces away from reaching the light at the end of the tunnel that has been this tour, which for my team is an uninterrupted twelve-hour sleep in an actual bed.

Jen disappears as quickly as she’d entered, my head falling back against the top of the couch and a sigh leaving my lips. I’ve been dreading this very moment for the last five and a half months, and it’s finally here.

The moment when the loneliness either ends, or really and truly begins.

My dressing room is in total disarray, despite it only serving a purpose for a handful of hours. Water bottles, guitar picks, and spare backstage access lanyards (Jen picked up the habit of simply throwing them at me before each show since she wanted no part in what I’d do with them) are strewn about, three different pairs of shoes scattered across the room and my personal guitar resting up against the wall. I do my best to take my time cleaning up the mess I’ve apparently made – if they’d wanted faster results, Jen should have hired someone to pick up behind me – an anvil sinking lower and lower into my stomach with every step I take.

As I go to put my guitar back in its case, something glints up at me from the velvet lining. The immediate instinct is to slam my guitar down on top of it, close the case, and hand it off to Dayo so I don’t have that blood on my hands. I instead find myself frozen, staring down at a reminder and a death sentence all in one for what feels like an eternity.

The door opens from behind me, Dayo’s voice breaking me from whatever dark reverie I’d fallen prey to. “Dude, you ready to go or what? Jen’s about two minutes away from leaving your ass to hitchhike.”

I turn my head, somewhat startled by the interruption. “Yeah,” I reply, blinking a few times as I come back to. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Before I’ve got time to regret it, I grab the ring out of the guitar case and shove it in the back pocket of my jeans. My guitar goes back into the case, and I slam the lid shut, flipping the locks on it before passing it to Dayo.

“I’m your security,” he laments with an eye roll. “Not a bag lady.”

“Coulda fooled me,” I tease him, lips curling back into a toothy grin as I pass through the doorway in front of him.

Everything has thinned out, very few people left to bump into on my way out to the venue’s garage. True to Dayo’s word, Jen is waiting impatiently by the bus door, arms folded over her chest as she glares at me. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were late to your own damn funeral,” she tells me, voice scathing. I roll my eyes as I brush past her, pulling the handle on the door open.

“Lucky for you, you’re rid of me the minute we get back to New York.”

I board the bus with Jen and Dayo right on my heels. I’ve accidentally left the television on in the living area, the low sounds of the The Hurt Locker menu screen humming throughout the room. It goes ignored as I beeline to the backroom, not in the mood to deal with Jen now that she’s clearly on the downhill slope or to attempt to conjure small talk with Dayo. Neither of them follow me either, leaving me be. The two of them know, I’m sure, what my own mood’s decline is attributed to.

I sit from the couch opposite my bed, forehead pressed against the glass as the bus stirs to life and I watch Nashville grow farther and farther out of my sight. The lights outside are dimmed by the dark tint of the window, white line dividers rolling underneath the bus in a film reel that stretches for miles and miles and has only one ending in sight – not the happily ever after kind either, I’m sure. Jen and Dayo’s voices are nothing but murmurs, background noise as they discuss god only knows what without me and pierce the bubble of silence surrounding me. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Jen’s more than ready to be relieved of her Alexander duties. Dayo, unfortunately, never gets a break.

On the windowsill, I spot my phone lighting up with a new notification. Picking it up and tilting it in my direction, I can see it’s an email notification from Mark, more than likely a group email with thanks he forgot to hand out and a few post-tour reminders. Post-tour. It’s a chalky pill to try and swallow down as is; add in the dry mouth the thought of tour’s ending continually gives me and my body’s rejection can’t get much more black and white.

The background of my phone strikes a chord of pain down through my heartstrings, and I instantly feel bad for having dreaded this moment for days, weeks, even months. I keep trying to force the pill down my throat that it is back to reality for me as I unlock my phone, tapping on the message app.

It takes a few moments to formulate words, and it takes a few more moments after that to pick and choose which of those words will give me the least amount of grief.

ME: I’ll be home tomorrow.

There’s no response, but I’d only be setting myself up to be severely disappointed if I expected otherwise.

                                                        ISABELLE

I genuinely do not know which is more taxing, chasing after a six-year-old or chasing after Jack Quaid, both of whom are hopped up on a sugar high.

“Jackie, can you please come collect your fiancé?” I beg, leaning up against the kitchen counter as the heels of my hands drag down the side of my face. “I can barely handle my own child, much less when yours decides to join in and encourage bad behavior.”

Red hair slices through the air as my best friend tears her sight away from the laptop where her recipe is pulled up to shoot me a look riddled in exasperation. “Honey, don’t you think if there was a way to control him, I would have figured it out before I let him put a ring on my finger?”

I’ve known Jackie since my freshman year of college – we were roommates at Columbia, product of the one good stroke of luck I’ve ever had in my life. I’d been a bit apprehensive about letting the randomizer pick for me after I’d gotten my building assignment in Furnald (there are no two-in-a-row miracles, I have since learned) and discovered I’d gotten a double, but it worked out better than I ever could have hoped. We were each other’s lifelines at school, both not knowing a single soul in the city. Jackie and I were thick as thieves by the time the second week of classes had ended, and we were going home with one another once fall break rolled around. She’s been my best friend ever since; roommates every single year until I got married, a bridesmaid at my wedding, the godmother to my child, and the source of all my sanity, Jackie is the person I cannot imagine my life without.

Jack, her fiancé, is an entirely different story. We didn’t meet him until we were sophomores and he was a junior, living four doors down from us. He was also the only person on our hall who understood statistics, meaning that we practically lived in his room so he could keep us from falling prey to mental breakdowns and try to make sense of what may as well have been another language. He’d seen us at our breaking points, and that sort of bonding pretty much solidified our friendship with him. He and Jackie didn’t start dating until she was a senior, despite me telling her over Christmas break sophomore year that they were meant for one another. While I consider him something like an older brother, Jack I’m sure I could live without, especially on the days when he does nothing but exacerbate my child when she’s hyper.

“It’s not too late to take it back,” I offer up hopefully. “I can retract my blessing.” Jack had been very diligent before proposing, making sure he had both Jackie’s dad and my blessing before he got down on one knee. The gesture was sweet, but it’s moments like these that plant tiny seeds of regret.

Jackie snorts, rolling her eyes. “Over his dead body.”

“That can be arranged too.”

She goes back to the mixing bowl, index finger trailing down the screen of the laptop to figure out what ingredient goes next in her fourth batch of cookies. “Just take a breath, Iz, you aren’t gonna have to deal with either of them for much longer. I’m the one who’s gonna have to put up with the sugar high and the subsequent crash.”

“And I get the alternative,” I mutter, glancing down at my fingernails.

The mood around us quickly shifts, Jackie's voice dropping a little as she speaks. “What time is that arriving?”

I shrug. “Dunno. Sometime this afternoon, I didn’t get a specific time of when the plane landed.” Looking past Jackie, my eyes flit over the digital clock on top of the oven before falling back down towards the floor. “Any minute now, I guess.”  

Jackie sets down the measuring cup with a dull thud, both hands flat on the surface of the counter as she turns to look at me. “Are you sure you don’t want me or Jack to stay with you?” she asks solemnly. “Or you can just leave with us; I can dump this in the trash, we’ll get out of here before he even hits the city limits, won’t be the wiser.”

I shake my head, still avoiding her gaze and focused intently on the hardwood's pattern. “No, it’s okay. There’s not much more avoiding to be done at this point.”

One of her hands leaves the counter, resting on my shoulder lightly. “It’s gonna be okay, Belly,” she tries to reassure me, a hopeful glimmer of a smile on her face when I dare to look up.

Forcing my lips up into a grin, the only optimism that I can conjure up to appease Jackie cheap and plastic. “Yeah, it’ll be alright.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince either her or myself with this statement, but I do a terrible job of selling it regardless.

“It will be,” Jackie repeats. “But, we said we weren’t gonna dwell on it until it literally lands on the doorstep. Now hop in here and help me resume your stress baking.”  

I’d known that this day was lurking on the horizon for weeks now, the anxiety building with every passing mark on the calendar. Me trying to be proactive, I had put Jackie and Jack on reserve for today, knowing that their company would be the only thing preventing me from flying off the handle – Jack could entertain my kid (logic that I’m now starting to question) and Jackie could keep me occupied until there was no more avoiding the inevitable. The stress baking, however, had started somewhere around four am when I concluded that sleep was simply not a possibility and a person could only stare at the ceiling for so long before driving themselves out of their mind. I needed to keep myself busy. If I was busy, then I wasn’t thinking, and not thinking is a lot safer when it comes to certain things in my world.  

Jackie had been all too happy to team up with me in the kitchen, and Jack had been all too thrilled to start taste-testing.

