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vanchlo · 5 years ago

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The Assistant / Chapter Thirty One, “Timing”

Find all chapters to this story here!

Check out the character survey from Becky’s POV I did recently! :-)

Warnings: Very brief mention of IVs (needles)

Song Inspo: My My Love by Joshua Radin (Click to listen)

Sneaky Peeeeeeeeeky!

“A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape.

“I-It’s not a scar,” I say quickly, but at the same time, at a loss for words. He’s so close his breath smelling of chamomile tea passes by me within a second. And God, those pouty strawberry lips are so decadent, and tempting. “It’s a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup, that’s probably why you’ve never seen it.” Finished, I turn my head back to the telly, his finger dropping from the barely one inch mark.

“Wha’? Why d’ya do that? ‘s lovely.” As much as I try to drown my thoughts in the scene unraveling before my eyes, I can’t. Because his words, and the tingling under my eye consume my thoughts. The devil and angel inside my head bounce up and down in their seats.”

“No. W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, unable to control my words. Or my thoughts. Or my emotions.

At the drop of my words, Harry’s face falls. His eyebrows. The budding smile on his lips. And the brightness in his eyes. But he masks it quickly. And it escapes my mind when he crosses the distance between us. His black slacks, teal geometric-patterned button down, and curls are a blur in the seconds that follow. Suddenly, his arms are around me and pulling me into him. With sleep still clinging to my mind, and unsure of what to do, I freeze.

“Please don’t tell me you left work to drive 3 hours to come to Madley,” I confess quietly into the damp shoulder of his black peacoat. Shivering, his fingers run trails up and down my back.

“Shuddup, I ‘ave a case t’morrow nearby in Wolverhampton . . . Jus’ lemme do sumthin’ nice fer ya,” he says, his soft words drifting over the top of my head.

“I-I’m sorry. I just woke up and you caught me off guard,” I apologize meekly, feeling myself relax. My arms wind around his waist and lace themselves together over his coat.

“‘s okay,” he hums. His hands pause and I feel them brush my hair away. “I know ya hadda rough night- well couple o’ days,” Harry murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. My lungs still and I wait, wondering if he’ll kiss my head. But it doesn’t come, and I try to will away the disappointment beginning inside of me. I’ve become so accustomed to it that it doesn’t want to leave this time. Then it’s joined by the happy disbelief appearing wet in my eyes.

“Couldn’ stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, an’ figured I had t’ come up ‘ere t’morow mornin’ anyways. Wha’s an extra night hurt?” The first few words do it for me, and there I am spewing tears all over his shoulder. They’re not a waterfall, but the emotions growing inside of me feel that way. And they’re here, because he is.

He holds me tighter against him, and I feel his cheek rest on my head. Holding on tight to his coat, I let myself and everything I’m feeling melt against him. “You don’t know what it means to me that you’re here,” I confess in a trembling voice interrupted by sniffling.

“I think I do do, ‘coz you were there fer me tha day o’ tha funeral when I needed a friend. An’ at tha hospital. Ya showed up fer me, Becks, an’ I wanted t’ do tha same fer ya,” Harry reveals softly from above me. My lips bend into a happy smile amongst the tears that come harder at his words. “I brought dinna, ‘cuz I knew ya prolly hadn’t eaten. ‘s luck that I found ya atta vendin’ machine.”

His precious laugh greets my ears as his fingers tickle up my back. The bunches of fabric leave my hands, and I step away to search for those green eyes. After a few seconds, I find them staring down at me. They’re blurry behind the tears, but soon his smiling face sharpens.

“No mo’ tears, ‘kay? Le’s go eat some dinna an’ find sumthin’ good on tha telly,” Harry whispers, running the pad of his thumb along my cheeks. Nodding, his hand envelopes mine and we go to find a sitting area.

The halls are deserted besides a few nurses checking in on patients. Familiar medical-sounding beeps sound throughout the hallway. After guiding the way for Harry as I wipe my cheeks, we soon find our dining table. Or rather a sofa with a little table.

“I hope fish an’ chips ‘s alright,” he says, doubt filling his words.

“Of course they are. Did you get them from Maggie’s over on Fifth?”

“Yeah, I think so. Li’l shop with photos coverin’ tha walls?” he questions as he unpacks the brown paper bag.

“Yep, that’s the one. They make the best fish and chips I’ve had. And I would know, because I grew up eating these ones my entire life.”

“Well I guess ya would know then,” Harry relents, shrugging his shoulders with a toothy smile.

Whispered ‘thank yous’ float between us as we pass each other food and napkins. With two cups of water from the cooler a few steps away, we dig in.

“No kiddin’, these are good. ‘s always tha family owned shops that make tha best ones, innit?” Harry mumbles with a mouth full of food. I reply with an ‘mmmhmm’, trying not to laugh at the crumbs speckling his chin.

The crispy, buttery cod melts on my tongue. With my free hand, I grab hold of the gray remote sitting on the table beside me.

“Hey, ‘s my turn t’ pick what we watch,” Harry whines, stealing the remote from me.

“Rude!” I retort, but any words I had left to say collapse into laughter. Licking his thumb, he peeks over at me. A sly grin stuck to his lips.

Shaking my head, I look away and pick up a chip from the paper tray in my hand. When my eyes return to him, a ketchup-covered chip sits in his hand. Meanwhile, his face is screwed up in concentration at the telly. I smile, and then notice his reflection in the dark window on the other side of him. Kicking his foot with my right, he turns to the left to look at me in confusion.

“Just pick something!” I tell him, my palm turning up to help me talk. His dark curls dance atop his head as it goes from side to side.

“Oh hush, you. Cantcha letta man think?” he quips before feeding the chip past his cherry lips.

“No, not when it takes you an hour to pick what to watch,” I reply, yanking it from his hands.

“Heeeey! I was jus’ gonna pick that episode o’ Friends!”

“Wait, you like Friends?!” I nearly yell, my head snapping to look at him.

“O’course! Who doesn’t? I grew up watchin’ that show with me mum an’ sista,” he answers. With those words, my heart does a somersault in my chest. Oh my fuck, I’m falling again. “Wha’? Do ya not like it?”

“No, I-I love it. I grew up watching it, too. It’s like my comfort show - I watch it when I’m happy, sad, mad, excited- you name it,” I reply slowly, engrossed in gathering ketchup onto my chip. When I hear his murmured ‘me too’ from a mouth full of food, the devil and angel inside of me go crazy. For once, they seem to root for the same team.

“Favourite characta?” his words greet the air effortlessly. He licks the salt and grease from his thumb, and I suddenly regret looking up. The things you do to me, Styles.

“On the count of 3?” I ask, and his chestnut ringlets bounce with a nod.

“1 . . . 2 . . . 3.”

“Phoebe!” we both say in unison, sending us into fits of giggles.

“There’s nuthin’ betta than her on dat show. She’s hilarious, plays guitar, ‘s a surrogate fer her bloody brotha, an’ ‘s gorgeous,” Harry explains, and I’m following with every word. And with each one, I feel the butterflies in my tummy flutter again. For possibly the tenth time already tonight.

“All of the great jokes and catchphrases from the show are from her: Regina Phalange, Smelly Cat, Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, ‘I don’t even have a pla’, Gladys the framed doll, and that stupid taxi. She’s blunt and so funny, but she’s so sweet and would do anything for her friends,” I continue, watching him nod emphatically as he picks up another chip.

“Couldn’ ‘ave said it betta meself. Oh I love dis episode where they’re stuck at tha beach house. Poor Phoebs findin’ out tha truth ‘bout her mum dat way, tho’,” Harry comments, his mouth falling into a delighted and then sad O. My eyes follow his to the screen of the telly where our attention is held for the next twenty minutes.

My shoes only stop squeaking when I stop in front of the garbage bin. After tossing the greasy paper bag, I rub a pump of hand sanitizer into my hands. I wince at the awful sounds my shoes make as I try to walk quietly down the tiled hallway. The snoring greets my ears before I see him, but when I do, I smile. With careful steps, I pluck my backpack from the couch before leaving the room.

“He still sleepin’?” Harry asks, looking up from the Friends marathon from the telly. We scored!

“Yep,” I answer, plopping down onto the sofa beside him.

“Good,” he answers, slumping down further into the gray cushions. My backpack drops with a thud to the floor after I got what I needed. “What’re ya doin’? ‘s eleven-thirty, love. Tha’s no time t’ be doin’ homework.”

“I know, but I need to submit an assignment before I forget. It’s due at midnight,” I answer, seeing his nod out of the corner of my eye.

My laptop wakes with its usual jingle, and I watch my browser load. The audience laughter fills my ears at a humorous line from Chandler. Surprise, surprise. The maroon and navy blue colors of my uni’s website appear in front of me. Within a few moments, I’m on the web page for my course.

“Wha’s tha assignment?” Harry inquires, his eyes never leaving the telly. A laugh creases his cheeks, making me smile. But I’m not very sad I missed what’s so funny, because he makes up for it.

“Um, it’s an essay about Thomas Cromwell and his theories and stuff,” I reply, opening the page for assignments.

“Ah, I see they ‘aven’t changed coursework much from my day. Cromwell ‘s bloody obvious when ya start talkin’ ‘bout British law.”

“I know, it’s like the professor didn’t even try when drafting this assignment,” I comment with a small titter. Relief washes over me when I get a message saying my submission was successful. And something else too from being able to talk to him about law so easily. Something akin to how a hot chocolate makes you feel on a winter’s day.

I glance up and find Harry losing it with laughter. There’s a fleeting temptation to ask him to clue me in. But a laugh tingles on my lips when I find what he’s laughing at. Monica’s crying as she holds onto Chandler’s arm, an ocean scene in the background.

“Can’ believe Joey actually peed on Monica.” The words leave Harry’s mouth in between chuckles rather sloppily.

“He was just trying to help!” I comment, unable to stop laughing either.

“But it doesn’t even help! They say it makes it worse even,” he laughs, rubbing his forehead.

Shaking my head, my eyes fall to my laptop screen. After a few clicks, lines of text cloud my eyes. My eyes roll into the back of my head at their appearance. I find it nearly impossible to hold back a groan.

“What’re you gripin’ ‘bout ova here?” Harry questions with teasing in his tone.

“I have to read the entire case of Haughton v. Smith for a test, and it’s so confusing. I mean, working with you brushed me up on a lot of legal mumbo jumbo. But still, a lot of it doesn’t make sense to me,” I huff, my chin falling into the palm of my hand.

“Alright, lemme see what part yer at,” he says in a quiet voice. I try to ignore the regret budding inside of me at what I said about working at his firm. And how it makes me feel, and probably him, too. I don’t know why I ever bring it up, because sometimes it feels like when somebody else brings up the ex-boyfriend, or something. The sofa cushion dips as he closes the space between us. The angel and demon inside of me erupt into synonymous cheers when his arm goes around me.

“God, did you forget your glasses or something, Grandpa?” my question sputters from my lips in a cackle, watching him squint at the screen.

“Oh shuddup, an’ I mean it,” Harry quips, looking away for a moment. When I see the reason why, instead of a laugh consuming my thoughts, something else does. For some fucking reason, my heart warms at the sight of him unfolding a pair of mottled brown Pantos glasses. He tucks the brown case into the inside of his blazer, his peacoat on a chair. “Ya ya, laugh all ya want at me an’ me readin’ glasses.”

But when he looks down at me with them settled on his nose, I don’t laugh. “Why aren’t ya laughin’ anymo’, hmm?” he questions.

“I think they look really nice on you. They make you look handsome and sophisticated,” I tell him slowly, and it’s undeniable the pink that pinches his cheeks.

“Well ‘s ‘bout time fer dat t’ happen, only took me twenty-nine years,” he jokes, bringing a smile to my lips. My head goes from side to side as I close my eyes, my cheeks bunching from happiness painting my lips. Yeah, it’s about time for a lot of things right about now. “Alrigh’, lemme look what part yer at fer real now.”

I nod, trying to get comfortable on the sofa. Pitching my head back, I feel it bump into his arm. Nevermind my fucked neck, I return my eyes to the screen to try and forget that his arm is around me. But they immediately refuse and slowly trail to Harry, his face mere inches away from mine.

Okay, no, stop thinking about his lips and what they could do, I tell the demon inside of my head.

Becky, you could. You so know you could do it.

Shut up! He’s just helping me with my homework, that’s all this is.

Oh yeah? And when are you going to let yourself think about the real reason he’s here, huh?

I can’t do that right now.

Yes, you can! Maybe if you think about it, you’ll realize how good of an idea it would be to let yourself kiss him. I’m sure he’s thinking about it too.

Just stop!

His thumb and forefinger knead his bottom lip. It bunches together in little waves as his eyes flit across the screen. Whiskers the shade of his curls are scattered across his face. They’re dense atop his upper lip and around his chin. And God, I can’t stop thinking about them. Wanting to touch them. Feel them on my face- okay stop it, Becky.

“Well yer mostly at tha end, so wha’ doesn’t make sense t’ ya?” Harry finally says, turning his head ever so slightly to look at me.

“I know, but I feel like I don’t know what I just read. And the verdict is contradicting to me,” I answer with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Well maybe it’d make more sense t’ ya if ya weren’t lookin’ at it at almos’ midnigh’, love.”

“Yeah, well it’s kind of the only time I have lately with everything. I’m afraid to email my prof again saying I need an extension when it’s due tomorrow. I’ve needed a lot of them lately. I just wanna get it done,” I respond quietly, looking to the telly awkwardly. It’s always hard when the truth comes out, and the emotions that hang on to it.

A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my left eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape.

“Kids used to make fun of it when I was little. They’d call it a worm under my eye, because of its shape. It used to be more pronounced and bigger when I was little, but it’s still pretty noticeable,” I answer, adding in an eye roll that he laughs at.

“Aww, poor Becks. But if it counts, I don’ think it looks like a worm. ‘s cute on you,” he adds seriously, pinching my cheek. That makes me look over at him, and I already know that I’m blushing.

A small ‘thanks’ leaves my lips before my eyes dip to my laptop. Close to a minute of silence grows between us before he breaks it. “‘Kay, so Haughton vs. Smith found that ya can’t commit tha crime o’ handlin’ stolen goods, if tha goods they’re talkin’ ‘bout weren’t actually stolen. ‘s an important case t’ know, cuz it was ‘ventually ovaturned by tha Criminal Attempts Act o’ ‘81. Ya’ll neva be able t’ forget tha connection between tha two, issa given. Ya don’ need t’ worry ‘bout that law now tho’, they basically mean tha same thing.”

“Thanks for explaining it, I hope it’s enough to help me pass the test on it,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly.

“Open tha test, an’ ‘ll help ya with it.”

The second my eyes land on Joey’s body covered in sand on the telly, they whip back to Harry. “Really, you’d help me?”

“‘Course I would. Tha’s what ‘m here fer. An’ it wouldn’t hurt t’ see if I still got it.”

“You’ve been a lawyer for years, and this is pre-law, so of course you do. And not to mention, ranked as one of the best in London,” I reply smiling, clicking open a new tab. I suspect how my words will make him feel, because they fill me with the same emotions. Pride. Happiness. Astonishment. And more pride.

“Well, I do me best,” Harry titters proudly. A cocky hum leaves his lips as he brushes off his chest. A laugh sputters from my lips that I can’t contain. “Heeeey, don’ be laughin’ at me.”

“Sorry, I just can’t control myself when you start dropping dad jokes,” I respond nonchalantly, clicking on the tab labeled ‘Assessments.’

“Just pull tha bloody test up an’ le’s get it ova with,” he huffs, amusement still lacing through his words.

“Awww, is it past your bedtime already?” I pout, turning my eyes to him. His lips smush together and I hear the smallest of squeaks get past them. “You know you like my grandpa jokes, don’t lie.”

“Shuddup, li’l one, an’ open tha goddamn test already,” he huffs. If anybody else heard him, they’d think he was mad at me. But even as my eyes cast over the column of tests from this course, I know different. I can hear it in his voice - the joking, the molasses, the affectionate teasing, and the friendship.

Wow, nice choice of words there, Ms. Denial.

Shut up, devil.

“I am not little!” I retort in a high voice, making my two tabs appear as two windows on my screen. Side by side. Cheating time!

“Becks, yer like 5’5, if that.”

“No, I’m not! I’m 5’6, you liar!”

“Ya, cuz that one lousy inch really does a whole lot, doesn’t it?” Harry counters, his voice melting into a goofy one. I respond to it with a hearty laugh that is soon accompanied by his. “Yer still a li’l one t’ me, love.”

“Fine, Grandpa Harry.”

The annoying sound of a laugh track pricks at my ears. Blinking hard, the room around me is blurry. But after a groggy minute of blinking, it begins to sharpen. I don’t remember the lights getting turned off, but the telly screen burns my eyes. Rubbing them, I moan from tiredness. Dropping my arm, I feel it hit something. Looking down, I’m confused. When I lift my head from whatever it was resting on, I find what I was laying on. And well, what was also laying on me. Still is. Her face scrunches adorably before relaxing, nuzzling her head against my shoulder once more.

Becks.

After combing my hair off of my forehead, the lock screen of my phone wakes me up a little more. Especially when I see that it reads 1:18 am. Fuck, I need to get to my hotel and go to bed. I have my case tomorrow. But when I hear a noise and find the culprit, all of those thoughts wash away. An incoherent sound runs off of her lips, ones that are so close to me. Fuck, again. But when my eyes scan the rest of my body, I realize that she’s all over me. Well, almost. Her right hand rests on my chest as she leans against the back of the sofa. But her pretty little head of dark hair is laying on my shoulder. My arm is around her, holding her close to me. I can feel her other arm tickling my side.

Memories float to the surface, and suddenly I’m back at the hospital in London. In December. A phone call woke me from my slumber beside her on the sofa. The both of us curled up on opposite sides. Sleep clinging to my eyes and begging to me to return to it. Her shoulders rising with every soft snore, but it was the most daintiest one I’d ever heard. It felt like my heart was being squeezed tighter with every move I made to leave her. When I draped the second blanket over her. And how much it hurt to move the hair off of her face. To press a kiss to her unknowing head. But nothing compared to the anguish I felt grow with every step I put between us.

Blinking hard, the dark room materializes around me again. Her precious snores welcome my return to the moment. A smile brings my lips upwards as I watch a crease grow between her eyebrows. She’s too goddamn adorable. And that’s why I came, isn’t it? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t resist her. I can’t say no to Becky. When she called me crying and a mess worrying about her dad, I didn’t know what I was doing until I was putting the town of Madley into my GPS. I guess The Beatles were right with that one song, and plenty of others. She’s really got a hold on me. And before I could begin to stop myself, her skin is like velvet under my thumb. I rub the crease away with the pad of it, and suddenly my head dips. My lips barely brush her hair when she groans below me.

“Harry?” she murmurs, lifting her head from my shoulder.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

She yawns, moving away to look around sleepily. But soon she returns back to my arms, cozying up to me once more. And I couldn’t be more thankful, or conflicted. The latter word drills into my mind as I rub a hand down her back, sleep trying to coax me back in, too.

“We fell asleep,” she mumbles, her honey voice coated in that very word. Fuck, does it make me feel things. Things that I’d much rather not.

“Yeah, ‘s one in tha mornin’.”

“Shitttt,” she sighs, sitting up fast. Her growing locks pour over her shoulders covered by a crewneck jumper. Faded pictures of balls from different sports are scattered across the heather gray fabric. Like something my dad wore when I was a tot. “You have your case tomorrow.”

“‘m fine, I already dropped me stuff off at tha hotel an’ got me key,” I tell her, missing the warmth of her against me. And I miss the fact in those words alone of what I’m missing. Her in my arms. “But ya should prolly get sum sleep, too. Seems like ya’ve been missin’ it lately.”

“I’m okay, just lots of homework,” Becky says, running her long fingers through her wavy hair.

“‘d offa me hotel room, but ‘s half an hour ‘way in Wolverhampton. An’ there’s only tha one bed,” I tell her, unsure of why. I blame it on the sleepy brain.

“Thanks, but I’m okay. I’ll just sleep on the couch in his room. It’s not too bad once you get used to it,” she assures me. Her arms crack as she stretches them toward the ceiling. I can’t help myself when the baggy jumper rides up, exposing the slightest of her milky white tummy. Fuck. But just like that, it’s gone in a flash. If only my feelings worked that way.

It’s like she has some sixth sense that I’m thinking about her, because her eyes cast over to me. It’s hard to make out their ocean blue in this dark, but I know they’re there. I can picture them if I need to, because I do it all the time - trying to make myself remember what they look like. The exact shade. The speckles of darker blue amongst the color.

“Yer welcome,” I return. The tired smile I get in return melts my insides like butter. But that’s how I feel when I’m around her, and that’s how much of a hold she’s got on me.

Shocks of electricity dance across the back of my hand. I don’t need to look down to know her hand is on top of mine. And how it’s making me go crazy. She’s only a few inches away. I could do it. Before I stop myself, I begin to lean in, and she watches me do it. But with only a few seconds left, we jump apart at the sound of a ringtone.

Embarrassment covers me like a dark cloud, among other nasty emotions. My head falls, hiding the heat rising to my cheeks. Pulling out my phone to distract myself, it doesn’t do that great of a job as I hear her talk to somebody on the phone. Dammit, I was so close. With a hand in my hair, I scroll through emails. Deleting some and saving others.

“Sorry, that was Robbie. Just checking in, since I forgot to update him, I guess,” Becky tells me, lifting my head with her voice.

My head only goes up and down, avoiding eye contact. Because I can’t muster it after what just happened, or what didn’t.

“‘s late, ya should get sum rest,” I announce, getting to my feet. Picking up my coat, I slip it on before I dare to look at her.

She smiles shyly at me, sleep hanging around her eyes. Even rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her jumper is precious. And her legs jittering in her faded blue jeans. Vans the shade of her favorite color donning her feet.

“Yeah, you too,” is all she has to say.

Suddenly, I don’t know what to do. For a mere second, I entertain the thought of trying again. But fuck it, she’s so far away right now, figuratively and literally. I can catch a hint of her scent sticking to me, and it makes me sad to realize.

“Go get sum sleep, ‘kay?” Are the only words I can think of as I walk up to her and pat her arm.

“Yeah, you too, Harry. Careful driving.”

“Thanks, Becks, I will. Sweet dreams, love,” I mutter, looking at her over my shoulder.

And I keep walking, and leave her behind. Regrets coursing through my ears, and emotions tugging at my seams. The tiredness coating my every thought and action, only make it all the worse. I’m not sure if I want to wake up more for the car drive to the hotel, because then it will all feel even more real. And discouraging.

“Harry?” stopping in my tracks, I hear her call my name. Spinning around, I feel her before I see her. Her arms surround around my waist and her head comes to lay against my chest. All within seconds. “Thank you . . . for coming.”

A pain sounds in my chest when I hear the emotion in her voice. And it takes all of me to not echo it, because I know I could. And that I would. Instead I say, “Yer welcome, Becks,” and I do at least one thing I wanted to do tonight. Dipping my head, I smooth down her hair and press my lips to her hair for more than a few seconds.

The sweet smell of orange blossom greets me, and my smile is havoced by pain. Her warm breaths tickle the skin at my neck as my hands lace together at the small of her back. Her arms squeeze me around the middle before releasing, and she lets go of me. I think about trying again, but the thought is fleeting when she begins to walk away from me.

And I let her do it. Once again.

The burbling of the running water fills my ears. Well, besides the sound of the football match. Surprise, surprise. And the next sound. His cheering. It makes me smile as I wipe my hands with a paper towel.

“What’s the score now?” I ask, walking back into the room. His eyes don’t go to me at the question, instead they remain on the screen.

“Six-two. It doesn’t look too good for ‘em,” my dad replies snarkily, a devilish glint in his eyes. But it’s there, and that’s all that matters. It’s what makes the smile stick to my face.

“Don’t let your food get cold,” I say, bending over to dig into my backpack.

“I’m done eating. You can have the rest, Ree,” he replies just as I feel the smooth handle I’m searching for.

“I’m okay, thanks. I was probably going to check out the special in the cafe.”

“Oh so only I have to eat the hospital food?” my dad whines, pouting at me when I look at him.

With a laugh, I remark, “I’m eating their food in the cafe too, you dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry, chemo brain,” he replies, tapping a finger against his head. A striped green hat keeping it warm. His arm returns to the white blanket pulled up to his waist. Light shines in his eyes and his arms lift into the air when they make yet another goal.

Whoops and hollers leave his chapped lips. But this morning, they’re pinker. And so is his skin. If only in the slightest, I notice them. Running the brush through my knotted hair, I yawn as I watch him. A patterned hospital gown covers his upper half, with the sleeves just coming to above the IVs in his left arm. Fluids and meds. The antibiotics. Yippee.

But the thoughts are mulled over when I look to his plate sitting on the moveable tray beside him. It was scrambled eggs, toast, applesauce, and milk this morning. And he ate nearly half of it, even if it took about half an hour. But I want to blame part of that on the football match his eyes are stuck to.

“I’m going to see if I can find your doctor. I had a question,” I tell him, dropping my hairbrush back into my backpack.

“Ree, don’t worry about it. He’ll come by later,” my dad insists, but I stand from my chair regardless of his answer.

“It’s fine. I need to stretch my legs anyways.”

He hums a reply I can’t decode, but I hear his teasing about blocking the telly when I walk by. Over my shoulder, he flashes me a small smile before returning to yelling lazily at the referees. Nurses and doctors pass me, going to and from rooms to the nearby nurse’s station. Tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear, I search for the shock of white hair of my dad’s doctor.

But no such luck.

As I approach the nurse’s station, sounds of beeping, call lights, and murmuring voices fill the air. But another sound stands out from the rest. And I hear my name, or well my last name. It takes me a second to locate where it’s coming from, but when I do there’s a flutter in my chest. And I know I’m in trouble, or maybe that I’m just realizing it now after all of this time.

But I don’t save him right away, and instead I observe. Confusion sews his eyebrows together over those misty green eyes. One lone curl tickles his forehead, breaking free from his damp hair. His black peacoat is draped over his arm clad in a warm violet blazer. A dusty rose button down peeks out from its collar, and I smile. I don’t even know why. But as the seconds tick by watching him talk to the nurse, I think I know why.

“Looking for me, Styles?” I pipe up, stepping forward with my hands hidden away in my hoodie.

Harry’s eyes fall from the nurse and pan over to me. A lazy smile works its way onto his face quickly, only interrupted to thank the nurse.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, turning to walk towards me.

“What are you doing here? You have your case today, you said,” I respond, playing with the sleeve of my black hoodie. The cracked decal of Robbie’s old band covers the front.

“Came t’ bring ya out t’ brekky. Me case doesn’t start ‘til tha aftanoon, bug,” he responds with half of a smile, pinching my arm affectionately. And there’s that nickname, again, I think as my insides turn to mush. “Well jus’ down t’ tha cafe if tha’s alright. I saw sumthin’ ‘bout biscuits ‘n gravy, an’ sumthin’ smelled mighty delicious when I came in.”

“That sounds great,” I say, a smile inching its way up my lips. The wet ends of my hair knock against each other, and my chin. “I’ll just let my dad know,” I tell him, turning around to walk away.

But after only a few steps, a sudden thought brings me to halt. It wills my feet to turn around and look at Harry. “Would you like to meet him?” I ask tentatively in a meek voice. “He’s doing a little better this morning, but I think that’s thanks to the Arsenal match on the telly.”

With what appears to be a shaky smile, he replies, “‘d love t’. Hope ‘s not me Manchester United boys playin’ ‘gainst ‘em.”

Waving a hand towards me, he closes the distance between us. His leather boots squeak from the last bits of melting April snow. It’s only a few moments before I peek my head into his room, and low and behold, he’s still transfixed by the match.

Rapping my knuckle against the door, I get his attention before saying, “Hey, can I steal you away from your precious game for a few? There’s a friend of mine I’d like you to meet.”

“Yeah, sure,” he responds, adjusting his blankets before the telly’s volume falls. Over my shoulder, I shoot Harry an encouraging smile. He returns it, but I can see the nerves showing through.

Pushing open the door fully, I walk in and he follows from behind.

“Dad, this is Harry Styles. My uh, former boss I’ve told you about,” I fumble for words, giving a magician-like wave to him. Well, the right words. “He stopped by last night and brought me dinner. He has a case today in Wolverhampton, and we’re going to get breakfast downstairs before.”

A weary smile curls at the corners of my dad’s lips. Nodding, his dusty pink lips part, “Ah, so this is the fella you were with until all hours last night,” he jests, pulling nervous laughter into the air. “Yes, it’s about time we met. I’ve heard a lot about you, son. Thanks for everything you’ve done for Becky, and for your well wishes. It’s meant a whole damn lot to me, and I know for her too.”

Okay, dad, let’s not board the emotional bus yet. Or maybe, ever.

Happy laughs float around the room as Harry steps forward, rubbing hand sanitizer into his hands. “‘s a pleasure t’ meet ya as well, sir,” he rasps, reaching out to shake my dad’s hand firmly.

“Call me Chuck, Harry. I’m not that old yet, although sometimes it feels that way,” my dad jokes, widening the smiles on all of our faces.

“Yes, ‘course, Chuck. I’ve also heard loads ‘bout ya, all good things, so no worries. Ya’ve been in me prayers an’ thoughts ova tha last 7 months. Sure raised a great daughter, ya should know.”

A permanent smile warms my cheeks as I shyly look over to Harry. He meets my eyes and smiles back at me. Winking, he shove his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Thank you, son. That’s mighty good to hear, although I’m not too sure about that son of mine sometimes,” he laughs, soon getting a scoff from me.

“Oh I mean Robbie, too. I’ve only met tha bloke once or twice, but I was impressed. Certainly since I was surprised t’ find out Becky hadda twin,” Harry comments, his eyes burning a hole into my cheek.

“Yes, I think I’ve heard that story. Their mother and I were pretty surprised to find there was two, also,” he chuckles. “But Ree likes to do that sometimes.”

Shaking my head, I look away and to the Spring sunshine. It seeps in through the cracks in between the window shades. Their soft laughs fill my ears before Harry’s voice does again.

“Yeah she’s a spitfire, alright,” he comments, and finally I meet his smirking eyes before they return to my dad. “But ‘m glad t’ hear yer doin’ a bit betta. Hopefully they can get a good handle on dis soon, an’ you lot can go home.”

“Thank you. We hope so too,” my dad nods, running his thumb along the buttons of the tv remote. “I truly appreciate you taking the time to be here with Becky . . I know it means more than words to her.”

Looking away to the floor, his words find the chink in my armor. I feel the lump rise in my throat along with memories of last night. Luckily, the tears stay away and I get away with it.

“‘Course, ‘m glad I was able t’ come an’ be with her. Dunno if she told ya, but she was there fer me when my grandad was in tha hospital befo’ he passed. An’ well, I know how much it means t’ ‘ave sumbody there,” Harry murmurs, almost giving a reason for the tears to make an appearance. But they don’t, and I’m repeating ‘thank yous’ inside of my head.

“I’m pretty proud of my little Rebecca Ann, and it only grows more every day,” my dad comments, flitting his eyes over to me. His words make my cheeks tingle with a new blush and because I know another pair are on me, too.

“Yeah, she makes it ratha easy,” Harry agrees softly, pulling my attention to him. The gentlest smile sits atop his lips, and a sad sweetness twinkles in his eyes.

“Well, we’ll let you get back to your match. We’re going to grab breakfast before everybody else gets the same idea,” I pipe in, unsure of when and how to sever the moment. But the look in Harry’s eyes does something to me, and I don’t know what to do with it.

We exchange short goodbyes before I’m following Harry out of the room. The rising volume of the football announcers voices send us on our way.

“Rebecca Ann, huh?” Harry smiles beside me, the nurse’s station in our rearview mirrors.

“Go ahead and make jokes about it. It doesn’t even sound like my name, I don’t know. I’ve only ever went by that for forms, when I got in trouble, or like on the first day of school and graduation. And the Ann is just my middle name, I don’t have a two parter,” I explain hurriedly, surprising myself when I don’t hear one of his delightful giggles. Tearing my eyes away from the poster at the end of the hallway, I look to him. And he isn’t laughing, which confuses me.

“There’s no jokes t’ be had. I think ‘s pretty, yer name. Figured ya were a Rebecca, but wasn’t sure. Nor did I know yer middle was Ann. Tha’s my mum’s name, ‘ve always loved it,” he tells me, coming to a stop in front of the gunmetal colored doors of the lift. The sickeningly sweet look on his face sends the butterflies in my tummy to flight. Again.

“Oh thanks,” I almost blurt, pressing the button to go down. But then as we step into the welcoming lift, more come to me. “It was my grandmother’s name. It always made me feel closer to her, like I always had a piece of her with me.”

“Tha’s nice. ‘ve always liked it when parents carry on family names like dat. It makes me think ‘d like t’ do tha same with me own kids one day,” Harry continues as I watch the doors shut, cutting us off from the rest of the world. If only for a few minutes. But still.

“Me too.”

“So nobody ever calls ya Becca?” Harry inquires, catching my attention.