Taking over for Jackie at the mixing bowl, I feel a little bit better once I put my hands back to work. Jackie goes back over to oven where our most recent batch of brownies is baking, pulling them out to stab a toothpick through the center. We’ve really outdone Betty Crocker, clearing through several batches of cookies, brownies, cupcakes, and anything else that I have the ingredients for. The only thing we didn’t make was lunch, putting Jack to work and sending him to go pick up our takeout order.

For the most part, the kitchen is quiet, save for the occasional noise coming from the other room every so often. Jackie and I just orbit around one another wordlessly as we work. There’s never been much need for words when the two of us are around one another, seeing as how we’re usually on the same wavelength. Entire conversations have been had before just in our locked eyes alone.

I’m scooping out vanilla chai sugar cookie dough from the bowl with a tablespoon and transferring it over to the same cookie sheet I’ve been using for the last few hours when our kitchen’s bubble of silence is pierced. The sounds of laughter grow louder, footsteps heavy and rapid as they approach.

“Momma, momma!” Like a stray bullet, my six-year-old daughter comes careening through the kitchen with Jack hot on her heels, dark hair fanning out behind her and the ribbons I’d tied in her French braid pigtails already unfurling down her back. She bulldozes straight into my legs, giggling as she positions herself so I’m now standing between her and Jack. Jack has absolutely no interest in going through me to get to her; if anything, he’s only chased her in here so he can swipe another one of the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies that haven’t been out of the oven for twenty minutes yet.

“What, baby?” I ask, giving Jack a look. He simply shrugs, wicked grin snapping onto his face when he spots a small head peeking around my waist. She erupts into another fit of laughs. “Have you not worn Uncle Jack out yet?”

“Of course not,” Jack finishes for her. “There are no quitters; I just came in here to get a little recharge.” As though he’s trying to prove his point, he takes a large bite out of the cookie. His eyebrows raise in question. “What about you, Noelle? Tired yet?” he sings.

I swivel my head around so I can get a glimpse of her, still hiding behind me. “Nuh-uh,” she replies, both rows of teeth bared as she grins. Just looking at the smile on her face is enough to ease my nerves a little, a wave of serenity brushing over me for a split second. Noelle has always been the eye of any storm I find myself trudging through – all I need is one look at the little girl with freckles splattered across her cheeks, minty eyes and a straggled grin that calls me Momma and there’s nothing in this world that can get under my skin.

“I thought you still had a nap time,” Jack muses teasingly, giving Noelle a look as he continues finishing off his cookie. A shrill noise of outrage comes from behind me, and when I look down, I see that she’s got her tongue stuck out.

“Nuh-uh!” she repeats, much more insistently this time. “I’m a big girl now, Uncle Jack.”

He nods slowly. “Right, ‘course you are.”

“Uncle Jack’s just jealous that he doesn’t get cookie dough,” Jackie interjects, moving closer to me and Noelle with her hand extended, a ball of cookie dough that she swiped most likely for herself out of my mixing bowl while I wasn’t looking pinched between her thumb and index finger.

Noelle’s eyes light up as she quickly looks at me for approval, and my lips inch into a smile as I give her the slight nod of my head. The only thing that could possibly make me happier than seeing my own child happy is seeing Jack sulk in the corner at the traitorous actions of his fiancé.

Naming Jackie and Jack as Noelle’s godparents was one of the decisions I've had to make that required no second thought. They’ve always adored her like she was their own flesh and blood, and ever since Jackie found out a few years ago that children of her own will never be a possibility, they pour all the love (and money) they have right into Noelle. It's certainly a reciprocated feeling; Noelle simply cannot get enough of her godparents, and having them around more frequently over the past couple of months has been like celebrating Christmas every single day for her.

“That good?” I ask her, and she nods eagerly. “I bet Aunt Jackie could use your help putting the rest of them in the oven if you asked her.” Jackie beams at the sound of her name, her eyebrows lifting in invitation.

There’s suddenly a knock at the door, an unfortunate interruption to a happy moment that echoes out into the silence that suddenly floods the room. Jackie, Jack, and I all exchange similar glances – it’s a death omen if we’ve ever heard one, and we’re all about to face our executioner.

Noelle untangles herself from my legs faster than I have time to comprehend and catch her. The words to call her back die in the back of my throat, because I know that she knows who’s standing on the other side of the door, and stopping her is futile. All Jackie can do is squeeze my wrist in a show of succor.

My eyes are already burning, heartbeat taking off like a helicopter inside of my chest. I hear the door open, the sound of bags dropping on the ground as Noelle’s delighted shriek rings out through my apartment.

“Hi daddy!”

[join-the-joywrite]

Women in War -- 4

All Maggie Maravillla ever wanted was to help people. She never imagined losing damn near everything when winning a war.

WiW masterpost

Chapter 4

They could not deny her this time. She would pass every exam with the highest marks and she would perform perfect demonstrations. They could not fail her no matter how hard they may try. Maggie was determined to graduate by the end of the academic year.

"MAGGIE!"

Maggie was so startled by the screaming and the banging on her dorm room door, she quite nearly fell off her bed. Furiously, she stormed to the door and threw it open. She glared at the brunette that fell into the dorm they had once shared. Becky stood up quickly and fixed her shirt back into her powder blue skirt.

"Maggie, oh thank goodness you're up, I really need to talk to you."

"I was asleep," Maggie growled, closing the door again.

"Oh. Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, love."

Maggie sighed and pushed her hair back. "What did you want, Beck?"

"Remember when I said some choices we had to make on our own?"

"Yeah," Maggie said slowly.

"Well, it was all bullshit and I'm sorry I never gave you all the help you need. Please help me."

Maggie frowned as she sat down on her bed, tucking one leg under her. "What happened, Becks?"

"I went back to work yesterday and, um, and Edwards called me to his office. Pegs was in there too. He gave me this envelope, a proposal. He said he'd spoken to Pegs the day we left for New York. She said she spoke to Freddie about it and they decided not to take the offer. I don't know if I should, though. I want to stay here, with you and Pegs but . . . I kind of want to go too."

"Beck."

"Hm?"

"What was in the envelope?"

"Huh? Oh! It's a proposal from the SOE, the Special Operations Exevutive. It's a new war division spearheaded by Churchill. Anyway, it's to be trained in irregular warfare, espionage, sabotage, guerilla tactics--"

"A field agent?" Maggie asked. She knew those tactics -- in theory. Several of her patients these days were field agents sent home after injuries too serious to stay on the field.

"Yes."

"They don't send women into the field, though."

"Resistance networks all over Europe need people who won't draw attention walking down the street. They need women and they're recruiting Pegs and me. Part of me wants to go, but not alone. I want to persuade Peggy to accept, but I can't force her to do something that would jeopardize her happy love story, you know? I don't know what to do, Mags."

Maggie pondered the matter for a moment before getting up and walking to her desk. Becky watched curiously as Maggie lifted her jacket from the back of the chair and dug in one of the pockets. She walked up to Becky and took her hand. Holding Becky's gaze, she pressed the quarter into Becky's palm. "Your brother gave it to me when I needed to make a choice. Give it a flip. And if you choose wrong, maybe the universe will conspire to throw you onto the other track."

Becky smiled. "You're an asshole."

"Puta." Maggie countered, smiling back, "look, this is a great opportunity. I mean, you're American and they still want you. Someone must've praised you quite a bit. But if you don't take the job, there's nothing wrong with that. You're allowed to choose what you want, no matter what anyone else says about it. And no matter who flips their mierda, it's okay to make mistakes."

"Thanks, Maggie. I'll think about it. Will I be seeing you at Peggy's wedding this weekend?"

"Of course. I even have my dress picked out."

"The yellow and white one?"

"Sí. It's my favourite. What are you wearing?"

"Royal blue, remember? I'm her bridesmaid."

"Right. You know something I just realised?"

"What?" Becky asked, looking up from the purse she had slipped the quarter into.

"I never asked Howard how he knew Peggy. Do you think he knows her well enough to be invited to her wedding?"

"I doubt it," Becky said, scrunching up her nose, "remember, she's never mentioned him. Howard is rich and in many places he shouldn't be in. Maybe he's noticed Peggy and he's the one that recommended her."

"Or maybe he recommended you and knows Peggy's name because he got his hands on a list of possible new field agents."

Becky shrugged.

"Look at us, discussing Howard's involvement in a British war division. Anyway, maybe you should write to Buck about this proposal? See what he has to say?"

"Yeah, maybe. Listen, Peggy and I are going out for drinks tonight, once she's done fitting her dress with her mother. Care to join us?"

"I would love to, but I've got to work harder than ever before if I'm going to make it this year."

"Understandable. I'll tell Peggy you said hi."

There was a knock on the door. "Urgent mail for Crystal Maravilla!"

Maggie groaned and pulled a robe over her nightdress before opening the door. "Yes? Oh, hello Jude."

The young man smiled. "Hi, Crystal. I ran into a friend of yours on the way to from the letterboxes downstairs. She asked to give you these urgently."

"Thank you, Jude," Maggie said with a smile as she took two envelopes.

"Say, Crystal, you--"

"I'm in desperate need of a bath, Jude. Perhaps I'll see you in the halls for lunch? Goodbye!"

Once she'd closed the door again, Maggie grumbled something about Jude under her breath and tossed the robe onto the bed. "I hate him. So much."

"All he ever does is call you by your first name," Becky said with a smile, "he's cute. Why do you keep saying no?"

"If he can't even stick to calling me what I ask him to, the relationship will be absolutely horrible. No thank you." Maggie glanced down at the envelopes. "This one's for you, actually."

Maggie passed the envelope to Becky as she tore hers open. Becky had just opened the envelope when Maggie gasped.

"Oh, Michael. . ."

"What? What happened to him?"

"He . . . he's dead, Becks. Michael's dead. It says he was killed in action. Oh, we have to go see Peggy! Now!"

"She's gone."

Maggie dropped her coat. "What?"

"Or she will be." Becky showed Maggie the small square of paper, folded down the middle.

I'm taking the job. Meet me at the station near Bletchley Park if you're going to join me.

Maggie slowly looked from the paper to Becky. "We have to get you packed," Maggie said, already knowing what Becky was thinking, "ahora mismo."

///////////////

For Maggie, life went on as per usual. She worked hard, studied hard, and was declined the jobs she so desperately wanted. Her professors recognised her talent, eventually. Some wrote her letters of recommendation. Hospitals would not hire her as a doctor. Some offered her positions as a nurse. She already had one of those. She wanted to be called Dr Maravilla outside of the college. They never said, but she knew it was because patients did not want to he treated by someone who did not look like them. By July, she'd been offered to take over from one of her professors.

Resigned, Maggie accepted the position and kept her job as a nurse on the side. She lectured brilliantly and students passed her subjects with flying colours. Many took the class to be taught by Dr Maravilla. Some of them inadvertently learned Maggie's own language, but only the curses she dropped in class.

By November, Maggie's timetable was completely full. She lectured for her subject and tutored several students for other medical related subjects, some of which she learned just to teach. Her free time was occupied with her nursing job. She barely had time for friends, let alone the love life the Barnes family and her father kept asking about in their letters. Despite the hectic schedule, Maggie always made time to read their letters and write her own back.

It was later in November, as she was finishing up one of her shifts in the hospital, when Maggie saw her two best friends again, though not in the way she would have liked.

"Get me Dr Maravilla!"

"Ma'am, there isn't--"

"I know she's here! I know she's working this shift as a nurse when she should be a supervising doctor. Find out where Dr Maravilla is or so help me God, I will shoot up this whole hospital!"

"Margaret Elizabeth Carter!" Maggie screeched, dropping everything she held and rushing to the frantic woman. "Put that pistol away!"

"Maggie! Oh, Maggie, we need you in there."

Maggie didn't have much of a choice when Peggy grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the frazzled receptionist and into one of the rooms. "Peg, you can't-- I don't have my uniform on anymore "

Peggy pointed at the doctor in the room. "Give her your scrubs. Now."

"Peggy! What are you doing?!" Shocked by Peggy's bizarre behaviour, Maggie ignored everyone in the room and grabbed Peggy by her elbows. She gave the younger woman one hard shake. "Peggy! Look at me! What -- oh, honey, what happened?"

Now clearly staring at Peggy, she noticed how distant Peggy was, how her thoughts were clearly all over the place, how frazzled and uncertain Peggy was.

"Peggy, doll, what happened?" Though her voice was soft and her eyes kind, her tone was hard and demanding.

"Beck --"  Peggy hiccupped. "She--"

Peggy turned to the hospital bed and that's when Maggie turned to look for the first time at the patient. Maggie screamed.

"Becky!"

She pushed the doctor out of the way and took over without stopping to ask or inform. Peggy stood alone in the hospital room as Maggie walked with the unconscious Becky on her gurney, shouting orders to the doctors and nurses too afraid not to listen.

"Oh, Maggie, please do something."

Fifteen hours later, Maggie knelt beside the chair Peggy had fallen asleep in. "Peg, she's waking up."

Peggy bolted upright. "Already? How long has it been?"

Maggie shrugged. "Fourteen hours of surgery, and one hour with the anaesthetist to slowly ease off the drugs. I thought you should be there when she wakes up, seeing as you were there when . . . what exactly happened?"

As they walked to the ward, Peggy relayed the story, handing out as much detail as her job allowed. "We were escorting our target out of the building and the guards opened fire on the squad. The target was top priority, and Beck and I are top agents, so that meant he was our priority. We got him out okay, but Beck took a really bad hit. We escaped, but the border guards opened fire on the truck. I told her not to but you know her. She wouldn't listen. She leaned out for better aim and . . . and they shot her. I haven't sent a letter to her family and I haven't let our squad leader do it either. I had hoped you'd be able to do something so we wouldn't have to send that letter."

Maggie opened the door for Peggy. "I'll send a letter," she said as her only response, followed by a slow nod. "I have a lecture now, but I'll be back after. Let Becky know, all right?"

"Thank you, Mags."

When Maggie returned to the spot where she had dropped her things, her keys sat without her nurse's uniform and without her access card. She hadn't been thinking when she took over from the doctor, but she knew that she wouldn't have done a thing differently if she had been thinking.

Becky was her best friend, her sister, and the woman who protected her when they were kids. Why should she stand back and let someone else help Becky when she knew she was the most capable person in the room?

"Wendy, where are my things?" she asked, even though she knew what had happened.

"Dr Stenham fired you on the spot when he heard what had happened," Wendy said apologetically, "he couldn't pull you out of the surgery, but believe me, he wanted nothing more. He's sent your uniform back to storage and . . . he shredded the access card."

Maggie's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Shredded?"

"Mhm. I kept your keys with me or I'm sure he'd have done something with them, too."

"Thanks, Wendy. I'm sorry about Peggy earlier."

"It's quite all right." Wendy smiled and threw Maggie a wink. "Dr Maravilla."

///////////////

Maggie tossed the car keys on the desk. "I won't be needing the car for a while, Dr Martin."

The elderly lecturer lifted his head. "What happened, dear?"

"I got fired from the hospital for taking over a surgery. Personally, I think it's because I kicked Harold Bennet to the side and Dr Stenham thinks the sun rises out of the guy's ass. He's been looking for grounds to fire me ever since. Thank you for letting me use the car between here and the hospital."

Dr Martin, the retired lecturer, now dean of the faculty, thought for a moment. Then he leaned forward and pushed the keys to the end of the desk. "Consider it a gift, dear. You can't stay in the shadows all your life and though what you've done may be frowned upon by everyone else, I've never been prouder of my most dedicated and talented student."

"Doctor, I can't keep--"

"Yes, you can. Now, don't you have a class to teach . . . doctor?"

prev || next

WiW masterpost

[smutmylifeup]

Out Of The Office (But In The Office) Drama: Soft As A Domo Plushie.

Roleplayed with @whatdoyouexpectthistime 

MJS: @hifftn @smile-smile-ichthys @whatdoyouexpectthistime @nitelotus

MJS was slowly but surely getting back to normal. Rose and H went back to the date scenarios with their clients but with the new rules put in place that were created by Takao and H. Jazz watched Miho like a hawk, even though the danger had passed. And Miho was almost back to her usual self now that Goto was back off his undercover work.

All was well.

For Rose, she was still at war with herself at this current moment. She was stood by the doors at the MJS offices waiting for Ryosuke to arrive so they could go out for lunch but she wanted to introduce him to the girls first.

With all the bad things that had happened recently and the very protective person Rose was, she stayed close to MJS and the girls. They needed each other in that time. But that meant she hadn’t seen Ryosuke since their Mario Kart date. And that was almost a week ago.

They spoke everyday on the phone, but it wasn’t the same.

She wondered several times if it was too soon to bring a stranger into MJS. Although he wasn’t a complete stranger – Jazz had met him at least. BUT she really wanted Miho and H to meet him.

“Akane!”

Ryosuke smiled as he walked through the doors snapping Rose out of her conflicted feelings.

He was here now, there was no going back.

The nerves of upsetting someone or causing a problem were really real. This was worse than when Rose first met Miho and Kyobashi forgot to mention that it was a job interview. God, she was still annoyed about that but she got the job and she enjoyed it. And she got to meet some great people. But a little heads up would have been nice.

She knew Miho wouldn’t be mad, she’d made it clear she was going to meet him whether Rose let her or not. But was it too soon?

“Hey you.”

Rose hugged Ryosuke and her worries seemed to simmer away. His presence made her feel calm and safe.

“Ready for lunch?”

He hugged her in return and his smile when they parted was so heart-warming, Rose nearly forgot why she was nervous in the first place.

All these new feelings were odd.

“Mm. But first I want you to meet everyone. You cool with that?”