“Eh, not really. Maybe Skye sometimes, and my grandma Ann did, but not much anymore.”

“Hmm maybe ‘ll hafta use it then,” he quips, but then he wears a confused smile he pulled out of thin air. “Eh I dunno, actually. Ya’ll always be me Becks,” he finishes, making my heart do a dance. And fueling the angel and demon having a party inside of my head.

“Yeah, I agree. Anything else would sound weird.”

“Ya look like ‘im, ya know. Tha eyes, tha hair, and tha shape o’ yer face - bloody spitting image ya are. ‘Specially Robbie,” Harry acknowledges.

“We get that a lot, but thanks, I like to hear it. Sometimes I can’t see it, though,” I recall. “Which parent do you look like?”

“Um, dunno. I get comments ‘bout lookin’ like both o’ me parents. I guess I mostly ‘ave people say I look like me dad with sum o’ my mum’s features. Which sounds wild.”

“Yeah, I can relate with people saying I look like my dad. It’s like, oh thanks for saying I look like a boy,” I laugh. Turning to look at him on my left, a small one sputters from his smiling cherry lips.

“I know, ‘s weird.”

“I can see it, though. How people think you look like him,” I tell him. When I watch his lips settle into a silent, straight line, I feel instant regret. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, ‘s okay. Jus’ hard hearin’ people say ya look like sumbody ya don’ like.”

A small ‘oh’ passes over my lips before I can stop it. My eyes leave him and go to the changing red number above my head. Words bubble up inside of me, and I tell them to stop. But then I can’t.

“I think I know how you feel,” I murmur, daring to look over at him, her face flashing in my mind. His far away eyes lift from the floor and pan over to me.

I try not to lose myself in their infinity of green, but it’s worthless. And soon I am, and thoughts of last night leak from my memories.

I know it’s at the back of his mind too. That almost kiss. The one he tried to initiate, and the one I want so bad. Five months ago, I don’t know if I would’ve. But now in this moment and in this elevator, all alone with him, I couldn’t want something more.

Or somebody.

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the-angry-pixie · 4 years ago

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Just a buttload of questions

I was tagged by the lovely @jessiohhh. Thank you chickadee. Took me forever to finish, but I got there. :D

Apparently this is to help you get to know your tumblr peeps better.

Gonna put most of these under a cut to save y’alls dashes.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? I guess if I had to choose it would be black. I don’t know why. A good black ballpoint is a lovely thing to have.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? Depends what stage of my life I am in. I want to retire to the country but otherwise wanna live in the city.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? To sew and make clothes. Gosh how different my life (and my wardrobe) would be if I could fix clothes, alter clothes, MAKE clothes. I want this skill so much!

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Don’t drink coffee. My tea has half a sugar. I worked my way all the way down from two sugars and I’m proud. :)

5. What was your favourite book as a child? My Dad used to read me Enid Blyton books when I was little. My favourite series was probably The Naughtiest Girl in the School series.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Definitely showers. I want to like baths, but whenever I take one I just feel sweaty and gross.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? A fairy. I’ve been obsessed with fairies since I was little.

8. Paper or electronic books? Probably electronic books. Easier to read and travel.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? Gosh I don’t know. I literally sat here thinking about it for a couple of minutes and I can’t pick a favourite. I guess by default it falls to the item that I wear the MOST which would be my black combat boots. I wear them almost constantly.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? Nah I tend to think Laura is a bit boring. I like my middle name Eileen though.

11. Who is a mentor to you? I’m kind of without one at the moment. Thats just the situation my current life is in right now.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? I would like to be “Author Famous”. Like have soooooo much money, and dedicated fans who like my work. But nobody recognises me in the street.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Yes.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? No, not in the conventional sense.

15. Which element best represents you? I wish I was earth but I would say probably water. Can be dangerous or calm. Flexible.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? Hmmm I feel bad that I’m not closer to my godson. But ya see, he’s an annoying lil shit. At least the stage he’s going through right now is really obnoxious. So spending time with him is just... not fun.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? All my Canada friends.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I’ve talked about early childhood memories on here a lot. I don’t want to repeat a story so lemme think a moment..... I remember being obsessed with pressing buttons when I was younger. I mean, most kids are. But you see my family lived on a dairy farm, and in the dairy where we milked the cows and stored the milk there was like... a WALL OF BUTTONS. And levers, and switches and other doo-dads. And like... I just wanted to press them all. But I wasn’t allowed. Obviously. Only at certain times during the day would my father call me over and lift me up so I could press one particular button. So yeah, I remember that. “Helping” my Dad in the dairy and being excited whenever I got to press the buttons. I never even got old enough to learn what the buttons did before we moved off our farm. :(

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? Hmmm, probably escargot. Snails. They were delicious.

20. What are you most thankful for? My newborn nephew.

21. Do you like spicy food? Yes. But spicy food does not like me.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Yeah last year I was working on a feature film that had a Disney starlet working on it.

23. Do you keep a diary or journal? No way. Too hard. The only time I keep journals is for really important stuff that needs documentation. Like a medical journal when I’m sick. Or an anxiety journal when my GAD gets real bad.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? Pen I guess.

25. What is your star sign? Libra

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Bit of both. If you can get a mouthful with both then thats like... bliss.

27. What would you want your legacy to be? Do I need to want it to be anything? Cause I don’t. Like I don’t really care all that much. Maybe I will later in life.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I dont think its accurate to say I like reading when I literally never do it anymore. Except for fanfic. I listen to audiobooks a bit. I just finished listening to The Stand by Stephen King.

29. How do you show someone you love them? Cuddles, I’m a cuddler.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Yes.

31. What are you afraid of? Wasted potential and never really getting where I want to get.

32. What is your favourite scent? That smell after a sun shower. Everything is wet and the sun is making it evaporate into the atmosphere. Love that smell.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? Not to be cheeky but like, context is a thing. Depends on the context.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? Not terribly different. I would still work. I guess I would travel a lot more. Since that is something that I would love to do but can’t because I don’t have the funds.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Theyre both the same level of scary to me. Yes, I suffer from an irrational fear of pool sharks. So I guess I would go ocean because at least with the ocean you have the surf waves to make it fun.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? Look around to see if someone had dropped it, then if there was no one, pocket it.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yes. Last time I went camping there was a meteor shower. Wait, do they count as shooting stars? If not then no.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? Compassion.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I want to get a bunch of babies-breath flowers tattooed in the middle of my back. Its so specific because I plan my tattoos for a long time before I get them.

40. What can you hear now? The fish tank filter at my brothers house.

41. Where do you feel the safest? In my bedroom. In my bed. Laptop and phone and kitty nearby.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? My fear of relationships and emotional intimacy.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? I honestly don’t know. There are a lot of cool places (but like, usually only if youre in the upperclass). Ancient Greece maybe? Jane Austen era? Woodstock? I can’t decide.

44. What is your most used emoji? This lil dude. 🙃 I prefer it to the regular smiley face.

45. Describe yourself using one word. eclectic

46. What do you regret the most? Not having my mental health issues diagnosed at an earlier age.

47. Last movie you saw? In the cinemas? A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood back in January (actually got my wallet out and looked at my ticket stubs). Just in general - I watched The Florida Project last night with my bro.

48. Last tv show you watched? My Little Pony. Been watching episodes to help me fall asleep.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Derp-a-derp. My bro and I have been saying that over the last few days when we can’t remember the word we are trying to say. Like “go get me the derp-a-derp” or “what was I saying about the derp-a-derp”. Its a good placeholder.

-----

Annnnnd imma taaaaaaag.... like I said, this is a long one so no pressure (it took me like a week to get through all the questions).... anyway I tag @hichie, @thepragmaticrebel, @heavensdick and @serendipitous-magic.

#meme things

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dayasbun · 5 years ago

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Fame - Angus Cloud (3)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 {reading now}

Well, needless to say you got the role.

The final run through with Drake was successful, he started spewing off about how talented you were. You did your usual which was smile and nod, and Angus told you to "Stop being so shy mamas. You gotta get used to this."

Time flew as you turned in forms, focused on moving closer to set, and grew your social media audience. It was all exciting but also overwhelming, however you already loved it.

You and Angus seemed to be getting more comfortable with each other, the tension was wearing off and a simple friendship was forming. The luxury apartment you were moving into for when filming ceased was conveniently just a few doors down from his apartment, you two were going to be in the same complex. You talked quite often and filming hadn't even started yet, and you almost felt silly for feeling intimidated, if that was even the word, by him before. He'd offered to come over to help you move in- and even though the tension had faded, your {sometimes} inappropriate thoughts of him hadn't.

But today was the day everything kicked into gear, because today was the first day of filming.

You and Angus decided to meet up at a small, locally owned coffee shop before heading to set. You could both go together, and since he offered to drive, you could save some gas.

You got there early, you two were to meet at 7:30 am, you were there at 7:25 due to leaving time to dodge the traffic. Angus came through the door yawning at 8:17- due to oversleeping.

"Do you always do this?" you laughed sliding a donut over to him as he sat down across from you in the booth.

"Do what?" he asked, eating half of the donut in one big bite.

"Are you always late- like on set? Because most of my scenes are with you and I-"

"You think ahead a lot, I just like sleeping, you should like it too you feel what I mean? Sleep is just that bitch...if there was a girl like sleep then I would have a girl."

Half of the time the things Angus came up with made zero sense to you, but you always just agreed and moved along. For example, yesterday night he called you at 12:32 am just to let you know that the Frosted Flakes box had 'of corn' in small writing under the bold logo. You said you'd never noticed that- which was the truth, and then that led to him telling you the complete history of Mandela effects. You didn't get back to bed until 1:54.

"And to be fair Y/N, you kept me up last night with that Mandela effect shit." he said with a smirk as he finished off the donut.

Your mouth fell open as you rolled your eyes "Boy as if! You wish I-"

"So you quoting 90s movies now? That's new, don't really know how I feel ab-"

"Lets go," you shook your head standing up and tossing your coffee cup into the garbage.

You two walked out and into the warm LA air. "You read the scripts at all?" He asked you as you headed to his car.

"I did! We have a lot of scenes...some are quite different."

"What you mean? Not boutta lie I didn't read anything past the first episode cuz them other shits too far away."

"Well, sex is always a given in Euphoria."

"Yeah them nude scenes finna make me feel a bit violated if you know what I mean."

"You'll be fine, all you show is your ass but I have to-"

"Oh shit I gotta show my cheeks? For real? On television- aw nah I gotta talk to somebody about tha-"

"I have to show everything except my baby maker so...who really has it worse?"

"Yo' baby maker? Is that them gorgeous eyes cuz it sure does make me want to make a baby wit' you."

Was that a joke-

He did this alot. You never knew if he was actually flirting or if it was just him joking around, but you always assumed it was the latter.

"Was that a...was that a joke from you Angus? How rare!"

He flipped you off with a goofy grin at the next red light and you laughed. "No all jokes aside though Gus, I gotta show my whole body, titties and all. Like my parents are going to watch this how do I? Explain?"

“Well we can fuck wit’ all that when we get to it.”

“Oh baby...” You said sarcastically. “You didn't actually read the first episodes script did you?”

“What you mean?”

You pulled the script from out of your tote, clearing your throat before you started to read. “Jess looks at Fez with a gleam of interest in her eyes. ‘Its been awhile tiger’ she says in a certain way, a way that makes Fez adjust his- yeah I’m not reading that- ‘It has’ Fez says biting his lip. He wants her, but he doesn't know if she wants him too...he thinks she doe-”

“We gotta have sex the first episode? Nah you lying.”

“Episode 1, 3, 5, 7 and 8.”

“Holy shit what?! Aint nobody have that much sex last season...”

“Yeah but its because of our storyline. Jess and Fez constantly want each other and they think the only way to let it out is through sex- they are both terrible with commitment and Jess is afraid of Fez’s dealing; even if she wants to be with him that's keeping her away.”

“Damn, my manz Fez gettin’ the short end of the stick.”

“Jess is the only one getting a short stick Angus.”

It took him a minute to understand what you said, but as soon as he comprehended it his eyes widened. “Girl no you didnt- you know I’m packing- how you gon’ do me like that?!” he said defensively as he parked. You couldn't help but to laugh as you hurried out of the car. “Imma get you back for that!” He yelled after you. You shook your head and walked to the main trailer where everyone was to gp.

Walking in you saw only Z and Storm, Queen Bey played softly in the background showing the girls in front of you were in their element. “Hey girl!” Z said giving you a quick side hug. “Dont worry about being late, its all good. You came with Angus didn't you?”

You nodded whilst rolling your eyes and took the key she was holding out, walking back out and to your trailer.

The trailer was cozy, comfortable and not too small. It had quite a modern look to it, and the look on the outside didn't match the inside at all. You smiled as you sat on the sofa, seeing a white envelope on the glass table. On it was scribbled ‘Angus and Y/N’. Before you could get up to go over to his trailer, he walked in- no invitation, no knock, no anything. “Gee!!!! Good thing I wasn’t naked!” You said sarcastically as you glared at him.

“Yeah whateva. We gotta read this letter together I guess.” He said plopping down beside you.

“Yeah yeah okay, I can read it out loud.” You said cracking open the envelope and pulling out the bright white printer paper. “Okay here we go...it's from...Drake?”

“Ah shit.”

“Don’t worry yet, it's probably just- let me just read.”

Angus nodded and got more comfortable on the sofa as you started to read. “Angus and Y/N. On behalf of your upcoming roles I wanted to tell you guys to loosen up. Theres alot of sexy time to film, and I don't want the viewers to feel the sexual tension from Angus and Y/N, I want them to feel it radiating from Jess and Fez. Make kissing casual, make being naked around each other casual too. Don't make that shit weird. And Angus, make sure you can get it up. If it takes...oh-” you stopped for a moment.

“What?” Angus looked at you and you cocked your head to one side still inspecting the letter.

“Okay- here, he said: If it takes walking around each other unclothed then do it, take care of that tension between you two. I could feel it in the final run through, meaning that the viewers would be able to sense it as well. I'm only saying all this cuz its your first time filming together. I need art, not high school production shit. You guys have the passion, and you click. But there's something missing. Make the fuck out and get this show on the road. I'm always a call away if its not working out-- Drake.”

“Well damn. What he tryna say?”

“Angus it's clear what he's saying- I mean come on I feel the tension between us too, and I don't know what it is but hes right, whatever it is we need to get over it, and move on from that. This is business- an art form we have to work through. Ight?”

“Ight. So what I’m hearing is we gotta make out and get naked.”

“We aren't doing anything until ya girl takes a nap.”

“How you sleepy we just got here and you woke up 3 hours ago?”

“Listen man it is not my fault I only got 4 and a half hours of sleep-”

“SO you tryna say it’s mine?!” “It is! With your mandela effecr loving ass.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Okay okay, fair. But lemme sleep wit’ you.” “What? Why?”

“You the one that read the letter, we gotta drop this tension lil mama. And if we legit just sleeping, ion see nun wrong wit’ it, do you?”

You thought it over, and he had a point. There was nothing wrong with it, sleeping is sleeping...and besides, you two would have to do much worse.

“Whatever, come on.”

“Let’s go to my trailer though.”

“What? Why? Ion wanna walk come on Angu-”

“I can carry you then. But my place more homey, you just got here and your bed ain’t even got sheets.”

Damn, why is he always right? “Okay fine but carry me.”

He hunched down in front of the sofa “Get on my back and we can go.”

You grabbed your phone getting onto his back and holding on tight, your arms around his neck and your thighs squishing his sides. “Go go go!” You giggled, feeling safe as you rested your chin on the top of his head.

He ran to the trailer, causing you to laugh and hold on even tighter. Dropping you onto the bed, he looked around the small trailer-bedroom for more covers.

“You know girl,” he said looking into the closet “You kinda cute. How you was laughing out there had my heart beating fast and shit.” He found a throw and turned back around to ask you if it was good, but you were already out, completely sound asleep, and cuddled into a pillow. “Damn so you ain't hear none o’ that huh?” He sighed. “Probably better on my end. Can’t be catching feelings and shit.” He covered you over and lay beside you.

In your sleep your body detected the body heat, so you unknowingly turned over, cuddling into his chest. A smile formed on your lips as you moved closer, practically wrapping yourself around him.

The man sighed placing his lips to your forehead and leaving a light kiss. “Yeah. No catching feelings.”

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins

#fezco #fezco fic #fezco euphoria #fez euphoria #fezco fluff #fezco x reader #angus cloud #angus cloud fic #fanfic #hbo euphoria #euphoria

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legolaslovely · 5 years ago

Text

Mistakes Part 1

A/N: Have some more vampire boyfriend feels because I am so pissed at this show (so I’m rewriting it! WHOOO). Mitchell deserves so much better and I can’t deal with how much his character has changed since the first season. So this is first season baby Mitchell if anyone was wondering lol. Hope you guys enjoy.