Part of Rose wanted him to say he wasn’t but she knew him well enough to know that even if he was insanely uncomfortable he wouldn’t utter a word. He was so selfless in that way.

“Y-Yeah.”

The stutter of his voice made he clear he was nervous about it too.

“Kay. Let’s go then.”

Rose leaded Ryosuke down the halls. She popped her head into Jazz’s office but neither her nor H were in there. She asked Izumi where they were but he told her that they’d already gone out for lunch. He nodded and said Miho was still in her office.

Well she could introduce them all properly another time.

“Miho can be very forward. And she loves teasing people – but she’s really nice.”

Rose warned as she stood in front of Miho’s office door.

“O-Okay.”

Here goes – Rose said to herself before she opened the door.

“Hey Miho, I have someone I want you to meet.”  

Rose sighed.

“Seriously? I’ve been gone less than five minutes and you are already dry humping,” Rose glared. “On my chair.”

Goto sat in Rose’s usual chair opposite Miho’s desk and Miho sat sideway in his lap, her arms draped around his neck. Neither were quick to part. Miho wasn’t the least bit affected by Rose’s reappearance, but Goto on the other hand was a little more blushed – possibly for more than one reason.

“Well, normally people knock and wait for permission before entering my office,” Miho smiled easily, waiting a few seconds longer before standing and straightening her dress.

Goto’s expression smoothed over and he managed a nod for Rose, then turned his gaze to the unnamed name with her. He was, in his uniform, perhaps on his way to the academy, but it had become a bit of a ritual since the whole business with Daisetsu, to drop her off at the office in the morning if he was able - this was, however, the first time they’d been caught in a compromising position.

“So who’s the cutie?” Miho enquired, leaning back against her desk, while Goto stood and turned also to better scrutinise the newcomer.

Rose smiled a little, calling him a cutie was a good start. Hopefully this will go well.

“I'm, I'm Inui, Ryosuke.”

He stepped forward into the room and bowed until his torso was completely horizontal.

“Ryo is my childhood friend.”

Rose continued, but Ryosuke was still hunched into a bow and she had to nudge him to straighten when he started to border on awkward rather than respectful and polite. And nervously he did so.

“Ryo huh?” Miho grinned - that I could totally eat a man alive grin, and she approached Inui until she was standing right in front. “So I suppose you’re the one I go to for all the childhood dirt on Rose?”

Maybe Rose hadn’t meant for Miho to think of that - but she had - though she could tell given the bowing and the awkwardness, that getting the guy to talk candidly might be a bit of a challenge.

Meanwhile, Goto watched Miho do her thing, that silent stoicism the betrayed nothing of the thoughts running through his head. If he was bothered by the way Miho instantly adopted the very familiar name for Rose’s friend, it was certainly not evident.

“I think you'd be more likely to get dirt out of me than him. He knows I'll floor him if he breathes a word.”

Rose gave Ryosuke a side smirk that was jokingly threatening. And Ryosuke chuckled nervously and bent backwards as if he was trying to move away from Miho without actually taking a step back.

Rose had forgotten he'd never had a girlfriend, so being around a woman, especially one like Miho - beautiful, intelligent and a total tease would probably make his brain implode.

Poor puppy.

“Y-yeah I'd, um prefer to not have my face smooshed into the floor! It hurts too! She's so strong despite how little she is!”

Rose clicked her tongue - her usual warning of ‘say anything else and I'll make you wish you didn't know how to speak’ making Ryosuke bite his lip to stop him from nervously jabbering on.

“I see, so, she’s already thrown you down huh?” Miho beamed, cutting her gaze to Rose for just a split second before looking back to Inui.

But perhaps to save him from having to answer that - and clarify the context in which he was thrown down - she continued to speak.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ryo,” she said, her tone sliding back toward pleasant, rather than teasing. “This is my fiance, Lieutenant Goto Seiji.”

As prompted, Goto inclined his head, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t really feel the need at this point. Perhaps he was laying on the scary a little thicker than usual on account of how he and Miho had been discovered.

Ryosuke made an audible gulp and Rose presumed it was at the intensity of Goto’s presence as well as his authority.

“It's, n-nice to meet you, Sir.”

He bowed again and his body seemed to be as tense as a board. And Rose felt kind of guilty.

“Don’t mind him too much,” Rose interrupted and stepped closer to Ryosuke. “He’s as soft as a Domo plushie really.”

Rose stared at Goto completely deadpan. While they were by no means ‘best friends’, he was Miho’s soon to be husband. And it was hard to tease Miho since she was the teasing queen herself. He was the next best thing. And she'd seen so many sides to him within the time she'd been at MJS. Sides that weren't scary in the slightest.

However, even with Rose’s comment Ryosuke was still visibly intimidated.

“Soft,” Goto repeated, as if considering the word carefully, sliding her gaze from Rose to Inui, then back again. “That is the kind of man you like?”

Perhaps Goto had been taking comeback lessons from Miho?

“I suppose that is okay,” he went on, maybe allowing some of the intimidation slip - just a little. “So long as he knows if he doesn’t treat you well…”

And then the bastard left that sentence hanging. Luckily, Miho swooped in to the rescue… sort of… yeah she and Goto are just as bad as each other.

“... I’ll do a whole lot more than kick your ass,” she declared, but she was grinning.

“Okay, Mum and Dad you can stop with the scare tactics now.”

Rose sassed back but she was smiling too. But she wasn't quite sure what they meant by ‘treat her well’ but she didn't ponder on it too much when she looked at Ryosuke.

She was pretty sure he stopped breathing.

“Hey, they're joking.”

She touched his arm and he seemed to jump out of his skin but relaxed slightly when he looked at her smiling face.

“I, I know,” he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed a little. “They're just an intimidating pair. A match made in heaven. Congratulations on your engagement.”

Ryosuke turned to Miho and gave a smaller and more familiar bow and then nodded his head towards Goto but decided that wasn't polite enough and also gave a small bow as well.

“So adorable,” Miho chuckled, giving Goto’s arm a squeeze. “Oh, Rose you still don’t have a date for the wedding right?”

Yeah she wasn’t done quite yet.

“You should definitely bring Ryo. I bet he’d look absolutely stunning in a three piece suit.”

“S-stunning?”

Ryosuke stuttered out.

“You're right,” Rose turned back to Ryosuke and nudged him. “You wanna come to their wedding with me?”

Rose watched him as he looked at her, then Miho and Goto. He looked like he was about to turn down the invitation.

“Actually, you don't have a choice. If I have to be bridesmaid I definitely need you there to distract me from being paired with a groomsman that just has to be Goto’s brother and,” Rose’s body seemed to shiver, “and the fact I’ll be in a damn dress.”

“I'll be there.”

Ryosuke said barely letting Rose finish her sentence. His voice came out strong and loud. It was odd, it was like he wasn't a cowering, sweating mess anymore. He still was though.

“Wait, really?”

Rose cocked her head and looked at him. She was almost positive he'd be all ‘are you sure it's alright’ for at least two minutes before he said yes.

“Yeah, I...”

Now he was stuttering over his words again and his cheeks began to change from white to pink. “I know what happens between the groomsmen and the bridesmaids.”

At this, Miho laughed.

“It’s true, the Goto brothers are pretty slick,” she asserted. “Better to be safe than sorry, right Ryo?”

Rose looked between Ryosuke and Miho like she wasn't part of the inside joke. She wasn't naive, she knew what happened between groomsmen and bridesmaids but Issei wasn't her type or better yet Rose wasn't his type. Plus it was Goto’s brother and somehow it just seemed weird.

“Y-yeah!”

He agreed, a little bashful that Miho seemed to read the underlying message of his comment.

“Yeah, well with the line of groomsmen I'd rather go home with one of the bridesmaids.”

Rose shrugged.

“What?!”

Ryosuke screeched making dogs in a five mile radius begin to howl. His skin was already pink but now it was red.

He was going to pass out before they make it to lunch.

Miho let out a sigh, un-attaching herself from Goto’s arm - this time it was a little closer to Rose that she moved.

“Luckily,” she smiled, giving Rose’s cheek a light pat as she looked to Inui, “you can go home with him instead.”

Rose stared at Miho. And Ryosuke seemed to begin choking on air as he spluttered out a coughing fit.

Of course she'd go home with Ryosuke, she wouldn't invite him to a wedding and then take someone she hadn't come with home. Miho was still smiling at Rose as Ryosuke was practically dying next to them. It was as if she was trying to get Rose to realise something but without actually having to say it.

That's because she was but Rose wasn't taking the bait.

Eventually Ryosuke seemed to gather his bearings and stop his coughing. Rose finally turned her attention to him.

“You alright?”

Ryosuke didn't speak, his hand covering his mouth but he nodded and stared at a seemly interesting spot on the floor. His face redder than her own hair.

Poor guy. Maybe that was enough of Miho’s teasing for one day.