Pairing: Mitchell x Reader

Word Count: 3,356

Warnings: Spoilers for show, language, talk of blood, violence, fluff, allusions to smut

Summary: Mitchell takes his girl out for drinks to forget about his troubles, but his troubles follow them.

Mistakes Masterlist

God fucking damn it. This day had gone from bad to worse. The worst he could imagine, really. All he wanted was to spend some time with this completely normal, human girl who had his heart, despite everything he did to keep it for himself. He had a whole hour of her smile, her laugh, her hands on him, and now she was in someone else’s grip, barely breathing with tears stuck in her eyes. How did this happen? He went back to the start.

He never expected leading a group of unruly vampires would be this hard. But he never expected to actually be doing it either. Once Herrick was gone, of course it became his job to keep the vampires of Bristol in line. He could never let things lie or leave the job to someone else. These things always fell to him. Mistake number one.

Mistake number two and three came quickly. He thought he would be accepted as leader. He thought they would listen to him and learn to go without blood. He learned very quickly none of that would happen. He had spent the day planning, threatening and even killing one of his own. He needed an escape. He needed (Y/N).

He left the funeral parlor, took a cigarette from the box in his pocket and lit the end, hiding it from the wind in his gloved hands. He crossed the street and slammed his fist on the hood of a car that almost ran him over. The driver honked and cursed him but Mitchell gave no answer, he just continued down the street. He took a drag, holding the burn in his lungs and breathing out all his frustrations and troubles of the day. He refused to bring them to her.

He fumbled with his keys as he stood outside the door to the house. He smirked, listening to the voices inside.

“No one would be fooled by that, even I knew that was fake,” he heard George say.

“You did not, George. Don’t even lie.” Mitchell grinned when he heard (Y/N)’s voice. She never took any of George’s shit.

“Well, just look at it!” George yelled.

Mitchell stomped out his cigarette and pushed the door open. (Y/N), George and Annie were piled on the couch, hands out and pointing to the small television across from them. None of them noticed him enter. He shut the door and snuck around the couch and sat on its arm next to (Y/N). She turned and grinned.

“Look what George found in the bin at the old video store. The entire series of The Real Hustle on DVD. Can you believe it?” She grabbed his arm in her exhilaration. He knew she was more excited for him to watch it than anything else.

“The whole thing?” he asked.

“The whole thing!” She almost screamed. She shoved the DVD case in his hands. “No more checking the guide every Thursday. You guys can watch it whenever you want.”

“George, you spoil me,” he said. He laughed when George waved his sarcasm away. Mitchell was actually quite happy with the find. He knew he hadn’t seen every episode in the first season and could never seem to catch up. But he knew it wasn’t (Y/N)’s favorite thing to watch and she was only humoring him.

She stood. “Want some coffee or a beer or something? Where’d you go today?”

He followed her into the kitchen, ignoring the urge to grab her and take her to his room right then. “Had to stop by work.”

She hummed, unimpressed and unconvinced but she didn’t press him. She held out a beer bottle in question. He took it, putting it back in the door of the fridge and set his hands on her hips, pulling her back into his chest. “I was thinking…” He kissed her neck.

“What were you thinking?” He could hear the smile in her words.

“That we could either stay here and watch The Real Hustle with George pretending he knows everything,” he paused and listened to her soft laugh. “Or we could go to that bar around the corner you like and have a couple drinks there.”

“Tough choice,” she said. She turned in his arms and threw hers over his shoulders, kissing him. “Lemme fix my hair. I’ll be down in a sec.”

He watched her hurry up the stairs. Once she disappeared, he changed into the jacket he knew she liked him in.

“Where are you two going?” Annie asked.

“For a couple drinks. That good band is playing at the Hangar and I need to get out for a bit.”

Annie started to question, but George spoke over her. “You’re missing The Real Hustle,” he said without taking his eyes off the screen.

“That’s the joy of having it on DVD now, George.”

“I guess,” he said. Mitchell chuckled.

He turned and watched (Y/N) hop down the stairs. He noticed she had changed her shirt. He threw his arm around her shoulders and brought her to him to kiss her hair.

“See you two later,” she said.

George and Annie sang goodbye to them as Mitchell pulled (Y/N) through the door. He closed it and left all his thoughts of vampires inside. That was his next mistake.

They sat on the corner of the bar away from most of the other people. He ordered her favorite drink and watched her bop her head along to the band. Her lips barely moved as she sung the words. After he paid for the drinks, he scooted his chair closer to her.

“So, are you gonna tell me what went on today?” she asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said, sipping from his glass and glancing at the band.

She smirked and set a hand on his arm. “John Mitchell, I know when you’re stressed, babe. So you can either tell me now when I’m buzzed or tell me later when I’m hungover. I promise the latter will be worse.” She kissed where his jaw met his ear.

He breathed out a laugh. “There’s really no need to scare you. I just want you to have a good time tonight.”

“We will do that once you tell me what’s going on. I’m not scared, you know that.”

He knew she wouldn’t let this go. She played with his fingers as he told her. He had taken on the role of leader because he was the only one capable of it. The vampires had been playing with him, pushing back, so to send a message he killed one of his own. Now they respected him and he hated himself.

She nodded, ran her fingers through his curls and asked him if he wanted another drink. This is what he loved about her, she always knew exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t know himself. She knew when to listen, when to discuss, and when to just ignore things for a few hours. She turned to the bartender and ordered two shots of bourbon.

They clinked their glasses and downed the fiery liquor. She hopped off the stool and grabbed his hand. He gladly followed her to the middle of the packed floor, taking in the curve of her hips and the sway of her hair. When she was happy with their placement in front of the band, she turned and threw her arm over his shoulders. He couldn’t help but kiss her.

His hands found their place on her hips and they swayed to the music. He was surrounded by drunk, sweaty humans but no one emitted heat like her. He was addicted to it. Underneath the music in his ears, the sound of her heartbeat and the blood rushing through her veins pounded through his body. His lips attached to her neck and he felt her flush in embarrassment. She hated this kind of public display but she let it slide for him.

Song after song ended and new ones began. A new voice of the band rang out through the bar and Mitchell chuckled. (Y/N) looked up at him and he pushed her hair behind her ear. “I used to listen to this song on an 8-track.”

She listened and circled her hips to the new beat. “God, you’re old.”

He laughed and spun her so her bottom was pressed against him. He spoke into her ear. “Too old to please you?”

He didn’t hear her hum but felt the vibration. “Absolutely not.” Her hand swung around his head and grasped at his hair, pulling him down for a wet kiss. Then she giggled and leaned back on his shoulder. “I would have loved to have seen you in the seventies. I bet you were the hottest guy around. Walking sex.”

His laugh fanned over the skin on her neck. “If bell bottoms and messy hair do it for ya.”

“Oh, they do.”

When the song ended, she spun in his arms. He asked her if she wanted another drink.

“Yes please,” she said with a sweet kiss. “I’m gonna duck into the bathroom first though.”

He let her leave his embrace and immediately wanted her back in it. He watched her make her way through the crowd until she disappeared into the sea of people. That was his worst mistake.

It only took a moment for him to get the drinks. The floor waved a bit underneath him as he waited for her, leaning on the wall next to the restrooms. He bobbed his head to the music, tried to decide if he wanted another cigarette, and sipped on his drink. He hooted for the band when the next song ended. Then he almost dropped the drinks.

He heard (Y/N) scream him name through the door. He threw the glasses on the table next to him and ran into the women’s bathroom, almost taking the door off its hinges. Then he froze, immediately sober, watching (Y/N)’s own dark blood run down her neck.

“You may want to lock the door, sweetheart.” Daisy’s cool voice flitted from her red lips just behind (Y/N)’s shoulder.

His stomach flipped. He stared at (Y/N)’s apologetic eyes and wanted to scream. How did this happen? He let her out of his sight for one moment and now she was bleeding in Daisy’s grasp. He saw tears welling in her eyes and the red marks on her arms from Daisy’s nails. How long had she struggled before he heard her screams? His eyes narrowed. “Let her go.”

“But we’re having so much fun here,” Daisy said. She licked a stripe up (Y/N)’s neck, stopping the blood from dripping on her shirt. “Want a taste?”

Rage flooded his veins quicker than bourbon ever could. He stepped to them, ripping a sink from the wall and sending porcelain scattering all over the tile floor. “Daisy, I said let-”

“Careful,” she said. Her nails dug into (Y/N)’s skin and drew blood. “Don’t want to cause a scene.” She lifted her finger and sucked, watching Mitchell’s chest heave. She hummed. “God, I forgot how sexy you are when you’re angry with me.” Her eyes flashed black and she showed her fangs, ready to burrow back into (Y/N)’s neck.

He growled. “Let her go now or I will tear you to pieces.”

“As you did Kara?”

Mitchell’s brow furrowed. “Is that what this is about?”

“You’re the big chief now. Always have to send a message when one of us steps out of line. What are you gonna do once I kill your human?”

His comeback fizzled to nothing when he saw the tears falling down (Y/N)’s face. She sucked in a shaking breath and closed her eyes. He knew she was trying to gather herself instead of distracting him but he couldn’t drag his gaze from her.

“She says she’s not afraid of us,” Daisy said, staring at the blood dripping down (Y/N)’s neck. “But she seems terrified to me.” She bit down hard on the neck below her while she had the chance. (Y/N)’s screams bounced off the tiled walls of the room and shattered his heart.

He plowed into Daisy, peeling her claws off of (Y/N) and holding her against the wall by her neck. Though her lungs burned and her feet dangled above the ground, she stared into Mitchell’s dark eyes and smirked. “What are you gonna do to me, Mitchell?” she got out. Her red hair flowed over his hands and he felt her lungs twitch. He set her down, but his tight grip remained.

“Such a softy,” she said, twirling a lock of his hair on her finger. When he jerked away, she giggled. “Are you really gonna let me go after I bit your little human? Let me off with a warning? You know I’ll keep coming after her.”

She grunted when he slammed her head against the hard wall. “If you even look in her direction again I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

She licked her lips. He watched the blood gather on her tongue and then disappear. “Is this who you are now? The big boss? Killing anyone out of line in defense of your human friends?” She turned to (Y/N) and spat in her direction. “You don’t belong with them. You could rule the world if you just accepted who you are.”

“I know who I am.”

“You’re a vampire, Mitchell. A killer. You’ve never accepted that.”

He stared at her, refusing to argue. The smell of blood had filled the room and his mind with haze. He wouldn’t last much longer. The blood lust would make him do something he’d soon regret. He dropped her, watching her fall to the floor. “Go home, Daisy.” He turned and left her there.

(Y/N) was leaning against the door, holding pressure to her neck and fumbling with the lock on the door. He wished he could snap his fingers and get her out of here. He wished none of this had ever happened, that they had just stayed home and watched The Real Hustle, but he was sure Daisy would have found them another day. He was a few steps away from her when she screamed his name again.

Searing pain ripped through his neck. It was nothing he hadn’t felt before, but it still hurt like a bitch. Daisy had bit into him hard and her nails were digging into his face searching for bone. He knew he had to escape her or she’d tear him apart, take the regime of vampires for herself. All of Bristol would descend into hell. Worst of all, (Y/N) would watch him die and there’d be no one left to protect her.

He reached behind his back for Daisy, but couldn’t find a grip. He ran back and slammed her into the wall, but she wouldn’t budge. He was running out of ideas and time. Then Daisy screamed in his ear and her limbs went limp. She slid off his back and fell to the floor with a large dagger of porcelain in her neck. (Y/N) stood above her with shaking hands holding another slice of porcelain and ready to fire. He dragged her away, wrapped her in his jacket and led her out of the bar and into the street.

“Is she- I didn’t kill her? That wasn’t wooden,” (Y/N) said. Mitchell was astounded at her steady voice.

“No, she’s not dead.” They crossed the street, finding comfort in the bright lights above. “I’ll take you home, I’ll deal with her tomorrow. She won’t hurt you.” He zipped up his jacket around her as if she were a child.

“I—I want to stay with you. I want to go to the house.”

“No, I’m bringing you to yours.”

“I can’t go home, Mitchell. My neck is bleeding.”

He tripped over the curb and halted. Then he turned, leading her the other way. “You’ll stay with me.”

The walk back seemed miles long and when they finally reached the house, his shaking fingers couldn’t get his keys out of his pocket. He slammed his fist on the door, glancing over his shoulder.

(Y/N)’s hand covered his. “You’ll wake the neighborhood, Mitchell. She didn’t follow us.”

He nodded wildly and kissed her knuckles. When Annie opened the door, he just about threw (Y/N) inside.

“What’s happened? You’re both bleeding!” Annie shrieked.

“Daisy attacked (Y/N),” was all Mitchell could say. He wanted to continue. It’s all my fault. She’d be safer without me. I had to fall in love with her and bring her into this world. I had to go out instead of watching The Real Hustle, safe in this house. I had to bring her to that bar instead of staying home and having her safe in my bed. It’s all my fault.

Annie sat (Y/N) on the couch and pulled Mitchell’s jacket off her, but (Y/N) held it in her lap. Annie then vanished and reappeared with warm water and towels and held a mug of coffee that had been sitting on the table. “I made this not too long ago. Wait, no, this one.”

George ran down the stairs, falling off the last step. He took one look at all the blood and said he’d call Nina.

Mitchell didn’t leave (Y/N)’s side as Nina cared for both of them. Nina chatted on and on about nothing, unable to deal with the silence. Annie and George were left with their questions, but they knew not to push Mitchell when he was this wired. He was silent, busy wondering what was going on inside (Y/N)’s head. He watched the small smiles she sent to Nina and the winces that would sneak in every once in a while. As always, her fingers were fiddling with his.

When she was finished, he said goodbye to Nina and thanked her. Then he flew upstairs. He didn’t hear (Y/N) follow shortly after. He gathered an extra pillow and blanket from his closet and turned to see her standing in the doorway.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, you’ll be in here,” he said. “George and Nina are right across the way and-”

“I know where everyone sleeps, Mitchell.”

He nodded. He stepped to her and kissed her forehead, then headed for the door.

“We don’t have to talk about it tonight, but you-you cannot leave me alone. I won’t let you use this as an excuse to push me away.”

She was crying. He felt as if someone was grinding his heart into dust. He threw the pillow on the floor and wrapped his arms tightly around her, listening to her cry. He deserved this kind of torture, he thought. He led her to the bed and pulled her on top of him, kissing her head. He left the lamp on and hoped to whatever was out there that she’d be able to sleep.

She moved on him, circling her fingers on his chest. She was still awake.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Not anymore. Are you?”

He scoffed. He could handle what Daisy had done to him, but not what she had done to (Y/N). “All of this is painful. I should have stuck to my original plan for tonight.”

“And what was that?”

“To bring you to this bed and not allow you to leave.”

She looked up at him and smirked. “We can still do that.” She kissed him.

After that, it didn’t take her long to fall asleep in his arms. If he was smart, Mitchell thought, he would let her go in the morning. He’d move far away and let her live out a normal life without him. But he wasn’t strong enough to let the love of his life go. He was strong enough, however, to protect her from anything that came their way.

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 5 years ago

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Episode 1

guys it’s been a long time coming, I promise to speed along part 2 for ya. Thanks for all the support @snowflake-kopus

Phillip had just shown up to Mike’s and was currently giving Mike the ‘what-for’ for killing that college kid. While Phillip’s low voice rumbled through the house, you stayed put in your room in hopes he wouldn’t find you. Truthfully Phillip scared you, you’d heard the horror stories that went around about him.

“Is there anybody else here Mike?” He asks, his foot steps echoing on the hardwood floor as they get closer to you. You heart picked up with every approaching thud, until you could see the toes of his boots from under your bed. Quietly, you held a hand over your own mouth as Mike quickly began to babble and distract Phillip. “Mike!” He barks, shutting him up as Phillip’s knees come in view, signalling him kneeling.

“Dude, I’m sorry. It’s my friend. She’s been helping out with the drug running.” Mike assures, and you watch as Phillip’s beautiful amber eyes meet your own.

“Hi.” You meekly smile, your stomach turning in and out.

“Get out from under there.” He murmurs, holding out a hand to pull you from the depths. Dragging you from under the bed, he hauls you to your feet and brushes off your shoulder. “Why were you hiding from me?” He asks gently, giving you a small smile.

“I’m a little afraid of you. Especially after what Mike did.” You murmur, muttering the last sentence. ”Did Mike tell you what he did?” His eyes drop to the short native man before flicking back to you. Mike watched in awe as Phillip fell in love. He’d never imagined such a wild animal of a man to find a love like that, but here he was, being gentle, helping her.

“N-no. Just that he stole some pills from a guy.” Phillip gives a soft chuckle before he turns back and heads for the door, signalling you and Mike to follow.

“For christ’s sake, can you calm down?” He asks, flipping around to face you. “I’m not going to hurt you. I couldn’t hurt you. So take a deep breath, calm down.” He assures, turning his back to you once more as Junior and Rachel pull in.

“Hey! You think we could crash here for a couple days?” Junior asks as they head up and meet the three of you at the door.

“You look all kinds of familiar, hun. Who do you look like?” Phillip rumbles at Rachel, and Mike knew. She looked just like a young Jean, a face Phillip knew well.

“I don’t know. I don’t look like anybody famous.” She stammers, clearly starstruck by Phillip’s beautiful physique. Shrugging, he turns to face you for a moment to see if you agree or not. “Junior, we’re headed up to the trails, you wanna go? Show her some trails.” He gives a little smirk, nodding towards Rachel for a moment.

“You wanna go?” He asks, towards her. She blushes, swatting his arm.

“Of course! Don’t embarrass me in front of your uncle.” She giggles, clearly finding him as attractive as you did.

“Oh I’m not his uncle, I’m his brother.” His deep voice catches you off guard, leaving you shivering quietly. No one hears but Phillip, who gives you a quick sideways glance with one eyebrow raised.

The five of you head through the trails, coming to a stop at the cave. Phillip makes a couple of comments about ‘don’t scream’ and that he partied here as a teen. As he pulls an air gun from behind a rock and pops it off at Mike, making Rachel give a shriek. You held your breath, afraid of what would happen. When Phillip laughs, Mike gives an uneasy echo and sits down on the hard earth to take a moment to calm down.

“Can I try?” Rachel shakily asks, eyes on the gun. Phillip finds a comfortable spot on the ground, rolling to one side and patting the ground next to him.

“Sure, come on over here.” He croons with a half-grin on his lips. You could imagine kissing them, almost leaning down, you quickly disguise it as sitting down and you cross your knees and lean back on your palms. Phillip’s eyes glance lazily over you before you watch his eyes linger for a moment on your lips, flicking up to your eyes before quickly diverting his gaze back to Rachel.

“I’m ready to go now.” She stammers, grabbing Junior’s hand and starting out the cave’s entrance. You, Phillip, and Mike follow behind. The toe of your converse sneaker catches on a root you hadn’t seen and you jut forward, landing with an audible thud and a loud ‘crack’.

“Fuck!” You grind through clenched teeth as your ankle begins to burn as if you’d been stung by a whole wasp’s nest. A gentle hand rests on your ankle for a moment before a soft grunt escapes him. Without a second thought, Phillip flips you over and hoists you into the air.

“It’s sprained.” He mutters never looking at you, eyes trained on the path ahead. “Still wanna stop at the lake? Or go back to the truck?” He asks so calmly as he trudges on through the thick brush and trees.

“We can go the lake. I’m actually fine if you wanna put me down.” He gives a low chuckle, placing you on your feet. As your feet touch the ground your ankle gives out and you plummet towards the earth once more. Almost a second later, Phillip snags your arm and scoops you up, making it seem effortless to every one else.

“Your brother and his girlfriend are so cute.” Rachel murmurs, you expect Phillip to say something but he doesn’t. Only a fraction of a smile crosses his lips for a minute before he heads down the steep bank to the beach.

“Mike! ‘Ey! Grab a blanket outta the truck while you’re up there.” Phillip calls as Mike starts towards the vehicle. A few minutes later he arrives with an old blanket and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Yo, your princess comfy now?” He laughs, giving you a gentle smile. You expel a groan as you realize you can’t go swimming, a favorite pass time of yours. Heaving a sigh, you frown and lay back on the blanket with a thud. A moment passes, you hear Phillip throw Mike into the lake and give a whoop of happiness. A shadow casts across your face, blocking the sunset that was warm against your skin. Opening one eye, you see Phillip’s wet face hanging over you. With a laugh, you roll to the side just as Phillip shakes his head, water droplets pattering against your warm skin, sending goosebumps racing down your arms and the hair to stand on end.

“Hey, you wanna get all those wet?” He waves a hand to your black tee shirt and army green shorts. Pulling your shirt over your head, you start to wiggle out of your shorts. When you get to your ankle you groan in pain as you pull your denim shorts over it. With one fell swoop, you were once again in Phillip’s arms as he was barreling towards the water. You give a happy shriek as you hit the water. Keeping a close hold on you as you swam, his warm hands almost never leave your chilled body as you swim. Rachel dove under, bursting back up with a smile, getting confused when Mike circles her, grabs her waist.

“Let go!” She barks, hearing splashing and thrashing going on as Mike’s arms release from her body. Twisting around to find him drowning Junior, she beats on him as he laughs. You started grabbing at Phillip, whispering stop again and again.

“Mike. Enough.” He barks, glancing down to find you in awe as Junior torpedoes from the water, coughing and hacking up all the water he’d inhaled. Swimming to him, you hold his shoulder to make sure he’s alright. While he and Rachel make it towards shore, you reach out to Mike, swatting him harshly across the face.

“You’re such as asshole. Would you want someone touching your woman like that? Or someone drowning your son?” Phillip cocks his head to the side before heading towards you.

“I’m sorry. Lemme carry you to the truck.” A low grunt follows Mike’s last sentence, and Phillip comes out of the water, scoops you up and heads toward the truck, leaving Mike in awe. You, however, were pressed tightly against shirtless, hot Phillip, unable to complain.

“Sweet Jesus, it’s a damn shame your parents only made one of you.” You murmur, your hand against his chest. Phillip’s face didn’t move as he kept walking like he hadn’t heard you. You sigh a little sigh, glad he hadn’t.

You make it back to Mike’s and relax on the couch, you giving Rachel some clothes to change into. As she got drunk, she made more comments about how you and Phillip were so cute, how you two should get married, until finally she dozed off against Junior. His fingers sifted gently through her hair.

“Phillip, Junior! You guys in here?” Marie’s voice calls, leaving Phillip concerned, as he couldn’t move because you were asleep in his lap while he iced your ankle.

“Yeah, come on in.” Phillip didn’t see right away, but Mike did, and he quickly stood behind a chair and grabbed a beer bottle. When Phillip saw Harold Jensen, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jensen,” Phillip slides you gently onto the chair, putting you in the same position you were in curled against him.

“Rachel?” He asks, as she doesn’t move he gets more concerned. Making a harsh threat as he grabs Rachel off the couch, he heads out the door, leaving Marie with her monster sons.

“Mom, I-”

“Don’t.” She barks, “how’s she doing?” She asks about you, waving a hand to your sleeping body.

“Sprained her ankle out in the woods,” Phillip is quick to respond, earning a sideways knowing glance from his mom. With a gentle stretch you wake up to find everyone staring you intently.

“What?” HAnds finding a hold, you hoist yourself up into a better sitting position.

“I gotta run Marie home, you wanna stay here?” He asks as everyone starts outside.

“Nah, I’ll go. What happened?” You ask, brows furrowed, confused as can be.

“Nothin’.” He assures, handing you a pair of old crutches he found in the garage. Like a colt on new legs, you wobble your way outside to find everyone piled in Phillip’s truck except for Junior, who is dangling his feet out the tailgate.

As Mike and Phillip head toward the truck, you notice something under Marie’s front tire. Tapping Phillip’s shoulder, you nod to the object on the ground. When his eyes meet it, you watch his jaw drop for a second before he slams his jaws together and grabs the gun. Without another word, Phillip ushers you into the truck and drops Mike off at the house. When he comes back out, he finds the gun still sitting on the seat exactly as he’d left it.

“We gotta go meet someone, but just be quiet and don’t say anything.” He assures, patting your head as he pulls up along the dirt road across from the goat farm. Sitting in the silence becomes nerve racking, even more so when Harold pulls up. You tip the seat back, plug in headphones so you can’t hear what they say. You didn’t want to be a witness to another murder.

“My parents only had one because that’s all they could handle.” He murmurs as he carries inside. You had fallen asleep listening to some country music, but now all you could think about was how to get that big, beautiful man into your bed. He leaves you outside to crutch yourself in, and think about that hunk of man.

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izzyhaddock · 7 years ago

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A Long Rant About Race To The Edge And All That Comes With Watching This Clusterfuck Of A Show

The title says it all and if you don’t want to read me complain about RTTE then keep scrolling and move on nothing to see here because I honestly never complain about the show but lemme tell ya this is long overdue. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so I watched RTTE in 2015 (damn that seems so long ago) because yey we’re getting new content until HTTYD3 and yey the gang again, and characters and dragons and Hiccstrid and just more things to see and learn about this amazing franchise that I fell in love with. That helped me through depression and a really shitty period and just made me really happy.

And then I kept on watching it because season 1 was ok and then season 2 was amazing because Viggo and pulling Hiccup around like a puppet and violence and him actually having to think to beat his opponent and yeah nice job Dreamworks. And then season 3 came and not as good as season 2 but it can pass and season 4 was a clusterfuck of what the hell what the fuck is this for real and Hiccstrid was cute but it’s not my OTP and yeah I liked the fact that Hiccup actually acknowledged the fact that Astrid is ALIVE but for the love of God no.

Season 5…yeah this is just getting out of hand.

The thing is, I LIKE watching the show, enjoying those moments when they do something right, like Snotlout still being a little shit but giving Hiccup advice about romance (?) and Tuff being sweet and a good brother and Ruff comforting him with looking at the map they bought and showing that Astrid actually has a bond with Stormfly and giving her a moment when she’s vulnerable and I love Ruff so much because she comes and puts a hand on her shoulder and says yeah we all get dust in our eyes or something close to that and Fishlegs being a badass and seeing Alvin again made my day because I miss that lunatic so much sometimes and his methods of extracting information are pure gold and God.

This show has/had moments that are/were brilliant and fucking amazing and then they are simply sometimes forgotten because you can’t see them over the poor characterization and bad writing and just the writers not giving a fuck. I love what the Edge was supposed to be but that’s just not what it came out to be in the end. It was supposed to be this wild place where they talk and study DRAGONS (MIND YOU THE SHOW HAS THE WORD IN ITS NAME AND WE SOMEHOW SEE THEM TREATED AS NOTHING BUT FREAKING HORSES) and seeing Hiccup and Toothless become who they are in HTTYD2 and see this amazing and comfortable relationship between Hiccup and Astrid that is mature and loving and supportive and understanding and see how Fish and Snot started fighting over Ruff, how Berk started to grow, see STOICK AND HICCUP TALK FOR FUCKS SAKE GIVE THEM A SCENE WHERE THEY ARE ACTUALLY ON THE SAME ISLAND, see all the things that forged the flighty and insecure Hiccup that is so afraid of becoming chief. I like Princess Outpost because he’s fun to make fun of but I miss my stammering idiot a lot more than I like Princess Outpost.

And I’ll watch season 6 because hell, I’ve already watched all the ones before it, what do I have to lose? I guess what I’m trying to say is the show started out great (well maybe that’s a strong word but I’m tired and want to sleep and I’m writing this on my phone and the grammar is probably shit but I’m not going to check it so fuck it but I need to do this now or I’ll chicken out) and when the show does something right it really is amazing and for a split second you feel that rush that makes you think yeah that is why I love this franchise so much. And certain moments make me fall in love with the HTTYD universe all over again but then I just get disappointed and blah.

Season 5 had great moments (very SHORT moments) but every episode was a big meh because it didn’t keep me at the edge of my seat like idk Maces and Talons did or make me love Dagur in Enemy Of My Enemy or filler episodes like Astrid’s Team or Total Nightmare or the fucking dynamic between Astrid and Tuff in Edge Of Disaster. So yeah, I’m okay with watching it because Tuff will say something and make me laugh, and so will Snot and Fish and once every blue moon Astrid and Ruff will be granted a moment to be badass and do something that just for a second resembles their characters and Hiccup won’t be a jackass for three seconds and I’ll see Stoick and Gobber and my heart will swell with love because they are my babies. I’ll watch it but to me RTTE feels like The Last Airbender in the Avatar fandom. It’s just something that you are not proud of and it doesn’t make you feel anything other than I huge MEH.

To all those who enjoy watching it please keep watching it and keep on fangirling and keep on screaming how much you love it and for the love of God write as many posts about how much you loved watching it and how you’re sad that it’s coming to an end as you want. I’m begging you to do that.

I’ll probably reblog gifs of the show because hey it still has beautiful animation and good moments and it makes this wait for HTTYD3 at least pass a little faster as I wait for it to drop already and make me feel rejuvenated and finally see the characters treated the way they should be.

Until then, @e--wills can I join your Salty Grandma club or whatever it’s called? I can’t drink and I probably won’t write how salty I am but I can reblog the hell out of it.

#don't attack me please this is a salty rant in 1 in the morning when i should be sleeping #rtte #rtte season 5 #rant #i'm salty #i mean it wasn't that bad but it was still pretty bad #bearable is the word i'm looking for i think?#idk i'm tired #im going to bed #need to sleep what clusterfuck off

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triumviratuse-blog · 7 years ago

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cassidy, denis, & immortality

hey kids, i’m back w/ even more meta bc last night’s ep broke a fundamental part of my soul me. anywhoooo, on to the analysis!

i think one of the major thematic points that will be addressed later this season will be that of immortality-- this of course relating to cassidy (and to a lesser extent, the SOK). we’ve only ever been teased with cassidy’s immortality, seeing the more instant effects of being immortal (i.e., regeneration) and less about how living for so long can affect a person.

cass is a walking disaster to be sure, and the revelation of denis being his son should not be taken lightly. in the summary for the next episode (s2 ep 7 “pig”), it says that denis asks cassidy for a favor. and, if we’re judging from the mid-season trailer that was shown at comicon, it looks like cassidy is trying to patch up his relationship w/ denis-- using what he knows best: debauchery and alcohol. put this all together, and it definitely makes one question what exactly denis wants cassidy to do for him.

this is a crack theory really, but i wonder if denis will ask cassidy to make him immortal.

hear me out; while i doubt most ppl would want to be immortal at the tender age of 70+, it would make sense if denis were afraid of death. afraid of what exists (or doesn’t exist) after one’s last breath. when the SOK is poised to kill him, denis doesn’t accept his fate. he fights as best he can, yelling at cassidy over the phone in french to save him. he’s old, but it doesn’t seem like he’s made peace with the inevitability of death-- perhaps from having a literal vampire as a father but ya know *insert shrug emoji here.*

on a related note, i kinda want to defend cassidy a bit here. he’s a morally grey character to be sure, but one that, for the most part, tries to do the right thing. if we’re going to condemn cassidy’s manipulativeness as a sign of him being truly “evil” and equivalent to his comic-book counterpart, then we’re going to also have to assign the label “villain” to jesse and tulip. jesse sent an innocent kid to hell and had zero qualms about tossing the SOK (and part of his own soul) into a swamp. tulip has explicitly murdered people on screen as well.

cass’ treatment of denis is just another example of his carelessness and lack of ability in regards to taking care of others. it’s apparent that he at least kept up with denis for his diminutive/elementary years (if his handing denis a half-eaten pack of m&m’s and trying to tie his shoes for him means anything) and probably dropped contact for a bit once denis was physically older than cass was. it’s rough to watch ur child grow up and age and die-- the only equivalent i can think of that we as normal humans face is that of when our pets age and die before us. it’s messy, it’s sad, and frankly, it’d be nice if we could run away from our problems like cass does.

i think cassidy pulled a jesse™ and compartmentalized his feelings about denis and his inevitable aging. that’s why he equates denis to allie’s age, and tells her to go watch tv with him. in his eyes, barely any time has passed. i imagine that for someone immortal, time passes in the blink of an eye. 10 years galavanting around is nothing to cassidy; but for a regular person, that’s enough time for a father-figure to turn into a stranger. his occasional drop-ins to check on his son (and bringing all sorts of debauchery to his house) eventually became something denis abhorred rather than anticipated.

needless to say, he is the epitome of a deadbeat dad, but he’s far from heartless. in fact, i’d argue that he cared quite a bit about denis-- though he never learned french (despite having “all the time in the world,” as he said), there is genuine concern for denis in his voice when he goes to call and warn him about the SOK. he chose to seek out denis and stay at his place even tho i’m sure the trio could’ve gotten a motel while in New Orleans-- it was cass’ choice to face his past and make peace with his demons. he didn’t have to go see him-- but its thanks to his perception of jesse’s “redemption arc” that cass is giving it a shot too.

as for the future of cass and denis, i have 3-ish theories on to what will eventually transpire:

1) denis will ask cassidy to turn him. cassidy will instead, try to help denis enjoy life again via all sorts of vices. 2) denis will betray cassidy and turn in him/the gang to either the Grail or the vampire hunters that ya know, haven’t been mentioned since the pilot episode 3) denis will die, having forgiven cassidy for his awful parenting (the ending i want) anyway, lemme know what u guys think’ll happen in the coming eps if ya want~

#preacher #preacher spoilers #preacher meta #proinsias cassidy #acacius writes #( i'm experiencing an emotion™ )#( also this was all over the place i'm sorry )#( but what i'm tryin' to say is pls ease up on cass-- monsters don't call themselves monsters ya know what i mean )#( this is so long and i honestly think i could've split this into 2 posts but oh well )

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thejinichan · 7 years ago

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Under the Circumstances Chapter 1- An Animaniacs Fanfic.