“On that note, we’re gonna head to lunch.”

Rose walked past Miho and grabbed her bag which was by Goto’s feet. She groaned when she noticed her sketchbook was flipped open. Miho had obviously been taking a look at Rose’s client R rated portraits.

Sighing, Rose got it out and closed it then secured it away back in her bag. Away from poor innocent Inui’s eyes.  

“Did you get an eyeful too?”

Rose looked at Goto when she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“They’re very good,” he replied in a monotone. “Perhaps I’ll have you draw me some time.”

To which Miho just about squealed in delight.

“I will not forget you just said that,” she told her fiance with a smirk - and she totally couldn’t believe he managed to say it without his face exploding. “We can discuss poses once these two clear out.”

Rose laughed. Ryosuke wasn't the only one who seemed to be a little red now. Goto may have learnt a thing or two about teasing from Miho but he was still not match for her.

“Yeah, I'm not sure I wanna be around for that,” Rose walked past them both and grabbed Ryosuke by the hand, “and I don't want you to make him catch fire.”

Rose threw her free hand up and gave a small wave with her back facing them. Her other hand began to drag Ryosuke with her as she made her exit.

“I’ll see you guys later, don't dirty up my chair.”

Ryosuke turned so he was facing them.

“It was nice meeting you, Ma’am, Sir.”

He managed an awkward bow as he reached the door. And Rose pulled it shut behind her, but she managed to catch something she wasn't sure she was meant to hear.

“The boy’s smarter than he looks,” Goto declared, “but I’m not so sure about Rose. You sure you want her profiling people for marriage when she’s missing the obvious right in front of her?”

As the door clicked shut. Rose’s brain began to process what Goto had just said. What did he mean ‘he’s not sure about Rose.’? Somehow her pride felt hurt, she wanted to spin on her heels and rip his throat out. Miho wouldn’t have hired Rose if she didn’t think she was able to do the job well. He should know that.

But she let go of Ryosuke’s hand and walked down the hall towards the entrance. She didn’t want to start a commotion at the MJS offices after all that had happened there recently, especially to Miho and Goto. And she didn’t want to drag Ryosuke into it. He was an innocent bystander in this.   “They are, um a, crazy bunch?”

Ryosuke chuckled, his cheeks still tinged a light shade of warm after all the interrogation and affection on Miho and Goto’s end. As they exited MJS, Rose chuckled with pushing what Goto had said to the back of her mind. Crazy was putting it politely. They were an insane bunch and the dynamics worked well and they all made a good team.

“Yeah. Sorry you had to witness Miho and Goto being so amorous. They’ve had it tough for the last couple of weeks. And they express how much they missed each other through physical displays of affection.”

Rose smiled, she’d rather see that than have to watch Miho cuddling a Domo plushie until the stiches burst.

“So anyway, enough about the love birds. Where are we going to eat?”

Rose nudged Ryosuke’s arm – the mood all light and delicate thanks to Miho’s approval of her best friend.

“Oh! Um, there’s this place not far from here. Just follow me!”

Ryosuke grabbed Rose’s hand and began pulling her along. And she happily followed enjoying the warmth of his palm against hers.

Although it would have been better if she had been the one leading the way since Ryosuke had been taking them in circles for the last ten minutes.

Rose shook her head. He still wasn’t very good with directions.

“Are we lost?”

Well not lost, they knew where they were. Just not where this restaurant was. And it didn’t help that Ryosuke couldn’t remember the name of the place.

“Hahhh…Yeah. I’m sorry. I was sure I’d find it!”

Ryosuke hung his head and Rose ruffled his hair.

“Oh stop that,” She looked at the buildings around them. “Look, there’s a café. Let’s go there.”

Ryosuke’s head bolted up and his eyebrows creased.

“But I wanted to take you to this place. It was really nice and even Mr Ichinomiya said it was good. And he knows his stuff.”

Rose shook her head.

“Honestly, I don’t care what or where we eat. As long as it’s with you.”

Rose smiled a little bashfully at how cheesy and voltage style MC she sounded and at Ryosuke’s blush.

It was true though. She’d had been to ample amounts of fancy restaurants since her parents made their break through with their fashion line. While the food was excellently made by some of the most experienced chefs in the world – it tasted of nothing because of the company she ate with, mostly her own.

She could only taste her loneliness, her bitterness.

She only ate to survive these days. Simple rice dishes were her favourite – bland and cheap. It reminded her of simpler times when she and Ryosuke had to feed themselves while their parents were at work.

Ryosuke was a hopeless cook, he was so clumsy and got distracted easily. He could even ruin rice. If that was even possible.

“Come on, you can take me there another time.” Rose tugged at his hand that was still clasped in hers.

Ryosuke’s eyes widened at that comment and willingly let her lead the way this time.

Upon entering they found a vacant booth in a corner and sat down. Rose looked around while Ryosuke went straight to placing a menu on the table in front of both himself and Rose. The café was nice. It was small quaint and quiet. It wasn’t busy but it wasn’t empty either.

After scoping out the place. Rose looked down on the menu – she wasn’t all that hungry, she often didn’t eat lunch with how busy she was all the time but she didn’t want to turn down the offer to see Ryosuke again.

A waitress approached them after a few minutes and asked to take their order.

Rose ordered the Yakitori and Ryosuke ordered the Sashimi and a cup of coffee each. It wasn’t extravagant or anything fancy and that was just fine with Rose. Although Ryosuke still looked a little glum about having to change his plans.

“Quit pouting.”

Rose nudged his shin under the table with her foot. And Ryosuke jumped to life.

“Ah. Sorry, sorry.”

Rose chuckled. He needed to stop apologising all the time.

“How’s work going?”

Rose asked, although it had just come to her attention she actually had no idea what he did. She’d been reunited with him via him and Mr Oh delivering Kisaki’s latest art piece. Perhaps a delivery service.

No. She was sure she remembered Mr Oh saying that they weren’t.

“Great! Mr. Oh hasn’t shouted at me yet today.”

Rose chuckled.

“That’s good. I’ve been meaning to ask, what is it you actually do with Mr Oh?”

Rose looked at him and he squirmed like he was being interrogated. That was odd, what could his job be that could make that question uncomfortable to answer? Then she remembered how she had to tip-toe around her job title.

He wasn’t a test driver for another Match making service?!

Rose’s heart thudded against her chest and she wanted to be sick.

A brief distraction of their coffees arriving did little to help the uneasy feeling Rose had in the pit of her stomach.

“Um, we, we’re personal security staff for Tres Spades.”

Rose cocked her head, she knew when he was lying or better yet ‘evading the truth’ – he was such a terrible liar. But she had no right to push further after all, she hadn’t told him the truth about her job and she probably never would – it was a breach of protocol.

“That’s impressive. Tres Spades is the number one hotel in Japan right?”

Rose asked, trying to mask the uneasiness in her stomach with chipper conversation.

Her parents once invited her to one of those VIP parties once. Mr Ichinomiya personally offered for them to hold the after party at his hotel after the grand opening of their boutique in Udagawa, Shibuya.

She turned down the offer. Nothing sounded worse than having to dress up in a ‘high fashion gown’ and pretend like she gave a shit about talking to the rich and famous.

“It is! Mr Ichinomiya holds these VIP parties on a monthly basis and so many rich and famous people show up. It’s really a sight to see. Maybe Mr Oh will let me take you to one.”

Rose smiled, well it sounded like he was telling her some of the truth.

“I doubt that, I’m sure he knows as well as I do how easily distracted you are.”

Ryosuke seemed to think about it, he was ready to deny it but ultimately he couldn’t. And while she wasn’t afraid of Mr. Oh, she wasn’t sure she wanted to upset him. Plus it might also mean she’d have to see Kisaki again.

The food arrived and they dug in. Mostly to cover the awkwardness of the previous conversation. Rose still felt a little off but maybe he would tell her more when they spent more time together.

She sighed after taking a bite of her Yakitori. The flavours burst in her mouth, the sweetness reminding her of the man sat opposite her. Maybe subconsciously that is why she chose it.

Food never tasted so good. And she took another bite.

“You never told me,” Ryosuke started him mouth full of Sashimi. “Why do you call yourself Rose?”

Rose swallowed the bite of Yakitori hard. It’s not like the question was a difficult one or one that brought up particularly unpleasant memories for Rose.

It was still hard to let people through the door she’d kept bolted shut all her life. She placed her chopsticks down and took a little swig of her coffee.

“Mm. People know me as Akane Hiraoka – daughter of the Hiraoka Haute-Couture. As soon as people knew my name that was it. They treated me differently. Either they would be super nice and give me advantages most people would never receive but were more deserving of or they would want something from me.”

Rose sighed. She hated it, growing up every time she thought she was either making a friend at her new school they’d all eventually ask ‘could you get me a discount at your parents store?’ or people would let her cut in line when there were people in front of her. Simple things like that she hated.