“Can someone change stations? Because that show is as stale as yesterday’s bread.” Yakko said with a long groan, when he saw what was playing on the TV that hung over the fire place in the dining area of "Chez Le Pu."

"Just how many times did they have to broadcast that in a year?" He thought with a shudder, dropping a stack of dirty dishes into the cart before him. He hastily dashed through the large swinging doors to the safety of the kitchen. Away from all the prying eyes and away from the questions he was always asked while waiting tables. Most importantly though, to escape from the biggest slap in the face that had ever been aired on TV. 

And of course, it had to play on a Friday night during the dinner rush.

With a heavy sigh Yakko pushed on ahead without paying attention and wound up hitting the wall. With a thunderous crash, the mountain of stacked plates came cascading down before he could grab them. The dishes shattered onto the floor, scattering pieces all over the kitchen.

The chef and cook, froze in place from their tasks, and all eyes were on the toon.

Yakko furrowed his brow, scratching the back of his head as he snickered quietly to himself. Yup. It was going to be one of those nights and his shift had just scarcely begun.

“Everything alright in there?”

Yakko snapped out of his daze to see his boss poke her head inside the kitchen. She frowned when she saw the wreckage of broken plates on the checkered floor. With small beady eyes glancing up from under her glasses, she took a step in. The sound of crunching porcelain under her heeled shoes made him wince.

“Uhhhhhhh,” He hesitated, as he reached behind himself awkwardly for the broom. “We needed new China anyways."

Abigail remained unfazed by Yakko's failed attempt to make a joke. Punch lines like that might have worked with the customers, but it certainly didn't work on her as her expression remained unchanged.

"Oh well" Yakko thought. You couldn't blame an out of work toon for trying.

“Yakko, I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but clean this up right now.” She sighed, forcing the creases in her forehead to become more prominent. “And when you're done with that, please, for the love of god take a break or something.” She muttered with a wave of her hand.

“Yes, Dear Abby.”

"Yakko?"

“Yeeees?” The Warner brother casually smirked.

“Please don’t call me that.” With a turn of her pointy black heels, she exited the kitchen with the doors swinging behind her.

Yakko tried to settle the weariness in his stomach with a small chuckle."Might as well get this cleaned up." he thought. And after that he could sneak out the back, have a smoke, and maybe be back just in time for that damn “News reel of the stars" special to be over. Then at least that way, he wouldn’t have to entertain the customers with the story of the downfall of his acting career.

“Seriously, Yakko?"

Yakko swung his head up to see Skippy on the other end of the kitchen, sitting on a stack of crates, phone in hand. Shit. He hadn’t even noticed he was there. A few years his junior, Skippy was one of his old co workers back in his acting days on the Animaniacs. And here they were, all these years later, working together once more. Only this time the circumstances were much different.

“Hey, Yakko, you know better then to piss off the boss riiight?”

Yakko swept up some of the broken china and threw it into the trash receptacle behind him. “What can I say Skips? It’s a tough crowd out there tonight."

”

" You're telling me! I swear to god if another person asks me to do the where’s Bumbi’s mom? thing one more time I think I might spew.” The squirrel stuck out his tongue to get the point across even more.

Yakko shook his head. “Story of my life Skips, story of my life.”

Skippy hopped down off the pile of crates he’d been sitting on. “Ugh, break's over, wish me luck out there.”

“Uhhhhh, Good luck?” Yakko didn't mean it though, and Skippy knew it. They both were aware of the things that lurked past the safe haven of the kitchen. He quickly swept of the last pile of debris from the floor, eager to get out. The soup of the day was boiling away on the stove, filling the room with a humid haze.

Skippy adjusted his white bowtie and smoothed his hair over. He gave Yakko a quick salute before stepping out into the noisy restaurant.

Just over the people outside, happily chatting while eating their meals, Yakko could hear a part of the segment. Why didn't anyone change that God damn channel like he asked? He should have just done it himself.

“With the introduction of computer animation, and its rise in popularity, many toons, like the Warner Bros, and their sister found themselves being served layoff notices with no warning at all.”

Time for that break.

Yakko crept quietly past the window out looking the dining area, hoping no one saw him. He turned the corner down the hall and stepped out the back door. The cool air hit his face and he took a deep breath, happy to be outside at last, and not stuck inside the stifling place he now called his livelihood.

Taking a seat on top of one of the trash cans in the dimly lit alleyway, he loosened his white tie. It always was too tight, but if he wore it any looser than that, Abigail would be sure to notice. The strict uniform rules were only the tip of a long list of things he despised about his job. There wasn't a toon he worked with that didn't feel the same way either. To the outside world, being served drinks and food while being entertained by your favorite cartoon characters might have seemed like a great way to spend an evening. But it was a living hell for anyone employed there. But any other places that hired toons didn't even pay close to what he was able to make in tips. As much as Yakko didn't want to admit it, unless he ever got back into acting again this was the only way he could support his family and stay off the street.

He pulled a smoke from his front vest pocket, lighting it up . He had a pack stashed in his locker for occasions like this, and he knew if Dot found them on him, he’d never hear the end of it. Yakko was planning to quit. One of these days.

"Just when did things start getting so shitty? "

He took a long drag off his cigarette, blowing a large trail up into the sky. The toon sat in the silence and watched the smoke swirl further upwards, dissipating into the hazy clouds above.

Maybe it was when, he and his siblings were told that, due to budget cuts, they would be producing half the episodes they normally did in a season. Or maybe when they were told if they wanted to remain in the water tower they would have to start paying rent.

Or maybe it was when Mr. Plotz brought them up to his office years ago, while they were still in their teens and informed them that the days of the Animaniacs were now over. It was time for Warner studios to move on with the times. Ratings were at an all-time low for 2d animation and they were beginning production on their first computer animated series. There was no room in the budget for hand drawn cartoons, nobody had interest to watch them anymore. Mr. Plotz had told them, "Its time for you children to embrace the change, and try something new."The director assured them they were more than welcome to remain in the tower, so long as they continued to pay their rent. After all those years on the show, after all that revenue He and his siblings, had brought in for the studio. After all the awards. Mr. Plotz kicked them out after 2 months, because they were unable to find jobs.

Yakko took another puff.

That was 9 years ago.

So where did that leave him now? At 23 years old with no prospects for the future, working the same shitty dead-end job he'd had for five years. At a throwback cartoons restaurant that only hired washed up and out of work toons. Doing the same impressions, answering the same mundane questions, and doing the same dance routines over and over again. Every day, a reminder of the star he once was, and never would be again. He would have left Burbank and all the memories a long time ago had it not been for his younger brother and sister.

They were worth it. There wasn’t a thing Yakko wouldn’t do to help Wakko and Dot make it out there. Even if he didn’t.

Yakko flicked what was left of his cigarette into a puddle near his feet and watched it sizzle out, much like his career as a toon. He chuckled to himself in the irony of it all.

Here one minute and gone the next.

“Ummmm, excuse me?”

Yakko jumped up from where he sat when he felt someone tap him from the side.

“Hello?”

Startled, Yakko glanced at the figure. It was a girl.

And she wasn't too bad on the eyes either.

Part of him wondered how a fan might have found their way to the back alleyway but he didn't question it, feeling too lazy to care.. He gave her his signature flirty smirk that always got the women going. “How’d you find your way back here? Lemme guess, you sneaked in just to meet me?" Yakko joked. He felt around his shirt and pockets, “If you’ll just give me a sec, I’ll get a pen and give you my John Hancock.”

She giggled lightly. " An autograph?" She said in confusion. "Actually all I need is that." She gestured at the trash can he was sitting on top of.

Yakko gave her a puzzled look. “Oh wait, haha, the garbage?”

She nodded with a smile, rustling the black plastic bag in her hand. “Bingo."

“Well, if you didn’t want my autograph, babe, all you had to do was say so." Yakko teased, hopping down off the metal canister. He removed the lid while bowing deeply. “And here you are, fair lady.”

She tried to hold back a snicker with her free hand as she dropped the bag into the can. “I have a name you know, it’s Kori, if you're curious, and lemme guess, you're Ya-"

“Yup, Yakko, the one and only,” He boasted, not even noticing he cut her off. “And what brings you out here amongst the rubbish like myself?”

“I, uh, actually got a job at the restaurant next door, been there a few days now.” She laughed “I was wondering when I might run into a toon...never in a million years did I think it would be you, though.”

"Well I guess today is your lucky day, then." Yakko said slyly while raising an eyebrow.

Yakko took a moment to check out the fellow food server. Her uniform wasn't much different from the one he wore, spare for the fact it was red and done up the front with gold buttons. Her chestnut Brown hair was thrown up in a loose ponytail, with a few stray pieces framing her face. Across her nose was a light dusting of freckles. Her emerald green eyes glanced at him in confusion. 

"Dammit." Yakko thought. She was really, really cute.

"Keep it cool." Yakko told himself. The thumping of his heart told him that it was not going to be easy, though. Toons were never very good at hiding their feelings and thoughts, with them often coming out in exaggerated ways. The whole hello nurse thing was funny on the show, but this was real life.

"Umm, are you ok?" She questioned.

The toon pointed at himself. "Uhhhhh me?” He glanced away, hoping she wouldn't notice the sweat that was now dropping down his forehead. He silently cursed the fact that toons emotions showed so easily.  "Nope, everything is all good here, just been a super slow shift that's all...”

"Tell me about it.” 

"Think fast." Yakko's mind raced. "Think of something funny to say to break the awkwardness.

"So are all the girls working over there as cute as you?" 

"Wait. Why say something so stupid? "He sighed inwardly. 

"Your still a giant flirt, aren't you?" Kori teased. " Just like the old days when I watched your show as a kid."

"Yeah, just like the old days," Yakko muttered somewhat quietly. He didn't enjoy being reminded of his former career even if the comment had been made by a cute girl.

"Oh poop!" She said nervously ,sensing the sadness in his voice. " I'm sorry, If I said something wrong."

"No offence taken." Yakko chuckled, seeing how apologetic she looked over a small comment. He felt almost guilty now. "But oh poop'? Hah, who even says that?”

"Umm I do?.”

"Shit. You mean, Oh Shit.” Yakko teased.

"Pretty much" She giggled. "I have younger siblings back home that are still in grade school so I'm trying to clean up my language? My parents are always complaining about it. I got a swear jar and everything. My co-workers are always teasing me though."

"Well, if you hang around me any longer you might have to start over." Yakko said sarcastically. "Now wouldn’t that be poopy?"

Kori burst into giggles. "Oh my God! you are so much funnier in person!"

Yakko laughed with her, their laughter rising into the cramped alleyway that separated the two restaurants. It felt like ages since he had last shared a laugh with someone and actually meant it. It felt so refreshing, to just have a normal conversation with a person who didn't ask him to sing nations of the world for the millionth time.

"This is so cool!" Kori said cheerfully. "If someone had told me as a kid I'd be sitting in an alleyway behind a restaurant with Yakko Warner I'd have called them crazy.”

Yakko leaned up against the wall and pointed at it with his thumb. "If someone told me I'd be stuck working at a joint like this I'd have called them crazy, too."

"Well..." Kori murmured quietly. "At least-"

She never got to finish the thought.

Just then, Abigial burst through the doorway., glaring at Yakko with the same blank expression from earlier.

"Yakko, I said a break? It's been over 20 minutes now."

"I'll be right in Abbey." Yakko reassured. "After all I know my adoring crowd awaits."

"Save the sarcasm for the fans Yakko, that's what your paid to do" She said coldly. " I'll see you inside." Abigail slammed the door behind her, the noise echoing through the brick walls of the alleyway.

The two of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Kori finally spoke up. "Wow, and I thought my boss was cold? He's got nothing on her."

"My boss is so icy that if she went to hell it would freeze over."

"Hah, good one! Kori remarked. " I'll have to remember that one for later."

"Thanks! Yakko smiled, even though he was feeling annoyed he had to leave. Especially since all he wanted to do now was stay and chat with this girl he just met. "I'm only speaking the truth though."

"Well, I'm sure we'll bump into each other again." Kori said shyly. "And maybe we can gab over garbage again?"

"Sounds like a trashingly good time to me," Yakko winked. He opened the door but hesitated a moment before shutting it.

“Guess I’ll see you around then?” Yakko asked with a grin. "I'm out here most evenings."

Kori gave him a small wave. “As long as there's trash to be taken out, then I guess you will.”

She walked backwards waving, towards the door of her own workplace and backed herself into the wall. “Oops,” She chuckled. Kori reached behind herself blindly for the doorknob.

“Need a hand there?”

“No, no, uh, I got it!” Finally her hand made contact with the door and she awkwardly opened it. "Have a good night Yakko, and it was awesome to meet you."

“Likewise Kori.” He grinned, and he gave her a small wave before she stepped out of the alleyway,

When Yakko walked back into the kitchen, a lineup of orders was already on the warming shelf, ready to be brought out. The kitchen staff had been cooking up a storm.

Skippy gave him a confused look.

“Dude, what’s with the dorky grin?”

“Uhhhhh, no reason really.” Yakko said dreamily.

“Yeah, ok then.” The squirrel rolled his eyes. “You might wanna bring extra napkins over to table 14.” Skippy warned him. “This monster of a kid thinks it’s hilarious to spit juice at the toons.” Also, there’s a table of crazy fan girls that just walked in. They asked for you specifically.”

“All in a day’s work, my friend.” Yakko smiled while patting his co-worker on the back. “Let the games begin.”

Yakko tightened up his bow tie once more, and grabbed the large tray of orders for table 14. He stepped out into the dining area of "Chez Le Pu." with a large smile plastered on his face. Only this time it wasn't as fake as it normally was. The restaurant was packed to capacity, with toons running all over the place trying to meet the demands of the hungry crowd. But for once, he wasn't feeling as bitter about it. He quickly served the table their orders, then waltzing over to the table that had asked for him. It was a typical scene. Three woman in their early thirties who could barely contain their excitement.

"Helloooooo Ladies!" He chimed, " Yakko Warner here, and welcome to Chez Le Pu! Can I start you beautiful women off with some drinks?" He pulled a notepad out of his vest pocket to write down their requests.

"OHHH MY GOD ITS YAKKO GUYS!" One of them screamed. "CAN I TAKE A SELFIE WITH YOU BEFORE WE ORDER?"

Yakko did his best to smile sincerely at their request. Even though he was so tired and done with all this, maybe, for tonight at least, he would make it.

#animaniacs #animaniacs fanfic #animaniacs fanfiction #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #the warner bros #older warner bros.#older warners #older yakko #animaniancs fandom

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teenmomtruths · 7 years ago

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#teen mom

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ylla · 8 years ago

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Friday Night Gurus - Chapter 1

Series: JJBA Ships: josuyasu (others will eventually happen too, but im tagging as i go) Tags: au where theyre famous, modern au, pining, josuke is a hot mess and has exactly 0 chill Rating: T (for this chapter only, bc eventually there will be sex/smoking the devil’s lettuce)

AO3 link

reeeeee so i’ve been in and out of the doctor’s office with a sinus infection so intense, i’ve been to the ER due to pain. fun shit. i came up with this AU while listening to music while waiting for someone to come smother me with a pillow to put me out of my misery.

this unbeta’d because i wrote this on my phone while waiting. i plan on keeping up with this idea because it delights me. next chapter will follow shortly too, because i’m trying to break this up into smaller chunks as i hammer it out on my phone (which fucking sucks, lemme tell ya). if you notice anything weird, tell me about it so i can fix it!!

The first time Josuke Higashikata meets Okuyasu Nijimura was because of a fuckup in a magazine photo shoot schedule. The shoot in question was for a feature in Rolling Stone; award season was coming soon and they wanted to feature the current Biggest Names in Music. Some poor intern (who was probably promptly fired) fucked up EVERYONE’S schedule, so all the bands and singers had to come in during the same hellish week in June. It was a nightmare for all involved.

Of course, the cover would feature the biggest name in the industry which, naturally, was Josuke. Discovered at sixteen, with two world tours, four albums (two of which went platinum), and at least 20 different awards, he was twenty-four and still going. His latest album dropped too late for Grammy consideration last year, but he was feeling real confident. This was his year. He’ll get that fucking Grammy, even if he killed him.

Josuke still considered himself to be a chill, down-to-earth kind of man despite his superstardom; able to roll with the punches whenever they came. He got that sometimes things just didn’t go your way, but he still couldn’t help it when his precious time off gets thwarted by some dumb idiot.

“What the fuck, Koichi?” Josuke whined on their way to the shoot, “Why couldn’t have this happened literally like, last week?”

Koichi Hirose was his manager, agent, PR guy, and truth be told, the only person beside his mother and grandfather who truly knew him. “Stop whining, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Dude, this was supposed to be my first week off in forever—“

For someone who was 5’3 and weighed 110lbs soaking wet, Koichi could be intimidating. He gave Josuke a look before parking and turning off the car, “Can’t be helped. They wanted to do the cover shoot last since there’s two of them.”

Josuke made a face. He forgot that this would be a dual cover. Him on one side, some band on the other. “Who’s the other band?”

Like he was still in school, Koichi started rattling off some facts, “Arrowhead, they’re a metal band. Comprised of four members. Skyrocketed up the charts this past year with their second album. You guys fought over #1 album and singles on Billboard on and off all year.” Koichi was the type of guy who always did his homework, “Now come on, you’re gonna be late.”

The shoot was operating in some random ass warehouse in some backassward part of Los Angles. Josuke and Koichi waltz into some giant room that was getting set up; a group of 4 people huddled in a corner eating what appeared to be a large quantity of Taco Bell with a sharp dressed man standing near them. Josuke’s kind of people.

“Oi! Tonio!” Koichi called out with a wave, before gesturing at Josuke to follow him over. Josuke barely restrained an eyeroll; his hair was up in a ponytail and he was wearing some worn-out sweats with an old t-shirt, not exactly looking good for first introductions.

“Koichi,” the finely dressed man shook Koichi’s outstretched hand, “good to see you.”

“Josuke, this is Tonio Trussardi, we work at the same agency.” Koichi gestured at Tonio, “And Tonio, this is Josuke Higashikata.”

Josuke held out his hand and got a firm handshake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Tonio’s eyes sparkled. He let go of Josuke’s hand and gestured to the group of people sitting behind him, “These are my charges, Arrowhead.”

He started with introductions, pointing to a man leaned up against the wall, who had sleepy eyes and a face Josuke would find attractive if it wasn’t for the tattoo on his chin, “Yuuya Fungami, drummer.” Yuuya nodded in greeting. Tonio pointed to a pretty girl with long black hair who was intently staring at Koichi, “Yukako Yamagishi, lead guitarist.” She didn’t even acknowledge Josuke, but held out a hand for Koichi to shake (which he did, if a little hesitant due to her staring). He swept a hand towards a man with impressively tall hair and two braids, “Keicho Nijimura, bassist.” Keicho gave them a cold stare and said nothing. “And last, but not least,” Tonio clapped his hand on a scarred man who had been too busy slamming a taco the entire time and didn’t notice people had walked up, “Okuyasu Nijimura, lead singer and rhythm guitarist.”

Okuyasu jumped a little, before turning a little pink and waving, “Sup?” His voice sounded he had came out of the womb smoking like a freight train.

Josuke was taken aback when he got a good look at the guy. The symmetrical scars running parallel on Okuyasu’s face did nothing to detract from how goddamn hot he was. Square jaw, angular face, black and silver hair pulled up into a ponytail, three piercings in each ear, ripped arms that had tattoos snaking up them, good God almighty. The first thought that entered Josuke’s mind when looking Okuyasu in the face was Oh no, he’s hot. The first words out of his mouth were “Those tacos smell so fuckin’ good.” Real smooth.

Without another word, Okuyasu offered him one. Josuke ignored how the blonde guy glared at him, and took the proffered taco, “Thanks dude.”

“S’no prob.”

As Josuke started chowing down, about to start chatting up the cute guy, when Okuyasu unceremoniously got up and walked away. Trying not to look so bitter, Josuke turned towards Koichi, but Yukako was asking him incredibly personal questions about his life, while Tonio started ushering Yuuya to hair and makeup, “Photographer’s not here yet, but you need to be ready since you’re the first up.”

“Yeah yeah, stop pushing.”

Keicho’s cold stare was unwavering and was starting to give Josuke the heebie jeebies, “Oi, Koichi. I’m gonna have a smoke.” Josuke didn’t bother to listen for Koichi’s stammered reproach before heading outside (which might have been a strangled cry for help). Truth be told, he really didn’t need a cigarette, he just kind of wanted to go pout. But luck would have it, when he went outside, Okuyasu was sitting on the curb with earbuds in, watching some video. Nosy as shit, Josuke hovered over his shoulder to see what he watching, “Are you watching Real Housewives of Atlanta??”

Okuyasu nearly jumped out of his skin, phone fumbling in his hand, “Oh shit!” he whipped around, wearing glasses he didn’t have on earlier, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, “Uh, I can explain.”

Oh no, he’s so fuckin’ cute Josuke hollered inwardly. He held his hands up in defense, “Sorry man, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Pulling out his own pack of cigarettes, he sat down beside him on the curb, “Don’t gotta explain anything to me, I love trashy reality shows.”

“You ain’t makin’ fun of me, are ya?” Okuyasu asked, scowling.

“What? Nah, reality shows are the shit. I love binge watching them.” Josuke fished around in his pocket, “You got a lighter?”

As if Okuyasu was trying to divine if Josuke was lying, he stared at him for a few seconds before handing over his lighter, “Jus’ asking. Keicho gives me shit for watching them, but they’re hilarious.”

Josuke lit his cigarette, “Don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life.” Inhale. He gave Okuyasu a serious look, speaking on the exhale and handing his lighter back, “Fuck what he thinks.”

Okuyasu was quiet while he lit up and took a drag. For a moment, Josuke was worried that he had already overstepped his boundaries with someone he literally just met. God, no wonder he didn’t have any friends.

He was snapped out of mentally kicking his own ass when Okuyasu spoke, holding up his right earbud, “Wanna watch with me?”

“Hell yes I do, which episode are you on?”

“The one where Ridickulous shows up—“

“THAT’S MY FAVORITE ONE—“

“DUDE, MINE TOO.”

They ended up talking while watching, not really paying much attention to the show until Ridickulous showed up, which was met with raucous laughter. Josuke learned that Keicho was Okuyasu’s older brother, that the only thing better than chocolate or strawberry ice cream was strawberry ice cream with chocolate chunks, he smoked his cigarettes like he did his joints, he smelled insanely good, most of his tattoos didn’t have much more meaning than “They looked cool as shit when my dude drew them”, and that Okuyasu Nijimura was the most genuine person he had ever met. He was sweet, eager to please, loud, and friendly. Josuke was already dangerously enamored.

Josuke hadn’t even been aware of how much time passed until Koichi came out, “They’re looking for you guys. Keicho’s almost done, so you both need to go to hair and makeup.” Yukako hovered in behind Koichi, her eye’s sliding between Okuyasu and Josuke with a blank expression on her face.

“Shit, I hadn’t even realized,” Josuke stood up and held a hand out to help Okuyasu up, “Let’s go before we get murdered.”

With a grin, Okuyasu took his hand and hopped up, “Yeah, god forbid we disappear for a minute.”

It was hilarious watching Okuyasu, who had never had makeup put on him in all his life, grimace as his face was caked. “This shit smells weird.”

Josuke couldn’t help but cackle while he did his own hair, “Get used to it, dude. This is your life now.”

Makeup finished, Okuyasu got started on his own hair, “Josuke, the least surprisin’ thing you could ever tell me about yourself is the fact that you don’t let anyone else do your hair.” He was fighting with stubborn strands that didn’t want to stay still, “The pomp is cool, you pull it off.”

A quick glance in the mirror told Josuke that he managed to keep his blush to a minimum, “Thanks dude, you got some slick style there yourself.” The shy, pleased grin that crossed Okuyasu’s face was an image he wanted branded to the inside of his eyelids.

Okuyasu was up for pictures first, looking anxious and green. It was clear to Josuke that he had no idea what he was doing. “Dude, just relax!” he shouted, “You’re looking fine!” What he didn’t say was that he meant that two ways. With a slight nod, Okuyasu relaxed slightly, and his pictures started coming out better. Josuke was trying to go for the somewhat disinterested watching, but damn, he couldn’t help but stare. This dude was cute. Out of the corner of his eye, Josuke caught Keicho staring at him again. What was that guy’s deal??

He couldn’t ruminate on an answer, because as soon as he thought that, Yuuya suddenly sat down beside him, causing Josuke to yelp in a totally manly way, “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry dude,” Yuuya was eating a leftover taco, “Busy watchin’ the show?” He tilted his head toward the photographer fussing at Okuyasu, shit-eating grin on his face.

Josuke did not like that smug look Yuuya was sporting, “He looks nervous. Jus’ tryin’ to help him out.”

“That’s just how he is,” without looking over his shoulder, Yuuya tossed the taco wrapper behind him, hitting a trashcan, “He doesn’t know how to chill out.”

They sat in silence few a couple of minutes before the eyes Josuke felt on his back were getting on his last goddamned nerve, “Why is that guy staring at me like I murdered everyone he’s ever cared about?”

Yuuya eyed Keicho for a second before shrugging, “That’s just how he is too.”

Before Josuke could even ask what the fuck that even meant, Keicho punched Yuuya’s shoulder as he walked by, “Come on, asshole. It’s time for the cover.”

“Ow, that fuckin’ hurt, dickhead.” Taking his time, Yuuya stood up and stretched, rubbing his punched shoulder. “By the way, Okuyasu’s single,” Yuuya said casually, as if he was answering a question that had been posed.

Josuke sputtered, his face scarlet, “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK—“

Yuuya pointed at his nose, “I got a nose for romance,” and then he dead ass winked at Josuke before walking away. Josuke wondered if he was that obvious. Perhaps that explains why big bro Keicho stared daggers at him. Maybe he needed to work on being subtle, but Higashikata’s were never, ever subtle (thanks mom).

The cover shoot didn’t take too long, much to Josuke’s surpise. Not a whole lot of time passed before it was Josuke’s turn. Okuyasu was dragging his feet, watching intently, while Keicho was demanding they leave. Tonio, bless him, told them that he needed to speak to Koichi about business matters before they left (mercifully saving him from Yukako’s question of “What do you look for in a woman?”) Josuke didn’t know if Tonio was picking up on something, or just making assumptions, but he appreciated it.

When the pictures were mercifully done, Josuke ran to the bathroom real quick to reorient himself, muttering under his breath, “Okay, Higashikata. You got this. You’re cool, suave, and undeniably handsome.” Josuke applied a quick coat of lip gloss before heading back out there, “Get that cute guy’s number.”

After leaving the bathroom, Josuke was greeted to an almost empty room. Okuyasu was nowhere to be found. In fact no one associated with Arrowhead was there; Keicho had muscled them out of the door as soon as Josuke left the room, Koichi helpfully explained, patting Josuke’s shoulder as he felt his confidence leak out of him like a sad balloon.

Josuke pouted the whole way home, and Koichi couldn’t tempt him out of a foul mood. “Josuke, what’s the problem??” Koichi asked, finally fed up with his huffing and sighing, “Why are you like this?”

“Koichi, I’m gay,” Josuke said, head leaned against the window.

“I know this, you’ve told me before. What does that have to do with you sighing like a moody teenager?”

“I was gonna ask Okuyasu for his number, but they left before I could.” He felt like a fucking fool, why did he have to run to the bathroom like a scared baby? It was taking a lot of effort to not punch his own face in. “That Yuuya guy told me he was single and everything. Was I that obvious??”

As they sat at a stoplight, Koichi patted his shoulder, tactfully choosing to not answer the last question, “Don’t sweat it, Hollywood is small. You’ll run into him again.” Actually, Koichi could easily get Okuyasu’s number, but he knew better than to offer. It would only hurt Josuke’s pride.

Josuke shrugged and changed the subject, deciding to throw a pity party for himself later, “So about that Yukako chick…”

Koichi grimaced, “She followed me around the whole time. Asked me how I got such a high powered client when we’re the same age! And a bunch of personal stuff like my underwear size and what kind of man did I consider myself to be.”

“At least she’s cute?” Josuke offered, an apologetic smile on his face.

“She is that…also intense. Very…intense…”

“Did you get her number?”

Koichi sighed as he pulled into Josuke’s driveway, “She took my phone, put her number in it, and then texted herself.”

“Damn,” Josuke snorted with mirth, “Hey man, you might end up getting laid before my dry spell ends. I’m rooting for ya.”

Josuke didn’t need to look at Koichi to know that he was getting a look. He hopped out of the car and waved goodbye as his friend pulled out of the driveway. Upon walking through the front door, he greeted an empty house. “I’m home!” he called out to no one. Josuke really wished his mom hadn’t moved back east, but after his grandfather had that heart attack and refused to move to Los Angeles, someone had to stay with him. He could use advice, and was tempted to call her. No, he was grown ass man. No advice from mom, you die like a man.

…He’ll just call her later.

One shower and ordered pizza later, Josuke laid on his bed, booted up both his laptop and PS4. It was time for Netflix and Learning As Much About Your Crush As Possible. With Netflix on Worst Cook’s in America, pizza in one hand, and beer in the other, he typed in Arrowhead into Google and got to work.

Two hours later, he laid on his bed, hands folded across his chest, and stared at his ceiling, Netflix and pizza forgotten. Arrowhead’s second, self-titled album had been on repeat for the last hour. Metal was never his cup of tea, but Okuyasu’s husky, rough voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and chills run down his spine. If he didn’t have it bad for Okuyasu before, he certainly fucking did now. Josuke briefly wondered if this is how he sounded when he woke up in the morning, or when he was needy and wanted—

Josuke promptly rolled over and started screaming into his pillow. Why was he like this?

You’re a fucking mess he thought to himself, You have it bad for a dude who you barely even know, just because the way he sings goes directly to your dick.

“He’s also really hot and nice,” Josuke mumbled aloud. He paused before tearing out of bed, determined to shower, do anything that would get his mind off of Okuyasu. “I also need to stop talking to myself!” he said, ripping his clothes off, jumping into lukewarm water.

After a long, somewhat cold shower, Josuke steeled himself. He was gonna get that fucking number.

#josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura #josuyasu #josuke x okuyasu #jjba

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marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer · 8 years ago

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Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

I’ve recently raved about Pitch (please go and watch btw, I NEED A SEASON 2!!), and now I’m going to rave about Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I had watched the pilot when it first aired and while I had mildly enjoyed it, I wasn’t really hooked. Still, it was a show that I had on my back burner for when I had nothing else to watch. Well, that time finally came. I binge-watched the whole thing and I want to yell from the rooftops how amazing this show is! If you can get over the title, you’ll be rewarded. There’s so much that I love about CEG! The main character is deeply flawed and her whole arc is coming to terms with her flaws and overcoming them. She’s deceitful and misguided and self-centered and selfish, but she’s also a poor soul who is struggling with depression and mental illness and who strives to make herself happy. She has the most beautiful friendship with one of her work mates, which is almost like a love story? It’s so real because that’s how women experience friendship with each other. Fighting with your bestie is worse than a breakup, and this show nails that. There’s this cool dude who’s the boss and is super sweet and the best dad ever, and after divorcing his wife and meeting some new people thanks to Rebecca he realizes he’s bisexual? He actually SINGS about his bisexuality, and it’s the most beautiful song ever? Anyway, there’s so much to love about this show, but the thing I like the most is how real it is in a way that few shows are. What’s more, it’s real while being funny. It’s real about tough things - like self-loathing and depression - and it nails exactly how we feel when we are going through all of that stuff but it makes you laugh about it! Which is so precious! And yes, sometimes it’s just ridiculously funny. Anyway, to give you a taste of why I can’t get over how awesome this show is, I made a list of my favorite songs so far...

1. You Stupid Bitch – An ode to self-loathing and self-hatred

youtube

You ruined everything You stupid bitch You ruined everything You stupid, stupid bitch You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things And wants the world to burn Bitch You're a stupid bitch And lose some weight

2. Oh My God I Think I Like You

youtube

My feelings get stronger every day

I'm like a little girl, not in a role-playing way

Are there condoms that can prevent these feelings?