“Before entering the Musashino Art University, I travelled for a year. I went all over the world to study Western art. I’d made some acquaintances on my trip, a man from London referred to me as ‘Rose’ because of my hair colour and ‘my thorny personality’. And it kind of just stuck.”

Rose smiled, she remembered that man well. He was a bit of an asshole – he gave everyone a nickname without consent and some weren’t very nice. But she thanked him deep down for giving her a name that fitted her.

“I entered a competition under the name ‘Rose’ instead of my full name and I didn’t win.”

“What?! But you’re art is always the best!”

Ryosuke spluttered out through a mouthful of food.

“But if I had used my full name, I would have won. The judges would have been biased because they worked or knew who my parents were. The girl who had actually won, her art was so much better than mine and she deserved it. It gave me the boost to make the name ‘Rose’ into something for myself. Instead of earning things I wasn’t deserving of thanks to my name.”

Rose smiled again, since choosing to call herself ‘Rose’ she worked harder, she’d dedicated more time to improving her talent into what it is today.

“Do, Do I have to call you Rose too? It’s going to be so hard to get used to. I mean I’ve known you as Akane for so long. I don’t think I could call you anything else.”

Rose tuned out in his ramblings and thought about his question.

Did she want him to call her Rose?

No. She liked the way her name sounded when it left his lips. It reminded her of everything happy childhood memory they shared and reminded her that they’d get to make many more now they’d found each other.

“Na, I want you to still call me Akane.”

She interrupted him.

“Really? But will that make things difficult for you?”

Rose smiled at him, he was always so considerate of other people, especially her. She wondered what she deserved to have someone like him around her.

“Na, people only really recognise my last name. Plus it’s no different than a guy calling his girlfriend a ‘pet name’. And I like that only you call me Akane.”

Ryosuke began to fidget and blush profusely.

“B-But um, don’t your parents call you ‘Akane’ too?”

“No, they call me Rose too. After I entered a competition as ‘Rose’ and won as ‘Rose’, they decided that they’d call me that too. My mum said it suited me.”

Rose shrugged, she never asked her mum why it suited her. She assumed it was the same reason as the guy from London gave.

“I-It does. Although you’re prettier than a Rose.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she felt her heart leap with joy. What on earth was that?

“Eh?”

Rose gagged out.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. I mean you blossomed into a beautiful woman, like a Rose. Yeah, yeah.”

Ryosuke clamped his mouth shut realising he was making this worse for himself by adding ‘beautiful’ as a compliment into the mix.

Rose was a little perplexed. Why was he being so complimentary and why did it make her feel really happy?

“Thank you,” Rose said, swallowing down the weird feelings in her stomach. “You’ve grown up well too. You’re so handsome, I would never have imagined it from the mucky, scrawny pup you used to be.”

Not sure how to handle how she was feeling, Rose resorted to making a joke. It was a defence mechanism that she relied on an awful lot.

“Hey! Don’t you call me a puppy too!”

Ryosuke shouted before it dawned on him that Rose had just called him handsome and he blushed the same colour as her hair.

After that the atmosphere started to get a little bit tenser, but they both tried to cover it with random topics of conversation and discussions on the food. Until they finished both the food and coffee.

Rose went to get her purse out when the waitress brought them the check.

“No! I’ll pay!”

Ryosuke held his hands out in front of Rose and he waved them enthusiastically.

“Um, Y’know I may be a student but I can afford this at least.”

Rose cocked her head. Why didn’t he want her to pay? They always paid equal shares when they bought sweets as kids.

“That’s not what I meant! I mean it’s my treat, I invited you for lunch.”

Rose sighed, he wouldn’t let up and he’d pout if she didn’t let him pay. And while his pout was adorable, she knew she’d hurt his feelings and she never wanted to do that.

“Fine. But I’m paying next time, got it?”

“N-Next time?”

Rose stretched her pinky out towards him. She wouldn’t let him pay if he wouldn’t agree. When his pinky locked with hers and he nodded his head, Rose put her purse back in her bag.

Once they’d paid and exited the restaurant. They stood side by side and walked down the streets at an even pace much to the annoyance of the everyday workers rushing down the streets on their way to work and business meetings.

Rose didn’t care, the walk back to MJS wasn’t all that far and she wanted this walk to last for as long as possible.

Rose looked straight ahead, thinking about these feelings and what they meant. Too often she’d stuff her feelings in a vault inside her heart and leave them there, eventually forgetting about them. But these, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with these feelings – especially since they were towards Ryosuke.

A man came into her vision and distracted her. He was walking straight towards them, his presence making it quite obvious he wasn’t going to walk around them rather than through them.     

“Shit.”

Rose cocked her head. That was possibly the first time she’d ever heard Ryosuke swear. It sounded so weird and unnatural. She looked from him to the guy stopped in front of them.

He was tall, slender and very handsome. His features were captured by the striking black locks around his pale face. He was very similar looking to Mr. Oh. But he was definitely Japanese, Mr Oh looked foreign – and with a name like ‘Oh’ he was probably Chinese.

“Well that’s not a nice way to say hello.”

The other man said, his face as emotionless as his voice.

“That’s because I didn’t want to say hello to you!”

Ryosuke replied, his voice flaring a little. And Rose could sense there was competitive tension in the air between these two.

“Fine. Then I shall say hello to your lovely companion.”

He turned to Rose.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Samejima, Koichi. I work with Inui.”

Samejima bowed at Rose.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Rose, just Rose.”

This was kind of an awkward situation and Rose finally realised this might have been what Ryosuke was feeling when he met Miho.

Although Rose wasn’t the least bit phased by the intimidating guy stood in front of her. He was probably the same age as Ryosuke. He was respectful and didn’t impede on Rose’s personal space. She already preferred this co-worker to whatever Kisaki was to Ryosuke.

“What are doing here, Samejima?”

Ryosuke glared, he cheeks puffed out slightly.

“Mr Oh personally asked me to get something for him.”

There was a tone of ‘Hah he trusts me more than you’ to his voice and Rose was expecting Ryosuke to actually explode.

“What?!”

Well his voice did.

“You’re so loud.”

Samejima sighed and looked at Rose.

“How do you put up with him?”

Rose smiled, while these two obviously had their differences there was something in Samejima’s eyes that told Rose that it was more like sibling rivalry than a serious dislike to each other.

“He’s fun to tease.”

Rose shrugged.

“What?!”

“See?” Rose laughed, motioning with her hand to Ryosuke’s reaction.

“Hey! Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”

“Oh hush, you know I love you really.”

Rose touched his arm before pulling her hand towards herself. She didn’t look at his reaction – if she had, she may have seen his heart beating in his eyes. Instead she caught a glimpse of her watch and realised she had to finish her client report, this wouldn’t be a problem if she hadn’t left the profile she’d written at the office.

Miho wouldn’t be pleased if she left it there half complete.

“Oh shit. I better get back to the office.”

Rose blurted out before dragging Ryosuke into a quick but affectionate hug. She hated letting go – part of her wanted to buy him a collar and leash and adopt him from Mr Oh so she could take him with her everywhere. But that was a little too far, even for her.

She turned back to Samejima.

“It was nice meeting you, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

With a quick bow, she rushed through the crowds of people back towards the MJS offices without so much as a glance back.

“Ah! I was going to walk her back.”

Ryosuke sighed, his hand still half reached out in attempt to stop her but she had already disappeared into to crowd.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Samejima said, still staring in the direction Rose walked off in.

“N-No. She’s just my childhood friend.”

Ryosuke rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground.

“I see.” Samejima looked at Inui, then smirked a little. “Mind if I take a shot with her then?”

“WHAT?!”   

Rose got back to MJS and headed straight for Miho’s office, managing to give a little flash of a smile to Izumi as she passed.

She’d forgotten about what she overheard this morning thanks to Ryosuke taking her mind off it and waltzed into Miho’s office without a second thought.

However when she opened the door, she halted for a second when the person she didn't want to particularly see was sat at Miho’s desk instead of Miho. That brought everything rushing back and she immediately put up her guard.

Another part of her defence mechanism.

She gave nothing away as she walked into the office. The silence following her like a bad itch.

Goto watched her and she could feel it even without looking at him.

“Where’s Miho?”

“Not in my lap this time, thankfully,” he replied, and even managed a small and somewhat self-deprecating smile. “Though it seems you didn’t learn your lesson.”

If he had any ill will toward her, given what she overheard, he certainly wasn’t showing it - then again, he was an undercover specialist so he had to be good at acting.

Rose took a moment to collect herself. Although it didn't really work. She was still feeling unsure of how to act or respond.

“Yeah well, I guess I’m not smart enough to see what’s in front of me.”

She mumbled, not really caring whether Goto heard her or not.

In her mind, she knew it was stupid to be acting so petulant. But it hurt her pride when he insulted her capability to work at MJS. She’d spent her whole life reading other people’s emotions and expressions - to protect her own and create realistic art. She was more than capable to do this job and do it well.