Is there spermicidal lubricant that can kill

The fluttering in my heart?

Is there an IUD

That can stop the image of you and me

Getting married on a hillside, surrounded by ducks

And then we get into a rowboat?

3. I Could If I Wanted To - because it’s safer to half-ass everything than try...

youtube

Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo, a happy dad

With his big dad calves and his stupid baseball cap

And his T-ball shirt and dumbass son

Throwin' a ball, like it's so important to know how to throw a ball

Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo!

Who cares about throwin' a ball or havin' a kid?

It'll get ya nowhere in life

Not like gettin' anywhere matters

Although I guess it does if you care

Which I don't!

But I could! But I don't!

But I could if I wanted to, yeah!

4. Sexy Getting Ready Song - WATCH THIS. There’s nothing sexy about getting ready for a gal!

youtube

God, what This is how you get ready? This is some This is horrifying, like a scary movie or something Like some nasty-ass patriarchal bullshit You know what? I got to go apologize to some bitches I'm forever changed after what I just seen

5. Face Your Fears - yeah, but just... maybe... don’t do what Paula is telling you to?

youtube

If you’re scared of bees (If you’re scared of bees)

Get stung! (Don’t have an EpiPen ready)

Reach for the stars (Literally touch the stars)

Face your fears! (Stars aren’t that hot)

Face your fears (Face your fears)

Join the Marines (Join the Marines)

Swim right after eating (Don’t wait 30 minutes)

Cause you are amazing (So amazing)

Wipe back to front (Don't wipe front to back)

Drop out of school (School is stupid)

6. Gettin’ Bi - BEST BISEXUAL ANTHEM EVER!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUDab9piv_U

Now some may say “Oh, you’re just gay Why don’t you just go gay all the way?” But that’s not it ‘cause bi’s legit Whether you’re a he or a she We might be a perfect fit And one more thing I tell you what; Being bi does not imply that you’re a player or a slut Sure, I like sex But I’m no ho I take things slow Until I feel at ease

7. I’m A Good Person - when you want to believe you’re good but you’re kind of a douche?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4hh1YhDfbA

I’m a good person all over the place I cum my good right into your face Everybody says I’m one good ass chick And if you don’t think so you can lick My balls. Which, again, are filled with good

(...)

I’m a good, such a good, real good person I’m a good person through and through I’m a good, such a good, real good person Lemme hear you say it too Say it. Say it! Or I’ll kill your husband I’ll do it! I’ll gut him like a fish You’re a good person Aw, thank you

8. I Gave You a UTI - Weird topic for one of the catchiest songs in the show, IMO

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ytnBRjmDXs

I'm so good at sex Your maidenship got wrecked! My penis is the reason you may die, die, die! I gave you a UTI!

9. Settle for Me - because we’ve all almost begged someone to love us...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtb-ZPOkMyI

So won’t you settle for me Come on and settle for me Say yes or no before I choke on all this swallowed pride I have no problem being picked out from the bottom If he’s your broken condom, I’m Plan B! So lower those expectations and settle for me

10. You Go First - when we’re in a fight with our besties and we want to apologize... after they apologize first...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzHJlOmuYsY

So... go ahead and say

you're kind of sorry!

'So I can say... Oh, no, no, no please!'

Just like I rehearsed!

If you open the door...

I'll apologize so much more!

Yes I will... But you go first!

11. We Tapped that Ass - best song about anal sex ever okay?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilztSh5Cr2E

On the table you were willing and able!

On the ottoman you took a lot of man!

And in the safe in the closet I made a deposit!

I also tapped that Ass all over this house!

12. Who’s the New Guy? - the meta song about the show self-awareness regarding its characters and plots...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6zP_LE4HFE

Who's this new character? I mean, he's such a "character" Such a big persona that's not relatable at all.

Do we really need a new guy this far into the season? and by far into the season I mean it's almost Fall.

(...)

Is this some desperate move to try and help our ratings?

You mean our terrible ratings on Legal scores.com?

Yeah!

Will he be here forever?

Or just two or three episodes?

I mean, Karen's manic episodes.

anyway, it’s awesome, go watch it! it’s on Netflix!

#other shows #Crazy Ex Girlfriend #Rachel Bloom #Santino Fontana #television #Rebecca and Greg 4ever okay?

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gleefail · 4 years ago

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Glee Memories: 1x12 MATTRESS

A long, long time ago, as Glee was approaching graduation in Season 3, I found myself nostalgic with some rare free time on my hands. So I decided to rewatch the series from the beginning and jot down some memories, discrepancies that have arisen since, fave quotes, tally solos - all that good stuff, strictly for shits and giggles.

8 years later (eek!) and once more I find myself with an unexpected abundance of free time. With so many revisiting or being newly introduced to the show between binge watching during Quarantine and all the tragedy that has surrounded the show since it went off the air, I figured I’d finish what I started. And by finish, I mean go through the end of S3. Cause I truly cannot acknowledge what happened after that. Except for 5B.

Kicking this off by reposting the first 15 episodes I already went through. Enjoy!

1x12 MATTRESS Yearbook pictures. Ruh roh. I remember this ep. It ended sad for me. :(

Ken thinks he’s gonna drop 20 pounds in less than a week. Oh boy.

Remember that time Ken totes planned his and Emma’s wedding the same time as Sectionals so she couldn’t go, then pretended he didn’t, then Emma stood up for him when Will caught on? That was fun…douche Ken.

“Got myself a bit of an eyelift. And while they were in there I told em’ go ahead and yank out those tear ducts. Wasn’t usin’ em’.”

Is Sue right – do yams really draw the water out of the skin? Hmm…yam diet, eh?

“We have all felt the cold humiliation of a slushie in the face” Not yet, Kurt. But apparently you ALL will. Still double-checking that. Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Puck, Kurt, Mr. Schue.

“What’s a patriotic wedgie?” “It’s when they hoist you up the flagpole by your undies.” “Strangely it did make me feel more American.”

It is TERRIFYING, the fates of these kids in previous glee yearbook photos whose pictures were defaced. OMG.

“He barks at my mom.”

Alright. I gotta say it. It is totally not right or legal I’m sure for Figgins to ask for Glee to pay for their own photo. He’s saying that’s what a full page ad costs…but the school doesn’t pay a thousand dollars for each club’s picture. Shenanigans.

Okay. So I’m watching this post-Props/Nationals. And I’m pissed. Rachel just came storming into Figgins’ office to petition for a Glee yearbook photo. She says “As you may know, this is my first year in Glee Club” – THE FUCK?!?! So she wasn’t in Glee her freshman year?!?! So she started the same time as Tina, Artie, Kurt, and Mercedes?!?! So we DIDN’T miss a year of her ‘earning it’ more than anyone else around her? THE FUCK, Glee?! THE FUCK, I ASK YOU!

Hey, remember that time that Rachel joined every club possible? Hey, remember how 2 seasons later she’ll say she doesn’t have extracurriculars for her NYADA audition application? Hey, remember how in Props she says she’s involved in 6 clubs? WTF? #oops

Quinn wants her kids to look back on her yearbook pics and be proud. “Not the bastard one I’m carrying now…” Ha!

Quinn is gonna get in that yearbook photo for the Cheerios and back on that squad whether Sue Sylvester likes it or not. Quinn is braver than I’ll ever be.

Terri is so supportive. She just told Will to wear the tie for the Glee Club photo that’ll go best with the cool kids defacing of it.

“Oh great. Why don’t you take the food out of the refrigerator and give that to the kids?” hahaha. Overdramatic and exaggerating, but still funny.

Will is going behind Terri’s back to pay for the photo. Yup. That’s a strooooong marriage they got there…

Ok. Rachel just said if she is in one more club she would officially be the most involved student in the school. Yet she HAS to run for Senior Class President because she has nothing for her NYADA application and she is convinced she won’t get Maria…and even after she GETS Maria, she still doesn’t drop even though her ‘friend’ Kurt really needs it and really wants to be prez to make a difference while in the position. She is awful. They turned her into an AWFUL human being. That we’re no longer supposed to laugh at, but admire. And honestly so far in the series, she’s not so bad. So…lemme see if I can pinpoint in my rewatching when the decline of her character started…

The look Kurt has when he just gets up and walks away from Rachel’s GayLesbAl suggestion. Hi. Lar.I. Ous.

And Mercedes is chillin’ with Matt and Mike. I’m tellin’ ya, I thought she was like, a popular girl!

“I nominate Rachel.” “Second.” Kurtcedes love.

…two things: 1. I think Will uses Emma’s counseling services more than any student. Or all of them combined. 2. He does know she’s not a psychologist, right?

haha. Emma and Will are acknowledging how annoying Rachel is. It’s cruel, but..yes. Teachers do that.

As captain of the Glee Club, did Rachel (or Finn) ever have to do more than have the responsibility of this first yearbook photo? I know at times Finn tries to take on a leadership role but…it’s such a useless position.

:) Aw.Rachel went to Mercedes first to be co-captain. I like that. Maybe it’s cause I’m thinking of TroubleTones and how well and fairly she led them.

“Because I don’t wanna be in a picture with you, it’ll get defaced.” “No it won’t.” “Yes it will, I’ll be the one doing it.”

Rachel is saying that the football players and cheerleaders are only in Glee because of Finn. Hmmm….well, Quinn kinda but more cause of Rachel trying to steal him. We don’t know exactly why the football players joined but it was after they won that game and danced with Kurt and Mr. Schue…and wasn’t it Finn that didn’t choose Glee over football when all the rest of them did? Did I imagine that? No? Just checking.

Haha. Smile. I like this song. I had a friend who hated Glee because everyone loved it. He’s one of those “If everyone loves it it can’t possibly be because it’s good, it’s cause it’s a stupid fad” people – you know the type. He was into this girl and I knew she liked the show so I liked to tease him about how he probably watched it with her. I think he said this song was the first time he saw any of the show and he was confused. I remember I was like “oh, you saw like, the first time they did a song that made no sense in the moment at all. Like, it wasn’t used to further the story, it was out of context except the title of it and it wasn’t supposed to be a performance either. They never do that though. Watch it again.”. Wow. Thinking back on that now…this was the first moment that happened. And it ended up happening SO many more times. Just…wow. Historic moment right there.

And still, this song is such an odd choice for learning to pose for a yearbook photo. It could’ve been cut completely. Why wasn’t it? It didn’t even bother to further the Finchel storyline either. It was cute and fun and I like the song and I’m glad they did it so I have it on my ipod for workouts, lol, but…unnecessary.

It annoys the crap outta me when they act like they’re sightreading sheet music on this show. No. You are not. And you do an awful job pretending like you are. Just stop.

Ooh, Brad’s getting his jam on, lol.

hahaha. Karofsky just asked how to spell loser. Really? Also, is he officially a football guy now instead of a hockey guy? Ok. Sure. Why not.

I always wonder how people act to a pre-recorded voice-over of inner monologue when there’s more than just “I’m sad” happening with their sub-text. How do they sync that up to the acting journey so well like in this moment that Rachel’s giving her self a pep talk in the mirror? It’s like magic to me, lol.

“I can cry on demand. It’s one of my many talents.”

“Aside from nudity and the exploitation of animals, I’ll pretty much do anything to break into the business.” It’s funny cause I saw Lea Michele topless in Spring Awakening prior to this.

Finn bitches about Glee bringing down his reputation, take three.

“Do you think I have a potato head?”

haha, I do love love love how Rachel shames Finn during this scene. Every time she says his name it’s like a bitch slap for bailing on the yearbook photo.

they’re reeeeeeal excited about selling mattresses. Wanky.

Oh, this brilliant brilliant script for the mattress commercial: *sigh* “Ah me” “What’s wrong?” “We just lost our jobs. At the factory. And we can’t get a good night’s sleep” (emphasis on ‘night’s’)

“We should perform.” “Perform the lines…as I wrote them.” I wonder if that was a shoutout/threat to this cast from RIB. Or how many times they’ve heard that if they ever bring up continuity etc. Just me?

Oh Jump. Ok. Let’s talk about this. Super fun number. Great vocals. Also the first time I realized AmberRiley is the shit. Except it took a couple people to make me realize it wasn’t just cause I love listening to her, it’s cause she’s a one of a kind, super rare talent. My one friend pointed out the actual notes she’s belting like it’s a fuckin’ hiccup. ‘Ain’t no thang. I’m Amber fuckin’ Riley. What? Can’t everybody belt that?’ That’s what I imagine she thinks when she pulls off shit like this. Also, one of my students ALWAYS requested this for warm-ups because “she’s so fucking amazing”. And despite the profanity, I was so proud of him for realizing that, even though he was a 16 year old popular-ish boy and she wasn’t the cheerleader or super popular hot chick on the show. And watching my students reacting to her in this and praising her. All of that combined made me go “how did I miss this? Normal people can’t sing that way.”

Will just found the pregnancy pad. Oh shit. Shit’s about to get real. Terri did tell a very convincing lie, without batting an eyelash about how it was just so she could try on clothes for the coming months. That says a lot.

This scene is good. To the point it makes me uncomfortable.

“This marriage works because you don’t feel good about yourself!”

“Quinn Fabray”. Ugh. I can’t even imagine being Will in that moment. How deceived and betrayed he must feel. Man. I’m uncomfortable watching this.

It drives me nuts when people bring up promises made under false pretenses. Terri brings up now how Will promised to remember how happy they were and that they loved each other…at the fake ultrasound. Yeah. Your lie negates the promise, idiot. Rachel does something similar in regards to “you said you’d never break up with me” to Finn in season 2 after she cheats with Puck. People are fools.

Seriously though, how does Will not even question those mattresses and just bust one out. And couldn’t he have slept on it without taking it out of the plastic? High maintenance much? ;) Honestly though, if I found a stack of MATTRESSES delivered to my drama club kids saying “thanks for all your hard work”..I’d raise a fuckin’ eyebrow and question what they’d done to earn that. It’s sort of suggestive, is it not? Or do I just have a dirty mind?

haha. Something I’ve always loved about this moment when Sue overhears the mattress commercial at the tv studio is that moment where she thinks she just hears Rachel Berry near. Her reaction, and me always thinking “what would I do if I thought I heard Rachel Berry outside of the one place I’m forced to have to” always makes me laugh.

“oooohhhh, I got nuttin’ to say to you, preggo.”

They’re disqualified from Sectionals!!?? Oh no! Lol. This was before I knew what RIB was capable of. When I thought they’d go the honorable, legit route with this show. I was wracking my brain to figure out how they’d get out of this one. Oh how wrong I was.

“And what if I were to innocently murder you, William?”

“I’m sorry, but Glee club is over.” “It’s. OVER!” Dun dun dun!

“It’s like looking at a porno star in a nun’s habit.” re: pregnant Quinn in her Cheerios uniform. Amazing.

Season tickets to Cedar Point!! Yay for accuracy, Glee!

Listen. Quinn has a lot of rage. She’s talking to Sue like she’d talk to Rachel or some other underclassmen ‘loser’.

Quinn just quit Cheerios sorta to be in Glee club instead. We’ll find out, but my memory is that she’ll start wishing she was back on that squad and complaining about it real soon. No?

Okay. HOW is Will disqualified for being paid for what he does…when he gets PAID to RUN the Glee Club? Makes noooo sense. He should be fine.

Charlie Chaplin Smile. Such a sad song. This montage is so good though. It’s one of those times Glee kinda moved me. I got choked up. And my heart dropped to see people defacing this photo when they’d all taken a step forward and were so proud. This is hard to watch right now with Glee Graduation mere days ahead. :(

Also, I miiiight still listen to this song when I’m having a hard day to try to turn it around. Good song.

Aw, Karofsky figured out how to spell loser. Good for him.

Okay, so I’m pausing this to take a look at the comic brilliance of these cool kids defacing the picture. They gave Santana a pitchfork. No shit, Sherlock. They’ll all call her Satan in Glee soon enough. They gave Kirt a skirt and boobs. Cause he’s gay. Brilliant. :/ They gave Finn buck teeth. Matt got a fro (RACIST!). Puck got devil horns. Mercedes got…a cigar? No, giant buck teeth and…a lollipop? They drew a happy face on Tina (? The fuck?). Nothing to Mike Chang or Britany. Artie got devil horns and a mustache. Rachel got a pitchfork. Quinn got..a giant Rabbi beard? They crossed out Rachel’s face and wrote ‘lame’ with an arrow pointing to her. This is the most UNcreative defacing ever. I’m disappointed. Be better bullies! Or funnier ones at least! SOLOS: Rachel (3), Finn (3), Mercedes (1) MERCEDES TAKES THE GLORY NOTE: 3rd time

#Glee Memories #Glee #lol Glee #Glee Mattress

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