Asshole.

Goto considered this a moment, before he slowly pushed himself up from Miho’s chair and moved around the desk - but his movements were not menacing or threatening, nor did he seem abashed that she had heard him… perhaps he had even meant her to hear him?

“Are you?” he asked evenly, no malice or condescension, just a question in search of an honest answer.

Rose snarled, ready to bare her fangs and rip Goto apart. But somewhere inside herself, she asked the same question and the answer wasn’t ‘yes’.

Instead she sighed and looked at him evenly as if his expression would tell her the answer to his own question.

But it didn’t.

“Miho seems to think not.”

She shrugged, really hoping her boss would walk through the door and end whatever this conversation was.

“Miho is very astute,” he nodded slowly, hands dug into his pockets as he came to rest back against the desk like he had that morning. “She knows a good worker when she sees one, and she knows people, and yet it took even her far too long to realise the truth about herself.”

Rose stared at him, her face as blank as a canvas.

“What does that mean?”

As far as Rose could remember, Miho was sure of everything in her life - her job, her fiance, her home, herself. But she didn’t know the Miho before Goto.

It suddenly clicked in her head. Yet she had no idea why he was bringing this up.

“I wonder if you have any idea what it’s like to love someone, but see they don’t even notice,” he mused, and as he spoke he cast his eyes to the floor - obviously he knew.

Then his gaze lifted.

“I think your Inui knows,” he added, his tone conveying some kind of sad kinship.

Ryosuke? Why was he bringing him up?

Rose shuffled on her feet, it was like she was getting into a defensive stance before a fight. It was an automatic reaction when Ryo was brought up in a conversation.

Watching Goto watch the way she moved, Rose too looked down and saw her fists clenched and her stature stiff at the mere mention of his name.

“And why do you say that?”

Rose asked lifting her head to meet his gaze, her heart beginning to wildly pound against her chest as if he was finally going to tell her what she already knew. How long was she going to keep acting thick?

The sound of Miho’s clicking tongue drew both their attention to the doorway Rose had left open.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Rose,” she dropped, rolling her eyes. “The boy is mad crazy in love with you.”

Leave it to Miho to take the tactful approach. Goto’s left hand pulled from his pocket and moved toward his forehead, but he managed to stop himself before he facepalmed.

“I was trying to be subtle, Miho,” he chided lightly, but he also looked a little relieved.

“Patience isn’t my strongest suit,” Miho shrugged with a grin, before focusing back in on Rose. “Heh, it’s going to suck to lose my very first intern so soon, but I don’t suppose it can be helped.”

For the entire of that conversation, Rose stared at Miho blankly. It was like a flashback of recent and past memories rolled through her mind.

Yet she wasn’t surprised because she knew, she lied to herself in an attempt to not ruin their rekindled friendship and to avoid something she’d never dealt with before.

She knew, because she felt the same. All the little excited, nervous and happy feelings that consumed her when she was around him, spoke about him or looked at him – they were clear signs but Rose pretended to be blind and not notice them.

Panic, excitement, relief, fear, dread, sadness, happiness all gripped hold of her. In twenty-three years of living, Rose had not had a single relationship.

‘Neither has Inui.’ - Her subconscious said.

What if it doesn’t work out and they are no longer friends after the break up?

‘Deal with that IF it happens.’

What if he can’t handle all of her baggage? And she can’t handle his?

‘Then you work together to overcome that.’

If Miho was inside Rose’s brain right now, she’d be beating it senseless.

“What’s this?” Miho asked, poking Rose in the middle of her forehead. “Tell me you don’t want to just tear his clothes of and tou…”

“Miho,” Goto interrupted with a gravelly cough, but Miho only grinned impishly.

“Not that you need my approval, but the kid is cute, and like a good puppy is certainly keen to defend your honour against nefarious groomsmen.”

Rose looked between Miho and Goto.

She got offended when Goto was just trying to make her accept rather than run away from her feelings. He saw Inui’s plight, the one Rose chose to ignore despite her promise to protect him.

She smiled subconsciously. The pair were seriously a match made in hell. And she wondered if she and Ryosuke could become like that.

“You two,” Rose started, her smile turning into a grin, “are such a meddlesome pair.”

But there was no malice to her comment, just genuine appreciation for them both.

“And if I actually tore off his clothes, I think he’d faint.”

Rose added, while thinking about how to tell him. And when. Did she wait for him? No, he might never confess to her if she left it up to him.

The intimacy aspect hadn’t even entered her mind - which was rare. But now she had to think about it. She wasn’t sure if Ryo was virgin or not – they hadn’t had THAT conversation yet. Not that it mattered to Rose. But her tastes were somewhat particular in the bedroom.

What if they weren’t compatible in bed? Would it be over before it started?

“I could have a chat with him,” Miho offered, not quite so teasing as before, but Goto was gently shaking his head. “Hmm what about we set you up?” she offered cheerfully.

She seemed to like this idea very much; Goto still seemed skeptical.

“Hey, how many successful marriages have I engineered?” she scoffed. “What I can’t quite figure though, is who will wear the collar in their relationship?”

“Are you serious?”

Rose looked at Miho.

“He’ll definitely be the one wearing the collar,” Rose then thought about Miho’s plan. “Your plan would be great but I’d have no idea how to get him to do it.”

There was no way Ryosuke would agree to a matchmaker date. He was way too innocent and nervous to know what to do in that situation. She didn’t want to kill him before she could confess to him.

“He doesn’t have to know he’s doing anything in particular, though I really would prefer just to sit him down and tell him like it is,” Miho asserted. “People get brought together in all sorts of ways. Doesn’t have to be a fancy dinner or a trip to an amusement park. Ugh or aquarium, who even does that?”

For a moment, it seemed Miho lost herself, before refocusing.

“There’s always the wedding, but if you want to be snugging him before that, then I’ll just have to concoct something.”

She seemed to be deep in thought, for all of two seconds before she narrowed her eyes on Rose again.

“Ha, and don’t you go thinking I’ve forgotten you like to wear collars too,” she smirked, drawing her finger lightly around her own neck where Rose’s hickey collar had been.

“Do you think Ryo would be able to put a collar on me without apologising or feeling guilty?”

Rose chuckled but then her face went serious.

“I feel I need to do it sooner rather than later, I may miss my chance. I mean he's handsome and adorable. Any girl would want him on their arm.”

She wondered if she deserved him for a moment but shook that off. Before the doubts crept in and made her run away again.

“Plus, the wedding is about you two.”

“Maybe the boy just needs some practice,” Goto stated, and both women looked at him.

“Well don’t look at me, I’m marrying you,” Miho snorted. “And I don’t think Rose would be too interested in having someone ‘teach him the ropes’ - I totally can’t believe you said that.”

Goto’s shoulders lifted in the slightest of shrugs.

“Clearly I’m now out of my league in this conversation,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I’ll just wait outside.”

Goto began to walk towards the door but Rose touched his arm, not afraid to push the boundaries of whatever kind of friendship they had. She was right about him being as soft as a Domo plushie after all.  

“Thanks.”

Was all Rose said and all she needed to say to him, and he looked a little sheepish, and gave her an acknowledging nod before exiting the office.

Rose then turned back towards Miho.

“I guess MJS should just write date scenarios out completely,” Miho murmured to herself, flopping down on the couch. “Might be safer that way. Mmph will talk with Jazz about it later, but for now, we need to figure out how to get the epitome of innocence to bare his teeth - I think we both know you like a good biting.”

Rose flopped down next to Miho, her body relaxed after finally letting go of all these feelings and embracing them rather than locking them away.

“Well, puppies like the bite right?”

Rose smirked as she looked at Miho out the corner of her eye. And Miho’s smirk matched. They began plotting together, but it wasn’t going to be that simple. Ryosuke had competition.  

[theherondaels]

The Most Puntastic Best Man Speech Ever

It's finally here! Words cannot describe how proud I am of this. Have fun reading!

Nervousness washed over Matteo when Gastón asked for everyone's attention. He felt apprehensive and queasy at the thought of what was about to happen.

Matteo eyed the vodka shot glasses warily. Not only was there a bet making the rounds for how many puns - space related or not - Gastón had put into this speech, there was also a drinking game going on in which all participants had to take a shot every time his best friend would make pun.

Ramiro and his cousin Vinny had more or less robbed the open bar as everyone that had agreed to be part of the drinking game had ten small glasses placed before them. Matteo couldn't help but think about the bill. They would be indebted forever!

Still, he doubted that this was the exact amount of puns. That would be wishful thinking.

Luna noticed his uneasiness and sent him a reassuring smile. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress and Matteo would lie if he said that he hadn't wiped a few tears away when he had seen her walking down the aisle.

"Good evening ladies and gentleman, boys and girls," Gastón began, "It's been such an exciting day that I'm absolutely speechless... Which is probably very good news for most of you, am I right, Matteo?"

Gastón wasn't even five sentences in and Matteo already regretted making him his best man. Nonetheless, he drank his first - and surely not last! - shot.

"I hope everyone is enjoying this very special day so far. It's been emotional. I mean, even the cake is in tiers!"

The crowd's reaction was a mixture of laughter and groaning. Matteo had been definitely doing the latter. After having another shot, he glanced at his wife - how fantastic was it that he could finally call her that? - who really seemed to enjoy herself. At least she was having fun. If Luna was happy Matteo could endure this for a few more minutes.

"For those of you that do not know me already, my name is Gastón and I am Matteo's best friend. I'm also the best man for today. Though I would have been fine with lord of the rings too."

Had he really just made a Lord of the Rings reference?

Wait, did that count as a pun? Should he drink? Matteo looked around and saw that he wasn't the only one with this problem. Deciding that he was still far too sober for this whole thing, Matteo took the shot and the others promptly followed suit.

"Now one of my main duties as best man was to organise the stag night. Another one of my duties is to not mention the stag night – as the saying goes, 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'."

Just when Matteo had thought that Gastón was done with this delicate topic, he started to talk again, "Luckily, we went to Amsterdam. For those of you that don't know, Amsterdam is full of historical buildings, museums, canals and culture. I think that I will have to go back though as I don't recall seeing any of that."

Matteo sighed out of relief. That hadn't be too bad. And Gastón had somehow managed to let the stag night sound way more interesting than it had actually been.

"Before I start the long-awaited character assassination of the groom, I'd like to thank all of you for being here today, especially those of you who knew that I'd be saying a few words - it's very touching that you still decided to come. It's also truly amazing how far some people will travel for a free meal." After the laughter had died down, Gastón added sincerely, "In all seriousness, I know this day means so much to everyone involved, and I know Matteo and Luna are delighted that you are all here to share their special day."

Matteo was about to take yet another shot when Luna gestured for a waiter and asked him to put the remaining shots away. The waiter did as he was told and Matteo was too perplexed to say anything. He stared after the shots longingly. "I can't believe you did that," Matteo muttered. He turned his head to her again, "Why did you do that?"

"That would have been your fourth shot. I still want to enjoy my wedding night," Luna explained. Normally, Matteo would have retorted with something cocky but he was still struggling with the fact that his coping method had been taken away from him.

Gastón thanked both of their parents and congratulated Matteo and his father-in-law on their successful speeches. The groomsmen were thanked too. Meanwhile, the groom tried to come up with another distraction. He now studied the faces of people who wouldn't or couldn't drink.

A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, right?

Matteo couldn't quite decipher Nina's expression, it was like a mix of disbelief and utter adoration. Ámbar just looked 100% done and he was sure that if it hadn't been for adorable 3-month-old Alicia she would have joined the drinking game too. Matteo truly admired them in that moment. How were they still alive after listening to everything Gastón had said up until this point? While being completely sober?

"Now I wouldn't be able to get away without thanking the flower girl, Ofelia. You did great, darling!" Gastón praised his daughter, giving her a thumbs up, "I'd also like to thank the matron of honor and bridesmaids for helping the bride get ready earlier and for making the unthinkable possible: Luna was at the church on time."

This earned him a few cheers. Matteo leaned closer to Luna, "I have to thank you again for being on time and sparing me a heart attack." She shrugged, "What can I say? I didn't want to get hit with cake." Matteo smiled at her, remembering their conversation from yesterday. "It would have been such a shame," he agreed. Luna was smiling and in that gorgeous wedding dress of hers no picture would ever do her justice! It really was hard for him to focus on the speech again.

"And may I add how wonderful they all look," Gastón said, a grin forming on his lips, "They are only eclipsed by Luna herself. The bride truly both outshines the sun and the moon with her dress!"

On the one hand, Matteo felt so sorry for those who still had their shots. He really hoped that none of them would die from alcohol poisoning. However, on the other hand, he was really envious of them. Even after two glasses of prosecco and three shots of vodka Matteo still had the mighty need to either shoot himself or Gastón. He put his head into his hands. "Make him stop," Matteo mumbled, "Or let me have another shot. I don't care." After saying these words, he  wondered if the waiter would still serve him an alcoholic beverage. The mention of his name interrupted his thought.

"Matteo doesn't look bad either which shouldn't be a surprise as he is always dressed accurately. Except for that leo print shirt disaster... Matteo, I still have nightmares!"

So Gastón was at the embarrass the groom part now? Great. He scanned the table, desperate for anything with alcohol in it. Sadly, there were only two glasses water on the table. Matteo sighed. Just pretend it's vodka, he tried to motivate himself. Before Matteo got the chance to take a sip, Gastón's voice echoed through the room again.

"Every once in a while, two people meet and you just know it's meant to be," Gastón told them, voice serious, "You know instantly that the stars have aligned and that their paths would bring them together, regardless of what the universe might throw their way. That they would know and understand each other for the rest of their life – For Matteo this occurred in September of 2014... When he met me."

The crowd went wild after this and it took a few minutes until everyone had calmed down, allowing Gastón to speak again, "I'm convinced that in another lifetime Matteo and I have been friends since diapers. In this one our first encounter happened in school. It had been the first day of eight grade and Matteo had just moved from god-knows-where. We were seating partners in maths but it wasn't until the second week where we actually started talking to each other - out of class, of course - as Mr Zima liked to have absolute silence in his class. We've been best friends ever since."

Matteo smiled fondly at the memory. "But enough of Matteo and me. So where do I start with our lovely bridal couple? What took them so long? This wedding was like their first kiss - long overdue!" Gastón joked.

"Their first meeting had been far more interesting," he started again, "I wasn't actually there when it happened but I'm sure it was as bride and groom still argue to this day who actually skated into who," Gastón paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. Suddenly, Gastón turned towards him. Oh dear God, he was going to die! "Now Matteo, as a married man myself, I'd like to give you some advice: Just admit you're wrong."

Hah. Never!

That Matteo hadn't answer him didn't disturb Gastón even the slightest, he looked like he was having the time of his life, "After their collision Matteo had been so dazzled by Luna that he followed her around like a satellite. No, seriously if they were ever to discover that the moon has it's own moon they should name it Matteo." Someone please save him, Matteo thought. With vodka.

"I know a lot of people here are probably wondering just what does Luna see in Matteo? Well, for starters, he's handsome, witty, intelligent, char... Charm... Sorry! Matteo? I'm really having trouble reading your handwriting here, you can tell me the rest later!"

Matteo had actually laughed at that. Gastón loved to make fun of his cursive handwriting.

"I'm trying to think of something by myself now," Gastón said and pretended to ponder, "So to get back to the question, just what does Luna see in Matteo... It could be his work ethic. He always finishes what he starts. When he has set his mind to something, he will achieve it. No matter what. Really, Matteo might just be the personification of 'Veni, vidi, vici' which I think is funny since our groom here despises Avicii. You certainly won't hear him on the dancefloor later tonight."

Someone please kill him. At this point Matteo didn't even know if he had meant himself or Gastón with that. Or Avicii.

"Maybe it's his romantic nature?" Gastón tried again, "I mean, you all heard his speech earlier. Oh boy, and I thought I was sappy." Matteo felt his cheeks redden and why did God hate him so much?

"Music has always been one of Matteo's passions and..... Wait for it... He has certainly hit the right note with Luna!" Gastón said excitedly, a proud smile gracing his features. Matteo was honestly at loss for words.

Gastón looked at the bride. "Luna, I particularly liked you from the start because you always laughed at my puns, while Matteo would just shake his head and call me an idiot... She's sweet, kind, determined and unafraid. I never see Matteo as happy and content as when he is with her. So you could say that she lights up his world like nobody else," he grinned.

"I would like to finish off with a quote which I'm sure Matteo's not so secret romantic side will appreciate, "'Marriage is not about finding a person you can live with, it's about finding the person you can't live without'. They definitely have found that person in each other. Just look at their phone bills."

Okay, yeah, he approved of that. The waiters were handing out prosecco filled glasses again. It took all of Matteo's willpower to not empty his glass immediately.  

"So then ladies and gentlemen, it gives me immense pleasure  to invite you all to stand one up more time and raise your glasses, in a toast to Matteo and Luna."

When everyone had raised their glasses, Gastón raised his too, "I wish them both the best of luck and a life together filled with health, happiness and joy. To my best friend and his beautiful wife. To the new Mr & Mrs Balsano. Cheers!"

After the toast Gastón thanked everyone for listening and made his way to his seat, the tension in Matteo's shoulders finally disappearing for good. "I still live!" he exclaimed, being so relieved that the speech was finally over.

Matteo let his eyes wander around, seeing that almost all of their close friends looked more than a little tipsy. And that was putting it nicely.

By the looks of it they would wake up with a killer headache tomorrow.